First November

AUTHOR: bcfan
FEEDBACK: bcfan@shaw.ca
CATEGORY: cliche fic redux
CLASSIFICATION: MSR
Notes at the end.
SUMMARY: Scully remembers.

A tear meandered gently down Dana Scully's powdery wrinkled cheek. Wednesday was visitor's day at the FBI Special Agent Official Rest Home - but she had no one left to visit her. She'd outlived them all. That damned Clyde Bruckman had been right.

Sitting in a quiet corner of the common room, Scully started to nod off. A sudden noise, and she grabbed her journal as it tried to slide off her lap.

"Are you feeling all right, Dana?"

A sigh. She was Scully, dammit. But she knew better than to complain - again - about the nursing staff's lack of courtesy. This was the end of the twenty-first century, and last names were almost obsolete. She looked up.

"Yes Miss Ellie, I'm just peachy. Are visiting hours over yet? I'd like to go back to my room."

Scully reached for her cane, but the nurse's calloused hand on her shoulder kept her seated.

"Dana," the nurse chided. "I've told you before, call me Ellie. And what's this I hear about you skipping meals? You left the lunchroom without eating."

"It was tofu turkey day, Ellie." Scully shook her head, felt the beginnings of a bittersweet smile. "Memories."

"Care to share?"

When Scully hesitated, Ellie slid eagerly into the next seat and leaned forward.

Scully considered the dowdy middle-aged woman in front of her. Ellie wasn't a bad sort, she knew - just somewhat naive and seemingly devoid of life's experiences. The reasons for her closely guarded privacy were becoming less clear with each passing decade. However - no need to tell all. Perhaps just one of the first and fondest.

She opened her journal near the front, warned, "I won't be reading this in your blog tomorrow, will I?"

"Oh no, Dana, I promise." Ellie's sincerity was patent.

Scully gathered her thoughts.

***

November 1993

Dana Scully twirled in her ice blue gown, giddy with anticipation. A new dress, a yummy new partner (although she pretended not to notice), and her very first FBI Ball - life couldn't get much better.

Scully had the sneaking suspicion that the only reason Mulder invited her to the event was because the ball was obligatory, but she didn't let it dampen her spirits. In fact, the ball's command attendance was a good excuse for Ethan, who'd been complaining more and more about her lack of free time. If she were honest with herself, Ethan occupied fewer of her personal thoughts each day.

She look a deep breath at the knock on her apartment door, smoothed down her dress with nervous hands, and opened it to a stunning sight.

Mulder stood tall, smiling faintly with a corsage in one hand, wearing a form-fitting tux like he'd been born to royalty.

"Ready, Scully?" He stared at her frock.

Scully grinned. "You like?" She twirled again, pleased with his reaction. Perhaps I should start dressing a little more stylishly at work, she considered. Lose the red checked suit and buy something black.

"Very much." Mulder waved his hand vaguely. "Your hair looks different, too. And those shoes - wow."

"Thanks for the compliment, Mulder. You look very nice yourself. New tux?"

"No, I bought one since I have to go to these events every year." Mulder leaned in, and carefully pinned the white orchid to the strap of Scully's dress. "I've never had such a pretty date before though."

"Why, thank you." Scully couldn't stop her question, the burn of curiosity was too much to contain. "Who did you take last year?"

"Henderson from the lab. Nice woman. Graphology expert. I've got a taxi - parking is hell."

Scully walked sedately with Mulder to the waiting taxi, but felt as if her insides had been struck with a tuning fork. She swallowed with nervous anticipation. Her previous life as a medical student had left little time for gala events.

As the taxi approached the Grand Hotel Ballroom, Mulder slipped one of his hands into hers, turning her palm over. He traced her lifeline with a gentle finger. Scully licked her lips, nervous, senses attuned to his touch.

"Scully," he murmured, "I-I feel like I should warn you about something."

"What?"

His expression was wry. "I'm not the most popular guy at the FBI. Last year Kennedy 'accidentally' spilled his drink on my pants, and of course there's always Spooky jokes. You sure you're up for this?"

"Are you serious, Mulder?"

He shrugged.

Scully stared at Mulder's expressionless face. Expressionless, that is, except for the eyes. Scully read anger and sadness and affection in their hazel depths.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else." She gave his hand a squeeze, and a smile ghosted his features.

They walked arm in arm up the steps. The evening of the gala event was bell-weather clear, moon and stars so bright they felt close enough to touch. The crisp November evening was in marked contrast to the overheated interior, and Mulder gathered their coats for check-in.

Mulder guided her to the crowded bar, his large hand warming her lower back. I could get used to this, Scully thought.

"Red or white?"

"A merlot, please."

Mulder held up two fingers and gestured towards the bottle. The bartender exchanged money for drinks and they both wandered to the edge of the crowd, sipping their wine and watching the dancers. It's nice just to socialize without the pressure of small talk, Scully considered. We're comfortable together. Not like Ethan and his pushy -

"Hey Spooky." A florid-faced detective stepped forward. "Found any aliens yet?"

"Hi Kennedy."

"Yes," Scully replied evenly, "It is spooky how Mulder solved the Tooms case, isn't it? I'd say it took some brilliant detective work. And a solution your team never thought of."

Kennedy's mouth dropped open and Scully swallowed the last of her wine. "C'mon, Mulder. Let's dance."

Mulder set his glass down and escorted her to the dance floor, holding her in a loose embrace. She felt him chuckle.

"I'm bringing you to every social event, Scully. Kennedy didn't know what hit him."

Scully shrugged. "I'm just being honest, Mulder."

"I like how you think, G-woman."

The music changed to a slow waltz. Mulder bent slightly to Scully's ear. "C'mon, m'dear, they're playing our song."

Scully breathed in the clean masculine smell of Mulder, a spicy scent that seemed to permeate his clothes. He guided her across the floor - Scully felt as if she were floating in his arms. The room narrowed to the man in front of her, and she relaxed into their embrace. It should never have worked - lanky and tall, short and slender - but they fit together as naturally as puzzle pieces. We create our own puzzle, Scully realized. One we can solve ourselves.

The rest of the evening was a haze of sensation. Dancing, more drinks, a few nibblies from the snack bar - Scully felt a rare emotion. Joy. She knew herself to be living for the moment, and the moment was sweeter than wine. She was determined to drink her fill.

They were quiet, smiling, when Scully felt a tap on her arm. She turned and saw Holly with a camera in her hand.

"Would you two like a photo?"

"What do you think, Mulder?"

"Thank you, Holly, I'd love to have a picture of the belle of the ball."

Scully felt her cheeks redden. Mulder tucked her under his shoulder as they faced the camera. Both noticed the thinning crowd at the same moment.

"Time to call it a night, Scully?"

She sighed. She wanted more - more of everything, more of Mulder - and hope caught in her throat. Scully blurted, "Will you come back to my apartment for another drink?"

Mulder's delighted grin turned to irritation as his cell phone rang. He held up his hand. "Mulder."

Scully bit her lip, vexed. Mulder stepped away slightly, turned and hunched over the phone. She heard his voice go from frustration to fascination as the caller spoke at length on the other end of the line.

"Okay, I'll be there." Mulder snapped the end of the cell shut and stuck it in his pocket.

"Scully, something big is happening, and I've got to get there right away before it disappears. Are you up for a trip to Townshend, Wisconsin tonight?" His eyes were alight with eagerness.

Scully put on her game face, tucked her disappointment down deep.

"FBI business, Mulder?"

"In a way."

"In which way? We can fill out the forms and both head there tomorrow." She would not beg. She would not.

"Sorry, Scully. I've gotta go. But the night was wonderful. Thank you."

Mulder escorted her to the taxi, and as Scully pulled away she saw in the window's reflection that he was waving. She did not wave back.

***

"Oh." Ellie's disappointed sigh filled the corner of the room. "I thought you were going to tell me a happy story."

"I had a wonderful time at the ball, and it was a happy story - eventually. But first Mulder had to learn to stop ditching me."

"How long did that take?"

"A few years." Scully caressed the journal with her hands. "But along the way Mulder helped me develop an important philosophy, Ellie - good things are worth the wait."

"And the man in the photo next to your bed is?"

"Yes." Scully nodded. "Mulder, wearing his tux at the FBI ball."

"Oh my. I've always wondered." Ellie stood. "Thanks for the story, Dana, and you're right - he was worth the wait."

Scully nodded. He was indeed.