Title: The Dance
Author and E-mail and homepage: Kalynn
feedback please!    kalynn95@juno.com
All of my fiction is located together at (Please visit!  Feel free to
sign the guestbook or join the ListBot):
Kalynn's Fan Fiction         
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/5579

Rating: PG
Classification: V/A
Keywords:  M/S UST, character death, angst! 
Summary: After her death, Scully reaches out to comfort Mulder.  A what
if story (alt univ breaks off sometime after Memento Mori).
Spoilers/Timeline: Fire, Memento Mori, Late fourth season

Archive:  Okay for Gossamer, songfic.  Others, if you want it, I'm
honored.  Please, ask first, thanks!  Come on, at least let me know
where
it's at so I can visit. :-)

Author's Notes: Well, I know everyone is probably sick of the whole
Scully sick plot from season four, and that it's old news these days. 
Well, in my own defense, I blame this story idea on FX and their airing
Memento Mori   one of the sweetest and saddest eps ever.  So, sit back
and take a trip into what if land with me.    :-)    Oh, and even better
it's a song story.  I've never been the biggest Garth Brooks fan, but
I've always loved 'The Dance' and after watching FX last night (well,
when I started the story anyway), this story just hit me.

Regarding the Keywords: Time and again my work has been deemed shipper,
or at least shipper friendly.   This at the same time that when I read
my
stories I see a deep wonderful friendship, or at most UST.  In fact,
I've
often been taken for a shipper, and while I'm cool with that, I'm more a
friendshipper/UST-er. The point of this rambling is to just say we all
get out of a story what we bring with us.  If you find this to be
leaning
toward MSR, feel free.  Either way, I hope to enjoy it.   :-)

Disclaimer: Straight simple and to the point:  Mulder, Scully, et al are
property of FOX Television, 1013 Productions, Chris Carter, and probably
a bunch of other people. If I owned them, I wouldn't need student
loans. 
:-) 'The Dance' belongs at least to Garth Brooks and his label (although
I'm unsure what that is).  No profit is being made, yadda yadda yadda

The Dance

     The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.    --
Gilbert K. Chestherton

Mulder walked slowly through the rain from his car to the apartment
building in which he lived.  He didn't pay attention to the rain as it
ran down his face and into his eyes, he hadn't paid attention to
anything
for the past three days.

He paused long enough to check his mail and wait for the elevator, and
after unlocking the door to his apartment, he retreated within it's
darkened depths.  Ever since the funeral, he had found himself hiding
away from the world.  While Scully had still been alive, she had been
what grounded him.  After she was gone, there was no one to draw him
back
when he crept ever closer to the edge.

A coldness had settled in Mulder's eyes that had never been there
before,
but when someone's light is removed only darkness remains.  For most of
his life, Mulder's emotions shone in the hazel orbs.  However as he
watched his best friend slowly slip away, he sought to close his heart. 
He endeavored to avoid the pain.  Those who knew him noticed the change
with concern, but only Scully could draw him out of his shell.  Most
feared that when she finally died, Mulder would become enraged, cry and
scream, seek vengeance.  Only, in a fashion so unnatural for Mulder, he
never cried and he never screamed.

Shrugging out of his coat, he walked across the apartment to the
computer
desk.  Dumping the mail onto the wood surface, he unlocked the bottom
drawer of the desk and pulled out his back up gun.  Checking the clip,
he
pushed the drawer shut with his foot.  Tonight, he had decided, the
cigarette smoker that had plagued his life would face the end of his
own.
 What happened to himself, Mulder thought, was of no consequence.  It
was
on this night, Mulder had decided, that he would seek vengeance.

Turning to leave the apartment, Mulder gazed across the stack of mail. 
Half-hidden under a black-wrapped magazine was a manilla envelope that
caught his eye.  Picking the envelope up, his eyes opened wide when he
recognized the handwriting on the paper.  Confusion flickered across the
dead hazel depths and he collapsed into the desk's chair.  In that
moment, his plans for the smoking man were forgotten.  He placed the gun
down beside the also forgotten pile of mail.

He was holding in his hand a connection to a world he thought he had
buried three days before.  His hands shaking, he gently opened the
envelope.  Mulder slid the contents out onto the desktop and found
himself presented with a smaller envelope and a cassette tape. 
Hesitantly, he reached out for the new envelope and ran his fingers over
the familiar script that simply read 'Mulder.'

The envelope wasn't sealed, and he easily pulled the flap open and
retrieved the single sheet of stationary that was inside.  Mulder closed
his eyes against the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. 
When he opened his eyes, the words swam in front of him, and he forced
his eyes to bring the words into focus.  The first thing he noticed was
the date, it had been written the last week she had been in the
hospital.

***
Mulder,

I know once, long ago, you found a journal that I had been keeping for
you.  I told you then that I had planned to throw it away, and I did. 
In
those pages I spoke of a solitary journey, but I find only relief in
knowing that you denied me that.  No words can express my debt for your
staying by my side.  You unwavering devotion touched my heart like
little
else.

However, the fight is growing short.  Our efforts, while never in vain,
have still failed, and it is for you that I feel the most concern.  The
guilt I know you will place upon yourself breaks my heart.  Sharing this
journey with you was my choice, Mulder.  Your place in my life made me
feel whole, even though before I met you I didn't even know anything was
missing.

I know that as long as you hold yourself responsible for others, you
will
continue.  I fear for you when you feel you've nothing left to lose. 
That could never be true, for you yourself are too precious to lose. 
Never forget that.

I've asked that this letter be sent to you after I'm gone, and enclosed
is an audio tape.  I found this song years ago once while visiting my
mom
during one of our rare breaks.  The words reached out to me, and they
ring true now more than ever.  I hope you will understand them, as
well. 
Understand, and believe, Mulder -- in the words, in yourself and in me. 
I'll see you when we meet again, and until then I'll always be with you.

***

A shuddering sob ripped through Mulder's frame, and he doubled over,
almost falling from the chair.  Careful not to mess up the letter that
had, in only the span of minutes, become the center of his world.  For
the first time in a very long time, he didn't fight the tears that
poured
down his cheeks.  For so long he had refused the tears that sought to
spill forth from his eyes.  He feared the emotion they would bring.

When he finally was able to pick up the small cassette tape, he couldn't
help but marvel at his partner.  How she had thought to reach out to
him,
amidst so much of her own pain.  Additional tears sprung from his eyes
as
he realized how she often did, sometimes even during monumental
arguments.  He could still see her soft blue eyes, so often full of
compassion, highlighted by a spark that was truly hers.

For a while, Mulder merely sat there and looked at the tape.  He was
content to just hold it.  He forced himself to admit he feared what the
song might say.  He trusted Scully, that she wouldn't seek to hurt him
but knew that even comfort brought pain ever since her death.  He
trembled at the thought that if was to give into his grief and pain,
there might not be any escape.

It took what little strength remained in his limbs to cross the small
apartment to his stereo.  A sad smile flickered across his features when
he saw the label, carefully written by Scully.  "You'll find out when
you
play it, Mulder."  He smiled.  It was frank, just like his Scully.

Placing the tape into the player, he closed his eyes, no longer dead but
bright with long buried emotion, and slowly pressed the play button.

An unassuming soft melody began to drift across the apartment.  After
only a few words, Mulder sank to the floor, leaning against the wall.

**

Looking back, on the memory of
the dance we shared, 'neath the stars above

**

Realization struck Mulder.  Was it possible she might have been thinking
of this on that evening so long ago?  Just before she entered the
hospital for what would be the last time, Scully had asked Mulder to go
to the beach with her, so that she might once more visit the sea she
loved so much.  So that she might enjoy the peace it could bring, and
she
wanted to share it with him.  At first he had disagreed, that she
shouldn't use so much energy, but he found himself unable to tell her
no.
 In retrospect, it was the last truly happy time they had known.  They
had talked and laughed, and eventually even found themselves dancing
under the perfect diamond strewn sky.  Even now he could remember the
peaceful look that had come over her for that all to brief evening.

***

For a moment, 
All the world was right
How could I have known,
That you'd ever say goodnight?

And now, 
I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end,
The way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd had to miss,
The dance.

***

In his mind's eye, Mulder could almost picture Scully listening to this
song.  A years younger Scully, full of innocence and enthusiasm.  Her
head tilted slightly to the side, her eyes lost in contemplation of the
words.  The thought almost made the words of the song easier to hear,
even though the guilt and anguish were ever present in his heart. 
Memories of the few short years that Dana Scully had been a part of his
life flashed across his photographic memory.  For one of the few moments
in his life, he was thankful for his perfect memory.

He could remember every comforting touch, and each reassuring hug.  It
was amazing how easy it was to forget the harsh words and clashing
tempers that also occurred in their partnership.  In the end, those
weren't the moments that mattered.

He recalled one afternoon in the hospital.  Scully had been growing
weaker and exhausted from the pain, without thinking he climbed onto the
bed that dwarfed her small frame and pulled her into an embrace against
his chest.  It had been the last time they had spent together alone, and
he simply held her until she fell asleep, softly rubbing his hand on her
hair.

***

Holding you,
I held everything
For a moment,
Wasn't I a king?
But if I'd only known,
How the king would fall.
Hey who's to say?
You know I might have changed it all.

And now, 
I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end,
The way it all would go.
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd had to miss,
The dance.

***

While he had held her that afternoon, his mind had ran a mile a minute. 
He still felt responsible for her sickness, but he found himself
concentrating on Scully instead of his guilt.  He nearly cried when he
heard her mumble softly, just on the edge of sleep "No regrets, Mulder. 
No regrets."

***

Yes, our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain,
But I'd had to miss,
The dance.

***

Silence filled his apartment as the song ended, and he had just reached
up to press stop when his hand froze.  His heart skipped a beat when he
heard a voice he thought he would never hear again.  Tears filled his
eyes once more as he listened to her soft-spoken voice.

"Hi, G-man.  I was going to write a quote in the letter, but I wanted to
say it to you instead.  This seemed like the best way, because I know
you, and you wouldn't have let me finish."  She stopped speaking and he
could hear her laugh softly.  After a pause, she continued.  "So here it
is, Mulder.  'A blessed thing it is for any man or woman to have a
friend, one human soul whom we can trust utterly, who knows the best and
worst for us, and who loves us in spite of all our faults.'  For me,
that will always be your place in my life.  For this, I can only say thank
you and ask for you to live your life to the fullest, for me.  I love you,
partner."

The tape clicked off, but Mulder didn't move.  Instead, he sat there,
simply remembering the only soul who had ever made him feel so special
or needed.  In an instant, he decided to grieve for the loss of her, but to
continue to live, for the memory of her.

fin

Additional note: The quote Scully says to Mulder is attributed to Charles Kingsley.
Kalynn's Fan Fiction Homepage (XFiles and Profiler):http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/5579

Always remember to forget   Those friends that proved untrue.
But never forget to remember   Those that stood by you.      
                 --- Irish Blessing