It's funny how when you're a little girl, you just assume that your life will follow a typical, stereotypical path as you grow into full-fledged womanhood.
It's even funnier how, for some, it just doesn't happen that way.
For all my good intentions as a child, and for all of the expectations I had for my life, I find myself considering my life the biggest joke of all.
I know, I know, you're probably thinking, 'Come on, Dana, that's a pretty harsh statement to make.' Harsh, maybe - but also a well-substantiated claim.
I mean, look at what my life consists of. I work more often than I don't. When I work, it's with a man who believes in me, respects me, who challenges me in every possible way, who stimulates me in every possible way… And, perhaps for this reason, when I'm not at work there is no man in my life.
That "stereotypical path" I previously spoke of is the assumption that when one becomes a woman, she will marry and have children. A career is an added, although not altogether expected, perk. But the husband, the minivan, the house with the white picket fence and 2.3 children running around in the yard… this is just a given.
Of course, if you don't even open yourself to the possibility of finding a man, all of these things have a pretty slim chance of happening.
It was while considering the absence in my life of these things that I turned to some self-analysis.
And, boy, did I ever open up a Pandora's Box of realizations when I took a moment to really think about my life and all that was wrong with it.
Growing up, I thought there was no other man on Earth as great as my father. He epitomized the ideal blend of warmth and authority, and there's no doubt that whatever adoration I felt for him was returned equally. So, needless to say, any man who may have tried to enter my life - in almost any capacity - had a tough act to follow if he wanted to be deemed worthy of my respect.
By the time I graduated from the FBI Academy, only a handful of men had worked themselves into my life. At that point, all I cared to focus on was my career. I'd successfully achieved my goal of becoming a medical doctor, and I wanted to try my hand at combining my expertise in that field with an area that had always intrigued me - law enforcement.
I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to feel that each day, any decision I made would work towards the ultimate goal of the people in this, our democratic society - justice for all.
There was something so appealing to me about doing my part to make this world a better place; something so satisfying in knowing that I would be a part of a team, a team with one common objective.
So you can imagine my dismay at being paired up with Spooky Mulder.
At first, I found it somewhat humorous. Level-headed and notorious skeptic Dana Scully working with the most "out there" agent in the FBI. To say Fox Mulder's reputation preceded him would be an understatement - to say his name in the halls of the Hoover building got you, if nothing else, snickers and glances from eyes filled with amusement.
My own amusement with the situation waned a little bit, though, as I realized the permanency of my assignment. But as I grew to know Mulder, I suppose it would be fair to say that I grew to love him as well.
It's hard not to love someone, at least to some degree, who cares about you, values and respects your opinions, and, oftentimes, puts your safety - and even your life - before his own.
Me and Mulder, we've shared so much over the past six years that we've been partners. When I dare to, I consider him my partner in every way. Well, maybe not every way… But mentally, and spiritually, he is my soulmate.
He is the first man who I can say, in all honesty, has measured up to my father in my eyes. I think this is why he scares me so much.
Right now, it's an exceptionally warm Saturday afternoon in DC. For the first time in a while, I've actually managed to have a few days, in a row no less, where I can sit in my apartment and have some "me" time. Yesterday, I did a little bit of much-needed grocery shopping and cleaning, then made myself a delicious Thai salad with the fruits of my grocery shopping labors. It's rare that I get to do anything in the kitchen, but I enjoy it when I do.
I've decided that for today, it might be a good idea to sit and catch up on some reading, and respond to letters from friends that have been gathering dust on the kitchen counter for far too long. Mulder and I just wrapped a case that engulfed all of our waking hours - and even some of my sleeping ones too. Lately, I've found it hard to leave work at the office. I've had far too many work-related nightmares - and it gets really hard to shake them off when you don't have someone beside you to hold you close and reassure you that everything's going to be OK.
This thought enters my mind, as I recall last night's restless attempt at slumber. This time, though, it wasn't work related - at least not directly - when I awoke in a cold sweat at 3:30 a.m., having dreamt that they took me again. The memories have been returning in bits and pieces, but never enough in my waking hours to be able to piece together what happened to me. At night, though, enough rises to the level of my subconscious accessed in my dream state that to expect a night of restful sleep would be an unrealistic thought.
I'd reached over for the phone almost immediately, desperate to hear his voice. He has this uncanny ability to talk me into a state of calm, to make me feel as though all I need to do is breathe to make everything right again.
But I decided not to call. Looking back now, I wish I had - but at the time, all I wanted to do was to let him have some time to himself.
Not that he would have minded me calling. He's never made any bones about the fact that he cares about me and will be there for me any time I need him. I just…. I guess I just don't want to seem like I depend on him too much.
"'Lo?"
I hesitated before responding.
"Mulder, it's me," I sighed into the phone.
"Scully, what's up?" he said. "Everything OK?"
I chuckled, wishing now I hadn't given in to the temptation to call him. "Oh yeah, everything's all right…" I let my voice trail off. "Actually, it's not. I, uh, I can't get my air conditioner to work and it's really getting hot in here. Other than that, things are fine, though."
I could hear the smile in Mulder's voice when he replied, "Isn't that what your super's there for?"
I instantly felt stupid.
"Of course, but he's away for the weekend," I said, feeling the blush run up my neck and onto my cheeks. "His mother died and he had to go to the fu---"
"I'm on my way, Scully," he interrupted. "I'll be there soon."
With that he was gone.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I shouted at myself, beating on the couch cushions beside me. I sat and berated myself for what only seemed a moment - until I heard his knock on the door.
I grinned sheepishly as I opened the door to him. "Hey," I said, smoothing my hands along my jeans and then tucking my hair back behind my ears. "Come on in. Thanks for coming."
He gave me one of his looks - that Mulder look, where his eyes get all sleepy looking and a slow smile spreads across his face. "Nobody can ever say I'm good for nothing, huh, Scully?"
I laughed, and pointed towards the air conditioning unit. "I'll reserve my judgement on that matter until after you look at that hunk of junk over there and see if you can fix it."
He gave me a dry mock glare over his shoulder as he walked to the other side of the room. With a few taps, a bang here or there, and a flip of the knobs on the front of the unit, it started to hum.
"Ah," I said, "I can feel the difference in here already." I smiled at him as I ran my hands through my hair and headed for the kitchen. "Can I get you a drink? I've got some iced tea in the fridge…"
"Yeah, that would be great," Mulder called out. I could hear him as he flopped himself down on the sofa.
I was pouring the drinks and could hear him humming under his breath and flipping through the pages of one of my now outdated magazines on the coffee table. His apparent comfort in my apartment brought a smile to my lips. I considered it a compliment that he felt somewhat at home in my place.
"Mulder, surely a glass of iced tea will not suffice as repayment for my dragging you all the way over here on your day off," I said with a self-deprecating roll of my eyes. "Can I order pizza or Chinese or something? It's almost dinner time… would you care to stay and join me?"
He grinned. There it was again, that Mulder grin…
"Pizza would be great," he said. He turned his eyes upward as I stood over him, and his gaze penetrated my eyes. I had to look away because of the intensity of his stare.
"What?" I half laughed, half whined.
"Scully," he began, "the best 'repayment', as you call it, you could give me would be if you told me the real reason I'm here."
Whoa.
My breath caught in my throat as I began to question just how transparent my plea for air conditioning help had been. It seemed pretty legit to me… I just couldn't fix my air conditioner. I asked a friend for help. Was that so wrong?
"I, uh… Mulder?" I said, my brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did that come from?"
"You tell me, Scully," he responded. "I have this sneaking suspicion that that air conditioner was merely an excuse to get me over here. Do you have something on your mind?"
The flush of redness that so frequently inhabited my face when I was near him crept up without warning. I couldn't believe I'd gotten myself into this situation. Now how could I get myself out of it?
The problem was that I didn't really want to get myself out of it. Maybe I should just get everything I'd been thinking since last night off my chest, and let him see past the cool façade I always projected and was so deathly afraid of revealing to anyone.
"I was lonely," I mumbled, keeping my eyes averted from his. "I guess I just missed you. It's been weird, you know, not seeing you for a few days."
"I know what you mean," he said quietly. He patted the couch beside him, and said, "Why don't you sit? I promise I won't bite."
I smiled at him, and shook my head in mock exasperation. Taking a seat beside him, I said, "I know how melodramatic I'm making that sound, and I apologize. It's just that when something's gone that you're used to having around… well, I guess it's like a child with their teddy bear, or with a security blanket. Separation anxiety," I shrugged, trying to make light of it. I wish I could shrug the feelings off my heart too.
"Talk to me, Scully," Mulder said. "I think you've got a lot of stuff weighing on your mind. Unleash some of it," he said.
"You know me so well," I smiled. "You've always been able to tell when something's up with me."
"I think you know that I know you better than I've ever known anyone. And that I care about you more than anyone else. I want to know what's going on behind those walls of yours, Scully. Let me in."
It took me a moment before I realized he had my hand in his own. I guess I didn't notice at first because it felt so natural, and besides, it wasn't like it'd never happened before. This time was different somehow, though. I felt something I don't think I'd ever felt before. Or at least something I'd never allowed myself to feel before…
"Mulder, do you ever sit back and take a look at your life, and wonder where it went astray? Do you ever feel like you've made some bad decisions along the way, that have prevented you from achieving the things you were truly meant to achieve?"
"Sure, I think it's human nature to have regrets about the path we've chosen in our lives," he replied.
I sighed. "Do you ever wish you hadn't gotten so involved in work, and taken more time to find… well, to devote to your personal life?"
He smiled. "What, you were going to say to find love? I think it's a hard thing, Scully, to find that perfect someone. Sometimes I think people can be so blind that that person is right there, and they spend their lifetime with them, but not in the capacity that they should have. You know, like a guy goes to the same coffee shop every morning for a coffee and a perusal of the newspaper. He never married, and it's because the woman who gives him his large black with one sugar and his carrot bran muffin with butter on the side was the woman he should have woken up with every morning… Not only is it human nature to have regrets, but it's also pretty human to miss the obvious, to close your mind to the possibilities of what could be." He gave a half smile as he paused. "I guess that doesn't really answer your question, though, does it?"
My heart was racing. "No, Mulder, I think it answers my question just perfectly."
"What are your regrets, Scully?"
"That I abandoned the dreams I had as a little girl without so much as a second thought. That I've practically given up on the thought that I could ever be any more to anyone than a daughter, a friend, a colleague. That I never took the time to stop and consider what I would do with myself if I didn't have my work driving me through to the next day." I tried to swallow back the lump that was rapidly forming in my throat. "That I allow you to tear down the walls around my heart and to see me when I'm most vulnerable…"
His hand was on my cheek…
"Scully, why do you regret that? I think it's one of the greatest gifts you can give me. You don't need to hide from me, I wish you'd open your eyes, open your heart, and see that."
I wiped at my eyes so as not to allow the tears brimming there to fall. "I'm sorry, I'm just feeling sorry for myself. You should go."
"No, dammit, Scully, I'm not leaving. Not until you make me understand why you're hurting."
Silence. Deafening silence.
"Goddamn it, Scully, talk to me!" he shouted.
"I'm hurting because I've closed my mind to what my heart has been feeling!" I yelled, the force of my voice surprising the both of us. "I spend more time with you than most women get to spend with their husbands, the ones they choose to spend their lives with! They only difference is that after six years, most women look forward to the time they spend apart from the men in their lives - but I'm not like most women! Look at me… A day and a half goes by that I'm not with you, and I call you with some lame air conditioning excuse to get you over to my apartment!" By then my tears were falling freely.
Mulder got that cocky look on his face, the one that equally pisses me off and yet endears him to me at the same time.
"So it was just an excuse, huh?" he said. "You know, you could've just invited me over… I still would've come."
"Why do you have to make a joke out of everything, Mulder?" I said, my voice still elevated. "This is not a joke! This is my heart…" I said, my voice cracking, "…this is my life. I don't see how you can make jokes about what's going on in my heart…"
He sighed. "I love your heart, Scully," he whispered. "I love that it feels so much, so passionately, and yet it always bows to what's going on in your head. I love your conviction, and how you can be so confident and self-assured most times but then so insecure at others… Like now."
I brushed the tears from my cheeks and tucked my hair behind my ears. I finally, for the first time since the conversation began, looked directly into his eyes. The tenderness I saw there almost melted any self-control and pride I had left. It seemed like an eternity before either of us spoke again.
"Tell me what you're afraid of."
He spoke confidently and evenly, as if bracing himself for what he expected to hear.
"You," I whispered. "I'm so afraid of you, Mulder, and all of the things you make me feel."
He cupped my face in his hands. "Why on earth are you afraid of me? Don't you know that the last thing in the world I would ever do is hurt you? Don't you know," he wiped away the fresh tears that had fallen onto my cheeks with my last statement, "that you are absolutely the most important thing in my life? You, Scully, you are my life. I thought you knew that…"
All I could do was nod. For someone usually so articulate, I had no words now. While I had sort of suspected all of the things Mulder had just said to me, hearing him say the words was a totally different thing altogether. I could not formulate a coherent sentence to respond with.
Only one thing seemed right, only one response felt worthy after the honesty he had just showered me with.
I kissed him.
It was a slow, uncertain kiss at first. I think I'd taken both of us by surprise with my forthrightness, so it was a little hard to gauge how to proceed. And when I tried to pull back, he gently, yet forcefully, grabbed my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. I felt his lips part, and his tongue worked its way into my mouth, slowly, gently exploring.
I couldn't believe this was happening. A few times in our partnership our feelings almost surfaced to this point, the closest we ever came being last summer when I faced reassignment to Salt Lake City. I'd gone to his apartment to break the news in person, and when I tried to explain that it was for the best, that I'd only ever held him back, he set me straight. He'd told me then that I'd kept him honest. And we came within millimeters of kissing then - and if it hadn't have been for that damn bee, perhaps the past year would have transpired differently.
But all that didn't matter now. I hadn't gone to Salt Lake City, and I'd remained in DC, working with him on the X-Files. And our bond grows stronger every day… as evidenced by the here and now.
There's nothing quite like the feeling of Fox Mulder's hands on your body. He has strong hands that, like his voice, have a calming effect - and as he gently rubbed my back as we kissed passionately, I began to feel as though I would melt into a puddle at his feet.
It's funny how you can go from feeling as though you're having one of your darkest days ever, to feeling as though you've come home for the first time in your life, all within a few hours.
That's what Mulder is to me. He's my home. For as cliché as it sounds, it's true - Mulder is the one who provides me warmth, comfort, refuge from the rigors of life…
They say home is where the heart is. And on this day, I can say without fear that my heart is with Mulder. It always has been, and I know that it always will be.
His love is my sanctuary… his heart is my home.
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