Title: Trading Players
Author: Chesa Baker
Email: Baker_Chesa@hotmail.com
Distribution: Send me a note telling me where it's going so I can come visit
Spoilers: extremely minor spoilers for: Beyond the Sea, Syzygy, Pusher, A 
Christmas Carol/Emily, Duane Barry/Ascension/One Breath, Fight to the 
Future, Pilot, Triangle, The Unnatural-all in succession with the story. 
Essentially, up to S6
Rating: R
Classification: S,R,A
Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance.
Summary: Scully makes a discovery about her soon to be sister-in-law that 
could possibly be the missing link to Mulder's past.
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully and the rest of the Spooky bunch belong to Chris 
Carter, and not me.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*
I'm so happy 'cause today
I've found my friends ...
They're in my head
I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 'cause so are you...
We've broken our mirrors
Sunday morning is everyday for all I care...
And I'm not scared
Light my candles in a daze...
'Cause I've found God
         Nirvana- "Lithium"


Trading Players
  ** Part I **

Sometimes the simple act of his hand pressed against the small of my back is 
enough to drive me insane. I swear to God; I can feel all of his body heat 
boiling inside of me, eminent in all it's glory. In all of those simple 
acts, I don't ever recall a time where the feel of his hand felt nearly as 
good.

Mulder's forehead is resting against mine, and I can feel his heavy pants of 
breath blowing against my face. I suppose that I'm breathing like that too, 
but I can't really tell because I've been breathing like this ever since we 
started this.

One of Mulder's hands is on my head; his fingers threaded through the 
strands of my auburn hair. His is palm cradling the bottom of my skull 
tenderly. Mulder's other hand is on my back. His thumb is drawing soft, 
feather light circles on a fevered patch of skin. I think that I'm about to 
faint. I know that I am.

"Scully?"

I'm forced to open my eyes, and remove my head off of his shoulder to look 
into his eyes.

"Hmmmm?"

A sloppy smile formed across his face as he leaned down, and planted an 
innocent kiss on my upper lip. I moved my lips in accordance with the shape 
of his, and he chuckled softly against me.

"This is forever, right?"

Forever. This is forever. Mulder and I just made love. Why is this such a 
surprise to me ? The major gap in my life was dutifully filled when he 
entered me.

Forever. Mulder and I are forever. *This* is forever. Forever.

"Beyond forever, Mulder," I told him before running my entire hand down the 
length of his face, and resting it against his chest. "I adore you."

"Well- I- uh, I adore you too, Scully."

I know that it wasn't what he expected. I want to tease him for a while. 
Kind of like the way that he's been teasing me for the past six years with 
his suggestive innuendoes, and his flirtatious behavior; displayed to me, 
and the exceptions to a horny detective, or a disingenuous ex-girlfriend.

"I love your mouth, Mulder. Especially your lips."

"Is that all you love ?" he asked me troublesomely.

"No. I love your ass. You've got a great ass, Mulder."  I slapped the left 
side of it for emphasis. He sighed with disappointment.

"Good night, Scully," Mulder groaned before rolling over, and tugging firmly 
on the comforter. I smiled warmly, and traced the outline of the shell of 
his ear. I leaned down. My lips were a mere inch away from his ear.

"I love you, Spooky," I whispered faintly into his ear. At first I was under 
the impression that he didn't hear me, because he made no movement at all. 
My second impression was that he didn't care. Before a third impression 
could enter my head, he rolled over with a giddy yelp emitting from his 
mouth. Mulder's hands snaked out from under the comforter, and he pinned me 
down to the mattress.

"You are such a tease, Dana Katherine." A smile twitched at the corners of 
mouth. I faithfully swooped my mouth down catching him off-guard in a kiss. 
I pulled away almost as quickly as the kiss began. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"I love you too."


*X*X*X*X*X*X*


It's such an exalted feeling waking up to the sound of water splashing 
against the window paine, and a hand draped possessively against the swell 
of your breast. The best part is, it's not just any arm. It's Mulder's arm. 
*My* Mulder. All of *my* Mulder, and nobody else.

Not Phoebe's Mulder, not Dr. Bambi's Mulder, not Detective White's Mulder, 
and certainly not Diana Fowley's Mulder. It's Dana Scully's Mulder, and I 
refuse to let anybody take this away from me. To take *him* away from me.

I deserve this. He deserves this. We deserve each other.

"You know you are a- sweet little, heartbreaker. Uh. Foxy...."

What the hell ?

"You know you are a- sweet little, love maker. Uh. Foxy...."

Mulder?

"I wanna take you home. I won't do you no wrong... Uh. Foxy Scully...."

I begin to giggle tremendously. God help me now. Through out my life, I have 
never, ever, *ever* giggled like this. Well, not in front of Mulder.

"You like it, Scully?"

"Yeah. I love it," I mumbled hazily.

"You just stick to re-writing Einstien, and I'll stick to re-writing 
Hendrix."

"Sounds like a plan. Oh, uh- Mulder?"

"Hmmm ?" Mulder's nose nuzzles deeper into the groove of my neck. I can't 
help the content sigh that escapes from my mouth.

"Can you look over your shoulder, and see what time it is?"

There's a pause.

"What time does your flight leave?"

"At One o'clock."

"You've got another 2 good hours before we have to be at the airport. What 
do you propose we do?" Mulder asked with a facetiousness bearing in his 
tone.

"How bout' we play a game?"

"What kind of game, Scully?" Mulder bats his eye lashes at me, and he looks 
like a little boy that charms his way into everything with his Peter Pan 
complex. Come to think of it, he still fits the description......

"Hide and come get it," I responded adamantly.

"You are going to be the death of me," Mulder whispered before leaning into 
claim a stealthy kiss from me that took me off guard.

Could life possibly get any better than it is now?


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

Charlie is exactly a year and a month younger than me. Yep, that would make 
his birthday January 23rd, 1965. Since our birthdays are so close together, 
Charlie and I are really close.

I suppose that happens in every big family. You get attached to one sibling, 
and they automatically become your favorite. Charlie is my favorite. Bill 
and Melissa were as close as Charlie and I are. Or, were....

Tomorrow is my brother's 35th birthday, and I'm going to spend a week with 
him, because that's what he wants, and nothing else. That made me feel 
really special, because he didn't ask my mother, or Bill to visit. You know 
why?

Because I'm his favorite.

I haven't seen Charlie in about two months. He spent Christmas at his new 
girlfriend's home with her family. The last time I got the privilege of 
spending time with him was Thanksgiving, when he flew home.

I was really looking forward to this vacation, until this morning.

It must be irony, though. The night that Mulder and I finally make the vow 
to be one forever, I have to go away for an entire week. With out him, 
thank-you-very-much.

By the looks of it, Mulder isn't very pleased either. His lower lip is 
puffed out in a sluggish fashion, and his grip on my waist is unyieldingly 
strained. It's almost if he doesn't want to let me go.

"I don't want to let you go, Scully."

Ah ha ! Am I psychic, or what?

"You're going to have to, Tiger," I told him firmly, as I placed my hands 
firmly on his.

Mulder makes one final attempt by batting those dangerous eyelashes at me, 
and I have no option but to shake my head, and groan.

"Mulder, you have the worst timing that I know."

"What is that supposed to mean, Scully?" He sounds somewhat offended.

"Well, couldn't everything that happened yesterday- couldn't you have done 
that next week when I came back? I mean- now I'm going to be thinking about 
you on the plane, and at my brother's house, and when I meet his girlfriend- 
whom I've been very eager about meeting, and you practically ruined my 
trip."

"If I didn't know better, Scully, I think that you're paying me a subliminal 
compliment."

"For ruining my trip?" I asked him sardonically.

"For loving me that much," he said earnestly. Almost immediately, I hooked 
my arm around the back of his neck, and pulled him down to me. I think that 
I caught him off guard, because his eyes widened with amusement as I pressed 
my lips vigilantly against his.

As I kissed him senseless, I heard the calling of my flight over the 
intercom. I sensed that Mulder was hesitant to let go of me, so I slid my 
hand down his back, and stopped directly at his ass. I gave it a big pinch, 
and he immediately jumped out of my hold.

"Scully, please don't start anything that you don't have any intention of 
finishing."

"Oh, I intend to finish it." Mulder's eyebrow quirked up curiously. "When I 
return from San Fransisco, Mulder."

His eyes slipped shut, and he nodded.

"Fair enough." I leaned up, and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips, and then 
on his forehead.

"I'll miss you, Scully."

"Yeah. Me too."


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

I never liked flying on planes. Mulder's noticed this a couple of times when 
we were landing, and my hands gripped the arms of the seat for dear life. 
Yes, I admit it. I am afraid of flying, which is ironic, for the billions of 
times that I've been on one.

It happened when I was eight years old, when I went through some heavy 
turbulence, and I got a little queasy. It was a bad experience, and from 
this day on, I hate, and I mean *HATE* with all capitals, flying.

Charlie, however, loves flying. He loves airplanes, and he loves being in 
them. I suppose that's why he became a pilot for Delta. I guess that makes 
me different from him.

My dad was really proud when he made his choice. I remember clearly when the 
six of us were all at dinner, celebrating Charlie's graduation from piloting 
school.

He started to go on about how Charlie, and Bill's *many* talents, and how 
beautiful Melissa is- blah, blah, blah. When he came to me, he froze, and 
the widest grin I have ever seen my father sport, formed mysteriously across 
his face. My dad said the weirdest thing to me that night. I recall it 
clearly. My father said, "And my Starbuck. Cuffing a man with one hand tied 
behind your back, while reciting a medical dictionary isn't something that 
everybody can do." My entire family started to laugh, and it was funny- but 
it was so odd. I didn't know if should take it as a compliment, or as a 
criticism, but I did know that my father meant well. So I shrugged, and 
laughed along with my family.

God, I miss my father. He was such a great father It isn't fair. It really 
isn't. I would give anything to bring him back. He missed out my life. He 
missed out on my struggle to fight cancer. He missed out Melissa's death. 
Maybe it was for the better that he went when he did.

My father missed out on knowing Mulder. He died before I had the chance to 
introduce them. My father would have liked Mulder. The both of them are 
particular about the way things go, and they are unopen to the idea of 
having somebody help them out once in a while.

"Miss- hello?" From the depths of my mind, I can hear the stewardess calling 
to me. Snapping out of my fantasy mode, I looked upwards to face the flight 
attendant in the eye.

"Sorry, miss- but I was wondering if you needed anything to drink."

She kind of looks like that 
*I'm-so-perfect-because-I-can-get-into-Mulder's-pants-because-I-smell-good* 
detective from Comity.

"Um, I'm fine," I replied.

"Sure, fine, whatever," she said swiftly before turning around swiftly. Oh. 
My. God.

"Waitress!" I called out sharply.

"Yes, miss," the waitress gritted through her teeth.

I threw her an imitation smile, and tilted my head to the side.

"I think that I'll have one of those little bottles of vodka, and a cup of 
orange juice."


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

Out of the people huddled around the airport gate, I spotted my little 
brother instantly. He was wearing a long, black, leather trench coat; 
Charlie's arms were crossed over his chest. His rim-wire glasses hung low on 
the bridge of his nose. I instantly noticed that his eyebrow arched upwards 
at the sight of me.

I grinned goofily at him, and stopped a few feet away from where he was 
standing. I crossed my arms over my chest, in the same fashion that he was.

"Still sporting the spiky hair, punk." I told him sternly. He rolled his 
eyes, and shook his head.

"You're still the same old smart ass, butt-brain," Charlie shot back with a 
wide grin. I chuckled as he crossed the space between us, and crushed me to 
his chest with an incriminating force.

"How ya' doing FBI woman?" he asked as Charlie looked down at me through 
those somber glasses of his.

"Good. And you, Airplane boy?"

"Fantastic," Charlie replied as he threw his arm around my shoulder. He 
escorted me down to the baggage claim, as we argued softly about the San 
Fransisco Forty-Niners, and the Washington Redskins.

Luckily, my luggage was all there, and intact. We both grabbed one bag, and 
then he guided me outside in to the darkened sky, towards his car. After 
throwing my bags into the trunk with no grace at all, he eyed the SUV 
skeptically, and then his sight traveled to me.

"I think- that I'd like to see you drive." My eyebrow arched up curiously.

"Why?" I asked him incredulously.

"Because I'd like to see if your tiny little feet can reach the pedals." As 
soon as the joke left his mouth, I extended my hand to his bicep, and it 
made direct contact with it. He yelped in surprise.

"Ouch, that hurt," he whimpered.

"Asshole. We'll see who's feet are tiny." I grabbed the set of keys from his 
hand, and hopped quickly into the drivers seat before Charlie even had the 
chance to react.

I watched carefully as my brother climbed in the passenger seat, and sighed.

"You're a handful. How the hell does that partner of yours put up with you 
all of the time ?"

"Sex. And lots of it," I retorted hastily.

"I'm thinking about asking Julie to marry me."

"Whoa- hold up. Where the hell did that come from?" Charlie shrugged 
earnestly.

"I've been thinking about it for a while. God- I really love her, Day. 
She's- she's- she's the only one that I've ever had such strong feelings 
about. You know?" Charlie asked in a fluster.

"Uh huh," I concluded as I parked the car in his driveway. "So when do I get 
to meet her ?" I added.

His face lit up as he smiled widely.

"She's in there." Charlie grabbed my hand and ushered me towards the steps. 
"C'mon. You'll love her," Charlie added as he jammed the key into the lock, 
and flicked it to it's unlocked position. He pushed it so where it was wide 
open with his free hand, and lead me towards the living room, where his 
girlfriend sat, with her hand propped against the arm of the leather couch.

From my vantage, she had mid-back length, wavy brown hair that could easily 
be interpreted as messy, or sexy. Or both. Damn it, I envied women that have 
hair like that.

Across the television screen, was a movie that I recognized to be the 
Conspiracy Theory.

"Hon-" Charlie called out as his grip on my hand released. She swiftly 
turned around, and perched her weight against the back of the couch, leaning 
on her palms. A brilliant smile formed instantly across her face as she saw 
me.

"You're obviously Dana," she said in a honey-sweet tone. There was something 
oddly familiar about her. Too familiar. Familiar to the point that she could 
easily pass as Samantha Mulder.

I pushed the thought of Mulder's sister out of my mind, and returned her 
warm smile.

"Yep. And you're Julie." I took three steps forward, and shook her extended 
hand formally.

"Julie," I repeated. When I released her hand, a sharp gasp escaped my 
throat when her gaze snagged on mine.

"Dana- what's wrong?" Charlie asked from behind, as he cupped both of my 
shoulder blades in his pamls.

"Your eyes...." my voice trailed off as I gained my posture. I swallowed, 
and allowed my eyes to slip shut to picture Mulder's eyes. It couldn't be 
Samantha Mulder. God- but those eyes. Those eyes were identical to Mulder's.

I opened my eyes again, and Samantha- or Julie, was looking directly into my 
eyes.

"Dana?" she questioned softly.

I shook my head.

"I- I'm sorry," I managed to stutter out. "You just remind me a lot of 
somebody....."

Her look of worry replaced with a fainter, more luke-warm smile.

"Are you sure that you're okay?" Charlie asked with a worried tone hidden in 
his voice.

"Um- yeah. I'm fine. I'll be fine." I restablished my smile again, and 
nodded. I'm fine. Her name is Julie. She's Julie.

And not Samantha.



Trading Players (2 of 3)
Disclaimers and other information in part one

*X*X*X*X*X*X*

As I cradled the ivory colored, portable phone between my ear, and my 
shoulder; I kept my eyes on the big screen TV that sat across the room. 
Charlie was occupying the middle cushion, balancing his laptop computer on 
his thighs.

Three precise rings came from the other side of the line, before I heard a 
click, and a deep, and throaty "Mulder" followed by a soft cough.

"Mulder it's me- what's wrong with your voice? Are you sick?"

He groaned frustratingly, and I couldn't help but smile. He was so cute.

"Yes." I heard a sniffle, and another throaty cough. "I got sick from 
staying out in the cold too long, Scully." His voice was evidently distorted 
from his illness. Mulder's nose was plugged up; his throat was scratchy.

"Why were you out in the cold?"

"First, I stood in line for five hours in the cold because I was getting 
your birthday present. Then, I had to stand outside for another three hours 
because I locked myself out of my car."

"Whoa- you bought me a birthday present, Mulder ? What did you get me?"

"You think that I'm going to tell you?" he asked in a testy fashion. I 
chuckled at his tone, and shook my head.

"Well- you had to wait in line, outside. Is it a concert?"

"Not going to tell you," he stumbled before falling into a series of brutal 
coughs.

"Oh, Spooky, get some rest. You sound absolutely horrible," I tried to sound 
convincing, and flirty at the same time. I suppose that doesn't work for me.

"Yeah. Thanks." He sniffled grimly. "I miss you," Mulder added softly.

My expression slackened immediately, as I responded with, "I miss you too, 
Mulder."

For something as simple as an "I miss you" it's a major break through 
between us. Our phone conversations in the past have been limited to brief 
moments of silence, and casual good byes. Up until now, we've been 
apathetic, and nonchalant. I'm proud to say that the incongruent mix between 
our professional relationship, and our new-sprung romantic relationship is 
progressing marvelously.

On the plane ride, I thought about what would come between Mulder and I. The 
consequences are great if we were to be discovered. I know that; Mulder 
knows that. If we were to be revealed upon our peers at the FBI, and 
especially among the consortium, there would be great hell that we would 
have to pay.

Mulder and I know the risks. We are quite aware about the consequences, and 
we're willing to deal with them when, or if the time comes.

But for now, I don't even want to think about them. I just want to live. I 
want to live my life to it's fullest with Mulder. I want to wake up with his 
arm carelessly slung around my waist. I want to sit at a coffee shop with 
him, holding hands, while talking about the latest movie that we saw 
together. I want to send cryptic, and subtle messages to him with my 
eyebrows, my lips, my nose, my hands; everything and anything that means 
something.

Most of all, I just want to be happy with him. I want to hear the graceful 
fanfare of his charming laughter; brought on by something that I said, or 
did. I want him to smile for me, and tell me that he loves me, simply 
because that was the first thing that he thought of when he saw me.

I know that we're capable of this. We can be normal, and happy.

How do I know, you ask? I know because I trust my heart, I trust my 
instinct, and I believe in my faith. I trust, and believe in Mulder.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

"Was that your boyfriend?" I heard from behind me as I set the phone back on 
the cradle. I spun around instantly, and saw Julie gazing back at me with a 
twinkle in her eyes.

I couldn't help but return her amiable smile.

"You could say that."

"Charlie has told me everything about you- from your favorite flowers, down 
to your favorite quote from Star Wars." She licked her upper lip, and placed 
her hand squarely on the round of her hip. "But Charlie has never mentioned 
your boyfriend."

"That's because Charlie isn't aware that Mulder is my-" I paused in mid 
sentence. To categorize Mulder as my boyfriend would be inaccurate, because 
it goes much, much, much more deeper than that. To refer to Mulder as my 
lover sounds so cheap, and sleazy, as if I was speaking of a prostitute. In 
my book, however.

So what is Mulder? He's my partner. Duh, right?

"Charlie doesn't know that Mulder and I are together, romantically."

There seemed to be some confusion, and hesitation in her expression from the 
way that I paused, and then re-worded my confession, but she simply 
shrugged.

She responded with a simple, "oh" and then folded her hands in front of her.

I looked over my shoulder at Charlie, who remained on the couch; occupied in 
both his laptop computer, and the re-run of Mad About You. As I followed 
Julie to the kitchen, the sound of Helen Hunt's laughter flooding out the 
immutable tapping on the keyboard.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

"My older brother, Bill, despises Mulder. Charlie has never had the pleasure 
of meeting Mulder yet. I can only hope that they can find some ground basis, 
unlike Mulder and Bill." I wrapped my hand around the neck of the Perrier 
bottle, and brought it to my mouth for a lingering sip. "But when Mulder and 
Bill met, under the circumstances, it was quite possibly the worst way to 
meet."

"Why's that ?"

"Charlie told you about my bout with cancer, right?"

"Of course."

"Bill first met Mulder when my cancer was growing at an unstoppable rate. 
Bill needed to find clarity, and reason into what was happening to me. 
Naturally, he turned to Mulder, and that's why they don't get along." Julie 
looked down at the oak kitchen table that we sat at, and then traced the 
pattern of the wood creases.

"Charlie has mentioned your partner. From what I've heard, I think that he 
understands your position, and doesn't feel threatened by him, unlike Bill. 
In fact, I think that Charlie is under the impression that he saves you from 
everything that your job entails, as you save your partner from the same 
horrid circumstances."

"Really?" I asked Julie.

Julie nodded steadily, before taking a sip of her bottle of Perrier. She 
brushed her wavy hair back into a pony tail. She wrapped a scrunchy around 
the thick tide of her hair, and set her hands on the table with a plop.

"I'm sure that you have some siblings that are hesitant to get along with 
Charlie," I said teasingly.

"Actually, I do. My little brother Erich, and Charlie hate each other. 
They're at each other's necks every time that they come in contact."

"Why?"

"I'm not quite sure, but I think that it's a political matter. Both Charlie 
and Erich are strong minded when it comes to politics, and they both share 
different views on it. Charlie is a democrat, and Erich is a republican. 
Along with being relentless with their philosophies, they're both stubborn 
as hell. Everybody in my family is like that. Erich's the only one that has 
actually met Charlie." She took the silent opportunity to chew on her lower 
lip. "I dread the day that my family comes to San Fransisco, and are 
insistent on meeting Charlie."

"Your whole family is like that? You're not."

"That's only because I'm adopted. If I weren't, I'd have it in my blood to 
be a stubborn, arrogant republican. Not to say that all republicans are 
stubborn and arrogant."

"You're adopted?"

She nodded, and looked up into my eyes. The moment that the hazel eyes 
snagged on my blue eyes, I saw Mulder. Through her soul; I saw Mulder. I 
could not believe this. I would not accept this. It's too unbelievable to 
imagine.....

No. It's not even possible. It just can't be. It can't.

"Feel free to not answer this if it's too personal, but-" I paused to find 
the exact words. "Do you know your biological family?"

God, what the hell am I doing? I'm turning into Mulder, that's what I'm 
doing.

"I tried to locate them, but all DNA records were permanently sealed off by 
the government. No mater what attempt my social worker tried, the government 
would not allow me to find my parents."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They claimed that it would endanger my life, as well as my 
biological parents, which was a load of shit. I couldn't protest, because I 
was only nine years old at the time. They did, however, say that I could 
activate the records on my forty-fifth birthday."

"Wait- you were nine years old?"

Julie bit her upper lip, and nodded solemnly.

"Apparently, when I was eight years old, I was taken from my original home. 
I don't know who took me, or why, but six months later, a man found me on a 
military base. Evidently, I was laying unconscious in a muddy, swamp area. 
General Kassidy took me to the base hospital, and about two weeks after they 
found me, I made a miraculous recovery." She grabbed her Perrier bottle 
again, and took a long sip of the French mineral water.

"General Kassidy's wife was a social worker. When I was able to come home 
from the hospital, they instantly took me in. Diane made calls all around 
the Bay Area, and eventually all across the United States, searching for DNA 
records that matched mine. Eventually, there was a match, but a couple of 
government hierarchy stopped me from knowing the real truth. The General 
tried to get over rulings over their rulings, but he came out empty. I have 
to wait about ten more years until I can find the real truth about where I 
came from, and my family." She looked down at the table once again. "Most 
likely, they won't be interested in who I am. Maybe they don't even exist 
any more."

I licked my lips cautiously, unsure how to approach this subject. I can't 
believe this. It's actually possible that this woman sitting in front of me 
is Samantha Mulder; the everlasting, eternal quest of Fox Mulder. It's 
unimaginable. The scary part is, that this is quite possibly her.

*X*X*X*X*X*X*

"Mulder it's me. Pick up. Pick up. C'mon. If you're home, I really need to 
speak with you...." my voice trailed off as I threw a cautious glance over 
in Julie's direction. Charlie was cradling her hands against his, and they 
were talking softly. I could hear the low hum of their whispers from across 
the hall.

"The second you get this message, Mulder, I need you to call me at my 
brother's. I wrote the number down on a sheet of paper, and it's on your 
refrigerator." With out any other ado, I terminated the phone call, and 
walked off away from them. I actually introduced the idea of Mulder into 
Julie's head. I told her about Mulder's situation, and his quest.

I can only hope that this is Samantha Mulder, but what if it's not ? What if 
I led her to believe that she's Samantha Mulder, and it turns out that it's 
just a coincidence that they look the same, and just happen to be in the 
same situation ?

Suddenly, I was greeted by my brother's hands on my shoulders. I almost 
jumped from his touch.

"Sorry to scare you, Day." He lowered his head to my shoulder. "Do you 
really think that it's possible? Do you really think that your partner 
carries the key to my girlfriend's past?"

I sighed softly, and nodded.

"Yeah, I do."

"I can only hope that he is. She's been struggling to find the answers to 
her past, and she's run into a big blank. Except for....." his voice trailed 
off awkwardly as he turned towards the kitchen, and placed his hands firmly 
on his hips.

"Except for what, Charlie?"

Since he wasn't facing me, I couldn't see what his facial expression looked 
like. No matter what, a facial expression can always tell what it is a 
person is thinking about; what kind of things are running through that 
person's head. That's how I can always tell when Mulder is about to blow 
during meetings with Skinner.

"Charlie?"

He turned around swiftly, and his tongue swiftly across the upper column of 
his teeth. I hate when he does that. It usually means that something 
disturbing is about to come out of his mouth. I remember that action from 
years back when he told my mother that he traded his saxophone in for a BB 
gun.

"There's something about Julie that you should know, Dana."

"What is it?" I already know that whatever it is that he has to tell me 
about Julie can't be any good. The first sign was when his tongue swiped 
across his teeth. The second sign was when he called me Dana. Usually, he'd 
call me Day, or FBI woman, or any other of his nicknames that he has for me. 
It's part of our special relationship.

He stepped away from me, and into the kitchen; where I heard him telling 
Julie something in a dull whisper.

"Why do you want me to tell her that?" I suddenly heard from the kitchen. 
Charlie murmured something softly; soft enough that I couldn't hear.

I turned around, with intentions to get far enough away so I couldn't hear 
their little tuff. I tried to move as fast as I could, but my actions were 
interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone ring.

"Dana, can you get it!" Charlie exclaimed from the kitchen the moment that 
the first ring diminished. I closed my eyes briefly, and swiftly followed my 
brother's order.

"Hello."

"Scully, it's me. What's wrong ? I got your message- Is something wrong?"

Going about this will suck. Don't get me wrong, if this is the real deal, 
nothing will make Mulder happier. I just wish that I wasn't the one to try 
and tell him that this could possibly be Samantha.

"Scully?" he asked frenetically.

"Um- I need you to come down to San Fransisco, Mulder."

His initial pause probably meant that he was considering how to ask me why I 
needed him to come.

"I promise to explain to you when you get down here. I don't want to tell 
you over the phone, because it's too important."

"I'll get on the next possible flight, but answer one thing for me?"

"Okay," I agreed quietly.

"Are you hurt in anyway? Physically- emotionally, whatever? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mulder."

I knew that he was wrapping his fists into balls, slowly releasing his 
fingers from the strain, but rolling them back up again. I've noticed that 
it's something that he does to relieve boiled up tension inside of him. The 
first time that I noticed that was when we were in Robert Model's apartment 
with the SWAT team. Mulder was on the phone with him after Detective Frank 
Burst collapsed from his coronary, and I noticed that as his anger elevated 
and the tension rose, his free hand would idly roll up into a tight fist, 
and then release.

Mulder was doing that now, because he didn't know what the hell was going 
on. He was presumably confused, and worried, and angry all in one. That's 
how well I know Mulder.

"Okay. I'll call you when I arrive in San Fransisco, okay?"

"Okay." I tucked some lose strands of hair behind my ear. "Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

I can say it. I've only said it once to him. I get jittery every single time 
I even attempt to say those three little words. I mean- even to my mother, I 
have trouble saying it. I suppose that it's a mix of control, and power that 
I need to maintain with everybody, that makes it difficult to say those 
three words. With Mulder, if I say that I love him so much, I'm afraid that 
I'll lose control of how much I love him, and I'll lose the power of the 
immense potency that little phrase contains. 'I love you' is such a strong 
phrase, which is used too much in this world. I guess that I'm afraid of 
Mulder losing interest in that phrase, because of what happened in the past.

When I went around telling Jack that I loved him a lot, I lost control of 
our relationship, and he took those words for granted.

But then again, Mulder and Jack are two completely different people.

"Hurry," I said gently. Damn it.

"I'm on my way." The faint click caused me to set the phone down on the 
cradle.

"I need a cigarette," I murmured to myself.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

The smoke pooled above me like a faint, wispy cloud. My eyes traced the 
pattern of the smoke. I tapped the brim of the tan-colored filter, and a 
sprinkle of ash fell from the cigarette, trickling down the edge of the 
balcony.

"I thought that you quit that years ago." I closed my eyes, as a faint, dry 
smile played at the corners of my lips. Silently answering my brother, I 
lifted the cigarette to my mouth, and took a long drag off of it before 
squashing it against the porcelain ash tray that sat a couple of feet away 
from me.

"I get the nicotine urge when I get worried about handling stressful 
situations."

"Why can't you just be normal, and smoke after sex?" He sardonically asked.

"Because before last night, sex was something that only occurred- um, say- 
never," I replied with the same dry undertone.

"Well, at least I don't have to worry about you contracting any nasty 
diseases." I snickered hastily.

"I suppose that getting pregnant is out of the question too. It has been."

"Dana....." his voice dragged on, as if he was an echo. "Mom told me about-"

"About my infertility. My in-abil-ity to reproduce." I finished for him. He 
was obviously getting uncomfortable with the subject, so I jumped in 
abruptly.

"Day-" he paused, and an uncomfortable sigh escaped his lips. "I'm- I'm very 
sorry."

"I know you are. It's not your fault."

"Yeah. And it's not yours either," he retorted. I sighed, and nodded.

"Sometimes I know that."

"Sometimes," he exhaled angerly. He walked across the 00balcony, and stood 
next to me, rubbing his shoulder up against mine.

"Then sometimes I can accept it's not my fault, and blame my infertility on 
those bastards who took me."

"The bastards that took you? You mean this happened when you were missing 
five years ago?" I nodded solemnly. "And those same bastards are responsible 
for your cancer?" I responded with another nod of my head.

"Julie!" he called out into the house. Moments later, Julie trotted into the 
balcony, and placed her hands steadily on her hips.

"What's the matter?"

Charlie took off his glasses, placed them on the ledge, and rubbed the 
bridge of his nose.

"It's the same thing, Julie."

"What do you mean?" she asked with a bewildering demeanor.

"What we discussed earlier." Charlie's eyes trailed towards me, and then 
back over to Julie. "It's the same," he mumbled.

Julie's lips puckered out before her eyes slipped shut.

"Charlie, can I have a moment alone with Dana ?" she asked; her eyes still 
shut. Charlie nodded quickly, and disappeared into the house. Our eyes 
connected, and she darted her tongue out to trail across her lower lip. She 
looked almost as perplexed as I am.

"You were abducted by an unknown force," she said softly. It was a 
statement, and not an answer. The only thing that I could do was nod.

"When you were returned, you soon found out that a small, metallic chip was 
placed inside the back of your neck." She brough her hand to my neck, and 
her index and middle finger swiped across the spot where a scar still 
remained. "Right there." Her hand moved back to hang sluggishly at her side.

"When you removed the chip, a terminal cancer began to form in you." She 
trailed her finger down my forehead, and stopped at the bridge of my nose. 
"Right there."

"Three percent of the women who endure this same treatment survive. The 
other ninety-seven usually end up dying months after being pronounced with 
the disease." She scratched the back of her neck slowly. "We must have been 
part of the lucky three."

"This happened to you?" I asked, utterly amazed.

"Yes it did. At ten years old, I was in the hospital, about to die with a 
tumor growing in my nasal passage." She saw the pack of cigarettes that were 
sitting next to the ash tray. She slid one out of the package, and lit it 
with a lighter that came from her pocket. "A man came to me, and the rest is 
left at a blank. God only knows who he was, why he was there, and what 
happened to me. I only know that there's another chip at the back of my 
neck, and I wouldn't even dare remove it."

"Are you infertile?"

Julie took a long drag off of the cigarette, and set it between a gap in the 
ash tray.

"I got freaked out when I turned fifteen, and I still didn't have my period. 
I went to go see a doctor, and they were all baffled when they discovered 
that my ovaries were missing."

I took the burning cigarette that was nestled in the ash tray holder, and I 
took a short drag off of it.

"Do you have any memory of the man who visited you in the hospital?"

Julie shook her head.

"He was clean-cut. He was somewhere in his thirties, and he had dark hair. 
Other than that, it was all a big mystery."

"Do recall if he smoked?"

"If he did, he didn't in front of me." She bunched her fist together, and 
her gaze fell over the edge of the balcony. She looked out into the city, 
where lights were still on, and movement still remained.

"If I am who you think I am- what's my real name?" she asked with innocence 
in her voice.

"Samantha," I responded softly. I turned to face her, and I saw her 
repeating the name over, and over again. Her lips were getting used to the 
name as she whispered it. "Samantha Mulder."

"My partner, Fox Mulder, has been looking for Samantha for 25 years now. 
He's dedicated his entire career- his entire life to finding justice to what 
happened to Samantha."

"Do you think that I could be her?" I nodded silently.

"I think that it's very plausible, Julie."



Trading Players (3 of 3)
Disclaimers and other information all found in section one

*X*X*X*X*X*X*

"I'm Denise Potter. What can I help you with?"

"I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I 
need imperative information about a customer on your airlines."

The woman snapped into attention asking me what she could do for me.

"Um- yes. A man named Fox Mulder made last minute flight reservations from 
either Dulles, or National airport, and should be arriving at the San 
Fransisco International. I need to know when his flight is coming in. I 
don't know when his flight is, or the number of it."

"Is this some kind of joke? Are you really an FBI agent?"

"Look lady, I could give you the Assistant Director of the FBI's phone 
number, and my badge number, but I don't have time to dick around with you. 
This man is wanted in the state of Virginia for seven counts of murder, and 
I've received an anonymous tip that he's on his way to San Fransisco. Do you 
want to help me, or not?"

As the gullible attendant scrambles to find the information, Charlie's grin 
radiates from across the room, and he arches his eyebrow up at me with 
surprise.

She gives me his flight number, and when his flight will be in a hurry, and 
she seems a bit trepidatious about the entire thing. Upon setting the phone 
down, Charlie stands, and chuckles.

"You are a damn fine liar, Agent Scully," Charlie spurts out in between his 
fits of giggles.

I can only return the humor he finds in this situation with a mute smile.

"I've learned from the best."

"Certainly not me."

"Mulder," I replied softly.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

Mulder comes off of the terminal gate seventeen minutes after his plane 
arrives because of a couple who stopped in the middle of the ramp to tempt 
exhibitionism, and PDA's. When he eventually saw me, he froze, as if I were 
a ghost. I slowly approached him, and he stared down at me with all of the 
confusion, and all of the worry that I've ever seen in him.

He reached out, and placed his hands on my arms.

"You really got me worried, Scully." He licked his lips nervously to 
emphasize his point. "Are you tell me why you asked me to come down to San 
Fransisco?"

I nodded slowly, while our eyes never lost contact. I took his hand into 
mine, and our fingers laced together.

"Let's get your bags first, though."

"Okay," he agreed as we started to walk. "But how did you know what flight I 
was going to be on?"


Making it down to the baggage claim, it took fifteen minutes until his 
flight's luggage actually started to come down the conveyer belt. Naturally, 
his luggage was the last item that we spotted. He took both of his suit 
cases, and he shunned me when I tried to carry one.

When I tried a second time, he questioned me, saying, "Why is it so 
important for you to carry my bag, Scully?"

"Because I want to hold your hand," I replied daintily. His expression 
softened, and he actually smiled. Mulder handed me the lightest one, and 
took my hand again.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

"So are you going to tell me?"

I slipped my finger through the key ring loop, and nodded slowly.

"I called you because I met somebody."

His eyes widened to the point where they looked like his eyeballs were going 
to pop out of his sockets, and his cheeks started to blush instantly. Uh oh. 
Mulder took it the wrong way.

I touched his arm gently.

"I really, really, really didn't mean it that way," I added. "It's about my 
brother's girlfriend, Julie." He exhaled a strong breath of relief as his 
eyes slipped shut.

"You scared me there, Scully. I thought that you were....." He bit his lip. 
"You know."

I tilted my head towards Mulder, and kissed him squarely on his temple. I 
placed my hand on his upper thigh, and I moved my lips in accordance, down 
the side of his cheek, and I stopped by delivering a final kiss on his jaw.

"What I tell you, Mulder- no matter what you feel, I need you to listen to 
me."

"Okay."

"Okay," I sigh after him, briefly closing my eyes to plot about how I'm 
going to go upon this little plan of mine. Should I just go out and tell him 
that I think that I know where Samantha is?

"My brother's girlfriend, she's quite interesting, Mulder." Not exactly what 
I planned.

"Interesting how?"

"We were talking, and it-" I stopped in mid-sentence, trying to arrange my 
words into a better formation.

"Scully?"

"There's a chance that Charlie's girlfriend- could be your sister."



*X*X*X*X*X*X*
People are always chasing me down
Pushing my face to the floor,
to suck out my brains, my fucking brains.
The Kombucha Mushroom people, sitting around all day,
WHO can you believe you ?
WHO can believe you ?
Let your mother pray.
      Sugar- System of a Down
*X*X*X*X*X*X*


Trading Players
** Part II **


I've been through downs, and I've been through ups. I've been to hell and 
back, trying to find anything tangible that would get Scully to believe me. 
I've searched high and low, digging through endless piles of pretend shit to 
find clarification to my sister's enigmatic disappearance. Most of all, I've 
been too way close to losing the only person in my life who created 
everything that's good in me. Twice, in fact.

Twice is two times to many.

The first time I almost lost her was when she battled for her life in the 
hospital after returning from the Duane Barry fiasco.

When I went to visit her the day she came back to me, Scully told me that 
she had the strength of my beliefs. It made me wonder if Scully was watching 
me from afar during the time she was in the hospital, and possibly through 
the entire three month period she was missing.

The second time I almost lost her, it drove me insane, because I was 
gradually losing her day after day, and there was nothing that I could do 
about it. I died along with her.

But somehow, she roughed it out, and pulled through like a trooper. My 
fearless, and defiant little Scully told the cancer to kiss her ass, and she 
beat all of the odds.

Yeah. Lucky me. I thought so too. I still think so.

Ever since her cancer went into remission, I've tried to show Scully my 
feelings for her, in simple, sufficient gestures. I even planned a romantic 
hike in the forest, where I could confess my, *feelings* to her.

When we were supposed to go away on a 'team working' seminar about a month 
after her cancer went into remission, I planned an elaborate excuse to get 
her away from the seminar, and into the woods. I intended to pretend to get 
lost on the hike, and make my move. But that obviously didn't happen. We 
stumbled upon an X-File, completely on accident, and I ended up 
incapacitated, and unable to do anything about it.

Since my feeble attempt, there's been others, but none have been as 
significant as that, with the exception of last summer. When Scully told me 
she was being shipped off to Salt Lake City- I don't know what happened to 
me. It was like a light inside of me flickered, and my dormant "inner child" 
woke up after a 37 year long sleep.

I defied what our relationship stood for, and I broke down barriers that 
were carefully constructed the minute that she came into my office with her 
smart-ass attitude, and her sharp intellect. Oh, Jesus, and don't get me 
started on her figure. That little striped gray number she was wearing the 
first day.... oh man. She wore that suit like a wet t-shirt queen.

Standing in my hallway, practically yelling out these things that were 
personal, and reticent to me, I knew that those barriers and rules we so 
meticulously crafted, were gone.

I threw in the towel, and leaned forward to kiss her when I caught that 
curious, and confused gaze, emitted from those hypnotic blue eyes of hers. 
They drilled a hole into my soul, and left an imprint when she first fed me 
that line about the distance needed for a spacecraft to fly were beyond our 
capability. Jesus, did I want her back then?

If I ever am face to face with the man who invented those abnormal, 
ill-timed, bees... I swear to God, I will wrap my hands around his neck, and 
throttle the stupid bastard.

Scully disappeared once again, but thanks to- to- to...... hell, I don't 
know his name, but he was well manicured... whatever. Thanks to Mr. 
Manicure, I found Scully again, and that was the end of our summer disaster.

Beyond telling Scully I love her, and convincing her to let me teach her how 
to swing a bat, I haven't done anything to remedy our romance (or lack there 
of) situation.

Until two days ago, that is.


I ran into Scully at the Georgetown Barnes and Noble on accident. She was 
picking up one of her science magazines, and I was there because they make 
the best banana nut apple cinnamon glaze muffins in their caf_. Naturally, 
we began talking, and walking around the store, and a lot of our talking 
turned into innocent flirting. She didn't mind, because she was returning my 
goofy innuendoes with some of her own.

Anyway, we decided to leave Barnes and Noble for the Pasta House across the 
street. Scully retreated to the magazines to grab her Modern Medicine Today- 
or whatever it's called, and I followed her.

Thankfully <wink, wink> the staff of Barnes and Noble chose to move her 
magazine up to the highest shelf, and she had trouble reaching it. I was 
behind her, so naturally, I reached up to get it for her, and she chose that 
moment to turn around. My hand was still on the shelf, when I froze in place 
to admire this rare kodak moment between us.

I thought about leaning down to kiss her, but kissing her in public was a 
big no-no on my list, because I knew once I started, I would be very 
hesitant to stop. But my little trooper- she took matters into her own 
hands, and locked her arms around my neck, and gave me an irresistible 
smile.

The next thing I knew, we were kissing intensely against the magazine rack, 
making an utter scene. By some force, she managed to pry herself from me, 
despite the desperate hold I had on her. She managed to convince me to 
actually move, so we could go back to her place. And the rest..... the rest 
is history.

So what my original point was that my life is genuinely, and honestly happy. 
My life went from some-what satisfying, to something that would be 
classified as 'beyond explanation.' Nothing can make me happier. What I have 
now is something I've been dreaming of for years now, and I'll be damned if 
some black-lunged son of a bitch,will dare to fuck it up for me.

But you know what? I was wrong. Today's events have proved me wrong. Life 
can be better than it is.


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

Her hair is an ocean of brown; mussed dark brown waves that flow down to her 
mid-back. Her eyes are a flurried hurricane of hazel, passionate, and deep. 
Her smile is warm, and homey; a true treasure to receive. Her skin is an 
olive shade, bearing great resemblance to mine. Her body frame is somewhat 
lanky, but she has knock-out curves which cancel each other out. She stands 
tall at 5"7" coming up to the space just below my eyes.

This woman who stands before me is an enigma; she is the missing link to my 
childhood. She is clarity to my past and my inner demons that continue to 
haunt me. She shares my fears, but she doesn't know it yet. She doesn't know 
anything. The past is just a blur. The first eight years of her life have 
been erased permanently from her memory. I am somebody of her past. 
Something that she could ever remember naturally. To me, she is my mediator; 
my reason to continue on my career path.

She is Julie Kassidy, a firewoman, who is dating Scully's brother. She is 
also Samantha Mulder, an 8 year old pest who loved board games. She is both 
of these people. I am sure of it. I can see it in her eyes. I can tell by 
what she has told me. Samantha Mulder stands before me now, and I am 
speechless. For the first time in my life, I am left speechless. She doesn't 
know what to say either.

Julie wipes off some of the tears on her cheek, and her lips tremble softly.

"Fox," she whispered into the thick air of silence.

"Hmmm ?" I rub the bridge of my nose gently, as I prepare for her next 
question. Listening to her description of her abduction experience that 
happened 26 years ago was hard on me. Down to the detail, it was everything 
that Scully's experience entailed. I wanted to hop on the next flight out to 
New York, and kill that smoking bastard.

"Are you happy?"

This wasn't the question I was expecting. I was expecting another question 
about Dad, or Mom. Perhaps a question about herself, but not that.

"Why do you want to know that?"

She licked her lips in a nervous fashion, and shrugged.

"You told me you dedicated your entire life to finding me. How could you be 
happy doing that?"

I smiled, and shook my head.

"My work is satisfying. Trying to find you was worth the loneliness, and the 
anguish that I endured."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's you, Sam." I ran my left hand through my hair, and sighed. 
"You fill a giant gap in my life. You're importance to me goes beyond deep." 
I smiled, and folded my hands together. "Also- I know this sounds selfish, 
but if I gave up on finding you, I would have never met Scully."

She smiled as well.

"She's great."

"Uh huh," I agreed quickly.

"I like her."

"Yeah. Me too," I added sarcastically.

She chuckled, and sniffled, instantly turning the moment back to serious. I 
gazed into her tear-filled eyes, and I reached out for her hand. Or fingers 
laced, and locked, and I stared down in awe at this sight. I was holding my 
little sister's hand. Holy shit, Fox Mulder, you're holding Sam's hand. Can 
you believe it ? I surely can't.

"Sam-" I closed my eyes, and shook my head. "Julie." I corrected myself. 
"Julie," I repeated in a whisper. "What about your family?"

I slowly opened my eyes, and she slowly started to draw light circles in 
between the patch where my thumb and my index finger were joined.

"Are you sure that you want to hear about them?" her voice was as thick as 
honey, and as serene as a state of nirvana.

"Why wouldn't I want to hear about them?"

She shrugged, and shook her head.

"I don't know. Maybe you'd have some residual feelings towards them, for not 
trying harder to find out who I really am. Something like that," Julie said 
with a radiant smile.

I returned her smile with as much innocence as I could, and shook my head in 
a firm nod.

"I'd really like to hear about them, Julie. I think that I need to."

Julie affirmed my request by squeezing my hand lightly, and releasing it.

"How much do you need to hear?"

"As much as you can tell me."


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

-One Month Later-



"I don't know if I can do this."

I touched her shoulder in a hollow attempt at comfort. Her head sunk down, 
and she shook her head back and forth slowly.

"What if she doesn't want to know if I'm still alive." A snort inadvertently 
flew from my mouth, and I laid a hand over my mouth at the unexpected sound.

"That's not even possible, Julie."

She tilted her head upwards, and curved it around to look back in the 
direction of the car.

"Fox-"

"If you don't want to do this, I can understand. I guess. We can go back to 
the hotel, and we can try this tomorrow, or whenever you feel comfortable 
with this."

Her head dropped again; she shook her head.

"No. It's just-" Julie paused. Her teeth sunk down into her lower lip, and 
she placed her hands squarely on her hips. "I'm scared. I was scared when I 
first met you, but Dana kind of- prepared me for you. She told me about your 
quest, and about the X-Files; how you dedicated your life to finding me."

"Mom never gave up hope. She knew in her heart that you would come back to 
her."

Her clear hazel eyes closed briefly, and her eyelids fluttered insistently.

"Yeah. Somehow I knew that I would find you too. I just didn't think that it 
would be like this."

"Like what?"

"As good as this. Candidly, I expected you to be some uptight, pompous 
asshole who had a great salary, and seventeen girlfriends that occupied all 
of your time- and would more or less have nothing to do with me."

"Yeah. I had some thoughts about you too."

We both dissolved into laughter, and I leaned forward to hug her. She 
returned the hug, by resting her head against my shoulder.

"I think that I'm ready to see her now."

"Are you sure?"

It took her a while to reply. While she thought, I felt her fingers drumming 
against the round of my back.

"Yeah. I am."

I lead her towards the door, and we waited for what seemed like an eternity 
until my mother actually came to the door. She looked at my curiously, with 
the woman that stood directly next to me.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Julie Kassidy. It's Samantha, mom."

Her crystal blue eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her left hand 
to prevent her surprised gasp to sound any louder than it was. She looked at 
Julie with wide eyes, and tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Are you sure this time, Fox?" I grinned, and nodded. I had to give credit 
to my mother's dry sarcasm, only at my expense.

"Julie," she said softly, before taking Julie into her arms. Julie wrapped 
her arms around her, and leaned her head down.

"God- when did this..... Fox, how did this happen?"

"Must have been fate, mom. She's going to be my partner's sister-in-law."


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

"I'm in Massachusetts." Discarding my jacket, along with my navy blue polo 
shirt on the chair, and she lifted her head instantly, and smiled.

"No, mom. Charlie's in the room across the hall." She rolled her eyes, and I 
plopped down next to her. Propping my head on my hand, I placed my hand on 
her thigh, and squeezed firmly. She looked down at me suspiciously.

"Yes, I know that. I'll be back in a couple of days."

This could take forever, knowing Mrs. Scully. I leaned my head down on her 
lap, and twisted my body around to look straight up into her eyes. They 
sparkled with passion, and it was absolutely imperative that I kissed her 
this moment.

"It's only my 36th birthday. There's nothing special about-" I cut her off 
by tugging her head down to mine. She dropped the phone, and grabbed my 
ears. Oh boy.

Somehow, I maneuvered around from a laying position, to straddling her 
thighs, and the amazing thing is that we never broke the kiss. My tongue was 
exploring the warm depths of her mouth, as I heard Mrs. Scully's tiny little 
voice from the neglected phone receiver.

She groaned into my mouth while picking up the phone, and pulling away.

"Sorry, Mom. I dropped the phone," she said softly, while tilting her head 
towards her shoulder.

Damn it, I love Mrs. Scully. Really, I do. She's a fantastic woman. She 
delivered the angel who sits in front of me. But she talks too much.

"I don't know. They're taking me to dinner in a couple hours."

And she'll still be on the phone with her until then.

"I guess."

She seemed annoyed now. I had to do something.

"It's a pretty small town."

On a whim, I snatched the receiver out of her fingers, and brought the phone 
up to my mouth.

"Mrs. Scully? This is Fox Mulder."

She said hello in a giddy fashion. Scully patted my stomach, and craned her 
neck forward to plant an innocent, open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder.

"Can Dana call you back? She needs to get some rest in for the busy evening 
that your son and I have planned."

Mrs. Scully began talking, and I suddenly felt Scully's hand's ducking 
inside my pants. I had to stop the half groan/half yelp that was bound to 
escape my mouth by biting on my upper lip.

"Yeah. Dana says that she loves you, and she misses you. Good bye Mrs. 
Scully," I immediately said in a rushed tone, before slamming the receiver 
down.

"You're going to get it now," I growled as I lunged towards her. She giggled 
as I rolled us over, so she was the one sitting on my thighs with a sexy 
smirk across her bee-stung lips.

"Are you going to give it to me good, big boy ?" Scully asked, her voice 
dripping with ridicule, and satire.

"Don't I always?"


*X*X*X*X*X*X*

Julie and Charlie are across the table from us. Scully and I are facing the 
beach, and I've caught her smile every time the waves crash against the tall 
edges of rock.

I whispered in her ear that she was a navy brat, and she slapped me in the 
knee, and her hand is still there, except it mysteriously has migrated a 
little bit inwards, and a little bit upwards.

What a little devil. Wait- correction. She's my little devil.

My heart is beginning to thump wildly out of control as dinner grows to it's 
inescapable end. It's not like I really want to escape what I'm going to do 
this evening. I just fear the outcome.

But I'm going to do this. I've imagined doing this in my head for years now, 
and I will not back out. I can't, and I won't, no matter how terrified I am.

Charlie lifts his glasses up, and starts to massage the bridge of his nose 
gingerly. He looks up at me prudently.

I think he's wondering if I'm still going to do it. I nod quickly, and he 
flicks his thumb up at me.

After arguing with Charlie for nearly 20 minutes about who was going to pay 
for the tab, and ending up splitting it down the middle, we all bid our 
good-byes, and departed. Scully and I are watching the ocean. I think 
Charlie took Julie out shopping downtown.

My arms are wrapped tightly around her waist, and my chin is resting against 
her head. She has her hands tucked away in the back pockets of my Levi's, 
and we haven't said anything for a couple of minutes now.

But I intend to. I intend to spin her around, and get down on my knees. I 
intend to ask her to be my wife for as long as we both shall live. I intend 
to spend eternity with her. I can't picture anybody else fitting the 
description. I don't want anybody else. Just her.

I plant a small kiss at the top of her skull, and inhale deeply.

A couple of months ago before this all started, I asked her if she was 
happy. When she told me she was, I immediately asked her why.

And do you know what she said?

She said that her work makes her happy, and that I make her happy. She 
doesn't know this, but that was the best thing that anybody has ever said to 
me, and I will treasure that from years to come.

Scully makes me happy. She makes me happy to be alive. She makes me happy to 
wake up, and happy to go to bed. I've never felt happy.

I mean- sure, I've been happy, but never in my entire life have I been 
considered generally, all-around happy. And you know what? I love being 
happy. I'm happy to be happy.

My dad once told me that life was like playing on a baseball team. Some 
people are better up at bat, some people are better in the outfield. Some 
people are good at warming up the bench, and some people are good at 
shortstop. You have to deal with whatever curve ball is thrown at you. You 
have to accept that players get traded.

It seems like Scully and I are too close to being traded way too many 
times... I'm happy to still be on the same team as Scully, and I'll continue 
to be happy, just as long as I'm on Scully's team. That's the way it should 
be.


Oh, and....by the way..... she said yes.


*************************