9/28/02
Title:  Brave New World
Author: ML
Email: msnsc21@aol.com
Feedback:  welcomed and adored!
Distribution: Kimpa and Enigmatic Dr., always; Ephemeral, 
Gossamer, or if you've archived me before, yes; if you haven't, 
please just let me know and leave headers, email addy, etc. 
attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: Closure
Rating: PG
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance, post ep
Summary:  One day in two lives.

Disclaimer:  These characters aren't mine.  They mostly belong 
to the actors who portrayed them, but Chris Carter created them, 
and Ten Thirteen and FOX own the rights.  I mean no infringement, 
and I'm not making any profit from them.

Author's note:  This is a birthday present for sallie, who is so 
generous with her time and her praise and encouragement.  Happy 
Birthday, sallie!

=====

Brave New World
by ML

The sun though the blinds zeroed in like a laser, hitting Mulder's 
face where he lay on the sofa.  He blinked and rubbed his eyes, 
disoriented for a few moments.

He'd woken up like this many times before, his consciousness 
hovering between sleep and waking, before the crushing weight 
of reality descended.

He wasn't even sure what day it was; it should be Saturday, since 
they'd gotten home either late the night before or early this 
morning, depending on the time zone.  He must have really slept 
heavily; he vaguely remembered dropping his jacket and pulling 
off his boots before collapsing on the couch.  Had they really 
only gotten back the night before?  It all seemed like ages ago, 
something that had happened in another life.

Images from the past several days crowded in on him now, his 
own personal slide show.  Sacramento and the worried faces of 
Bud and Billie LaPierre.  Interviewing Kathy Lee Tencate in 
prison. Santa's North Pole Village.  His mother's voice on his 
answering machine.  Harold Piller.  April Base.  Victorville, 
and the clearing with the children.  Samantha.

He closed his eyes and waited for the weight of guilt and sorrow 
to settle on him once again.

Nothing happened.  The sun streamed in through the blinds, dust 
motes danced in the still air, and he felt...

Free.  It was as true now as when he'd told Scully.  But with 
this freedom there was also an emptiness.

What now?  he thought.  It's the first day of the rest of my 
life.  He grimaced at the cliche.  Problem is, his thoughts 
continued, I've been chained to my quest for so long, I don't 
know what to do with this freedom.

At this moment, just sitting there sounded good.  He leaned 
back, propped his feet up on the table, and closed his eyes 
against the brightness. 

x-x-x-x

The same sunlight sought Scully out, streaming through the 
stained glass as she knelt in contemplation.  A finger of 
sunlight illuminated her clasped hands, dazzling her.

She was thinking of Mulder, which was not so strange.  He was 
never very far from her thoughts, and she'd petitioned God on 
his behalf before.  This time, however, she was thanking Him.

Thank You for keeping Mulder safe.  Thank You for giving him 
peace.

She thought of the look in Mulder's eyes when he said, "I'm 
fine. I'm free."  She'd seen many expressions in his eyes 
before, from anger to sorrow, but never peace.

He'd hardly spoken after this declaration, either during the 
drive back to the airport, or on the red-eye to DC.  At some 
point during the flight, his hand found hers and he held on to 
it until they landed.  Neither of them said much even after 
landing.  Scully had dropped him off at his apartment, wished 
him goodnight, and went home herself.

Despite the long preceding days, she'd awakened early the 
morning before, not surprised that her first waking thought 
was of Mulder.  She'd wondered how he was doing, but decided 
to leave him to himself.  He would call, she thought.  Hardly 
a weekend went by that she didn't hear from him, especially in 
the past year.

She went about her usual Saturday business, running errands and 
doing chores, allowing her mind to drift to Mulder when it would, 
idly wondering what he was doing.  She thought of him doing the 
same things as she:  groceries, laundry, a visit to the gym.  
Maybe he found a pickup game of basketball, and was losing 
himself in the physicality of the game and enjoying the casual 
camaraderie.

She wasn't worrying about him for a change.  It didn't bother 
her when he didn't call.  Somehow, she knew he was safe.  She 
knew he'd call when he was ready, and she was content to wait.  
Despite his words in Victorville, there was still an underlying 
sorrow he had to deal with.  After all, he'd lost his mother as 
he'd found his sister.

Besides, she needed time to regroup as well.  So much had 
changed, and she sensed that more changes were coming.  She 
wouldn't allow herself to speculate on just what those changes 
would be.

That was yesterday.  Today, she was ready.  Ready for what? 
asked the voice inside her.

The sun on her hand felt like the warmth of Mulder's hand over 
hers.  She smiled at the thought.

x-x-x-x

Mulder stood in the shower's steamy warmth for a long time.  He 
still felt a pleasant lethargy.  What to do today?  Go into the 
office, catch up on the work, see what they should investigate 
next?

No hurry, he thought.  No hurry on anything.  The work would still 
be there tomorrow.  He wondered if his sense of urgency about the 
work would return then, too.

Find a reason to call Scully?  Did he need a reason?  He didn't 
think so, any more, but maybe he should give her a day without 
him for a change.

She probably didn't know what to think of him right now.  He 
hardly knew himself.  He'd clung to her the night after his 
mother died.  She'd held him and soothed him.  He'd been oblivious 
to anyone's pain but his own.  And then during the trip back to 
California, he'd shut himself off from her.  Yet she was always 
there, nearby, waiting for him to show any sign that he needed 
her.

She was still waiting for him, he realized.  He'd become a master 
at the advance and retreat game.  But Scully didn't seem to be 
playing any more.  He'd kissed her at New Year's, then made a 
self-effacing comment about it, hoping she'd contradict him.  
But she'd smiled, and agreed, and they'd gone on.

He made coffee and stood at his window to drink it.  It was a 
brilliant day, one of those rare cloudless days in February 
that seemed to hint that spring was almost here.  A day to 
believe in anything and everything: fresh starts, new avenues 
to explore.

This is what New Year's Day should be like, he thought.  This 
sense that anything is possible, that the slate is wiped clean.

"Jeez," he said aloud.  "Enough with the cliches already." Next 
thing he knew, he'd be making a list of resolutions.

There was really only one thing he should do, he realized. 

He needed to see Scully.  If he could reconnect with her, then 
everything else was just details.  Maybe for once he'd be able 
to just talk to her, forget all these little games and maneuvers.  
And maybe for once they'd get beyond just laying down innuendoes.

Tomorrow.  He'd do it tomorrow.  Right now, he just wanted to 
clear his head.  A run might do the trick, or a quick game of 
basketball.  He'd give himself, and Scully, a little more time.

x-x-x-x

Scully sat for a while after the service ended.  She wished she 
could feel the peace she'd seen in Mulder's face, hard-won as it 
was.  She felt restless and unsettled.

She'd already begged off going to her mom's, thinking she'd be 
hearing from Mulder.  He hadn't called before she left for church, 
and a quick glance at her phone showed he hadn't tried to call 
during, either.

She still wasn't worried, but she didn't want to go back to her 
apartment as though she was waiting to hear from him.  She got 
into her car and when she pulled out of the church parking lot, 
she didn't drive home.  She didn't drive toward Mulder's, either.  
She just wanted to be moving.

x-x-x-x

The coldness of the air took Mulder by surprise as he stepped 
onto the sidewalk.  At least it seemed like February.  California 
had seemed much too warm for winter and it was disorienting.  He 
did his stretches and headed out, adopting an easy, loping gait.  
He didn't know where he was heading, but he'd know when he got 
there.

It felt good to run.  He began to feel more like himself.  He 
wondered what Scully was doing.  Probably out running errands, 
if she wasn't still asleep.  She'd not slept on the plane home.  
He knew that because he hadn't, either.

He wouldn't begrudge her the time.  She'd been his strength and 
his sanity not just for the past several days but for years now.  
He knew it had taken its toll.  He'd been selfish and demanding, 
and she'd allowed him to get away with it.  She'd cracked the 
case, and she'd held him together when he cracked, too. 

He remembered the feel of her hand under his on the flight home.  
She had been his touchstone, his link to reality after so many 
days of unreality.  He'd let go reluctantly only when they'd 
landed.  Maybe he shouldn't have let her go.

There were other times he remembered, other touches.  They'd so 
often been on the verge of something, and maybe if he'd kept 
contact just a little longer one of those times...

Maybe he should go to her now, and tell her what he'd been 
thinking about, get it out in the open.  He didn't want to wait 
until the next crisis came up and made it impossible once again.

If he knew Scully, she was giving him his space right now, 
thinking he had to mourn, to sort through his feelings, or 
whatever.  She'd stay away until he invited her in.  For her, 
the timing couldn't be more wrong.

For him, the timing couldn't be more right.  He felt a clarity 
of thought that had eluded him for a long time.  

"Time to head for the showers, Mulder," he said to himself, 
startling a passerby.  "And then, time to get into the game 
for good."

x-x-x-x

Scully drove past the Hoover Building and wondered about Mulder.  
She hoped he'd stayed home and took some time for himself, but 
he might be in the basement even now, looking for new avenues to 
explore, new questions they hadn't yet learned to ask.

She wanted to see him, but not in the context of work.  She'd 
been waiting a long time for the right moment, but it always 
seemed to recede into the future as they got closer to it.  She 
drove past the Hoover and toward the Mall.

She thought about the kiss they'd shared on New Year's.  It could 
have been more.  They'd both wanted it to be more, she was certain 
of it.  But something had stopped them that night.  She wasn't 
sure what.  Something always seemed to stop them.

She found a place to park and got out.  The wind had a definite 
bite to it; it kept all but the hardiest souls indoors despite 
the sunshine.  She wrapped her coat around her more securely and 
walked on, head bowed against the wind.

It would have been so easy to kiss him back.  But Mulder had 
given her an out, and like a coward, she'd taken it.  It wasn't 
the first time she'd retreated.  She remembered another time, 
another hospital.  Mulder had told her that he loved her, and 
she'd scoffed at him.  She hadn't been particularly welcoming 
this time, either.

Mulder had done his best.  Perhaps it was time that she made the 
first move.  She could make this their own personal New Year's 
Day.

x-x-x-x

Mulder was losing momentum.  He'd called Scully's place and 
there was no answer.  He'd been so certain she would be there 
when he called.  She wasn't picking up her cell phone, either.

What should he do?  Drive over there anyway and wait for her?  
He didn't want to scare her, and her first instinct would be to 
think that he was hurting in some way, which would keep them on 
unequal footing.

Maybe he should just go into work anyway, get a jump on the 
week.  Maybe this strangeness would pass when he got back into 
the routine.

The rut.  The rut he wanted out of.  The one where he could look 
at Scully, but never touch her.

He made a U-turn in the middle of the block and headed away from 
the Hoover.

x-x-x-x

Scully sat huddled in her coat facing the Tidal Basin.  It was 
unlike her to be so undecided.  What was making this so hard?  
What was she still so afraid of?  Was she waiting for some kind 
of sign?  Lights in the sky, spelling out what she should do?

She scoffed at herself for her cowardice.  Because that's what 
it boils down to, isn't it, Scully?  she scolded herself.  You're 
afraid.  You know that things are going to be different now.

She *was* shivering, but she assured herself it was merely the 
cold wind.  She fished her phone out of her pocket and pressed 
the speed-dial for Mulder's number.

No answer, either at home, or on his cell phone.  She didn't 
leave a message, but stuck the phone back into her pocket, 
leaving it on.  Just in case.

Waiting for another sign from Mulder, Dana?  So you can reject 
him again? her inner voice taunted her.  

She used to be braver.  She used to reach out to him, brush his 
hair off his forehead, reach for his hand.  But that was before 
he'd started responding to her touches.  She'd used them for 
years to get his attention, and now that she had it, she didn't 
seem to know what to do with it.

Get up, Dana.  Go find Mulder.

She stayed where she was.

x-x-x-x

The Mall was nearly deserted, strange for a Saturday even this 
time of year.  He walked toward the Tidal Basin, toward a spot 
he'd forgotten about in recent years.

Time was that a certain bench there was Their Spot.  It was 
their meeting place when they'd been separated as partners, 
and then abandoned when it was no longer needed.  He still 
came back here now and then, when he needed to think.  It 
seemed like the right place to be today, somehow.

There was someone sitting on their bench.  He felt a touch 
of annoyance.  There were plenty of other benches along here, 
none of them occupied.

It couldn't be Scully.  This was the last place he'd expect to 
find her.  But it was.

x-x-x-x

"Hey, is this seat taken?"  

Scully jumped at the familiar voice, but then turned to him and 
smiled.  She didn't question why he was here; this must be the 
sign she hadn't been waiting for.  "No, but I should warn you, 
I'm in the middle of a personal crisis right now."

"Maybe I can help.  I've had some experience with those."

He sat down.  His fingers brushed against hers.  It was the 
slightest of touches, but she felt the warmth.

"What are you doing out here?  This isn't what you usually do 
on Saturday, is it?"

"Are you keeping tabs on me, Mulder?"  she asked.

"No, but I usually know where you are on Saturday, because you're 
with me."  He smiled self-deprecatingly. "On a plane or in the 
office, generally speaking."  Though I'd like it to be someplace 
a little more private, he thought.

"Well, for starters, it's Sunday," Scully said.  She had to laugh 
a little at his disbelieving look.

"It's Sunday?  You're kidding," he said, but Scully shook her 
head.  "No wonder I feel like Rip van Winkel," he muttered.

"You must have needed the sleep," she said softly, not wanting 
to bring up anything he'd rather not talk about.

"Yeah," he said just as softly.  "I must've."  He leaned forward, 
resting his elbows on his knees.  "Really, though, Scully, what 
brought you here today?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully.  "I just ended up here.  
What about you?"

"Kind of the same thing," he said slowly.  "Though actually, I 
think I was looking for you."

"I think I was looking for you, too," Scully said.

For a few moments, they just looked at each other.

It's now or never, Scully thought, and drew breath to speak.  
As she did so, she felt his hand reach for hers.

Time to fish or cut bait, Mulder, he thought, and then, I gotta 
stop thinking in cliches.  He took her hand.

They both started to speak at the same time, and then they both 
smiled.  Scully ducked her head, her fingers playing with 
Mulder's.

"Can I ask you something?"  he said softly, and she turned to 
look at him, lips slightly parted as if to say, "Yes."

He bent his head, leaning in close enough to feel her breath on 
his cheek.  He was as close as he'd been to her dozens of times 
before this, to whisper a confidence to her, or to hear her 
murmured reply.

But instead of speaking, he turned toward her and pressed his 
lips against hers.  Scully pressed back, and he felt her hand 
reach up to rest on his shoulder.  He did the same, their other 
hands still twined together, completing the connection they'd 
been trying to make for a long time. 

Question asked and answered, to the satisfaction of both.

end.

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