From:             WGPD33A@prodigy.com (MR JOHN J SHENKO)
Date sent:        Tue,  7 Apr 1998 13:11:30, -0500
Subject:          Strength


Title: Strength
Author: Christina
Category: VHA
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Keywords: Mulder/Scully, Mulder/other romance
Summary: Mulder reveals a long-buried piece of his past to Scully. 
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are not mine. They belong to a man
named Chris Carter, who dreamed them up before me. They also
belong to 10-13 and Fox, businesses in which I have no part. I’ve
borrowed these characters without shame or remorse, but I
promise they’ll come back good as new (well, maybe a *little*
traumatized, but they’ll recover). I mean no malicious harm, so
please don’t sue. 

This is to all my friends and family members who think I am
obsessed and/or insane for being so involved in a TV show (you
know who you are and yes, *especially* Katie and Sarah!). And
special thanks to my tireless beta-reader, Elizabeth “Call them Fox
and Dana” Fiorentino. 

Feedback, please!!!! I love it and I answer it, so any questions,
comments or psychiatric exams can be sent to
WGPD33A@prodigy.com.

Non-shippers--read at your own risk! This is definitely an MSR, so
don’t read it if you don’t like it. And don’t flame me for it. My 
fellow
shippers, please read and enjoy!

***Note: If quotes or apostrophes are missing, sorry, I'm submitting 
this directly, 
and my email is doing strange things. I'll try to fix it ASAP. You 
should be 
able to figure it out.
 
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	“So, Scully, what’s for dinner?” Mulder asked as a dripping
Scully fit the key to her apartment into the lock and pushed open
the door.
	“You’ve got a choice between spaghetti and frozen pizza.”
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Sorry, I haven’t gotten to the
store lately.” She and Mulder were standing right inside the door
and Scully watched as the water cascaded off Mulder’s trenchcoat
and formed a puddle that doubled in size as she spoke. “Mulder,
you picked a hell of a time for your car to break down. In the 
middle
of a hurricane, on a deserted highway. Why do these things always
happen to you?”
	“Spaghetti,” Mulder said decisively, and it took Scully a
confused moment to sort out what he was talking about. “And
because I forgot to fill the car up with gas.”
	“What? You told me it broke down! Mulder, of all the
stupid--”
	“--absent-minded things to do, I know, I know. I had to walk
three miles in the rain, too.” He answered her as-yet-unspoken
question, saying, “I didn’t tell you then because I figured if you
were going to yell at me, it might as well be in the comfort of your
apartment.”
	Scully regarded the enigma that was her partner and finally
shook her head and said, “I’m going to change. Make yourself at
home.”
	Mulder watched her disappear into her bedroom, then stood
awkwardly in the middle of her apartment until he noticed the water
seeping into Scully’s carpet. Relieved to find something to do, he
busied himself by wringing out his trenchcoat over the kitchen sink.
	“Mulder, what are you -- never mind.” Scully had emerged
from her room, carrying a bundle of clothing and dressed in a
form-fitting white ribbed shirt and a pair of rather flattering jeans,

both of which Mulder eyed appreciatively. Scully tossed the
wadded mess of denim and cotton at her partner, causing him to
drop the soggy trenchcoat on her newly refinished kitchen floor.
Scully sighed, finished wringing out the coat and handed it to
Mulder. “Hang it up,” she said, then gestured to the clothes that
Mulder held, a puzzled expression on his face. “To change into.”
	“Scully, I don’t think I’ll fit into -- *my jeans*?” he abruptly
changed what he had been about to say as he took a closer look at
the denim part of the pile. “Where did you get a pair of *my*
jeans?”
	“You left them here once.” Scully shrugged and changed the
subject. “Go change. I’ll start dinner.” 
	Mulder started to speak, then merely headed to the
bathroom, racking that eidetic memory of his. He was *sure* he had
never left clothes at Scully’s apartment...He mentally dropped the
subject as he reached the bathroom and quickly changed. At a loss
as to what to do with the soaked clothes, he finally balled up the
various articles of apparel and tossed them in the tub.
	When he came out of the bathroom, Scully raised an
inquiring eyebrow. “My clothes are...in your tub,” he said, fully
aware of how ludicrous it sounded.
	“Okay, Mulder,” Scully said with a deep breath. She had
long ago learned that the only way to deal with her partner’s
idiosyncrasies was to ignore them, “Do you mind slicing up some
bread?” She handed Mulder a French bread, a cutting board and a
knife. They worked together in companionable silence, she stirring
the pasta and sauce, and he first slicing the bread, then setting 
the
table cozily for two. It was Scully who broke the silence.
	“So, Mulder, what did you say for that Bureau survey the
other day?”
	“The one that asked, ‘Do you approve of workplace
relationships?’” He gulped.
	“Yeah, that one. The one that 63% of the people said yes to.
Which side were you on?” She smiled, and if he didn’t know better,
Mulder would have classed that smile in the “coy and flirtatious”
section. And he would have been very nearly right, except for the
fact that he left out “suggestive.” Mulder swallowed again,
uncertain as to how to react to this new Scully. “In case you’re
wondering, I said a wholehearted yes.”
	“Me, too,” he quickly admitted. “Anyone in particular in
mind? Skinner perhaps?” Mulder joked, trying to lighten the mood.
	Scully made a face and threw a dishtowel at him. “No, silly,”
she said, almost too softly to be heard. She crossed the few small
steps between them and took his hands in hers, looking up into his
eyes. “Always you.”
	“No, Scully, no, don’t do this.” Mulder was torn, wanting to
admit his true feelings for Scully, but knowing he never could.
	“Why not, Mulder? Was I wrong to assume -- Oh, God, I’m
sorry.” She tried now to pull away, but Mulder held fast to her
hands. 
	“No. . .Dana, I -- I love you so much it hurts, as cliched as
that is. But I can’t.” He broke their locked gaze and stared at a 
spot
on Scully’s refrigerator. 
	“Can’t what?” Scully’s voice was again feather-soft.
	“Love you. I do, but I can’t.” A slow tear started to wind it’s
way down his cheek. Scully gently wiped it away before replying. 
	“Why? What’s stopping you?”
	“Them,” Mulder replied cryptically and rested his forehead
on Scully’s shoulder. “Dana, I’ve only loved three people in my
entire life, and two have been taken from me. I can’t let that
happen to you.”
	“Two, Mulder?” Scully asked, curious, but not wanting to
invade. “Who was the second?”
	“Oh, hell.” Mulder broke away from Scully and turned
around, running his hands through his hair. “What a time for a
Freudian slip.” He took Scully’s hand again and led her to the sofa.
“We might as well sit down now,” he said as they settled
themselves on the couch. “You’ll probably need to.” Mulder closed
his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “Dana, the
second was Melanie, my wife.”
	“Your *wife*, Mulder?” Scully looked as shocked as she
sounded. “I never knew you were -- “
	“I know. No one does. Except me.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m
beginning to think Melanie was nothing but a figment of my
imagination. She left no paper trail, and no memories of her.
Except mine.” Mulder took another deep breath. “I’d better start at
the beginning.
	“Melanie and I met at Oxford. We were both in the class of
86, and were both majoring in psychology. We dated all through
college and were married the June after graduation.” As he spoke,
Mulder’s normally tense features gradually softened and a small
smile curved his lips. 
	“Melanie was wonderful. She was a lot like you, Scully,
petite and fiery, although she was a brunette. She thought I was
crazy, but loved me despite it. She used to call me Fox.” He wiped
an errant tear away and continued.
	“At first, Melanie was just someone to have fun with, who
helped me dull the pain of Samantha’s abduction, although I never
told her about *that*. But after a while, I loved her for herself.
Melanie had an uncanny way of knowing my exact mood. She had
a wonderful sense of adventure and ... I don’t know exactly what it
was, but she just seemed perfect.
	“Like I said, we were married in June, and we moved back to
the U.S. soon after. I started going to Quantico and every thing was
fantastic. I felt as though I had finally achieved a normal life. 
Then
one day I come home and ... Melanie wasn’t there. I tried to
convince myself that she had just gone out for a bit, she’d be home
soon. Then I noticed the pictures.” Mulder stifled a sob and Scully
moved closer and put her arms around him, trying to comfort him in
any small way.
	“You don’t have to tell me, Mulder,” she said quietly. “I’ll
understand.”
	He merely shook his head, then leaned against her. “All the
pictures of Melanie had been taken. The frames were left, but her
pictures were gone. Every one. They even took the ones in my
wallet ... A few days later I picked up a roll of film that had been
being developed, hoping to find a photo of her. They got those too.
There had been one of us together, standing by the Reflecting
Pool; I was left, but someone had neatly sliced off Melanie’s half 
of
the picture. It was awful. I called Melanie’s parents, frantic, but 
her
mother only asked me, ‘Melanie? Who’s Melanie?’ Then she told
me if I didn’t stop bothering her, she’d call the police. She didn’t
remember me, either.” He paused for a moment, eyes closed. “Next
I went into our bedroom. All her clothes and belongings had been
taken, even her toothbrush. Her name was removed from our
checks. I later found no birth certificate, no marriage license, no
vote registry, *nothing*. All obliterated. She was gone, like she 
had
never been ... and no one even remembered her. She was gone.
Her and our unborn baby girl...” Mulder finally gave into his pain,
sobbing on Scully’s shoulder, clinging desperately to her.
	Scully wrapped her arms around her partner, rubbing his
back in slow circles and making soothing noises. “Shhh...It’s okay,
it’s okay...” She didn’t realize that she, too, had tears streaming
down her face. At that moment, she lived solely for Mulder, trying
to ease his pain any way she could...”It’ll be all right, love, it’ll 
be
okay...” Scully had never guessed at the amount of pain Mulder
had been through. It seemed impossible that someone could
experience that kind of grief, and survive ... She had never known
how strong Mulder was until that night in her apartment, as he sat
sobbing in her arms.	
	“Sometimes I wake up at night, sick with fear at what They
might have done to Melanie, and to our baby ... Dana, I’m so sorry I
never told you, but I just couldn’t.” he lifted his head from her
shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. “You see now why I
can’t love you. I’ve tried so damn *hard* not to, but ... I couldn’t
protect Samantha and I couldn’t protect Melanie, but I *can* protect
you. So first thing tomorrow I’m leaving. I’m getting the hell out 
of
Washington and moving to, I don’t know, Montana. I want you to
forget me, Scully.” His earnest eyes searched hers. 
	“Mulder, no one could *ever* forget you,” Scully said,
equally sincere. “And, so help me God, you are *not* leaving, even
if I have to shoot you again. Mulder, I’ve known since the very
beginning that you and your work was dangerous. If I had feared
that danger, I would have left long ago. Believe me, Mulder, I know
all the risks associated with you. And I’ll gladly take every single
one of them. You can acknowledge that or not, Mulder, but all I’m
going to do is love you.”
	Mulder swept Scully into a fierce hug. “Scully, I can’t lose
you. Not again. Not forever.”
	“What about me?” Scully cried in anguish. “How do you
think I’d feel if you left? For five years, your strength and 
friendship
had been the one constant in my life. I’ve leaned on you more
times than I can remember. *I* can’t lose *you*. 
	“Scully, I’ve relied upon you all these years, too. I would
have been dead dozens of times over had it not been for you.
You’re my anchor, Dana. You keep me from spinning off into a
madness of aliens and conspiracies. I love you.” He placed a
feather-light kiss upon her lips. 
	“Fox Mulder, will you marry me?” Scully was as surprised by
her words as Mulder, but even as she spoke them, she realized
she meant it, fully and completely.
	Scully saw the pain flicker in Mulder’s eyes as he grieved for
Melanie one last time. Then it vanished, forever, in one
life-changing word.
	“Yes.” And then --
	“Scully? The sauce is burning.”

                                                   *The End*


So, what did you think? I’m trying to figure out if I write angst or
humor better, so I keep churning out these odd humor/angst
pieces. *Please* tell me what you thought. Loved it? Hated it?
Thought it was corny / okay / weird? Write me! My email is
WGPD33A@prodigy.com.
 
***Author’s Note: I just reread this, and it’s pretty sappy, so if 
you
have an overwhelming desire to flame me, go right ahead. I might
not reply, but I’ll understand <gryn>. 

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

“Against stupidity the gods themselves contend in vain.”
 						--”The Gods Themselves”
						       By Isaac Asimov
(A great book, by the way. Read it! You’ll enjoy it.)