Title:  The Nose

Author: Angel LeeAnn

Rating: PG

Category: MSR, AU

Summary:  Scully ponders over the origins of Mulder's nose.

Disclaimer:  I tried to steal them, but Chris Carter took them back and gave me a lecture.  So now, I must admit defeat.  They don't belong to me.  They never have and they never will.

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Warning:  This story is based on the assumption that Mulder is Jewish (David Duchovny has claimed that Mulder is, especially since DD himself is Jewish/Scottish in real life).  I mean no offense to anyone.

Dedication:  This is dedicated to a dear FF.net member, Keys3303.  She needed a little cheer-me-up after reading Remember You from the TLW fandom.  Here you go, buddy:

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THE STORY:

She gazed, mystified, as the rain gently cascaded along the window causing the glass to reflect the water droplets as though each drop were a tiny crystal.  She was puzzled by her enchantment to the natural and common phenomenon, but continued watching nevertheless.

Her ears perked up at the sound of softly falling footsteps and she turned, her focus shifting from the window to her companion.  "Did I wake you?"

"Yes," his voice was laced with scratchy sleep.  "But I don't mind."  He padded over, joining her on the forest green loveseat and wrapping his arms around her.  He made the pretense of watching the storm, but was quickly snoring quietly in her ear.

Dana smiled at her sleeping husband, snuggling deeper into his side and up against his chest.  She sighed with content and found herself drawn away from the rain in exchange for the slumbering man (a worthy switch).

He had a strong jaw line and a handsome bone structure.  His straight chestnut hair fell into a wave at the bangs and a lock fell stubbornly over his forehead.  He had pouty lips: his lower on especially full and tempting.  He was – by most women's standards – an eye-catching man.

Then she focused on his longish, crooked nose.  It wasn't unattractive.  In fact, it distinguished him.  What confused her were its origins.

She studied it more closely; caressing the tip of her finger along its shape and remembered a case they had in their fourth year together.  In the file system, Mulder had nicknamed it "Kaddish".  Kaddish is the Jewish mourner's prayer.

She recalled what Curt Brunjes, the neo-Nazi owner of the print shop, had asked of her partner: "You work for them, too, don't you?"

Mulder had asked: "Who?"

"You know who," Brunjes had replied with unhidden contempt.  "You look like you might be one yourself."

Looking back on it, Dana remembered various things Mulder had done and said during that case.

When they had gone to Jacob Weiss's house, Mulder had been livid by the pamphlet that Weiss had shown them.  On its cover had been a crude hook-nosed caricature and a title that read "How AIDS Was Created by the Jew".

Dana, too, had bee perturbed, but hadn't felt any personal resentment towards it for it was not aimed at her or her people.  She had figured Mulder felt the same, but she had seen the raw anger in his eyes as he seethed at the pamphlet.

When they had explained to Brunjes that there were rumors that Isaac Luria had risen from the grave to extract revenge on the Nazi youth who had killed him, Brunjes had exclaimed: "What kind of Jew trick is this?"

"A Jew did it two thousand years ago," Mulder had retorted with – what sounded like – a mixture of anger and…pride.  Then, while leaving the shop, Mulder had said beatifically: "Bless you."

Later, they returned to the print shop.  This time it was a crime scene for Brunjes had been murdered.  Mulder had skimmed the cover of the anti-Semitic pamphlet before crumpling it in his fist.  "A man on a mission," he had spat.  "Look at all the energy he spent spreading his hatred."

Could it be that her intense husband was a descendent from the Jews?  It didn't bother Dana one bit despite the fact she had grown up a strict Catholic.  What troubled her was the fact that she didn't know.  He knew she was a cross of Irish and Polish.  Yet, she didn't know his heritage.

And it was bugging her.

Dana tapped him on the nose numerous of times until he grumbled.  "Hey, Spooky," she whispered.  "Wake up."  She gave his mouth a peck.  "Fox Mulder, your wife wants your attention."

He slowly, painfully cracked open his eyelids.  "What?"

"Are you Jewish?"

There was a baffled silence as he contemplated what she asked him over in his foggy mind.  When her questioned registered, he knitted his eyebrows together.  "What?  Why?"

"I was studying your features and couldn't help but wonder about your nose."

He looked offended.  "What?  You've got a problem with my nose?"

She smiled coyly, shaking her head in amused wonderment.  "No, of course not.  In fact, I find it sexy."

"Then what's the problem?"  He cleared his throat and snuggled further into the couch cushions.  "You woke me up because you were curious about my nose?"

"I asked if you were Jewish."

"Do you mean have I ever practiced the religion or did my ancestors flee Jerusalem to escape slavery?"

"Well…both."

Mulder sighed and unconsciously touched his nose.  "My mother's parents perished at Auschwitz.  They probably rolled over in their graves the day my mother married my German father."

"So what were you raised as?"

"Nothing.  My father was an atheist and simply refused to allow any religion to enter his household.  However, my mother did go to Temple on the weekends my father was away.  She just never took Sam or me with her."

Dana smiled.  "Thank you.  For telling me.  You can go back to sleep now."

Mulder grunted.  "Fat chance now that I'm fully awake."  He tilted her face up to his and gave her mouth a chaste kiss.  "Yet, I can think of something that will knock me out."  He rolled them over so he was hovering above her, his waist between her legs.  "I love you."

She beamed up at him.  "I love you."  Then she kissed him.

THE END

I know it's really short.  But oh well.