A Familiar Heart
Chapter Seven


Mulder watched her fly up the stairs, feeling as
if he'd never see the brightness of that smile
again.  He sighed, handing Charlie his hat and
scarf.  This had been a mistake.  He should have
just called Charlie from Utah and begged off,
like he'd wanted to.  Chang was still an ominous
presence in his life, and putting Charlie and his
family in the way of possible reprisal by his
nemesis was unwarranted.  But he knew Charlie
wouldn't let him off so easily; Charlie knew all
about Chang, and he refused time and again in the
last month to let Mulder face death alone. 
Charlie had faith in the Navy's ability to take
care of its own, and he believed that Chang would
be taken care of before the wedding.  Skinner had
assured them that they could proceed with the
wedding without fear of Chang getting too close.

Mulder wasn't so sure.  And, until a couple of
days ago, he'd decided he was going to tell
Charlie it was too risky.  Then he'd met *her*. 
A woman who'd called him a 'jackass' and then
melted into his arms like she was born to be
there.  Upon finding out her name, he knew he had
to come to Maryland.  Call it selfishness, call
it regret - whatever.  She was bound to find out
who he was through Charlie, and if he didn't come
prove to her that he wasn't the monster she
thought he was, then he'd never have the chance
again.  One mention of the name "Mulder" and
she'd refuse to listen to any of his
explanations.  By presenting himself to her
family, she couldn't avoid him - at least not
until the wedding was over.  Maybe by that time,
he'd have a chance to tell her the whole story.

Or maybe, when she came back downstairs, she
would be packing a gun.  From what little he knew
of her, it was a damned good possibility.

"Sorry about that, Mulder," Charlie said,
dragging Mulder's attention away from the empty
stairs.  "Dana's been through a lot.  She's a bit
skittish still."

The implication that there was more to Dana's
past than a naval career made Mulder's ears perk
up.  He knew Charlie's sister was a nurse, had
served in the Pacific.  But, combined with the
attack of nerves he'd witnessed in the cabin,
she'd apparently been through a helluva lot more
than dealing with casualties at a base hospital. 
"What happened to her?"

Charlie bit his lip, as if he'd said too much. 
"That's not for me to divulge, Mulder.  But I
will tell you this - she didn't spend the war in
a cushy hospital in Honolulu.  She was a POW." He
turned to the hat rack, leaving Mulder to his
riotous thoughts for a second.

A POW?  He knew that there had been female POW's
scattered in the camps of the occupied Pacific,
most notoriously at Los Banos.  Was that where
she'd been?  No, God wouldn't be that cruel - to
either of them.  No matter where she'd been, the
fact that Dana had been a POW only added to his
sudden sadness; he had a reason to hate POW camps
almost as much as she did.  Jesus.  Seemed
neither of them would ever catch a break, just
when they'd found each other.

"What's with the uniform?" Charlie asked,
interrupting Mulder's melancholy.  "We're on
leave, you know."

It had seemed a good idea that afternoon -
impress her with his rank, with his stature in
Naval Intelligence.  Now, seeing Charlie's casual
dress and spying the family in the living room in
similar attire, he felt out of place.  He smiled
sheepishly.  "It's been so long since I've had to
wear it, I figured I needed to get used to it
again."

"As long as your dress whites still fit," Charlie
replied with a wink, speaking of the upcoming
wedding.

Mulder just nodded, feeling as if he was too
sullied by the past years to wear the white
uniform of his country's Navy.  Especially since
he'd seen her again, let his eyes fall upon the
graceful curve of her cheek and storm-tossed blue
eyes.  She embodied everything that was good and
fine about home... damn, even her clean scent
lingered in the foyer, threatening to pull him
under.  He couldn't put her or her family in
jeopardy like this; Charlie would have to
understand.

"Uh, Charlie." He stilled his friend's movement
to the living room with a hand on his arm. 
"About the wedding."

"Oh no, you don't," Charlie growled, his smile
fading.  "You're here now.  You can't back out on
me.  Skinner says it's perfectly safe for you to
resume normal activity.  No way can Chang get to
you."

Mulder scowled.  "He also said that they'd have
him in custody by now."

"Like I told you on the phone today, Chang
apparently high-tailed it back to Hong Kong.  He
was seen there yesterday.  All our feelers - not
to mention the agents dogging his every step -
must have spooked him back to his hole.  Besides,
have you been accosted by any assassins lately?"

Mulder felt as if the wind had gone out of him. 
But he recovered quickly, before Charlie could
see how his innocent remark had staggered him. 
"No, but -"

"No buts.  It's been four months, Mulder, since
you came home.  Four months of laying low and
looking over your shoulder.  Chang's gone, and he
won't be coming back.  Now... are you gonna be my
best man or not?"

He finally allowed himself to relax a bit, giving
Charlie a grim smile.  "Sure."  But he let that
smile harden into a determined nod as he added,
"But if I see one inkling that Chang is on my
tail, I'm outta here.  Got it?  I'm not putting
any of your family in danger."

His friend took his hand in a firm shake.  "Deal. 
Just make sure you tell me about it, okay?  I'm
not letting you go it alone, if Chang decides to
come back.  Skinner too - he needs to know."

Mulder agreed, though he knew damn well if it
came to that, he was going to shoot first and ask
questions later.  If he had the chance, he was
going to take care of Chang once and for all,
without involving Charlie.  A newlywed had no
business chasing a killer, whether or not it was
his job.

Charlie gestured for him to follow, and he walked
behind his friend, his mind still working as he
was introduced to Dana's family.  Smiling
vaguely, he tried to listen to names and other
small talk, shaking hands.  Her father was a
large man - he could see where Dana and Charlie
had gotten the red hair.  Her mother had
obviously passed on her petite form to her
youngest daughter.  Melissa was a tall and
willowy strawberry blonde; in other days, he
might have found himself attracted to her.  But
no longer.

He seemed to be ruined forever for other women. 
All because of one small redhead with a temper of
opposite proportions to stature.

Bill Scully offered him a scotch and he took it,
sitting on the edge of the sofa with one eye
toward the living room doors.  Would she come
back downstairs?  Surely she had more courage
than to cower like that - she was bound to know
his reasons for being in her parents' house.  And
she damn well knew that sooner or later, she'd
have to face him.

After a few minutes, Charlie excused himself,
saying he was going upstairs to check on Dana. 
It was about damned time, Mulder thought. 
Another moment of inane conversation about the
wedding and he would have charged up those stairs
without thought to appearances or manners.  He
wanted to talk to her, and he wasn't leaving
until he did.


**********


"Dana?  You okay in there?"

The knock on the bathroom door startled her. 
From her perch on the toilet lid, she took a deep
breath.  "Come on in, Charlie."  She hadn't
locked it; it was juvenile to think Mulder would
follow her upstairs.  Besides, a locked door in
this house meant subterfuge within.  The last
thing she needed was her mother becoming curious.

Charlie squatted before her, one finger brushing
away a lock of her hair from her forehead. 
"What's up, sprite?  Feeling okay?" His simple
gesture brought moisture to her eyes and she
blinked it away, not wanting to show weakness.

She brought the wet washcloth to her neck and
gave it another swipe.  "I just got a bit
claustrophobic in the foyer."  It was the truth;
however, the *cause* of her claustrophobia still
remained unspoken.  Still lurked downstairs
somewhere, probably drinking her father's brandy.

Charlie looked around the bathroom with a
disbelieving eye.  "So you decided to hightail it
to the bathroom?"  He took her hand, stilling its
fidgeting.  "Uhh... hate to tell you this,
sprite, but this is the smallest room in the
house."

In spite of her nerves, she chuckled.  "It is,
isn't it?"

He sobered a bit, intuitive as always.  "Is it
Mulder?  Did he say something to you?  Make you
uncomfortable?"

"No!" Her reply was a bit too quick, and she
toned it down, heading off her brother's train of
thought with a semi-truth.  "He's just so... big. 
With the both of you crowding me, I couldn't
breathe."

"God, Dana, I'm sorry.  Mulder doesn't know
better, but I should."

She nipped at his nose with the washcloth.  "Damn
straight you should."

Charlie perked up, his eyes laughing as he said,
"Oooh... such language.  I'm gonna tell Mom."

Leaning closer, she whispered, "You do, and I'm
telling her how Ellen used to sneak out of my
room into yours when she'd sleep over."  College
held little appeal for her friend once she
discovered the lanky high school senior had grown
up; how either of them got this far without
having to go through a shotgun wedding first was
beyond her.

"What can I say?  She has a thing for younger
men."  Smiling, he got to his feet and extended a
hand.  "C'mon, sprite.  I told Mulder you were
the prettiest, smartest woman in three states. 
You're making me look bad."

Oh, Charlie, she thought sadly, you don't know
what you've stumbled into.  And now, I *really*
can't ever tell you.

It wasn't like her to run from anything, and her
uncharacteristic flight up the stairs was
generating suspicion.  Buck up, she told herself. 
Gathering her courage, she took his hand and
dropped the washcloth into the sink as she stood. 
"I look okay?"  Her slacks and sweater were too
casual for anywhere but home, but she wasn't
about to change into a skirt.

"You look fine.  Smile, sprite.  I promise not to
try any more matchmaking, I swear."

He had it in his mind that she'd run off partly
because of his maneuvering.  Let him think it. 
It would certainly help toward avoiding Mulder. 
She could do this.  Another week, and he'd be
gone.  Who said she had to keep him company? 
They'd never be alone together, if she had any
say about it.

"Good boy," she murmured.  "You're learning.  I
see Ellen's splendid hand in your training...
I'll have to congratulate her on her fine work."

Charlie ushered her out the bathroom door,
snorting, "Leave it to me to fall for an older
woman."


**********


He had to gently push Daniel - or was it Donald?
- off his knee to get to his feet.  He ffelt like
a total goof with his attempt at good manners,
because Dana's father beat him to it.  It had
been years since he'd been in the presence of
ladies other than those of the evening.  Charlie
flashed him a knowing grin and Dana just ignored
him, murmuring something about "it was just a
headache" to her mother's soft question about her
disappearance.

God, but she was beautiful.  Even with the faint
scrape on her forehead; he could see she'd tried
to cover it up with makeup, and she'd done a good
job, but he knew it was there.  Dressed in a soft
white pullover and forest green slacks, she stood
at least a head shorter than Charlie, who he
noticed had to give her a little push past the
living room doors.  If memory served, the top of
her head reached only to his own chin.  Then
again, the only real gauge of that came when they
were both horizontal.

Mentally chastising himself for letting his
thoughts wander in that direction, he instead
catalogued the finer points of the woman before
him.  Medium length red hair with a slight wave
that he could tell she tried her best to tame. 
It was parted on one side and held back with
hairspray, he supposed, though one heavy lock
draped over her brow in a very Veronica Lake-ish
way.  It was damned sexy, and he gulped,
clenching his fists against the urge to cross the
room and steal his hand through it as he turned
her face up...

"You say your parents live in Washington,
Lieutenant Mulder?"

He saw Dana's head whip around at her mother's
use of his rank.  He also noticed - as a warm
tide of color crept up his cheeks - that he was
the only one still standing.  Quickly he sat, and
just as quickly, Dana's sharp look avoided his
gaze.  He turned to Maggie Scully, not really
hearing the words that came from his lips. 
Something about his father and the State
Department.  She kept up the conversation, asking
him about his time in the Navy, where he'd been
stationed, blah, blah, blah.  He supposed he
answered correctly, though he couldn't very well
blurt out that he'd kept company with an opium
dealer for the past few years.  So he gave them
all the official version, raising his voice a bit
to make sure Dana heard.

"I've been in Hong Kong since the summer of '39. 
Working to subvert the interests that funneled
money into Japan."

"A spy?" Melissa breathed, her eyes wide.

Thankfully, Charlie spoke up, diverting the
conversation into more reasonable terms.  "He
works in Naval Intelligence, Missy.  You can't
expect him to give away all our secrets."  His
eyes met Mulder's.  "Want me to freshen up that
drink, Mulder?"

"Sure," he said, even though his glass had hardly
been touched.  He stood, walking with Charlie to
the bar.  Dana hardly moved, and he wondered if
he'd get his chance tonight to speak to her.  He
had to try; he couldn't very well show up on the
Scully doorstep every day until she deigned to
receive him.  But how?

"Dana?" Charlie addressed his sister, handing her
the ice bucket.  "Would you get some more ice,
please?"

A slight hesitation, then she stood, her form
stiff.  "Okay."  It was the first word she'd said
since re-joining the family in the living room.
Passing within inches of Mulder, he caught a
whiff of her subtle perfume.  It tugged at his
groin, and he was glad for the long suit jacket
of his dress blues.  Trying to still his rushing
blood, he realized that maybe this was his
chance.

"Charlie, can you direct me to the head?" he
whispered, watching Dana turn right past the
living room doors.  "I need to wash up before I
get back on the road."  And he *was* leaving
after he spoke to her - he didn't know if he
could stand being so near to her and not be able
to touch her for much longer.

"Take a right in the hall.  Last door before you
get to the kitchen," Charlie whispered back.

"Thanks."

The sound of their voices followed him down the
hall and he hoped for a few moments alone with
her.  Five minutes, tops, he figured.  It was
enough.  What he really wanted to say to her
would take much longer, but the assignation must
be made for such a lengthy conversation.

Her back to the door, she pounded the ice trays
in the sink, not hearing his approach.  He was
sure to frighten her, but there was no way around
that.  Just as there was no good way to begin.

Staying far enough back to give her space, he
said, "I need to talk to you."

As expected, she jumped, the loosened ice
clattering into the bucket.  Slowly, her back
straightened, but she didn't turn around.  "We
have nothing to say to each other."

"Dana -"

"Don't call me that!" she hissed.  "You have no
right."

Swallowing at her indignant tone, he conceded,
"Fair enough.  Miss Scully.  I need to explain."

At last, she turned, her cheeks pink with haughty
anger.  "I am of the same rank as you,
Lieutenant.  Either afford me some respect or
leave off the 'Miss'."

His anger tweaked, he growled with frustration,
"Fine then. *Scully*." She wanted to be treated
as an equal, then by God, she would be.  Without
the title commanded by her rank - they'd been too
intimate to fall back to military protocol.  "We
have things to discuss, and I insist you make the
time to speak to me."

"I refuse... *Mulder*.  And you are in no
position to force me."

"If you refuse, *Scully*, I'll have no choice but
to tell your brother what happened in that
cabin."

She blanched, one hand coming up to hover at her
neck.  A gold cross gleamed in the light from
above; funny, he hadn't noticed it back in Utah. 
Then again, he'd never actually seen her
completely naked.  He squinted against his own
betraying thoughts and desires, as if he'd said
the words aloud.

"You wouldn't," she breathed.  "Why would you do
that?  Charlie would kill you."

A solid beating was the least he deserved.  If he
knew Charlie would keep the tale to himself and
not involve her parents, he'd damn well tell him,
just to get his friend to make him atone some
way.  Yeah, he could feel the broken nose
already.  "It's only what I deserve, don't you
think?"

Her concern of a second ago vanished.  "You
deserve to be drawn and quartered," she answered,
her face becoming cool and aloof.  "And I don't
believe you have the guts to tell Charlie."

Mulder backed to the kitchen door, nodding at the
melting ice.  "You might want to put some of that
ice in a dishtowel, because I think I'll need it
shortly..."

"Wait."

He stifled the urge to smile with satisfaction;
first and foremost, she was a healer.  His guess
that she would never willingly cause him pain was
an accurate one - even if she *had* knocked him
in the head once already.  As she wavered before
him with indecision, he made his next move. 
"Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

"Christmas Day?  And just where would we go?  The
soup kitchen at St. Mary's?"

"The next day, then.  About seven?  I can pick
you up -"

"No." She was adamant.  "I'll meet you.  Mike's
Grill."

He nodded, happy she'd capitulated.  Though she
sure knew how to pick 'em - from what he
remembered, Mike's Grill was a bustling, rowdy
place full of Irishmen looking to pick a fight. 
Or defend a lady.

"Seven," he agreed.  "I'll be sure to wear my
combat helmet." He saw how his wink infuriated
her before he turned to make his goodbyes to the
rest of her family.


**********


Midnight mass soothed her jangled nerves.  The
lilting voices of the choir, the smell of
incense, and the drone of Latin.  Sitting between
her parents and Charlie, she felt somehow
buffeted in a cocoon of safety and love.  Melissa
had taken her children home to await the arrival
of Santa.  Their absence left a hole in the
family celebration, but she welcomed the peace
and quiet.  Besides, tomorrow would be hectic
enough, with the Scully clan celebrating with
typical rowdiness.

As the priest delivered his homily, Charlie
leaned in to whisper, "You okay, sprite?"

She nodded, taking his hand in hers.  "Yeah."

Despite the impending meeting with Mulder, she
was, indeed, feeling pretty good.  He'd caught
her a bit off guard with his sudden appearance,
but she'd righted herself quickly back to an even
keel.  And the more she thought about it, the
more she realized that talking it out with Mulder
was for the best.  She didn't want Charlie's
wedding ruined by the lingering hostilities
between the two of them.  They were both adults,
they could reason their way past their first
disastrous encounter.

And then never have to set eyes on one another
again.  It was what she prayed for; she had an
awful feeling Mulder wasn't going to be so
cooperative on that item.  But she had to keep
her distance.  She'd never met a man she couldn't
handle... and something told her Fox Mulder
wasn't a man she could control with her logic and
cool hauteur.

He wanted her, it was obvious in the warm,
magnetic pull of his hazel eyes.  And she
couldn't deny that she felt an equal attraction. 
She remembered her thoughts in the car before
their fateful meeting in Utah, how she'd decided
to pursue a relationship at last.  But on her
terms.  Mulder would consume her, she knew.  He'd
already broken through her physical reserve - she
wasn't about to let him barrel through to her
emotions.  When she decided to take that leap, it
would be with a man similar in nature, one ruled
by his head, not his heart.  After only two
meetings, she could tell Mulder was a man driven
by his passions.  Not a compatible mate for
someone like her, who relied on stability and
security.  Maybe if they'd met under different
circumstances... but no.  It wasn't to be, and
she'd have to make him see that.


End Chapter Seven