From lisay@anet-stl.com Mon Nov 11 16:48:11 1996
COPYRIGHT AND PROTECTIONS:  Okay, you all know the score.  The
characters and situations are the creations and property of Chris
Carter, 1013 Productions and the all-mighty Fox Broadcasting, and have
been used without permission.  No copyright infringement intended and no
money shall be made with this piece of fiction.   This work is not to be
forwarded or distributed to any newsgroup, FTP or WWW site without the
permission of the author.

SUMMARY:  After TFWID, both Scully and Mulder find themselves doubting
their own feelings as well as one another's....

AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:  Okay, this is my first piece of fanfiction.  I
didn't have any beta readers, so please be kind--especially with the
grammar (it's my Achilles heel...) but I'd like to hear your comments
and suggestions.  And if you catch some awful grammatical error, please
let me know....

SPOILER:  The Field Where I died -- 4th season

RATING: PG-13.  There's a couple of naughty words, a little sex--but
very mild but you should be aware of this so I don't get myself in
trouble.
Relationship warning:  Yes, this is an MSR--you are warned!
				  

send any comments to: lisay@anet-stl.com.  No flames please. 
Constructive criticism is the foundation of any good writer; insults
aren't.
Part 1/2



				   The Yin to My Yang
				   by Lisa Y. Drexel




Fox Mulder's personal journal	

	It had been two long weeks since Scully and I returned from the
Ephesian case, Melissa/Sarah, and the field where I (and Scully) had
died.
	Two weeks is a very long time not to talk about something that both of
us have been dying to discuss.  I can see the slew of unspoken questions
every time our eyes meet: 'how?' 'why?' 'why us?' and the most
heart-wrenching of all, 'why not me?'???
	And I don't have the answer.  
	Before I met Melissa, if someone would've asked me who my soul mate
was, I would've said Dana Scully.  Before, she was everything to
me-except my lover.  And at that time, that one little concession didn't
matter.  I haven't dated anyone seriously since Scully's abduction, when
I realized that I loved her-so emotionally, she had my heart and soul.
	Despite my feelings, I still managed to dabble in various sexual
liaisons.  My only defense is my video collection can only do so much.
	But most of the time, I managed to keep those dalliances from touching
Scully, because even if she didn't know it--I knew it would hurt her. 
Unfortunately, my fears were realized when she saw my pursuit and sexual
conquest with Dr. Bambi.  I can still see the pain in her eyes.  
	Ironically, it was nothing compared to what I see in her eyes now.
	How was I to know she wasn't my soulmate?  Everything that had happened
to us in the past four years told me we were.  
	And now, I feel betrayed by my soul.
	I can only imagine how Scully feels.
	What can I do to make it better?  What do I say to her?  How do I
reconcile all these feelings that are scattered recklessly through out
my heart?  
	When I saw Melissa for the first time, I felt something fall into
place.  It was an old and ancient part of me--that I had no idea was
even gone until I felt that click and shuffle in my heart and instantly
I knew I was wholer than I once was before.
	I can remember the last time I heard that click.  It was when I met
Dana Scully.  Young, innocent-a believer in an easily defined right and
wrong in the world.  She was fresh, beautiful and intelligent.  
	And I knew all that within five minutes of our first meeting.
	And I hated that instant feeling of trust that swelled into my heart. 
I rebelled.  I gave her an incredibly hard time-constantly trying to
push her away as she doggedly dug her heels in-and look where we are? 
Four long and painful years later, she's my best friend, partner, the
only person I really trust and yet, she feels like a stranger to me at
times.
	Is it because we never crossed that line? 
	Don't get me wrong.  
	I would if I could.
	But I always believed that she wouldn't.
	Or at least that's what I thought before I met Melissa.
	Now I don't know.
	Could it be that one bridge that we haven't crossed yet is the cause of
all the distance I feel?
	I have some thinking to do.  Maybe some reading.  I'm not going to talk
to her until I know or at least until I feel I know what is right.
 	I owe her that much-not to be some blithering idiot when I look into
her eyes and finally verbally acknowledge her pain.
	God, what have I done....?
	

Dana Scully's personal journal

	You would think after everything that's happened to me in the past four
years, I would've started a diary a long time ago-if anything just to
keep my own head on straight.
	But no, it took the Ephesian case for me to do that.  Now, I can't seem
to think about anything else.  
	Two weeks.  It's been two incredibly unbearable weeks and all I see is
the pain in Mulder's eyes as he squats next to Melissa's dead and
poisoned body.  And every time that picture flashes through my mind, I
feel as if something has ripped a piece of my heart away-never to be
seen or felt again.
	I hate her. 
	I hate her for the pain she caused him. 
	And I hate her because she was everything to him that I'll never be.
	God damnit, how could I have fallen in love with him?
	I didn't want to.  I fought it with every fiber of my being--but those
damn feelings just snuck up on me and caught me off guard.  One day, I
was Dr. and Special Agent Dana Scully-partner of Special Agent Fox
Mulder-and the next, I was his secret lover, maybe only in my dreams,
but his lover nonetheless.
	And I used to believe-it was the only thing that kept me sane-that he
loved me as well.  Maybe in a higher, more soulful way-not
consummated-but real just the same.
	And now?
	My one dream is gone.
	The bitch took it and didn't even have the courtesy to stay around and
enjoy it.  
	She left him--to me--to pick up the pieces once again-to put his heart
back together-so he could be whole-and in a roundabout way to leave me
empty.
	God, this is sick.
	Maybe I just need to find out for myself and for him-about soul-mates
and reincarnation.  
	Oh Missy, where are you when I need you? 
	I think I'm going to my mom's tonight and look through Missy's books. 
Maybe I'll find something.

	Dana Scully saved her last journal entry and shut off her laptop.  She
glanced at her watch and yawned quietly.  It was late enough for her to
leave now.  There were no pending cases, just mountains of paperwork
that could wait until after the weekend.
	She glanced over her desk to her partner and saw him judiciously
scribbling in a notebook, his wild dark amoebae tie loosened, his jacket
off and hanging precariously off the back of his chair.  His hazel eyes,
dark and intense.  But she knew from experience, their color could
change as quickly as his moods.  His hair, still slicked back in his
newest hair style (he finally won the battle of the stubborn hair lock,
she thought to herself)-was a little mussed from his fingers that
haphazardly ran through it when he was thinking.
	God, he was gorgeous.
	"Mulder?"
	He wrote a little more and glanced up-their eyes' meeting.
	Her stomach flipped.
	"Yeah Scully?"
	"I'm leaving."
	"Already?" he asked, his mouth turning in a mischief grin.
	"Mulder it's six o'clock," she said, ignoring the jump of her heart she
always got when he teased her.  She stood up and packed her laptop,
grabbed her purse and swung her coat over her shoulder.  She looked back
over at him and noticed that he had been watching her.  
	*Probably wondering how good of a father I was to him* she thought
sarcastically, dismissing the tinge of hope that tried to exclaim with
glee that he still liked to watch her...
	"I'll see you Monday, Scully.  Have a good weekend."
	She smiled back.  "You too, Mulder.  You too."
	And she left.

	Fox Mulder watched his partner leave, and felt that same emptiness he
always did when she wasn't around.
	And then he was totally confused.
	How could he feel this way?  And why did he feel this way?
	He glanced back down at the spiral notebook in front of him sighed. 
Yes, it was time to do some research.
	He closed the notebook and grabbed a couple of files he had been
skimming on past lives and stuffed them into his briefcase.  
	As he stood up and walked past his partner's desk, that ache he had
felt earlier returned twofold.  Absently running his hands across its
clean top, he sighed.  He needed answers.  First the bookstore, then the
take-out Chinese place and then home where hopefully he could find what
he was looking for.


	Three hours and two books later, Dana Scully sighed as she rubbed her
temples.  Her head was pounding.  No doubt attributed to her choice in
reading material, she thought dejectedly.
	And to top the wonderful day off, she felt no better than she did prior
to her journey into the metaphysical realms of spirituality.
	In other words, everything she had read left her with just as many
questions as she had before.  The whole concept of soul-mates left her
dizzy.
	Everyone had a theory.  
	And none of them seemed to jive with the other.
	Some believe that soul-mates were the other half of a person's
soul-lost at the Garden of Eden with the Fall of Man-when God viciously
ripped the souls in half and cursed them to live many lives over to find
one another.
	Others believed soul-mates were two souls-so interconnected through
lifetimes-that they always seem to reappear in one another's life-to
help the other (in karmic terms)--to love the other.  
	She liked the second definition better-it rationalized her feelings and
justified to her why they could love one another.  
	But that still didn't explain Melissa.
	Maybe it wasn't her place to explain away Melissa.  Maybe that's what
Mulder had to do. 
	Dana had no idea.
	But somehow, she knew she had to reconcile her feelings about the whole
situation or eventually their partnership and friendship would suffer.
	"Damnit," she cursed as she grabbed a book out of the box.  She flung
it across the room.
	The depression she had been fighting all day seemed to sink into her
bones as she closed her eyes.  As she fell down into the soft comfort of
her couch, she felt her chest tighten and her eyes fill with water.  The
tears were slow in coming, but once they started she didn't stop until
she fell asleep.

*end of part 1 of 2


From lisay@anet-stl.com Mon Nov 11 16:48:19 1996
COPYRIGHT AND PROTECTIONS:  Okay, you all know the score.  The
characters and situations are the creations and property of Chris
Carter, 1013 Productions and the all-mighty Fox Broadcasting, and have
been used without permission.  No copyright infringement intended and no
money shall be made with this piece of fiction.   This work is not to be
forwarded or distributed to any newsgroup, FTP or WWW site without the
permission of the author.

SUMMARY:  After TFWID, both Scully and Mulder find themselves doubting
their own feelings as well as one another's....

AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:  Okay, this is my first piece of fanfiction.  I
didn't have any beta readers, so please be kind--especially with the
grammar (it's my Achilles heel...)but I'd like to hear your comments and
suggestions.  And if you catch some awful grammatical error, please let
me know....

SPOILER:  The Field Where I died -- 4th season
RATING: PG13.  There's a couple of naughty words, a little sex--but very
mild but you should be aware of this so I don't get myself in trouble.
Relationship warning:  Yes, this is an MSR--you are warned!
				  

send any comments to: lisay@anet-stl.com.  No flames please. 
Constructive criticism is the foundation of any good writer; insults
aren't.

Part 2/2



				   The Yin to My Yang
				   by Lisa Y. Drexel



	Once Mulder pulled into the mall parking lot, he realized this was not
where he needed to be.  He needed to talk to someone-someone who would
understand-who would help him see what needed to be seen.
	Shifting through his eidetic memory, he found the number he was looking
for and dialed it.
	"Hello?"
	"Shannon?"
	"Yes," she answered slowly.  "Mulder?"
	"Yep, right again.  How are you doing?"
	"Fine," she said, her voice sounding distressed.  "Better than you are,
from the sound of it."
	He chuckled softly.  "Are you busy tonight?"
	"Nope-the latest jackass on my list of lousy lovers decided that a
night out with the 'guys' was more appealing than me," she said.  "Same
story-different man."
	"You'll get it right one of these times,"  Mulder paused.  "You'd think
with that psychic power and all-you could choose a decent man."
	"Well, Mulder, my dear old man, we all have the forces of karmic
retribution to contend with, don't we?"
	He laughed out loud, feeling how true that was.  "How 'bout some pizza
so I can pick your brain?"
	"Sure.  When?"
	"I'm about an half hour from your place."
	"All right, I'll see you then."
	Mulder closed his phone and for the first time since he stepped off the
plane in Tennessee, he felt as if he was on the right track.
	An hour later they sat across from each other at a pizza pallor not far
from where she lived.  As he leaned back against the hard wood back of
the booth, he wondered why he waited this long to talk to her.  Shannon
McMillian was one of the few people he had known that he could call a
friend.  Like Clyde Bruckman, she was nothing like had imagined a
psychic to be.  Shannon was pretty, with a rosy complexion, and long,
wavy reddish blond hair that seemed to be both wild and sedate at the
same time.  In other words, she was a normal, attractive woman in her
thirties.  She could either be the consummate professional or the
fun-loving woman that was sitting across from him. 
	And most importantly, they liked each other.
	When Mulder was assigned to VCS, she was one of the few people he had
worked with that not only understood and accepted her eccentrics but
genuinely seemed to care about him.  It might've had something to do
with the fact that she was a consultant and not an agent--so she didn't
carry with her all the prejudices and misunderstandings that the FBI
rumor mill seemed to bring.  Or it could've been that Shannon was even
'spookier' than Fox 'Spooky' Mulder himself.
	Either way, it was fine with him.  He got a friend out of the deal.
	But she wasn't so lucky.  Every time she helped the VCS, she would fall
into a deep depression that only time and peace seemed to heal.  Like
Mulder, Shannon had the uncanny knack for getting into the killer's mind
and visualizing the crime scenes as they happened.  Unfortunately for
her, being psychic only seemed to strengthen the emotional and
psychological bond she felt for the victims.  Where Mulder would find
himself empathizing with serial killers, Shannon would relive each
murder over and over again--always feeling the horror and pain of the
victim.
	The effect was nothing short of devastating.  It was no wonder she quit
all contacts with the FBI.  Her sanity and peace of mind wasn't worth
it.
	Now she spent her time practicing her chosen profession:  psychology
and giving psychic readings on her off hours.  She seemed happier now
and her choice seemed to agree with her.
	Although they had a lot in common, there had never been any attraction
between the two-just a strong sense of friendship based on a trust that
Mulder couldn't name even if he tried.
	He looked up at her smiled sheepishly.  "I don't know how to begin," he
said as he sipped his beer.  
	She cocked her head as if saying, 'Just say it, Mulder.'
	"Do you believe in reincarnation?" he finally asked.
	"Yes,"  she answered as she sipped her own beer.  "Why? What happened?"
	He took a deep breath and began fiddling with the cork-like coaster
sporting a Bud Light logo.  "I think I met my soulmate and she wasn't
who I thought she was..."
	"And?"
	"And she died within a day of me meeting her."
	"And this other person?  Who do you think your soul-mate was before you
met this other woman?"
	His heart picked up speed as he felt a rush of blood fill his ears. 
*She wants me to say this out loud,* he inwardly moaned.  
	For some reason that terrified him. It was as if his love for Scully,
while it remained unspoken, could still be questioned and analyzed...and
never pursued.  Once spoken, he felt as if he had no other choice but to
follow through with his feelings.  To make it real.  To tell her and to
commit.
	He ran his hand through his hair and said nothing.
	"Mulder?"
	He shook his head and chuckled.  "Yeah Shannon?"
	She sipped her beer thoughtfully.  "How about I say it?" she asked,
sensing his reluctance.
	He shrugged, attempting nonchalance.
	"It's your partner, isn't it?"
	He shifted uncomfortably.  *Damn, these booths are hard on the body.*
	"Well?"
	He swallowed hard and nodded.  "Yeah," he finally admitted after a
couple of minutes.  "And I think her heart's breaking," he added so
softly he wondered if she heard him.  Suddenly, he could see a hundred
different images of Scully from the last two weeks flash through his
mind.  Each one showed her in pain.  Her heart wasn't the only one that
was breaking, he thought.
	Shannon reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly.  "Oh Mulder, only
you.  Tell me the whole story."
	He did.  As he began, he felt his mood lighten as the weight of his
secrets dissipated.  He only stopped when the pizza arrived to take a
bite, the whole time watching Shannon's face-to see if it would betray
what she was thinking.
	After he finished, she nodded and sat back, sipping her second beer. 
Mulder, knowing that she needed to sift through everything he said, gave
her the peace she needed and started eating his portion of the lukewarm
pizza in front of him.  He wasn't terrible hungry at this point, but he
could feel a headache coming from the background that was warning him of
his low blood sugar. 
	After he ate the last piece, he looked up at her expectantly.  "Well?"
he asked.
	"You know there many different types of soul-mates.  What you could've
been feeling with Melissa/Sarah was the unfinished business-the past
pain-of both lifetimes-and a need to go beyond that.  Not that you'll
get that opportunity in this lifetime-but it'll happen-because that's
karma for you."
	"What about Scully?"
	She shook her head and smiled at him.  "I think you know the answer
yourself."
	He bit his bottom lip and said nothing.
	"Follow your heart, Mulder.  Not your head.  This isn't like you," she
said, her voice sounding exasperated.
	"That's Scully's influence for you," he quipped.
	"You've got to listen to your gut on this.  How do you feel about her?"
	He found himself smiling remembering a quote he read somewhere.  "She's
the yin to my yang."
	"That sounds like a soulmate to me.  Are you in love with her?"
	He nodded.
	"Does she know that?"
	He shook his head.  "I never told her.  Hell, no one knows.  You're the
first person I've told."  He frowned.  "We've never crossed that line
between friends and lovers.  But she's had my heart and my soul for a
long time."
	"Why haven't you?  Rules, Mulder?  I find that hard to believe."
	He shrugged.
	"Because you're partners?  Is that why you aren't lovers?"
	He chuckled as he shook his head.  "It's so crazy.  I think I'm
afraid.  I know she is.  Dana Scully likes to be in control and I can't
say that I'm too far removed from that position myself.  Especially when
it comes to love.  All I have to do is remember Phoebe Greene and I
shudder instinctively.  I don't have a good track record.  And I can't
afford to lose her.  She means to much to me."
	"But this is causing problems between you two, isn't it?  That's why
you called me?"
	He nodded.
	"Well, Mulder, I think the time has passed where fear should rule your
actions."  She laughed.  "I can't believe it, a man who faces shadow
governments, EBE's, ghosts, mutants and whatnots is afraid of one
woman?"
	He nodded sheepishly.
	"That's a helluva lot of fear, G-man.  Think about the damage that kind
of fear can do to you.  Could that have anything to do with why you got
so wrapped up in Sarah Kavanaugh and Sullivan Biddle?" She leaned over
the table and looked him straight in the eyes.  Her dark gray eyes
unnerved him.  He looked away but not before she grabbed his hand. 
"Mulder! Look at me!"
	He reluctantly faced those eyes of truth and shuddered despite
himself.  He sighed heavily.  "I was so afraid of Scully, that I allowed
my fear to latch on to something--anything other than her and in the
process, once again pushing her away.  All of this was because I didn't
want to deal with my feelings for Scully?" he asked, his voice nearly
squeaking in his admission.
	"Bingo-give the man a prize!" She laughed, shaking her head.  "You've
got some shit you need to deal with.  I think Scully's the soulmate-and
if not-she is at least during this lifetime.  Soul-mates aren't just
this glamorous, ultra-spiritual vindication of romantic love-it's about
people who are everything to one another.  Friends, lovers, partners,
companions, mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers.  It's when a soul,
despite the personality of the present lifetime, loves the other
unconditionally and fully without pretenses.
	"From what I feel from you, Dana Scully does that for you."  
	Shannon looked up from her beer and Mulder nodded.
	"And I can see you do for her," she added, finishing the last of her
drink.  
	Mulder sighed and downed the last half of his beer and suddenly knew he
had to see Dana tonight.  Two weeks was long enough.  He fished out the
money for the tab and left it on the table.
	"Ready?"  he asked.  "I don't want your sorry excuse for a lover to
think I spirited you off somewhere," he said smiling as he slipped out
of the booth.
	Shannon followed him and slipped her arm through his.  "Take me home,
G-man, to my lover!"
	He shook his head, laughing quietly as they left the restaurant.

	She wasn't sure what woke her.  One moment, she was dreaming, at her
special place, on a hilltop, looking over a valley and a lake, talking
to her sister and the next, she was looking into Mulder's eyes.
	"Hey, sleepy head," he greeted quietly, whispering in her ear, as he
sat down beside the couch, facing her.
	"Mulder...?"
	"Yep, that's me."
	"What," she yawned, "are you doing here?" she whispered as she tried to
sit up, instinctively trying to put some distance between them.
	Mulder had different ideas.  She felt his warm hand on her shoulder,
holding  her back.   "We need to talk."
	It was then she noticed he had the two books she had been reading
earlier on his lap.  
	"Mulder?" her fear pushed her voice higher.  God, don't let him break
my heart even more, she silently prayed.  She turned to look at him and
their eyes met.
	She couldn't trust herself enough to know what he was saying through
those incredibly expressive eyes.  She wanted to believe she saw love,
caring, desire-but she didn't know for sure.
	Lately, she didn't know anything for sure when it came to her partner.
	His hand moved to her neck, his fingers gently caressing her skin.  The
chill she felt traveled all the way down her spine, to her center.  She
took a breath, inhaling the scent of him-the muskiness she called
Mulderscent deliciously mixed in with pizza and beer and the
ever-present sunflower seeds.  God, she hated when he got so close to
him and she couldn't do anything.  Every ounce of common sense said run!
	Yet she didn't move.
	"Mulder..?" she asked again, still feeling drowsy and tired and lost. 
Maybe this was another dream...
	He other hand reached for hers, gently grasping her palm, rubbing his
thumb across it, as if he was playing a love sonnet.
	She shivered, feeling her nipples tighten and standup underneath the
oversized tee-shirt she was in.  She vaguely realized that other than
her underwear, the shirt was the only thing she had to separate herself
from Mulder...
	"I saw a friend of mine tonight," he said, interrupting her thoughts.
His voice so quiet, so low and husky, that it touched the most intimate
parts of herself.  "We talked about reincarnation, Melissa and you--," 
His hand on her neck moved to her throat and began slow dance downwards
to her collarbone, mesmerizing her, "--and I realized something
tonight.  This whole time, I've been running.  Running from the one
thing that I sought the most--" his hand touched her breast, making her
gasp out loud, and it stopped on her nipple as his fingers gently
flicked  and twirled it.  She felt her body flush with heat as his other
hand left hers and cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes.
	She now knew it had been desire she saw before, because his eyes seemed
to reflect what she felt.
	"Mulder?"
	He moved even closer to her.  Their lips just inches apart.  "I'm so
afraid," he said as his other hand moved to her face as well, his thumbs
lightly caressing her cheeks.
	She turned to her side to get closer to him, her eyes never leaving
his.  She wrapped her arms around his neck.  His arms lightly brushed
her breasts.  She pressed herself even closer to him.
	"Me too," she whispered, knowing her doubts were flying across her
face.  How could he love me?  I'm not tall.  I'm not a brunette.  I'm
not a bimbo.  I'm not needy.  I'm the Ice Queen...
	I'm not Melissa...
	She didn't even realize she was crying until he began kissing away the
tears that had begun to run freely down her face.
	Then his lips brushed against hers.
	She moaned.
	And then those wonderfully expressive lips touching her again.  Still
lightly caressing her lips, gently coaxing her to open her mouth, but
patiently waiting until she was ready.
	She responded with passion, nipping delicately at his bottom lip,
running her tongue along his lips.  His tongue darted to meet hers and
suddenly the two were lost in one another.
	She felt herself falling into him and vaguely realized that he had
managed to move up onto the couch with her, his long body covering
hers.  Her whole body sang with desire.  She wanted him totally and
completely.
	She opened her eyes and saw his were open as well, clouded with desire
but seeking hers for confirmation.
	Is this how you feel, Dana? She could almost hear him asking.
	He lifted his head, breaking the kiss.  He pulled away enough to look
at her.   "I realized tonight-probably a lot earlier if I had been
honest with myself-that you're my soulmate.
	"I love you, Dana Scully and I want to be with you tonight--and every
night, if you'll have me."
	The tears came back and suddenly she was laughing and crying at the
same time.  Oh, but the joy, she thought fleetingly, the joy.  Wrapping
her arms around his neck as tightly as she could, she leaned close to
his ear.
	"I love you, Fox Mulder.  Please stay," she whispered.
	He laughed as well as he stood up and took her hand.  Once she was
upright, he pulled her tightly in her arms, pressing his hard body
against hers.  He gently kissed her and led her into her bedroom.


Fox Mulder's journal
	
	Somehow now, all those demons that had been haunting me since the
Ephesian case have disappeared.  I'd like to say it was my brilliant
psychologist's mind that forced me to look at my heart and myself, but
I'd be lying.  No, the credit goes to Shannon-who laid out the facts and
realities for me to look at and dissect.  And to Melissa, who
inadvertently--just by dropping into my life--brought me back home,
where I needed to be.  But most of all, it was Scully.
	Just by her being who she is, my friend, companion, partner, lover and
yes, even soulmate, for taking care of me and keeping me on track and by
loving me and making it possible for me to love her.
	I don't know how we'll pull this off.  Scully just left to go home and
fix dinner.  I'm to follow her but first I wanted to write all of this
down.  For two days, these thoughts have been twirling around, dying to
be articulated.
	Remember that ache that I used to feel when we were apart?  Well, it
isn't as strong as it once was.  I think it's our bond-whether it's
psychological, physical or spiritual-I don't know-but before Friday
night, I think my insecurities somehow stressed it--turning it into
something painful rather than enjoyable.  Even though some of those
fears will always be there, at least now I know I found her.  And that
we've had this time together.
	For the first time since Samantha's disappearance, I feel peaceful.  A
part of me wants to feel guilty for feeling so good, but I can't seem
manage it.  Instead my usual mantra 'I'm not worthy.  I'm not worthy'
playing in my head, I hear 'Hot damn!  Can you believe it?'
	It's a welcome change, I have to admit
	So, as long as we can keep this under wraps-we'll keep the X-Files. 
When we can't-we'll figure something out.  One thing I know, with us
together, nothing can stop us. 
	

Dana Scully's journal

	I don't believe we waited four years to do this.  What in God's name
were we thinking? 
	I was right, you know.  He was the one that had to figure out where
Melissa fit into all this.  And he did.  He came over Friday night and
found me asleep on the couch.  And that's where he told me he loved me.
	A part of me-you know that high school girlish part that every woman
has but fervently denies--well that part of me want to enshrine my
couch--with a big billboard sticking up beside it reading "This is the
place!!!  This is where he told me I was his soulmate and that he loved
me..."
	It's as if I came home-but I never even knew before what home was. 
It's weird.  Suddenly all those questions have disappeared.  Oh, I know
it won't be an easy ride.  This is Fox Mulder we're talking about.  No
one gets me as angry as he does.  But regardless, I feel complete.
	I know, despite all the obstacles and heartaches that we'll endure
because of us, despite us and as well as in spite of us--we'll survive. 
We'll figure out what to do about the bureau-our jobs-justice-and the
truth-but we'll do it together as true partners should.
	Well, I hear him knocking on the door.  I gotta go!

	
				 	*The End*

			That's it folks!  end of part 2 of 2