From: Vanessa Carpenter Date: Fri, 13 Apr 2007 19:39:32 -0700 Subject: A Love like Friendship (1/1) Ceruelan1 Source: xff Title: A Love like Friendship Author: Cerulean1 Archive: just keep my email atached Email: cerulean1@hotmail.com or cerlean.ogre@gmail.com Will write or feedback Rating: R, for language. Spoilers: this is pre during and post Arcadia. If you haven't seen that you won't understand a word of this. Mention of Emly, and Per Manum. Seeing Redux II is suggested, to understand the Bill-Muldr animosity. Category: S, H, R. Maybe a wee bit of angst in the middle. Heavy MSR. Summary: What, exactly, is the likely-hood that Scully neve saw her brother while in San Diego over her birthday? Author's Note: I do no subscribe to the official timeline for Per Manum. That's why it's mentionedhere. It's more likely that the flash backs happened around Emily, in season five, rather tan at the end of season six or beginning of season seven. A Love Like Fiendship (1/1) Feb 20th. 1999 J. Edgar Hoover Building Basement 7:38am He had been there an hour already. I'd cleaned. I'd paced. I'd put some of Mulder's pictures on the wall, and straightened the images on his desk of Samantha. And he still wasn't there. He'd called me at eleven the night before, told me to be in before seven. To head down to our office, that he had something to show me. And so I went. Because that's what I did. Not that I minded, but it would be nice for him to give me a litle attention. To appreciate that I'd drop everything for him. For the X-files. To notice me. I knew I was kidding myself; that as much as Fox Mulde loved me, there was a level of professional distance that we had to keep. I hated it, but I dealt with it. Dealing with it so that I could spend wat little time I could with him. And cases were the perfect way to get away with him, to watch him. But he wasn't there. I flung myself down in the hair, and spun around to look at the door. Ah, there he was. He had someting behind his back, and a case file in his hand. He looked up from the file, and smiled at me. It was that smile that had won me over after the mess last month with Diana. It was that smile that made me stay. "Morning, Scully. Sorry I'm late, I had to run and pick a few things up." He tossed the case file on the table by the door, and oved behind his desk. He knelt down on one kne in front of me and brought his hand into view. A ring box. He was holdinga ring box. Eyebrow raised, incredulousness plastered on my face evenas my heart began to race, I looked down at him. "Mulder...?" "Scully? Will you do me the honor, of being my wife?" He opened the box, a dazzling engagement ring inside. It was ruined though, by the FBI search and seizure tag that was still attached to the band. I grinned at him, laughing, even as my heart was breaking. "God Mulder, you're impossible." He looked down at the ring, noticing the tag and had the decency to look chagrined. "Now what is all this about?" He hande me the case file, putting the ring box aside and standing. "Three couple missing from a gated community inhe last six years. The latest, David and Nancy Klein, disappeared this past July, at the latest. Nancy's mother attempted to get a hold of her daughter on July 14th, and when she couldn't reach her by the 17th called in the San Diego police department. Who promptly called the FBI when for the third time running they showed up at the house and found it neat, tidy, and empty, and found David Klein hadn't shown up for work in a week. Skinner got word of the case, and promptly called them and told them that the X-files team would be handling it. We are, as of five pm tonight, undercover and taking up residence at the Falls of Arcadia in four days time." He slipped right into Agent Mulder mode. Innuendo aside, a case afoot. But his tone was light, hidden laughter only I could detect. It sounded vaguely X-fileish to me, but maybe I'd been running background checks too long. He picked up the box again, and fished another out of his suit pocket. He undid the tags on engagement ring, and the matching wedding band in the other box, and took my hand, slipping them on my left ring finger. "When do we leave?" The thrill of a case was inching up my spine as it always did. But the fear was there. Days. Perhaps weeks. Heaven forbid months of pretending to be married to Mulder. Mrs. Mulder. Dana Mulder. Mrs. Dana Mulder. Mrs. Fox Mulder. What kind of modern woman was I that the last sent a thrill through me? "This afternoon, unless you have something you need to do. The San Diego field office wants to brief us, and help us pack up the equipment before we move in. But, we can put it off a day or two if you want to. Dana Scully and Fox Mulder no longer exist the minute we step onto that plane, so make sure you settle everything." Of course we wouldn't be using our real names. Too easy to trace. Too much fodder for the bullpen pool. I wondered what our names would be, who I would be to him. I wasn't sure if I should kiss Skinner or skin him alive. "Today's fine. I take it there is no chance of my stopping by to see Mathew or Tara?" "I don't see why not. We're supposed to be from around the San Diego area, so its not completely off base that you'd know someone there, if you get seen. Not sure how much time we'll have once we've moved in though." It was simple to nod. To accept it. Flying off to California this afternoon, to be married to Mulder. And he's never even kissed me before. I spent the rest of the afternoon, when I wasn't packing, staring at the rings on my finger. ----------------------------- San Diego International Airport San Diego, California 3:06 pm I'd called Tara before we left, told her I was going to be in town. That I was on a case, but could meet for dinner the following evening. Told her I'd call her back when I knew where we were staying. Didn't mention Mulder. Or staying in a house. Alone. With him. For days. For nights. I shuddered, and Mulder slips his arm around my shoulders. "Cold?" In this heat? Is he mad? But it feels so good to be wrapped in his arms. Too good. I'm going to have to keep my distance if I expect to make it through this case without making a fool out of myself. But I mumble incoherently and let him leave his arm there anyway. We're supposed to be married after all. He carried my bags. He kept flashing me that devilish smile. He bent and brushed his lips against mine as we waited at the luggage carousel. He grinned, almost laughing, and I did laugh. Because it felt so right. And hell, we had to practice right. But mirth fled dangerously fast. "DANA! What the hell is going on here!?" My brother. I hate my brother. No, I don't hate him. I want to hate him. I want Mulder to kick his sorry ass, and throw me over my shoulder and go all caveman. Protect me from my overprotective brother. Instead, he glances around, hoping that the Falls are far enough away from the airport that no one around here is likely to see us there, and steps away from me. His arm leaves my shoulders, and I'm left with nothing but the phantom feel of his lips on mine in a chaste kiss. Damn you Bill! "Bill, let me get my bags and we'll talk about this somewhere else, okay?" "No, we're going to talk about it here! I get off my damn plane to find you kissing....him! Jesus Dana it was bad enough when you-" "Bill! Enough. Don't make a scene, please." He ignores me now. Of course he does. He has an easy target behind me. Mulder is pulling the last of my bags from the carousel and has the unfortunate pleasure of meeting my brother's gaze. "And You! Where do you get off? You've nearly killed her enough times. You swoop down right after Christmas year before last with that...that..._child_ and now this?! How long have you been fucking my sister you asshole?" I watch Mulder's eyes go wide. I hear a couple of people gasp around us. I feel the tears of pain that welled up when he talked of Emily so off handedly turn to tears of anger. How dare I? How dare Mulder? How dare him! As if this were his life to live! Mulder's mouth opens. He's going to speak. And that is a bad move. "Bill! Enough! I mean it. Shut up, go home, hug your wife, kiss your son, and I'll be there for dinner tonight. We'll be there for dinner. And you better have you temper under control by then or so help me you'll learn exactly why I didn't stay in medicine." I turn; grab the cart Mulder's packed our bags on with one hand, and his with the other and storm in the other direction. I've left both men speechless. It's nice. But I'm so damn angry I can't even enjoy it. Damn irony. ---------------------------- San Diego, California 7:52pm I'm getting annoyed. The anger dissipated while we met with the agents in the field office and they clued us in on what we were going to need to do while we were there. By the time we left for the hotel I was looking forward to dinner with Bill, and putting him in his place. Maybe shoving my tongue down Mulder's throat just to prove a point. Well, not just to prove a point, but in front of Bill to prove a point, anyway. And then the whining began. Why do I have to go, Scully? I'm going to make a list of what we need that they don't have in storage, Scully, so please don't make me go, Scully. You're brother hates me Scully, and it will be so much better if I'm not there. Please Scully. He's been silent since I drug him to the car, and told him to sit tight and shut up. Wonders, he's listening, but goddamn it a sulky Mulder isn't exactly my favorite kind. And I need a turn-my-knees-to-butter-and-my-higher-brain-functions-to-mush Mulder if I'm going to get Bill to back off. Not that he's right. Mulder and I are most certainly not doing anything naked and between sheets. Or over them. Or near them. Or near furniture that may have them. Or furniture that never needs them. Hell, that brief swipe of lips in the airport that Bill caught was our first kiss that didn't involve me dying in a hospital bed. Irony again. Hate it. We're waved through the gate at the base, and I watch Mulder watch the scenery. The last time he was here it didn't dawn on him that I grew up here. It is now, and despite his fear over the upcoming dinner, I see him smile. Heart lightens. Colors seem brighter. Happy Mulder I can deal with. "How old were you when you lived here?" He's looking at a group of kids playing in someone's front yard. Touch football from the look of it. Seasons over, but I don't think these kids have gotten word of that yet. "From around two until I was nine. We moved to Maryland about a week before I turned ten. Moved back here when I was twelve, and Mom and Dad stayed here until '92. Dad forced a transfer, so I wouldn't have to travel all the way to California when I decided to leave the FBI. Dad did most of his traveling alone. I was born in Japan, though. That's where we moved from." He's looking at me wide eyed. "Japan?" I have to chuckle. We'd spend summer overseas, wherever Dad was. Germany, Tokyo, France, England. Summers were spent here on base only if Dad was in the states. "Charles was the only Scully child born on the continental US. Bill was born in Hawaii, Melissa in Germany, though on base, so on American soil. I was born off base in Japan. They'd taken Bill and Melissa out sight seeing, and Mom went into labor in front of some pagoda or something. I was born in some back room, because labor went so fast they didn't have time to get her to a hospital." "That explains a lot actually." He's grinning, his eyes shining. Damn, why does he have to be my partner. Maybe I should request a transfer, make my brother's jerk-off statement a reality, and then moonlight for the division. As if Mulder would ever forgive me if I tried that. "What does it explain?" Tara is out front, Mathew toddling around at her feet, as I pull up in front of the house. "You say you want normality, the house, the dog, the picket fence. Yet, I just don't see that in you. And now I know why. You were born in some witch doctor's back room, Scully...normal just isn't in your vocabulary!" I laugh. I can't help it. I smack him, hard in the shoulder, for good measure anyway, though. Tara is leading Mathew over and I step out of the car. Even Mulder gets a hug from Tara. She likes him, I think, on some level. Knows, unlike Bill, that he'd never hurt me. That he'd hurt himself first. And maybe she's just as aware that he has no clue that he continually breaks my heart. "Dana, how are you? Bill said he ran into you at the airport." Her eyes are on the rings. Damn, I forgot to take them off when I changed. I'd take them off now, but my hands are suddenly full of Mathew. He's looking at his mother, terrified that she put him in my arms. "That's auntie Dana, Mathew, give her a hug." He does, and then makes a weepy retreat into his mother's arms. "I've been good. The last few months have been pretty dull, but we have the X-files back." I smile at Mulder, who is attempting to make himself invisible behind me. Mathew finds it hilarious. I find it hilarious. I'm better at hiding giggles than a 13 month old. "First case back, actually." "That's wonderful. Come on in, Bill just ran to the store to pick up some last minute things I forgot. So, when were you planning on telling us?" Yeah. She likes Mulder. From Bill or my mother that would have sounded accusatory. From Tara, it sounds amused. "God. What did Bill say?" Mulder is gone from my side. Where is that- Oh. Mathew has kidnapped him. I thought babies at that age were afraid of strangers or something? He's currently dragging Mulder away into the living room with one pudgy hand clasped in Mulder's long fingers. It's adorable. I wish Mathew was ours. "Had he said nothing, that rock would have given you away. Does your mother know?" I drag her off into the kitchen. "There's nothing to tell, Tara. We're going undercover. Our boss didn't want us perking the suspicions of the neighbors. This," I pull the rings off my finger, "belongs to the FBI. Took it in a drug bust, I think." Against my better judgment, I slip it back on. So I don't lose it. I'm notorious for putting things in my pocket and never finding them again. It's safe on my hand. Yes, that's why it's back there. "And the kiss?" I think I may be turning purple with embarrassment. "It can hardly be classified as a kiss. Mulder was just being a goof. If Bill didn't insist on running my life, I think he and Mulder would actually probably get along." She seems disappointed. I'm disappointed. I don't feel like dinner anymore. A good long soak in a tub of bubbles and a good nights sleep is what I need. "Don't let Bill know that." "What?" My head shoots up. Did she just? Yes. She did. Damn, for a man who needs to control everything my brother married one spunky ass woman. "Don't let him know. Don't do anything outrageous, but Bill needs to be put in his place. I love him, but honestly he doesn't know when to butt out." "Never has. Maybe. We'll see. I should go make sure Matt hasn't killed Mulder." He hasn't. He most defiantly hasn't. My heart swells, and pops. It's beautiful. I want to memorize this scene and play it back every day for the rest of my life. Mulder. Mathew. Thomas the Tank Engine. They're laying on the floor, facing each other. And they're playing. Mathew isn't trying to shove the toy trains up Mulder's nose. And Mulder isn't teasing the baby with them. They're making little engine sounds, and running the trains around the wooden track. Mathew tries to eat one while I watch, and Mulder takes it from his mouth and sets it on the track. Back to playing. He looks up at me, and smiles. Again. God. Whining less than an hour ago, and now he's smiling at me. "C'mon Scully. We need someone to be the green train." He holds up the wheeled piece of wood, with a face at the end, and wags it in my direction. I look over my shoulder. Tara is in the kitchen doorway smiling. She waves me on, and I'm just about to sit down when Bill comes in the door. Why couldn't he have been at sea? He sees me. Sees Mulder. Sees Mathew. Tara. He goes red. "Dana, kitchen. Now. You wanted to talk, let's talk." Tara goes and takes Mathew upstairs for a bath and to put him to bed. Mulder is looking scared again, but follows me wordlessly into the kitchen. "What Bill? I'm here for dinner. Let's just try to be civil." "Civil? How civil was it to keep this from us Dana? How long has this been going on?" "Since around seven thirty this morning, eastern time." Let's play Tara's game. I hear Mulder choke behind me and hope he doesn't screw this up. "This morn- I thought you were here for a case." "We are. I can't talk about it. I don't want to talk about it. I won't talk about it. Let's eat, have a decent time of it, and try and be friends Bill. You aren't Dad, and even he knew this was my life." I feel a hand on my hip, and I realize Mulder has come over to me. His hand just grazes over my hip and thigh, but it's enough to reassure me. I lean into him. I want convincing. Bill splutters, and storms upstairs, leaving Mulder and I alone. "What was that, Scully? You made it sound like-" "Just playing with his head Mulder. I'm too old to be putting snakes in his bed, so I have to play mind games." I slip my hands around his waist, leaning my head against his chest. This isn't a new position for us. It's one I've learned to love since I first got to receive a Mulder hug. He doesn't disappoint today, his hands going around my back, his chin resting on the top of my head. It's nice. Comforting. And I really hope Bill walks downstairs right now. It's Tara who breaks us apart. But Bill is polite over dinner. It's enough. For now. -------------------------------- Wal-Mart San Diego Feb 22 10:04am I've never told anyone this but I hate shopping. Can't stand it. And this is just plain hell. Ten in the morning at your local neighborhood big box retailer. With Mulder. Buying house wares and towels. I hate it. Oh, I love that he keeps brushing against me. That he'll take my hand and drag me over to see some new gadget every time we walk by electronics. That he'll steal kisses and grin like a child and say its practice for the neighbors when we move in. He's been in a wonderful mood since he knocked on my door this morning and, waving a credit card in the air, said that the field office said we might as well take care of the shopping ourselves since we're in town for these few extra days. That was two hours ago. A quick breakfast and a stop at FBI impound lot to switch out our Ford rental for the hideous blue mini van and now we're wandering the aisles. Mulder is flipping through towels, probably trying to come up with a way to convince me to buy the lime green ones. Watching him I wonder what it would be like to really be married to him. It hasn't left my head. Since yesterday morning. It's became firmly attached to my central lobe after dinner last night. It would be a lot like this. Stolen kisses, but without the lame explanation at the end. His eyes alight while he says in no uncertain terms that we need the four-slot bagel toaster. And the smoothie machine with computerized recipes. Also makes mixed drinks. But it's not real. This isn't real. And combined with early morning shopping its tearing me apart. He's coming back to me, dropping an armful of white towels into the basket onto of the toaster. And smoothie machine. I think I might just pay for that myself and take it home with me when this is over. The idea of Kiwi Smoothies every morning is enticing. He slips his arm around my waist, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. That's just a Mulder thing. Something I've had to get used to. I think it's his way of making up for Diana. He won't apologize for his actions, or hers, so I get random hugs and kisses on the top of the head like I'm a child. I'd die before admitting I enjoy it. Most things are being taken care of by the lovely people in the San Diego field office. No need to get furniture, or silverware, or table settings. Plants and wall hangings are good to go. We need bed linens, because I wouldn't sleep on anything that came out of a crack house. Ever. I wish, dimly, that I'd had the presence of mind to bring my sheets from home. Though I'd have missed this then. Missed this look. I like this look. It's good on him. Mulder's panic face. I haven't seen it since this summer. In Antarctica. Had I not been so damn cold I probably would have kissed him when I suddenly came to during his tryst with giving me mouth to mouth. Not sure I wanted the things-I-won't-dare-call-aliens watching our first kiss though. Though it would have been better than my brother.... And speak of the devil. Mulder is poking around at a comforter that looks quite a bit like his ties, and I'm tossing sheets into the basket when, stroller in tow, my brother walks around the corner. Can I not avoid him?! I shouldn't have called Tara. I should have said nothing, and pretended to not hear him yesterday. Should have grabbed Mulder and moved as far away from Bill as I could go. I wasn't confrontational as a child. Why did I feel the need to be yesterday? "Dana." He sounds surprised, and there's a hint of anger in his voice. And it probably has something to do with the fact that Mulder is currently standing between us holding up a set of satin sheets and leering at me. Which he promptly drops back onto the shelf and tries to make himself scarce as soon as he hears Bill's voice. I didn't even know places like this _carried_ satin sheets. "Bill." A yawn, a stretch, interrupting my thoughts of reaming into my brother again. Mathew's woken up. Perfect! "Hey Mathew. Out shopping with Daddy?" I smile at the boy, who is sleep dazed and smiles shyly at me. "Well, I need to get going. We have a meeting at noon. I'll call." No I won't. But it doesn't do to be impolite to your big brother. I drop the comforter set I'd been eyeballing into the cart and go to look for Mulder. He's around the corner. And if I didn't know better I'd think he was cowering. Poor baby. "I'm sorry Scully. I didn't see him there. I didn't think that...oh crap. Yet another reason to avoid anyone that looks remotely affiliated with the US Military. The army is working to destroy me through a government conspiracy, and the navy has strict orders from your brother to beat me up on sight." He grins, but he's not entirely kidding. I make note never to tell him about what Bill did to my first boyfriend in college. "It's fine, Mulder. He needs to get over himself. Come on; let's get out of here. I'll take you to the beach." ---------------------------- San Diego pier 1:15pm My brother saw the mini van. I saw him seeing the mini van. I saw his mouth drop, and I couldn't stop the grin. Dana Scully of the bright red vintage beetle throughout high school, college, and medical school was slipping into the driver's seat of blue Plymouth. This was going to give him nightmares for years. I loved it! It was soon put out of my head though, as we unpacked everything and put it into the mover truck in the FBI warehouse. Mulder's damn basketball hoop, which he'd bought just as we were leaving, was the last to come out of the van. It was put together before I'd even signed the credit card back to the office, and there was a game going on already when I grabbed Mulder's hand and insisted he buy me lunch. Let them snicker. If I'm going to have to pretend to be married to Mulder, I'm going to enjoy every last second of it. We picked up subs from a local place, and I drug him off to the pier. It's busy for February, but empty from what I remember of the few summers we spent at home. There's a table under an overhang about half way down the beach, and we steal it. I can see the little shack on the dock itself, the place where Missy had her first job. They sell hand made shell jewelry, and those cheap craft packs that are normally for school projects. Or they did. Who knows what it is now. The air is cool, the salt air from the ocean dropping the temperature enough that there are few people out in the water. Mulder slips an arm around my shoulders, looking out at the water. "Why do I have a feeling you learned to swim right over there?" He points out into the water, and he isn't far off. It was around the other side of the peninsula that he's pointing at, not this side of it, but it was in that direction. "I learned to do a lot of things on this beach." I really don't know what I'm thinking of when I say that. The prom fiasco was down by the rocky out cropping, but that never lead anywhere. Mr. First-college-boyfriend was given his black eye by my brother on the pier itself, when we came here from the University of Maryland over spring break. I learned the proper way to eat crab on this beach. I learned where to build a sandcastle so it wouldn't dry out and crumble before it was finished, but wouldn't get washed away by the tide before dark either. I learned that swimming in that water in winter will lead to a week in bed with a stuffy nose. But from the way Mulder stiffens, and his hand tightens on my shoulder, I don't think that's what goes through his head. "Wish I'd been there," he whispers, and its my turn to sit straighter. What's happening here? I need to keep control. No. I don't. I need to teach Mulder how to build a sandcastle. He grew up on a beach, like I did, but East Coast sandcastles have nothing on their West Coast counterparts. I know, I spent my preteen years there, and made a very thorough comparison. "Maybe I'll teach you." I grab his hand. He's turning red. His Scully does not fling innuendo. I think I've scared him. Payback for making me wait yesterday. The biggest difference between East and West Coast sandcastles in the use of tools. At ten, on the east coast, it seems most kids still use shovels and pails. Here, on the San Diego beach, that's the sign of an amateur. Children build with pieces of bright plastic. Professionals use their hands. I stake out a decent set of sand, kick off my shoes and am glad I packed this dress. It's light enough that the sand doesn't show, and heavy enough that I won't get a chill when I have to wade into the water. Mulder rolls up his pant legs, following me, looking confused. "Lesson one in proper sandcastle construction is never start with the moat." He laughs at me. His face lighting up, and the tension draining from his body. I smile at him, and we begin. Using our soda cups to carry water from the ocean, we build a towering fortress of sand. He wants an alien ship, but I build a fairy castle. He says he'll build the ship someday, and I believe him. I hope I'm there to help. By the time we're finished we've gathered a crowd. Small children watch. It's been nearly 20 years since I built anything on this beach, but it comes back to me. The castle is lopsided, and lacks the detail Melissa and I would put into ours as children, but all the same I like it. Mulder's washing his hands in the ocean, drying them on his pants. He comes back, bows at the crowd with a grin. He hands me a piece of seaweed, and I place it on the top tower of the structure. It's late now, our little adventure in sand taking nearly four hours. I'm hungry again, and tired, and sandy. Picking up the trashy remains of our lunch, and our shoes, we head back to the car. I stop on the dock, and put my shoes on, looking out at the ocean. The sun is setting. It'll still be almost two hours before full dark, but the days don't last long around here. I get another kiss for my contemplation, and I hope this assignment never ends. ------------------------------ San Diego FBI Field Office Feb 23rd 8:12am Mulder woke me with cake. Good cake. Chocolate cake, vanilla icing. In cupcake form, so I didn't even have to share. Best breakfast ever, though I'll be doing laps for a week to work it off. It took the hundredth bill for a new doorframe at the hundredth sleazy motel for the FBI to stop looking into whether or not we exchanged room keys. Now, to limit property damage we exchange them, and generally don't have to use them. I was beyond surprised when I found Mulder hovering over me in bed. He was dressed, unfortunately. It would have been a great birthday present, had he not been. I accepted the cake with a smile, and listened while he told me of the plans for the day. We needed to get our IDs in order, work out a back history, blah blah blah. I spent the entire time wondering how my cupcake would taste smeared over his chest. It's been too damn long since I've gotten laid. The thrill of the case is slowly dimming with the realization that all I really want is for Mulder to keep hovering around me and stealing kisses. It's like being 16 again. And that's what I'm thinking of now. Here. In this office. On my birthday. Filling out paperwork. Mulder is already finished and his face falls every time he rereads the case file. He was looking forward to getting back out into the field, I know, but it's becoming clear to him that this isn't an X-file. I don't mention it, just sign the fake documentation and file it. Some green agent comes in to tell us that we're needed for a debriefing. It's my first undercover case, and despite what the people here think of the X-files, there is still procedure to follow. The local PD called this office, not the X-files, so they're accountable. Not us. Mulder sighs, and leads me out of the room with a hand between my shoulder blades. I resist the urge to lean back against his hand. "After this mess here, I'm taking you to dinner. Name the place." He's leaning down, whispering in my ear as we follow the other agent. I didn't pack a suit for this case, and I feel out of place in these clothes, and to have Mulder whispering in my ear like this, talking about taking me out to dinner, makes it all that much worse. "There's a little crab place out over the water about half a mile south of Sea World." It's casual, family oriented. I want him to take me somewhere else. To the tiny Italian place downtown. Where Marcus took me before prom. I don't think that's probably wise. Not after this morning. Not after the visions of food-covered Mulder have been hovering in my head all day. He grunts noncommittally. "What about Sea World?" "Huh?" What the hell is he going on about now? "Why don't we go to Sea World? Right after this. Take in a dolphin show, buy you some giant stuffed whale for your birthday. It'll be more fun than this." "I don't know." "Call your brother. We can take the little lump with us if you feel silly walking around Sea World on your birthday." He grins, and it paints a picture. I see us. A little baby boy, Mathews age. Walking through the salty air at Sea World, walking through the shark tank. A family. That's what we'd look like if we took Mathew. A family. I feel about ready to cry. "Hey, hun, don't cry. It's fine. Dinner it is. If you like paperwork that much." I glare at him. Not because I don't like the pet name. I do. A lot. He can call me honey all damn day. And that's why I glare. Because he doesn't know. Doubt he'd care. This is all an act, and we'll never be that family. "Sea World sounds great. Just the two of us." His smile makes it worth it. And gets me through the next hour of refresher courses on keeping your cover. --------------------------- Sea World San Diego 8:50pm We spent the day here. We were out of the office by 10, and we came here. And we stayed here. We ate overpriced fish sandwiches, and bought overpriced knick-knacks, and watched Dolphins, and Whales, and Walruses...walrii. And now we're filing out in the mob as the park closes. Mulder keeps playing with the damn Shamu he insisted on buying me. It's bloody huge, and I have no idea where I'm going to keep it, or how I'm going to get it home. But he refused to listen to me when I told him not to get it. I talked him out of most of the jewelry. I don't wear it, I insisted. So he bought me a bunch of aquatic shaped earrings, and said he knew I'd wear those. I switched out the aquamarine flowers in my ears for the dolphins. Getting out of the park is worse than trying to get out of DC at rush hour. We're stopped, at least a hundred feet from the exit. It's February, why is this place so packed? And I really don't care right now. Because his lips are on mine. Just another stolen kiss. But the suddenness of it, and my mind having been elsewhere causes me to gasp. And his lips part. And my tongue is in his mouth before he has a chance to pull away. We're groping like teenagers in a sea of people. We pull away when the mob begins to move again, but I cling to his side. He isn't speaking, but his arm is around my waist, his fingers painting little patterns on my hip. I reach up and kiss his jaw. The floodgates are open. If my brother thinks we're humping like bunnies, lets make it a reality. There is no awkward silence. No fumbling at the car. There's no real indication that it's going to go past that kiss in the park. He slides into the driver seat, and I lean over and kiss him again. Mini van front seats are not made for make out sessions, but he gets the idea. We drive home, his hand on my knee, talking about Shamu. No one said life would ever be normal in the X-files. It's almost nine thirty when we pull up in front of the motel. I have a decision to make, and I don't want to make it. I want Mulder to make it for me. But he's not. He's stealing one last kiss and I can tell that, despite the dark desire I see in his eyes he's going to go back to his room if I don't do something about it. I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. I should just go into my room, curl up, and prepare for tomorrow. I slip my hand over his crotch instead. "Come inside?" The double entendre isn't lost on him. He stares at me wide eyed. He takes my hand from him, entwining our fingers. "We should talk." He moves his hand to his wrist, and kisses my palm. I don't want to talk. Talking is in fact the last thing on my mind. If that's what it takes to get him into my hotel room, then by God we'll talk. But we don't talk. He gets inside my room and I run to the bathroom. I'm shaking. What was I thinking? We can't do this. We're on a case. Just because I can't seem to control myself, doesn't mean I should stop trying. I hold back the tears, wash my face, and reenter the room. Mulder is sitting on the edge of the bed. He's staring at his hands. He looks up when I exit the bathroom, and he looks worried. I can't blame him. "You okay?" I nod. "I can't believe I did that." He laughs, and pulls me against him, hugging me close. "Hey, don't worry about it. We have a case to solve, as much as I think we shouldn't be on it, and I've been laying it on kind of thick." Damn him from being reasonable. When is Mulder ever reasonable? The one time I _don't_ want him to be, and he is. Or maybe... Oh, God. He really was just playing the part. The park...the car...I thought.... I feel sick, and I think I turn green. Mulder is suddenly laying me back on the bed, stretched out beside me. "Deep breaths, Scully. You okay? That popcorn must not have sat well with you." He kisses my forehead, tucking away a free strand of hair. "Go to sleep. We move in tomorrow." He doesn't leave the bed, though now I really wish he would. How could I have been so foolish? He's my best friend. And I've known for years he's a tactile person. So why should it be so strange that given the chance to touch me, he'd take it. As just a friend. Had he kissed me back at the park? Had I imagined it, because I wanted it? My stomach is in a knot, and it's a long time before I fall asleep. I swear to keep my distance from him now; I can't let myself get carried away. What he must think of me! ------------------------------- Falls of Arcadia San Diego County, California Feb 24 5:02pm Today has been hell. Driving up the winding side of this cliff to this damn house, I realize that I've walked right off of reality and into hell. Mulder hasn't brought up my complete lack of self-control from last night. I can tell he's upset though. I've shied away from his kisses, pulled myself out of his hugs, away from his arm being draped over my shoulder. He hasn't said anything. I'm not going to say anything. Dana Scully has left the building. In her place is Special Agent Scully, M.D., who has a case to solve. Special Agent Scully can banter playfully with her partner, without thinking of getting that partner in bed. Special Agent Scully doesn't feel warm and fuzzy when her partner introduces her as his wife. Special Agent Scully hates that the name on her false ID says "Laura Petrie". Dana Scully is who woke up this morning. And she was roughly set aside, and told to stay there. There is a case to solve, and just because I was looking forward to playing house with my partner, who seemed equally content to play house with me, does not mean that now is the time or the place. The happy couple front is just that. A front. I'm not sure what to do about Mulder. He seems hurt that I'm not playing into his advances anymore, but despite the three hour drive up here he hasn't said a word about it. I don't know if he will. I look over the pictures of the house, wishing I could call Tara. It's a beautiful house, if very cookie cutter. Special Agent Scully put Dana Scully in a headlock when she mentions that it would be nice to actually live there, with Mulder, as his wife. And not just this front. And Special Agent Scully is still fighting off Dana when the car comes to a stop and I have a very large welcome basket shoved in my hands. Dana does a little leap for joy as Mulder introduces me as lovely, and is quietly squashed by Special Agent Scully. I can't pull away from him in front of these people, but when the room is finally empty I extract myself. I try to be easy going about it, and he seems to understand. But his eyes say something entirely different from his face. What exactly did I destroy last night? Then I notice our friendly neighbors about to destroy over ten thousand dollars of lab equipment and Dana Scully finally shuts up. It's going to be a long case. --------------------------- Bill and Tara Scully Residence 6:04pm Feb 26th I stopped by my brother's after going to the field office today. I needed to talk to someone. And I could think of no one better than Tara to talk to out here on the West Coast. I stood on the base, and remembered the last few days, and wondered why I hadn't started crying yet. It had been a good birthday until I screwed it up. I'm finishing off one last cup of coffee, preparing myself for the drive back up to the Falls and to Mulder. I still haven't told Tara what happened. She was so busy with Mathew, and I certainly couldn't tell Bill without starting the third world war. So I sat through dinner, and pretended to be happy and enjoying undercover work, and that nothing was wrong. "So what exactly did he do to you, Dana?" Guess my little deception wasn't working. Bill's onto it. Why couldn't he have given Mathew his bath, so Tara could be here with me? "Mulder hasn't done anything, Bill. He's my partner. We're undercover. End of story." "And that's why you were hanging all over each other when you came out here. Look, I can't stand the man. I'd rather you had never met him. But, God, Dana, when he kissed you...I think you were in high school the last time I saw you look so damn happy. And the fact that he's not here, and you haven't mentioned him all night, sends all my big brother alarms going off. Now, tell me what he did, Dana." "Please, Bill, just leave it alone. The case is just getting to me. Doesn't help that I keep almost blowing our cover by forgetting who we're supposed to be." He sighs, and sits beside me. He's not buying it. Of course he wouldn't buy it. That would be too easy. "That's not enough to kill off happiness, Dana. If I promise to be a gentleman about it, will you tell me what he did? It'll help to talk about it. I just want what's best for you." Scully's are logical. I've decided I hate logic. "He really didn't do anything. I did. And things didn't exactly go the way I'd planned. I'm just trying to pick up the pieces and try and salvage our partnership. And hopefully keep some vestiges of our friendship alive too. He's been nothing but a gentleman." He laughs. A full reminds-me-of-Dad belly laugh. And it takes every last ounce of strength I have to keep the tears back. "And that's the problem. He's being a gentleman, and you don't want him to be. Maybe the two of you were made for each other. Have you talked to him about this?" He's still laughing. It's official, my brother is an asshole. "Talk to him about- I can't even think about what I did, and you want me to talk to him about it?! I'm trying to save my relationship with him, not destroy it further." "I want details." And just like the summer of my junior year of high school, when I asked a long time crush to the summer bonfire and got turned down, I pour my heart out to my older brother. I tell him everything, even though he hates Mulder so much. Maybe because he hates Mulder so much. His opinion will be biased toward staying away from my partner. Which, I suppose, is what I'm hoping to hear. I start with Mulder's proposal on the 20th, and I tell him about the beach and the fairy castle we built. I tell him about Sea World, and the way he'd be so chivalrous. Holding doors, helping me side step puddles. And he'd stand in line and play with the kids, their young mother's caught between fear and amusement as their children hung off of him. And the looks of mild jealously I got when he'd move away from the hyper toddlers, and kiss me. How I loved that. I told him of the kiss, the first real kiss, standing in a mob of people at the exit. And how he didn't say a word about it on the drive home, how we talked about a whale, and how forward I'd been. And how he hadn't seemed upset at all when it looked like I'd changed my mind. How the light kisses had started again first thing in the morning. Until last night. When I moved away before he could kiss me. When he leered and asked me to come to bed. How my heart had sung, and my brain had said go for it, and Special Agent Scully had said there is a case to solve. Maybe if he hadn't called my Laura. And suddenly my disgust with myself wasn't because I'd made such an overture and been rejected, because really I hadn't been, but because the following morning Mulder had been just the same with me, and I'd pushed him away. Whatever he felt for me, my sudden mood swings on my birthday hadn't changed them. And I was destroying our chances at a friendship, not him. He'd been happy. I'd been happy. Damn it. Bill was silent, shaking his head. He must have seen the change in me, as he smiled slightly. "Of all the men who had to go and fall in love with my baby sister, it had to be that jerk. And he makes you so damn happy; I can't even say anything about it without ending up as bad as he is. Not! Mind you that I ever want to see you even considering buying satin sheets with that man. Bad enough he drags you all over the country." Now I'm confused. Bill thinks Mulder is in love with me? And he isn't rushing for the car to beat him within an inch of his life? Who is this man, and where has he put my brother? I wonder if it's too late to try and patch things up. Between Mulder and my brother. Between my brother and I. Between Mulder and I. And then I'm certain I've fallen into an alternate dimension. "Go talk to him Dana. The man tries to protect your honor, and thereby your reputation and you wake up distant. And yet he still tries! Keep him the hell away from Tara, I don't need to lose my sister and my wife!" And for reasons I don't understand I'm walking out the door. And Bill is grinning like a proud parent, and Tara is coming downstairs looking completely confused. The ride back to Mulder is the longest two hours of my life. ------------------------------- Falls of Arcadia 9:00pm The gate welcomed me as Mrs. Petrie. And for the first time since Sea World I allowed myself to think of what it would be like for it to say Mrs. Mulder. But that reminds me of his mother, and I just continue on to the house. Mulder didn't seem to be home when I got in. Trying to keep my heart still I looked over the reports I'd picked up from the lab before going to my brother's. I really hope I kept the anticipation out of my voice when I first called to Mulder. Fear took over, and at least for the moment all thoughts of what my brother had said were gone from my mind. And then Mulder was there, and there was an X-file, and goddamn it if I didn't follow him like a lost puppy. Even as all I wanted to do was just keep him inside and tell him everything. Subterranean tunnels. Monsters. That's a stretch even for Mulder. I shiver in the yard, and Special Agent Scully is back and there is a case. But Dana is there, waiting for the right moment. And it comes with Mulder's sudden revelation. He's going to build a bloody reflecting pool in the front yard. And suddenly I'm laughing, and all the tension from the last few days is gone, and he's laughing too. I lean into him, dropping the lab results back into the bag. "Jesus, Mulder. You just like being difficult. Have you eaten?" I'm pushing him toward the kitchen, grinning and happy, and realizing that all the flirting these last few days aren't what really made me love him. It was this. His crazy mind, and his crazy theories, and how he'll do anything to get to the bottom of a mystery. Even put up with me being aloof. "I made spaghetti, there's leftovers in the freezer if you want some." He's back up on the breakfast bar, like he was our first day here. And I'm smiling like I was then, only it's not a Special Agent Scully I'm-humoring-you smile; it's a Dana Scully's I'm-in-love smile. And Mulder doesn't know the difference, but that doesn't matter. "I had dinner with my brother and Tara." I step between his legs, and his eyes go wide. I've been fighting with not touching him for days, caught between what I want and what I thought was best, and now I'm standing against him, my head on his breastbone. Go figure. "Do I need to worry about being murdered in my sleep by him?" His hands go around my waist, and he chuckles at the contented sound I make. I shake my head, just soaking in the warmth of him. "We should talk." I don't want to talk. Anymore than I did on my birthday. But not talking is what got us here. So I say it. And he nods and slips off the counter. I'm still pressed against his chest, and I'm loving every second of it. He leaves his arm around my waist, and grabs the ice cream from the fridge and two spoons before heading into the living room. When I protest about eating out of the carton he just laughs. "So, what is it that the lovely Agent Scully wants to talk about today?" He's left distance between us on the sofa, and I close it. If I'm going to do this, I don't need distance. I need to feel exactly what it is that I'm fighting for. "My birthday. And...and what I...did. I wanted to apologize, for that, and my behavior these last few days. I haven't been fair." "Apologize? What are you talking about? There's nothing to be sorry for." He holds up his spoon, now dripping with butter pecan ice cream. "Nothing happened." "And I've been a bitch because of it." I take the bite, because it's offered, and smile at him. "You've been nothing but kind, a gentleman, and I've pushed you away. I thought I was trying to salvage our friendship, when really I was the one that seemed bent on destroying it." "Nothing destroyed, and our friendship was never in any danger. Scully, what's going on?" He seems worried now, his back stiff. Dare I tell him? That's what this was about anyway. "You...We...I guess I jumped into the deep end without a life vest or swimming lessons. I was enjoying the attention you were giving me so much that I never considered the consequences. And then, sitting in the the car, realizing that I could bring you into my room, and then you were there, and I just felt sick. The weight of what I was proposing settled in, and the idea that maybe I was making assumptions for you that weren't true, and the fear of having to go on if _that_ were true...I panicked. And you didn't seem to mind. You hugged me, and told me to sleep, and you stayed there all night and didn't try a damn thing. You kissed me good morning, but didn't bring it up. All I could think, Mulder, was that I had made a mistake, and I had to back off. And my brother made me realize today, that even if I did make a mistake, the bigger one was trying to distance myself from you. That keeping you at arms length wasn't going to do anything but strain our friendship, not bring it back together." It was out. And I feel better. I sigh, and settle against his shoulder, glad that I can again. That I had faced these demons and had my best friend back. Not that I'd lost him. I'd simply lost myself. His arm tightens around me, and I glance up from digging through the ice cream container. And I'm on the receiving end of a butter pecan ice cream kiss. His lips are cold, and light as they brush against mine. No more pressure than the good morning kiss I got on the 24th. He pulls back, and smiles at me. "I didn't say anything," his lips brush against mine again, "because I didn't think," and again, "that you had wanted to go through with anything the night before." Again. Dana Scully does not swoon, but I was as close to it as I can get. "You seemed so scared when you woke up and found me there, that I thought I'd been reading you wrong the last few days. I was sure of it when you backed off all day, so I just left it alone. I thought that, if I just took things back to before that evening, that it'd be okay." He kisses me again, long and soft, and deep, and if his half finished confession hadn't left me speechless the kiss would have. "I know I should have just left you alone, but I couldn't. I'd gotten used to being able to touch you." He shrugs, fighting my spoon for a recently discovered pecan in the ice cream. "I guess I threw too much at you. I should be the one that's sorry." "We're a pair, aren't we?" I smiled, dropping our of the fight, and was rewarded by being fed the nut when Mulder had finished digging it out. "I guess we are. It's why we work so well together. We just fit." "Like baby cats?" I grin. That had been cracking me up since yesterday, but I hadn't said anything. I'd been Special Agent Scully, and Special Agent Scully does not find things like that humorous. "Kittens. Okay? Like kittens. I don't think well on my feet in suburbia, what can I say?" He grins back, and bends to kiss me again. I meet him half way, and I think I hear the ice cream hitting the floor. I wonder if ice cream stains are against the CC and Rs. Breathless, lightheaded, and deliriously happy, the kiss is broken and I just lay boneless against his chest. I'm drifting off to sleep when I realize the room is going to smell horrible if we leave the ice cream on the floor all night. I extract myself from his arms, brushing my lips against his, returning the thousand little kisses he's given me since this started, and start to clean. An hour later and I'm comfortably enclosed in the cotton pajamas I brought, and Mulder's arms. He's playing with my hair, standing in the bedroom while I work the earrings off. And then he's gone. He's heading for the door with a G'night Scully, see you in the morning. A rising panic starts in the base of my spine. "Stay Mulder. Please?" And he's grinning, and he's back behind me with his arms around my waist. I lean back against him and we stumble back toward the bed. We lay spooning, and Mulder's hand, the one draped over my waist, is walking up and down my stomach. It's putting me to sleep, and I really hadn't planned on sleeping much tonight. ----------------------------- "What are you doing?" It's been nearly half an hour since I asked him to stay and we stumbled to the bed. And his hands haven't stopped moving, making constellations on my stomach that I can't see. His voice, when it comes, is right next to my ear, his breath stirring my hair. "I haven't seen you wear patterned fabric since...late '93? Early '94? It's been solids, usually black. Your cream trench coat was often the only color I'd see on your for days at a time. And you certainly don't wear this sort of thing to bed at home." "How would you know that?" My voice is sleepy. I'd have already been flying in dreamland if I hadn't been fighting so hard to stay awake. "It's not really you. Anymore than those earrings are you. You enjoy subtlety, and don't like flamboyant jewelry getting in the way. When you decide to sleep in bed, you go for solid satins, whites and blues mainly. A purple here and there. You buy them a size too big, so you don't have to unbutton them. If you plan on spending the night in front of a case file or the TV you stick with oversize T-shirts or sweatshirts and leggings. Your necklace is the only jewelry you wear to bed." "You've been stalking me." I kind of like the idea that he has, that he's watched me sleep. I'm not surprised by his answer though. "No, I just have a knack for coming to pick you up well before you're dressed. It used to be an accident, it's become force of habit anymore." He kisses my temple, then lays back down beside me. His arm tightens around my waist, and I feel him, pressed against my back. Yet I know now we'll just sleep. And I like that idea. That we can just lay here together, and sleep. I roll over, so I can bury my face in his chest. "Love you," I murmur, finally letting sleep win. "Love you too, Scully. See you in the morning." I haven't slept so well in years. ------------------------- Bill and Tara Scully residence Feb 28th 12:46pm We haven't slept yet. Mulder woke me yesterday, and we didn't get out of bed until the backhoe arrived to start work on our undercover forensic dig. We talked, a lot, while we lay curled up in bed yesterday morning. Mulder finally drug himself out of bed, met the backhoe worker, grabbed a shower and spent the rest of the day in the yard. I did something I swore I'd never do. I cleaned house, and spent most of the day in the kitchen. I made him breakfast, then I started packing up the few odds an ends that had made their way out of the boxes. We'd be out of here in a day or two anyway, might as well start in on packing. I made lunch, and we ate it on the grass watching the front yard get rent in half. I did the dishes, I did laundry, I started on dinner. It was...domestic. Except for the giant backhoe that Mulder was hovering around all day. And the fact that he was neck deep in the mud as soon as the sun went down, when he should have been neck deep in me. Third time I went out there to bring him in, and he looked like he'd finally cracked. I didn't think that the shower would be the most romantic place for the first time I made love to Fox Mulder, but the idea of washing all that mud from him made me reconsider. Then he saw the damn woodcutter thing. He's calling it a whirligig to Bill now, as we eat lunch at my brother's place. What kind of name is that? The bedroom was declared a crime scene, and the bathroom became off limits as well. And there were police officers and little lab moles come out to work the hole Mulder had dug. All crawling everywhere. And the local field office sent in a couple of agents, and while Mulder showered downstairs I was left to answer questions. We never got to sleep, the police cars and our fellow field agents left around 6 in the morning. I packed up our clothes once they were gone then finished up my field report as fast as I could. We dropped it, the case notes, and the jewelry off at the field office and then went to my brothers. We're leaving in the morning. Back to D.C. and the normal grind, and separate apartments, and the only thing we had was a whispered I love you in the dark the night before. "- sees me and turns, dropping Googolac on the sidewalk and stomping toward me. I was half tempted to just peel off my show and throw it at the thing, but I don't think it would have done much good. Then it just dissolves to dirt and trash right there on the front step. I'm knee deep in it, and it does not smell pleasant. Dana comes around the corner, and the look on her face is just priceless. Did you see it at all Dana?" Crap, he's addressing me, and all I've really heard of the story is him calling me Dana. It doesn't sound right, but he's the only not-Scully in the room. There's Captain Scully, and Mrs. Scully, and little baby Scully. I wonder if Mom and Dad ever had such strange houseguests as Mulder when Bill was a baby. "All I saw was you playing in the mud rather that trying to get me out of the closet." I smile at him, and he scowls at me. Bill is trying desperately not to laugh, with the same face he used to get as a kid. Since showing up an hour ago, he and Mulder have actually been...dare I think it, friendly. It took about three minutes of their talking to each other as human beings to realize that they were alike. It took Tara urging to find out how the case ended for them to stop talking basketball. I'm not sure if I like them better like this, or would rather have them not talking at all. "No aliens, huh? I'm disappointed. Large trash monsters just seem so, I'm not really sure." Bill's up then, and cleaning the table. Mulder gets up to help, which surprises me to no end. I hear Mulder say "So Saturday morning?" and them both laugh, and then their in the kitchen and I'm left with Tara and Mathew on the back porch. "So, was he worth the wait?" Tara is grinning at me, and letting Mathew out of his high chair. He's off chasing the boys into the kitchen as soon as he's free. "Excuse me?" I feel myself blushing, and wonder, not for the first time, why I had to be cursed with the Irish blood. "Fox. You've been grinning at him since you arrived. And, as your sister-in-law, I want details." She scoots her chair closer, so that if the boys come back out they won't be able to hear us. "There's nothing to tell. Nothing's changed." And it's not a lie. He's been hovering over me like he always does. He's still stealing chaste kisses when he's sure no one from the Bureau is watching, and if those soft brushes of his lips turn into something more when there isn't _anyone_ watching, well, Tara need not know that. "Oh, come off it Dana. He's wearing the same look Bill gets when he steps off his ship and sees me. I know that look, and it has nothing to do with undercover operations, or deep abiding friendship. Now spill!" She grins, and it reminds me of the long nights at home during college, when Melissa would come back and we'd sit up all night talking about boyfriends, and the future, and exactly how we were going to sneak out of the house that night to go meet those boyfriends. "I mean it, Tara. We talked after I left here the other night. When we woke up, we talked some more. We had a earthmover coming to dig up the front lawn, as he said, for a reflecting pool, that morning, so it was cut short. I packed, he played in the mud, we were attacked and spent the rest of the night fending off police officers and nosy neighbors. That was it." "Then tell me, Dana, why the hell is he in there with Bill doing the dishes, and why are you out here talking to me? Bill and I are going to take Mathew to the zoo, it closes at 8, we won't be back until then. Make yourself at home. Everything you need is in the box in the walk in closet in the master bedroom. The keys in the night stand." She flashes a nasty grin at me, and then is up and in the kitchen to tell Bill what's going on. The last thing I need is my brother knowing that his wife wants us to...in his house! I'm out of my chair and racing after her. "TARA, wait!" I skid to a stop in the kitchen, hoping I'm not to late. And my mouth drops open. Mulder has Mathew on his knee; the boy has tearstains on his face and his overalls unbuttoned. There's a small cut on his leg, which Bill is in the process of cleaning and bandaging it. Mulder is whispering to my nephew, and as my heart rate drops back to normal I can hear him. "Yup. Sure did. Nice big old cut right on my leg. Only I wasn't little like you, I was already grown up. I think I cried more though. I just cried and cried, even after your Aunt Dana fixed it all up. You're being so brave, and not crying. But I bet you won't do that again, huh? Got to keep an eye where you're going in a place like a kitchen. Bathrooms are pretty dangerous too. That's why mommies and daddies say not to run in houses, because chairs have evil pointy things that hurt you." Bill finishes, and pulls Mathew's pants down and rebuttons them along the inseam. Mulder hands the boy to his father, who, like our father used to do when we were small, takes him over to one of the chairs and tells Mathew to give it a good spanking for hurting him. Mathew's only half hearted about it, already forgetting the pain and the blood and ready to go play again. Tara's over by their side a second later, all thoughts of the zoo forgotten for the moment. Mulder comes over to me. "Decided he was going to play superman in the kitchen. Didn't listen when Bill told him to stop running. Slipped, and slid right into the chair. It barely broke the skin, scared him more than anything." He slips an arm around my waist as we watch my brother and his family move off into the living room to find something quieter to amuse Mathew. "Where did you learn that?" I lean against him, imagining him a father. Wishing I could be the child's mother. Wishing the in vitro had worked, that I had the strength to try again, wondering how life would be different now if it had. If Mulder would have been willing to be the child's father. "Learn what? I didn't do anything." "Mulder, when I was here the other day, he fell backwards onto his diaper. None of us could get him to stop crying, and he hadn't even hurt himself. Tara and I didn't even hear a whimper." "Oh. Well, he was shocked when it first happened. I was closest so I just scooped him up and started talking. Like all those damn nurses do when they're about to rip off the medical tape, or stick you with a new IV. Keep them distracted. Bill went to clean it up, and he cried a bit when it was being washed." He shrugs. "I just knew I hated being coddled when I was little, and being told it was silly that I did it, but that it wasn't unusual for it to happen made me feel better than being snuggled and baby talked at. Sam liked that, never did understand why." "You're amazing." I stand on tiptoe and kiss him softly. I never thought I could love this man any more, I was wrong. He fills up every empty part of me, and starts sharing space with others. Bill comes back, Tara and Mathew in the living room. "Tara wants to take him to the zoo." I feel the flush coming back, and turn my eyes down. I'm going to kill my sister in law. "You must be tired. You are more than welcome to stay here, if you want to. But no Knicks on my TV, buddy." He points at Mulder, and I'm not sure which is scarier. That he called Mulder buddy, or that they're arguing about basketball teams and Bill's not trying to strangle my partner. I'm fully prepared to crawl into the woodwork. I hear Bill's words, and I hope that's all Mulder hears because I can hear the underlying tone to my brother's voice. It's the same tone he used with Melissa when he'd take Charlie and I out to the mall when her boyfriend of the week was at the house. "I'm taking them to the mall, Mel," he'd say, "Don't drink all the soda." And we'd come home and the bedroom I shared with her would smell of sex, and her bed would be a disaster, and she'd be in the shower, and the boyfriend would be long gone. My brother is giving me permission to sleep with my partner, in his house. I think I'm going to be sick. I turn green and am about three seconds away from running to the bathroom when Mulder tightens his grip on my waist and smiles. "San Diego zoo? You wanna go, Scully? We'll stay out of their hair, but I've always wanted to go." He's looking down at me, smiling, and I know he knows. He heard it too. Samantha was only eight when she disappeared; he never got to the age where she'd be bringing boys home. But maybe big brothers are born knowing that tone, or maybe Bill isn't as subtle now as he was when he was 19. I thank him with a smile, which only widens at the look on Bills face. I see the respect for my partner go up a notch in my brother's book. "No need to stay out of our hair. Mathew's in there asking if you're going, actually. He seems to enjoy the idea of you hurting yourself, Mr. Mulder." Bill grins at me, and nods. "It's tiring, taking a one year old around a zoo, though. There's no pressure for you to stay with us." He smiles again, and goes back into the living room to tell Tara we're going with them. I can almost hear the look of incredulousness on her face. "It's a nice zoo, Mulder. I'm just hoping Tara doesn't ask us to stay the night." I lean against his chest, wondering if I should have taken my brother up on his unspoken offer. Mulder smells so damn good right now. He leans over me, whispering in my ear. I shiver as his breath washes over me, and then shiver again when his words sink in. "There's a reason I was leaving the room the other night, Dana. I want you, all of you. I love you. But the Falls, or some hotel, or your brother's guest room isn't where I want you. When I make love to you, Dana Katherine Scully, it's going to be in your bed, and you're not getting out of it for hours." He kisses my neck, and tomorrow can't come soon enough. I call Skinner on the way to the zoo. We won't be in Thursday or Friday, sir, because though our plane comes in Thursday morning, we haven't been sleeping well knowing we're in the heart of a murderous neighborhood, and we'll have the report on his desk at 6am on Monday. He says nine, there's no way he's coming in that early on a Monday. I lean across the seat after hanging up, and lean my head against Mulder's shoulder. Bill and Tara are driving the minivan we've been using, and Mathew is strapped into the car seat in the middle row. Bill is complaining about ego death driving this thing, and Mulder keeps playing with Mathew's hair, making the boy giggle. I've found happiness, and amazingly I spend the entire day holding hands with Mulder, being kissed by Mulder, in front of my brother, with my brother looking approving, wonders never cease, and I don't think once of what's going to happen when we get home. Whatever happens when we get there, this is love. And it doesn't give a damn about sex, or trash monsters, or over protective brothers. It just is. And it is beautiful. END