Title: Looking Within

Author: Andrea

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Through Millenium

Disclaimer: You know Chris, I might stop doing this if you'd 
just give me what I want.

Category: MSR, S, Scully 1st person

Notes: I like to thank Dan and Aly for beta reading, Kell for
tremendous support and Jemirah for being the best tweaker in the
business!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the lace curtains
fluttering at the open window. Early morning sunshine was falling
in a warm rectangle at the foot of the bed. Originally, I had
planned to sleep late every morning of this vacation, but since I
hadn't been able to stay awake past 10 o'clock these past few
nights, I kept waking early.

My Irish blood seemed to know exactly where I was. I could almost
feel it coursing through my veins with every beat of my heart. I
hadn't felt this healthy in a long time. In fact, I don't ever
remember feeling this alive.

When I decided to make this pilgrimage to Ireland, I hadn't
anticipated feeling this sense of belonging. Perhaps to a limited
extent I had expected something similar when I met my father's
relatives, but I hadn't expected to feel such a strong bond to
the land itself. It was a connection that I had never
experienced before.

This bed and breakfast that my mother had hunted down for me was
perfect. Initially I had been a little skeptical about staying at
a restored rectory, thinking it would be spartan, but this place
was gorgeous. Surrounded by gardens and off of the beaten path,
it was exactly what I'd wanted; quiet, beautiful and restful.

My room was large, even by American standards, with a fireplace
and a private bath. When I had first spoken to the landlady, I
was puzzled about her making a point of mentioning the fireplace.
Yes, it was January when I made my reservation, but my trip
was scheduled for June. It wasn't until I spent my second night in
Dublin that I understood the significance of that fireplace.

At my mother's insistence, I had contacted some of my father's
relatives before I left on my trip. Our particular branch of the
Scully family had emigrated in the early 1900's, so any
relationship I had to these Scullys was distant, but I agreed to
contact them to make my mother happy, Expecting little more than
polite offers of meals, I was astounded by how completely the
long lost American cousin was welcomed into the fold.

Upon my arrival in Dublin, I was whisked away to have a quiet
meal with about thirty of my closest relatives. They packed me
off to bed early, telling me I needed to rest after my long
flight. On my second night, a party was held in my honor at
the local public house with more than 100 Scullys and adherents
present. More than a few of them found it very amusing that I was
the only Scully in attendance with red hair.

Being in such a large crowd of people whose DNA were so close to
my own turned out to be very enlightening. It seemed that the
lack of vocal ability was a common Scully trait. Being
embarrassed about it, however was not. After two pints even I
had joined in, off-key and proud of it.

Even though I had been as adamant as I knew how to be, I couldn't
convince my relatives to let me stay at my hotel. They insisted
that I would be shaming them and that they would never be able to
show their faces on the streets of Dublin again after turning a
relative out of their homes.

It was then that I learned why the landlady had emphasized the
fireplace. I can't remember ever being so cold. It wasn't that my
room was cold. For some reason the sheets were damp. On my first
night I had thought that my great aunt had put freshly laundered
sheets on the bed and they weren't quite dry. When I crawled into
bed after my night at the pub I was so tired that I thought I
would fall asleep instantly. Instead I was kept awake by damp
sheets again. A fire to warm up the sheets would have been more
than welcome.

On my third day in Ireland, I bid my relatives farewell,
with promises to visit again before I left the country, got into
my rental car and headed south towards Waterford.  I planned to
bring my mom crystal, linen and wool as souvenirs. Try as I
might, I couldn't convince her to come with me. My father had
always talked about a trip like this, but instead of seeing it
as a way to carry out a wish for him, I think she would have
grieved for him the entire time.

As I lay in my bed with the soft morning breeze carrying in the
scent of the roses from the garden, my thoughts drifted back to
Mulder. One of the reasons that I had planned this trip was to
distance myself from him. We had been spending so much time
together I was having a hard time not incorporating him into
everything I did.

When I told him that I needed some time to myself, he seemed
undisturbed. Apparently he thought it was such a good idea that
he was going to do the same. I had a hard time imagining Mulder
doing anything that might pass as a vacation. How many times
could one person visit Graceland anyway? Actually, I had no
idea where he was; that was the agreement we made. How could we
possibly have our own lives when we were perpetually joined at
the hip? So neither knew were the other was and there were to be
no cell phone calls unless it was life or death.

So after spending a couple of days with my family in Dublin and
another day and a half in Waterford, I had driven back up to
County Kilkenny to this bed and breakfast. I had spent my first
day here wandering through the garden, but for the life of me, I
had no idea what I was going to do today, never mind tomorrow.

It had been less than a week and I missed Mulder so terribly it
hurt. I had not realized how much I looked forward to seeing him
each day or how much time we spent talking on the phone. But that
was the reason I was doing this, wasn't it? I needed to learn how
to have Mulder be my partner, not my entire life. I used to get
along just fine without him, I was sure with practice I could do it
again. And maybe if I told myself enough times, it would actually
happen.

After another few minutes of lounging, I got out of bed,
determined to make the most out of my day.

Bobbie, the landlady, had made a special breakfast for me.
There were a two other couples staying here as well, but Bobbie
had decided to take me under her wing and fussed over me whenever
she had a chance. I had raved about her scones yesterday, so it
was scones and jam with tea for breakfast again. It was fine with
me because it truly was delicious.

I was sitting at the table, lost in thought, when Bobbie
surprised me by sitting down and putting her hand on mine.

"So who is he, love?"

"I beg your pardon?" I squeaked in surprise. Had she known that
my thoughts had managed to swing around to Mulder again? How
could she know? I had never mentioned Mulder to her.

"The man you're here to forget," she said softly.

"Oh, it's not like that, Bobbie, honestly," I smiled.

"Well, I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I
shouldn't be sticking my nose in."

No, Bobbie, I'm not trying to forget a man, not really. It's hard
to explain."

Her hand still on mine, she sat there nodding sympathetically.

"It's my partner," I admitted.

"Partner?" She repeated and then after a look of realization had
crossed her face, she took her hand off of mine quickly.

I couldn't help laughing. When Bobbie had asked me my profession,
I had said I was a doctor. I was trying to get away from work and
I didn't want to spend my entire vacation talking about the FBI.

"I'm sorry, Bobbie," I apologized. She didn't look very amused
at my laughter.

"When I said I was a doctor, I wasn't being completely honest," I
confessed.

At this her eyes widened, apparently I had piqued her curiousity.

"I *am* a doctor, but I specialize in forensic medicine. I work
with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. My partner and I have
been working very closely for a long time and we decided that we
needed some space," I explained the situation to her.

"So, I was right. It is a man," she said smugly.

"Well, yes," I admitted. "But it's not like you think."

"You're not in love with him?"

"No, we're friends, best friends."

Not caring that I could see that she didn't believe a word I was
saying, Bobbie just sat there nodding.

"So, where is your man then?" She asked.

"I don't know," I thought she was still talking about Mulder.
"We agreed not to tell each other where we were going."

"Not your partner, love," she grinned. "Your man."

"Oh, I'm not involved with anyone at the moment," I felt the
colour rising in my cheeks.

"I see," she was openly smirking. "And how long has it been since
you were involved with someone?"

Biting back my "That is none of your business.", I shrugged and
said, "A while. That's why I'm here, Bobbie. Mulder and
I have been spending so much time together that I haven't had
time for a life of my own. I'm trying to change that."

"Is he involved with someone?" She continued her interrogation.

I shook my head.

"I see," she smiled. "But he's not in love with you either?"

"Well, I can't speak for him," I shrugged again, not wanting to
mention anything that Mulder might have said or done to lead
someone to believe otherwise. I spend enough time convincing 
myself that he is just kidding around, I didn't want to try to 
explain it to someone else.

"What are your plans today, Dana?" Bobbie inquired, finally
dropping the subject of my love life, much to my relief.

"Nothing special, maybe I'll just go for a walk," I told her, "or
do some reading."

"Well, if you like, you could borrow my bicycle," she offered.

"That sounds like a good idea. Thank you."

"If you have another couple of minutes, Dana, I have a little
story I'd like to tell you."

"I'm in no hurry," I smiled and poured myself another cup of tea.
If there was one thing I had learned about the Irish on my trip,
it was that they had a gift for storytelling.

"Not too far south of here, maybe half an hour by bicycle, there
are ruins of a very old castle, called Balla Dearbh Baidh."

I nodded and took a sip if my tea. This sounded interesting.

"Well, this castle was the home of young lovers, Siobhan and
Aidan. Their parents had paired them to strengthen their land
holdings. As it turned out, Siobhan and Aidan had already fallen
in love, so the arranged marriage suited them perfectly," Bobbie
paused to take a sip of her tea before continuing. "Now, not too
long after their union Aidan left to fight against the British in
the rebellion of 1688. Between then and 1690 the lovers saw each
other only fleetingly and like many of his countrymen, he fought
at the Battle of the Boyne. Unfortunately, like so many other
young Irish men, he gave up his life trying to keep the British
out of Ireland."

I knew all about the Battle of the Boyne, my father had made sure
of that, but I nodded politely while Bobbie told the story.

"But Siobhan never gave up hope that Aidan would come back to 
her. According to the legend, her want to see her true love was 
so keen, that even after she died, her desire to see her true 
love remained. And now, it is said that if you want to see who 
your true love is, all you have to do is sit among the ruins and 
he or she will come to you in a vision."

"That's a lovely story," I smiled.

"Maybe you should visit the castle and see who your true love
is," Bobbie suggested.

"You don't really believe that do you?" I said in surprise. I
thought she had just been sharing some local lore with me.
It seems I had been wrong in thinking that she had dropped the
subject of my love life.

"I do," Bobbie replied very seriously.

"Well, why wouldn't everyone just go there to find out who their
true love is, instead of struggling through bad dates and failed
relationships?" I challenged her.

"The truth can be a double-edged sword," she replied evenly.
"Apparently, some people never see anyone; either destined to be
alone or to live in a loveless marriage. Some people see visions
of people they never meet and some people see a person who is
very much older or younger than they are. Not everyone is lucky
enough to meet their true love or even be destined to have that
kind of love."

"What about you? What did you see?" I was curious.

"I've never been inside of the ruins. Donald and I are very
happy. What would have happened if either one of us had gone to
the ruins and had a vision of someone else? Would we still be so
happy?

"Then why do you think that I should go?" I laughed.

"I can't say for certain, Dana, but I think that maybe you've
already met your true love and you just don't realize it."

Bobbie was obviously convinced that Mulder and I were meant for
each other and just didn't know it. I think I would know by now
if Mulder was my soulmate. After spending the last seven years
together, something would have jumped out at me. Not wanting to
offend Bobbie, though, I told her none of this.

"Well, maybe tomorrow I'll head up there. Today I think I'll just
sit in the garden and read a book. I normally don't get much time
to read just for pleasure."

"Now you understand why a lot of people don't want to go to Balla
Dearbh Baidh. They are afraid of the truth."

"I'm not afraid of the truth," I contradicted. "Finding out the
truth is what I do for a living."

"That's looking without to find the truth, Dana. I'm talking about
looking within."

The woman had known me slightly more than 36 hours. At least
Philip Padgett had been stalking me for months before he claimed
to know the secrets of my heart. But I couldn't be angry with
Bobbie, she didn't mean any harm. I'm sure my aunties in Dublin
would have been just as bad, given the chance.

"Really, Bobbie, I'll go tomorrow. I don't think I'm up to having
my true love revealed to me today."

Ignoring her protests, I helped her carry the dishes into the
kitchen.

"Would it be alright if I took one of the books from the library
into the garden?" I asked as I set my cup and plate beside the
sink.

"Of course, love, that's why the books are there," she smiled.

Apparently, she'd forgiven me for not dashing off to Balla Dearbh
Baidh immediately.

"Thanks, Bobbie," I smiled and headed off towards the library.

When I had spoken to Bobbie on the phone and she had told me
about the small library that she and her husband had created in
one of the old offices, I had pictured a couple of bookcases, not
three walls filled floor to ceiling with books. The previous day, I
had spent a couple of minutes looking at the contents, but I had
only managed to see a couple of shelves on one wall; a feast for
the eyes was waiting for me.

Prior to my trip, I had wanted to get into an Irish frame of mind
so I picked up a couple of books by Maeve Binchy. My schedule
being what it was, I hadn't been left with any time to read
either of them. I was about to throw them into my suitcase when a
thought struck me. How touristy would I look if I started hauling
out books by Irish authors? I decided to leave them at home.

As I scanned over the titles of the books my progress was halted
by a group of books by the same author - Maeve Binchy. In fact,
there were books of poetry by William Butler Yeats, and Padraic
Colum, some plays by Sean O'Casey and Lennox Robinson, a
collection of short stories by Mary Colum, and novels of James
Joyce, Liam O'Flaherty, Molly Keane, Edna O'Brien and many others
with names I didn't recognize, but that sounded distinctly Irish.

Both of the Maeve Binchy books that I chose were there. I knew
I should have decided on a book that I didn't already own,
but I had picked those books because they appealed to me. So,
trying to ignore my feelings of guilt, I retrieved the
copy of _Light a Penny Candle_ and then headed to my room to
fetch my glasses and a sweater.

Once I was settled on a bench in the garden, it took no time at
all for me to become totally engrossed in the story. The first
time I looked up was when Bobbie's voice startled me.

"Good book, Dana?" She was standing in front of me with a cup of
tea and a sandwich.

"Oh, is it lunch time? "You shouldn't have..."

"It's 2:30, Dana," she interrupted me.

I checked my watch in disbelief; it was 2:30.

"My favourite is Aisling," Bobbie nodded towards the book.

"Mine, too," I agreed as I put the book down. "I'd like to think
that I'm as strong as she is." I took the cup and plate from her.
"Thank, you, Bobbie," I smiled.

"It's nothing," she waved it off.

"Such a pretty name, Aisling," I said softly.

"It means 'a vision', which I guess is why mothers choose it for
their darling daughters. Don't ask me why my parents chose
Roberta," she rolled her eyes.

Having just taken a bite of my sandwich, I had to put my hand
over my mouth when I laughed.

"My parents told me that my name had Celtic origins," I told her
when I had swallowed.

"Edana," Bobbie nodded. "It means passionate and fiery."

I rolled my eyes. "Flaming red hair, even at birth."

"And you grew into the rest," she smiled.

"Not really how I would describe myself," I shrugged, even though
I could feel my cheeks growing hot.

"Still looking without," she noted as she turned and walked back
to the house.

Well, I guess I could be described as passionate about certain
things--my work, my beliefs, my friendships. But I would never
describe any of my romantic entanglements as passionate. I was
loyal and considerate, but never passionate. No one had ever
stirred those kind of feelings inside of me. Maybe that was
because I hadn't met my true love yet. What if I didn't see
anyone at Balla Dearbh Baidh? What if I was destined never to
love or be loved passionately? Did I really want to know? I shook
my head. Seeing nothing would only confirm what I already
believed, anyway. It was local lore, nothing else. People who did
claim to see their true loves were probably only seeing what they
wanted to see.

I would go tomorrow, if only to see the ruins of the castle and
for the exercise. As for what I would tell Bobby about what I saw
there, I would cross that bridge when I got to it.

After finishing my sandwich, I took my dishes back into the house
and then retreated to my room to continue reading my book.

Since supper in Ireland was served around 8, I managed to finish
my book before it was time to go back downstairs, having passed
on tea. It had been a long time since I had devoured a book that
quickly.

Following the meal, I lit a small fire and turned down my bed.
Now after a soak in the tub, my sheets would be warm and
welcoming. It was barely 10 when I was snugly tucked into my
bed.

Even though I was very sleepy, I couldn't help thinking about
that damned legend and what Bobbie had said about Mulder. It was
true that I missed him terribly, but that was to be expected
owing to the amount of time that we normally spent together. It
didn't mean, as Bobbie thought, that I was in love with him. He
wasn't even my type.

I almost always picked men who were thinkers, serious types who
admired my mind as much as my body. Although Mulder was
intelligent, he was far from serious. Since he was always joking,
I was never sure what Mulder thought about my mind. As for my
body, I think I can safely say, judging by his former girlfriends,
I wasn't his type either.

It took me a long time to get to sleep, tired as I was, with all
of these thoughts racing around in my head.

Still, I woke early the following morning and decided to make a
day of my outing, planning to stop at a little village that I
had blinked and missed on the drive in. Bobbie had wanted to make
some sandwiches for me, but there was an inn in the village where
I could get some lunch. She was a little offended until I
explained that it wouldn't be a trip to Ireland if I didn't have
lunch in a pub at least once.

Promising my 35 year old surrogate mother that I would be home
before it got too dark, I headed south on the bicycle she had
lent me, a raincoat stuffed into the mini backpack that was
substituting as my purse.

The countryside was beautiful and whenever I stopped to admire 
it, or just for a breather, people were drawn to me like magnets,
seemingly appearing out of nowhere. At first they were just
curious about the unfamiliar face, but my American accent only
heightened their curiousity. I spent so much time chatting, it
was after 1 o'clock when I finally reached Tierney's Inn.

Claiming I had an appointment, I managed to escape the inn two
hours later. All of the conversation was very entertaining, but
they would have bent my ear all afternoon if I hadn't come up
with some excuse to leave.

The side trip to the village had added quite a bit of time on to
my trek, and since I was stopped regularly again, it was nearly 5
o'clock when I finally got to the castle.

Even in ruins it was breathtaking. It lay nestled in a little 
valley, which seemed to me to be a poor defensive location. 
Although, if you were far enough away, the rolling hills of the 
countryside would have probably camouflaged it. The keep was 
just a pile of rubble. The surrounding walls, which were all 
that remained standing, were beginning to crumble as well. The 
thick carpet of spongy moss that cushioned my footfalls had 
spread to the castle walls, its slow, patient journey from the 
moist earth undisturbed for countless years. Ivy had covered 
the walls completely, little trailers clinging to all of the 
nooks and crannies the deteriorating walls offered. Like little 
fingers prying at the stones, it seemed to be trying to tear 
apart the very structure that bore it. I could easily imagine 
why a legend had also become intertwined with these mossy walls. 
As I stood in awe of this stunning tableau, a fine mist formed, 
further softening its weathered features.

It wasn't hard to imagine how striking it must have been in
Siobhan and Aidan's time. Finding a little alcove, I sat down
and thought about the tragedy that had befallen the young lovers
and the legend that had arisen from it. With my eyes closed, I
was thinking about how gloriously romantic the whole idea of
seeing visions of your true love was when I got that eerie
feeling that I was being watched.

My eyes flew open immediately. Walking towards me from the other
side of the keep was a man wearing jeans and a beige cable knit
sweater. Blinking my eyes rapidly, I tried to focus. Was this my
true love? Was I really having a vision? The fine mist was making
it difficult to see his face clearly. His hair was dark and he 
seemed to be sporting a few days growth of stubble. My heart was 
beating wildly in my chest. As he got closer, I was able to make 
out his features. He looked just like...Bobbie was right. It was 
Mulder. I was having a vision of Mulder. Then my vision spoke to 
me.

"Hey! It is you, Scully. What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here, Mulder?" I cried
in disbelief.

"There's lots of cool stuff to see in Ireland, Scully.
Leprechauns, Sidhe, banshees, haunted castles, more stuff than I
could see in one trip."

"You left out UFOs," I rolled my eyes.

"I didn't say *that*, but I came her for Ireland's particular
brand of the paranormal," he explained.

"I think Ireland's particular brand of the paranormal originates
from one too many pints of Guinness, Mulder," I laughed.

"Well, I haven't seen anything yet, but I have heard my share of
very interesting stories in the pubs."

"I'm sure you have, Mulder. Someone new who is eager to hear
their stories, what more could they ask? How many rounds did
they hit you for?"

He pursed his lips and looked everywhere but at me, "Um, you
never said what you were doing here, Scully," he avoided my
question.

"I should think that would be fairly obvious, Mulder."

"Not in Ireland, Scully, here at Balla Dearbh Baidh?"

I couldn't help laughing at Mulder's pronunciation.

"I'd like to hear you do better," he challenged me.

"I'm visiting Balla Dearbh Baidh because the landlady at my B and
B told me about it." My Irish Gaelic wasn't perfect, but I had
Mulder beat hands down.

"Did she tell you about the legend?" He asked, not acknowledging
my superior accent.

She might have said something in passing," I shrugged.

"Well, Scully, it seems that this castle used to be the home of
young lovers named Siobhan and Aidan..."

"It's pronounced Shivaughn, Mulder," I interrupted him.

"What is?" He looked puzzled.

"The girl's name is pronounced Shivaughn."

"When I saw it, it was spelled S-i-o-b-h-a-n," he informed me.

"And it's pronounced Shivaughn," I repeated with emphasis.

"Oh. Well, that certainly is prettier than Syoban," he chuckled
and then proceeded to tell me the legend.

"I know the legend, Mulder," I finally interrupted him.

"Oh, he looked disappointed, but then his face brightened. "So is
That why you came here, Scully, to see your true love?"

"No, Mulder, I came here to see the ruins of an old castle. I
guess the legend adds a little bit of interest to an otherwise
ordinary pile of rubble."

"You're such a romantic, Scully," he rolled his eyes at me.

"On the contrary, Mulder, I think this whole setting is very
romantic and the legend adds to it. But I don't have to believe
that I'll see my true love here to find it romantic do I?"

"No, I guess not," he admitted.

"So," I said taking a deep breath.

"So," he repeated, nodding his head.

"We didn't do a very good job at taking separate vacations, did
we?" I smiled at him.

"Great minds think alike, Scully."

"Yeah, well, fools seldom differ, Mulder," I chuckled.

"Are you enjoying your vacation?" He inquired.

"I am," I nodded, smiling, "It's lovely here."

"Well, it certainly seems to agree with you. You look much better
than you did before you left."

"Thanks, I think, Mulder," I shook my head slowly.

"Can I take you to dinner, Scully?" He offered.

"I look so much better that you want to take me to dinner?" I
raised my eyebrows at him.

"No! I mean...Do you want to go out to dinner or not?"

I have to admit that he was cute when he was flustered. "Sure,
Mulder, that would be nice, but I should go back to the B and B
first. Bobbie would worry about me."

"Bobby?" He raised his eyebrows.

"The landlady at the B and B," I told him.

"Bobbie is a woman?"

"Roberta," I clarified for him.

"So, do you want to ride doubles?" Mulder asked when I'd
retrieved my bike.

"Oh, I don't know , Mulder." I didn't think it was such a good
idea.

"C'mon, Scully," he pleaded. "You can sit on the handlebars. I
won't have any trouble seeing over you."

"I don't think making fun of my height is a good way to convince
me, Mulder," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Aw, c'mon, Scully, it'll be fun," he gave me his best puppy dog
eyes.

Damn him and his eyes too! Why could I never say no to either of
them?

"If we get stopped by the constable, you have to deal with the
consequences," I warned him.

"I'll take my chances," he laughed as he straddled the bike to
hold it steady for me.

It had been a long time since I had ridden doubles on a bike and
my center of balance had apparently shifted. In order to keep my
balance, I had to hang more of my ass over the handlebars than I
was comfortable with.

If your legs were longer, you could reach the bolts on the
wheel," Mulder kindly pointed out.

I glared at him over my shoulder and then firmly planted my hands
on his wrists, making sure my fingernails dug into the tender
flesh on the undersides of his wrists.

"Ow, Scully!" He complained.

"Since my legs can't reach the bolts, I have to hang on tightly,
Mulder," I explained to him dryly, relaxing my grip slightly.

"Okay! Sorry, Scully," he attempted to apologize. "Sheesh, when
did you stop being able to take a joke?"

"When I got tired of you making fun of something that I can't
change," I informed him. "I don't tease you about your nose."

"What's wrong with my nose?"

"I could get there faster walking, Mulder," I pointed out,
ignoring his question.

After pushing off, he pedaled up the path that led to the road.
The handlebars were very unforgiving, and I anticipated having
bruises on the backs of my thighs the next day. We rode in
silence until we got back to the main road.

"You don't like my nose, Scully?" Mulder finally broke the
silence.

Why had I said anything? Now Mulder would sulk all night. I
usually brush off *his* jabs, but I say one thing and it's the 
end of the world.

"Your nose is fine, Mulder," I sighed.

"Then why did you say that?" He wasn't satisfied.

"Because you made me mad."

"Sorry, Scully. I was just kidding, you know," he sounded
apologetic.

"You're always 'just kidding', Mulder," I reminded him.

"I thought you liked my jokes." I could tell he was pouting
without seeing his face.

"I like the occasional joke, Mulder, but you joke so much of the
time I never know when to take you seriously," I explained. "And
I'm sorry, Mulder, I shouldn't have hurt your feelings just
because I was mad at you."

"That's okay, Scully, and I'm sorry I hurt your feelings too."

"So, Mulder, where are you taking me for dinner?" I changed the
subject.

"Um...I dunno. I've just been eating at where I've been staying.
Right now I'm staying at a place called Tierney's. Do you want to
eat there?"

"Sure," I agreed, not mentioning that I'd already eaten there
today.

As I spoke we crested a small hill. Approaching from the other
direction, about 100 yards away, was the constable, on his
bicycle. Mulder chuckled behind me. Just as I feared,
he flagged as down. As Mulder stopped the bike, I felt my cheeks
grow hot.

"Afternoon," the fiftyish constable nodded. He was sweating and
his face was flushed from the exercise. Judging from the way
he was breathing, he needed to get out on his bike more often.
Granted, the grey wool sweater he wore as part of his uniform,
probably made for quite a warm ride.

"Hello," I smiled.

"Constable," Mulder greeted him.

"Do you mind me asking where you're coming from?" He inquired
pleasantly.

"Balla Dearbh Baidh," I told him.

"You didn't happen to see a pig along the way, did you?"

"A pig?" I repeated in disbelief and Mulder chuckled again.

"It seems that Liam Reilly's sow has decided it was high time to
see a bit of the world," he explained.

"No, sorry, we haven't seen any pigs," Mulder's voice was tight,
I could tell he was trying not to laugh.

"Ah, well. She's probably rooting around in someone's vegetable
garden," he shrugged. Then he turned to look only at me. "You're
up at the rectory, aren't you, miss?"

I nodded.

"Well if you see that slippery devil on your way, have Bobbie
give me a ring, will you?"

"Sure," I agreed.

"See that you don't let her topple off," he nodded towards
Mulder.

"I'll be careful, sir," Mulder told him solemnly.

"Pretty tough consequences, Scully," Mulder laughed once we were
underway again.

"Imagine if, as a police officer all you had to worry about was a
wayward pig," I didn't acknowledge his jab.

"I wouldn't underestimate him, Scully. He knew exactly who you
were."

"I noticed that too," I said distractedly. I was wondering if I
would actually be happy working in a place this simple.

The rest of the ride was fairly quiet, with not a sign of Liam
Reilly's sow, the silence broken only by comments on the
scenery. Even Mulder was in awe of the splendor of the rolling
green hills and the little brooks that occasionally separated them.
Even in this day and age we still saw a couple of cottages with
thatched roofs. Neither of us could imagine what it must be like
to live in one. Hell, Mulder thought that no cable was roughing it.

As we got closer to the rectory, I spent most of my energy trying
to ignore the growing ache in the back of my legs. When we turned
into the rectory's gravel drive I saw the screen door open to let
Bobbie out onto the porch. She stood with her hands on her hips
as she watched us approach. It reminded me of being in trouble
when I was a teenager, how my mother would stand on the porch
waiting for me just like this whenever I was late. As we got 
closer, though, I could see that Bobbie wasn't angry, just 
curious.

Mulder stopped the bike a few feet from the porch and helped me
off of the handlebars. Bobbie watched our every move, looking
less puzzled and more amused.

"Bobbie, this is Fox Mulder," I introduced them. Taking the bike
with him, Mulder reached out to shake Bobbie's hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mulder," Bobbie smiled broadly as she
shook his hand.

"Just Mulder, please, Bobbie, and the pleasure is all mine," he
returned her smile.

"Let me take the bike and put it back in the shed, Mulder," I
said reaching for it.

"I'll do it, Scully," he offered.

Once Mulder had rounded the corner of the building Bobbie was all
over me.

"That's your partner?"

"Yes, Bobbie."

"You never mentioned that he was so handsome," she grinned at
me.

"Yeah, well, don't tell him that, it'll just go to his head," I
warned her.

"And the women don't flock around him?"

"I didn't say that, Bobbie, I just said he wasn't involved
with anyone."

"Well obviously not for lack of opportunity. I wonder if there
might be another reason," she wondered coyly.

"Bobbie, please don't tell him your theory. I would just die
from embarrassment."

"Oh, fine, I'll not embarrass you. But where on earth did you
run into him?"

"At the castle," I muttered.

"No!" She gasped, putting a hand to her heart. "I've never heard
of such a thing.

"Heard of what?" She had lost me completely.

"Actually seeing your true love in the flesh," she whispered.

"Bobbie,--" I was about to explain what Mulder had been doing
there when he reappeared.

"Come inside, you two. Can I get you some tea?" She held the door
open for us.

"Oh, thank you, Bobbie, but I don't really have time. I was just
going to change and then we were going to go out to eat," I told
her.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," she agreed enthusiastically.
"Where are you going?"

"Just to Tierney's," I shrugged, hoping that she wouldn't mention
that I'd already eaten there once today. I was looking forward to
spending time with Mulder, but I didn't want him to misinterpret
why. I could tell from the little knowing smile that she gave me,
that Bobbie had definitely gotten the wrong idea. Why was it that
a woman couldn't want to spend time with a man without there
being some ulterior motive? Thankfully she said nothing about
where I'd eaten lunch.

"You can't have a nice meal in that smoky old inn," she
wrinkled her nose. "You stay here and I'll make your meal."

"No, Bobbie, I don't want you to go to any trouble," I tried to
protest, 'Or say anything that will make me regret bringing
Mulder here,' I added to myself.

"I insist," she stated firmly, taking Mulder by the arm. "Let me
show you around while Dana freshens up." Mulder grinned
over his shoulder at me as Bobbie led him away.

I really would have liked to have had a bath for a couple of
reasons. On the way to Balla Dearbh Baidh I had worked up a
bit of a glow and after the journey back, my poor rear end had
gotten a bit sore. All in all, I would have really appreciated a
good long soak. Since I was terrified of leaving Bobbie alone
with Mulder for too long, though, I would have to forgo the
bath until later. God only know what she might say to him if I
didn't hurry back. So, after quickly washing my face and brushing
my hair, I stripped to my underwear, put on a few dabs of perfume
and changed into slacks and a blouse, and headed back downstairs,
hoping that I had been quick enough to prevent serious damage.

Taking over from Bobbie while she went to make dinner, I took
Mulder outside to show him the garden. If Bobbie had said
anything untoward, Mulder didn't let on. As we strolled we talked
about our respective vacations. Neither of us had any hard and
fast plans. There was still a haunted castle or two that Mulder
wanted to visit and I still needed to get some linen and wool
for my mom, since I had only bought crystal in Waterford. I was
just telling Mulder this when Bobbie caught up with us.

"Linen?" Bobbie interjected. "If it's linen you're wanting, then
you should be planning a trip to Galway."

"Galway? Okay, Bobbie, thanks," I smiled.

"In fact, my friend Fiona runs a B and B there. We have an
association, you know. We get together in the off-season and
compare notes. I'll ring her and see if she has any rooms."

"Bobbie, stop, you don't have to..." I began.

"Dana, Galway is very busy this time of year and I doubt you
could just get a room without a reservation.  It may not seem
like far on a map, but the roads are narrow and winding and you
should stay over. Those roads can be very dangerous at night.
I'll ring Fiona right now," Bobbie turned and hurried back into
the house.

Mulder just grinned at me.

"I guess she means well," I sighed.

"There's just something about you, Scully. People want to take
care of you."

"Yeah, well, I'm a big girl, Mulder, I can take care of myself," I
told him, ignoring the butterflies that had started to flutter in
my stomach at his words.

"That doesn't mean that you can't let someone else do stuff for
you once in a while," he suggested.

"Well, Bobbie's taking care of me whether I want her to or not."

"Resistance is futile," Mulder nodded and I had to agree. Bobbie
was a force unto herself.

"Well, let's go inside and see when I'm going to Galway, Second
of Two," I acknowledged his joke.

"Hey, I'm First of Two," he protested, following me towards the
house.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Mulder," I chuckled.

Bobbie was just finishing up when we came in. We waited patiently
while she said a few final things to her friend.

"The only space she has in the next month is tomorrow night. It's
a good thing I gave her a ring," Bobbie told us once she'd hung
up.

"Thank you, Bobbie. I didn't realize that I would need to stay
the night."

"It's nothing," she said with a wave of her hand. "So, I booked a
room for each of you."

My eyes widened in surprise, "I don't think that Mulder wanted to
go too, Bobbie."

"Oh?" She looked to Mulder for his opinion.

"I wouldn't mind going along for the ride, Scully," Mulder
shrugged. "I don't have anything else planned. Besides how can I
call it a trip to the Emerald Isle if I haven't seen the sun go
down on Galway Bay?"

"If you start singing, Mulder, I'll leave you there," I warned him.
"And you're not dragging me to kiss the Blarney stone either."

"You're no fun, Scully. But don't worry, that'd be too far out of
the way. Besides, I've already been there," he confessed,
sheepishly. Why was I not surprised?

Before Bobbie headed back to the kitchen, I couldn't help
noticing that she was looking very pleased with herself. Mulder
was right, resistance *was* futile.

Over dinner we solidified our plans. Mulder would drive my rental
back to Tierney's and then come back bright and early in the
morning. The trip to Galway would take most of the morning, we
would shop for linen in the afternoon, spend the night, then
drive back the next day.

It was then that I found out why Mulder really wanted to tag
along.

"Would you mind if we swung a bit south on the way home, Scully?
In Galway we'd only be about an hour away from one of the
castles I wanted to visit."

"Glin Castle," Bobbie piped up. She was just bringing us some
coffee. "It's gorgeous, Dana. It's a hotel, actually, but they
give tours as well. Lots of spooky stories if you're interested in
that kind of thing."

"I live for it," I said dryly. Mulder started to give me his puppy
dog eyes again.

"Well, I guess if you're willing to go linen shopping with me..."

"Great!" Mulder exclaimed. "But don't think you can fool me,
Scully. I know how much you love Spooky."

"Whatever, Mulder," I rolled my eyes.

Over a second cup of coffee, I showed Mulder the library.
He immediately found two books on the paranormal in Ireland,
one about myths and legends, the other specifically about the
Sidhe. I hadn't even noticed them when I was looking for
something to read, he was like a moth to a flame.

Bobbie happily agreed to let Mulder borrow both books. He wanted
to talk about some of the legends he had heard about, but even
with two cups of coffee in me, I was having a hard time staying
awake.

"I'm exhausted, Mulder, and I need to have a good soak. After my
trip back on the bike, I'm not going to be able to sit in the car
tomorrow if I don't."

"I could give you a massage if you like, Scully," he grinned and
reached around behind me.

"If you were that concerned about me, you would have given me the
seat," I swatted his hand away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once Mulder was on his way, I started to head upstairs, but Bobbie
stopped me.

"Dana, Wait!" I stopped on the stairs and turned around. "How
can you not see it?" She shook her head.

"See what, Bobbie?" I was giving her nothing.

"Come now, Dana. If there's nothing there, why didn't you tell
him that you'd eaten at Tierney's already today?"

"I wanted to spend some time with him. He's my best friend. If
I'd told him about Tierney's he might have gotten the wrong idea,
just like you did."

"It is so obvious that you are meant for each other, Dana. I'm
surprised that people don't assume that you are a couple. You
radiate coupleness," she gushed.

"Coupleness?" I laughed.

"I'm serious, how much more evidence do you need? I don't think
that anyone has actually seen their true love the way you did."

"Bobbie," I sighed, "That was just a coincidence."

"Dana, love, there are no coincidences in life. You just have
your eyes closed to the connections that already exist. For 
someone who's profession involves searching for the truth, 
you do a bang up job at hiding from it."



Her words sent chills up and down my spine. I had some soul
searching to do--was she right? Could I really be that blind to
what was right in front of me? I was already bone tired, but
somehow I knew it was going to be a long night.

After my nightly ritual of turning down my bed and lighting the
fire, I ran my bath. As I soaked my aching muscles I thought
about what Bobbie had said.

It was true, people were constantly mistaking Mulder and me for
a married couple, but what did that prove? Yes, Mulder and I are
very good friends. If we hadn't developed such a strong
friendship, I don't think our partnership would have lasted, but 
that didn't mean that we're meant for each other.

And, yes, Mulder is an attractive man, I noticed that the instant
I laid eyes on him. Mulder is very attractive actually, I thought
as my mind drifted back to how he'd looked when he'd walked
towards me at the castle; the sweater, the jeans, the few days
growth of stubble. Thinking about it made my heart start to beat
a little faster. Well, what woman's heart rate wouldn't increase at
that image, I argued with myself. None of this meant that I was in
love with him.

It's true that I miss him when we're apart, but I already knew 
why. That's why I was here after all; trying to get a life of my 
own again, unfortunately, I wasn't being very successful.

So what if I was looking forward to spending the next couple of
days with him? We're friends and we haven't seen each other in a
while - well four days, but that's irrelevant. Just because I
liked spending time with my partner didn't mean that I was in
love with him.

I got out of the tub, dried off, banked my fire and got into bed.
As inviting as my bed was, I still tossed and turned for a long
time, having the same debate with myself, over and over.

Instead of getting Mulder out of my head, I was thinking about
him more than I usually did.  But that was Bobbie's fault, if she
hadn't sent me in search of my "true love", I probably would have
never run into him in the first place.  It's not like we have the
same kind of interests; we wouldn't find the same attractions
appealing.  How could I possibly be in love with someone who I
had nothing but work in common with?

I woke with a start, bright sunlight already streaming into my
room. I squinted at the travel clock on my nightstand - 8 o'clock.
Mulder was due in half an hour. Mulder, I thought , my heart
starting to beat more rapidly. I felt my face flushing as I
began to recall a very vivid dream I'd had about my partner. It
wasn't the most explicit dream I'd ever had, but just thinking
about it made my heart race like no other dream had.

In the dream, we'd just kissed, but it wasn't at all like the New
Year's kiss. I could almost feel his lips on mine, his tongue in
my mouth, his hands on my hips, slowly easing...

"Okay, Dana, that's enough," I thought to myself, shaking the
images out of my head. I was already late as it was.

One thing that seven years of working with Mulder had taught me
was how to pack quickly. In fifteen minutes I was downstairs
having scones and tea, relieved that Bobbie was busy with her
other guests. I wasn't up to talking about this true love thing.
So I'd had a dream, so what? I'd just been thinking about all of
this when I fell asleep, that was all. It was only natural that 
I'd dream about it.

After quickly finishing my breakfast, I took my dishes into the
kitchen. When I came back into the dining room, Mulder was there
talking to Bobbie. He must have seen me out of the corner of his
eye, because he turned to me and smiled.

I instantly turned to goo. All he'd done was smile at me; he
must have smiled at me a thousand times before this. So, why,
then were my palms getting sweaty? My cheeks felt like they were
ablaze and my heart was fluttering in my chest so rapidly that I
thought I might faint.

What was it that I had said to Sheila Fontaine about friends and
switches? Well, what ever I'd said, it had just happened to me.
I was standing there in awe of my partner and best friend.The
switch had definitely been flicked.



"Ready to go, Scully?" Mulder was still smiling at me.

"Hmmm?" I was blinking rapidly; my mouth had gone bone dry.

"I said, are you ready to go?" He repeated, sounding somewhat
amused.

"Oh right. Yeah, I'm ready," I said, heading towards the door.

"Um, are you planning to bring your bag?" Mulder
asked after I'd taken a couple of steps in his direction.

"I slept in," I muttered as an excuse for my behaviour before 
I turned around to grab my bag.

"Dana, would you do me a favor, please?" Bobbie spoke up
suddenly.

"Okay?" I shrugged, quite confused.

"I need you to come with me," she said as she herded me off to 
the kitchen.

The door had barely closed behind us when Bobbie practically
pounced on me. "When did it happen?"

"When did what happen?" I was so flustered that I really had no
idea what she was talking about.

"You've realized that you're in love with him. When did it
happen?" She clarified for me.

"About two minutes ago, in the dining room," I confessed.

"Dana, that's wonderful!" She pulled me into a tight hug.

"I don't think it's wonderful," I groused.

"What! Why not?" She pushed me away so she could see my face.

"I was perfectly content having Mulder as my best friend. Now 
I feel like a schoolgirl with her first crush, and it's probably
unrequited, just like it was then."

"Oh no, Dana, you're wrong, Mulder loves you. I can see it in
him, just like I could see it in you," she assured me.

"Then why didn't I notice?"

"Come now, Dana," she chuckled, "You couldn't even see it in
yourself. Why do you think that you'd be able to see it in him?"

"I hope you're right, Bobbie," I sighed. She had a good point,
but I wasn't convinced. Perhaps Mulder's switch hadn't been
flicked yet. Maybe that was why I hadn't noticed.

Reaching into a cupboard, Bobbie pulled out a jar of homemade
jam.

"Give this to Fiona," she said handing me the jar.

"This is the favor you wanted me to do?" I was confused.

"Well, you could tell Mulder what we've been talking about, or we
can say that I promised Fiona a jar of my famous currant jam."

"Your currant jam is famous?" I was surprised.

"It is now," she laughed. "He certainly has addled your brain."

She was right, I was having a hard time thinking straight. After
all, this was quite a shock to my system, realizing that I was in
love with my best friend and partner of seven years. Despite
Bobbie's assurances, I wasn't convinced that Mulder felt the
same way. I hoped it wouldn't take too long for me to find out,
one way or the other. It would be difficult for me to have to get
past this, and go back to being just friends. If I found out that
Mulder didn't reciprocate my feelings I knew that I'd be able to
put this all behind me, I just hoped I wouldn't end up making a
fool out of myself in the mean time.

When Bobbie and I walked back into the dining room, Mulder was
waiting patiently for us.

"I've already put your bag in the car," he informed me as he held
out the car keys for me.

"I think you should drive, Mulder," I told him.

"Why?" He looked puzzled. He knew that 'the man' always driving
was one of my pet peeves.

"Well, like I said, I slept in and I'm still feeling a bit
dopey," I fibbed.

"Okay, Scully, if that's what you want," he agreed as we headed 
outside.

As we walked towards the car, I felt Mulder's hand settle on the
small of my back, sending a jolt right through me. He touched me
there all the time, but it had never had *that* effect on me
before. 

"You can sleep in the car if you like." I could feel his breath
against my ear as he leaned in to speak softly to me. When I turned
to answer him, his face was only inches from mine.

"Um, I think I'd like to stay awake and enjoy the scenery," I
replied quietly.

"It is breathtaking," he agreed, except he was talking about the
scenery outside of the car, I was planning to enjoy the view on
the inside. I couldn't trust myself to fall asleep, anyway. I
had no idea what I might say or do.

Once we were on our way Mulder began to chat about Bobbie, and
how sweet she was. Then he began to comment on how friendly the
Irish were in general. Apparently he didn't notice my one word
answers, because he kept right on talking, telling me about the
various places he'd visited, and all of the interesting people
he'd met. I must have finally stopped answering him altogether, 
because he turned to me, looking nonplussed.

"Are you okay, Scully?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Why?"

"You're just quiet, that's all."

"Just a little tired, Mulder."

"I thought you slept in?"

"Because it took me awhile to get to sleep. I guess that coffee I
drank after dinner caught up with me," the lies were flowing off
of my tongue like honey.

"I'm not bugging you, am I?"

"Not at all, Mulder. You're being very entertaining."

He laughed, "I don't think you've ever accused me of that before."

"Well, I guess you've never really talked about anything except
cases before. You're just talking about normal stuff, I like it."

"Normal stuff?" He chuckled.

"Yes, normal stuff," I repeated, not really knowing how to
explain myself. I turned to look back at the road. As we rounded
one of the sharp corners that Bobbie had warned us about, a herd
of sheep appeared in front of us. Slamming on the brakes, Mulder
reached out to brace me with his arm. He had managed to stop
just short of the sheep and the seatbelt had held me securely, but 
I really liked the feeling of Mulder's arm restraining me much
better.

"You okay?" He sounded concerned.

"I'm okay," I assured him. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, too," he said, reaching up to brush a strand of
hair off of my face. I just sat there staring at him; I think my
mouth might have been hanging open. "I'm sorry, Scully. I should
have been paying closer attention," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Mulder. One of the hazards of the road
here," I smiled. "You couldn't have known it was going to happen,
and besides, there was no harm done."

"I was just scared that I'd hurt you, Scully. You must know that
I can't stand it when you're hurt, never mind if I've caused it."
While we waited for the sheep to cross, he put the car into park.

"Mulder, I know that you would never knowingly hurt me," I
reassured him and then a thought crossed my mind that made me
laugh.

"What?" Mulder looked confused.

"I guess you can't say the same about me."

"Scully, you stopped me from ruining my entire life. I'm not
sure if I've ever really thanked you sufficiently for that." As
he spoke he picked up my hand. I hoped he wouldn't notice that
it was trembling.

"Of course you have, Mulder, many times." This wasn't the first
time we had talked about this. "Mulder?"

"Mmm Hmm," he was still looking at my hand.

"The sheep are gone."

"Oh, right," he said, putting the car back into drive. From that
point on he took the corners a little more slowly.

I relaxed significantly after that and was able to join into the
conversation more like my old self. Mulder assumed the adrenaline
rush from our near miss had woken me up, and I just let him go on
assuming. As our excursion continued, I was slowly beginning to
believe that Bobbie might be right about Mulder, but I needed a
lot more evidence before I could be sure. I wondered if he could
tell that every time he smiled at me, I nearly melted; or if he
noticed that I had laughed at more of his jokes in that one car 
ride than in the past seven years combined.

The bed and breakfast that Bobbie had arranged for us was not
actually in Galway proper, but a little to the east. We arrived 
shortly after noon, and as we pulled into the driveway the most 
stunning woman I'd ever seen opened the front door to see who had 
arrived. Her hair was red, like mine, but she had flowing curls 
that cascaded down her back. Her skin was like fine porcelain, 
and her features seemed like they'd been sculpted by a master. 
Her eyes were a shade of green I'd never seen before, almost the 
color of the surrounding hills.

"You must be Dana and Mulder," she greeted us when we got out
of the car.

"And you must be Fiona," Mulder smiled, reaching for her hand.

"Let's get you settled quickly so you can get to the shops," she
smiled as she shook my hand. "I'm assuming you'll be having your
lunch in town. If not, though, I'd be more then happy to whip 
something up."

"Thanks, Fiona, but I think we *were* planning to eat in town,"
Mulder told her graciously. Since we hadn't actually discussed
it, he then looked at me to see if I agreed. I gave him a quick
smile to let him know that his decision was fine with me.

"Good, that's settled," Fiona said firmly. "Oh, Dana, don't you
have some of Bobbie's famous currant jam for me?" She gave me a
little wink.

My cheeks flushed for what must have been the hundredth time that
day. Now Fiona knew my little secret, too. After I retrieved the
jam, Fiona showed us to our rooms. She assured us that we could
deal with the formalities later. So, after we freshened up, she
sent us on our way, with the name of a nice pub and map in hand.

"My God, she's gorgeous," I exclaimed once we'd pulled out of the
drive.

"Fiona?" Mulder asked.

"No, my Aunt Olive," I snorted.

"Well, I've never met your Aunt Olive, but Fiona's alright."

"Alright!? Mulder, I think she must be the most beautiful woman 
in all of Ireland."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Scully," he disagreed with me,
still looking at the road.

"You must have high standards, Mulder," I shook my head.

"The highest," he informed me. "And I prefer blue eyes, Scully."

Had Mulder just said what I thought he'd said? Maybe I was just
hearing what I wanted to hear, but with each passing hour I was
becoming more and more convinced that Bobbie knew a great deal
more about matters of the heart than I did.

Since we were planning to spend the afternoon on foot, we agreed
that we could easily enjoy a pint with our lunch without risking
running afoul of the local constabulary. Mulder found a parking
spot that was fairly close to the shops and to the pub that
Fiona had recommended.

Finding the pub and a booth easily, I quickly glanced at the
menu, which consisted of typical pub fare, and decided on a hot
pot and a half of Kilkenny. Mulder chose stew and a pint of
Guinness. He graciously offered me a sip, but Kilkenny was as
dark as I dared to venture.

"Lots of good vitamins and stuff in it, Scully," he enlightened
me.

"Yeah, I know, and they used to give it to nursing mothers, but I
think I'll stick with my ale."

"You don't know what you're missing, Scully," he grinned.

"I'll take my chances," I laughed.

"How's the hot pot?" He asked conversationally.

"Pretty good, actually. How's your stew?" I asked politely.

"Excellent! Here try some," he offered and before I could protest
he had his fork at my lips. My mouth seemed to open of its own
accord and my eyes had locked onto his. When my lips closed around
the fork, he slowly removed it. His gaze dropped to my mouth.

"Oops," he chuckled, reaching to wipe what I assumed to be a bit
a gravy off of my lip. "Sorry."

"It *is* good, Mulder," I concurred after I'd swallowed.
"Thanks."

I was racking my brain. Had Mulder and I always behaved like
this, or was this as new as it felt to me?

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as we visited several
different shops that offered linen. I didn't buy anything until 
we had looked at them all, and then we went back to the one that 
I had liked the best. It offered gorgeous Damask linen 
tablecloths and napkins, handkerchiefs, monogrammed while you wait, 
linen sheets, and the most beautiful little christening gowns. I 
was admiring the lace on the hem of one when I felt Mulder come up
behind me.

"It's too bad we couldn't have had one of these when Matthew was
christened," I said wistfully.

"A dress? For a boy?" Mulder didn't sound impressed.

"Traditionally both sexes wear gowns for the christening,
Mulder," I informed him as I turned around.

"Well, you're the expert on the traditional stuff, Scully, so
I'll take your word for it," he deferred to me.

"Look at these sheets, Mulder," I'd move on to another display.
"They're expensive, but you know what? I think I'm going to buy
them anyway," I said decisively. "You only live once, right?"

"Well, not according to the Hindus and Buddhists, Scully," Mulder
put in his two cents.

"Well, maybe in my next life I won't be able to afford them," I
smiled.

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't buy them, Scully. I'm just a
little surprised, that's all."

"Because I'm buying expensive sheets?" I laughed.

"No, I know that you like the good stuff, Scully. I just had you
pegged as a silk sheet kind of girl."

"I like my sheets crisp," I informed him and then I lowered my
voice, "Besides, silk sheets are too slippery. I prefer something
with a little more grip, personally."

As I moved on to look at the tablecloths, I left Mulder standing
there, apparently not able to come up with a quick comeback.

As I tried to decide between the rose pattern and the silk band
for my mother, I felt Mulder's hand on the small of my back
again, flooding me with heat. One small touch from him and I was
practically on fire.

"I think your mom would prefer the roses," he whispered in my
ear. When I looked up, his face was again mere inches from mine.
His eyes seemed to be searching mine, as if he was looking for 
the answer to a question that he couldn't bring himself to ask.

"That's what I thought, too," I said softly. The weight of
evidence in my favor was almost overwhelming, but I was still
worried that I was seeing only what I wanted to see. I needed
something more than innuendo.

After having a set of monogrammed handkerchiefs made for everyone
in the family, even talking Mulder into a set, I picked out some
sheets and pillowcases for myself. Then I chose two tablecloths
with matching napkins, a scroll pattern for myself and the roses
for my mom. We had spent almost two hours in the store and when
we left I felt like I had done my part to boost the Irish economy.

By the time we got back to Fiona's, it was after five. She was
just about to serve tea, and insisted that Mulder and I join her
and her husband. During the course of the light meal that
consisted of tea and small sandwiches, we learned that Fiona's
husband Sean was a barrister, barely out of school. They only
planned to run the B and B until he was established, then they
planned to start their family.

"But enough about us," Fiona chided herself. "How was your trip
to the shops?"

"Wonderful!" I gushed. " I found everything I wanted and more."

Mulder nodded in agreement, giving us his best "no word of a
lie" face.

"Shut up, Mulder," I laughed, Fiona and Sean soon joining me.

"You picked a beautiful day to visit Galway," Fiona noted still
smiling broadly. "And since you're only spending the one day
here, as soon as your done with your tea, you should be heading
out so you don't miss the sunset."

"Is it really that spectacular?" I was a little doubtful.

"Well, you're probably asking the wrong person. I'm probably a
wee bit biased, but I'll just say the song was written with good
reason," Fiona assured me.

So, having finished our tea, Fiona packed us off into the car
again; Mulder driving and me navigating with Fiona's map.

A park had been established on one side of Galway Bay, with a
boardwalk and benches for the sunset admirers. The parking lot
was almost half full when we got there.

When we had been in the built-up downtown area, I had forgotten
that Galway was right on the ocean. But here in the park the fresh
ocean air surrounded us. I was glad I had taken Fiona's advice and
worn a sweater, because even in June, the breeze off of the ocean
made it quite cool.

The usually turbulent Atlantic was fairly calm that day, with only 
the occasional whitecap standing out on the expanse of the 
blue-green water. Several small fishing boats were slowly making 
their way back towards the pier, being replaced by pleasure crafts
presumably heading out to take in the sunset from a different
vantage point.

It amazed me that the ocean seemed to smell exactly the same to
me here as it had in every other place that I had encountered
it. Apparently, not even the varying temperatures and aquatic life
had an appreciable effect. Breathing in deeply, I let all of
the memories that were triggered by that smell flood through me.
Even though they weren't all fond memories, I was still left
with a feeling of peace; it felt incredible.

After strolling in silence for a while as we took in all of the
sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded us, I was surprised 
to feel Mulder's hand take hold of mine. My hand felt so cool
against his, but it quickly grew warm as his large hand
enveloped mine.

He held my hand tenderly, almost warily, as if he was waiting to
see how I'd react. This was the sign I'd been waiting for from
him. It was all I could do not to squeeze his hand with all
of my might, instead I just barely increased my grip, letting him
know that I approved. He must have noticed because his hand
immediately closed firmly, almost possessively, around mine.

My heart leapt in my chest.

I wanted to say something; to tell him how I felt. But I couldn't
seem to find the right words. And even if I had found them, the
lump that had taken up residency in my throat would have
prevented me from speaking anyway.

Mulder stopped walking and turned to face me, taking hold of my
other hand as well.

"When did it happen, Scully?" He asked me softly.

"What?" My voice cracked as I tried to speak through my
constricted throat.

"When did you realize that you were in love with me?" He asked me
gently. It might have sounded egotistical said any other way or by
anyone else, but when Mulder asked me that question, it was with
a sense of wonder.

My mouth moved, I was trying to say something, to tell him, but
my brain was overwhelmed and I couldn't make a sound.

Putting a finger to my already silent lips, Mulder spoke softly
to me again, "I'll go first. I'll tell you when I first knew that
I was in love with you, okay?"

I nodded slowly, not being sure if I was going to be able to hear
him through the pounding in my ears.

"I realized that I was in love with you the first time I thought
I'd lost you," he admitted.

I felt my eyes widen in surprise. "Why didn't you say anything?" 
I asked in a stunned whisper.

"Initially, because I could tell that you didn't feel the same
way. Then, Scully, if you think about it, I did tell you. At
first, I joked around with you, pretty high school, I know," he
smiled. "Then, I tried to make you jealous - more high school. Then
I even came right out and told you that I loved you."

"I thought...I thought," I sputtered.

"Shh," he put a finger to my lips again. "I thought kissing you
on New Year's Eve might trigger something. I had practically
given up, Scully, until this morning. You started looking at me
differently, reacting to me differently. I thought maybe it had
finally happened. Am I right?"

I could only nod, his confession had stunned me.

"What happened? Why now, Scully?"

Taking a deep breath I tried to explain it to him. "I guess we
can thank Bobbie. She says that I've been in love with you for
a long time, I just didn't know it."

"So what changed? What made you realize?"

"Bobbie wouldn't let up. She said it was a sign that I saw you in
person at Balla Dearbh Baidh and I was hiding from the truth."

"I knew there was something I liked about that woman," Mulder
smiled. "But you didn't believe her, did you?"

I shook my head, "Not until this morning."

"What happened this morning?" He cocked his head.

"You smiled at me," I told him.

"Damn! Why didn't I try that sooner?" He laughed. "C'mon, Scully,
there has to be more to it that."

"Well, I guess it might have something to do with the dream I had
last night," I confessed, feeling my cheeks grow hot.

"Oh yeah?" His voice had become somehow richer and deeper. "What
was this dream about?"

"Well, we kissed, and it was really good," I told him,
my breathing becoming shallow.

"Like this?" He asked as he leaned in to kiss me. God, no, not
like this I thought as his tongue sought entrance to my mouth,
this was infinitely better than the dream. As it deepened,
our hands parted and mine began to travel up his chest, finally
settling around his neck. I stood on my tiptoes trying to gain
deeper access to his mouth. His hands were firmly holding my
hips.

Our tongues meeting and lightly caressing sent a shudder straight
through me. I was still standing on my tiptoes, but Mulder was
bearing most of my weight, with my arms around his neck and his
hands on my hips. And it was a good thing, because I don't think
I could have stood on my own.

I could feel his body heat through his shirt and my sweater. As
his tongue explored my mouth further, I tried to press myself up
against him, wanting to feel his body against mine. But he held
me firmly, not granting me the contact that I craved so
thoroughly.

I was on the verge of squirming and whimpering in displeasure
when some giggling filtered through the roaring in my ears. I
pulled out of the kiss, my breathing labored and laid my head
on his chest. Mulder stroked my hair and kissed the top of my
head as our breathing returned to normal.

"Thank you, Mulder," I said softly. "I had completely forgotten
where we were."

"It took every ounce of my willpower to do that, Scully," he
laughed softly, "Let's just say that I never envisioned having to
hold you back."

"Well, I do appreciate it. Even kissing like that is far beyond
what I'm usually comfortable with in public," I laughed.

"We are a little late for the Celtic fertility ritual," Mulder
pointed out.

"My ancestors may have been all for making love in the fields for
the sake of their crops, but I have to admit, Mulder, I much
prefer a bed."

"With grippy sheets," he added with a sly grin.

"Very grippy sheets," I nodded, returning his grin.

Taking my hand again, we continued our stroll along the
boardwalk. Soon the sun began to sink into the horizon, as if its
tremendous heat was being quenched by the vastness of the ocean,
causing  a chill to settle into the air instantly. Mulder let go 
of my hand and slipped his arm around my waist instead, pulling 
me closer to him.

That sense of belonging that I had felt when I first arrived in
Ireland had evolved into a sense of completion. This pilgrimage
to the land of my ancestors had led me to discover a bond that
I had with this land. Perhaps this discovery had given me the
security to open myself up to what had been buried within me
for so long. I was finally able to see and feel the connections
that had always been there--my connection to this beautiful
island and to this wonderful man. In a way I would have never
imagined, I had accomplished what I came to Ireland to do;
I had discovered my life.


end