From ghill52695@aol.com Thu Dec 05 12:11:54 1996 I'm posting this story for Danielle Culverson (smythja@aston.ac.uk). Please send all comments her way, as I'm sure she would love to hear what you think of her story! Subj: Friend 1/3 Date: 96-12-05 11:04:02 EST From: smythja@aston.ac.uk (smythja) Reply-to: smythja@aston.ac.uk To: GHill52695@aol.com This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. Rating - 15. Minor referrals to "Darkness Falls", "End Game", and "Paper Clip". Thanks again to Gerry Hill for getting my stories on-line for me. - You're a star, Gerry! Danielle Culverson. "Friend." Part 1/3. Saint Cecilia's church, Annapolis, Maryland. 11.03am, 7th July 1998. The white Rolls Royce drew up outside the church to the excited screams of the few family and friends not yet inside. The grey-suited chauffeur got out and opened the back door. The photographer rushed up with his assistant in tow carrying a huge camera bag over her shoulder, and a large flashgun in her hands. He took a couple of pictures through the door, and then stepped back to let the chauffeur help the bride out of the car. Dana Scully stepped out into the sunlight, and her two bridesmaids rushed over to help straighten her dress. She looked radiant in the white dress with pale blue trim. Her hair had been carefully styled and set by her hairdresser that morning. She wore the pearl necklace that had been handed down through her family, with a pair of crystal earrings her fiance had given her for her birthday five months earlier. After a short, mad greeting of people, everyone disappeared into the church. Dana followed with her two bridesmaids behind her. Dana stood waiting at the back of the church, looking at the rows of heads in front of her. All the ladies in the congregation wore fancy hats, and all the men were neatly groomed. The "top table" guests, - close family and friends of the bride and groom, - wore blue and white buttonholes. The little round bouquets of white and pale blue flowers which hung at the end of each pew matched the larger one which she held in her hands. She stood alone. She supposed that if her father were still alive, he would have stood with her, and if Melissa were still alive, she would have been her chief bridesmaid. But as it was, she stood alone, feeling separated from the two young bridesmaids. And waited. She could see her mother, who was wearing one of the fanciest hats in the congregation, - as a bride's mother should. - She sat in the second pew, alongside one of Dana's two brothers. - The other had been unable to make it, and had sent his best wishes to the happy couple, and a plea for a copy of the video. The organ, - tuned earlier that week in preparation for the ceremony, - began to play "The Bridal March". Dana moved slowly down the centre aisle, almost painfully aware of the eyes throughout the congregation that followed her progress. She felt like Cinderella at the ball in her princess dress as she made her way slowly forwards towards the altar. She took in every detail she could through the gauze of her veil, - the outfits of the people she passed, the decorations around the church, the smiling faces. Dana's eyes roamed the congregation, searching out the people she knew. She saw some of her colleagues from the FBI and Quantico sitting in a group. She saw the Lone Gunmen, - Frohike was smiling, but he looked near tears. Byers was staring off into the distance, and looked like he was somewhere else entirely. Then she saw Mulder, her FBI partner of four years. He was sitting in the pew behind her mother and brother. He turned his face towards her as she approached, his green eyes drinking her in, his light grey suit neatly fitted, with the unobtrusive buttonhole of blue and white flowers at the lapel. He mouthed a word as she passed. "Stunning." Dana reached the altar, and stood at the side of her fiance. The organ ceased playing. There was an awed silence throughout the congregation, which the priest broke. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the presence of God, to witness the joining of this man and this woman, in the sacred vows of holy matrimony..." Dana glanced up at the face of the man at her side, and he smiled at her. The priest's words reached her through a haze as her thoughts drifted. "Do you, Harris John Kimble, take this woman, Dana Katherine Scully, to be your lawful wedded wife? Will you love and protect her, honour and cherish her, and forsaking all others from this day forward, according to God's holy law?" "I will." "And you, Dana Katherine Scully. Do you take this man, Harris John Kimble, to be your lawful wedded husband? Will you love and protect him, honour and cherish him, and forsaking all others from this day forward, according to God's holy law?" "I will." Dana answered. The next few words passed over her, until suddenly she realised the priest was speaking to her again. "Dana, would you repeat after me, - I, Dana Katherine Scully," "I, Dana Katherine Scully," "do take thee, Harris John Kimble," "do take thee, Harris John Kimble," "to be my lawful wedded husband," the priest continued. "to be my lawful wedded husband," "to have and to hold," "to have and to hold," Dana echoed. She repeated the words as she had so often in dreams in the recent weeks, not needing the priest's prompts. "for richer, for poorer,... for better, for worse,... in sickness and in health,... in good times and in bad,... until death do us part." "Does someone have the rings?" the priest asked. One of Harris' friends stepped forward, and placed the two gold bands on the open Bible the priest held. The rings were blessed. "With this ring, I thee wed." Dana whispered as she slid the larger gold band onto Harris' finger. The priest smiled. "And now, by the power vested in me, I declare you to be man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man tear asunder." He paused, and then added, "You may kiss the bride." Dana carefully lifted back her veil, and looked up into the eyes of her new husband. She smiled her rare and beautiful smile. Then Harris took her into his arms, and kissed her. There was applause from the congregation as they broke apart, and they walked down the aisle, both grinning like teenagers. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 7.18pm, 22nd August 2002. Mulder dropped into a crouch in front of his t.v., and surveyed his video selection. He pulled one of the tapes out, and slotted it into the front of his video machine. Then, grabbing the remote controls for t.v. and video, he switched the t.v. on, and went to slump on his couch. The adverts passed in a haze of forward picture search. Then the opening credits went up. He turned the volume up slightly, and waited for the film to begin. There was a knocking at the apartment door. "Who on Earth...?" Mulder hurriedly stopped the tape, and went to the door. Peering through the peep-hole, he saw the figure of his ex-partner waiting outside. He opened the door. "Scull..." he broke off, remembering that she wasn't "Scully" any more. "Dana? What are you doing here?" "I thought I'd come and see you." she replied, "It's been a long time." "It's been three years." Mulder corrected, "And that's just since your wedding. - Five years since we split up." She nodded. "Come in." he stepped aside to let her enter. She glanced around at the apartment, and smiled slightly. "Nothing much has changed around here." she commented. Mulder shrugged. "It's how I like it. - Would you like a drink, Dana?" "Tea would be nice." Mulder went into the kitchenette, a slight worried frown on his face. Something was wrong, - she wouldn't meet his eyes... Or maybe it was just that they had been apart so long. He made the tea and took it to her. Dana had sat down on his couch, and was watching the documentary in progress with detached interest. "How's Harris?" he asked. "He's fine." Dana replied, "He's working on a really big case." "You two still getting on alright?" "Yes, fine." she answered, but still wouldn't meet his gaze. Mulder was now certain she was hiding something from him. He knew he would have to tread carefully with this. "So, what made you think of coming to see "Spooky" Mulder after all this time?" Dana smiled slightly, and Mulder was pleased he could still amuse her, even if it was by making fun of himself. "I... I wanted a friend to talk to." she told him, "With my work, and Harris' work, I seem to have lost touch with all of my old friends. I hoped your's would be one acquaintance that could be re-established." "Oh." Mulder gazed at her, thinking how beautiful she was. Then he tore his eyes away, and cut off his thoughts. - She was married now, and further from his reach than she had ever been. - But seeing her again made him realise just how much his heart still ached for her... "How are the X-files?" Dana asked. "Oh, *they* haven't managed to shut me down yet. - Ten years now. I've got a *lot* of files!" "I bet." Was that just him, or was there a wistful look in her eyes? "Say, Dana, do you want to watch a film or something?" Her eyebrows rose, "What *sort* of film?" "I dunno. - Whatever you fancy. Or something on t.v." He tossed her the t.v. guide, and she caught it deftly. Ten minutes later they were both engrossed in an adventure film. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 6.37pm, 19th January 2003. Mulder tried to persuade his toast to stay in the toaster. After a long hard struggle of man against machine, he resorted to just holding the lever down until the toast was ready. Looking around the kitchenette, his eyes fell on the new calender. - January 2003. - He shook his head in disbelief. He'd been born in the last century! Gosh that made him feel old. There was a knock at the door. Reluctantly he allowed the toast to spring out of the toaster again, and went to the door. He opened it without bothering to use the peep-hole. "Dana?" A look of surprise crossed his face, and he stepped to one side to let her come in. "Hi." "Hi." she returned, and went over to the couch and sat down. "Umm... I was just making some toast. You want some?" "No, thanks. - But a cup of tea would go down well." Mulder nodded, and headed back into the kitchenette. It had been five months since Dana's last visit, and he could tell that whatever had been bothering her then was still bothering her. He carried the tea to her, and sat down in one of the armchairs. He watched her closely as he ate his toast, and she drank her tea, taking in her short, cautious movements, the guilty look in her eyes, and the slight awkwardness of her posture. Finally he voiced his fears. "Dana, what's wrong?" "Nothing." she said quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine." "Dana, I *know* you. - You're not "fine". - You've come round here for a reason, and I want to know what that reason is." "I just wanted to talk to a friend." "Well I'm very pleased to see you, and glad to talk to you, - but why can't you talk to Harris?" "I..." she hesitated, and Mulder knew he had reached the crack in her defenses, "He's very busy, and... he doesn't always understand." "You argue?" Mulder asked perceptively. She nodded. "Sometimes, yes, a bit. - I just wanted to talk to someone else." Mulder looked closely at his ex-partner, "What do you argue about?" "Just little things." Dana replied quickly, "The house not being clean enough, the dinner not being ready. - Little things." Mulder felt there was a lot more to it than this, but he was cautious of pushing her. "You know, I'm always here when you want someone to talk to." "Thank you." she glanced over at the t.v., "What were you doing tonight?" "Doing? What do I ever do? - Watching t.v. and falling asleep on my couch at some unearthly hour, what else?" "Mind if I stay awhile?" she asked. "No, of course not." Mulder switched the t.v. on, and moved his chair around so he could see it. His thoughts wouldn't stay on the film though, and he kept thinking about Dana. - He enjoyed spending personal time like this with her so much. He felt his breathing catch every time he gazed at her, and his heart pounded in his chest when he though about her. He wanted to hold her close to him, but... But she was a married woman. She wasn't his to hold. And it wasn't right that he should want to hold her. He cut off his thoughts. End of part 1. I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-Philes. Email me at . Danielle Culverson. From ghill52695@aol.com Thu Dec 05 12:16:46 1996 I'm posting this story for Danielle Culverson (smythja@aston.ac.uk). I'm sure she would appreciate hearing any comments about it that you may have! Subj: Friend 2/3 Date: 96-12-05 11:02:24 EST From: smythja@aston.ac.uk (smythja) Reply-to: smythja@aston.ac.uk To: GHill52695@aol.com This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. Rating - 15. Danielle Culverson. Part 2/3. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 8.04pm, 5th February 2003. Mulder sat at his table with a case-folder open in front of him, poring over the information. The X-file case he was working on was strange. It revolved around a series of murders, several of which had occurred in apparently impossible places. - One of a scientist who was working in a laboratory alone, with the only access locked from the inside. One of a wealthy businessman who'd been murdered while alone for two minutes in his twentieth floor office, with his secretary and two others working outside the only door in. One of an airplane pilot who'd been flying solo when he was killed. In each case the cause of death was one fatal stab wound in the chest. The knife was left at the scene of the crime each time. There was a knock at the door. Mulder got up and went to open it. It was Dana. "Hi." she smiled, "Busy?" "Umm.. yeah, I'm working on an X-file case. - Want to come in and take a look? Maybe your rational mind can come up with an explanation. Mine sure can't." Dana shrugged and grinned as she came in, "Never thought I'd see the day when *you* were stumped for a theory." "Well I'm not, but my best proposal is going to be a little difficult to prove..." Mulder trailed off. Dana removed her coat, and went to the table. She picked up the case summary, and read it through. An eyebrow rose. "Tooms again?" "I doubt it, not with the airplane." "There's no way the deaths could have been caused remotely?" "How can you have a remote stabbing?" Mulder asked. He glanced down at the photograph of the crashed plane. "I don't know." Dana shook her head. Mulder's eyes fell on the back of her neck, and the small scar there from the removal of the micro-chip which had been implanted in her during her "abduction". He felt a pang of guilt at his own ineffectuality at protecting her, and tore his eyes away from the smooth curve of her neck. Dana put the case summary back on the table, "Are they *sure* there was no way another person could have got to the victims?" "No normal person could have." Mulder corrected. "And they're sure there wasn't part of another body in the plane crash?" "Yes. - It's as though someone were only present at each incident long enough to commit the crime..." Mulder broke off, "That's it!" he cried, "The person was only there long enough to commit each crime, before leaving again. - The crimes were committed by a teleporter!" "What?" Dana's eyebrows arched sceptically. "A teleporter, someone who can transport themselves..." "Yes, Mulder, I know what a teleporter is." Dana sighed, "But as for the practicality of the suggestion..." "So how else could the victims have been murdered?" Mulder countered. Dana sighed and turned away from the table, shaking her head. She knew Mulder would have set his heart on this one now, and there was no way she could talk him out of it. She went to one of the armchairs, and sat down. Mulder went over to the couch. He swung his long legs up so that they rested across it, and he was facing Dana. He noticed her glance at her watch. "You got an appointment?" "No..." she shook her head, "I just don't want to stay too long. - Harris will worry." "But you've only been here ten minutes!" Mulder exclaimed. She nodded. "I know, but he's very protective. He likes to know where I am, - that I'm alright." Mulder frowned slightly, and said nothing. It sounded to him like Dana's husband was quite possessive. - Although that wasn't surprising, Mulder considered, as his eyes drifted over her, taking in every detail of her appearance, - anyone would feel possessive and protective if they were married to a woman as beautiful and intelligent as Dana. His eyes came to rest on her face, and he could so easily imagine himself stroking the creamy skin of her cheek, running his fingers through her thick auburn hair, kissing those sensuous full lips... Mulder dragged himself from the pleasant daydream, suddenly aware that Dana had noticed his intense stare. God, this was hard, - it had been bad enough when they were partners, spending hours and hours together working, but when she was here, in his apartment, spending her personal time with him, and looking so much like she needed him to help her somehow... Mulder got to his feet before he embarrassed himself any further by being unable to keep his eyes off her. "You want anything to eat or drink, Dana?" "No, thanks." came the reply. Mulder fixed himself a strong coffee, hoping it would bring him to his senses. He returned to the main room and sat down. Dana had stood up, and was looking at the photographs he had on his bookcase. She picked up one of his father and looked at it in silence for a moment before turning back to Mulder. "Did you ever find out what happened to Krycek?" she asked. Mulder shook his head. "No, he and the tape disappeared of the face of the Earth. - Maybe literally." Dana smiled at the idea, and put the photograph back. Then her gaze fell on one of Mulder's mother. "How's your mother lately? Are you getting on better?" "Yes, better than we did. - I think she's accepted that I didn't kill Dad, but she's still uncertain about my trading the Samantha-clone for you when we were looking for the alien bounty hunter." Dana nodded, and picked up a photograph of Mulder's sister, Samantha, taken shortly before she disappeared. "No, I haven't found anything new." Mulder second-guessed her next question. Dana smiled that even after all this time he still seemed to always know what she was thinking. Then her face clouded over as she remembered that her husband never knew what she was thinking of feeling. - Or if he did, he didn't care. She glanced at her watch. "I'd better be going." "So soon?" "Harris will be worried if I don't come back. - Then there'll be an argument when I do." Dana picked up her coat from the back of the chair she had left it on, and slipped it on. "You're still arguing a lot?" Mulder asked, and received a faint nod and another glance at her watch in reply. "I'll come around again soon." Dana promised as she headed to the door, "I can't say when, but soon." Mulder watched as she opened the door and went out, and wondered why his chest ached and felt empty when the door closed between them, cutting her from his view. Finishing his coffee, he got to his feet and went back to the table. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 6.48pm, 11th February 2003. Mulder wandered into his kitchenette and opened the fridge door. Squatting down in front of the lighted cabinet, he surveyed it's interior and speculated on what to eat for dinner. He didn't seem to have had a decent meal for some time, and he felt he deserved a proper home-cooked meal. There was a knock at the door. He got to his feet and headed out of the kitchenette to see who was there. It was Dana. She gave him a small smile, and her eyes twinkled when he opened the door and invited her in. He took her coat, and his eyes strayed down her back from her shoulders, and then on down her legs, - what he could see of them below the mid-calf length skirt she wore. - He hung her coat up quickly, and followed her into the main area of the apartment. She stopped by the couch, and turned slightly towards him. He smiled, and then tried to hide his pleasure in simply looking at her with a flustered gesture towards the kitchenette. "Umm... I was just getting dinner. - I always promised you I'd cook for you one day. How about tonight?" he hoped he wasn't presuming too much. Dana smiled. "That would be nice. - Can I help?" Mulder waved a hand in dismissal as he turned and went into the kitchenette, needing to put a wall between himself and her before he did or said something foolish. He called through to her. "Sit down and watch t.v or something if you want. - I won't be long." And with that he set about making a lasagne. It was something she had often eaten when they were on cases together, so he knew exactly how she liked it. From the main room, the sound of a nature program reached his ears. Once the lasagne was cooking, and the table set, Mulder went to join Dana in front of the t.v. Yet again he found his concentration wandering towards her. His chest ached when he looked at her, and he found himself wondering what her reaction would have been if he'd had the courage to tell her how he felt before she left the X-files department. Would she have hated him for it? Been embarrassed and run away from it? Teased him about it? Or would she have revealed similar feelings for him? Mulder knew that last thought was just wishful thinking. Dana had always been far too practical and professional to allow herself feelings of that nature for someone she worked with. Had they met in another situation, things might have been different, but... What was the use? He knew she was far beyond his reach, and beyond what he deserved. Why did he have to keep tormenting himself with thoughts of her? Sometimes he hated his photographic memory, which preserved every image of her, every expression, every word she said, and held it in crystal clarity so it could torment him again and again. Mulder was startled from his thoughts by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping, signaling the readiness of the meal. He got to his feet. "Dinner is about to be served, madam," he told Dana, "if you would like to seat yourself at the table." Dana smiled at the expression on his face, and went to the table. Mulder headed for the kitchenette to dish up the meal. He returned three minutes later with two plates of steaming lasagne. Dana's eyes widened appreciatively when she saw it. He sat down opposite her, and they began the meal. Mulder wasn't sure whether or not he regretted having to sit opposite her. Every time he looked up, he couldn't help but look at her, which was both embarrassing and enjoyable at the same time. His eyes fixed on her face, and he watched her eat. Her hair was quite curly today, and the right side hung loose against the side of her head, while the left side was tucked behind her ear. She kept her face slightly lowered as she ate, her eyes on her food, and didn't seem to notice his intense gaze. Dana picked up her glass of orange juice, and took a few sips. In doing so, her hair shifted slightly, and Mulder caught sight of what he instantly realised her hair had been left loose to hide, - a short cut on the top of her cheek, and inch or so below and to the side of the corner of her right eye. "Dana?" Mulder put his fork down, and reached across the table to brush her hair away so he could see the cut properly, "What happened?" She smiled foolishly, "Cut myself." she answered, "I was so stupid. - I was putting the plates and glasses away, and I knocked one of the wine glasses Tricia Ditton gave Harris and I for a wedding gift off the top shelf of the cupboard. It smashed on the work-surface, and one of the pieces of glass caught me. - It's nothing, don't worry about it." she smiled, and took another mouthful of lasagne. "This is beautiful, you've got it just how I like it." "I aim to please." Mulder smiled, as he finished clearing his plate. - As usual he had eaten much faster than her. - He waited patiently until she finished, and then cleared the table. She came to stand in the doorway of the kitchenette as he tidied up. "So, how did that case finish up in the end?" she asked, "The one you thought involved a teleporter?" Mulder shrugged, "Unsolved. - I found out the connection between the victims. They were all involved in a government project labeled "Arctic Angel", but I wasn't able to find out anything about the project, or the person responsible for the murders, who I suspect was sent by some organisation or other to slow the project. The murders have stopped, and there is no more evidence to go on." "So you still believe a teleporter is involved?" "Definitely." Dana had to smile at the serious look on Mulder's face. He smiled at the sceptical look on hers. "Ah, Dana, the ever sceptical unbeliever. - One of these days I'll find a way to prove to you everything you're sceptical of, and then you'll be like me." "Spooky?" Dana suggested. Mulder grinned. "That too." He thought for a moment, "Hey, do you want to play a game?" "That depends on what sort of game you had in mind, Fox Mulder." Dana answered, her voice lightly accusing. He put on an expression of hurt innocence. "A board game! - Or a card game." Dana glanced at her watch, and Mulder noticed the look. "Will Harris be wondering where you are?" he hazarded. "Oh no, I told him I was going to a girlfriend's for the evening." Dana broke off, suddenly realising how that sounded. "I just wondered what time it was. - Sure, I'd love to play a game. - How about Monopoly?" "How about Trivial Pursuits?" "I wasn't aware they had a category on the paranormal." "I wish." Mulder grinned, and Dana nodded in acquiescence. He went to get the board, calling back over his shoulder, "They don't have a medical category either." Dana smiled. * * * Mulder was slumped on his couch, watching the t.v. with mild interest. The coffee table in front of the couch supported the remains of the chinese take-out he had eaten the night before, and still hadn't bothered to clean up. He'd got back from North Dakota the previous night, where he'd been working on a particularly harrowing kidnapping case. When he'd got in he hadn't had the energy to cook for himself, so, - take-out. There was a knock at the door. It sounded urgent. Mulder got to his feet, and headed to the door. He opened it to see Dana standing outside. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her. Dana's right eye was bruised, and so swollen she could hardly open it at all. Her face was streaked with the tears that were still falling. "Dana?" Mulder's expression was one of horror. He caught hold of her hands, and drew her into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind her. Silently, he helped her take off her coat, fetched a box of tissues so she could wipe her eyes, and made her a mug of tea. Then he sat down next to her on the couch, and took her hands in his. "What happened?" he asked. "Harris and I... had an argument. We both got angry, and I said some nasty things, and..." "He hit you?" She nodded dumbly. "Why?" Mulder felt anger and pain rising up inside him at what she was telling him. Part of him wanted to go straight to Harris and Dana's house, and punch his ex-partner's husband until he cried for mercy. - But he knew that going off knowing half the story would only make things worse. "We've been talking for the last couple of years about starting a family," Dana began, her voice shaky, "but I still haven't got pregnant. Harris thinks I put my work too much ahead of our family, and don't want children. He wants to have a son of his own, and today when I suggested we consider adopting, he got angry." "He hit you over that?" Mulder was fast coming to the conclusion that beating some sense into Harris was a good idea, "I'm going to go over there and see him." "No!" Dana cried, aghast, "No, it's not Harris' fault." She started to cry again, and Mulder couldn't stop his hand from reaching up and brushing her hair out of her face. "He's right, I do put my work first sometimes. - When I come in, and I'm tired from work, and then I have to cook, and clean the house, by the time I go to bed I'm exhausted, and only want to sleep. - So Harris is right. Probably subconsciously I *don't* want children..." Dana started sobbing openly, and Mulder put his arm around her to comfort her. She accepted the embrace gladly, and lowered her head onto his shoulder, her tears falling freely. Wrapping her in his arms, Mulder comforted her gently as she wept. "It's okay, Dana, it'll be alright, I promise." But Mulder wasn't entirely sure it was going to be alright. Holding her close to him like this, he felt a longing growing inside him that made him feel like a hypocrite, - to be offering her comfort, and yet drawing comfort himself from her proximity. - He tried to quell his over-friendly thoughts, but he couldn't shut out the constant awareness of her being in his arms, of their bodies touching. He couldn't tune out the slightly hoarse sound of her ragged breathing, and the feel of her breasts grazing his chest each time she inhaled. His left hand stroked her hair softly as her sobs died down. He felt one of her hands run slowly up his back, and tousle his hair, as though they were still copying each other's movements like they had done so often as partners. "Oh, Mulder..." her words were tearful, and barely more than breath. They tore at his heart, and he tightened his embrace, crushing her against him, as much to dispel his own sorrow as hers. She lifted her head, and looked into his eyes. They seemed to sit like that for a long time, just gazing at each other. Then something happened. Afterwards, Mulder couldn't be sure whether he had initiated it, or whether Dana had. But he knew what had happened. Their lips met. The kiss intensified rapidly, an urgent, desperate, dangerous kiss born out of sadness, pain, years of unrequited longing, and two people's need to comfort and be comforted. They clutched each other like people drowning clutching at life-rings, their hands roaming, searching, and caressing. Each time their lips parted they gasped in deep gulps of air, and whispered each other's names. When Mulder managed to come to his senses, his hand was stroking Dana's breast through her baggy t-shirt, and she had her hands beneath his sweat-top, rubbing against his skin. "Dana..." he said uncertainly, "this isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this. I... - You're a married woman." Dana pulled away a little, uncertainty filling her face now too. "I... I'm sorry." "No, it's not you fault." Mulder said carefully, a large part of him desperately pleading that he ignore the voice of sanity, and take her in his arms again. "It... just happened. - But it shouldn't have. You don't want that, you were just upset, and I..." "You're just what you are. - You couldn't help it." Dana finished. She wiped the last of the tears from her face, and got unsteadily to her feet. "I'd better wash my face and then go home." she decided. "Sure." Mulder replied quietly, "You know where the bathroom is." Dana hurried out of the room, leaving Mulder to confront his tormented thoughts and feelings. Oh, holding her in his arms, kissing her, - he'd been to heaven. - And now he was back on Earth, and it didn't look too good with the knowledge that he could never return to heaven again. Mulder muttered "Bye" when Dana came out of the bathroom, and hastily headed for the door. When the door closed behind her, something that felt like a solid weight sank to the bottom of his heart, and made his chest ache. He absently supposed that this physical pain he was feeling was what was termed "lovesickness", and he wondered if he would ever find another woman who could stir such emotions in him as Dana could. He sank back on the couch, and let the tide of his emotions wash over him. End of part 2. I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-Philes. Email me at . Danielle Culverson. Subj: Friend 3/3 Date: 96-12-05 11:01:59 EST From: smythja@aston.ac.uk (smythja) Reply-to: smythja@aston.ac.uk To: GHill52695@aol.com This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. Rating - 15. Danielle Culverson. Part 3/3. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 9.05pm, 13th March 2003. Mulder opened the door, and for a moment didn't know what to say. It had been three weeks since Dana's last visit, and they had been three very painful weeks, during which he had thrown himself into his work with even more than his usual fervour as he tried to escape the guilt over what had happened, and the painful memories his mind kept throwing up. Dana too seemed uncertain what to say to him, and had difficulty meeting his gaze. Mulder stepped to the side to let Dana in, and not a word passed between them as she entered the apartment, and went to sit down in one of the two armchairs. Mulder closed the door slowly, and went to sit on the couch. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, but then Mulder broke the silence. "Has he...?" "No, he hasn't hit me again." Dana shook her head. She looked up at Mulder, who was still staring at the floor. As though he felt her gaze on him, he raised his head, and met her gaze. "I'm sorry about what happened." he said carefully. Dana swallowed. "It's okay. - My fault as much as yours." The tension relieved a little, Mulder glanced towards the kitchenette. "Do you want something to drink?" Dana shook her head, "No, thanks. - I just needed to spend some time away from Harris... And I wanted to sort out what happened." "How've things been at home?" She shrugged, "Tense, I guess. I'm constantly on edge, so we're always arguing about one thing or another. I keep doing things wrong, and making him angry. He... doesn't like me talking to other men. He's quite possessive, which in a way is nice, because I know he cares for me, but it gets smothering when he gets mad if I talk to a male colleague at work. I guess he is right about that, and I should be more careful not to lead them on. - I mean, look what happened last time I came here..." "Dana," Mulder broke in sharply, "listen to yourself. - Do you really mean to flirt with your colleagues at work? Did you mean for what happened last time you came here to happen?" "No..." she said uncertainly. "Then it's not you fault. - Harris is wrong to tell you it is. - You are the most sensible, thoughtful woman I know. He has no right to make you feel guilty about who you do or don't talk to." "But,... with what happened between us..." "What happened between us was my fault." Mulder said firmly, although he knew he hadn't meant it to happen either, "You surely guessed when we were working together that my feelings for you were more than just friendly. When you last came round I took advantage of the trust you placed in me, and I'm sorry for that." Dana looked at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, "It wasn't my fault?" "No, it wasn't." Dana gave a small sigh of relief, and allowed herself to relax slightly. "Has he been violent since then?" Mulder asked, desperately hoping she could answer no. His hopes deflated when she lowered her head. "What did he do?" "He... he said he wanted plaice for dinner one night, but I couldn't get it so I cooked sole instead. He got upset, and threw his dinner plate across the room." "But he hasn't hurt you?" She shook her head, and it was Mulder's turn to give a relieved sigh. "I don't suppose you can talk to him about his mood swings?" Dana looked horrified, "He'd kill me!" she exclaimed. Mulder took a deep breath. "Dana, have you considered leaving him?" "Why should I leave him?" "Because of how he's treating you. - He shouldn't be like this." "But it's my fault, not his." Dana protested, "I'm not working hard enough at keeping the marriage going. I'm devoting too much of my life to my work. I've considered giving *that* up." "At Harris' request, no doubt." Mulder said dryly. Dana looked startled, and then nodded. She glanced at her watch, and grimaced. "I'll have to go. - I said I was going to do the shopping, and I haven't been yet." She got to her feet. Mulder walked to the door with her, and put his hand on her shoulder as she opened it. She turned back towards him. "Remember," he said, "I'm here if you need me." Dana nodded, and then went out of the door, leaving a very worried FBI agent behind her. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 7.32pm, 21st March 2003. Mulder slept, - as usual at the wrong time, and in the wrong place, - on his couch. His dreams, for once, were pleasant to an extent. The dreams themselves were very beautiful experiences, but when looked at from a waking point of view, brought him only guilt and heartache. Dreams of holding Dana, kissing her, loving her. Dreams which warmed his heart and soul in sleep, but left him feeling cold, empty, and guilty in wakefulness. A knocking at his apartment door dragged him up from the depths of sleep, and almost as soon as consciouss thought returned, he felt certain that it was Dana. He got up, silently groaning at his stiff muscles, and went to open the door. Dana smiled at him as she came into the apartment, and let him take her coat. She went to sit on the couch, and Mulder took the armchair opposite the fish tank. "How are you?" he asked gently. Her mouth twisted. "Lonely." she said finally, "I rarely get to go out now." "Because of Harris?" She nodded vaguely, "He always wants to know where I am. It's too difficult to give him answers he'll accept, that won't make him angry. It's easier to stay in the house." "You came to see me." She nodded again. "I wanted to. - Harris thinks I'm at a girlfriend's." "You can always phone people if you feel isolated." Mulder suggested. Dana shook her head. "No, Harris doesn't like me using the phone too much. It wastes money, and only serves to pass on gossip. I have more important things to do." Mulder frowned, and tried not to show it. He didn't like this. It had the ring of something learned by rote. He changed the topic slightly. "Has he been violent towards you lately?" Dana looked down, and Mulder's heart sank. "What did he do?" She looked up at him, and met his gaze. "He said I didn't really want children with him. Two nights ago we were in bed and he wanted to..." she closed her eyes, and held her breath as she tried to get her emotions under control. "Go on." Mulder urged quietly. "I didn't want to... I was really tired from doing the washing and the ironing. I said to leave it, I just wanted to sleep. He caught hold of my wrists, and held them above my head on the pillow, and he... he... did it anyway." She dropped her eyes, which had filled with tears, and turned her face to the side. "He raped you?" Mulder felt sickened. A vice seemed to clamp around his heart and crush it. "No!" Dana cried, "Not raped. - He's my husband." "It's still rape if you tell him no, - and you know that, Dana." "But..." she began, and couldn't finish. Her eyes overflowed, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to deal with her emotional pain. Mulder swallowed and took a deep breath. "You've got to leave him, Dana." he said, "This can only get worse from here." She shook her head, refusing the suggestion. "No, it's just a psychological block I've got against having children. - He probably helped me to get over it." "Dana, I'm the one who studied in psychology, not you. - You don't have any problem with starting a family. Harris is your problem, not children. I think deep down somewhere you realise that." They fell into silence for a few minutes, and then Mulder tried to speak again, but Dana cut him off. "Please, can we talk about something else? I came here to see you and get away from Harris." "Okay." Mulder agreed reluctantly. He felt, rather than heard, her sigh of relief. "So what do you want to talk about?" "Why don't we play a game? - Another round of Trivial Pursuits?" Mulder agreed reluctantly, still very worried about his ex-partner. He supposed the protectiveness he was feeling was somehow tied up with the feelings he had for her. Even now, just looking at her made his body relax. He got up and went to fetch the board and question cards. Soon they had both forgotten the earlier ugly scene as much as they could, and were thoroughly engrossed in the game. "Okay, your turn." Mulder said, pushing the die over to Dana. She threw it, and moved her, as yet empty, piece around the board. "Green." Mulder looked at the question card in his hand, and groaned, "Why do you always get the easy ones? - What are narcotics?" "Drugs." Dana replied promptly, and threw again. "Four, - brown question." "Ooh, - art and literature, - A person who isn't what he appears to be could be described as a what? in sheep's clothing?" "Umm... Fox?" Dana suggested, with a sly grin. Mulder pulled a face. "Is that your answer?" "No, of course not. - It's a wolf." "Right, throw again." Mulder pushed the die back over to her. She threw and moved to the orange wedge space. "Ooh, - wedge question on sport and leisure. - What water sport would you be participating in if you get "dumped"?" "Err... water polo?" Dana hazarded. "Nope, - surfing. My go." "Well how was I supposed to know that?" "Didn't you ever surf when you were young, Dana?" Mulder threw the die, "Six! - Green wedge." "I can't believe your luck. - What is the term that describes the deep winter sleep that animals such as tortoises go through?" "Umm... working at the FBI? - Hibernation." "Correct, - on both counts. Green wedge for Mulder." Dana tossed him the pie-shaped piece of plastic. "Next question?" "Pink." Mulder decided, moving his piece. "Who was the main character in the films "Moonraker" and "Thunderball"?" "James Bond." "That's what you get from having insomnia, I suppose, - a great knowledge of useless films." Dana declared. "Hey! - I liked those films!" Mulder protested. He threw the die again, got a two, and moved to a yellow space. "Oh, you'll know this one. - When did the first man walk on the moon?" "Human, or humanoid alien?" Mulder asked. At Dana's impatient roll of her eyes, he answered quickly, "1969. - Green." "How old is the oldest known tree in North America? - 160 years, 2,600 years, or 4,600 years?" Dana read. "4,600 years, - and it's probably full of those little green bugs. - New throw, - green again." Mulder moved back to his original space. "You won't get this one. - What type of vegetable are - little marvel, onward and kelvedon wonder?" "Peas." Mulder declared, and smiled at Dana's surprised look, "I *do* cook, - I've proved that to you before. - Pink." "What is inside a "Flying Saucer" sweet?" Dana smiled. "Aliens?" Mulder suggested. "No, - sherbet." "Hey, I knew that!" "Sorry, I have to accept your first answer. - Besides, you're winning." Dana held her hand out for the die. Then she glanced at her watch. "I'm going to have to go. - Can we finish this next time I come around?" "Sure." Mulder agreed, and moved the board onto a small table where it could remain undisturbed until they next wanted to play. Dana got to her feet, and picked up her coat. She turned to smile at Mulder before going out of the door. God, her smile! Mulder groaned inwardly. Every little thing about her was so perfect and beautiful. How unfair that she had ended up married to a loser she wouldn't leave. He got himself on his feet, and wandered into the kitchenette to get himself something to eat. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 7.59pm, 25th March 2003. Mulder opened the door, and smiled at Dana. "Hi, come in." he said. "Hello, Mulder." she returned. "Come to finish our game of Trivial Pursuits?" he suggested. She shook her head. "No, actually, I wanted to talk to you." "Why? Has Harris...?" "No, it's not about Harris. - It's about us." "Us?" Mulder raised his eyebrows. Dana sat down in the armchair by the fish-tank, and Mulder settled himself on the couch, a look of query on his face. Dana spoke again. "You mentioned the time before last when I came around that you had feelings which were "more than just friendly" for me. - I need to know exactly what you do feel." "What? - Dana..." "Please, Mulder. - I need to know." He stared at her for a moment, and tried to organize his thoughts, "I'm not sure where to start." he admitted, "You... you mean so much to me. I've always found you attractive and intelligent, and I've always had a great respect for you, - your determination and confidence. I don't know exactly what is different now, but my heart jumps when I look at you. My breathing catches. My body reacts. When you leave, or you're hurting, I feel a physical pain, here." he pressed his hand to his chest, "I know now why it's called heart-ache. When I'm near you I want to touch you, hold you, kiss you. When we're apart you fill my thoughts, awake or asleep. - I just can't describe it all. It's beyond the ability of words to describe." Pausing, and thinking about what he was saying, and who he was saying it to, Mulder suddenly felt a wave of guilt pass over him, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this." "I did ask." she reminded him. He nodded. "Why did you ask?" "Because I needed to know how you felt before I said anything, and I needed something to compare my own feelings against." "Your feelings for Harris." Mulder nodded, understanding, but Dana shook her head. "No, my feelings for you." "What?" Mulder met her gaze, a look of utter confusion on his face. "Mulder, I... I'm not sure of what I'm really feeling at the moment, but I know I don't feel anything for Harris like I do for you." She got up, and came to sit alongside him on the couch, being careful not to actually touch him. "I think spending this personal time with you, and everything... I've fallen in love with you." Mulder stared at her, his mouth slightly open in surprise and confusion. "Dana." he whispered, and took her hands in his. She looked down, and he saw the start of tears in her eyes. He put one finger under her chin, urging her to raise her face and look at him. The tears escaped her eyes, and she whispered, "I'm sorry, Mulder, I can't... I've got to stay with Harris. - There must be some way to make our marriage work." "Declaring it over is a good one." Mulder replied, a little more sharply than he had intended. She looked away. "I daren't. - He'd kill me." she whispered, "Besides, it's not his fault really. - I haven't done enough to make it work." "You've done everything and more than anyone could expect you to." Mulder countered. She shook her head, and got to her feet. "No, I haven't. - And now I'd better not come back here again, because I've only led you on, and..." She bit back tears, and turned towards the door. She walked swiftly to it, and opened it. Mulder rushed after her, but was still six feet from the door when it closed between them. "Dana!" he cried, his eyes feeling damp all of a sudden. He leaned against the wall by the door, and sank to the floor, his body shaking with dry sobs. * * * Mulder's apartment, Alexandria, VA. 7.12pm, 17th April 2003. The knocking at the door sounded frenzied. Mulder hurried to open it. He saw Dana standing there, and couldn't suppress his exclamation. "Oh my God! Come in." He ushered her into the apartment, and over to the couch, where he sat her down. "Harris?" She nodded dumbly. Mulder sat back to take in her appearance properly. Dana's hair was ragged and tangled, her right eye was blacked again, and her lower lip was split and bleeding. There were scratches and bruises all over her face, neck, arms, and legs. Mulder suspected the skin he couldn't see was similarly battered. There was blood running down her chin from her lip, and blood on the front of her t-shirt. Her eyes were filled with fear, and tears. "Why?" Mulder asked simply. "It was just an argument." she told him, "I don't remember what started it, but it just got worse and worse, and he started hitting me..." She started crying again, and Mulder put his arm around her. There was a bang from the apartment door as it gave way under a swift kick. Dana gave a strangled sound like a hiccough, and turned to see Harris charge into the apartment. "I knew it! I knew you were playing around behind my back, you useless bitch. You worthless slut. - Get back home, *now*." "Get out of this apartment." Mulder said in a low voice which belied his rising anger. Inside he was glad he had left his revolver in the bedroom, or he might well have killed Harris already. "Shut up." Harris returned, "That's my wife you're messing with." "That doesn't give you the right to barge in here. Get out." Mulder rose to his feet, and circled the couch until he was facing Harris. "Now." "Dana, if you don't get yourself back home right this minute, you know what will happen. I swore I'd do it if you disobeyed me..." Mulder glanced at Dana, who was sitting like a statue on the couch, half turned to face them. He could see she was petrified, but she started to get to her feet anyway. "Dana..." "It's alright, Mulder." she said quickly, and went out of the still open door. Harris glared at Mulder before turning and stalking after her. He pulled the door closed behind him. Mulder stood staring after them in disbelief. There was a thud from outside the apartment, and a short cry. Mulder's eyes widened, and he charged to the door, and out into the corridor. He saw Dana on the floor by the wall, hunched up to try and protect herself, her arms held up above her head. Harris was standing over her, raining blows on her with his clenched fists, and swearing at her under his breath. Mulder charged at Harris, and knocked him away from Dana. The two men fell to the floor, struggling. Mulder caught hold of Harris' right leg, but the man kicked him in the chest with his free leg. Mulder groaned, and pulled back a little. Then he flung himself onto Harris, and delivered a series of short, hard blows to the man's arms and torso. Harris caught Mulder's arms, and they wrestled with each other for a few minutes, rolling across the floor of the corridor, and colliding with the walls. Mulder was dimly aware of Dana pleading with Harris not to hurt him. Moving apart, they got to their feet, and Mulder shoved Harris against the wall. Again they wrestled, Harris managing to swing Mulder around so his back was to the wall, and smashing his head backwards against it. Mulder groaned, seeing stars. He pushed Harris away, but before he could reorient himself, Harris was at him again, one hand at his throat this time as he pushed Mulder up against the wall. Mulder smashed a fist into Harris' lower jaw, and heard the satisfying crunch of a bone breaking. Harris reeled backward, and Mulder slammed him face-first into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. He held Harris' arms behind him, and pulled his handcuffs, - which luckily he hadn't left in his bedroom, - from his pocket and put them on the man's wrists. Then he turned to Dana, who was still crouched on the floor, sobbing. She gratefully embraced him when he touched her shoulder. "Mulder..." "It's okay, Dana," he reassured her, "I'm here, it'll be alright." Her eyes met his and a faint smile touched at her lips though her tears. "It'll be alright." Mulder repeated. Then he kissed her. The End. I hope the topic of this story doesn't offend anybody. I have never been in an abusive relationship myself, nor do I personally know anybody who has, but I tried my best to make it realistic. I'd greatly appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-Philes. Email me at . Danielle Culverson.