She remembers how his eyes fluttered open when her small hand slid over his larger one. She remembers how he released the blanket he was clutching to grasp her palm.
She tells him about the drowsy but rather adoring way he gazed up at her when he sighed, “You came back.”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” she weakly reprimanded.
“Thought I told you... I sleep better when you’re with me.”
Not bothering to suppress a smile, she recalled, “You did say that, didn’t you?”
“Mmmwhat are you waiting for then? Get in.”
“Stiles, there’s hardly any sp—”
She remembers the droplets that leaked from his eyes when he appealed, “Please. We can share. I wanna... I wanna share everything with you, Lyds.”
Proceeding to have an existential crisis while your supposed rival is nestled happily between your thighs isn’t really an ideal situation to be in, is the conclusion that Lance comes to as he reflects on all that’s happened within the past few days following what he’s started referring to as, ‘the night everything got a whole lot more homoerotic than usual’.
But it’s the third night in a row that he finds himself in this exact same situation, and he’s starting to run out of excuses about why this keeps happening, or on how to explain what the fuck is even going on between them anymore.
And there were stars everywhere – in the winter sky outside her window, all over the ceiling and the walls, even on his cheeks and in his eyes.
Drenched in serene comfort, their faces mere inches apart, she gazed at him. His expression was soft, relaxed, content. The incandescent glow from the Christmas tree was tossing flares behind his head like a halo. Stiles was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen – all of the light from the inside somehow visible on the outside. Within it, she saw her best friend, the person who knew her better than anyone else, the person whom she trusted with her secrets and her life.
Two years earlier, Lydia never thought she could feel so close to anyone. But everything that she and Stiles built since then had brought her to a place where she couldn’t imagine a life without him. She wondered if he felt the same, and when he spoke to her, she knew that he did.
Summary: She focuses on the precious rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand, and she remembers the moment when she saw him – a glowing beacon in the dead of night.
A night she will never forget…
Lydia stood breathless before Stiles. His eyes were already locked on her, his expression one she had seen many times – not surprised, relieved. She remembers the simple words they exchanged; a spoken form of shorthand that had been perfected long before. She remembers the amber in his irises, radiating pure love. She remembers the openness of his arms, ready and willing to accept her, just as she is. She remembers her heart guiding her forward, needle of a love-struck internal compass pointing with absolute precision towards her magnetic north – Stiles. And then…
She remembers his arms encircling her and the committed motion of his lips equaling hers, passion for passion, as they sought to reclaim the physical connection that they had been deprived of for three long months. They were two halves of one whole, torn apart and tattered at the core…but seamlessly fusing together again.
They kissed. Their lips pressing with purpose and fitting in ways she had never even imagined were possible. They kept kissing. Her hands caressing his face, and his clutching her back…and her waist…and her hips. Her fingers exploring the angles of his cheekbones and the curves of his ears, and his knotting into the fabric of her black floral romper, pulling her closer…and closer. Her thumbs skimming his eyelashes, and his massaging circles into the sides of her ribs. Her nose against the side of his, and his smashing into her cheek. They kissed, and Lydia let herself dive right into the bottomless pool of affection between them, knowing full well that Stiles would be there to help her stay afloat.
When they parted, they looked upon each other with wondrous stares and watery eyes. Stiles was with her, alive and safe. She knew he was real. She felt it all along – her love for him more present, more reassuring than anything she had ever known. Stiles was with her, and she would no longer have to escape to her dreams to be with him. She could see him in front of her, eyebrows cinched in understanding of her pain, one side of his mouth granting her the magnificent revelation of a smile. She could hear him, panting bursts of emotion that echoed through silence. In those blissful moments, his exhales became the oxygen that expanded her lungs, revived her heart, and lifted her spirits. She could breathe in his scent – pine needles, and laundry detergent, and Stiles – same as it always was. She could taste the mint that he had nicked from the pocket of her dress, only a short time before he disappeared. She could feel him, hold on to him, and relish in the way his body reacted to her touches; his chest shuddering and his pulse erratically jumping beneath her ring finger. In those long-awaited moments, there was inimitable heat between them, powerful enough to convert a cold metallic cavern into paradise found.
They hugged. A hug to be the envy of all that preceded it. Stiles nuzzled along the side of her face, and Lydia nestled into the space between his neck and shoulder – that perfect nook that had been carved out just for her. She remembers his strong arms enveloping her and her fists secured to his shoulder blades, brushed cotton flannel cushioning her palms and knuckles. She remembers the way their whole bodies were leaning in, searching for and finding respite in the divine physical representation of their love.
They hugged, and their bodies swayed in unison – the first dance of the rest of their lives. Together.
So begins the second year of being parents. They have had a wonderful first year getting to know their little girl and each other once again. A year of tears and happiness, and now it’s time to.........
A Patchwork Heart 3c/8
Chapter Three
Pieces of Her Heart
Not to be outdone, Scully adds the places where her heart has been “lost” along the way.
Picking up the pen and turning the pages, Scully read again the words he had written down. She remembered the time in Maine, and how angry he had been when he left. As soon as he had, she knew she had pushed too far, but she had seen how he was beginning to tumble down the rabbit hole.
It was harsh and she knew it hurt him, but it also snapped him out of his thoughts, causing him to focus on her. He had clenched his jaw and it made her heart feel as though it was clenched as well.
How odd it would be that in such an angry and hurt moment, he would consider that a moment of love. As he had left her motel room and gone to his own, she wanted to go to him, but knew it would be wrong. He would have stayed if he had wanted, but he had needed some time. She had stood by her door waiting to see if he would open his own and come back. He had not, but she stayed standing there for a while, worried for him.
Turning the page to an empty one, she picked up the pen and wrote down: Quantico, D.C hearing, Minnesota, Oklahoma, Virginia, Idaho. She looked at them knowing exactly what they meant to her, as Mulder joined her, a blanket over his arm and carrying two cups of tea.
Handing hers to her, he set his on the railing and covered her with the blanket. He picked up his cup and sat beside her, putting the blanket over his own legs.
“So, how did you do?” He grinned and she smiled, letting the cup warm her hands
“Better than you. How many did you have? Five? Hmm…” She shrugged and smiled. “I got six, but who’s counting?”
“You, apparently.” He laughed, bumping her shoulder.
“Just saying,” she said, taking a drink as he pushed the swing slightly with a quiet laugh.
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed and she chuckled. “But, Scully, it’s so much more than five times or even a hundred. It was ongoing and continues to be so.”
“Hmmm… but I still got more... in writing,” she teased.
“Ha! Well, let’s see.” He took the notebook from her and opened it to the page where the pen had been laid as a marker. “Oh yes I see, seven words, six places. Yes, you definitely beat me.” He closed the notebook and she took it back with her eyes narrowed. He laughed as she set the notebook beside her.
“Oh, you will be beat. I will be victorious,” she said and gave him a look. He howled with laughter and she joined in as they drank their tea and rocked in the swing.
“Do you think other people behave this way?” she asked, thinking of Elise and her husband, or any of her past friends.
“How do you mean?”
“Do you think other couples argue over the things we do? That they try to outdo… love? That they have bets the way we do? Or more importantly, the standing reward when we win?” He laughed again and shook his head.
“First of all, we didn’t state there was a bet, no wage has been placed, although I know it never really needs to be stated,” he said as they both laughed. “And no, I don’t know about others, Scully. But what I do know, is that it’s certainly not a question I would ask anyone. ‘Hey do you and your wife/partner have bets where the reward/payment is oral sex?’ Yeah, I could definitely see myself asking that question.” She laughed loudly and he winked at her.
They drank their tea and sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Do you want to head in now?”
“No, not just yet. I want to write a bit, expand on my seven words,” she teased and he smiled. “I also want our girl to know it wasn’t ever just one sided. There are pieces of my heart across this country too. Not literally, of course.” He scoffed and she smiled. Taking her cup from her and kissing her forehead, he got up and walked inside, smiling at her as he did.
Covering up a little more with the blanket, she picked up the notebook and opened it. Looking at the list of places, she picked one and began to write.
______________________
Quantico
Teaching at Quantico was something she enjoyed, always had. Now though, after being in the field, especially having been with Mulder, it lacked a certain appeal.
She liked it, yes, but it was not the same. However, she was an FBI agent, so she went where she was told. Of course, they were not partners, but Mulder was still contacting her, still writing reports for her to read and gain her opinion and expertise.
When he came in with his new “partner,” her heart sank at the sight of him. Not until she saw with her own eyes, did she believe there was a chance they would be back together.
After they left, she kept at her work, but her heart was not in it. Taking a break, she left the room for a coffee.
When he called later, she teased him, asking about his “new partner” and his responses made her smile. Under all the jokes, she heard that he missed her as she missed him. Neither seemed keen to hang up, but eventually she did.
Smiling, her heart felt different than before- happy and light, something she had not felt in a long time. She would have denied it, if anyone said anything, but it felt like love.
_______________________
Washington D.C.
Sitting alone at the senate subcommittee hearing, as questions were asked regarding Mulder’s whereabouts, she remained silent no matter how they continued their questioning. Even if she knew, she would not tell them. He was her partner and she would not give him up.
They stared her down as she continued to remain silent and then she heard his voice behind her. Turning around quickly, she saw him and her breathing increased as her heart pounded.
He had a bloody spot on his head, evidence of some trouble he had escaped from, but good God, the sight of him shook her to her core. She always saw him as a handsome man, but in that moment, she saw him as more than that; he made her very blood tingle.
As he walked past and sat close to her, she could smell him, and it made her lose her train of thought. He was okay, alive, and goddamn, did she want to embrace him.
Do more, if she was completely honest with herself.
As they left the hearing room, she told him what she had learned and what she believed was happening. He accepted without hesitation and they hurried outside, hailing a taxi to the airport, asking after what had happened to him.
She looked at his head, touching his face gently, when what she had really wanted to do was climb into his lap and kiss him, not caring about the taxi driver or any repercussions. She wanted him more than she would have ever had thought possible.
She physically put her hands under her legs to stop herself from touching him further, needing to remain professional.
But, in that moment, she recognized that no one else made her feel the way he did.
No one.
Without even trying, he had taken a piece of her heart when he left and as he walked into that hearing room, it was as though he was bringing it back to her.
________________________
Virginia
Sitting in Jackson’s bedroom, looking at his pictures, the things he had up on the walls and on the shelves, she knew he was William, knew it without any confirmation. There had to have been a reason she was seeing the things she was seeing.
He was calling to her.
As she left the room, the snow globe in her pocket, she ran into Mulder and he stroked her face, nodding at her before putting his hand on her back as they walked down the stairs.
At the hospital, as the body of their son lay on the table beside them, Mulder’s arms around her were all that were keeping her from falling over. As he led her out of the room and they walked down the hall, he kept an arm around her.
As they arrived at the lab, he stopped her, looking into her eyes.
“Whatever these tests show, if it’s not him, we will find him Scully. If it is him… Well, we’ll cross that bridge in two hours.” She nodded and sniffled. “Whatever the outcome, we will get through it.” She looked at him and he nodded, put a hand on her shoulder and rested his forehead against hers gently.
“Scully,” he whispered, and she heard so much in those two syllables. His love, worry, care, concern, and fears. Above all, she heard his love and she stepped closer, laying her head on his chest. She held him, unable to speak, far too overcome with emotions to say anything.
He sighed and held her until she pulled away, wiping her eyes and nodding. He glanced at the doors to the lab and she said she needed the restroom, knowing she could not face dropping off Jackson’s samples.
Using the bathroom, she washed her hands and wiped at her face. Looking at her reflection, she sighed and dried her hands. Walking out the door, she found Mulder waiting for her. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the waiting area.
As she sat on the couch, he nodded and said he would be right back. He returned soon with coffees for both of them, setting them on the table. Sitting down beside her, he sighed and she put her head on his shoulder.
“Two hours, give or take,” he whispered, and she nodded against his shoulder. His hand found hers and interlocked their fingers.
Everyone continued on around them, their lives not concerned with the two people on the couch whose hearts were simultaneously hopeful and breaking, as they waited for lab results to know for certain if the body down the hall was their son.
_________________________
Oklahoma
They were called in to help with a case involving a possible string of bombings in Oklahoma. As they listened to the agent in charge, Mulder sighed, shifting his weight back and forth. Still not back on the X-Files, he felt every case but those were a waste of their time.
She gripped his elbow and he glared at her, his eyes annoyed. She raised her eyebrows and he nodded with a sigh, his movements stilling.
Dispersing a few moments later, he guided her to the door with a hand on her back, when someone called her name. Turning around, she saw Thomas Schaeffer walking towards them.
He shook her hand, a big smile on his face as he asked how she was doing. She smiled back and gripped his hand. He had been in a couple of her classes at Quantico and they had also been in a study group together.
He told her he was called in from the field office in Atlanta and they laughed at an old joke. Mulder cleared his throat, and she introduced them, noticing how Mulder gripped his hand tighter than normal. Annoyed at his actions, she made a point to remember to talk to him about it later.
Thomas walked away soon after, with plans for them to catch up later. Scully stared at Mulder and he shrugged as she rolled her eyes and walked away, ready to help with the case.
Later at the motel, she was lying on the bed when Thomas knocked at the door, looking to grab a bite to eat at the diner next door. She agreed and they walked across the way. He was staying at the motel too, as were most of the other agents.
Over salads and the special of the day, he told her about his wife and twin daughters. He hated being away from them, but knew that was the job. She smiled and he showed her some pictures, as she exclaimed over how cute they were, with their big green eyes and blonde curls.
As they walked back to her room, Mulder stepped out of his own room. He stared at them, his eyes moving from one to the other. Thomas said good night and continued onto his room.
“You guys had that catch-up then?” he asked and she nodded, keeping her expression neutral. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. I’ve always liked him. He was fun at Quantico, and always kept us laughing.”
“Oh, he’s funny, huh?” he asked, looking toward Thomas’s room. “He’s in the Atlanta office, yeah?”
“Hmm, yeah.”
“Long way from D.C.,” he said, his foot tapping quietly, his eyes still on Thomas’s door. She bit back a smile and nodded.
“He likes it there. His girls are in a good school and his wife has a great job.” Mulder’s head whipped around to look at her as she crossed her arms and bit her cheek; his relief obvious as he tried to hold back a smile.
“Oh, that’s… nice. Good for him.” They stared at each other and he cleared his throat. “So you ate already?” He looked towards the diner and she nodded.
“But, I didn’t have any dessert.”
“Well, that’s just unacceptable,” he said and she smiled, before pressing her lips together. “Do they have pie?”
“I don’t know, as I didn’t eat dessert,” she reminded him and she rolled her eyes.
“Let’s remedy that then, shall we?” He gestured for her to walk ahead of him and she stepped forward, his hand landed on her back, his fingers rubbing softly, causing her pulse to race.
_____________________
Minnesota
There were many times that they were sick. Being on the road, not always sticking to a balanced diet, and spending time out in all kinds of weather. Both of them suffered through colds, continuing to work, unless they were no longer able to do so. The worst time though, had been when Mulder had a very high fever in the middle of a terrible snowstorm.
They were stuck in a small town, with no hope of leaving. He was sick, sleeping most of the day as she checked on him and made sure he was okay. He was so hot and her supplies were limited.
With a lack of medication, she cooled him with a washcloth, wiping his chest, back, arms, neck and face. He mumbled and moaned as she did, shivering despite his ever rising body temperature.
The heat in the rooms died as the power went out, plunging them into darkness as the snow howled outside. She moved into his room, bringing along all of the blankets from her bed. She was freezing, even with the many layers of clothes she had on. She laid close to him in his bed, his heat warming her.
Waking up at four in the morning, the dark surrounding her, she felt his face and found it to be cool to the touch. She smiled and moved closer as his arm went around her and her name fell from his lips.
________________
“Hey.”
She jumped, as he walked out and sat down beside her. Setting down the pen, she closed the notebook, but he took it from her, flipping through the pages.
He hummed and then sighed, shaking his head. She looked at what caught his eye and she saw it was the entry from when he had been so sick.
“I don’t remember much about those couple of days,” he said, and she nodded in agreement.
She took the notebook from him and closed it, setting it beside her and laying her head on his shoulder.
“I didn’t finish my list,” she said as the swing began to move, and he laughed.
“So, it’s a draw?”
“Not hardly. You interrupted me or I would have finished.”
“Hmm, You’ve been out here over an hour. Your hands are freezing,” he said, taking one into his own, rubbing it gently before raising it to his lips.
“Maybe a bit, but still, I was nearly done so I’m taking the win on this one.” He laughed again and nodded kissing her knuckles.
“I am more than happy to concede. More than happy.” She chuckled and then they fell silent, before she sighed and huffed out of breath.
“What?”
She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “It’s just… Seeing it all in black and white, thinking back on my own memories, it took us so long to get there. I loved you for so long and obviously you loved me and yet…” He nodded and sighed.
“You’re not supposed to fall in love with your partner,” he whispered.
“No, you’re not, but we were pretty good at breaking the rules.”
“I’ll say,” he said with a laugh and she chuckled softly. “It all happened when it was supposed to, Scully, even if we never said or acted on it, we knew. I knew anyway.”
“I knew, of course I did. It’s just…”
“What?”
“All that amazing sex we could’ve been having, Mulder,” she moaned and he let out a huge laugh.
“While true, I’d say we’ve more than made up for it. Remember that trailer we had? God, we had a lot of sex in that thing.”
“It was the best way to pass the time.”
“And it was hot as hell. God, you were so naked all the time,” he hummed and she laughed. “So naked.”
They fell silent again and rocked the swing, her head on his shoulder and their fingers interlocked.
“Maybe we don’t include the sexy trailer story in this book of love for our daughter to read,” she said, and he nodded in agreement.
Sitting up and rising from the porch swing, they started to collect their things to head inside. It was much warmer in the house and it felt good after being outside for so long. She dropped the blanket on the couch and stood in the living room.
“You know, even with all these moments in time, pieces of our hearts, whatever you want to call it, it’s all figurative of course. We can’t literally lose pieces of our hearts. A heart is not shaped the way it’s portrayed anyways. It has ventricles…”
“Ohhh…” He groaned loudly and she looked at him, his head dropped back as he washed their mugs. “Don’t bring your doctor logic into this, please.” He turned to look at her as he put the mug on the side rack, picking up a dish towel and drying his hands as he shook his head
“It’s the truth,” she said, trying not to smile and she walked towards him, crossing her arms
“And boring and unromantic,” he noted, stepping closer to her and she smiled, glancing up at him. “Very unromantic, Miss Scully.” She uncrossed her arms and looped them around his neck. He kissed her and she hummed against his lips. He stared at her and she grinned.
“What was the point of your very unromantic observation?”
“My point was,” she said, as she pushed at him, causing him to fall onto a dining room chair, and she straddled him, his hands landing on her hips. “If a heart was in fact shaped as we are led to believe, and we were equating our stories to losing pieces, would it not stand to reason that our hearts are empty or no longer whole?” She raised her eyebrows at him, his thumbs rubbing the skin under her shirt.
“Hmm,” he breathed. “While that is incredibly hot and… I love you getting all science-y on me… I think you’re thinking incorrectly.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, his thumbs moving in slow circles, causing her body to react, as her breath caught and she exhaled heavily.
“How am I mistaken then?”
“Hmm,” he said, his thumbs moving higher as she pushed into him slightly. “Well, maybe I said it incorrectly too. I said I lost a piece of my heart, but I think what I meant was… It was given to you.” He smiled at her and she wrinkled her brow.
“It’s not that I lost my heart and the pieces were left there, but more like, we were there and the piece of my heart that fell for you, was freely given to you.” She smiled and he wrapped his hands behind her back, and under her shirt, locking his fingers together.
“It doesn’t quite answer the question I asked,” she said, with the teasing grin. “Even if you gave it freely, wouldn’t your heart be empty or rather holey, like a Swiss cheese heart?”
He laughed and pulled her closer, her head resting on his chest, her arms tucking in and grasping his shirt. He sighed deeply and she closed her eyes, feeling him breathe.
“No, I wouldn’t liken it to a Swiss cheese heart,” he chuckled, moving a hand to her hair and stroking softly.
“My heart, and your heart for that matter, the pieces we gave freely, and yes figuratively, if we imagined them leaving behind holes, then wouldn’t it make sense that the pieces simply switched places?”
She raised her head and looked at him, his fingers tangled in her hair. He smiled, with his eyebrows raised, and she searched his face.
“How are you so cheesy-Swiss cheesy even–and also so goddamn adorable at the same time?” she whispered and he smiled moving his hand from her hair to her face, his thumb running across her lips. She kissed his thumb, his eyes closing as she did.
“A patchwork heart,” she whispered, and he opened his eyes. “The pieces given and shared, making up a new heart. Each of us carrying the other. God! We are so disgustingly sappy! What in the hell happened to us?!” He laughed and she shook her head, making a face. He shook his head and stroked her face again.
“I’ve always been this sappy, as you well know,” he said quietly and she nodded. “A patchwork heart sounds about right. The pieces fitting together imperfectly and yet making it whole. Like a cut-and-paste job by a child in school. It’s messy, but it all fits.” She smiled and he pumped his eyebrows at her. She stroked his face and he leaned into her hand.
“God, I love you. It’s truly so disgusting how much, but I do,” she said softly and he nodded.
“I love you too. Patchwork heart and all.” He smiled and she kissed him gently, cuddling into him once more.
“Patchwork heart and all,” she whispered and he hummed, stroking her hair, the clock ticking behind them as they each took a deep breath, and listened for the beating of their perfectly imperfect patchwork hearts.
Mulder makes a purchase that he is excited to share with Scully. A connection to their past and the future.
February 2020
“Hey, Scully,” Mulder called from downstairs, looking around the living room with a smile. He had heard her puttering around upstairs since they had put Faith to bed over an hour ago.
She had been exhausted, a full day of playing at the park and chasing after the older children. They had walked around the pond and fed the ducks, always on the lookout for the one they saw last year that had been so gentle with Faith.
Coming home, she had yawned through her dinner, nearly falling asleep before she finished her meal. A quick bath and one story was enough to put her to sleep, her breathing deep and heavy as he laid her in her crib. Closing her door, he went downstairs as Scully headed into their bedroom.
“What?” Scully called back, her tone hushed. He smiled as he stepped closer to the stairs and looked up at her.
“Would you mind joining me downstairs, please?”
“Why?”
“Because I asked so politely,” he said with a smile. She cocked her head to the side and he imitated her. “I have wine.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled, and he knew she would be joining him.
“Okay. Let me grab some socks and I’ll be down.”
“All right,” he said, drawling out the words in imitation of Matthew McConaughey, snapping his fingers and pointing them like guns, causing her to laugh softly.
He smiled as he walked back to the surprise he had set up for her. Two glasses of wine sat on the coffee table and everything else was ready, except for the lights which he quickly turned off, save for the one on the staircase. Waiting with excitement, he heard her begin to come down the stairs.
“Why… why is it dark down here?” she asked when she was halfway down. “What are you doing… oh… Mulder, no. Oh God. Please no.”
“What?”
“Mulder, where…? How…? Where did you find that?”
He looked at the carousel full of slides set on top of a stack of books on a chair and then the white sheet he hung from the archway into the kitchen. Looking back at her, he watched her looking at the same things with a slight frown on her face.
“Scully, you act as though you’re not happy about watching a slideshow,” he deadpanned, knowing exactly how she felt about past slideshows, having heard enough of her groans as she sat in their basement office.
“Oh, you got that right. My God, where did you even find this?” she asked, touching the machine and closing her eyes. “The sound and the warmth of this… it’s not exactly PTSD, but it’s a close relative- a cousin perhaps.” Opening her eyes, she shook her head and moved her hand with a shiver.
He laughed and walked to the coffee table to pick up the glasses of wine. “Maybe this will help with your terrible suffering.” He handed one to her, and made to clink their glasses together.
“Hold on,” she said, pulling her glass away before his touched hers. “I didn’t say I was going to watch it.”
“Well then, I’m sorry, you don’t get the wine.” He tried to take it from her but she moved back too quickly. Raising his eyebrows at her, she shook her head.
“Mama needs her wine,” she said, her voice suddenly low and husky. “She slid down a lot of slides today. And climbed through multiple playground tunnels. She needs this wine.” Holding the glass away from his grasp, she held her other hand up, stopping him from trying to step closer.
“Well, to be fair, it is easier for you to do those things, Scully, as you still meet the height requirement.” Her eyes widened and he watched her struggle to not laugh and remain stern. Laughter won out as she shoved him and shook her head.
“You’re such a dick sometimes,” she said as she laughed.
“I have such a dick, or I am such a dick?” he teased, as she raised her eyebrows and bit her lip.
“Both,” she answered, her eyes roaming his body, his blood immediately racing. Taking a drink of her wine, he watched her throat as she swallowed it, thinking of the taste of her skin.
“Don’t try to tempt me, Miss Scully. Your womanly ways don’t work on me.” It was a goddamn lie every time he said it, and he knew it, but this was a chess game; all the pieces carefully laid out, and he was about to win. No way was he going to back down now.
“Mulder,” she chuckled, stepping past him with a shake of her head, and headed toward the couch.
Check, he thought with a grin, knowing she was about to admit defeat. His grin disappeared quickly as she took off her thick white robe and sat on the couch with a teasing smile, her glass of wine in hand.
Watching her sit cross legged in her plaid pajama bottoms and one of his old long sleeved gray henleys, he swallowed and licked his lips. Two of the buttons were undone and her right shoulder was exposed, the shirt far too big on her.
“Uh huh,” she nodded, with a smirk as she pulled the shirt up her shoulder, despite his protests as he walked towards her. “I simply sat down and look at you, coming to me, just as I knew you would. You would toss that projector out the window if I really used my womanly ways.” She smiled and took another drink of her wine.
“Actually, I was just coming over to set down my glass,” he said, putting it down slowly, holding her eyes as he did.
“Such a dick,” she said quietly, her words sounding hollow as her lips were still pressed to her glass. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she sighed. “Okay, Mulder, against my better judgment, and only because there’s a bottle of wine, I will sit through another one of your slideshows.”
Checkmate! He thought, triumphantly celebrating with a wild dance, though only in his mind.
“But Mulder, I swear to God,” she warned, pointing at him. “If there are any dead, exsanguinated cows… one, let alone six, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”
He laughed and then froze, looking at the carousel with a frown, not entirely sure it was free of cows.
“Mulder? I don’t like that look of uncertainty on your face…”
“No… no, we’re good.”
“I’m not sure I quite believe you. Bring the bottle of wine over here and set it on the coffee table. Mama will need more than one glass if she’s gonna get through this.”
“No, we’re good, I promise.”
“Mm-hmm. Wine please.”
He laughed and went to do as she asked, grabbing the remote for the slide projector on the way back. Setting the bottle down, he sat beside her with a grin, his excitement spilling over. She sighed and cut her eyes at him and he laughed.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad, here we go.” He pressed the forward arrow and a picture of a sign covered the white sheet. “Yellowstone! The very first national park. Dedicated on March 1, 1872, it became a place for everyone to enjoy the unique hydrothermal and geologic wonders of the area.”
Clicking to the next slide, they saw a campground with many tents. “Accommodations are plentiful in Yellowstone, whether in lodges, cabins, hotels or campgrounds. Although I’m not sure a lot of those were available when these particular pictures were taken.”
The next slide popped up and Scully choked on her wine and wiped her mouth, looking at him questioningly.
Two men were standing by a grill, cigarettes in their mouths and smiles on their faces. They were bare chested and clad in only bathing suits: very short and tight bathing suits, as was the fashion of the time.
“What? What is this? Who are these people?”
“This is… Bud and Fred. They are being manly men, providing for their women and children, cooking dinner over an open fire. It was the fifties, this was the only way most men cooked.”
“Bud and Fred,” she said, her eyes twinkling, a huge grin on her face.
“Yup, and this…” He grinned back as he clicked to the next slide and two women appeared. They were standing together, in bathing suits of the same fifties style, large white sunglasses covering their eyes, and scarves tied around their hair. “This is Nancy and Sissy. They have been best friends for years and this is their first long distance trip.” Scully laughed and nodded, taking a drink of wine and putting her head on his shoulder.
“Tell me more about this little group.”
For an hour, they went through the carousel of slides, laughing and drinking the entire bottle of wine, as he told her about the lives he created for the people in the photos.
Bud and Nancy had two children, Kip and Susan. Fred and Sissy had two boys, Tommy and Bobby. The families enjoyed their trip together; camping, fishing, and hiking. There were hot dog roasts and days at the beach, everyone brown and happy. The cars they drove were big and the men took great pride in their ownership, judging by the many photos taken in front of them.
The women were dressed to perfection, even while in bathing suits, hair and makeup always proper and in place. Sissy was a bit of a flirt, constantly preening for the camera while Nancy laughed beside her, the prettier of the two, but seemingly unaware of it.
The landscape was beautiful and so different than it looked now, it was like walking into a past neither of them was yet a part of, but to which they felt a special kinship. The time before cell phones, the Internet, streaming devices, Google, and twenty four hour news cycles. Instead, it was a time when life was spent outside, the world felt safe, and an adventure waited around every corner.
The last slide was of all of them on a pier, the blue ocean stretching out behind them. The men and boys were in casual suits, and the women and girls in dresses, no doubt heading out to a fancy lunch. Everyone looked so happy to be together, judging by the smiles and the closeness in which they stood.
Mulder clicked the remote and the room was filled with white light. Scully sighed as she rubbed his leg and then raised her head from his shoulder.
“That was my favorite slideshow you’ve ever shown me, everything was so beautiful, and not one single cow; dead or otherwise,” she smiled cheekily and he laughed. “I love the story you created for them, no matter that it was purely fictional. What other adventures do you suppose they had?”
“Funny you should ask,” he answered, as he stood up and set his glass down. Walking over to a box, he heard her following behind him. Opening the lid of the box, he showed her boxes of slides inside of it.
“What?” She pulled one out and opened it. Taking out a slide and holding it up, they saw a young woman in a graduation cap and gown, Bud and Sissy beside her. “This must be Susan.”
“Well, she’s actually called Barbara, not Susan,” Mulder said with a smile. She turned her head, bringing her arm down, and looked at him quizzically.
“Mulder, how do you have a box of someone else’s family’s slides?”
“Remember when I had lunch with Skinner a couple of days ago?” She nodded and he continued. “On the way home, I happened to see a sign for an estate sale. I was curious and thought I’d stop in and see what was being sold.”
“That was when you got the big bowl? The blue one?”
“Right,” he nodded and she put the slide back, but still held the box. “I also saw this slide projector sitting in a box on a table. I opened it and found it was in amazing condition for being so old. I felt a sense of nostalgia for all the slideshows I put you through over the years, and I knew I had to have it.” She smiled and he grinned. “I asked how much and they told me, but didn’t mention it came with this box of slides. I had them set it aside for me as I continued looking around. I found the big bowl and not much else we absolutely needed, so I went to pay and discovered that box with the slide projector. I explained I only wanted the projector, but they insisted I take the box as well.”
Taking out a box of slides, he opened it and pulled one out at random. Holding it up, they saw a Christmas tree and gifts beneath it, and they both smiled.
“As I looked at these, I saw it was years of photos and it felt weird to have someone else’s private photos and memories. I called the estate sale company and inquired about the family, only gaining a name, and did some sleuthing. Turns out, Bud was named Patrick and Sissy was Maureen. They were married, not Bud and Nancy, like the story I made up for tonight.” He put the slide back and replaced the lid.
“So, I had their first names and surname: Archer, and I began to see what I could find,” smiling at her, he put the box back and stared at them. “For all the complaining I do about Facebook, within an hour of searching, I found Barbara Edwards, née Archer.” Scully smiled at him and he nodded.
“Barbara is seventy six and lives in Colorado. Her parents passed away within a few months of each other and she was left with all the legalities it entailed. It’s been very difficult for her as she has some health problems and was not able to fly here to oversee the estate sale. She had no idea that the photos were even there, not having seen them for years.”
“And you, no doubt, offered to send them to her,” she said softly with a knowing smile and he stared at her.
“Of course I did,” he said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t you want them if it was you?” She nodded and touched his arm, squeezing lightly.
“I would expect nothing less from you, Mulder,” she said quietly and he nodded.
“She was so happy. She kept crying and telling me what a wonderful person I was and that I would be blessed for my kindness.” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I told her I had already been blessed by all I would ever need and she cried again.” Scully laughed and buried her face in his chest.
They were quiet, the hum of the projector the main sound in the room. Pulling back, she stared at him with wet eyes and a smile.
“So why the slideshow then? They are still her personal photos.” He smiled and stroked her cheek.
“Barbara asked how many boxes there were and when I said ten, she laughed and cried. She said she remembered watching them as a kid and then when she was older, always mesmerized at seeing herself growing up in pictures. I asked what her favorites were and she said this vacation,” he said, looking at the projector. “They were gone for the whole summer and it was one she always looked back on fondly. She asked for me to share her favorite vacation with my family before I sent them to her and so I did… just took a few liberties with their story.”
Scully laughed and put her head back on his chest, her arms holding him tight.
“We don’t need to send her the big bowl though, right?” she asked and he laughed, rubbing her back.
“No. I did ask, of course, but the big bowl is ours.”
“Good. Because I really do like it.”
He chuckled as he closed his eyes and held her close, listening to the hum of the machine and the memories it held…
“The girl obviously died of something. If it was natural causes, it's plausible that there was something missed in the post-mortem. If she was murdered, it's plausible there was a sloppy investigation. What I find fantastic is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there. You just have to know where to look.”
“That’s why they put the “I” in “FBI.” See you tomorrow morning, Scully, bright and early. We leave for the very plausible state of Oregon at eight a.m.”
“It's a…”
“Dead cow! Exactly. Or more specifically, a dead 900-pound Holstein, its body completely drained of blood as was this one, this one, this one, this one, and so on. Six, all in all, approximately one a week over the past six weeks.”
“A series of geometrically perfect rings appearing almost impossibly overnight in a field near Cambridge, but that was merely prelude of what was to come. Three years later, in 1994, even more complex formations occurred simultaneously on opposite ends of the English countryside with the Mandelbrot Set, were it still there, at its center. Then, in 1997, even more complex formations occurred... and I'm not wearing any pants right now.”
“A corporeal likeness that appears unbidden from the spirit world the sight of which presages one's own death or... a double, conjured into the world by a technique called bilocation… which in psychological terms represents the person's secret desires and impulses committing acts that the, uh, real person cannot commit himself ... or herself?”
“Mulder, the slide please,” she whispered, breaking into his thoughts, and he chuckled, amazed once again at how well they knew each other.
“Don't go thinking I'm going to start doing the autopsies,” he whispered back and she laughed softly.
“Well, now that you’re about to lose your box of slides, and we definitely don’t have any here, what exactly was your plan when you purchased the projector?” she asked, pulling back to look at him.
“I’m glad you asked,” he answered, a smile pulling at his lips, even as she let out a suspicious groan. “When I saw it, it made me nostalgic for our past like I said, but it also made me nostalgic for the past itself. The days when the projector screen was pulled down in the classroom, or home movies were watched. The sound of the slide projector, reels of tapes, a VCR rewinding, a record player… that’s our past, our memories. Faith will grow up with information at her fingertips. She won’t know the time it took to learn how to use a card catalog, microfiche machines, or even using a copy machine.” He shrugged and she stepped back, placing her hands on his chest.
“I can’t say that I don’t envy her. I hated that microfiche machine. And so did you, if I remember correctly, which I usually do,” she teased, patting his chest.
“That’s just it,” he said, holding her wrists gently. “I don’t want her to have to ride her bike to the library to learn about a subject she wants to discover like you and I did.”
“Buuuuuut,” she said with a smile.
“Some things, Scully… some things I want her to experience the way we did. I want her to share that with us. I want her to love that scratchy popping sound a record has when it starts, or feel that excitement of what will be seen when a projector screen is being set up. I want her to have that thirst for knowledge.”
“Mulder, she’s your child. She was born with a thirst for knowledge, of that I have no doubt.” He smiled and nodded, as she tilted her head and smiled at him. “But I understand what you mean and I love that you bought that projector, especially to share it with her. Even if it still brings up some images that cause me to just…” She shivered and he laughed.
“There is one thing I will insist upon though,” she said with a stern expression.
“No exsanguinated cows, I know.”
“No,” she laughed. “Well, yes, but not that. We need to get a projector screen, because that sheet will end up hanging there for too long if we don’t. I know you, Mulder.” She raised her eyebrows and he laughed.
“That you do, Scully,” he said as he pulled her close again. “That you do.”
He smiled as he thought of all the things there would be to share with Faith. Myth and reality and how to merge the two into fun learning experiences. He thought of the eye rolls he would see from Scully as he shared photos with Faith and told her about Big Blue, Sasquatches, and aliens.
He then thought of Barbara. Her favorite memories were tied to a trip taken sixty eight years ago and soon she would relive it when the box of slides arrived in the mail.
Photos would bring those beloved memories to life.
They had years ahead of them with their little girl, to create memories like the ones Barbara had with her family. Trips, birthdays, Christmases, and everyday little insignificant moments that would turn into big ones. He could not wait to capture it all and share it.
