OOM
If he was any other person, he might have been awed, or at the very least, skeptical about what he'd seen through the door in his closet. But he wasn't any other person. In fact, that description more thoroughly summed up his partner, minus the awed part. Mulder could much more easily picture her dubious face than the more infrequent look of wonder that came upon her.
He hadn't told her what he'd seen. Given what had happened to them this summer, and the shock of the X-Files being shut down, he thought adding the whole 'bar at the end of the universe' event to the fold might just shake things up more than they already were.
There had been a significantly lengthy period of time, before Scully had entered his life, when Mulder felt decidedly and abjectly alone. Despite her continued, and seemingly perpetual cynicism regarding the things they so frequently investigated, she was the one person who seemed to reverse that isolation he thought he'd be doomed to.
Now, it seemed, he had something to contend with that he couldn't tell her about. Milliways. How would he tell her?
And did he even need to?
It wasn't as though it was a suspect activity; there certainly to be nothing ominous about it. In fact, he enjoyed it. He'd been exposed to more people and creatures than he had yet to wrap his head around.
But he'd started to get used to a life where he had no secrets--where he had one person with whom to share things.
If he couldn't share the very existence of Milliways with her, what else might he be apt to hide?
He hadn't told her what he'd seen. Given what had happened to them this summer, and the shock of the X-Files being shut down, he thought adding the whole 'bar at the end of the universe' event to the fold might just shake things up more than they already were.
There had been a significantly lengthy period of time, before Scully had entered his life, when Mulder felt decidedly and abjectly alone. Despite her continued, and seemingly perpetual cynicism regarding the things they so frequently investigated, she was the one person who seemed to reverse that isolation he thought he'd be doomed to.
Now, it seemed, he had something to contend with that he couldn't tell her about. Milliways. How would he tell her?
And did he even need to?
It wasn't as though it was a suspect activity; there certainly to be nothing ominous about it. In fact, he enjoyed it. He'd been exposed to more people and creatures than he had yet to wrap his head around.
But he'd started to get used to a life where he had no secrets--where he had one person with whom to share things.
If he couldn't share the very existence of Milliways with her, what else might he be apt to hide?