Title: Emergence Author: Susan E-mail: susanf@ticnet.com or filesfan34@yahoo.com Classification: SRA Keywords: MSR, angst Spoilers: This story takes place in late February after the events of SUZ and Closure. References to Beyond the Sea, Anasazi, Demons, and All Souls. Archive: Gossamer. Anywhere else, please ask first. Disclaimer: These characters belong to each other, not me. Author's notes: At the end of Sein Und Zeit, Mulder told Scully and Skinner that he would like to take some time off. Well, he didn't get to do it then, but after what he experienced with his sister in Closure, I felt that he would need some time to sort out his feelings not only about Samantha, but also about his mother's death...and Scully. This story is dedicated to all those people out there who have been faithful readers of my work for the past three years, but especially to Alyssa, Pat, and Lenore, whose enthusiasm for this story helped me more than I can say. More notes at the end. Summary: Mulder goes to Quonochontaug to sort out his life after the events of Sein Und Zeit and Closure. ************************************************************* Emergence by Susan ~~~~~~ Quonochontaug, Rhode Island 8:55 a.m. Mulder closed his eyes and wiggled his feet, savoring the feel of the cold sand between his toes. He knew he shouldn't be going barefoot in the middle of February, just as he knew he shouldn't be standing there without a coat on, but right now, he wanted to feel. He wanted to feel the rough sand rubbing against his skin. He wanted to feel the bitter ocean wind slicing through every bone in his body. He wanted to hear the waves crashing up against the rocks and rushing up onto the shore. He wanted to taste the mist blowing across his face, smell the faint aroma of dead fish, touch the pieces of old driftwood that were scattered all over the beach. He wanted to feel it all, to experience it in a way that he hadn't been able to since he was a boy. To finally let the past slip off his shoulders and out into the ocean... And so he came here this morning. Called Skinner and told him he was taking some time off. Called Scully and told her the same, then packed a few things, jumped into his car and just started driving. He didn't pack much, a few clothes and toiletries, a couple of books, a small bag of groceries, the diary... Her diary. Upon reading it the first time, he thought he'd never want to read Samantha's painful words again, and he hadn't since that night in the diner with Scully, and yet he wanted it with him on this trip. Perhaps he'd sit on the bed in the bedroom that used to be hers and read it again. Or maybe he'd put it on the shelf with all of her other books and leave it there. Then again, maybe he'd just toss it into the ocean. ~~~~ Hoover Building Basement Office 9:06 a.m. Scully opened the door to their office, then walked inside. On any other day, Mulder would've already been there, his nose most likely buried in a case file, but this morning, the room was empty. She knew he wouldn't be coming in today, but that didn't make it any easier for her to step inside the quiet room. Without him there, the office just didn't feel right. And neither did she. As much as she knew that he needed some time to think about everything that had happened to him over the last week, she found herself missing him with an intensity that frightened her. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye to him this morning. She had been in the shower when he left the message on her machine, and upon listening to it, had immediately tried to call him back. Not getting a response from either of his phones, she quickly got dressed and drove to his apartment, only to find that he had already left. Checking his computer for any other message he might have left her, she hadn't come across anything, but when she had gone into his bedroom, she found the following note propped up against the lamp on his nightstand: Scully, I know that you're worried about me, but don't be. I just need to get away for awhile and sort some things out, and the best place for me to do that is in Quonochontaug. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but when I get back, I'm sure I'll have a lot to tell you. Mulder She had read the note three more times before stuffing it into her jacket pocket and then once again after getting inside her car. "When I get back, I'm sure I'll have a lot to tell you." The words had played continuously in her head as she drove to the office, and as much as she tried to think about other things, they were on her mind now. What would he tell her? That he's finally at peace about what happened to Samantha and to his mother, that after more than twenty years, he's finally ready to let go of all his guilt and move forward with his life? She hoped so. Picking up the framed photo of Samantha that was sitting on his desk, she gently ran her fingers over the glass. And she cried. ~~~~ It had been two days since he buried his mother. There were just a handful of people at the funeral and burial. Some of them he recognized, most he didn't. No one said much to him that day, but that was all right with him. He didn't feel like talking either. As he had watched them lower her casket into the ground, he couldn't help thinking about how he had missed his father's funeral, how Scully had gone in his place... He always regretted not being there that day, not getting the chance to say a final goodbye, not getting the chance to tell his father that he really did love him. Not getting the chance to truly let go of all the guilt he felt about his death. And he did feel guilty. Of not trying hard enough, of not being good enough, of not taking the time to really work on building their relationship into what it should've been. He was guilty of it all, just as he was guilty of shutting his mother out. It was true that his relationship with her was better than the one he had with his dad, but not by much. They didn't spend much time together or even talk on the phone regularly, but at least they had a kind of understanding with each other...a bond that only a mother and son could have. If only he had tried harder to strengthen that bond. Maybe then she would've confided in him about her illness, maybe then she would've told him that she was too tired to fight it anymore, maybe then she would've finally told him what *really* happened the night Samantha was taken... But now, now she was gone, just like his father and his sister. And it was only him. Mulder. ~~~~ Sitting down at his desk, she pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and pressed the #1 on her speed dial. She wasn't really expecting him to answer or to even have his phone turned on, and yet she had been dialing him every fifteen minutes for the past two hours. He had left her a note telling her not to worry about him, but that was about as useless as telling her not to breathe. Worrying about him was a part of her now. She let the phone ring six times before finally hanging up, then looked down at her watch. It was almost 11:30, and she hadn't completed even one page of paperwork. Gathering up a stack of files to work on at home, she took one more look at the picture of Samantha, then headed out the door. ~~~~ Standing out in the cold in bare feet and without a jacket had left him numb. But it was a good kind of numb. He had stood on the deserted beach and thought of his parents and how he wished things had been different between them. He thought about all the things he should've done, the words he should've spoken, the questions he should've asked, but never did... And in doing so, he began to heal. ~~~~ As soon as she walked into her apartment, she took out her phone and called him again. Maybe this time he would finally answer. Maybe this time she would finally hear his voice. That was all she really needed right now, to hear him say her name in that way that had become so familiar to her. So intimate. She just wanted to hear him say her name, and then she could get on with the rest of her day and actually get some work done...couldn't she? No, that wasn't true, that wasn't true at all. She wanted him to say that he was okay and that he missed her. She wanted him to ask her to come be with him, to help him get through this, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. If he had wanted her to join him, he would've asked her when he left the message on her machine this morning. But he didn't. And that's what was the hardest for her, the fact that he didn't even give her the choice of going with him or not. He made the decision to leave town by himself, and he didn't even discuss it with her. He shut her out. Pressing her ear against the phone, she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears, but she did nothing to stop them from coming. The phone had rung four times already, but since she had let it ring six times during all of her other attempts to reach him, she decided to wait for the last two rings. And that's when she heard it. A click...a pause...a voice. His voice. She closed her eyes in relief, quickly wiped her cheeks, then said the words she'd been wanting to say all morning. "Mulder, it's me." ~~~~ The moment he heard her voice, he knew she had been crying. He also knew it was because of him. "Scully, I'm okay," he said quietly. He closed his eyes, and he could hear her breathing, and he could see her sitting on her couch...or maybe she was standing...no, she was probably pacing...and she was rubbing her thumb back and forth over the palm of her hand the way she often did when she was unsure of what to say. She was nervous, and he hated that he was the one who made her feel that way. "You left in such a hurry. I was worried about you, Mulder," she finally said, her voice filled with concern, yet in complete control. "Don't be. I'm fine, Scully." "I know how difficult the last few days have been for you." "I just needed to get away from everything for awhile, that's all." "Take as much time as you need, Mulder." "I just need a few days. I'll be back on Monday." "Well, I guess I'll see you then, huh?" "I guess so." "Take care of yourself." "I'll be fine." "Okay, then...see you on Monday." "Monday..." Click. Pressing the *end* button, he set the phone down on the coffee table and laid his head against the back of the couch. When he had made the decision to come to Quonochontaug, he thought that he wanted to be alone, that he wanted to sort through his emotions without any distractions, but the moment he heard Scully's voice, he knew. He didn't want to be alone anymore. ~~~~ Scully turned the hot water on and poured two capfuls of bubble solution into the tub. It was early in the afternoon, and much earlier in the day than when she would normally take a bath, but after talking to Mulder, losing herself in the comfort of a long hot bubble bath was just what she needed. She also needed to think. He had told her that he was okay, but was he really? Between dealing with his mother's funeral arrangements and meeting with her lawyers about various financial matters, he'd barely had time to sit down since they returned from California, much less spend any time with her. And there was still the matter of Samantha. He'd told her next to nothing about what happened out in the woods by Arbutus Ray's house, and although he seemed to understand and accept the events of that night, she didn't know what to believe. Was his search for the truth about Samantha finally over? Was it really the end of the road for him? That night when he had looked up at the stars and told her that he felt "free", she wanted to believe him, but how could she do that when she didn't know all the facts? Closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, she slid further underneath the bubbly surface and tried to make herself relax. ~~~~ Mulder picked the phone up from the table and looked at the number #1 on his speed dial. It would be so easy to press that button and call Scully back. He'd simply ask her to come here, and she would. Wouldn't she? No, he needed to do this alone. As much as he wished that she was here right now, he needed to let go of his past and grieve for his family alone. Only then could he truly move forward with his life. And with her. Turning the phone off, he tossed it beside him on the couch, then went over to his duffel bag and took out his running shoes and a sweatshirt. He quickly put them on, looked over at the phone one last time, then headed out the door. ~~~~ 3:57 p.m. After her bath, Scully had eaten some lunch and tried to get some work done, but after nearly an hour of accomplishing nothing, she finally decided that enough was enough. She was going to see Mulder. After cleaning up a few odds and ends around her apartment and packing the last few items in her suitcase, she picked up her phone and nervously rubbed her fingers over its smooth surface. Should she call him first and tell him she was coming, giving him the chance to tell her not to? Or should she just show up on his doorstep and deal with the consequences when she got there? Quickly putting the phone back in her jacket pocket before she changed her mind, she grabbed her suitcase and car keys and headed out the door. ~~~~ Mulder dragged himself through the door of the house and stumbled over to the couch. Pulling his sweatshirt off, he used it to wipe the sweat off his face, then tossed it on the floor. The t-shirt he was wearing was also drenched with sweat from his hour long run, and he quickly peeled that off too, adding it to the pile which now included his running shoes and socks as well. He couldn't remember the last time he had run like that, so fast and hard and relentlessly. His body would pay for the exertion later, he was certain of that, but it was worth it. Sucking all that cold air in and out of his lungs, feeling the sting of the wind as it hit him in the face...God, it had felt so good to run with such abandon, to clear all thoughts out of his head and concentrate only on pushing his body to the limit. He was completely exhausted, and yet he never felt more alive. ~~~~ 5:15 p.m. Mulder sat sideways on the couch, stretching out his long legs down to the end of it and resting his back against a couple of pillows. His knees were throbbing and his muscles felt sore and tight from his earlier run, yet sitting there he felt perfectly comfortable. He had rid himself of a lot of guilt since he had come here, and to him, that had made it a good day. About an hour ago he took a long hot shower and fixed himself some soup to eat, and now he was just going to kick back and read one of the books that he had brought with him. In all honesty, he couldn't remember the last time he just sat and read a book, not for research but for pleasure. Then again, there were a lot of things he couldn't remember doing over the past twenty years. When was the last time he went bowling or spent an afternoon at the art museum? How long had it been since he went to a Knicks game or took a beautiful woman out on a date? How had he let his life become so out of control, so consumed with nothing but his search for the truth? Well, no more. He may have lost himself all those years ago when Samantha disappeared, but now he was ready to emerge from the dark endless tunnel he'd been wandering around in and find out who he really was. Smiling, he put on his glasses, then picked up his book and began to read. Just for himself. ~~~~ Scully stood outside her car, filling it with gas. She had forgotten to check the tank before taking off for Quonochontaug, and for about the past five miles, the orange fuel light had been flashing at her. She had tried to ignore it, especially since she knew she could probably make it to the Mulder summer home without running out of gas, yet she couldn't help thinking that its insistent flashing was meant as some kind a warning to her. *Flash*. Don't go to him. *Flash*. He wants to be alone. *Flash*. You're making a big mistake. Was she making a mistake? Should she just turn the car around and let Mulder work through this alone the way he wanted to or should she keep on going? She knew what she wanted to do, or rather what she *needed* to do, but was it really what he needed? The last time she'd been in Quonochontaug with him at his family's house, he was more distraught and confused than she'd ever seen him before. He had pushed himself to the edge that night, and though it had been nearly three years since then, her heart still ached every time she thought of how close she came to losing him for good. This time she knew he wasn't close to the edge, yet the need she had to go to him was just as strong as it was that night. She wanted to help him, to listen to him, to understand him, and perhaps in doing so, better understand herself. "No, damn it...I'm not making a mistake," she whispered to herself as she hung the gasoline nozzle back on the pump. Once she paid for the gas and was on her way again, it wasn't long before she began to recognize her surroundings. Her heart pumped furiously in her chest as she made one turn, then another, until finally she was on his road. Driving slowly down the street, she pulled up in front of the house and parked her car beside the curb right next to the mailbox. Not sure how he would react to seeing her, she left her suitcase in the car, and started the long walk up the stairs. By the time she got to the front door, her chest and throat felt so tight, she could barely breathe, let alone speak. And what was she going to say to him anyway? She had absolutely no idea. And what would he say to her when he opened the door and saw her standing there? She had no idea what to expect about that either, but she was about to find out. After shaking out her arms and taking a couple of deep breaths, she knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked on the door again, tapping four times instead of three. Still no answer. She could see that the lights were on through the curtains so she knew he was there. So, why wasn't he answering? Did he know it was her standing there and he was too angry to answer? Or worse yet, was something wrong, and he *couldn't* answer? Putting her hand on the cold brass doorknob, she turned it in hopes of it being unlocked. The door clicked open, much to her surprise, and she quietly slipped inside. The moment she stepped into the entryway, her eyes were immediately drawn to the living room and the man lying on the couch. From where she was standing, he appeared to be sleeping, but she couldn't tell for sure. Her heart pounded with the force of an out of control jackhammer as she nervously took one...two...six steps over to the couch. And then there she was. And there he was. She looked down at him with his glasses crookedly resting on his face and his hand loosely holding onto the partly open book laying on his chest, and it was then that she knew. She was right where she was meant to be. ~~~~ He was dreaming. Of innocent children playing in a field of starlight...of Samantha running towards him, embracing him, forgiving him... He was dreaming. Of small hands touching his face, of beautiful eyes looking right into his soul, of a smile that he would never forget... He was dreaming, and yet it all felt so real. He could feel the feather-light touch of her fingers on his cheek, her caress so soft and delicate, and he couldn't remember ever feeling so warm and safe. And loved. ~~~~ Looking down at him sleeping there, she was amazed at how peaceful he looked. Every muscle in his body seemed to be relaxed, every line in his face smooth, every breath slow and steady. She couldn't remember him ever looking so content while he slept. Or so beautiful. He shifted in his sleep just then, causing the book he was barely holding to start sliding off his chest. She quickly grabbed it before it fell, then placed it on the coffee table, but not before noticing just what book it was...The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. She knew that Mulder did a lot of reading and that he had a lot of books in his apartment, but she had never seen him reading something like this before. She was familiar with Gibran's work, and the idea that he was interested in reading something so philosophical and poetic both intrigued her and excited her. Picking the book back up, she started skimming through the first few sections. Gibran's words were simple, yet quite spiritual, and she wondered what he had thought about them when he read them. As she continued to flip through a few more pages, she couldn't help noticing that the corner of page 50 had been folded over. Bringing the book closer to her face, she began to read... --Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing; and let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.-- Reading over the passage a second time, she thought about what the words meant and about how much they seemed to apply to her and Mulder. Reason and passion...rudder and sails. Is that why he had marked the page? Did he think of himself as the sails, leading them through uncharted waters, and her as the rudder, guiding them safely to shore? Smiling to herself because she already knew the answer to her question, she quietly set the book back on the table and looked at his face again. His glasses were sitting even more crookedly on the bridge of his nose now so she reached down and wriggled them over his ears as carefully as she could. Once they were off of his face, she could really get a good look at him. And she could touch him. She gently pushed some loose hair off his forehead, then moved her hand down to his cheek. Brushing her fingertips over his stubbly cheek, she became overwhelmed with the amount of love she felt for this man. And she did love him. No, she hadn't spoken the words out loud yet, but she felt them. With every thought, with every breath, she felt them. "Scully?" he said, rubbing his eyes and slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Yes, it's me," she replied, sitting down beside him. Obviously still in a daze, he blinked his eyes several times and ran his fingers through his hair. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice thick and raspy. "I needed to see you," she said, surprised by how easy it was for her to simply tell him what she was feeling. He rubbed his eyes again and cleared his throat, then tilted his head towards her. "Is something wrong? Are you okay, Scully?" Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed it, and softly said, "I'm fine, Mulder." "Then why did you come here?" Looking down at their joined hands, she took a deep breath, then answered, "I know you said you were okay on the phone, and I know you said you wanted to be alone, Mulder, but I needed to see for myself that you were really alright." She cupped her other hand around his cheek and added, "I've been really worried about you." The gentleness of her touch and the concern in her voice surprised him, not because he didn't believe her sincerity, but because he couldn't remember her ever admitting her feelings to him so easily. She was letting him inside her heart, and as he looked into her eyes, he knew it was time for him to let her inside of his. Pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on her shoulder, he quietly said, "I'm glad you're here." ~~~~ Saturday morning 8:12 a.m. Mulder rolled over to the left side of the bed and groaned. His back muscles felt tight, his legs felt heavy, and his ribs ached. He had felt so powerful and strong when he went on his run yesterday afternoon, but now it was all he could do just to sit up in bed. Propping himself up against a couple of pillows, he looked over towards the window. He had forgotten to close the curtains all the way last night, and he could see through the opening that it was raining outside. It wasn't a pounding rain, but a slow steady one, his favorite kind of rain. When he was a boy, there were many mornings he woke up in this very bed to the sound of rain tapping against the window, and he smiled as he remembered how he used to lie here and read his Hardy Boys mystery books while waiting for the rest of the family to wake up. Life was so simple then, so innocent. Could it ever be that way for him again? Was it even possible? Maybe... Sliding his weary body back down underneath the covers, he closed his eyes, and listened to the rain. ~~~~ Scully rolled over in bed and yawned. Lazily opening her eyes and running her fingers through her hair, she looked around the room in front of her. She was in the guest room of the house, a nicely decorated room with a full size bed, a dresser, a desk, and a beautiful set of cherry wood bookshelves built right into the wall. All of the shelves were still filled with books even though the house had rarely been used over the last several years, and she smiled, imagining Mulder as a young boy looking at these same books, despite the fact that many of them were probably too difficult for him to understand at the time. Looking at the books also reminded her of the book he had been reading last night before she got there, and she smiled again. Rudder and sails...reason and passion. That really *was* them, wasn't it? Glancing over at the clock on her bedside table, she saw that it was almost 8:30. She hadn't heard any noises in the house since she had awakened, and she wondered if Mulder was still in bed sleeping or if he'd gone out for an early morning run. Swinging her legs off the bed, she slid her feet into her slippers and walked over to the window. Even though it was raining outside, it wasn't coming down hard enough to keep him from jogging if he wanted to. Last night he told her he was glad she was here, but maybe now that he'd had a chance to sleep on it, he had changed his mind. Maybe he'd decided that he didn't want her there anymore, and he needed to go for a run so he could figure out how to tell her to go home. No, she refused to believe that. Surely Mulder wouldn't tell her to leave now that she was here, would he? Looking out at the bare oak tree in the backyard, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. She knew it was foolish of her to think that Mulder was getting ready to push her away simply because she didn't hear him moving around in the house. And yet she couldn't stop what she was feeling. Ever since she walked in the door last night and saw him sleeping so peacefully on the couch, she wanted nothing more than to share this time with him and to help him in any way he needed her to. The question was - was he going to let her? Although they hadn't really had much time to discuss things since their California trip and his mother's funeral, when she had pressed him on the subject, he had shut her out. And last night, when she had casually brought it up again, he had simply said, "Not now", then quickly changed the subject to something else. Well, no more. Whether he really wanted her there or not, he was going to talk to her, and that's all there was to it. Grabbing her robe, she walked out the door and headed down the hallway to his bedroom. ~~~~ He was surprised to find Scully standing over him when he woke up on the couch yesterday. And yet he wasn't surprised at all. He knew that she had been concerned about him ever since they returned from California and that she had wanted him to talk about what had happened with Samantha there, but he also knew that he hadn't processed everything he had seen and felt that night yet. And until he could do that, he couldn't share his feelings with her. He thought that spending some time alone in this house would help him make sense of things, but then last night she had come here, and suddenly what he thought he wanted was not what he wanted at all. He was glad she came here, and he was glad he asked her to stay. Now he just needed to let himself open up to her. ~~~~ His eyes were closed like before, but unlike last night, he wasn't asleep. And he was smiling. "Good morning," she said quietly as she stood in the doorway. "Mornin', Scully," he answered, letting out a throaty groan as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. "I guess I'm not getting any younger, am I?" he joked, reaching up with both hands to massage the stiffness out of his shoulders. "Oh, I don't know, Mulder. You do act like a little boy sometimes," she retorted, her eyes sparkling as she walked into the room and sat down on the end of his bed. "That hurts, Scully," he playfully replied, "but not as much as my aching body does right now." "Serves you right for running too long out in this cold weather. You're lucky you didn't get sick too," she gently admonished. He scooted over in the bed, turning his back on her. "Would you mind helping me out here? My own hands just aren't cuttin' it," he remarked, still awkwardly trying to rub the kinks out of his shoulders and neck. She was surprised by his request, but she was even more surprised when she felt her hands moving up over his back so easily. Squeezing each of his shoulders, she worked her hands down to his forearms and back again. He was right, his muscles were tight, and they were also very warm. Just like she was. "Ahhh, Scully...that feels so good," he said a few minutes later as he let out yet another contented sigh. "Thank you. I feel much more relaxed now," he added, turning back around in the bed so he was facing her. What? It was over already? Quickly dropping her hands to her sides and trying to mask her disappointment, she said, "I'm glad you feel better." "I always feel better when you're with me," he said simply, briefly brushing his fingers across her arm. Climbing out of bed, he walked over to the dresser and grabbed some clothes out of the top drawer. "Meet me in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. I'll make you some breakfast...or at least try to anyway," he said, smiling at her for the third time that morning. And then he left without another word. Rubbing her hand over one of her still-flushed cheeks, she watched him walk through the doorway, then got up off the bed and hurried back to her own bedroom. After all, she had a breakfast date to get ready for. ~~~~ "Your coffee and cereal awaits," Mulder said cheerfully as he stood by the kitchen table and politely pulled out the chair for her. "Boy, you really know how to treat a girl," she said, walking over to the table and sitting down. "Hey, only the best for you, Scully," he replied, sitting down in the chair across from her. She took a sip of coffee. "Everything's just fine." He poured some milk on his corn flakes. "Good, because it's pretty much all I have around here to eat for breakfast. If we're going to be staying here through the whole weekend, I guess I need to take a trip to the grocery store, huh?" She took another sip of her coffee, and replied, "Okay, but let me go to the store, Mulder. It's the least I can do, considering I'm the one who came here uninvited." She looked away from him then and immediately began to fumble around with her spoon and napkin. Noticing her awkwardness about what she had just said, he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. "And I'm glad you did, Scully. I want you here," he said quietly, but with conviction. And he did want her there. When he had come here yesterday morning, he had come alone to a cold lonely house, but now that she was here, the house felt warm and comfortable. And safe. Yes, he felt safe here now. Safe enough to let himself feel for the first time in a long time. "I was thinking that maybe after we eat breakfast, we could take a walk down by the ocean," he said, surprising her with the sudden change of subject. "In case you haven't noticed, Mulder, it's raining outside," she stated, spooning some cereal into her mouth. "I know, but it's the good kind of rain," he said, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "The good kind of rain?" "Yeah, the kind that you can walk out in and get wet, but not soaked...the kind that feels good against your skin and helps clear your mind," he explained. He took two hearty gulps of coffee, then added, "There's nothing like walking along the beach on a rainy day." She looked over at him, her eyes shining, and said, "Well then, what are we waiting for?" ~~~~~~ The mist coming off of the ocean and the light sprinkling of rain felt cold against Scully's face, but inside she had never felt so warm. And content. They had only walked a few yards from the house when Mulder had silently taken her hand in his. And of course she had let him. "Is it too cold out here for you, Scully?" he asked, stopping for a moment in front of a large piece of driftwood. "No, it feels quite refreshing, actually," she replied as she zipped her jacket up underneath her chin to keep her hood from blowing off her head. "I think so too," he said quietly. "Looks like we've got the whole beach to ourselves today," he added, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before starting to walk again. "Let's go down closer by the water," he suggested. "Okay," she agreed. As they got closer to the shoreline, not only did the waves become louder, but the air felt considerably colder, and she found herself wishing she had worn an extra sweater and some heavier pants. "It's much colder down here, isn't it?" Mulder asked as he let go of her hand and adjusted the hood on his jacket. She quickly rechecked her zipper, then put her hands into her pockets. "Yes, it is," she said, her teeth slightly chattering. "Here, let me," he said, walking behind her, then slipping his long arms underneath hers and wrapping them around her waist. Bending down so that their cheeks were almost touching, he asked, "Does this help, Scully?" "I guess maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I don't want you to get sick," he said, his hot breath tickling her cheek. "Maybe we should just get back to the house. What do you think, Scully?" he asked, his hands absentmindedly moving back and forth underneath her ribs. "Scully? Did you just hear what I said?" "I'm sorry, Mulder. What'd you say?" she answered even though she knew exactly what he had said and the tone of voice he had said it in. "I wanted to know if you want to go back to the house. It's colder out here than I thought it would be." He made a move to untangle his arms from underneath hers then, but before he could pull them away she put her hands on his and stopped him. "Don't," she said softly. "I'd like to stay here for awhile...just like this." Pressing his chest against her back and tightening his arms around her, he bent over and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, "I was hoping you'd say that." ~~~~ "My mother used to like to come out here when it was raining and think about things," he said quietly, lightly resting his chin on Scully's shoulder. "I guess we were alike that way." She squeezed his right hand. "Oh?" she replied, wanting him to continue, but not wanting to push him. "I used to wonder what she was thinking about," he said, watching yet another round of waves crash against the shore. "But I never asked her. I guess I figured she wouldn't tell me anyway..." He closed his eyes and took a long deep breath of the cold ocean air. "Did she ever ask you what *you* were thinking about?" she asked as she nervously shifted her feet in the sand a bit. "No," he answered, suddenly lifting his head from her shoulder. Unwrapping his arms from around her waist and sticking his hands in his pockets, he continued, "I think she was afraid of what I would say, just like I was afraid of her answers. It's stupid, I know, but that's the way we were with each other...right up until the end." He wiped his face with his jacket sleeve. "Maybe if we hadn't been so afraid of our feelings, things would've been different...and I could've sto..." Knowing exactly where he was going with this, she quickly grabbed his arm and turned him towards her before he could finish. "You can't blame yourself for what she did, Mulder...I'm not going to let you blame yourself. She made the choice to *end* her life, just as she made all the choices for how she wanted to *live* her life." He knew what Scully was saying was true, and even though he had finally come to the same conclusion about his mother himself, he was still having trouble letting go of all the guilt he felt. Even if his mother had confided in him about her illness, about Samantha, about the night she was taken, would he have been able to stop her from ending her life? Probably not. And that was something he would always have to live with, regardless of how much time had passed. ~~~~ As difficult as it was for her to watch him go through this, she couldn't help feeling an overwhelming sense of relief that he was finally opening up to her. A part of her wanted to drag everything out of him right now, make him talk about his mom, make him let go of all his anger and guilt once and for all, but she knew that wasn't what he needed now. What he needed was someone to listen. And to understand. ~~~~ "You know, things weren't always that way between us," he finally said, fiddling with the lint inside his jacket pockets. He looked out at the ocean and thought back to a time when things were easy between them, a time when they simply enjoyed being with each other. Taking a step closer to him, Scully linked her arm through his, and softly said, "Tell me about her, Mulder." "She loved to play games...cards, chess, board games... and she was good at them too," he remembered fondly. "Every Sunday afternoon while Dad was watching the football games, she and I would sit out at the kitchen table and play Monopoly. She'd drink her tea, and I'd drink my glass of chocolate milk, and we'd talk about things while we played...school, books, sports." "That sounds nice," she commented. "It was. I felt comfortable with her then, like I could tell her anything...and she didn't judge me. She just listened." Looking up at the rapidly moving gray clouds above him, he let out a long sigh, and said, "She was a good person, Scully." Resting her head against his shoulder, she squeezed his arm, and simply replied, "I know." He closed his eyes then, and for the first time since his mother's funeral, he let himself cry. ~~~~ Her heart ached for him. So many disappointments in his life, so much sadness and guilt about things he had no control over. So many losses... But now as she listened to him softly crying beside her, she knew he was going to be okay. He was letting himself heal, and he was letting her help him. Finally. Tightening the hold she had on his arm, she closed her eyes and let her own tears fall gently with the rain. ~~~~ Twenty minutes later "Thanks for going down to the beach with me, Scully," he said, taking off his wet jacket and laying it on the back of the kitchen chair. "Thanks for asking me," she replied as she slipped her own soggy coat off her arms and draped it over the chair across from his. "I shouldn't have let you stay out in the rain with me for so long though. I'd hate for you to get sick because of me," he said, his voice etched with concern. Brushing her hand along his arm, she said reassuringly, "I wanted to be out there with you." Then she walked over to the couch and sat down. "And you *needed* to go out there, Mulder. You needed to let go, and I'm glad that you trusted me enough to let me be there when you did." He sat down beside her, close enough so that their legs were touching. "I do feel better now. Thank you," he said, tentatively reaching over and placing his hand on top of hers. "Your hand's cold, Scully." He gently rubbed her fingers. "Why don't I make us some hot tea? I'm sure my mother has some tea bags stashed away in one of these cupboards." "That's not necessary, Mulder. My hand's already beginning to feel warmer...thanks to you," she stated, shyly looking at him, then quickly looking down at her feet. "I'd be glad to warm up the other one...that is, if you want me to," he offered, lightly rubbing both sides of her hand with both of his hands now. She looked back up at him then with her pink cheeks and mussed up hair, held out her other hand, and replied, "That would be nice." "Feeling warmer now?" he asked, absentmindedly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "Yes, I am," she answered. "The next time we go down to the beach, I'll remember to bring my gloves. "Or the next time we go outside, I could just hold your hand the entire time..." he quietly offered, not sure of what her response would be. She looked at him and smiled. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much." "I can still make some tea if you'd like some," he suggested, suddenly feeling rather awkward about their close proximity. Letting go of her hand, he stood up from the couch. "Or I don't know...there might be some packets of hot chocolate in the pantry if you'd like that instead. I really haven't checked all the cupboards yet." She stood up beside him. "I didn't come here to have you wait on me, Mulder." "I know that." He started walking towards the kitchen. "I just wanted to do something nice for you, that's all." Following him there, she replied, "Well, as much as I appreciate the offer, Mulder, you still haven't learned the fine art of tea making so if you don't mind, I think I'd like to make my own." "And since when has boiling water become such a fine art, Scully?" he teased as he opened the cupboard to the left of the sink and reached inside. "It's not the boiling part you have trouble with. It's the amount of time you leave the tea bag in the water," she stated, opening up a different cupboard in hopes of finding some mugs. He pulled out a box of some Lipton tea bags and opened it up. Then he turned on the stove, picked up the kettle sitting on the back burner, filled it with water, and set it back down on the front burner. "Oh, is that right? And tell me, 'O Great Tea Expert', exactly how much time should one leave the bag in the water?" Not finding the cups in that cupboard, she tried another one. "Everyone knows that three minutes is the right amount of time for the best flavor," she replied smugly. "Well, maybe three minutes is good for you, Scully, but if you really want the ultimate in flavor, you have to let it soak for at least five." He playfully nudged her hip as he walked by and opened up the cupboard door to the right of the stove. Taking out two blue mugs and two spoons from the drawer, he set them down on the table and said, "I guess plain tea will have to do for now." Then he opened up the packets and plopped one in each cup. The kettle began to whistle just then, and Scully quickly picked it up and brought it over to the table. Leaning over next to him, she poured some in each cup and remarked, "Sometimes the best things are the simplest things, Mulder." Feeling her arm brush against his shoulder as she carefully poured the water, then watching her as she gently set the kettle back down on the stove, he couldn't help thinking about all the times he watched his mother do the same thing during their Sunday afternoon game days. "Thanks again for going out there with me this morning, Scully," he said as she sat down across the table from him. She jostled her tea bag around inside of her cup, then looked up at him and smiled. "Maybe if the rain lets up, we can go out again this afternoon." Remembering her earlier words to him, he shifted his own tea bag around and smiled back. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much." ~~~~ McAllister's Family Supermarket 10:35 a.m. Scully walked down aisle nine, scanning all the different varieties of tea. There were so many to choose from, but there was one in particular that caught her eye. Picking up the small rectangular box, she smiled to herself as she read the label... Gentle Orange. Even though she had never tried the flavor before, she couldn't help thinking that the name of it fit perfectly with the quiet morning that she and Mulder had shared together. She had enjoyed having his arms around her as they stood on the beach in the rain. She had liked hearing him talk about his mother, and she had especially liked the fact that he'd felt comfortable enough with her to let himself grieve in front of her. Then afterwards when they had come inside, he had very tenderly warmed up her hands, and they had talked again while drinking tea at the kitchen table. It had all been so simple, yet so wonderful. So gentle. Once they had finished their tea, she had offered to come here to the grocery store and pick up a few more things to get them through the rest of the weekend, and despite the fact that he said he wanted to come along with her, she had gotten the impression that he wanted some time alone. And so now here she was. Part of her relished the fact that she was doing something so domestic for the two of them. And then there was the other part of her. The uncertain and cautious part of her that always seemed to rear its ugly head when she least wanted it to. As much as she was enjoying this time with him away from work, she also knew that it would eventually have to end. Sure, things were going well between them now, but what would happen when they left Quonochontaug and went back to D.C.? Would they still be so open with each other or would they go back to who they were before she came here? She knew what she wanted, but was it also what he wanted? She hoped so. Tossing the box of tea on top of the other items in the cart, she went down the last two aisles, then headed for the checkout line. ~~~~ 10:49 a.m. Mulder bent over in the driveway, putting his hands on his knees and exhaling through his mouth. Although his muscles were still stiff from all the running he had done yesterday, it felt good to get out and run again. Not only did the cool mist from the rain feel refreshing, but it also gave him a chance to do some more thinking about his mom and his sister. And Scully. She had been so supportive of him this morning as he grieved for his mother, and she had been more open to him than she ever had. She had rubbed his shoulders for him, she had let him put his arms around her as they stood on the beach, and then later, she had let him warm up her hands, but the thing that he was most struck by was the fact that she had let all these things happen without the least bit of hesitation. Was she trying to tell him something with her actions? Was she simply being a good friend or was she trying to let him know that she might finally be ready to take things further between them? He hoped it was the latter. When he decided to come here yesterday, it was because he wanted the chance to sort out his feelings about his family, but with each passing minute he found himself thinking more about Scully and what his feelings were about her. Now that he was finally beginning to put his past behind him, he wanted more than ever for her to be a part of his future, to be not just his partner at work, but his partner for life. Partner for life...God, the words sounded so cheesy when he said them to himself, and yet that's exactly what he wanted her to be. His partner for life, for always... He stood up and put his arms above his head, clasping his hands and stretching his upper body from one side to the other. Then he closed his eyes and repeated the same action again, letting out a satisfied groan as he felt the familiar burn of having completed a good workout. "I thought you were too sore to run this morning," Scully said as she got out of the car and walked towards him. "And I thought you'd be gone longer," he replied, a little embarrassed that he had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear her car pull up. "You know you missed me, Mulder," she teased as she walked around to the back of the car and popped open the trunk. "I figured I'd have time to go for a quick run and get a shower before you got back," he said as he tried to brush down his wet hair with his hand. "Well, you figured wrong," she said, smiling as she handed him two sacks of groceries. "I'm a very efficient shopper." "So, you're feeling better than you were this morning then?" she asked, grabbing the last bag and closing the trunk. "You mean since you gave me that great massage?" he asked, remembering how soft, yet firm her fingers had felt on his shoulders earlier. "Yes, since then." "I'm feeling much better, thanks. I don't suppose I could trouble you for another one later, could I? I mean, you never know when my muscles might tighten up again, Scully," he said as they walked inside and set the bags down on the kitchen counter. "That's a possibility," she replied, looking at him out of the corner of her eye as she started unpacking the bag in front of her. He reached inside the bag and took out a couple cans of soup, a small bag of pre-cut lettuce, and some apples. "And just exactly what would have to happen in order for me to have that possibility become a reality, Agent Scully?" he asked, pretending to focus his attention on the groceries when what he was really doing was trying to gauge her reaction to his rather forward question. She turned and opened the refrigerator door, bending down as she set the carton of eggs and a small jug of milk inside. Then she stood up, closed the door, and walked over to him without saying a word. Taking hold of his damp sweatshirt, she tugged on it just enough to pull it away from his chest, a chest filled with a heart that was now suddenly beating way too fast. "Go take a shower, Mulder. Then we'll see what happens." "I can do that," he said, immediately feeling relieved that she seemed to be enjoying the flirtatious undercurrent of their conversation as much as he was. "But first let me help you finish putting away this food." "That's not necessary. Just go on ahead and get your shower. I can finish up here. There's really not much left to put away anyway." "Is that your subtle way of telling me that I stink, Scully?" "No offense, Mulder, but you do smell a bit...ripe." Mulder put his arm up to his nose and took a whiff of his sweatshirt. "I guess I am a little ripe." "Just a little?" she remarked, crinkling up her nose as she walked past him and opened up the pantry door. She put a loaf of bread and some pasta inside, then closed the door. "Okay, okay, I'm going...but first there's something I want to do." He took a step towards her and put his hand on her shoulder. Her body seemed to instantly relax beneath his fingertips, giving him just the confidence he needed in order to do what he had been wanting to do ever since she had arrived last night. "What's that, Mulder?" she asked, her eyebrow raising suspiciously. Gently cupping his hand around her cheek, he bent down closer to her face, and said, "This..." And then he kissed her. ~~~~ There were stars everywhere. Not the big dazzling ones that brighten up the entire night sky. Not the ones that have a hazy glow or the ones that look like tiny pinpricks of light hiding between the clouds. No, these stars were different. These stars were soft and golden and warm, flashing underneath her eyelids like tiny sparks. These stars were her own personal stars, imprinted onto her lips by Mulder. ~~~~ He had a desire to kiss her last night when he awoke on the couch and saw her standing above him, and then again this morning when she had sat on the edge of his bed and gently massaged his shoulders. He had even considered leaning over and kissing her as they sat at the kitchen table eating their breakfast, but he had held himself back each time, waiting for a different moment, a better moment. And now it was here. Now his face was wet from the rain and his hair was a mess and his damp clothes clung to his skin and he felt himself moving closer closer closer and touching her cheek and then he was kissing her...oh God, he was kissing her and she wasn't pushing him away and her lips were so soft so warm so perfectly pressed against his... "Wow..." he said breathlessly as he finally released his mouth from hers. "That was so...wow..." she replied, cupping the palm of her hand over her blushing cheek and using her other hand to steady herself against the pantry door. "Are you okay, Scully?" he asked as he stepped towards her. "I saw stars," she blurted out. She blinked her eyes several times, then blew out a long puff of air. "I actually saw stars, Mulder." "What?" he asked with a puzzled look on his face. She smiled and reached over to take his hand. "When you were kissing me, you made me see stars." Then she shyly looked down at the floor and softly said, "No one's ever given me stars before." "Wow..." he said again, briefly running his fingers over her hair, then letting them trickle down her back. She moved closer to him and put her arms around his waist. "You know, Mulder, maybe you should kiss me more often. It seems to have put you at a loss for words." He lazily moved his hands down her arms, stopping at her elbows. "Is that a good thing?" "It is now." He pulled her closer to him then, resting his chin on the top of her head. Sniffing his shirt, she looked up at him and remarked, "It seems to me I remember you saying something about taking a shower." "I don't think I can remember anything before that kiss." She loosened herself from his embrace, then walked to the counter and picked up one of the empty grocery bags. She folded it and placed it back on the counter. "Nice try, Mulder, but that's not going to get you out of taking a shower," she teased. "I wasn't trying to get out of anything, although I sure wouldn't mind trying to get another kiss before I go," he said as he walked over to her, took her into his arms, and pressed his mouth against hers before she could object. This time, this second time was just as incredible as the first...no, this was better...he could feel her fingers grabbing the back of his shirt and he could taste a hint of cereal and tea on the tip of her tongue and he could smell the ocean in her hair and he could see stars... hundreds of white stars, flashing beneath his eyelids like tiny beacons of light. Were these the same stars that she had seen before? With his eyes still closed, he gently released her mouth from his, then lightly placed kisses on each cheek and on her forehead. "I think that'll hold me for awhile... or at least until I finish my shower," he said, slowly opening his eyes and letting his hands gently fall away from her face. Looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, she ran her hands down the sides of his waist and over his hips. "Are you saying you'd like to kiss me again, Mulder?" "That was my plan, yeah." She stepped back from him and leaned against the counter. "I think it's a good plan." "That's good to know," he said as he started heading towards the door. "I'm going to fix myself something to eat while you're cleaning up. Would you like anything?" He stopped when he got to the doorway, then turned around to look at her one last time. "Surprise me." She glanced at the floor and thought for a moment, then looked back at him, her eyes sparkling, and said, "I think I've already done that this morning." He smiled all the way to the bathroom. ~~~~ Scully pulled a can of chicken noodle soup out of the kitchen cupboard, opened it, and poured its contents into the pan she had placed on the front burner of the stove. Adding some water to the now empty can, she poured that into the pan as well, turned on the burner, and started to stir the mixture. Once she was done with that, she opened the refrigerator and filled her arms with all the salad fixings she had bought at the grocery store...a bag of lettuce, a tomato, a cucumber, and a carton of mushrooms. After laying everything out on the counter, she got out two plates and two bowls, then stirred the soup again. Looking at all the food spread before her, she couldn't help thinking of how she had felt earlier in the grocery store when she was buying all of it. She had relished the fact that she was doing something as domestic and normal as grocery shopping, and now here she was again, doing something else considered to be domestic. Making a meal for her man. Of course, he wasn't really "her man", at least not in the conventional sense, but still, the thought that she was fixing a meal especially for him made her feel downright giddy. Okay, maybe not giddy...maybe happy was a better word to describe how she was feeling. No, she was right the first time. She was giddy, and it was because of Mulder. Because of the way he had shared himself with her since she came here, because of the way he had touched her and kissed her and been so open with her. Because of the way he trusted her. Smiling, she stirred their soup a third time, then started to prepare their salads, making sure to put plenty of mushrooms on his. Just the way he liked it. ~~~~ Mulder stood in the shower, bracing his hands against the wall and letting the water pound against his back. And he thought. He thought about how incredible it had been to finally kiss Scully, and how happy he had felt when she told him that he'd actually made her see stars. He thought about easy it had been to take her in his arms out on the beach, and how good it had felt to have her beside him as he cried for his mother. He thought about how comforting it was to simply have her here in this house with him, this house where he spent so much of his childhood. This house that he once shared with Samantha. Samantha... Although he'd come here to grieve for his mother, he'd also come here to deal with his feelings about his sister, to make sense of what he had experienced with her out in California, and to let go of the past they shared so that he could finally take his life in a different direction. And yet in the time since Scully had arrived, he hadn't said one word to her about Samantha. When they were flying back from California, she had asked him what had happened out in the woods near Arbutus Ray's house that night, but he hadn't been able to tell her then, to actually put his emotions into words. She had asked him again a few days later, but he was too busy trying to deal with his mother's funeral and all her business affairs to think about it, let alone talk about it. But now as he stood there in the steamy shower stall, he could see things more clearly than he had in a long time. He wanted to take their relationship to the next step, but it wasn't fair of him to try to move things forward between them when there were still so many things left unsaid. He had to talk about Samantha. He had to tell Scully what happened out in the woods that night, and how after all these years, it was that experience that had finally helped him accept the fact that his sister was dead and that she was never coming back. The question was - would she believe him? Would she believe that he actually looked into Samantha's eyes that night and held her in his arms? He hoped so. Splashing his face with one last round of hot water, he turned off the faucet, and stepped out of the shower. ~~~~ Scully put the salads on the table, then poured some soup into each bowl. She set out some napkins and silverware along with two kinds of salad dressings. She had found some candles in one of the cupboards and had considered lighting them for their meal, but then decided against it. After all, this was just lunch. Wasn't it? Wrong. Things between them had changed considerably since she had arrived here last night, and she didn't want to jeopardize what they had started by pushing things too fast. So she had put the candles back inside the cupboard, hoping that maybe she'd be brave enough to use them later. After pouring them each some water to drink and double checking everything on the table to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she called out, "Mulder...your lunch is ready." She had heard the shower turn off a few minutes ago and she'd expected an immediate response from him, but instead all she heard was silence. "Mulder, did you hear me? It's time to eat," she called out again. Still not getting an answer from him, she headed towards the bathroom. ~~~~ Mulder finished combing his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked different. He was surprised at how young his face looked today, and he couldn't help wondering if maybe his decision to let go of the past and move towards a future with Scully had something to do with it. "You okay, Mulder?" Scully asked, cautiously pushing the half-open door the rest of the way open. "You didn't answer me when I called you for lunch." "I'm okay, " he answered, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She took a step towards him and touched his arm. "I imagine you're pretty hungry after the running you did this morning." He turned to her and put his hands on her waist. "Actually, I was kind of hoping we could talk." He brushed a few strands of her hair off of her face and continued, "I've been doing a lot of thinking since I got here...and I know there are some things you've been wondering about, things I haven't been able to share with you....about Samantha." She studied the serious expression on his face for a moment, then asked, "But you're ready to talk about them now?" He nodded his head. She slipped her hand inside of his. "You're sure?" she asked reassuringly. Squeezing her fingers, he quietly replied, "Yes." ~~~~ "I want to tell you about what happened that night," he said, putting his hand on her lower back and guiding her out of the bathroom. He motioned for her to sit down on the bed in his bedroom instead of having her sit on the couch in the living room, and she was immediately struck by the intimacy of his gesture. She swallowed the lump in her throat and sat down, leaning against the pillows that were propped up against his headboard. He stayed standing. Tilting his head back, he took in a deep breath and exhaled. Then he rubbed his chin and began. "Do you remember when we were standing out by the car and you asked me if I was alright?" She nodded. "And do you remember what I said to you?" "I remember," she replied, wanting to say more, but not wanting to push him. "It's true." He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down beside her. "I'm free, Scully," he said calmly. The night he had said those words to her the first time, she didn't know what to think, but now as she looked into his eyes, she knew exactly what she felt. She believed him. She scooted closer to him on the bed so that their legs were touching. "Tell me about it." He crossed his legs at the ankles and rested his hand on the top of her thigh. "I saw Samantha. I saw her out in the woods, along with Amber Lynn LaPierre, a boy I think was Harold Piller's son, and several other children. They were right in front of me, Scully...all of them." She closed her eyes and thought of when she'd heard Emily plead with her to let her go and when she'd felt her daughter's small hand slip from hers as she walked into the light...and she thought of her father, of the night he died and how he had tried to speak to her. And she understood. "What did they look like?" she asked, crossing her legs at the ankles like his. "They were white and transparent, like ghosts, but I could feel them. I could feel the boy holding my hand," he said, closing his own eyes and remembering. "What boy? Was it Harold Piller's son?" "I think so...I don't know...it was the same boy who led me to Samantha's diary." He took his hand off of her thigh and set it in his lap. "He led me to a clearing in the woods, and that's where I saw all the children." "What were they doing? Did any of them speak to you?" she asked, not wanting to miss out on a single detail. He smiled. "Amber Lynn...she was wearing her nightgown, and she looked up at me and she smiled." He wiped his hand across his forehead and continued. "She actually smiled at me, Scully...and the other children...they were laughing and playing games, jumping rope...it was like they were playing outside on the playground at school. I don't know how else to describe it." It sounds amazing, Mulder," she said quietly, brushing her fingers along the edge of his pant leg. "It was." ~~~~ He felt awkward sharing so much of himself with Scully, but he also felt relieved. He was finally telling her the story of that night, and she wasn't judging him or disputing what he had to say. She was simply listening. "Tell me more," she said, shifting her body against the now sagging pillows behind her back. "After the boy let go of my hand, I remember feeling like I was in the middle of the dream...and I think I actually heard some music, but I'm not sure. Anyway, as I was standing there, trying to take in everything I was seeing, I saw this girl running towards me." "Samantha?" "I wasn't sure." He lowered his head and cleared his throat. "Before I knew it, she had thrown her arms around me and she was hugging me. I know she wasn't real, but I could *feel* her, Scully...I could feel her holding onto me," he said, his voice breaking. "Oh, Mulder..." she whispered, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "She pressed her head against my chest and she held onto me so tightly...and it just...she just felt so warm...and it all just seemed so real," he said, tears forming in his eyes. Scully softly pressed her palm to his cheek, but said nothing. "I'm okay," he said, cupping his palm over hers and pulling her hand away from his face. "I'm okay." He closed his eyes and let out a big sigh. "I didn't think it would be this hard talking about it, you know?" he admitted, laying his head back against the pillow and rubbing his eyes. "Just take your time," she said reassuringly as she leaned against his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere." He turned his head just enough to place a kiss on the spot right above her eyebrow and quietly replied, "I know." "Do you want to stop now?" "Just give me a minute," he answered, looking over at the rain speckled window. He wanted to tell her the rest, tell her of how he had touched his sister's face, how he had stroked her hair, and held her in the moonlight, how he had seen acceptance and forgiveness in her eyes. And how that night, everything in his life changed... But suddenly it was all too much and it was all too fast and his heart was beating triple time in his chest and his hands were shaking and he had to get out of there...he just had to get out of there... Scully touched his arm then, causing his entire body to stiffen. "Mulder, what is it? What's wrong?" "I need to go," he said, abruptly jumping out of bed and grabbing his shoes. "I just need to get out of here." "What's going on? Talk to me," she pleaded, completely bewildered by the sudden change in his behavior. "I need to be alone...just leave me alone, Scully," he said, rushing past her and out of the bedroom before she could say anything else. Getting out of bed as fast as she could, she quickly grabbed her own shoes and ran out into the living room. But she was too late. He was gone. ~~~~ Mulder bolted down the driveway and ran as fast as he could, his untied shoelaces flapping in the misty rain. He had to get away. The sudden realization that everything in his life was different now had hit him with the force of a sledge hammer, and the only thing he could think about was getting away. He had to get away. It had all started out easily enough, telling Scully about how he had seen all the children out in the woods, how Amber Lynn had smiled at him, and how he thought he had actually heard music that night. But then he started telling her about Samantha, and it suddenly occurred to him that the only life he had ever known since he was twelve years old was now over. The fears, the guilt, all the losses he suffered, all the times he felt like a failure, the constant drive and all-consuming passion that had dictated his life... All of it was over. Just like that. Over. When Samantha had looked into his eyes that night, she had set him free from all those emotions, releasing him from a burden that he'd been carrying for over twenty years. But in doing so, had she also released him from who he had become? Her abduction had defined him and who he was, but now that he'd finally found the sense of closure that he wanted, he couldn't help wondering if everything in his life would change again. Would he continue to be the same person he'd been all these years or would he become somebody different now? Was it his destiny to continue searching for other truths out there or was it finally time for him to walk away from everything and start a new life? Blowing out a big puff of air from his lungs, he wiped the cold rain off his face with his shirt sleeve, and kept on running. He had to get away. From himself. ~~~~ Scully quickly put on her shoes, grabbed her coat, and headed towards the door. She put her hand on the knob and began to turn it. And then she stopped. Not because she wanted to, but because *he* wanted her to. She wasn't sure exactly what had made him leave her so abruptly in the first place, but he had told her that he wanted...no, that he *needed* to be alone. And she had to let him be. There had been many other times over the years when he had wanted to be left alone, when he had wanted her to stay away from him and let him do what he felt he needed to do, and she had followed him anyway. But not this time. This time things were different between them. In the short time that she had been here with him, they had gotten closer to each other than they ever had, and she didn't want to do anything that would cause him to doubt his trust in her. Laying her coat over the back of the chair, she slipped her shoes back off, and sat down. Then she pulled down the old quilt from the back of the couch, and tucked it around her legs. And she waited. ~~~~ A half hour later Mulder stood on the beach and looked out at the dark gray ocean, its loud waves restlessly crashing against the shore. The mist from the rain combined with the cold droplets of water that hit him every time a new line of waves hit the shoreline numbed his body, but he didn't move back. He simply stood there and let the harsh coldness wash over him. And he remembered. When he came here on Friday, he had stood on this same beach and he had thought of his parents, and of all that he could've and should've done to make things better between them. Then this morning, he and Scully had stood here again, and he had allowed himself to grieve for his mother and their unfinished relationship. He had begun to let himself heal then, and now as he stood here for the third time, he finally realized that what had happened out in the woods with Samantha was also a part of his healing. He was meant to see her that night. He was meant to see her one last time, to embrace her as she was, and to cherish all that she meant to him. But most importantly, he was meant to let her go so that he could let himself move on with his life. And with Scully. Walking close enough to the shoreline to get the tips of his shoes wet, he wrapped his arms around his trembling body, looked up at the sky, and whispered, "Goodbye, Samantha." And then he smiled. ~~~~ 12:30 pm. When he walked in the door, she was waiting for him, just as he knew she would be. What he wasn't expecting was to see her sitting on the couch sound asleep. Her head was awkwardly slumped to the side, her mouth was slightly open, and the quilt that she had obviously covered her legs with had fallen down around her ankles. Walking over to her as quietly as he could, he bent down and picked up the quilt. Then he carefully placed it on top of her and started on his way to the bathroom so he could take off his wet clothes. Unfortunately, he didn't see her shoes on the floor beside the coffee table, and he tripped, ungracefully sending his lanky body falling to the hardwood floor. "Damn it," he said, awkwardly landing with most of his weight on his left wrist. In an instant, Scully's eyes flew open and she was up off the couch and bending down on her knees beside him. "Mulder, are you okay?" she asked, quickly putting her hand behind his back for support as he lifted himself up to a sitting position. He rubbed his wrist and winced. "I think so, although I don't think I'll be playing the piano for awhile." "You don't play the piano," she said, helping him over to the couch. "Now you tell me," he said dryly. Leaning back against the cushion, he laid his arm in his lap and exhaled. "I'm sorry I woke you, Scully. I tried to come in quietly, but *someone* left their shoes in the middle of the floor." She sat down beside him and carefully lifted his left arm up at the elbow. "And *someone* ran out on me before and didn't tell me where he was going," she stated firmly. She gently pressed on all sides of his wrist with her fingers, then said, "I don't think it's broken, but you're going to need some ice." She started to get up, but he grabbed her hand before she could. "Look Scully, I'm sorry about leaving like that. I didn't do it to hurt you. It's just that I needed to be alone, to sort some things out...about Samantha," he said, hoping she would understand. "And did you?" she asked, a quizzical yet concerned look on her face. "Yeah, I think I did," he answered, looking down as he cradled his wrist against his stomach. Using her index finger the same way he often did with her, she tipped his chin up and made him look at her. "Mulder, are you really okay?" "I'm fine...a little soggy, but fine," he replied as he gently pulled her into his arms. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he softly said, "It's over now, Scully...all of it." "What's over?" she asked, running her fingers through the wet hair at the base of his neck. He pulled back from their embrace and cupped his hands around her face. "My search," he said simply. She tilted her head and touched his damp cheek. "I don't understand." "All these years I spent looking for Samantha, I was so wrapped up in trying to find out what happened to her and where she was that I never stopped to realize that there was also something else I was searching for." He bit his lip and closed his eyes a moment as he gathered his thoughts, then continued. "Don't you see, Scully? I finally get it now. I finally understand." "Understand what?" she asked quietly, leaning forward in anticipation of his answer. "All this time I thought I was just looking for my sister, but what I was really doing was searching for myself... who I am, where I fit in, what I hope to accomplish, what I want from life," he said, his eyes beginning to well up with tears. "And what is it that you want, Mulder?" she asked, her own eyes starting to mist over. Brushing his thumbs over her cheeks, he replied, "What I want is someone who I can love and who'll love me in return." Then he leaned in closer to her face, softly pressed his lips against hers and whispered, "What I want is *you*, Scully." ~~~~ Was this really happening? Was it over? After all this time, was he really ready to stop searching? What did he just say about wanting her? Suddenly she felt warm and dizzy and her heart was pounding and he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and if he didn't stop brushing her cheeks with his thumbs in about two seconds, she was certain her body would spontaneously combust right before his eyes. "Mull...derr...stop," she mumbled, somehow managing to push him away with her hands. "I...can't...breathe." "Then that...makes...two of us," he said, leaning in again and nuzzling his nose behind her ear. "Do you really want me to stop, Scully?" he asked, his mouth making its way around to the front of her neck. Did she want him to stop? Did she want to stop feeling the rush of electricity that was currently surging through every nerve in her body? Or did she want him right now as much as he wanted her? Slipping her arms underneath his, she pulled him as close to her as she could, then calmly replied, "Don't stop." ~~~~ "What did you say?" he asked, pushing her hair back and nibbling on her ear. Tilting her head to the side to give him better access, she replied, "I said I don't want you to stop." "That's good." He pulled the top of her shirt partway off her shoulder and kissed her collarbone. "Because I don't think I *can* stop..." he murmured as his fingers brushed across her breasts and over to her other shoulder. "Neither can I," she answered as she slid both of her hands underneath the sides of his damp sweatshirt and awkwardly began to pull it up and over his head. "Oomph..." he winced, immediately pulling away from her before she could get his shirt off and grabbing his left wrist. "What...what is it, Mulder?" she asked, instantly going from aroused woman mode to concerned doctor mode. "I guess my wrist didn't want to go the same direction as my shirt. Damn, that hurts," he said as he scrunched up his face and gingerly held his wrist against his stomach. He let out a puff of air, then bit his lip as Scully carefully lifted his arm away from his body and gently pressed on the slightly swollen area at the base of his hand. "I should've gotten some ice the moment you hurt yourself, Mulder," she said. Her soft touch was soothing, and he closed his eyes as she continued to lightly press on all sides of his wrist. Satisfied that it was just a sprain and not broken, she got up and headed out to the kitchen. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew she was right about the ice. He should've let her go to the kitchen when she had wanted to earlier. He'd certainly had his share of sprains over the years, and he knew how important it was to get ice on the injured area as soon as possible. Still, after what had just happened between them, he'd gladly put up with the pain he was in now. He had told her that he wanted her, and although she didn't come right out and say the words to him, her actions proved that she wanted him too. She wanted him. After all this time, after all they'd been through, and now to find out that she wanted their relationship to become something more just as much as he did...it was all so overwhelming. "Mulder? Hey Mulder, you okay?" she asked, startling him from his reverie. She sat down beside him and put a small washcloth filled with ice on his wrist and held it there. "I'm alright," he replied, although he was rather surprised to find that she had gone to the kitchen and gotten some ice without him even realizing she'd left. "When I came back into the room you looked really far away. What were you thinking about?" she asked, her voice sounding more curious than concerned. There was a time when he would've answered her with something witty or an "Oh nothing". But that was before. In the short time since he'd come to this house and she had joined him here, everything in his life felt completely different now, including the fact that he was no longer afraid to share his thoughts with her. Even his most personal ones. "I was thinking about making love to you," he answered bluntly. Almost instantly, a soft pink blush spread over her cheeks and down her neck, but instead of shying away from what he said, she found herself wanting to hear more. She scooted over a little closer to him on the couch and re-adjusted her hand over the towel of ice on his wrist. "Oh..." she said, comfortably resting her head against his shoulder. "There's no doubt in my mind about what would've happened between us earlier if I hadn't hurt my wrist," he stated with complete certainty. "I don't have any doubts either," she interjected, surprising herself with her own bluntness. He turned to her then and looked at her with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. "I know," he said in that hushed tone of voice that always gave her goose bumps. "But I'm glad that things happened this way...because now we really know for sure that it's what we both want," he added, kissing the top of her head and sending another rush of warmth down her arms and legs. Sensing the effect he was having on her, he kissed her again, this time slowly pressing his mouth on the side of her forehead. Her eyes closed the moment his lips made contact with her skin and her head began to swim with thoughts of what it would be like to feel him kiss her this tenderly on other parts of her body. "Mmmm...that feels good," she said, letting all the sensations she was feeling gently wash over her. "Us being together like this feels good, Scully...and I can't help thinking that maybe this was exactly how things were supposed to happen between us, you know?" He lifted her hand off of his wrist and placed the ice-filled towel on the small table next to the couch. Then he leaned back against the cushion and put his arm around her. Nudging her head into the crook of his arm, she draped her arm across his waist, and quietly replied, "I think you're right." Then she looked over at his wrist and remarked, "Looks like the ice helped. Your wrist doesn't look as swollen as before. How does it feel?" "Better than it did, but you know what would make me feel even better?" "What?" she asked, playfully tugging on the bottom of his shirt. "Some lunch." Just then, as if on cue, his stomach let out a loud growl. "Well, I did have something else in mind, but now that you mention it, I'm feeling kind of hungry myself," she stated, trying to hide her disappointment. She thought about the soup and salads that she had prepared for them earlier, before he had decided to tell her about Samantha, before he had run off to be alone. Before he had told her he wanted someone to love who would love him back... The fact that the soup was probably ice cold now and the toppings on the salad spoiled after being left out on the table for so long would've really bothered her if it had happened at some other time in their relationship. But things were different now. *She* was different now. She rubbed her hand across his leg. "Your clothes still feel a little wet. Why don't you go get cleaned up, and I'll make us some lunch." "And then afterwards, we can have dessert," he teased. Standing up and pulling her up off the couch with him, he drew her body into his and kissed her. It was soft and slow and deep, so deep that she felt it all the way down to her toes. "Maybe we should have dessert first," she said, finally coming up for air. He stroked her hair and smiled. "No, I think I'd like to have some lunch first. That way, we can really take our time and *savor* our dessert." And with those words, he gave her one last kiss on the cheek, then headed off to the bedroom. ~~~~ Mulder walked into his room, closed the door, and plopped onto the bed. His legs were tired from running, his clothes were still a bit damp, and his wrist was throbbing again. And yet he never felt happier. When he had come here yesterday, he was alone and confused and needing answers, and now he had them. Of course, there were some things in his life that he'd probably never completely understand about his family, but unlike before, he was willing to accept that fact. He had come here wanting to move forward with his life, and now he could. Now he could... Wiping the moisture from the corners of his eyes, he kicked off his shoes and looked over at the small black diary sitting on the nightstand. Maybe someday he would read his sister's words again and maybe someday he would share them all with Scully. But not now. Now he would simply leave the book on the shelf in her bedroom next to her favorite doll. And keep a place for her in his heart. "Mulder," she said, softly knocking on the door and slowly opening it at the same time. "Come on in, Scully." "Lunch is ready," she declared, walking over to his bed. "Hey, you haven't even changed your clothes yet. I thought you were hungry." "I was just thinking." "About what?" she asked, sitting down beside him. "About my family. About you." He brushed his hand across her cheek. "This *is* right for us now, isn't it?" he asked even though he already knew what her answer would be. "Yes," she replied without hesitation. Leaning in closer to her, he ran his fingertip over her lips and whispered, "Yes." She kissed him then, taking his hand and giving him a quick kiss on his knuckles. Then still holding onto his hand, she stood up from the bed and said, "Go get cleaned up, and come out to the kitchen when you're ready." She smiled, then added, "Of course, I can't promise you there'll be much food left by the time you get out there. I'm pretty hungry." He smiled back, then let go of her hand. "Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes." "I'll be waiting," she said, taking one last look at him before walking through the door. He watched her leave, then leaned over and picked up Samantha's diary. Running his fingers over the soft black cover, he closed his eyes and quietly said, "I hope you're happy now." Then gently setting it back down, he smiled to himself and said, "I am." ~end~ *This story is very special to me for reasons I'm sure you can understand now that you've read it. I started writing Emergence over four months ago, and now that I'm done with it, its words are with me still and will probably continue to be with me for quite some time. The emotions I felt for both Mulder and Scully as I told their story have touched me in ways I can't explain, and it is my hope that as you read my words your emotions were touched too. If you feel so inclined to write to me, I would very much like to hear from you. susanf@ticnet.com "The Prophet" is a beautifully written book by Kahlil Gibran that I highly recommend you read. You can find out more about it by going to www.amazon.com Reflections http://members.tripod.com/sfrankovich/index.html Stories by Susan http://www.geocities.com/filesfan34/