Hi.  This is my second attempt to post.  Got the first back in the mail. 
Go figure. Shrug.  Anyway, I'm back after a long hiatus of my computer
being in the shop.  No uploading...No downloading...No fanfic....Pain and
suffering galor.  They bummed me out when they killed Melissa, so I sat
down and wrote this, not the best perhaps, but I sort of had to write
something.   Macspooky (2 parts)


Well, I guess the recent three partner knocked all our socks off in
one way or another.  I for one felt really bad about Melissa getting
killed and decided to write a story about her funeral and how her
death might have affected those around her.  This one is not part of
my "Generations" series and does a bit of a different take on things.
I'll rate it PG.  I warn you, it does have its romantic aspects
although in this case respects, albeit reluctantly, Chris Carter's
desire to keep things platonic.  BTW, the X-Files still belong to him,
Fox, Ten Thirteen, etc.  I'm still borrowing mercilessly and praying
they don't mind.  I wrote this on October 5, 1995 with no intention of
stepping on anyone's copyrighted toes.  This story is in 2 parts.

                              "The Funeral"
                                    
                                    by
                                    
                               Macspooky 

     Fox Mulder slipped quietly into the back of the beautiful old
Roman Catholic Church.  Although he was not Catholic himself, not
particularly a believer in any religion, he had always found something
soothing about the dim lights, the stained glass, the statues and the
flickering candle light in such places, every day but today that
is. He was too filled with grief and concern to find anything
soothing.  In the center aisle of the church sat Melissa Scully's
coffin.  It was the day of her burial, her requiem mass.  No one had
told him, not even Dana, and that hurt a little, but he had seen the
announcement in the newspaper along with her obituary.  She had been
33 years old.  He had thought to slip in unobtrusively and slip out
again unseen.  Even if he was not wanted here, he had known Melissa,
and she had, in a way known him, or a part of him, too well.  Melissa
had seen his dark side.  He knew now though that he wouldn't be able
to do so.  He would not simply be able to leave.

     Margaret Scully, dressed in black, sat quietly in the front pew
flanked by her two sons and their wives and children.  The church was
crowded with mourners, relatives, friends, but the scene was
distorted, not right somehow.  It didn't take him long to realize what
was wrong.  Dana sat quietly to one side, not with her family, not
with friends, but by herself, half hidden behind a large stone pillar,
her face a mask of controlled grief.  In his entire life, he didn't
think he had ever seen anyone so forlorn, so alone, so seemingly
forsaken as was his partner, his friend, at that moment.  She was a
pale shadow of herself, dressed in black, every ounce of body fat gone
from her already slender frame, deep dark circles under her eyes.  He
would have gotten up and gone to her then, but the priest came and the
mass began.  Margaret tried to give a eulogy but couldn't go on. She
too was a ghost of her former self.  Melissa's brothers spoke briefly,
but Dana didn't move, never stirred, just sat and stared miserably at
the coffin.  The priest asked if anyone had anything else to say, and
for some strange reason, Fox found himself drawn to the lectern.  He
felt both a need to say something, and anger that Dana should feel,
should be so excluded, or left so alone during this difficult time. He
knew she would not have sat away from her family voluntarily.  Perhaps
it was instinct, or perhaps it was just his psychologist's
perceptions, but someone needed to speak for Dana.  She obviously
couldn't speak for herself.

     "My name is Fox Mulder.  I knew the deceased all too briefly.
Melissa Scully was a beloved daughter and a beloved only sister to
Dana," he said quietly looking out over the church, taking in her
mother and her brothers.  A number of people gasped.  "She was also a
friend to me.  I was in a very dark place, and she led me into the
light.  Melissa did not deserve to die so young.  She did not deserve
to die the way she did. Thank you."  With that, he left the podium and
went to the place where his partner sat.  She was trembling, on the
brink of tears, fighting it.  He slipped an arm around her and Dana
rubbed her pale face against his arm and rested her head wearily
against his shoulder.
     "You aren't alone anymore," he whispered softly.
     "Thank you, Fox," she replied quietly marshalling all her
strength to remain still as her mom and two brothers got up once again
and presented the communion host and wine to the priest for the
offertory.  She hadn't even been aware that she had used his despised
first name.  She hated betraying signs of weakness, but this was
something she couldn't fight, her mother blaming her for Melissa's
death.  She couldn't fight it because her mother was right.  Dana
blamed herself as well. Her Dad had been correct all along.  She had
made a terrible error in joining the FBI, and it had cost her only
sister her life.  Dana had thought about not coming, but that hadn't
seemed right either, so she had arrived alone and sat to one side. She
had thought to leave alone.  She was grateful that Mulder had come,
however, even though she hadn't asked him.  She had known that would
hurt him a little, but there was something inside her that never
wanted anyone to know when there was trouble in her private life.
Sometimes, though, it seemed that in the whole world, all they had was
each other, and he had become an integral part of that private life,
her whole life for that matter.  It had been wrong somehow of her not
to ask him and she knew that now.

     Everyone left the church to go to the gravesight, a small
cemetery in Maryland.  Dana stood apart once again, away from her
family, as her mother and brothers got into the limousine for the
ride.
     "I....I guess I won't go...." said Dana shakily.  She wanted to
die.  She hated the grief and the anger and the fact that her sister
was dead and her murder unavenged.  She hated the guilt, but most of
all she hated being separated from her family, the people that had
always been her anchor, the ones who had always been there for each
other in time of trouble.  She hated what she had done to her mother.
     "Why not, Dana?" he asked gently.  "No matter what, Melissa was
your sister. It's your right to be at her service."
     "I...I don't think I can drive.  I might...I'm liable to kill
someone else."
     "You haven't killed anyone, Dana, and I see that you can't ride
with you family," he observed quietly. "I'll drive you.  Come on.
It's okay.  It will be okay."  He felt a little sick inside that after
all she had been through, now she had to go through this.  Sometimes
he hated the very concept of family.  The Scully's had always seemed
the kind to stick together through thick and thin.  Appearances could
be deceptive.  Of course, Mrs. Scully had been through a lot, too much
in fact, and possibly she had just cracked under the strain of it all.
If so, it would be difficult to blame her.
     Dana was silent during the car ride and he didn't press her.
Scully had always been a very private person.  Undoubtedly, she was
appalled by his presence, that he had found out that there was
personal trouble in her life.  He respected her sense of privacy.  She
would tell him when she was ready.  He suspected he already knew about
everything he needed to.  He knew it was a feat for her to admit that
she couldn't drive and needed a ride.  If there was blame for
Melissa's death, it should fall on him he believed.  He should have
found a way to get Dana transferred a long time ago, after her
abduction, but he had needed her and been selfish.

     The day was much too beautiful for a funeral.  The sun was
shining brightly, the grass green, the trees blooming.  The sky was
too blue for death, the clouds too white and puffy.  He found himself
thinking that it was a "Melissa" kind of day.  It should have been
bleak, raining tears from the sky.  Fox Mulder stood at a distance
with his small partner as the final prayers were said and the coffin
lowered into the ground.
     "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...."
     Each of the family members threw a handful of dirt into the
grave, each but Dana, who still remained apart.  Someone handed
Margaret one of the flowers, a rose, a rose that came from one of the
arrangements that had been brought to the cemetery.
     "No...no..." said Margaret with sudden anger..."She sent that
one...her...."
     "Mom, it's alright, you don't have to take it if you don't want.
Please calm down."  A man looked in their direction, a tall heavyset
dark man, losing his hair, a younger version of Dana's father.  He
looked at his sister with intense anger, and Dana turned away.  Head
bowed and shoulders stooped, Dana walked back in the direction of the
car.  She seemed broken, and Fox wondered if she could be fixed.
     Fox didn't follow immediately.  He turned toward Mrs. Scully and
approached her.  They had spent a lot of time together in the hospital
when Dana had been ill.  He had grown to respect and admire her, to
wish she was his mother.  Margaret Scully's actions this day both
shocked and surprised him, yet he knew that anyone could be pushed to
the brink.  Although he had no desire to enter in a family dispute, he
felt morally bound to offer his condolences and perhaps find a way to
breach the gap developing in the family circle.
     "I'm sorry about your daughters, Mrs. Scully," he said quietly.
     "Daughters?  I don't have any more daughters.  Missy is dead, and
Dana might as well be.  She killed her sister.  She didn't mean to,
but she did it just the same.  She wouldn't listen to her dad....She
wouldn't listen to anyone.....She just kept doing what she wanted to
do until Melissa died."  Margaret broke down completely.  Her sons
seemed at a lost.  Fox put his arms around her and held her while she
sobbed, control finally having slipped entirely.
     "You are very angry now," he said softly, "very angry and filled
with grief, but when you think about it, you will realize that isn't
true, and when you do, Dana will be waiting."  He understood.  In her
grief, Margaret had chosen to blame her younger daughter for what had
happened, just as his parents had chosen to blame him for Samantha's
loss rather than themselves, especially his father who should have
known better.  People dealt with grief in insane ways.  She had to
vent her emotions somewhere, or go mad, and Dana had been the
unfortunate target, just at a time when she was most vulnerable
herself.
     "Who the hell asked you, Mulder?"  snapped Bill Scully.
     "No one.  I know your sister and it's true."  Mrs. Scully slipped
away from him and wiped her eyes.  Fox turned to go and rejoin his
partner.
     "Fox....." she called after him when he was walking away, "Fox,
take care of my.....I can't face her...not now, maybe never, but take
care of Dana, please."
     "Always," he promised and continued his walk.  With her words, he
knew there was hope of a reconciliation, perhaps soon.  He hoped,
soon.

===========================================================================

From: macspooky@erols.com (Macspooky)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Macspooky:The Funeral (Pt.2)
Date: 10 Nov 1995 12:40:38 -0500


Here is Chapter 2
All disclaimers listed in Chapter 1 still apply.  Written October 5, 1995

"The Funeral" Chapter 2  by Macspooky 

     Mulder walked up the small hill to where Scully was waiting by
the car.  He saw that she was speaking to someone, Walter Skinner.  He
approached and nodded at the man who looked harried.
     "I'm fine, Sir.  I want to come back to work right away."
     "No, absolutely not, Agent Scully."  Skinner looked at the young
woman with concern and compassion.  Then he turned his attention to
Mulder.  "It's going to take a few more days to get the suspension
lifted and your weapons reissued.  I don't want to see either of you
until next Monday.  I also want you to stay out of trouble.  That is a
direct order from me.  Do I make myself understood?  Do I?"
     "Yes, Sir," they both replied reluctantly.
     "Again, Agent Scully, I am sorry about your sister, and sorry
that I was delayed from getting to the service.  Now, let me pay my
respects to your mother before they leave."
     The two agents watched Skinner walk down the hill.  They were
grateful to him.  Although Mulder had been upset at first with the
fact that Skinner had wanted to cut a deal and Scully had gone along,
it hadn't taken him much time to realize that it was the only thing
they could have done.  It had let them live to search for Samantha and
answers, much needed answers, another day.  He was not unaware that
Skinner had put his life at risk for the two of them, but Mulder had
the feeling that the man had almost enjoyed doing it.  It was as
though he was almost glad to be out from behind his desk if only for a
little while.  Fox only hoped that he would not have to compromise
like that again, that next time, he would be able to nail the bastards
and find out what they had done with Samantha and what they had done
to Dana.
     "Take me  home, Mulder," she said softly.
     "Okay," he replied.

     He took her back to her apartment, but when he pulled up in front
of the house, she began to tremble.  He realized suddenly that when
she walked in the door, she would have to see the spot where her
sister had died.  The floor was undoubtedly still stained with
Melissa's blood.. He had been taking it for granted that she had been
staying with her mother, but now he realized that had not been the
case.  He had no idea where she had been.
     "You stay here," he said quietly.  "I'm going to get you some
clothes and you'll come home with me tonight."
     "No," she said, but her voice trembled, "I won't be afraid.  I
won't...."
     "Scully, you've just lost your sister and you are in shock.  You
are not going in there.  Not now.  For once you are going to listen to
me.  If you don't want to stay with me, what about a friend...."
     "No...there's no one...." she lowered her head wearily not
permitting herself to cry.  "Okay, but just for now.  I'm coming home
later.  I am."
     He nodded.  "We'll see," he thought to himself.

     He really hadn't known what to bring her, some jeans, a shirt, a
nightgown.  He had felt like a voyeur going into her underwear draw.
He had remembered a toothbrush and running shoes for comfort.  She
followed him into his apartment numbly.  Had it been only a few days
ago that he had walked in here and seen she and Skinner facing each
other with guns?  The sight had shocked him.  He knew she was in bad
shape when she didn't automatically pick up the two day old pizza and
deposit it in his trash can as she would have done in the past, making
some acerbic comment about his housekeeping standards.
     "It's okay, Scully," he said quietly.  He led her to the bedroom
and opened the futon for her.  The sheets were clean, well reasonably
anyway he hoped, because he seldom slept here.  "You change.  I'll
make you some tea, and then I want you to get some rest."  As soon as
she fell asleep, he planned on calling a cleaning service he knew and
making certain any evidence of Melissa's shooting was gone. He knew he
wasn't going to be able to keep her from going home for long.  Dana
was a fighter.  Her defeat was temporary, or so he told himself, so he
hoped.

     Dana hadn't wanted the tea, or the toast he had brought her for
that matter, but she had eaten and drank by rote because she was
beyond exhaustion, beyond arguing.  She wanted to go to sleep and not
wake up, ever.  She lay down on the futon dressed in the nightgown he
had pulled off the back of her bathroom door for her, and he pulled
the coverlet up over her.
     "Get some sleep, Scully," he admonished gently.  "Afterwards,
perhaps things will seem a little better."  He left her.  She turned
on her side pulling the covers over herself tightly.  She wanted to
feel safe, wanted to be safe.  Funny, the sheets, the blanket, they
smelled like Mulder, the scent of his sweat and soap and aftershave.
It was oddly comforting.  Mulder, who else was there but Mulder?  She
drifted off to sleep.  Several hours later she awoke with a cry.
Things were chasing her, unknown things, small alien things.  They
were chasing her, but catching Missy.  It made no sense.  The door was
flung open and Mulder appeared.
     "Scully, are you..."  One look at her told him not even to bother
to ask.  She wasn't alright.  He sat down next to her and put his arms
around her for the second time in a few days.  She felt so small next
to him, so tiny and vulnerable.  He waited for her to pull away, to
assert her independence, but she didn't.  Instead, after awhile, she
pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, a long lingering kiss.
For a moment, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.
     "Love me, Fox," she pleaded. She felt frantic with desire,
suddenly wanted him more than anything, was tired of playing games,
tired of being the Ice Queen.  "I need someone to love me.  I need you
to love me.  Please..."  Desperate for contact she pulled him down
beside her.  "No one has loved me in so long. Sometimes it feels like
no one ever loved me."
     He wanted to, God how he wanted to.  He wanted nothing else.
     "Oh, Dana," he murmured nuzzling her neck.  "Dana, Dana....."
Then, he did the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life.
He loved her enough to stop.
     "No one cares about me," she wailed.  "No one."  The damn broke,
and she finally began to cry.  "And I don't deserve anyone to care
either."
     "Oh, Dana, that's not true," he said softly rocking her gently.
"I love you."
     "Then why won't you love me?" she demanded through her tears,
aware that she wasn't making sense, but only that she needed
something, someone, him.  "Why?"  She felt, she *was* beyond reason in
her loneliness.
     "Because I care about you more than anything in the world, and
because the time isn't right.  If we loved each other like that now,
we would both be sorry, but you more than me."  He gazed at her with
deep longing.
     "No...that's a lie..." Dana knew in her heart it was true, but
she needed love, needed to be touched, needed to forget even for a
brief time, needed him.
     "Hey, Little Bit," he wiped her eyes with his hands, "one day,
when the time is right, I will love you that way, and it will be
beautiful, but its going to be the right time, okay?  And you are
going to be Mrs. Fox Mulder.  We'll do all the things that normal
people do....have a wedding, buy a house, plan a family.
Maybe....maybe even Samantha will be there."
     "Do you mean that, Fox?" The very idea caused her to wonder.  If
he loved her enough to marry her one day.......
     "Of course I do, but you will meet someone who'll take away from
me, at which point my heart will break."  He smiled at her again
tucking her hair behind her ear.
     "That isn't going to happen, ever.  It's always going to be just
you and me, Fox.  I realize that now.  I'll wait though.  I'll wait
forever until you think the time is right. "  She pulled herself
together and accepted his handkerchief gratefully.  She knew that he
was right, and knew as well that he was a very special man in so many
ways.  No one would ever take her heart away from him.  She still felt
miserable, but his sweet words had given her hope for the future, a
future just maybe they might really share one day if some beautiful
woman didn't come along and steal his heart from her.  The phone rang
suddenly and Fox reached for it, his thoughts on the future as well,
one he hoped would be brighter, a time he hoped would come when he
could love her the way he wanted to.
     "It's for you, Dana," he said quietly.  He watched as she took
the phone and listened.
     "Oh, hello, Mom..............I love you too, Mom.......Of course
I'll come over tomorrow....."
     She hung up the phone and smiled at him ever so slightly.  It was
going to be okay.
     

The End