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Chapter Text

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Prelude (in the Key of Canis Major)

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Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived,
If you will see her: now, by my faith and honor,
If seriously I may convey my thought
In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
With one that, in her sex, her years, profession,
Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more
Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her,
For that is her demand, and know her business?
That done, laugh well at me.

All's Well That Ends Well

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Lowenberg House
Miami, Florida
Sunday, January 12, 1997
7:18 am

Opening her bedroom door, Margaret Scully stepped into the hall, leaving the Pomeranian stretched out on her pillow. She checked to her left as she exited, since from here she could see into her daughter's room, to tell that the bed had not been used. In the morning silence, she heard the television playing softly, so she knew her daughter and Mulder had spent another night in front of the set together.

She sighed, remembering her daughter's vociferous protest from earlier. We're *partners*, Mom.

Margaret would never understand this distinction they kept making the way his mother and stepfather seemed to. Oh, children, I *know* you're not physically involved. I admire your decency and restraint, given that we live in a time when people have casual sex on street corners, but really! We mothers can tell some things. In his own strange way, Fox Mulder obviously worshiped her daughter, while Dana was closer to him than she had been to anyone other than her own father.

Margaret recalled her brief, uncomfortable conversation with the Lowenbergs on this very subject. Caroline had told her some of the horrors her son had endured, so she understood his fears about bonding with others. Using his camp experiences to illustrate how adversity could strengthen a personal bond, diamond hard, Max had warned her about pushing them. His mother had also told her she was unsure whether, even if they had loved each other, she and Bill Mulder could have made the transition successfully from colleagues to spouses.

But Margaret still lacked an important piece of the puzzle. She needed to speak to Fox directly. Now was as good a time as any. She passed through the open doorway into the entertainment center. They were asleep just where she expected them to be, on the long, U-shaped sofa, as yet another man in a T-rex costume pounded around on the screen. It must be therapeutic for him to watch these old horror films, giving him the distance he needs to laugh at own his fears. Walking quietly up to the couch, she smiled at the sight. Dana's head lay on a throw pillow partially covering her partner’s lap, while he was holding onto her shoulder. Mulder must have retrieved a blanket from the hall closet, for there was one bunched up over her feet and calves.

When she saw that the patches of scrapes on her daughter's arms and legs still oozed, it was all she could do not to go to her with gauze and tape to bandage them. But Dana had said they would heal faster if left exposed, so she refrained. This time, Margaret resolved to approach them as silently as she could, to avoid frightening Fox as she had at Thanksgiving. Bending over him, the relaxation in his face told her he had found a temporary escape into slumber from the demons within and without.

"Fox?"

He opened one hazel eye. "Mrs. Scully!" He reached for her hand. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "We need to talk."

If her daughter's partner had been one of the little red canines that shared his name, he would have slunk down and cringed. "Okay." The voice emerged as an anxious whisper after he released her palm.

Lifting his head off the cushions, he gently squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "Scully?" She moved, but did not awaken. "I need to get up for a minute. I'll be back." He ran his long fingers over her hair, barely disturbing the ochre strands in his gentleness. Standing, he slipped the throw pillow back in place before he walked over to his partner's mother.

Scully hugged the cushion, settling back down. "Mulder?" Her voice, barely above a whisper, quavered.

He returned to kneel beside her, pulling the blanket back up over her body. "It's okay, Scully. I'm just talking with your mother. I'm not running off to chase mutants without you."

Margaret imagined they must have fussed over the coverlet as well, until Dana gave in to his urging.

Her eyes still closed, Scully reached for his shoulder, bumping his face with her fingers before her palm rested limply on its target. "Okay."

After he lowered her arm to the cushion, he rose slowly, turning, with not a little reluctance, to Margaret.

Leaving the room, they walked through the house to the pool deck, where they took seats in two Adirondack chairs painted light blue. Startled by the scraping of the furniture as Margaret and Mulder pulled them closer together, a mockingbird ruffled its feathers before swooping over the clear water.

"What is it, Mrs. Scully?" He was upright on the wooden slats, expecting the worst.

Margaret decided not to waste his time. "How do you feel about my daughter, Fox?"

He clenched his fists tightly between his knees. "She's my only real friend, Mrs. Scully." His voice took on a rough edge, as if he were about to cry. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. If I had known, I never would have let her go." He reached over to take her hand. "I'd give up my life for hers, just to keep her safe."

Now his head was bowed, his tears falling, so Margaret rubbed his palm with her thumb, letting him have the moment to grieve. Claiming his attention with a gentle shake of his fingers, she smiled softly. "I know that. But, I'm not talking about dying; this is about living."

The flow stopped, caution replaced the pain of near-loss, as he eyed her warily. "Mrs. Scully, I'm not 'in love' with Scully, if that's what you asking about." He dropped her hand to pass both of his over his face. "I was hopelessly in love with Phoebe Green, so I know what it feels like, and I know the difference."

Margaret narrowed her eyes at him. Do you, really, Fox?

Mulder took a deep breath. "I trust her implicitly; I respect and value her intelligence and judgment. I don't want another partner, ever. I couldn't imagine coming to work without her there." He raised an eyebrow. "She's kept me from becoming totally lost in the X-Files and my search, kept me grounded and sane, for which I remain deeply in her debt. She's a better friend than I've had at any time in my life before, but I'm not 'in love' with her." He leaned forward. "Does that help?"

Impatient, she shook her head. "I suppose, if I were her father, I would ask your intentions towards my daughter." Mulder stood, facing away from her while he thought. I've met Captain Scully, and he knows my intentions. Unconsciously, his eyes tracked the way through the house back to his sleeping partner.

He was silent for so long she rose and walked around him to see his face. His eyes had never been so haunted and dark. The sorrow and anxiety she saw there made her gasp.

As he became aware of her, he blinked and focused on his partner's mother. He began speaking slowly, evenly. "My intentions, are to help her toward her goal to be the best FBI agent she can be, Mrs. Scully." He sat again, running his hand through his hair. "She'll push herself as hard as she can on a case, harder than I do myself at times. But that's how the agency weeds out women, shoves them aside. They load them down with so much work they eventually burn out. I've seen it happen with other women in the Bureau and I don't want to see it happen with Scully. She deserves better."

Margaret gasped at his admission. "Fox, can you *prove* any of this?"

Crossing his arms, he shook his head. "Of course not. But look at what they did to her. Almost fresh out of Quantico, they hand her off to "Spooky" Mulder and imply she's a spy." He tapped his chest for emphasis. "They try to get *me* to do their dirty work for them. Blevins knew the effort to try to rein me in would probably drive us both out of the Bureau, which is certainly what they wanted in the first place." He shrugged. "Maybe they *were* hoping we would 'fall in love', I don't know. While it's certainly true that agents are discouraged from fraternizing in the Bureau, it's not a firm and fast rule."

Margaret touched his shoulder. "All right, Fox, you're not infatuated with Dana, but you *do* love her, you know."

He coughed.

She could tell he would rather be anywhere than here, be doing anything than having this conversation.

"I know, Mrs. Scully." He was whispering now, fighting his tears again. "But it isn't what you think it is."

Angry, Margaret stood in front of him, even though she knew this sensitive man would feel every nuance of her rage, and cower before it. She decided she needed to use the tone of voice that kept four children obedient and quiet. "Then what kind of love, is it? Tell me. I need to know! I don't want to believe you're the sort of man who would use someone carelessly for your own needs!"

As she had feared, he flinched at her words, so she waited.

Lowenberg House
Miami, Florida
Sunday, 7:36 am

The early light illuminated green flecks in his eyes while they cleared, after he decided not to hold anything back from Dana Scully's mother. "Never, Mrs. Scully. I could never do anything like, *that*." He rose to pace as he composed his thoughts.

Margaret reached for his arm as he passed her. "Fox."

Facing her, he sighed. "A partnership, isn't like any other relationship you might have experienced, Mrs. Scully." He bit his lip for a moment before he continued. "My only other long-time partner was a man named Jerry Lamana. Reggie Purdue assigned us to each other. I could never see why; we were as different as night and day, he and I. He was always looking for that big case that would *make* him as an agent, so he kept pushing us into more and more high-profile investigations." He shrugged. "At the time, I was as by-the-book and details-oriented as Scully is now. I didn't need the spotlight the way he did, so I'd work behind the scenes, solving our cases, while he'd handle the paperwork and the presentations. And I'd worry, about everything." He flashed his teeth in self-deprecating grin. "Worse than I do now. Jerry would push and prod me out of that, which is why Reggie put us together, I guess. It worked well, until Patterson pulled me into his elite unit and I had to go solo."

Margaret nodded. "Dana said Jerry was killed shortly after you two began working together."

Mulder found his way over to his Adirondack chair. "Yeah, he was."

She rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Fox."

Mulder shook his head. "That's okay, Mrs. Scully. I only told you about him because..." He looked up at her, resolute. "Because what Scully and I have is *more* than what Jerry and I did." He leaned back, freeing himself from her touch. "Jer was good for me, but..." He shrugged. "It's so hard to put into words. That's the best way I can describe it. Scully and I are better and more together than Jerry and I were." Sensing Margaret's growing incomprehension, he cast about in his mind for an equivalence she might understand. "I've never had a friendship like what Scully and I share, and it's too important to give it anything other than the best of me. If I had to try to explain it, I'd say it's more like she's my - sister." Frustrated with his incoherence, he dropped his face in his hands.

Margaret knew he was revealing a hard-fought truth to her, one he had wrestled with over many sleepless nights.

As if blocking his sight made the confession easier, he continued speaking through his fingers. "I knew it first when she was taken. I kept waking up saying to myself, 'Now you've lost both of them.'"

She moved closer, waiting.

Mulder dropped his hands into his lap before he stared at the grey stones under his feet. "But she came back, just as strong and beautiful as when she walked into the basement almost five years ago. She's amazing, Mrs. Scully, the way she's fought back twice now. I'm not sure I'd have her strength, but I hope Sam does too until I can find her."

She rested her hand on his back.

He looked up at her, penitent. "I know that's not what you want, but I would like to think that if Sam were with me, I could be as comfortable with her as I am with Scully."

Thinking how deeply entwined their lives were, Margaret ran her hand over his short, dark hair. Caroline and Max are right. Although these two had pressing problems that made pursuing a romantic relationship an untenable option, neither would they let anything separate them again. Let it be, then. "That's all right, Max kept telling me not to push you, but to let you two find your own way."

Mulder stood as well. "Max spoke to you about this?" Crossing his arms, he turned to watch the breakers rolling up the beach. "Does everyone talk about us?" When she touched his back, he stiffened, expecting another disappointment.

"He stood up for you, he understands what you and Dana mean to each other, what you're going through, and he wanted me to let you two be. He tried to tell me about some of what he saw when he was younger, but I wouldn't listen." The tall man's astonished expression told her, as nothing else could, just how little Bill Mulder had valued his own son. "If anything, Dana's injuries are my fault."

Shaking his head vigorously, Mulder faced her, holding both of her hands between his. "No, Mrs. Scully, don't blame yourself. We've told you how dangerous these men are, that they would try anything to eliminate us if they thought we were too much of a problem. Yesterday was bound to happen sometime, so please, don't feel guilty. I never should have let her go."

Margaret smiled up at him. "Fox, when have you ever been able to stop Dana when she wanted to do something?" His sole reply was a rueful grin, but it told her what she already suspected. "I appreciate you trying to be like a brother to her. Your Mother has explained to me how close you were to Sam." They resumed their seats. "She told me how she would watch you two from her bedroom window, walking off to school together, your arm around her little shoulders."

His eyebrows pulled into a puzzled frown. "Mom saw that? I always thought she was too sick to notice. I felt like neither of them wanted me around. When Sam came, my Dad really didn't want her, so all she had was me." He bit his lip, the grief and joy warring as he remembered. "It's good to be needed. As long as Sam was there, I was. Mom was so distant all the time, it was like she didn't care, then, anyway."

As he stared at his feet, Margaret nodded. "Caroline saw a great deal, but she couldn't always express herself to you." She took his chin to turn his face to her, meeting his eyes with an air of sympathetic understanding. "She tried, but she couldn’t stop some of it."

He closed them, blocking his view of her concern. You can't know what it was like with him. I hope you never do, Mrs. Scully.

Dropping her hand, Margaret continued quickly so he would not feel pitied. "She said it kept her going, knowing Sam was safe with you." She waited until he focused on her once more. "Just as I know not to worry about Dana when you two are together." As his face started to darken, she smiled and leaned over. "Now, can I tell you a secret about my girl?"

He grinned cautiously. "Is it good for blackmail, Mrs. Scully?"

Margaret nodded, realizing just how much humor was a lifeline for this man. "Yes." His dancing eyes told her she had been forgiven for her harsh questions. "She always tried to beat her brothers, at everything, running, swimming, sports. And I mean when she was two, Fox."

He sat up straight, hungry for insights into his reticent partner. Outside of knowing about Ahab and Starbuck, Scully had said little to him about her childhood. "Bill Jr. was six, and anything her big brother did, she tried to do better. Children that young really don't have the motor coordination they develop later, but that never stopped Dana."

He was smiling, lost in her story.

"She would concentrate so hard trying to run or jump in the house she was always tripping or falling over the furniture. She gave herself more skinned knees and elbows than the boys did. Bill adored her for it, encouraging her to go into sports back when girls didn't do those sorts of things."

He frowned. "But Scully said she only wanted to read, and the boys and Melissa kept pestering her."

Margaret nodded. "That was later, after her first period. Her body changed, so she couldn't run as fast as Charlie. She was always a good student, so she transferred all her competitiveness to her schoolwork. Then she would be up all night studying Physics, Chemistry, Calculus or Physiology in high school. Not only did she have to beat her brothers, she had to be better than all of Evans High." She stopped, noting the far-away look in his eyes.

"Did she?"

Margaret reached over to touch his knee before she continued. When he was focused on her again, she spoke. "By a country mile. Bill was so proud of her he was ready to burst. It made the other children jealous for a while, but I didn't care." She sighed. "You see, she was a second daughter, and in times past in Catholic families, those were the girls usually sent to the convents. It happened to two of my great-aunts, and I was determined it would never happen to her. But she's so tough and self-sufficient I knew she would make something of herself. She advanced placed out of her entire freshman year, you know. I don't know if she told you, but she tried to pursue a dual MD/ PhD while in Medical School."

He raised an eyebrow. "In Physics?"

"Yes, but it was too much. She kept losing weight because she wouldn't take the time to eat or sleep, and finally her professors told her to do the MD only because she was so close to finishing it."

"You told me she was in bed with a migraine for a week after graduation."

"Mm-hum. That was after she decided she couldn't finish the PhD, too, and she was right. It wasn't that her work was poor; it wasn't, in fact her professors told me it was exceptional, but she was too weak, Fox. She was down to seventy pounds."

Mulder shook his head. "I try to watch out for her, Mrs. Scully, I really do. I know she doesn't like it, and I know I'm out of it sometimes, but I want to keep her safe."

Margaret squeezed his shoulder gently. "You always will."

He stared out at the wind-roughened water of the pool. "She's been good to me. I don't know where I would be now if not for her." Mulder faced his partner's Mother. "I have to find Sam, Mrs. Scully. I have to find her and bring her back home to Mom. Scully respects that, and when she can, she helps me search. But it's my responsibility, one I have to shoulder alone, and she understands that too."

Margaret dropped her hand to his arm. "I know she does. She's never forgiven herself for allowing herself to be captured, so you had to trade that woman you thought was your sister for her."

Shrugging, he hung his head for an instant. "Oh. That was never her fault." He raised his eyes to hers. "I've teased her about being Director one day, even though that's usually a political appointment. But for a woman, moreso than for a man, that means being alone too."

Margaret shook her head. "Fox, times *have* changed, you know."

Mulder turned to Margaret. "Not as fast as they should, Mrs. Scully, at least not in places like the Bureau. If she were a man, she could marry, have a family, and it wouldn't slow her down. But she isn't and things aren't equal in our society, regardless of all the advances women have made, in spite of all the women of accomplishment out there." He shrugged. "The FBI promotes a certain type: brash, aggressive." He studied his hands for a moment. "Not like me. I guess that's true of a lot of places. Scully's really focused, so she could, if she set her mind to it, rise as high in the Bureau as she wants to."

Margaret settled back on her chair. "Maybe that's not what she truly wants."

Mulder slid to the edge of his seat, his eyes intense. "It will happen occasionally, most often in the labs, that a woman agent somehow survives under the burdens the Bureau dumps on them. Then, she will sometimes think, 'well, I can get married now and start a family now.' But if they do that, there's another level of pressure applied. She'll hear comments about how 'your family needs you,' or, if she's a field agent married to another field agent: 'What will happen to the kids if both of you are killed?' Scully doesn't need that; she has too highly developed a sense of duty. She needs to be free to claim all the promotions and honors she deserves."

Margaret looked over, aghast. "You make it sound like such a mine field, Fox. How can anyone find happiness in a place like that?"

Mulder closed his eyes. "Eventually, all you think about is the work." He rose again, standing in front of her, his hands linked behind his back. "She's been my partner for almost five years, and I hope for at least another twenty more. But to advance in her career, she may have to move on, and I know I'll have to let her go." His lips formed into a pensive grin. "In many ways, I don't deserve someone like her."

Margaret rose, then hugged him tightly, making him grunt in surprise. "Oh no, Fox Mulder, don't start talking about yourself like that." As she released him to stand back, he dropped his chin to his chest. "I don't know many men who would do what you have done, spending your life trying to find your sister, and supporting my daughter like you do when you stand to gain so little yourself." She crossed her arms. "But I do need your help with something."

He looked puzzled. "What?"

"I can't bear to watch Dana's scrapes ooze like that. From what you told me, that car was moving at about forty miles an hour when she was flung out of it."

Mulder nodded.

"She'll protest she's a doctor, but she's also my daughter. Mothers can't be wrong on everything and *this* mother will only tolerate being wrong once today."

He draped an arm over her shoulders as they walked. "I've seen Scully after one of her falls blading, but she's never left as much skin on the bike trail as she did in the gravel out there."

Enjoying the gentle affection her foster son was sharing, Margaret hugged him with one arm around his waist.

"It was all I could do not to take her by the nearest hospital myself." Mulder slid the glass door aside and stepped back so Margaret could enter first. "Mrs. Scully?"

She smiled up at the tall man.

He chewed his lower lip before he spoke. "I hope Scully does find someone who will love her the way you want." He dropped his gaze to the metal track in the doorway. "It would be an honor and a privilege if it was me, but there's so much I have to do first, I don't know if I'll live that long. Or, if after Phoebe, I'd be ready for a relationship like that."

She patted his arm. You're a good man, Fox. "Just look out for my daughter, and don't worry about the rest, all right?"

His lips formed into a mischievous grin. "Your command is my most heartfelt wish, Ma'am."

"Mulder?" Scully queried as she felt his hand grasp her shoulder.

"It's okay. We're back."

Rubbing her eyes, she pushed off the blanket. "Did you and Mom have a good talk?"

While looking over the scrapes, Mulder took a seat by her feet. "She told me what a rotten kid you were, Scully, always beating up on your brothers. I guess that's why you stay in practice on me." He was regarding her with laughing eyes, but she was too sleepy to notice.

"Mulder! I did not!"

He grinned. "She told me lots of stories. You said were one tough girl." You're one strong, wonderful woman now. "She *said* you beat up the whole school."

Waking enough to catch the teasing in his voice, Scully crossed her arms. "That was academically, Mulder. Don't believe her." Hearing the door open, she turned.

Determined not to miss any more of the excitement, the Pomeranian preceded Margaret into the room.

Scully frowned. "Mom, have you been telling Mulder stories about me?" She noticed the boxes of gauze and tape. "No, I told you. I don't need those."

Mulder leaned close to her. "Either you cooperate, Scully, or I hold you down while she bandages you up."

She looked from one to the other. "I don't have much choice in this, do I?"

Her partner hit her with one of his best hurt puppy-dog looks. "Scully!" He pouted. "You never let me have any fun."

Smiling, Margaret passed some of the supplies to Mulder, who lifted his partner's ankle onto his knees and began taping gauze over the cuts on her calf.

Rolling her eyes, Scully let her head drop on the back of the sofa. "I'm never leaving you two alone again."

The complex knight errant, although his eyes twinkled at all the undercurrents of conversation, appeared to be totally focused on his taping.

As she applied bandages to her daughter's shoulder and arm, Margaret smiled gently at Mulder, a slight frown creasing his brow as he worked by her side. "Oh, I don't know, dear. I'd say we straightened quite a few things out this morning."

Frustrated, Scully tried to push herself off the couch.

But before she could gain her balance, her partner pulled her down onto his lap, then slid her back to the cushions. "Warned you. Hold still, your Mom isn't done yet."

Walking around to the front of the sofa, Margaret continued wrapping her daughter's wrist.

Scully shrugged free of Mulder's hold long enough to reach down to the little dog. It had been attempting, and failing, to leap onto the couch, so she deposited the ball of fur on the sofa beside her, then rubbed its wet nose. "Mr. Fuzz, once these two are through, I'll show up at work to start the move tomorrow looking like the Bride of the Mummy."

Mulder considered another risque quip, but with Margaret present, he contented himself with holding her shoulder in silence, a small smile playing around his lips.