=====o================================================o===== "Rustic Suite" - Coda by Mary Ruth Keller (mrkeller@eclipse.net) Disclaimed in Prelude =====o================================================o===== -----o------------------------------------------------o----- Beatrice: In spite of your heart, I think; alas, poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates. Benedick: Thou and I are too wise to woo... Much Ado About Nothing -----o------------------------------------------------o----- Apartment 5 Alexandria, VA Friday, January 24, 1997 2:36 am As the phone buzzed from the nightstand, Dana Scully groaned in her sleep. After she finished up the autopsy on the wolf's body, they had spent most of the day wrapping up the paperwork in Fordyce. Various annoying, but minor, delays forced them to catch the last flight from Little Rock to National Thursday night. Groggily, she unclipped the hand unit and held it to her face. "Scully." She heard a sniffle. "Scully, you okay?" "I'm fine, Mulder. What's wrong?" "Uh, nothing. As long as you're okay, then I'm fine. Sorry, go back to sleep." Scully slid against the pillows until she was upright. "No, I'm awake. Should I put on a pot of decaf so we can talk?" A long pause, then a softer sniffle. "Yeah. Thanks." Tossing the covers aside, she pulled on a pair of bright red socks with rubber soles, then padded to the kitchen. After setting the water on to boil, she shook frozen beans of cinnamon flavored Viennese roast into the grinder. Knowing he preferred his coffee rich and dark, she set up an old-style Melita pot, then rubbed the ache in her right arm. They could drive to each other's places in ten minutes or less, anymore, so she expected his knock at any time. As she poured boiling water into the filter, she heard a soft tapping, put the kettle down, and walked to the door. Her partner was standing in the hall, looking orphaned and lost, so she took him by the elbow to gently guide him inside. Once the door closed, he whimpered and hugged her tightly. As she wrapped her arms around his back, she could tell he was still shaking. Whispering soothing words, Scully reached up to his face, but the horror in his eyes stopped her. "Mulder?" He gulped several times before he found his voice. Even then, he could only manage a hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry, Scully." She looked into his eyes steadily. He chewed his lower lip before he spoke. "It's all my fault." Her brow crinkled. She tugged on his elbow. "It's okay, come into the kitchen with me. The coffee should be ready soon." Releasing her, Mulder followed his partner as she walked away. Scully could feel his hand on her back. Once they were in her kitchen, she turned out a chair, but he refused it. As she moved around the room, pulling down the crockery and setting out the sugar and milk for him to flavor his cup as he wished, she stopped. She realized Mulder was not helping her in the kitchen as he usually did. Instead, he was shadowing her as closely as her Pomeranian used to when she would first return home from a case. Puzzled, she spooned in sugar for him, then poured milk into both their oversized mugs before adding the coffee. He silently took the one she held out. They sat facing each other, as they had in countless diners, on endless stakeouts, and at this table during the previous five years. "Scully?" She met his gaze. "Tell me about it, Mulder, please. It doesn't take a degree in psychology to see you're all torn up about something." Frowning, he stared at the coffee in his cup while his face reddened and cleared. "Am I a bad person?" If the question had not been asked in such deadly earnest, she would have laughed it off with one of the droll quips she was learning he loved her to administer. Instead, she covered the hand that lay on the table with her own. "No, Mulder, you're not." She squeezed his palm. "I'm listening." He sighed. "I was on trial, Scully. I was being tried for everything I ever did wrong, from one time as a kid when I tripped and dropped some China to running off and jumping on that train in West Virginia." He paused. "I couldn't defend myself." He looked up, as alone and afraid as when he entered her apartment. "I could only stand there, saying 'Yes, yes, I did it.', but every time I confessed, someone else was punished in my place. They hurt Sam, you, my parents, Max, your Mom, Melissa, even Skinner." They snorted at the thought. "Everybody but me, Scully, everyone I've ever known was punished *but* me. All the dreams we had this past week told us something about ourselves." He swallowed. "Does this one count too?" Scully shook her head. "We both had our usual abduction nightmares while on stake-out, remember?" "Oh." Embarrassed, he studied their hands. Scully nodded to herself. "So you're saying this is a variation on my usual beat-myself-up-in-my-sleep dream?" She lifted one corner of her mouth. "Right-oh, partner, you've even managed to wrap in our last case, if you think about it." He raised his head once, then let his chin fall to his chest. Releasing his hand, she leaned forward. "Either that, or you're just looking for an excuse for some female companionship that isn't two-dimensional." She waited, but there was no return jibe, so she tapped his wrist and continued, "two-dimensional and stacked like Traci Lords?" Although one corner of his mouth twitched, he did not lift his eyes to hers. Mentally, she reviewed the events of the past year, until she found herself standing again in the small hotel room that so concerned her partner the first night they were in Fordyce. "Mulder, you've been so very decent and gentle with me, and I'm more grateful than you can know for our friendship, so don't take this the wrong way when I ask. You're a normal man with a healthy libido, but I've only ever seen you pay attention to Doctor Berenbaum and Detective White." He meet her gaze, his eyes clear of the night terror, and desperately thankful for the support and consideration she showed by changing to a far more comfortable subject. Making a trip to the counter to top off his mug, he realized he had wanted to share some of these things with her for a long time. After he sat, he looked over at his closest friend. "Yeah, the last woman I spent any significant time with other than you was Phoebe Green. You are right to think I was enslaved to her. I never knew what she wanted, or how to please her, and Lord knows I tried. Before she came back, I thought I was over her, but that case with L'Ively showed me I wasn't. In those few hours I seriously considered Bambi, all my old fears and feelings of inadequacy rose to the surface again. Even though we weren't on the best of terms then, being able to call you, just to tell you that dumb story about the praying mantis, helped me fight those emotions off and stay sane." He smiled quickly at the memory. "I knew after that I'm not ready for a relationship with anyone, and these days, casual stuff is life-threatening." Scully nodded, keeping silent so he would continue. He bounced his fist on the quilted placemat, his eyes guarded and afraid again. "I have no idea what I was thinking with Detective White. I said and did some really stupid things there." He considered his words carefully before he canted his face at her. "Scully, your friendship means more to me than I can say as well. I haven't had all that many in my life, and to have someone I can talk to whenever you or I need it..." Mulder reddened. Walking over to the counter to refill her mug, she gave him a little space to compose himself. When she resumed her seat, he was calm again. She took a single sip before she began. "Mulder, when I hallucinated I was talking to your father last month, he said Phoebe had put beasts in your soul." Unzipping his jacket, he slid out of his padded corduroy coat. He had come straight over from his futon, so he was in his sweats and an undershirt, with his boots only loosely laced. "Well, that was less of an hallucination than you think, Scully; he was right about the beasts." Studying her face, he was surprised at how somber she was, so he squeezed her hand again, releasing it slowly. "You accept me for who I am and we've agreed to disagree without letting it come between us. As a result, we've become good friends, something Phoebe and I never were. I had always hoped that our physical intimacy would lead to a full relationship, but with her, everything was a game or a puzzle to solve." He stared at his coffee. "She was, well, wild. She gave me marks." His partner started to frown, but he shook his head. "Not those kind, *grades*. She would rate our," he offered as he shifted uncomfortably, "well, you know." Eyes wide, Scully started. "Mulder! That's horrid! How could you love her when she did that to you?" She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. "I mean, I understand how you would be attractive for a woman, but ..." As he chuckled, she looked up to see him smirking. "Do tell, Agent Scully." "You've done me the favor of not considering me ugly, but frankly, I don't see why all the women in the Bureau aren't falling at your feet." He closed his eyes, raised the mug, and sipped the brown liquid slowly. His thoughts collected, he opened simply, "Yeah." He shrugged. "Work is different, you know that. Dating someone at the office, even if it's just a secretary in some far-distant division, leads to nothing but trouble. I've seen it tear groups up, Scully." He lifted his eyes to hers. "I know agents have married at the Bureau, but it's always toughest on the woman involved. Even if they don't have kids, her career slows down or she drops to a less risky job, and that's not right." A sorrowful expression crossed his face as she watched. "I'm sorry you being partnered with me has held you back. You really could become the Director, you know." She shook her head. "No, you haven't held me back; I've been challenged by the cases we've worked on, which is what I wanted when I was assigned to you." She leaned forward, hoping to keep him from his self-loathing. "Sometimes job satisfaction counts for as much as a big office and a fancy title." He tried to muster a crooked grin in gratitude. She chewed her lip before she continued, "You loved Phoebe so completely, Mulder, she could rope you back in even after ten years apart." He ran his hand through his hair. "I've never told you everything about her, and I'm not sure I ever will. But when she came back, I found myself hoping she had tired of her, her *activities*, that she would let us be together, but she never wanted that. It was just another opportunity for her to play her games. I hope she settles down enough with this new guy." He looked over at her. "Max said they were engaged, you know." Scully raised an eyebrow. "No, I didn't know." She leaned forward. "Here's hoping it takes, Mulder, then she'll leave you alone forever." He had begun chewing his lip, and she wanted him to keep talking, to keep sharing. With all the coming changes, these deep conversations would be too few and far between. He nodded. "Yeah. You've been good to me, Scully. I wish we weren't trapped in the situation we're in right now, with the Shadows convulsing and all the new job pressures. We could both have used an extra week in Florida, especially after what happened at the Ranch. Max gave me a set of keys so if the weather or the politics is too much this winter, we can escape if we want." His eyes narrowed, and he pointed his chin at her. "What about you? You've never talked much about your past life. What about Jack Willis?" She let her eyes wander over the room. "I thought we were here to talk about you, Mulder." He grinned. "Helping me has taken up so much of your energy lately, Scully." He reached over to tug gently on her sleeve, avoiding her bandaged arm. "Your turn." "Jack was a good man, but he didn't push us into a heavily physical relationship." She shrugged. "Sure, we kissed and cuddled, but he never wanted us to become too serious, and we never, well..." Her partner greeted this news with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "Like you, he knew the damage a long-term involvement would be to a woman starting a career at the FBI." She leaned back, rubbing her feet against each other in the thick socks to warm them, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Remember when I said I was no nun?" She watched for his nod. "Well, technically, I guess I could qualify, but with all that's happened to me, it hardly seems to matter anymore." Deeply concerned, he left his seat and took the one beside her. "Scully, are you all right?" She sighed, nodding. "But I have to face facts, Mulder, my body has changed since the surgery. I try to keep healthy with the exercise and the diet, but I don't expect anyone would ever want me." She stood, facing away from him. "Men want whole women who can give them children, not mutilated shells with implants that may develop cancer at any time." She walked over to the doorway, leaning against the frame and facing into her living room. "As for the other, well, any intimacy with me now would require patience and tenderness, qualities that are in short supply in most men." Mulder shifted in his seat, wanting to voice a denial, then forced himself to keep silent. She flicked aimlessly at a loose spot of paint on the door. "Which is for the best, I guess. I never really thought much about dating or relationships when I was in high school or college, except to occasionally wonder what other girls had that I didn't. My life was too full of studying and keeping up with Mel and my brothers." Scully looked up at her father's mug and the ceramic Pomeranian. "That's part of the problem with being short. You always feel like you're running just to stay with everyone else, and sometimes it was easier being on my own so I didn't slow anybody down." Falling silent, she listened to her partner's deep, regular breathing. Scully closed her eyes, wondering whether her dark mood was a function of the time of year or of the weariness she felt. She opened them and turned, expecting to see his head on the table, but he had been standing beside her, his dark eyes full of sympathy and caring. Mulder brushed her cheek with his fingertips, but Scully could not read the thoughts behind his pained expression. "I've never forgiven myself for that crack about your little feet at Comity. You've worked so hard to overcome the limitations you see up there - " He touched her forehead in gentle rebuke. " - that you're capable of things most people twice your size aren't. I know it's rough for you sometimes, and that you wear out, too." She started to back away, but he clamped down firmly on her shoulder. "I want you to know I'll be there for you then, Scully. You always tell me it's all right to need someone else's help, and it is, for *both* of us. This partnership thing is a two-way street." Scully crossed her arms. "Mul - " His face intense from the memory, he shook his head, silencing her before he whispered, "I almost killed you last month after you saved me from my own foolishness *again*, and I've had my own share of lost sleep over what I did." She frowned and inhaled to give voice her concern. He held up his hand, releasing her. "I finally worked my way through the guilt by promising myself never to let you to be hurt by anyone, ever, not with words, nor by actions." He bent over until their noses were level. "I *know* you can take care of yourself, Pallas Athena, and me in the bargain, but if you find someone for real, he'd better be good to you. So help me, if he isn't, I'll hound him to the ends of the earth." She lifted one corner of her mouth in gratitude, wondering if her own brothers would show such concern for their serious sister. Mulder walked back to sit at the table, crossing his arms. "Things will change at the office with the new agents and the expanded section, but I never want anything to come between us. I like your idea of the lunches twice a week, just for us. Losing you would be like losing half my soul." As she turned in the doorway to look over her shoulder at him, she released her breath in a sigh. "Cynthia is already utterly baffled by you, Mulder, but don't worry about losing me. Work and the X-Files, even with the Shadows, are the best they've ever been, so much so that if I were a superstitious person," she said, wrinkling her nose at his smirk, "I'd be worried that something is going to happen to one of us, and that usually means you. I'll do my part to make this transition as easy for you as possible, even though as Section Head, you'll be putting up with the majority of the political nonsense. Losing you would be like losing the better half of myself, the part I trust more than any other." Crossing over the space between them, he leaned gently against her back. "Good. Then between us we're a whole person. I like that." He stepped away to see her face. "You don't trust your Mom?" She rubbed the floor with the ball of her foot. "Of course, but right now, we need some space. She feels guilty about what happened in Miami with the man from the Shadows, even though I told her it wasn't her fault, that they could try to kill us at any time." "I'm sorry something's come between you and Mrs. Scully. She needs you as much as you need her. Would it help if I called her?" She smiled again. "No, thank you though, Mulder, we'll work this out when the time is right." Thinking the subject closed, Scully hugged herself against the cold. But he was patting her shoulder gently. "I don't mean to push you, but you need to hold on to as much as you can of your family and a normal social life. I have to find Sam and bring her back safe, but that means I've left so much undone." She raised her eyebrows. "There are very few things I know for certain anymore, but one of them is that you *will* find her." Reading the resolute look on her face, he returned a broad smile of gratitude, but gestured for her to continue. She nodded. "But I've always worried about why you seek out the approval of people who are no good for you." As the expression faded, she met his now confused eyes. "Your Mother and I talked in Miami, and she told me what your Father did to you, Mulder. I've already watched Phoebe wind you up in knots." She shook her head. "I'm no better, I guess. It seems I'm perpetually yelling at you or beating you up, like they did." He growled his disagreement, "They did it because it made them feel good to play games with my mind; you and I argue because we have strong opinions on many things, which is fine. I wouldn't want you any other way, Scully. You've never let me down when I've needed you, really and truly, even back to the case at Ellens Air Force Base right after we started working together." She stared up at a needlepoint image of a sunrise, framed and mounted on her kitchen wall. It was one of the few handicraft projects her sister had tried, and the only personal item she had left from Mel. "But I couldn't reach you in time to keep you from jumping off the bridge onto that train, Mulder; X had to go in for you, I couldn't. To make things worse, I've shot you, slugged you, and broken your ribs." Although her reply was whispered, he sensed her regret in the marrow of his bones. He turned her chin with his finger and tapped her nose. "Now who's obsessing, Scully, you're not Diana Prince, you know. All the times you've caused me physical pain, it was a choice between that or my death, and I'd rather be alive to have you pick me up and scold me afterwards. I'm sorry we fought over what was in that boxcar. Without further evidence, we can't determine whether it was alien or human." She lifted one corner of her mouth. "I know, Mulder. Although with the D'Amato documents, I'm really starting to wonder..." Feeling the cold as well, he smiled as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Whether old Spooky might be right?" She shrugged. "No, whether we shouldn't provide a select group of people outside the Bureau limited access to our files." "Oh?" Her excitement propelling her, she circled the table. "I know they are classified as internal documents only, but the D'Amato papers have people talking, studying, thinking. I've tried over the years to record as fully as possible what we think we've experienced, with plausible explanations when I could think them up. I don't know whether it's the fatigue or not, but lately it seems so hard for me to make sense of it all. I'm glad we're getting help, Mulder, but we need to train them ourselves." He tipped his head. "How?" "To try to do what I should have been doing from the start, to keep an open mind, to write everything down, and not prejudge the evidence. That's tough for a scientist, because usually one needs a theory to guide the search for data. I haven't been able to explain everything we've seen, but some day, if I can just make accurate enough descriptions, someone will." Mulder walked over to stand in front of her and wrapped her face with both of his hands, his eyes glistening. "That's all I've ever wanted from you. Thank you." The overhead kitchen light flickered and failed. Sighing, she crossed to the table beneath it, and stepped up on the seat of one of the chairs. "I'll have to speak to the Landlord; I think the fixture's going. That's the third time in a month I've lost one." Using her sleeve as insulation, she loosened the hot bulb. "Mulder, would you pass me ..." As he put a hand on her back, she stopped and looked down. He beckoned to her in a come-down gesture. "Sure. You still keep the bulbs in the hall closet?" Mulder guided Scully to the floor, holding her by her waist, not her torn arms. "Um-hum." As she followed him, she glanced into the living room. "Mulder, it's snowing!" Scully walked to the window. After changing the bulb, he joined her there, where she smiled her gratitude up at his amused eyes. Mulder brushed her shoulders with his fingertips. "Oh, great, I hope your milk is still good." "It wasn't supposed to start until Sunday." He looked out over her head. "Well, never believe the forecasts in Washington, DC." Flopping on the sofa, he dug around behind her cushions for the remote control. She joined him as he searched the channels. "Where's the Weather Channel again?" Scully held his wrist with one hand, plucking the remote from his fingers with the other, and cocking an eyebrow at his frown of protest as she did. "Try the 24 hour local news station. Here." She dropped the black unit on the table as the figure on the screen was waving his hand over a map of the local area. The numbers written on the square in the center read '18" to 24".' They groaned. Scully shifted to face him. "Well, Mulder, you might as well make yourself at home." He pushed himself off the sofa, secretly delighted at the turn of events. When he returned from the hall closet, pillow in hand, she stood. "We'll sleep in the rest of the morning, for certain. You know the government will shut down." As she headed for the kitchen, he unlaced his boots. "Oh, Scully?" She turned. "Hum?" He looked up to her, suddenly anxious again. "Is it okay if I call my Mom from your place? I'll pay." She nodded. "Sure, Mulder, and don't worry about the cost. I use your phone and water often enough. She's all right, isn't she?" "Yeah, I just promised to say in touch and ..." Now she smiled broadly and retrieved the phone from the bedroom. "Go ahead, Mulder, and talk as long as you want. Say Hi to her and to Max for me, all right?" Grinning, he took the unit. Scully stepped into the kitchen. She wanted to clean the coffee pot and mugs before turning in for the rest of the night, so when he woke, he could fix his flavorful African coffee himself. Since they were working at each other's apartments together so often, their refrigerators and pantries were beginning to stock the same goods. She frowned at her thoughts. --o-0-o-- Lowenberg Residence Santorini, Greece Friday, 10:01 am Caroline Lowenberg hurried in from the back deck to catch the phone in the living room. She heard a man's cough when she placed the receiver against her ear. "Mom?" Caroline's breath hitched. It was the same inflection her son always used when he stood outside her bedroom door, bearing a meal on a tray, tentative, yet querulous. Her husband entered from the office, waiting. Max smiled, sharing her joy when she identified the caller. "Fox!" She sat. "Are you all right?" "Yeah, Mom, I am. I just wanted to see how your flight went. Are you and Max okay?" "Yes, Fox, we are. We didn't see anyone suspicious once we left the States. Son, it must be four in the morning in DC. Couldn't you sleep?" "Um, well, ..." "Son, tell me, are you really all right?" "Yeah. I had a dream, that's all, so I came over to Scully's to talk." "Oh, give Dana my love. How was the rest of your stay in Miami?" "Hunh." A pause. "Mom, we're okay. I'll send you an E-mail." Another pause. "I think you and Max should plan on staying on the Island for a while." "Sure, Fox. Just stay in touch, all right?" "Yeah. It's strange, Mom, after all these years, to talk about the Island again." "I know, Fox. But it's a different Island. You and Dana, if she wants, should come for a visit soon. I know how depressing winter can be, but here, it's wonderful. What's the noise?" "Oh, that. Scully's taking a bath. We got back late from a case, and it's snowing. The apartment's still cold, too. Scully turned the heat down while we were in Arkansas, and it's an old unit, so it takes a while to warm the rooms back up." "It's snowing?" "Yeah, the forecast is for two feet by morning. You know how it goes in DC. No one expects the January snowstorm." She laughed. "Fox, I won't fuss. But, tell me, did you talk to Margaret any?" "Yeah. I know what you're referring to, Mom." A sigh. "I don't think she'll be hassling Scully anytime soon." A cough. "I'll write you about it, okay?" "Of course, Fox." "Mom?" "Yes?" "May I speak with Max?" "Sure." She passed the receiver to her husband. "He wants to talk to you, dear." He nodded. "Hello, Mulder." "Hey." A pause. "Max? Thanks for talking to Mrs. Scully. She'd been pushing Scully pretty hard lately." Max frowned for a moment, wondering how his stepson could keep his partner's family straight in his mind if he called them all Scully. "It's no problem, Mulder. You and Dana are trying to survive through a very troubled situation. Even though she's a wonderful person, Margaret's only had to deal with the home side of life, so she doesn't grasp your difficulties." "Yeah." A long silence. "Max, I don't want to say too much over the phone..." "I understand, Mulder. Just keep in touch. We really only need to know that you and Dana are fine, if that's all you can do. I've made some contacts myself on certain other matters, and I'll send some information your way as soon as I can, all right?" "Oh?" "Nothing yet, but there are more groups I want to access." Max looked over at his wife. "Mulder, I'm sorry, but we have a meeting in fifteen minutes. I'll have to turn you back over to Caroline. Take care, all right?" "Yeah." He heard a brooding sadness in the falling tone. "Bye." Max handed the phone back to Caroline, kissing her cheek as he did so. "I'll see you at the car, dear." She nodded. "Fox?" "Yeah?" "I'll have to sign off, too." "Is this about her, Mom?" "It might be, Son. You two look out for each other, all right?" "Sure. Bye." --o-0-o-- Dana Scully heard her partner's voice over the running water, but the two sounds blended until the words were indistinct. Satisfied with the temperature, she settled down, sinking in up to her nose. This was the second time in as many months that she had sought to lose her winter's chill in this antique treasure. She thought back to the strange bug from the ice they had encountered when she first started working with Mulder. Had it been of extraterrestrial origin, as he had believed, or just another Arctic organism, albeit a strange one, desperately seeking to propagate, as most things in the frozen wastes had to? With the destruction of the base camp, they would never know. That was the first time he had reached out for her, after having been locked in the storage bin. They had held guns on each other, uncertain whose body was harboring the worm. Once she had prodded and poked his neck, longer than was absolutely necessary, but she had to be *sure*, she had turned to leave. He had held her, checked her neck, and leaned against her, before the door burst open. Even that early on, she should have known he was desperate for some human contact, some connection between him and the rest of humanity. She held her nose and dunked herself, rubbing her hair vigorously to wet it. Once she emerged, she worked in the rosemary shampoo, smiling at his earlier curiosity. Scully knew they were deeply interconnected now, which was how partners were supposed to be to function well, but there were times she wanted it to be just her, Dana Scully, and no one else. Dunking again, she scrubbed her hair free of the cleanser, re-emerging to continue her bath, lost in her reverie. All the way through Medical School, her schedule had kept her so busy she had not had time to socialize, except for the rare occasions she and Susan talked after classes. At Quantico, she had been so distant from the other trainees she had earned the nickname 'Ice Queen', but there had been no one there who challenged her, to draw her out. Then she had been assigned to Mulder. His outrageous statements, spoken with absolute conviction, had brought out all the old feistiness she thought she had carefully hidden away under a professional facade of calm detachment. Initially, she had been so furious with him she had not realized how much he was challenging her. She had just launched attack after attack, but fascinated by their cases, had not left him. Nor had he sent her away, which he could very well have done. Somewhere in those first years she had realized just how bright he really was, and she had sought to persuade him, to convince him. But he had fired back, until they achieved a degree of respect for each other like nothing they felt for anyone either had known. Scully rose from the tub, drying herself. While slipping into her sweats again, she frowned. To her, a brother was a distant creature who either ignored her or pushed her aside. Bill Jr., once she started school, had taken no more interest in her than in frilly, feminine Melissa, despite her efforts to distance herself from the older girl. For Charlie, she had been dreaded competition, someone he *had* to beat in schoolwork or games to claim his parents' attention. But, for neither of them was she a friend or someone worthy of much notice or energy. Her mother had given her as much love and care as was fair for a woman who had four children and a beloved husband, gone at sea much of the time. For her mostly absent Ahab, she had been the favorite, his Starbuck. This had not helped with her brothers, who considered her an interloper, the thief who had taken what should have been rightfully theirs, their father's time and attention. To him, being a brother was being bodyguard, caretaker, and friend. He adored his long-lost sister, his Sam, and she knew he considered their relationship similar in many ways. Scully could tell this in the way he looked down at her with concern and compassion when she wore out or needed a break, slowing his pace just enough for her to catch her breath. He also delighted in her jests, took pride in her successes, and used those gentle touches of his to show support and affection for her. These were all things Scully would have loved her brothers to do for her, but when she could not have them, she closed herself off from needing them. Each being denied the things they desired most, they chose to need nothing at all, to be outsiders when they desperately wanted to be included in something, by someone? Well, they could be insiders in a society of two, and soon, if all went well at the Bureau, a few others. She would have to do her share of the work, to not cringe when he held a door for her, to thank him for his aid, rather than push the help away or take it for granted when offered. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, and headed for the living room. --o-0-o-- Fox Mulder lifted his head off the pillow at the sound of his partner's soft approach. "Scully?" She turned on the light behind him, so he was not blinded before his eyes adjusted, but he blinked rapidly regardless. "Mulder, I need your help." He snapped to attention as she unconsciously repeated the words that had so devastated him when they came from his answering machine. The sight of her holding out scissors, gauze, and tape, elicited a relieved grin and a jest, "No Bride of the Mummy fears?" She shrugged as he swung his feet to the floor. "It takes two hands. I can't rewrap my arms myself." She sat on the coffee table, facing him, while he cut the soggy bandages away. "I'll need to rewrap you after your shower tomorrow." "Do you want me to treat these, Dr. Scully?" She examined the holes for unusual puffiness or discoloration. "No, just bandages." She paused. "Please." Delighted that she would finally ask for his aid, he rewrapped her arm, wrist, and hand with practiced ease, and a gentle touch. Scully observed, again, how genuinely happy taking care of someone made her quick-witted partner. Once he had finished, she asked, "How are your Mom and Max?" Mulder grinned, pulling his feet up, so she could sit and they could talk. He watched the changing lights from the television reflect off her eyes, then the spherical mirrors were covered by pale lids, while she tucked her bare feet under herself. "Oh, okay. They may have some leads on Sam." She smiled, broadly and happily. "That's great, Mulder." She froze. "But you don't look pleased." After pulling the Maya blanket over his legs, he wrapped his arms around his knees. "I am, Scully, but I'm also surprised. I've looked so long with so little success, and here they may have found something." She leaned forward. "You always saw yourself as Sir Galahad, not Sir Lancelot, I take it?" He regarded her levelly. "Yeah." "But Mulder, if they find her, she's back and she's yours again." Rubbing his eyes, he snorted. "Okay, Scully, I see your point. But I wanted it to be me, that's all." "Mulder! Don't give up so easily!" She dropped her voice. "It may still be you." He shook his head. "Or us together. That's what your father told me." Turning the pillow on end, he leaned against it. "I like this thought of us finding her together." As he played with the roll of gauze on the table, his voice dropped. "Our friendship feels like it was when Sam was with me. We were rarely apart, especially when she had nightmares, which was often. I've never told you, but her greatest fear was of monsters hovering over her, bed vultures, she called them, and when she floated out that window..." Gritting his teeth, he stared at his knees and willed his tears away. "I'm honored, Mulder." He frowned. "Don't be surprised. I've figured that out about you years ago. Until you find Sam, I'm the next best thing. Most women would be insulted, but you love your sister more than your own life, and even if I rate a little bit against her," she whispered as she shifted on the cushions, "well, as I said, I'm honored you think of us as similar." She gave him one of her radiant, full smiles and he felt his dark mood lift. "I'm also grateful that you've shared that part of your life with me. You used to think Sam was your own personal punishment for living, but now you'll tell me about your time with her, and you want me to help you find her." He was quiet, lost in his thoughts, until he shook his head and focused on her, wearing another one of his unreadable looks. "No, that's not true, so stop belittling yourself." He frowned at his ironic turn of phrase. "I mean, yes, you are like Sam in many ways, good ways, but you're my friend and partner, first and foremost. Never forget what I'm about to say: I won't give up the X-files and ditch you just because I find her. Every one of our investigations raises more questions than answers, and I'd like us to completely resolve some of these cases to both our satisfactions, before we retire." Scully turned away quickly, and Mulder watched her struggle to control her emotions. Waiting until her shaking had diminished, he moved close to her and slid his hand up and down her spine. She began to stiffen, to pull away, and stopped. She lifted her eyes to his face and her breath caught. Her tall friend was regarding her with a look of regret and loss that tore at her heart. "You miss her every day, don't you?" Nodding, he drew a few breaths to steady himself, slid back to his end of the sofa, and began absently twisting the fringe on the brightly colored cover. "Sometimes just a little, and sometimes, it's as if she was taken yesterday." Finding himself almost overcome, he stared down at his lap. She leaned forward. "Mulder, I know I'm not her, but ..." Moving the blanket aside, he held out his arm, a tiny grin pricking at one corner of his lips, under eyes that still looked a thousand years old. Scully rested her head in Mulder's lap and curled her sore arm over his legs. Grasping her shoulder, he rubbed circles in the joint with his thumb, then with both hands worked his way down to her bandaged wrist. He tucked the variegated blanket behind her back until she was covered against the cold. In a few minutes, her breathing evened out, but before she drifted completely to sleep, he heard a soft, 'Thank you, Mulder.' The words warmed him as no full-force August blast could. --o-0-o-- Apartment 5 Alexandria, VA Friday, 10:47 am Dana Scully smelled pancakes and coffee. She inhaled deeply, and caught another scent on the pillow that had been placed under her head. She turned onto her back, opening one green-blue eye. Her partner's face appeared in her vision. "Hey, Grey-Eyes! I never knew this deathless goddess business was so taxing. It's a good thing OPM closed the government today for you. Can a mere mortal interest you in something other than ambrosia and nectar for breakfast?" He bowed, lifting his head at her chortling. "Sure, Mulder. And these were all done by divine fiat, so ..." She walked towards her kitchen, visions of batter dripping off the ceiling uppermost in her mind. She stopped so suddenly in the doorway that he bounced off her back. The room was spotless, the places set, the coffee on a trivet in the center of the table. The griddle cakes were stacked neatly on a tray, steam rising from them. He had even cooked down several apples to use as a sweetener in addition to his preference from his time in England, nutmeg syrup. Scully was stunned. Mulder rested his hand on her shoulder, and she swiveled. "Thank you for last night, Scully. We need to talk more like that." Impulsively, she turned and squeezed him, whispering her thanks as she remembered all the times he had been there for her. Overwhelmed by the gratitude his normally undemonstrative partner was expressing, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. When she did not release him immediately, he held her a little tighter. Finally, he joked in her ear, "If I knew my cooking affected you this way, I'd do it every chance I get." She patted his shoulder and stepped back. Before they sat, he prepared the coffee for both of them, passing her a mug as he took his place on the other side of the table. Except for her occasional compliments, which he accepted with a bowed head, the partners ate in silence. When most of the stack of pancakes was gone, he leaned back. "Since we're trapped here for the weekend, you'll be happy to know I stopped by the office on the way home from the airport..." While forcing the last bite down, Scully cocked an eyebrow. "What, you brought over new X-Files?" He shrugged. "Sorry, no. Just the records on our prospective candidates." She nodded. "We can look those over after breakfast." Scully sighed, furious with herself for being so absorbed. He caught her anger, and cringed. She shook her head. "No, Mulder, we won't look those personnel files over after breakfast. We'll be here all weekend, and be making guesses as to their great grandmothers' liver ailments before this development is plowed. We can have a little fun first." He relaxed, settling in for rousing badinage. "Ooh, and here I thought you virgin goddesses didn't go in for *that* kind of recreation." She placed her fork on her plate. "We don't. However, this red-haired doctor thinks a free snow day, thanks to two unpredicted feet, too good to waste." She poked him in the chest. "I intend, with the assistance of a certain monster-hunter I know, to spend the better part of the afternoon building the biggest snow alien we possibly can, if he is so inclined." Mulder's eyes were positively luminescent with delight. "Doctor Scully, your well-punctured partner thinks that's the best offer he's had in a long time, except for one slight problem." He stared pointedly at his undershirt. "Frostbite." She shook her head. "No challenge too great for a Goddess of Wisdom. I have a pair of gloves Ahab left here once, and your brown sweater you loaned me." He grinned. "Works for me. So, dishes?" "No, today, I'm coloring outside the lines." He rose, dropping his plate in the sink as a matter of habit. "Now I know I've affected you, Scully." "More than you think, Mulder." --o-0-o-- Alexandria, VA Friday, 3:52 pm Edgar Johnson stopped the snowplow long enough to take a swig of coffee from his thermos. The snow that had fallen was heavy and dense, perfect for snowballs and snowmen, but terrible to push. Multicolored lights caught his eye, so he stepped down from the cab to take a better look. On the front lawn of the apartment complex across the street, a tall man and a red-haired woman were stringing Christmas lights around a mound of snow, formed into what looked like a flying saucer. He shook his head. He could see the orange extension cord strung back to a window in one of the ground-floor apartments, so the lights were flashing as they wound the cable around the saucer's edge. As the woman moved over to where the man stood, his arms crossed, Edgar glimpsed a snowman, but it was one of the fakey creatures he had seen on 'Alien Autopsy' or some other show his kids always had on. Climbing back into the cab, he caught the words they were speaking as their voices carried in the stillness. "What do you think, Scully?" "I hate to say it, Mulder, but it looks good enough that we may have to open an X-File on it to please the media." "Nah, I think they've seen weirder stuff." As he turned the engine over, Edgar shook his head. Checking one final time, he saw in his side-view mirror the man and woman, walking back to the building together, her hand slipped through his arm. Edgar frowned at the woman's words. --FINIS-- RUSTIC SUITE -----o-----------------------------o----- But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please. The Tempest -----o-----------------------------o----- =====o=====================================================o===== Well, that's that. Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome; I hope this one soared like "War of the Coprophages," and didn't groan like "Syzygy." I had intended this little story as a tribute to the sorely missed Darin Morgan, so I attempted to include as many references to his four wonderful episodes as I could. Also, I tried to follow his lead of using humor to reveal deep truths about our two lead characters. I always love to hear from my readers, regardless, and when I'm not totally swamped with work, I write back! (Which may frighten or encourage you, depending.) But, for the next few stories, I return to the Realm of Total Paranoia... (rubbing my hands together evilly like Dr. Clayton Forrester) One final note: I have used the image of the wolf to represent the dark evil of legend that lurks and snarls. The real animal is nothing at all like its myth. There has been no documented case in North America of fatal human predation by wolves; in fact, coyotes do more damage to livestock and property than wolves ever did in our imaginations. The wolf pack is actually a family group that raises the young of the Alpha pair cooperatively, and avoids humans whenever possible. The wolf's chief food in the Arctic is mice. We should all hope the Yellowstone re-introduction program is a resounding success. Acknowledgements: I'd like to thank Adina Ringler (again) for all her support and suggestions (we did it, he's in the maze, with no time travel), John Madigan for many long E-mails (in both directions) on Mulder's character, and Britton Trimble for our discussions on Margaret Scully. Released to ATXC: 7/10/96 Corrected and revised for POV shifts with some additions and content changes: 6/19-20/97 Second revision: 4/8-9/98 =====o====================================================o=====