From: bellefleur <bellefleur1013@yahoo.com>
Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2005 02:09:42 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Hearts on the Mend by bellefleur
Source: direct

TITLE: HEARTS ON THE MEND
AUTHOR: bellefleur
EMAIL ADDRESS: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: sure
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: S, A
KEYWORDS: MSR
SPOILER WARNING: through season 7, then AU
DISCLAIMER: Not mine; they belong to CC, FOX, etc.
SUMMARY: After a personal tragedy has torn them apart, Mulder 
and Scully wonder if their relationship is broken beyond repair. 

Notes: A special thanks to my beta X-PhileChick#35 (a.k.a. 
UnderMySkinner) for catching all those pesky typos and letting 
me bounce ideas off of her, and for her all around support. 



********
Prologue
********

New Saigon Restaurant
7:35 pm

While the waiter set down their plates, Dana Scully took 
advantage of the opportunity to examine, unnoticed, the man 
seated across the table from her.  He was graying at the 
sideburns, which was not so unusual for a man in his 40s, but 
otherwise he seemed to wear his age well.  The eyes hidden 
behind his glasses were an interesting shade of blue, although 
it was hard to get a good look at them in this dim lighting.  
His build was average, but he seemed short to her at only 5'8" 
since she was so accustomed to having a man tower over her 
petite frame.

As her eyes moved to his mouth, Dana saw the edges curve up in a 
grin and realized she had been caught staring.  A quick glance 
at his eyes confirmed this before she fixed her gaze on her own 
plate and tried to hide her blush behind a curtain of hair. 

But Roger Loomis seemed to take it all in stride.  After all, he 
had been stealing glances of his own earlier while she perused 
her menu.  Such were the dynamics of any first date.  He decided 
to show a little mercy by not pointing out the obvious but 
moving on to safer conversation. 

"So, Dana, do you have any good med school stories to share?  
You must have had a psych rotation.  I'm sure that experience 
alone could fill volumes." 

Dana smiled up at her dinner companion as she considered the 
question.  Roger was a psychiatrist, and their similar 
background in medicine was one of the things that had sparked 
their interest in each other.  Just as she was about to respond 
with a particularly amusing anecdote, she heard the muffled 
sound of a phone ringing in her purse. 

"Excuse me, but I need to get this.  I'm waiting for some 
important lab results to come through."  With a rueful look to 
punctuate her apology, she turned away slightly to answer her 
phone.  "Scully." 

"Agent Scully?  This is Walter Skinner." 

Both of Scully's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and even Roger 
could see that this was not the call she was expecting. 

"Hello, sir.  What can I do for you?" 

"I'm sorry to bother you like this, Scully, but I wasn't sure 
who else to call." 

It was obvious that he was hesitant to tell her something, and 
although he had not yet spoken the name, she knew whom this was 
about--and that it was not something good.  A feeling of panic 
began to churn in her stomach. 

"What is it?  What's wrong?" 

"It's Mulder.  He's in the hospital.  They're not sure if he's 
going to regain consciousness.  He--"

"Just tell me what hospital, and I'm on my way." 


***** 
Act I
***** 

En route to San Francisco International Airport
April 21, 2006
8:15 pm

"Thanks again, Roger.  You really didn't have to drive me to the 
airport.  I could've taken a cab." 

"Nonsense.  It's not like I had any other plans this evening."  
The gentle rebuke was given good-naturedly, and he waved off her 
protest before she started apologizing again.  "Just explain to 
me why you're dropping everything to run off to your ex-
husband." 

Scully turned her gaze to the passenger-side window, although 
her focus was fixed inward rather than outside the car.  "It's 
complicated." 

"Most relationships are.  Look, we've still got another twenty 
minutes to kill before we get there."  At her silence, he 
pressed on.  "I'm not asking this as your date, or even as a 
psychologist.  Just consider me a friend.  You look like you 
could use someone to talk to." 

Scully sighed and shifted in her seat.  She did want to tell 
someone, because there was so much of this she had kept to 
herself, especially since she moved.  She had been looking for a 
fresh start, but now she realized how impossible it was to 
escape her past. 

Just when Roger had given up hope for the conversation, a small 
voice emerged from the quiet. 

"Mulder was my partner, back when I lived in DC.  We worked 
together for almost seven years before the relationship turned 
into something more personal.  And then, I got pregnant.  It was 
quite unexpected.  You see, we thought I couldn't have children, 
and so we never expected....  We were both so happy about the 
baby, but we knew it would change our relationship at work, and 
so we decided to get married.  It just seemed the right thing to 
do at the time." 

Scully paused and tried to keep her emotions under control 
before she continued.  She told herself that she was only 
recounting history and could do this objectively, without 
breaking down.
 
"We had a son, William.  One day when he was four years old, I 
took him to the local playground.  I was watching him play in 
the sandbox when I heard a scream.  This little girl had fallen 
off the slide and injured her arm, so I ran over to help.  But 
when I looked back to check on William, he was gone.  We put all 
our resources into searching for him, but it wasn't until two 
weeks later that we caught our first lead on the case.  Soon 
after that, the whole story came out." 

Dana took a deep breath to steady herself and continued.  "Our 
son was taken by a serial killer who had been preying on young 
boys in the area.  The heightened publicity from our case helped 
the FBI to catch him, but not until it was too late.  The killer 
knew we were coming and torched his house before the agents got 
there.  Our son's remains were found among the shallow graves in 
his basement. 

"It was the loss of our son that tore us apart.  We had been 
through so much together over the years, but this was more than 
either of us could bear.  We chose to grieve in our own ways.  I 
found solace in the work, as I always had.  I needed to keep 
going so that I wouldn't have time to fall apart.  I didn't cry, 
because I knew if I started that I would never be able to stop.  
But Mulder cried all the time.  He couldn't let go.  He showed 
up for work late, or not at all, and he started drinking.  
Nothing I said could get him to snap out of it.  One day it just 
became too much for me.  The whole atmosphere in our home was 
oppressive.  I needed to get away for awhile, to clear the air.  
I took two weeks of vacation and went to stay with my mother.  I 
thought maybe the time away from each other would do us both 
some good.  Apparently, he wanted more that just two weeks.  The 
day after I left, Mulder filed for divorce.  I haven't seen him 
since.  That was nearly a year ago." 

The signs to the airport indicated to both Roger and his 
passenger that the conversation would soon end.  They both knew 
that certain parting words were in order before they went their 
separate ways. 

"You still love him."  It was not a question, really, but a 
confirmation of what she already knew, what she had perhaps 
tried to hide from herself. 

The reply was quiet, but intelligible.  "I've loved him for as 
long as I can remember." 

As they pulled up to the departure area, Roger parked and 
stepped around to the trunk to retrieve Dana's bag.  Both had 
wondered earlier if the evening would end with a kiss, but it 
was clear now that the ending would be much different than they 
had first anticipated. 

Dana was hasty to speak so that she could get out what she 
needed to say.  "Look, Roger, I'm sorry for how the evening 
turned out, but I think it's for the best.  I thought I was 
ready to move on with my life, but I'm not.  I really appreciate 
the ride, and the dinner, but I don't think...." 

Roger spared her having to find the right words to turn him 
down.  He stretched out his hand for a shake as he offered her a 
smile of reassurance.  "I hope you'll still consider me a 
friend." 

Dana reached out her hand to his and smiled in response.  After 
they warmly clasped each other's hands, Roger leaned over and 
gave her a quick kiss on her cheek before she picked up her bag 
and turned to go. 

As Scully entered the revolving door to the terminal, she could 
not help but think that Roger really was a very sweet man and 
that maybe, if things had been different, they would have gone 
out on a second date.  But that was the last thought she gave 
him as her focus now turned to the man waiting for her in a 
hospital bed back in Washington.

*****
*****

DC General Hospital
April 23, 2006
3:45 pm

It was not until Scully had arrived at the hospital later that 
night that she heard the full story from her former boss.  Fox 
Mulder had been brought in with alcohol poisoning.  Having drank 
his limit at two different bars, he passed out after stumbling 
into a third, and the bartender called the paramedics when she 
couldn't wake him.  The doctors said he was lucky to be alive, 
and to still have his liver intact, but after his vitals 
stabilized he did not wake up.  The only contact they could find 
for him was Skinner, but he was not family.  If any decisions 
had to be made concerning Mulder's long term care, they had to 
be made by someone else.  The only someone Skinner knew to 
contact was Mulder's ex-wife.

And so, in a routine that was all too familiar, Scully had taken 
up her bedside vigil, watching over her partner once again. 

It was on the third day that Mulder finally showed some interest 
in emerging from his long sleep.  The slight movement of his 
head drew Scully's attention away from the magazine in her lap, 
which she quickly set aside.  Standing up to lean over him, she 
gently stroked the hair away from his temple, a gesture of 
tenderness and habit rather than necessity. 

Gently, she encouraged him to open his eyes.  "Time to wake up, 
sleeping beauty." 

"Isn't the princess supposed to kiss me first?"  His eyes were 
still closed, but the groggy response was what she had been 
hoping for and brought a smile to her lips. 

"No, that was the prince, and I'm afraid that Skinner has 
stepped out for the moment." 

A grin broke across Mulder's face as he finally started to blink 
his eyes open, adjusting to the intrusive light.  Once his focus 
began to clear, his senses took in the vision hovering above him 
and the feeling of the soft hand continuing to stroke his brow.  
Mulder closed his eyes again and sighed.  "I must be dreaming." 

Scully pulled her hand away and withdrew a little. "If you were 
dreaming, I would hope that you'd find a better place for us to 
meet than in a hospital." 

This time his sigh was not of comfort but of regret as he again 
opened his eyes.  Scully was no longer hovering over him but was 
now standing next to the bed with her arms crossed in front of 
her--a standard defensive posture.  Her tenderness and concern 
had passed with his return to consciousness, and now the past 
year stood between them like an elephant in the room. 

Mulder turned his face away and closed his eyes again.  Being 
confronted with reality reminded him painfully of why he was so 
reluctant to rejoin the land of the living.  "What are you doing 
here?" 

There was a moment of silence that he could not read before 
Scully responded.  "Skinner called me.  The doctors were 
concerned that you might not wake up again, and they needed 
someone here who could make decisions for you." 

He did not hide the bitterness in his voice.  "You should've 
told them to pull the plug.  There was no point in wasting good 
bed space by keeping me alive." 

Mulder's eyes were open now but he was not looking at her, so 
Scully moved around the bed to intercept his line of sight.  She 
leaned over the rail and tilted her head to look him square in 
the eyes.  "There was no plug to be pulled.  You only managed to 
drink yourself into a coma, not into the next life.  If you were 
looking to kill yourself, there are much better ways." 

He flinched at her harsh words.  With contrition in his eyes, he 
replied barely above a whisper: "What are you doing here, 
Scully?" 

They both knew that the answer he sought was much different than 
the explanation she had just given him.  Scully backed down from 
her assertive pose and walked back around the bed to resume her 
seat before responding.  Mulder's eyes followed her motion so 
that his head was once more turned in her direction as she sat 
down. 

Her eyes were focused on the hands in her lap when she finally 
spoke, her light tone failing to mask her emotions.  "I was on a 
date when he called me.  The first date I've been on in a year.  
I thought I was ready for it, but apparently I wasn't."  Her 
eyes were blazing when her gaze met his again.  "You don't just 
walk away from twelve years of partnership.  You can't get rid 
of me that easily." 

When the divorce happened, neither of them had contested it, nor 
had they ever talked about it.  They were long overdue for this 
conversation. 

Mulder looked away again.  "I wasn't trying to get rid of you.  
It was obvious that you needed to move on with your life, and 
you couldn't do that with me as your baggage.  I was just trying 
to do what was best for you." 

"Best for me?!?"  Scully stood and loomed over him again as she 
raised her voice.  "Since when do you decide what's best for me?  
That's for me to decide, Mulder.  It always has been.  I 
remember making a commitment for better or for worse, and I 
meant it.  Obviously it didn't mean the same thing to you." 

"You never contested it.  I knew you'd never ask for the 
divorce, so I spared you the guilt and did it for you." 

"Don't try putting this on me, Mulder.  You're the one who 
wanted the divorce, not me.  And I wasn't about to go crawling 
back to a husband who didn't want me." 

"You're the one who left." 

"For a vacation!  Not for good!  But you couldn't file the 
papers fast enough once I was out the door.  You must've gone to 
the lawyer's office the day I left.  Was it really so easy to 
just end it after twelve years?" 

Scully did not realize she had been leaning over him and yelling 
until the tears trickling down his face brought her out of her 
rage and back to the moment. 

His quiet reply was the perfect antithesis to her raised voice.  
"Of course not.  I just...."  But he couldn't find the words to 
express what he really needed to say. 

Scully brushed away the tears that had escaped from her own eyes 
and sighed as she moved away.  "God, Mulder.  How did things get 
so messed up between us?  After everything we've been through, I 
never thought that another tragedy would pull us apart.  We 
always relied on each other's strength to get us through 
whatever came our way.  But somehow, we let this divide us, when 
we should've been holding each other together." 

His whispered reply was barely loud enough for her to hear, but 
it caused her to raise her head and once again return to his 
side.  "I never stopped loving you." 

Scully took his hand in her own and kissed it before pressing it 
to her cheek that was now wet with tears.  "Neither did I, 
Mulder.  Neither did I." 

*****
*****

DC General Hospital
April 25, 2006
2:34 pm

Mulder's recovery came more swiftly after he regained 
consciousness, and conversation between the former partners came 
more easily after that initial exchange had helped to clear the 
air.  They both knew that so much more needed to be said, 
especially as the time of Mulder's release drew near.  But the 
fact was that they missed each other and were taking the time to 
simply enjoy one another's company again. 

Having no other reason to be in the city, and not willing to 
leave until Mulder received a clean bill of health, Scully 
dutifully returned to the hospital every day.  It was here, by 
his bedside, that Skinner found her one afternoon while the 
patient was napping. 

When Skinner poked his head inquisitively through the doorway, 
Scully stepped out into the hall with him so that they could 
talk without disturbing Mulder.  Skinner was also grateful for 
the privacy since there were things they needed to discuss that 
he was not eager for Mulder to overhear. 

"How is he?" 
 
"Resting comfortably, for now.  His body has rid itself of the 
toxins and his liver seems to be functioning normally, so the 
doctor will probably release him tomorrow." 
 
Skinner took a moment to regard her tired appearance.  "I wasn't 
sure that you'd still be here.  I thought maybe you'd go home 
after he was out of the woods." 

"I didn't fly all the way out here just to run away again once 
he was conscious.  You called me out here for a reason, and I'm 
not leaving until I'm sure that he'll be okay." 

The now Deputy Director suppressed a wistful smile as he 
recognized the agent's determined pose.  It had been too many 
years since these partners last faced him together on the 
opposite side of his desk. 

"That's actually what I want to talk to you about.  He hasn't 
been okay for a long time.  I knew about the drinking, but I've 
managed to keep it under wraps at the Bureau.  I thought I was 
doing him a favor after all he's been through, but I guess now 
that I was just enabling him.  This time, I can't just sweep it 
under the rug.  Officially, he's on medical leave, but OPR won't 
let him return to his job until he's proven that he's clean.  
The drinking's got to stop.  I'm hoping that maybe you can talk 
him into going to rehab or something.  If he doesn't, he'll be 
out of a job." 

Moving back over to the door, Scully watched the man in question 
through the window as he slept.  "I might be able to talk him 
into joining AA or some outpatient program, but I don't know 
that he'll stick to it without some accountability.  If he's 
determined, he'll see it through.  But I'm not convinced he'll 
be committed to it.  He'll probably just agree to it so we'll 
let him leave the hospital, but as soon as I leave town, it's 
just a matter of time before he's back at the bar." 

Scully turned back to face Skinner, who still looked beyond her 
to the man that she was just watching, as she continued.  "We 
both have open wounds that have never healed.  I think he needs 
to get into counseling.  That may be even harder to talk him 
into than AA, but without it, he'll never find the willpower to 
quit drinking." 

Skinner's gaze now returned to the woman in front of him.  "What 
about you?" 

She wasn't sure if he was asking about her own wounds or her 
role in Mulder's recovery, but she turned away again to face the 
door.  Seeing Mulder stirring in his bed offered her a reprieve 
as she pushed the door open and avoided both questions. 

"He's awake." 

* * *

After exchanging pleasantries with Mulder, Skinner took his 
leave.  He had inquired with a glance whether Scully thought he 
should bring up with the agent what they had discussed in the 
hallway, but she silently communicated with him that it would be 
better if he left that conversation to her. 

Perceptive as always, Mulder took note of the look that passed 
between the two and saved Scully the difficulty of finding a way 
to breach the subject. 

"I don't imagine Skinner was here merely for a social call.  
What were you two talking about in the hallway?" 

Debating for a moment how straightforward she should be, Scully 
decided that avoiding direct confrontation of the problem had 
enabled the situation for far too long.  The echo of a line 
about being a friend who always told him the truth floated 
through Scully's head as she turned to look her ex-husband 
square in the eye. 

"No, it wasn't just a social call.  He wanted to talk to me 
about your future with the Bureau.  Officially, you're on 
medical leave, but if you don't sober up, you won't have a job 
to go back to." 

Mulder sighed in resignation and turned his head away.  "I don't 
imagine they'll consider that much of a loss, and I'm not sure 
that I will either." 

"You're a good agent, Mulder.  Don't give up now.  You're 
stronger than this.  You can beat this." 

At the conviction in her voice, Mulder turned back toward her 
with the first glimmer of hope that she had seen in his eyes in 
a long time.  "You always believed in me, even when I didn't 
believe in myself.  I don't care about the job, Scully, but I do 
care about you.  You're the only thing that has really mattered 
in my life for a long time.  I won't do this for me, but I'll do 
it for you.  If you ask me to, I'll do it for you." 

With a sigh, Scully reached over to take his hand.  "You have to 
want this for yourself.  And it will take more than just a 
promise to stop drinking.  You need help, Mulder.  Professional 
help.  That means accountability and counseling.  And you have 
to commit to it.  I know you, and I know that you can accomplish 
anything you set your mind to, but you have to want it to stick 
with it." 

Mulder looked down at their joined hands and then replied to her 
quietly, "Do you think there's a chance for us?" 

Her response matched his quiet tone.  "What are you asking me, 
Mulder?" 

"Will you take me back?  Will you give me a chance to make 
things right between us?" 

"It isn't that simple.  We can't just pick up where we left off.  
You have to get clean first.  And even then, it will take work, 
on both our parts.  There are a lot of wounds that need to be 
healed, and a lot of old habits that we need to break.  It's a 
long, difficult road." 

"But, do you want to go down that road?  That's what I'm asking.  
Do you want to give us another try?" 

His eyes were pleading with her, but she knew that it was not a 
simple decision to make.  Being married to an alcoholic, even a 
recovered one, was not a cakewalk.  There were many ghosts that 
haunted them both, and every day together was a reminder of the 
son that was no longer with them.  But there were so many good 
memories, too.  Including that day at the altar when they 
committed to stay with each other for better or for worse, in 
sickness and in health.  It was a commitment that she had made 
in her own heart long before that day.  And, if she was honest 
with herself, it was a commitment that she still strongly felt.  
In the end, there was no choice, really.  There was only the 
continuation of the path that she had started on long ago. 

Sniffing back her tears before they escaped, Scully put on her 
most determined look to make sure that Mulder knew she meant 
business.  "Only if you meet my conditions." 

The hope in his eyes returned, matched with a burgeoning smile.  
"Name them." 

"You have to get sober first.  And you have to go to counseling.  
Once Skinner determines that you're ready to go back to work, 
then we can talk about us." 

"Done.  What else?" 

Scully couldn't help but smile at his eagerness.  "I think 
that's enough for now.  But I reserve the right to establish 
more conditions later, if I deem them necessary." 

"Anything, Scully.  Anything."  His eyes communicated what his 
words really meant--more than just meeting her conditions, he 
would do anything for her.  He had always felt this way about 
her, and that had never changed.

A stillness descended as they both focused on their joined 
hands, each lost in their own thoughts about what they had just 
committed to.  It was Mulder who finally broke the silence. 

"Uh, Scully, what does this mean for us in the meantime?  I 
mean, are we...?"  He was struggling to find the words to get 
across what he wanted to say.  "What are we, to each other, for 
now?"  At her hesitation to answer, he finally got up the 
courage to ask what he really wanted to.  "I mean, what about 
that guy you're seeing?" 

"I'm not exactly 'seeing' him.  It was only one date, and not 
even a complete one.  Somehow I don't think I made a very good 
impression by ending the date early to run back to my husband." 

"Your husband? Or your ex-husband?"  He was still trying to get 
the answer to his earlier question. 

Looking into his eyes, and still reading the glimmer of hope 
there, she found her answer.  "My husband.  My exasperating, 
impulsive, crazy, messed up, brilliant, passionate husband." 

Lifting her hand to his lips, his gaze never wavered from hers 
as he gently kissed each of her knuckles.  Letting their joined 
hands fall back down to the bed, he responded on a contented 
sigh, "My wife." 

*****
*****

DC General Hospital
April 26, 2006
9:15 am

The next morning, Scully arrived at the hospital to find Mulder 
dressed and ready to go.  His doctor had pronounced him healthy 
enough to leave, so Scully volunteered to give him a ride home.  
Anticipating his release, she had already booked a flight for 
that afternoon so she could get home and back to work before 
having to ask for more time off. 

After the divorce, Mulder had kept the house, so Scully found 
the drive eerily familiar, although the circumstances that now 
brought her there had much altered with time.  As she pulled up 
in front of the house, mentally noting that the lawn needed to 
be mowed and the flower beds weeded, she parked but left the 
engine running.  There was an awkward silence in the car as 
neither of them was quite sure how to say goodbye. 

Mulder decided to start by delaying the inevitable.  "Would you 
like to come in for a minute?" 

After a brief deliberation, Scully turned off the engine.  
"Alright, but I can't stay very long.  I need to leave for the 
airport soon." 

Getting out of the car, Mulder waited for Scully to join him 
before they walked toward the house together.  A familiar hand 
settled on her lower back as they approached the building, 
withdrawing only as they arrived at the door so that he could 
dig out his keys. 

For Scully, walking into the house was like stepping back in 
time.  The furniture was the same (she had left most of it 
behind instead of paying to move it across the country), as were 
most of the pictures on the walls.  The fish tank gurgled in the 
living room, and the mantle was still covered with family 
pictures.  The photos of the Scully clan had traveled to San 
Francisco, but here there remained several snapshots of William, 
the one professional portrait of the three of them that was 
taken on their first Christmas together--and the wedding picture 
that she had intentionally left behind.  But this place was no 
longer her home.  It felt more like a museum of her past, 
curated by a man who still hadn't found a way to move on. 

Completing her perusal of the photo gallery, Scully turned back 
to find Mulder in the doorway, watching her.  There were so many 
emotions etched on his face, but he remained silent, waiting for 
her to speak first. 

The silence stretched on, once again becoming uncomfortable.  It 
was time for her to make her escape, except that Mulder was 
blocking the way.  "I really should get going.  I don't want to 
miss my flight." 

"Of course."  He moved slightly to the side, letting her pass by 
him to the entryway, but still blocking the space enough that 
she had to squeeze past him, brushing him as she went by. 

As she stepped away from him toward the door, Mulder reached out 
and gently but firmly grabbed her arm.  Scully stopped and 
slowly turned to face him.  With a slight tug, he pulled her 
toward him, and she fell naturally into his embrace.  Besides 
holding hands in the hospital, it was the first time they had 
really touched each other in over a year.  Not a word was spoken 
for several minutes, but both held on tight, not wanting to let 
go again. 

Finally, Scully released her grasp and started to pull away.  
She only moved back a step as Mulder still held her loosely in 
his arms, and they studied each other's faces.  "I should go."  
She knew she sounded redundant, but at the moment she found 
herself too tongue-tied to say anything more original. 

As Mulder let go, his right hand came up to her face to brush 
back an imaginary errant strand of hair.  It was a gesture so 
familiar to both of them, and so habitual for Mulder that he 
didn't even realize he was doing it until he registered the 
sensation of his thumb brushing against her soft skin.  Scully 
involuntarily closed her eyes and sighed at the gesture, flooded 
with memories of happier times. 

"Can I call you?" 

As she opened her eyes at his quiet request, a gentle smile 
graced her lips.  "Yeah, I'd like that." 

With that, Scully turned and left.  Mulder remained in the 
doorway until her car rounded the corner and was out of sight 
before he finally turned and went back into the house.


******
Act II
******

Office of Dr. Bryan Murphy
May 18, 2006
10:32 am

Shifting around in the plush waiting room chair, Mulder tried to 
force away his nervousness.  This was his third visit with Dr. 
Murphy in as many weeks, and so far the first two sessions had 
gone well.  He was grateful for this fact since his options were 
limited--not many psychiatrists would be able to openly listen 
to stories about alien abduction without diagnosing the patient 
as schizophrenic, or worse, having him fitted for a 
straitjacket.  This doctor had been recommended by Dr. Heitz-
Werber, and so far the pairing had proved to be a successful 
one. 

"Mr. Mulder?  Dr. Murphy will see you now." 

At the receptionist's invitation, Mulder stood and made his way 
through the open door across the room.  The decor of the office 
managed to be soothing but not tacky, something which he found 
in good taste.  As a psychology grad himself, he found it 
difficult not to constantly analyze every tactic or question to 
discern what game the shrink was playing now, but he and Bryan 
had discussed this during the first session, so both were 
equally aware of the tendency and how it could interfere with 
their progress. 

Thankfully, the doctor had introduced himself by his first name 
and seemed comfortable being addressed in this manner by his 
patient.  Mulder found this incredibly helpful since the 
psychiatrist was at least ten years his junior, another 
potential obstacle to their relationship.  However, Mulder was a 
willing patient and highly motivated: he wanted to get his job 
and his wife back, and slaying his demons was the key to both. 

The doctor's office was empty when Mulder entered, but he heard 
the door softly close behind him, indicating the doctor's 
arrival, as he was settling into his chair. 

"So, Mulder, how's life back on the wagon this week?" 

Much to his relief, the first name basis only extended in one 
direction; he had explained the preference for his surname, and 
Bryan had respected that. 

"Oh, you know, boring as usual.  I have nothing to keep me 
occupied all day besides talk shows.  I tell you, watching those 
things makes me feel healthy.  At least I'm not concerned that I 
might be the father of my twelve-year-old sister's baby.  Now, 
those people have problems." 

Three weeks after his release from the hospital, Mulder was 
still on medical leave.  It would be at least another week 
before he could meet with Skinner to discuss the possibility of 
his reinstatement.  In the meantime, inactivity was driving the 
lifelong workaholic nuts, despite the distractions that the 
Gunmen tried to throw his way every now and then. 

Bryan smiled in sympathy with his quip as he settled into the 
chair opposite Mulder and opened his file. 

"Any cravings this week?" 

"I already learned from my sponsor that answering 'no' to that 
question is only a sign of denial and will get me nowhere, so 
the answer is 'yes.'  There are always cravings, but none so 
serious to cause me a relapse yet." 

"And how are the AA meetings going?" 

"I think I've settled into them a bit better.  I don't feel like 
as much of an outsider as I did at first.  Now, mind you, I 
still keep my mouth shut about my tendency to chase after little 
green men, but otherwise, I feel a little more comfortable in 
sharing my problems." 

"I imagine they've asked you to do a lot of soul searching about 
the source of your alcoholism.  What would you consider to be 
the main cause?" 

Mulder shifted around in his seat before answering the question.  
"Well, I don't think there's much mystery in that one--it was my 
son's murder."  The previous week's session had included a 
lengthy discussion of this topic, and he wasn't sure how ready 
he was to launch into it again. 

"Yes, but why alcohol?  You could have responded to this tragedy 
in any number of ways.  Why did you choose drinking?" 

"Well, I suppose it had something to do with my father.  It was 
his favorite means of coping, especially after my sister's 
abduction.  Before, when Samantha and I were younger, Dad would 
always retreat to his study and have a drink after dinner.  But 
after, he had a glass in his hand almost all the time.  He 
wasn't a violent drunk, but more of a sullen one.  He would 
drink to withdraw.  That was the model I grew up with.  I guess 
maybe I chose to deal with my problems in the same way." 

"Tell me more about your father.  What was your relationship 
with him like?" 

"Bill Mulder was a hard man to get to know.  He was gone a lot 
because of his job with the State Department, but when I was 
young, Mom always ingrained in us that Dad had an important job, 
so I was really proud of him.  I guess I kind of idolized him 
like most kids do at that age.  We tried to do some father-son 
bonding sometimes, like when we joined the Indian Guides one 
summer.  But, we never really established a rapport with one 
another.  After Samantha was gone, we only grew further apart.  
Every time he would look at me, I always felt like there was 
this accusation behind his eyes, like he blamed me that she was 
gone, because I didn't protect her.  Knowing what I know now, 
that he knew more about her disappearance than I realized at the 
time, I think maybe he expected me to live up to higher 
expectations because I was the one that was chosen to stay 
behind.  I'm not sure I ever really became the man that he 
wanted me to be." 

Mulder paused for a moment and then huffed out a bitter laugh.  
"You know, when I first found out that Scully was pregnant, I 
dreaded that I would turn out to be the kind of father that my 
own dad was, too absorbed in his work to really be there for his 
kids.  She always told me that I wasn't like him, that I 
wouldn't turn out to be like him.   But in the end, I became my 
father after all--I became the kind of husband that he was." 

"What do you mean by that?  What kind of husband was he?" 

"A failure.  He turned to alcohol and withdrew from the family 
when his wife needed his support the most.  In the end, she had 
no choice but to leave him." 

"Is that what you feel happened with your own marriage?  That 
you pulled away and left your wife with no choice but to leave?" 

Mulder stared at his hands for a moment, nervously picking at a 
hangnail, before answering.  "I know that I was a failure, that 
I failed her by turning to the alcohol instead of being there 
for her when she needed me.  She left because she couldn't stand 
living with me anymore.  The thing is, I guess I couldn't really 
stand to live with myself either." 

"Why not?  What was it about yourself that you didn't like?" 

"That I couldn't protect my family.  I'm supposed to be a 
federal officer, someone that lives to protect and to serve the 
public, but I couldn't even protect my own family.  How can I 
guarantee other parents that their children will come home 
safely when I couldn't bring home my own son?  Or my sister.  Or 
Scully.  They were all taken from me, and I couldn't do a damn 
thing to protect any of them.  All I could do was sit by and 
watch while they were abducted, and I couldn't bring any of them 
home." 

"Do you think you are experiencing survivor's guilt?" 

"What?"  Mulder genuinely hadn't thought of himself this way 
before and was surprised by the question. 

"I mean, you were always the one who was left behind.  Am I 
right in thinking that you willingly would've taken any of their 
places?" 

"Of course.  I would've given myself up in a heartbeat--I 
would've done anything if it meant that they wouldn't have to be 
taken." 

"And yet, you were never given that option.  So, you survived 
while they suffered.  And there was nothing you could do about 
it.  Do you think the drinking was a way of punishing yourself 
for that?" 

"I suppose.  But I think it was more a way of just numbing the 
pain." 

"So, you said that you felt like a failure for not being able to 
protect your loved ones, and that's the person you were running 
away from.  What about your wife?  Do you think she felt the 
same way about you?" 

"Scully?  No.  She was always my biggest supporter.  She was 
always trying to tell me that it wasn't my fault, that none of 
it was my fault.  I wanted to believe her, but I just didn't 
feel it was true.  I don't think she left because she thought I 
was a failure; I think she just got tired of me seeing myself 
that way.  You know, they say love is blind, and I think that 
was part of the problem.  I think she loved me too much to see 
me for who I really was."

*****
*****

Mulder Residence
May 19, 2006
8:59 pm

It was Friday, and Mulder had spent another restless day at 
home.  But, this evening was different than the rest of the 
week.  He had been looking forward to it for the last seven 
days.  Tonight, he was going to call Scully. 

Two weeks ago, he had finally gotten up the nerve to phone her.  
He was rather nervous about it and had picked up the receiver 
several times before committing himself to dialing her number.  
Even though she had agreed that he could call her, he wasn't 
really sure if she wanted to hear from him and was afraid of her 
rejection.  But, the call had gone well, very well in fact, and 
so he decided to try it again the next week.  Now, after two 
successful phone conversations, he had started to think of 
Friday nights as their "phone date" and was practically counting 
down the days and minutes until he could call her again. 

At 9:02, he pounced.  Taking into account the time difference, 
and knowing how Scully liked to leave work promptly by 5:00 to 
start off her weekends, he figured that he had allowed enough 
time for her to get home and maybe even eat something before her 
phone rang.  He supposed that he should wait a little longer to 
give her adequate time for dinner first, but he just couldn't 
wait anymore. 

On the fourth ring, the phone picked up and he heard her voice 
on the other end--but his initial enthusiasm quickly became 
disappointment as he recognized the voice as the recording on 
her answering machine. 

"Hello, this is Dana Scully.  I'm not home right now, but if you 
leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can." 

*Beep*

"Uh, hi Scully.  It's me.  Mulder.  Um, I guess you're not home 
right now.  I just wanted to say hi, see how your week went, 
that kind of thing.  I'll be up for a while, so call me when you 
get home, if you want.  So, I guess maybe I'll talk to you 
later.  Bye." 

Mulder hung up the phone.  He sincerely hoped that he didn't 
sound as stupid as he thought he did in that message.  Despite 
the number of years they had known each other, it was like they 
were starting things over at the beginning, and he felt just as 
nervous as a teenager trying to ask out the girl he had a crush 
on.  And it made him feel just as giddy when he heard her voice 
on the other end of the phone suggesting that the girl liked him 
right back. 

* * *
9:35 pm

Flipping through the rotation of channels for the third time in 
five minutes, Mulder glanced at the clock again.  Scully hadn't 
called back yet.  Maybe she left work a little late and got 
stuck in traffic, he thought.  Maybe she walked in the door just 
after he called and was waiting until after she ate her dinner 
to call him back.  He could wait that long. 

Or, maybe he couldn't.  Tossing aside the remote, he swiftly 
walked across the room and hit redial. 

Four rings.  Answering machine.  Apparently, she still wasn't 
home. 

* * *
10:02 pm

By now it was after 7:00 in California, which would have left 
ample time to get home from work.  Mulder decided it was worth 
trying again. 

Answering machine. 

He could always wait and call her tomorrow, but he really wanted 
to talk to her tonight, and now that he had the idea stuck in 
his head, he just couldn't let go of it. 

Where could she be?  Should he be worried?  Surely not.  He 
thought briefly about trying to get a hold of someone at her 
office to track her down but then thought better of it.  Scully 
was no longer a field agent but a pathologist who worked regular 
hours, so she wouldn't be out interviewing a suspect or checking 
out a dangerous location. 

Where would she be at 7:00 on a Friday night? 

Mulder felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.  She 
wouldn't be on a date, would she?  Maybe that guy she had gone 
out with had called her back and asked for a second chance.  He 
was probably a nice guy with a good job and bright smile.  He 
could probably give her a good home; maybe he even had kids that 
she could love and nurture.  Scully was a great mother.  She 
deserved to be a mother.  She deserved all the happiness she 
could find. 

She deserved better than himself.  If he really loved her, he 
shouldn't stand in her way to be with someone else who could 
give her the home life that he never could.  It had been selfish 
of him to ask her to take him back.  Maybe she was just 
appeasing him until he got his job back, and then she would try 
to let him down easy and explain to him that they could never be 
together again. 

God, he could really use a drink right now. 

And what would it hurt?  If she wasn't going to take him back, 
then he couldn't think of a good enough reason to stay sober.  
If she rejected him, it would be too painful.  A good, stiff 
drink could really take the edge off of that pain. 

* * *
12:14 am

Stumbling his way through the front door, Mulder nearly 
collapsed on the other side as it latched behind him.  He could 
still feel the sweat running down his back, and his body ached.  
The dryness in his throat reminded him that he was dehydrated, 
so he slowly made his way toward the kitchen. 

He knew that by now he should have recognized his limits and 
stopped before he did his body any serious damage, but he had 
always been one to throw himself into what he did 110 percent.  
Tomorrow morning would serve as a painful reminder of why he 
shouldn't do this to himself anymore. 

Mulder dropped the basketball on the floor as he reached into 
the cupboard for a glass.  A pain in his knee brought the 
embarrassing recollection that he was by far the oldest person 
on the court that night.  He had held his own and made some nice 
blocks for his team, but he wasn't as young as he used to be, 
nor was he in his best shape.  The alcoholism had taken its toll 
on his body in more ways than one.  It would take him a while to 
get back into top condition. 

After guzzling the glass of water, Mulder refilled it before 
walking back toward the hallway.  He was almost afraid to look 
at the answering machine in case there was no message.  His 
disappointment earlier in the evening had almost led to 
disaster--in fact, it was the worst temptation he had felt since 
leaving the hospital--but he had been quite proud of himself for 
deciding to head for the Y instead of the bar and punishing his 
body in an entirely different way.  If he didn't hear back from 
Scully tonight, or if he got bad news from her, he was afraid 
that it might undo all of his efforts. 

The answering machine was indeed blinking.  There was one 
message.  Bracing himself for the worst, he hit the play button. 

"Hi, Mulder, it's me.  I'm sorry I missed your call earlier.  I 
had to stay at work late to do an autopsy.  It looks like we 
might have a serial killer on our hands, and we're working 
against the clock before he finds his next victim."  There was a 
pause on the tape, and he thought that her message was finished 
or she had been cut off, until he heard her continue, although 
her voice sounded more strained.  "They're young boys, the 
victims.  And he's not just assaulting them, he's....  My God, 
Mulder, it's awful."  There was a distinctive sniffle.  "Anyway, 
um, just call me when you get in tonight.  I'd really like to 
hear from you." 

Without another thought, he reached for the phone and dialed her 
number.  As he listened to the phone ring three times before she 
answered, he couldn't help but feel bad about the way he had 
acted earlier.  Here she had been working late, on a difficult 
case, and all he could think was that she was out enjoying 
herself with someone else.  God, he could be a selfish bastard 
sometimes.  And then he had left and wasn't there when she 
called him back....  But he was here now, and she needed him. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Scully, it's me." 

Her response was a contented sigh: "Mulder."       

*****
*****

Office of Walter Skinner
May 29, 2006
9:31 am

Mulder sat fidgeting on the sofa in Skinner's waiting room.  His 
fingers absently toyed with the badge hanging from his lapel.  
Much to his embarrassment (and he couldn't help but think, to 
everyone else's amusement), he had been forced to wear a 
visitor's badge since his badge and weapon, including his Hoover 
ID, had been reclaimed by OPR until he was officially 
reinstated.  If this morning's meeting with Skinner went well, 
hopefully that would happen soon. 

Full of nervous energy, Mulder almost leapt out of his seat when 
the door to the inner office suddenly opened and the Deputy 
Director himself appeared in the doorway, gesturing for his 
suspended agent to come in.  The latter quickly arose and 
followed him in.  Both remained silent until they were seated. 

"You look well, Mulder.  How are you feeling these days?" 

Mulder smiled slightly at his boss's euphemistic way of asking 
him if he was still on the wagon.  "Some days are better than 
others, but I'm clean.  I've been dutifully attending both AA 
and counseling sessions for the past month, as required.  
Frankly, sir, there isn't much else for me to do right now, and 
I'm starting to go a little stir crazy without the work.  I 
don't think I'll truly start to feel healthy again until I can 
get back into a regular schedule." 

The D.D. leaned back in his chair to consider Mulder's response.  
"So, do you think that you're cured?" 

Mulder took a moment to answer, wondering if this was a trick 
question, of a sort.  However, he had been to enough AA meetings 
to know that there was no simple yes or no response to this 
question.  "Alcoholics are never really cured.  We either have a 
handle on the drinking, or we don't.  But we'll always be 
alcoholics." 

Apparently pleased that he didn't hear a ready "yes," Skinner 
leaned forward again onto his desk.  "So do you?"  He quickly 
clarified his inquiry.  "Feel like you have a handle on it?" 

"I haven't touched a drink since I left the hospital.  I don't 
know what better proof to offer than that.  I won't deny that 
there have been cravings, but I feel like I've found ways to 
deal with them, and I have accountability now.  It would be 
ridiculous to promise that I'll never relapse, but I certainly 
don't see that happening anytime soon.  So, yes, I do feel like 
I have a handle on it." 

"Good.  I'm glad to hear that."  Removing his glasses and 
rubbing his eyes, Skinner stood up and moved around the desk to 
perch on the corner, moving from his official stance to a more 
friendly one.  "Mulder, I believe that you do have a grip on the 
drinking, but I want you to understand that it will be much more 
difficult to convince OPR.  They'll want sworn affidavits from 
the AA leader and your sponsor that you've been attending the 
meetings, and they'll ask your psychiatrist for a recommendation 
on your progress and your fitness for duty.  I wouldn't be 
surprised if they'd also require you to pass a psych evaluation 
by an FBI psychologist.  Even if they do reinstate you, it may 
only be probationary for a while, leading to immediate dismissal 
if you mess up again.  Chances are that they'll grill you in the 
meeting, try to bait you and get you to lose your temper or slip 
up somehow, but if you keep a cool head and tell them what 
you've just told me, everything should go fine.  I'll pass along 
my recommendation for reinstatement to the committee, and 
hopefully by the beginning of next week we'll have you back at 
work." 

"Thank you, sir."  Mulder looked down at the hands in his lap 
while his superior returned to his chair.  "There's one more 
thing I'm wondering about." 

"What's that?" 

Looking up again, Mulder made eye contact with Skinner.  "What 
job will I be returning to?" 

Skinner sighed and shifted.  He had anticipated this issue but 
wasn't yet sure how to answer it.  The X-Files had been closed 
down about 5 years ago, shortly after William was born.  Scully 
had returned to teaching at Quantico after her pregnancy leave, 
and the Bureau had refused to assign Mulder another partner 
because of budget cuts (and, of course, their disdain for the 
X-Files division).  After an incident on a case in Milwaukee, 
where Mulder was kidnapped by a suspect and missing for almost 
two days, both Mulder and his new wife had decided that he 
needed a position that would keep him closer to home, and out of 
trouble, now that he had no one to watch his back. 

With Skinner's help, the former profiler had earned a desk job 
in the BSU.  Since "Spooky" was still a living legend in that 
office for his unrivaled talent, and the FBI seemed happy to 
offer him almost any position if it meant pulling him from the 
X-Files, the new position was essentially a promotion and placed 
several young profilers under his guidance.  By all appearances, 
he had flourished in his new role--that is, until his son's 
death.  After this, he had retained his position in title only 
while most of his responsibilities were reassigned until he 
could again prove himself capable of his job. 

Shortly after the divorce, he had come to Skinner, who had in 
the meantime earned a promotion himself, with a request to 
reopen the X-Files.  Hoping that restoring Mulder to his earlier 
passion would reinvigorate him, Skinner had pulled some strings 
and agreed to take personal responsibility for Mulder in order 
to have his request granted.  For the first month or two, it 
seemed like this move had indeed done the man some good, but it 
soon became apparent that his downward spiral was continuing, 
until he finally hit rock bottom. 

But, if Mulder was now given back his job, would OPR truly be 
willing to send him back to the X-Files?  If not, where would 
they assign him--and how long or well would he be able to 
tolerate another position? 

At Skinner's protracted silence to his inquiry, the agent 
continued.  "Actually, sir, I wasn't so concerned about my 
return to the X-Files."  This earned him Skinner's full 
attention. "I was hoping that whatever my assignment, it might 
hold the possibility of a transfer to San Francisco in the near 
future." 

Not wanting to trespass into personal territory, Skinner 
hesitantly responded.  "I didn't realize the two of you had 
worked things out." 

"Well, we haven't exactly.  But Scully told me that if I got 
sober, then maybe we could give it another shot."  Mulder paused 
for a moment and averted his gaze before quietly resuming.  "I 
think you know how much I love her.  She's the only reason I was 
willing to commit myself to getting clean instead of going home 
from the hospital and ending my sorry life."  He looked back up 
at Skinner.  "I guess I have you to thank for that.  If you 
hadn't called her, I probably wouldn't be sitting here right 
now." 

The melancholy turn to the conversation made Skinner somewhat 
uncomfortable, and uncertain whether he had actually put Scully 
in a difficult situation that she didn't want.  "Have you talked 
to her about moving out there?" 

"No, not yet.  I'm not asking for the transfer right now.  I 
just want to know that it's a possibility, in case things work 
out." 

Not wanting to ask the next question, Skinner knew that 
responsibly, he must, especially since it was an issue that 
could come up in the psych evaluation.  "And what happens if 
things don't work out?" 

"Then I guess that I find another reason to carry on."      


*******
Act III
*******

Dana Scully's Residence
June 9, 2006
7:01 pm

Scully had begun to look forward to the weekly calls from 
her...well, from Mulder.  She had missed his company in the past 
year even more than she had realized, and hearing his voice 
again on a regular basis brought back memories of happier times. 

Hurrying to finish putting away dinner by 7, she sat down on the 
couch just as the phone rang.  She smiled to herself; just like 
clockwork.  Apparently Mulder looked forward to their weekly 
calls just as much as she did. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Scully, you'll never guess what I did today." 

The childlike excitement in his voice was obvious, and she 
guessed that it had taken him a great deal of restraint to wait 
until their regularly scheduled time to call her and tell her 
about this. 

"You spotted Elvis on the White House lawn?" 

He responded with mock exasperation.  "No, Scully, I already 
explained to you that Elvis is vacationing in Bermuda.  There's 
no way he would be caught dead in the U.S. this time of year." 

Choosing to ignore his pun, she turned the conversation back to 
the topic that apparently had him so excited.  "Okay, I give.  
What did you do today?" 

"I went to work." 

There was a pause on Scully's end.  "'Work' work?  You mean, 
like 'FBI' work?" 

"Yeah, Scully, they even gave me a badge and everything." 

She chuckled at his intentionally childish intonation before 
turning serious again.  "So, they reinstated you.  I'm proud of 
you, Mulder.  Really.  You worked hard to get here, and it's 
finally paying off." 

"Well, maybe you should withhold your praise until you hear what 
they have me doing." 

"Oh no, Mulder, tell me you're not a janitor." 

He laughed at her jibe.  "No, but close.  I'm back on anti-
terrorism.  Thankfully they haven't sent me after any manure 
yet, but it's basically the same thing.  I had the distinct 
privilege of spending my day sifting through people's trash." 

"You're not serious." 

"Yeah, actually, I am.  The only thing distinguishing me from 
the three young lads who couldn't possibly be old enough to have 
graduated from high school, let alone the Academy, was that I 
was technically designated as their supervisor.  But that only 
meant I had to do all the real work as I trained them in the 
fine art of sifting refuse." 

"Mulder, I'm so sorry.  Oh, God--you're not working for Kersh 
again, are you?" 

"No, I still report to Skinner as my official babysitter.  
Apparently no one else wants me.  But, it doesn't matter, 
really.  There are more important things in my life right now 
than the job." 

There was an awkward silence as Scully mulled over these words.  
Apprehension battled with anticipation as she began to consider 
what this could mean for the two of them. 

Mulder cleared his throat and then continued, in a feeble 
attempt to sound nonchalant.  "So, Scully, I was thinking that 
maybe I'd take a trip out to California next weekend.  I could 
fly out after work on Friday afternoon and stick around until 
Sunday morning.  I haven't been to San Francisco in years.  You 
could show me around a bit." 

Silence. 

"Well, it was a just a thought.  I haven't actually bought the 
tickets yet, so I wouldn't have to--"

"No, Mulder, I'd like that." 

"Are you sure?  It doesn't have to be next weekend.  I could 
wait for a couple more weeks, if that would be better." 

"No, next week is fine.  I don't have any other plans." 

"Okay, then...I guess I'll get the tickets." 

"Okay." 

Pause. 

"Scully?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" 

"Of course I am, it's just that....  I know I shouldn't be, but 
I guess I'm just nervous.  I mean, I know it sounds silly, but I 
feel like I just agreed to go to the prom with you.  This is 
what I wanted, but I'm not sure how it's going to turn out.  And 
there's so much at stake." 

"I know.  I'm nervous, too.  But this is important to me.  I 
want to give our relationship another try, and we can't do that 
from 3000 miles away.  I want to see the life you've built for 
yourself there, so I can get to know you all over again." 

"That means a lot to me, that you want to do that." 

"Well, you mean a lot to me.  Besides, the Giants are playing 
the Orioles, and this may be my last chance to catch that series 
this year." 

Scully smiled.  That was Mulder, always turning a tender moment 
into a joke.  But it was part of who he was, and she loved him 
for it. 

*****
*****

SBC Park, San Francisco
June 17, 2006
1:25 pm

"You know, Mulder, I thought you were only joking about the 
baseball game." 

Mulder peeled his eyes away from the players warming up on the 
field below them and turned to Scully with a smile.  "I was, but 
it gave me an idea.  Do you realize we've never been to a ball 
game together?" 

He regretted the words as soon as they were out his mouth.  She 
turned away and his smile faded.  He knew she was reliving the 
same memory that he was.  Only a couple of months before William 
had disappeared, Mulder had taken his son to an Orioles game.  
Scully was occupied with a case that weekend and couldn't join 
them, and she insisted that the boy was too young for such a 
trip.  It was true that he couldn't fully understand the rules 
of the game and spent more time watching the people around him 
than the field, but he had been caught up in the excitement of 
it all and had had a wonderful time, right up until the eighth 
inning when he climbed into his father's lap and promptly fell 
asleep.  But Mulder hadn't minded that a bit. 

This melancholy moment was the first time all weekend that the 
reconciling spouses had allowed the ghosts of the past to catch 
up with them.  Mulder had gotten off of work early on Friday to 
fly into San Francisco in time for dinner.  Scully picked him up 
at the airport and drove him to a favorite restaurant of hers.  
They spent the evening in pleasant conversation, catching up on 
each other's week, and even stayed at the eatery long enough for 
him to convince her to order dessert and coffee.  Afterward, he 
insisted on taking a cab to the hotel where he had made 
reservations for himself rather than letting her drive him.  She 
was grateful that he had spared her the awkwardness of whether 
or not to invite him back to her place, which she communicated 
with a smile rather than words.  He made plans to meet her for 
lunch the next day and then kissed the back of her hand as his 
taxi arrived.  With a contented smile, she stood there and 
watched it depart before returning to her own car and driving 
home. 

Now, they both watched the field as the players stopped warming 
up and prepared for the first inning, but neither was really 
paying attention to the activity below. 

If Mulder had learned anything over the previous month, it was 
that he could no longer run away from the past.  He had to face 
it head on if he was ever to move on with his life.

"Scully, we shouldn't be afraid to remember the good times, even 
if it hurts a little.  It's the only way to keep him alive." 

She had put on her sunglasses and was looking away from him, so 
he couldn't read her expression.  After a moment she replied 
softly, "Tell me." 

Although she didn't elaborate, he knew what she was asking.  
Stretching out his arm across the back of her seat, he looked 
out across the stadium and let his mind wander back to that day 
in Baltimore. 

"I think his favorite part was the peanuts.  He was fascinated 
as he watched me crack open the shells.  He didn't actually want 
to eat them--I gave him one and he just made this face and spit 
it out."  He chuckled as his mind replayed the image.  "He just 
wanted to be able to do it himself.  He kept trying to pop one 
open, but his fingers just weren't strong enough.  Then he 
ingeniously discovered that it was much more effective to stomp 
on them.  When he finally got the first one open, he was so 
excited that he started jumping up and down.  Right at the same 
time, the batter hit a double and everyone around us stood up 
and started cheering.  I think Will thought they were all 
cheering for him.  I know I was." 

As Mulder pulled out of the memory and came back to himself, he 
noticed for the first time the tears streaking down his face, in 
spite of his smile.  When he finished the story, Scully silently 
leaned against him, and he moved the arm draped behind her to 
wrap around her shoulder and pull her closer.  While the crowd 
around them started cheering at the play on the field, the two 
parents sat there quietly weeping for a little boy who would 
never get to dream about growing up to be a baseball player. 

* * *

They stayed for the entire game, although neither of them could 
recount much of it.  Instead, they had spent the majority of the 
afternoon sharing happy memories, both of their son and of days 
long before.  It had been a catharsis and a breakthrough for 
them; although neither spoke it, both realized that this was the 
first time since their son's death that they had spent time 
together retelling the good times instead of dwelling on the 
tragedy.  For the first time, they were beginning to heal--
together. 

After the game, they spent the rest of the afternoon and evening 
exploring the city.  They climbed up Telegraph Hill to walk off 
their hot dogs and take in the view.  They wandered along the 
wharf and watched sea lions sunbathing in the waning afternoon 
light before looking for a good seafood restaurant for dinner.  
Having spent the day on public transportation to avoid the 
parking headaches, after the meal they hailed a cab, and Scully 
offered her address to the driver without hesitation.  Mulder 
didn't say anything, but she looked over and could see the 
question in his eyes. 

"Well, you can't come all the way across the country and not 
even see where I live, can you?" 

He smiled warmly at her in response and reached for her hand as 
he looked out the window and watched the city around them 
transition from day to night. 

Scully was renting a cozy townhouse in a decent neighborhood.  
Being in one of the priciest cities in the country, she couldn't 
afford much square footage, although it was more than she could 
have afforded before the divorce.  She had relinquished 
possession of the house and the furniture, wanting to make a 
clean break, and Mulder had offered more than enough money to 
compensate for what she had given up.  Her lawyer had even noted 
that it was one of the most amicable divorce settlements he had 
ever seen, despite the fact that the two parties refused to 
speak to one another directly. 

The cab pulled to a stop in front of the door and she leaned up 
to pay the fare as Mulder disembarked and looked around the 
neighborhood.  It was relatively quiet, with the ambient sounds 
of kids playing down the street and the smell of a nearby 
barbecue wafting through the air.  As the cab pulled away and 
Scully walked toward the front door, he turned to follow her 
inside. 

The furniture was new to him, but there were plenty of familiar 
sights and smells.  He recognized immediately the lingering 
scent of apples and cinnamon from one of her favorite candles, 
and family pictures dotted the walls on all sides.  There were 
relatively few pictures of William, and none of herself, outside 
of one Scully family portrait from her teenage years.  He also 
noted there were no pictures of him, and he tried to hide his 
disappointment at this--until he spotted a familiar picture on 
the corner of her desk that sat in front of the bay window.  It 
was a snapshot of a brown-haired boy leaning against a tree, and 
a brown-haired girl with braids standing next to him, nearly a 
head shorter.  It was a picture of him and Samantha. 

Scully emerged from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee in hand 
to see him regarding the framed portrait.  As he heard her 
enter, he turned and reached for the mug that she offered him. 

"I didn't realize you had a copy of that picture." 

Scully moved to sit on the couch and he joined her.  "I didn't 
either until a couple of months ago when I was going through a 
box I hadn't unpacked yet.  Somehow it just didn't seem right to 
keep it packed away."  She said no more on the subject but 
turned to sip from her coffee. 

"So, um, I had a good time this weekend." 

She turned to look at him and gave him a coy smile.  "So did I.  
I'm glad you came." 

"Then you wouldn't mind if we did this again sometime?" 

"Not at all.  I'd look forward to it." 

They realized they were now grinning inanely at each other until 
the moment was broken as they both returned to their coffee. 

"Uh, Scully, there's one thing we haven't talked about yet, and 
I'm not really sure how to say this."  She turned to him with a 
furrowed brow, not quite sure where he was headed.  "I know that 
we're not exactly picking up where we left off--which is a good 
thing, considering where we left off--but what I want to know 
is...how far back are we going, exactly?" 

Scully continued to regard him with a puzzled look until he 
clarified.  "I mean, are we a married couple, trying to pick up 
the pieces and rebuild, or are we starting all over from 
scratch?" 

Fighting the smile that was playing at her lips as she caught 
his gist, she replied, "Are you asking me if this was a first 
date?" 

He looked at her sheepishly, with a boyish charm that she could 
never resist.  "Yeah, I guess you could put it that way." 

She smiled back at him and then looked contemplatively into her 
mug.  "I honestly don't know, Mulder.  I don't know how far back 
we should go.  I know we can't just ignore the problems that we 
had before.  We can't just start over with a clean slate.  But 
maybe it wouldn't hurt if we got to know each other again.  Not 
as partners or as parents, but just as two people in love." 

As she finished talking, she turned her head sideways to look at 
him.  He tilted his head to the same angle and lifted a hand to 
sweep back the hair that was falling forward over her face.  "I 
do, you know.  Love you.  Never doubt that." 

Placing her hand over his own that was now resting against her 
cheek, Scully closed her eyes and thought to herself, *I just 
hope that's enough.* 


******
Act IV
******

Dana Scully's Office
July 16, 2006
3:05 pm

Scully fingered the business card on the desk in front of her as 
she listened to the phone ring.  On the third ring, a 
receptionist answered, and after a long wait on hold, her call 
was finally put through. 

"Dana, this is a pleasant surprise.  I wasn't sure if I would 
hear from you again." 

"Hi, Roger.  I'm afraid this is more of a business than a social 
call, although it is a personal matter." 

"Sure thing.  What can I do for you?" 

She hesitated for a moment.  She had been debating all day 
whether this was the right person to call, but the bottom line 
was that he was the only psychologist she knew in San Francisco. 

"I was wondering if you could recommend a good marriage 
counselor." 

"Ahh.  Am I to take it then that you and the ex-husband decided 
to work things out?" 

Not quite sure how to respond to that, she just squeaked out a 
"Yeah." 

He sensed her discomfort and realized she felt awkward about 
making this call.  "Dana, I can't say I'm not disappointed about 
not being able to ask you out again, but I'm genuinely happy 
that you two are trying to work things out.  I see far too many 
broken relationships in this line of work.  I'm kind of a 
romantic at heart, so I'm always rooting for a happy ending." 

"Roger, I really am sorry about how that evening turned out.  I 
had no idea that--"

"Quit apologizing.  Are you sorry about getting back together 
with him?" 

"No, I'm not." 

"Then there's nothing left to apologize for.  All is forgiven.  
Now, can we still be friends?" 

Scully smiled and realized again why this man made such a good 
child psychologist with his easy manner and sharp wit.  "I don't 
know.  I think I'm all booked up with friends right now, so I'll 
have to wait and see if someone cancels and then I can fit you 
into an open spot." 

Roger mock groaned.  "Oh, God, not doctor humor.  On second 
thought, I don't think I want you to fit me in considering what 
it takes to end up on your table."  They both chuckled for a 
moment before the conversation turned serious again.  "Just 
promise me one thing, Dana." 

"What?" she replied hesitantly. 

"That you'll let me meet him someday." 

She smiled in relief at his request.  "I think I can arrange 
that." 

"So, I take it you're looking for someone local?" 

"Yeah.  Mulder's been coming out here on weekends every couple 
of weeks, and he's even brought up the possibility of 
transferring here, although we haven't really made plans yet.  I 
was hoping we might be able to find a counselor that could meet 
with us on weekends or late on a Friday to accommodate our 
schedule.  But it also needs to be someone we're both at ease 
with.  Mulder has a degree in psychology, so it's not always 
easy for him to establish a good rapport with a counselor who 
doesn't respect him as an equal in the field." 

"I see.  Well, I have a couple of recommendations for you.  I'll 
transfer you back to my receptionist so she can give you the 
phone numbers." 

"Thanks, Roger.  I really appreciate it." 

"No problem, Dana.  I hope things work out for you.  And don't 
be a stranger." 

*****
*****

Office of Janice Walters
July 27, 2006
6:05 pm

Glancing at her watch again, Scully was beginning to get 
nervous.  The receptionist was already gone for the evening, and 
Dr. Walters' door was open in invitation for them when they were 
ready, but Scully chose to wait in the outer office so that she 
and Mulder could enter the room together.  If he showed up, that 
was. 

This was their first joint appointment with the marriage 
counselor, who had graciously agreed to stay late on Friday 
afternoon to meet with them.  Because they had to schedule such 
a late hour, they had compromised on a half hour session rather 
than a full hour.  But the clock was ticking, and Mulder was yet 
to appear.  His flight was supposed to arrive at 5, and the two 
of them had agreed to meet at the therapist's office so Scully 
wouldn't have to leave work early to pick him up. 

After talking on the phone with and dismissing another 
psychologist, Scully had made an appointment to meet briefly 
with Dr. Walters the previous week and had immediately felt 
quite comfortable with her.  The woman was in her mid to late 
fifties and had a very laid back persona, although her clothing 
and decor were utterly professional.  Having listened to 
Scully's short overview of the history of their relationship, 
the therapist explained that she had dealt both with couples in 
law enforcement and with parents who had lost their children, 
and the two women had ended the meeting agreeing to set up a 
time when Mulder could join them while he was next in town. 

Which should be right now, Scully thought uneasily.  Just as she 
was reaching for her cell phone to try calling him again, the 
front door swept open. 

"Sorry I'm late.  The flight was delayed, and I never thought we 
were going to make it through traffic.  I would've called you, 
but some idiot forgot to recharge his phone last night."  To 
punctuate his rushed greeting, Mulder leaned over and kissed her 
on the cheek and then reached for her hand.  "You ready?" 

With a tight smile and a nod of agreement, she turned and led 
him through the open door. 

"Dr. Walters?  I'd like you to meet my husband, Fox Mulder." 

As he extended his hand toward the woman who rose from her chair 
behind the desk, Mulder internally sighed in relief at Scully's 
introduction.  She had answered one crucial question for him--
they were going into this as husband and wife, rather than as 
some kind of pre-marital counseling.

"Mr. Mulder.  Nice to meet you.  I've been told not to call you 
Fox.  I guess we can deal with your identity crisis later." 

Mulder acknowledged her joke with a return smile, and she moved 
around her desk to a plush armchair while motioning the partners 
toward the loveseat opposite her.  He couldn't help but note the 
size of it and the tactic of such an arrangement--it left just 
enough space that two people could sit on it without touching, 
but the single seat required the pair to remain in close 
quarters with no physical barriers between them.  He wasn't 
quite sure what pose would be best, but as he watched Scully 
primly perch on the edge of the seat with perfect posture, he 
intentionally settled back into the cushions and extended his 
arm behind her.  With a gentle touch to her back, he saw her 
visibly relax and lean back into the cushions.  He also noted 
out of the corner of his eye that this display did not go 
unnoticed by the therapist. 

"So, Mulder, Dana has already told me a bit about the background 
of your relationship and your reasons for seeking counseling, 
but I'd like to hear you tell it from your own perspective.  Why 
are you here today?" 

At this, he leaned forward in his seat and propped his elbows on 
his knees, his hands folded before him.  "I'm sure she told you 
about what happened to our son, and maybe a little about how we 
both reacted to it.  I decided to deal with it by drowning my 
sorrows in alcohol, and as a result I destroyed what was left of 
my family.  I've given up the drinking now, and I'm seeing a 
counselor of my own to deal with the things that brought me to 
that point, but I'm here today because I want to heal my 
marriage."  He sat up and looked at Scully directly as he 
continued to address the doctor.  "I love my wife and I'd do 
anything to get her back." 

"Dana, how do you feel about this?" 

Although she chose to look at the doctor as she spoke, Scully 
reached over to Mulder's hand that was now resting on his knee 
and placed her own hand on top of it. 

"I think he's already come a long way, and I'm proud of him for 
that.  I appreciate how committed he is to this and how much 
he's gone out of his way to spend time on our relationship.  But 
I also think we have a difficult road ahead of us.  It's been 
easy enough over the last few months to gloss over the real 
problems and just have a good time together, but there were some 
things that went seriously wrong between us to bring us to the 
point where we could no longer live with each other.  And I 
don't think we should try living together again until we've 
addressed those problems." 

Upon this pronouncement, Scully risked a glance at Mulder.  
Although his face held disappointment, he squeezed her hand in 
acknowledgment.  She squeezed his hand in return before 
releasing it and clasping her hands in front of her, ready to 
get down to business. 

"Well, Dana, you obviously have thought about what some of these 
problems are.  Where do you think we should start today?" 

With her eyes riveted on her hands, she said quietly, "I need to 
know if he blames me for what happened to Will." 

"What?"  Mulder's voice was both wounded and incredulous.  "How 
could you even think that?" 

"Because I was the one watching him.  If I had been paying more 
attention, he never would have been taken." 

"Scully...." 

Her voice was stronger now, in competition with his.  "And 
because you never accepted the fact that I grieved differently 
than you.  Every time you accused me of not feeling his loss as 
deeply as you, I felt like you were telling me that I didn't 
love him as much as you did.  That maybe somehow I didn't really 
want him and I let him be taken." 

He sighed in exasperation and disbelief.  "I wasn't accusing you 
of not mourning him, just of not being willing to share that 
with me.  I never saw you cry.  Not once.  Even though you let 
me cry myself to sleep on your shoulder every night, I always 
cried alone."  He dropped the edge from his voice and turned 
toward her to speak more gently.  "I know how important it is 
for you to feel in control and not let other people see you as 
weak, but I thought things were different between us.  Why 
couldn't you let me see how much you were hurting?  Why did you 
feel you had to hide that from me?" 

"Because I was afraid," she said in a small voice, not willing 
to look directly at him.  Taking a deep breath to regain her 
strength, she continued.  "I was afraid that if I started 
crying, I wouldn't be able to stop.  The pain was too close to 
the surface, and if I let it out, it would consume me.  And I 
needed to be strong for you." 

"Maybe I needed you to be weak for me," he said softly, which 
caused her to raise her eyes to his in question.  "As 
chauvinistic as it sounds, sometimes I need you to be weak and 
vulnerable to make me feel like a real man.  If I'd felt like 
you really needed me, then I would have pulled myself together 
and been strong for you, and maybe I wouldn't have been such a 
blubbering idiot all the time.  In the end, I guess I thought 
that's why you left, because you didn't need me anymore.  I 
thought that...."  He brought himself up short and turned away.

"What?"  Her tone encouraged him to continue. 

"I thought that maybe you only married me because of the baby, 
and once he was gone, you didn't need me around anymore." 

She paused for a moment before replying.  "I guess I thought the 
same thing."  At his puzzled look, she elaborated.  "When you 
filed for divorce so quickly, I thought that you had only 
married me out of some act of chivalry because you'd gotten me 
knocked up and without that reason to stay together, you were 
eager to escape being tied down." 

His voice conveyed his pain.  "How can you not know after all 
this time that for years I had dreamed of spending my life with 
you?" 

"Then how could you give up that dream so easily?"  Her wrinkled 
brow expressed to him that she truly didn't understand his 
actions.

"Because I was falling into a black hole and I didn't want to 
drag you down with me." 

Scully turned her body toward his to make her point more 
emphatically.  "But that's what I signed on for.  That's what 
marriage is all about.  That's what our partnership had always 
been about.  We don't run away from the hard times, but we stick 
together and support each other through it." 

"Then why did you leave?"  It could have been taken as an 
accusation, but she knew that he didn't mean it that way. 

"Because I needed a chance to regroup.  I needed to catch my 
second wind so that I could take another run at it.  There were 
too many memories in that house, and I couldn't live with them 
anymore." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

Turning away from him again, she carefully intoned her voice so 
that he wouldn't take offense at her words as she approached a 
sensitive subject.  "You weren't exactly lucid most of the time.  
I felt like you were trying to carry the burden of grief for 
both of us, and maybe if I gave you some space, the burden 
wouldn't be so heavy.  I thought we needed some time apart."  
She turned toward him again, her eyes and voice now pleading 
with him to understand.  "Nothing else was working." 

"It sounds like the obstacle here is a lack of communication."  
Both partners were surprised by the voice from across the room 
as they had been so absorbed in their own conversation.  They 
shared a sheepish look as they both realized that it took a 
stranger to point out something that should have been so obvious 
to them. 

Scully surreptitiously swiped at the tears that were threatening 
to run down her face, and Mulder drew in a deep breath to regain 
his own composure.  He turned to her and said in a very somber 
tone, "I think I know what the real problem is." 

His seriousness scared her, which she couldn't hide from her 
voice.  "What?" 

"That team building seminar we blew off in Florida.  If only 
we'd built a tower of furniture, we never would've had these 
problems." 

In spite of herself, a genuine laugh escaped through Scully's 
lips, and with its release a couple of wayward tears ran down 
her face.  As Mulder's face broke out into a grin, she good-
naturedly bumped her shoulder against his in reprimand, and he 
extended his arm around her to draw her closer.  He was grateful 
to have broken the tension that had mounted, and it always 
melted his heart to hear her laugh. 

Smiling herself at the interaction between these two, Dr. 
Walters took advantage of the interlude to bring things to a 
close.  "Well, I think this has given you plenty to think about 
before next time: where the communication broke down between you 
and what changes you can make to avoid the same mistakes in the 
future." 

As she rose from her seat, her patients followed suit.  She took 
the moment to regard them carefully.  She really had done very 
little for this pair today.  They were much more open and more 
obviously in love than many of the couples she dealt with.  All 
they really needed was a conducive environment to talk and a few 
nudges in the right direction. 

Extending her hand to each of them in turn, the doctor said in a 
conspiratorial voice, "You two may not need as much counseling 
as you think."  They all shared a smile at this, Mulder's more 
knowing and Scully's more shy and uncertain.  Returning to her 
desk, Dr. Walters brought the conversation back to more 
comfortable ground.  "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm 
starting to get hungry.  I think it's time we all headed home 
for some supper." 


********
Epilogue
********
 
St. Mary's Catholic Church, Washington D.C.
November 11, 2006
1:05 pm

Standing in front of the full length mirror, Scully once again 
ran her hands down her sides to smooth out the wrinkles that 
weren't really there.  It was more of a nervous habit than 
anything, which she immediately recognized and picked up the 
bouquet from the table next to her to give her hands something 
to do. 

She couldn't help but reflect back on how many changes the last 
several months had brought.  A year ago, if anyone had told her 
where she'd be standing today, she never would have believed it.  
Back then, she was still growing accustomed to a new city and a 
new job, and trying desperately to bury the old wounds of the 
past.  But the past wouldn't remain buried, and she was forever 
grateful for that. 

Now, she looked forward to a fresh start with the only man she 
had ever really loved.  After today's ceremony to renew their 
vows and a brief weekend away, they would be returning together 
to her townhouse in San Francisco, where Mulder had been 
transferred to work anti-terrorism in the local field office.  
Beyond that, time could only tell what life would bring them.

The squeak of a door brought her out of her thoughts, and she 
turned to see her mother poking her head through the opening.  
As their eyes met, Maggie Scully entered the room and closed the 
door behind her. 

"Dana, honey, you look lovely." 

Scully was grateful that her mom no longer felt the need to 
rehash their earlier debate.  She had chosen to wear a cream-
colored suit for this ceremony, which her mother felt was much 
too business-like for such an occasion.  But to Scully, it 
seemed only appropriate since the earliest days of their 
relationship had been spent as federal agents in matching suits.  
Besides that, it was impossible for her to wear her original 
wedding dress since that had been a maternity dress, and she 
wanted to wear something entirely different today that would 
mark the difference in the occasion. 

"Thanks, Mom."  They hugged, both careful not to muss or smudge 
the other's outfit. 

As they stepped back, Maggie took hold of her daughter's hand 
and looked lovingly into her eyes.  "I don't know if I've told 
you yet how proud I am of you."  Scully only waited to let her 
continue with what she needed to say, refusing to let the tears 
welling in her mother's eyes produce matching drops in her own.  
"I'm so proud of you for trying so hard to make this marriage 
work.  I know how much Fox loves you.  I saw it in his eyes the 
very first time I met him, and I think he's only grown to love 
you more every day.  It tore me up inside when you two split up.  
I know you've had some rough times together, but I also know 
that you're both happier together than you are apart.  You'll be 
so much more blessed for choosing to continue on this path 
together." 

Scully hugged her mother again and accepted her words for what 
they were.  The elder woman's Catholic heritage had prevented 
her from seeing the separation of the couple as a valid divorce, 
and, like now, she had always studiously avoided using that term 
to refer to their status.  But Dana genuinely appreciated her 
mother's approval and blessing over their union.  She had always 
wondered how her father would have reacted to Mulder, and her 
brothers had only offered their grudging acceptance of him at 
her mother's insistence.  But to know that her mother recognized 
the love between them meant the world to her. 

Glancing over her daughter's hair and brushing back an errant 
strand, Maggie stood back and smiled at her.  "We're ready for 
you, dear." 

"Okay, I'll be out in a minute." 

Maggie slipped out quietly as Dana turned back to the mirror one 
last time.  The butterflies in her stomach were making her 
uneasy because she wasn't sure why she should be nervous about 
this.  The step they were taking today was more life-affirming 
than life-changing.  She already considered herself married to 
the man, and this ceremony was simply making that official in 
the eyes of the law.  But she couldn't help having her doubts.  
Had they really worked through all of their problems?  Was she 
just fooling herself and taking a step backward when she really 
should be moving forward alone? 

A small voice inside (that sounded a lot like Melissa) 
reprimanded, "You think too much, Dana."  She knew that to be 
true.  Mulder was always trying to teach her to trust her 
feelings.  Right now, her feelings told her that she was deeply 
in love with the man waiting for her by the altar. 

With a deep breath, she turned away from the mirror and opened 
the door.  A short walk down the hallway brought her to the 
foyer of the small church, and another step brought her into 
view of the double doors that led to the sanctuary.  They had 
foregone the music this time around, so there was no fanfare as 
she moved into the doorway and prepared to make her final 
journey down the aisle. 

The group assembled there today was small, by their choice.  In 
a pew to the left sat Maggie Scully and next to her Walter 
Skinner, two of their biggest supporters over the years.  In 
front of them stood her groom, chatting quietly with Father 
McCue, the same priest who had first wed them and now agreed to 
assist them in renewing their commitment to one another.  Scully 
waited silently in the doorway for her cue.  This time, there 
would be no one escorting her down the aisle.  She had already 
been given away; this time, she was offering herself freely to 
him again. 

As her presence was noted, each of the party fell silent and 
turned their eyes to her.  Skinner and her mother rose from 
their seats, and Dana began her approach.  She smiled at each of 
them in turn, but when her eyes fell on Fox Mulder, her 
consciousness of everyone else in the room melted away.  There 
in his loving gaze she found all the assurance she had lacked 
just a few moments ago. 

Looking at him now, she saw not the graying temples or the signs 
of age, but a boyish face with a charming curl that insisted on 
falling across his forehead. 

*Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted.* 

Unwanted, he was anything but.  He was wanted, desired, longed 
for, by this woman that had fallen under his spell so long ago. 

*Actually, I'm looking forward to working with you.* 

She meant it then, and she meant it still now.  She looked 
forward to their continued journey together.  After all, life 
with Fox Mulder had never been boring. 

As she reached the altar and turned to face her beloved, one 
last doubt ran through her mind: Can I really live with this man 
again?  But she knew immediately that it didn't matter.  The 
bottom line was that she couldn't live without him.


*******
THE END
*******


Want to know if they live happily ever after?  Curious about 
what really happened to William?  A sequel is in the works (but 
should be coming out a lot sooner than XF2)! 


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