From: waterfall Date: Fri, 11 May 2001 15:07:22 -0400 Subject: NEW: Somewhere A Place (1/1) Source: atxc OK TO LIST AT EPHEMERAL & GOSSAMER TITLE: Somewhere A Place AUTHOR: waterfall EMAIL: waterfallingbc@yahoo.com FEEDBACK: is always appreciated FIC: V RATING: G SPOILERS: Within (US8) SUMMARY: What if the rumors were true? Author's notes follow story. It is the first thing that she sees when she awakens in the morning and the last thing that she sees before she closes her eyes at night. It rests against the lamp on the night stand; it is propped up next to the sugar bowl on the dinette table of the sublet. She carries it with her when she leaves the apartment and takes it out on occasion as she sits in view of the real thing. A four-by-six rectangle of paper and color and hope that brings her to this place and continues to anchor her, a remembrance that refuses to allow her to give up in her search for Mulder. Grimy fingerprints now cover the postcard. She tries to handle it more carefully, but the passing weeks have not been kind to her possession. Its promise of resolution has not presented itself, frustrating her at times, and yet she continues to sit and wait at this exact spot. She understands its intent, its purpose, and she can not abandon her vigil. For he gives her his trust, and she can not forsake him. ====== ====== She first notices it upon her return to the basement office after checking out of the hospital, after being told that she is pregnant and that Mulder is missing. It is positioned in such a way on the wall that she now believes must be deliberate in nature. It is a picture of a body of water, with a bit of a sandy beach and a ship approaching from the horizon. There are no buildings, though off to one side, there is a hint of a body of land. She walks around the desk, removes the pushpin holding the picture to the bulletin board and turns it over. A simple hand-printed sentence greets her: There's a place for us, somewhere a place for us. She wonders why someone would send Mulder a postcard with a Broadway musical reference, but there is no signature and no return address. No mailing address or postmark for that matter, for it was never mailed. It is as if someone picked out a postcard, wrote that one line upon it, and it somehow ended up on their office wall. She returns the postcard to its original position, but something about it gnaws at her for the rest of the day, causes her to keep looking back over her shoulder at it. There is something not quite right about what she is seeing, and then it eventually comes to her. It was not there a week ago, of that she is certain. She tries to remember what the office looked like before. Before she left for Oregon. Before *Mulder* left for Oregon that last time. Panic sets in as she again removes the photo from its place on the wall. Where did this come from, she asks herself. Could this be a clue as to where Mulder has disappeared? And if it is a clue, then who . . . She carefully places it inside an evidence bag and takes it to the only men she can trust at that moment to give her the answers. "We were able to blow up the area around the tanker. We got lucky in that we could read the markings on the ship." "It's the Buckhorn, whose home port just happens to be in Juneau, Alaska. Since we don't really know when this photo was taken, we can't be positive about the ports of call." "We do know, however, that from the years 1994 to 1999, it made a regular run from Juneau to San Diego and back. At least every other month. It also made one stop each way. Vancouver, British Columbia." The Gunmen have always had this way of tag-team conversation, she notes, from Frohike to Langly to Byers. It is as if they share a body of knowledge that each can only impart a fraction at a time. It reminds her of the movie about those supernatural children who can read each other's thoughts, whose mothers were impregnated by beings from outer space. Somehow, she muses, when dealing with Mulder, it always comes back to aliens. Byers interrupts her thoughts. "See this stone fragment running across the bottom of the photo. It's actually part of a seawall." He outlines the segment for her, and her hopes are raised. "Oh, please tell me that you know where this was taken." "We do. In Vancouver. It's from an area in Stanley Park that looks out onto English Bay." She quickly calculates an itinerary and flight time while holding her hand out for the postcard. "Thanks, guys. I owe you one." "Scully, there's more." Byers pauses, perhaps silently consulting with his partners before continuing. "This is no ordinary postcard. It's not even a real postcard. It's a picture that has been affixed *on top* of a postcard. See, you can tell by the punchhole that there is something else underneath. Now, we can probably separate the two, but there is no guarantee that we won't destroy the actual postcard in the process." "Not to mention the photo." Langly finishes the sentence. She is curious and tempted for them to work their magic for it might provide further clues, but she is anxious to follow the lead that they have just given her. "No, that won't be necessary." Frohike catches her elbow before she can turn to leave. His eyes flash worry, and she begins to have that sinking feeling in her chest, like someone is pressing on it. "There is still something else, Scully. The handwriting. Do you know whose it is?" "No." She is embarrassed to tell them that she never gave the actual handwriting much thought - though she had her suspicions - only paying attention to the message. "We decided to play around with it. Got a couple of sets of fingerprints off the card - yours and Mulder's. So we did some comparisons." The increasing pressure on her chest makes it difficult for her to speak above a whisper. "Oh, my god. The handwriting is Mulder's." "Yes, it is, and it's been done recently. What does this mean, Scully?" She grabs the postcard and walks out without answering. She imagines that they are still scratching their heads to this day over what they have uncovered. Although they are smart boys and will figure out the implications with time, she has the advantage of knowing the suspicions of the Bureau. That for reasons she does not yet understand and can not comprehend, Mulder may have faked his disappearance. And if he has left this clue for her to find, then she alone must be the one to pursue it. ====== ====== Again, she removes the postcard from her coat pocket and touches the picture. The connection comforts her, for she knows in her heart that it was the last thing that Mulder left for her. As if by touching it, he was holding her hand and taking her to this very spot in Stanley Park that she now haunts daily. The cries of the birds overhead interrupt her thoughts of Mulder, and she looks out upon the sea in front of her. A ship, a tanker, now comes closer into view, almost duplicating the scene on the postcard. She feels him close to her with this familiarity - the circling wind like his arms embracing her, the sound of the lapping water acting as his whispers of forgiveness for his initial deception. She tells herself that she will forgive him if he would only make himself known to her. Explanations may come later, but for now, she only wants to know that he is safe. And so she returns daily to this bench near the water, to wait for him as the notation suggests. She rehearses how she will tell him of her pregnancy and, if he should ask her to stay, how they could have a new start on life here. In somewhere a place. ========================================= This is an entry in Pollyanna's "Undercover" Theme Lyric Wheel. The set of lyrics that I received were "Somewhere" by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim from the musical "West Side Story" and was sent by Pollyanna. Further inspiration was derived from a song called "Wish You Were Here" performed by Mark Wills and by a photograph taken on a recent trip to Vancouver.