"Mulder, when did you stop believing?"

Her question, so short and eloquently put, slowed Fox Mulder's world to a halt. Tired hazel eyes looked up at where Scully had moved to half sit on the edge of his desk. Removing his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had longed to tell her about his meeting with Samantha for some time. Only the circumstances had never seemed right, so he had remained silent.

"When did your quest stop being important?"

Mulder realized that his partner's questions would not cease, and he resolved to admitting to her a truth he had guarded very carefully in his heart. Not meaning intentionally to keep it from her, but attempting to hide it from himself. Born in a moment of agonizing rejection, he had sought to forget Samantha's cold words. It was now, weeks and months later that he was finally being forced to face the only truth he hadn't the heart to seek.

For years, he had allowed his life to revolve around a simple idea, the quest to find his sister. In his mind, she would forever be eight years old. She would forever adore her older brother. His memories of childhood were only bright in the years she had been in his life. Summer vacations to the beach, playing on the swing in the back yard.

When forced to face Scully, the only person who meant anything to him, with his sister's rejection, he faltered. He feared that she might see a similar shortcoming in him that had driven Samantha to refuse to be a part of his life.

He had no idea how long he had sat, considering what he would say to Scully, when he again met her concerned yet confused gaze. He knew the ties she had to this job were few and far between, and there was little keeping her bound to such a dead end position.

"I met Samantha," was all he said. His statement was amazingly simple, and he wondered if she could possibly grasp the complexity of the emotions behind it. He watched as the confusion lessened somewhat in her eyes, but the concern remained.

"When?"

Silently he prayed to a God he was unsure even existed that she would understand why he had waited so long to tell her. "While you were in the hospital. The smoking bastard brought her to me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her eyes held back on a look of hurt that she knew might shatter his fragile hold on his emotions. She could sense the depths of agony that plagued his every move. For some time Scully had noticed an uncertainty coming from him, but had been unable to determine a reason.

The rebuttal he had feared would fill her voice was absent, and he dared continue. "There didn't seem to be a good time. So much was happening right then." Her look begged for him to continue, and he did so after a moment's pause. "She rejected me. Led me to believe the quest that had consumed my every fibre had been in vain."

"Mulder, I . . . "

His eyes, brimmed with tears longing to be shed, silently begging her for a chance to finish. "What I didn't see right away, was that it didn't matter." Again, the confusion returned to her features. Still she remained silent, allowing him to go on in his own time. "At first, all I could see was how much my single-minded pursuit had cost. Not how much it had cost me, as much as how greatly it had affected your life. You didn't ask to be a part of some great scheme that neither of us have any control over."

Standing, she interrupted. "Mulder, I may not have had a choice in being assigned to work with you. And early on, I might have wished I didn't have to. But there was no one who forced me to stay. I'm here because I want to be, this quest of yours has become ours at some point along the line. I told you once that I had the strength of your beliefs. I still believe that to be true, Mulder."

She paused, but Mulder failed to begin speaking again, so she pushed forward. "I'm sorry about your sister, Mulder." Her voice had softened somewhat, finally coming to grasp the source behind the shadows that had fallen over him in recent months. "Wait, what do you mean it didn't matter?"

Mulder sighed softly, stood and walked around his desk to stand in front of Scully. "Initially I was destroyed by Samantha's refusal to listen to me, or be a part of my life. It was only days later that I had my eyes opened to what was truly important in my life. I was given a gift."

After a moment's hesitation, he continued. "I was given you."

"Mulder?"

She had only spoken his name, but her question was obvious. "You were given back to me, Scully. When I found out that you had beaten the cancer, I can't describe the relief I felt. So while my quest was crumbling everywhere around me, what mattered most solidified." Scully stood motionless, somewhat shocked by what she was hearing. "What I gained in that ever short period of time far outweighed what I lost."

"So you stopped believing?"

Closing his eyes, he contemplated his answer. "I stepped back to reevaluate my beliefs. My turn as a pawn in a sadistic chess game is over. I don't jump to quite so many conclusions about little gray men anymore. There is one thing that I nothing could change my belief in."

"What's that, Mulder?"

"Us," he said smiling. "Out of chaos and misery bloomed a most delicate flower. I will always believe in us, Scully."

"Mulder . . . "

Walking back around his desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out an envelope. "I wrote this a while back, but I could never bring myself to give it to you. Just read it sometime, okay?" He handed her the envelope that was simply marked "Scully." Suddenly uncomfortable with the emotional intensity that filled the room, he backed away from where she was standing her face betraying her somewhat shocked state.

He went back to reading the files he had been attempting to sort through before Scully's curious question. For her part, Scully merely looked at where Mulder was sitting. He again had his glasses on and was munching on sunflower seeds, doing his best to appear normal.

Placing the letter in her briefcase, she respected his need to back off some. It had been late in the day when she had finally dared voice her concern and thus it wasn't long before it was time to head home. Both packed up what they needed to take home for the evening and walked to the parking deck together. A calm quiet had fallen between them, but for the first time in many weeks it wasn't ominous.

Saying good-bye beside her car, she climbed in and started the vehicle. Pulled out of the lot, she watched in the rearview mirror as Mulder walked to his car and drove off in the other direction. During her drive home, she couldn't help but grow increasingly curious about he contents of the letter that Mulder had given her. By the time she finally reached her apartment, Scully had grown anxious to discover what it was Mulder had wanted her to know for so long. She locked the door behind her and pulled the small envelope out of her briefcase. Placing her jacket and keys down on a door side table, she sliced the top of the envelope open, and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

Unfolding it, she saw several handwritten lines followed by what appeared to be a song. Sitting down on the couch, she began to read.

***

Scully,

How can I thank you? I've been sitting here in my darkened apartment for several hours trying to answer that question. Someday I'll tell you about Samantha, and I'll try to express the roller coaster that my heart has been on in the time since. For no matter the happiness that she is forever linked within the recesses of my memories, she could never compare with the reality that has become my present. All it took to make me survive her rejection, was the news that you were okay.

For some time, I have longed for the words to tell you of this revelation. It was tonight that I heard a song on the radio that seemed to grasp what I was feeling to the best extent. I scrambled to copy the words down as best I could, and I hope that I have them right. Maybe through this, you will be able to know my heart. It is my greatest wish.

*
There are places I'll remember
all my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better,
some are gone, and some remain.

All these places had their meanings
with lovers and friends I still can recall
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I've loved them all.

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares to you
And these memories lose their meanings
when I think of love as something new.

I know I'll never lose affection
for people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think of them
In my life, I love you more.

In my life, I love more.
*

I hope you can follow my meaning through these words. And know that you are the most important person in my life. In my life, you are still, and will forever be, the only one I trust.

M.
***

Scully found herself fighting the tears that had begun to sting her eyes. She read and reread Mulder's letter, touched that he would seek to explain his feelings to her. It was not often that either of them opened up to the other. They had always known what the other was feeling implicitly. Scully felt as if she had been given a rare glimpse into his heart.

Stretching, she picked up her cordless telephone and punched in the familiar seven digits of Mulder's home number. Listening to the distant rings, she was relieved when she heard his voice. "Mulder."

"I just read your letter. Thank you . . . " She relaxed back down onto the couch, comfortable in simply talking to her partner. "It's you and me, partner."

She could hear Mulder let out an almost nervous breath. "You and me. I like that, Scully." Each sitting in their respective apartment, both Mulder and Scully smiled.

fin