DISCLAIMER:  Mulder and Scully and the search for the truth all 
belong to Chris Carter and Co.  I'm just borrowing them.  I 
promise to return them in no worse condition than Chris would.:)
TITLE: HIGH TIDE
AUTHOR: Elizabeth Rowandale (bstrbabs@gmail.com)
RATING: NC-17
CLASSIFICATIONS: SAR, MSR, Casefile, X-File
ARCHIVE: ONLY ON AUTHOR'S OWN WEBSITE UNTIL STORY IS COMPLETED.
TIMELINE: Takes place 11 months after "Water's Edge", continuing 
in that universe.  This universe turns AU sometime after "all 
things" and before "Requiem".

TRIVIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE:  The conception of Charles Scully and his 
family that appears here is based on the one I created years ago 
for the story "The Ashes That Remain" in my Ashes series, with 
the exception of the brief meeting that took place between 
Charles and Mulder in that story--that meeting did not happen in 
the HT universe.  It's completely unnecessary to have read those 
stories before this one, but if you want the back story I created 
for Charlie's family and his relationship with Scully, that's 
where you'll find it.:)


HIGH TIDE
by
Elizabeth Rowandale (bstrbabs@gmail.com)
Copyright (c) 2004


Chapter 2:


"I hate to talk like this
I hate to act as if
There's something wrong that I can't say
I have this dream at night
Almost every night
I've been dreaming it forever
It's easy to remember it

It's always cold
It's always day
You're always here
You always say
I'm all right
I'll be ok"
                  --"Keep Myself Awake", Black Lab




Scully stretched the rubber band around her hair, twisting it 
into a knot at the base of her neck.

"So..." she continued, for the benefit of the small group of 
students awaiting her words, "I want to finish this unit by the 
end of next week if we can pull that off.  After that, Agent 
Hasbro will be filling in for many of my classes, while I'm 
involved with testimony at a trial."

There was a moment of quiet while Scully added a few instruments 
to her rolling tray and pushed it closer to the cadaver.

"Now..."

Sharon Mueller, the shyest of Scully's students, with her mousy 
dishwater hair and clunky black-rimmed glasses, said softly, "The 
trial...would that be...an old X-File, Dr. Waterston?"

Scully stopped mid-action, lowered a scalpel to the tray.  She 
hooked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and gave her 
student full eye contact.  "Not exactly, Ms. Mueller, no.  This 
trial is related to a case I worked while assigned to the X-Files 
division, yes, but it was never clearly established as an X-File.  
I don't believe there was anything to warrant that 
classification."

"Was this while Agent Mulder was...dead...?" ventured Donald 
McFadden.

Scully breathed out softly through her nose, uncomfortably aware 
of the constant cold of the autopsy bay and the early hour of the 
morning.  She pulled off her latex gloves and took a step away 
from the cadaver and toward the gathering of would-be agents.  
"Okay.  I guess I haven't done this yet with this class."  She 
folded her arms across her chest.  "I'm sure you all know I used 
to be Agent Scully of Mulder and Scully of the basement office 
and the X-Files.  The Agent Scully of the endless rumors, the Ice 
Queen nickname, the Mrs. Spooky nickname, and many other 
nicknames out of line for this venue.  I worked the X-Files for 8 
years.  I saw some things you could never imagine prove to be 
reality.  I saw many many other things prove to be elaborate 
hoaxes and endlessly perpetuated falsehoods.  I am a scientist.  
I have never ceased to view any and all of my experiences on this 
job through the lens of science.  Agent Mulder is less scientific 
in his approach, but no less cautious or responsible.  I no 
longer work the X-Files.  Neither does Agent Mulder.  They are 
very competently run by Agent Gannon Michaels and Agent George 
Brennen.  Agent Mulder is very much alive.  He is not a clone, a 
fake, or a long lost twin.  No one had plastic surgery, and no 
one was on the run from the mafia.  Agent Mulder was gone for 
private reasons.  He is now back for personal reasons.  The trial 
that is about to begin concerns the serial murder charges of one 
James Maley, about which I'm sure you were kept abreast in the 
papers.  And, yes, before you ask, I was one of his intended 
victims.  And to keep your eyes on the autopsies and not 
straining to see my arm every time I push up my sleeve before 
pulling out the intestines, everyone have one good look."  Scully 
pushed up her right sleeve and held out her forearm.  Most of the 
students looked away, stealing only shy, embarrassed glances.  
Two or three stared openly.  Standard mix for a new group.  "Now, 
if there's nothing else, we have a body to dissect..."

Scully reached out for a fresh pair of latex gloves, then paused 
when a voice from the group called out, "*Were* you Mrs. Spooky?"

She froze, then turned to see Jacob Stringer's dark eyes firmly 
fixed upon her, his tall thin frame placing him a head above the 
others.  "That, Mr. Stringer, is none of your business.  But 
since I have had enough rumors bounce off these walls to last me 
a lifetime, and within months many of you will be working with 
those very agents who perpetuate those rumors, the answer is 
Agent Mulder and I worked the X-Files as partners.  Now, we live 
together.  That is all you need to know.  So, if you would all 
kindly gather around this table, I will introduce you to the 
encyclopedia of information you can extrapolate from the study of 
a gunshot entry wound."


*****


She finished her last class later than she would have liked.  She 
got a phone call from Gannon Michaels over yet another detail of 
the trial preparations and agreed to meet with him about it in 
the morning.  She didn't want to think about Maley today.  She 
was short on sleep.  She was short on enthusiasm for the 
righteous conviction of a murderous criminal.  Her arm was still 
sore from last week's injection and the nausea was lasting longer 
now.  The levels of the vaccine were cumulative in her system, 
and it was getting hard to eat for the first few days after each 
dose.

Scully switched off all but the yellow glowing desk lamp in her 
cramped office to ease the strain on her eyes.  She rested her 
forehead on her grade book for a long minute before she pulled 
back up and glanced at her watch.  Almost time to go.  Charlie 
would be on the ground soon.  Something to look forward to.  
Something good.  But just five more minutes...

She let her head fall back to rest on her arm.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty."

The gentle voice startled her awake.  "Jesus.  Mulder?"

His warm hand smoothed her hair, caressed her sleep-flushed 
cheek.  "It's okay.  You fell asleep on your desk."

"Oh, God, you're kidding me.  What time is it?"

"Time to go, but we're not late.  It's okay."

She was breathing too hard, disoriented.  She hated sleeping away 
from her bed, hated the sense of the surreal.  She closed her 
eyes and forced a deep breath, willing blood to surge through her 
limbs.

Mulder laughed softly, curious.  "You okay, Scully?"

She nodded.  "I'm fine.  Just more tired than I thought, 
apparently."  She tried a wry smile, mainly for Mulder's benefit.

"You eating all right?" he asked, a familiar darkness passing 
behind his eyes.

"Aside from having to skip lunch today for an extra class, just 
fine.  Really."

"Yeah?' 

"Yeah.  There's a breakfast bar in my briefcase, I'll eat it on 
the way to the airport."

He sank down to sit on his heels beside her.  "Well, good.  In 
that case...  Hey."  The word was a soft caress carried on a 
gentle smile.  An intimate greeting.  She felt something tight 
uncoiling within her.  A soft smile found its way to her own 
lips.

"Hey," she whispered back.

She felt the heat of his lips as they pulled toward hers.  Eleven 
months, and the delicious thrill at the moment of contact had not 
lessened.  She could still taste the rain of the first kiss in 
each succeeding moment she met his lips.  One soft kiss, then 
another.  Then her fingers were lacing through the fine hairs at 
the nape of his neck and drinking in the warmth of his skin in 
the cold basement in all the ways she had been denied all those 
years.  And his long fingers were beneath her lab coat on her 
ribcage and his palm cradling the back of her neck and everything 
else was melting away.  Too long for that, lately, too.  Too many 
tired days of falling asleep early while Mulder was still at the 
computer.  She wanted to stay awake tonight.

When they broke away, she didn't speak.  Eye contact was enough, 
always had been.  Soft hazel and thick lashes and more fine lines 
than she remembered in her mind's eye.  Somewhere in her heart, 
he would always be the young man in the gold-rimmed glasses who 
had greeted her with contempt one sunny morning and shared a 
child's joy finding orange X's on the pavement one rainy night.

"How was your day?" she whispered.

"Caught a bad guy."

She lifted an eyebrow.  "I thought you were here researching 
today."

"I was.  Found what I needed.  Got a warrant.  Went and caught 
the guy."

"Did you take your partner with you?"

"You're my partner."

"Stop it.  Did you take McKenzie?"

"I agreed to let him tag along, yes."

"Mulder, I think he's a decent agent.  You are giving him a 
chance, aren't you?"

He gave her his best charming smile.  "Would you expect any less 
of me?"

Scully narrowed her eyes.  "Mulder...this isn't going to go like 
the last partner, is it..."

"I'm behaving myself, Scully."

"Unh-huh..."

He clasped her hand and pulled her to her feet.  "Come on, G-
woman.  Let's go get your brother."


*****


"No, it's United, I'm sure of it.  He said the third sign, but 
I'm betting if he's counting from the street, he can't see that 
one around the corner.  You see that?  So, I bet he's by the 
fourth..."

Mulder braked as a harried traveler cut across the pick-up lanes 
with a precarious stack of loose baggage on top of her one 
rolling suitcase.  "Could be right," he said, scanning the crowds 
of passengers lining the wide sidewalk outside baggage claim.  He 
was searching for red hair.

The traveler was picking up the bags that had fallen off her 
tower near the curb.  Mulder pulled the car slowly forward as the 
way cleared and he returned his attention to the crush of cars.

"There he is!"  Scully cried.

Mulder had barely slowed the car at the curb before she was out 
and on the move.

"Charles!"

Mulder shifted into park and rose from the driver's seat, door 
still half closed in defense against crazed motorists, as the 
reunion scene played out over the top of his car.

"Dana!  Look at you!"

Scully hit her brother like a gale wind and he caught her up in 
his arms, swinging her around, black pumps inches from the 
ground.

Charles was taller than Scully, but not quite up to Bill's, or 
even Mulder's, height.  Charles' orange hair was cropped close, a 
nod to his military lifestyle.  Or maybe an older habit from the 
days Captain Scully had run the ship.  He was dressed with the 
same conservative class the rest of the Scully clan favored: 
pressed khaki slacks and a herringbone sweater beneath a plain 
black trench coat.

Mulder closed the car door as he watched red hair mix with red 
hair and freckles match freckles.  He moved around the car.

"Charlie," he heard Scully say through a smile, her face still 
half buried in her brother's neck.

Charles laughed warmly, lowering Scully to the pavement, but 
keeping his arms firmly around her.

Scully pulled back to beam up at her brother, then pushed up for 
another tight embrace.

Charles hugged her hard.  "Good to see you, too, Day," he said 
with a tender smile.

Scully let go and turned as Mulder approached.  Partner radar 
never failed.  "Charlie?  I'd like you to meet Fox Mulder.  At 
long last.  Mulder?  This is my baby brother, Charles."

Charles kept his left arm around his sister as he held out his 
right hand toward Mulder.  "The much heralded Fox Mulder.  Good 
to meet you, my man.  Relax, I have nothing in common with Bill."

Mulder couldn't suppress a grin.  "I like him already," he said 
to Scully, who just closed her eyes good-naturedly.  Mulder shook 
Charles' hand, their grips solid and comfortable.  "The elusive 
Charlie.  Good to meet you at last.  I was beginning to think 
Scully was making you up."

"I can see you show him plenty of family pictures," Charles said 
to Scully, and her eyes widened in innocent indignation.

"I do!  I've shown him plenty of pictures of you!  Haven't I--?"

"Yeah, I've heard that before..." Charles clamped a hand over 
Scully's mouth as she continued to protest, and he turned toward 
Mulder as though Scully were not struggling and kicking him.  
"Getting cold in this part of the world!  I'm not used to it.  
Been in the southwest too long."

Mulder started to reply through an incredulous smile when Scully 
broke free of Charles' hand.  "Stop it!" she cried.  "What are 
you, five?  God, you're just as annoying as you ever were."

"Yes, I am.  Are you still as ticklish as you ever were?"

Scully took a sharp step back and held up her open hands in 
warning, eyebrow raised.   "Don't you dare."

Charles faked a step toward her and Scully jerked half a step 
back on reflex, and Charles fell into an affectionate laugh.  
"Relax, I'll wait until we're not parked in a loading zone.  Then 
I'll surprise you."

"In your dreams, Little Boy," she drawled.

"I'll get this for you."  Mulder grasped Charles' small suitcase 
and moved toward the trunk.

Scully pulled open the passenger door and tossed back her hair as 
she moved into the wind.  Mulder slammed the trunk, and looked up 
at Charles hovering nearby.  "Ribcage," Mulder dead-panned.

Scully shut the door, out of ear-shot.

Charles lifted an inquiring eyebrow, a smile lingering in his 
eyes.  "Excuse me?"

"Her ribcage.  Works every time."
 
Understanding dawned, and Charles laughed openly and nodded.  
"Yep.  Always did."

As Mulder sank behind the wheel, Charles Scully settled into the 
back seat of the car.

Charles seemed to be a good guy, easy going.  Dinner showed prospects of 
enjoyable camaraderie.  Scully seemed wonderfully happy.  She 
deserved a comfortable family evening on the town, a brief 
respite from the treadmill of motherhood and work and trial 
preparation and the impending threat of risking her health to 
regain her freedom.

And he wanted to give her that.  So, he ignored the growing cold 
in the pit of his stomach.  It would shout for attention later 
on.


*****


"So, then there I am, and I've gotten Patrick out of the tree and 
on the ground, but my sleeve is just completely locked on this 
branch and I'm kind of dangling by my shirt and I can't reach 
with my other hand to get it loose or to even unbutton my cuff.  
And Patrick doesn't want to climb back up after he just got out, 
and Jamie is just sitting over there on her picnic blanket with 
her headphones on, typing a text message on her cell phone to one 
of her friends--"

Scully shook her head and leaned back from her plate.  "I 
can't...I can't even believe Jamie is twelve now."

"Oh, tell me about it.  Overnight, she went from roller skates 
and Barbie dolls to like this teenager in training or something."

"And Patrick's nine.  Doesn't seem possible."

Charlie clicked his tongue.  "God, Dana, I can't believe how long 
it's been since we've seen each other.  I can't even remember..."  
He tapped his finger on the tablecloth, ticking through months 
and memories.  "I came to Christopher's baptism.  But the kids 
didn't make it because of Jamie's ski trip."

Scully nodded.  "Mm-hmm..."

"And then...when was the last time *I* saw you?"

She sat up straighter, smoothing her napkin and keeping it 
centered on her lap.  She cleared her throat.  "Well...since you 
didn't make it out for Christmas, I would have to say...Daniel's 
funeral."  Her words were slow and almost reluctant, lids hooded.

Charles cringed, fingers curling into a fist.  "Oh, Jesus.  No 
wonder it's good to see you smile."

She kept her eyes on her plate.  Felt Mulder's gaze tickling her 
hairline.  Beneath the table, she crossed her legs, and hooked 
her foot behind Mulder's calf.

"So, how did you get out of the tree?" Mulder asked at last.

Charles grinned.  "Patrick was halfway up and panicking because 
he couldn't get any higher, when Annabelle showed up to meet us 
for lunch and she climbed up and retrieved her big macho husband 
from the tree.  Up and down like a monkey, nothing to it."

Scully smiled softly through a bite of lettuce.  "I can see that.  
She's great."

"Two kids," Mulder said, shaking his head.  "That used to sound 
so normal to me, but now that I've seen the parenting process 
from the inside, I can't imagine handling two at once."

Charles nodded and took another sip of his beer, and something 
about the gesture reminded Scully of her father and family 
dinners in San Diego.  "It's a zoo sometimes. But some things are 
easier.  They occupy each other a certain amount.  They feel 
safer with a babysitter when they're young if they're together.  
Things like that.  I don't know how Mom and Dad handled four of 
us, though," he said with a nod toward Scully.

She swallowed a bite of tomato.  "Well, that brings good and bad, 
too.  Bill and Missy became built-in babysitters at a certain 
point."

"Much to their horror," Charles said with a snorted laugh.

"Well, we didn't exactly make it easy for them."

"Hey, at least I didn't bite!"

"Excuse me?" Mulder chimed in, leaning forward.

Scully closed her eyes and waited for Charles to fill in the 
inevitable reply.

"She was a horrible biter when she was a toddler and even 
preschooler.  Oh my God, she was like a little snippy Chihuahua.  
You steal her toy and she'd bite your ear."

"It was not that bad," she said, turning toward Mulder.  "A few 
times, I may have--"

"A *few*?  You even bit a kid at preschool!  The teacher called a 
conference!"

"Remind me again why I'm happy to see you."

"Actually, Scully, it does sound like you," Mulder said, leaning 
back again, looking for somewhere to stretch his long legs 
beneath the compact table.  He was obviously well amused by the 
entire scenario.

"It sounds like me?"

"Well, you've never been one to hesitate to defend yourself.  I 
mean, you did shoot me."

Charles coughed and reached for his water.  "Wait, you *shot* 
him?"

"Now, wait, that is a long story..."

"Not that long," said Mulder helpfully.  "I wouldn't listen to 
her so she shot me.  Made me more cooperative."

"Mulder!  Charles, he was being given hallucinogenic drugs and 
was about to murder someone else, and I..."

But both men were too busy laughing to follow her story.  In the 
end she cracked a smile herself, shook her head and turned her 
attention back to her dinner.

Mulder pushed back his chair.  "Well, on that lovely note, I'll 
ask you to hold the Scully gossip while I make a quick run to the 
men's room."  His searching gaze reached out across the dinner 
time crowd toward the smokey bar.  "Anyone know which direction 
I'm heading?"

"I think it's around the other side of the bar, by the kitchen 
entrance," Scully said.

Mulder nodded and ventured off.

In the brief quiet following his departure, Scully drew a few 
deep breaths and soaked in the comfortable atmosphere of her 
surroundings.  They were in a neighborhood bar and grille she and 
Mulder had hit for late night dinners once or twice and enjoyed.  
A jazz tune played softly on the overhead speakers, 
indecipherable above the echoes and fragments of conversation, 
but pleasant nonetheless.  Heavy wood tables and chairs and low 
beamed ceilings warmed the texture of the place.  A mix of after 
work executives and middle class families peppered the dining 
area.

And she was here with Mulder and her brother.  She missed 
Christopher, but aside from that, this was a fairly good moment 
to be in.

Charlie's voice pulled her from her reverie.

"So.  All those years you said he was just your partner...?"

She lifted an eyebrow.  "He *was*--Just. My. Partner."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So..."

She drew a careful breath, let her gaze sink to Charlie's 
sweater.  "So...what's on the surface and what's underneath...can 
be two completely different things."

"So, he WASN'T just--"

"By all tangible definitions, he *was* just my partner.  And best 
friend.  Yes."

"Okay.  I got it."

They were quiet for a moment, cleaning the last of the food from 
their plates.  Then Charles said plainly, "I like him, Dana."

She swallowed hard.  "I like him, too."

"He's the one?"

She angled her head slightly gave the slightest lift of her 
shoulder, was surprised by the thickness in her voice.  "He's my 
Mulder.  Always has been."

Charles nodded in silence.  "Then, I love him."

Scully closed her eyes.  Yeah.  It was good to see Charlie.  
"Okay.  My turn to hit the ladies room.  If they bring the check 
while I'm gone, feel free to go ahead and pay it."

"Bite me."

"You sure you want to tempt me?"

She crossed paths with Mulder near the bar.  "My turn," she said 
simply.  And Mulder smiled and drew a gentle hand down her inner 
arm as they passed.

There was a line on the women's side.  By the time Scully emerged 
from the bathroom, the line had stretched through the short 
hallway and back toward the bar.  She slipped her way between 
close-packed bodies.  And just before she broke free of the 
crush, a male figure slammed a bit too hard into her side.  She 
glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of a slick black 
coat with worn blue jeans protruding beneath.  A heavy hat 
obscured the hair.

But she stood immobile for a moment, despite the press for 
movement around her.  Something was...something smelled...  The 
man glanced briefly over his shoulder, not enough to reveal a 
face, then vanished through the exit door at the back of the 
hallway.

She checked her pockets for her ID and her wallet, but all was 
still where it belonged.  She hesitated a moment longer.  Thrown.  
Utterly unsure why the encounter bothered her at all, but she 
could still feel the imprint of the contact along her upper arm 
and hip and the side of her thigh.  She forced herself into 
motion, took the first few hesitant steps back along the curve of 
the bar.

Gooseflesh prickled her arms, despite the waves of heat pulsing 
outward from the restaurant kitchen.

Mulder was already standing beside the table when she returned, 
gathering their coats and gloves.

The check holder lay on the table, receipt already on top.

"There you are," Charlie said, welcoming her back.

Mulder had picked up her trench coat and was holding it up for 
her to slip into.  "Thank you," she whispered.

And her voice was a little off, a little distracted.  And Mulder 
didn't miss it.  His eyes narrowed in concern as he turned his 
back to Charlie, offering a private exchange.  "What's wrong?"

She shook her head.  "It's nothing.  Some...," she gestured 
vaguely over her shoulder, "...weird guy.  Nothing."

He hesitated a moment, trying to read behind her words, but in 
the end he accepted her reply and nodded.  He reached for his own 
coat.

"Can we bring you back to our apartment for drinks?" Mulder 
asked.

Charlie shook his head.  "I'd love to, and I'd love to see the 
little guy, but he's probably asleep by now, right?"

Scully nodded.  "Should be."

"Yeah...and I've got some work still to do tonight before I hit 
that early meeting tomorrow.  I'll take a ride to my hotel, 
though."

"You got it," Mulder said.

Scully hooked her arm through Mulder's and nestled close to his 
warmth as they ventured out into the chill evening.  She told 
herself it was a trick of the light when she imagined the same 
dark-coated figure watching her from the shadows of the far 
street corner as they walked.


*****

(End Chapter 2.  Continued in Chapter 3...)
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