A Familiar Heart
Chapter Six


Annapolis, Maryland
December 24, 1945


"Dana?  Would you stir this for me, please?"

Staring out the window above the kitchen sink,
Dana barely registered her mother's request. 
Mesmerized by the snow falling outside, her mind
drifted back to a similar scene two days ago in
the wilds of Utah.  Like the snow, she thought
she'd left what had happened behind her.  But
just this morning, the snow *and* the memories
caught up with her.  Waking from an exhausted,
twelve hour sleep, the first thing she'd brought
to mind was his face.  Like a specter that
wouldn't leave her alone, he haunted her.  Would
she ever be rid of him?

"Dana?"

Close, her mother's voice made her start.  She
dropped the coffee cup she held, and it shattered
in the porcelain sink.  "God, I'm sorry, Mom,"
she said, rushing to pick up the pieces.

Maggie stilled her hands, coming to her aid with
a smile.  "That's okay, sweetie," she said
softly, brushing aside Dana's shaking hands. 
"I'll get it.  You only just got in late
yesterday evening, you know.  I'm sure you're
still tired."

Tired was an understatement.  She'd driven almost
non-stop, finally leaving the snowstorm behind
her to where she could make good time.  All the
while searching her rearview mirror for signs
she'd been followed, it was a harrowing trip. 
She'd arrived during dinner, and immediately fell
into her mother's arms, her tears rising unbidden
at the safety of a loving embrace.  She never was
one to break down, and thankfully, neither of her
parents had commented, thinking her emotional
lapse a product of her confinement at Los Banos. 
Little did they know she felt as if her world had
been turned upside down, and it had nothing to do
with any residual upset over spending the war as
a POW.

"I am," she said, though it was an untruth.  Her
nerves were on edge still, and the sleep she'd
had last night, while taking care of her fatigue,
had been restless.  And walking around the house
this morning under the watchful eyes of her
parents hadn't helped.  She expected her mother
to suggest psychiatric commitment at any moment;
all on the sly, of course.  A Scully would never
have need of a sanitarium - maybe a retreat? 
There was nothing a little time spent with the
Lord couldn't cure.

She watched her mother clean up the mess in the
sink, and felt instant guilt at her own thoughts. 
Her mother really was a fine woman, typical for
the times.  Loving, religious, respectable... but
bowing to her husband's will and her church's
doctrines without question.  Dana had once
believed that was the only way as well - but now,
she knew that any walk down the same path by
herself would have to be as a partner, not as a
servant.  She'd lived through too much not to
value her freedom and her worth as a human being
with a mind of her own.

"Mom?  Let me do that."  Calm now, she tried to
get back into the cooking of Christmas Eve
dinner, knowing the simple tasks of beating and
attacking the pots and pans with a spoon could
only help ease some of her tension.

Maggie gave her a small smile.  "I'm almost done. 
Would you stir the potatoes, dear?  I don't want
them to stick."

"Sure." Actually, it was just the distraction she
needed.  She dove right in, the sudden silence in
the kitchen prompting her to ask, "When's Charlie
getting here again?"

"This evening sometime..." Her mother kept on,
and Dana listened with half an ear to the facts
she already knew.  But it was nice to hear them
again, to have the pleasant drone of her mother's
voice to keep her occupied as she worked on the
potatoes.

Charlie, her younger brother by two years, was
marrying her friend Ellen on New Year's Eve.  It
was amazing really, that the girl who'd grown up
with her, who'd shared high school and college
with her, had caught the eye of her wandering
brother.  Ellen finally gave in to the 'kid' when
he'd graduated from high school.  The war had put
a crimp in their relationship, but it hadn't
mattered.  From their very first date, it was
obvious they were in love.  Ellen had patiently
worked stateside while Charlie had spent the war
in Honolulu, his keen mind tapped by the Navy to
work in intelligence.  Upon his return in May,
he'd proposed.  Dana was to be Ellen's maid of
honor; she'd happily accepted the post, though
she didn't look forward to spending the wedding
in taffeta and high heels.

Bill, her eldest brother, wouldn't arrive until
later on in the week.  With his wife Tara and
their two children, he was spending Christmas at
her parents' place in upstate Maine.

Melissa... God, she couldn't wait to see her
sister.  Though their reunion was bound to be
bittersweet - Melissa's husband had died in
Normandy last June.  Rob had been her perfect
match in every way, full of laughter and spirit.
Her mother had kept mum on the subject of her
son-in-law's death, but earlier in the day, Dana
had asked her father about it.  And her Dad, in
his own halting way, had told the tale of how
Melissa had been devastated.  But, in her usual
Scully way, she'd picked up and lived on, for
herself and her children.  Still living in her
house a few blocks away, she and the boys would
descend at the parents' for the traditional
Christmas Eve dinner, then spend the Santa day at
home.

It was a picturesque holiday, straight out of
Harper's Bazaar.  The smell of pot roast in the
kitchen, the faint aroma of her dad's cigars
wafting from the den, the decorated scotch pine
in the living room window, the anticipation of
seeing family and friends again, after being away
for so long.  She vowed then and there to let
herself enjoy it all.  Her life had changed, but
one thing remained the same - the love she shared
with her family.

Amidst her mother's running commentary, a pair of
hands circled Dana's waist and she jumped, the
spoon she held clanging against the side of the
pot.

"Sorry, sprite.  Didn't mean to scare you." The
words were playful but sincere, murmured into her
ear.

"Charlie!" Turning, she launched herself into his
hug.  He felt so solid, so huge, a big, lovable
bear of a brother.  Bill had been aloof like her
dad, but Charlie was her pal.  "When did you get
in?"

He pulled away, his smile beaming, looking so
handsome in his civie suit that he took her
breath away.  Similar in features to herself, his
blue eyes and reddish hair made most people
wonder if they were twins.  "Actually, I got in
late last night.  I told Mom I wanted to surprise
you.  I've been at Ellen's all day."

Dana gave Maggie a scolding stare.  Her mom
shrugged, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.  She
brushed aside the two of them, saying, "Go visit. 
Tell your Dad dinner will be ready in about a
half hour, then set the table, okay?"

Her mother, for all her pride and trying to
exercise control over her children, knew that
Dana and Charlie were close.  Closer even than
the two sisters.  Dana gave her mother a thankful
smile and pulled Charlie out of the kitchen.  "Go
give Dad the news, then come back."  She moved to
the china cabinet with a wink.

"Dad!" Charlie yelled, not moving an inch. 
"Dinner in thirty, okay?" He returned Dana's
wink.

"Roger that," her father yelled back.

Dana's lips pursed, but it was over a grin. 
"That's not what I meant.  Mom hates yelling in
the house, you know that."

"In case you didn't notice, sprite - Mom has
changed.  I think the house got to be way too
quiet for her these last few years."  His eyes
narrowed.  "Hair's growing back, huh?  Looks
good."

She self-consciously touched the chin-length mop,
glad that Charlie hadn't elaborated.  "Yeah.  I
think Mom was under the impression I was going to
show up bald for the wedding."

"Dana, Mom wouldn't have cared," he whispered,
moving to her side.  "I tell you, she's a
different person.  War does that to people."

Didn't she know it.  Lowering her chin, she tried
to hide the faint tremble of her lips from her
brother.  He was always perceptive to her
feelings, and she didn't want to ruin the
brightest moment in his and Ellen's lives with a
sad litany of her own troubles.  Thankfully, he
didn't pursue her sudden silence, instead
wrapping an arm around her shoulders to give her
a squeeze.  "Gotta fatten you up a bit, though. 
You look like you could blow away in a stiff
wind, sprite."

Only Charlie really knew of what she'd suffered
in Los Banos.  His was the first face she'd seen
as she'd gotten off the transport in Honolulu.  A
shadow of anger passed over his eyes at her shorn
hair, but he knew it had been necessary because
of the lice infestation in the camp.  Wordlessly,
he'd enfolded her in his embrace and let her cry. 
With his position in Naval Intelligence affording
him a bit of leeway, he'd gotten her away from
the media for the short week she'd spent in
Hawaii.  Safe at his place on the beach, she'd
told him of the horrors of internment.  It was
healing in a way that Naval counseling could
never be.  She'd made him promise to never tell
the rest of the family just how bad it had been;
like always, he just nodded and helped her move
on.  Charlie had always treated her as a person
and not a helpless female, as a bonus to simply
loving her for who she was, and not who society
expected her to be.

She wondered what he would say if she told him of
those few hours in Utah.  Would he be so
understanding, so forgiving, if she told him how
she'd stumbled into sex with an obvious madman? 
It hadn't been rape, but she doubted Charlie
would see it that way.  She so needed to talk
about it with someone, to absolve herself somehow
of the needless guilt that plagued her.  She knew
she shouldn't feel guilty at all, despite what
her Catholic upbringing demanded.  It was a
release of sorts for her, with a man her clouded
mind had designated a savior.  And no matter how
it ended, she still couldn't escape the
undeniable sense of peace and oneness she'd felt
in the encounter.

God - what if she was pregnant?  Then she'd
*have* to tell someone.  Not her parents,
certainly.  Not until it became necessary.  And
Charlie would most probably go all macho at the
revelation; his treatment of her as an equal up
until now would be thrown out the window, as he'd
insist she let him level the guy.  No, much as
she needed to talk about the incident, it was
best to keep quiet unless circumstances changed. 
Maybe she *would* follow her mother's panacea for
trouble and pray on it at midnight mass. 
Couldn't hurt.

Meanwhile, she'd have to smile and tell Charlie
all was well.

"I've put on a few pounds, Charlie.  Stop
worrying." She moved away to set out the plates
and silverware.

"Where?" He pulled open a drawer and reached in
for the linen napkins.  "In your toes?  Speaking
of - what's with the limp?"

Damn.  So far, she'd hidden her sprained ankle
from her parents, mainly by keeping the swelling
an pain down within the confines of her boot. 
But it had ballooned during the night, and
standing in the kitchen this morning had not
helped.  "Twisted it day before yesterday.  Don't
tell Mom," she warned, making a mental note to
concentrate on walking correctly when in front of
her parents.  "She already thinks I'm some kind
of invalid."

"Gotcha.  My lips are sealed - as long as you
think you can make it down the aisle when the
time comes."

"Charlie, I will make it down the aisle even if I
have to be carried all the way.  I wouldn't miss
it for the world."  Personal worries aside, she
couldn't contain her happiness at the fact that
her best friend was marrying her brother.

Charlie grinned.  "Carried?  Guess I could
arrange that - Fox is a pretty big guy.  I think
he could handle a wee thing like you."

It was the first time she'd heard Charlie speak
of his best man, and she was naturally curious. 
All she knew was that he'd met him during his
time overseas, and that the guy had roots around
Washington.  Apparently, they'd hit if off; but
then again, Charlie was an easy guy to like. 
"Fox?  His name is Fox?" Rolling her eyes, she
finished with the place settings, moving around
to the head of the table.

"Yeah.  Pretty unusual, huh?  He's joining us for
after dinner drinks tonight.  But he hates his
name so don't -"  Charlie knocked a fork off the
table to the floor, and surreptitiously wiped it
off with one of the napkins in the face of Dana's
arched eyebrow.  "Don't tell Mom.  Please."

Seemed her mother hadn't undergone *that* much of
a change.  Charlie was genuinely apprehensive
about her displeasure concerning the dropped
utensil.  Her mother must really be tiptoeing
around her if she'd let the broken coffee cup go
by without comment.

"About the fork or Fox?"

"Oh, she knows he's coming."

"The man with the hated first name doesn't have
family to spend Christmas with?"

"His parents live in Washington; his dad works
for the State Department.  He's stopping by on
his way to their place."  He gave her a sheepish
smile.  "I don't think they get along too well. 
Besides, when I mentioned today on the phone that
you were here already, he wanted to come meet
you."

Her sudden anger was evident in her growled,
"Charlie..."

"He's a nice guy, sprite.  Can I help it if I
think you should be as happy as I am?"

"I expected this sort of behavior from Mom, not
you."  Her censure was more bristling than she'd
liked.  Once upon a time, Charlie's meddling
would have been laughed at.  Now, it hit a sore
spot he wasn't even aware of.  She backed down,
noting Charlie's crestfallen face.  "I'm sorry, I
just..."

Once again, he moved in, this time gathering her
close to press a light kiss on her rumpled hair. 
"I know.  It's me who should apologize to you,
sprite.  Things will never be the same, will
they?"

Dana hugged him tightly, whispering, "No, they
won't." Though not for the reasons Charlie
suspected; she opened her mouth to clarify, when
she heard a clamoring from the foyer.

"We're here!  Where's Dana?"

Melissa, with brood in tow.  Dana pulled away
from her brother, sniffling away her anger and
fear to give him a shaky smile.  "Twins?" she
asked Charlie, referring to Melissa's kids.

"Yep," he replied, matching the inquisitive look
of hers.  "Names?"

He knew she'd had trouble with a fuzzy memory due
to the beriberi, and his gentle prompting was
designed to spare her an embarrassing moment to
come.  Spying Melissa's approach out of the
corner of her eye, she leaned up to press a light
kiss to Charlie's cheek.  "Daniel and... David?"

Giving her a kiss back, he whispered, "Donald."

"Right.  Thanks."  One last swipe at his cheek to
remove the faint traces of lipstick, and she
turned to greet Melissa.


**********


"And Donny sleeps at night just like his Aunt
Dana - dead to the world," Melissa laughed,
cuddling the shy toddler to her breast.

Dana joined in on the family's chuckling, but it
was without any real involvement.  She couldn't
very well blurt out that the days of sleeping
sound were gone for her.  It was one of the
reasons she'd been able to drive straight through
to Maryland - having to be constantly on guard in
the internment camp made for light sleeping.  But
to bring up her trials during the war would not
be in good taste, and would most probably cause a
stilted silence.  Especially since her mother
seemed to be making a real effort to steer the
subject away from the war with constant talk of
the wedding to come.  Dana didn't mind - the less
she thought of the horrible time at Los Banos,
the better.  It would eventually become in her
mind as an out-of-body experience, she knew.  To
be remembered as if she'd watched it all on a
movie screen, and not lived through it firsthand.

The recent night in Utah... that was entirely
different.  That was burned on her brain.  She
doubted that, even if she lived to be a hundred,
would she ever forget the way she felt in that
man's embrace.  And the way she felt afterward,
to still bear the brunt of his distrust.

She got up from the sofa and murmured something
about getting more coffee, drifting away from the
family reunion.  She caught Charlie's questioning
look, and gave him a reassuring nod before moving
to the tray on the bar.

The conversation carried on around her, but her
thoughts had once again shifted to the man she'd
let break through her barrier of reserve.  Had it
been all that bad?  Truthfully, she'd have to say
no.  She could understand his paranoia after
having lived on the edge for years herself. 
Maybe he'd suffered under the Japanese thumb just
like she had...

The doorbell pealed, interrupting her thoughts. 
Coffee cup in hand, she turned to face the rising
Charlie.  "I'm already up," she said with a
smile.  "Sit."

He nodded, though he perched on the end of his
chair like he was poised to come to her aid,
should she require it.  She knew the visitor was
most likely his best man.  Just as she knew
Charlie was still a bit guilty for trying to set
them up together; she felt his apologetic gaze
upon her still as she walked from the living
room.

A tall silhouette shifted beyond the frosted
glass of the front door.  Dana pasted a friendly
smile on her face and took a deep breath before
swinging the door wide.

"Come on in," she greeted.

The man hesitated a moment, his face lost in the
folds of his scarf.  But he swiped his polished
shoes on the welcome mat and walked past her into
the foyer, flapping the lapels of his black
woolen coat.  A shower of snowflakes fell to the
floor, instantly melting in the warmth of the
house.  "Sorry about that," he muttered.  The
gleam of six brass buttons on the double-breasted
suit twinkled at her, and she recognized the
dress blues immediately, seeing the gold stripes
peek out from the overcoat sleeve.

"That's all right, Lieutenant," she smiled.  She
put her cup down on the table by the coat rack
and reached for his coat.  "Let me take your
coat."  Reaching up, she moved behind him to
slide the heavy material from his shoulders,
realizing her lack of manners.  "Guess I should
introduce myself.  My name is -"

"Dana.  I know."

An imaginary fist hit her square in the chest
with a dull thud, and she clutched the coat
protectively, as if by doing so, her heart would
cease its frightened tripping.  Wide-eyed, she
watched him turn around and unwind the scarf,
then slowly lift his officer's hat from his head.

A soft, hopeful curl of his lips accompanied the
warm brush of his gaze over her face.  "Red. 
Never would have guessed."

Her shaky hand went to her hair, then snapped
back down as she realized the gesture was an
acknowledgment of the effect he had on her. 
"You," she breathed, anger tightening her voice. 
"Get out."

"Mulder!"

Charlie's shout made her jump and she looked away
from the intruder's steady perusal of her face. 
It couldn't be.  No.  God wouldn't be that cruel,
would he?

"Glad you could make it, pal." Charlie stood
between them, his hand engulfing Mulder's.  She
wanted to scream at him to watch - to not trust
this man.  But Charlie faced him with broad
familiarity, shaking his hand like he was a long-
lost friend.  He turned to Dana with a smile. 
"Dana, this is Fox Mulder."

Fox.  Jesus, she should have known the moment he
walked in, should have felt his overpowering
presence and seen the breadth of his body as it
encroached on hers.  What a horrible turn of
events.  Would he let on that -

"We've met."

Yes, he would, the bastard.  She raised furious
eyes to him, wondering if it would be in poor
taste to kick him in her parents' foyer.

"Just now," he added pointedly.  "Your sister was
helping me with my coat."

She couldn't breathe.  The foyer had suddenly
become too claustrophobic, and she handed
Mulder's coat to Charlie, feeling her face pale. 
"Charlie, I - would you mind... I don't feel so
good..."

Charlie, bless him, knew exactly how she felt
about tight spaces, immediately taking the coat
from her to step aside.  "Sure, sprite.  I'll get
Mulder settled in.  Go."

She felt both pair of eyes follow her departure
up the stairs.  One concerned, his love warming
her back.

The other probing, insinuating itself into her
family, her home.  Its daring gaze bent on
stripping her of all sense of security.  She felt
its promise all the way up the stairs -

He was here for her.


End Chapter Six