Title: Coeur De La Mer - Part One
Category: TV Shows ยป X-Files
Author: lalapine
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Genre: Romance
Published: 07-20-00, Updated: 07-20-00
Chapters: 1, Words: 10,775
Chapter 1: Default Chapter Title
Title: Coeur De La Mer (Heart of the Ocean)
Authors: Tammy M. Parnell and Anonymous Co-Author
Rating: PG-13
Category: SRC
Keywords: UST/MSR, XF/Titanic crossover
Spoilers: Fire, WOTC, TFWID, Quagmire, One Breath, End Game, Memento Mori
Summary: An unbelievable invention lands Mulder and Scully in deep water
Disclaimer: The are not ours. They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox Television, and the actors who portray them. The feature film, is James Cameron's creation. The characters and situations are used without permission. No infringement is intended.
Coeur De La Mer
by Tammy M. Parnell and Anonymous Co-Author
PART ONE
Present Day
Washington DC
"I hope this doesn't take too long." Dana Scully shuffled in the passenger seat of her partner's Taurus as she looked at the Saturday morning tourists flocking around the Washington Monument. "Who did you say this guy was?"
"Dr. Harold Wockenfuss. He's been studying molecular biology and chemical engineering for over thirty years. He's patented a few inventions along the way, but nothing that really caught on."
"And he called you because...?"
"It's a surprise, Scully." He kept his eyes dutifully on the road, purposely missing THE LOOK he was so accustomed to.
"It's my day off, Mulder. I have a doctor's appointment at 3:30."
He glanced at her quickly. "Are you okay?"
Her tone relented at his concern, and she assured him, "I'm fine. It's just the usual follow-up. But I've had to postpone it twice already because of work, and I really shouldn't miss it again."
He relaxed at her words, thankful no signs of the cancer had returned, as he merged onto the freeway. "It's about a half-hour to the good doctor's lab. If it's a hoax, it shouldn't take too long."
"And if it's not?"
"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what his latest invention was."
She looked at him expectantly.
He winced slightly as he said the words, "He said he invented a time machine."
No answer. He glanced at her hesitantly. She was slowly shaking her head as she stared out the window. Well, at least she wasn't yelling at him-yet.
The rest of the drive went on in silence. When Mulder finally pulled up in front of the old warehouse, Scully broke the quiet.
"This is his lab?" she asked in disbelief.
"He's been having trouble finding funding lately," he explained.
"I'll bet."
Mulder led the way into the dilapidated building. "Dr. Wockenfuss?" he called out.
"In here," a muffled voice responded. The agents walked past cobwebbed equipment and dusty tables to find a fairly clean office with strange gadgets hanging along the walls and sitting on shelves.
"Dr. Wockenfuss. I'm Agent Mulder," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. "And this is my partner, Agent Scully."
The balding man looked up from his microscope to shake Mulder's hand and return Scully's cordial nod. "You wonder why your partner dragged you here, eh?" he observed.
"With all due respect, sir, I fail to see how you could develop the technology to send people back and forth through time. It just isn't possible."
"Ah, but I do have proof, Agent Scully," the gray-haired scientist said mysteriously. "Follow me."
Mulder motioned for his partner to go ahead, and she did so reluctantly, wondering how long it would be before she could go home. Why had she come in the first place? She couldn't help but smile at the memory of Mulder's enthusiasm when he'd knocked at her door that morning. Even though she hadn't known exactly what this was about, she hadn't been able to refuse him. Besides, he'd promised it would only take a couple of hours. And spending time with her partner wasn't the worst way to spend a Saturday.
"This, Agents Mulder and Scully, is BETSY," Dr. Wockenfuss interrupted her thoughts as he proudly pointed to a tall metal box, dials and switches running along the sides. "Isn't she a beauty?"
"What does BETSY stand for?" Scully inquired.
"Oh, it's not an acronym. I named it after my late wife. Shall we give it a try?"
Scully tried to catch her partner's eye, but he was purposely avoiding her glance, pretending to be very interested in the nearby equipment. "How do we test it?" he asked the doctor.
"With one of these little critters here," he answered. He took a small white mouse from a cage of a dozen and put him inside the contraption. Pressing buttons and manipulating switches caused an airtight door to seal the critter inside. "Why don't we send him to England during the time that cats were worshipped? He can make a tasty morsel for some royal feline."
Scully rubbed her temples, glaring at her partner who kept his face from her, himself beginning to wonder why he had dragged them out there in the first place. He smiled in spite of himself. He'd known the reaction he'd get from his partner when he'd mentioned time travel and had been looking forward to a day of teasing her with odd theories and having her shoot them all down with practiced ease. They'd had too many run-of-the-mill cases lately, and he'd wanted to get back on track to their department. Not to mention he'd wanted to spend some time with her, maybe even have lunch after this show was over. It seemed all they ever did was work. It would be nice to spend some personal time together for a change.
A bright flash of light snapped him out of his reverie as smoke billowed around the machine. Scully tried not to cough as Dr. Wockenfuss opened the small window in his lab.
"Sorry about that," he said quickly. "There are a few bugs I'm trying to work out of it, but this is actually a big improvement from what it was last week."
"Where's the mouse?" Scully cut to the point.
"Oh, the mouse. Right. Well, he's just where I said he'd be." The smoke had pretty well cleared, and the scientist unsealed the machine. "All gone," he said proudly.
Mulder and Scully looked intently for the little creature, but there was no sign.
"The smoke probably killed him," Scully muttered, clearing her throat of the grimy smell.
"There's no body," Mulder pointed out.
"Well, then he crawled out in some escape hatch. Come on, Mulder. Disappearing people and billowing smoke play large parts in magic shows."
"You don't believe me?" Dr. Wockenfuss questioned.
"No, sir, I'm afraid I don't," Scully answered, hoping they could leave.
"Well, then, I suppose the only way you'll believe me is if you experience it yourself."
She exchanged a glance with her partner. Mulder asked, "You want us to get in that thing?"
"Exactly," he answered. "Then you will see just how true this is. Step on in."
"It's airtight," Scully pointed out. "We'll suffocate."
"Oh no. By the time you're at your destination, you'll be just fine."
Mulder shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the small space. "Come on, Scully. Maybe we can play Twister."
"You've got to be kidding me." She sighed as the doctor motioned for her to join her partner. "Fine. Then we go," she insisted as she squeezed in next to Mulder.
"Where to?" Dr. Wockenfuss asked.
"Anywhere we don't end up as cat food," Scully muttered.
Mulder grinned. "Someplace we can make a difference."
"Allrighty. I'll seal the door now. You may experience some discomfort, but it shouldn't last long. Have a good trip." The door shut, and Scully turned to her partner.
"I do hope he's planning to let us out before we run out of air."
"Don't worry, Scully. The Gunmen did a check on him. He's fine. A little eccentric, maybe."
"Why are you humoring him?"
"Who says I'm humoring him?"
"Mulder..."
"The mouse, Scully."
"I can't believe you-" she was cut off by a sudden sensation pulsating through her body and a bright light blinding them to their surroundings. Smoke filled their nostrils, and they began to feel faint. Scully grasped for Mulder's hand, and they held on to each other, fighting to stay conscience and willing the sensation to stop.
Finally their breath came back to them, and they loosened their grip on each other's hand. The smoke cleared some, but it filled their nostrils with the scent of the sea rather than that of old motor oil they had smelled from the outside of the machine. A breeze tickled their faces, and they realized they were no longer in the small contraption but rather on a deck of sorts. Scully took a deep breath and looked at her partner. He smiled slightly as he looked around.
"Something tells me we're not in Kansas anymore," he cracked.
"Cute, Mulder. Where the hell are we?"
"On a boat?" he ventured.
"What was your first clue, Sherlock?" She sighed deeply then touched his arm. "I'm sorry, Mulder."
"It's okay. We just need to figure out where we are."
"I guess Dr. Wockenfuss wasn't as trustworthy as you thought he was."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, it's obvious, Mulder, that he must have drugged us and brought us here."
"We were conscious the whole time."
"We don't know that for sure. Besides, how else do you explain it?"
He smiled in that excited little boy way that he had. They were walking along the deserted deck of an obviously huge ship, but now they had neared the front of the vessel, near the dock, and could see hundreds of people waving from the railings to their loved ones on ground.
"Check out those clothes, Scully."
She turned her eyes to the many men, women, and children on board and immediately felt like she was in a Shirley Temple movie.
Mulder leaned close to her ear. "Guess we should have asked the good doctor how to return to the present time."
She looked at him impatiently. "It's an act," she said, but her voice lacked conviction. She continued to rationalize, hoping one of them would buy it. "Mulder, it's not possible. This must be an elaborate hoax to discredit us. Maybe he's in league with the consortium."
"Scully, this is not 1998."
"Then what year is it?"
Mulder glanced around, and a look of awe crossed his features. "Oh my God."
"What?"
"I never expected it to be like this. It's so big."
"What?" she asked impatiently, following his gaze. A large sign about the vessel adorned the railing near the front of the ship. "No," she insisted. "This can't be happening."
"It is, Scully. It really is." They walked closer to the sign, passing some very well-dressed gentlemen who looked at them with condescending stares. The agents observed their dress just as curiously and heard one of the men mutter something about third-class passengers not knowing their place.
"He looks like something out of a history book," Scully observed. "And acts like it."
"That's because he is."
"But why here?"
"I told Wockenfuss to send us someplace where we could make a difference."
"To change history."
"Exactly. We have to warn them about the iceberg."
"And I suppose you're going to walk up to the captain, tell him we're visitors from the future, and that he needs to change his course?"
"Somehow, yes. If we can save all of these innocent people, Scully, isn't it worth a shot?"
"That's rewriting history, Mulder."
"For the better," he pointed out as he approached the shiny new sign. His right index finger slowly traced the large bold letters of the ship's name: TITANIC.
April 12, 1912
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean
"So, Scully, now what?" Wandering around the ship had earned them only curious stares, and Mulder was anxious to *do* something. Besides, he wanted something to occupy his mind aside from worrying about how they were going to find their way back home.
"How am *I* supposed to know, Mulder?!" she snapped at him in frustration. "This is *your* fault, not mine. You figure out what we should do." She glared at an older man who quickly looked away, and she muttered to herself, "I can't believe this... This is the worst damn thing you've ever gotten us into, and if we get off alive, I swear-"
"Calm down, Scully," Mulder said with a confidence he didn't feel. "We're traveling on the finest ship in the world-"
"Which sank, more than eighty years ago! Mulder, think reasonably. Please," she added in a softer tone, trying to keep her emotions in check and return to her normally stoic self. "We can't possibly-"
Mulder looked into her eyes and grabbed her close. "Shut up, Scully."
Scully felt his arms wrap snugly around her body, and she froze. Somehow she couldn't find her voice to yell at him as he lifted her so that her feet touched the bottom rail overlooking the ocean. His body pressed up behind her as his hands ran along her arms, stretching them far out to the sides. Sudden warmth enveloped her body as her eyes closed to savor the unsettling sensation his actions were inspiring.
He leaned his face in close, his breath tickling her neck as he whispered in her ear, "We're flying, Scully."
Later that afternoon
Mulder had decided to talk with the captain, so Scully, wanting to avoid the inevitable embarrassment, voted to take a walk to collect her thoughts.
Damn, she thought to herself. How did I get here? Oh, right, I forgot. Following Mulder, and now I'm going to sink in a ship that already sank!
She was so deep in thought, she no longer noticed the strange looks from the other passengers. She certainly was an anomaly for that period of time. Most looked down at her as a third-class passenger who was out of place; some looked at her and thought she was crazy. But when Rose Bukater saw her, she thought, wow.
Two arms snaked around Scully's waist and lifted her up.
"Guess who?" a familiar voice asked, the tone giving away his obvious enjoyment at catching her off guard.
"Mulder! Put me down," she demanded, using anger to cover her surprise.
Mulder sighed, knowing it was more than the element of surprise that he enjoyed. "Fine. You're no fun," he said, keeping the tone light. "And here I am, all by myself..."
"What happened with the captain?" she interrupted, eager to return to business.
"I told him to listen carefully... that this would sound strange, but-"
"Did he listen?"
"Nope."
Scully spoke, exasperated. "Mulder, this ship is going to sink in a few days. We will sink with it, we will die... And worst off, this is the most ridiculous place to travel back in time. Why couldn't we go back in time somewhere else? How about Hawaii, or-?"
"Scully, it doesn't matter. We're here to make a difference-"
"Mulder, no one will listen to us!" She sighed in frustration and decided she needed more time to herself. "Right now, I'm leaving you. I'm going to find somewhere to calm down, and I'll see you later."
Scully headed off, leaving Mulder completely confused and feeling somewhat empty.
Mulder was walking around, getting a feel for his surroundings. He liked being able to sail and not be seasick for a change. So he enjoyed himself thoroughly, walking around and watching people.
He came across a curious young man, staring out at the sea, but drawing magnificently. Mulder sat down next to him.
"That's a great sketch," he observed.
The young man looked up at Mulder. "Hey, thanks. Not everybody thinks so."
Mulder shrugged. "Art is different to everyone. Oh, uh, Fox Mulder." He reached out his hand.
The young man shook it, then stared out at the ocean again. "Jack Dawson."
Jack suddenly looked up, almost magnetically, and saw a gorgeous redhead staring back at him.
Mulder finally saw what he was looking at.
Well, I know we have the same taste in women, Mulder thought wryly. Whoa! Where the hell did that come from? he thought again, but realized Jack was speaking.
"So, Fox, where are you from?"
He felt the urge to tell this kid not to call him that, but he fought it. "Washington. How bout you?"
Jack smiled. "Well, I pretty much live wherever I can."
Yeah, right, kid, was all Mulder could think of. Mulder glanced at his watch. He thought he'd better find Scully. Considering the way the men of the ship were treating her, lord knows what trouble she may have gotten herself into... "Jack, it was nice to meet you. I'll see you around.
"Yeah, Fox, good to meet you."
Mulder walked away, thinking of *his* redhead...
"Excuse me, miss?"
Scully looked curiously at the pretty, young redhead that had approached her. "Yes?"
"I couldn't help but overhear your talk with your husband-"
Scully blushed. "He's not my husband," she quickly corrected. "And what exactly did you overhear?" Her voice held apprehension that the stranger suspected something was wrong with their being on board.
The girl smiled in reassurance. "I didn't overhear your conversation. I just heard you two yelling at each other. And Cal and I get that way all the time. If you don't mind my asking, who is he? Your fiance?"
Scully laughed at the thought of Mulder being her fiance-or husband. She stopped laughing. "No. He's just a good friend of mine."
The girl smiled. "I'm terribly rude. I'm Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater."
Scully smiled. "I'm Scu-Dana. Dana Scully."
"Well, Dana. I must know, and please, may I ask if, well, I don't mean to be rude, but if you don't mind, may I ask-"
"Rose, ask me the question. Whatever it is, you don't have to ask to make a question. That's ridiculous." Scully realized that it was a different society that she was in, but some things, such as the inferior treatment of women, were hard to sit back and swallow. Besides, no one in their right mind would ever guess that her convictions were built from growing up in the era of "women's liberation." She wasn't about to let anyone treat her as a second-class citizen, and she wasn't going to conceal her attitudes to match those of her feminine counterparts.
Rose pondered her statement for a moment and walked over to the railing, staring down at the many people on board. A handsome young man caught her attention, and she smiled as she observed him, unnoticed. "Why are you dressed like that? I mean it's hardly proper..."
Scully snorted in spite of herself. "Proper? Well, this is how I dress everyday."
Rose gasped. "In slacks and a man's jacket? Surely your mother doesn't-"
"Rose, my mother doesn't control me. I decide what I wear everyday." Scully smiled at the thought of her mother still picking out her clothes like she did when she was in kindergarten.
It took her a minute to realize that Rose was years younger than she thought, probably in her early twenties, not to mention of an obviously high class. She smiled slightly to herself, imagining that at the ripe old age of thirty-three, she was probably considered an old maid.
Scully finally noticed who Rose was staring at.
"Is that Cal?"
I wish, she murmured under her breath, a slow blush creeping into her pale cheeks. "No. I don't know him, but he's... um..."
Rose mentally slapped herself. You're an engaged young woman who is in love with her fiance! ...who just happens to be the biggest scoundrel you've met in your entire life. And you can't help but stare at that darling third-class passenger...
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. What is it?" she asked, deciding not to correct the formality again.
"Have you been in love before?"
Scully gulped. Hmm, she thought, not really 'in love'. I've loved people, but I've never been 'in love'...
But then she thought of a certain male who got her into this damned mess. Yes, she did love him. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, she certainly was in love with him. She just wasn't sure how much... and if he felt the same...
"Yes," she admitted. "Why?"
"How does it feel to be in love?"
Of of all the questions in this damned world, she picks the hardest! Well, Dana rationalized, considering she's engaged-and doesn't seem to be very enthused about it-I guess it's hardly something she can ask her mother.
"It's different for everyone," she hedged.
"But I mean for you, Dana. For you."
Here goes nothing...
"Rose, when you're in love with someone, it's complicated. Nothing is easy, and the more time you spend with a person, hopefully, the more that you see the good in him and want to spend the rest of your life with him."
Scully tried to think where she had heard that, and decided television, so she didn't have to worry about Rose knowing where it was from.
"Really?" She smiled at her nod. "Then I'm not in love with Cal."
Scully looked startled.
"Please don't tell anyone. Especially my mother. Especially Cal..."
"Then why are you marrying him? You could be happier doing something you want. Concentrate on your career-
Scully noticed how green she turned when she heard that. Oh yeah, she remembered, it's 1912. A woman's job is to stay at home and raise a family. She cringed inwardly at the thought. The poor girl probably never worked a day in her life, she realized, trying a different approach.
"Or, Rose, marrying someone you love..."
Rose was silent. So was Scully.
Their silence was interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice. "Yo, Scully! I mean... Scully, come here!" Mulder shouted very loudly, drawing the attention of several other passengers as he stood near the railing.
Rose smirked. "Speaking of those we love..."
Scully quickly turned to see if Mulder had heard her. "Rose!" she admonished, though failing to hide an embarrassed smile.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"Shhh!" Scully insisted as Mulder gave up waiting and jogged towards them.
He smiled at the women and said with sarcasm, "Thanks for coming over."
"Shut up, Mulder. This is Rose."
"Rose... nice to meet you. I'm... Fox." He took her hand and kissed it lightly.
Scully's mouth dropped open as she tried not to totally explode from Mulder's words.
"Hi Fox," Rose answered, curious about his unusual name, and wondering what her mother would think of her for speaking with a complete stranger so informally.
"Boy, put a man on a ship and he's suddenly so courteous, so suave..." Scully mumbled to her partner.
"Shut up, Scully," he whispered, turning his attention back to her companion with an evil grin. "So, Rose, what do think of ol' Scully, over here? Little bit too confident, don't you think? You know, I once-OW!"
Scully hit him, maybe too hard, on the back. "Oohh, Mulder," she said in mock sympathy, "you're gonna have a big bruise." She couldn't help but grin at his somewhat pained expression.
You deserved it and you know it, her smug face told him.
His silence admitted to his guilt.
Rose was amused at their antics and asked, "Dana and Fox, would you join my family and me for dinner tomorrow night? I certainly think that you two will make the meal all the more exciting."
Scully laughed in spite of her partner's annoying behavior, and Mulder just smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. Scully answered for him, since he was still in pain. "Sure. We'll be there."
Mulder smiled through his pain, deciding Scully would pay later for his pounding. He said his farewells and sauntered off, looking for some adventure.
"Rose, it was wonderful to meet you. I'm sure we'll see each other again-"
"Dana, why don't you come to lunch with me? You can meet Mom and Cal."
Yeah, Scully thought bitterly, that sounds great... "Uh, sure, Rose."
Scully sat there, listening to everyone talk. She was still taking in the experience of being on this gorgeous ship, knowing that she couldn't tell anyone what would happen soon.
Where is Mulder? she thought. He has to be here somewhere. He said he would talk with the captain again, but that was a few hours ago. So now she was sitting here with Rose and her company, listening to everyone chat of nothing, and Rose looking as bored as Scully felt.
"Rose, you know how I don't like when you smoke," Mrs. Bukater reprimanded quietly.
Scully noticed how proper Rose seemed most of the time, but recognized that she was a wild spirit who needed to be freed. It wasn't right for her to marry Cal, and Rose knew it. She needed someone to help her, someone to confide in, and that should be her mother. But Mrs. Bukater seems so cold and distant towards her daughter, it's a miracle that Rose is so friendly, Scully thought.
Rose lit her cigarette anyway, defying her mother like a proper teenager should.
"I know." With that, Rose blew smoke in her mother's face.
Even though Scully disapproved of smoking, she saw that this was an act of rebellion, and nothing more, so she smiled knowingly, remembering a time when she had rebelled from her parents-joining the FBI, for one.
"Of course she does." Cal pulled the cigarette from its holder and stamped it out on the plate.
With the holder still in her mouth, Rose shot daggers of anger at her fiance, but said nothing.
"So, Dana, where are you from?" Mrs. Bukater's voice sounded accusing and slightly demeaning.
"Right now, I'm living near Washington-"
Mrs. Bukater sighed with relief. Her father was probably some important head of state.
"But it's only because of work..." As the words fell out of Scully's mouth, she knew they were wrong.
Mrs. Bukater's eyes were cold and hard. "Work? You-work? Doing what, may I ask?"
Scully smiled, trying to think of something to say besides, Well, I work for the FBI... "Uh... I... uh..."
"What will you be having, miss?"
Whew, Scully thought. Saved by the waiter.
Cal's voice rang out with dominance, which was really beginning to anger Scully.
"We'll have the lamb with mint jelly. You like lamb right sweetpea?" Rose merely sneered, but shot a smile at Scully.
"So, you gonna cut her meat for her, too, there, Cal?" Molly Brown stated loudly.
Scully smiled at her very on-the-mark comment. She was trying to believe that she was sitting next to the 'Unsinkable Molly Brown,' but it wasn't working. This was too surreal.
Cal smiled at Mrs. Brown, but Scully could tell what he was *really* thinking.
The men at the table were discussing something, Scully noted. I suppose I should listen, but then again, I really don't care, she thought. But she did catch the end.
"...wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury... and safety-" the man named Ismay rambled on.
"Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay," Rose quipped with fire in her eyes, then promptly stormed out, leaving six bewildered people behind her.
"I do apologize," Ruth said quietly, upset what other passengers were thinking of her family.
"She's a pistol, Cal. You sure you can handle her? Molly remarked.
"Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on." Cal retorted, slightly miffed at his fiance's quick departure.
Scully turned pale. Is this how these people lived? In that case, she was tremendously glad to live in the nineties-if she still lived there. "Excuse me, Mrs. Bukater, Mr. Ismay, Mrs. Brown. I feel I should check on Rose, and I suddenly feel very-ill."
Night fell quickly upon the Titanic, icy waters swirling recklessly through its propellers. Those passengers of a high social standing had enjoyed five-course meals, music, and formal dancing to celebrate their first night on board. It could be argued, though, that those without a definitive pedigree had the best time, laughing and joking over beer, poker, and rowdy music.
While Rose was of the former standing and Jack of the latter, Mulder and Scully found themselves sorely out of place. A quick meal in one of the casual dining rooms left them to wonder where they would stay the night. A visit with the captain about having lost their luggage and tickets to go along with it only gave the crew more reason to find them suspicious. Captain Smith had informed them that no rooms were vacant, and they would just have to "rough it."
Scully had walked tight-lipped from the room with Mulder at her heels and made her way to the fresh sea air, finding comfort from the memory of her father that the scent inspired. She shivered slightly as she looked up at the dark, clear sky.
"Cold?" Mulder asked gently as he stood by her side.
She eyed him suspiciously, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. "A little," she answered, turning her attention back to the ocean.
Mulder removed his jacket and set it on her shoulders with a slight grin. She shook her head lightly, accepting the gesture, but she couldn't resist commenting, "Always the gentleman, right, Mulder?"
His grin spread wider. "I was just teasing you," he said, referring to their meeting with Rose.
"I know," she smiled back, their gazes holding intently until Scully finally looked away, feeling suddenly warm. "This night is beautiful, Mulder," she said, changing the subject. "Truly gorgeous. And magically," she teased, "you're not seasick."
He imitated the famous DanaScullyLook, and she tried to hide a smile.
Wordlessly, they began to wander around the moon-filled deck, till they reached the back of the ship.
Scully suddenly stopped, turning pale.
"Hey, Scully? What's the matter?" Mulder asked in concern.
"That's Rose," she answered shakily. "With that boy I saw today."
Mulder was puzzled, straining to see them, realizing it was the same boy he had met earlier. He just decided not to tell Scully. "So? What's so bad about that? She looks old enough to have a 'gentleman caller'."
Scully shoved off his stupid phraseology. "She looks like she's jumping off the boat."
"Scully, I think you need to have your eyes checked. He's obviously helping her-"
"Mulder, she's falling!"
She started running to Rose, but he pulled her back.
"What are you doing, Mulder? I want to help her, she needs me..."
Mulder nodded towards Rose, and Scully followed his gaze-Rose was already safe-underneath the boy.
"What was I saying about having your eyes checked, Scully? She's not falling... not at all..." When she didn't respond, he continued, "Don't worry; she's fine. And having better luck than me. Look, here come some people. It looks like her brother, or someone."
Rose was laughing at having slipped on her way back to safety, knocking her helper to the deck. A high-pitched squeal had escaped from her lips during the incident, drawing attention to their little predicament, and now her fiance and several other gentlemen were rushing to her side.
Unfortunately, considering that the young man, Jack Dawson, was pinned over Rose, there was a slight misunderstanding as to why she had screamed. All was straightened out with a little white lie about slipping on the deck, and Jack was invited to dinner the next evening as appreciation, though it was obvious that Rose's fiance was not thrilled with this plan.
The decks cleared, leaving the two agents alone once again to ponder what had happened.
"I didn't realize she felt that desperate," Scully said quietly.
"How could you have known?" Mulder soothed, deciding that his usual dark humor was not what she needed at the moment.
"I knew she was unhappy, but..."
"If she had jumped, it wouldn't have been your fault."
Scully's sea-blue eyes searched Mulder's warm brown ones, and she sighed in resignation. "I know."
He squeezed her shoulder slightly, and she said thoughtfully, "I know this is going to sound strange-"
"You're saying that to me?" he grinned.
She gave him one of her million-watt ScullySmiles before continuing. "Rose seems familiar to me somehow."
Mulder was deciding whether or not to make a crack about past lives when he heard footsteps approach them. Rose was walking up to the railing where she had almost jumped.
"Rose?" Scully said quickly, a hint of worry in her voice as she approached the young woman.
"Hi Dana," she smiled in greeting. "Fox."
"Are you okay?" Scully asked with concern.
Rose's face paled slightly, afraid they had witnessed her near-jump. "I'm fine," she said a bit nervously. "I just forgot my shawl," she explained, leaning down to pick up the object in question. "I was out here for a walk and... you know, don't you? You saw."
"Rose, it can never be that bad," Scully said gently.
Rose looked down, embarrassed. "It certainly feels that way sometimes." She looked up again, a smile on her face. "I feel much better now. Jack was right; I didn't really want to jump."
"Jack?" Mulder asked, a knowing grin on his face.
"Jack Dawson. He's a very nice boy," Rose added. "You two can meet him tomorrow night at dinner. He'll be joining us as well. This will definitely be an interesting meal." She glanced over her shoulder. "I'd better get back. They'll be worried about me."
"Where should we meet you?" Scully asked, wondering not only how out of place they would feel because of the style of their clothing, but also because they would be wearing the same outfit as the day before.
"Well, why don't I just meet you in front of your rooms?" Rose offered.
Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance.
"What is it?" Rose asked.
Scully shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to lie. Mulder cleared his throat. "It seems there was some mixup with our luggage and tickets... we don't know where our rooms are, and the captain wasn't very willing to believe us."
"Well, maybe if I talked to him-" Rose began.
"No," Scully interrupted. "I'm afraid all the rooms are full."
"Oh, I guess they would be," Rose realized, knowing that tickets for this voyage had not only been expensive but also hard to come by. No doubt every room was accounted for. She smiled with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing to worry about. We have an extra sitting room you can use."
"Are you sure?" Scully asked hopefully, unwilling to intrude but even less willing to spend a night outdoors in the chilly Atlantic air.
"Don't be silly; of course I'm sure. Mother won't mind. Come on," she motioned for them to follow her. Mulder grinned at Scully as if to tell her that everything would work out, but she ignored him, not wanting him to forget whose fault it was that they were there in the first place.
As she was about to open one of the doors down a long corridor, she winked at Scully and said, "You might want to tell Mother you're married, though; it wouldn't be proper for you two to share a room otherwise, you know."
Mulder couldn't suppress a smile, but Scully tried her best not to look at her partner; she was sure she was blushing and wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.
Cursory introductions were made, and Rose showed her new friends to the small, sparsely furnished room. "We reserved it only so we wouldn't have to have strangers so close by," she explained. "Mother says we can never be too careful."
"I don't think she approved of us," Scully commented.
"Oh, she's harmless," Rose laughed. " She's still trying to figure you out. Your clothes are strange, and she can't tell what kind of background you have. But that's okay. I'm sure her impression of you will change tomorrow at dinner."
"Um..." Scully began.
Rose's face suddenly registered the problem. "You don't have your luggage. Don't worry; we have plenty of extra clothes around here. Just get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."
"Thank you so much, Rose," Scully said. "Good night."
"Good night, Rose," Mulder added.
"Sleep tight," she smiled, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Scully looked at Mulder as if deciding how to act.
"Tomorrow is a new day," he said hopefully.
"One day closer to sinking," she reminded him as she removed her small heels and sat on the couch. "Why did I wear these damned things on a Saturday anyway?"
"You should know by now to be prepared whenever you're with Spooky Mulder," he commented, sitting beside her.
"I *was* prepared. I had everything I might need-in the car."
"What's a car?"
She hit him lightly on the leg. "They have cars."
"That's great, Scully!" he said in mock enthusiasm. "Tomorrow let's go rent a Taurus and find out how to tow an iceberg."
"Your back still sore, Mulder?" she asked, a warning edge to her voice.
Mulder put on his best pout. "Scully, it really hurt, so could you rub my back?"
Scully snorted. "Yeah, Mulder, then maybe I'll..." Realizing she was just about to say something obscene, she quickly shut her mouth. "Good night, Mulder." She laid down and closed her eyes.
Mulder sighed sleepily and reached over to turn off the kerosene lamp. Carefully he positioned himself behind his partner, whose back was to the back of the couch as she slept on her side. An arm fell around her stomach, and the other rested above her head. A boyish grin lit up his face as he gently brought his lips down to her cheek. They lingered there much longer than necessary before he pulled away and whispered against her ear, "Good night, Scully."
After he had settled his head against the pillow, Scully grinned herself. "Good night, Mulder."
He froze for a moment, then relaxed as he felt her hand find his and squeeze it gently. He squeezed back and closed his eyes. He could think of worse ways to spend a Saturday night.
April 13, 1912
As the two agents made their way from the sitting room where they had spent the night, they bantered back and forth like they would have talked over an x-file back in their basement office.
"Mulder, I'm being serious!" Scully insisted as they walked along the deck, nearly vacant as most passengers were having their morning meal.
Mulder smiled; he knew she was, but she always looked so damn *cute* when she was annoyed with him. "I know, I know, the ship is sinking. But since we can't do anything to stop it, don't you think it's more important to get two people together?"
Scully was exasperated. "Mulder! You're a hopeless romantic!" She had meant that to sound reprimanding, but instead, she sounded like she was okay with his plot for Jack and Rose.
Mulder's plan was simple: Get Cal out of the way to let Jack and Rose be alone for a little while. Their true feelings would come out, and *BAM* romance!
Scully, of course, thought he was ridiculous. She was aware that Rose was unhappy, but she knew it was not her place to interfere. Mulder, on the other hand, thought two destined souls belonged together, yadda, yadda, yadda. It sounded all too reminiscent of a certain confused young woman named Sydney, or whoever the hell she was, and Scully was not ready to think that Mulder could be forever connected to anyone besides herself.
However, deep down, she wanted Jack and Rose to make it off the boat and live happily after after. But she knew there was a greater task at hand, and that was making sure hundreds of people did not die.
"Hey, Mulder, listen, I know that-"
"Shhh, Scully, quiet! Here they come!"
Around the corner walked Rose and Jack, laughing about riding horses. They acknowledged no one and left quickly.
"Ahh. To be young again, right, Scully?"
"Speak for yourself, Mulder. I'm still young!"
"Hmm, and how would I determine that, Agent Scully?" His voice was teasing, but sweet and innocent, to some extent.
Scully looked at Mulder for maybe the first time. *Really* looked at him. Saw his eyes, saw his soul... And when she saw his soul, she saw no Bambis, Phoebes or Sydneys. She she saw herself. Not a reflection, but the most perfect part of herself, which is how Mulder saw her. She looked for something, anything else, to prove to herself that Mulder wasn't so dependent on her. But then she realized what was truly there... A search for the truth, which, at the moment, wasn't going too well. A sister lost, maybe to be found. A man struggling with so many demons that it was a wonder he hadn't been institutionalized. And his saving grace-a petite redhead who had fought death and was struggling with some demons of her own.
"Scully, don't get all Freudian on me." Mulder's deadpan brought her back from soul-staring as she quickly looked away.
"Sorry."
"Oooh, Dana!"
Scully turned around from watching the breathtaking sunset, acknowledging Rose. "Hey, where have you been?"
Rose couldn't contain her happiness. "Oh, with Jack. Did you know that he used to live in Paris? It's one of my favorite places, and... Dana, you're not dressed for dinner... Tisk, silly me. Come on, let's get you dressed!"
Out of all the things happening to Dana on this strange trip, this was going to be her least favorite. Rose looked gorgeous, and so did all women wearing those extravagant dresses.
But Scully really didn't care for... okay, *hated* dressing up like some prom queen. Then again, she wouldn't mind it too much, just to see the look on Mulder's face when he saw her, dazzling and gorgeous...
You look like a princess, Dana, Rose smiled as she pinned a flower to her friend's gown. Fox will love it.
Dana groaned, adjusting the butterfly clip in her hair. I'm not trying to impress Mulder.
Whether you're trying to or not, you will. Trust me.
Oh, and are you putting that extra spray of perfume on for Cal? Or... Jack? she said slyly.
Enough of *that* talk, Dana. But speaking of Cal, I have to show you this awful necklace he bought me. Rose went over to a nearby vault and withdrew a large, expensive stone. He says it used to belong to a king or something. They call it le coeur de la mer.'
The heart of the ocean, Dana translated, a familiarity tugging at her mind.
It's much too heavy to wear. I'd much prefer it to be sized down to a ring or something.
Not nearly as expensive that way.
Rose answered as she returned the necklace to the safe. Cal is just trying to impress everyone. I couldn't care less.
Scully walked slowly towards her, accustoming herself to the new outfit and shoes. That's a Picasso, isn't it? she asked suddenly, pointing to a nearby painting.
Yes, you've heard of him? Rose answered in surprise.
Well, of course I've heard of him. He's- Oh. Right. He's not famous yet. Well, my father collects his art, actually, she lied.
Good taste. Cal doesn't agree, though... She looked up suddenly. You don't talk about your family much.
Dana was caught off guard but shrugged her shoulders. Well, I guess I should say my father used to collect his art... he died a few years ago.
I'm sorry.
He was a captain, actually. With the, uh... Does the Navy exist yet? she worried, adding lamely, With the government.
How interesting. We'll have to run that by Mother. It will bring your standing up considerably. Your religion will help, too.
Your cross.
Dana felt for it self-consciously. My mother gave it to me. It's... it's helped me through some tough times.
I wish I had something like that. She sighed, glancing at the clock that rested against he wall. I wonder how Mrs. Brown is doing with finding clothes for Fox and Jack?
Scully wondered that herself as she glanced in the mirror once more. Rose was right; this would definitely be an interesting dinner.
***
Mulder walked down the grand mahogany staircase. He absently ran his fingers along the banister, staring up at the large glass dome looming above him. He saw Jack standing copying some gentleman near him. He reminded Mulder of himself at that age. He never felt comfortable with all the aristocrats of Martha's Vineyard, and he looked like Jack did-an outsider.
Jack's eyes all of a sudden focused on Mulder. Nope, Mulder thought, his thoughts are directly behind me. He followed his gaze.
Rose was astonishing. She was a vision in red and black lace, and made Mulder's heart beat a little faster. But then behind her, he saw the woman that made his heart stop. Scully looked beautiful, and the worst part was that she was not even looking at him. She was smiling at Jack and Rose but then turned her attention to the man, all of a sudden, right in front of her.
Scully walked with the poise that she always did. But wearing a corset made her walk a little straighter, even though she hated the damn thing. She wore a periwinkle silk gown covered with silver lace that trailed behind her, and she also wore a huge smirk looking at the awe on Mulder's face.
When Scully finally got to the bottom of the stairs, Mulder mimicked Jack, who had already headed into the dining room. He gently grabbed Scully's hand and brought it to his lips, watching her eyes. He then softly kissed the white glove on her hand.
"Ms. Scully... You're looking... good."
She looked around, then pressed her forehead to Mulder's. "Mulder, you've forgotten. That's *Mrs.* Mulder."
Mulder looked slightly off guard, but then caught himself. "Oh, darling, I forgot. Forgive me?" He held out his arm.
She took it gracefully, as he led her into the dining room. "Of course, sweetheart. You know," she whispered, "you look hot."
Scully watched Rose and Jack walk together, heads bent towards each other, in a conspiratorial way. It reminded her of the time when she was first getting to know Mulder. No, she thought. Maybe it was after that. When I first met him, I thought he was a jerk. He's still a jerk, she noted, but less of one...
Rose suddenly motioned to Scully and Mulder. "Dana, Fox... I'd like you to meet Colonel Gracie... J.J. and Madeleine Astor... Benjamin Guggenheim and his," Rose winked at them, "companion, Madame Aubert... and Sir Cosmo and Lady Duff Gordon. And Dana, you've already met Mr. Ismay, Mrs. Brown, Mother, and Cal."
Everyone shook hands, intrigued by these passengers. Scully pulled Rose aside before they sat down. "Rose, stop staring at Jack," she teased mockingly, "or it might let on to Cal you're not exactly his wife yet." The end of her message came out hard and as a warning.
"Dana..." She opened her mouth to tell her some high class idea about something.
Instead she gave Scully an evil smile. "I could say the same of you, Dana." With that, she sat down.
"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they're quite good on this ship," Ruth said, her cold eyes boring into Jack's young features.
"The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats, " he shot back with gusto.
Ruth set her face in a stone manner. She turned to Scully, who was secretly kicking Mulder under the table for mumbling about how much caviar sucked.
"So, Dana, how long have you and Fox been married?" Scully thought about it, ready to make up a number, when Mulder quickly came up with it.
"Six years, in a few weeks." He looked at Scully, who was trying to figure out this significance. She realized that today was the thirteenth, which was a week away from the first time they ever met. Of course, eighty years premature... And they say men forget anniversaries!
Rose looked on with interest. "Six years. That's a long time."
Scully smiled at her, then looked up at Mulder and laced her fingers through his. "Longer than you can imagine."
Rose was having trouble looking at Scully and Mulder. She knew they really weren't married, but even so, they looked happy. Rose longed to be happy, and she knew she could never be happy with Cal. Sure, he was rich, powerful, and slightly handsome. But she longed for so much more. To be free and happy. She was beginning to long for something else, though. Jack, maybe... Wonderful, she thought. Mother is pestering Jack again.
"...find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Ruth quipped at Jack.
"Well... it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talkin' about goin' to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt next. See, my folks died in a fire when I was fifteen, and I've been on the road since. Somethin' like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count."
Molly smiled at him. "Well said, Jack."
Rose raised her glass, looking at Jack. "To making it count."
To making it count. To making it count. These words were so simple yet as complex as any Shakespearian sonnet. Scully was no stranger of this statement. Her brush with death had sealed that. After she was given another chance at life, she yearned for experiencing everything she hadn't yet done. Ironic that now she was going to sink on the Titanic. This certainly was a different experience.
All the men got up to retreat into a cloud of cigar smoke and brandy in the smoking room. "Joining us, Dawson? You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" Gracie questioned.
"No thanks. I'm heading back."
Cal asked, "How about you, Mulder? Join us?"
"Sorry, I'll pass. I'm not really one for smoking." He looked over at Scully and smiled.
"We're going to walk around. It was nice meeting everyone." Mulder pulled Scully out of her chair, and they said their good-byes.
"You've been awfully quiet, Mulder," Scully observed once they were outside, away from the crowd. "I'm surprised you didn't want to join the men for their little boasting party. You okay?"
Mulder looked over at her. "I'm not really comfortable in there. Too much wealth and power for me."
Scully smiled ruefully. "As a captain's daughter, I had to be like Rose. Impeccable manners. You know, sit up straight, don't speak loudly... and the most important..."
"What?"
She leaned into his face. "Never invite a bad boy to dinner."
***
Though her breathing was steady, Mulder could tell his partner had not yet drifted off to sleep. He shuffled beside her and said, "I'm supposed to be the insomniac, Scully."
She smiled tiredly as she stifled a yawn. "You are."
When she didn't elaborate, he rested his head on his elbow and asked, "Are you worried?"
She turned to give him THE LOOK, and he grinned sheepishly. "Okay, okay. I'm worried, too. But I get the feeling there's something besides the obvious that's bothering you."
She rolled over on her back to face him looking down at her. "Your insight into human behavior is beginning to scare me, Mulder."
"Almost spooky, aren't I?"
"Mulder... I know you didn't believe me before when I told you this, but Rose seems very familiar."
He surprised her with his next comment. "Does she remind you of your sister?"
"Missy? No... well, maybe a little, but... no. It's different than that."
"How?"
"Well, it's not just knowing Rose... it's knowing *about* her. I think I read an article about her. I think maybe she's still alive."
"Rose Bukater?"
"I'm not sure... It was in the Post, and it said that there were some scientists doing research about the Titanic. They went out to the crash site, and there was a survivor who went with them. I think the person's name was Rose."
"Scully, Rose is around twenty years old. This is 1912. Do you realize how old she would be in our time?"
"I know, I know," she sighed. "It's probably just wishful thinking. Must have been someone's kid, maybe a descendent of a survivor." She settled back on her side in disappointment, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep.
Mulder rested his head on the pillow as well, but his mind remained active. "Hey Scully?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Hm?"
"What if Rose got married?"
"What?" She sat up at this suggestion, contemplating the possibilities.
"She would have had a different last name."
A light flashed in her eyes a moment before dwindling. "That's not going to help me to know if Rose makes it off this stupid ship."
"It might."
"How?"
Mulder smiled; he had her attention-something he'd been very happy to have earlier in the ballroom when he had been accompanying the beautiful Miss Scully in her fashionable evening gown-and something he wanted just as badly now as she looked earnestly at him, face washed of makeup and a rumpled shirt for pajamas, but somehow just as beautiful. He answered her intent gaze, "What if the woman's name was Rose Dawson?"
Scully's mouth formed an oval as it dawned on her. "Oh my God, Mulder. You're a genius."
He smiled as she gave him a quick hug, saying, "Rose Dawson. That's the name of the woman who's helping the recovery team in 1998."
"So she makes it."
"And so does Jack," she smiled.
But something in Mulder was telling him not to jump to conclusions. "I sure hope so."
April 14, 1912
"So, what did you think of last night's soiree? I thought it..."
Scully put on a patient smile. "I wasn't aware 'soiree' was in your vocab, Mulder." They were heading to breakfast with Rose and Cal, and since the agents had woken up so late, the others had started without them.
Suddenly, there was a tremendous clamor coming from their promenade deck.
Scully rushed to the deck, and Mulder followed behind her quickly. Cal stormed out with a frustrated look on his face. But the gentleman in him came out and smiled.
"Mulder. Wonderful to see you. We missed you after dinner, old man. And Dana, you look lovely. Excuse me." With that, he swooped off to continue his rage somewhere else.
Scully rushed onto the deck towards Rose. She saw the young woman on the floor with the maid, trying furiously to clean up the dishes and food that Cal had knocked off the table.
"Rose?" Scully sat down next to the young woman, who was now tearful.
"Oh, Dana." She looked up at Mulder, who was hovering above her. "We had a little accident. Stupid, really. I-um..." She quickly straightened up. "I have to go to the church service in the dining room. I'd love it if you two came." She begged silently to Scully.
Mulder helped her stand. "Sure, Rose. We'll be there."
Scully gave her partner a curious look. He *never* went to church. She smiled confidently. "I'll be there in a minute, Rose."
Rose returned the smile, now composed, and left.
"What the hell was that, Scully? This was no accident."
Scully didn't want to think that Rose had lied to her. "How can you be so sure? And why are you going to church?"
He smiled as they exited the deck. "One question at a time, okay? I can tell because..." He gulped slowly. "My, um, my father, when he used to be, ah, upset, and after he, uh, did something violent, he... had the same expression Cal had.
He wasn't looking at her but paused when he felt her hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Her heart tightened to hear this admission from him, but she knew he didn't want pity. She caught his eye, and gave him a small smile of encouragement. He nodded slightly and let out a deep breath, glad to have the secret off his chest.
He continued in a lighter tone, And the second question? I'm going to pray to God that the Titanic doesn't sink, because in case you've forgotten, darling, the grandest ship in the world is going to be at the bottom of the ocean in less than twenty-four hours."
See Part Two for Conclusion
