From: Emania1224@aol.com Date: Sun, 19 Mar 2000 23:44:07 EST Subject: Submission Story: If I Never Knew You Source: direct Title: If I Never Knew You Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Beyond the Sea"; "The Blessing Way/Paper Clip" Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: I meant to ask, I really did...but I think it slipped my mind. ::shrug:: oh, well. It's not like anybody's paying me for this...CAUSE THEY'RE NOT! I'm just strange that way. Author's Notes: Okay, so I know I should be writing in Puzzle of the Ages, but I've just been inspired and I have to write what I get inspired with, don't I? ::sigh:: ahh...the muses. This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Feedback: If I didn't want it, would I be posting this at all?? Come on...be realistic here, people!! +++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Prologue +++++++++++++ "What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story, And the greatest good is little enough: for all life is a dream, and dreams themselves are only dreams." -Pedro Calderon de la Barca, Life is a Dream "Dana?" It's a mall. I'm in a mall...that much is certain, but what am I doing in a mall? The last thing I remembered, Mulder and I were in a warehouse where we were supposed to meet some quack or other who was supposed to have some sort of time travel machine. We split up, Mulder investigating the east end of the warehouse and I was investigating the west and I heard a noise like falling something and then... So what am I doing in a mall? At Christmas time. It's definitely Christmas time. The music and the bustle and the decorations are all proof enough of that. Maybe there was some gas in the air that knocked me out enough for someone to bring me here. "Dana? Sweetie?" Or that same gas had the side effect of leaving me with no memory of the events that happened after I inhaled it and I somehow wandered out of the warehouse and came to be here without memory of how I got here... Or... "Come on or we're going to be late!" Dammit! I can't think if she keeps interrupting my thoughts like that. God, can't she just be quiet for a few seconds? Can't she see that I'm trying to think? No, Missy always has to have her way. I don't even know why she's in such a hurry or for what... *Missy*? I turn on my heel ever so slowly to my right. My God. It wasn't just her voice...it was her. "Melissa?" I ask, tears coming to my eyes. She smiles questioningly. "What is it, Daney?" she puts a hand on my arm and I look down at it as if it were a tentacle or worse still, as if I'd never seen an arm at all. I can't breathe. She's alive. She's here. She's real. My dreams were never this real. I could never smell her perfume in my dreams, or feel the warmth of her hand on my arm. I close my eyes and I feel the tears fall down my cheeks. When I open them again, seconds later, I'm so afraid that she won't be there. That closing my eyes had broken the spell and that she's gone. But she's not. I grab onto her with dear life and clutch her to me. "Easy, Dana..." she says laughingly. "You're acting as if you haven't seen me in ages, instead of the 5 minutes it took me to go to the bathroom." I clutch at her tighter. "Oh, Missy...Oh My God...Missy...it was...my fault...Oh, God..." I know I should be registering how this happened, why it happened, and there's still the fact that I don't even know where I am or how I got here or where Mulder is, for that matter, but none of that really matters as I hold my sister in my arms. She pulls away from me. "okay, now, Dana...now you're scaring me..." she looks in my eyes. "Did something happen while I was gone?" My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water but not a word comes out. I'm still not thinking straight. Part of my mind registers that I'm in shock, but the other part of my mind doesn't care. The other part of my mind still can't respond, can't make me move, speak, or even blink. Missy sees my state of shock and pulls me back towards her, putting an arm around me lovingly like she used to do when Bill would bother me or when that time I killed my rabbit trying to keep him safe from Bill. I guess I'm shaking because she rubs my arms in an attempt to warm me up. "You're shaking, Dana..." "Sh...shock..." I manage to mumble. At least I think I mumbled. Maybe I didn't say it aloud. I don't know. "Alright, that's it. We're going home, Dana, and then you're going to tell me what's going on." She starts me walking and then one clear thought enters my head and I resist her. "N-no...wait..." I pull back. She looks at me. "Mulder... where's Mulder?" I didn't know where I was, but I was sure that Mulder either had to be around here or had to be looking for me wherever he was that I wasn't. I couldn't leave here without knowing how I got here and where Mulder was and... "Who?" All thought stops for the second time in a span of about 20 minutes. "My partner...Mulder...Fox Mulder..." "Your partner?" Melissa looks at me the way I know I've looked at Mulder when he offers one of his crazy theories. "Dana, you haven't had a partner since you opened your practice. You're a solo-practitioner." "Wh---what?" I manage to stammer out. Melissa's eyes go dark and worried and her arms bundle me tighter into her again. "Come on...let's get you home...mom and dad are waiting..." "Dad?" And then everything goes black and I know nothing. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Title: If I Never Knew You Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Beyond the Sea"; "The Blessing Way/Paper Clip"; "Christmas Carol/Emily" <> Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: Who can actually *own* something like this? I mean, to so many people Mulder and Scully and the whole crew are real people, aren't they? Then who can actually *own* people? CC and Co are a bit egotistical to think that they can, don't you think? I just do what the little voices in my head tell me to do, alright? Author's Notes: This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Feedback: If I didn't want it, would I be posting this at all?? Come on...be realistic here, people!! ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 1 ++++++++++++++ "For all we know this may only be a dream." -Bette Midler, For All We Know I hear voices as I come to, but I'm too afraid to open my eyes. I've never been one of those people that wakes up unsure of where they are or oblivious to what had happened before. I guess in part it's my FBI training and a big part of it is all the moving around I did as a child. I got used to waking up in strange beds and different rooms all the time. And I learned quickly to push the darkness and haziness of sleep aside and focus on where I was. All the traveling I did now helped get me used to that as well. "She just fainted, Bill." Missy's voice again and I'm comforted that it wasn't all a dream. I know that she doesn't appear to know Mulder and that I don't appear to be in the FBI, but at least she still is real. And apparently so is my brother Bill. "Dana doesn't faint," Bill insists. There's another thing that's still the same. I guess I don't faint in this world either. Wait a minute. This world? When did I decide I was in another world? Or...what would Mulder call it? A parallel world... parallel reality...? When did I decide I was in a parallel world? And *when* did I even *consider* I could be in a parallel world? "Maybe she's pregnant." Whoa, there! Pregnant?! I can't be pregnant. Everyone knows that... ...in *my* reality... If I can still have children in this reality it may not be so bad. But my mother's voice sounds so happy, so carefree. The way I remember it from before...way before. I'm perfectly content to just lay here, my eyes closed, listening to their voices. "I sure hope not...not now that she finally left that idiot of a husband of hers." Husband?! My God, what type of reality is... I open my eyes immediately as the realization of who had actually spoken hits me, but the brightness of the room invades my head painfully and I squint, looking through slitted eyes at the unmistakable silhouette of my father standing tall and proud. "Shhh...she's awake," my mother says, suddenly appearing in my line of vision as she bends over me. "Morning, Dana." "Mom?" I ask. She nods, smiling brightly. "It's alright, dear. We're all here," she consoles, looking around her. "Where am I?" I ask, clearing my throat. "At the house, of course, Dana...same place you were this morning and last night..." "No," I insist. "I wasn't here..." "What's going on, Starbuck...what's happened?" My eyes water as I see him face to face now. I sit up and push aside the covers. "Oh, Daddy," I grab onto him impulsively. He returns my embrace but I can feel the hesitance...the question in him. "I had a horrible dream," I whisper to him the way I used to when I would run to him in the middle of the night where he would often still be reading some book or another by the light of a warm lamp or fireplace. "It's alright, now...the light's chased them all away..." he whispers back and I can't help but grab on tighter. So many times in the recent years I had wanted my father so much. So many times while I was dying with the cancer I would wake up with blood on my pillow after having had terrible nightmares of drowning in pools of blood and of watching myself decompose...dreams I woke up from sweating and crying silent, cold, tears...dreams where I could never go back to sleep from but would just curl myself into a ball and cry. My father would have known how to comfort me...how to hold me and soothe me and put me back to sleep...he always had before...when I was a child...always had... And now his arms were around me again...and I didn't know if this was a dream or if everything else had been a dream. Both seemed *so* real. "Dana," Missy spoke, after I had loosened up my grip on my father a little. "Dana, you asked after someone...called him your partner back at the mall...do you remember?" I fully let go of my father and wiped at my tears. I looked around the room and sighed. If they didn't know Mulder...if they weren't dead...then this *must* be one of those parallel realities Mulder's always raving about. That. Or I've just cracked. In either case, what do I tell them? I've always thought that Mulder wouldn't seem so damn...'spooky' if he only kept some of his thoughts to himself and weren't so completely forthright with his theories. So, do I speak my mind here? Do I tell them what I believe is happening? Or do I pretend not to remember what I spoke about at the mall. It could be temporary memory loss. But would that make me seem less crazy? "In my dream...I dreamt of...another life." Okay, so half-truths isn't that bad, is it? "And this Mulder was part of that life?" Missy asks, sitting next to me on the bed. I know that tone of voice of hers. She's considering psychic situations, past life dreams...metaphysical occurrences. It's too bad she doesn't know Mulder in this reality. They always got along rather well in mine. Well, well enough for the short time they knew each other. "He was my partner..." I look up at her. "I was an FBI Agent and he was my partner." "Not this again, Dana," Bill sighs from next to my father. I look up and notice that my father's facing the window, his back to me. So, I've had this discussion in this life as well, I suppose. Only as far as I can make out, I never went into the FBI. I stayed in medicine. So, that was the turning point. The crystallizing event in my life after which it took two totally different turns. The tone in his voice annoys me. It always has. Whenever he takes on that 'you're just a girl and therefore you're thinking is genetically impaired compared to mine' attitude I feel like reaching for my gun, pressing it tight against his skull and slowly squeezing the trigger. It would be messy, but oh so satisfying. "You're perfectly welcome to leave the room if you don't want to hear me speak about what I want to speak about Bill," I answer back brusquely. Bill and I stare each other down for a few seconds in complete silence when my father's voice breaks the tension. "William, would you help me bring in the tree from the truck?" Bill breaks free of the gaze and turns to my father, nodding. "I'll start on breakfast," my mother says smiling at me as she walks to the door after my father and brother. "You think you'll be okay enough to come down, dear?" I nod. "I'll be there." I wait until she softly closes the door behind her before turning back to my sister. I still couldn't completely accept that she was here before me. There was a fluttering of my heart everytime I saw her. Like when you don't really expect to catch a bird that perches on your windowpane and suddenly, you have it in your hands, but don't know quite how to hold it, how to make sure it doesn't fly away and you don't loose it forever. She smiles. "So, tell me more about this Mulder." I raise an eyebrow at her. "You're acting like he's some crush I have when he's just someone..." I trail off and consider my next words "someone from another life." Missy smiles knowledgeably and stands. "Maybe..." she consents, patting my hand as she walks around my bed towards the door. "but just because he's someone from another life, doesn't mean you couldn't find him in this one, does it?" I watch her go, her words circling my brain, trying desperately to reach within and pull out an idea. And then the little light bulb flashes on brightly. Why couldn't I find Mulder in this life? If I'm here, he's got to be here, even if it is the him of another reality...and God knows if there's anyone that can help me find out what's happened to me, it'll be Fox Mulder. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Title: If I Never Knew You Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: none Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: They're not mine. I wish they were, but they're not. ::shrug:: what can a fic writer do? Author's Notes: This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Feedback: If I didn't want it, would I be posting this at all?? Come on...be realistic here, people!! +++++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 2 +++++++++++++++++ "I looked into your eyes and saw/ a world that does not exist./ I looked into your eyes and saw/ a world that I want to be in." -VAST, Touch "Federal Bureau of Investigation." Well, at least the main number is the same, even if the office number is disconnected. "I'd like to be transferred to Fox Mulder please." There is silence on the line as the operator clicks away at her keyboard, looking for his name. "I'm sorry but we don't have anyone here by that name," she says monotonously. "Are you sure?" I ask incredulously. "Yes ma'am. He's not in my listing for the DC Field Office." "Well, maybe I have the wrong Field Office. Can you check your general list?" I ask, trying my best to sound sweet, and charming and friendly. "Hold please," she says on a sigh before I hear more clicking. "Ah, yes...here he is...he's working out of Boston. Would you like me to transfer you?" "Yes please," I say without hesitation. But oh, does the hesitation come. As I wait while the connection is made...and wait while the phone rings...and wait...I wonder what I'm going to tell him once I do hear his voice again. What a freaking twist of fate. Now I'm going to be the crackpot calling him with some wild story. Now I'm going to be the one assuring him that he could believe me even if he didn't know me...which he probably wouldn't. It's amazing how much that realization hurts me. Fox Mulder, the one person who probably knew me better than anyone else in the whole world, probably didn't know me in this reality. I couldn't imagine my life if I'd never met him. But that's exactly where I am now, aren't I? If it wasn't because I somehow remember everything from *my* reality, it would be exactly as if I didn't know him. It's obvious enough that my life is different. But...how different would he be? "VCS," comes the female voice, snapping me out of my reverie. VCS? He was in the Profiling unit? Well, makes sense. That's what he did before he found the X-Files in my reality. Maybe he hadn't found the X-Files. Maybe he had found them and let them go. Maybe he had... "Hello?" Oops. Forgot I had to speak into the phone. Smart move, Dana. "Yes, hello," I speak, turning up the friendly in my voice. "I was trying to be transferred to Fox Mulder." "He's not in right now," the woman responds pleasantly. "Can I help you?" I frown, but try to keep it from my voice. "No...no, I don't think so, but thank you...I'll call him back later." "Actually, he's on vacation. Gone home for the Holidays. I'm his partner though, Agent Nina Mallory, maybe I can be of help." She has a very agreeable voice. I bet she's pretty. Of course she's pretty. And she's nice, too. I bet she's the perfect blend of girly and efficient. I bet she's...everything I've never been. Wait a minute! Why do I care, anyway? Because I'm jealous, that's why. Not only does he not know me in this reality, but he's got another partner, pretty, nice, girly, *and* efficient. 'Oh, get a grip, Dana!' I chide myself. You haven't even seen her for chrissakes! "Actually, I need to speak to Agent Mulder directly, but thank you anyway." I pause, considering my options. I'm sure she'll know where he is. Hell, I'd know in my reality. But why would she tell a stranger. "Well, if you give me a message, I'll be sure to get it to him, Ms...?" "Scully," I offer. "Dana Scully...but you know...this is really rather pressing so..." I could try my hand. Things can't be that different here. My mother still lives in the same house. Why not Mrs. Mulder? "Do you know if he's at his folks' place on the Vineyard or at the house in Rhode Island?" "I'm sorry, but are you an old friend?" Agent Mallory asks confusedly. I can't help but smile. So maybe you don't know as much about him as you thought you did, huh Miss Thing? It's petty and foolish and childish...I know...but I can't help it. "Actually, my father's an old friend of his father's and when my folks found out I was going to be in town, they asked I look the Mulder family up. My dad couldn't tell me which house they'd be at so I thought the best bet would be that he were at work." I lie. No use pressing my luck. She couldn't possibly know that much about his family for that excuse to be suspicious. "Besides, I think it's kinda rude to just show up somewhere and I don't have they're number at Rhode Island...just at the Vineyard." "Oh..." she laughs. "Well, I think they were going to be at the house on Martha's Vineyard." "That's great! Then I'll call them right up...thank you very much Agent Mallory...you've been a great help." "You're welcome Ms. Scully, and Merry Christmas." "Merry Christmas to you," I responded before hanging up the phone. I look at the phone and sigh. I do know the number at the house at the Vineyard only because he gave it to me one time. I'm very good at memorizing numbers. You have to be in medical school, but I'm just not sure I should call him. Calling him while he's on vacation (Mulder on vacation?) with his family (Mulder on vacation with his family?) is a totally different matter than calling him at work. Maybe I shouldn't call him. No. I don't think I will call him. But maybe it wouldn't hurt if I happened to be in the neighborhood... +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Title: If I Never Knew You Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: none Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: Y'all remember "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory"? Remember Veruca Salt and when she's talking about the Umpa Loompas? Well, that's the way I feel. Not that I consider M&S as Umpa Loompas or anything, but...well, I just feel like screaming "I want em! I want em NOW!" Of course, just like Veruca, I won't be getting em no matter how hard and loud I scream, so...::shrug:: I guess that was pointless, wasn't it? Author's Notes: This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: To all the wonderful, wonderful people who sent me all that gorgeous, incredible, tasty feedback. It kept me smiling all day and probably for weeks to come so thank you! Also, thanks to those of you who caught and brought the Chilmark thing to my attention. Feedback: Don't you want to be the recipient of the gushing gratitude I described above? If so...write to... Emania1224@aol.com . It will be adored, imbibed and worshipped there. I can assure you. ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 3 ++++++++++++++ "What we see and what we seem are but a dream within a dream." -Edgar Allen Poe, Dream Within A Dream "Who the hell does he think he is?" I've hardly ever heard Ahab so angry. Even whenever we did something wrong, or when I told him, in no uncertain terms, that his opinion didn't matter and that I was going into the FBI anyway. I don't think he ever even spoke to the men under his command that way. I'm very curious to find out who could put such venom in his voice. So, I stop just inside the door to the study. "Bill..." my mother starts, soothingly. "No, Maggie...don't try to calm me down. I don't want to calm down." "Your attitude isn't going to make it any easier for her." *Who* could they be talking about? "I have to agree with Dad here, Mom," Missy offers. Oh. That must mean they're talking about me, doesn't it? I'm the only other 'her' around, aren't I? Could Mulder have called me? Maybe I *do* know him in this life? But no. They didn't recognize his name. So if I do know him they don't know about it. "That's a surprise," Bill Jr. remarks sarcastically. It's really starting to get on my nerves that they all think they could just decide what's good for me and what they should tell me and what they should keep from me. It's always gotten on my nerves. "Look, I think it's pretty obvious that no one here likes him...so can we please stop arguing about it?" I can't see her, but I can just imagine my mother looking from my siblings to my father and back again. "Like who, mom?" I ask, finally coming into the room. My face must show all the annoyance that I feel because my mother stares at me for a second, like a deer caught by the headlights, before smiling brightly. I just raise an eyebrow and she turns to my father. I follow her line of vision and he looks just as mad as he sounded. "That bastard of an x-husband of yours," he spits out. Ex-husband? "Joseph called while you were showering," my mother offers. My God, I've been married. The shock hits me like a kick to the stomach and I actually feel like I might go back into shock. It shouldn't really shock me so much, the reasonable part of my brain reminds me that they'd made reference to *him* before. I just wasn't paying much attention, but now it all comes back in startling clarity. I've been married. And divorced. I haphazardly find the nearest chair and drop into it. My mother comes to my side immediately and I'm trying not to make it obvious that I'm struggling for my next breath. "Daney?" Missy asks, crouching down in front of me. "Just the fact that he's called does this to her!" my father says through clenched teeth. They, of course, misunderstood my reaction. "What did he say?" I ask, barely above a whisper, looking at the floor under me but not really seeing it. "It doesn't matter," Bill says. I look up at him sharply. "*What* *did* *he* *say*?" "Dana, honey, listen to me," Missy says, detracting my withering glare from Bill to her where it cools. "He doesn't even know you're here. Dad kept hanging up on him until Mom picked up the phone and told him you were out of the country on business." My mind was going a mile a minute. Who had I married? Why had we divorced? He has to be some kind of asshole for my family to feel such complete and utter animosity towards him. But why would I have married him at all if he was such an asshole? Did I love him? I needed to know suddenly. Joseph. Joseph what? He was someone completely new in this life. I'd never met him in my reality. Now, more than ever I wanted Mulder. I need to speak to him, to hear his voice, to have him comfort me and... He's the only one I could tell this story to without feeling completely stupid or mad. I *could* very well be mad, though, couldn't I? I'm at the door suddenly and I don't remember getting there. I probably wouldn't have realized I was there either if it weren't for Missy's hand on my arm. "Where are you going?" she asks. "I don't know," I lie, grabbing onto my purse, coat and keys out of the closet and walking out the front door. She doesn't stop me. No one stops me. I've been married. The thought resonates within me like the sound of a heavy bell under murky waters. I feel the vibrations, but I can't completely put my finger on it's complexities or consequences. Nothing, not the fact that I'm not in the FBI, not the fact that Missy never died or that my father's still alive...none of this has shocked my core the way this has. The fact that I maybe loved someone enough to walk down the aisle with them. To join myself to them meaning for it to be forever...but it hadn't been. Something went terribly wrong. But what? Some part of me, maybe irrationally, maybe instinctively, knew that Mulder could tell me...was counting on Mulder being able to tell me. Mulder could make sense of this. He could be married. The thought nearly stopped me from taking the turn onto the highway that would take me into Boston. Almost. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The house was just the way I remembered it. Not that I'd had many opportunities to view it, mind you. But I'd had a few. The lights are on as it's dark now. An upstairs bedroom, the living room...maybe that one in the corner was the kitchen. I'd never seen the kitchen. Didn't even know where it was. I park the car across the street and one house over. I can still see the front door and the living room window from here, but they couldn't notice me sitting in the car. I don't know what's stopping me from going up to his door. I just can't bring myself to walk up to that pretty, normal door and knock and come face to face with...with... What? Maybe a normal Mulder to go along with it? As I sit there, in the deepening dusk, I ponder my situation. I'm way past the point of thinking that this may be some sort of dream. It's lasted too long and it's all too real. I still haven't completely ruled out the possibility of a neurotic episode. That's still completely possible, but even so, there's nothing I can do about it. Except, maybe the fact that I'm still trying to get help and trying to find a way back and maybe if Mulder can help me, then symbolically, I will find my way back, bringing me back for real. What could have possibly triggered this reality? What, in my past could have changed, what little apparently insignificant decision or choice did I make to get myself married and out of the FBI instead of where I was... And when I look at it that way... Why do I want to go back? And then I see him. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I follow him to the nearest grocer's. Apparently, the Mulder clan has forgotten something for their dinner. This would be the perfect situation to talk to him, except...except I'm still sitting outside in my car instead of going into the store after him. Why am I so nervous? What am I worried about? It's Mulder, fer chrissakes! How different can he be? Just because he hasn't had exactly the same experiences in his life doesn't mean he isn't the same man inside. Right? The grocer's is small and homey. Just what you'd expect in a small town. It doesn't take long for me to spot him. He's so tall that his head comes right up over most of the shelves. The bells over the door tingle as I let it close behind me and the elderly man at the counter looks up at me and smiles. I smile back as best as I can under the circumstances and make my way to where Mulder was looking over the selection of red wines. I know what he's looking for. He hardly ever drinks red wine, so when he does, he prefers a softer, fruity vintage. He likes Cianti. I should know. I introduced him to it. I come up behind him and spot it before he does. But I'm not really noticing it at all. I'm too busy looking him over. He looks...different. Good, but different. "Bottom shelf, to your left," I speak coming up closer to him. He turns around suddenly, astonished at my presence and I point to the bottle, "Bottom shelf...the Cianti..." I reach over and pick it up. I look at it and I can feel his eyes on me. I wonder what I look like to him. Dressed in an ivory turtleneck, knitted sweater, matching slacks and a suede coat. My hair is loose and slightly falling over my eyes. Those eyes looking at me now have never seen me before and I wonder what he's thinking. Am I attractive to him? I look up at him and hand it over. He looks at it and then at me and, to my utter amazement, smiles. "How did you know this is what I was looking for?" he asks. God, his voice. I had, I realize now, begun to believe I had imagined it. But I couldn't have. "Would you believe ESP?" I ask. His smile turns into a grin. "You might be surprised what I'd believe...especially coming from a beautiful woman such as yourself." I can't help it. I smile and lower my head. So this is what it's like to be on the receiving end of Mulder's honest-to-goodness flirtation. "But was it just your tone but it doesn't sound like you believe it yourself," he continues. I shake my head softly. "I might have been inclined to agree with you a few days ago, but now...I don't think I will ever look at anything with the type of certainty I once possessed." "You certainly know how to intrigue a guy," he says softly. I look away and shrug, pretending to look at a bottle of white wine. Taking it as a cue that I didn't want to continue the conversation, Mulder tucked the bottle under his arm and picked up the loaf of French bread he had placed at the top while he searched for the wine. "Well, I guess I can't make you tell me your secret," he says, "so, thank you for finding it for me, I guess." He starts to walk away but I knew I couldn't just let him walk out. I had come all this way to talk to him and now I didn't know what to say. "Mulder!" I exclaim suddenly before I can stop myself. He turns around to face me and then, looking around him, walks back to me slowly. Even his gait is the same. "I'm sorry, ms, but should I know you?" I close my eyes and shake my head softly. "No... probably not...but I sure know you...." I open my eyes and look into his. I know that look, too. He's confused. His eidetic mind is busy trying to recall my face. I shake my head again. "Don't look at me like that. You're not going to recognize my face so don't try to go through your eidetic memory to find my face cause it's not there." He looks around himself again and comes up close to me, his eyes narrowing from shock into a mixture of question and suspicion. "Who are you?" he asks softly, so that no one else can here. "I'm Dana Scully and if you're anything like you are in my reality, you're the only one that can help me." "Your reality?" ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Dreamland I/II" "Home", "War of the Carpophages" "Fire" "Space". Damn, this piece really has alot of 'em don't it? Oh, well, they're not *big* ones per say. Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: "Tell him it's not true." "It's not true." "Is that true?" "No, it's not true." "Aha! So it is true!" "A double negative." "A double negative? You mean you have...photographs?"-from Clue. Author's Notes: This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: To all the wonderful, wonderful people who sent me all that gorgeous, incredible, tasty feedback. It kept me smiling all day and probably for weeks to come so thank you! Also, thanks to those of you who caught and brought the Chilmark thing to my attention. Feedback: Don't you want to be the recipient of the gushing gratitude I described above? If so...write to... Emania1224@aol.com . It will be adored, imbibed and worshipped there. I can assure you. ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 4 ++++++++++++++ "Into the sea of waking dreams I follow without pride" -Sarah McLachlan, Possession "Do you want to run that by me again?" Mulder asks, leading me towards the back of the grocery store, away from prying ears. I let him lead me, images of dozens of people claiming to be all sorts of things running through my mind like a mini- home movie set on high speed. Maybe I was wrong to be here, to come to him. He seems like he's got a normal life here. Isn't that what I always wanted? Hell, I've got a semi-normal life now. But...but something is not right with these lives. If they were, then why would I remember the old one? And why would I wish I could have both? "I said I come from an alternate reality where you and I are partners in the FBI," I repeat wearily. He looks at me, inspecting my face for any trace of teasing or lying. "Okay," he says. "Who set you up to this? I bet you it was Spender. That prick." Well, at least that was still the same in both realities. "No one asked me to do this, Mulder...I'm totally serious. As much as it goes totally against everything I've ever believed in, and despite the fact that 3 days ago if you would have come up to me with the same story I would have had your head examined...and that's counting with that in my reality I know you. If someone I never met in my life comes up to me..." I stop, remembering a time when someone I hadn't met came up to me and told me he was Mulder. I hadn't believed him then. Not at first. But that was *so* different than this. "Look, I could tell you all I know about you from my reality. And maybe some things will coincide, I don't know everything that will have changed..." But at least one major thing has changed, hasn't it? One pretty big thing in his life. I look at him, meeting his eyes. "What's happened to the X-Files, Mulder?" I ask him. His eyes go wide. He recognizes it. "You've found them, haven't you?" I don't need for him to agree with me, the look on his face is enough. "What made you leave them? What made you not continue with them?" He doesn't answer me but leads me outside through the back door. He takes me to the side of the grocer's store, out of sight from anyone and looks at me suspiciously. "Who the hell are you, lady? And what do you know about me and the X-Files?" Oh-oh. Looks like I hit a nerve, does it? "I don't know anything about *you* and the X-Files...I know about the Mulder of *my* reality and the X-Files...one of which it appears, ironically enough, that I've joined the ranks of." "Look, I don't know what you're trying to pull..." "I'm not trying to pull anything!" I exclaim, loosing my calm. "Don't you get it?" I sigh. "Your full name is Fox William Mulder. You were born on October 13 1961. Your badge number is JTT047101111. You're father's name is Bill and your mother's name is Teena..." I trail off, not knowing if I should mention her. "You have a sister. Samantha Ann." I let my voice go soft. "In my reality, she disappeared when you were 12 years old." He shakes his head. "You could've found that out anywhere..." I nod. "You're right. But I also know that you used to play pick-up games of baseball with your sister all day and you used to ride your bikes to the beach and eat baloney sandwiches. You told me about how your sister fell off the swing one time and broke her collar bone and how you climbed a tree once and had a..." I trail off, racking my brain for his exact words..."what did you call it? A "praying mantis epiphany" in which you screamed at the thought that something so horrible could exist..." I smile to myself at the memory. "You made sure to specify, though that it was *not* a girly scream, but you've hated insects ever since." He's speechless at my knowledge of him. Come to think about it, so am I. I sit down on a nearby bench and he sits down with me, completely dumbstruck. "You told me about how much you hated fire ever since your friend's house burnt down and you had to keep watch over it with him to protect it from the looters. Ever since that night and for years afterwards, you had nightmares about being trapped in a burning building." I pause and he still doesn't speak, but I'm not looking at him. "I know that when you were 14 you stayed up all night to watch...um...Belt... Colonel Belt's space walk and that you wanted to be an astronaut. You loved to play Stratego...that's what you were playing when Samantha was taken, and watching The Magician." "I know that you love sunflower seeds. You told me once that your father loved sunflower seeds too. You only usually drink iced tea or orange juice and you don't like strong wine," I motion the wine bottle in his hands. "In my reality, I'm the one that introduced you to that wine." I look back down at my hands and see his tie. "You're red- green color blind, although the FBI can't know that or they wouldn't have admitted you. I've always wondered how you got through the tests..." "I learned to distinguish the different shades of the red and green," he says quietly. I look up at his first words since I started my tirade. He looks up and meets my eyes. "I can tell their different colors, I just can't know red or green the way you do, so I just learned to distinguish between what should be red and what should be green." I nod, seeing the complete and utter shock in his face. Hell, I'm rather shocked myself. I'd never thought about it, but I know an awful lot about Mulder. And I'd sort of whammed him with it all in one fell swoop. No wonder he looks about ready to fall off his seat. I would be too if someone did the same to me. "I'm sorry I came here," I say, standing up. "I shouldn't have bothered you, I don't know what I thought you could do..." He stops me with a hand on my arm. I look at it before I look at him and just as I do, his eyes raise up to mine. "Don't go," he whispers quietly. "I believe you." He shakes his head. "I don't know why, but something in me tells me that I can and that I should, that if I ever believed anybody...in anybody, it should be you." My heart soars and a great weight is lifted off my shoulders. God, I could kiss him... +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Pilot", "FTF" Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: "Tell him it's not true." "It's not true." "Is that true?" "No, it's not true." "Aha! So it is true!" "A double negative." "A double negative? You mean you have...photographs?"-from Clue. Author's Notes: This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: To all the wonderful, wonderful people who sent me all that gorgeous, incredible, tasty feedback. It kept me smiling all day and probably for weeks to come so thank you! Also, thanks to those of you who caught and brought the Chilmark thing to my attention. Feedback: Don't you want to be the recipient of the gushing gratitude I described above? If so...write to... Emania1224@aol.com . It will be adored, imbibed and worshipped there. I can assure you. ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 5 ++++++++++++++ "...when I wak'd/ I cried to dream again." -William Shakespeare, The Tempest (III.ii.142-43) I don't think I've ever been more nervous. Mulder stops and looks back at me. He smiles crookedly and walks back down the drive and put his hand on it's usual place on the small of my back, beginning to lead me forward. It's a weird sensation. This Mulder has never met me before a few hours ago, and yet here he is, putting his hand in the same place the Mulder that does know me has been putting it for the past 6 years, practically. "I just need to go in and get my id and we'll go right over to the Boston Field Office," he explains as he leads me to the front door of his house. I resist his gentle prodding once we reach the door. "Look, I shouldn't have interrupted your dinner. This can wait until tomorrow." He shakes his head and opens the door, leading me inside. "You can't be that nervous to seeing my family, can you? I mean, you must've met them before?" I look up at him. "You're married?" His eyebrows raise. "No," he laughs a little. "No...my mother, my sister, her husband & their kids." I close my eyes. My God, he had his sister back in this life. No wonder he wasn't with the X-Files anymore. She was back. His quest was complete. I open my eyes, about to speak when the door opens and a little girl, about 6 years old runs out and right into Mulder's arms. "Uncle Fox!" she squeals in delight. He lifts her up into his arms as best he can with a wine bottle in his hands. "Where are you going, little one?" he asks her. She smiles shyly. "I saw you coming up the walk with the pretty lady," she confesses. "Where's your mother?" Mulder asks her. "She's helping Gemma with the dinner..." she trails off, sneaking a peak at me. I can't help it, as much as I'm in shock to see Mulder's niece in his arms, I can't help but smile. Mulder sees the exchange between us and turns her around so that they could both look at me. "This little Hellfire," he tells me, bouncing the girl in his arms until she laughs into his shoulder. "Is Sarina...more affectionately called Ninna..." he bounces her again until she looks up at me. "Ninna, this is Dana." I extend a hand to her which she takes and smiles shyly at me. "It's very nice meeting you, Ninna....I can call you Ninna, can't I?" She nods. "What do they call you?" "My little brother calls me Daney sometimes." I touch her pretty little nose and she blushes. "You can call me Daney if you want." "You're very pretty," she tells me. I smile at her little girl candidness. "Thank you very much, Ninna. You're very pretty, too." She shakes her head. "Not as pretty as you." She looks up at Mulder. "Isn't she pretty, Uncle Fox?" Mulder nods seriously, looking at me. "Very pretty, Ninna." Ninna turns to me as if saying, 'I told you so.' "Are you going to stay for dinner, Daney?" I look at Mulder and begin to shake my head when he interrupts. "What a wonderful idea, Ninna..." he puts her down inside the house and motions for me to enter, closing the door behind me. "You are so smart." Ninna smiles brilliantly and takes my hand. "Momma!" she calls leading me in the direction I suppose is the kitchen. "Uncle Fox's friend is staying for dinner!" I look back at Mulder helplessly and he shrugs. "You said it could wait until tomorrow, right?" Like I said. I've never been more nervous in my life. Ninna pushes open the kitchen's door and I immediately smell the wonderful scent of a home cooked lasagna. But the first thing I notice is the tall, curly-haired woman standing at the sink who turns slowly to us as we walk in. She smiles amiably as she wipes her wet hands on a towel. Mulder walks past me and hands her the wine and bread. She accepts it and puts it on the counter next to her. "Took you long enough," she says playfully. "I met an old friend at the grocer's. It took me some time to convince her to come for dinner," Mulder says, picking at a piece of lettuce from the salad she had been rinsing. He turns to me and motions me closer. "Sam, this is Dana Scully...Dana, this is my sister, Samantha." I take her extended hand and am still amazed that I am actually touching her. It was the same feeling as when I was little and would reach out for the bird that always used to come to my window ledge. I never caught it but I kept trying until one day, I finally did. It felt surreal. I must have a rather mawkish look on my face because Samantha smiles tentatively at me before speaking. "Welcome, Dana. It's nice to meet you." +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "Was your sister ever taken in your world?" I ask once we're alone in the veranda. He nods, sipping from his glass of wine. "Just like you said, when I was 12." "How did you get her back?" "I didn't. She was returned to us," he says softly. "Just like that?" He's quiet for awhile and I think I might have overstepped my bounds with this Mulder. Here I was, essentially a stranger to him asking him all these personal questions. "No...there's always a price to pay, isn't there?" he turns to me. I nod pensively. "Is that why you left the X-Files?" He looks down at his hands on the balustrade and I don't think he's going to answer. "A man came to me about 2 years after I found the files...right after a particularly grueling case...some children in Bellefleur, Oregon were disappearing and it seemed like an abduction case, well, right after that case, he came to me and offered me a chance to see my sister again. But I had to drop the X- Files. I had to discontinue my interest in them and close them right back up." Two years after he found the files...that would be right around... "When he came to you...that wouldn't be around March of '92, would it?" I ask. He nods slowly. "Why?" "That's when I was assigned to the X-Files in my reality." I shake my head, not really believing what this seemed to be insinuating. "That case you worked...the one with the children in Oregon...I worked that with you. It was the first case I worked with you." A thought struck me suddenly. No...not a thought, per say. More a memory. Lying spent and so tired from tests and cancer and Mulder telling me he had been offered a chance that he had almost taken... And another memory... One where he told me I had kept him sane... Could it be? Could my not being in the FBI have changed so much? "That man...that came to you..." I started. "Hmm?" he prompted. "He didn't happen to be a chain smoker, did he?" Mulder nodded slowly, something dawning in his eyes. "Morleys?" I continue. Again, he nods. "Bastard!" I exclaim under my breath. They had gotten it right in this reality. They had gotten to him. But he had his sister and appeared to be happy. So, which reality was better? Should I even try to return to mine? What did I really have there worth returning to? A career? That's a joke. I have more of a career here with my own medical practice. A family? Without my sister and father? A life? At least I had enough of a life here to have been married. And children... I can have children in this reality. I can get pregnant...I've never been abducted in this reality, never been tested on...never been violated or... Never seen the look of relief on the faces of those we've helped. Never been held in his arms and comforted until the crying stopped. Never forged the bond between us that only comes after years of experiences shared... Never held Emily in my arms... It's a tough decision. Not that I'm even sure I have a decision at all. Who knows if I could get back... Even if I wanted to... +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Pilot", "FTF" Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: "Tell him it's not true." "It's not true." "Is that true?" "No, it's not true." "Aha! So it is true!" "A double negative." "A double negative? You mean you have...photographs?"-from Clue. Author's Notes: This fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: There are too many of them to name here...it'd probably be longer than this piece of fic itself, so, I'm going to refrain, even though I've tried to write back to each individually, so you should all know who you are. The wonderful feedback and encouragement and "cyber-pats" on the back is what keeps me writing even when the muse decides to take a little potty break. Keep it coming, people. It's my bread and water. Also, a special thanks to Amanda for her great idea. I hope I can do it justice. Feedback: It's especially important at this point, because I'm really not sure about this piece. I'd appreciate you all's feedback. Like it? Hate it? Too fast? Please lemme know... write to... Emania1224@aol.com . ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 6 ++++++++++++++ "Save me from torturing myself/ even within my dreams." -Iron Maiden "Where the Hell are you?" I sigh into the receiver. I knew this was going to be my greeting. Which is exactly why I had avoided calling until the last minute. "I'm in Boston," I say calmly. "Or, more specifically, I'm on Martha's Vineyard." "What in God's name are you doing on Martha's Vineyard?" His voice is so loud that I have to pull the phone away from my ear and even so, I can still hear him. As a matter of fact, I think Mulder who is sitting on the other side of the desk, can hear him because when I look at him apologetically, he just raises an eyebrow. "Will you please calm down, Bill? You're acting as if I were a 15 year old out passed curfew, for God's sake." "Well, you're certainly acting like one, Dana..." "Don't start Bill-" I interrupt. "I will *not* re-iterate the fact that I am well past the age when I have to check in every half an hour, is that clear?" There must be something in my voice that this Bill hasn't heard before because he's speechless for the first time I can ever remember. This disconcerts me somehow. This certainly wouldn't have been the first time I told my reality's Bill. "Would you please put Mom on the phone?" I ask, my voice returning to it's normal pitch. "She went with Tara, Mathew, and Dad to the Christmas show at the park." "Well, would you tell her that I'm with an old friend on the Vineyard and I'll be spending the night? That I'll call her tomorrow?" "A friend? Dana-" "Bill..." I say warningly. "Just give her the message, please." "Fine," he answers crisply. "Fine," I agree about to hang up the phone. "He called again," he adds as an afterthought. "And?" I ask carefully. "Nothing. I answered the phone." "Fine. Thank you." I hang up the phone and turn to Mulder. I sigh and he smiles understandingly. "Big brother?" I nod slowly, rolling my eyes. "Big brother. Funny how they never change no matter the reality." "You know...I've been thinking about this and what if this isn't just another reality?" he leans forward in his chair. "What if this is your actual reality only with a few changes." My eyebrow goes up. I guess old habits do die hard. "No... hear me out. You said that you and...um...well, me..." he pauses at the irony but continues without comment. "went to this warehouse to talk to a man about a time travel machine. What if your reality's me went back in time and changed something in the past to alter your reality and created this." I bring the rolling chair up to the desk and lean on the polished wood. "Well, besides the obvious, there's two problems with that theory." "Which are?" "One...the life that is the most altered is mind, alluding that the major change occurred in my life. This would make sense since your life hasn't changed...you're still in the FBI..." "I just don't have you as a partner." "Exactly," I agree. "And the case that we worked together you worked alone and after that..." "I gave up the X-Files." I nod silently, knowing that I need not go further with that train of thought. He picked it up. The way he always does. "And two," I continue my points, "Why would I remember my other reality? If my Mulder changed my past, why would I still remember it and not know this one? The whole time travel idea assumes that I wouldn't remember the changes unless I were the traveler and I am not the traveler. If my Mulder did go back and change the past, it would stand to reason that you would be the one that remembers...not me." Mulder's lips turn up slightly in a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. "*Your* Mulder?" I try to remain straight faced, but it's not very easy. "Did you not hear a single word I said?" "Not after you claimed my alternate reality brother as yours," he admits easily. "That's *not* what I meant," I argue. "It's alright. I was hoping that I wasn't that much of an idiot in your reality," he says smugly. I raise an eyebrow and shake my head. "We're just partners." He frowns slightly. "So I am that stupid." "It's not like that at all..." I pause, the fact that I'm trying to explain to Mulder about Mulder and my relationship...a relationship I wasn't all together too clear of myself...was just too much for my wearied brain to handle. "Look," I say, deciding to change tactics. "You haven't hit on your partner, have you? On Agent Mallory?" He shakes his head stubbornly. "That's different." "Why?" I insist. "Two reasons," he lifts the appropriate amount of fingers. I raise my eyebrow to show that I'm listening. "One: Agent Mallory doesn't know me as well as you know me," he leans back into the chair again. "And two?" I ask softly. "Two?" He waits until I meet his eyes to answer. "Agent Mallory isn't my type." +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "So, where to?" "I thought if we could track down this scientist you went to see in your reality, he might be working on a machine in this reality too," Mulder answers, turning on the car. I nod silently and turn to look out the window at the picture perfect house filled with the sounds of children laughing...Mulder's niece and nephew...Mulder's sister... "How different are our lives?" he asks from very close next to me. He's looking out the window with me, seeing the silhouette of his sister in the living room window, playing with his nephew Joshua while Ninna looks on happily. "Very different," I respond quietly, never taking my eyes off the glimpses of the scene I can catch from the window. "Better or worse?" I close my eyes as Ninna catches my eye from the window and pulls back the curtain to wave. I wave back and turn to Mulder. I intend to give him a vague answer. Something he could live with. He wouldn't know the difference anyway...but he's helping me work towards possibly destroying this life for him. I'm working towards sending him back to a lonely life in a small, cold, apartment...without warmth, but with passion. Must life always be a trade off? Couldn't we have just a little bit of happiness in our lives? Couldn't we have what we want? Do we always have to give something up? What poet was it that spoke about shades of gray...about life being shades of gray...but he was wrong, wasn't he? There's always black or white. You can't have both and you can't mix them. I have my sister and father in this life, but not the FBI. I don't have my independence. And Mulder? Mulder has his sister and a wonderful family life, but where's his passion? His drive? Yes, there's a certain happiness when I look into his eyes, but there's also an emptiness there... And emptiness that used to be occupied by an inexhaustible passion for the truth. Yes, his sister was the cause of it, but I don't think my Mulder would give up his quest even if he found her again. It's more than that now. For both of us. So, why do I feel like I'm making excuses for the choice I know I'm leaning towards? "I don't know, Mulder," I answer honestly. He takes my chin in his hand and lifts my face to look at me in the eyes. "Do you *want* to go back, Dana?" "I don't know," I repeat. I sigh and close my eyes. "I'm trying to figure that out." "Hey," he calls softly touching my skin where he held my chin. "I know I haven't known you as long as he has, but I am him after all, only somewhat different, and even though I don't know how you got here or really what I'm going to do in the long run, but I do know two things..." he pauses. "I know, looking into your eyes, that my soul knows you even if my mind doesn't and because it knows you, I know that whatever you decide to do will be the best thing you know to do. I trust you, Dana. And I have faith in you." My eyes water and the tears fall. Two men, the same, yet different, telling me something, so similar and yet different. If I'm not mad already, I will be soon from the sensations of two different realities overlapping. I close my eyes and sigh. "Oh, Mulder...I just..." He lifts my face again. I open my mouth to speak, but he wipes my tears and before I can completely analyze the situation or remind myself where I am and with whom I *really* am...he touches his lips to mine. And then it's over. Before I can even respond, he's starting the car. I have to blink a few times to convince myself I'm awake, but I can still feel the pressure where his lips had been and the warmth where his hand had been. "We'll start with a background check on you so you can familiarize yourself...and..." he looks at me and at my look of total bewilderment, smiles. "Do you remember the name of the scientist?" +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG-13, leaning a little towards R but only cause of "adult themes & language" in a very small part. Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: more like references, actually...sort of acknowledgements...they don't really *spoil* anything, y'see. Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: Well...I can't think of anything witty to say, so I'll just come right out and speak plainly. They're not mine. See? That wasn't hard at all... Author's Notes: ooh...I just realized something as I was re-reading the first chapters of this story with my best friend...I kinda made a boo-boo, but I don't think I'm going to fix it...see...I had already named Scully's ex- husband, Sebastian, but I didn't remember that, and I gave him a different name here...problem is, I like the name I gave him here better...so I'm keeping it. So...there!! Oh, and this fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: There are too many of them to name here...it'd probably be longer than this piece of fic itself, so, I'm going to refrain, even though I've tried to write back to each individually, so you should all know who you are. The wonderful feedback and encouragement and "cyber-pats" on the back is what keeps me writing even when the muse decides to take a little potty break. Keep it coming, people. It's my bread and water. Also, a special thanks to Amanda for her great idea. I hope I can do it justice. Feedback: I'm treading on strange new waters, people. I've never really done something like the muse is making me do in this story, so please lemme know how I'm doing. You've all been so good with feedback until now...I couldn't possibly complain, but I can beg, can't I? DON'T ABANDON ME NOW! Write to... Emania1224@aol.com . ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 7 ++++++++++++++ "Sweet dreams are made of these/ Who am I to disagree?" -Eurythmics, Sweet Dreams "He's not bad looking," Fox comments, looking up at me from the computer screen where he called up my ex- husband's driver's license picture. I lean down to better look at the computer, catching a whiff of his cologne as I do. Cologne? Since when does Mulder where cologne? It's good. God, he smells good. And it's not only the cologne. This is cologne mixed with pure, intoxicating, unadulterated, MulderSmell extract. The result is dizzying. It's always been dizzying. Every single time I've smelled it and I assure you, I can enumerate them as well as I could my shopping list. They're all ingrained in my mind. After all, I may not have Mulder's eidetic memory, but you don't forget something like that. I realize that he's waiting for me to speak, to comment, but I don't really remember what I'm supposed to be commenting on. I blink in a fruitless effort to clear my mind and try to remind myself of what he had said before, but I draw a total blank. "I think your line is 'You're much better looking than him, Fox...by far,' " he says playfully. Right!! My ex-husband! That's what we had been talking about!! I snap into realization and look at the screen. The man staring back at me is handsome. Hell, he is downright gorgeous. Even in a drivers' license picture. His dirty blonde hair is cropped short at his neck and styled modishly. His green eyes are intense as they look into the camera. There's no hint of a smile on his full lips, but there's definitely a hint of something. He has a strong jaw line; a Romanesque nose... No...there isn't a certain something...I know exactly what it is... Sex. Pure and simple. The man is simply sexual. My heart starts beating faster just from the look in his eyes. All this from a damned DMV picture!! Damn. I could see where I would be attracted to him... I've never met him in my reality. I would remember. That's for damn sure. "Well? Did you know him in your other life?" I turn back to him and raise an eyebrow, standing away from him. Is it me, or did Mulder just read my mind? I shake my head dismissively. "Never seen him before." "You think he's cuter than me, don't you?" he asks teasingly. I shake my head again. "It's not that...it's..." I trail off and look back at the picture. "It's..." I sigh. "What?" he insists. "Sex." Shit. Did I just say that aloud? Fuck me. "Really?" I turn to him and his eyebrow is high up on his forehead. "I thought you didn't remember him?" I shake my head. "I don't...it's just the feeling he gives off...like..." "A bitch in heat?" he offers. I glare at him as I sit down in the chair before his desk. "Let's just say that I could definitely see myself attracted to him." "Right," Mulder says, looking back at the computer and beginning to type on the keyboard. Could that be considered as a jealous reaction? "But I could also see why we would end up divorcing," I add. He looks back at me. "Yeah? Why's that?" "He looks demanding..." I shake my head. "Possessive, controlling... as if he expects to get what he wants when he wants it, and would brook no further argument on the matter." "Well, he's certainly got enough money for it," he looks back at the computer screen. "He's just recently been named one of Forbes top 10." My eyebrows go way up. "You're kidding?" He shakes his head. "You want to know his name? You haven't even asked me his name." I already knew his first name. My family had made reference to it, but I didn't know his last name...and, as important as it felt for me to know that when I first found out about him, I wasn't half as interested now. There's another one to ask my psychologist. (Yes, I know I don't have one, but I'm making a mental note to get one as soon as I get back...or even if I don't get back...okay, *especially* if I don't get back.) "Okay...so what's his name?" "Joseph Harrington." "Sounds English." Mulder nods. "He is. He went to Oxford Undergraduate and came to Boston for Harvard Business school. He liked it so much, that he decided to stay here. He has several properties, one of which is in Georgetown, which is, by the way, where your apartment was before you married him 5 years ago, another house On Long Island which is where your *home base* was, so to speak, and the other which is..." he looks at me, "care to guess where?" "On Martha's Vineyard?" His eyes open wide. "You're psychic, aren't you?" "I was trained as an FBI Agent in my reality, remember?" I shrug. "So, tell me more about me. I married Joseph Harrington 5 years ago but what about before then?" I sigh. "I need to find out what happened...where the two realities diverged." "I think it's pretty obvious," Mulder says, leaning on his desk. "Really?" "Yeah. The biggest difference where everything else seems to stem is the fact that you're not in the FBI in this reality..." he trails off and a certain light comes into his eyes that I know all too well. He's getting an idea. "What?" I ask, semi-afraid. I'm always semi-afraid when he gets that look in his eyes. He's quiet for a few moments as he considers his thought and how he's going to voice it. "Assuming that, as you believe, this is an alternate reality which existed simultaneously, alone, and apart from your reality and you were somehow brought into this reality...then what happened to the you who's reality this officially is?" He looks up at me. I don't know what to say. The fact that there's another me running around here...I'd never even considered the possibility. It had never entered my mind that someone had already been living this reality. Someone had made the decision not to join the FBI where I had decided to join the FBI. "It stands to reason that if you were transferred here..." "She was transferred there," I finish for him. Shit. There's another me running around in my reality. There's another me living my life, there's another me who's never handled a gun in her life having to play off being an FBI Agent...another me having to face the reality that she doesn't have her father or sister when just a few days ago she did have them...another me in *my* apartment and talking with *my* Mulder and... Oh My God. Mulder's going to flip. Wait, wait, wait... I laugh aloud. What am I doing? I'm assuming that this is really happening. When did I stop assuming I was suffering a neurotic episode? A neurotic episode would make much more sense than that I'm actually in an alternate reality. Of course... "Dana? Are you alright?" I focus my eyes on him and smile slightly. "Fine, Mulder...I'm fine." He raises an eyebrow at me. "Why don't I like the way you say that?" I laugh aloud. "Because, Mulder, you never have," I admit. "Can I ask you something?" I shrug. "Sure. Why not?" "Why do you call me Mulder instead of by my name?" I laugh again. "You mean to tell me that in this reality, you actually like your name?" "You mean that in the other reality I don't?" I lean back in my seat. "Well, I tried calling you Fox once when we first started working together, but you told me you made even your parents call you Mulder, so... I shrug again. "I've never tried again." Mulder shakes his head. "Well, please call me Fox... at least that way I'll know you really know you're talking to me and not the other me...alright?" Well, it'll certainly feel strange, but...I guess it would help keep them straight. I wonder what a psychologist would say about this...that I could call this Mulder Fox but...oh, I'm not even getting into that mess! "Fine. I'm not going to worry about another me running around my reality right now, Fox," I tell him, returning to our previous subject. "I'll just worry about that when I get back." "And you want to get back, don't you?" he asks, avoiding my eyes. "I have to. I have to because it's the only thing I can grab onto now, Fox. I need a goal, something to accomplish, to make sure I'm not crazy and imagining things...without that, I have..." "Just your father, sister, and..." he looks up at me. "And me." I open my mouth to speak, but he must see something in my eyes because he stops me from speaking by breaking the gaze and turning back to the computer. "So, you divorced Harrington a little less than 3 months ago...it was all over the papers... the day your news went public, the stock market dropped a few points for his company, IVE." "Can you find out what happened?" I ask. "Why exactly we divorced?" Mulder flips through the pages on his computer and shakes his head. "No gossip in the newspapers the FBI computer looks up, I'm afraid." "So where do I live now?" "I think you're back to the apartment in Georgetown." He looks back at me. "Do you have any keys with you? Maybe you have the apartment's key." I nod and look in my purse for my keys, finding them and taking them out. I look through them, my car key looking familiar and my mother's house's key another one, but something looks different...something is missing... His key. Of course. I don't have his key. "What?" he asks, noticing my saddened look of realization. I shake my head. "Nothing...I just realized something, but it's nothing." Why hadn't I realized how comforting that key felt in my ring before? Why is it so disconcerting not to have its weight? Maybe it's the fact that there was a certain solace in having his key. It meant that someone that didn't have to trusted in me enough to give me his key. It meant he cared enough about me in his life to give me access to his most private place. It meant that there was someone in my life who didn't try to keep anything from me...just like I felt about him... I look down at the keys absently and find one that looks like the key for my apartment in my reality. "I think this is it," I point it out. "It looks like the key for my apartment..." Fox takes it and grins. "I say we check it out. Who knows what else we can find there." "Wait," I stand up after him. "What about the scientist?" Fox shakes his head. "I couldn't find anything on him. Not so much as a driver's license or a birth certificate." "We should call the Gunmen," I say before realizing that maybe they didn't exist in this reality. I mean, the boys would, but maybe they weren't together...maybe they didn't do the whole Lone Gunmen bit, or maybe, and most probably Fox didn't know them. I knew they had met before Mulder started work on the X-Files. Isn't that what they had told me once? "How do you know them?" Fox asks, stopping at the door. "They're some of Mulder's best friends in my reality. They help us a lot with the X-Files. They're a little annoying sometimes, but they're great friends. They'd do anything for Mulder...and me, too, come to think about it." I grab my purse as I come up to him at the door. "Do you know them?" "I've met them a few times, yes. But they're a little..." "Weird...yes, I know," I nod my agreement. "But they've got great connections and could probably find this guy if he exists at all." Fox opens the door and holds it open for me. "I was going to say paranoid, actually." "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black," I say as I walk out the door. "What are you trying to say?" he asks as he walks out after me. I shake my head. "Never mind." He locks the door behind us. "Sure. Fine. Whatever." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: PG-13, just cause of some of the language used. Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Small Potatoes" Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: Well...I can't think of anything witty to say, so I'll just come right out and speak plainly. They're not mine. See? That wasn't hard at all... Author's Notes: I was going to make this part longer, but I'm going to attempt to do something and because of that, I should break it here. But don't worry, I've got plenty of part 9 done because of this, so, it should just be a matter of writing what's missing and getting the okay from my Beta Goddesses. And, as always, this fic was, believe it or not, inspired by the song (hence the title) from the Disney movie "Pocahontas". But no...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: There are too many of them to name here...it'd probably be longer than this piece of fic itself, so, I'm going to refrain, even though I've tried to write back to each individually, so you should all know who you are. The wonderful feedback and encouragement and "cyber-pats" on the back is what keeps me writing even when the muse decides to take a little potty break. Keep it coming, people. It's my bread and water. Also, a special thanks to Amanda for her great idea. I hope I can do it justice. And to Char for her willingness to correct my faulty sense of grammar and syntax and to her and CitCFan for listening patiently while I vented my insecurities and for giving me priceless advice! Y'all are great!! Feedback: HELP! The pace I'm taking this is strange and new to me, so please write me and let me know if I'm going too fast or too slow or...well, whatever. Write to... Emania1224@aol.com . ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 8 ++++++++++++++ "but should I be believing that I am only dreaming?" -Enya, Anywhere Is My apartment didn't really yield much more information, at least about my ex-husband as it was still quite a mess from the move back in. There were still boxes pushed to corners and left un-opened. Although I doubted that I would get much information about Joseph Harrington from anything in here. Perhaps I could find photo albums, though. Something about my life before him or maybe even with him. I find Fox standing by the living room, not knowing exactly how much liberty to take in looking through my personal belongings. He looks like a lost child. I restrain form laughing. "Listen," I say, coming up to him. "Why don't you go on home?" I ask. "Want to get rid of me that soon?" he asks. I shake my head and smile. "No, but I essentially ripped you away from your family and I don't want to take up any more of your time. It's going to take you quite a while to drive back to the Vineyard as it is." He nods his head solemnly. "You do want to get rid of me." "Don't be silly," I insist. "Then prove it. Let me take you out to dinner." "Fox..." "You can get ready in 20 minutes can't you? I can call this really nice restaurant a few blocks from here and we'll be eating within the hour." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "Am I really so different?" I snap to attention and raise an eyebrow. Where the hell did this come from? We were talking about the nice atmosphere, the good food, and then this? "Why do you ask that?" He shrugs as our waitress appears with our food. I watch as he almost absently places his napkin on his lap. "That's why," he says, calling my attention to his eyes again. "What?" "The way you look at me doing certain things as if I'm possessed or something." I shrug as I take my napkin and do the same. "I'm just seeing a whole new side of you..." I stop myself, realizing what happened the last time I said that to him. Eddie Van Blundht is still all too present in my memory. "So I am that different from the Mulder you know," he watches me across the table. I sigh. "I suppose...but it's more the little things...the way you carry yourself, the way you smile, or some of the things you say..." I shake my head. "But there're so many things that are just the same." "Like?" I smile. "The way you cut your meat," I point out the action he was committing right at the moment. "The way you get excited over the littlest things, the way you hardly pay attention to anything else when one thing has your attention but somehow *still* manage to catch something I would've missed, the way you type with two fingers instead of the correct way...the way you smell..." I stop as I notice his smile and take a sip from my glass to keep from talking. Things were getting way out of hand. It was too easy for me to come close to that line that Mulder and I always dance around in my reality. Here, Fox keeps dancing me closer and closer to it, pulling me ever nearer the edge until I look down and realize suddenly that if I move the wrong way, I'll be over it with no way of getting back. And then where will I be? "Look," his serious tone brings my attention completely to him once again. But before he can speak, a man's shadow falls over the table. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" Simultaneously, Fox and I look up to come face to face with Joseph Harrington, dressed to the nines and with a stare that would melt the ice-caps if he directed it the right way. I mentally straighten my shoulders and put on my 'facing- the-angry-boss-so-look-cold-and-untouchable' face. "Joseph," I say, nodding. He looks at Mulder. "I am so sorry for intruding, but I couldn't see my wife without coming over to say hello." "Ex-wife, Joseph," I correct him. I was right. I wouldn't have lasted very long. After 2 sentences that he's spoken, I have no more doubts in my mind why we divorced. He still hasn't looked away from Mulder. "What do you need, Joseph?" I ask, drawing his attention. I can see in Mulder's eyes that if I don't, something ugly is going to happen. He hasn't spoken because he hasn't been included in the conversation, but I can tell he won't care if Joseph keeps staring at him that way. Joseph looks back at me. "You're mother told me you were out of town just yesterday morning, and that you weren't coming back for a few months at least." I shrug. "So I'm back early...is there a problem with that?" "Back early and you go instantly to see your new lover, Dana?" Joseph asks sarcastically. "It no longer is any of your business, Joseph, what I do with my time and who I go see before anybody else." "You always were a little slut," Joseph says between clenched teeth. "I don't know why I tried so hard to win you...you're a 5 dollar whore if ever I've met one." Funny. It doesn't sting one little bit. And not just because I don't know him, but I really don't care what he thinks. It might have something to do with the fact that he's acting like a spoiled child who hasn't gotten his own way. "If that's all you have to say Joseph, I'd like to finish enjoying my dinner," I say coolly. If only the people back in my world's bullpen could see me now! Ice Queen is back and in full freeze. "We need to talk," he says, through clenched teeth still. I think if he doesn't stop doing that he'll break those perfect pearly white's of his right in half. I almost laugh. "I think you've said all you need to say, Joseph." "Nowhere near it, sweetheart...that was just the pleasantries." "*I* think you've outlived your welcome at our table *and* in her life, Mr. Harrington," Mulder speaks standing next to him imposingly. (Imposing is something we learn in FBI school. It comes in handy plenty of times.) "And if you've suddenly drawn a blank as to the way out of this restaurant I'll be more than happy to show you." "Who the *Hell* do you think you are?" Joseph asks angrily. "My name is Special Agent Fox Mulder, Mr. Harrington, I'm with the FBI...care to see my id?" "We're not done here, Dana...there's still much to be settled." "Funny. I thought that's what the divorce papers meant." The maitre d' comes to our table. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" Joseph glares at me and turns to him. "Yes, there is...would you show this annoying bastard the door, please?" The maitre d' looks at Mulder who shrugs and back at Joseph. "Yes, of course," he motions to the side. "If you'll come this way, I'll show you out, sir." "Why you little prick!" Joseph exclaims. "Sir," the maitre d' insists. "I can show you or I can have Tony and Salvatore show you," he motions to the two burly men dressed like cooks, waiting by the kitchen door, watching the scene for any signal from the maitre d'. "Whichever you prefer." "You'll regret this..." he whispers to me. "And you have just lost your restaurant, asshole." The maitre d' bows mockingly. "Have a good night," and then he says something in Italian I don't understand. I'm assuming it's not a good thing. He looks back at Mulder and smiles. "Is everything all right, now, Mr. Mulder?" he asks him. "Can I warm anything up for you? I hope none of the food was ruined." Fox smiles back at him. "The food is wonderful, Lorenzo...but I wish you would have let me take care of that jerk myself." "And let you leave this lovely young lady by herself?" Lorenzo smiles at me. "I wouldn't dream of it!" I smile back and he snaps his fingers to get the attention of the nearest busboy. "Francesco...more wine!" he orders as he winks at us and walks away. I look at Fox, blatantly amazed and he smiles and shrugs but offers no explanation. I just shake my head as the second bottle of wine is brought to our table. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: R (yes, finally!!!) slightly leaning towards NC- 17 towards the end. Oh, and I don't know if there is exactly a rating for this, but Sap warning ahead. Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Milagro" and I think that's it. Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: nope. I'm that *that* delusional! Author's Notes: Okay, so here's the poetic license statement for this part: I'm not sure if Scully's apartment is really the way I describe it here. I did think about going to Deep Background to check it out, but then I realized that for my purposes I prefer it the way I set it up. So, there! Please don't hate me! No...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: Special thanks to Amanda for her great idea. I hope I can do it justice. And to Char for her willingness to correct my faulty sense of grammar and syntax and to her and Kelly for listening patiently while I vented my insecurities and for giving me priceless advice! Y'all are great!! And, of course, to all those people out there who've fed me daily and without fault by their loyalty and their gracefulness in writing back! Oh! And this one is for *all* those people out there who think the chapters should be longer...I hope you're satisfied!! Feedback: Now, I know I've said I needed your feedback because I wasn't sure of something before, and I really did mean it, but now I'm so far off what I usually write that I wouldn't recognize me if I had to look at me from across the room. So, please tell me if I should venture into this venue again? Okay? Write to...Emania1224@aol.com . ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 9 ++++++++++++++ "I've died so many times, I'm only just coming to life." -Neneh Cherry, Woman "Maybe you shouldn't go back to your apartment tonight?" I didn't just hear him say that. I mean, sure, I've had a considerable amount of wine, but I don't think I'm that drunk either. I turn to him. "Excuse me?" He turns a light shade of red and shakes his head. "No...not...it's just...well..." he stops and takes a deep breath. "Joseph might be waiting for you to be alone. It might not be safe." "I *really* want to go back to my apartment, Fox...I need to shower and change..." I trail off. I can see he's not going to push it, and I could leave it where it is, but... dammit! Why should I? I can't be afraid of everything all my life can I? Wasn't it Shakespeare that said that a 'coward dies many deaths?' or something equally prophetic along those lines, anyway. Mulder would know. I turn to him as he opens up the passenger side door and he helps me in, all without meeting my eyes. I let him close the door for me and then I reach over and unlock his side before he can reach it. I wait until he's inside and starting the car before speaking. I don't look at him, though. "But you could stay with me..." I look up and meet his eyes. "In my apartment...you know..." I smile, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. "Do the whole protector bit. Not that I haven't been trained in hand to hand combat at Quantico, but..." I shrug. "If it'll make you feel better." He stares at me for a few moments before turning on the car and pulling out of the restaurant's parking lot. "You don't mind going back for your car in the morning, do you?" he asks without looking at me. I'm staring at him, but he still won't turn to face me. He must know that I'm staring at him, but he still won't look at me. "Not at all." He nods briskly and I decide to occupy myself with something other than the fact that I've essentially invited Mulder to spend the night at my apartment. No...not Mulder...*Fox*. There is a considerable difference here. I start the search calmly enough, a gentle rummaging through my purse, which slowly escalates into a more careful probing of the inner confines of my handbag and eventually turns into an all out hunt, but I still can't find it. "What is it?" Fox asks, apparently no longer able to ignore my frantic searching. I sigh, highly exasperated. "I can't find..." I pause my speech as I take hold of...damn! It's only my brush. "What? What can't you find?" he asks, my exasperation apparently catching. "My phone!" I exclaim, shaking my purse futilely. "Cell phone?" he asks, his tone making it obvious his wonderment at my desperation for a cell phone. "Yes, my cell phone...I *know* I put it in my purse when I left..." I stop, exhaling and falling back against the car seat. "...your apartment to join Mulder?" he finishes for me. I nod and throw my purse on the floor disgustedly. "I guess I don't have a cell phone in this reality." He laughs and points to the glove compartment. "I have one in there." I look at him as if he suddenly began speaking in tongues. "You keep your cell phone in your *glove compartment*???" "You make it sound as if I've committed some form of blasphemy," he glances at me. "I don't know about here, but in my reality, we practically *live* with our phones." I open the glove compartment and find the phone strewn there. I take it up like if it *was* the Holy Grail itself, tisking at it's mistreatment. "Hey, I'm on vacation, remember?" he asks laughingly. I shrug non-committaly. "Whatever." I find the power button and turn it on, sighing at the fact that it wasn't even on. "Who are you calling?" he asks. "Your brother again?" "Why do you want to know?" I ask. "Just wondering if I should take cover." I laugh as I dial the numbers. "Amazing how some things don't change." "Don't tell me your brother doesn't like me in the other reality either?" I shake my head as I put the phone to my ear and he shakes his head. "Damn," he whispers unbelievingly. I don't have to wait long. The line is picked up on the second ring. And, as usual, no one answers. "Frohike, please turn off the machine." The line remains silent. "And don't even think about hanging up on me, you'll want to hear what I've got to say, but I'm not speaking onto some damn machine, so turn it off." There's silence for another few moments and I can faintly hear the low murmuring of voices. "Who the hell are you?" I smile at Frohike's voice. It wouldn't change. And neither would their paranoia. "Turn off the machine first...I think you three've gotten enough of a voice print off of me, don't you?" I hear the click as the machine turns off and then he comes back to the line. "Alright now, who are you and where did you get this number?" "Put me on the speakerphone, cause I'm only going to tell this once, alright?" I glance over at Fox and notice the way he keeps staring at me. He's surprised at how I'm handling them. I hear the receiver being placed on the cradle and the air as the speakerphone is turned on. "Alright, first, let me ask you this...ever heard of a man by the name of Dr. Alfred Strauss?" "And if we have?" Frohike answers after a moment of silence while they looked at each other for a cue. God, it's scary how I know them. It really is. "Well, how would you like to meet one of his guinea pigs?" "And this would be you?" It's Byers this time. I always like Byers. He's so serious. Kinda reminds me of a believing me. "That's right boys. In the flesh." "How can we believe you?" Frohike again. "And why do you come to us?" Langly now. "I came to you because I know I can trust you," I answer. "And you don't know if you can believe me unless I can convince you of what's happened to me. You see..." I look at Fox for support and he nods his encouragement. "See...I knew you...in another reality." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "I'm going to take a quick shower while we wait for the boys to call us back," I say as we walk into my apartment. He hasn't spoken much since I told the Gunmen a Readers' Digest version of what had happened to me. I don't know what's wrong, but I'm afraid to ask. Like I told Mulder once, an irrational fear, but a fear just the same. I stop as I hear him close the door behind me and turn around to face him. He seems unsure of something, and with me being afraid, of what I didn't know, and him being unsure of what I didn't know, it just wasn't a very good combination. I stop...stop moving, stop talking...stop everything until he finally meets my eyes. I smile. "Make yourself at home, alright?" He nods and I look around the living room, realizing that I hadn't put a TV out here. But I know I saw one in the room. I dash inside and see it set up...a small set, but it was set up right before the bed. I go back outside. "You can come into my room if you want to watch TV or something." Again, he nods silently. I consider asking him what's wrong, but I'm not sure I want to know. "I'm not sure what there is in the fridge, but go right ahead and help yourself if you find anything edible." Still no response from him so I go back into the room, quickly pick up some underwear from the drawer and my long nightshirt and boxer shorts. I'm soo glad I have a pair of comfy boxer shorts in this reality too. God, do I need them. I head for the bathroom across from the bedroom and pray that this reality's me has plenty of bubble bath under the sink. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "I feel your lips/ I taste your skin/ I need to know/ I need to feel you from within." -Stabbing Westward, Inside You He's sleeping. I don't know when the last time was that I saw Mulder sleeping. He's sleeping in my bed. All the feelings I've ever felt for him come bubbling up to the surface as I watch his chest move with his breathing. He looks so peaceful. So peaceful and so very beautiful... Images of slipping into the covers next to him float through my mind. Pictures of waking up next to him become all too clear to me as I watch him sleep. And darker thoughts come up from my subconscious, too. Secret, more seductive thoughts creep up on me and tug at my insides. He's laying on his side, the TV's bluish light casting it's shadow on his face...on his supple lips...on his hair... His hair...his hair's a little longer here...not as short as he's taken to wearing it lately. It's falling over his brow in that innocent looking way I so love. What was it Padgett had said? Ah, yes. "Agent Scully is already in love." Did he see something in the few days, maybe months that he watched me that it's taken me years to realize? Or did he notice it only at that instant in his jail cell when I stopped Mulder from confronting him any further. In that moment, did I let my hand linger on his arm a little too long or did I look at him too deeply? "Agent Scully is already in love." Well, he was right, wasn't he? I reach over, almost without realizing it, and brush back Mulder's hair away from his eyes, lightly touching his skin. He stirs, but doesn't wake. Primitive, enticing thoughts swirling around my mind like all consuming fog, threatening to swallow me up and take me within... Within him... It would be so warm within him... How long has my soul cried out for the warmth of completion the joining of our bodies could offer? Almost longer than I've known him... Longer than I've known him... Has there ever been a moment I couldn't imagine myself with him? A moment I can imagine myself without him? What if... What if I never knew you, Mulder? I ask silently. What then? Would we have found each other anyway? Maybe we would cross the street together, or bump into each other in a mall, or spill a drink on each other at some club or party. Or maybe...maybe we would see each other across a room and know, instinctively, that we were meant to know each other. I can't remember exactly what I felt when I first saw him that first day in the basement office. I knew he was supposed to be handsome...they had warned me of that...but they hadn't warned me about the intensity of his stare or the sexy way his lips curve into a smile. God, did I know it even then? That first night in the motel room when I stripped off my bathrobe to the light of a few candles? God, yes, I want him. And I've never allowed myself to want him as much as I want him right now. But I pull away before I cross that line we set down all those years ago. At least, I start to pull away, but am stopped by a hand: firm, gripping my wrist, keeping my hand in place against his skin. I look from the hand to Mulder's face and see his eyes, not dark with sleep, but with something else boring into me, reaching deep within me to touch my soul and my legs go weak. I don't know if he planned it, but he tugs on my hand at just the right moment, causing me to topple forward... ...flesh against flesh... ...skin against skin... And when I open my mouth to protest, to make excuses, he presses his lips to mine hungrily, effectively terminating any prospect of rebuttal. And I... I respond the only way he lets me... I am soooo hungry... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I see the look in his eyes and I know what he's thinking. I see the doubt, the hesitation as he wipes away my tears. I try to smile through my tears but I know I'm feeling too much to smile. How can I make him understand that I'm not crying because of regret or doubt or pain... so much to the contrary...it all feels so right that it's frightening. I've never been any good at describing my feelings. It seems I could never get it right. Now is no different. The feel of his skin on mine, his hands tracing the counters of my heated flesh...it's all soo...soo right. I feel so complete already, and we've hardly begun. Strange this. To feel so utterly complete and yet...yearning... I feel complete and yet I want more...I know I'll never have enough... But how can I tell him? He's pulling away from me, the doubt inside him palpable... Oh, no, my love...no... I pull him towards me, touching his skin everywhere I can reach, kissing his mouth, his neck, his ear, anywhere I can without breaking the complete contact of our bodies. "Don't stop," I finally whisper in his ear. "Please don't stop." Words...so thoroughly inadequate to what I feel inside. I'm still crying, I know, but I can't seem to help it. He returns his attention to his caresses upon my heated flesh and I arch my back in response. "You are so beautiful," he whispers almost too quietly for my inebriated mind to grasp, but his words break through somehow. I wrap my arms around him and hold him even tighter to me. I want so much more of him...I want his heart, I want his beautiful mind, I want to breathe his breath...I want to feel his blood run inside of me...I want to be one with his soul...this is nowhere near enough... "I don't know how or why, but this feels so completely right..." There's wonder in his voice. Confusion, puzzlement, even a little bit of bafflement. Everything I've felt so many times before, but strangely am not feeling now. I don't know why I'm not feeling it. Okay, so I do know why I'm not feeling it. And honestly, I don't care. I don't want to analyze this...I refuse to scrutinize every inch of what I'm doing and why I'm doing this because maybe then I wouldn't do it at all. And I *so* want to do this. So I don't comment. Instead... I'm touching him again, running my hand over hard flesh, feeling his blood as it runs just under his skin. His heartbeat pulsates beneath my fingertips and I marvel at the human body. No...I marvel at *his* body. And as he enters me, I lose myself and I have only one more sentient thought: If only I could stay here forever. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: Tame compared to the last one. But maybe pg-13 for insinuations of previous acts. Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Biogenesis" and I think that's it. Oh, and there's a line here that was inspired by a DD movie...if you can catch it I'll give you...uh...um...a nice big cyber hug. How's that? Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Disclaimer: Y'all have got to know they're not mine, by now! I mean, come on! They're having way too much fun...well...at least Scully is...okay...so only I am...but it's all good, isn't it? Author's Notes: No...it is not a song-fic. Thanx: To everybody who's fed me feedback and have threatened violence if I don't finish this. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And especially to all the people out there who've sent me nice, long, emails that get my noggin thinking and who've let me bounce ideas off of them. And of course, to Char, my Angel of Beta-ing. Feedback: Okay, so now, I'm just plain greedy. I want to know what you think. Alright? So? Is that a crime?? ++++++++++++++ If I Never Knew You Part 10 ++++++++++++++ "No-one can promise a dream come true, Time gave both darkness and dreams to you." -Enya, Once You Had Gold Safe. Sheltered. Cherished. Loved. And, oh so warm. I'd never realized how cold I was before. Why hadn't I ever realized how cold I was? Was I always this cold? I couldn't have always been this cold...could I? Well, they did call me the Ice Queen. Maybe they knew something I didn't. Maybe they knew I was cold. I remember the story of the Ice Queen. Hans Christian Anderson's story. How she stole the little boy and took him to her castle where everything was cold and ice and where he forgot all about the warmth that his friend provided. Am I the Queen or am I the little boy? Well, what does it matter, anyway? I'm neither now, aren't I? I'm warm again. I open my eyes slowly, afraid still that it will all have been a dream, even though I don't remember dreaming since I first got to this reality. Strange, isn't it? I haven't once remembered my dreams since I've been here. I'm usually a rather vivid dreamer, even if I don't always remember everything in them, but at least I remember that I did dream. I haven't remembered dreaming since I've been here... He's sleeping soundly. My back is to him and I'm nestled comfortably within the circle of his arms, but I know he's sleeping soundly. I can feel his breathing through the contact of our skin. I turn around carefully. I don't want to wake him, but I need to see his face. I need to be sure that I am with him. He's at such peace. That's plain on his face. And again, I'm struck with how beautiful he is. Will I never be able to look at this man suddenly and not think that? Will I never be able to look at him and see just a man? Everything about him is so familiar. The fall of his hair, the way his lips open slightly as he sleeps, the shape of his face, the shape of his lips, his scent... Except his eyes. If it weren't for his eyes, I could very well fool myself that I'd just slept with the man that I love almost more than life itself. But his eyes give him away. No, they give *me* away. They unmask any pretense I might have let myself fall under. And, although I know I could very easily come to love this man sleeping next to me, it wouldn't be the man I've loved for over 7 years now. It couldn't be. What's that saying? Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven? Or something along those lines, anyway. Is that what I'm trying to do? Am I trying to rationalize away my being here? His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer to him and his warmth and I know he's waking up...slowly. I don't want to see his eyes yet. I don't want to break this spell just yet. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent. It would be so easy to pretend...to just forget all the hardships from before...from that other life. It would be so easy... "Good morning," he whispers, his voice hoarse from sleep. I swallow, open my eyes and look at him. "Good morning." "I had the strangest dream last night," he tells me after staring at me for a few seconds. "Really? I haven't dreamed since I got here." "Is that strange for you?" he asks. I shrug noncommittally. "What did you dream about?" "You working with me on the X-Files." "I thought you weren't working on those anymore." He nods. "I'm not. But in the dream I was and you were with me and I was so proud that you were with me...it was..." he pauses, and plays absently with my hair. "It felt so effortless to re-open them with you." He looks down at me. "Mulder hasn't let go of the X-Files, has he?" I shake my head. "No, he hasn't." "But he must have been asked to, hasn't he?" I nod, looking away from him. "Yes, he has. It's been hard going, but we've kept them open." I feel him nod and when I look back at him he's looking up at the ceiling. "I bet if I'd have had you with me, I wouldn't have closed them up either," he says quietly. "But you wouldn't have had Samantha," I point out. He looks at me and is about to speak when the phone at my bedside begins to ring. It rings 3 times before Fox motions to it and sits up in the bed. "You should get that, it might be the Gunmen with the information you need." I sigh and reach over for the phone and bring it to my ear. "Scully." "Meet us at the Lincoln Memorial in an hour," Langly says in his best Cloak and Dagger voice, like he wasn't sure my phone wasn't bugged. That's one thing I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have to worry about in this reality. "We'll be there," I say before the line goes dead. I look at Fox and he's already half dressed. "Lincoln Memorial in an hour," I tell him as he turns to face me. "I'll go get us some breakfast while you get ready," he says, puling on his shirt. I wait until he's out of the room before getting out from under the covers. I can feel myself being pulled or pushed, or drawn closer and closer to the edge of the great divide that's been gaping before me since I found myself in this place and I know that when I do get there, I'll have to make a choice. I'll have to make *the* choice. Either stay or go... ...Turn my back on what's ahead of me or jump across to the other side. And the gist of the choice is essentially with which life I'd rather stay. With which Mulder I'd rather stay... The Mulder that *needs* me or the Mulder that *wants* me? ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I'm fidgeting. I know I'm fidgeting because when I was a small child, this would be right about the time my father would reach over and still my hands and scold me and then my mother would look at me and remind me that a lady did not fidget. I almost never fidget anymore. So when I do fidget, I always notice, because I always half expect my father and mother to scold me and still my hands. And now, I'm fidgeting. "Stop fidgeting." I look up at Fox's profile as he looks out into the road ahead of us. God. I've been calling him Fox for the last 2 days. *How in Holy Hell did I get comfortable with calling him Fox?* Well, I slept with him. *I slept with Mulder.* No. I slept with Fox. There's a difference. My God, I *have* really lost it. There's no doubt about it now. I, Dana Katherine Scully, have lost my mind. I can imagine myself through one of those rubber room cameras, blubbering in a corner, probably hog-tied into a straight jacket. And Mulder? He's probably watching me through the camera. As helpless as I was. His heart breaking into as many pieces as mine was when I heard him call out my name. Was I calling out his name? "I am not fidgeting," I argue, immediately stilling my hands. He shrugs but doesn't look away from the road at me. "If you keep worrying that paper any more we won't be able to read the writing on it." I look back down at the paper I *had* been worrying and unfold it from the fan-like shape it had somehow gotten itself into. I stretch it out on my lap, trying now to smooth out the creases. It wasn't working very well. But you could still see Byers' neat handwriting on it. "It's still legible," I say, still looking down at it. I feel the car swerve to the right and I look up in time to see it mount the road's shoulder. I look back at Fox in enough time to see him put it in park. "What the hell are you doing?" I ask, my heart in my throat. He turns around in his seat, flicking off the seatbelt and meeting my eyes. "We don't have to go through with this if you don't want to, Dana." He seems to be waiting for an answer from me, but I can't seem to make my lips move. I'm not even sure I'm breathing. "I mean, this isn't something you should do just because you feel it's what is expected of you. I'll take you there...I don't want to, but I'll take you to meet Dr. Strauss and if it's what you want, I will hold a gun to his head until he gets you back to your reality, but..." he pauses and swallows, "But you should be sure that this is what *you* want, not something you're doing just because there is no other alternative available to you..." he holds my face in his hands. "there is." I bring my hands up to touch his, so warm. I always loved Mulder's hands. I have every single touch of them stored in my memory. Stored and categorized. "It's not that I want to so much as I need to..." I say quietly. "I feel..." he lets my face go and I shake my head, still clutching to his hand. "lost..." I look back up at him. "I feel like I don't belong here...like if this is all some incredibly real dream...quite honestly, as if I'm completely, thoroughly and positively mad." I squeeze his hand reassuringly. "I need to find this doctor, I need to know that he's real. That he is performing these tests and does have this machine and then, once I know that I'm not crazy, then I'll be able to decide, based solely on my feelings, weather I stay or go." "But you already know that. The Gunmen proved that this Strauss is real and that his business is shady enough that there's very little information about him. He was thrown out of the research company he was working for because of his, and I quote, mad theories, end quote." I shake my head. "I just need to be sure, Fox...I need to..." He nods slowly. "I understand," he squeezes my hands and lets go of them to face the wheel again and start the car back up. Once we're back on the road however, he reaches over and takes hold of my left hand with his right, his eyes never leaving the road before him. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Author: Cat E-mail: Emania1224@aol.com Rating: A baby could read this...if a baby could read, that is... Category: MSR, Scully-Angst. Spoilers: "Emily"; Keywords: ScullyAngst; Mulder/Scully Romance; X-File Summary: "What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing?"-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On Archive: I guess if you really want it, you can have it...but please let me know where it is so I can visit it, brag to all my friends, and then sigh contentedly. Disclaimer: Actually, I think if they were mine, Scully probably'd never get near enough to even whiff his cologne...he'd be too busy with...um...NEVERMIND! Author's Notes: Granted. Scully would probably know more about space/time continuum theory than I do but I couldn't begin to imagine where to research this type of thing, so please just bear with the obvious ignorance/ avoidance of the whole explanation of how it happened in this section. I think this might be one of the reasons why it's taken me so long to post this part. Oh, and no...it *still* is not a song-fic. Thanx: To everybody who's fed me feedback and have threatened violence if I don't finish this. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And especially to all the people out there who've sent me nice, long, emails that get my noggin thinking and who've let me bounce ideas off of them. And of course, to Char, my Angel of Beta-ing. Feedback: Don't abandon me now, people!