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She knew she wasn't a person who was broken easily. She had always been the strong, self-confident, beating-the-odds kind of woman that could rarely be shaken. She almost never worried. It was scarcely known that she ever cried. But though her appearance of strength and dignity never wavered, Dana Scully was a lonely person, with a fragile heart to prove it.

She knew she needed to let go.

So did he.

Nothing in the world scared her more than weakness. She loathed the feeling. When she went to the psychiatrist's office, she knew she'd break down and cry, hating every minute of it. But, GOD, did it feel good. Her shrink had recommended she take some time off of work for awhile. After Antarctica and the previous year, she had virtually no time to heal emotionally, no time to herself.

"You don't show your emotions, and everything you keep inside only hurts you more, Dana," she had said. "Each emotion you repress ends up hurting you. It's like cutting yourself on purpose and trying to hate the wounds. You can't do it for too long. One day, you might snap and do or any thing that maybe you didn't mean to do. You can hide yours cuts for a while, but eventually, someone's going to notice."

Scully had only shaken her head, skeptical. She had hidden emotions for years. Between her father's death, her sister's death, her cancer, the loss of her only daughter, let alone her feelings for her partne, she was doing a constant juggling act. But now her arms were growing tired, and soon she would stop being able to keep the balls in the air.

So she laid there in bed that morning, the blankets around her warming her every muscle. But that day, she couldn't get up. She closed her eyes, then reached for the phone, dialing the work number. Next thing she knew, she had asked for the day off, even though it was Friday, and was hanging up. She set down the receiver and brought her hand up to her face, covering her eyes, feeling the lashes lining them tickle her palm. 'What's the matter with me?' she wondered, then jumped when the phone rang. She reached for the phone and managed to mumble:

"Hello?" It sounded more of a grunted statement than a question.

"Scully?" came the soft query of the other end.

"Mulder?" she replied, concerned.

"I was going to leave a message on your machine; I didn't expect you to be home. Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm not th-"

"Oh, wait. I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. I'm not at the office, either," he said apologetically.

"Where are you?"

"Home."

"What's the matter? Are you sick?" she asked, propping herself on her elbow.

"No....no....I just...." he paused, searching for the right words. "I needed some time off. Why are you home?"

"I don't know, really. I needed some time off, too," she said, realizing how stupid it sounded. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Huh?"

"When you called here. What did you want to leave on my machine?"

"Oh! Oh, I was just calling to apologize for not showing up at work."

"Oh," she replied. They were silent for a moment.

"Scully?" he asked quietly.

" Yeah?"

"Would....would it bother you if I came over there? I don't think I want to be totally secluded from people all day," he said, his voice soft and shy. She smiled at the innocence of his tone.

"No, I don't mind at all. Come on over," she said. She could practically hear and see his relief over the phone.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, please. Come."

"Be there in a few minutes."

"See you then."

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She forced herself out of bed and went to the closet, pulling out her favorite pair of worn-in jeans and a lavender T-shirt. She changed, pulled on a pair of socks and her white tennis shoes. She didn't want to put on much makeup, so she only put on mascara, just to make it look like she at least had eyes. Without it, her face looked dead and bland. She went to the kitchen and started fixing her breakfast. 'Has Mulder eaten yet?' she wondered. Just then the door opened, and her partner popped his head inside.

"Hey, Scully," he said, a slight grin on his face.

"Hi," she said, beckoning him in. He went into the kitchen and shrugged off his leather jacket. He wore casual clothes, black jeans and a white T-shirt. "Hungry?" she asked.

"Maybe.... what are you making?" he asked.

"Blueberries and milk."

"That's.... interesting."

"Don't tell me you've never had it," she said in amazement. She studies his face. "You haven't had it, have you?"

"No," he admitted.

"Sit down," Scully ordered. "This is a delicacy. Trust me." She went to the fridge and pulled out another package of blueberries. She poured blueberries into two bowls, grabbed the sugar bowl, and then managed to get the milk. She set it out in front of Mulder, then went back to get spoons.

"I don't really like blueberries, Scully. They're sour."

"Oh, no they're not. You just need to get the right kind," she said, sitting next to him. Carefully, she dumped a few large spoonfuls of sugar on top of the berries and poured on the milk. Mulder eyed her for a moment, then did the same, adding more sugar than Scully did. He took a spoonful and ate a bite.

"Well? What's the verdict?" she asked. He chewed for a moment.

"This is quite possibly the best breakfast I've ever had," he said and began digging in. She smiled, and ate silently, watching him wolf down the entire bowl. He sat back, still tasting the sweet and tangy flavor. She smiled and stood up, gathering the dishes.

"Thanks, Scully," he said.

"Sure. I'm glad I could introduce you to a Scully-family tradition," she said, bringing the dishes to the sink. The bowls were balanced precariously, and she attempted to pick up the milk carton.

"Let me help you with that," Mulder offered, standing up.

"No, I'm fine, Mulder. You can sit-" she started, but he had already reached to get the milk from her. He bumped into her and dropped the bowls onto the floor with a crash. "Shit!"

"Geez, I'm sorry! I'll pay for those," he said. Scully looked at him shaking her head.

"It's not your fault, don't be sorry." She stooped to pick up the pieces of glass. "OW! Dammit!" she cried. A sharp corner suddenly sliced through her index finger, and she stood up quickly.

"Did you cut yourself?" Mulder asked, going to her side quickly.

"It's nothing," she said, wincing. Her hand was wrapped around her finger tightly.

"Let me see," he said.

"I'm fine, Mulder. It's just a little cut," she relpied quickly. Mulder glared at her and gently pried her hand away from her finger.

"Geez! Scully this is 'nothing?!'" he said, examining the deep cut on her fingertip. She didn't respond. He went to the sink and let warm water run, then started to clean the wound.

"Mulder, I'm the doctor here. I can do it myself," she insisted, but didn't fight much more. He was determined to help her. He managed to find a Band-Aid and placed it gingerly on her finger, then placed a kiss on his finger and rested it on hers.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes. Thank you," she said, feeling herself blush in embarrassment. She knew then that today was going to be long.

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By nine o'clock that night, they had watched a total of 6 hours of television and a few movies. By the end of the last movie, Scully was asleep, her cheek resting on Mulder's shoulder. He looked at her and grinned, admiring her simple beauty. She shifted suddenly and snuggled into him, moving close enough to him to nuzzle her nose against the base of his neck. He stiffened instinctively, then carefully brought and an arm around her shoulders. A soft sigh escaped her, and Mulder closed his eyes. Scully stirred and when she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see where she was. She leaned her head back just enough to see her partner's face. He was asleep, his head tilted back slightly. The TV before them gave off a soft glow, the program that was on was almost mute; only soft murmurs came from the box. She studied his face in fascination, looking at the weary-looking lines beneath his eyes. His nose was really not as bad as everyone made it out to be. She loved his nose. Now that she thought about it, she loved all of him.

Scully tilted her head to the side. She really was glad she had taken today off. She was even more glad Mulder had, too. She was grateful for the company, especially his. She smiled and leaned forward, placing the smallest kiss on the mole on his cheek. Mulder's head lolled for a second, and then he opened one eye, looking down at her, his eyebrow arched. He opened his other eye and peered at her, their eyes locked. The same feeling that Scully had felt in Mulder's hallway came back to her. The arm draped around her shoulders tightened and pulled her closer. He dropped his head down further and their lips locked. They didn't move, just kept their lips pressed together and held them there, motionless. Mulder pulled back and her hand ran up his chest. They sat there silently, and Mulder pulled her into a warm embrace. They held one another and fell asleep. Maybe Scully had to keep a lot of emotions hidden, but at least for today, she didn't have to hide one anymore.