Title: Coeur De La Mer (Heart of the Ocean) (1/1)
Authors: Tammy M. Parnell and Anonymous
Rating: PG-13
Category: SRC
Keywords: UST/MSR, XF/Titanic crossover
Spoilers: Fire, WOTC, TFWID, Quagmire, One Breath, End Game, Memento Mori
Summary: An unbelievable invention lands Mulder and Scully in deep water
Disclaimer: The "X-Files" are not ours.  They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 
Productions, Fox Television, and the actors who portray them. The feature film, 
"Titanic," is James Cameron's creation. The characters and situations are used 
without permission. No infringement is intended.
Authors' Notes: Here's Emily (MrsSpooky3@aol.com): This is my first fanfic, and 
I love "Titanic." Oh yeah, also, I had a good time writing it, even though it 
took us awhile. One more thing: I like flames the same way I like Krycek. Next? 
Tammy here (LaLapine@aol.com): It was a great idea Emily had to write a story 
from "Titanic." This is my first time working on a story with another 'phile. 
It's a nice change... new ideas and scenes you wouldn't have thought of. Hope 
everyone enjoys our collaboration... And let us know if you do! Please e-mail 
both of us with any comments. 


Coeur De La Mer 
by Tammy M. Parnell and Anonymous


Present Day
Washington DC

"I hope this doesn't take too long." Dana Scully shuffled in the passenger seat 
of her partner's Taurus as she looked at the Saturday morning tourists flocking 
around the Washington Monument. "Who did you say this guy was?"

"Dr. Harold Wockenfuss. He's been studying molecular biology and chemical 
engineering for over thirty years. He's patented a few inventions along the way, 
but nothing that really caught on."

"And he called you because...?"

"It's a surprise, Scully." He kept his eyes dutifully on the road, purposely 
missing THE LOOK he was so accustomed to.

"It's my day off, Mulder. I have a doctor's appointment at 3:30."

He glanced at her quickly. "Are you okay?"

Her tone relented at his concern, and she assured him, "I'm fine. It's just the 
usual follow-up. But I've had to postpone it twice already because of work, and 
I really shouldn't miss it again."

He relaxed at her words, thankful no signs of the cancer had returned, as he 
merged onto the freeway. "It's about a half-hour to the good doctor's lab. If 
it's a hoax, it shouldn't take too long."

"And if it's not?"

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what his latest invention was."

She looked at him expectantly. 

He winced slightly as he said the words, "He said he invented a time machine."

No answer. He glanced at her hesitantly. She was slowly shaking her head as she 
stared out the window. Well, at least she wasn't yelling at him--yet.

The rest of the drive went on in silence. When Mulder finally pulled up in front 
of the old warehouse, Scully broke the quiet.

"This is his lab?" she asked in disbelief.

"He's been having trouble finding funding lately," he explained.

"I'll bet."

Mulder led the way into the dilapidated building. "Dr. Wockenfuss?" he called 
out.

"In here," a muffled voice responded. The agents walked past cobwebbed equipment 
and dusty tables to find a fairly clean office with strange gadgets hanging 
along the walls and sitting on shelves.

"Dr. Wockenfuss. I'm Agent Mulder," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. 
"And this is my partner, Agent Scully." 

The balding man looked up from his microscope to shake Mulder's hand and return 
Scully's cordial nod. "You wonder why your partner dragged you here, eh?" he 
observed.

"With all due respect, sir, I fail to see how you could develop the technology 
to send people back and forth through time. It just isn't possible."

"Ah, but I do have proof, Agent Scully," the gray-haired scientist said 
mysteriously. "Follow me."

Mulder motioned for his partner to go ahead, and she did so reluctantly, 
wondering how long it would be before she could go home. Why had she come in the 
first place? She couldn't help but smile at the memory of Mulder's enthusiasm 
when he'd knocked at her door that morning. Even though she hadn't known exactly 
what this was about, she hadn't been able to refuse him. Besides, he'd promised 
it would only take a couple of hours. And spending time with her partner wasn't 
the worst way to spend a Saturday.

"This, Agents Mulder and Scully, is BETSY," Dr. Wockenfuss interrupted her 
thoughts as he proudly pointed to a tall metal box, dials and switches running 
along the sides. "Isn't she a beauty?"

"What does BETSY stand for?" Scully inquired.

"Oh, it's not an acronym. I named it after my late wife. Shall we give it a 
try?"

Scully tried to catch her partner's eye, but he was purposely avoiding her 
glance, pretending to be very interested in the nearby equipment. "How do we 
test it?" he asked the doctor.

"With one of these little critters here," he answered. He took a small white 
mouse from a cage of a dozen and put him inside the contraption. Pressing 
buttons and manipulating switches caused an airtight door to seal the critter 
inside. "Why don't we send him to England during the time that cats were 
worshipped? He can make a tasty morsel for some royal feline." 

Scully rubbed her temples, glaring at her partner who kept his face from her, 
himself beginning to wonder why he had dragged them out there in the first 
place. He smiled in spite of himself. He'd known the reaction he'd get from his 
partner when he'd mentioned time travel and had been looking forward to a day of 
teasing her with odd theories and having her shoot them all down with practiced 
ease. They'd had too many run-of-the-mill cases lately, and he'd wanted to get 
back on track to their department. Not to mention he'd wanted to spend some time 
with her, maybe even have lunch after this show was over. It seemed all they 
ever did was work. It would be nice to spend some personal time together for a 
change.

A bright flash of light snapped him out of his reverie as smoke billowed around 
the machine. Scully tried not to cough as Dr. Wockenfuss opened the small window 
in his lab.

"Sorry about that," he said quickly. "There are a few bugs I'm trying to work 
out of it, but this is actually a big improvement from what it was last week."

"Where's the mouse?" Scully cut to the point.

"Oh, the mouse. Right. Well, he's just where I said he'd be." The smoke had 
pretty well cleared, and the scientist unsealed the machine. "All gone," he said 
proudly.

Mulder and Scully looked intently for the little creature, but there was no 
sign. 

"The smoke probably killed him," Scully muttered, clearing her throat of the 
grimy smell.

"There's no body," Mulder pointed out.

"Well, then he crawled out in some escape hatch. Come on, Mulder. Disappearing 
people and billowing smoke play large parts in magic shows."

"You don't believe me?" Dr. Wockenfuss questioned.

"No, sir, I'm afraid I don't," Scully answered, hoping they could leave.

"Well, then, I suppose the only way you'll believe me is if you experience it 
yourself."

She exchanged a glance with her partner. Mulder asked, "You want us to get in 
that thing?"

"Exactly," he answered. "Then you will see just how true this is. Step on in."

"It's airtight," Scully pointed out. "We'll suffocate."

"Oh no. By the time you're at your destination, you'll be just fine."

Mulder shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the small space. "Come on, 
Scully. Maybe we can play Twister."

"You've got to be kidding me." She sighed as the doctor motioned for her to join 
her partner. "Fine. Then we go," she insisted as she squeezed in next to Mulder.

"Where to?" Dr. Wockenfuss asked.

"Anywhere we don't end up as cat food," Scully muttered.

Mulder grinned. "Someplace we can make a difference."

"Allrighty. I'll seal the door now. You  may experience some discomfort, but it 
shouldn't last long. Have a good trip." The door shut, and Scully turned to her 
partner.

"I do hope he's planning to let us out before we run out of air."

"Don't worry, Scully. The Gunmen did a check on him. He's fine. A little 
eccentric, maybe."

"Why are you humoring him?"

"Who says I'm humoring him?"

"Mulder..."

"The mouse, Scully."

"I can't believe you--" she was cut off by a sudden sensation pulsating through 
her body and a bright light blinding them to their surroundings. Smoke filled 
their nostrils, and they began to feel faint. Scully grasped for Mulder's hand, 
and they held on to each other, fighting to stay conscience and willing the 
sensation to stop. 

Finally their breath came back to them, and they loosened their grip on each 
other's hand. The smoke cleared some, but it filled their nostrils with the 
scent of the sea rather than that of old motor oil they had smelled from the 
outside of the machine. A breeze tickled their faces, and they realized they 
were no longer in the small contraption but rather on a deck of sorts. Scully 
took a deep breath and looked at her partner. He smiled slightly as he looked 
around. 

"Something tells me we're not in Kansas anymore," he cracked.

"Cute, Mulder. Where the hell are we?"

"On a boat?" he ventured.

"What was your first clue, Sherlock?" She sighed deeply then touched his arm. 
"I'm sorry, Mulder."

"It's okay. We just need to figure out where we are."

"I guess Dr. Wockenfuss wasn't as trustworthy as you thought he was."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, it's obvious, Mulder, that he must have drugged us and brought us here."

"We were conscious the whole time."

"We don't know that for sure. Besides, how else do you explain it?"

He smiled in that excited little boy way that he had. They were walking along 
the deserted deck of an obviously huge ship, but now they had neared the front 
of the vessel, near the dock, and could see hundreds of people waving from the 
railings to their loved ones on ground.

"Check out those clothes, Scully."

She turned her eyes to the many men, women, and children on board and 
immediately felt like she was in a Shirley Temple movie.

Mulder leaned close to her ear. "Guess we should have asked the good doctor how 
to return to the present time."

She looked at him impatiently. "It's an act," she said, but her voice lacked 
conviction. She continued to rationalize, hoping one of them would buy it. 
"Mulder, it's not possible. This must be an elaborate hoax to discredit us. 
Maybe he's in league with the consortium."

"Scully, this is not 1998."

"Then what year is it?"

Mulder glanced around, and a look of awe crossed his features. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"I never expected it to be like this. It's so big."

"What?" she asked impatiently, following his gaze. A large sign about the vessel 
adorned the railing near the front of the ship. "No," she insisted. "This can't 
be happening."

"It is, Scully. It really is." They walked closer to the sign, passing some very 
well-dressed gentlemen who looked at them with condescending stares. The agents 
observed their dress just as curiously and heard one of the men mutter something 
about third-class passengers not knowing their place.

"He looks like something out of a history book," Scully observed. "And acts like 
it."

"That's because he is."

"But why here?"

"I told Wockenfuss to send us someplace where we could make a difference."

"To change history."

"Exactly. We have to warn them about the iceberg."

"And I suppose you're going to walk up to the captain, tell him we're visitors 
from the future, and that he needs to change his course?"

"Somehow, yes. If we can save all of these innocent people, Scully, isn't it 
worth a shot?"

"That's rewriting history, Mulder."

"For the better," he pointed out as he approached the shiny new sign. His right 
index finger slowly traced the large bold letters of the ship's name: TITANIC.

***

April 12, 1912
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean

"So, Scully, now what?" Wandering around the ship had earned them only curious 
stares, and Mulder was anxious to *do* something. Besides, he wanted something 
to occupy his mind aside from worrying about how they were going to find their 
way back home.

"How am *I* supposed to know, Mulder?!" she snapped at him in frustration. "This 
is *your* fault, not mine. You figure out what we should do." She glared at an 
older man who quickly looked away, and she muttered to herself, "I can't believe 
this... This is the worst damn thing you've ever gotten us into, and if we get 
off alive, I swear--"

"Calm down, Scully," Mulder said with a confidence he didn't feel. "We're 
traveling on the finest ship in the world--"

"Which sank, more than eighty years ago! Mulder, think reasonably. Please," she 
added in a softer tone, trying to keep her emotions in check and return to her 
normally stoic self. "We can't possibly--"

Mulder looked into her eyes and grabbed her close. "Shut up, Scully."

Scully felt his arms wrap snugly around her body, and she froze. Somehow she 
couldn't find her voice to yell at him as he lifted her so that her feet touched 
the bottom rail overlooking the ocean. His body pressed up behind her as his 
hands ran along her arms, stretching them far out to the sides. Sudden warmth 
enveloped her body as her eyes closed to savor the unsettling sensation his 
actions were inspiring.

He leaned his face in close, his breath tickling her neck as he whispered in her 
ear, "We're flying, Scully."

***

Later that afternoon

Mulder had decided to talk with the captain, so Scully, wanting to avoid the 
inevitable embarrassment, voted to take a walk to collect her thoughts.

Damn, she thought to herself. How did I get here? Oh, right, I forgot. Following 
Mulder, and now I'm going to sink in a ship that already sank! 

She was so deep in thought, she no longer noticed the strange looks from the 
other passengers. She certainly was an anomaly for that period of time. Most 
looked down at her as a third-class passenger who was out of place; some looked 
at her and thought she was crazy. But when Rose Bukater saw her, she thought, 
wow.

Two arms snaked around Scully's waist and lifted her up. 

"Guess who?" a familiar voice asked, the tone giving away his obvious enjoyment 
at catching her off guard.

"Mulder! Put me down," she demanded, using anger to cover her surprise.

Mulder sighed, knowing it was more than the element of surprise that he enjoyed. 
"Fine. You're no fun," he said, keeping the tone light. "And here I am, all by 
myself..."

"What happened with the captain?" she interrupted, eager to return to business.

"I told him to listen carefully... that this would sound strange, but--"

"Did he listen?"

"Nope." 

Scully spoke, exasperated. "Mulder, this ship is going to sink in a few days. We 
will sink with it, we will die... And worst off, this is the most ridiculous 
place to travel back in time. Why couldn't we go back in time somewhere else? 
How about Hawaii, or--?"

"Scully, it doesn't matter. We're here to make a difference--"

"Mulder, no one will listen to us!" She sighed in frustration and decided she 
needed more time to herself. "Right now, I'm leaving you. I'm going to find 
somewhere to calm down, and I'll see you later."

Scully headed off, leaving Mulder completely confused and feeling somewhat 
empty.

***

Mulder was walking around, getting a feel for his surroundings. He liked being 
able to sail and not be seasick for a change. So he enjoyed himself thoroughly, 
walking around and watching people. 

He came across a curious young man, staring out at the sea, but drawing 
magnificently. Mulder sat down next to him.

"That's a great sketch," he observed.

The young man looked up at Mulder. "Hey, thanks. Not everybody thinks so."

Mulder shrugged. "Art is different to everyone. Oh, uh, Fox Mulder." He reached 
out his hand.

The young man shook it, then stared out at the ocean again. "Jack Dawson."

Jack suddenly looked up, almost magnetically, and saw a gorgeous redhead staring 
back at him.

Mulder finally saw what he was looking at.

Well, I know we have the same taste in women, Mulder thought wryly. Whoa! Where 
the hell did that come from? he thought again, but realized Jack was speaking.

"So, Fox, where are you from?"

He felt the urge to tell this kid not to call him that, but he fought it. 
"Washington. How 'bout you?"

Jack smiled. "Well, I pretty much live wherever I can."

Yeah, right, kid, was all Mulder could think of. Mulder glanced at his watch. He 
thought he'd better find Scully. Considering the way the men of the ship were 
treating her, lord knows what trouble she may have gotten herself into... "Jack, 
it was nice to meet you. I'll see you around."

"Yeah, Fox, good to meet you."

Mulder walked away, thinking of *his* redhead...

***

"Excuse me, miss?"

Scully looked curiously at the pretty, young redhead that had approached her. 
"Yes?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your talk with your husband--"

Scully blushed. "He's not my husband," she quickly corrected. "And what exactly 
did you overhear?" Her voice held apprehension that the stranger suspected 
something was wrong with their being on board.

The girl smiled in reassurance. "I didn't overhear your conversation. I just 
heard you two yelling at each other. And Cal and I get that way all the time. If 
you don't mind my asking, who is he? Your fiance?" 

Scully laughed at the thought of Mulder being her fiance--or husband. She 
stopped laughing. "No. He's just a good friend of mine." 

The girl smiled. "I'm terribly rude. I'm Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater."

Scully smiled. "I'm Scu--Dana. Dana Scully."

"Well, Dana. I must know, and please, may I ask if, well, I don't mean to be 
rude, but if you don't mind, may I ask--"

"Rose, ask me the question. Whatever it is, you don't have to ask to make a 
question. That's ridiculous." Scully realized that it was a different society 
that she was in, but some things, such as the inferior treatment of women, were 
hard to sit back and swallow. Besides, no one in their right mind would ever 
guess that her convictions were built from growing up in the era of "women's 
liberation." She wasn't about to let anyone treat her as a second-class citizen, 
and she wasn't going to conceal her attitudes to match those of her feminine 
counterparts.

Rose pondered her statement for a moment and walked over to the railing, staring 
down at the many people on board. A handsome young man caught her attention, and 
she smiled as she observed him, unnoticed. "Why are you dressed like that? I 
mean it's hardly proper..."

Scully snorted in spite of herself. "Proper? Well, this is how I dress 
everyday."

Rose gasped. "In slacks and a man's jacket? Surely your mother doesn't--"

"Rose, my mother doesn't control me. I decide what I wear everyday." Scully 
smiled at the thought of her mother still picking out her clothes like she did 
when she was in kindergarten.
 
It took her a minute to realize that Rose was years younger than she thought, 
probably in her early twenties, not to mention of an obviously high class. She 
smiled slightly to herself, imagining that at the ripe old age of thirty-three, 
she was probably considered an old maid. 

Scully finally noticed who Rose was staring at.

"Is that Cal?"

I wish, she murmured under her breath, a slow blush creeping into her pale 
cheeks. "No. I don't know him, but he's... um..."

Rose mentally slapped herself. You're an engaged young woman who is in love with 
her fiance! ...who just happens to be the biggest scoundrel you've met in your 
entire life. And you can't help but stare at that darling third-class 
passenger...

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it?" she asked, deciding not to correct the formality again.

"Have you been in love before?"

Scully gulped. Hmm, she thought, not really 'in love'. I've loved people, but 
I've never been 'in love'...

But then she thought of a certain male who got her into this damned mess. Yes, 
she did love him. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, she certainly was 
in love with him. She just wasn't sure how much... and if he felt the same...

"Yes," she admitted. "Why?"

"How does it feel to be in love?"

Of of all the questions in this damned world, she picks the hardest! Well, Dana 
rationalized, considering she's engaged--and doesn't seem to be very enthused 
about it--I guess it's hardly something she can ask her mother.

"It's different for everyone," she hedged.

"But I mean for you, Dana. For you."

Here goes nothing...

"Rose, when you're in love with someone,  it's complicated. Nothing is easy, and 
the more time you spend with a person, hopefully, the more that you see the good 
in him and want to spend the rest of your life with him."

Scully tried to think where she had heard that, and decided television, so she 
didn't have to worry about Rose knowing where it was from.

"Really?" She smiled at her nod. "Then I'm not in love with Cal."

Scully looked startled. 

"Please don't tell anyone. Especially my mother. Especially Cal..."

"Then why are you marrying him? You could be happier doing something you want. 
Concentrate on your career--"

Scully noticed how green she turned when she heard that. Oh yeah, she 
remembered, it's 1912. A woman's job is to stay at home and raise a family. She 
cringed inwardly at the thought. The poor girl probably never worked a day in 
her life, she realized, trying a different approach.

"Or, Rose, marrying someone you love..."

Rose was silent. So was Scully.

Their silence was interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice. "Yo, Scully! I 
mean... Scully, come here!" Mulder shouted very loudly, drawing the attention of 
several other passengers as he stood near the railing.

Rose smirked. "Speaking of those we love..."

Scully quickly turned to see if Mulder had heard her. "Rose!" she admonished, 
though failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Shhh!" Scully insisted as Mulder gave up waiting and jogged towards them.

He smiled at the women and said with sarcasm, "Thanks for coming over."

"Shut up, Mulder. This is Rose."

"Rose... nice to meet you. I'm... Fox." He took her hand and kissed it lightly.

Scully's mouth dropped open as she tried not to totally explode from Mulder's 
words. 

"Hi Fox," Rose answered, curious about his unusual name, and wondering what her 
mother would think of her for speaking with a complete stranger so informally.

"Boy, put a man on a ship and he's suddenly so courteous, so suave..." Scully 
mumbled to her partner.

"Shut up, Scully," he whispered, turning his attention back to her companion 
with an evil grin. "So, Rose, what do think of ol' Scully, over here? Little bit 
too confident, don't you think? You know, I once--OW!"

Scully hit him, maybe too hard, on the back. "Oohh, Mulder," she said in mock 
sympathy, "you're gonna have a big bruise." She couldn't help but grin at his 
somewhat pained expression. 

You deserved it and you know it, her smug face told him.

His silence admitted to his guilt.

Rose was amused at their antics and asked, "Dana and Fox, would you join my 
family and me for dinner tomorrow night? I certainly think that you two will 
make the meal all the more exciting."

Scully laughed in spite of her partner's annoying behavior, and Mulder just 
smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. Scully answered for him, since he 
was still in pain. "Sure. We'll be there."

Mulder smiled through his pain, deciding Scully would pay later for his 
pounding. He said his farewells and sauntered off, looking for some adventure.

"Rose, it was wonderful to meet you. I'm sure we'll see each other again--"

"Dana, why don't you come to lunch with me? You can meet Mom and Cal."

Yeah, Scully thought bitterly, that sounds great... "Uh, sure, Rose."

***

Scully sat there, listening to everyone talk. She was still taking in the 
experience of being on this gorgeous ship, knowing that she couldn't tell anyone 
what would happen soon.

Where is Mulder? she thought. He has to be here somewhere. He said he would talk 
with the captain again, but that was a few hours ago. So now she was sitting 
here with Rose and her company, listening to everyone chat of nothing, and Rose 
looking as bored as Scully felt.

"Rose, you know how I don't like when you smoke," Mrs. Bukater reprimanded 
quietly.

Scully noticed how proper Rose seemed most of the time, but recognized that she 
was a wild spirit who needed to be freed. It wasn't right for her to marry Cal, 
and Rose knew it. She needed someone to help her, someone to confide in, and 
that should be her mother. But Mrs. Bukater seems so cold and distant towards 
her daughter, it's a miracle that Rose is so friendly, Scully thought.

Rose lit her cigarette anyway, defying her mother like a proper teenager should.

"I know." With that, Rose blew smoke in her mother's face.

Even though Scully disapproved of smoking, she saw that this was an act of 
rebellion, and nothing more, so she smiled knowingly, remembering a time when 
she had rebelled from her parents--joining the FBI, for one.

"Of course she does." Cal pulled the cigarette from its holder and stamped it 
out on the plate.

With the holder still in her mouth, Rose shot daggers of anger at her fiance, 
but said nothing.

"So, Dana, where are you from?" Mrs. Bukater's voice sounded accusing and 
slightly demeaning.

"Right now, I'm living near Washington--"

Mrs. Bukater sighed with relief. Her father was probably some important head of 
state.

"But it's only because of work..." As the words fell out of Scully's mouth, she 
knew they were wrong.

Mrs. Bukater's eyes were cold and hard. "Work? You--work? Doing what, may I 
ask?"

Scully smiled, trying to think of something to say besides, Well, I work for the 
FBI... "Uh... I... uh..."

"What will you be having, miss?"

Whew, Scully thought. Saved by the waiter.

Cal's voice rang out with dominance, which was really beginning to anger Scully.

"We'll have the lamb with mint jelly. You like lamb right sweetpea?" Rose merely 
sneered, but shot a smile at Scully.

"So, you gonna cut her meat for her, too, there, Cal?" Molly Brown stated 
loudly.

Scully smiled at her very on-the-mark comment. She was trying to believe that 
she was sitting next to the 'Unsinkable Molly Brown,' but it wasn't working. 
This was too surreal.

Cal smiled at Mrs. Brown, but Scully could tell what he was *really* thinking. 

The men at the table were discussing something, Scully noted. I suppose I should 
listen, but then again, I really don't care, she thought. But she did catch the 
end.

"...wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury... and safety-
-" the man named Ismay rambled on.

"Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size 
might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay," Rose quipped with fire in 
her eyes, then promptly stormed out, leaving six bewildered people behind her. 

"I do apologize," Ruth said quietly, upset what other passengers were thinking 
of her family. 

"She's a pistol, Cal. You sure you can handle her?" Molly  remarked. 

"Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on." Cal retorted, 
slightly miffed at his fiance's quick departure.

Scully turned pale. Is this how these people lived? In that case, she was 
tremendously glad to live in the nineties--if she still lived there. "Excuse me, 
Mrs. Bukater, Mr. Ismay, Mrs. Brown. I feel I should check on Rose, and I 
suddenly feel very--ill." 

***

Night fell quickly upon the Titanic, icy waters swirling recklessly through its 
propellers. Those passengers of a high social standing had enjoyed five-course 
meals, music, and formal dancing to celebrate their first night on board. It 
could be argued, though, that those without a definitive pedigree had the best 
time, laughing and joking over beer, poker, and rowdy music. 

While Rose was of the former standing and Jack of the latter, Mulder and Scully 
found themselves sorely out of place. A quick meal in one of the casual dining 
rooms left them to wonder where they would stay the night. A visit with the 
captain about having lost their luggage and tickets to go along with it only 
gave the crew more reason to find them suspicious. Captain Smith had informed 
them that no rooms were vacant, and they would just have to "rough it."

Scully had walked tight-lipped from the room with Mulder at her heels and made 
her way to the fresh sea air, finding comfort from the memory of her father that 
the scent inspired. She shivered slightly as she looked up at the dark, clear 
sky.

"Cold?" Mulder asked gently as he stood by her side.

She eyed him suspiciously, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. "A little," 
she answered, turning her attention back to the ocean.

Mulder removed his jacket and set it on her shoulders with a slight grin. She 
shook her head lightly, accepting the gesture, but she couldn't resist 
commenting, "Always the gentleman, right, Mulder?"

His grin spread wider. "I was just teasing you," he said, referring to their 
meeting with Rose.

"I know," she smiled back, their gazes holding intently until Scully finally 
looked away, feeling suddenly warm. "This night is beautiful, Mulder," she said, 
changing the subject. "Truly gorgeous. And magically," she teased, "you're not 
seasick."

He imitated the famous DanaScullyLook, and she tried to hide a smile.

Wordlessly, they began to wander around the moon-filled deck, till they reached 
the back of the ship.

Scully suddenly stopped, turning pale.

"Hey, Scully? What's the matter?" Mulder asked in concern.

"That's Rose," she answered shakily. "With that boy I saw today."

Mulder was puzzled, straining to see them, realizing it was the same boy he had 
met earlier. He just decided not to tell Scully. "So? What's so bad about that? 
She looks old enough to have a 'gentleman caller'."

Scully shoved off his stupid phraseology. "She looks like she's jumping off the 
boat."

"Scully, I think you need to have your eyes checked. He's obviously helping her-
-"

"Mulder, she's falling!"

She started running to Rose, but he pulled her back.

"What are you doing, Mulder? I want to help her, she needs me..."

Mulder nodded towards Rose, and Scully followed his gaze--Rose was already safe-
-underneath the boy.

"What was I saying about having your eyes checked, Scully? She's not falling... 
not at all..." When she didn't respond, he continued, "Don't worry; she's fine. 
And having better luck than me. Look, here come some people. It looks like her 
brother, or someone."

Rose was laughing at having slipped on her way back to safety, knocking her 
helper to the deck.  A high-pitched squeal had escaped from her lips during the 
incident, drawing attention to their little predicament, and now her fiance and 
several other gentlemen were rushing to her side.

Unfortunately, considering that the young man, Jack Dawson, was pinned over 
Rose, there was a slight misunderstanding as to why she had screamed. All was 
straightened out with a little white lie about slipping on the deck, and Jack 
was invited to dinner the next evening as appreciation, though it was obvious 
that Rose's fiance was not thrilled with this plan.

The decks cleared, leaving the two agents alone once again to ponder what had 
happened.

"I didn't realize she felt that desperate," Scully said quietly.

"How could you have known?" Mulder soothed, deciding that his usual dark humor 
was not what she needed at the moment.

"I knew she was unhappy, but..."

"If she had jumped, it wouldn't have been your fault."

Scully's sea-blue eyes searched Mulder's warm brown ones, and she sighed in 
resignation. "I know." 

He squeezed her shoulder slightly, and she said thoughtfully, "I know this is 
going to sound strange--"

"You're saying that to me?" he grinned.

She gave him one of her million-watt ScullySmiles before continuing. "Rose seems 
familiar to me somehow."

Mulder was deciding whether or not to make a crack about past lives when he 
heard footsteps approach them. Rose was walking up to the railing where she had 
almost jumped.

"Rose?" Scully said quickly, a hint of worry in her voice as she approached the 
young woman.

"Hi Dana," she smiled in greeting. "Fox."

"Are you okay?" Scully asked with concern.

Rose's face paled slightly, afraid they had witnessed her near-jump. "I'm fine," 
she said a bit nervously. "I just forgot my shawl," she explained, leaning down 
to pick up the object in question. "I was out here for a walk and... you know, 
don't you? You saw."

"Rose, it can never be that bad," Scully said gently.

Rose looked down, embarrassed. "It certainly feels that way sometimes." She 
looked up again, a smile on her face. "I feel much better now. Jack was right; I 
didn't really want to jump."

"Jack?" Mulder asked, a knowing grin on his face.

"Jack Dawson. He's a very nice boy," Rose added. "You two can meet him tomorrow 
night at dinner. He'll be joining us as well. This will definitely be an 
interesting meal." She glanced over her shoulder. "I'd better get back. They'll 
be worried about me."

"Where should we meet you?" Scully asked, wondering not only how out of place 
they would feel because of the style of their clothing, but also because they 
would be wearing the same outfit as the day before.

"Well, why don't I just meet you in front of your rooms?" Rose offered.

Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

Scully shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to lie. Mulder cleared his throat. "It 
seems there was some mixup with our luggage and tickets... we don't know where 
our rooms are, and the captain wasn't very willing to believe us."

"Well, maybe if I talked to him--" Rose began.

"No," Scully interrupted. "I'm afraid all the rooms are full."

"Oh, I guess they would be," Rose realized, knowing that tickets for this voyage 
had not only been expensive but also hard to come by. No doubt every room was 
accounted for. She smiled with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing to worry 
about. We have an extra sitting room you can use."

"Are you sure?" Scully asked hopefully, unwilling to intrude but even less 
willing to spend a night outdoors in the chilly Atlantic air.

"Don't be silly; of course I'm sure. Mother won't mind. Come on," she motioned 
for them to follow her. Mulder grinned at Scully as if to tell her that 
everything would work out, but she ignored him, not wanting him to forget whose 
fault it was that they were there in the first place.

As she was about to open one of the doors down a long corridor, she winked at 
Scully and said, "You might want to tell Mother you're married, though; it 
wouldn't be proper for you two to share a room otherwise, you know."

Mulder couldn't suppress a smile, but Scully tried her best not to look at her 
partner; she was sure she was blushing and wasn't about to give him the 
satisfaction of seeing it.

Cursory introductions were made, and Rose showed her new friends to the small, 
sparsely furnished room. "We reserved it only so we wouldn't have to have 
strangers so close by," she explained. "Mother says we can never be too 
careful."

"I don't think she approved of us," Scully commented.

"Oh, she's harmless," Rose laughed. " She's still trying to figure you out. Your 
clothes are strange, and she can't tell what kind of background you have. But 
that's okay. I'm sure her impression of you will change tomorrow at dinner."

"Um..." Scully began.

Rose's face suddenly registered the problem. "You don't have your luggage. Don't 
worry; we have plenty of extra clothes around here. Just get some sleep, and 
I'll see you in the morning."

"Thank you so much, Rose," Scully said. "Good night."

"Good night, Rose," Mulder added.

"Sleep tight," she smiled, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Scully looked at Mulder as if deciding how to act.

"Tomorrow is a new day," he said hopefully.

"One day closer to sinking," she reminded him as she removed her small heels and 
sat on the couch. "Why did I wear these damned things on a Saturday anyway?" 

"You should know by now to be prepared whenever you're with Spooky Mulder," he 
commented, sitting beside her.

"I *was* prepared. I had everything I might need--in the car."

"What's a car?"

She hit him lightly on the leg. "They have cars."

"That's great, Scully!" he said in mock enthusiasm. "Tomorrow let's go rent a 
Taurus and find out how to tow an iceberg."

"Your back still sore, Mulder?" she asked, a warning edge to her voice.

Mulder put on his best pout. "Scully, it really hurt, so could you rub my back?"

Scully snorted. "Yeah, Mulder, then maybe I'll..." Realizing she was just about 
to say something obscene, she quickly shut her mouth. "Good night, Mulder." She 
laid down and closed her eyes.

Mulder sighed sleepily and reached over to turn off the kerosene lamp. Carefully 
he positioned himself behind his partner, whose back was to the back of the 
couch as she slept on her side. An arm fell around her stomach, and the other 
rested above her head. A boyish grin lit up his face as he gently brought his 
lips down to her cheek. They lingered there much longer than necessary before he 
pulled away and whispered against her ear, "Good night, Scully."

After he had settled his head against the pillow, Scully grinned herself. "Good 
night, Mulder."

He froze for a moment, then relaxed as he felt her hand find his and squeeze it 
gently. He squeezed back and closed his eyes. He could think of worse ways to 
spend a Saturday night.

***

April 13, 1912

As the two agents made their way from the sitting room where they had spent the 
night, they bantered back and forth like they would have talked over an x-file 
back in their basement office.

"Mulder, I'm being serious!" Scully insisted as they walked along the deck, 
nearly vacant as most passengers were having their morning meal.

Mulder smiled; he knew she was, but she always looked so damn *cute* when she 
was annoyed with him. "I know, I know, the ship is sinking. But since we can't 
do anything to stop it, don't you think it's more important to get two people 
together?"

Scully was exasperated. "Mulder! You're a hopeless romantic!" She had meant that 
to sound reprimanding, but instead, she sounded like she was okay with his plot 
for Jack and Rose. 

Mulder's plan was simple: Get Cal out of the way to let Jack and Rose be alone 
for a little while. Their true feelings would come out, and *BAM* romance!  

Scully, of course, thought he was ridiculous. She was aware that Rose was 
unhappy, but she knew it was not her place to interfere. Mulder, on the other 
hand, thought two destined souls belonged together, yadda, yadda, yadda. It 
sounded all too reminiscent of a certain confused young woman named Sydney, or 
whoever the hell she was, and Scully was not ready to think that Mulder could be 
forever connected to anyone besides herself.

However, deep down, she wanted Jack and Rose to make it off the boat and live 
happily after after. But she knew there was a greater task at hand, and that was 
making sure hundreds of people did not die.

"Hey, Mulder, listen, I know that--"

"Shhh, Scully, quiet! Here they come!"

Around the corner walked Rose and Jack, laughing about riding horses. They 
acknowledged no one and left quickly.

"Ahh. To be young again, right, Scully?"

"Speak for yourself, Mulder. I'm still young!"

"Hmm, and how would I determine that, Agent Scully?" His voice was teasing, but 
sweet and innocent, to some extent. 

Scully looked at Mulder for maybe the first time. *Really* looked at him. Saw 
his eyes,  saw his soul... And when she saw his soul, she saw no Bambis, Phoebes 
or Sydneys. She she saw herself. Not a reflection, but the most perfect part of 
herself, which is how Mulder saw her. She looked for something, anything else, 
to prove to herself that Mulder wasn't so dependent on her. But then she 
realized what was truly there... A search for the truth, which, at the moment, 
wasn't going too well. A sister lost, maybe to be found. A man struggling with 
so many demons that it was a wonder he hadn't been institutionalized. And his 
saving grace--a petite redhead who had fought death and was struggling with some 
demons of her own. 

"Scully, don't get all Freudian on me." Mulder's deadpan brought her back from 
soul-staring as she quickly looked away.

"Sorry." 
   
***

"Oooh, Dana!"

Scully turned around from watching the breathtaking sunset, acknowledging Rose. 
"Hey, where have you been?"

Rose couldn't contain her happiness. "Oh, with Jack. Did you know that he used 
to live in Paris? It's one of my favorite places, and... Dana, you're not 
dressed for dinner... Tisk, silly me. Come on, let's get you dressed!"

Out of all the things happening to Dana on this strange trip, this was going to 
be her least favorite. Rose looked gorgeous, and so did all women wearing those 
extravagant dresses. 

But Scully really didn't care for... okay, *hated* dressing up like some prom 
queen. Then again, she wouldn't mind it too much, just to see the look on 
Mulder's face when he saw her, dazzling and gorgeous...

***

"You look like a princess, Dana," Rose smiled as she pinned a flower to her 
friend's gown. "Fox will love it."

Dana groaned, adjusting the butterfly clip in her hair. "I'm not trying to 
impress Mulder."

"Whether you're trying to or not, you will. Trust me."

"Oh, and are you putting that extra spray of perfume on for Cal? Or... Jack?" 
she said slyly.

"Enough of *that* talk, Dana. But speaking of Cal, I have to show you this awful 
necklace he bought me." Rose went over to a nearby vault and withdrew a large, 
expensive stone. "He says it used to belong to a king or something. They call it 
'le coeur de la mer.'"

"The heart of the ocean," Dana translated, a familiarity tugging at her mind.

"It's much too heavy to wear. I'd much prefer it to be sized down to a ring or 
something."

"Not nearly as expensive that way."

"Exactly," Rose answered as she returned the necklace to the safe. "Cal is just 
trying to impress everyone. I couldn't care less."

Scully walked slowly towards her, accustoming herself to the new outfit and 
shoes. "That's a Picasso, isn't it?" she asked suddenly, pointing to a nearby 
painting.

"Yes, you've heard of him?" Rose answered in surprise.

"Well, of course I've heard of him. He's--" Oh. Right. He's not famous yet. 
"Well, my father collects his art, actually," she lied.

"Good taste. Cal doesn't agree, though..." She looked up suddenly. "You don't 
talk about your family much."

Dana was caught off guard but shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I guess I should 
say my father used to collect his art... he died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"He was a captain, actually. With the, uh..." Does the Navy exist yet? she 
worried, adding lamely, "With the government." 

"How interesting. We'll have to run that by Mother. It will bring your standing 
up considerably. Your religion will help, too."

"Hm?"

"Your cross."

"Oh." Dana felt for it self-consciously. "My mother gave it to me. It's... it's 
helped me through some tough times."

"I wish I had something like that." She sighed, glancing at the clock that 
rested against he wall. "I wonder how Mrs. Brown is doing with finding clothes 
for Fox and Jack?"

Scully wondered that herself as she glanced in the mirror once more. Rose was 
right; this would definitely be an interesting dinner.

***

Mulder walked down the grand mahogany staircase. He absently ran his fingers 
along the banister, staring up at the large glass dome looming above him. He saw 
Jack standing copying some gentleman near him. He reminded Mulder of himself at 
that age. He never felt comfortable with all the aristocrats of Martha's 
Vineyard, and he looked like Jack did--an outsider. 

Jack's eyes all of a sudden focused on Mulder. Nope, Mulder thought, his 
thoughts are directly behind me. He followed his gaze. 

Rose was astonishing. She was a vision in red and black lace, and made Mulder's 
heart beat a little faster. But then behind her, he saw the woman that made his 
heart stop. Scully looked beautiful, and the worst part was that she was not 
even looking at him. She was smiling at Jack and Rose but then turned her 
attention to the man, all of a sudden, right in front of her.

Scully walked with the poise that she always did. But wearing a corset made her 
walk a little straighter, even though she hated the damn thing. She wore a 
periwinkle silk gown covered with silver lace that trailed behind her, and she 
also wore a huge smirk looking at the awe on Mulder's face.

When Scully finally got to the bottom of the stairs, Mulder mimicked Jack, who 
had already headed into the dining room. He gently grabbed Scully's hand and 
brought it to his lips, watching her eyes. He then softly kissed the white glove 
on her hand.

"Ms. Scully... You're looking... good."

She looked around, then pressed her forehead to Mulder's. "Mulder, you've 
forgotten. That's *Mrs.* Mulder."

Mulder looked slightly off guard, but then caught himself. "Oh, darling, I 
forgot. Forgive me?" He held out his arm.

She took it gracefully, as he led her into the dining room. "Of course, 
sweetheart. You know," she whispered, "you look hot."  

Scully watched Rose and Jack walk together, heads bent towards each other, in a 
conspiratorial way. It reminded her of the time when she was first getting to 
know Mulder. No, she thought. Maybe it was after that. When I first met him, I 
thought he was a jerk. He's still a jerk, she noted, but less of one...
 
Rose suddenly motioned to Scully and Mulder. "Dana, Fox... I'd like you to meet 
Colonel Gracie... J.J. and Madeleine Astor... Benjamin Guggenheim and his," Rose 
winked at them, "companion, Madame Aubert... and Sir Cosmo and Lady Duff Gordon. 
And Dana, you've already met Mr. Ismay, Mrs. Brown, Mother, and Cal."

Everyone shook hands, intrigued by these passengers. Scully pulled Rose aside 
before they sat down. "Rose, stop staring at Jack," she teased mockingly, "or it 
might let on to Cal you're not exactly his wife yet." The end of her message 
came out hard and as a warning. 

"Dana..." She opened her mouth to tell her some high class idea about something.
Instead she gave Scully an evil smile. "I could say the same of you, Dana." With 
that, she sat down. 

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite 
good on this ship," Ruth said, her cold eyes boring into Jack's young features. 

"The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats, " he shot back with gusto. 

Ruth set her face in a stone manner. She turned to Scully, who was secretly 
kicking Mulder under the table for mumbling about how much caviar sucked.

"So, Dana, how long have you and Fox been married?" Scully thought about it, 
ready to make up a number, when Mulder quickly came up with it.

"Six years, in a few weeks." He looked at Scully, who was trying to figure out 
this significance. She realized that today was the thirteenth, which was a week 
away from the first time they ever met. Of course, eighty years premature... And 
they say men forget anniversaries!

Rose looked on with interest. "Six years. That's a long time."

Scully smiled at her, then looked up at Mulder and laced her fingers through 
his. "Longer than you can imagine."

Rose was having trouble looking at Scully and Mulder. She knew they really 
weren't married, but even so, they looked happy. Rose longed to be happy, and 
she knew she could never be happy with Cal. Sure, he was rich, powerful, and 
slightly handsome. But she longed for so much more. To be free and happy. She 
was beginning to long for something else, though. Jack, maybe... Wonderful, she 
thought. Mother is pestering Jack again.

"...find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Ruth quipped at 
Jack.

"Well... it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was 
always talkin' about goin' to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in 
and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand 
you're going to get dealt next. See, my folks died in a fire when I was fifteen, 
and I've been on the road since. Somethin' like that teaches you to take life as 
it comes at you. To make each day count." 

Molly smiled at him. "Well said, Jack." 

Rose raised her glass, looking at Jack. "To making it count." 

To making it count. To making it count. These words were so simple yet as 
complex as any Shakespearian sonnet. Scully was no stranger of this statement. 
Her brush with death had sealed that. After she was given another chance at 
life, she yearned for experiencing everything she hadn't yet done. Ironic that 
now she was going to sink on the Titanic. This certainly was a different 
experience.

All the men got up to retreat into a cloud of cigar smoke and brandy in the 
smoking room. "Joining us, Dawson? You don't want to stay out here with the 
women, do you?" Gracie questioned. 

"No thanks. I'm heading back."

Cal asked, "How about you, Mulder? Join us?"

"Sorry, I'll pass. I'm not really one for smoking." He looked over at Scully and 
smiled.
"We're going to walk around. It was nice meeting everyone." Mulder pulled Scully 
out of her chair, and they said their good-byes.  

"You've been awfully quiet, Mulder," Scully observed once they were outside, 
away from the crowd. "I'm surprised you didn't want to join the men for their 
little boasting party. You okay?" 

Mulder looked over at her. "I'm not really comfortable in there. Too much wealth 
and power for me."

Scully smiled ruefully. "As a captain's daughter, I had to be like Rose. 
Impeccable manners. You know, sit up straight, don't speak loudly... and the 
most important..."

"What?"

She leaned into his face. "Never invite a bad boy to dinner." 

***

Though her breathing was steady, Mulder could tell his partner had not yet 
drifted off to sleep. He shuffled beside her and said, "I'm supposed to be the 
insomniac, Scully."

She smiled tiredly as she stifled a yawn. "You are."

When she didn't elaborate, he rested his head on his elbow and asked, "Are you 
worried?"

She turned to give him THE LOOK, and he grinned sheepishly. "Okay, okay. I'm 
worried, too. But I get the feeling there's something besides the obvious that's 
bothering you."

She rolled over on her back to face him looking down at her. "Your insight into 
human behavior is beginning to scare me, Mulder."

"Almost spooky, aren't I?"

"Mulder... I know you didn't believe me before when I told you this, but Rose 
seems very familiar."

He surprised her with his next comment. "Does she remind you of your sister?"

"Missy? No... well, maybe a little, but... no. It's different than that."

"How?"

"Well, it's not just knowing Rose... it's knowing *about* her. I think I read an 
article about her. I think maybe she's still alive."

"Rose Bukater?"

"I'm not sure... It was in the Post, and it said that there were some scientists 
doing research about the Titanic. They went out to the crash site, and there was 
a survivor who went with them. I think the person's name was Rose."

"Scully, Rose is around twenty years old. This is 1912. Do you realize how old 
she would be in our time?"

"I know, I know," she sighed. "It's probably just wishful thinking. Must have 
been someone's kid, maybe a descendent of a survivor." She settled back on her 
side in disappointment, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep.

Mulder rested his head on the pillow as well, but his mind remained active. "Hey 
Scully?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Hm?"

"What if Rose got married?"

"What?" She sat up at this suggestion, contemplating the possibilities.

"She would have had a different last name."

A light flashed in her eyes a moment before dwindling. "That's not going to help 
me to know if Rose makes it off this stupid ship."

"It might."

"How?"

Mulder smiled; he had her attention--something he'd been very happy to have 
earlier in the ballroom when he had been accompanying the beautiful Miss Scully 
in her fashionable evening gown--and something he wanted just as badly now as 
she looked earnestly at him, face washed of makeup and a rumpled shirt for 
pajamas, but somehow just as beautiful. He answered her intent gaze, "What if 
the woman's name was Rose Dawson?"

Scully's mouth formed an oval as it dawned on her. "Oh my God, Mulder. You're a 
genius."

He smiled as she gave him a quick hug, saying, "Rose Dawson. That's the name of 
the woman who's helping the recovery team in 1998."

"So she makes it."

"And so does Jack," she smiled.

But something in Mulder was telling him not to jump to conclusions. "I sure hope 
so."

***

April 14, 1912

"So, what did you think of last night's soiree? I thought it..."

Scully put on a patient smile. "I wasn't aware 'soiree' was in your vocab, 
Mulder." They were heading to breakfast with Rose and Cal, and since the agents 
had woken up so late, the others had started without them.

Suddenly, there was a tremendous clamor coming from their promenade deck. 

Scully rushed to the deck, and Mulder followed behind her quickly. Cal stormed 
out with a frustrated look on his face. But the gentleman in him came out and 
smiled. 

"Mulder. Wonderful to see you. We missed you after dinner, old man. And Dana, 
you look lovely. Excuse me." With that, he swooped off to continue his rage 
somewhere else.

Scully rushed onto the deck towards Rose. She saw the young woman on the floor 
with the maid, trying furiously to clean up the dishes and food that Cal had 
knocked off the table. 

"Rose?" Scully sat down next to the young woman, who was now tearful.

"Oh, Dana." She looked up at Mulder, who was hovering above her. "We had a 
little accident. Stupid, really. I--um..." She quickly straightened up. "I have 
to go to the church service in the dining room. I'd love it if you two came." 
She begged silently to Scully.

Mulder helped her stand. "Sure, Rose. We'll be there." 

Scully gave her partner a curious look. He *never* went to church. She smiled 
confidently. "I'll be there in a minute, Rose." 

Rose returned the smile, now composed, and left.

"What the hell was that, Scully? This was no accident."

Scully didn't want to think that Rose had lied to her. "How can you be so sure? 
And why are you going to church?"

He smiled as they exited the deck. "One question at a time, okay? I can tell 
because..." He gulped slowly. "My, um, my father, when he used to be, ah, upset, 
and after he, uh, did something violent, he... had the same expression Cal had." 

He wasn't looking at her but paused when he felt her hand on his arm, giving him 
a reassuring squeeze. Her heart tightened to hear this admission from him, but 
she knew he didn't want pity. She caught his eye, and gave him a small smile of 
encouragement. He nodded slightly and let out a deep breath, glad to have the 
secret off his chest.

He continued in a lighter tone, "And the second question? I'm going to pray to 
God that the Titanic doesn't sink, because in case you've forgotten, darling, 
the grandest ship in the world is going to be at the bottom of the ocean in less 
than twenty-four hours."  

***

Mulder left Scully at Rose's suite to change his clothes. As the women quickly 
dressed, they discussed what had happened.

"...And then he told me I was his wife in training and I would obey him. I 
suppose he's right..."

Scully could not help her words, as painful as they were. "Rose! That's 
ridiculous! You're a strong woman! This is the nine--I mean this is...um..."

It was then that she realized that women had just been given the right to vote 
in 1920. It wasn't for another eight years until women rebelled. Ah, hell, she 
thought, make a feminist today. This time Scully controlled her voice.

"Rose, Cal is the right man to marry. He has money, he's powerful, not to 
mention the 'right match'--" using Mrs. Bukater's words. 

"Dana," she admonished "I thought you were on my side! And after I just told you 
what he did!"

Scully smiled. "Rose, you did not let me finish. What I also have to say is that 
he's manipulative, vindictive, not to mention cruel... Rose, I'm sorry. This is 
the truth. But I'll say this. He loves you, even if he hurts you." She looked at 
her intently, "But if he ever hits you, pushes you, or forces you to do things 
you know are wrong, leave him. You don't deserve that."

"He's not like that," Rose said quietly. "Not usually."

Scully continued, "And you have to find out if you really love him. Or if you 
love a certain third-class gentleman..."

Rose's face was blank. She pulled her lips into a forced smile. "Dana, I know I 
love Cal. Jack's just a friend." She then took off down the hallway, like a bat 
out of hell.   

***

     .....Eternal Father, Strong to save,
     Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
     Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep
     Its own appointed limits keep;
     O hear us when we cry to thee,
     for those in peril on the sea.....

Talk about irony, Scully thought to herself as she sang along with everyone else 
during the service.

She wasn't sure who else had heard Jack, but she saw him outside, and he was 
loud enough to be heard from the inside. She figured that he had tried to join 
them for church, but because of his class status--and perhaps a forewarning from 
Cal to the men at the door--was not being allowed in. He sounded like a raving 
maniac, looking for Rose. At that moment, Jack reminded Scully of Mulder when 
she had been found that first time. She was in a coma, but she had heard him. 
Creating a commotion, like usual. It had almost made her come out of the coma to 
shut him up. But she also remembered that it was out of love.
     
.....Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee
     For those in peril on the sea!

***

The day was gorgeous and, as happens whenever you want time to stand still, it 
swept by quickly. Mulder and Scully had walked around the decks and spent time 
exploring inside, fascinated at the living history lesson they were receiving in 
spite of the grim deadline which was approaching. As clouds moved in overhead 
and the sun shifted closer to the horizon, they finally settled down on a lounge 
chair together on the A-Deck, knowing they could do nothing now but wait. 

"I'm freezing," Scully muttered almost to herself, but Mulder heard her and 
decided to be of service.

"Well, we can't let that happen, now can we?" He wrapped his arms around Scully 
and pulled her backwards with him so her back was right against his chest. 
"Better?" he murmured. 

Scully felt her cheeks flush. "Uh-huh," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

"Look, Scully, someone's occupying our railing. Ooh, it's our friends."

Her eyes shot open as she craned her neck to see who Mulder was talking about, 
although she was not anxious to leave his embrace. And what to her wondering 
eyes did appear, but Rose and Jack doing that flying thing.

"I knew I should have copyrighted that!" Mulder exclaimed.

When they pulled into a lover's kiss, Scully felt a little jealous. Even though 
she was sitting in the embrace of a man who loved her very much, he had never 
kissed her. Even when they were standing on that very same railing. 

***

The fog was thick and formed a moist cloud around the Titanic as it made its way 
closer to America. Most passengers were enjoying their meals or after-dinner 
dancing. Scully, however, was sitting alone on a bench on the cool deck near the 
bow. Last time she'd confronted the possibility of dying had been much 
different, more sterile and controlled. She could look at it with a clinical 
detachment and still hope that somehow a miracle would come--and it had.

But this whole situation was insane. Scully half-wondered if she was dreaming. 
But everything felt so *real.* If they were to make it back to their time, no 
one would ever believe their story; Dr. Wockenfuss still wouldn't be able to 
patent his invention. It was absurd; and their vouching for it would merely 
tighten the labels of Spooky and Mrs. Spooky.

Whether they made it or not, though, one clear fact remained: This was the night 
that history books declared was the sinking of the unsinkable Titanic.

Scully closed her eyes and leaned back against the bench. Footsteps echoed along 
the deck, silencing beside her as her partner sat down. She turned her head to 
look at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"What's your sign?" he joked, but his tone gave away his worry.

"That line never works, Mulder," she sighed and wrapped her arms more tightly 
around her. "This is it, you know."

"Maybe not," he said hopefully.

She gave him THE LOOK. "We haven't changed anything; we can't. It's impossible 
to rewrite history, even if you're a part of it. We can make a difference just 
about as much as any of these people can." Her voice held a note of sorrow. 
"They don't even know what's coming."

"Neither do we," he insisted, placing an encouraging hand on her knee. "Scully, 
we could still get out of this."

"Regardless, Mulder, half of the people we've met are going to die."

"I know," he said, removing his hand. "But we're not a part of this history. We 
weren't meant to die here. Not like this."

"Who's to say what's meant to be?"

"Your cancer wouldn't have gone into remission only for you to die like this."

She searched his earnest eyes, wanting so much to believe. She sighed, breaking 
the intense eye contact. "So, let's say we do get out. Then what? Do we stay 
here forever? How can we live eighty years before we're supposed to?"

Mulder ran a distracted hand through his thick hair. "I don't know, Scully. But 
think about it; why would Dr. Wockenfuss send us back here without knowing how 
we could return? He wanted proof that his machine worked. What good would it do 
him for us to remain trapped? I honestly think he's trying as we speak to get us 
back to the present. Maybe he's had some mechanical failures. But he'll fix it."

"I just hope it's soon."

They sat in silence as the fog grew thicker. The haze of death had settled a 
contemplative mood upon them, and as Scully had come face-to-face with this 
cloud before, her former life was not at the forefront of her mind. After a few 
minutes, she opened her eyes and looked at her partner.

"Do you think Rose and Jack would believe us?"

Mulder couldn't help but grin. "Thinking about opening up a 1912 branch of the 
X-Files, Scully? Back to the good old Spooky and Mrs. Spooky days?"

"Seriously, Mulder. What could it hurt to try?"

He covered her hand with his own. "But what could they do that we can't?"

Her glimmer of hope faded; he was right. They were all sitting ducks out there; 
there was nothing anyone could do--no one except the captain, and with pressure 
from the more generous and influential investors, he wasn't about to let up on 
the boilers or change course.

"I just wish she knew," Scully said quietly. "So she could prepare."

"Like you did?" his voice cracked slightly.

She nodded slowly, searching his eyes. "I was ready to let go, Mulder." She 
squeezed his hand. "But I didn't want to. There were so many things I wanted to 
tell people, but I had to just assume they knew. It was too hard."

"They knew."

She looked away, the moment too intense for her to control. "I wish Rose could 
tell Jack how she really feels. I wish they could have a lifetime together 
instead of secret meetings in the shadows. She doesn't love Cal."

He watched her intently for a moment before asking quietly, "You would never 
marry someone you didn't love, would you, Scully?"

She looked at him quickly, taken aback by the very personal question. "No," she 
answered without thinking. Then she thought of her life; yes, her professional 
life was satisfying; yes, her family life was fine. But was she lonely 
sometimes? More than she cared to admit. Did she want to have a family of her 
own someday? Definitely. Would it be worth it to settle down with someone she 
didn't really love to accomplish those goals? Maybe.

She looked at Mulder and clarified, "I had tea parties and played house as much 
as any other kid," she smiled slightly, "even though I was a tomboy. I wanted a 
husband and kids and a white picket fence... Then I grew up. I wanted a career. 
I got that. I'm happy with it." Mulder looked unconvinced, so she squeezed his 
hand as she continued quietly, "I know I can't have kids in the conventional way 
now. And I sure as hell don't go out on many dates. So, I don't know, Mulder. 
Maybe if a nice guy came along, and he loved me, maybe that would be enough."

"No," he said reflectively, holding her gaze. "That's not enough for you. You 
deserve so much more."

"I have enough for now," she said, her voice cracking under his intent 
observation, warmth crawling through her body.

"No," he said gently, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair 
behind her ear. "You deserve to love someone as much as they love you."

Her heart seemed to stop as the words came out before she could think, "Don't I 
already have that, Mulder?"

His hand froze against her cheek, and she swallowed nervously. Scully felt her 
cheeks grow red as the silence thickened under Mulder's unreadable expression. 
Finally, he came to his senses and nodded slowly, his hand caressing her cheek 
as he moved closer, their faces only inches apart. She could feel his warm 
breath against her mouth, and she was sure he could hear her racing heart. But 
this was not a time for distance; she was tired of maintaining professionalism. 
She loved him, and he loved her. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

His soft lips brushed against hers lightly, and she moved a hand to the back of 
his head to encourage him. Their lips met again, and she opened her mouth, 
needing to feel him against her, needing to know they would be okay. He moved to 
comply, wanting to taste her mouth, needing to be close to her, but was startled 
back to their surroundings with the loud, lonely echo of a fog horn. Scully met 
his gaze silently, searching his eyes as a scared voice could be heard above 
them:

"Iceberg right ahead!!!"

***

Captain Smith had grumbled at his sudden rousing when his first officer came to 
warn him of the iceberg. But upon hearing reports of the damage inflicted on his 
ship, he knew they were in trouble. He barked out quick, direct orders, 
confident in his knowledge that he was doing the right thing, but afraid that 
his instructions were coming much too late.

"Captain Smith," Mulder greeted as he joined the worried crew.

"I don't have time for this now, Mr. Mulder," the captain snapped, angry that 
this annoying passenger's prediction had so far come true. "We have a bit of a 
situation."

"The Titanic will sink," Mulder stated, inspiring fear in the crew's eyes as 
they turned to their leader.

"She will not sink," Smith affirmed. "There is still time to make the 
appropriate adjustments to remain in a stable condition until such time as we 
can receive help."

"Four hours, sir, at earliest," his first officer supplied.

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Captain Smith commented, pacing nervously as 
he awaited a damage estimate, praying he had every right to be confident.

"No," Mulder insisted, "Four hours is too long. She will sink. You have to start 
preparing people. Rose Bukater was told by the ship's builder, Mr. Andrews, 
himself that there aren't enough lifeboats. You have to start putting things 
together, anything that will float--"

"Mr. Mulder," the captain interrupted angrily, "I do not have time for this 
nonsense. Kindly leave or I will have you escorted out."

"I am not kidding, Captain. This ship will go down. There is nothing that can 
stop it. You have to--"

"Get out. You are in the way."

"--get ready. Prepare the passengers. Find a way to construct more lifeboats--"

The captain nodded to a couple members of his crew. "Get him out of here."

"No!" Mulder shouted, "You have to listen to me!"

As two of the crew members reached for Mulder, a brazen female voice interrupted 
the commotion. "Excuse me, Captain. Might I have a word with Mr. Mulder?"

"Mrs. Brown." The captain looked relieved. "Just get him out of here. My men 
don't have time for this."

Mulder looked about to protest again but thought better of it as he allowed 
Molly Brown to lead him away from the busy crew.

"Mrs. Brown, you--"

"Molly."

"Molly, you don't understand. This ship is going to sink."

She steered him towards a bench, and he reluctantly sat down. "You have to have 
some confidence in the crew, Fox. E.J. Smith is one of the most esteemed 
captains around; he knows what he's doing."

"We hit an iceberg. There's nothing he can do. We have to concentrate on the 
lifeboats."

"Well, just look over there. They've already begun to put women and children on 
the boats just to be on the safe side."

"They're first class," he pointed out, a sigh of hopelessness escaping him.

"First class goes, then second, then third," she added, feeling a bit agitated.

"There aren't enough lifeboats for everyone."

Molly was beginning to worry now... as a girl, she herself, would have been one 
of the steerage passengers, but due to her husband's success in the Colorado 
silver mines, she had climbed the ladder to success. Though she was viewed as 
"nouveau riche" by the other passengers, they still accepted her as one of them, 
even if her demeanor wasn't up to Miss Manners' handbook.

"Maybe we should talk to Mr. Andrews," she suggested.

Mulder shook his head. "Rose spoke with him the other day. She noticed the lack 
of lifeboats... he said there are only half as many as we need."

"Oh my God."

He nodded, glad she finally understood some of what was happening. "The third 
class passengers won't have a chance," he commented.

"Well," she said in determination. "There has to be something we can do. Where 
are Rose and Dana?"

"Together, I hope. I don't know exactly where."

"You go up to the Bukaters' stateroom to find them. I'm going to find Mr. 
Andrews and see if he has any ideas." She began to walk away, when Mulder called 
to her. She turned expectantly.

"You're unsinkable," he smiled slightly, admiring her upcoming courage, and 
knowing that Molly would be one of the survivors.

"We Browns are a tough lot," she answered. "Let's hope it's contagious."

He nodded as she walked away, afraid history would be much harder to change than 
he had originally hoped.

***

As Scully walked down the long corridor that led to the Bukaters' rooms, she saw 
her distraught friend heading towards her.

"Dana!" she called out worriedly.

"Rose, what's the matter?"

"It's Jack," she said somewhat breathlessly. "They've accused him of stealing 
that dreadful necklace."

"The one you kept in the vault?"

She nodded, near tears. "They put handcuffs on him and took him somewhere."

"How would he have gotten in the vault?"

Rose blushed slightly as she explained, "He was drawing me. I asked him to put 
the portrait in the safe."

"You don't think he took it?"

"No, I don't think so. Oh, I'm so confused!"

"What evidence do they have?"

"It was in his pocket..." Fire returned to her eyes. "Cal must have put it 
there, I'm sure. Jack would never do that to me. We only came back up here to 
warn Mother of the iceberg."

"So, you know..."

"We saw it, Dana. It's huge. I can't believe the Titanic is going to sink."

"There aren't enough lifeboats," Scully reminded her gently.

"That's why I have to find Jack. I--" She looked cautiously around her before 
confiding with a shy smile, "We were intimate, Dana, down in the baggage 
compartment, in somebody's automobile."

Dana couldn't help smiling at Rose's confession and teased, "That's hardly 
proper for a young lady."

Rose laughed and said, "I love him so much, Dana. I can't bear the thought of 
him being locked up somewhere. What if he drowns before I find him?"

"I saw Mr. Andrews in the library on my way here. He would know where they keep 
prisoners."

"Right. I'll go find him... Are you going to look for Fox?"

Scully nodded. "He went to see the captain." She grinned in spite of herself. "I 
wouldn't be surprised if he's been locked up with Jack."

Rose squeezed her friend's hand nervously and began to head towards the library 
before turning around. "Dana?"

Scully walked towards her with open arms. The two friends hugged tightly. "You 
take care of yourself, Rose," Dana said, her voice choked up.

"You too. You've been such a wonderful friend to me, Dana. I hope you and Fox 
will be okay."

Dana nodded and pulled away. "You go find Jack. Send him my best."

Rose smiled, calling over her shoulder as she hurried off, "When you find Fox, 
don't let go of him."

Dana took a deep breath, wiping away a few stray tears. "You can count on it," 
she said quietly before heading off towards the captain's quarters.

***

Confusion abounded on deck as people in all states of dress and undress fitted 
life vests on and milled around the lifeboats. Some laughed at the scare, their 
hearts sure that the Titanic was unsinkable. While men worked out in the gym as 
they awaited word, the band continued to play ragtime as children kicked chunks 
of ice around the deck. Officers called for women and children to board the 
small boats being lowered to the sea, but many feared that this would be a more 
dangerous option than remaining on board their ship. Some were ushered on 
anyway, saying what they thought was a temporary good-bye to their husbands and 
brothers, fathers and sons. But many felt the risk was minimal and stayed on 
deck. The result was numerous lifeboats being lowered with nowhere near capacity 
on board.

Molly Brown walked confidently through the crowds, handing out life vests to 
some of the scared women and children huddled nearby. Her heart was heavy after 
her talk with Mr. Andrews. Any materials that could really be of use for 
building rafts and rowboats were down in the lower levels of the ship--levels 
that were being flooded by the minute. Even if they were able to reach the 
necessary supplies, there was little motivation for the men to begin 
constructing more boats. Not many thought it was warranted. The only ones who 
knew the true gravity of the situation were the captain and some of his crew--
and they were busy enough as it was.

"Ma'am, this way," an officer spoke.

"No, I have to help these people," she spoke for once with little confidence in 
her voice. The task was overwhelming, and no help could be found.

"Please, ma'am. Women and children need to evacuate immediately."

Molly glanced around; there was nothing more she could do. Before she knew it, a 
couple of men had lifted her into one of the lifeboats, and she was being 
lowered to the dark waters of the Atlantic.

***

As Scully found herself amid the confusion on deck, she saw the Unsinkable Molly 
Brown being lowered in a lifeboat. The rest of the faces surrounding her were 
unfamiliar.

"Excuse me, sir," she questioned a crewman. "Have you seen my friend? He's tall, 
dark hair--"

"Might be on the other side, miss," the busy man interrupted. "I'd get on one of 
the lifeboats if I were you. Women first, men second."

"I'll wait. I have to find my friend first."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, making it obvious that he thought her decision 
unwise.

For once she was glad of her petite stature as she maneuvered easily among the 
milling crowd. As she made it to the ship's other side, she eyed a crewman 
suspiciously.

"What are you doing, sir?" she asked, trying to convey authority above the 
nervous chatter of passengers.

Mistaking her for a woman curious about the matters of the crew and not for the 
admonishment it was, he replied, "This boat is for the gentlemen of the ship, 
miss. They're helping their women onto the lifeboats, then they'll be on their 
way here."

"And the weapon?"

"The third class passengers are getting rowdy. This is just a precaution. No 
need to worry."

"Miss Scully!" a familiar voice drew her in another direction as she spotted the 
ship's designer.

"Mr. Andrews," she recognized. "Did you see Rose?"

"Yes. She asked me to tell you that your gentleman friend was looking for you."

"Do you know where he is?"

"On deck, I imagine. I suggest you board that lifeboat. There soon won't be any 
left."

"I can't leave without Mulder."

"I'll find him and tell him where you are."

"I--"

"Miss?" a crewman questioned, holding out his hand. "There's room for a couple 
more."

"I'll tell him," Mr. Andrews promised. "It's the least I can do," he finished 
sadly, more to himself than anyone.

"Well, I don't think--"

"Miss, we have to lower the boat," the crewman urged, grabbing her hand. 
Confused and somewhat disoriented, she allowed him to guide her to the boat. She 
looked anxiously among the crowd, hoping to spot Mulder. Suddenly the boat began 
to sway as it was lowered to the ocean.

As she got further and further from the massive ship, she became more and more 
nervous. This was wrong. A part of her was still on that ship, and she couldn't 
leave without it--not without Mulder.

Looking hesitantly around her, she crouched, preparing to pounce. She took 
advantage of the railing on some of the lower decks and flung herself at the 
sinking boat.

A loud gasp could be heard from her fellow passengers as she clung to the 
railing.

"You idiot!" one of the crewman shouted. "You've just sealed your fate."

Taking a deep breath, she climbed over the rail, landing hard on the ground. A 
few people still on that level just stared in disbelief. Ignoring them, she 
hurried to find Mulder.

***

Thomas Andrews stared disheartened at a picture hanging on the wall of the large 
library. His dream, his creation was dying. He was dying. Hundreds of innocent 
people were dying. And he could offer them nothing. He hadn't even been able to 
keep his promise to Miss Scully, as her friend was impossible to find among the 
disorganized crowd. 

As if from his thoughts, a voice spoke, "Mr. Andrews? Have you seen my friend?"

He turned quickly and tried to wipe the mirage from before him.

"Mr. Andrews?" the man asked in concern.

A slight smile appeared on his worried features as he answered, "Mr. Mulder. 
I've been looking for you."

"Why? Is Scully okay? Do you know where she is?"

"Yes, yes. She's fine. There's nothing to worry about. I convinced her to get on 
one of the lifeboats."

Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. "And you?"

"I'm staying."

Mulder nodded, understanding. "Good luck," he said, holding out his hand. "You 
made a fine ship. Who would have expected this?"

Andrews shook his hand but said nothing.

Mulder continued through to the main ballroom and out to the crowded decks. He 
heard gunshots and, on instinct, ran towards the commotion. A third-class 
passenger was dead. Mulder looked accusingly at the officer that had fired the 
shot. A look of horror passed over the murderer's face as he fired the gun on 
himself and fell overboard. 

I wish Scully was here, he thought, knowing perhaps she could have saved the 
victim. But for what? Just so he could drown anyway? Maybe his was a less 
painful way to go...

Mulder shook his head as he listened to snippets of nearby conversation, "That 
was the last lifeboat, you know," "We're as good as dead," "Them higher-ups have 
left us to die!"

Looking around him, Mulder realized they were right. The passengers remaining on 
the boat had no option but to go down with the ship. 

At least Scully's safe, he told himself, trying to ignore the hurt that creeped 
into his heart that she would have left him on the sinking ship to die. Sure, he 
had gotten them into this mess in the first place, but... He closed his eyes. He 
was being selfish. Of course he wanted her to be okay. He was just afraid to be 
by himself when death hit.

Slowly he wandered away from the shouting crowds to less polluted sections of 
the ship. What a way to go! Skinner would never believe this one. If Scully made 
it back to the present time, there would be no body. No one would even believe 
that he was dead--just Spooky Mulder doing another disappearing act. But Scully 
would know. If she made it.

And what was all of this for? The truth? He had found nothing. Hell, why didn't 
he ask to go back to the night his sister disappeared? Now *that* might have 
changed something. He could have stopped her from being taken, and his family 
would not have fallen apart... he would never have stumbled upon the X-Files, 
never had met Scully... On second thought, the past was probably better left 
alone.

Mulder hated himself for thinking that, but it was all such a long time ago, and 
Scully was such a big part of his life... Hell, when it came down to it, she 
*was* his life...

He was heading to the back of the ship when he finally realized that he was 
walking up a hill. He looked behind him and saw that the ship was going down, 
and fast! 

Mulder shrugged it off. He was going to die. But Scully would be okay. She could 
get back to 1998, and get on with her life. Without him, she would've been head 
of Quantico by now anyway. Maybe now she could accomplish that. 

He was slipping into his self-pity mode now, but he didn't care. He was enjoying 
himself in a morbid sort of way. He thought of what his life would be like 
without Scully. He would have little desire to live. And here he was, about to 
sink with the Titanic, and Scully would go on. She would get to live her life, 
get married... Mulder shuttered at this thought. Maybe she could adopt... But he 
was sure that her life would be better without him. 

A loud creaking sound interrupted his musings. Wood splitting, pipes bursting, 
floorboards cracking--the ship was shifting. The floor began to tilt at an 
uncomfortable angle, and Mulder's heart raced. His life-preserving instinct 
kicked in, and he ran to the decks, prepared to grab onto the railing. He made 
it to the outside as the floor's angle became impossible to walk on. He held 
tightly to the railing as a last tearing sound echoed through the night--the 
Titanic had split in two.

***

Scully raced from deck to deck, repeating what she had done earlier. The front 
end of the Titanic was sinking, so she couldn't go there. She went everywhere, 
and found out that she could go no lower than the second deck; if any person was 
there, they were surely dead. So Mulder is *not* there, she prayed with all her 
heart.

She looked around, exhausted and scared, screams of frightened passengers 
filling her ears. All she could think about was Mulder. He probably thought she 
was safe on a lifeboat. The element of surprise, she thought, as she ran up the 
deck, is to scare the bejezus out of someone. And when I see him... her heart 
slowed as a sick realization flowed through her veins. There was a chance she 
would never see Mulder again. 

Things she wished she'd never said, words she wished she had... all memories of 
Mulder flooded her brain. Scully needed him, here, now, and forever.  

Suddenly, the creaking noises she had heard got louder. The unsinkable Titanic 
began to slant, pulling everyone with it who was not strong enough to hang on. 
Its fury was powerful and exciting. But people were dying. As the boat split in 
two, she climbed onto the railing and held on. That's when she saw Jack and Rose 
doing the same thing far to her left. But it was a figure just a few feet to her 
right that captured her attention.

"Mulder! Oh, my God! I thought that... I'd never..." Unexpected tears welled up 
in Scully's throat as she carefully crawled close to Mulder, the urge to be near 
him overpowering her fear.

"Scully! Oh, God...You didn't stay on the rowboat." The thought flashed through 
Mulder's brain as her body climbed next to his, and a guilty relief flooded 
through him.

Scully laughed, petrified. "Is *that* what you're thinking about?"

He shook his head solemnly as his fingers clamped over hers, clinging to the 
railing. "No... I want to say I lo--" His words were interrupted by the 
incredible noise of the ship's last struggle to stay afloat.

Mulder let go of Scully's hand and pulled himself on top of her to protect her 
as best he could. He caught Jack doing the same thing to Rose, realizing the 
futility of it as the faces of the young people mirrored the fear in his own 
heart. They appeared to be sobbing, and it made him more determined to say what 
he was feeling.

He lowered his face to Scully's so that their cheeks were touching. "Scully... 
whatever happens... know that... that..."

Scully smiled tearfully, feeling the warmth of his face and his body envelope 
her. "I know. Me, too."

The water became increasingly close. It was closer... and closer... until it was 
only about ten yards away. The black waters swirled and foamed and wouldn't be 
satisfied until they had swallowed the Titanic whole.

"When I say 'now' Scully, hold your breath!" Mulder's voice boomed around and 
startled Scully. Her foggy mind remembered college physics, and she prepared 
with Mulder to jump away from the swirling vortex of water that was vacuuming 
them into the ocean.

Before they knew it, Titanic, rear and bow, was sunk.

***

April 15, 1912
2:30 AM

The Unsinkable Titanic was now under the Atlantic Ocean.

Passengers who were in rowboats were out of harm's reach, and in perfect view of 
all passengers in the water. Women clutched their children, couples clung to one 
another, and even the musicians held fast to their instruments, having been 
silenced as they hit the water.

Cries shot up through the dark sky. Hundreds of voices cried out to be saved by 
anyone, but they were ignored. Four voices went undetected. They weren't yelling 
to be saved; they were yelling to be found.

They, these four voices, yearned for each other. And two of those voices had 
loved each other for six years. The other two had loved for only a few days. 
Both were equal to a lifetime.

"Scully! Where the hell are you?! Scully!" He swam around frantically to find 
her.

"Mulder! I'm over here! Mulder? Mulder!" Her cries were half of fright, half of 
relief.

"Oh, God Scully! I thought you were--"

Scully gave Mulder a small kiss as she started to sob. "I thought... I 
thought... I thought I lost you... and that was so scary..."

Returning a kiss, he smiled in relief. "I know. I felt the same way."

Tearing herself away from Mulder, she looked around. "Where are Jack and Rose? I 
saw them, but--"

Mulder gestured away from her. "Over there." Jack was helping Rose onto a piece 
of driftwood, and they were looking very emotional, so Mulder and Scully stayed 
back, giving them time, content in each other's presence.

They leaned towards each other, a piece of wood in between them for leverage, 
their foreheads touching, reveling in the notion of their present location.

"God, Scully... this is so insane... and I'm so damn cold." 

She tried to smile through her chattering teeth but it turned out more of a 
grimace. "I know. I'm freezing. I can't feel my body, Mulder." Her voice dripped 
with as much emotion as she could muster in spite of the cold.

Mulder quickly peered around looking for something she could get on, so she 
could at least be out of  the water. He spotted a chair drifting off from the 
other huddles of people.

"Scully, look over there. You won't be so cold--"

"Mulder, two of us couldn't float on it."

He shrugged, even though it was hard with his body growing more numb by the 
minute. "I know." 

She felt tears again in her eyes. "Mulder..."

"What?"

"I'm not getting on it."

"Damnit, Scully, you're gonna freeze if you don't get on. Don't worry about me. 
I'll be okay. Remember that time I was in the Arctic? I was okay."

"Yeah, but if that Naval Reconnaissance team hadn't come, you would've been..." 
She managed to swallow the lump in her throat at the thought of Mulder dead.

"Scully. Please get on the damn chair, okay? For me." He gave her a wan smile.

Scully smiled back, her obstinance still fully in tact. "No. Trust me--"

"I do," he interjected.

"I'm fine, Mulder. Besides, we've made it this far together... I'm not gonna 
even attempt safety if you're not with me."

"You're so stubborn," he sighed, giving in, reaching over the wood to pull her 
closer. "I love you," he stated, wrapping his arms around her as best as he 
could, considering the wood and their puffy lifevests.

Scully sniffled, then shivered. "I know... I love you, too, and I always will. 
Even if you're an obsessive man who is so idealistic and--"

"A simple 'I love you, too' is good, Scully."

She smiled in spite of the situation and glanced over at their friends. "Mulder, 
look at Rose and Jack. They're so much in love. They have no idea what they're 
really going through."

"I think they do. Otherwise, they wouldn't be with each other."

Mulder and Scully clung to each other, with the clarity that their lives might 
soon come to an end. They had the wisdom that they would die together, and that 
was all that mattered to them.

Scully looked over at Jack and Rose as they exchanged the last words they would 
ever speak to each other. She felt a pang of guilt for Rose, because the chances 
that she would survive were a hell of a lot better than Jack's. She would live 
on, and be a strong woman, but she would never, ever forget about Jack. Her 
heart would go on. Hmm, she thought, that'd make a good song...

Suddenly, a pulsating sensation threatened their bodies. A bright light blinded 
them momentarily. A voice, belonging to a man, filled their ears. "Hmm. There 
must be a kink somewhere. I'm sorry it didn't work. It should have. How odd."

Scully felt herself in a small, dark place next to Mulder. She wasn't cold 
anymore. She wasn't wet. And she was wearing a designer suit and high heels. 
"Mulder?" she whispered, pulling out of his embrace.

"Yeah?"

"Did we...?"

"I think so."

Mulder got out of the machine, and pulled Scully out with him. He blinked as his 
eyes adjusted to the light. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Dr. Wockenfuss. I'll be in touch." The scientist smiled 
apologetically and rummaged for some tools on a nearby shelf.

As the agents were walking out, they were both in a haze of everything that had 
occurred. Or that didn't occur.

"Hmm," Mulder put eloquently. He was waiting for Scully to give him her theory 
about what happened. It was so real, but it was truly implausible.

"Mulder, I wonder if they died. Rose and Jack. They were so in love... and much 
too young to die..."

He stared at her as they both sat down in the car, somewhat surprised his keys 
had still been in his pocket. "Scully, that is not what I expected you to say. 
Something along the lines of 'I'm not going to believe a damn second of whatever 
happened' is more what I was expecting."

As he started the car, she answered, "Yeah, normally I would say that. But, 
Agent Mulder, I have proof."

He looked over at her, for once as the skeptic. "Really? What proof would that 
be?"

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out something Rose had given her. A 
clip, in perfect condition. A butterfly, splashed with gorgeous colors. The same 
one she had worn to dinner with Rose's family.

"That's your proof, Scully? Pretty damn weak." But his heart wasn't in it. A 
lucid dream, even hypnotic suggestions, could never have been that real.

"Mulder, hear me out. Remember that article I was telling you about? Well, a 
week ago, a ship diving down to the Titanic wreck found one of these. They were 
a part of a pair. Guess who has the other one?" she offered, a twinkle in her 
eye.

***

Present Day
One Week Later
Above Titanic Wreck Site

A week of researched newspaper articles, phone calls, and determination led 
Mulder and Scully right back to the Atlantic ocean. Some cashed-in favors by the 
paranoid Lone Gunmen landed the agents aboard the ship that housed the research 
team observing the eighty-six-year-old Titanic.

Scully stepped nervously onto the comparatively small ship and looked in awe at 
her surroundings as the departing helicopter whipped her hair wildly about her 
face. The same ocean, eighty years later, but it still smelled the same, felt 
the same. She closed her eyes, remembering, and a shiver caressed her body 
involuntarily. A warm hand squeezing her shoulder caused her to open her eyes 
and turn around.

Mulder smiled at her, moving his hand down to the small of her back. "Rose is 
downstairs."

She smiled nervously. "I can't believe it's her. Do you think she'll remember 
us?"

"There's only one way to find out." Together they walked downstairs where all of 
the surveillance equipment was kept. 

"Oh my God," Scully breathed in the site of the video image on a nearby monitor. 
The Titanic, in all her former glory, was settled on the sea floor, rusted with 
age and saltwater, but pretty well intact. "It's just how I remember it," she 
said quietly.

"How you remember it?" a large man with a demented happy face on his tee-shirt 
questioned.

Mulder intervened. "We've been studying up a great deal on what happened that 
night. There were a lot of sketches and a few photos."

"She's pretty well preserved," the man agreed. "Musta been a beauty in her day."

"She sure was," Scully said quietly.

The man gave a curious look in her direction before pointing to another room. 
"The old lady is in there. She sure can tell quite a tale." He smiled slightly 
before sitting down at one of the computers, leaving the agents to meet Rose on 
their own.

"Does she know we're coming?" Dana asked suddenly.

"We told her the feds were interested," he acknowledged with a wink before 
turning back to his work.

"Do you think we'll frighten her?" she whispered to Mulder.

"It was a long time ago for her, Scully."

"It's not a night I'll ever forget, Mulder."

He nodded his agreement as they cautiously entered the room. An elderly woman 
sat at a desk, staring at a photo yellowed with age. A pomeranian lay quietly at 
her feet. Mulder and Scully exchanged glances, thinking of the coincidence of 
her having the same kind of dog Scully had lost. Mulder cleared his throat.

Rose did not divert her eyes as she greeted, "Agents Mulder and Scully of the 
FBI, I presume."

Scully's heart fell, thinking Rose did not remember them after all. "Yes. We... 
we'd like to ask you some questions."

Rose smiled and set the frame down. "I've believed in miracles since that night 
over eighty years ago, Dana, when I was pulled from the freezing water." Rose 
met her eyes. "So when I heard that you were coming, I knew. I knew it was you 
and Fox."

Tears came involuntarily to Scully's eyes as she leaned down to embrace her 
friend. "You made it, Rose."

"Barely," she acknowledged, patting the mattress for her to sit down. "Fox," she 
greeted, and Mulder squeezed her hand before bringing it to his lips for a kiss. 
"Still a terrible flirt, I see."

"I can't help myself around beautiful women," he smiled, sitting beside Scully.

"I always knew there was something special about the two of you," Rose added. 
"Something different. I'm too old to question how or why. I'm just glad you're 
here--and that you were *there*."

"I was so mad at Mulder," Scully said, shaking her head. "But even in spite of 
what we saw, it was worth it. I still can't believe it's you."

"In the flesh. Not quite as rebellious as I was but me just the same."

Mulder commented, "They said your maiden name is Dawson..."

A wistful look passed over her wrinkled features. "Yes. When the Carpathia came 
for the survivors, I knew I did not want to go back to my former life. I 
couldn't. Jack had changed things so much--for the better. I saw Cal... but that 
life was gone. So I hid. And when they asked me my name, I knew that Rose DeWitt 
Bukater was dead. So I told them who I wanted to be, who I felt like I was--Rose 
Dawson."

"Jack didn't make it," Scully realized sadly.

"Oh, Jack always lived, Dana. I kept him with me in my heart in everything that 
I did. He's the only reason I lived that night. I wanted so much to give up and 
join him in death. It would have been so much easier... so romantic. But I 
promised him I would live. That I would go on. And I have, though it was hard at 
times."

Mulder listened quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat as he remembered three 
desperate, lonely months when his partner was missing... endless months more 
recently when he thought she was dying and felt like he would die along with 
her... He knew how easy it was to give up, how hard it was to fight to live when 
a part of you was dying.

He said quietly, "You're one of the bravest people I've ever known, Rose."

Scully caught his eye and smiled slightly as she brushed a few stray tears from 
her face. Rose answered thoughtfully, "I was just keeping a promise." She turned 
to Dana. "Have you kept yours?"

Mulder looked at her curiously, and Dana nodded, avoiding his gaze. "I will." I 
will never let go of him, she said silently, squeezing Rose's hand.

"Good, good. Now why don't both of you go look at the unsinkable Titanic. They 
have some amazing equipment out there. I'm ready to turn in for the night."

Scully hugged her one last time, and Mulder kissed her cheek. "We'll see you 
tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow," Rose nodded, and they left. Rose sighed and absently patted her 
small dog. Slowly, she stood and went to her suitcase. Taking a small box from 
one of the compartments, she slipped it into the pocket of her robe and laid 
down on the bed. "Tomorrow," she repeated quietly and closed her eyes. 

***

Stars danced in the clear night sky as Rose made her way to the railing at the 
ship's bow. The moon was full and bright, and its light shone on the man 
standing there, staring across the dark ocean water.

"If only it had been a night like this," she broke the still air with her steady 
voice.

Mulder turned around and held his hand out. Rose accepted the gesture and joined 
him at the rail. 

"No jumping tonight," Mulder teased. "Scully might get jealous."

Rose simply smiled as she removed a small object from the pocket of her robe. 
She clasped his hand, and when she let go, Mulder held the much coveted item.

He stared at it, feeling its weight and beauty in his palm. "You've had it this 
whole time," he breathed.

"The heart of the ocean."

He looked at her questioningly, and she continued. "Cal wanted everyone to know 
how important he was by having such an object. When Rose DeWitt Bukater drowned, 
I was starting out with nothing but the clothes on my back. Cal had given me his 
jacket--he'd left the stone in its pocket. It had no personal value, no 
importance to his heart--so unlike something much more simple, like the necklace 
Dana has always worn. I wanted something like that so much. When I had to let 
Jack go, my memories and this necklace were all I had left. For me, Jack was the 
heart of this ocean--still is. He's down there somewhere... And I've never 
forgotten him. 

"That night is so clear in my mind... the hundreds of people crying out for help 
sounding like the roar of sports fans, the band playing hymns till the last, the 
lights of the ship glowing green beneath the ocean, the icy water... and then 
the silence, the numbness. It was a tragedy, Fox. But there is something to be 
learned from every event, no matter how painful." She looked at him pointedly. 
"Don't let the images haunt you, Fox. Accept them, remember the friends you 
made, know that you tried your best... but move on. You can, and you will. Let 
Dana help. You need each other, especially at a time like this."

Mulder nodded slowly, thoughtfully, and returned his gaze to the ocean, 
wondering how she could know him so well. Rose squeezed his arm lightly and made 
her way back to her room, content.

Taking her words to heart, Mulder left for a brief time before returning to the 
railing. He stood there for hours, his mind filled with many images, his heart 
filled with one. As if from his own willpower, he heard a familiar voice 
approach from behind.

"Mulder?"

Turning stiffly from the pink-gold sunrise, he smiled as Scully joined him. She 
cleared her throat before telling him, "Rose is gone, Mulder."

He met her eyes, first in surprise then acceptance, as he answered, "She's had a 
long, good life."

She nodded, taking a deep breath as she unconsciously fingered the cross at her 
throat. "I went to check on her, and... She's with Jack now."

Watching her, he remembered the necklace he still had clasped in his palm. Did 
she get the note? he wondered.

As if reading his mind, she withdrew a small piece of paper from her pocket. 
"What's this, Mulder?" she asked softly.

"Did you read it?" His heart was beating loud in the calm sea air.

She nodded, not looking at the paper, as she recited in a somewhat shaky voice, 
"Without belittling the courage with which men have died, we should not forget 
those acts of courage with which men have lived. The courage of life is often a 
less dramatic spectacle than the courage of a final moment; but it is no less a 
magnificent mixture of triumph and tragedy."

"Forgive me for plagiarizing JFK," he said, trying to take the edge off the 
serious discussion.

"As long as we're not talking peg legs here," she commented, trying to hide her 
smile.

For once, he let the humorous retort go as he let his heart speak, "I'm here 
with you, Scully. And I think it's time for us to live."

Her eyes just shone, and Mulder smiled broadly, holding out his hand. She 
squeezed it tightly and let him lead her to the intersection of the railing at 
the bow. She stepped up in front of him without hesitation, and he wrapped his 
arms around her, slipping the necklace over her head. She began to turn around 
in surprise, but he quieted her with a finger to her lips, then a gentle kiss. 
The sun was peeking out over the horizon as he stood up straight behind her on 
the railing, his arms running along hers until both of them had their arms 
stretched to the sides like a bird in flight, a single entity with the same 
beating of the heart.

Mulder leaned his face down to her cheek, his warm breath gently tickling her 
ear as he whispered, "Scully--"

She squeezed his hands to silence his words and finished the sentence for him as 
the ocean stretched out a lifetime before them. "We're flying."


THE END


Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime
And never let go till we're gone
Love was when I loved you, one true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go on...
You're here, there's nothing I fear
And I know that my heart will go on
We'll stay forever this way
You are safe in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

Celine Dion, "My Heart Will Go On" (Love theme from "Titanic"--as if you didn't 
already know!)
Lyrics by Will Jennings