An Unchanged Soul
Chapter Twelve


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Emma stirred milk into her coffee, giving Dana a
smile.  "You mean Fox *still* hasn't painted the
nursery?"

Her cousin shifted on the sofa with a pained sigh. 
"No, and I'm afraid he won't ever get around to it. 
We have just a little over a month left to go, you
know.  With the holidays coming up and this
business with Sam, he's running around like a
chicken with his neck cut off."  Dana winked,
sipping at her tea.  "Of course, he never could sit
still for more than five minutes at a time,
especially when he latches on to something a bit
more interesting than yellow paint and wallpaper
with lambs on it."

"True.  Your husband is one easily excited fellow,
isn't he?"  Emma laughed along with Dana, enjoying
their visit.

It was Friday morning, and she'd made her weekly
trip to Dana's with a light step.  She'd seen hide
nor hair of Sam since Sunday, which helped her get
back to a normal routine.  Work took up her
evenings and her father hadn't asked her to pitch
in during the day at the pub, claiming Sam was a
natural born worker when it came to running the
bar.  He even helped out in the kitchen when
necessary, and kept things running smoothly.  Of
course, the pub's business picked up on the
weekend, and she dreaded tomorrow night, when she'd
have to face Sam after a week's respite.  Later,
she'd think about that later.  Right now, she
planned on spending a bit of time with her favorite
cousin without thinking of what awaited her in the
form of Sam Mulder.

"Well, at least he had one of his questions
answered Monday," Dana said softly, her laughter
dying.

"What's that?"  Emma was disturbed by Dana's
serious tone.

"Sam *is* Sam, according to his fingerprints. 
Mulder confirmed it Monday through the Department
of Defense.  He also started the paperwork to bring
Sam back 'from the dead', though I don't know how
he'll ever explain it all to their satisfaction." 
Dana sighed, a worried crease coming to her brow. 
"I worry about him, Emma."

"You're not going to start with this Chang business
again, are you?"  Emma worried more about Dana than
Fox; she was looking somehow very fragile these
days, and she needed to stop thinking of Sam's
return as more than it was.  The world wasn't that
awful of a place in Emma's mind, even if she'd
escaped a brush with death Sunday afternoon at the
hands of a boyish lunatic.  Dana needed to realize
that sometimes, it took time for the world to right
itself.

All Emma had needed was a week.  Even if she
planned to upset the apple cart a bit by telling
Sam he didn't have to honor their bet, she figured
that, once done, she'd still be satisfied at the
way she'd regained her balance.

"Doesn't it seem odd to you that all these years,
your father's pub has never been robbed?  Then
suddenly - the first day Sam works there - someone
tries to do just that?"

Emma felt the blood drain from her face.  "You're
not saying Sam set that up, are you?  Because if
you are, I'll have to draw the line at that, Dana. 
He saved the pub.  He saved *me* from that knife by
putting himself between me and that man."

"From what Mulder tells me, the guy slipped on the
wet mop.  Didn't seem like he wanted to hurt either
of you at all, but he almost did by accident."

"And this means what?"  Emma was getting perturbed
by Dana's implication that Sam was something other
than the long lost brother.  She may not care to be
around him, but Sam was a decent guy - not the sort
to conspire with criminals.  "That the guy was an
incompetent fool?  I fail to see any other
explanation."

"I know you're getting tired of my paranoia, Emma." 
Dana set her cup on the side table with a sigh. 
"But I feel something's not right about Sam.  I
just can't put my finger on it."

Actually, Sam unsettled Emma in much the same
fashion, but for more obvious reasons.  Just being
in the same room with the guy made her all nervous,
even when he treated her as nothing more than a
friend.  And that kiss - well, she *still* hadn't
quite decided what to do about that, other than
ignore it.  Sam wasn't going to let it go easily,
she knew.  But there was plenty of time yet to
think of that, as Emma looked at her cousin's
troubled face.  She didn't know what to tell Dana
to set her mind to rest, but she had to try.

"I admit his return home after all these years is
rather weird," she began, picking her words
carefully.  "But seriously, Dana - you can't be
thinking he's into something criminal, especially
where you and Fox are concerned.  He spent his
first night out of the hospital with you both,
didn't he?  Surely if he meant to harm either of
you, he'd have done it then."

"You have a point," Dana said softly, meeting
Emma's gaze with a relenting smile.  "He had his
chance, didn't he?  He could have let an army in
the house without us knowing or being able to put
up any kind of fight."

"There - see?" Emma took Dana's hand and gave it a
reassuring squeeze.  "I think the way Sam came back
has put you off a bit, that's all.  It's not every
day a man thought dead comes home, now is it?"

"You're right.  I'm just nervous, that's all.  Must
be because of the baby."

"You have a right to be nervous, Dana.  You have
every right to protect your family and your home,
and deliver that child safe and sound.  With all
you've been through the last few years, I'd say you
have the most right of us all to be a bit wary of
strangers.  And Sam *is* a stranger to you.  To me
as well.  If it's any consolation, Da seems to like
him, and Da is a very good judge of character."

"He is, isn't he?"  Hope spread over Dana's face. 
"Uncle Mike has said good things about Sam?"

"Has he!  You'd think the sun rose and set in the
Sam's face, according to Da."  Actually, her father
had toned down the 'Sam praising' the last couple
of days, as compared to the first part of the week. 
Maybe that had something to do with the fact she
began to walk out of the room when her father
started up on the subject.  But she had to admit
her father wasn't just laying it on thick for
Emma's benefit; from all appearances, Sam was a
hard worker who made it possible for her father to
come home a bit early every night, usually by the
time she herself came home, which was unusual. 
Mike Scully wouldn't turn over the management of
his business to a man who wasn't on the up and up. 
"Sam can do no wrong by Da, Dana.  And I believe
him when he says Sam is a good man."

"I'm trying hard to believe, Emma, I really am. 
For Mulder's sake.  But some of the things he's
told me about Sam make me nervous."

It wasn't in Emma's nature to gossip, but the way
Dana said the last caused a prickle of alarm to
snake up her spine.  This was the man her father
had entrusted to take up the slack at the pub, and
if there was anything shady in Sam's past, it was
in their best interests for it to come out.  "Like
what?"

"Mulder didn't want Sam working at the pub, you
know.  He'd lined up a job with Frohike, one Sam
didn't want."

Emma knew Melvin Frohike in passing; he was a good
man, and totally devoted to Melissa.  But he was a
bit of a stuffed shirt and she couldn't picture Sam
working in Melvin's huge office.  Sitting at a desk
in a suit and tie was not Sam's thing, and she
understood why he'd refused the job his brother had
arranged.  "Why didn't Mulder want Sam in the pub,
Dana?  It's good work, and from what I've seen, he
knows what he's doing."

"That's just it," Dana said softly, apparently
uncomfortable with the direction their talk was
taking, as she looked away.  "Mulder says Sam used
to have a bit of a problem with liquor.  Sam was a
regular hellraiser when he was younger, and when he
got drunk, it got worse."

Emma gasped, picturing Sam as a bully.  Or worse -
as a man who couldn't keep control of his anger. 
Those types were trouble.  But not Sam, surely? 
He'd been nothing but gentle with her, with the
exception of his outburst upon seeing Dana.  That
was understandable; in fact, he hadn't taken long
to calm down, and had been duly apologetic
afterward.  However, she had to know, even if the
answer contradicted the man she knew.  "He was
abusive?"

"Toward his family?  No," Dana quickly corrected
Emma's thinking.  "More toward himself.  He had a
great career ahead of him as a baseball player,
Emma.  Mulder thinks he would have gone far, all
the way to the major leagues.  But Sam and Bill
Mulder didn't quite see eye to eye.  When Mulder's
father would push Sam too much, Sam would
retaliate.  Mulder had to bail him out of trouble
many times... most of the time, it was because Sam
was drunk.  He'd go looking for a fight - and
usually, he had no trouble finding one.  Mulder
won't tell me why Sam tried to destroy himself that
way.  Maybe Mulder doesn't know himself.  In any
case, Sam and alcohol don't mix."

The portrait Dana painted bore no resemblance to
the Sam Emma had come to know.  She'd seen many a
man lose himself to the pull of alcohol, just like
her father, who steadfastly refused to serve men
who couldn't handle their liquor.  It was true Sam
didn't even sneak a sip of beer while bartending,
according to her father, who didn't mind taking a
sip or two now and then even when he was working. 
Mike Scully would have spotted the lush in Sam
immediately, and canned him in a heartbeat.

"As far as I know, Sam's not taken a drink since he
came to work for Da."  Not even after work hours;
no way could Sam hide it from her father, who kept
a close eye on his inventory.  Besides, if Sam was
drinking on the sly, they'd know it.  Red-rimmed
eyes, the ever present smell of alcohol, the
general lethargy would be red flags... and Sam had
exhibited none of the behavior.

"He swore to Mulder he'd given it up, that first
night he worked at the pub."

Mulder had confronted Sam about it?  Of course he
would - she would have done the same with any of
her brothers.

"Sam promised all that was past, and Mulder trusts
him to keep him promise."  Dana looked at Emma with
a question in her eyes, asking very much the same
from her.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Emma promised.

"I wouldn't want you to tell anyone else this,
Emma.  Not even Uncle Mike.  Mulder would kill me
if he knew I told you."

"Why would I be telling Da?  If Sam ever drinks to
the extent you make it out to be, Da will know. 
And good man or not, Sam would be gone."

"I just don't want Mulder hurt any more than he has
been, Emma.  He worries about Sam constantly, but
he knows Sam is a grown man who can take care of
himself.  But if you or your father see any sign of
Sam doing something he's not supposed to, I want
you to tell me, not Mulder."

"You?  What can you possibly do?"

"Soften the blow for Mulder.  Make him see that
Sam's problems are not his any longer."  A slight
fierceness came to her face.  "Or I could simply
kick my brother-in-law's backside myself."

Emma snorted.  "As if you're in any shape to do
that."

Dana ran a hand over her stomach.  "Well, maybe
not.  But I know a few men who could beat some
sense into Sam - all I have to do is make a few
phone calls.  Charlie, Commander Skinner -"

"Aidan, Joseph, Tommy," Emma supplied with a
glimmer of mirth.

"While we're at it, Emma - let's go for the gold,"
Dana said with a laugh.  "No doubt Bill Junior
would love to get his hands on Sam.  If he can't
throttle Mulder, that would be the next best thing,
don't you think?"

"I'd pay good money to see Old Elmer stick it to
Sam." Emma's dry remark made Dana pause, and Emma
could have kicked her own butt for saying such a
thing - words designed to pique Dana's curiosity. 
She wasn't wrong either, as Dana gave her a
sidelong glance.

"Has he done anything to upset you, Emma?  I
thought you said he was a good man."

Oh great, Emma thought.  Just when she'd gotten
Dana past the point of suspicion, she had to open
her big mouth.  With a sigh she answered, "No.  He
*is* a good man.  Way too good at most things."

Like flirting.  Like looking at her with those
amazing eyes like she was the best thing since
sliced bread.  Like kissing her until her toes
curled in her shoes.

"Ah, I see."

"You see what?"  She hadn't given anything away,
she just knew she hadn't.  Dana couldn't possibly
know the turmoil in her heart right now, all of it
due to Sam Mulder.

"You keep forgetting something, Emma."

"What's that?"

"I've been on the receiving end of that famous
Mulder charm as well.  Deadly, I tell you. 
Deadly."  Dana's eyes twinkled.  "So, where's he
taking you on your first date?"

"Dinner and a movie," she blurted out, then looked
up with horror.  She couldn't *believe* she'd let
that slip!  "But it's not a date, not really.  You
see, we had a bet on who would finish cleaning the
pub first and you know me, I can't back down from a
challenge, and besides, Sam is just too cocky for
his own good and... and..." Her mouth pursed at
Dana's look.  "Stop looking at me like that.  It's
*not* a date.  It's just dinner and a movie.  You
know how I like movies."

Dana rose from the couch with a bit of difficulty,
waving off Emma's offered hand of help.  "Well, at
least he's more romantic than some.  He's not
cornering you in a cabin in the woods, is he?."

"What?"  Sam, romantic?  Emma had the feeling Sam's
idea of romance ran toward a bottle of gin and the
back seat of a car.  Mentally, she chastised
herself.  It wasn't fair to judge Sam that way,
especially when she'd beg off the chance to find
out if she got her way.

"Nothing.  Want some more coffee?"  Dana's voice
trailed behind her as she walked into the kitchen. 
"Or would you rather I call Bill Junior and have
him wipe the floor with Sam to save you from the
unspeakable horror of a date that's not really a
date?"

Emma followed her cousin into the kitchen,
pondering the suggestion.  It would solve all her
problems, really.  Not that she'd ever have Sam
beat up to get him to stop chasing after her....

"Emma!"

"What?" She looked up into Dana's horrified face
with a blank look.

"That was a joke, Emma," Dana warned with a black
look.

"I know it was, silly," she replied, walking to the
stove.  "Siccing Bill Junior on him probably
wouldn't do any good, anyway.  Sam's got it in his
mind - well, let's just say I don't think Sam lets
anything stop him once he has his mind made up. 
Not even Old Elmer sticking it to him."

Dana rinsed out her cup, throwing over her
shoulder, "He's after you like white on rice, is
that it?  I could always get Mulder to talk to him,
to make him back off."

"Don't!"  Another slip-up; this time, Emma felt her
face color with embarrassment.  She turned away
from Dana, making a production out of adding sugar
and milk to her coffee.  "I mean, it's nothing,
really.  Sam and I are friends, and friends we'll
stay.  I'm not a Scully for nothing, you know.  I'm
a grown woman and I can handle myself... and Sam
Mulder."

Dana turned, wiping her hands on a dish towel.  "I
said something similar once to Charlie... right
after he caught me naked on the couch with Mulder." 
She spread her hands, making a show of her belly. 
"And look where *I* ended up."

"You and Mulder were -" Emma's blush compounded
into a furious tide of red that she felt tingle all
over her scalp.  "When?  Where?"

"Oh, Mulder wasn't naked.  Not totally, anyway. 
And it was on the living room couch at Mom and
Dad's.  Right before Charlie got married."

"But - but you didn't meet Mulder until a few days
before the wedding.  How -?"

"Can things happen that fast?  They do, believe me. 
And if Sam is half the charmer Mulder is, then
you'd better prepare yourself."

Half the charmer Mulder was.  And Mulder, in Emma's
opinion, had one-tenth of Sam's charm.  She was in
serious trouble.

"Dear Lord," she breathed, the full impact of what
was happening hitting her like a ton of bricks. 
She sat at the kitchen table, sloshing her coffee
over Dana's fine white tablecloth.  "Oh, God, I'm
so sorry, Dana."

Her cousin was beside her in an instant, mopping up
the mess.  "It'll wash."  Dana pulled up a chair
beside her, laying a hand on her arm.  "This is
really serious, isn't it?  This thing between you
and Sam."

"No, it isn't," she stumbled through her reply, "at
least I don't think it is.  I mean, we've only ever
kissed once.  It was a nice kiss, but it was right
after the attempted robbery and we both know it was
the result of relief.  I've only known the man for
a week, for God's sake!"

"I married Mulder barely a week after I met him."

At that undeniable statement, Emma jumped up from
her chair.  "No.  Sam and I are just friends, Dana. 
Besides, the only reason he's -" She broke off,
this time stopping herself from making the mother
of all mistakes by saying what she really felt.

Sam had only shown interest in her because she
looked like Dana.  From the first, he'd been
attracted to a dream, to a woman who reminded him
of someone he clung to like a lifeline.  Even the
kiss was most likely due to more than leftover
stress from the situation - in saving Emma, he'd
managed to save Dana all over again, this time with
happier results.  In Emma, he got to be the hero,
got to hold the girl in his arms and kiss her with
triumph.  It was her fault she'd acted the fool and
given him the opportunity.  It was no more than him
acting out a long-standing fantasy.

"The only reason he's what?"  Dana stood as well. 
"Emma?"

She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. 
"I have to go.  It's almost two o'clock."

"But your shift doesn't start until three.  Emma,
please -"

She pasted a smile on her face as she quickly
donned her coat.  "Thank heavens it's the end of
the week.  Though I'll have to put in a long night
at Da's tomorrow night.  Why don't you and Fox stop
by for some dinner?"  It was a stroke of genius,
one her feeble brain hadn't had since Sam arrived
on the scene.  With Dana there, Sam would have the
chance to see for himself Emma wasn't the one he
pined for; with Mulder there, maybe it would
finally hit home that Sam had no chance with Dana. 
Simple.  They were both off the hook.  Sam would
take his amorous ways and practice them on someone
else for a change.

"Emma -"

"I won't take no for an answer," she said brightly,
feeling more and more confident of success by the
minute.  "I'll tell Da to expect you both.  He can
have the girls in the kitchen make that apple pie
Mulder likes so much, okay?"  She practically ran
out the back door, stopping only to shove her feet
into the rubber overboots once she'd reached the
porch.

"Of course we'll come."  Dana stood in the open
door, her arms crossed.  "But I want you to know
this won't do any good."

"What won't do any good?"

"I used to be good at running, you know.  Used
every trick in the book, put every one in my family
between me and the truth.  Still didn't do any
good."

"I don't know what you're talking about."  Hey, she
could pretend with the best of 'em.  Especially
when there were circumstances Dana knew nothing of;
Emma swore to herself to keep it up for as long as
possible.  Eventually, her family would see that
she had no use for a man like Sam.  Short of coming
out and telling everyone of his feelings for Dana,
of course.  She'd studied the best actresses on the
silver screen for years.  Surely she could emulate
them?

"That's bullshit and you know it."

Emma's head snapped up.  "Dana!"

"Yeah, you heard me.  I didn't say 'bush tit' or
'shih-tzu' or 'Chautaqua'," she snapped, drawing
out the last word with emphasis.  "You are so full
of it, Emma."

Emma seethed, for the first time in her life
wanting to smack her cousin.  Dana stood with
pursed lips, daring her to fight back.

"Go on," Dana poked, jerking up her chin.  "You
know you want to let me have it, so do it.  But
don't stand here and deny there's something between
you and Sam, because I don't believe it.  Like I
said, that's utter bullshit.  You can even tell
Father Corkery I said that - I don't care."

Leave it to Dana to take away her last weapon of
defense, Emma thought, still struggling for words. 
Not even the fear of priestly wrath coming down
upon her head was enough to deter Dana.  Emma
stomped down the steps and onto the slushy
sidewalk, intending to make a quick getaway before
she said something terrible.

"Yeah, that's it," Dana called after her.  "Run
away!  I was right - you're a big coward, Emma
Scully!"

Emma stopped and turned, having had enough of
Dana's needling.  Drawing herself up to her full
height, she grabbed the lapels of her coat in an
offensive pose.  "You... you... *titmouse*! 
Pussywillow!  Beach!"

Dana just laughed as she leaned against the door
frame.  "You can't use the real ones, can you?  Oh,
you think 'em all right, but you're too much of a
coward in that even - you can't beat me, Emma. 
Never could."

Despite the playfulness of Dana's words, they drove
through Emma like a sword of truth.  Dana was
absolutely right, though she didn't know it.  Emma
would never beat Dana, certainly not when it came
to winning Sam's affection.

"I know I can't," she said, trying hard to keep
from showing Dana her misery.  "Just like I can
never let myself love someone like Sam.  Why can't
you see that?"

Dana lost her smile.  She stepped onto the porch,
one hand outstretched.  "Emma, wait."

"Gotta go.  I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"  Without
another word, she got in her car and sped away,
leaving Dana with a puzzled look on her face.

Thank goodness she had a bit of a drive to St.
Catherine's.  Plenty of time to dry up those pesky
tears.


End Chapter Twelve