Home is where we love.
Oliver Wendall Holmes

You ask if I love you, I'll tell you no lie. How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? How many times a day do I think of you? How many roses are sprinkled with dew? How far would I travel to be where you are? How far is the journey from here to a star? And if I ever lost you how much would I cry? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky?
Irving Berlin

Fall rather abruptly turned to winter in early December by dropping eight inches of snow on New England. The city of Boston was temporarily silenced as the blanket of soft whiteness fell. Classes at Boston University were cancelled for two days, city offices and all local schools were closed.

But the city morgue still had its work to do. Crimes were still committed and people were still dying. In fact, Dr. Scully was beginning to suspect that a serial killer was making a name for himself.

With two days off, Fox Mulder and his son Jason had watched a marathon of old movies. Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, and the new Star Wars Trilogy Jason received for his birthday. It was his pleasure to introduce Jason to Han Solo and Luke Skywalker.

Mulder looked around the living room at the carnage these two days had visited on the house. Books and magazines were tossed around, popcorn littered the floor; socks, shoes and jackets were on every chair. But there was fresh coffee and enough firewood piled nearby to last another two days. All that was missing was the woman in his life in his arms. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and leaned his head back against the cushions of the sofa. Balancing his cup on his chest, he closed his eyes and conjured up her image behind his eyes.

Beautiful Dana, just beginning middle age and as lovely as ever. Her deep red hair in short layers around her face and the sparkling blue eyes as mischievous as they were when he first met her. Those eyes had always beckoned you close, closer, until you thought you could reach the soft center of Dana Scully, then her crisp businesslike manner shoved you backwards leaving you reeling and off balance.

It had been twelve-no, almost thirteen years since she strode into his office fresh-faced and eager and declared she was looking forward to working with him. Thirteen years since she'd first thrown him off balance with those eyes. Thirteen years he had known her; loved her as long as he could remember. But only in the past three weeks had he been able to tell her.

He thought about calling her. He missed her. He wanted her in his home, to see her shoes under the coffee table and smell her perfume on his clothes. Home included her now. But most of all he wanted her in his bed - or himself in hers. Sure, he'd known her thirteen years, but he'd only made love to her on three separate occasions, and those only in the last three weeks. It had been six days since he'd seen her. This damn snowstorm had trapped her in the city in her office, and apparently the body count was rising. He was pulled away from his thoughts by the phone ringing.

"Mulder, it's me."

Ah, the familiar voice of Dana Scully. He smiled, remembering the many times he had heard her voice on the other end, saying exactly that. First during their partnership years, then recently when it had taken on a whole new meaning.

"Dr. Scully. How's it going?"

"Well," she began with a heavy sigh. "I'm getting tired of this place. I haven't been home in two days and I need a shower."

"I've missed you," he said, his voice a deep rumbling in his chest that communicated more than just his regret at her absence. He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded.

"Have you?" she asked, thinking to herself that she'd missed him for so many years that it was hard to believe what had happened in a few short weeks. "I've missed you too. They tell me the storm is moving on and the streets into the suburbs will be cleared this evening."

"Good. You're still coming for dinner tomorrow aren't you? Jason is looking forward to a backgammon rematch."

She laughed. "And what are you looking forward to?" lowering her voice, trying her best to sound sultry.

"Hmmm," he murmured into the phone, considering her question. "Do I really need to tell you that?"

"No, not really, because it seems to be at the top of my thoughts as well. You'd think we were a couple of teenagers..." she stopped, cut off by his laughter.

She listened to him laugh, a rich musical sound, something she never thought she'd hear. He laughed now, and frequently.

"Listen, I still think youth is wasted on the young. No technique. They haven't learned how to linger and savor... everything is so fast."

"Lingering and savoring, hmm? I'm looking forward to a little lingering and savoring at the earliest opportunity. Dana?"

"Hmmm?" she whispered, breathlessly anticipating whatever yummy thing he would say next. He was always saying these incredible things that tore at her heart and without realizing it she would end up in his arms. It was a joy like no other to be held in the arms of Fox Mulder, to feel his lips on her neck and his voice whispering in her ear.

He hesitated before continuing, and when he did she was sure that he had something else on his mind.

"I just wanted to remind you...I love you."

She shivered with delight as little pockets of happiness burst throughout her small frame. It was still so hard to believe. Fox Mulder loves me.

"I love you too, Fox." She waited for that to sink in before continuing. "Listen, if I brought you some autopsy reports, would you take a look at them?" she asked, changing the subject. She was wondering if he would pick out any clues in the missing body parts, but she was reluctant to expose him to this murder case.

He clucked his tongue as if to chide her. "I have to keep reminding you. I'm the shrink, you're the coroner," he explained carefully, as though speaking to a child. " What's up?"

She explained her suspicions and he suggested she contact the homicide division on the Boston PD. Perhaps they were already working on a case. She promised to do that and rang off.

It did stop snowing, the schools reopened and everyone went back to work. Scully arrived the next evening with a bottle of wine and her reports. The wine went into the fridge to chill and the reports went into her purse. They would wait until a better time.

Dinner was a group effort, the three of them working together in the large kitchen on a meal of favorites. After cleaning up they retired to the living room for the much anticipated backgammon rematch. While Dana and Jason slugged it out over the backgammon board, Mulder stoked up the fire and read the paper.

He'd missed this. Three people in the house. It took some of the pressure off him to be all for Jason, to have all the answers and be the sole source of conversation. It gave him an opportunity to observe. His son and his love, his soul's ambition. It pleased him how well they got along. Jason had taken to her immediately, yet another indication of his excellent training. While she was here Kate had done a remarkable job with her boy. He hoped she would have been pleased with his efforts on Jason's behalf as well. It was important to him. He owed it to them and he was determined that Jason have as close to a normal childhood as possible. It was something he felt compelled to pass on.

He would provide a decent happy home for a kid who had every reason to be maladjusted. Rejected by his father, his mother died when he was eight in a terrible car accident leaving him with an adopted father. What could have been life-changing traumas seemed to have left Jason untouched.

And he beat Dana, yet again. He was good, no question.

"Amazing, Jason. Who taught you this game?" she asked while putting the pieces away in the box.

"Mom taught me. We used to play a lot." He answered his tone very matter of fact.

Dana was curious about Jason. She detected no sadness in his voice when he spoke of his mother. His face betrayed nothing other than fond memories. Perhaps it was Fox's guidance. He was after all a shrink.

He was a changed man, her Mulder. Completely different from the quietly tortured, searching individual she had known; yet those unique qualities that made him so charming remained. In the eight years they had been separated he had matured incredibly. He was still a little quirky, but some things need to stay the same. Kate must have been some woman.

"Well, I guess I'll go to bed now. G'night Dana..," he said, kissing her cheek before turning his attention to his dad. "G'night Dad. Laundry tomorrow, right?"

Mulder stood and hugged him. He was getting taller by the minute. "Yep. Night sport."

After he had gone, Dana slipped onto the couch beside him and into his arms, curling her body across his. It felt so good to hold her. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the fragrance of her hair.

"So where is this report you want me to see?"

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. "No. Not tonight. I just want to lie here and relax. Besides, I called Homicide and they are looking at it already. I think they'll find they have a serial killer on their hands."

"You surely don't need me to confirm that for you."

"No. I just wanted the best profiler I know to give me an opinion. But it's okay, I think they need to take a crack at it first and they don't want my help. I'm the medical examiner, remember?"

"Did they say that to you? Good. I'm not so sure I want to go back into that world." He didn't. He didn't want to get sucked into the dark side again. He liked it out here in the light. The darkness was alluring and addictive.

"Hmm..." she mumbled, agreeing with him. "But you were the best, you know that."

"Right. So good you couldn't wait to get rid of me." He regretted saying it the minute it was out there. Before he could recant, she exhaled, patiently.

"Let's not rehash that tonight, all right? It's over and done with. We all did what we had to do, what we thought was right at the time." She had forgotten all that old Mulder guilt. He would assume responsibility for almost anything. Somehow that quick mind could rationalize his culpability in everything from changing weather patterns to...well, perhaps not the weather. But it was definitely an art he had perfected and perhaps she had contributed to. Not anymore.

He didn't respond, just pulled her more tightly against his body. Yes, he had been good, but his search for truth carried a high price. He would have paid it, but he wasn't alone. It had almost lost him the one thing that made life worth living. He'd almost lost her to the cancer. To make him a believer, to control him, Dana had unwittingly sacrificed something she didn't even know she wanted until it was gone. Children were impossible; her ability to procreate had been stolen from her.

If only they had been left alone to pursue the work. If what they had been doing was legitimate. But the work was tainted by the interference of people he still knew very little about. Looking back, the sacrifices they made were unbearable given the cost. His time in the FBI had not gotten him any closer to the truth about his sister; it had left him with more questions than answers. But it had brought him Dana then taken her from him. To secure a cure he had faked his death and it cost him dearly.

Never again would he allow something malevolent to come that close to her. He intended to be in the rocking chair next to hers someday. He expected to bounce grandchildren on his knee. Perhaps they wouldn't be Dana's biological grandchildren, but he had first hand knowledge of the satisfaction to be derived from raising children that weren't from your gene pool. He wanted her to know that joy.

But right now it was murders and autopsies that were the focus of Scully's world. He had thought the world of serial killers and monsters far away, but now it was in the room with him again. She had brought it to him this time.

Details of an autopsy would reveal much information about a killer and he knew that's why she had wanted him to take a look. They were a step in the process of profiling a murderer.

Her sudden reluctance to expose him to that madness was touching. She was trying to protect him. Her instincts served her well, they always had.

"I love you Dana," he whispered into her ear. "You're not going to disappear in a puff of smoke, are you?"

She sat back to look at his face. Such a handsome face and so serious just now. "I love you too, Fox. No, not in a puff of smoke, but I should go. It'll be icy if I stay much longer."

He leaned forward and kissed her. "I don't think you should be driving. Stay here with me tonight." As he was kissing her, he was at the same time maneuvering her sweater off her shoulders.

She returned his kiss, laughing against his lips and shrugging back into her sweater. "That doesn't seem like a good idea. Not that I wouldn't enjoy staying, you know I would. I thought we were keeping our sex life from Jason. "

He traded glances with her, observing that impossibly arched eyebrow. "I hate it that you're right all the time, you know. Why don't you just move in here with us. Better yet, why don't we just get married and get it over with?" Uh-oh. Had he said that? And like that. You're a jerk, Mulder. Not exactly the romantic proposal that every woman fantasized about. What a charmer!

"Is this something we need to discuss tonight?" she asked, trying not to frown. She was tired and this would require more of her than she had to give right then.

"No, we don't. I'm sorry, it just came out like that. Stupid, huh?" he asked, trying to turn away.

She smiled at him. His sincerity was endearing, and living apart was not what either of them wanted. But she was tired and it was late. If she didn't go now she might not go and she respected his efforts to keep up appearances for Jason. Just how much they fooled Jason, she wasn't sure. But his intentions were good.

"Not stupid. Badly phrased perhaps, but a good idea and one we should discuss at a more appropriate time when I am a bit more rested. Okay?" she asked, her hand tracing the line of his cheekbone before going to lace her fingers through his hair. His smile was confirmation that all was well and she kissed him again, then felt herself lifted into his arms playfully.

"Okay. I'll remember that." If she wanted a traditional proposal, that's what she would get and the sooner the better. Proposals were spinning in his mind as he waved goodbye, shivering in his shirtsleeves in the driveway.

"Well, not exactly. We haven't been able to find a connection between these people yet. So far all we have is a similarity in the trophies taken by the killer."

This Detective Greenhowe seemed to know what he was doing, and seemed willing to share the details of the investigation with her.

Daniel Greenhowe was delighted to be doing so. He'd studied about the two most famous agents for the FBI, Dana Scully and Fox Mulder. No one else seemed overly impressed by her credentials, but he was. They had been at the head of the X-Files division. Their reputation and case files were legendary among FBI students these days. He recalled hearing that Dr. Scully had come to work for the city of Boston, but the whereabouts of Fox Mulder were a mystery.

"I realize that it's not my place to ask these questions. Habit, I think. Have you checked the database for similar murders?"

"I have our people working on that now."

She handed the file over to the younger man. "Do you mind if I do some checking on my own? I don't want you to think I'm not confident that your people will do a good job. I just want to help."

He stood and extended his hand to her. "Any help you can offer us will be appreciated Dr. Scully. If it was good enough for the FBI...well, the BPD would be grateful."

The body of Professor Wesley Lewis was found on the floor of the basement in a shocking condition. The police had requested that Dr. Stanton remain outside while they checked. They returned a short while later to explain that the Professor was dead and went to their patrol car to call for the detectives and a coroner's car.

Dr. Dana Scully arrived half an hour later with two photographers and was followed shortly by an army of Detectives. Every inch of the house was searched carefully for details, clues, and forensic evidence. Detective Greenhowe observed that she was painstakingly meticulous in her collection of fibers and remarkably quick in her preliminary assessment of the body. She overheard the detective's discussing the profession of the dead man. Professor of history at Boston University.

Mulder called during the day and left a message on her machine. Jason had gone skiing with friends for the weekend and why didn't she pack a bag and stay for a few days. They would be going out for dinner that evening, and she threw in a dinner dress and a pair of heels just in case.

It was dark when she arrived. She sat in the driveway and peered through the window at his home, for a home it truly was. It was a great house in a nice neighborhood, and it was home. You could feel it when you walked in. She imagined it in summer, fragrant rose and lilac bushes blooming around the front steps. She closed her eyes for a minute and let her mind flash forward a few years. Was that Mulder holding a baby in his arms? She had first hand knowledge of the kind of father he would make. They would adopt. Was it possible that everything she ever wanted was within her grasp at last?

"Hey...are you okay?"

Her focus was pulled from her imaginings by a tapping on the window. The door opened and she turned her head, smiling up into the face of the best man she knew.

"What are you doing sitting out here in the cold?" he asked, taking her small suitcase from the back seat before entwining an arm around her waist.

"A little daydreaming," she said, smiling up at him. He returned that smile and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, then hustled her up the walk to the house and it's welcoming warmth.

Their dinner reservation was for eight o'clock and they made it in time for a cocktail in the bar. Mulder wore a coat and tie, the first she'd seen him in since his FBI days. He wore it well, that tailored European look. Expensive suit, silk tie, Italian leather shoes.

"Can I talk to you for a minute about this case the police are working on?" she asked him quietly.

He watched her fidget with her glass for a moment before responding.

"What is it?"

She raised her eyes to his and explained that they had discovered the body of a third victim in his home. "It think it's the same killer. And the thing that worries me is they all have some connection to Boston University."

"I haven't heard about any murders on the campus."

"They weren't on the campus, and that seems to be the only connection between them. I asked the detective in charge of the case if he would mind if I did some checking into similar cases."

He waited. He knew what she wanted, but maybe she'd changed her mind. If she asked, he'd do anything for her. Even go back into the darkness. "Just like old times, almost. You want me to look at all the information and develop a profile, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes and looked away. "Yes, I do. You're better at this than I am, and I think they need our help. But if you don't want to, just say so. I will understand."

She looked worried. Worried about him. "You think it's someone with a beef against the college?"

"I don't know. But there is that connection. The sooner they catch the person..." She stopped, mid-sentence and ran her hand up his forearm. "If anything were to happen to you and I could have prevented it..."

He stopped her hand with his own, covering it and squeezing reassuringly. "You don't have to tell me about that kind of guilt; we're old friends, remember?. Of course I'll help you," he said to her earnestly. He used to blame himself for the harm that came to the people in his life. It was a heavy burden.

He changed the subject quickly ordering a bottle of wine and making plans for Christmas. He'd asked around at work about a place that he could take Dana where they could dance. And not this frenetic stuff that passed for dancing, but slow dancing. Someplace you could go to and close your eyes, holding the woman you loved in your arms and move mindlessly with the music. After dinner he would take her there.

It was nearly one in the morning when they got home. Scully started a fire while Mulder made hot chocolate. She kicked off her shoes and wrapped herself in an afghan, watching the fire jump in the grate as the logs caught.

"Here you are." He handed her a steaming mug and she took it, waiting for him to settle in beside her.

"It was a lovely evening. I didn't know you were such a good dancer, Professor."

He smiled and nipped at her ear playfully. "And I didn't know you had such terrific legs, doctor." She wore a very simple black dress, form fitting and short, exposing her legs that were clad in sheer black stockings. She'd always dressed so sensibly, so generically during their days at the FBI. Almost as if she was trying to detract from the fact that she was a woman in the boy's club it had been.

"I think we should continue this conversation upstairs, Fox," she said, standing and holding her hand out to him.

"No, I think you should sit down here for a minute."

She watched him wring his hands, then nervously run them through his hair. "I planned out all of the details of this evening except what I would say at this moment," he said, watching her eyes as she returned to her seat beside him. The firelight leant her skin a wonderful warm glow and he was stunned once again by her beauty. It was incredible that after all this time, after all the years alone, that they should find each other again.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet jeweler box. Taking her hand, he opened it palm up and placed the box in it.

"It's time, Dana. Long past time. I've loved you for so long. Thought about you all these years, regretting the things I should have done and said. When you ordered me out of your life, I should have stayed and given you some space." He stopped briefly to push her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind one ear. "They say that love is friendship set on fire. That's how we started, as friends. And then we weren't anymore, and it was my fault. Now I have my chance to make it up to you. I love you and I want to marry you. I need the chance to set things right, put them back on the course that I know we should have taken."

She stared into his wonderful, warm hazel eyes, then answered him quickly. "Of course I will marry you. There is nothing in this world that I want more. I always loved you, even when I didn't like you very much. You were and still are my best friend and now my only love."

She bestowed upon him one of those rare Scully smiles. A wide-open, unrestrained, flashy smile, exposing teeth and causing a heretofore unseen dimple to form in her cheek.

The little box opened to reveal an elegant diamond solitaire. Perfectly proportioned for a small hand yet making a serious statement. She handed it to him and waited while he slipped it slowly onto her finger. He bent over to kiss the back of her hand, and with her other she smoothed his hair down affectionately. "I hope we live a long time together, Fox. There are so many things I want to tell you and right now all I can think of is how much I love you."

He took her in his arms and kissed her with the passion of a man deprived of his desire for a very long time. And Dana returned his passion. Long into the night they talked and made love. The fabric of their souls was still so tightly woven together, even after eight years apart. They marveled at heights of passion they discovered in each other's bodies. The death of Wesley Lewis was forgotten, temporarily.

He opened his eyes and closed them again quickly. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the bedroom. He reached across the bed, feeling blindly for Dana.

"Watch out, Mulder!"

He lifted his head and turned his eyes in her direction. She was wearing his robe, seated beside him with the morning paper strewn across the bed. She was holding her coffee cup in the air, away from the questing hand that moments ago had landed in the middle of the newsprint, causing her to spill just a little of the hot liquid.

He sat up and scrubbed his hands through his hair, then rubbed his eyes and turned to her. "Good morning, beautiful."

Her lifted brow told him she doubted the truth of his statement, but her smile said she loved the sentiment. She put her cup on the bedside table and shoved the papers onto the floor. "It is a beautiful morning," she said, pushing him gently back onto the pillows and kissing him playfully, her warm hands sliding up his torso beneath his t-shirt. She felt his hands caressing her body and snuggled closer into him. "And it's only right that it should be after such a wonderful night."

He smiled up into her shining blue eyes. "Did I propose to you last night?"

She lifted her hand, showing him the ring that now sparkled on her finger.

"And did you agree?" he asked, taking that hand and bringing it to his lips.

She nodded. "Good, just checking. I wanted to make sure that I hadn't dreamt that part. How about the really incredible sex? Did I dream that?" he asked playfully.

"Definitely not. Impressive, actually. So, are you a morning man, Fox?"

He slowly ground his hips against hers, giving her that slow, smoldering smile. "I don't know, what do you think?"

"My guess? Yes."

He pulled her closer and rolled her under him. Good guesser.

"What if we get married next month?" she asked him as he started the car. They were on their way to pick up Jason, then out for lunch where they would tell him their news.

"You know if you've been harboring any wedding fantasies now is the time to go with them?" he asked, looking over the seat behind him, backing out of the driveway.

She laughed. "You mean like 12 bridesmaids in rainbow colored gowns?"

Ouch! Bridesmaids? He screwed his face up, sincerely hoping that she was kidding. He also knew that if that's what she wanted, he would grin and bear it. Whatever she wanted.

"If that's what you need to do," he stated, then added sheepishly, "It isn't, though, is it?"

"No...don't be ridiculous."

"I just want you to have the kind of wedding you've always dreamed of. Because you aren't going to get another chance. I intend to be your one and only husband."

"In that case, I always thought I'd like a string quartet."

"That's it? That's all you can come up with? I thought girls gave these things lot's of thought, had it all planned out by the time they were twenty."

She smiled. "Pre-med, Mulder. No time. Besides, I'm not 20 anymore. Things that were important to me then don't seem to have the same meaning now. I think something simple would be fine."

"Whew!" he gasped. "That bridesmaid thing had me scared."

"And what do you want to do? Don't you have any expectations of your wedding?"

He thought about it a minute. Did he? He had a few visions in his head, but nothing he would insist on. Nope, all he really wanted was a simple ceremony that ended in them married to each other.

"As long as we end up with matching bands and a marriage license, I don't really have any preferences. Make it what you've always wanted, Dana. I think maybe a simple ceremony with some friends and family, a nice party afterward and a honeymoon in a tropical climate...that's about all I need."

That was exactly what she had in mind. She honestly felt she was a little old for the traditional formal wedding, and she never really cared about all that hoopla anyway. But she did want something nice, something memorable that they could look back on fondly. Something that would really express the depth of their commitment to each other.

Jason was delighted about this development, but it came as no surprise to him. They enjoyed their lunch in a fancy downtown restaurant and it was Jason's idea to order champagne for a toast, which he delivered. "Dad," he said, nodding in first his father's direction, then Dana's, "and Dana, may your lives be filled with happiness. That's what I wish for you both. A life of happiness and joy."

Dana's eyes filled with tears. Such an eloquent young man, capable of expressing himself; unashamed of his emotions. It promised to be interesting with Jason around, and it would be a pleasure to take a hand in his upbringing. She leaned over and kissed Jason's cheek, then clinked glasses with him before turning her attention to her intended whose happy eyes stared back at hers brimming with tears.

"So have you guys planned anything yet?" Jason asked, trying to give his Dad some space to recover.

Dana too picked up on his need for some time. "A simple wedding, I think. Just family and a few friends. My family lives in Maryland, and I'm sure that they will want to come. Your Dad doesn't really have any family, but I'm sure he has friends."

"When your family finds out just who it is you're planning to marry, they may not want to come." Mulder added, still feeling the disapproval of the Scully men even after all this time.

She sat back in her seat. If he only knew. Her mother had clucked her tongue for several weeks after hearing that Mulder had resigned and left town, severing ties with Dana at her demand. "You should have spoken to him before he left. You ended it in anger, and I hope you don't regret this rash behavior."

Rash? He had kept things from her, important, life changing things, and at the time she needed to let that anger out. She levied the full force of her anger and frustration on Mulder, and in true Mulder style he accepted the responsibility and acted accordingly. And yes, she did regret her behavior. Her mother's prediction rattled around in her memory a long time.

"Not my Mom. She always knew how we felt about each other. She will be happy and greatly relieved that we have found each other again."

It began to form in his mind then, a plan for their wedding.

"Why don't we just order some lunch for now. We can hash this out at home."

"Good," said Dana, smiling at Jason. "I'm hungry, how about you?"

Jason was thrilled. He really liked Dana, and he knew for sure that his father was desperately in love. As desperate as a forty-six-year-old would get, anyway.

Another victim had surfaced and Dana was busy with the autopsy. She had left the file she was compiling with him to look at. He had, in fact, come up with very little about the killer, and even less about the victims. Analyzing the murder scenes usually provided some valuable details about the murderer, but it seemed there was little to go on in these cases. The victims were strangled, but not sexually molested in any way. The method of strangulation seemed to depend on the environment in which they were murdered. The perpetrator would have carried nothing into the scene that way. Every mark on the body could be explained, except that each victim was missing some part of their body.

This is the part that stumped him. If it was the same part in each case, perhaps there would be something to learn from that. But it wasn't. The first victim was a third year literature student, Roger Evans. Good student, on a basketball scholarship, no criminal record, no girlfriend. Nothing that might suggest any quarrels or suspicious contacts, but that was not odd. The victims of a serial killer were usually chosen at random and the killer caught by identifying similarities in the methods of killing and a psychological profile that was developed by analyzing this information.

Perhaps this was not a serial killer. Perhaps there were some connections between the victims that was not yet apparent. Perhaps they had pissed off the mailman or something. But then there was the mutilation of the bodies...

He set the file aside and went back to the wedding. He had been developing a plan in his mind that the wedding could be a surprise. They might even do it on New Year's eve...but it was already the 12th of December. Surely it took longer than that to plan a decent wedding.

He had talked it over with Jason. His response had been hesitant. "I don't know Dad. Is Dana the kind of person who appreciates surprises?"

"Hmmm. The old Dana might not have. But now, I don't know. She might. I get the feeling that she just wants it to be special. Something that she can tell her grandchildren about."

"Grandchildren! You don't even have children yet. And how old is she anyway?"

He turned around to look at his son. Was this the time to explain to Jason about Dana's past? "Let's see. I'm forty- six, that makes her forty-three. You could be right. But I think she wants kids. Maybe we'll adopt. But let's get back to this wedding thing. You think we could get the house into shape for an impromptu ceremony?"

Jason laughed. "I don't think that would be good. We'd have to do some serious cleaning and I think that would give us away."

"Well, how about the chapel at the university? Professor Dillon has a brother who is a priest and I'm sure that something could be worked out there. I think that for the Scully's getting married in church would be the way to go. So will you help me with this Jason?"

He really wanted Jason to feel a part of this. It the most important thing was Dana. It must be something wonderful for Dana. If he waited for her to have the time to plan such a thing it would be months. Logistically, he could see there were about a thousand ways it could get screwed up, but the more he thought about it, the more surprising her with a wedding seemed like a really great idea. It might just work.

He began to compile a list of things to do. The first thing to do was contact the chapel and talk to Arthur Dillon about his brother. If Father Ray would do it and the chapel was available, he would be convinced it was a sign that he should go with it. And New Year's Eve seemed like a good time. He could be almost certain that she'd be dressed up and not working.

With that much settled, he returned to the murders as Dana had outlined them in the file. The second victim: Arnita Samuels, age 56. Former librarian at the university and also died by strangulation. Mrs. Samuels was found with her right hand missing. According to Dana's autopsy it appeared that the hand had been lopped off with something like an ax. A clean cut, not a severing motion like with a knife.

The third victim was Professor Lewis, age 49. This man was a history professor at BU and his autopsy stated he was missing a hand as well. His left hand. Again, lopped of with an ax perhaps.

Christmas was approaching so quickly and there were things to do, shopping to be done. This year she had so many reasons to shop. She was a member of a family of her own now. It was irrelevant to them all that the formality of a wedding ceremony had not taken place. She didn't need a piece of paper to tell her that she and Fox Mulder were bound and committed to each other. She knew that, down to her bones. And that Jason would respect her as his stepmother. If fact, it seemed he was as anxious that she move in as Fox was.

It was during the tree decorating that Mulder told her that he and Jason had discussed it, and they all thought that she should move in soon, before she even had time to unpack at her apartment. In fact, it seemed to make good sense. She was amused that it had been Jason who brought the whole thing up. After some discussion and a gentle reminder from his son that he was almost thirteen and not a baby, it was agreed that Fox would talk to Dana and the sooner the better.

And so it was that a week before Christmas they hired a moving truck to collect her things from her downtown apartment. Most of it went into the basement and attic to be sorted out later when there was more time.

Mulder surveyed the devastation in their bedroom. Boxes were piled high on one wall, suitcases littered the bed and he could see that his closet was a disaster. Even with the room in such chaos, he smiled. It felt wonderful to have her here, to see her things mingling with his on the dresser.

"What's so funny?"

He turned to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "Nothing." He lied.

She shook her finger at him. "Oh, no, no. You're not going to get away that easy. You are standing in the middle of a mess that may take days to sort out and you are laughing. I need an explanation."

He turned away to look at the room again. Days? Weeks maybe. But it was evidence that the woman he loved was under his roof now. He couldn't help it. He laughed again.

"I don't know...I guess I kind of like this messy look." He shivered when he felt her arms slip around his waist from behind, her body pressing close to his.

"I know, Fox. It's a good feeling for me too. I've come home."

"And what would you like for Christmas, Jason?" she asked, moving the pile of peas around her plate. She was dining alone with him this evening, Mulder having claimed an appointment with a student over a paper. Neither of them was fooled. Dana suspected he was Christmas shopping and Jason believed he was off arranging a wedding with a priest.

"I think I'd like new skis. Dad took me last year and it was really fun. I think I'd like some skis of my own and maybe take some lessons."

That could certainly be arranged. She'd have to talk to Fox about that. She'd already purchased her gift for Mulder. When she'd seen the large toy sailboat in the store, she couldn't resist. That first day at Quonochontaug he'd been out on a sailboat. She would carry that picture of him in her mind always. His hair blown about by the wind, his face flushed, kicking up leaves as he ran toward her through the dense tree covered property. Perhaps she should get Jason one as well and they could race.

Jason turned the tables on her asking what she would like. Was there anything? It seemed she had everything in this world that she wanted. Her heart's desire had been given to her already.

Mulder returned while they were clearing away the dinner dishes. He quickly spirited Jason away into his office.

"Well? What did Father Ray say?"

Mulder stood with his hands on his hips, excited about what he had accomplished. "I think it's gonna happen, Sport. Father Ray will perform the ceremony on New Years Eve at 7 o'clock. I called Margaret Scully and she wasn't even surprised. She said she'll try to get the brothers...two I believe. Charles and Bill. Dana will be disappointed if they're not there." He stopped talking suddenly. All of a sudden reality came crashing down on him. Dana Scully was going to marry him. It's was happening.

"I have a great idea, Dad. Why don't we ask Gloria to help us with the flowers and decorating and stuff. I'm pretty sure she'd want to."

It was a good idea. Gloria was a good friend. She had been Kate's best friend and remained his close friend even after Kate's death. He had told Gloria about Dana, and she was delighted. She, too, assured him, without being asked that Kate would not want him to be alone forever. He quickly dialed her number, but there was no answer.

"Well, we can try Gloria again tomorrow. Now, what we need to do is get down to the tux rental place tomorrow and pick something out."

Jason smiled at his father. It had been a long time since he'd seen him this excited about anything. There were still a few details to work out, but the big part was done.

For his part, Mulder was beyond excited. Classes at the University were over and he could turn his full attention to the wedding. His only problem was the honeymoon part. New Years was on a Wednesday this year. Perhaps he could persuade her to take a few days. If he was really lucky, maybe they could get somewhere warm for a long weekend. Mrs. Scully had volunteered to stay with Jason, which he thought was a great idea. Jason would love her, and it was the closest thing he'd get to a grandmother. Yes, things were going along well.

By the time Dana returned to work on Monday morning, tuxedos had been rented, matching wedding bands purchased, and reservations at a large hotel for a small dinner party had been made. What remained were flowers and travel plans. His instruction to the travel agent was someplace where it's warm - anyplace where it's warm and spare no expense.

In the week that followed there were three more murders. This was like no case that the Boston Police had seen before. After his initial look at the file and his inability to make any headway on a profile, Dana quit talking about it. She preferred to leave her work at the office. Fox Mulder had seen too much death in his lifetime, had been too close to death himself. So it was disturbing when she heard his voice over the hustle and bustle of a forensic collection team.

She'd received a call about the latest body and made her way to the address provided by Dan Greenhowe. What on earth was Fox doing here? He was seated on the sofa, surrounded by detective asking questions. He looked visibly shaken, wringing his hands nervously.

"Mulder? What are you doing here?" she asked, drawing him away from the hovering detectives.

The eyes that stared back at her were wild. "Gloria...she was my friend."

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I called her all day yesterday and no one answered, so this morning I decided to drop by. She...she had some papers for me. I noticed that her car was in the garage and..."

"Let me guess, you kicked the door in?"

"I was worried. It didn't take much, and yes, I kicked the door in. I seem to recall that preventing an unnecessary liver transplant for you once. Anyway, I found her on the floor in here, the cord to the stereo wrapped around her throat."

>From the corner of her eye she saw Detective Greenhowe approaching.

"Dr. Scully, did I here you say Mulder?" he asked, turning his attention to Fox. "Are you Fox Mulder?"

Mulder looked at Scully, then at the detective, confused.

"Yes, Dan, this is Fox Mulder. Detective Greenhowe is in charge of this case, Mulder."

Dan Greenhowe ducked his head. "Well, temporarily. The FBI has been working up a profile. We've called them in on this one."

Mulder and Scully looked at each other. The same thought occupied their minds at the same moment.

"Shit." They chimed at each other. Mulder had taken enough from the FBI establishment during his time there to last two lifetimes. Spooky and Mrs. Spooky they used to call them. For Scully it was guilt by association. Looking around the room it was easy to spot the two FBI agents.

"Over there." Scully nodded to the two men at the back of the crowd. Mulder looked, then turned away. To Dan Greenhowe he nodded.

"Am I through here?" he asked, his face tense.

"I think so. It was a pleasure to meet you sir. I wondered what happened to you. When Dr. Scully came to work here..."

Mulder clutched Dana's hand tighter, signaling to her his desire to leave. After making her excuses to the detective she followed her distraught fiance out of the house. He was waiting in his car.

"I'm sorry about your friend.," she said quietly as he sat staring out the window at the crush of people gathered on Gloria's street. Morbid curiosity drew them to anyplace with police cars and an ambulance. He watched as they wheeled the body out, sadly shaking his head as he saw the crowd strain forward, trying, he supposed, to get a glimpse of a dead body.

"Poor Gloria. She was Kate's best friend, and mine too I suppose. This isn't right." He turned to Scully, turned his intense hazel stare on her. "Why haven't they caught this guy yet?"

"They can't get a handle on a motive."

"How many is this know? Six? Maybe the F-B-I can help them out." He leaned a little to heavy on the FBI part, sarcastically revealing his feelings about the majority of FBI investigations.

"I should go, Fox. I'll call you later when I know anything. I am so sorry about you friend," she said, leaning her forehead against his, her hand behind his neck. They stayed that way for a minute, silently communing with each other, then she got out of the car and went back do to her job. He watched her walk away and started the car, returning home.

The house was dark and cold when he got there. For the first time in a long time the old feelings of loss and guilt bubbled up. Maybe if he'd paid more attention to the case when he had the chance he could have contributed something. Gloria...I'm sorry, Kate. I might have been able to prevent this. His focus was pulled to the noise on the street. It was the school bus. He was surprised to see that he'd been sitting in the living room in the dark for an hour, never removed his coat or gloves. He went to meet Jason at the door. God, he'd have to tell Jason about Gloria.

"Hi, Sport. How was school?" he asked, hoping not to sound too artificial.

Jason was dumping his books on the table by the door and removing his coat. Gloria had been so kind to them when Kate died. She and Jason were close. She had been consulting with Jason about the flowers for the chapel just yesterday. A crippling rage burned through his body. Why was there such evil on the earth? How could people do the things they did? Child abuse, spousal abuse, torture, murder, rape...it had been a long time for him. A very long time since he'd been exposed first hand to the blackness of man's soul.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Jason asked, sensing that something was wrong. This was unfamiliar territory for him. He'd seen his dad deal with the pain of loss, but not the accompanying rage over the senselessness of it. He had kept his rage from Jason before.

"I don't know how to put it any other way, Jason, except to just tell you the truth. It's Gloria. Remember I tried to call her yesterday? There was no answer and she didn't return my calls? I went over there this morning. She's dead, Jason. Murdered."

His mouth fell open, and his eyes filled with tears. "But, Dad...Gloria never hurt anyone."

Mulder quickly gathered his son in his arms. "I know, it all seems so unfair, and you're right. It is. Gloria was a good woman. But good people die. We know that, don't we?"

Scully knew what she was in for when she got home. Both Fox and Jason were pretty upset. She suspected that Mulder would be feeling guilty. But poor Jason was shaken.

She heated some soup for them, but she was the only one eating. Mulder had gone off to his office and had his head buried in the computer. Scully went and knocked on Jason's door. He was doing his homework, but from the way he was leaning his head on his hand, Scully would bet that not much of that homework would be right.

"Jason, I made some soup. Would you like me to bring you some?"

He didn't turn his head, didn't try to meet her eye. "No...thanks."

She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "I know how you're feeling Jason. I've lost people I loved, people I was close to. So have you, and you know that in time you find a way to think about things that won't make you sad. In the meantime, if you want to talk, about anything at all, I'd be happy to listen."

It was barely audible, but she heard a whispered thank-you.

When she returned to the kitchen to clean up, Mulder was already there. Sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his hands were buried in soapy water, and he was making a great effort at concentrating on the dishes. She went to stand by him, leaning against the counter, her arms folded across her body.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he responded after a long pause. "It's just been a while, you know?"

She reached up and put her arms around his shoulders. She was used to it, the constant presence of death.

"I know."

"I want to know everything they know. There must be something that's getting overlooked."

"We can go and talk to Dan Greenhowe tomorrow. "

They had agreed to meet at the courthouse the following morning. Scully was testifying in a murder case. Afterward they would go talk to Greenhowe about the murder of Gloria Stanhope.

Mulder stopped and applied for a marriage license, then made his way to the courtroom. He slipped into the row next to Scully.

"I've already testified. We can go," she whispered.

He took her hand and stood to leave, noticing that the courtroom door opened and two men stepped in. Scully recognized them as the FBI agents at the murder scene the day before.

Det. Greenhowe allowed Mulder to see the crime scene photos for all six murders. Scully watched his making mental notes of the details of each scene as had always been his habit. He could commit the tiniest detail to memory, recall facts about a crime scene that might escape someone else.

Their request to be granted access to Gloria's house was granted, and a uniformed policeman accompanied them to the small house.

They had only been there a few minutes when the FBI agents joined them.

"Mr. Mulder, what are you doing here?"

Mulder turned and responded sarcastically. "Thought I'd collect a few souvenirs."

"I think you should go. We don't need you butting in on this case."

Scully went to stand between the two men. "Look, Detective Greenhowe gave us permission to come here. Mulder was a close friend of the victim. Perhaps he will pick up on something no one else has."

The tension in the room was building. Mulder's instant dislike of the two nameless suits was apparent. She turned to look up at him, hoping to communicate a warning. Don't start anything. Not if you want to pursue Gloria's killer. She was reassured that it worked when she saw him turn away, his offensive stance relaxing. He backed away, pulling a photo album from the shelf. He occupied himself with the album for several minutes, then returned it to its place on the jammed bookshelf.

"You know, I don't recall having heard your name or seen a badge. Don't agents have to identify themselves anymore?"

The two men looked at each other, shrugged, then pulled badges from their coat pockets. Mulder made note of the number on one badge, then waited while Scully exited the room before him.

Once back at home, he made his way into his office and began pouring over the details of the cases. All six victims had been strangled with a cord or a rope or belt, something from their own home. All six were missing some part of their body; a finger, a hand, one had had their throat slit, and according to Scully, the larynx had been removed. One victim's heart had been cut from his chest.

What was the connection? Perhaps the way to find out was through their connections at the college. He hacked his way into the college personnel records and checked out Gloria Stanhope. Most of what was listed he knew already.

It was well after midnight when Jason came in to the room.

"Dad? Aren't you going to bed?" he asked.

He looked up and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, soon Jason. I was going over the details of all these murders hoping to find some way to help the police."

"Any luck?"

He shook his head. "No, not yet. But I'm not going to give up."

He turned off the monitor on the computer and accompanied his son upstairs, waiting while he slipped into bed.

"I read in the paper that Gloria's family is going to have a graveside service tomorrow. Would you like to go?"

The boy thought about that. "I would. Can we all go?"

He smiled. What would he do, how would he feel if he'd had to attend a funeral at the age of 12? He was so screwed up when he was 12. There just were no comparisons between himself and Jason at this age.

"Yes, I think we can. Get some sleep now, okay?"

Scully had fallen asleep reading. Her bedside light was still on, and her hand held a book on her chest. Mulder kneeled beside her, gently pulling the book from her grasp. Sleepy, blue eyes opened slowly and she asked what time it was.

"It's late. Sleep, Dana," he whispered and turned out her light. After brushing his teeth and changing, he slipped under the covers and waited while she adjusted herself to his presence in the bed. She turned and curled herself into his side, pulling the blankets up to her nose. Only when she had settled, did he close his eyes. In two days it would be Christmas. But the feeling of joy he had experienced before was gone.

It was 23 degrees out, a very cold day. But the sun was shining. Wasn't it supposed to be raining on the day of a funeral? He stood between Dana and Jason at the edge of the open grave, looking sadly at Gloria's family members who stood on the other side, all three of them. He barely heard what the priest said. His focus was divided between Jason's cold hand clutching his own and the grieving members of the Stanhope family.

What was the right way to handle grief? How do you "handle" the terrible pain? If you have religious beliefs to fall back on there might be some comfort in knowing that the soul or essence of someone you loved had moved on to another type of existence, waiting patiently for you to get there.

But how do you deal with loss? The empty place that was occupied by that friend? As a psychologist, he should have some of those answers at the ready, but not today. The only thing he really knew for sure was that time was the best healer. Eventually the deep abyss of pain and loneliness turns to merely a numbing loss and after a while you are finally able to think about the person you've lost fondly, without the pain. And you remember the good stuff, not the bad.

Perhaps they had not handled Kate's death as well as it appeared. Maybe the grieving continued long after a death. The more he thought about it the more it seemed to him that both his own and Jason's reaction to the death of their friend was a bit extreme. He asked Jason to wait in the car while he spoke to Dana privately.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing without being told that he had something on his mind.

He looked at her face, her nose pink from the cold. He loved this woman completely, perhaps to distraction. She never left his heart, ever. But today, he needed to be alone with his son. He didn't want to take a chance on hurting her by exploring his feelings for his dead wife with his son. He tossed a quick prayer to the sky, asking for understanding from his love.

He gripped her shoulders and stared into her eyes with an intensity that grabbed her attention instantly.

"I don't want you to misunderstand what I am about to say. I want to share this with you, I do. But I think that Jason needs me. He needs to talk about his mother, and so do I. I don't think it's something you want to be in on." His eyes held hers, pleading for understanding.

It was beginning to dawn on her. A new woman in the house, in their lives and hearts. Perhaps neither of them had found a way to say a final goodbye to Kate and the death of her best friend had made it apparent. He was right.

"Do what you need to do, Fox. Why don't you just drop me at the house?"

He winked at her. "And that's why I love you so much. Have I told you that today? If I haven't, let me say it now. I love you Dana. Will you marry me?"

She reached up, removing her glove to place her hand lovingly on his cheek, needing to feel his skin beneath her fingers, to convey some measure of comfort with her touch. "I believe I will..."

She was cut off as his mouth moved over hers, kissing her, drawing from her strength. She always knew what he needed. Even when it wasn't the best thing for her.

They returned close to dinnertime with Chinese take-out, Jason's favorite. After dinner Mulder went in the kitchen to clean up, leaving Jason and Dana alone.

He sat down beside her and they talked for a while, exchanging pleasantries, idly chatting about things. It took Jason a while to get to his point.

"Dana, I hope I didn't hurt your feelings today. Dad said I didn't, but I wanted to talk to you myself. I'm sorry I got so upset today."

Dana carefully took his hand in hers, stopping any more apologies. "Oh, Jason, you don't have to apologize to me for your feelings. Feel them, have them. I learned a long time ago about feelings that you don't use, that you won't admit to. I want you to know that I understand completely about how your friend's death brought back feelings about your mom. I understand that you miss her, and maybe more so now that I am here. I know I can never take her place, but I'd like to maybe try to continue on for her. So any time you need my shoulder, or need someone to talk to, I'd be honored to stand in for your mom if you'll let me."

Jason raised his tear-filled eyes to hers and threw his arms around her waist. She clutched him to her, comforting him, letting him cry it out. There was no need for explanations. If all he needed was someone to hold him while he cried, so be it. She leaned her cheek on his dark head, rubbing his back and whispering to him reassuringly.

Later, as the sadness of that day gave way to the expectation of the next, Fox pulled Dana into his arms and thanked her for her incredible generosity to his son. It touched a place he'd not known existed inside him, a place that had lain quietly sleeping.

"Perhaps all he needed was a woman's touch. Sometimes you just need someone to hold you and let you cry."

It seemed like permission to him, permission to cry. He didn't cry for Kate, he cried for Gloria, for the loss of his friend. And for the pain of a child who had lost his mother and relived it that day.

He didn't cry long. Soon her efforts to comfort him created a heat between them that would not be denied.

Scully didn't go to work on Christmas Eve. She decided that the men in her life needed a dose of normalcy, a little extra special Christmas cheer. Early in the day she sent Fox to the grocery store with a list of supplies. When he returned, they were each assigned a duty. Jason was making hot apple cider and helping with the cookie baking. Mulder was assigned the pasta detail. He had decided it would good idea to have lasagna for dinner. It was his specialty. Jason declared that he made the best lasagna around. He even made sauce from scratch.

"I'm impressed. You just keep amazing me, Mulder."

She was overseeing cookie baking and Mulder was chopping garlic.

"What? A little garlic, a little onion, some tomato sauce?"

"Well, you've obviously tapped into a hidden talent." She watched as he threw some herbs into the bubbling concoction.

"I have talents I haven't begun to use," he said, moving his eyebrows up and down suggesting something more than culinary abilities.

"Oh, really," she responded, moving closer to him. "And what might they be, these talents?"

He leaned down and kissed her slowly, his tongue grazing the sweet inside of her mouth. "Meet me under the mistletoe tonight. We'll discuss it."

When the sauce was bubbling happily and cookies were cooling around the kitchen she asked them if they would mind if she went to church later.

"By yourself?" Jason questioned.

"No," Mulder stated. "I think we would all like to go...If that's all right with you Dana."

It was all right. In fact it pleased her greatly that they wanted to go. Later, kneeling on the rail of the large downtown cathedral she offered special prayers for Fox and Jason, asking God to keep them safe, and thanking Him for their presence in her life. And she lit candles. One for her father, one for Melissa and one for Kate.

The sadness of the previous day was briefly forgotten as they sat around the living room late into the night drinking steaming cups of cider, singing silly songs and playing trivial pursuit. Mulder liked that game, but Scully declared it was no fun to play with someone who never forgot anything once he read it.

It was a perfect Christmas. About noon it began to snow. Presents were opened and shared. It was the best holiday Dana Scully had had for many years. In a way she envied Mulder his life, and that was something she never thought she'd say. He'd had a family. He'd had people in his life to love him, people with whom he could share these times. True, she had family. Two brothers, their families and her mother. But it just wasn't the same. Every Christmas she wondered where was Mulder. This year she was happy to say that she knew exactly where he was.

Among her gifts was a journal from Mulder. A blank journal covered in deep green leather and embossed with her name. He had encouraged her to read the first page. She recognized his handwriting, and the verse as a song lyric.

If you're feeling fancy free- Come wander through the world with me. And anyplace we chance to be will be our rendezvous. Two for the road- we'll travel down the years, Collecting precious memories, Selecting souvenirs and living life the way we please. In summertime the sun will shine, In winter we'll drink summer wine. And every day that you are mine will be a lovely day. As long as love still wears a smile, I know that we'll be two for the road. And that's a long, long time.

"Two for the road, huh?" she asked him, smiling and making no pretense to explain away the tears collecting in her crystal-blue eyes.

"Yeah," he said pulling her against him, planting his lips on her moist, warm mouth. "Like it used to be. Mulder and Scully." He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

"Mulder and Mulder sounds better to me."

He hugged her close, hiding his face and the wicked grin. His plans for a New Years Eve surprise were going along smoothly.

It was the day after Christmas that he went to the College personnel department and asked for the records on the victims of the serial killer.

What was it that he was missing? There had to be something. He quickly reviewed his FBI training. "A well- trained profiler examines the crime scene and the manner in which the victim died and then, from the killer's unique behavior towards the victim-his "signature"-deduces certain information about him. But along with the many rules and categories, the investigator's intuition and experience play key roles."

"So, Professor, exactly what is your intuition telling you?" he asked aloud, tossing his pencil across the room. Right now his intuition was telling him bupkiss.

He was interrupted by a knock on his study door. It was Jason, requesting some time on the Internet to do some research for a paper he had to finish before Christmas vacation ended.

"Homework over the holidays? Which one of your teachers gave you homework?" he asked, before noticing the embarrassed look on Jason's face.

"Well...to tell the truth, I could have finished it before the vacation. But I was too excited. Anyway, I need to look up some stuff. Can I use the computer now or should I come back?"

"Go ahead, I could use a break." He moved aside, allowing the boy to get in front of the screen.

"What was the assignment?" He watched Jason whip through the search functions in the browser to a sight on Gods and Goddesses.

"Just a report on Greek Mythology, nothing specific. Actually, I got my idea from Gloria...she helped me get started."

"Really?" he asked, not paying attention so much to what he said, watching the screen images flip by.

"Yeah, she told me she was in a book club, you know the kind where they all read the same book and then talk about it and stuff? Anyway, they read this book about...Oh, I don't remember exactly, but she said that Greek mythology had quite an influence over things and that I might write a report about all that."

Gloria was in a book club? That wasn't in her personnel record. But he remembered seeing that photograph in her apartment. A bunch of people he'd never seen before, but several of them appeared to be holding books, the same book.

"Jason...do me a favor. Look up book clubs in the local area and get me some names to call. When Dana comes home, tell her I need to go back to Gloria's place and check out some things."

"Okay, Dad. "

The head librarian at the University Library was more than willing to share the names of some of the local book clubs. If he was right, he'd be able to help the police find Gloria's killer, and the sooner the better.

In less than two hours he had been able to collect the names of six clubs in the general Boston area. Unfortunately, it was holiday time and few people and catching people at home was a problem. He arrived home to find Jason still on the computer, and eager to share what information he had collected.

"There wasn't too much on the Internet, but I called some of the bookstores around town. I assumed you were looking for the name of the club that Gloria was in. Here are two possible groups, and the number to call."

He gripped his son's shoulder. "Good work Jas."

Jason beamed happily, knowing he had contributed to the effort to find his friend's killer.

By the time Dana arrived home, Mulder had put together a compelling set of clues as to the murder's identity. This was no serial killing, but perhaps as he had suspected all along a case of revenge. A serial killer would not usually focus on one small group of people, methodically working his way down a list. .

"But what is the motive?" she asked, trying to keep up with him.

"I don't know, maybe they didn't like his ties or something."

"We should go to the police with this," she said, beginning to gather up his notes.

His hand stayed hers. "No. We need proof that these people knew each other and I haven't been able to get anyone on the phone about the book clubs. But I think I have a plan. Do you remember that photograph I was looking at the other day at Gloria's?"

He explained his theory and she suggested they call for permission to go into the dead woman's place again.

"Right. The FBI is in on this case now and you know I'm such a popular guy with them. They're not gonna let us get anywhere near her place. But...I have a plan." He smiled, an evil grin crossing his lips.

"Oh, I don't think I like the sound of this." She shook her head.

"I'm sure you won't, but you're gonna help me anyway, aren't you?"

She crossed her arms, considering all the consequences, then threw her hands in the air.

"What the hell. What's the worse thing that could happen? No!" she threw one hand up in front of her. "Don't answer that. Rhetorical."

He explained his plan and waited for her to object. She did.

"No gun, no backup?"

"I have a gun, and so do you. And a reason to have it on me. We can take Jason with us, leave him in the car with the cell phone..."

"I have a really bad feeling about this plan..," she said even as she was retrieving her coat and a flashlight. She explained the plan to Jason while they waited for Fox to return from their bedroom with the guns that ordinarily remained locked away and hidden in the bedroom. Jason listened to his instructions as they drove to Gloria's.

"Don't unlock the door for anyone except myself or Dana. Get down on the floor and stay out of sight. If we're not back in ten minutes, I want you to call the police and the fire department. Fire trucks make a lot of noise and there's a fire substation four blocks from the house. Are you okay with this Jason?"

"I can do it, but why are you afraid? Do you think the killer's coming back?"

He shot a look at Dana over Jason's head. A worried look, which she returned.

"No, not the killer. The FBI. There were some agents at the house that day, and I don't think they like me very much."

"Oh." Now Jason was worried. He'd heard the stories Mulder had told his mom about his FBI days, about the trouble he and Scully used to get into and it wasn't always the "bad guys" who delivered it. Sometimes the good guys turned out to be the bad guys.

He pulled the car to a stop across the street and down the block a bit. After checking the street for FBI cars, he turned to his son.

"Don't forget, Sport. Stay on the floor. Give us ten minutes then send in the cavalry if you have to."

Standing outside the car, he turned to Dana. "Okay, Doc. Ready?"

She nodded, and they made their way to the house, checking quietly to see if there was anyone else there. When it seemed safe, Mulder deftly picked the lock on the door and they slipped inside. He located the photo album while Scully stood guard, peering through the blinds watching for trouble.

He removed the group picture from the album and tucked it into his jacket, then he and Scully slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind him. They had almost cleared the edge of the house when Scully heard a noise behind them.

"Mulder...did you..."

He was about six feet in front of her. She saw him stop suddenly and crumble to the ground. She reached for the weapon she had in her belt and waited.

"Hold it right there."

She extended her arms in preparation to fire the gun if necessary. But there was nothing to fire at. No one was there. She turned quickly, checking every direction. Nothing but shadows. When she was comfortable that there was no danger, she moved to the crumpled form on the ground.

He was out cold, face down in the snow. Rolling him over, she whispered to him. "Mulder... come on. I knew this was a bad plan."

There was a gash on his forehead, dripping blood into his hair. His eyes seemed to flutter, and he tried to focus, clutching his head in pain.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"Let's get you out of the snow. Can you stand?" She took his arm, helping him to his feet.

Once vertical, he took his handkerchief to stem the flow of blood down his face. They returned to the car to find Jason still huddled on the floor.

"Did you get it...what happened to your head?"

Scully jumped in to calm his fears. "We got the picture and as we were leaving, someone jumped out between us and hit him in the head."

Mulder stared at her for a minute. Hit him, never said a word and left. Weird.

Back at the house, Jason hovered while Scully attended to Mulder's wound. A couple of butterfly bandages and some antiseptic cream and he would be fine.

"You're going to have a killer headache tomorrow."

"What tomorrow? I've got it now." He took the ice pack she handed him and gently put it to his throbbing head.

"So what's next, Sherlock?" Scully asked.

"Look at this picture. Recognize the faces?"

There were a dozen or so people, a group photo. Two of them did register as two of the murder victims. Then there was Gloria Stanhope.

"Give this to the police, Dana. These are the next victims and maybe the killer is even in the shot, although I doubt it."

It took the police two days to catch the killer. Using old fashioned police methods they identified the faces in the photo and questioned them.

Scully shared the details over dinner.

"Turns out this guy was asked to leave the group after making some unwanted advances to some of the women. Imagine. Kill the members of your reading group because your pickup lines are out of date."

Mulder chuckled. "Did they get a confession out of the guy?"

"Yes. And an explanation on the mutilated bodies as well."

"I have that figured out. The muses, right?" he asked, slipping Jason a quick wink. Without Jason's help he would probably never have figured it out.

She tilted her head and looked at him suspiciously. "Oh, come on. You heard it on the news, didn't you?"

"No. I researched the people in the group and the book they were reading at the time the killer got booted. It was a novel, a story about the Gods of ancient Greece. The muses are the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne. There were nine, each with her own specialty. History, astronomy, poetry, dance, and so on. The killer removed something relating to one of the muses from each body. A foot from a dancer, the larynx from a singer and so on."

She shook her head, baffled at his revelations. He was dead on with the killers confession.

"I am completely astonished at how you made those connections."

His grin told her that he made no apologies for being good at it. He would eventually fess up to her that Jason had helped greatly.

"Okay, mister know-it-all, who hit you on the head?"

"It was the killer, come to fetch the picture from Gloria's book. He was there that night. He must have heard that I was asking questions about the reading group and figured it out about the picture. He came to get it, just like we did. I guess it pissed him off that we were there first."

"I think I've learned something here. I'm the coroner. You're the shrink. Right?"

"You catch on quick, Doc."

New Years Eve

She had a date for New Years Eve for the first time in ten years.

She was astonished to find he had rented a tux.

"Where are we going?" she asked while waiting for him to zip the back of her dress.

He stared at the slope of her back, exposed to his view while she waited for him to finish with the zipper. It was a lovely back, and a lovely dress as well. She looked good in green. But she would look good wrapped in newspaper.

"It's a surprise," he responded. He was a bad liar, and chose to tell the truth instead. It was a surprise, a happy one he hoped.

"Done. Your turn," he said, as he handed her the black pleated cummerbund he would wear with his white dinner jacket.

She clipped the cummerbund and side by side they stood looking at each other in the floor length mirror in their bedroom. His arm slipped around her waist.

"Good looking couple, hmm?"

She giggled and turned her face up to his. "Exceptionally."

An hour later they stood outside the University Chapel. He had made up some lame story about needing to talk to the chaplain about something. Even he thought it sounded pretty thin, but it got them there without too many questions. Scully figured maybe he needed to visit the chapel for spiritual reasons that he didn't want to discuss. New years resolutions maybe.

He opened the doors, and his hand on her lower back guided her forward. She was surprised to find the chapel occupied. What were these people doing here on New Year's Eve? At the sound of the closing door, they all stood and turned around.

Dana found herself staring into the faces of all the members of her family. Her mother, her brothers and their wives. Standing at the end of the aisle was Jason, beaming at them.

"Mulder, what...?"

He turned her to face him, his eyes searching hers for the doubts that he expected to find there. But there was not doubt only confusion.

"Listen to me. I figured if I waited for you to have the time to plan a wedding, I'd be waiting a long time. So Jason and I put our heads together."

She looked around. Everyone here just as she would have wanted it. And was that a string quartet playing? She looked up into his eyes. He was serious.

"Well, help me with my coat then."

He slipped her coat from her shoulders, leaving it draped over a pew in the back. He took her hand and walked with her to the front of the chapel, where Father Ray waited. Her mother was there, beaming at them. She handed her a small bouquet of pink roses, then kissed her cheek.

Mulder smiled at Mrs. Scully then looked at Dana.

"Ready?"

She inhaled deeply to calm her mind, then nodded her head. "I'm ready."

Father Ray took them through a fairly traditional ceremony through the exchanging of rings, then paused for them to speak to each other. Standing face to face, holding his hands in hers and looking her square in the eyes, Fox went first.

"I've had lots of time to think about this, what I would say to you. When we first met I knew you'd be a part of my life for a very long time. You've been my confidant, my friend and my savior I think. Without you I may not have lived this long. You've looked into the blackness of my soul and loved me anyway. More importantly, you believed in me. After I thought I'd lost you, given up hope, here we are. I love you, Dana, as I have always loved you. From this day on our lives are joined."

The lump in her throat felt the size of Iowa. She knew she needed to get control and respond. She took a few deep breaths and began to talk to him as if they were the only ones in the room.

"Whew! You certainly can keep a secret, Mulder. I'm trying to retain my composure, but you've taken my breath away. You've always done that. When I think I have a handle on things, bam...here comes Fox Mulder on the fast break headed for the slam dunk."

She stopped a minute, and watched him smile at her reference to his favorite sport.

"I know you used to feel you weren't good enough for me. That's what kept us apart, really. Not the things you did, not the danger you put yourself in, but your lack of faith in yourself. I love you and I do believe in you. You have always been the best man I know. The most generous, loyal, kind-hearted man. And you never gave up on me either. When I refused to believe your theories, when I was sure that I would die from the cancer, you didn't give up. You knew that there was an answer for that and you wouldn't let me give up either. I owe you my life. And now I gratefully join my life with yours."

There wasn't a dry eye left in the chapel. Fox opened his arms and Dana stepped into his embrace.

In less than half an hour, vows that bound them to each other forever had been spoken and rings exchanged. Before she realized the truth of what happened, she was being congratulated by her mother.

"Mom...were you in on this?"

"Yes, well Fox called me to get your brothers here. And Jason and I are going to spend some time together while you're away on your honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" she looked up.

"Yes, Dana. Honeymoon. If you can get some time off that is. Just a long weekend, really. But in the Virgin Islands." He shared this information with her anticipating her hesitant response.

It really was too much. The euphoria welled up inside her, finding only one outlet. She began to cry, and turned her face into Fox's shirt front. Mrs. Scully ushered everyone out of the chapel and into their cars with directions to the hotel the party would be at. Left alone he ushered them to a pew and sat down, still holding her close.

"If I wasn't so completely happy about how things turned out I would be very angry with you." She blurted at him, dabbing at her eyes with his handkerchief.

"You don't like surprises? You're not too disappointed, are you?"

She thought about that. He was there, there was her family, nice music, a party, and a lovely ceremony. It had turned out well, it was just such a shock. The look on his face conveyed his distress, which she immediately relieved.

"No, I'm not disappointed. You really are the most romantic man. Who knew? It was lovely, really. You and Jason, you both did a lovely job. And...we're married, aren't we?"

She took a moment and looked at the rings on her left hand. The elegant solitaire sat next to a simple gold band. Mr. and Mrs. Fox Mulder.

"Yes, married," he said, and pulled her against him, kissing her over and over, then picking her up off the bench and into his arms. She clung to his neck laughing as he twirled around several times.

"Now, it's New Years Eve, and there's a party waiting for us."

She grabbed her coat off the bench as they passed, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "And it's about time we had one," she whispered softly.

(end of story)

Note: Credit is given to Irving Berlin for lyrics to "How Deep is the Ocean". Credit is given to Henry Mancini/Leslie Briccuse for lyrics to "Two for the Road".