The next night, Scully was transferred to a hospital in Washington DC where she was monitored and treated more extensively. Her whole family came to visit her, including Charles who never really took the time to visit her in the past few years due to his work. And Mulder came every day, always at sunset. She couldn’t really figure out why sunset was significant in the least, besides the fact that it was pretty and bright, but as long as he came, it didn’t matter. It really aggravated her when Bill and Mulder visited at the same time. All Bill did was unfairly insult and scapegoat Mulder, while Mulder tried to defend himself with his witty little remarks. Charles and Mulder, however, seemed to get along fairly well. They were alike in many ways. Both had a dry and somewhat cynical sense of humor, were slightly emotional despite their attempts to hide it, and were married to their work. Furthermore, Charles was more open-minded to the paranormal and supernatural. Not even close to Melissa’s level of unquestioning belief, but more than Scully and Bill combined. Scully was glad that at least one of her siblings actually got along with Mulder. She was afraid her whole family might end up hating him.
    Two days after she got to DC, she waited patiently for Mulder to show up at sunset. He was actually very punctual about it, surprisingly. Mulder was rarely ever on time for anything. That day, he came in smiling, with one hand behind his back.
    “Hi, Mulder.”
    “Hey, Scully. Feeling better?”
    “Yeah, I think so. Whatcha got there?”
    “Guess.”
    “Mulder, I don’t wanna guess.”
    “Guess anyway.”
    Certain that he wouldn’t stop until she actually did, she guessed. “A kangaroo?”
    He gave her weird look. “Y’know, I tried. I really did. But, gosh dang it, Scully, he wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”
    “Maybe you didn’t try hard enough. Besides, whatever you’ve got there doesn’t fit in your pocket either.”
    “Is it just me, or are our conversations getting goofier?”
    “Are you asking if you’re getting goofier or if our conversations are getting goofier? Because, if you want my opinion, both sounds pretty accurate.”
    He smiled. “Anyway, guess again.”
    “I’m tired of guessing. Tell me now.”
    “You know, Scully, you take all the fun out of things sometimes.” He smiled. “But I’ll show you anyway.” He brought his hand out in front of him with a flourish. He held a bouquet of fresh, long-stemmed roses.
    “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Mulder, they’re gorgeous.”
    He smiled slightly. Is he turning red? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s looking embarrassed. And slightly coy. The thought amused her. He handed the flowers to her.
    “Thank you.” She took in the scent. “Mm…”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “What’s the occasion?”
    “It’s Monday.”
    She looked up at him. “And…?”
    “That’s it. It’s Monday.”
    A memory tickled the back of her mind. Mulder speaking to her grave. She tried to remember what exactly he had said. She ran the words through her mind.
    “You say something, Scully?”
    She hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud. “Never mind.” She had a feeling he had heard.
    He began to sit down when he started rummaging through her food. Or, rather, the plastic containers they came in. “So, Scully, what’ve you been doing lately?”
    “I’m confined to a bed, Mulder. There’s not much I can do.”
    “Been catching up on your soaps?”
    She smiled. “Something like that.”
    “Personally, I think Trevor is Ellisandra’s kid’s father. But Colt had been carrying it on with her for a while when his brother’s mistress was away, so I guess anything’s possible.”
    She raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you have a secret life I don’t know about?”
    “Oh, come on, Scully. You don’t think I actually watch that crap, do you? Just making conversation is all.” He picked up her juice container and threw it back on the tray. “What the heck have they been feeding you?”
    “It’s not all that-“ She stopped. “Wait, what did you say?”
    “I said, ‘What have they been feeding you?’”
    “No, you said, ‘What the heck…’”
    “Okay. So what does it matter?”
    “It’s just that you’ve never attempted to dumb down your use of profanity before. At least, not any times I can remember.”
    “Well, like I said. What does it matter?”
    “It’s nothing, really. I just thought it was kinda strange…” She smelled the flowers again. He was really acting weirder than usual. And, for Mulder, that was saying a lot.