He's silent, letting the food be an excuse for failing to reply right away. Look, Scully, he's being polite rather than shoving broccoli into his mouth as he talks. It's more a delaying tactic than anything else, though, because he can't think of anything that would actually merit people's interest. They've been off the lam for years, even if he's done his best to stay out of the Bureau's eye as well. Hell, it's been more than five years since their last real case. What he's done since then doesn't amount to much.

It's stunningly clear, in that moment, why Scully left in the first place. He's had nothing to offer the world in years. For all he's tried, he's gotten nowhere.

"Nothing I can think of," is what he eventually says, trying to keep a sense of the morose out of it. But even if he succeeds there, he can't help a bitter addition. "To tell you the truth, Scully, I don't know why they'd try to go through you to get to me, anyway. I haven't seen you in...close to a year? If not for the news article, I wouldn't have known you were gone."