"Mulder I thought we'd agreed that we were going to designate every fourth Sunday in the month our special 'away' time. Tell me why you've reneged on our agreement." Special Agent Fox Mulder looked at Special Agent Dana Scully rather sheepishly. The truth was that he had totally forgotten they had hammered out this little deal last Friday afternoon during a routine stakeout of some woman whose boyfriend was supposedly in some way connected to a Columbian drug smuggling cartel.

Scully trodded into his apartment rather reluctantly, familiarly closing the door with the big gold lettering behind her. She seemed rather put out ... Mulder had to admit that he did have an unseemly habit of calling on her at all hours of the day just so she could come over and satisfy whatever little whim of his at that particular moment in time. He knew that. The felt guilty about it ... really.

But then he remembered what had jolted him into action, awoken him from a dreamless comatose state that had regularly been his recuperation time. Every couple of weeks his insomnia would catch up with him and he would actually obtain the luxury of falling into deep, therapeutic sleep. Really asleep, with no dreams. Nothing to wake up screaming about, making him clutch at empty air, no phantom faces peering and taunting him just beyond his realm of unconsciousness.

"Scully, guess what I got this morning?" And it ain't my birthday present." He threw the white envelope at her playfully, hoping to divert her annoyance at him. He threw in one of his more mischievous smiles that never failed to draw a reluctant grin out of her in response.

And it did not fail to work this time. Smiling in spite of herself, Scully opened the plain envelope and began to digest its contents. A single arched eyebrow was her only reaction to the information contained therein.

"Scully, do you see what we have here?" He strode towards her, quickly closing the gap between them. Mulder took the first few pages out of her hands with barely contained deadpan enthusiasm and proceeded to embark on one of his customary monologues.

"You see what we have here?" He looked at her expectantly. "Names, "he pointed to a section on the first page and held it up for her to see, "and dates. Specifics. Enough to get a start on actually exposing the men behind the secret government conspiracy that has been perpetuated on the American people for more than fifty years. Secrets hidden from us by a government desperate to keep the truth hidden, the truth of unauthorised genetic experiments with alien DNA and the truth of alien-human hybridisation. The truth that the alien rebellion is also desperate to expose." He paused for breath and lowered his eyes to intently gaze at her. "Scully." Mulder tried to contain his rising excitement. "What we may have here is the Holy Grail. Our Holy Grail."

He paused again and looked to his partner for response. She characteristically took a fraction of a second to digest all the information he had laid on her and formulated her carefully articulated response.

"Mulder, I've said this once before and I'll say it again. These men ... the ones that have perpetuated this crimes ... they're all dead. Destroyed by the very plans they themselves put in motion over fifty years ago, burnt beyond recognition in that airforce base hanger months ago. I know you want to find your sister, but exposing their deeds won't help you to do that." She looked at him sympathetically. "And Mulder, I know that you think that this information is genuine, but the fact remains that we have no idea where this came from or even why it was given to you. Until we find a way to test this information there is no way to verify the accuracy of this. Mulder, I hate to say this, but it all sounds conveniently easy, and hence suspicious." Her voice softened in understanding. "I know you want to believe that there is some Holy Grail for you out there, something that would explain every single unexplainable thing you've witnessed over the years, but the truth is that in life, there are no easy solutions. To believe or even to entertain the very existence of such an omnipotent explanation to every event we have encountered would not only be erroneous, but dangerous. It leaves us too vulnerable to manipulation by those very men, we want to expose. You know that from experience."

Mulder did know, but right now her caution could not affect him, rolling off him like water off a duck's back.

"You refuse to believe in one underlying explanation to our questions, yet persist in the belief that God is the answer to every question we have about the creation of the universe?" he countered.

"Mulder, you know as well as I do that the two are completely distinct. I'm not disputing the possibility of the existence of explanations and proof of the treachery we have encountered, I merely question the nature of that explanation and the means with which it was given to you."

Mulder and Scully stood still, eyes locked as they silently continued their intellectual fencing.

"And speaking of that," Scully let her frown drop from her face, "how did you get all this?" She gestured to the remaining documents in her hand.

"Ah ..." Mulder relaxed a fraction, "it was hidden inside the newspaper at my door. I heard a knock and when I went to open it, there was no one in the hallway besides this." He let out a breath and plonked himself on the couch. He covered his face with his hands and let out another plaintive sigh.

"We're getting too old for this" he said unthinkingly. Scully was on to him in a blink of an eye.

"We?" she gave him her trademark stare.

"Oh ...uh ... I mean ... I meant me." She continued to stare at him.

"Come along. I suppose we might as well get to the office and find out as much as we can to corroborate this information. Skinner's going to want to see this before we file our 302 on it anyhow." Scully gathered up all the papers that had been strewn over the coffee table as Mulder had perused through it. She noted once more how untidy he could be at times.

"Come on, I'll drive. You coming?" She looked him her partner inquiringly as he remained motionless. Then, spurred to action he looked up, and said with a boyish grin,

"Why, Miss Scully, I thought you'd never ask!."

* * *

Scully sat back on her chair and admired her newly installed desk on the far side of the basement area she shared with Mulder. She reflected that she would very much enjoy watching her partner grimace and squirm as he acknowledged grudging defeat in this little contest of theirs. The fact that she had not had a desk had served to accentuate the seniority of Mulder's position when their partnership was first formed; and although there was a harmonious equality to their partnership now, it occasionally irked her that the final symbolic step, that of her own desk, was missing. And now that equality was acknowledged openly as well as covertly, and she had come in before Mulder this morning to arrange her desk to her liking. Yes, she reflected, seven years of chasing little green men and government conspiracies had finally paid off. She indulged in a smile of self-satisfaction before the assured yet irratic footsteps of her partner brought her back to attention.

Mulder came bursting in through the door and stopped abruptly, staring at the new addition of her desk to the already crowded area. Pursing his lips he sauntered past her and sat down at his own desk, leaning back into his desk.

"So Scully, I see you've formed quite an attachment to that desk of yours. I'm sure my desk is absolutely inconsolable now that you won't be propping those lovely little legs of yours on it any more." Mulder always delighted in sharing his quips with Scully.

Scully never put her legs on his desk and he knew it. She refused to be baited by him. She would savour the moment despite Mulder's vain attempts at distracting her from absorbing her moment of triumph.

The phone on Mulder's desk interrupted the ensuing silence.

"Well, we've been called up by Skinner. Let's go."