Title: Out of The Ashes Author: Mummiehelen Rating: NC-17 E-Mail: Gstrav@yahoo.com Love to hear from ya! Category: SK/O (Maggie) romance Archive: OK Disclaimer: They belong to CC and Fox but, they're not using them right now so I borrowed them. Summary: Dana Scully gets killed after obtaining information damming to the "Syndicate". Spoilers: Paperclip Note: This is for Michelle who gave me the idea. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX March 23rd I had just come from the morgue. Jesus, it was hard having to be the one who identified her body. She looked so small on the stainless steel table. How ironic to see her like this. She, who had performed so many autopsies. Now it was she who would be.......... I couldn't bare to think about it. I had to go upstairs and tell Mrs. Scully. She was also injured by the drive- by that took her daughter's life. I don't know any more than that right now. In fact, I'll have to question her---if she's able. I'm glad the elevator's slow. It gives me time to think. How am I going to tell her about Dana? She's already lost so much. Now I find myself walking toward her hospital room.The hallway's crowded with police who are also waiting to question her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I had been hit in the eyes by flying debris. Brick,glass and steel fragments that moments earlier had been part of my house, have been removed in surgery and now thick pads covered my eyes.I have other injuries, I just can't feel them right now because of all the drugs they've given me but, I'm lucid enough to know he's in the room I feel his presence before he speaks. "Mrs. Scully?" he asks, slipping his hand into mine. I'm soothed by its warmth. "She's dead, isn't she." It's a statement...not a question. "Yes." he answers. He voice is cracking and I wonder if it's because he's been crying or because he's trying not to. "I knew the instant it happened." "Do you feel up to talking about it?" "I have to. I know the sooner you get the information, the better your chances of catching them, right?" He questions me about the events of earlier this evening.He keeps his hand in mine the whole time. I tighten my hold on it in moments of stress, it helps me get through this ordeal. When he's finally done I ask if the police will also have to talk to me. "No. I'll take care of them."he says and starts to pull his hand away. I instinctively tighten my hold. I don't want to lose the comfort of his touch. "Is there anything I can get you?" he asks. I know it's his exit line. He has what he came for and wants to get out of here. I can't blame him, hospitals are depressing places but, I want him to stay. I want his warmth and the soothing sound of his voice. I've never felt so lost or alone but, that's neither his fault nor his responsibility and I release his hand with a polite "No thank you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I felt awful having to question her when she was obviously traumatized. She'd just lost her daughter and her home. She'll be put up in a safe house after her release till we catch those responsible. At least I know she'll be safe there. I think about the last time I saw her. It was also in a hospital room. Her other daughter had been shot and she was keeping vigil. I had only stayed a moment. I set off after a suspicious looking man who kept peering into the room. I followed him and got ambushed by Alex Krycek and Luis Cardinale who stole the digital tape I was carrying. I went home that night tired, dejected and injured It was the night Sharon asked for a divorce. I was too distraught to even argue. Why did she have to pick tonight of all nights? Couldn't she see my bleeding hand and the cuts on my face? Didn't she realize how much I needed her tonight? I laughed a bitter laugh, she probably needed me more nights in the last seventeen years than I can count. I went to the guest bedroom and undressed.That's when I noticed my left side was one massive black and blue mark. Krycek really did a number on me---while Cardinale held me and the other guy tried to choke me with a piano wire. I went to the kitchen to get ice to make a pack for it. She was there. I think it was the first time she noticed my injuries and came over to me---too late. She reached for me, I sidestepped her and told her I'd be out of the house tomorrow. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I was released from the hospital nine days ago. While I was there, Bill Jr. and his wife Tara came to see me. Although my eyes were still bandaged, I could hear the disdain in his voice for the fact that Dana had died as a result of her job. He had always considered her career choice inappropriate. Dana tried to please her brother but, on this point she was firm. She never could get him to understand. She worked hard for approval from the men important to her. Her father ,her older brother and I suppose, her boss. I haven't heard from Mr. Skinner since he questioned me in the hospital and I guess there's no reason for him to get in touch. I thought when I came to the safehouse though I might get the chance to talk to him--at least to find out how long I'll have to be a "guest" of the government. I started exercising to the early morning programs put on by the sports network. Once I learned the routines, I repeat them in the afternoon just to keep from going stir crazy. Sometimes I look longingly out the window at the beautifully kept grounds and yearn to be outside. I'd love to get a closer look at the plantings. Usually at this time of year I'd be planning my garden and cruising the nurseries for materials. Then I remember I don't have a home any more and I have no idea where I'll end up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I had the District Attorney in my office today for round one of arguments about how to proceed with the case. He wants Mrs. Scully to testify, I don't want to put her through that. "We have the suspects. She may be able to identify them." he said. "I questioned her myself. She didn't see anything! Don't you think I did my job ?" I shouted. "No but, you can never tell what she might remember after the fact." he argued. And so it went on like that for most of the afternoon. Eventually, I tuned him out, thinking of bad rag sheet headlines like " DA and AD slug it out at FBI Headquarters" He finally finished his tirade and left. I looked over my notes from when I talked to Mrs. Scully. She said Dana had called her about 5:30 PM and said she was coming right over because she had information about the syndicate that she and Mulder had been trying to prove the existence of for years. I'd asked if Dana was carrying a brief case or a purse. She said no Dana seldom carried a bag which is why she always made sure her suit jackets had real pockets, not just flaps. I practically flew to the Evidence Lockup. The clothes she was wearing were still in a sealed bag. I took out the jacket and checked the pockets--nothing! Then I squeezed the garment starting from the top. I soon felt something hard. I checked the lining and found an inner pocket. Inside was a gold powder compact--not the kind of item one would usually hide. I fumbled it open with fingers trembling in anticipation. I don't know what I expected but it was just a mirror, puff and makeup pan . Then I noticed it was the refillable kind and lifted the mesh screen that filtered the loose powder and there it was. I sat back and chuckled, it was truly a "compact" disk. Very clever Scully! I brought it back to my office and slipped it into my computer. It was unreadable and I realized it was encrypted so I took it to the Gunman. The Following Day The three suspects were arraigned today. They'll be held without bond and the trial will be in three weeks. Now I can go to the safehouse where Mrs. Scully's staying and bring her good news. When I get there, I'm greeted with a melancholy sight. She answers my knock by calling"Come in." I find her staring out the window at the rainy, blustery afternoon. I ask how she's been and she tells me she's feeling a little cooped up. "You mean no one told you, you could walk the grounds?" I asked incredulously. "No. Hardly anyone's spoken to me at all." she replied. "I'm very sorry for this misunderstanding." I said. "What's happening?" After I explained what had transpired, she asked if she was free to go. When I answered in the affirmative she said she'd be ready in ten minutes. I tried to talk her out of going back to her house, explaining she was welcome to stay at the safehouse as long as she liked. "Thank you but I really need to get on with my life and I can't do it cooped up here." "Where will you go?" I ask. "Well... that's one of the things I have to figure out." I feel a sense of dread as we pull up in front of the remains of her house. It's the first time she's seen the extent of the damage. I follow her eyes as she surveys the scene. The shooters fired at the garage and hit her car's gas tank blowing up that half of the house and damaging the foundation beyond repair. Machine gun fire destroyed the bay window and most of the interior of her living room where she was found pressed into the wall with her daughter on top of her. Dana had absorbed most of the gunfire and had died instantly. I can only imagine what she must be thinking right now. Memories of happy times in this place shattered by a single event. I'd offer my help but, I feel impotent in the face of such overwhelming sadness. I ask anyway, if there's anything I can do. "No." she answers as I expected. "I need a moment to regroup but, I thank you for all you've done." she says as she walks me to the door. "Are you going to be alright here?" I ask. "I'm not going to stay long." she replies. "Well, if you think of anything, give me a call." I say as I hand her one of my cards. I feel so damned awkward. There's so much I'd like to say yet, I know she wants to be alone. She's propelling me toward the door with the promise that she will if she needs anything. I take the card back and write my home phone number on it" Call anyway......when you get settled somewhere. I'd like to know you're alright." I blurt out as she opens the door. She nods and I leave. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I look around at the wreckage that used to be my home. I walk from room to room surveying the extent of the damage. The front and right side seem to have gotten the worst of it. The back, kitchen and family room were barely touched. I sit at my planning desk in the kitchen and begin making a list of my most immediate needs. I'll have to rent a car and find lodging. An hour later after several calls, I'm waiting for the rental car agency to send someone to pick me up. While I wait I pack a month's clothes and some favorite things to bring to the extended stay residence; a place called Summerhill Suites I've booked for the next thirty days. That should give me enough time to figure what I'm going to do. In the next two weeks I get my belongings packed and stored, have a salvage company come in and take out what they want before the house goes under the wrecking ball. They give me an estimate on all the light fixtures,chandeliers, the marble fireplace mantle, crown moldings, even the switch plate covers. I'm happy with the generous figure they offer.I talk with my insurance agent, lawyer and real estate broker. They're are a million details to see to. Meanwhile I'm also trying to get myself settled in my new abode. The next steps will be to buy a new car and try to figure out what kind of property I want to live in but, first, I should catch up with Mr. Skinner. I promised I'd call when I got settled. I don't know if I ever will *truly* feel settled again. Right now though, I feel like I'm as close as I'll ever get, so I pick up the phone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I was annoyed. It was a Friday night and I was at home doing paperwork from the office instead of enjoying the weekend, when the phone rang. I yanked it off the cradle and answered with a terse "Hello". "Is this a bad time?" her soft voice caressed me, instantly improving my mood. "Mrs.Scully?" "Yes. Should I call back?" she asks. "No. I was just concentrating on something and the phone surprised me. How are you?" "All things considered, not too bad." she replied. "Where are you?" She gave me the name and address of the place she was staying at. "I'm glad you called. I was planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow and I'd rather not go alone. Would you like to come with me?" I asked. "Yes I would. I've only been there once since I left the safehouse." "Good. I'll pick you up at 1:30 and we can have some lunch afterward if you'd like." "Allright, I'll see you then. Goodnight." she said and ended the call. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The weather report says chance of rain this afternoon so I dress accordingly. I had just taken my trenchcoat from the closet when there was a knock at the door. I check my watch, 1:30 on the nose. I slip my coat on before I answer it, when I do his large frame fills the doorway. "Come in." I tell him. "I just have to get my purse." He steps inside. In a moment I'm back with my handbag and we set off for the cemetery. After we enter the grounds I lead him to the plots where my daughters are buried. We walk the short distance from the car in silence. I stop between the headstones. He's very close behind me. Suddenly I feel his hands on my upper arms. He pulls me to him and I rest my head against his chest. I think back to my last visit. I'd bought two large bouquets of the prettiest spring blooms I could find and laid one on each grave, then knelt between them with a hand on each headstone and cried until I had no more tears left. Now I can look at them dry-eyed. Such is not the case for the man behind me. I hear his ragged breath and feel his body wrack with sobs but, he makes no other sound. Time seems suspended but eventually he runs his hands up and down my arms indicating he's done. "Do you want to leave?" I ask not turning around. I sense he doesn't want to talk about what just transpired. Grief is a very private thing and he let me share his to the extent he's capable of. "I'd like to walk a little first." he says. The place is pretty empty for a Saturday. Must be the threatening weather. Sure enough, we'd only walked a short distance when it started to rain lightly. He had an umbrella slung over his shoulder and he opened it over us just as the sky really opened up. He moved closer to me and put his hand at the small of my back. The silence was getting to be uncomfortable. "I've loved the rain ever since I was a little girl." I began." I come from a large Irish-Catholic family. We lived in a bustling Boston neighborhood. The streets were always filled with mothers pushing baby carriages, kids on bikes,trikes or rollerskates. So it seemed I never had a moment's privacy. Except when it rained. Everyone scattered and I had the streets to myself. I think my mom thought I was crazy but I also think she understood. All she did was make me promise to dress properly. So I donned my slicker and rubbers, took my umbrella and headed off. Jumping puddles was fun of course but, just having the chance to think without interruption was better. The best part though was the sound of the rain on the umbrella and my belief that the perimeter underneath it was my own private universe." I finished, hoping he'd respond. "How many kids in your family?" he asked. "Eight." "Where were you?" "Third, and the first girl, so naturally I took care of the five after me." "I was the fifth of six. My sister was the first and she also took care of the rest of us. "I bet we could compare war stories." I laughed. "No doubt." Just then the rain turned into a real thunderstorm. He stopped,and asked if I wanted to leave. "Yes." I replied. "Take me home.......your home." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The Cemetery 2:00 PM I can't believe I heard her right. Did she just ask me to take her to *my* place? I look down at her upturned face but, her _expression is hard to read. I feel very warm suddenly. It's time for a decision. I wrap both arms around her, holding the umbrella over us as best I can. I lower my lips to hers till they meet in a passionate kiss. The outside world falls away as emotions long dormant awaken and swirl through me. I deepen the kiss by forcing my tongue past her lips. She's receptive. Her arms slide around my waist and the kiss softens as our tongues dance an ancient ritual. When we break, I know there are no words to speak and I lead her back to the car. We drive to my condo, park and take the elevator to the 17th floor. Now I'm beginning to have doubts about this. Should I ask her if she's sure this is what she wants? Then I think "Hell, we're not children! She was pretty direct with me and it was *my* decision to follow through." We're here now so why not. I look down and she's unzipping her wet boots. I take off my own shoes and lead her upstairs. Once we're in my bedroom, we waste no time shedding our cloths. I turn back the covers and she crawls in. I join her and we pick up where we left off in the cemetery. I'm lost in the sensation of her surprisingly firm body, enjoying the give and take of foreplay when my mind kicks in and starts asking questions."Why is she doing this? With Me? One of the reasons I was promoted to Assistant Director was my ability to divine people's motives. It was also one of the things I missed most when I was taken from the field and plunked behind a desk. I can't figure hers though and my body keeps screaming at me to stop trying. It wins out and we make urgent love while the rain continued to pelt the windows. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I felt brazen asking him in essence, to fuck me. After all, why else would I want to go back to his place? I'd never been there. I didn't know him, not really but, he *is* the only man I've felt any kind of connection with since Bill died. And I'm too old to be coy. I'm not looking for love, mostly because I think it would be too much to hope for. It's been so long since I felt a man's touch. Our sex life had cooled long before Bill's fatal heart attack. He had never been affectionate or demonstrative. In fact, after the initial passion of our first few years together--after I had four children in rapid succession-- our sex life dwindled down to almost nonexistent. When we did make love I always had to be on top because Bill had developed a pot belly early on and it was uncomfortable for both of us any other way. It's so different with Walter. I feel perfectly at ease beneath him. His waist is positively tiny!! and he holds his upper body on strong forearms while he pumps into me. I feel his pace quicken. As he empties his seed in me, I give him a little "love hug" with my inner muscles. A trick I learned long ago from one of the wives I'd met traveling from one Naval base to another. She said she was always looking for ways to keep her husband interested and when I met him I could see why. He was gorgeous! Women were always after him so Maddy developed an edge that kept him happily in her bed. The "love hug" was just one of her bag of sexual tricks. He rolls off me and pulls me against his chest and starts playing with my hair. "Spend the night with me?" he asks. "No." I say suddenly realizing what I just did. This isn't like me at all. It was a mistake that should have never happened. I jump out of his bed and grab my clothes. I dress awkwardly while hurrying down the stairs. At the door I have to sit on the floor to get into my boots. I'm almost successful in making a clean get-away when I see his bare feet in front of me. "You don't have to leave." he says softly. "Yes I do. I should've never asked......." I trail off realising he's going to blame himself when I'm the only one at fault. "We can talk this through." he continues as though I never said anything. I've never intentionally hurt another person before and I hate that he has to be the first but, he has to understand this was a one-time thing. I pulled myself up to my full height, glared at him and told him there was nothing to talk about, that I got what I wanted and there was no reason for me to see him again. Before he could respond, I was out the door and to the elevator. Once outside I hailed a cab and sat back in the seat, my head pounding but, instead of going back to the apartment, I had the cabbie take me to my church. I pound on the rectory door till the housekeeper--a sour looking woman named Mrs. Muntz-- answers. "I need to speak with Fr. McCue. It's very important." I say breathlessly. She steps back so I can enter. "Sit here." she says bluntly, pointing to a chair. She leaves and a few moments later Fr. McCue enters. "Margaret how wonderful to see you." he exclaims as he holds his hand out to shake mine. "You're not gonna think so for long." I say. "Whyever not?" he asks surprised. I break down then, tears stream down my face. He lifts me and wraps his arms around me protectively. After my initial tirade, I ask if I can make confession. "Of course." he says and sits in a chair turned to the side so I'm not face to face with him. "I'm afraid you're going to lose the anonymity of the confessional." "That's alright." I say as I kneel beside him and begin a ritual I've performed since I was seven. "Bless me father for I have sinned. It's been four weeks since my last confession." I proceeded to tell him every little infraction I committed in the past month. Then I got down to the big ones. "My late husband was the only man I'd ever been with..... till today. That would be bad enough but, afterward I hurt the man in question. It was my idea to sleep with him. I went into it with my eyes wide open." "How did you hurt him?" he asked. "I think he thought there was a future of some sort for us and I said cruel things to make it clear there would be nothing more between us." I said tearfully. He tried to soothe me, explaining I'd been through a lot and that I seemed to be sorry for my sins. Then he gave me my penance and blessed me. I got up to leave and he said I should stop by whenever I needed counsel. I thanked him and pulled out my cell-phone to call a taxi but, he insisted on driving me himself. I let him even though I was in no hurry to get back to the apartment. When I got in, the red blinking light on the phone indicated I had messages. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'd hoped we'd spend the night together. Maybe even the rest of the weekend, so the last thing I expected was Margaret bolting out of my bed. I tried to talk to her, to find out what had suddenly gone so wrong but, her words cut me to the quick. So much so all I could do was stand in stunned silence while she finished dressing and left. I gave her what I thought was a reasonable amount of time to get home then I called her. No answer. I waited about fifteen minutes and tried again... same thing. Each time I left her a message to call me. Either she isn't home or she's screening. I keep going over the events of this afternoon and I can't, for my life figure out what happened that set her off. Sharon had given me plenty of reason to think I couldn't shoulder my half of a relationship when we were married and maybe she was right, maybe I missed some subtle clue into the female psyche that other men spotted with no trouble. Even though it was early on, I thought we had potential. I was just about to call her again when the phone rings. If it's not her, I'm going over to see her. If I learned anything from my failed marriage, it was not to let this fester between us. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The messages were from Walter, just as I thought. He doesn't sound angry...just concerned. It would be so much easier if he were. I could handle his anger but, I'm afraid he wants more from me than I'm capable of giving him, at least right now. I know I should never have used him like I did but, I needed to feel wanted for a moment, to stave off the emptiness of my life. I remember what I thought when I didn't want to let go of his hand. He was neither at fault nor responsible for the state of my life and I think it's only fair that I call him and tell him that. He doesn't need to take up with someone who's in such an emotional tailspin. He deserves better than that. I pick up the phone with trembling fingers. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Skinner's Condo 8:00 PM I answer the phone on the second ring. "Hello." "Walter?" It's Margaret. I feel relief wash over me "Where have you been ? I've been trying to reach you." "I know, I made a stop before I came home." "Are you there now?" "Yes." "May I come over. We need to talk." "Alright." I was at her door in twenty minutes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I answer the door not knowing what to expect. God forgave me but, I'm not so sure Walter should. I step back to let him in. "Talk to me." he says simply. "I'm so sorry." I say, trying hard not to cry. "What I said to you was despicable." He just stands there, waiting. I explained how I needed the touch of another human being ....just to feel alive and that afterward I realized how wrong I was to have used him. That I understood, when he asked me to stay that he thought it could be the start of something between us. I tried to explain why I thought that wasn't a good idea, what my existence was like. "Right now I feel like my life is this big picture that has been cut into little pieces and tossed to the wind. I'm trying so hard to find them all and put them back together and I know that when I do, they'll be two big pieces missing..... my daughter and my home. I know I shouldn't worry about the house, it's just a place afterall..... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "No!" I say, taking her by the shoulders. " I saw your face when we went to your house. It was where you lived, where your memories were created. It should have been your safe haven." "Let me finish." she pleads." It's just a place. I've traveled from one naval base to another for all of my adult life so I learned to make wherever I was, my home quickly." "But that was because you had your family and your things with you so all you needed was a place to put them. Now your family has dwindled and most of your things are either destroyed or in storage. It's no wonder you feel the way you do." "Right now I'm so uncertain about everything. I don't know how to get my life back. You've been very understanding but, do you really need my emotional baggage?" " I know you feel unsure and why wouldn't you after everything that's happened?" I asked realizing we were still standing in the middle of her living room. I walked her to the sofa, sat down and pulled her onto my lap. "This isn't that easy so, please let me finish before you respond." I began. She nodded. "First, by the time you reach our age, we all have some baggage. Second, this is not the time for you to be alone. What happened this afternoon was wonderful but it was too soon. I'd like for us to take the time to get to know one another..... as friends. I know you feel you're not equipped to take on anything more than that and it's okay. I don't think I am either." I'd opened up to her like I hadn't to anyone in a long time and it felt pretty good. She seems surprised. "You're not just saying that?" she asks. "Nope." I hold up my right hand. "Honest injun." Her lips turn up at the corners. "What is this?" I ask, tracing the line of her mouth. "Could it be a smile?" My answer is a full on grin, with teeth and everything. "You have a beautiful smile Margaret." I say, becoming serious again. "You know, one of the things I like about you is that you didn't automatically call me Maggie." I'm surprised by this but respond: "I thought it was a family nickname and I wouldn't use it unless I was invited to." "I never liked it. Bill started calling me that right away. My parents were appalled. They ran a pretty formal household and didn't use "nicknames". "Tell me about them." I said. "No. I've dumped enough on you for one day. How would you like to open some of* your* baggage and share the contents?" she asks. So I told her about enlisting in the Marines at eighteen, Viet Nam and my after death experience, my long recovery. How I enrolled in college in order to earn the degree I'd need to apply to the FBI. How I felt distanced from the other freshmen. "I was older, for one thing. I'd seen the horrors of the war they only protested before getting drunk on Saturday nights, for another. I told her about meeting Sharon in my senior year and how we planned to marry after I graduated from Quantico and got settled somewhere as an agent. We wanted to start a family but getting established wasn't easy. The new agents get all the crap assignments and are moved around a lot. So we kept putting it off. It affected our marriage and that coupled with other factors led to its demise. I told her about how I used that as a shield, It was the armor that protected my heart and kept me lonely at the same time. When I'd finished, we sat in silence. Then she said one single word. "Wow." It may sound strange but, that made me laugh. It was such an honest response. "Walter." she said, running a finger along my cheek. "Your face completely transforms when you smile. You have dimples!!" she said as if this were the most amazing thing in the world. We both laughed, then she looked me straight in the eye. "If we're going to start out as friends, why am I sitting on your lap?" "Because it's easier to say difficult things when you have someone to hold onto. Besides, I discovered this afternoon that I like having you in my arms. OK?" "OK." she agrees. I don't know where we're going with this but, I think today we took the first steps in what I hope is a very long journey. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Summerhill Suites 11:00 PM After the gut wrenching talk we had while I sat on Walter's lap, I'm sure he's thirsty, so I ask if he'd like to have something to drink. He gets up, holding me so that I'm standing next to him and declines my offer. "No, it's been a very full day and I could use a good night's sleep. I imagine you can too, so I'll bid you a fond adieu." he says with a nod. He walks to the door with his arm around my waist, turns and pulls me into his warm embrace. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asks. "Nothing after attending mass." "Would you like to get together for an early dinner?" he asks. "I think that would be nice, what time?" "Pick you up about three?" "Yes, let's just make it something casual." I stipulate. "Don't worry Margaret." he laughs. "It's not a date. I know a place that's a cross between a sports bar and a pub. How does that sound?" "Sounds great, I love sports." "You're kidding." he says a little stunned. "No, really." "Great. I'll see you at three then." I lay in bed thinking Walter was right; this has been a full day. I make a mental run-through of it, ending with sitting on his lap. It was difficult not to react to it at the time but, I smile now with wicked pleasure knowing I can still cause an erection so easily. I sleep better tonight than I have in months. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The "Fox and Hound" is a huge place. It's divided into two rooms. The first has a bar along the back wall, booths up the sides and tables in the middle. The second is more like a like a living room/den with sofa groupings and a row of pool tables. Both have dark paneling, brass sconces, hunt prints and a row of televisions above the picture rail. As we're shown to a booth, I watch Margaret's reaction to the place. She seems to like it as she looks around. The waiter comes to take our drink order. "Margaret?" I ask. "Beer would be fine." "Two Michelob Ultras." I tell him. "Would you like a glass?" he asks her but, not me. "That won't be necessary." she replies. There's a laminated calendar page on the table listing upcoming events. She glances at it and something catches her eye. "They're going to have a music trivia game here next Wednesday. It's called " Don't Lose Your Marbles." Do you remember that?" she asks. "Yeah. It's from the old Lloyd Thaxton Show and it's probably trivia from the 80's." I reply. "Nope. It says "songs and music related questions from 1960-1969. Sounds like fun. Want to go?" "Margaret." I ask, with brow raised. "Are you asking me out on a date?" " Sure." she matches my teasing. "I'll even bring you a corsage." she says with a wink ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We had a satisfying meal of "pub food" and finished the night by shooting some pool. At her door we hugged for a long moment. She told me she had a good time but, I still wasn't sure if she was kidding or not about Wednesday so I decided to test the waters with a joke. "About my corsage. I prefer the kind that slips over the wrist." I said waving my hand limply in her face. "Color preference?" she asked, straight-faced. "Surprise me." She shakes her head and unlocks her door. "Goodnight Walter."she says and goes inside. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fox and Hound, Wednesday The place is packed for "Don't Lose Your Marbles" night. Mostly baby boomers. Some of the center tables have been removed and replaced with a small stage. On it are three chairs, each has a clear cylinder on the left arm and a buzzer on the right. Each cylinder contains 6 tennis-ball size "marbles". The festivities won't start for another hour but, we got here early to get a good spot and to eat before the games begin. While we're waiting for our dinner Walter starts the conversation with "Friends tell each other about themselves so, tell me what was your first ambition?" "In my family a girl had two choices; she could become a nun or get married--early. At first I wanted the former. I'd boarded at a convent high school that was also a Mother House." "What's that?" he asked. "It's where novitiates begin their training and where older nuns come to retire." "Why a nun?" "Because of Sister Frances. She told me at the end of freshman year luncheon she thought I'd make an excellent music teacher. I played piano and sang in the choir- I still solo at church occasionally. I told her I'd taken care of my five younger siblings so a classroom of 20 or so couldn't be much harder to handle." "What changed your mind?" "Boys" He throws his head back and laughs then becomes serious again. "Is that when you met Bill?" "No. That wouldn't happen for a couple of years." "How?" "We were going to a family reunion in upstate New York. We stayed at my Aunt Maeve's big farmhouse. I met Bill because he was a friend of my older cousin Ryan. I was 16 and would graduate in a couple of months. He was 22. We started writing to each other. Then he joined the Navy and that's when we really got to know each other, albeit on paper. He used to write the longest letters. I think he was more homesick and lonely than in love. I graduated in June. He got liberty and we became engaged. We were married eight months later because it had to fit his schedule. I was barely 17. "So instead of Sister......... "Margaret Mary Callahan doncha know." I said in a pretty convincing Irish accent. "You became Mrs. William Scully." he finished for me. I started to ask him more about his marriage but, our food came and the subject was dropped. It was just a few minutes before Don't Lose Your Marbles and the host was calling for everyone's attention so he could explain the rules. "The questions will be on the music and musicians from 1960- 1969. The first contestant to buzz in with the correct answer or name the song will win that question and the others will lose a marble and will be eliminated when their cylinder's empty. The winner will advance to the next round.This will continue for three rounds. We ask the audience to please not shout out the answers or cheer. Let's let our contestants concentrate. I took paper and a pens from my purse and told Walter we could play along to see how well we did against the players. 1. In 1964 the Beatles hit #1 with A Hard Day's Night. What performer or group did they displace in that slot? That was easy. "The Four Seasons" I wrote and showed it to Walter before anyone buzzed in. He smiled his acknowledgement. 2. In that decade a parent and child hit #1 separately and together. Who were the members of this talented family? I was stumped but, Walter began writing furiously. He finished just as the buzzer sounded and turned his pad toward me. Frank and Nancy Sinatra I read as the contestant said it. "That's right." the host said. "Frank had a hit with Strangers in The Night. Nancy, had These Boots are Made for Walkin' and together they had Something Stupid. ....... and so it went. We were having such a good time, we ended up staying till almost eleven. It finally occurred to me that Walter had to work the next day. When I reminded him of this, his response was "I get to stay out past curfew, even on week night's." He smiled that gorgeous smile of his and I realized just how much I enjoyed being with him. It's odd but, he's nothing like the little bit I heard about him from Dana. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We continued to see each other regularly. In that time I learned that when she was thirty and her youngest- Charlie- was five, Bill got shipped out to sea. She decided to get an advanced education. It took almost six years of combining full and part time schedules,Bill's time at home and raising her young family, to get her BA in Art History but,she did it. I told her I'd also studied after I was married. I got my degree in criminology from the American Academy of Law Enforcement Professionals when I was thirty- two. I went with her to buy a car to make sure she didn't get ripped off but, she insisted on looking for an apartment alone. I suggested she go for a sub-let till she made a final decision about her living arrangements. She called me one day on my private line to tell me she'd found a place. "It's a six month sub-let. They'll buy the paint if I do the work so, what can I bribe you with to get you to help me?" she said in one long breath. "Pizza and beer." I deadpanned. Two Weeks Later When I rang her bell prepared to work I was surprised by how much she'd already done. "Hi." she greeted me with a hug. I looked around. "What do you need me for?" "To paint the ceiling of course." she quipped. "Looks like you got a head start on me." "I was here before to turn on the power and phone--Oh, remind me to give you the number. The beer's in the fridge and there are three pizza menus of places that deliver on the kitchen counter." "Well aren't you just the model of efficiency?" I teased. "Hey, remember, I've moved around all of my adult life so I can crack down and set up a household like that!' she said with a snap of her fingers. She had already started preparing the room. The windows and baseboards were taped off. I opened a can of ceiling paint and was pouring it into the tray when she called from the back. "Would you like some music?" "Sure." "Radio or CDs?" I walked over to her in the kitchen. On the countertop was a stereo system with a 5 CD changer and AM/FM radio next to a stack of CDs. Together we chose the ones we wanted then returned to the living room. With the music for accompaniment the afternoon flew by. I didn't realize it until my stomach started growling. "Hey woman." I yelled. "You promised to feed me." "Well, get down off that ladder and tell me what you want on your pizza." I started to wipe my paint spattered hands when I got an idea. I chased her through the apartment threatening to smear her. I let her run for a while but caught her the moment I wanted to. She screamed in delight-- getting into my playful mood. We laughed like a couple of kids when I wiped paint all over her overalls. We were so absorbed in our mirth, we almost didn't hear the doorbell. "Now you did it." she laughed."It's probably the neighbors coming to tell me they're gonna complain to the landlord and get me kicked out before I even move in." She went to the door. I heard some undercurrent and went to the front of the apartment to see who it was. She walked in with her son. "Walter, this is Bill Jr. Bill this is Walter Skinner." Bill extended his hand but the look in his eye told me he held me partly responsible for both his sisters' deaths. After a few minutes of small talk, he asked. "So what are you doing?" He was looking right at me. "We were just about to order pizza. You'll stay for it won't you?" his mother asked. "No." he said, holding my gaze."What are you doing with my mother?" "Bill!" He ignored her. "William Scully Jr., look at me when I'm talking to you. Who do you think you are? Ever since you were kids I watched you try to ride shotgun over your sisters' lives. Now you think you're going to try it with me?" "I won't have him using you. Maybe getting you killed too." I never saw her hand connect with his face, only the mark it left. "And I won't have you speak that way about MY guest in MY home." she shouted. He calmed down when he realized how serious she was. "Alright Mom, just tell me what your relationship is." Margaret looked at her son, emotions warring on her face. Then she made a decision. "I'm not accountable to you. Now get out." she said with deadly calm. After he left, I went over to her and took her in my arms. <> I thought << Damn him to hell for ruining the jovial mood that had prevailed all day, for upsetting her>>. I stroked her hair and said soothing nothings till she stopped crying. "I'm sorry Walter. He's always been so self-righteous." "It's alright." I murmured. "He *did* make me realize something though." she said. "What was that?" I asked. "When he asked about our relationship, I realized I love you." Shivers went through me. "Oh God Sweetheart, you don't know how good it is to hear you say that. I've wanted to tell you but, wasn't sure you were ready to hear it." I said, holding her so tight I never wanted to let go. There was no furniture in yet so, we made love on the floor. We were both sore as hell the next day but, so happy it didn't really matter...... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That was three years ago. Margaret and I are married now. We have a beautiful home in McLean VA. We cook together, often using fresh veggies from our garden. We keep fit with long walks or bike rides and, since this is horse country we occasionally ride. We have season tickets for the Senators Hockey team and Wizards Basketball. We still go to the Fox and Hound regularly. Our days are filled with the activities and people that share our lives but, the nights are only for each other. On the work front, Margaret parlayed her Art History degree into a position as assistant curator at the Hirshhorn Museum of Modern Art at The Smithsonian. As for me, the information the Gunmen were able to get off the disk was enough to do some major housecleaning within the bureau. It contained full dossiers on each member of the syndicate, their relationships to several key personal at the FBI along with details of the crimes they committed. Names, dates, monies transferred, the works. I found out I wasn't the only AD who had a shadow, he --CSM-- was just more prevalent because I had supervision of the X-Files. After the dust settled, the President appointed me Director. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'll never know how Scully came to have that disk. I'll never stop regretting that she died for it but, I'll always be grateful that it brought us together, that our love was born.........out of the ashes. End.