From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Sat, 16 Oct 1999 11:50:37 -0500
Subject: The Chapel by Christie Cash
Source: direct

Reply To: txchiefsfan@yahoo.com


TITLE: The Chapel
AUTHOR: Christie Cash
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, just keep my name 
attached
CLASSIFICATION: Vignette; MSR; Mulder POV
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Tiny one for "Milagro" 
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them.  If I did, 
they'd have a heck of a lot more fun. 
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully have a 
conversation in the chapel at the Naval 
Academy (Note this does NOT have anything to 
do with the words "Dearly beloved...")
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first shot at fan 
fiction, so no promises attached.  This 
piece was inspired by two things: a great 
article in the October Southern Living 
magazine about the Naval Academy Chapel in 
Annapolis and an incredible Beauty and the 
Beast (TV) fanfic by Rosemarie Hauer titled 
Prayer.  If you have a moment, go read that 
story at 
http://www.rtchaos.com/cabb/prayer.html. 
FEEDBACK: No qualms about begging,especially 
since this is my first piece.  
Email at txchiefsfan@yahoo.com. 

As my eyes adjust to the interior light, I 
scan for Scully.  We had wrapped up the case 
an hour ago, and Scully had sneaked out as I 
was speaking to the Admiral.  I remembered 
the way she had glanced at the church when 
we drove up to Annapolis this morning, and I 
thought she might have made her way here.  
My eyes are drawn immediately to her 
silhouette by one of the stained glass windows. 
I am certain she doesn't know I 
am there, she is so enthralled by the 
colored pictures.  I, too, am entranced as I 
watch her.  The light filters through the 
glass like a direct spotlight from Above.  
She looks so peaceful, content, and a small 
smile spreads across her face as she reaches 
towards the panes.  At this moment, I think 
that Scully is more beautiful than any 
heavenly being could be. 

I try to silently ease my body onto a hard 
wooden pew, but my weight betrays me and the 
bench lets out a protest.   

She senses my presence and speaks without turning
towards me.  "I've always loved this 
place.  When I was six, we were stationed 
here for two months so my father could 
participate in a special training course. We 
went to a Catholic church for Mass, of 
course, but every year they perform Handel's 
Messiah here; my parents decided to bring 
us, all except Charlie, because he was too 
young.  That night is one of my first real 
memories."

Scully continues, "I remember my new blue 
velvet Christmas dress, and being so happy 
that it wasn't a hand-me-down from Missy.  
The performance is very popular, so we had 
to walk quite a way to get to the church.  
It was so cold, and I had to walk behind my 
father, stepping in his footprints, so that 
the snow wouldn't get on my Mary Janes.  We 
walked through the dark night (for what 
seemed like miles to a six-year old) and 
suddenly we could see the church.  In the 
darkness, the church glowed like the North 
Star.  The stained glass shone with so many 
colors...I had never seen so many beautiful 
colors.  I remember my father, standing tall 
in his Naval uniform, taking my hand and 
leading me into the church.  The music was 
wonderful.  I could feel the vibration of 
the organ mixing with the voices, and it 
awakened something in me.  I sat on the edge 
of the pew, amazed that all of those people 
could be singing in perfect harmony and 
time.  It was an incredible experience.  
That night I believed in magic, Mulder."

If I close my eyes, I can picture what 
Scully must have looked like that night as 
she entered the church.  Red hair tied back 
with a shiny blue ribbon the exact color of 
her dress, cheeks red and rosy from the 
cold, a small mouth puckered in an "Oh" of 
amazement as she looks around with wide blue 
eyes.  Her tiny hand would have been secure 
in her father's large hand as they walked to 
a pew.  I can't help but smile at this image 
of child Scully.

Scully makes a small sad smile as she faced 
me.  "Of course, the next day Bill told me 
that there was no such thing as Santa Claus, 
so the magic came to a crashing, horrific 
end.  But I still like to come here, when I 
can, to hear the holiday performance."

I feel a twinge of guilt at this, knowing 
that my quests have often kept her out of 
town during the last few years, and that she 
has had to miss something so important to 
her.  Another connection to her past that I 
have successfully but unknowingly severed.  
I cover this with a bit of levity.  "You 
really believed in magic, Scully?"

"Mulder, every Christian child in America is 
taught to believe that a bearded man from 
the uninhabitable North Pole makes an annual 
trip on December 24th in a flying object 
pulled by reindeer.  And that this portly, 
elderly man can squeeze down a chimney with 
a large bag of gifts and that he can visit 
every house in the world in one night.  This 
story is a myth perpetrated by adults in an 
effort to coerce their children into a 
reasonable bedtime for one night of the 
year.  And I could go on about the Easter 
bunny, and..."

"Do you believe in magic still?"  The words 
are out of my mouth before I could think 
about my question.

Scully turns back to the window.  
"Sometimes, there are moments... I want to 
believe, Mulder.  Despite what you may 
think, I really do."

"Scully, may I ask you something?"

She nods warily.

"When I first came in here, you were looking 
at that window, and I wondered..."  Stop 
babbling you idiot, I tell myself. "What 
were you thinking of?"

Scully was silent for so long I was sure she 
wasn't going to answer me.  Finally she 
speaks.  "Many of the windows contain 
biblical moments that have nautical themes.   
Others display historical Naval moments.  
This window is of David Farragut, the Navy's 
first admiral, leading the attack at Mobile 
Bay lashed to the rigging of his ship.  He 
is best known for his quote"

"Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead," I 
quote simultaneously with Scully, and I am 
rewarded with a full-wattage smile.

Silence reigns again for several moments.  
It's not uncomfortable, as most people would 
have you believe.  Scully and I communicate 
as much with silence as we do verbally.  
This is a thoughtful silence, and I know 
it's because the answer is important to her, 
and she wants the right words to convey her 
message.  

When she speaks, her voice is quiet.  "I've 
always thought of you as a crusader, Mulder, 
but when I saw this window, and recalling 
Farragut's infamous quote...I was thinking of 
you, and how passionate you are as you 
battle government conspiracies, alien 
invasions...and he reminded me of you, willing 
to risk everything, even his own life, for 
what he believed in."

Scully could have continued for hours, but I 
wouldn't have been able to tell you what she 
said.  I hear "thinking of you" and it 
reverberates in my head and my heart.   I 
would only risk everything for you, Scully.  

The slight gasp from Scully tells me I must 
have shared that thought aloud.  Damn.  I 
suddenly realize what interesting woodwork 
there is on the floor as I studiously 
examine my feet.  I hear her heels clicking 
as she steps.  When I see the toe of the 
black pumps a few inches from my shoes, I 
finally find the courage to raise my head 
and meet her eyes.  What I see there warms 
me.  I see joy, relief, a slight 
trepidation, but most of all love.  It's 
true, I think.  That jackass Padgett was 
right.  Agent Scully is already in love.  
I've hoped, thought, even half-convinced 
myself that there was a possibility he was 
talking about me, but I didn't truly believe 
it until this moment.  I can't help it as a 
goofy grin takes residence on my face.  

Scully surprises me by throwing my own 
question back at me.  "Do you believe in 
magic, Mulder?"

I stand and reach for her hand. "I do now." 
Scully smiles full-blown again as she 
squeezes my hand.

We walk hand-in-hand to the door, both of us 
stealing shy glances at each other.  As we 
step into the sunshine together, Scully 
stops.  She opens her mouth as if to say 
something, closes it, and then touches my 
face gently.  "I believe, Mulder.  I believe 
in us."

I lean forward and kiss her tenderly on the 
lips.  You would think after six years of 
innuendoes and repressed sexual desires that 
this kiss would be a first step of the 
bedroom tango, but the kiss was short, 
sweet, and chaste, full of the promise of 
things to come. 

"I've always believed in us, Scully.  And we 
always will."

"Yes.  We always will."