Date sent: Tue, 17 Jun 1997 10:51:18 -0400 (EDT)
From: JohnieRed@aol.com
Homeostasis by Johnie
Disclaimer: Oh, if only, but no, I own nothing that
could make money in syndication and merchandising
while I sunned myself on a beach in St. Lucia.
Rating: NC-17
Category: MSR
Spoilers: Momento Mori, pilot, Sum Zero, Paper Hearts,
The Field Where I Died
Summary: Mulder deals with Scully's disappearance.
Sequel to In My End is My Beginning and Katabasis.
You don't have to read them first, but what else I am
going to say, I wrote them and I think you should.
Comments: If you have any, to JohnieRed@aol.com By
the way, shame, shame on you ignorant masses, not one
of you has known where the title for this series comes
from.
December 1998
Walter Skinner tapped the end of his Mont Blanc pen
against the yellow legal pad on his desk. He was at a
loss, a complete and utter loss of how to handle the
situation at hand. His office still had the faint
lingering odor of cigarette smoke and his mouth the
taste of bitter resignation. He had loaned out part
of his freedom in exchange for a cure for Dana
Scully's cancer eighteen months ago and now the marker
was being called in. Unfortunately, he didn't know
how to do what they had asked, anymore than he knew
how they had cured Agent Scully.
After years of trying to close it down, they wanted
the X-files project reopened. They wanted Fox Mulder
back in the Bureau and they didn't care how Skinner
got him there. The problem was Skinner had no idea
where Mulder had gone after his sister Samantha's body
had been identified and his mother died. Skinner had
gone to Agent Scully's apartment hoping she would
know, only to find her gone after resigning from her
teaching position at Quantico. He had even gone to
her mother's; she had claimed not to know were her
daughter was.
He sighed. He didn't want this to come back to bite
him any more than it already had but he didn't see a
way out and he didn't want the consortium looking for
Mulder and Scully themselves. That precluded locating
the former partners through conventional channels. He
thought if he did the foot work on his own, his
unsavory partners were less likely to find out where
they were and get to them first.
******
Dana Scully walked down Newbury St. in Boston's Back
Bay. She was Christmas shopping after having
corrected final exams for the classes she began
teaching mid-semester for a professor who went on
maternity leave. She found she enjoyed teaching at
Tufts Medical School and was pleased they had asked
her to return and teach several classes for the spring
semester.
Living in Boston was comforting. She had decided to
retreat to the New England city after confronting
Mulder because she had known he lived in there as a
young child and thought it would help her feel close
to him. It did. It was good to be in places he might
have been to before everything began to unravel in his
life. She hoped he would return here, to her, to
reweave it.
Now all there was for her to do was wait, and she had
promised herself she would wait until summer before
making any major decisions about what to do with the
rest of the life she hadn't thought she would have.
She had an excellent oncologist at New England Medical
Center and he had twice reported no traces of cancer.
Dana found she still tired easily though, and decided
to head home, promising herself there would be no more
thoughts of Mulder that day. He would seek her out or
he wouldn't. Either way he had until June.
**************
Mulder had spent the month after Scully's visit to his
Montreal apartment in shock. He rode endlessly on the
Metro, around and around with no particular destiny in
mind, just to think. Her arrival and actions had all
been aimed to show him she understood, understood his
desperation the first night they had been together,
understood his need to heal alone. It wasn't just her
understanding that occupied his thoughts, it was her
ability to communicate to him, without having said
more than a simple statement that she had felt the
same way.
I need you.
The words echoed in his head, his words, her words.
Did he feel strong enough to risk his newfound peace
of mind for a chance at happiness? Yes, he decided.
Dana was part of him and the only thing left that
could hurt him was her pain.
When the weekend finally came, he had flown to
Washington and found out she had resigned from the
Bureau and moved. The Lone Gunmen office had been his
second stop after her apartment. Byers had been
surprisingly open.
"Of course, I know where Dana is, Mulder. I spoke to
her last week," he replied to Mulder's inquiry.
"Dana? You call her Dana?" he was speechless. Agent
Scully hadn't liked the Gunman particularly, it seemed
things had changed.
"Well, Mulder, a lot changed while you were away.
Dana is a good friend. In the last year she spent a
lot of time with us, she even wrote an article for the
Gunman newsletter last summer."
"On what topic?" was all he could think to ask.
"Mulder," Byers had reproached, "surely you didn't fly
down from Montreal to discuss back issues of our
newsletter."
"How did you know I came from Montreal?"
"We've been tracking you for the past ten months."
"You've been what?" Mulder couldn't believe how
forthcoming Byers was. Usually it took several thinly
veiled threats alternated with begging to get this
kind of non-conspiracy related information out of him.
Byers sighed, he had been honest with Dana when she
had come to him in this situation and he didn't want
to be any less so with Mulder. "After you
disappeared, Dana was worried to the point she was
making herself ill. I met with her several times,
always refusing to tell her anything. All I told her
I was sure you'd be back in a couple of months. I
refused to meet with her after that until she called
to tell me she had resigned her field agent status and
the X-files division had been closed. Then I realized
there must be a reason she was so sure you weren't
coming back. When I asked her about it, she told me
she had figured out about the genetic records; she
knew William Mulder wasn't your father. I still
refused to confirm anything but she finally convinced
me you were in worse shape than I thought, and that I
needed to confide in her and insist her in finding
you. We traced you the Navajo Nation, to Montana,
lost track of you twice, and then you turned up in
Montreal. At that time Dana decided to make contact."
Curious, because he knew Byers could not be easily
swayed, Mulder asked, "What did she say to convince
you?"
Byers stroked his beard for a moment, not knowing
whether or not Mulder wanted to hear that he knew such
an intimate detail of his life, but although this man
was different from the Mulder he had known, Byers
doubted his passion for the truth was any less so he
answered, "She told me that you were lovers. Lovers
for just one night and that you had left in the
morning before she woke."
If Mulder had any doubts about reentering Dana
Scully's life before, they were gone now. She had
told Byers, she had used the word lovers, despite the
fact that what they had done had less to do with love
and more to do with a sort of animalistic lust. She
hadn't been hurt, angry or ashamed. She had looked
for him, watching him to insure he was okay but had
respected him enough to give him the time to heal
alone. Mulder nodded, "So where is she?"
"Boston, teaching pathophysiology and cell biology at
Tufts Medical," Byers answered.
"Thanks, Byers. I'll call you when we have everything
worked out."
Byers smiled at the stress on and deliberate use of
when, instead of if.
******
Mulder returned to Montreal and then flew to Boston as
soon he finished grading his students' final papers.
Byers had given him her office number and address but
he hadn't wanted to show up at the University. Once
he arrived in Boston it had only taken a day for him
to track Dana's home address down, when he arrived she
wasn't home so he followed her example and picked the
lock. He was nervous as hell, sitting in her living
room waiting for her to return when he heard the front
door open.
******
She was standing in the entry hall, shuffling shopping
bags and boxes, and shrugging her coat off. She threw
her keys onto the Victorian card table in the hallway
and bit down on the loose leather at the top of her
right index finger to pull a glove off with her teeth.
She repeated the gesture with her left hand, while
she unlaced her boots with the other. It was the most
erotic thing he had ever seen.
He had rehearsed a thousands things to say but somehow
all that came out of his mouth was, "Hello, Dana."
She froze in shock, not looking up from her boot
laces. Oh, please don't let me be imagining his voice
this time, she thought. She looked up to see him
sprawled casually on her couch as though he had spoken
to her yesterday and agreed to meet her.
"Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked wryly, taking
in her blank expression.
Dana smiled, standing in the doorway, "Why did you
come?"
"Dana, you know why I'm here," he said, crossing the
room and reaching down to pull her into his arms.
"I'm here," he whispered in her ear, "because I'm not
afraid anymore.
He pulled back to kiss her briefly, "I lov-"
"Don't say it," she whispered, silencing him with a
kiss, "you don't need to. You never have."
They lay on the couch necking like teenagers for an
hour, then Dana napped in Mulder's arms. He was
content to stay awake watching her breath, feeling her
warmth, smelling the apple blossom scent from her
hair, just feeling her presence beside him.
When she awoke, she was hungry and he offered to make
her dinner. "Well, I don't know..." she said, walking
to the kitchen.
"Why Dana Scully, you closet sexist, you don't think a
man can cook," he said, trying to keep a straight
face.
"Mulder, your gender isn't the issue. You forget,
I've seen what you eat and no one who could cook would
choose to live off of canned soup."
"You wound me," he said in mock injured tones, "I've
lived in the Quebec province for months now and you
don't think I've learned anything about fine French
cuisine?"
"Okay, Julia Child," she challenged, "what culinary
masterpieces have you learned to conjure up? And let
me warn you, don't say sweetbreads."
"Omelets, real French omelets," he said smugly,
"Two of my graduate students invited me for dinner and
since their six year old son demonstrated his ability
to make a good omelet, I thought I could learn too."
"Could the six year old really make an omelet?" she
asked, walking down the hall to the kitchen.
"Actually, yes, with a little help he did just fine,"
he answered, following her into spacious kitchen and
leaning against the stove.
"Well," she tried to appear thoughtful, "I suppose if
a six year could do it so could you."
He snatched a dish towel off the counter and threw it
at her in response. "I put you in charge of making
the salad. I'm going to ransack your fridge for
filling ingredients."
"There's a jar of roasted red peppers, some calamata
olives, and I think, some feta cheese in there," she
yelled from the pantry.
They moved through the kitchen like a couple who had
been together for years, handing each other items
before asked, bumping hips while walking back and
forth to the pantry, talking of mundane things, and
telling each other anecdotes about their students.
After dinner, Dana admitted Mulder made excellent
omelettes. He was pleased with her praise but warned,
"Don't get to used to me cooking, I can only make two
other things and one of them is boiled water."
They washed the dishes, and went upstairs to Dana's
bedroom with a bottle of wine. While Mulder showered,
she changed into a pair of men's black-watch plaid,
flannel pajamas and sat on the window seat under an
afghan to watch the snow beginning to fall onto the
row of brownstones on her street.
The water shut off, and Mulder walked out of the
bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. She
stood up, stepped out of the pajama bottoms and handed
them to him, explaining, "It's cold. Pour some wine
and come watch the snow with me." How does she manage
to look so sexy in a flannel pajama top, he thought
and curled up on the window seat under the afghan,
leaning back against her .
After several minutes of silence he spoke, his voice
rough with emotion, "Thank you, Dana."
"For what?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him
and leaning down to kiss the top of his head.
"For taking away my last doubt, for showing me we were
equal even in pain, not from experiences alone but
because we reflect each other," his voice faded a
little and then he continued, "If pain can't be
avoided, it can be balanced with happiness and since
we're... linked... if I deny myself happiness, I deny
you that same happiness."
She nodded, "We've been hopelessly entwined for...
well, since we lost nine minutes together on a road in
Oregon maybe."
"Maybe," he agreed, "I was always trying to hold back
but the longer we were together the more my control
was slipping and then when you where diagnosed with
cancer..." a single tear trailed down his cheek, the
rest choked his voice.
"It's okay, I'm fine now," she laughed when she
realized she used their old phrase that really meant
shut up and don't ask me. "I'm *really* fine. I had
a check-up last week, I'm still cancer free."
He returned the smile to show he didn't miss the
significance of *fine*. He turned around to face her,
kneeling on the window seat to hold her. "I'm so
sorry, Dana. I didn't think I could allow myself to
love you, openly, for so short a time and then lose
you without losing myself. But the truth was, I was
already lost, and I was obsessed with the idea of
getting revenge. Revenge for taking away something I
was afraid to have in the first place," he finished,
kissing her forehead.
"Mulder," she pulled out of his embrace and walked
over to sit on the edge of the bed, "I was selfish,
too. I kept telling myself I wasn't reaching out
because it would make it all the more difficult for
you when I died but the truth was, I was afraid,
afraid to have just the smallest taste of what the
rest of my life could have been like if I lived. Then
when they found Samantha's body and your mother died,
I told myself I was holding back for your sake but I
was lying to myself."
He sat down next to her, "So what you're trying to
say is that we're both hopelessly stupid," he said
with a grin.
"Yeah," she laughed, "I guess that about sums it up."
He was mesmerized by the brilliance of the full smile
that lit her face as she laughed. "You are so
beautiful," he said.
"Mulder," she scolded, "you don't have to flatter me."
"You're blushing. The unflappable former federal
Agent Scully blushes like a school girl," said Mulder
in obvious delight.
Dana shot him a look. The Look. It only made him
laugh harder. He lay back on the bed, enjoying the
experience of a full, unadulterated laugh. He
couldn't remember ever feeling so free.
"Mulder-"
"Hey, when are you going to stop calling me Mulder,"
he said, sitting back up.
"You mean you actually want me to call you by your
given name?" said Dana with a look of utter disbelief
on her face.
"Why not? I call you Dana don't I?"
"But-"
"But, what?"
"I wasn't sure I wanted to, if you wanted me to," said
Dana without looking at him, "Well, this seems silly
but it, I don't know... it makes... us seem so
final."
"Do you want to say it?" he asked.
"Yes, yes I do," she said softly, "Fo-"
"Shh, don't," he covered her lips with his index
finger, "Not yet, I want there to be nothing left
between us when you say it."
She looked perplexed and then smiled, "What could
there possibly be left between us? And this better
not involve EBE's or flukemen."
He laughed, "No, no time for mutants, I've got a girl
now." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her
into his lap.
She cuddled into his embrace, "What then?"
"Dana, there was something Byers didn't share with
you. It was my place to tell you. When you found out
you had cancer, and the gunmen and I broke into the
clinic- "
"You found out I was infertile," she finished.
He was stunned, "How did you know?"
"Mulder, when we were together that night we didn't
use protection. I knew, no matter how upset you were,
you wouldn't have overlooked it unless it wasn't, for
some reason, necessary . I knew you were disease
free, I'd had to review your complete medical history
with enough emergency rooms to know that, and you been
to the ER with me to enough to know I wasn't taking
any medication so when I found out I wasn't pregnant
even though it would have been a good time for it, I
started to grow suspicious about what you might have
known. I saw a doctor and after some tests, she
confirmed it; I'm infertile. I just don't know if I
always was or if when I was gone," she swallowed
hard, as tears began to run down her cheeks, "they
took that away from me."
"Dana," he said gently, lifting her chin to look into
her eyes, "I took it back."
She kissed him lightly, taking comfort in his words
even though she wasn't sure of their meaning and
waited for him to explain.
He continued, "I found your records at the clinic,
they had harvested your ova and had them frozen with
samples from hundreds of other women. I stole back a
tube. I had Byers and Langley hack into another
clinic's database, create a false account under the
name Katherine D. Mulder, and then Langley posed as a
driver for a GenMed Technologies and just `dropped
off' the tube for long-term storage. Langley thought
it was alien DNA."
Dana stood up and walked to the window, silently
staring at the snow.
"Did you want to be?" he asked in a barely audible
voice.
"Want what?" she asked, turning around.
"To be pregnant with my child."
"Yes," she answered simply.
He stared at her, the light from the street lamps
glowing around her, obscuring her face but
highlighting her form.
"Come here," he requested.
She walked back to the bed and stood silently before
him.
Mulder looked up at her, "Dana, tonight I'm going to
make you my lover.
"Mulder, unless I'm greatly mistaken you've been
there, done that."
Mulder grabbed her by waist and then dragged her onto
the bed, rolling on top of her and pining her to the
bed with his legs.
"I'm going to let you pretend I couldn't kick you ass
over tea kettle onto the floor, Mulder."
He chuckled and began unbuttoning her pajama top,
"Okay, Dana you can play games if you want but you
know exactly what I mean. I want this to be hot and
agonizingly slow. This time, I want it to be a
physical manifestation of our feelings, not our
desires."
"Mulder," she breathed, as he began kissing the base
of her throat. She heard him say, "Slow, it's going
to be so slow, and you're going to call me Fox, Dana.
You're going to moan it against my mouth when I make
you come," and then she lost herself in him.
******
Walter Skinner sat in a restaurant in Boston's North
End morosely staring at a cup of espresso. At this
same time yesterday he had been delighted to find Dana
Scully's home and downright ecstatic when he realized
Mulder was there. Ecstatic that was, until he saw
them in what he thought was a lover's embrace. He
waited until dark and spied on them long enough to
confirm that they were most definitely lovers. God
only knew for how long, he didn't even want to think
about the possibility that they were lovers while they
were partners. They been open about their fierce
loyalty to one another at the Bureau, he could just
imagine what a force they would have been in the field
together as secret lovers, under extreme stress and
away from prying eyes. Well, he thought, now I have no
idea what their answer will be. He would think no
couple who had gone though all they had would want to
return to the machinations of the Bureau now but now
that they were together again they might want to
continue their search. Might as well get it over
with, he thought, throwing money on the table and
walking out onto the street to his double parked car.
********
He sat in his rental car outside the brownstone
waiting for his former agents to get out of bed. How
many times can two people do it in one morning, it's
almost eleven o'clock, he thought irritably. An hour
later he was relieved to see movement downstairs. I
just hope they're dressed, he thought as he knocked on
the door.
********
"Fox!" Dana yelled from the top of rung of the
step-ladder in the pantry.
He appeared in the doorway, barefoot, wearing jeans
and pulling a shirt on. He smiled when he saw her
balancing on her toes trying to reach the top self and
missing, even with the step ladder.
"If you make a short joke, I'll-"
"Don't worry Dana," he said, grasping her waist and
swinging her down, "I remember what a good shot you
are, no short jokes from me."
She rolled her eyes at him, "I thought I heard someone
at the door."
"I made coffee before I got in the shower, if you get
the mugs, I'll go check."
********
"Fox, who is it?"
Walter Skinner was speechless, despite the fact he
knew what they had been doing all morning, he hadn't
been prepared for the sight of his former agents. Fox
Mulder stood in the doorway wearing jeans and an
unbuttoned oxford shirt, Scully walked up behind him,
putting an arm around his waist. If the site of Scully
with swollen lips, hair still damp from the shower and
Mulder half-dressed, sporting an obvious love bite on
his neck, and a drowsy well-loved look on his face
wasn't enough, Scully had called Mulder, Fox. This
was not going to be a comfortable visit.
Scully looked perplexed, Mulder acted as though there
was nothing usual about the visit and asked, "Sir,
would you like to come in?"
"Yes. Thank you, Mulder, I would like to speak to you
and Scully," Skinner replied as Mulder ushered him
into the living room.
Skinner noticed Scully eyeing him warily as she sat on
the sofa opposite the chair he chose. She remained
stone-faced and silent.
"Would you like a coffee, sir? I was just getting a
cup for Dana and myself," asked Mulder.
"Thank you, yes," Skinner waited until Mulder left the
room. He was about to say something when Scully
spoke.
"I don't suppose you're here to bring us good news."
Skinner couldn't read the expression on her face.
"Has Mulder been here in Boston the whole time?" he
asked.
"No."
Skinner waited for a more in-depth explanation and
when he realized none was forthcoming he began, "Agent
Scully, I-"
"I am no longer a federal agent," said Scully tersely.
"I am here to see if you and Agent Mulder are
interested in changing that."
"I am longer a federal agent either, and I have no
interest in changing that," said Mulder returning to
the living room. He had buttoned his shirt and put on
a pair of moccasins. He handed Skinner a cup of
coffee and turned to Dana, passing her a mug. As
their fingers touched, she looked up at him and he was
pleased to see in her expression that she hadn't been
worried about his answer.
Dana warmed her hands on the pottery mug before
sipping the coffee. She smiled mentally as she
realized Mulder had mixed cinnamon -her favorite- into
the filter with the grounds before brewing; Skinner
hated flavored coffee. She turned toward him as began
speaking.
"Mulder, Scully, I think you're being hasty in your
decision. You haven't even asked why the Bureau sent
me or what the offer is. I know you both have
unresolved questions you still need the answers for.
The best place way to search for those answers is as
federal agents." Skinner held little hope that he was
getting anywhere with them. He felt his stomach sink
as Mulder sat down next to Dana, sitting so close that
their thighs were touching, and he almost cringed as
Dana laid her hand on Mulder's knee. By refusing to
act with even a shadow of the professional decorum
they had shown at the Bureau they were sending him a
clear message about their intentions.
"Excuse me for saying so, but since when is the Bureau
concerned with Fox and I's personal interests."
"Scully, quite frankly, I think that's a cheap shot,"
said Skinner, he noticed Mulder and Scully looking at
each other, as though trying to come to a silent
consensus and felt his hope that this could be
salvaged disappearing.
Mulder spoke, " I have the enough of those answers to
satisfy me and so does Dana. The rest is no longer
important. We've given enough of ourselves and our
time to a government whose intrigues, instead of
uncovering the truth, caused us to become more deeply
mired in lies," he paused.
Scully interrupted, and staring intently at Skinner
said, "Why don't we just lay our cards on table, sir.
Mulder and I are lovers. We have no interest in
resuming careers with the FBI, so why don't you just
tell us why your making the offer and what's behind
it."
Skinner paused, shocked that she was so frank about
their relationship. He noticed Mulder covering the
hand she had rested on his knee with his own and
entwining their fingers. They were looking at each
other with an intensity that gave Skinner the chills.
They had always been able to communicate with a look,
he had seen it enough times when they had been called
into his office, but the way they were glazing at each
other now was cool and peaceful, and somehow at the
same time blatantly pornographic. Jesus, he thought,
if they were lovers while they were at the Bureau they
had hidden it well.
Mulder spoke, as though reading his thoughts, "We
weren't lovers when we were agents. Even though it
may have put you in a difficult position we would have
felt it necessary to tell you if we were involved."
"Thank you," he said, grateful to know they had
trusted him that much, he hoped they still did.
"I am here because I was told in no uncertain terms to
bring you back to the Bureau even if it meant having
to reopen the X-Files. I have no idea who made the
decision or why. I agreed to track you both down and
make the offer."
"Why?" Scully demanded.
Skinner didn't answer right away and Scully only had
to look at Mulder to see he knew why. She mentally
withdrew the question and asked another, "What are the
consequences if we don't return?"
"I don't know. If I knew why they wanted you back
maybe I could answer that but I have no idea why
they're suddenly interested in you again. You've been
ignored and virtually forgotten over the past year,
this was completely out of the blue so I can't comment
on the consequences."
"Speculate for us," urged Mulder wryly.
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,"
Skinner quoted, shrugging his shoulders, "I assume
they decided to bring you back where they can keep a
close eye on you. I can only guess that if you don't,
they'll rifle over every detail of your past caseload
looking for something to accuse you of, or blackmail
you with so they can put you in another position they
have control over."
The room was silent for several moments and then
Mulder asked, "What if you gave them something to hold
over us?" Skinner just stared.
"Tell them we're lovers, that we have been, secretly,
for three years. They should be able to find plenty
of incidents in our files that could be construed as
unprofessional behavior because we were involved. If
we ever tried to re-enter the Bureau, or law
enforcement, or even the military they could use that
to stop us. We wouldn't be able to regain a position
of authority investigate whatever it is they're so
concerned with concealing," Mulder finished.
"Are you sure you want me to do that?"
"They could easily find out anyway," Scully answered,
knowing Skinner would want her verbal approval along
with Mulder's.
"They could have easily tracked you down too, but they
sent me to do it. I want you to think this over
before making a final decision. If I give them
information and they still feel you're a threat out on
your own, they could decide to actively use it against
you."
"How so?" Scully asked.
"They could come up with something that could be used
to bring civil charges against one or both of you,
saying you conspired with each other because you were
lovers," Skinner guessed, but he could see they
weren't convinced, "Off the top of my head, just the
incident involving Mulder's removal of a federal
prisoner without authorization could be twisted into a
kidnapping charge, and they would bring charges
againest you," he said nodding at Scully, "saying you
were an accessory. I could think of several other
situations that could be similarly utilized in this
way."
"Point well taken, we'll think about it and give you a
decision in the next few days," said Scully rising
from the couch.
Skinner had the distinct impression he was being
dismissed and it almost made him smile. Mulder walked
him to the door.
Mulder reached for the doorknob,"No matter what we
decide we're not going back, especially not to be kept
under someone's thumb."
Skinner just nodded. In a way he was relieved they
weren't coming back but he was worried the course of
action they were considering would be even more
dangerous. He handed Mulder a card, "Just call my
cell phone when you've made up your minds."
Mulder found Dana back in the kitchen pouring the
remaining coffee between her mug and a Close
Encounters coffee cup. He raised an eyebrow at her as
she handed it to him.
"I found it at a yard sale just after I moved here.
It made me think of you so I bought it," she
explained.
"I think Skinner's lost more hair," Mulder commented
as he sat down at the kitchen table.
She ignored the comment, "Fox, what do you want to
do?"
He gulped the last of the coffee and walked to the
sink saying, "You laid it out for Skinner. I think
what we have to do is apparent."
"Okay, but-"
He rinsed the coffee cup and turned to her, "Grab
your coat then, we've got a lot to do." He paused
for a moment in his stride to the door, " Do you want
to call your mother?"
"For what? And where are we going?" asked Scully who
had followed him to the front door and was pulling on
her boots nevertheless.
"To tell her we're getting married," he said in the
same impatience tone he'd often used when they were
partners and she wasn't following some wild theory of
his.
"Excuse me!?" Scully froze in the act of lacing her
left boot.
Mulder turned to her, "Dana, you agreed with me that
we have only one course of action, to let Skinner feed
them the Romeo and Juliet story of us as secret,
star-crossed lovers. If we do that and it back fires
on us, if they decide it's not enough to just hold it
over us and they try to bring-"
"Civil charges, as spouses we couldn't be made to
testify against one another which would make it their
word against whichever one of us they chose to go
after," concluded Dana, "But they could still build a
case against either one of us without the other's
testimonies."
"Yeah, but it would be harder, and besides despite the
fact that it wouldn't at all change our relationship,
the alpha male in me would love to have a piece of
paper that said we legally belong to one another," he
paused, "Do you not want to marry me?" He watched
Scully carefully, he wasn't really sure of her feeling
regarding marriage in general, never mind to him but
he hadn't thought she'd object.
She slowly pulled her coat and the leather gloves that
had so fascinated Mulder the day before, on and then
turned to him, "What's the third thing?"
He just looked at her blankly.
"The third thing you can cook?" she supplied.
"Chili. I'm a guy, any self-respecting guy can make
chili."
"All right, I like chili. Let's go. We'll have to
get blood tests, apply for the license, wait, and
then-"
"Do you want to call your mother?" Mulder repeated,
unfazed by her odd question.
"No," she answered, "I can hardly call her and tell
her after not having seen each other for a year we're
getting married since we have hot sex and because the
government's blackmailing us since we have knowledge
of secret defense department experiments involving
alien DNA. Believe me, it's better if we tell her
later."
"You're right," Mulder deadpanned, "People are just
getting used to the idea that there was once
microbiotic life on Mars. The alien DNA thing would
shock her."
She rolled her eyes at him and waited for him to
finish putting on his coat before dragging him out the
door.
*******
Four Days Later
"Dr. Mulder, Dr. Scully, your room is ready. I'll get
someone to take your bags up."
Mulder looked up at the clerk, "Thanks, ma'am, but
I'll take them, we only have two."
She smiled at him and handed him a the key, "It's on
the fourth floor on the right."
"Ma'am?" questioned Scully when they got on the
elevator.
"Dana, we're in Georgia, I have to let my southern
gentleman's charm shine through," Mulder admonished.
"Oh, pardon me, should I don a white lawn dress and
meet you out on the veranda for a mint
julep."
"Depends, what a you gonna wear under the dress?" he
asked with a practiced leer as they stepped off the
elevator. She grabbed the room key from him and
walked in front of him to open the door.
"Hey, wait," he protested, as she marched into the
room and crossed to the window, "Aren't I supposed to
carry you across the threshold?"
She didn't bother to answer, just turned to raise an
eyebrow at him before throwing the window open and
leaning out. "We have a great view of the river,"
she commented, watching the last rays of the sun
glinting off the water.
"Well, that would probably explain why they call the
street we're on River Street wouldn't it?"
She snatched a pillow off the bed and threw it at him,
he dropped their luggage and neatly caught it,
flashing her grin.
"Seriously, Mulder why did we stop here? I thought we
were going to head out to one of the islands?"
"Oooo, it's Mulder again, already? Okay, *Scully*,
although the beautiful coastal islands of Georgia
managed to conceal John-John's wedding, I thought we
had a few less people to avoid than he and his bride
did. And since it's December, the ocean breezes on
the islands might be a bit cool, and it's almost
Christmas."
She looked confused at his garbled explanation, "What
does Christmas have to do with it?"
"One, I have to get you a gift and that's much easier
to do here. Two, every year at this time the city
re-enacts Sherman's taking of the city at the end of
his infamous `March to the Sea' and I've always wanted
to see it. Three, even if Christmas wasn't
approaching, the bakery at the end of the street makes
the world's best pecan pie and since we didn't have a
wedding cake..."
"What are we going to do, send Skinner a piece?"
"Wellll," he drawled thoughtfully, "they do ship, and
after Byers calls his cell phone and breaks the news
to him, Skinner may need something to raise his blood
sugar."
She chuckled, "Your worried about his blood *sugar*?
Try blood pressure, maybe I should write out a
prescription for Vasotec and send it to him." She
took her suitcase from him and tossed it on the bed.
She unzipped it and began rummaging through.
"What are you looking for?" he asked as he hung up his
jacket and handed several hangers to her.
"All the red silk negligees I packed," she quipped.
He sucked in a long breath, "It's cruel to tease a man
like that, Dana." He finished unpacking and flopped
on the bed, "I haven't been this tired since I left
the Bureau."
"Seven hours of marriage and you're as tired as you
were from chacing serial killers and clones for four
years? I think you're in trouble, Fox."
"If you kill me, at least I'll go with a smile on my
face."
She laughed, "Take a nap and rest up while I shower,
old man."
In the shower, she reflected on the last few days.
They were a jumble, she remembered having a blood
test, for a much happier reasons than she usually did.
She remembered packing up gifts for her family and
sending them to her mother's with a card explaining
she would be away for the holidays. She remembered
buying the plain gold band, wrapped snugly in her
suitcase, for Fox. She recalled the discussion about
where to live, he was confident he could secure a new
teaching position so he insisted they stay in Boston
near her oncologist. She recalled her amazement when
he told her not to worry about money. He confessed his
parents had left him all their property, four homes
with a combined value of approximately two million
dollars. His mother's stock portfolio, other
investments, and the trust fund his father had set up
for Samantha had also been left to him now that his
sister's death had been confirmed.
She smiled as she thought about their wedding, if you
could call it that. They had taken the subway to city
hall, had a clerk and a someone waiting to file a
permit with the planning department witness the event,
and had jumped back on the subway to get to the
airport for their flight to Savannah.
She rinsed her hair and stepped out of the shower to
towel off, peeking out the door to see if he was
asleep. He was, he had removed his shoes but was
still fully dressed stretched out across the bed. She
smiled, since he never slept when she first knew him,
his now constant cat-napping seemed almost comical to
her
She dried her hair and as she was putting on a light
robe she heard a knock at the door. She tip-toed
across the room and opened the door to find a
deliveryman.
"Are you either Dr. Mulder or Dr. Scully," he
inquired.
"Dr. Scully," she answered.
"Good, I'm from the restaurant down the street, we had
an order called in for you," he handed her the
packages.
"Thank you," she said assuming Mulder had ordered food
while she was in the shower. She grabbed her purse
and rummaged around for a tip.
"No, that's okay, it's all taken care of," he said
disappearing down the hallway.
Then she noticed a white envelope on top. Opening
it, she looked at the plain white card inside. It's
note read:
Dana and Mulder,
Since we couldn't be there for the blessed event we
thought we'd send you a gift along with our regards.
We ordered local specialities for you. We included
oysters and although they are considered an
aphrodisiac Frohike commented Mulder would have to be
certifiable to need any encouragement. We wish you
much happiness, The Gunmen
Dana opened the packages, in them was an entire pecan
pie, a bottle of peach wine, a bottle of champagne, a
dozen oysters Rockefeller, crab cakes, and a half a
dozen pop overs, along with plates, glasses and
silverware.
She cut a piece of the pie and brought it over to the
bed, waving a fork full under Mulder's nose.
The smell woke him instantly, "You brought food,
you're an angel."
"Actually, the Gunmen sent it," she told him as she
handed him the note. He read it and clutched it
against he chest chuckling, "Well, Dana, Frohike's
probably right, I don't need encouragement but bring
on the oysters anyway, so long as they're cooked."
They lay in bed two hours later sipping peach wine.
Mulder was naked, his hair still damp from the shower
and Scully was dressed only in an old button-down
shirt of his.
"Fox, I have something for you," she said, as she
reached under her pillow to retrieve the small package
she had hidden while he was in the shower. He looked
at her inquisitively as she handed him the silver
wrapped box.
"Is this what I think it is?" he asked with a raised
eyebrow. She shrugged enigmatically at him.
"Wait a minute," he said, crossing the room to pull a
similar small box from his luggage, "I have something
for you."
He handed the gift to her but noticed her hesitating.
"Open your's first," he urged. She unwrapped and
opened the tiny box to find a simple gold wedding
band, with a scroll and the phrase "In My End Is My
Beginning" inscribed in the pink gold inside, like a
secret.
"In My End Is My Beginning," he quoted to her, "It was
the personal motto of Mary Queen of Scots. I was
fascinated by her when was I was at Oxford. I visited
all the places she lived, she had quite a life. She
was sent away from her family in Scotland to Paris as
a child, raised to be the French queen only to have
the king die soon after their marriage, then back to
Scotland to rule a country that considered her a
foreigner and didn't trust her or her faith. She
tried hard to be a good sovereign but no one was
interested in her ideas and she became hated for her
beliefs. In her desperation she began making bad
decisions, she trusted the wrong people, and it cost
her her life."
"Her cousin Queen Elizabeth had her beheaded, right?"
He nodded, "She never achieved the recognition or
notoriety she so desperately wanted during her
lifetime but after her death, her end, her story
spread, her fame grew and ..." "It somehow,
ironically, became her beginning," finished Dana.
"Yes," he agreed, "just as my life began that night,
the night my life as Agent Mulder ended. And you gave
me a beginning, that night you gave me the strengthen
to begin again."
He took the small ring from her but paused before
putting it on her finger. "Dana, I know our feelings
for each other run deep but I also know we were given
little choice in this matter. I want to give this to
you but if you have doubts, if you think this isn't
want you'll always want, please tell me now, because
for me this is forever, and," he finished huskily, "I
don't think I could begin again."
She looked into his eyes, but for once could see
nothing but the green, gold, and brown flecks that
seemed to swirl together in them. She took the ring
from him but did not put it on, and instead clenched
it in her right hand.
"Open yours," she answered.
He tore the wrapping paper and pulled the ring from
the box. It was a plain gold ring, much like hers, in
the inside were the cryptic words, `What do I have?'.
He looked at her for an explanation.
"When we were first assigned to work together, I had
nothing but your suspicion, your reluctance, your
disdain. I no longer have those things."
He tried to say something but she silenced him by
putting a finger over his lips, "Shh," she moved her
fingers to caress the side of his face, "But, then
after working together, I earned your respect, I had
your friendship, and eventually I had your trust. I
have those things still." She softly touched her lips
to the side of his face, slowly placing feather light
kisses across his cheekbones as she spoke. "Over these
past few years I have had many things from you- your
contempt, your strengthen, your concern, your beliefs,
I have had your protection, your anger, your support,
your sympathy," She gentle bit his earlobe and felt
his breath grow ragged as she sucked on it. She
continued speaking while running her hands across his
chest, catching her fingers in his chest hair and
tugging slightly. "Eventually I had your joy, your
desire, your need, your love," she whispered kissing
his neck, brushing her fingertips over his nipples.
"Love," he repeated hoarsely, his voice catching as
she reached down to grasp the lengthen of him. He
began to have difficulty paying attention as she
stroked him. She let go and kissed him full on the
mouth. She tasted like ripe peaches, suddenly he has
the impression he was standing in the warm summer sun
and he had the vague thought that he now knew the
drunk, dizzy feeling bees must have while flying
through a fruit orchard on a hot day.
"Yes, I have your love, but I've never wanted to
settle for less, Fox," she murmured seductively, "I'll
be your lover but I can't be your wife if you're not
mine, if I can't have everything. What do I have?"
He kissed her again. "You have my heart," his tongue
traced her lower lip, "You have my faith," he nibbled
along her jawline, stopping at the pulse point beneath
her ear, he was pleased to feel her heart racing as
out of control as his was. "You have my confidence,"
he continued, "my hope, you have my companionship, my
beliefs." He kissed her again, and surprised when she
pulled away from him.
"But I want everything, I want to give everything and
receive everything in return. Do you want everything
Fox?"
"Yes," he moaned, pulling her mouth back to his, "I
want everything. Give me everything, Dana."
"Can you give me everything in return?"
He pushed her over back onto the bed, unbuttoning and
peeling the shirt off her body, touching her almost
reverently.
"I want to," he replied.
"You hold me in your hand, you only need my consent to
make me yours. But I need to know do you still
believe your soul belongs to the woman once called
Sarah? Is this life just a waiting period until you
can be with her again? Do you believe?" she asked
earnestly, pulling his body down to cover hers.
He gasped at the feeling of skin against skin. "No,
no, I can't believe."
"Why? Why don't you believe?"
As she continued to caress him, her hands roaming
everywhere, he whispered, "Because I am yours, all of
me, everything I am belongs to you. I give everything
to you Dana, always, for always."
She wrapped her legs around him. "Make me your wife,
Fox."
As he sank into her, feeling her legs clench around
his waist, he sobbed into her throat, "Please, please,
Dana. I am for you. I begin and end with you."
Time seemed to be moving forward only for his body as
he moved within her. His mind, his mind was frozen
waiting for her consent, her words that would tell him
his gift was accepted, her words that would tell him
she was his in return.
He felt her hands leave his back momentarily, when
they returned he felt her warm fingers trace his
shoulder blades, warm accept for the cool band of gold
she had slid onto her left hand, her silent
permission.
She writhed under him and he thought she was beyond
words but he heard her say, "I am your mate. I give
myself to you. I take everything and I give back
everything in return."
He could feel himself losing control, at her words, at
the feel of the smooth gold ring against his skin, and
when she arched up into him, crying out, he dissolved,
his world going black.
******
"I am sorry to report that although I found Dana
Scully and Fox Mulder they refused to return to the
Bureau."
"Really?"
The noncommittal comment gave Skinner the chills.
"And why was it that you couldn't convince them?"
"Well, sir, it would seem that they had been
conducting a clandestine lover affair for several
years and-"
"Really?" said the voice asked again as it exhaled.
"Yes, really," Skinner repeated as he mentally
pictured the wisps of cigarette smoke drifting on the
other side of the phone.
"Where are they?"
"I don't know. They contacted me yesterday to let me
know they got married and had left Boston."
"Married?" the voice chuckled drily, "How commonplace.
I expected them to be so much more... interesting
than that."
Skinner cringed at the silky way the voice had
caressed the word `interesting'. "Is there anything
else you require?" he asked tersely.
"No, no, nothing for now," the voice replied, still
chuckling, "Nothing for now."
THE END