by Mary Kleinsmith (Buc252@aol.com)

Category: Song Fic. UST

Spoilers: Fight the Future

Summary: Sometimes music can say more than mere words

Archive: Yes. Posted previously to MTA

Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and everything related to them belong to Chris Carter and 10-13, with magic added by David and Gillian. I'm only borrowing them.

Part of the Whole

by Mary Kleinsmith - Buc252@aol.com

"If I quit now, they win." He couldn't believe she was standing in front of him saying this. He'd given her what he suspected she'd always wanted - he let her off the hook. His voice had been tremulous as he told her to go be a doctor, and he meant it. He just didn't have it in him to see her hurt again.

She took his hand briefly as they headed back to the Hoover building; brief, yet long enough to warm him from the inside out. He didn't know if they'd ever get to the point where he'd try to kiss her again - he'd learned his lesson. But just being close was comforting.

"Scully, where are we going?" he said, realizing their direction.

"Back to work, of course," she said, smiling.

"Our work isn't there anymore, did you forget? They burned it to the ground along with every X-File they could lay their hands on." Mulder's heart cringed as he said the words aloud once again. He felt like he'd lost his best friend. Well, maybe his second best friend, he thought, taking her hand again.

"Our work is there, Mulder. And we have to organize our office." He looked at her, puzzled, as her grin grew wider. "Oh, did I forget to show you this?" From her suit pocket she pulled a folded piece of letterhead, that, when opened, began with the simple memorandum heading:

To: Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner

From: Assistant Director Jana Cassidy

Subject: Duty Assignments of SA Mulder and SA Scully

His curiosity peaked, Mulder read on.

After careful consideration by the OPR, a decision has been made regarding the placement of Special Agent Fox W. Mulder and Special Agent Dana K. Scully within the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Mulder stopped, biting on his upper lip as he looked into Scully's eyes. All the talk of neither of them quitting may be a moot point if OPR deemed them unfit to continue as partners. "How did you get this?"

Scully nodded toward the paper. "Keep reading."

It is the summary decision by the Office of Professional Review that the FBI is currently in need of a team of investigators with Agent Mulder and Agent Scully's particular expertise, and is therefore canceling all previous assignments and placing them both in the X-Files division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, working out of the J Edgar Hoover Building with offices where their conduct can be overseen by you. It has been determined that these agents, despite their divergence from the bureau mainstream, are salvageable as long as they are kept together.

Please see to having them assigned a new office area and whatever they need to return to the routine to which they had been accustomed before the unfortunate fire in the previous X-Files offices.

Mulder reread the memo again, a smile growing on his face, until he read the handwritten portion below the final paragraph.

Congratulations, Agents. Welcome back! - AD Skinner

He was incredulous. "Is this true?"

"It sure is!" Scully affirmed excitedly. "Skinner gave me that himself, right before he told me where our new office is."

Mulder let out an uncharacteristic whoop before lifting his partner, spinning her around before planting her back on her small pumps. She seemed slightly dizzy, but just as giddy with happiness as per best friend. "C'mon, Mulder. Let's go see our new home."

*************************

Except for an inordinately long visit to the lady's room by Scully, the agents spent the entire afternoon settling into their new office. This time, Skinner had made sure both Mulder and Scully's names were on the door, and desks for each of them sat face to face in the center. Once they'd laid in supplies, Scully tried out their new, state-of-the-art computer while Mulder began the arduous task of using his eidetic memory to reconstruct as many and as much of the burned X-Files as he could.

When the sun hadn't shone through their window for some time (yes, they had a window!), Scully said, "I don't know about you, Mulder, but for me, it's been a long day and I'm exhausted. I'm heading home."

He was a little disappointed, as he'd hoped they might get a bite to eat together, but if she was too tired, that was understandable. She'd been through so much lately, and he wasn't about to risk her health. "Okay, I'm just going to finish this last file and I'll lock up."

"Promise me you're not going to stay all night," Scully said. "It takes a lot longer than just five days for a cranial gunshot wound to heal, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Mulder had to laugh. "You sound like my mother."

"Wrong, Mulder," she responded, laughing, as she departed. "I sound like my mother!"

Once she was gone, he admitted to himself that his head was indeed beginning to pound, and there really was no reason not to finish this up tomorrow. They had many tomorrows now, thank God.

In the FBI parking garage, Mulder unlocked his car and climbed behind the wheel before he noticed a greeting-card sized envelope sitting on his steering wheel. "Wonder how that got here?" he questioned, fearing another surprise appearance by Phoebe. Tapes were more her style, though, so he opened the envelope and pulled out the card, almost dropping the unmarked CD that was closed inside. He lay it on his leg as he read the handwriting - unmistakably Scully's.

I know Glen Frey isn't really your norm, but this says it better than I ever could.

Love, Scully

"Well, that's cryptic," he thought aloud, sliding the disk into the car's CD player and starting the engine. The first strains of the song began before he could put the car into gear.

"I felt it when the sun came up this morning

I knew I could not wait another day

Darlin' there is something I must tell you

Distant voices calling me away"

Oh, my God. She's leaving after all. Or she's sick again. Please, I can't do this again.

All this flashed through his mind in an instant, to be negated a moment later as the song continued.

"Till we find a bridge across forever

until this grand illusion brings us home

you and I will always be together

from this day on you'll never walk alone

Never alone again. . .?

"You're a part of me, I'm a part of you

wherever we may travel, whatever we go through.

Whatever time may take away

We cannot change the way we feel today

So hold me close and say you feel it too

You're part of me, and I am part of you

He sat back to enjoy the words, liking the song more and more as it progressed. It said exactly what his heart had needed to hear for a very long time.

I can hear it when I stand beside the river .

I can see it when I look up in the sky

I can feel it when I hear that lonesome highway

So many miles to go before I die

We can never know about tomorrow

And still we have to choose which way to go

You and I are standing at the crossroads

Darlin' there is one thing you should know

You're a part of me, I'm a part of you

wherever we may travel, whatever we go through

Whatever time may take away

We cannot change the way we feel today

So hold me close and say you feel it too

You're part of me, and I am part of you

The lyrics painted pictures of so many events in their shared lives, but most strongly of these last few days. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking in the rest.

I look at you, your whole life stands before you

I look at me and I'm running out of time

Time has brought us here to share these moments

to look for something we may never find

'til we find a bridge across forever

Until this grand illusion brings us home

You and I will always be together

From this day on you'll never walk alone

You're a part of me, I'm a part of you

wherever we may travel, whatever we go through

Whatever time may take away

We cannot change the way we feel today

So hold me close and say you feel it too

You're part of me, and I am part of you

By the closing strains, there were tears on Mulder's eyelashes, threatening to fall down the still-wind-chapped cheeks. Scully was right - it had been perfect. His heart constricted as he thought her name, saw her smiling face against the insides of his closed eyelids. He sniffled as he rubbed them, then shoved the car into drive, steering in the direction of Georgetown.

So many times in his life he'd felt totally alone. There was just him, never a "Fox and soandso." Even Phoebe and Diana hadn't been so close to him. They hadn't had their names said in the same breath with his, nor had their images come to people's minds when they thought of him. Scully . . . Dana . . . did all these things. They truly were part of each other, unlike any friends or lovers in his experience. He literally couldn't think of his life without her, and the idea of her promising not to leave him alone ever again made his heart leap.

Mulder didn't notice whether her lights were off or on as he raced up the sidewalk through the front door of her building, climbing the stairs three at a time in his haste and trying to figure out what he was going to say when he got to her door. Something would come to him, he figured as he rapped his knuckles against the wood.

Her hair was wet and she was draped in a long terrycloth robe when he opened the door, but his mind focused on none of that. It was Scully, no matter how she looked. Before she could ask what he was doing there, she was wrapped in his strong arms, his whispered benediction of "I do . . I do feel it . . . I do . . . thank you . . ." repeating over and over in her ear.

"Mulder, I'm wet," Scully commented, noticing the dark spots on the front of his suit.

"I don't care," he replied, not letting go as he led her to the couch. They sat down and he tightened his embrace once again, where there was warmth, comfort, and love. Giving up on what her hair would look like in the morning in favor of the wonderful feeling being held was generating in her, she returned the hug, feeling him settle his head on her shoulder. They were still locked in that position as the first beams of sunlight graced the windowpanes the next morning, having both slept better than they could ever remember.

Thanks to Glenn Frey for the song Part of Me, Part of You