From: Gimme5B@aol.com
Date: Wed, 19 Apr 2000 14:14:45 EDT
Subject: fanfic (isn't that what this email address is for?)
Source: direct


Shining Light

Rating: G
Category: MSR
Disclaimer: I do not own Mulder and Scully, or their actions. Yada, 
yada, yada, you all know it. They belong to CC, 1013, and FOX.  Don't 
sue me.
Author's Notes:  I want to thank Callie for getting me into fanfic; 
she's a wonderful friend.  I also want to say that the song "The Dance" 
written by Garth Brooks inspired this.  It speaks of dancing beneath 
the stars.
All feedback is welcome; you can email me at Gimme5B@aol.com

Shining Light


I don't know why I chose then to ask her, it just seemed like the right 
thing to do at the time.  I asked her if she would go do something with 
me, as more than a friend or partner.  She was confused at the 
indirectness of the question, and I tried again.  A different way of 
saying "will you go out with me?" was hard to come up with.  I'd 
thought about this moment so many times, but now, now that my chance 
had finally come, I was stumped as to what to say to the beautiful 
woman standing in front of me.  So I just said it, what I'd always 
called the "high school" way of asking a girl out.  Simply saying, 
"will you go out with me?"

Her following actions were just as I'd expected, what I'd realized were 
the only actions I could expect her to make, seeing as we had always 
been best of friends, and never anything more.

She looked at me with those big blue eyes, my soul swimming through 
them as I focused on her response.  The look on her face was a look I 
could only interpret as "are you serious?" I was.  I was dead serious 
and had never been more certain about anything in my life.

"Mulder, I."

I interrupted her before she could say anything damaging to my hope and 
pride at the moment.  "Scully, I don't know what to tell you, except to 
give it a chance.  I have this idea in my head.  My mind is telling me 
'your crazy, Spooky', while my conscience and heart are telling me 
otherwise.please Scully, if you don't give me an 'affirmative' on this, 
I, well, I think you'll be missing out on a special evening, one that 
most people only dream of.  And I, I will be sad that you turned this 
down, I've imagined this in my head, and I only hope that it will fall 
into place with reality."

It was so easy to make her cry, not in pain, but tears of joy.  I could 
see them coming, slowly, then running in little streams down the fair 
skin of her cheeks.  I took out my handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.  
Moments of silence kept me in suspense, waiting, like a cat eager to 
receive a treat.

Her arms wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me into an 
embrace, still crying ever so softly.  "Okay" she whispered, into the 
shoulder of my shirt where she had wept tears many times before.  
"Okay".

I was overwhelmed with joy, I felt like a kid that just received every 
present anyone could ever give him, received in a time period of about 
three seconds.  I didn't know how to express to her that she'd just 
changed my very existence with a simple "Okay".  But I didn't need to 
show her, because deep down, between some unknown connection of hearts, 
she knew.  And I knew that the soft rain falling from the blue sky of 
her eyes was good rain, happy rain.  We had no reason to communicate 
through speech when we knew each other so well, front to back.  I 
squeezed her tighter, signaling she had chosen the right answer.  She 
seemed to understand.

I picked her up, on a warm, summer day, late in the afternoon.  She 
emerged from her apartment looking incredibly beautiful, a dark blue 
dress with swirls of a lighter blue falling to her ankles.  It was a 
comfortable dress, just as I'd suggested.  I wanted her to feel 
peaceful during the evening ahead of us.  Her auburn hair was soft, 
pulled into an eloquent, yet subtle butterfly clip.  I was stunned; she 
looked comparably different to the straight-laced Dana Scully I knew as 
my partner.

It seemed to take an eternity to get where we were going.  Engaging in 
small talk helped ease the discomfort of being with each other for the 
first time as more than best friends.  At one point, she asked where 
exactly we were going, why we were winding through rolling hills, away 
from civilization.  I simply replied, "heaven".  I got the feeling she 
didn't know what to say to that, and that if she inquired any deeper, 
she would be sorry she'd asked in the first place, ruining her 
surprise.

We finally came to a stop at the very top of a mountain, a mountain I'd 
been to once before, a very long time ago.  I had prayed all the way I 
wouldn't get us lost, seeing as there was no one within two miles of 
Scully and myself.  When I told her it was heaven, I meant it. When I 
had been there before, I thought just that. This was a mountain where 
you could lay your eyes on the horizon, and see for miles ahead of you 
in every direction.  The sun had barely begun to set, casting a 
wondrous, golden light on her face and hair.  I thought to myself, "I'm 
in the presence of an angel, and I'm the one taking her to heaven".

She got out of the car to stare at the spectacular landscape set before 
her, while I got out the picnic basket.

We ate, laughed, drank good wine, talked about things that were not 
work related, and even discussed our lives before the X-Files.  All the 
while I found myself falling deeper in love with this person I am only 
now beginning to understand.  The sun set behind us, and the humid air 
of early summer became crisp, and cool, but still contained a certain 
warmth that would not fade until fall.

Scully commented twice during our dinner picnic how beautiful it was, 
and that I was right, if she hadn't agreed to come, she would have 
missed out on an evening spent like a scene from a movie.  Where 
nothing goes wrong, and it all becomes so clear.  How after one night, 
one special night, you feel rejuvenated, ready for anything.

Darkness fell upon us, and one by one the glistening stars above began 
to show themselves.  I looked over at her, and saw her making a wish on 
the first star she saw that night.  I wondered what she had wished, 
what she'd desired that could be so important as to place it on a star.  
I decided it was time to engage in what was to be the best part of the 
evening.  The dance.

I began to pick up the plates and glasses and put them back in the car.  
I then brought out a small lantern, realizing it would get much darker, 
and a CD player that would hook into the cigarette lighter.  The only 
light that shone came from the half moon above our heads, the stars, 
and now a small lantern placed on the grass several feet away from us.

The CD player was turned on, and the jazz CD I'd so carefully selected 
strummed its first note.  I held my hand out to her, not to help her, 
as in previous instances, but to reach out to her, and in one very 
small way, tell her I love her.

My large hand engulfed hers, and I pulled her to me.  We took our first 
step together, and started the dance as though our whole lives had been 
building to this moment, that nothing else mattered anymore.  It was so 
perfect. It was one of those times you were sure you were dreaming, but 
afraid to pinch yourself, in case you were, and the moment would end.  
Our hearts and minds had become one as we danced beneath the shimmering 
stars above.  Scully and I.  Dancing like there would never be an end, 
and realizing there never had to be.  I was convinced as we moved, step 
by step, that we were shining a light on the moon and stars, just as 
they were on us, taking our souls to new depths and discovering the 
love we both knew could never die.