Disclaimer: Screw you guys, I'm going home... Cartman, you always say that and you never go home.... I SAID, screw you, home! And that is how I feel about that. I also like Cartman's voice.

A/N: My day has been craptastic. I hate my life and being old and not having a career and not wanting a career (except a mommy) and not having a man to take care of me. I know that is sooo not the "feminism way" but I don't care. I would rather stay home with the kids than anything else on earth. ANYWAY, I thought I would make Scully have a craptastic day too. At least she has someone to make her feel better. And as much as I love you, Jule, it's just not the same.


If Dana Scully were to make a list of the worst days of her life, this day might top the rest. Sure she'd had harder days. More emotional, angsty, frustrating, even devastating. But this one was just bad all around.

She woke up late.

It was Saturday, but she had to work.

She had to teach at Quantico at the last minute and she was totally unprepared.

The copy machine jammed twice and then ate her original document.

The heel broke off of her shoe, and she had neglected to put and extra pair of shoes in the overnight bag she kept in her trunk.

She didn't have time for lunch.

There was no coffee. Anywhere.

She dropped her scalpel three times and wiped her forehead with a gloved hand once.

The radio in her car stopped working.

She got in a fight with her mom over the phone.

It was raining and she forgot an umbrella.

She realized that she hadn't been shopping in weeks and had to go back out to the grocery store.

She forgot the umbrella again.

She sliced her finger open with a knife while trying to cut a melon for dinner.

She had to go to urgent care and get it stitched.

She then came home and proceeded to burn dinner.

Throwing the pan across the room only left a mess to clean up.

Which is what she was doing when there was a knock on the door. She cursed, probably louder than she had intended, and stood up from the tomato stained floor.

"Who is it?"

"Me."

She sighed and opened the door.

"Mulder, what do you want?"

He tipped his head slightly to the side and gave her a quizzical look.

"Scully do you know what day it is?"

"Saturday."

"Yes. March sixth."

"What's March sixth?" she asked, completely dumbfounded and slightly annoyed.

"It's our anniversary. We met on March sixth in 1992. That means we've known each other for seven years now. I thought you would remember."

Tears clouded her eyes and she looked away. Crying in front of her partner would be a great way to cap off a wonderful day.

"Scully," he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "What's the matter?"

She shook her head and buried her face in her hands as the tears became audible. He hesitated a moment, then pulled her close. She went willingly. He was often her safe haven in the midst of storms, and even though comparatively, this day was nothing more than a light drizzle, she still felt better cocooned in his arms. One hand rested on the small of her back, while the other tangled itself in her hair. She only cried for a moment or two before pulling away and looking at him.

"What's the matter, Scully?"

"Bad day."

"What happened?"

"Everything. It all went wrong. And it's not even crap that I should care about, but for some reason... I don't know."

"What can I do to help?"

She smiled slightly, turned on the puppy dog face, and tapped her forehead. He chuckled and rolled his eyes just a little before leaning down and kissing the spot she indicated.

"Better?"

"I feel like a new woman."

He smiled and pulled her towards the couch where he forced her to sit next to him.

"Now, take a deep breath and tell your best friend about all the evils you faced today."

"I don't want to relive it."

"Come on, Scully," he said, reaching over to rub her shoulders. "Talking about it will ease the pain."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Just a little. Now spill."

She gave him a brief run-down of her obstacles and ended the entire speech with "And I didn't even get to see you all day, how fair is that?"

"Well I didn't get to see you either."

"That's true."

She was starting to relax under his warm hands, and she idly wondered why they had never done this before. It certainly worked better than yelling at each other or having nightmares. Maybe next time the world crashed down around her ears, she would ask for this. Maybe Mulder's hands were magic.

She tipped her head forward just slightly, allowing him better access to the sore muscles in her neck.

"Scully, you still with me?"

"Hmmm," she answered, letting her eyes close. He leaned in closer, his face coming dangerously close to hers.

"Why don't you lay down?"

"Why?"

"So I can do this properly."

"If this isn't properly, then properly might make me drool."

"Nothing I haven't seen before."

She smiled and stretched out on the couch while he perched next to her. His hands returned to her shoulders, then drifted down her back, tending to the knots and tired muscles.

"You're really letting your guard down tonight," he commented, only half joking.

"I'm allowed every seven years or so."

They smiled together, both thinking about that night. At the time she had been scared out of her mind. Later she had been embarrassed, and it was only in the last year or two that he could tease her about it without her face turning red.

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"What did you think of me when we met?"

He was quiet for a while, concentrating on the motion of his hands.

"When we first met, or like, the moment we met?"

"Both."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I thought that you looked about 12 years old and you wouldn't last a day."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But then you spoke. And I thought that you might last a day. But not a week, and certainly not enough time to be more than a blip on my radar screen."

"Yeah, I didn't have the boobs to be more than a blip."

"And you do now?"

"If I could move, I would throw something heavy at you."

"So this is working for both of us, huh?"

"Mulder, grow up."

"So what did you think of me that first day?"

"All hail the king of the smooth segue."

"Seriously."

"I thought you were a pompous, egotistical, stereotypical member of the boys club."

"The boys club?"

"Yeah. Little did I know, you were way to mature for the boys club. You were a man," she joked.

"How'd you know I was a man? I wasn't the one who came to my partner's room in their underwear."

This time she managed to reach around and slap him in the shin, which created an extremely satisfying thwack.

"Add jerk to that list I was mentioning."

"Noted."

"Mulder?" she questioned after a moment of quiet.

"Hmm?"

"Would you change it if you could?"

"Change what?"

"Anything that's happened."

"Sometimes I wish I could. But you've seen all the movies, Scully. I change something and everything changes. Skinner has hair, or Mrs. Peacock is crowned Miss America. Or you and I aren't sitting here together. For all the things I could change, all the ways I could make both of us happy, none of them are good enough to give up what we've got."

"And what do we got, Mulder?"

"Well... I got you babe."

"Thanks, Sonny."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Alright, Scully, I'm going to make you some dinner. You go and take a nice hot bubble bath, and when you're done, there will be food on the table."

"What did I do to deserve treatment like this?"

"I don't know. Maybe your neighbor is smoking pot again."

"I think you're being sweet and then you say something like that."

"That's my way."

She rolled her eyes and stood from the couch, heading for the bathroom while he went into the kitchen.

"Scully, what happened in here?"

"Nothin.'"

"So I have to clean it all up before I can cook dinner?'

"Happy anniversary?"

He sighed and grabbed a dishtowel on the counter.

"The things I do for you, Scully."

"Hey, be nice. I had a bad day."

"How long are you going to milk this?"

"As long as it takes, buddy."

"Great."

She walked over to him and stooped down, cupping his cheek in her hand.

"Thank you for making me feel better, Mulder."

"Thank you for letting me."

She smiled and returned his previous forehead kiss before heading towards the bathroom. It didn't matter how mad he made her, how often he ditched her or questioned her, or even fought with her. At the end of the day, he was the one that was there to dry the tears and make her laugh again.