Title: Some Enchanted Evening (1 of 2) By: Tess E-mail: tnv099@aol.com Distribution: Usually yours for the asking. Spoilers: None. But I'm envisioning this as being set sometime in late S5 or S6 Rating: PG-13 Content: SAR Disclaimer: If I owned Mulder and Scully, I would not be nervous about what is going to happen in S8. I don't own them and it is thanks to CC, Fox and 1013 that I am nervous. I'll have to trust them. Special thanks to Aly for maintaining a website for me. You can visit it and find all of my stories at: http://acovington.home.mindspring.com/tess/index.ht ml And Char always takes the time to read what I've written and then kindly makes it better with her thoughts and suggestions. This time is no different than any other. Thank you. Some enchanted evening you may see a stranger you may see a stranger across a crowded room And somehow you know you know even then that somewhere you'll see her again and again Some enchanted evening someone may be laughing you may hear her laughing across a crowded room And night after night as strange as it seems the sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams Who can explain it who can tell you why fools give you reasons wise men never try Some enchanted evening when you find your true love when you hear her call you across a crowded room Then fly to her side and make her your own or all through your life you may be all alone Once you have found her never let her go Once you have found her never let her go Rodgers & Hammerstein - South Pacific Some Enchanted Evening by: Tess I pull into the circular driveway and wave off the valet indicating that I am just here to pick someone up. Scully and I are booked on a 9:00 p.m. flight to Chicago to attend a two-day seminar. 'Law Enforcement and Community Relations' or some other bullshit title. I'm not really sure what the seminar is about. I've spent the last two weeks trying to weasel my way out of it. But Skinner is adamant. Damn continuing education credits have seeped their way out of corporate America and into the bureaucracy of the federal government. I jog up the steps of an old Victorian mansion that has been converted into a banquet facility. Scully is here to attend a family party. She made arrangements to drive to the party with her mother so that I could pick her up and we could take one car to the airport. I step into the mansion's foyer and head toward the music. My eyes scan the room, looking for my partner. I stop when I hear the lilt of a woman's laughter. The sound is enchanting and instinctively, I turn to find the source. She is on the other side of the room, talking to an older woman. She's wearing a dress that reminds me of the color of cranberries, overlaid with black lace. Its floor-length skirt has a deep slit, which reveals strong, shapely legs. Her feet are encased in a pair of strappy black heels that look painful to wear but are sexy as hell. I can't see her face, but her hair is a mass of dark red curls that brush her nearly bare shoulders. A cousin? I wonder, immediately intrigued. The hair would seem to indicate that she is a relative. "Fox." I am startled out of my reverie and turn as Margaret Scully glides up to me. "It's lovely to see you!" she exclaims as she rises up on her toes. I obligingly lean toward her and brush my lips across her cheek. "You look wonderful." She blushes at my compliment. "You are a charmer," she smiles. "Yes, ma'am," I grin. "I'm here to pick up Scu..Dana, but I don't see her." Mrs. Scully looks over my shoulder and then back at me in confusion. "But..." "Mulder!" I turn at the sound of Scully's voice. The woman in the cranberry dress raises a hand and beckons to me. "Mulder!" I peer across the room at this beautiful stranger. How does she know my na...Scully? Mrs. Scully takes me by the arm and leads me across the room. As we draw closer, I see that the woman whose laugh had captured my attention is in fact, Scully. She touches me lightly on the arm and tips her head back to meet my gaze. "Hi," she says softly. She is exquisite. She's Scully and yet she's not. Her eyes are sparkling; her lips, painted a shade that compliments her dress, curve upward prettily. I am...captivated. She is speaking again and I blink, forcing myself to pay attention. "...to introduce you to someone. Aunt Grace, I'd like you to meet my partner, Fox Mulder. Mulder, this is my aunt, Grace Donnelly. She and my Uncle Nick are celebrating their 50th anniversary today." "I'm pleased to meet you Mrs. Donnelly," I murmur, taking the older woman's hand in mine. She is a handsome woman. She wears her fading auburn hair in a soft knot on the nape of her neck and her blue eyes dance merrily as she shakes my hand. I am struck with the notion that this is what Scully will look like in about 35 years. "Are you Mrs. Scully's sister?" I ask. "Sister-in-law," she corrects. "Dana's father was my brother." I nod and search my memory for the banal small talk that I learned at the countless dinner parties my parents gave during my childhood. "Congratulations. 50 years of marriage is certainly a milestone. I'm sorry that I have to steal your niece away before the party is over." Scully's aunt laughs and turns to face her sister-in- law. "You told me he was handsome, but you didn't mention how polite he is." Scully groans and leans toward her aunt. "Say goodnight Gracie," she says. "We've got a plane to catch." "Now, now...my dear Dana. Surely you have time for one little dance with this handsome young man," her aunt says suggestively. Mrs. Scully laughs out loud; delightedly watching her sister-in-law and daughter square off. "Aunt Grace!" Scully's cheeks are flushed and she flashes an uncomfortable look at me before turning her attention back to her tormentor. "Oh come now, sweetheart. I haven't seen you on the dance floor all evening," her aunt says pleasantly. "Consider it an anniversary present." Scully plants her hands on her hips and glances toward the overburdened gift table, arching one brow. Her eyes narrow ominously. "My gift is over there with all the others," she says through gritted teeth. "Yes, yes. I've no doubt that it's quite lovely," her aunt soothes. "Still..." "I'm sure we have time for one dance," I interrupt, suddenly and inexplicably eager to hold her. "But...but..." Scully sputters as I lead her onto the dance floor where the band is playing something slow and bluesy. She moves easily into my arms and settles one hand on my shoulder. As I grasp her other hand in mine, she glances over her shoulder toward her mother and aunt who are beaming happily at us. Scully flushes prettily and drops her forehead against my chest. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she groans. "They mean well." She glances up at me and I see that her cheeks are still rosy with embarrassment and her eyes are sparking with a hint of temper. I know that I'm staring, but I don't seem to be able to stop myself. Scully tilts her head back, giving me a quizzical look. "Mulder? Is something wrong?" I shake my head quickly. "Huh? No, nothing's wrong." "Then why are you looking at me like that?" "You're pretty," I blurt without stopping to think. She jerks her head back in surprise and I rush to cover my gaffe. "Of course, you always look pretty," I amend quickly. "I mean, I've always thought you were..." I groan and shake my head again as I blunder my way deeper into a mess. I take a deep breath and try again. "I've always thought you are a beautiful woman," I say softly. "But something is different tonight. I just can't quite put my finger on it." Scully tips her head and waits. "Your hair?" I speculate, eyeing one shiny tendril that brushes across her shoulder. "I curled it," she explains. I frown, studying her face for another second or two before drawing her closer. She watches me oddly for a moment, then shrugs and rests her cheek against my chest. My fingers trace the pattern of the velvety leaves woven into the lace of the dress over the small of her back as I lead her around the dance floor. The music ends and I am still considering this difference I see in my partner and friend. It is more than smoky makeup, tumbling curls and a sexy dress. Scully excuses herself to make a quick trip to the ladies room before we head to the airport. She hands me her coat check ticket. "Would you mind?" I fetch her coat and wait for her outside of the ladies lounge. We make our way back into the party so Scully can say her good-byes. "Happy Anniversary, Aunt Grace," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to her aunt's cheek. She turns to the man standing next to her aunt. "Uncle Nick, I'm sorry I have to rush out. I had a wonderful time." Her uncle gathers her up into a big bear hug and growls playfully into her neck, earning a tiny giggle from my usually staid partner. "Bye, sweetie. Don't be such a stranger." He sets her back onto her feet. "Say, aren't you going to introduce me to your young man?" he asks. He turns his attention to me, thrusting out his hand. "Nick Donnelly, Dana's uncle." Scully purses her lips and flicks a narrow-eyed glance toward her aunt, who smiles back innocently. I shift Scully's coat onto my left arm and shake hands with her uncle. "Fox Mulder, Dana's partner." We exchange pleasantries for a few moments and Scully interrupts, just as her uncle begins grilling me about my family and my job. I half expect him to ask what my intentions are toward his niece. "Well! We're going to miss our flight if we don't hurry," she says brightly. "I still have to say goodbye to Mom." She catches me by the hand and drags me away from the smiling couple. A hug and a kiss for Scully, followed by a hug and a kiss for me from her mother accompany admonishments for us to be careful. I help Scully into her coat, lifting her hair out of the collar. My hands linger as one curl twines itself around my finger while Scully snaps open a tiny, beaded, useless excuse for a handbag to check its contents. I quickly free my finger from Scully's hair when I catch her mother eyeing me contemplatively. Scully blows her mother a kiss and we hurry from the building. The valet's look of irritation changes quickly when I slap a bill into his hand. "Took longer than I thought," I tell him, opening the passenger door for Scully. We both admire the pale flash of thigh exposed by the side slit of her skirt as she slides into the car. "No problem, man," he assures me with a suggestive grin. I shake my head and climb into the car. We are running very late and traffic near the airport is heavy. We check our bags at the counter and begin to hurry toward the departure gate. I hear our flight being announced and grab Scully's hand, setting off in a light jog. "Wait! Mulder!" She's pulling against my hand, forcing me to stop. "I can't run in these shoes," she gasps. She braces one hand on my arm as she leans over and slips her shoes off. I reach for her hand again and she fumbles for a moment, juggling her shoes and trying to lift the hem of her dress from the floor. I grab her shoes out of her hand and we set off at a dead run through the airport. We stow our coats in the overhead bins and collapse into our seats moments before they close the doors of the plane. I tuck Scully's shoes under the seat in front of her and by the time the plane has lifted off the ground, we have our breathing under control and are settling down for the flight. Scully squirms in her seat by the window. "I wish I had thought to ask you to grab a change of clothes for me when you stopped by my place to pick up my bag," she mumbles as she tugs at her gown. "This is not the most comfortable dress to travel in." She shivers and rubs her hands over her bare arms. I stand up and grab a blanket out of the overhead bin and spread it over her. She snuggles under the thin wool of the blanket. "Thank you," she smiles gratefully. She is asleep before the beverage service starts. As usual. The flight is not crowded and most people are either reading or trying to catch some sleep. I sip Coke from a plastic cup, idly crunching on the ice as I ruminate on the changes I had seen in my partner this evening. It was more than just the physical differences, I muse as I struggle to put my finger on it. Suddenly my head jerks up as I recall the expression on her face as she looked up to greet me. She was happy. I recognize that as the elusive difference. She had seemed younger, unburdened. She had laughed! She was beguiling. I realize that I want to see that side of Scully again and again. Three Weeks Later The sky is threatening rain as Mulder and I hurry down the street, stepping into the restaurant just as the first fat drops begin to fall. The weather has kept many people home and the restaurant is half-empty. We are quickly shown to a booth along the far wall. When the waiter appears, Mulder unhesitatingly orders our usual. A large pizza, half veggie for me - half sausage and green pepper for him. "Something to drink?" the waiter asks. Mulder quirks a brow at me and I nod. "A glass of Merlot for the lady and I'll have a beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine," he says. The waiter brings the drinks in short order and I watch as Mulder fiddles with his beer. He is seemingly intent on drawing patterns in the condensation forming on the glass. I stifle a sigh, having come to recognize this strange behavior. Mulder has been mercurial of late. His moods can fluctuate with lightening speed. Happy one minute - pensive and moody the next. The silence lengthens as he continues his little art project. "Hey Mulder," I call. "What's up?" He seems startled by the sound of my voice. "Nothing's wrong. Why?" "Let's just say you've been acting weird lately." "Lately?" he smirks. "Fine," I clarify. "Weirder than usual. Even for you." He's playing with the silverware now. "Do you remember when I picked you up from the anniversary party a few weeks ago?" he asks tentatively. I nod; wondering what that has to do with anything. "I met someone there," he tells me as he traces the checked pattern of the tablecloth with the tip of his knife. "I met a woman there," he explains. "A beautiful woman." He drops the knife onto the table and sighs. "And I can't get her out of my head." A part of my brain registers the queasy feeling forming in the pit of my stomach, while the rest of my brain does a quick scan of the women who had been at the party. An image of my cousin, Jessica, flashes in my mind's eye. A leggy, beautiful brunette, she is exactly Mulder's type. I'm confused. I thought I had spotted Mulder the moment he walked into the party. I don't know when he would have had time to speak with Jessie. Perhaps they met out in the foyer... "Have...have you seen her since?" I ask carefully. "I've seen glimpses of her," he replies. Glimpses? Was he following her? "She had the most wonderful laugh," he continues. "It was the first thing I noticed about her." "Really," I murmur. I don't want to have this conversation any longer and I'm not exactly sure why that is. Mulder barrels ahead with his description of his dream girl, not affording me an opportunity to examine the cause of my sudden agitation with this topic. "What really knocked me out though was her smile." His voice is soft in his reverie. "And when we danced...she's this tiny, little thing but she fit perfectly in my arms." I gasp when he looks up and meets my gaze with his own. A dozen different emotions hit me all at once - joy, shock, fear, hope...anger. I know that Mulder has watched each emotion pass across my face for he has gone quiet and still, braced for my response. "Mulder," I say in a dangerously quiet voice, "are you saying that you would like us to begin *dating*?" He nods. "All because one night you saw me wearing my hair differently and dressed in something sexier than what I normally wear?" My voice is flat and careful. My interrogation voice. The waiter slides the pizza onto the table and discreetly slips away. "No." Mulder's voice is calm; his eyes are sure and steady. "Because that night I saw a different side of you. I met a woman who is happy and funny. A woman who lets her emotions show. I would like to get to know that woman better." I know my confusion must show plainly on my face, because Mulder tries again to explain. "Before that night, I thought I knew everything about you. But now I know there is much more. I want more than just a glimpse of that side of you that you try so hard to hide from me." He pushes the pizza to one side of the table and leans across to take my hands in his own. "You are Scully, my best friend, whom I love. And if that is the only person you can be when you are with me, that won't change. You will always be my best friend. I will always love you." His voice drops to a whisper. "But, I think I can fall *in love* with Dana Scully." Oh God. I free my hands and fumble for my purse on the seat next to me, standing quickly and nearly knocking over my wineglass. Mulder steadies it and reaches out for me as I step away from the table. "Please," he calls softly. "Please. Don't leave." I stand rooted in place. "I'm not...I won't..." I take a deep breath. "I'll be right back." I can see that he is afraid I'll bolt. I want to, but I won't. "I promise," I say and he nods, lowering his hand to the table. I rush to the ladies room, which is mercifully empty. I dampen a handful of paper towels and press it against my hot cheeks with shaking hands. Oh God, I think again. I never saw this coming. I brace myself against the sink and try to organize my chaotic thoughts. He's out there waiting for me and I don't know what I'm going to say to him. I'm so confused. Stunned. I never expected this. I smooth my skirt against my thighs with damp hands and force myself to take several deep, even breaths before walking back out to face Mulder. He looks at me warily when I slide back into the booth. "Scully..." he begins. I shake my head and he falls silent. "I'd be lying if I said I had never entertained the idea of what it would be like if our relationship were different or if I said I wasn't attracted to you," I tell him. He is sitting so still on his side of the booth, his entire body appears to be braced for a blow. In my mind as I left the ladies room, I had planned to tell him that I thought it was a bad idea; that I was not interested in changing our relationship so dramatically. Looking at him now, my heart clenches painfully at the thought. "Mulder...what if it doesn't work out? I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you," I say plaintively. He leans closer. "Scully, I'm not suggesting that we start sleeping together." He smiles softly at the violent blush that suffuses my face. "I don't want to lose what we have either. But I was so entranced by that tiny glimpse I had of you. Please, don't hold back on me anymore. We'll take our time getting to know each other in this new light. We'll see where it leads us." I am having a difficult time getting past the sudden image I have of being wrapped around a naked Mulder and I force myself to concentrate on his words. Can I do what he asks? It's true that I've hidden a part of myself from him. Protecting myself without ever being aware of it - can I let him meet the woman inside? I realize that I want to. I can't pretend we never had this conversation. We have to find a way to move forward - to move through this. If something is to come of it, we'll know soon enough. If not, I'll fight to keep our friendship. I am suddenly aware that my eyes have been closed while I reflected on all that has happened. I blink to find him staring at me, worry lines drawing his mouth down. I smile shakily and nod. "All right. Let's try." Mulder's smile is stunning in its beauty. "Hungry?" he asks. Suddenly famished, we eat cold pizza and Mulder finishes his now flat beer. The rain is falling steadily as we leave the restaurant. Mulder opens his umbrella and we crowd under it. We quickly walk the three blocks to Mulder's apartment, our arms brushing against each other's with every step. Mulder reaches for my hand and tucks it firmly in the crook of his elbow. I curl my other hand around his arm as well and he settles the warm palm of his free hand on top of mine. I had followed Mulder home from work when we decided to eat dinner near his apartment. Now I wondered if he would invite me up to his apartment. I am torn between hoping that he will and praying that he won't. When we turn the corner onto his street, he leads me directly to my car. He holds the umbrella over our heads as I unlock and open the car door. Suddenly nervous, I am afraid to open my mouth for fear I will make some inane comment about the weather. I resolutely keep silent and lift my eyes to his. "Drive safely," he says softly. "I will," I whisper back. He leans close and my eyes drift closed as his lips brush warmly across my forehead. "Goodnight," he murmurs against my temple. I slide into the driver's seat and start the car. In the rearview mirror I see him standing in the rain, watching me leave. On the drive home, I realize that if we are going to stand a chance at making this work, then I am going to have to make many of the concessions. Mulder has always been open and honest about who he is. I have been both envious of his ability to be so free with himself and bewildered by his desire to do so. I have zealously safeguarded so many of the little things that make me the person I am. I have carefully selected each tiny part of myself that I felt it safe to reveal. And while I enjoy working with Mulder and need him in my life the way I need air to breathe, my jealous hoarding of all of those little pieces of myself have robbed us of many chances - of finding so much more of each other - I realize this. "That stops now," I whisper resolutely. End Part 1 tnv099@aol.com http://acovington.home.mindspring.com/tess/index.html