***DISCLAIMER***: All "X-Files" elements and references
in this story belong to Fox Broadcasting, Chris Carter,
and 1013 Productions, and I am making no money from it.
"Alone" belongs to Sony/ATV Tunes, et al.

ARCHIVING: Link only, please!

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Hearts Alone
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Vignette, Angst, Mulder/Scully UST

Rated PG

Spoilers through "Emily"

Summary: Mulder ditches Scully again, but this time he brings
back a precious gift.


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Hearts Alone
by shannono


Dana Scully's apartment
1:20 a.m.

Dana Scully shifted again in her bed, shoving her pillows around,
trying to find a comfortable position. She lay still a few
minutes, wrestled with the pillows and covers again, lay still
again ...

She finally sighed and sat up. It was no use. She just could not
sleep. And she knew why.

The message had been on her machine when she came in from dinner
at her mom's house the night before. "Scully, it's me. I had to
go out of town, probably for a couple of days, but don't worry,
I'll be fine. I'll check in as soon as I can."

Oh, great, she'd thought. Ditched again.

After six years, she should be used to this from Mulder. He'd find
some new lead on his sister, or get information on a new case, and
he'd run off, without her. At least this time he'd called. Usually,
he just disappeared, only to show up at work a few days later,
acting like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Or he's show up on her doorstep, or in a hospital somewhere. With
some exotic illness.

Or worse.

She shook her head to dispel the thought and shoved herself to her
feet. Time to fall back on the old standby of warm milk. Yuck. Cold
milk, fine. Warm milk in cocoa, even better. But plain old warm
milk just was not on her list of favorite things.

It did, however, help her sleep. Usually. Somehow, she didn't think
that would be the case tonight.

She padded through the living room, idly hitting the CD player's
"on" and "random" switches as she passed by. She couldn't even
remember which CDs she'd left in, but a power ballad of some kind
was the first thing she heard. The male singer sounded like he was
in pain as he growled out the lyrics, and Scully grimaced as she
flipped on the kitchen light and started gathering a mug and the
milk. Hope the next song's better than *that*, she thought.

She filled the mug halfway and stuck it in the microwave, setting
it for a minute. As she waited, she was relieved to hear the final
notes of the song fading off, replaced by the soft opening piano
chords of a familiar tune. She thought for a moment, trying to
recall the singer, and almost jumped as the microwave bell sounded.

She pulled out the mug and crossed back into the living room,
hearing the lyrics start up as she entered:

>>I hear the ticking of the clock,
I'm lying here the room's pitch dark.
I wonder where you are tonight,
No answer on the telephone.<<

Scully froze in the middle of the floor. Heart. "Alone." "How
appropriate," she muttered, moving again, sinking down on one end
of the couch and pulling her legs up under her. She lowered her
head onto the back of the sofa and closed her eyes.

>>And the night goes by so very slow.
Oh, I hope that it won't end though,
Alone.

Till now, I always got by on my own.
I never really cared until I met you.
And now it chills me to the bone.
How do I get you alone?
How do I get you alone?<<

Scully grimaced slightly. Wonder what Mulder would say if I said
that to him? she thought. She'd wanted to do something like that
for a while now, but her conscience and her pride wouldn't let
her. Her conscience, because they were partners, and she felt a
responsibility to make sure their relationship stayed on that
level. Her pride, because she was afraid he wouldn't feel the
same way.

She remembered the next verse before it started and blushed
slightly as the words poured from the speakers:

>>You don't know how long I have wanted
To touch your lips and hold you tight.
You don't know how long I have waited,
And I was gonna tell you tonight.

But the secret is still my own,
And my love for you is still unknown,
Alone.<<

For a fleeting moment, Scully hoped fervently that Mulder
*wouldn't* choose that moment to make an appearance at her
door. She was tired and worried, and that was a dangerous
combination. Throw Mulder into the mix, and her feelings
wouldn't stay unknown for long.

Scully finished off her milk, making a face, then headed into
the kitchen to rinse out the mug. The song's final lines
resounded through her head as she worked: "How do I get you
alone? How do I get you alone?"

"Sure wish I knew," she said aloud, parking the mug in the
top rack of the dishwasher and sliding it shut. She turned,
and jumped.

He was there. In her living room. Staring at her.

Her mind ran quickly over her state of dress. She hadn't
bothered to put on her robe, so she was wearing bright blue
silk short pajamas. Not too short, luckily. With her petite
stature, the tap pants fell halfway to her knees. And the top
was short sleeved with buttons up the front and loose enough
to be modest. No reason to be worried, then, she thought.

She relaxed slightly, then tensed again as she started walking
toward him, her eyes roaming him for blood, bruises, or other
signs of injuries. By the time she was within a foot of him,
she had seen only a relatively small bruise under one eye.
Stopping in front of him, she looked up at him. He still hadn't
spoken, so she did: "Mulder, are you okay?"

He nodded, but didn't stop staring at her. Uncomfortable under
his scrutiny, Scully resorted to professionalism. "Sit down,
Mulder, and let me get some ice for that bruise," she said in
her best "Dr. Scully" voice. She turned to go back into the
kitchen, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Stay." It was one simple word, but the emotion in his voice
spoke volumes.

She looked at his hand on her arm, his rough thumb caressing
the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist, and she felt a
shiver go through her. Stepping to one side, she managed to
extract her hand and waved it toward the couch. "Sit, Mulder.
Please. I'll sit with you."

They sat, Scully again pulling her legs up under her. She could
hear the music still playing but ignored it, concentrating
instead on Mulder.

He sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands
gripped between them. He didn't speak for a long time, and
Scully was about to ask him where he'd been when he shifted to
face her.

"Scully," he started, then paused again, his eyes roaming her
face. "*Dana* -- "

Warning bells started going off in her head. When he called her
by her *first* name, something was definitely up. She leaned
forward. "Mulder ..."

"No, I need to say this," he said, and she subsided, waiting.
"Dana, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you where I was," he said.
"But I had to try this, and I didn't want you to know because ...
well, I didn't want to get your hopes up."

Now he had her *full* attention. "Mulder?" she said. "What ..."

"I took them," he said, in answer to the question she hadn't
known to ask. "When you were in the hospital in Allentown.
When I went to that fertility clinic. That's how I found out
they'd harvested your ova. I saw them, Dana. The vials. Your
ova. All of them."

She stared in shock, her mouth hanging slightly open and a
crease forming across the skin just above the bridge of her
nose. She couldn't speak, much as she couldn't in that hearing
before the judge in San Diego when he'd finally revealed her
ova had been taken.

It didn't matter. He kept talking.

"I took them, Dana. Well, part of them," he qualified his
statement. "I took one of the vials. I had it in my pocket at
the hospital, the night ... when Penny Northern died. I should
have told you then, but I couldn't You were so sick, from the
treatments, and so sad, because of Penny. I couldn't tell you
then."

Suddenly the reality of the situation hit Scully. "You *took*
them?" she nearly shouted, visibly pulling back from him. "You
mean you *killed* them! You let them thaw out! They're dead!"

Horror and pain flashed across Mulder's face at her words, and
she immediately calmed. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said in a
shaky voice, relaxing a bit. "I know you didn't mean to ..."

"No, I deserve it," he interrupted. "It was stupid of me. I
wasn't thinking straight that week. I thought I could ... well,
I don't know what I thought."

He lapsed into silence as she watched him. She knew that wasn't
all he had to say, so she waited for him to gather up the courage
to go on.

Finally, he took a shaky breath and spoke again. "That's what
I've been doing, Scully. The last few times I've gone off
without telling you where. I wasn't trying to ditch you; that's
why I told you when I was going. But it was my debt to repay,
and I had to do it."

He looked up to find her still watching him, the questions back
on her face. He moved toward her, reached for her hands and sat
looking at them for a moment. Then he said, softly, "I found
them, Dana. The rest of your ova. That's where I've been. I
found them, and I had them placed in a very secure place for
you. I had them tested, and at least several hundred are still
viable."

She sucked in her breath sharply as her heart pounded against
her ribcage. Her ova. Her chance for children.

He'd given it back to her.

Slowly, Mulder gathered up the courage to raise his eyes to her
face and was surprised to see the tears streaming down her
cheeks. He lifted one hand to wipe them away, and she grabbed
his hand and held it against her face, closing her eyes as she
nuzzled into his palm. "Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you."

Mulder slid across the sofa to her and gathered her into his arms,
as naturally as if he'd done it every day of his life. It felt as
if he had, to both of them.

"It was the least I could do," he whispered. "I owe you my life.
I had to get yours back for you."

He held her for a long time as she cried, this time tears of joy.
His own tears fell to mix with her own, washing away his guilt 
and pain at her broken dreams, dreams he had restored.

Suddenly she didn't feel so alone anymore.

==========END==========