Title: I Surrender
Author: Anna Chait
Written: October 1997
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Category: R, A
Spoilers: At this point, who cares
Keywords: MSR
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not my creations. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Leaving the FBI and Dana Scully was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do....or so he thought. Eight years later, Mulder is a widower with a son, and a certain pair of blue eyes are haunting his dreams. Will he...Surrender?

October 12, 2006
Worcester, Massachusetts

Another birthday, another year of my life gone by, he thought to himself. It hadn't really been a happy year, but it would be fair to say it was a good year. He had completed another year teaching psychology courses at Boston University. Four more years to tenure. He enjoyed teaching more than he thought he would. After leaving the FBI he needed to work, and teaching psychology was the best he could come up with. It kept him away from things that were better left alone. Like UFO's and government conspiracies to cover up their existence, and plague carrying super-insects, and lovely redheaded FBI agents.

After his forced retirement from the bureau he took the necessary courses to obtain a teaching certificate and applied to several colleges in the New England area, determined to move on with his life. He decided on Boston, it being far enough away from DC for him to retain his anonymity and large enough a place to blend in. He traded in FBI Special Agent for Fox Mulder, Professor of Psychology.

Fall had always been his favorite time of the year. There was an energy about autumn that always sparked something in his spirit. He always found himself looking forward to the forced inactivity of the winter to come with some relief after the mad rush of summer's outdoor activities. A conundrum, really. Spring arrives, people "get busy". Spring cleaning, putting in a garden, all those things in preparation for summer. Summer is spent out of doors, after what in retrospect is always described as a "long cold winter". So we go outside, let mosquitoes eat us alive, but we're out there, enjoying the really great weather. Later it will be described as "unbearably hot and sticky". Then we put up the storm doors and button up for winter. We're always longing for what we don't have at the moment. Like beautiful redheads.....

Almost went a whole day, Mulder. One whole day without thinking about her, wondering where she was and if she was happy. Would there never be a day he didn't wonder, didn't miss her? Would the day ever come when he quit looking for her face in the street?

"You okay, Dad?"

He looked down at his son, dragged away from his thoughts and feeling some guilt that after all this time he still thought about her. She was at the top of his thoughts every day and in his mind when he fell asleep each night. He ruffled the boy's hair, grateful for his company today. Grateful he'd had the good sense to marry his mother and assume responsibility for him after her death. Marrying Katherine had provided him with the most satisfying relationship of his adult life, along with the opportunity to influence the life of her young son. He smiled up at him with her smile, her eyes. Mulder returned that smile, assuring him things were all right.

"Fine, Jason," he said, using that maddening lie that Scully always used on him. He turned his sport utility vehicle into the driveway of the eighty year old Victorian-style house they had come to live in four years ago. Jason carried in the groceries while Mulder got the mail. Bills, a couple of magazines, the usual collection of weekly advertisements from local merchants, and one odd envelope. No return address, a Maryland postmark.

"Dad, come quick. The Dean is on the news." The excited twelve-year-old yelled from the door. The mail was left untouched and forgotten as they laughed over the press conference given by the head of the psychology department at the University. Afterward, father and son went into the kitchen to work on dinner.

Jason's mother taught Mulder how to cook. She was a good cook, and she taught him what to eat, coming a bit closer to the healthy lifestyle she was determined he would have. Kate Hall had met Fox Mulder when he first began teaching at BU. She was a mathematician and they kept running into each other in the cafeteria. Noticing his less than healthy food choices, she began teasing him. They started lunching together every day, eventually progressing to dating and in less than eight months were married. He loved her and her seven-year-old son Jason, the joy of her life, and now Mulder's. They bought the house in Worcester, and began what they thought would be a long and happy life.

Mulder confided in Kate about his past. He told her about almost everything except his belief that this planet had been contacted by extraterrestrial biological entities. He had hoped to introduce that subject to her at a later time. But time was something Kate didn't have. She died a week before their second anniversary, the victim of a drunk driver.

It was constantly in the back of his mind that maybe he had failed at that relationship as well. Frequently reliving some of his time with Kate he had to wonder if she'd been really happy. He hoped so, he certainly tried. But his old buddy guilt kept him wondering.

Together, Kate and Fox Mulder had begun the process to have her son formally adopted by his new step-father. It wasn't until she was gone that the final papers came through. In her absence they had the celebration that had been planned. Together they took a big bouquet of flowers to her gravesite. Kate had loved flowers. Jason talked with his mother there, thanking her for leaving him in such capable hands, telling her tearfully about the things they had done together since she had been gone. They cried again together and the grief was a powerful bond.

Kate had given him so much. After the heartbreak of having to leave Dana Scully behind, he was sure he'd never love again; not like he loved Scully. She was a part of him, understood him like no one else. But she just wasn't willing or able to let him in for some reason. It wasn't a matter of trust with her, it seemed more a matter of surrender; surrender of control. She wasn't willing to surrender anything of herself to be with him.

Not that he was in any way an expert on such matters then. He still considered himself a novice at relationships. All he knew was that he loved her beyond anything he'd ever known. She was the light in his life; but every light cast a shadow. His idealistic mind said that he'd been willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, lay down his life for her, and it didn't seem to be enough or really matter. All she could see was that he'd taken control away from her, made decisions that were not his to make.

Maybe she was right. Leaving her was the hardest thing he had ever done, but because he loved her he had to let her go. That pain was a knot in his heart, a dark place that hurt all the time. It was only when he met Kate that that place began to hurt less. Kate didn't know anything about conspiracies or UFO's; she was a mathematician. A brilliant mathematician. And she had this really terrific kid.

It was a challenge at first. He had to talk to Jason. He couldn't depend on Jason to know what he was thinking or feeling. It was necessary to stop and take the time to tell him. This communication skill was something he'd lacked until then. Trying to be a good father to Jason had helped him open up to his own feelings and failings. His relationship with Kate and her son had allowed him to concentrate on something that was real and might make a difference. Something that would have tangible results. It wasn't the first time in his life he had acted selflessly, but it was the first time his selflessness didn't endanger his own life. He loved Jason as if he were his own son, as if he had known him all of his short twelve years.

It seemed possible now that he might find some semblance of normality. The only problem was, his dreams. He never told Kate about these dreams. They were just little pieces of things that didn't connect or make any sense. People he knew doing the things that people do, but they were always being observed by a pair of icy crystal blue eyes. These eyes hovered over his dreams, sometimes that was all he saw. It wasn't disturbing, really. He knew whose eyes they were. No point in upsetting Kate with it.

Unlike Scully, Kate had been willing to surrender everything to him. She was a passionate, open woman and with her quiet understanding had allowed him to love again. She took his hand and patiently guided him back to the real world, away from the dark places he'd submerged himself into at the FBI. She helped him through his feelings for his lost sister to the point where he could think of her and smile. Every day he thanked God for placing her in his path, for the bad eating habits that drew them together in the beginning. He loved Kate in a different way than he'd ever loved before, and sometimes he felt guilty that he didn't feel about her the way he felt about Dana.

"Come on Jason, dinner's ready."

"Are we going to the football game tomorrow?" he asked, trying to stuff an entire hard roll into his mouth.

"Slow down, boy. You'll choke. Yes, I got tickets and we're going. Did you ask Kenny if he wanted to go?" Kenny and Jason seemed inseparable. Best friends, what a concept. He sat back and happily watched his son devour the spaghetti dinner they had prepared together. He spent as much time as possible with Jason, realizing that in too short a time he would be grown, wanting a life of his own. Life was too short, it went too fast. The cherubic seven-year old was an energetic twelve-year-old, perched on the edge of puberty. Then he'd be off to college.....okay, stick with today, Mulder. Let the future take care of itself.

"Yeah. He's gonna come with us."

Jason's hair fell into his face every time he bent over and raised the fork to his mouth. He was the image of his mother; dark auburn hair, big green eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across his long straight nose. His smile was infectious and genuine. He was a great kid and his father loved him now more than he ever dreamed possible. Funny how assuming responsibility for the boy had been so easy for him after carefully avoiding this kind of thing his whole life.

The day of the game was chilly, perfect football weather. They ate hot dogs and popcorn and had a great time, even though their team lost. As they were leaving the stadium, Mulder caught a glimpse of another flame haired woman. Get over it, professor, he chastised himself. It's not her, it's never going to be her. But just as he began to walk away she turned. And his eyes locked with hers and his unreliable senses failed him, leaving him standing alone and face to face with Dana Scully.

He quickly considered some witty opening lines, then heard her voice in his head. Heard every word as though it were an hour ago and not eight years, ending with "and I never want to see or speak with you again." Granting her request the very next day, determined that whatever she wanted he had to do, he resigned from the FBI. It was what "they" had wanted all along, and now he was forced by his partner to take an action that he would regret every moment of his existence. But not because he had made a mistake, rather because it was the only thing he had left to give her after the pain he had caused her during their five year partnership.

Still determined that he had done the right thing, he smiled at her and slowly turned away, taking his son's hand and leaving in the direction he had come. Jason was too busy with his friend to notice his father's hand shaking, too excited about the day to ask about his dad's quietness during dinner that evening, and too tired to hear the muffled sobs over the noise of the shower.

Sitting alone in the living room after Jason had gone to bed, he clutched the neck of the beer he'd been nursing for half an hour and thought about his last days at the FBI. That things had played out so badly was the only regret of his life.

What had started out as an attempt to save her life had ended with her tossing him out on his ass. Actually, he left quietly, but at her insistence. He and Skinner, the old Assistant Director, had conceived a plan to fake Agent Mulder's suicide and bargain for the cure for Scully's cancer. At first it seemed he had "died" for nothing, but in the end the cure was delivered up in time to save her life. Just barely, and like a fool he had presented himself to Scully, expecting to be welcomed a hero, slightly tarnished, but forgiven in the end. Whatever he had done had been done for her and surely she would see that the end had justified the means.

But she hadn't. In fact, she was furious. She had screamed at him, said some terrible, heartbreaking things. Things he couldn't deny. In his search for the truth so many people had been hurt or killed. Her life was a wreck, her sister dead, and for what? The final straw had been putting her through the hell of his death. It was more than she could bear.

He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying not to hear her angry words, seeing her in slow motion telling him to get out of her life. He tried to shake off the feeling he'd had since he'd seen her earlier that afternoon, looking as beautiful as ever. He stood for a long time in the shower, letting the hot water beat down on his neck and shoulders. He hadn't cried in a long time, really cried, not since Kate died. But he needed to now. Seeing Scully let loose a tide of feelings in him, things he didn't want to feel again. Like loneliness and regret. Seeing her again had knocked him to the ground, metaphorically speaking. It frightened him she still had that power over him.

Leaves blew into drifts against the fences in the yard of their large corner lot. After coffee and some time spent at the basketball hoop, they began raking. Soon, 8 large garbage bags were lined up along the curb and they were tired and hungry. During the first quarter of the Packers game, Mulder put a pot roast in the oven. It was an easy meal for him, everything cooked in one pot. At half-time he remembered they had no milk and decided to go down to the market.

When he returned, Jason informed him that the Packers had blown it and were losing.

"What happened?" he asked, putting down the bags as Jason rooted around in them. Just once he'd like to find twinkies or ho-ho's hiding in a bag of groceries.

"Fumbled the ball. Hey, you got an apple pie! Oh, there was someone here to see you while you were gone."

"Really? Who?" he asked. He knew who he hoped it was.

"It was a woman....a real pretty woman. So, dad, you didn't tell me you knew any women that pretty."

I know how pretty she is, what did she say? He realized he'd been holding his breath and tried to breathe normally. "Did she say anything? Like her name?"

He looked at his father, an amused look on his face. "No, she didn't tell me her name. But she did say she used to work with you. When I told her you weren't here, she just smiled and said she would try another time."

Mulder stared at his son, as if there might be more.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

He laughed, the tension broken. "Are you sure you're only twelve? How is it that you see right through me like that. Just like your mom."

"Yeah, mom was good at that wasn't she? Sometimes you didn't even have to talk to her, she knew." He ducked his head, averting his eyes.

Mulder reached out and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. He was going to be tall, at 12 only a head shorter than himself. "Missin' your mom, Jason?"

He lowered his eyes to the floor, then back up to his father. "Yeah. It's the pot roast. Mom always made pot roast on Sundays while we watched football, remember?"

Love swelled in his chest and made him pull the boy to him and hug him. He smiled and blinked back tears when he felt Jason's arms tighten around his waist. "I miss her too, Jas. Neither of us got enough time with her, did we?"

"No."

He'd only had three years; Jason only nine. But those three years were the best of his life. The only time in his life he'd come close to being really happy.

Over dinner they talked about their schedules for the next week. It was a school holiday on Friday and they had planned to take the long weekend at the house in Quonochontaug. The house his mother had left to him.

Jason really liked being there and they went often. When he was a boy, the Mulder's had used it as a summer house, but Fox used it year round. They kept a sailboat there and spent their time either in the back bay or out on the open sea. Jason liked to fish and Mulder liked to sail.

"We should probably get the boat into dry dock for the winter." he mentioned over another piece of apple pie.

"Yeah. Listen, Dad. I want you to know something," he said, looking up at his father with a serious expression.

Mulder nodded, indicating that he continue. "If there is a woman that you want to see....to date, I mean....I think you should. Mom wouldn't want you to be alone."

Mulder nearly swallowed his fork. "What gave you the idea that I was interested in dating?"

"Well," he said, considering the evidence. "I've seen the way your students look at you, the girls, you know?"

"And, just how do they look at me?"

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to come up with a description for something he wasn't really sure he understood yet. "I don't know, kind of like you were ice cream with chocolate sauce?"

Mulder laughed before explaining that he didn't consider dating students a good idea at all. This kid was something else. Intuitive and bright, not to mention articulate.

"But if there was someone, if someone did come along, I just want you to know that I think it's a good idea. Don't feel guilty or anything because of me."

"Whose the psychologist here, you or me?" he asked, picking up his dish and putting it in the dishwasher with the rest of the dinner things. "Thanks, Jason. I'm glad you told me. But, there really isn't anyone."

"Okay, Dad." But there could be. That lady with the red hair sure did make him act weird.

The Mulder Summer House
Quonochontaug, Rhode Island

It was a crystal clear day on the bay. A bit late in the season, but still, a few intrepid souls braved the heavy surf. They took the boat out one last time before winter came. With a brisk wind they cut through the water sharply, skittering easily out to sea. After a few hours in the clear, cold sea air, they went in to begin dismantling the sail at the little private dock. Mulder caught a car out of the corner of his eye. It stopped in the drive, but no one got out. He had a bad feeling about it and suddenly wished he had a gun.

But the door eventually opened. From this distance all he could make out was.....red hair. Not today. Not now.

"Keep working on the sail, Jas. Someone's just driven up."

Jason looked up to see his dad walking purposefully across the leaf covered yard. He caught the flash of red hair in the afternoon sun and smiled. He had no idea who this woman was, but she sure made him nervous.

As he got closer, he slowed his pace, stopping about five feet from her as though she were protected by some sort of force field and he was afraid to venture further. She was still a knockout. She wore jeans and a bulky turtleneck sweater. Boots with heels made her a little taller. Her hair was cut short, much shorter than he remembered her wearing. When she removed her sunglasses those icy blue eyes smiled at him. Only the lines around her eyes betrayed her years. Scully would be what, about....42 now?

"Hello, Mulder," she said, her voice deep and even.

"Scully.....how are you?" he managed to croak out, removing his sunglasses. Clever opening, Mulder.

Neither made any move to close the gap between them. A tentative awareness of the passage of time and the changes it had brought kept them rooted to the ground where they stood. Scully smiled at him. God, that smile always worked magic on him.

"I'm....okay. You?"

"Okay," he said, looking away. Staring at her caused channels of memory to open to him. Painful memories mixing with pleasurable ones. The silence stretched awkwardly between them until finally, Scully spoke.

"Listen, I saw you at the game last week. Why didn't you speak to me?"

His brow furrowed and his mouth twisted up in confusion. He heard again in his head her emotional plea to get out of her life. What was she here for? What did she want from him?

"You came all the way to Rhode Island to ask me that?" he asked, disbelieving. "I couldn't. I thought it was what you wanted. I stayed away, just as you asked."

She could see the confusion in his eyes, and the pain. "I think it was for the best, but eight years is long enough, Mulder. Too long." It was Scully who moved first, taking the three steps that brought her within arm's length of him. Looking up into his eyes, searching for something she hoped to find, she opened her arms to him.

Well, he thought, we *were* partners for five years. Close friends as well. Hell, I loved this woman. The least I can do is hug her. Intending only to give her a brief , polite hug, he bent down, allowing her arms to circle his neck. But the feel of Scully after so long broke his resolve. He folded her into his arms, tightening his embrace, lifting her off the ground. It felt so good to hold her, to touch her. He held her to him tightly, enjoying the comfort he had always found in her touch, then reluctantly returned her feet to the ground.

"It's good to see you Scully," he said, staring down into her blue eyes. Her arms had slid down his, resting at his elbows. Her shining eyes returned his smile and a tear or two collected at the corners in her lashes. Pure instinct caused him to reach out and wipe them away, still smiling. So many times he'd wanted to comfort her like this and she hadn't let him. He'd seldom seen her cry. She never let him in, close to her heart. Those barriers she erected stood tall and strong until he day she'd dismissed him from her life.

"You're looking good, Mulder. This is nice..," she said, her fingers reaching to his temples, touching the gray that had appeared there to blend with his light brown hair. He wore it longer than he had as Agent Mulder. But his eyes were the same. They had always betrayed his thoughts. Mulder's eyes gave him away every time. Now they looked away before she could see anything else.

"Why don't you come in. Let me get you something to drink. Some tea?" he asked, hoping to hide behind the duties of a polite host giving him time to collect and analyze his feelings.

"That would be nice." She followed him into the house, remembering his family's summer house from long ago. When she had been in the house before, it had that closed up look and smell. Now it was definitely inhabited. There were pictures on the walls, sweaters hung from hooks behind the door. The pleasant smell of coffee left from breakfast drifted to her nose. Mulder loved his coffee. There was a basketball in the corner and newspapers stacked on the coffee table next to several textbooks on mathematics. She accepted his offer of a cup of tea and inspected the many photographs while she waited for him to return. Through the window she could see the young boy she had spoken to last weekend. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to say, and no idea where or how to begin.

"So, here you are," he said, setting her cup down on the coffee table and sitting beside her. "What are you doing here Scully."

She picked up her cup, blowing on the hot liquid before sipping. "I...I moved to Boston. I recently accepted the position of Chief Coroner for the city . My brother Charlie lives there now. His oldest boy plays for BU. I went to the game to watch my nephew play, and I ran into you."

"Yes, I was there with.....but how did you find me?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I used to work for the FBI, remember? You weren't that hard to find." If only he knew how she had to plead with Byers and Frohike. They didn't even want to talk to her.

His eyes narrowed, cutting straight to the chase, he posed the question they both needed an answer to. "But why would you look? Why bother at all?"

"Blunt, but to the point, as always," she said, almost to herself and sat back in her seat. "I said things that I didn't mean.....I shouldn't have.....it's been bothering me how things ended."

From the corner of his eye, Mulder saw Jason approaching the house. Standing quickly he went to the door and opened it. "Come on in, Jason. There's someone here I'd like you to meet."

Jason entered, smiling when he saw the pretty red-haired woman again.

"Jason, this is Scul...Dr. Dana Scully," he stopped, suddenly realizing that it might not be Scully anymore. Maybe she was married. He looked back at her, the question in his eyes. "Scully?"

"Yes, it's still Dr. Scully," she said, rising to take the hand that the young man extended. Good looking kid, she thought.

"Dr. Scully and I were partners in the FBI. She's just come to work in Boston."

Jason's eyes lit up and he pumped Scully's hand excitedly. "Wow! Dad's told me about some of the cases you worked on. Cool stuff."

Dad? Had she heard that correctly? Dad?

"This is my son, Scully," he offered no explanation beyond that, preferring not to get into a lengthy explanation in front of Jason. It would have to wait.

"Well, Jason," she managed to stammer out, her heart beating fast. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

It never occurred to her that Mulder might be married. Well what did you expect, you fool, that he'd be out here in the woods pining away for you after all this time? Get over yourself, Dana.

"Yes, a pleasure. I saw you and your Dad at the BU game last weekend. We didn't get a chance to talk. We sort of....lost track of each other."

"Yeah, it was Dad's birthday. I took him out for pizza after the game."

Dana noticed how Mulder smiled at the boy, how his arm slipped around his shoulders proudly. Where did Mulder get a teenage son?

"Listen, I'll get out of your way so you guys can talk. I just wanted to know if I should call Mr. Leery to come help us with the boat. I'm not sure you and I can handle it alone."

"Sure. Ask him to come about 4:30."

Jason turned his attention back to Dana. "Nice to meet you Dr. Scully. I hope I'll get to talk to you about the X-Files some time.""

He shook her hand again, then slipped quietly outside.

"Mulder, where.....how did you get a teen age son?"

He looked at her and laughed. "And you thought I never dated, huh? I married his mother. He was seven when we met. He's tall for his age I guess. He's just turned twelve." And isn't he the sly one, setting her up for a return visit so he can talk to her.

Scully swallowed hard, then sat down. "You're married?"

Well that was an interesting reaction! You pinned her with Jason. Look at her, she's a wreck. Let her off the hook, old man. Perhaps.....nah!

"We were married almost two years when Kate was in a terrible car accident..." he stopped and looked out the window again. "I adopted Jason. His biological father was a complete jerk. Imagine not wanting a really great kid like that."

She seemed to be having difficulty breathing for a moment. Mulder, a widower with a son? Well, this was not at all what she had expected, but it did seem to suit him. He seemed.......content. And she had been worrying about him, wondering where he was and if he was happy. Needlessly, it seemed. He was a survivor, always had been.

Scully suddenly felt she'd had enough for one day. It was enough that she had seen him and satisfied her guilty heart that he wasn't pining away somewhere. She should have remembered that Mulder could usually take care of himself. He'd even been able to come back from the dead, and on more than one occasion. Now that she had seen him, she needed to get away and absorb what she was feeling. Maybe now she'd stop having those dreams.

"Well, I should be going, Mulder. It's getting late," she said quietly, putting her cup down on the table in front of her.

"Going? But you've only just come. I'd like to talk about...." He stopped. If that's all she wanted was to check up on him, fine. Go away now, Scully, before I need you too much again.

"We'll talk again, Mulder. I really do need to be going, I have a moving truck coming bright and early tomorrow. Here, let me give you my number..," she said, pulling a card from her pocket. In crisp black letters on a fancy white card with the official seal of the State of Massachusetts he read, "Dr. Dana K. Scully, Chief Coroner."

He walked behind her to her car and waited while she got in. "I'll call you," she said, looking up at him. Still in control, Scully.

She sat perfectly still, staring at him out the window as he moved away from the car. She was confused. When she came here today, she had told herself it was just to check on him. Find out what he'd been doing. But now that she'd seen him, that wasn't the reason at all. He'd never been gone from her heart for a moment in eight years. He was a part of her life, and she'd only just begun to realize it. Now that she'd touched him, letting him go was out of the question.

He flashed her that silly Mulder smile, raising his brows in the middle, and waved at her as she backed away. By the time she reached her new apartment in the city she realized just how much she had missed her old partner. She ached for his presence in her life again. It was what had drawn her to the city of Boston to begin with. She bitterly regretted the cruel indictments she had screamed at him in a fit of uncontrolled rage, and had no one but herself to blame when he took her at her word and exited her life as quietly and gracefully he could.

For a while she thought maybe it was best left alone. Why open old wounds? Then the dreams started. In the beginning just disconnected thoughts, strange but seemingly harmless. Then the dreams changed, taking on an odd surrealism that bothered her. Then she began having nightmares about him. Sleeping became the nightmare. Something had to be done.

She had gone to the Lone Gunmen to find him. They were leery of her at first. Their loyalty to their old friend Mulder was admirable, and she'd had to plead with them to tell her where he was. But that was all they would tell her ** his location. It had taken her only two days after arriving in Boston to work up the courage to see him.

Mulder household
Worcester, Mass.

That forgotten envelope had been a letter from Byers informing him that Dana Scully had been inquiring about him. Byers seemed to think that her interest was personal and not professional.

So, Mulder. After all this time, Dana Scully has a personal interest in you? If it were only true. What if it were? Would we be any good for each other now? Were we ever any good together?

Yes. They had been good. They were the best thing the FBI ever had and they were too stupid to acknowledge it. The X-Files record was unimpeachable, but the conspiracy that surrounded and controlled it was too much for them to handle. After Assistant Director Skinner's death things had been exposed and revealed. He had read that there were major shakeups in several branches of the government that coincided with Walter's death. But nothing about Dana Scully. He had to respect her wishes. He had to let her go, let her heal and try to have a life even if it broke him. He loved her enough to let her go. She would never know this, however, because he had never told her.

She had never really revealed her true purpose for going to Quonochontaug. She'd had to do some sleuthing to find him though, it was no coincidence. She wanted to find him.

It was another week before she called again. They made a date to meet and talk. She had wanted to go out, but it was a school night and he preferred to be home with Jason. Scully had to admire his devotion to his son and agreed to come for dinner.

Jason let her in and took her coat. Mulder's home was wonderful, a big rambling Victorian with a wrap around porch. She noted with amusement that there was a basketball hoop over the garage, and yet another ball in the hallway. Mulder always did like the "round ball" as he called it. He greeted her with a hug and saw her seated in the living room with a glass of wine while he finished quickly in the kitchen.

Some things never changed. As she remembered from his apartment and their office, there was an eclectic mix of reading material strewn around the room. On the coffee table, several reference books by Carl Jung. Beside them, psychology periodicals. On the table between the big chairs that stood in front of the fireplace were magazines with a decidedly X-File theme to them, UFO sightings, crop circles and the like. Back issues of The Fortean Times were stacked on the shelves beside Hoop, the official Magazine of the NBA. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves contained medical textbooks and reference manuals, and a surprising amount of material devoted to mathematics. They had belonged to the beautiful woman in the pictures.

The mantle held pictures of Mulder and his family, taken both before and after the death of Kate. Katherine Hall, Professor of Mathematics at BU. Kate Hall held a doctorate in Mathematics, Quantum Mechanics to be precise. She had done her master's thesis on quantum theory then gone on to teach something called Ethnomathematics at NYU before coming to Boston. That much she'd been able to find out on her own. She hoped Mulder would tell her the rest.

Jason returned to the room to sit and talk with her. Just as he was explaining to her about the eighth grade, Mulder announced that dinner was ready. Scully helped him get the bowls to the table and they enjoyed a wonderful meal of baked chicken and fresh vegetables. Jason was interested to learn that his dad had been a junk food junkie in his younger days. Mulder was a fanatic about proper nutrition for Jason, but occasionally sneaked a burger for himself.

After dinner they sat in the living room enjoying coffee, helping Jason with some last minute homework. He excused himself after hugging Mulder and wishing them a goodnight.

"I cannot get over it, Mulder. Of all the situations I've seen or imagined you in, father of the year just wasn't in there."

He laughed nervously. "I'm not even close to father of the year material. We're still working out how to live without Kate...." he stopped. Perhaps Scully didn't want to hear about her. But when she put her hand on his arm, he accepted her silent permission and continued.

"It's been two years. She died instantly. Even now I'm hesitant to let Jason ride in anyone's car but mine."

Dana reached out to him again. "I'm so sorry, Mulder....you know that doesn't seem to fit you anymore. Perhaps now you'll let me call you Fox?"

He smiled at her, hiding his eyes. "Only if I can call you Dana," he said, raising his eyes to judge her reaction.

"You always had my permission to call me by my name. You just never did."

"Well, I think I'm comfortable with that arrangement. Enough about me, what have you been up to all this time."

"No, I'm not finished yet. I glad you found someone to make you happy, Fox," she said, trying it out. It was different, but not bad. "I'm so sorry about the way things turned out. Really, I am."

He accepted her apology. They continued to talk about the eight years that had gone by, Scully explaining how she came to leave the FBI. She had expected to see him at Skinner's funeral, scanned the crowd over and over hoping to see him.

"Without him, it just wasn't right." She looked into his eyes, thinking without *you* it wasn't right, and without Skinner it was intolerable. "I left, worked for several cities on the west coast as coroner. But when the Boston job came up, I jumped at it."

Because of me, Dana? Say it was because of me, he thought.

"And you know the rest. I've only been here a few weeks."

He took her hand from her lap and held it in his. He was so glad to be here with her, glad she bothered to look. What the hell, take a risk. Tell her!

"I'm glad you found me. So, where do we go from here, Dana?"

"How about we work on being friends again?" she asked, trying to avoid his eyes and retrieve her hand.

"Friends? Is that what you really want?" he asked, raising her chin with his fingers forcing her to look him in the eye.

"I don't know what I want...that's the problem," she said, trying to move away from him. She was suddenly breathing hard and really scared. What she wanted at this moment was to get away.

Mulder inhaled, and stood. He stepped away from the couch and her, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. For a minute there he thought...

"All right."

"We were friends, weren't we? I need a friend right now, and I was hoping it would be you." She spoke quietly, her eyes bent to her lap and her tightly folded hands.

He supposed he could do that. They had been the best of friends, seen each other through some hard times. So, if a friend was what she needed, maybe this was the only thing left for him.

"Okay. I think I can do that. Just tell me something, you're not in trouble or anything, are you? There aren't people with guns chasing you are there?"

She chuckled. That was the old Mulder. Diffuse an emotional confrontation with humor. "No, no men with guns. I think the kind of trouble I'm in is right up your alley. Just be my friend, Fox."

She stood and waited for him to retrieve her coat. He walked with her to her car and waited while she warmed it up.

"Dinner was terrific. Next time, I'll cook. Thank you. You don't know.....well, just thanks. Call me, all right?"

Their eyes locked and held. He wasn't sure what any of that meant. What was this evening about, anyway?

Their next meeting was mid-week for lunch in a favorite restaurant of Mulder's. She was late, and apologized. After she had ordered and he had time to really look at her, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the lines deepening in her forehead. Perhaps she was sick-oh, God! Not the cancer again.

"No, it's not that. I haven't been sleeping well, that's all. It will pass."

But she knew it wouldn't. Sleep had become her enemy. The violence in the dreams was escalating. Horrible things were happening to him. What did it mean?

She called him on Thursday and asked to see him again. She said she would like to cook for them, but her apartment just wasn't livable yet. He readily offered his kitchen, if she was game.

"Well, I think I can manage that. Perhaps we could get together Saturday afternoon and do some shopping for dinner? I mean, if you're not tied up."

"No, I'm not. And Jason would love to have you. He's done nothing but talk about you."

He was glad Jason seemed to like her. It would break his heart if after all this time he had a chance with Dana Scully and Jason couldn't deal with it. His feelings for Dana ran deep, but his sense of responsibility for Jason's happiness would surely outweigh....but that won't be a problem. In fact, Jason sensed that Dana really liked him. From the first day.

Jason wasn't home when Dana arrived to take Fox shopping. He had decided to spend the weekend with his friend Kenny, hoping to get out of his father's way in case. In case of what, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he saw how they looked at each other. He knew there was something.

After a quick shopping trip, together they whipped up a delicious pasta dish with big shrimp and hot Italian bread. Mulder was impressed. Scully had never cooked for him, unless you could call a grilled cheese sandwich cooking. He had always assumed she could cook, because she too made fun of his fast-food tastes.

They finished off a bottle of wine, then moved to the living room with another. They sat in front of the fire and played scrabble.

"How come we never did this before?" she asked.

"Did what? Play scrabble? Probably afraid I'd whip your ass." And a nicer one I'll never find.

"No. We never shared a bottle or wine, or cooked for each other."

He pulled his legs from under him, stretching his lean six-foot frame out, leaning back on his elbows. "Too busy, I guess. A shame, too. Seems like we wasted a lot of opportunities back then."

"Yes, I think we did," she said, suddenly very tired. She wondered if she'd had too much wine, and maybe the room was a little hot from the fire. She decided to stretch out beside him, the scrabble game forgotten.

Instinct and familiarity made him reach under her head, allowing her to rest on his shoulder. It was comfortable for Scully being so near him now.

"It wasn't all bad, you know. I let you shoulder the burden for everything bad that ever happened to us and it wasn't fair and it wasn't right. I've been worrying that I'd ruined you life with all the guilt I heaped on your head."

Ah, there it was. This was why she had sought him out. To confess. Now it was her turn to feel guilty. He hugged her shoulder and leaned his head over a little, resting it on hers, feeling her silky hair against his cheek. There was no point in letting her beat herself up any longer over this. Life was too short for all this grief.

"You didn't ruin my life, Dana. Yeah, I had some pretty bad years, but I got on after a while. I think, though, there's something you should know."

He stopped, weighing his options at this point. He could just shut up, let her say her peace and go home; or, he could risk is all by telling her a truth she might not like. Aw, just jump on in, professor.

"When you came up to the house in Rhode Island that day, I was never in my life so happy to see someone - and so scared, all at the same time."

"Scared?" she asked, sitting up, crossing her legs Indian style.

"Yes. It's surely not news to you that during those years we worked together I had feelings for you that went beyond the partnership," he said softly, rolling to his side and sitting up on one elbow. "Anyway, back then it seemed it might not be the best thing to act on those feelings. It might have endangered us further."

"And now?"

He smiled. "Well....look, Dana, I don't want to just be your friend. I look at you and I think to myself, why hasn't this gorgeous woman married some wonderful guy who would make her happy and had a bunch of kids, and I can't come up with a good answer."

"Neither can I," she replied, having to look away. His gaze was intense. Almost too intense for her. Don't blow it now, Dana. Tell him what you want. "No. That's not true. The truth is that none of them were...you."

That was a surprise. He tried very hard not to react badly, kept his voice low and level, to let her finish before he moved. "Me? I thought you wanted me out of your life. That's what you told me, that I had ruined your life and you didn't want to see me anymore."

"But it wasn't true," she responded quickly. "I was angry-so angry with you for letting me think you were dead. I thought I had lost you forever. And mixed up in there was the fact that I had lost all control over my life. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Oh, yeah. You're a control freak, Dana. I always knew that'swhat kept you closed off from me, from my attempts to draw you close and get into your heart. I just hoped...," he said, folding his arms behind his head and lying back against the pillows. If she was going to break his heart again he might as well be prostrate to begin with.

Poor, Mulder, she thought. He's pulling in, preparing for a kiss off. Look at him, his body language. His hands are hidden and he's moved as far away from me as he can without getting up and walking away.

"Always knew, huh? Well here's something you don't know. I've been dreaming about you. Started about a month ago. At first they were just bits of unrelated events, scenes from what might have been the past, I'm not exactly sure anymore. But they've escalated into full blown nightmares now. I keep seeing horrible things happening to you....I don't want to sleep anymore."

No wonder she had those dark circles under her eyes. He knew all about nightmares. About being so tired and scared out of your mind you might rather die than sleep.

"It scares me to death, these things I see happening to you. What in the hell is going on in my head, Mulder?" she asked, and he seemed to think she was genuinely afraid.

He put on his best neutral face and tried to drum up some psychological buzzwords for her, some explanation about dreams that might put her at her ease.

"You know, it's been said that dreams are little hidden doors into our innermost souls. Perhaps you still resent me, and your subconscious is taking it out on me in your dreams."

She rolled her eyes, knowing that he was wearing his "Dr." Mulder hat now, trying to offer some psychological insight. "I don't still resent you, that can't possibly be the reason."

"Dreams are supposed to be impartial, spontaneous products of the unconscious, outside the control of our will. They are pure, natural truth."

She cocked her head, trying to judge whether he believed any of what he just said.

He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Carl Gustave Jung. But even he said it might be bullshit." And if her nocturnal torture sessions were the product of any resentment she still harbored, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"All right, but what do you believe?" she asked.

"I don't know. Sometimes in dreams it's the small detail that is important. Or, maybe they're just your brain trying to get your attention. Maybe it's the only way your subconscious mind has of getting you to listen. But more importantly, why is you subconscious mind trying to get your attention in the first place?" This was the sixty-four thousand dollar question, and maybe now he'd get an answer as to why she had dropped back into his life.

Of course. He nailed on the first try. In true Dana Scully style, she folded her arms across her chest and launched into her theory. "My best guess is that I've been repressing my feelings for you for so long that it's become unhealthy for me. So my unconscious mind, having only my best interests at heart, has forced me to face up to myself." She spoke as if he might not even be in the room any longer. Her analysis of the situation seemed to be correct in her own mind, and in the end that's what counted when trying to decipher dreams.

"So you decided to get in touch with me and apologize, and see that I wasn't languishing away? Ease your conscience a bit? And why do you have to repress your feelings about me?" There was just the tiniest trace of hurt in his voice now despite his efforts to remain emotionless.

She snapped her head up, and looked at him. She'd been so absorbed in her epiphany over the dreams and how to solve them, she'd almost forgotten that the subject of her nightmares was only two feet away.

"No, no."

"Listen, you just can't walk in here tell me you've been repressing feelings about me all these years, get a little free psychoanalysis and disappear."

She reached out to him, laying her hand reassuringly on his chest. "No, that's not what I want at all."

"Just what do you want? Tell me, Dana. Tell me now what it is you want from me." he implored, his voice rising indignantly.

"I want you, Fox. I've always wanted you. And not just as my friend. It's not too late, is it?" Wooo wee! Cat's out of the bag now Dana.

His conflicting emotions were getting the best of him. If there was ever going to be a moment for them, this was it. She had to commit here and now. And if what she said was true, God help him.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her close, hesitating long enough to guage her reaction. When she didn't pull away, he pulled her closer, one arm around her waist, the other behind her head, balancing her in his arms. Still he waited for her to stop him. Instead, obeying a will more powerful that her own, she wound her arms around him and moved her mouth close to his, her breath mingling with his and whispered, "Kiss me, Fox."

His lips moved over hers roughly. She was surprised, but not frightened. She wanted this now and nothing would stand in her way. Dana realized he was testing her, and she gave as good as she got. It was a wild kiss, full of years of repressed desire. His body moved hers as close as he could get her and his mouth assaulted hers. Lips, teeth, tongues clashed and moved on. Her hands found their way around his body, enjoying the feel of him, the strong shoulders and lean swimmer's frame. The strain of the past month diminished. Her sleep deprived body relaxed completely into him. She tasted wine and something else that was dark and sweet. She tasted what she knew was the essence of Fox Mulder.

And then she felt a change in him. What had at first been an impatient need cooled. Roughness was replaced by tenderness, his actions slowed. His lips moved to her face, kissing her cheeks, nipping at her ears. He released his hold on her, lying her down on the carpet and stretched out beside her, and when he held his arms out she came willingly to him this time. His heart's desire had been granted, and it was enough for this moment to hold her. One hand stroked up and down her back, soothing her, the other held her tight around her shoulders. Her head was tucked under his chin and her body curled against his. In mere moments he realized that she had fallen asleep. He chuckled. If she was correct about the reason for her nightmares and sleeplessness, maybe now she could get some rest and find some peace.

It took her a while to remember why she was sleeping on the floor. Without a pillow or a blanket to alleviate any discomfort, she had slept well for the first time in weeks.

The first thing she noticed was that it was cold in the room. When she opened her eyes, she realized why. The fire had gone out long ago. Daylight was peeping thought the drapes. She raised her head to see the sleeping man beside her. His hair had fallen into his eyes, and she reached up to push it away, taking advantage of this time to thoroughly examine his face.

>From the moment she laid eyes on him in his basement office she had thought that Fox Mulder was an exceptionally attractive man. In keeping with the unfairness of things where men and women are concerned, he had only gotten better looking. Time had not degraded his handsome features. His broad forehead gave way to a fair amount of eyebrow, then silky lashes that rested softly against his cheeks in sleep. She let one finger trail down his long, noble nose to his lips. His wide, generous mouth and that luscious lower lip drew her to him. His cheeks were covered in stubble and her lips moved from his to that mole that had always fascinated her.

His eyes fluttered open and looked down at her. "Hi."

She rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows beside him. "Good morning," she said, almost in a whisper, smiling into his sleepy hazel eyes, then leaning close to him to kiss him again.

"Did you sleep?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

She nodded.

"No bad dreams?"

She moved her head side to side.

"Good," he said, trying to sit up.

"I didn't say I didn't dream," she said while pushing him back playfully. "Want to hear what I dreamt about Dr. Mulder?"

"All right." He drew out the last word and relaxed back onto the floor.

"I was on a beach in the Caribbean. It was hot, sea breeze blowing, I was drinking a margarita," she told him, relaying the facts in the style of a Raymond Chandler novel.

"Funny, isn't it, the seemingly unimportant detail that your mind will fixate on?"

"Wait...there's more. I had on a big hat and a white bathing suit. There were steel drums playing in the background." She stopped for a moment, realizing that his fingers were slowly walking their way up her arm to her neck, to that place where it met he skull. They traced their way ever so slowly around the delicate folds of her ear, then were replaced by his lips.

"Was I in your dream?" he whispered in her ear, his warm, moist breath causing her to shiver.

She closed her eyes, and swallowed convulsively. "Hmmmmm.....yeah. You were there."

"What was I wearing?" he asked, slowly rolling her onto her back. e began to undo the buttons on her denim shirt, kissing the flesh that he exposed as he went.

"Not much." She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feelings he was creating in her body with his hands and his lips.

"I don't think I ever told you just how beautiful you are."

She stilled his hands for a moment. "No, I don't think you did. And I don't think I ever told you just how much I love you."

His head snapped up and he looked in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I do, I guess I always have. I just didn't know how to let you love me before. But now I know that to get what I want, I'll have to surrender."

"Surrender what?"

"Myself...and control over everything. I'm going to have to trust you enough to surrender that part of myself I've held back. I always trusted you with my life, but not with my heart. So I'm giving it to you now and hoping you won't throw it back at me."

He let her go and sat up, moving away from her to compose his thoughts. There were still things that needed to be said, they needed to be clear about where this was heading. "I wanted to hear you say that for so long, I'm at a loss right now. I had given up."

She sat up and moved to where he was, crawling across the floor like a big cat. He pulled her into his lap and held her close. It was as if a great chain were about to be removed from around his heart. "Listen to me now. If you give me your heart, don't think you can change your mind and take it back. I've wanted your love for so long it's second nature to me. I just never thought I'd get it. You'll never be able to get rid of me, you know."

Her arms slipped around his neck, and she looked him squarely in his warm hazel eyes. She let her thumb travel absently across his lower lip. "I don't ever want to be rid of you. I don't want to put any undue pressure on you, but if you don't love me.....I don't know what I'll do."

He smiled lazily at her and responded. "As if..." imitating that annoying slang of Jason's generation. Imagine ** Dana Scully, in his lap, in a most charming state of undress, begging him to love her. There was a God after all. He pushed her hair away from her face, trying for a moment to bestill and listen to his heart. In her eyes he could see she was speaking the truth, from her heart.

Maybe they had to go through all this, these eight years. He had to learn to love from Katherine, and Dana to learn surrender from her heart, before they could be together. Maybe this was the way it had to be. Maybe this God he'd just admitted to his universe had a perverse sense of humor. And maybe, just maybe, they had a shot at happiness together because of it all.

"There's just one thing. Jason. I don't intend to go much longer before asking for your hand, Miss Scully. I don't want to waste any more time in my life. I'm not a kid anymore," he said, taking her hands into his and marveling at how small they were. Small but strong. "How would you feel about being a step-mom? This is a truly special kid and I love him. I want him to grow up healthy and whole. If at all possible, I'd like him to have siblings. What do you think about that?" he asked, waiting and hoping for her answer, his eyes pleading with hers.

"Frankly, I am stunned by your devotion to him. But I shouldn't be, should I? Look at your devotion to finding your sister and to finding a cure for my cancer. I hope someday I can earn that kind of devotion from you again." She removed her hands from his, and placed them on either side of his face before continuing.

"Yes, I think I can be the kind of mom Jason needs," she said earnestly. "I don't know about the siblings part, though. I've had cancer treatments....maybe that's not possible. But I'm certainly willing to try." Her smile conveyed her sincere desire to participate in Jason's life and her willingness to try for children of their own.

He pushed her off his lap and stood, then reached out his hand to her, pulling her up and hard against his chest. The icy blue eyes that had watched him in his own haunted dreams for so many years now smiled up at him, happy at last. No tormented anguish in their crystal depths. "I love you, Dana Scully. I love you...." his declarations were cut off as she stood, fastening her mouth to his.

Her hands worked their way under his t-shirt and across the muscles of his back. "Would it be taking too big a chance.....I mean Jason might come home any minute now, don't you think?" she asked as her hands made their way to the top button on his jeans. Mulder laughed against her mouth and began to remove her shirt, sliding it over her shoulders.

"No, I think Jason is secretly hoping that at this very moment you and I are upstairs in my bed doing things with and to each other that he has a lot of questions about, and as soon as I refresh my memory perhaps I'll talk to him about it." His voice was getting a little ragged, his pulse was increasing. His fingers moved up her rib cage, over the pale pink satin and lace of her bra and settled at the tiny gold cross on a chain around her neck. He lifted it away from her skin, holding it in his hand and remembering when he had worn it against his own skin; a talisman against the evil that surrounded him then while she was gone.

"Far be it from me to stand in the way of a young man's education...," she said, watching with some amusement as his mouth made its way to her breasts. He suddenly stopped, scooped her up into his arms and took the steps to the second floor two at a time.

"But just in case........his education is not going to include visual aids in the form of performance art."

He'd talked to Dana about Kate. He'd loved that woman and she was a part of who he was now. Dana was happy to hear about the woman who had healed the scars of his sister's loss. She believed that Katherine Hall had to be a very special woman to take on such a task and although she didn't say it out loud for fear it would sound insincere, she was grateful to her. Grateful to her for the man that was Fox Mulder now.

"So dad, about this wedding. Do I get to go?" Jason asked from the back seat. They were taking Dana to the house at Quonochontaug for the Thanksgiving weekend. Mulder was hoping it would give the two loves of his life a chance to get to know each other. In the two weeks since he'd spent the day making love with Dana, he'd not seen her much. Her life was as busy as his. And now it was important to him that she getto know Jason. Not that there was much chance they weren't going to like each other, but they needed time. Scully needed to get used to him talking about his mom, and Jason needed to know the warm, charming, brilliant woman who was Dana Scully.

They laughed at his question. "As if I would consider getting married without you there. Of course, Jason, I want you to be the best man. I hope you don't have an aversion to formal wear. She's been looking at white dinner jackets."

Dana laughed at his warning to his son. "Don't worry, Jason. It's just clothes. Nothing to be afraid of."

Mulder reached over and covered Dana's hand with his. God Bless Dana Scully. She was already making Jason a part of their life together.

"Fox!" Dana screamed. In the split second he took his eyes from the road, someone behind him decided to pass him. There was a big truck headed straight for the car, and nowhere to go except for the side of the road. He quickly turned the wheel and drove his 4-runner onto the shoulder, narrowly missing a head-on collision with a tree.

When the car was finally at a complete stop, Mulder looked at his passengers trying to assess the damage. Dana appeared to be dazed, still strapped safely in her seat. But Jason was on the floor.

Mulder jumped out of the vehicle and opened the back door quickly. Jason was just getting up.

"Jason, are you hurt?" he asked, helping him out of the car. He appeared to be fine. "What were you doing out of your seatbelt for God's sake?"

"I had it on, Dad. Honest. It just came undone."

Calm down, Mulder. Breathe in.....they're all right.

"I'm sorry. I just..." he hugged Jason to him then let him go and turned to Dana, who had followed him out of the car as quickly as she could, but was now seated on the ground near the car.

"Are you all right?"

"Well, I think I sprained my ankle when I jumped out of the car," she said, laughing nervously.

"Let me see." He knelt down beside her and wrapped his hands around her ankle. There was a little swelling above her flat shoe. "What do you think? Nothing broken?" She was the doctor, after all.

"Nah. We'll wrap it when we get to the house. I'll be fine."

"That guy never even stopped! Can you believe it?" Jason asked, staring down at Dana's swelling foot. "Gosh, are you okay?"

She smiled at him, trying to ease his father's fears. It occurred to her that he must at this very moment be reliving the agony of Kate's accident and subsequent death. There was a wild fear in his eyes that she didn't like at all.

"Listen to me, both of you. I'm going to be fine. We're all fine. You have to let it go. Accidents happen. Now, let's get back in the car and get to the house before it gets dark." It was issued as a reassurance as well as a command.

Fox and Jason looked at each other and shrugged. In unison they responded, "Yes ma'am." Mulder leaned down and picked her up in his arms, wondering how such a little person could be so strong and forceful when she wanted to be, then so soft and yielding when she needed to be. He placed her gently in her seat and waited for her to buckle up.

Perhaps he would never be able to feel completely comfortable about riding in the car with his family. Maybe they might never get completely over the losses that they had suffered in their lives, all three of them. But together, as a family, they could be strong for each other, and they would make a good family.

After a meal of Thanksgiving leftovers, Jason went to bed leaving them alone. Mulder insisted she stay off her feet while he cleaned up the kitchen. When he returned he found her stretched out on the sofa. He lifted her bare feet and seated himself, leaving her feet in his lap.

"Dana, do you know anything about synchronicity?"

Whew! A pretty deep topic for conversation after such a long day.

"You mean like the coincidental occurrence of events? Psychic events?"

He absently rubbed one of her feet, watching as she purred with pleasure.

"Yeah. Similar thoughts in widely separated individuals, or a premonition. Things that can't really be explained by the conventional mechanisms of causality."

She raised her head up and looked at him. "More Jung, Dr. Mulder?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You were telling me about your dreams. I've been having dreams of my own. Not nightmares like I used to have, but dreams. Always in these dreams I could see eyes. Big icy blue eyes, watching everything I did....in my dreams anyway. I know they were your eyes."

"So, what you're telling me is that we've been dreaming about each other and we didn't know it?"

"Uh huh."

"Back up to your definition. Don't you think that we can explain that occurrence? We were dreaming about each other because we were lonely, dreaming about the one person we wanted to be with?"

He raised his eyebrows and clucked his tongue. "No synchronicity?"

"No," she said, removing her feet from his lap and moving up to his end of the couch. She wrapped her arms around his body and curled into his side. "But I'm having a premonition right now."

"Really? What is it? Does it involve naked bodies and flavored massage oil?"

She put her fingers to her temples, feigning concentration on this premonition. "Oh, you know, I think it does."

He laughed and pushed her down onto her back on the sofa, hovering over her. "That's not a premonition Dana, and it's not synchronistic. It' pure, unadulterated, animal lust."

"I'm so glad we cleared up our definition of terms. Now, take me to bed Fox," she said, dragging that tempting lower lip of his through her teeth gently.

"I hear and obey." He growled against her lips before claiming her mouth.

I surrender to you Dana, heart and soul. As it was meant to be.

End

Authors Note: After working on this story for a week, to the exclusion of most everything else in my life, I gave it to a friend to read. She said: "I've read this." I was greatly annoyed. Apparently I'm not the first person to formulate how this cancer thing would work out, and if Scully threw Mulder away (figuratively speaking, of course), what would he do? And how long would it take them to make their way back to each other because we all know that's how it was meant to be? Seems like many of us have the same ideas. As it says in the Bible, there's nothing new under the sun. Is there?