Chapter Text
She looked exactly the same as she had the first day he'd met her, standing there behind the counter with the phone wedged between her shoulder and her ear and hair falling in her eyes. He could have sworn she was having the same conversation -- "Sure, Mr. Eaker, we've got chains for that, just bring it on by" -- and it so spooked him that he checked his watch to make sure it wasn't November again and he hadn't been abducted by aliens and thrown back in time.
He half-expected her to say, "Can I help you, sir?" when she hung up the phone, but she saw him and she beamed and blew him a kiss and wrote something down on a memo pad and he knew he was indeed, really here, and this was really happening.
"So, what time do you get off, baby?" he drawled, sidling up to the counter and leaning across so she could kiss him.
"What time you wanna get me off?" she asked coyly, and from the corner of the shop a woman knocked a bike into another bike and dove at them to stop the whole row from collapsing in a domino-chain of pedals and spokes.
"I thought maybe we'd have lunch," Mulder said, watching the customer brace a twelve-speed against her hip so she could steady the row of beach cruisers lined up in the rack. He raised his eyebrows and smiled, amused.
"Really?" Sue said, as if lunch was something phenomenal and unfathomable she never thought she'd really get to do, like her mother had told her she could finally pierce her ears or wear eyeshadow or whatever it was girls got excited for and then tried to play cool about.
"Really," Mulder said. "With forks and napkins and everything. I'll even pay."
Sue blinked at her notepad like she'd forgotten what she was doing. She looked back at Mulder. "That's a great idea!" she said. Mulder nodded.
"I've got to get these invoices to corporate headquarters, but if it's okay can we stop at a post office? I'll be real quick, just in and out..." She trailed off and Mulder tried not to laugh.
"Sure," Mulder said.
"Actually, it's no big deal. I can do it later. If you want to go now, we can go."
Mulder sighed. The customer in the back of the store left, and the bells above the door chimed her exit. "There's a post office two blocks away, Sue. Relax."
She gave him a funny look. "I'm relaxed," she said. "I just thought you seemed a little bit impatient."
Mulder coughed. "I seemed nothing of the sort," he said, a little defensively.
"Whatever," Sue said, holding her hands up in surrender. "You don't have to make a big deal about it. I know you need to get back to work soon anyway. I can just hang my 'gone riding' sign up and be out of here all day."
Mulder sighed again. "Bring the invoices," he said. "We'll stop at the post office. We can take as long a lunch as you like."
"Well, we can't, really," Sue sounded annoyed. "I've got stacks of paperwork to do. I mean, it's not FBI work but it's important to me."
"Tell you what," Mulder said, giving up. "You just tell me where you want to go, and how long you want to stay there. I'm totally wide open."
Sue sat down hard on the stool behind the counter. "Please don't patronize me," she said.
Mulder laid a hand over hers. "I'm sorry if it sounded like I was patronizing you," he said, slowly. "Let's just go have lunch."
Sue let out a long exhale. "It's just that..." she started, and Mulder thought he heard a lump in her voice. He stroked her hand. "I hate coming in second to your job," she said.
"I told you, the afternoon is all yours," Mulder said. "I can even call Scully and have her cover for me. Don't be upset."
"I'm not upset!" Sue snapped. She looked like a ten-year-old, almost beautiful, but Mulder wanted to send her to her room anyway. Her face was screwed into a pout and Mulder couldn't believe this was his life, and his little girl to take care of.
"It's okay, honey," he said, nearly choking on the epithet.
"Oh!" Sue said, her mind immediately somewhere else entirely. "I was reading about this bike tour they have in Tanzania in the summer. I was thinking we should go."
"This summer?" Mulder asked. It seemed a million years away. The thought that he could still be with Sue then made him shudder.
"It's expensive. We can talk about it," Sue said. "No pressure or anything. I just thought it would be fun."
"We can talk about it," Mulder said, looking at the door.
"Okay," Sue said. "Then let me just assemble all these silly scraps of paper and we're out of here."
"Great," Mulder said. "I'm starved."
At the very least, that part was true.
*****
The first thing he saw when he pulled into the parking lot was Sue sitting on her car with her arms crossed over her chest. On the radio, the DJ was telling him to expect temperatures in the low thirties with a chance of snow later in the evening. Sue must have been told the same thing. Between the fleece of her hat and scarf, only her nose showed, and it seemed to be scowling.
Parking a few spaces away from her, he sat and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He'd been looking forward to their bike ride, thinking the exercise would feel good after having been stuck in the office all week. But now, looking at Sue's face, he got the feeling this trip was going to be anything but enjoyable.
Pulling his own hat on, he jumped out of his battered Cherokee and slammed the door shut. Something underneath gave a metallic tinkle, and Mulder kicked the tire in punishment on his way past. The Jeep was already missing its rear bumper from the last time someone tried to run him off the road. It was getting to the point where his next car would be a tank.
Probably dissatisfied with how slow he was moving, Sue hopped off her bubbly little Neon and strode toward him, her arms still crossed over her chest. "You're late."
He was only a few minutes late. Mulder shook his head. "Er, sorry?" he tried.
Like a princess in training, Sue shrugged expansively, pardoning him for the trivial mistake. "It's okay. Make it up to me?" she asked, tilting her head and pursing her lips.
He kissed her, her cold lips and her sassy nose. Her blonde hair was hidden under her fleecy cap and he wanted to tug it loose so he could play with it while he kissed her.
Sue hummed. "Did you get my messages?"
Mulder could remember having conversations like this with past girlfriends. Pushing his nose into her neck, he said, "I just talked to you Tuesday." This was not, he knew, the right answer.
"I've been calling you all week," Sue prompted, taking a step back and pulling at her scarf. "I left messages nearly every day. Didn't you get them?"
He nodded, resigned. He'd gotten them, daily recordings of Sue asking if he was there, wondering where he was, what was he doing, would he be back later, would he call her when he got home? Her persistence had settled on him like a lead cape, making him avoid the phone, unwilling to get trapped into making small talk about Christmas or family or bike tours in Tanzania.
"Why didn't you call me?" Sue asked, her breath coming out in a white cloud.
"I was busy," he said, lying.
Sue looked at him as if measuring him for a coffin. "Mulder," she said, stepping close again and smoothing a crease out of his jacket. "I thought we'd agreed that I'd have more of your time than this. You told me I wouldn't be coming second to your job anymore."
"What?" he yelped, feeling like she'd slapped him. "I never said that."
Sue stopped smiling. "You told me I wouldn't be second anymore!"
"I didn't," he said again, knowing how bad it made him look, but it was important she understand. "I can't promise you that, Sue."
She stared at him. "Fine," she said, walking away. He watched her open her trunk and pull out a square thing that looked like a chunk of pink ice. She shoved it against his chest, making him catch it. "Here, it's an ashtray. I made it."
"Can I--" he said, staring at the ashtray. It was cold and wrinkly and looked like something that had collapsed.
"Don't bother," she huffed.
And then she was gone, tearing out of the parking lot in her little white Neon.
It started to snow.
Sighing, Mulder got in his Jeep and set the ashtray on the dashboard, where it slid forward and hit the windshield with a clink.
He felt useless and a little confused. It had been such a long time since someone had broken up with him that he'd forgotten what was next. At some point in his life, crying and drinking had usually figured in, but he was too old for that now, so he called Scully instead and said, "I think I just broke up with Sue."