I don't care Chapter 1, a x-files fanfic

Title: I don't care

Author: Sist3r Spo0ky / Chrissy

Genre: Romance/Humour

Rating: K+

Summary: This fic is based on the lyrics of the song "I don't care," one-shot

Authors Note: I got a PM from PutOnYourRedShoesAndDanceTheBlues, and she gave me these lyrics in hope that I could write a fic for it. Thank you for the beta da ruth!!

So here it is, hopefully you like it. :) Please guys, remember to review, or add to favourites! This doesn't really fit in with any specific season, so there shouldn't be any spoilers. I'm also going to pretend Mulder's not red/green colour-blind.

Chapter one is without the Lyrics, Chapter two is with the lyrics included. I know some people may prefer to read it without the lyrics.

Dedication: Mel, PutOnYourRedShoesAndDanceTheBlues. She is AWESOME, and it was HER idea for this fic. So thank you hun. :)

Chapter 1:

I've had a few weeks to get used to this, working with my new partner, and seeing Scully only on the weekends… I treasure the moments during the week, when we bump into each other in the hallway at work. We share a smile; sometimes I'll stop and ask her how it is working with someone normal. She always shakes her head, and chuckles lightly; she touches my arm in sympathy. She knows me too well; she can see the pain I'm feeling. I just lost everything I loved. My Scully, My X-Files.

I know I haven't truly lost her, but it feels like it. As without the X-Files to talk about, I feel my attraction for her bubbling just beneath the surface. I know she feels it too, and I want to blame her – blame her for the fact that I'm walking to my car after a long day at work alone, and I'm going back to my apartment… to be alone. I know I'm lying to myself though it isn't her. It is me who is holding back. I'm the one forever convincing myself, that I don't care. Really, I don't.

I pop a sunflower seed into my mouth, and place my hands into my jacket pockets, willing myself to think of something other than her. But I see a flash of red across the street, and unwillingly I glance across, trying to dampen the excitement I feel when I see her face. My Scully. Wait a minute, who is she with? I can tell it's a man, I don't recognise him. He has straight, short hair. It looks blonde.

Her arm is hooked through his, and a flare of anger ignites in my stomach. I cross the road, and walk behind them unseen. She is laughing, pointing to stores and random words from their conversation float back to me. She leans her head against his shoulder, and I bite my tongue until I think I might draw blood. The anger slowly dissipates, and I remind myself that she isn't mine, that I don't love her, I don't care… he can have her.

I stay out. I dread going back to my silent apartment. I go to a coffee shop, and drink as many cappuccinos' as I can and I sit, and sit until the people behind the counter begin throwing me strange looks. I wander aimlessly down the street until I find a Chinese take-out restaurant. I take a long time choosing, even though I order the same meal that I seem to order every other week.

I place the hot plastic container on the empty passenger seat, and try to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. Oh Scully… you are usually sitting right there next to me.

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care

I drive past her house on the way home; I don't even plan on it. There is a red car parked in my spot, I know it's his car. What are you doing Scully? I look up at the curtained window, and a mental image of my partner, naked and sweaty appears before my eyes. I want to knock on her door, distract her, and tell her exactly what I think about all of this… forgetting that I don't care.

But I drive home and I wonder why on earth I had even driven past her apartment. What could I possibly do to change her mind? Nothing. I don't love her, I don't care… she wasn't mine to begin with.

The stairs seem much taller, my shoes filled with concrete. When I get up there, I know that memories of her in my apartment will fill my mind.

My apartment is warm, but I barely notice. I am cold and numb as I drop my un-eaten dinner onto the bench and I sit on the couch. The spring's squeak, and the sound seems to echo around my apartment.

My mind, usually so cluttered; can only focus on her. The way she is the one who knows me best, and I miss her. I miss the way; while we often bickered on cases… occasionally we would have deep conversations.

Ahab.

The room progressively gets darker; the only light is from the answering machine… it's blinking? I have a message! I leap to my feet, and dive for the machine, pressing the play button. I'm embarrassed by my behaviour, but I chuckle nervously, glad no one can see me.

I know it's her, who else would it be?

"My brothers been in town," she says happily. She clears her throat. Is she nervous? "He just went home. God I hadn't seen him in years!" There is a long pause, and then: "I miss you, I haven't heard from you Mulder… Give me a ring." The beep that indicates the end of the message causes my heart to leap to my throat.

I grab my coat, and I'm out the door before my mind has time to fully accept the fact that: I still care, I do love her, that she is the only one who matters to me. Why did I ever try and convince myself otherwise?

The End.