TITLE: Where We Ought To Be AUTHOR: Michelle Kiefer EMAIL: msk1024@aol.com ARCHIVE: Just keep my name attached SPOILERS: all things RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: A, V KEYWORDS: Post Ep, MSR DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 productions. AUTHOR'S NOTES: Gratitude and love to Kestabrook for friendship and beta talents. Visit the rest of my stories at: http://members.aol.com/msrsmut/MichelleKiefer.htm Where We Ought To Be (01 of 01) by Michelle Kiefer "So, you and Colleen really hit it off," Mulder says with a hint of amazement. He takes his eyes off the road to glance her way. "Believe me, I'm more surprised at that than you are," she says with what might be a chuckle. That is if she was the kind of person who chuckled. Which she isn't. "How did you meet her, anyway?" "You gonna get mad if I say I met her on the internet?" he asks with a gleam of white teeth. "Actually, one of the crop circle researchers in England suggested I get in touch with her." "Did you know she was a physicist?" she asks, trying to gauge how well he knows Colleen. "There's the turn, up ahead." "No, I had no idea. Maybe that explains why you identified with her." He slows the car, looking for the house. "What's the house number?" "3442. It's that one on the right with the big porch," she indicates. "Mulder, I don't know exactly what it was that made me so comfortable. There was a kind of serenity about her." Mulder parks the car and looks at her with affection. "It sounds like she was able to help you find some clarity." He smiles and gathers up the folder of papers he is bringing Colleen from the researchers in England. "So, are we going to have some yummy tofu and bean sprouts?" "I suspect you aren't getting a juicy steak," she teases. "Health food may send your system into arrest." They walk up the path and stand on the porch, breathing in the mild spring air. He stands so close that she is sure he can feel the heat coming off her. He leans down and seems to be sniffing her hair. This ought to make her nervous, she thinks, but she finds it rather intriguing instead. She rings the doorbell and relaxes against Mulder's comforting presence as they wait for someone to answer. Too soon, the door opens and Colleen greets them. "Right on time. Dana, it's wonderful to see you again," Colleen says as the turns to Mulder. "What a pleasure to finally meet you, Mulder. I love being able to put a face to the voice on the telephone." "Thank you so much for inviting us for dinner. Whatever we're having smells wonderful," Mulder says. He seems to be as taken with Colleen's warm and joyful spirit as Scully was when she first met her. "I'm glad you could come. I can't thank you enough for bringing the packet from England for me." Colleen guides them from the entry way into the house. "Carol is a wonderful cook; she's been busy in the kitchen." As Colleen goes to check on Carol, Mulder looks around the house, mouth open in wonder much as Scully's had been at her first visit. The house seems alive, breathing. Warm wood glows under the light of dozens of candles; the air scented with sandalwood and lemon wax. Energy pulses like life's blood through the rooms. Scully watches as Mulder drifts from object to object, fascinated by the shapes and textures. "Pretty amazing, huh?" she suggests, coming to stand with him before a wooden structure that resembles something DaVinci might have dreamt up. He runs gentle fingers over the smooth wood, and she thinks he has the most beautiful hands she has ever seen. "It's like imagination come alive," he says in awe. She comes close and slips her hand into his. She finds it so easy to touch him these days. The night he came back from England had signaled a change, somehow, as they talked late into the night. She smiles even now at the memory of drifting off to the sound of his voice. Waking, stiff and uncomfortable, hours later on Mulder's couch, she had moved through the silent apartment. The wood floor was cold beneath her stocking feet. Standing in the doorway of his bedroom, watching the moonlight catch the angles and planes of Mulder's strong features, she'd felt a pang of love so strong her breath had eluded her. He woke, as if her mere presence exerted some pull on him, disturbing his sleep. He had smiled at her and extended a hand, beckoning her to come closer. She had felt the almost magnetic pull and had taken the remaining steps to his side. Words weren't spoken and weren't needed as she slipped out of sweater and skirt and climbed into bed beside him. If life were a movie, they might have made passionate love to a crescendo of lush music, but the reality of jet lag and emotional exhaustion made a night spent holding each other more practical. She slept in the warm shelter of his arms, smiling to herself with the knowledge that it was a matter not of "if" but of "when," and that "when" was going to be soon. The sound of footsteps on polished wood brings her back to the present. Carol, face pink from the heat of the kitchen, returns with Colleen to shake their hands and announce that dinner is nearly ready. They return to the living room where snacks have been set out. Mulder and Colleen chat about the recent crop circle activity or lack thereof, and Carol tells Scully that she is a psychiatric social worker. "So, do you get to travel overseas much?" Colleen asks. Scooping a bit of hummus onto a wheat cracker, Scully shakes her head. "No, most of our work is stateside, though a few towns have felt like they weren't on this planet." Scully reflects at what a novel experience this is for them. This must be how normal people act--dinner with friends, small talk. It occurs to her that it feels rather natural. Carol hops up to check on dinner, and Mulder excuses himself briefly. Colleen turns to Scully with a look of amused curiosity. "If I didn't know better, I would have thought a different woman entered the house tonight. Something clicked into place for you, didn't it?" Her generous mouth is turned up in a smile. "I guess it did ... click into place. That is actually a very apt description." Scully finds herself smiling as well. Dinner proves to be both delicious and healthy: homemade pasta with fresh herb and tomato sauce. Scully enjoys the delicate flavor and notices that Mulder has a second helping. She suspects that he is longing for some meat and predicts that they will end up at Burger King before the night is over. Relaxing over coffee, Scully notices the subtle affection that plays between the two women. Hands that linger a beat longer than necessary while passing cup and saucer, small touches made in passing. How familiar the secret dance seems. Good-byes stretch out as all four stand in the doorway. "I hope we can do this again, and soon," Colleen says, and Scully is sure she means it. Colleen embraces her warmly in one final farewell. "I'm so glad you found the place that was right," she whispers and smiles as she releases Scully, who blinks back tears and nods. The ride back to Scully's apartment is peaceful, mild evening air filling the air through the lowered car window. She watches his face in the moonlight, the streetlights' shadows passing over it as if a faulty vertical hold button controls the windshield. He surprises her in bypassing the fast food restaurants, though she can almost visualize his thoughts of double cheeseburgers. Parking is difficult, and they have to walk nearly a block when they get to her apartment. They both consider it a given that he will come in with her tonight. He sprawls on her couch, arms and legs boneless, and it pleases her that he is so relaxed in her home. His casual slouch reminds her of a twelve-year-old boy. In the kitchen, she pulls bread and leftover chicken out of the refrigerator and assembles a hasty sandwich. She returns to the living room bearing a tray with the. sandwich and cold drinks. "How did you know I was still hungry?" he asks in amazement. "Seven years, Mulder. I can read you like a book." She drops onto the sofa next to him. "Thath's scary," he says around a big bite of sandwich. Thoughts swirl in her mind like dry leaves in the wind. She had once thought that her life had ended up miles off course, and she had felt adrift in an ocean that was too large and frightening to understand. How ironic that she had found the harbor only after losing the map. "I had fun tonight," she says, sounding a little distracted. "You're a million miles away." He nudges her leg with his own. "What are you thinking about?" "Something Colleen said right before we left. She said I had found the place that was right. It reminds me of an old Shaker hymn I learned for a choral group in high school." "You were in a choral group?" he asks with barely concealed laughter. "Talent was optional," she says, punching his arm. "I still remember the words." "Go on," he prompts, his voice suddenly gentle. He takes her hand in his, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. "It's a gift to be simple, it's a gift to be free. It's a gift to come down where you ought to be." She recites the words, sparing him the musical version. "I feel like I've come down where I ought to be." "What's the rest of it?" his voice is thick with emotion as he brings her hand to his lips. "And when we find ourselves in the place just right, we will be in the valley of love and delight." She thinks that this might be the right time for "when." And turning, she pulls him down to meet her kiss. End (01 of 01) Simple Gifts , a Shaker hymn Tis the gift to be simple, tis the gift to be free, Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be; And when we find ourselves in the place just right, T'will be in the valley of love and delight. When true simplicity is gained, to bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed. To turn, to turn will be our delight, Till by turning, turning, we come 'round right.