He sat on the couch, staring in the direction of the TV. It was on, but he didn't hear it. Hs mind was a million miles away – no, actually it was in an apartment on the other side of town. Why had she done it? Why had Scully gone off with Cancerman, trusted him, believed him?
Scully wasn't the believer, that was his role. She was the one that kept him grounded, made him look deeper for a real truth. Okay, with the exception of religion maybe. But how could Scully believe that man? He could understand almost anyone else in the world.
She'd left town with the man and she hadn't told him. Okay, Cancerman had threatened to withdraw the information if she spoke with him. But she had believed that too. What had he said to her, what could he possibly have said that would make her leave with him?
He scrubbed his face with his hands again. Why did this hurt so badly? She was back; he hadn't harmed her – physically. Hell, you'd think she'd betrayed him, gone to bed with his best friend or something.
That was a stupid analogy. Cancerman was far from being his best friend – friend of any kind. And Scully could go to bed with anyone she wanted to. He squirmed at the thought. Well, she could, couldn't she? She wasn't sleeping with him and she was a beautiful, desirable woman. Any man would want her . . . and just when the hell had he switched to thinking about sex with Scully?
That wasn't the kind of betrayal he was worried about, thinking about, not worried. She certainly hadn't had sex with Cancerman. Forget the damn sex! It was a matter of trust.
How the hell was he supposed to go into the office and pretend everything was the same? Going to the office, beating her there in the mornings, was the best part of his day. He could watch her get ready for the day – do all those little domestic things like preparing her desk for the day and the coffee. Damn he loved to watch her with the coffee, especially on days she hadn't had time to make any at home. He could always tell. She'd get that first cup and hold it with both hands close to her face, inhaling the steam and the fumes, her eyes closed. Then she'd take that first sip and her expression – it was almost orgasmic.
He shook himself, that was ludicrous. He had no idea what Dana Scully looked like when she came in a man's arms. He'd visualized it on many occasions, but he'd had no opportunity to experience it.
"I like you. I like her too, that's why she was returned to you." Cancerman's words. Did he still like Scully? Or was it more? Why had he taken her out of town, away from him? It made no sense. Was it only to separate them? And if that, why for such a short time?
He'd been crazed when they took her before. The guys had threatened to restrain him and he knew Frohike had never forgiven him for his blunder on that one case while she was missing. She didn't know about that. Did he owe it to her to tell . . . No. They didn't share things like that. She wouldn't care anyway, not if she would go off with . . .
Damn it! He hurt so much it was physical. What was going to happen now? How could he get past this? Why was this effecting him so damn much? He shook his head; "I still have you." He'd said that to her after one of his first encounters with Cancerman. Was it still true?