... AND WE DANCED...

by Char Chaffin



MSR, Vignette, PG



Spoilers:  "Post-Modern Prometheus", "Millennium", "Nothing

Important Happened Today"



Dedication:  To my XF2004 friends, who still believe and whom I know

always will



Additional Notes at end





"And We Danced..."



1997



I extended my hand to her, a little shy and a lot uncertain. I hid

it under the guise of a bad Elvis imitation, all attitude and curled

upper lip.  I looked at her through my lashes, preferring to hide,

giving myself a chance to retain composure should she refuse.  I'm

sure I appeared confident and assured, but inside I was quaking.



I just wanted to hold her.  Just that, nothing more.  It had been a

hell of a year so far, and I needed that careful contact with her,

craved it.  I suppose I would have used any excuse to have her, small

and vital in my arms; God knows in our pasts I'd found all manner of

reasons to get my hands on her.



For once I needed the reason to be anything other than protection,

comfort or concern.  Not friendship.  Not partnership.



Just her.  Just me.  Just something more than what already stood

between us... 



I extended my hand during a surreal moment in our equally-surreal

professional and personal lives, cloaking my need in the cheering of

hundreds of adoring fans, hiding it within the excitement of a crowd

who also wanted to be with someone they cared about.



The look on her face was so adorable.  Startled.  Confused.  And

shy, just as I was.  But she reached out and took my hand; let

herself be pulled into my arms.  Right up against me, the top of her

head just brushing my chin, her fingers clasped firmly in mine.  I'll

bet if she'd tried tucking her face into my neck it would have been a

perfect fit.  I wanted her to do just that... but I didn't push it.



She was in my arms and I was holding her close and for once in our

five years together it was for some other reason.  For once it was

because we just wanted to be that close.



She looked up just as I was looking down; I saw the flash of her

smile and the glint of enjoyment in her eyes.  Everything inside me

softened and melted when I saw that smile of hers.  At that moment I

decided I could die a happy man, because I had the woman I loved in

my arms and if it took me forever I was going to figure a way to keep

her there for the rest of my life.  And as soon as I thought the word

'love', I realized it was true; had never been more true.



Love.  For her.  For my partner.



It made perfect sense.  Of course it had to be love, otherwise I'd

have been completely content to hold her hand in nothing more than

friendship; embrace her for no other reason than camaraderie.  But I

wanted more... had always wanted more.



Suddenly the world seemed full of endless possibilities, based on

the strength of nothing more than a moment in time.  I pulled her

tighter; she came willingly.  We locked eyes again and this time the

smile was in them as well as on her lips.  Music swirled around us

and we were moving too slow to keep up, but I doubted the singer

cared overmuch... she was too busy assuring that a dedicated fan was

thoroughly enjoying himself.  We both glanced his way momentarily; we

both grinned at the sight of this hulking oddity of humanity,

misshapen paws linked with smaller, long-fingered, slender hands.

He was singing along with his idol and in that moment I decided I

really liked Cher's music.  Well, some of it.



Then I looked down at Scully and our eyes met again; the

understanding between us was total and clear as glass.  The strains

of "Walking in Memphis" ebbed and flowed around us...



And we danced.



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



2000



The night was just cool enough, the air just crisp enough to make my

arm ache like a bad tooth.  What painkillers I'd been given in the ER

had worn off already and I was beginning to hurt, big-time.



But it was New Years Day, barely five minutes old... and I'd finally

had a chance to kiss someone I loved, as the glittering ball dropped

on Times Square and the new year rang itself in.



It didn't last very long.  It wasn't closed-lipped but neither was

it a full-blown Frenchie.  And it wasn't friendship, not quite.

Wasn't lover-like either... I suppose what it could best have been

compared to was a combination of where we were at that moment in our

lives, and perhaps a touch of where we wanted to be.  Well, at least

where I wanted us to be. 



It was sweet and it was warm and it was better than I'd hoped - and

a preview of what I also hoped would be more forthcoming in the

future.  Of course I made a stupid remark, when it was over. Of

course she saw through it, and responded in kind.  But I put my good

arm around her as we walked out the door, and she leaned in close to

me. 



It was the best New Years Eve I'd had, in many a year.  When I

murmured that thought to her, she glanced sideways at me, surprised.



"Seriously, Mulder?  This is your idea of a best New Years Eve?

Almost becoming zombie-chow, your arm in a sling?  That's hard to

believe."



I attempted to explain as we stepped further outside and the crisp

night air helped to clear my head a bit.  "Scully, most of my New

Year celebrations were nothing more than watching TV with the lights

out.  Truthfully I can't recall a single eve that I went out with

anyone, be it a date or just with some buddies.  I suppose I had

opportunities to find a girl to take to some fancy party but I never

did. I wasn't exactly Mr. Swinger, you know."



When she rested her head on my shoulder, it felt exactly right, and

her words went a long way toward making me feel less like a loser.

"Well, Mulder... I wasn't exactly Ms. Swinger, either.  I spent

plenty of New Years Eves alone.  So I suppose in a way this could be

considered one of the best New Years I've had in a long time, zombie

bait and all."



We'd reached the car and I released her long enough to fumble in my

pocket for the key, remembering belatedly that I certainly couldn't

drive it.  Sheepishly I handed the keys over, Scully started the

engine... and immediately the strains of some slow bluesy torch song

came over the radio.  She looked up; I was still standing by the

driver's side door and that music froze me in place.



The song was familiar and yet I couldn't quite place it; I only knew

that it was considered a classic, and probably a tune that got its

share of New Years party action.  Suddenly I found myself holding out

my good hand to her, with what I am now sure had to be a goofy smile

on my face.  The music was dreamy and soft, and I was recalling

another time not so long ago when a hand extended towards Dana Scully

got me an armful of warm, smiling woman.



Of course, I had to see if it would happen again.



Her eyes smiled at me first, this time.  She tilted her head to the

side, just a little bit, as if to gauge the seriousness of the

moment.  Did I really want to dance when my arm was aching and in a

sling?  When my heart was still pounding a bit from the ordeal I'd

just endured?  Or was that pounding organ a sign that once again the

woman of my dreams was just an embrace away?



It really didn't matter why.  It was several minutes past New Years

Day and a beautiful woman was rising from the driver's seat of a

rented car, a smile on her face and her small hand accepting the one

I had extended to her.  I swung her into my arms and this time her

head fit quite nicely under my chin, as she placed a careful hand on

my injured shoulder.  With my eyes closed I let the music guide me,

there in that deserted parking lot.  I let the smoky sax move us

slowly, so slowly; allowed the occasional thrum of bass to

reverberate deep inside, where I still hid my love for this amazing

woman, this partner of mine...



And we danced.



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



2001



I rose from the sofa and took several steps toward the bedroom,

where everything good and precious in my life was currently ensconced

together on a rumpled bed.  I think I'd been dozing, the drone of low

audio on the TV keeping me from getting into any kind of sleep.  I

was exhausted and worried and heart-sore.  But curled up next to me

just a short time ago with a small hand resting on my thigh had been

the one woman in the world who truly loved me... and whose soft voice

could now be heard cooing to the tiny infant I knew she nursed in her

arms.



My woman... my child.  Two miracles, and I had to leave them both.

In that moment my hatred of our chosen life paths was total and

furiously consuming.  My longing for anything that constituted

'normal' was so powerful that it almost buckled me at the knees.  I

tried not to feel sorry for myself; tried to remember that so many

men go through life not experiencing a hundredth of the love and

fortune that I now claimed as my own. 



But so many other men kept it, day after day.  So many others woke

up every morning to that sweet face on the pillow, the sound of their

baby gurgling in the next room.  They went to work every day and

returned home each night to a loving family waiting for them, instead

of fear for the future and nebulous enemies seemingly around every

corner, ready to rip their world asunder.  They didn't have to run in

order to save their loved ones...



But I did.  And that sudden hatred in my heart threatened to crush

me with its blackness.



Then I heard William cooing, and his mother humming.  The endearing

way she had, of hitting some notes perfectly and others as flat as a

pancake, eased most of the bitter from my soul. 



I'd been up for almost thirty-six hours, not wanting to sleep and

waste a minute of this reunion.  I'd held my sleeping child, after

having watched with wonder anew as Scully had nursed him.  I'd been

privileged to pat his little back and hear the satisfied burp that

worked its way out of that tiny rosebud mouth.  I'd changed his

diaper several times, marveling at how delicate he was, yet already

with a hand-grip like iron.  I'd cuddled his mother in my arms as she

dozed between feedings, William snuggled safely between us in the

bed. 



I'd let them both rest peacefully as I made my way to the living

room and sat on the sofa alone, trying to plan out a temporary future

that didn't include them... and force back the anguish of

uncertainty, that I couldn't also plan on my return anytime soon.



There were so few hours left.  I'd been making up a mental list of

desirable pastimes, and all of them included forever, with Scully and

William.  All of them involved the honor of inclusion in their lives,

the day-to-day living and working - and loving - that other men had

found and enjoyed.  Something as simple as a shared cup of coffee, or

a slow dance in the dark over the living room carpet...



When the need for just one item of my list became an ache that

almost doubled me over with longing, I decided to do something about

it - and I walked to the bedroom and stood in the doorway.  I looked

toward the bed and the clogged tears I'd held at bay all night sent

out one or two emissaries that slid slowly down my cheek.  I rubbed

them away with a shaky palm rasping across my unshaven jaw, and I

soaked in the sight before me.



In the dim room Scully's pale blue robe was a soft gleam against the

pillows, her hair a contrast in tousled red.  William's eyes were

open and his focus was fierce and direct, as he nursed with babyish

greed.  I saw the tiny hand kneading her creamy skin, saw the way she

stroked his downy head as she hummed a vague lullaby to him.  I

watched his eyelids flutter as he nursed himself to sleep, saw the

tender way she patted him until he burped a small milk bubble, and

fell asleep on her shoulder. 



When she raised her eyes to my face, they were as damp as mine.  I

stood there and I watched the two loves of my life framed in a scene

as old as time and more priceless than gold.  And I only had a few

hours left with them...



I held out my hand to her.  All the love in my heart had to have

been swimming in my eyes along with the tears that I couldn't blink

back any longer.  There was no music but my ears heard a sweet and

slow drift of notes, something I'd perhaps caught on the radio a time

or two in my past.  I was wearing faded jeans, barefoot and bare-

chested with a night's worth of stubble darkening my cheeks.  She was

tangle-haired and sleepy-eyed in a blue robe and a nightgown

unbuttoned to her waist.  We were both so, so tired -



But she stood, and took my hand, William nestled in the crook of her

other arm.  She came to me carrying my sleeping son, and I wound them

both into my embrace, as tightly as I could.  She tucked the baby

between us, secure and safe.  I felt those sweet lips press into my

chest, her head resting so perfectly underneath my chin.  Her free

arm came around me and her hand soothed up and down my back as she

tried in the only way she could to ease my pain.  She did it

wordlessly, with nothing more than the closeness of her, knowing I'd

take as much comfort as I could, and then give her back the strength

to step away when our time grew unbearably short, and I had to leave.



Sooner or later I'd have to let go, and ready myself for the next

God-knows-how-many dreary days and weeks, months, of loneliness.  I'd

walk out the door and my heart would surely not survive that measure

of pain.  My legs would undoubtedly fail to support me as I stepped

out the door and away from the two people I needed as much as oxygen

to breathe.



But for now, there was a forgotten melody in my head and the family

I'd finally been blessed with was caught up in my arms, warm and real

and eternal.  The future had been put on hold for a little while,

just a few hours more.  It wasn't nearly enough but for now it would

have to suffice, until something better and safer came along.  I'd

have to be grateful for small favors, and I really was, deep down

inside.  I threaded my fingers through Scully's silky hair and pulled

her head gently back, until I could reach her lips.  I kissed my

woman and snuggled my child as the music in my heart beat out the

measure of adoration and thankfulness for the life I'd been fortunate

enough to find...



And we danced.





end



Additional Note:  I started thinking of this over the weekend,

hanging out with my wonderful XF2004 friends.  I played it in my head

several times and then sat down last night at the computer and didn't

get up until I was finished.  Somehow it seemed right that these

three episodes should all be linked together with something as simple

as enduring love, and a continuing dance.



Fic title lovingly borrowed from Brad Paisley, with hopes that he

really doesn't care one way or another... <g>





Thanks for reading!  As always, love hearing from you!  Email me

anytime:  char@chaffin.com



I have this website... and it loves visitors!  http://char/chaffin.com