From: Paperheart <paperheart_42@yahoo.com>
Date: Mon, 10 Jul 2000 08:24:36 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: xfc: A Fresh Coat of Paint (1/4)
Source: xfc

TITLE:  A Fresh Coat of Paint
AUTHOR:  Anna Chait
E-MAIL Address: paperheart_42@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION:  Archive away, let me know where it goes!
SPOILER WARNING:  None
RATING:  Pretty Darn Clean (PG)
CLASSIFICATION:  Romance, it's all I do.
DISCLAIMER:  These people weren't made up by me, they
belong to Chris Carter, Fox Television and 1013
Productions.  Alas, I get nothing out of it, just my own
enjoyment.  
SUMMARY:  Bad things happen to good people all the time. 
The moral of the story?  Live each day to the fullest, tell
the people you love that you love them.
Mulder and Scully both learn this lesson here.

&*&*&*&*&*&*&

A Fresh Coat of Paint (1 of 4)
By Anna Chait

He just snapped.  Before he could think, it fell from his
lips. 

"Just what in the hell do you want from me?"

She inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to quiet her mind
and her racing pulse.  Finally, she raised her eyes to his.
 "It comes down to trust, doesn't it, Mulder.  It always
has."  With that simple statement, she'd raised the bar
higher than it had been.  

He stared at her afraid to speak, his lower lip crushed
between his teeth.  His eyes narrowed as he carefully
considered his response, aware that his next words might
affect the course of their partnership--and perhaps the
rest of their lives.  

It was always this way for them, always been this
deliberation in a crisis.  Could he trust her implicitly? 
Was she really on his side?  Would she back him up? 
Everything with him was a damn test of loyalty.  When would
she have finally proved herself to him in this regard? 
When would it be enough?

Time and again he'd gambled with their lives for the truth.
 As many times as had been required he'd put his life on
the line for her and she had returned the favor, but it was
never enough.  Each new situation brought the inevitable
moment when they would disagree, when their individual
philosophies would force them to take different approaches
to a problem.  Her scientific "show me" stance left so
little room for his imaginative leaps though evidence and
logic to a conclusion they wouldn't agree on. 

Rather than wait to hear his answer she rushed forward with
more information.  Maybe she didn't really want to know
what he might have said.  Perhaps this uncertainty caused
them to have to prove to each other over and over how far
they would go.  But if it didn't build trust, what else was
there?  

"I remember you asked me once how many times you'd been
wrong.  Do you remember that conversation?  It went
something like this...."I tell you my theory, we do this
little perfunctory dance, you accuse me of not being
scientifically rigorous and off my nut" ......you remember? 
Well let me turn that around on you.  How many times have I
let you down?   When have I failed you?"

He inhaled quickly and responded to that.  "You've never
failed me, Scully.  Never.  It's just hard for me......." 

Hard for him?   After suspensions and reprimands, why did
she subject herself to this?  It was an infuriating
question, one she pondered endlessly.  In the end, it came
down to this.  Although she didn't always believe him and
his approach to the fantastic things they had experienced,
she believed in him.  In his quest for truth and his
abilities to find it.  She believed in him, that was it . 
Now if he would only believe in her.

"This time I don't want anything from you."  Her voice
seemed calm and steady despite her racing heart.  "I really
believed that we had gotten beyond this, but here we go
again."  She picked up her keys from the table and turned
to leave.  "I don't see how we can go on.  I guess what I'm
saying, is---I can't."

"Come, on, Scully.  Talk to me, we can fix this."  Without
thinking, he grabbed her arm as she moved by him.  

Her eyes cut quickly down to his hand gripping her arm
tightly, then defiantly up into his eyes.    As if her gaze
burned him he suddenly pulled away.  "Look....please, just
don't go like this."  Was there just a bit of desperation
in his voice?     "You can't go.  I need you--if you go,
nothing....I know you.  You'll go away somewhere and the
easiest thing will be to just not come back."

She spun around on her heel and walked closer to him, as if
there was some explanation written in code on his forehead
that might explain what he'd just said.   "How in the hell
can you tell me something like that when I know in my heart
that you don't trust me."

He resisted the urge to back away from her and the force of
a pissed-off Scully.    He stood his ground and responded
to her with the words he should have said long ago.  "We
never catch a break, do we?  Well, here goes....I'm certain
this is the wrong time, but, I love you Scully.  I do.  I
always have, and I've tried to tell you--but something
always gets between us, doesn't it?  It seems like there
will always be a better time, but I guess that's not the
case now.  There may not be another time. "

"You're right, there may not be."  She sat down on his
couch, resigned to let him say his peace.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Scully.  I just don't
always agree with you and I think you interpret that as
mistrust.  But think about it.  Even when I've disagreed
with you, I explore your suggestions.  And yes, sometimes
for no other reason than to prove you wrong.  But you do it
too.  And I expect you to, it's what's kept me honest all
these years--knowing that you will try to prove me wrong. 
And finally when no other answer makes sense, your silence
tells me I'm right.  I trust you..." he said in a softer tone
as he continued, going to sit beside her.   "I trust you
with my life, and whatever is left of my reputation.  I
know how much it has cost you to stay with me at the FBI." 
He lowered his eyes to the floor before continuing.  "I
know how people have talked about you, what they've said
about me and how you've defended me."

He stopped and looked at her, trying to catch her eye.  She
could feel his eyes on her, feel the truth and power of
what he was saying.  But just at this moment, it wasn't
enough and she wasn't glad to hear it.  How could it be
this easy?  Like a fresh coat of paint on the tired old
living room walls, could he just say he loved her and she'd
fall into his arms, and the rest would magically work
itself out?  The hell it would.  

"I... I don't  know what to say." She said, all the wind gone
from her sails.  All her carefully planned speeches, the
ones she'd rehearsed so many times and this time was
determined to deliver and act on, now rendered useless.  

"I can see that."  He said, a bit shaken.  He stood up,
moving away from her to the safety of his desk.  Sitting
down slowly in the swivel chair with the sudden realization
that maybe he had waited one day too long to convince the
only woman he would ever love that she was the one.  He'd
told her before, but never tried to make her a believer.

She sighed, heavily.  "I began this day completely
convinced of what I had to do.  I need to get away..." 
Wearily, she ran her fingers through her hair.

"From me?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"Yes, from you.  For some time now I've felt that this
partnership is mostly about you, what you want, what
happens in your life.  It started with your sister, then
your father, and even me.  I was your obsession for a
while, when I was sick.  Then the conspiracy took over, the
aliens, the impending doom of the planet.  And somewhere in
there, I got lost."

Had she really said that out loud?  This mantra had been in
her head for so long, something she repeated over and over
to herself in case one day she had the nerve to say it. 
And now she'd done it, but nowhere in that scenario had
Mulder told her he was in love with her.  That surely put a
different spin on things.

When she looked at him again, to her astonishment he was a
heartbeat away from tears.  The look of disappointment and
pain on his face was a terrible thing, one she could not
bear.

"I'm going now, I'm taking some time off.  I would
appreciate it if you didn't try to contact me for a while. 
I need some time, Mulder.  I need to put all this into some
sort of perspective and I can't do it with you...."

He stood up, and loosened his tie, aware suddenly that
there was not enough air in the room.  "No, no, I can
see---you're right.  You should take some time."  He moved
to the front door and opened it, waiting while she passed
him and stood in the hallway.

She didn't know how to say goodbye.  She was so confused,
and in a mild state of panic over the events of the last
hour.  She looked back at him, trying to assess his state
of mind.  This part she hadn't rehearsed.  Saying goodbye
to him was something she'd never envisioned.

Sensing her dilemma, he went to her and folded her into his
arms.  To his surprise she hugged him back.  "Take care of
yourself, Scully," he whispered then released her.  She
turned and began to move slowly down the hall.   At the
elevator, she stopped and closed her eyes, hearing the door
of his apartment close slowly behind her.  She rushed from
the building before giving way to the fit of tears she felt
she had earned.  

***********************

It was three days before he could admit to himself the
possibility that she was gone, and maybe for good.  The
first night, he sat on his couch, staring mindlessly at the
television.  How many times had she sat beside him on that
very couch, quiet, maybe lost in her own thoughts?  How
many times had she dropped by to deliver results of an
autopsy she'd stayed late to finish, and he'd offered her a
beer or a glass of wine and they sat and talked about
things?  Why had he never seized those moments when he had
her there to convince her of the depth of his feelings?

The second night he spent in a bar not far from his house. 
Alone with his thoughts, he drank too much and had to walk
home.  Adding insult to injury, the sky opened up and it
rained on him.  Somehow sure he deserved to catch
pneumonia, he took his time, the miserable night matching
his feelings.  

Had he really ignored how she was feeling? How could he
have misread her so completely?  Had she resented him all
this time?

The third night he brought a bottle home and drank himself
into a stupor.  With the world's worse hangover he called
in sick the next day and never got out of bed.  By the time
he realized he was acting like an idiot, a week had gone by
that he couldn't remember.  When he returned to work,
Skinner called him on the carpet and chewed his ass for
about half an hour.  He suggested Agent Mulder seek some
professional help.  

****************
Assistant Director Skinner was aware that the well-oiled
machine that had been the X-Files and the two agents
assigned there were experiencing some problems.  They spent
more and more cases on opposite ends of a telephone. 
Scully's reports all began to sound the same.  It was
becoming obvious to the bureau and she'd been "phoning it
in" for some time.  Mulder, however, continued to pursue
cases that no one else was interested in, and frequently
some interesting conclusions had been reached.  They
weren't rational--exactly, and science couldn't explain
them, but that was precisely what made them an X-file.

He had tried to speak to Mulder about Agent Scully's
decision to take a leave of absence.  Trying to get
information out of Mulder about his partner was like
pulling teeth now.  His only explanation was that he was
unable to explain what went on in Scully's mind anymore.  

But clearly, this break in their working relationship was
personal in nature.  He had never known Mulder to be a
drinking man, but he was on his way now.  He would have to
take some action soon.  A drunk with a badge and a gun was
a bad combination.

End of Part 1 of 4

********************

A Fresh Coat of Paint (2 of 4)
By Anna Chait


After her encounter with Mulder, she got in her car and
drove.  Her bags had been packed and she'd spoken to
Skinner and there was nothing left to keep her there. 
Nothing but Mulder.

With no real plan, she just drove.  She stopped when she
reached Florida.  She didn't know anyone there and she
could think in peace.  

Right.  Peace.  That seemed like an impossible dream. 
Quiet, maybe.  Quietness in her mind.  What could she do to
stop the noise in her head?  Where was her life going?

When she was young there were dreams of becoming a doctor,
marrying some wonderful man and raising a family.  She
wanted it all-- like everyone else, and all the women's
magazines assured her she could get it.  These women put
their careers first as if that was the only means to
fulfillment as a human being.   But none of that had worked
out for her.  The wonderful man she met was married, had a
family of his own.  Had she made the wrong decisions or had
fate had other plans for her?  

She checked into a hotel in Key West and unpacked her
things.  She was a stranger in her own skin now.  Nothing
felt right.  Who would she hurt  if she never went back? 
She could call up and resign, have her mother pack up her
stuff and send it to her.  She might get a job in Miami or
Orlando.  There were other things she could do.  She could
teach.  She was a forensic pathologist, after all.  She
could work for the police, a university, do medical
research.  

There were many things she could do, but what did she want
to do.  Long afternoons sitting under an umbrella on the
beach left her with one thing she knew for sure.  She used
to enjoy working at the FBI.  She enjoyed being involved in
important matters.  She relished solving mysteries, even if
the solution presented more mysteries to solve.  Even after
the reprimands and suspensions, the whispers in the
hallways, gossip and conjecture, she had enjoyed her years
there.  She felt she'd been part of something productive
and useful.  What if her life hadn't turned out as planned.
 Whose did anyway?  You could plan your life out
meticulously, but one small thing could change your course
irrevocably.  One thing like Fox Mulder.

Destiny seemed to have a plan of it's own where he was
concerned.  His life hadn't turned out as expected either,
not that he had any expectations.  His life had been
consumed with his search for his sister for so long, his
expectations for it had been very low.

There!  She was doing it again.  Rationalizing for him,
putting his needs, his life's expectations before hers. 
Why did she do that?  Was it possible, could she be in love
with him?  She tried to envision her life without him, but
it came up lacking something.  With his annoying dedication
to the paranormal, his admirable dedication to truth, and
his irrational fixation with professional sports, he
enriched her life more than anyone she'd ever known.     

Was it at all possible that they might have a
future--together?  She closed her eyes in the late
afternoon sun and enjoyed the montage of images passing
through her mind.  Would he make a good husband?  She
wanted a life-partner after all.  Of that much she was
sure.  She also felt destined to have a family, perhaps not
carry them in her body, but raise children as her own. 
Would he be a good father?   Would he devote as much
passion to the pursuit of their happiness as he had to the
"truth"?   She'd only heard him speak of such things for
himself once or twice, but it was enough to let her know it
was something he'd considered.

Perhaps she'd better go home and discuss it with him.  She
needed to tell him what she wanted from life, and give him
the opportunity to respond.  It suddenly seemed very
important that she leave right away.

*********************
It had been two weeks since he'd closed the door on the
love of his heart.  What if she never came back?  Could he
go on without her at the FBI?  He wasn't sure.  But he
needed to work so he went back to occupy his mind.  He
needed to get out of his apartment and feel the movement of
life around him again, but his partner was never far from
his thoughts.   

Her accusations had cut him to the bone.  Had he been so
self-absorbed he hadn't even noticed that she was slipping
away?   Maybe she was right, but not all the time.  There
had been times when he'd come to her assistance, when she'd
connected with something in a case and taken it personally.


Most recently had been the episode with Donny Pfaster. 
Early in their partnership they'd run across Pfaster and
put him away for multiple homicides. He should have lived
out the rest of his unnatural existence behind bars.   When
he had inexplicably escaped from his prison cell, they'd
gone after him.  Somehow, that monster had ended up in
Scully's apartment holding her hostage and damn near killed
her.  In the end he'd watched her put a bullet through the
man's brain.  To Mulder's way of thinking she had a right. 
In Scully's mind, she may have overstepped her authority as
an Agent and might possibly have been under some influence
of evil.  She was still unsettled about it.

He found it hard to believe that she could be influenced by
evil.  It wasn't logical or scientific, two practices
Scully adhered to rigidly.  But given those facts, how did
she reconcile her faith?  He'd always assumed that the
conflict between their unpredictable work and her rigid
philosophies were what made her so cranky sometimes.  Now,
he was sure there was something deeper.  Maybe she needed
more from her life.  He was almost positive that Scully was
in love with him, and it probably went against her better
judgement and made her really, really mad.

He just had to trust that she would search her heart and
figure it out.  And if she didn't, maybe that was the way
it was meant to be.  Maybe it was his destiny to go it
alone.  He hoped not.

************************  

A ringing phone at three in the morning seldom brought good
news.  He rolled over and caught it on the fourth ring.

"Yeah...."

"Mulder, it's Skinner."

Somewhere deep in his sleepy brain he nourished a thought
that it might have been Scully calling to...

"Hmmmm?"

"Listen, I'm sorry to wake you.  But it's important."

He didn't like the tone in the Assistant Director's voice. 
 He sat up and scrubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to
wake up.

"What is it?"

There was a long pause, too long in Mulder's opinion.  "Is
it Scully?  What's happened?"  he asked, already out of his
bed and stepping into his jeans.

"There's been an accident.  Her car...she's in the hospital
in Savannah."

"Savannah... Georgia?  Is she okay?  What happened?"

"I'm not really sure of the details.  It's serious--she's
in a coma.  You are listed as her contact person along with
her mother.  No one has answered at Mrs. Scully's..."

"No, no.  She's gone to California to visit her
grandchildren.  I'll call her.  I'll be on the first flight
out."

"I assumed that you would be.  Call me as soon as you've
spoken with the doctors.  I'll keep a good thought for
her."

Assistant Director Skinner had always been fond of Scully. 
Sometimes he wondered if maybe it was more than a passing
fondness.  "Thank-you sir, I will."
After jotting down the name of the hospital and the
attending physician, he put his phone down and tried to
calm himself.  My God, what if....no.  Stop that.  Positive
thoughts, don't panic.  He sat on the edge of his bed
holding his head for a moment, then went to his desk and
looked up Bill Scully in his address book.  It was a
difficult call for him.  How many times had he called
Scully's mom with this kind of news?   Five, six, times? 
He shared the pertinent details, then phoned the airline
for flight information for Savannah.

Two hours later he was airborne with nothing to do but
worry.  What in the hell was Scully doing in Savannah?  Was
that where she had gone to?  What had she been doing for
the last three weeks in Savannah?

**********************
It was late in the morning by the time he arrived at the
hospital.  He identified himself and sat in the lounge
waiting for a doctor to come and talk to him.  His efforts
to pry information from the floor nurse failed.  She would
not be bullied.

A very young doctor eventually sought him out and filled
him in on her condition.

"She's in pretty bad shape, and still in a coma.  She
arrived here with a ruptured spleen and internal bleeding. 
I found a card in her wallet with her doctor's name and
we've spoken.  I understand you are her partner and she's
listed you as next of kin along with her mother?"

"Yes...I've contacted her mother and she's on her way.  Is
she going to be all right?  What about the coma?"

Surely there had to be an older doctor around. What could
this kid know about coma's?  Where were all the real
doctors?  

"Head trauma.  The swelling has caused the coma.  We took
her to surgery right away because of the bleeding.  We had
to remove the spleen and repair a few things.  But that's
not what worries me now.  She lost a lot of blood and the
swelling is severe.  She's breathing on her own, but we had
to shock her heart on the table.  The next twelve hours
should tell us more, but right now she's critical.  You can
look in on her if you like.  She's in ICU."

It was all a bit much to take in at one time.  He took a
deep breath before entering the intensive care unit.  This
was going to hurt like hell and he knew it.

She was connected to four kinds of machines and an IV unit.
 He approached her slowly, trying to take it all in.  She
looked pale and frail beneath the blankets that covered
her.  Her face was badly bruised and swollen.  A gash above
her left eye had been stitched up and it looked as if she'd
bitten through her lower lip.  She was almost
unrecognizable to him as the lovely Dana Scully.  He closed
his eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of the heart
monitor trying to take comfort in the fact that her heart
was beating strongly on it's own.    He searched for and
found her hand, clutching it between his own before sinking
to his knees beside the bed and clasping it to his lips,
then his cheek.  Her hand was so cold.

"Please, Scully.  Don't go like this.  You have to hang on.
" He whispered.  She just couldn't die, and he needed to
say it out loud.

End of part 2 of 4

A Fresh Coat of Paint (3 of 4)
By Anna Chait

He took up residence in the hallway outside the nurse's
station in the ICU.  Mrs. Scully arrived in a taxi around
three that afternoon from San Diego.  After explaining to
her what the doctor had said he took her in the see her
"baby girl".  While she stayed with Scully, he went and got
them some hot coffee. 

"Were you with her?" Margaret Scully as while blowing on
her coffee to cool it.

"No.  She'd taken some time off...well, actually... we'd argued
and she'd gone away to think for a while.  I don't know
where she was exactly.  She'd been gone three weeks.  She
told me not to try and call her."

Mrs. Scully eyed him suspiciously.  "What were you arguing
about, if you don't mind my asking?"

He looked away, considering whether or not to tell her the
truth.  Scully might not care to have her mother know the
details of her private life.  She was such a private
individual, but why lie to her mother?  "She was trying to
decide if she was going to leave the FBI.  She accused me
of not trusting her and she said she couldn't go on like
that anymore."

"That's not true, is it Fox?  You trust her, don't you?"

"Of course I trust her.  I trust her with my life.  I love
Scully.  I told her I was in love with her.  I think that's
what upset her the most."

Margaret Scully nodded her head, knowingly.  "Ah."

He eyed her suspiciously.  "What?  Ah, What?"  Had Scully
confided in her mother?

"Dana isn't the most forthcoming person about her feelings,
even to me.  But I know how mindful she is of her conduct
on the job.  I'm sure she didn't take it well when you told
her that."

"Actually, she had very little to say.  Except that she had
to get away.  So she left, and I did as she asked and left
her alone.  I hadn't heard a word from her until this
morning when Assistant Director Skinner called."

Mrs. Scully pondered all this for a while, then rendered
her version.  "What you're not saying is that she was
considering leaving you, right?"

"Yes."  It pained him greatly to admit that, and it was
evident by the look on his face.

She put her cup down and laid a hand over his in comfort. 
"I'll let you in on a secret, Fox.  Dana cares more for you
than she will admit.  If you were able to get her to think
about it at all, I'd say you had accomplished something."

He thought about all that for a while.   He hoped she was
right when she said that Scully cared for him more than she
was willing to admit.  

"Will you be all right alone for a while?  I want to go and
speak to the cop that made a report on this.  I'll be back
as soon as I can."  Impulsively, he leaned across and
kissed Scully's mom on the cheek.  "You pray for her.  I
don't think God hears me anymore."

She smiled at him weakly and patted his cheek.

*************************
It took him an hour to locate the officer that made the
report at the scene.  He was shown to the car and he was
shocked to see it.  It was a total loss.  He was able to
pry open the trunk where he found her bags.  Wherever she'd
been, she was on her way home when the accident occurred. 
The report said that she'd run a red light.  Nothing
conspiratorial, no one chasing her or trying to kill her. 
She'd merely run a light.  Something that could happen to
anyone, anytime.  He threw her things into the trunk of his
rental and returned to the hospital.

Nothing had changed, she was still in a coma.  Maggie was
not surprised to hear that something as simple as running a
light had caused this.  

"Things happen.  Bad things to good people.  And you're
wrong, Fox.  God hears you.  I know it."

"Well if he does, he might not be too happy with my
thoughts just now.  If he takes her away..."   he turned away
from her because he knew what his eyes would reveal.

"Let's not do that right now.   Let's concentrate on
keeping her here with us.  Okay?"

He nodded and took the chair beside her.  After a moment or
two, he felt her hand slip into his.  He returned the
gentle pressure, reassuring her that he understood her need
to think positively.  He was glad she was there.

**************************
Long hours into the night Mulder and Mrs. Scully waited,
pacing the hall outside the ICU area.  Occasionally, one of
them would slip in and check on her; listen to the monitors
- touch her hand or her arm.  As night dragged into dawn,
Mulder slipped out and got a couple of rooms in a hotel
just down the block from the hospital where he deposited
their luggage.  He showered and shaved before returning to
the hospital and encouraging Maggie to do the same.  She
went reluctantly and promised to lie down for a while.

It had been 24 hours since the surgery, 36 since the
accident.   Mulder was sure his heart was breaking.  He sat
in a chair by her bed for hours just listening with his
eyes closed, thinking.  She was on her way home, perhaps
she'd come to some conclusion about their situation.   What
if she never woke up?  At least he'd told her how he felt,
he wouldn't have to live with that.  She had to come out of
this.  He refused to lose anyone else.  

He was asleep in the lounge when his phone startled him. 
It was the Assistant Director checking up on things.

"Mrs. Scully has gone to the hotel for a nap.  No, she
hasn't come out of it.  The doctor says she could come out
any time, or not at all.  He's a great comfort."  He would
be if he was older.

"Well, keep me posted.   Let me know if you need anything."

Maggie returned with coffee and some breakfast sandwiches
for them.  His calorie deprived body responded immediately
to the aromas of hot coffee and food.    

"When I think of all the times she's taken care of
me--watched over me and directed treatments.  As a doctor,
she's saved my life many times.  It's just so damn
frustrating!  All I can do for her is worry and pace. 
She's always been there for me, you know?  She's really a
wonderful woman and the best friend I ever had."

Mrs. Scully smiled at him patiently.  "You really do love
her, don't you?  I'm happy that Dana has you to love her. 
Of all the men she's known, you are the one she's stayed
with.  You are the one she respects and admires.  I know
that she loves you, even if she hasn't said so."

If anyone else had said this to him, he would have shrugged
if off as some mindless platitude, a sincere attempt at
comfort, and forgotten about it.  But he shared a special
closeness with Scully's mother--sometimes more than he'd
had with his own mother.  It meant a lot to him that she
would share this with him.  

*******************************
He was beginning to show signs of the strain.  It had been
four days, and still she remained locked inside the coma. 
Mulder refused to leave her side.  He sat for hours staring
at her, willing her eyes to open and a smile find her lips
for him.  Or he would turn his chair to the window and
stare out at the sky.  Some of the swelling in her face had
gone down and they removed the tube from her throat.  But
she lay silent and still.  

He had almost convinced himself that it would be enough for
him if she would just wake up.  If she would open her eyes
and tell him she never wanted to see him again, that would
be all right.  At least he could think of her alive
somewhere on the planet.  The alternative, the world
without Dana Scully, was completely uninviting.  No one to
needle him about his eating habits, no one to instruct in
the fine art of hitting a baseball, no one to smirk at his
off-color remarks...no, that world was not one he cared to be
a part of.

"Come on, Scully.  Enough of this already.  Wake up!"  

He sat and recited every poem he could think of, as much
Shakespeare as he knew, even sang songs from his repertoire
of favorites, trying everything he could think of to make
her want to come out of it and tell him to shut the hell
up.  Each night he fell asleep at her bedside, wrapping her
hand around his neck for comfort.

**************************
Maggie Scully poked her head in on the morning of the fifth
day to find him asleep with his head on his folded arms. 
Poor man, he was genuinely heartbroken.  Not from guilt
this time, but worry because he loved her.  As she watched,
she noticed Dana's fingers move.  She rushed forward and
stared at her hand.  Yes! Her fingers were moving.  The
hand at the back of Fox's head brushed over his hair and
startled him awake.  His eyes immediately scanned her face
for some sign of consciousness, then looked to Mrs. Scully
for confirmation that he'd felt it.

"Did you see it?" he asked breathlessly.  Mrs. Scully
nodded and smiled at him.  As they watched, her eyes opened
slowly, then closed again.

"Scully!  Can you hear me?  Come on, wake up."

He fumbled in the sheets for the call button.  The nurse
came quickly and on realizing what was happening left to
page the doctor.

Mulder nervously rubbed her hands in his and talked to her,
trying to keep a level of noise up for her mind to
concentrate on.  By the time the doctor came, her eyes were
open.  Mulder moved out of the way and went to stand with
Mrs. Scully, who wrapped her arm around his waist.  Come
on, baby girl, she repeated over and over.  You can do it,
you know you want to be here with us.  
She felt Mulder's arm around her shoulder as they waited
patiently.

"Well," the doctor began.  "Looks like she may be coming
out of it.  I'd like to send her up for a brain scan..."

More tests, more cautions optimism.  She was returned to
her room in an hour and appeared more alert than before. 
Her mother kissed her cheek and held her hand while Mulder
explained what happened.  She appeared to have heard, then
closed her eyes to sleep again.

**********************************

It was two days before she was completely aware of her
surroundings.  Mulder's heart leapt in his chest when his
name was the first sound she uttered.

It was late, well after midnight.  He was in his usual
position; reclining in a chair, feet in the window sill,
head resting against her bed.  As always, he held her hand.
 When he felt it move away, he startled himself awake.  It
was then that he heard the most beautiful sound.  Her
voice, raspy from lack of use,  whispering his name.

"Mulder?"

He jumped from the chair and bent over her.

"I'm here, Scully.  Right here." He tenderly stroked her
forehead and leaned over and kissed her cheek.  "Welcome
back."

She opened her eyes, and for the first time in days really
looked at him.  "Mulder, you look terrible."

He chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed.  "I know.  How
do you feel?"
His eyes scanned her face.  That look of confusion and pain
was gone from her eyes and the swelling was gone.  The ugly
bruising however left her face several shades of purple and
yellow.  Her lower lip was still a mess from where she'd
bitten down and the stiches above her left eye were still
in place.  

"Well, I have this pain in my side and a terrific headache.
 How long have I been here?"

"About a week.  Your Mom is here too.  Do you remember what
happened?"

She shook her head and braced herself for the explanation. 
If she'd been unconscious for a week it had to be bad.

"You were in a car accident.  The police report says you
ran a red light.  Your car is pretty much a total loss. 
They brought you in with head trauma and a ruptured spleen,
which they removed, by the way.  You've been in a coma for
five days and worrying the hell out of us."

She tried to sit up, but he stopped her and raised the head
of the bed for her.

"What were you doing in Savannah, Scully?"

She looked at him strangely.  "I wasn't in Savannah.  I was
in Florida, in the Keyes.  I was on my way home that day
and I guess I wasn't paying attention."

He waited a moment, hoping she would continue.  When she
didn't.  He let it drop.  "Well, can I get you something? 
Water?"

"Yeah.  Would you stay here with me?" she asked, with what
might be called a smile.

"I'm not going anywhere.   You couldn't blast me out of
this room if you tried."  He look down at her, all the love
he felt for her mixed with wild relief building up in his
chest and closing his throat.  

"No, I mean here in the bed with me."

"I might hurt you."

She shook her head.  "I don't think so.  Come on..." she
said, wincing as she tried to move to make room for him.

"No, let me..." he said and went around the bed and pulled on
the sheet, moving her with it, then returned to the other
side and stretched out beside her.  Carefully, he slipped
an arm under he shoulder and tipped her closer to him. 
When he felt her arm across his chest, he knew everything
was going to be all right.

"Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?" he
whispered.

"Oh, Mulder...I wasn't mad.  I just wasn't sure who I was
anymore.  I'm still not.  But I discovered something while
I had the time to think about it.  I don't want to be
without you."

He smiled and turned his lips into her hair.  Maybe God
does listen to me, he thought.   He didn't press for more
than that, it might be asking too much.  She'd been on her
way home to him.  It was a beginning, a place to start and
build. 

End of part 3 of 4


=====

A Fresh Coat of Paint (4 of 4)
By Anna Chait

Scully's mother returned to San Diego after extracting
promises from Mulder to take good care of her daughter
while she recuperated.  She knew that he would without
asking, but it gave him another opportunity to declare
himself and he seemed to enjoy saying it out loud so much. 
 She could see from the way he was around her, from the
look in his eyes and on his face when he was with her that
she had nothing to fear.  Her girl was in good hands.  

She also knew that Dana was ready now to accept Mulder's
love.  She had figured out how to retain her independence
while in the shadow of such a unique personality.  It must
have occurred to her that his uniqueness was one of the
things that she loved about him.

"Let me know when you get home.  I'll come if you need me. 
Promise me that you'll call."

He handed her the coffee he'd brought for her and kissed
her cheek.  Her flight had just been called and she was
going back to California.  

"Thank you."  He said softly.

She smiled up at him.  "For what?"

He looked uncomfortable for just a moment before
explaining.  "For everything.  For reassuring me that
everything would be okay, for holding my hand when I needed
it and telling me what I needed to hear.  You are one in a
million."

"And so are you, Fox."  She reached up and cupped his cheek
in her hand.  "Take care of yourself and my baby."

"I will."

When he returned from the airport, Scully was out of her
bed and seated in a chair.  Her welcoming smile was like a
blazing fire in winter.  

"The nurse says we can go outside for a while.  Will you
wheel me?"

A playful expression found his features.  "Oh, I love it
when you talk dirty."  After unlatching the brake, he
pushed her out into the hallway and toward the elevator. 
"And what is your pleasure today?  The veranda, or shall we
head for the open road?"

"Let's go out, onto the grounds.  I need to be outside."

It was a beautiful October day, warm and bright, not a
cloud in the sky.  As he pushed her along the path that led
into a park, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back,
letting it rest on the edge of the chair.  He smiled down
at her, enjoying her obvious pleasure at being outside in
the fresh air and sunshine.  Seeing a bench, he wheeled her
over and set the brake.  Seated beside her, he pulled some
gum from his pocket and offered her a piece.

"The doctor was by while you were gone.  He says I'm
recovering nicely and they want to let me go in a few
days."

"Really?  That's great.  I'll bet you can't wait to get
home and sleep in your own bed."

She raked her hands through her hair and breathed deeply. 
"I was sort of hoping we could go somewhere together before
we go home.  You know how it will be...we'll slip back into
the routine.  We need to be alone for a while.  There are
things that need to be said and settled."

"You're right," he said, taking her hand in his and raising
it to his lips.  His eyes met and held hers, and in them he
saw what he had hoped to see all those weeks ago.   "Okay,
I'll make some arrangements.  I know just the place."  

"Good.  Now kiss me before we continue this little outing."

He stood and looked at her cautiously, trying to decide how
best to handle her request.    If he kissed her properly,
as he would like to, he would surely hurt her.  The
stitches in her lip stared angrily at him amidst what would
be another scar for his partner.  The bruises around her
eyes were fading, leaving most of her face a sickly, pale,
yellow-green.   Carefully, he lowered his lips to hers,
keeping his eyes open for signs of her wincing.  But she
didn't.  She reached up for him, curling her fingers around
his ear and into his hair.  Tentatively, he deepened the
kiss.

She moved her mouth from his, trying not to giggle.  "Now
I'm certain you love me.  I got a look at myself in the
mirror today.  If you can kiss anyone who looks like this,
it must be love."

He rested his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned
forward, placing a kiss on her nose.  "You're right.  You
are quite a mess.  But the bruises will fade and the scar
will heal.  And I do love you--have for quite some time."

She cupped his face with her hands.  "Okay, handsome. 
Wheel me around the park one more time before they send out
a search party for us."

After returning her to her room and watching as she fell
asleep, he worried about what the things that need to be
"said and settled" might be.  Twice since she came out of
the coma he'd given her an opening to let her share her
feelings, and twice she'd closed the door.  Maybe she
wasn't in love with him and just looking for a gentle way
to tell him.  No, that couldn't be right.  There was
definite passion in the kiss they'd shared that afternoon. 
 Whatever it was, she was right, it needed to be settled.


The trip home would take several days given Scully's lack
of stamina after her hospital stay.  Mulder was reluctant
to keep her in the car for long.  They over-nighted in one
of those sterile cookie cutter motels, the kind they stayed
in when on a case.  Scully was asleep before she could even
remove her shoes.  Mulder walked and tried to work out the
kinks developed after a solid day of driving.  She was
still asleep when he returned.  

He sat on the bed opposite, watching her.  She was deeply
asleep, had hardly moved on the bed in nearly two hours. 
Her bruises were gone, only the scar below her lower lip
remained, and she had done her best to cover that with
makeup.  Had she always been this beautiful, this fragile
looking?  Maybe she had, but maybe her attitude and bearing
left a different impression.  For a brief moment he
considered what his life would be like without this woman. 
It was unthinkable for him, and with any luck at all not
something he'd ever have to consider.  At least not until
death did them part.


As he had so many times in his life, he awoke suddenly;
heart racing and afraid for some unknown reason.   He
turned quickly to check on his partner sleeping in the
other bed.  She wasn't there.  He raised up and looked
around the room.  No light in the bathroom;  her suitcase
was still on the chair where he left it.  As he started to
exit the bed, he felt a tug at his arm.  He reached around
quickly to find her next to him in the bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

"When I went to bed, you were over there." He said,
pointing at the empty bed across from him.  He rolled over
to face her, pushing her hair away from her eyes.  

"Yeah.  Well, I woke up and you were over here, and I don't
want to wake up anymore with you so far away.   I can't be
without you anymore."

He grinned at her.  "I have heard you say that in my dreams
so often.  Come here."  He opened his arms to her and she
settled into him, her slight frame nearly half the size of
his.  He might have imagined it be he thought
she was purring like a kitten.

"You know I've been having dreams about you, too."  She
sighed.

"Really?  Do they involve jello and are we naked?"

"No on the jello, yes on naked."  She giggled, he could
feel her body shake as she did so.  She seemed overly thin
to him, the product of a length hospital stay.  When they
got to Hot Springs he'd work on getting her healthy again.

"Well, hold on to those dreams, Scully.  Soon.  When you
get your strength back.  I need you strong and healthy for
what I have in mind.  Now, go to sleep.  It's only a short
drive tomorrow, a couple of hours.  We'll have the whole
day for pampering."

She yawned and slid one leg over his.  "Come on, Mulder. 
Where are we going?"

"Nope.  It's a surprise.  Tomorrow..."

Soon, both were asleep, entwined around each other and
happy to be.  

*************************
"There it is.  That's it, that's where we're staying."  He
pointed as he turned up the long winding drive that led to
an imposing brick building.

Autumn hugged the valley.  Color filled the mountains and
the trees are waltzing, their red and yellow leaves
shimmering like ribbons.  There was a big rain coming, you
could smell it in the air.  On the vast expanse of lawn in
front of them golfers sought the shelter of a gazebo as fat
raindrops hit the ground. 

"What is this place, Mulder?"

"While I waited for you to come out of the coma, I spent a
lot of time reading those magazines they have.  I ran
across an article on this place.  It's called The
Homestead.  They have what sounds like a wonderful spa and
I thought it would be good for you.  They have an indoor
pool and a masseuse as well as a very highly rated
restaurant.  We can stay a few days and get you back in
shape."  He smiled at her, pleased with himself. 

"You know what I like."  She said, sliding closer to him on
the seat and resting her head on his shoulder.  

In short order they had registered and were shown to their
suite.  The rooms were very colonial and charming.  After
unpacking he suggested they go and investigate this spa he
spoken of.  

Scully grabbed her swimsuit and followed him.  The pool was
immense housed in a beautiful room.  Mulder emerged from
the dressing room first and dove in, quickly lapping the
pool as Scully waded in slowly.  It was warm and felt so
good.  She dipped her head in and luxuriated in the feel of
the warm water surrounding her.  Tentatively, she tried a
few strokes, but feeling the pull on the incision from the
surgery to remove the spleen, she stopped, resting at the
side.

Mulder was at her side quickly.  "You okay?"

"Yes.  I felt some pain when I stretched to stroke.  I just
need to take it slow I guess."

"Come on." He held out his arms to her and she swam to him.
 "I'll help."  She wrapped her arms around his neck and
extended her body out behind, kicking gently with her feet
as he backed down the shallow end of the pool.  

"Is that better?"   

"Yep."  She closed her eyes and rested her head on his wet
shoulder.  It was intoxicating, the warm water and Mulder's
strong body under her hands.  After five minutes or so she
turned over, letting him support her by her shoulders.

"Okay, that's all I've got for today."   She said, standing
in the water.  "You go ahead, I'll just rest here on the
steps."

She watched him stroke hard and lap the pool ten times
before coming up in a big splash beside her.  He was a
good, strong swimmer.

"That's all for me.  How about we try a massage?"

By dinnertime they had tried the masseuse, and Mulder had
gone for another swim while Scully napped curled in a chair
beside the pool.  He had put in an order for dinner in
their room and by the time it arrived, Scully had showered
and changed.  She was looking much better.  There was color
in her cheeks again and her eyes were brighter.  

The waiter laid out the table and lit the candles before
opening the wine.  Scully watched appreciatively as the
meal was readied and the waiter exited discreetly.  Mulder
held her chair, then poured the wine and sat opposite her.

He raised his glass and offered a toast.  "To my beautiful
partner and her improving health."

Scully's eyes sparkled over the rim of her glass as she
touched it to his.  "To us."

He nodded in agreement.  "Yes.  To us."

It had to be one of the greatest meals Dana Scully had ever
eaten.  Perhaps it was the exercise, or the fresh air, or
the fact that she was completely relaxed for the first time
in a long time.  They finished up the wine on the sofa in
front on the fire.  "Thank you, Mulder.  For taking care of
me, and in such a lavish manner."

Before he responded, he weighed the pros and cons of
initiating the conversation he wanted to have.  He'd spent
weeks composing it in his mind and if he'd learned anything
in the past weeks it was was that there is no time like the
present because tomorrow may never come.

"I want to take care of you.  But I want you to be
comfortable with it.  I want to be able to express myself
in more ways that just with words, but I'm not sure what
you'll think about it.  I need...."

Scully put her glass down and turned to him.  "I know what
you need, Mulder.  And I'm ready."  She took his glass from
him and placed it beside hers on the table.  

"When I went to Florida, that was all about me.  I needed
to think about what I wanted, what I needed.  I wasn't sure
anymore what exactly would make me happy.  I won't bore you
with all the stuff going on in my head then because I think
I lost my mind for a while.  But I finally figured it out
that I want you.  I need you with me, I need you in my
life.  I love for so many reasons, but the most important
is just for who you are.  I don't want you to change, I
want for you what will make you happy.  I just want you to
be the best you you can be.  And I was on my way home to
tell you all this when I ran that light."

His eyes took in all of Dana Scully, from her head to her
toes, committing this moment in time to memory.  He wanted
the image burned into his mind's eyes permanently.   He
wanted to be able to recall this day, this hour, this
conversation, at any given moment in the future.  He
gathered her in his arms and held her tightly for a long
while, hoping that some of what was in his heart would pass
through his body into hers, because he was sure he could
never say all that he felt.  There would be no way to put
it into words.  Then he pulled  away, still holding her but
needing to see her face.  "God, I didn't think I was going
to get another chance with you."

"It is like a new beginning, isn't it?"  Before she could
say another word his mouth was on hers, kissing her,
drugging her with the actions of his hands on her skin as
he sought contact beneath her clothes.  

"I'd really like to take you into the bedroom and make love
to you for hours, but I'm not sure you're up to it just
yet."

She traced the long, clean line of his nose, then let her
fingers trail over his lips.  Her mind imagined his mouth
on her skin, his strong hands and long fingers cascading
over her, sparking feelings she'd waited so long to explore
with him.  "You know," she said as she unbuttoned the first
two buttons on his shirt, pushing back the warm fabric and
admiring the expanse of his shoulders and chest.  "You need
to relax Mulder.  Go with the flow."

"You could barely make a whole lap in the pool and you
think you'll be able to do this?"  

He was serious.  She could see it in his eyes. 
Reluctantly, she agreed.  "You may be right.  It's been a
long day and I am tired."

"Well, if that's the case, you better stop that." He
chuckled, staying her hands with his own.  

She smiled up at him, seeing the playful look in his eyes
that looked greener than usual this night.  "Can I kiss you
again?"

"Be still my heart."  He kissed her again, long and
lavishly, then got up and re-buttoned his shirt.  Scully
stared at him curiously.  "Where are you going?  You not
leaving are you?"

"I need to get some air and cool off.  I'll be back."  He
smiled reassuringly at her.  "You get ready for bed and
I'll be back soon."

When he was gone, she cleaned up the table and pushed the
cart into the hall.  Poor Mulder.  He knew when he brought
her here that she wasn't one hundred percent physically and
that they'd have to wait, yet he let her touch him and kiss
him.  She knew now what she wanted from him.  And he knew. 
And soon they would get it.  

She changed for bed and brushed her teeth, then turned down
the bed.  The fire in the grate burned low and she pulled a
chair close and wrapped herself in a blanket, waiting for
him to come back.  

She ran the events of the past weeks through her mind. 
They'd been gone from work more than a month.  Skinner must
be made as hell by this time, but it couldn't be helped. 
Once again, regardless of the damage to his reputation or
his career, he was following through on something he
started.  He'd been with her nearly every moment since his
arrival at the hospital.  The nurses there had told her of
his devotion and concern for her.  How could she ever have
thought of letting him go?

He was gone almost forty-five minutes, but looked calmer
when he returned.

"Feeling better?" she asked, innocently.

He laughed, a little embarrassed.   "Yeah.  I guess I got a
little excited."

"I'm sorry.  If you want, I can sleep on the couch."

"Right.  Like I would sleep a wink with you on the couch. 
Go on, get in that bed, woman!"  He ordered her with a
machismo he neither felt nor meant.  "I think we can deal
with this.  You just have to watch the hands."

He was a long time in the bathroom, showering and brushing
and flossing.  Scully laid in the big four-poster wondering
if he wasn't in there relieving the sexual tension that had
built during the day.  She could barely keep her eyes open,
but she made a note that someday, and very soon, she and
Mulder would know the delights of each others bodies.  It
was a delicious thought as she drifted off to sleep, waking
only briefly as she felt the warmth of the man she loved
slip into the bed and wrap his body around hers from
behind.  Maybe a fresh coat of paint was what they had
needed after all.  A new start from a fresh perspective. 
If they could take the best of what they had experienced so
far and mix it with the love they felt for each other,
maybe they had a chance.

His warmth added with hers, completing the day perfectly. 
She may have dreamed it, but as sleep claimed her she
thought she heard his voice in her ear.  "I love, Dana
Scully.  Someday soon you and I are going to get married
and raise a family and have all those things you think
you've missed.  Whatever you want, whatever you need, count
on me."

End of story (4 of 4)

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

A note from Anna:  If you enjoyed this I'd love to hear
from you.   E-mails are gratefully received and
acknowledged.  I began writing XF fan-fiction four years
ago.  In the beginning there were lot's of things about the
relationship between M&S that I needed to work out my way
and stories came quickly then.  Since that time episodes
have left unresolved issues that I wanted to explore. 
Sadly, I find fewer things I need to explain or resolve of
late.  Hopefully a new season with the serious plot twists
thrust upon us in Requiem will inspire me.  I wait
anxiously.

Anna Chait
paperheart_42@yahoo.com
July 2000



=====
anna ;-) (aka paperheart)