Title: And Then there were Tears
Rating: PG to PG-13. Basic teen stuff, like suggestiveness, but this does have adult material. Not for young children. (BTW, this is an alternate universe.)
Disclaimer: I did not create the poem in this story. It was written by Robert Louis Stevenson, so don't sue me 'cuz I'm just barrowing it. I did not create Mulder and Scully either. I only barrowed them too.
Feedback: I want some always!
Author's note: At the end
Chapter 10: Suds and Sunday Mournings
Dana awoke and took in a deep breath, looking at the time; 7:08.
Then she remembered the note from last night and sat up with a start.
It's Sunday. No mail on Sunday.
She collapsed back down on the bed, having some pillows tumble off from the sudden dip in the mattress.
"It's Sunday," she muttered aloud, closing her eyes and trying to relax her racing heart.
She felt bad for not wanting to leave right away. She missed Ahab terribly, and he was already home and waiting for her, and he wasn't going to stay long.
But she didn't want to leave Mulder either. She didn't want to call it a relationship, because that was an awful stereotype that she viewed as her sister viewed it; a couple who simply had sex. This was a friendship, a strong one built on trust. But she'd never kissed a friend on the lips before, let alone anywhere else. She didn't know what to call it, other than special. And she knew that she didn't want to leave.
She got up and crept out of her room, making her way towards the bathroom to take a quick shower before anyone woke up.
Having finished her shower after about fifteen minutes, she returned to her room and threw some clothes on. She poured a little bit of oil in her hair and combed it out.
Tap.
She looked around, but decided it was just the furnace or something.
Tap.
She heard it again. It sounded like…
Tap Tap Tap.
Yep. It was stone against glass. She walked over to her window and crawled up on the chest, curling her legs up under her. She opened the window just as another pebble came flying up and missed her face by less than an inch.
"Oh, sorry Dana."
She looked down to see Mulder standing in the front yard.
"What are you doing here?" she called.
"I don't know. I had nothing else better to do so I decided to see what you were up to."
"Well, it's not even 7:30, friend Mulder."
"But I obviously didn't wake you, as it seems you've just got out of the shower, or you never dried off from last night."
She smiled and let out a delighted snort. "You'd be correct on the first assumption."
He shrugged. "Well, either way, your hair looks good when it's wet."
She raised an eyebrow, but could feel heat rise up her neck and press against her cheeks. "How do you mean?"
He stared at her, or rather studied her. "Um…it's dark and straight and shimmers…why are you blushing?"
He smiled his crooked smile and she giggled.
"My uncle's going to kill you if he finds out that you're here."
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, he's going to have to kill me then, if he finds out."
She sighed. "I've gotta tell you something, Mulder."
His smile dimmed slightly. "What?"
"I'm coming down."
He pursed his brow. "Why?"
"This is important and I need to tell you face to face."
"Dana…"
"Just hold on; I'll be right down."
She shut her window and walked over to her mirror, putting her brown eyeliner on and running her comb through her hair one last time. Then she grabbed the coat he had loaned to her and threw it over her shoulders and sneaked out of her room and down the stairs. She shoved her shoes on and walked out of the house.
"I see you prefer my jacket to your own," he said, smiling meekly as she approached him. "Why did you put that on?"
"It's heavier than my sweater and…"
"No. This." He lifted his hand to her face and cupped her cheek, lightly brushing his thumb up under her eye. He didn't wipe the makeup off, but was simply referring to it.
She looked down, forcing him to remove his hand from her.
"I thought…I didn't think that…" She couldn't finish. She studied her feet, noticing how small they were compared to his.
She felt his fingers find their way under her chin and gently lift her head to meet his gaze.
"I appreciate the gesture, but you don't have try and make yourself look pretty for me, or for anybody. I like you for who you are, Dana, not the makeup you think you need to hide behind."
She scanned his eyes. They were dark and full of…
"Besides, you looked beautiful before you put that stuff on." His full-fledged smile returned and she felt herself blushing again, her eyes watering slightly.
"It's okay," he murmured, bringing his thumb up to caress her cheek. "Don't cry."
She sniffed in the air, surprised to find it not cold and biting, but warm and smooth. Of course, his face was close to hers, so she was breathing in his breath.
"It's just…no one's ever said anything like that to me before." She leaned into his thumb, and he moved his hand to cup her face the right way, still moving his thumb delicately across her flesh.
She realized that this was the first time his hand had ever touched her face, but it felt so normal, like an every day gesture, and she felt comfortable as such.
"What did you want to tell me?" he whispered.
"Oh," she sighed, keeping his gaze. "Aram got a call from my father and found out that he's back home from England on special shore leave."
"Well that's great…isn't it?" He added the last bit when her face didn't lighten up.
"He's only staying for a couple of weeks and he wants me home as soon as possible. He's sending money for a plane ticket and it will probably be here by tomorrow or the next day."
"So you'll be leaving soon?"
She nodded.
He lowered his eyes and removed his hand from her face. For a moment she felt the sensation of loss, but then felt his fingers slowly lace through hers.
"I feel…glad that you'll miss me, Dana, but you need to see this as a good thing. He's your father, and he obviously loves you and misses you very much. I wouldn't be surprised if you're his favorite. But you need to be happy about this, and when you go home and jump into his arms, you'll probably forget all about me anyway." He looked up and met her eyes with such caring ones.
She laughed. "I could never forget you, friend Mulder." She tentatively brought her free hand up to his face and gently rested it on his cheek. She had touched his face before, when she had wiped his tears away a couple nights ago, but this was different.
His cheek was cool against her warm hand, and she softly petted his scratchy stubble. It was not the face of a boy, but of a man, and she felt as if she were a child and an adult at the same time. It was an odd feeling, touching a face that wasn't her father's, and she half wanted to pull away because of the foreignness. But the other half told her to remain.
She kept her hand on his cheek and wondered if he felt the same way she did when he touched her face. He must have because he leaned into her touch.
"We should go do something today," he murmured.
"Yah, but I think Aram has something planned for us all to do together."
"That's fine with me, and probably even more fine for your uncle."
She smiled. "Why don't you come inside?"
"Won't Aram be mad? It's kinda early."
"I think he would be happier if he saw us spending time together out in the open."
His lower lip pouted slightly, considering.
She slipped her hand from his face, entwining it with his other hand. "Come on. I'll make breakfast."
"Dana, you don't have to do that for me."
She smirked. "Who said I was making it for you?"
He raised his eyebrows.
She laughed. "I'll make some for all of us. I know Aram will wake from the deepest of sleeps if he smells pancakes." She tugged on his hands and he obliged, walking with her towards her house.
XXX
Aram had been awake for awhile, slowly pacing across his bedroom carpet. He had been thinking of his daughters, his niece, and his wife when he happened to glance out the window and spot Fox Mulder approaching his house, treading through the mist and across the dew covered earth.
He stopped pacing and stood by the window and watched as the boy went to the driveway and scooped up several pebbles, walking through the lawn and stopping under Dana's window.
He was tempted to shout to him, tell him it was early and the last thing he should be doing is throwing stones at girls' windows. But it wasn't just any girl; it was his niece, his niece who wasn't so little anymore.
As the first pebble struck the pane, he wondered what had happened on the boat yesterday, wondering how far they really went.
He knew pressing either of them wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he decided to sit back and watch the scene unfold before him.
He couldn't hear them, but could see their facial expressions. She appeared to be a little embarrassed, he somewhat shy. It looked like a friendship that just took the next step. He didn't know if that made him more relieved or uncomfortable.
Then he saw her close her window and shortly emerge from the front door, approaching him and standing so close to him that the tips of their shoes almost touched.
He thought they were going to kiss, but they didn't. They merely talked and touched each others' face, holding hands. He guessed that she told him that she would be leaving soon.
As he watched them, with their soft caresses and tender looks, he felt…his heart melted. They were so respectable of one another, and he was feeling more trustful of Fox Mulder than he already was. He knew that he had nothing to worry about.
He smiled as he watched them enter the house, knowing that Dana just wanted him to feel accepted by not just her, but her family. Or at least this part of it.
He contemplated whether or not to go downstairs, but found himself exiting his room when the smell of cooking pancakes reached his nose.
XXX
Aram had planned for a picnic that day, but another torrential downpour kept them all inside. The girls had woken up to the smell of Dana cooking breakfast and after they had all finished stuffing themselves with pancakes and syrup, Leslie said her second word.
"Monopoly."
They all laughed and clapped and Aram hugged his daughter.
"She hadn't spoken all day yesterday except for that word to you, Fox," Aram said, nodding in the younger man's direction.
"I want to play Monopoly too!" Madelynn squealed.
"Okay," their father laughed, as if on the verge of joyous tears. "But I think we should read one more of mom's poems first, alright?"
The girls nodded.
"Okay, everyone in the living room," Aram said, going upstairs.
The girls rushed into the living room and crawled up on the couch, looking out the window and watching the rain.
Dana started to pick up the dishes and Mulder helped her.
"Are you going to be okay listening?" she asked, plugging the sink and running the hot water.
"Yah, I'll be fine. I've heard them all before. Not only was she was a beautiful poetess, but she could read her poems with such emphasis, when she could still speak with strength." He placed his stack of dishes in the sink.
"I wish I could have met her." She poured the dish soap in.
"This might sound a little weird, but your pancakes were really good."
She looked at him and smiled. "It's not weird at all. Although I'm a tomboy, I'm usually the one helping my mother in the kitchen. Melissa's too lazy and Bill thinks because he's a 'man' he never has to step foot in the kitchen. Charlie tries, but he always ends up burning something. So, it ends up just being my mom and me. It's the only thing we do together."
"How do you mean?" Mulder asked, picking up a sponge and a dirty glass.
She shrugged. "My mom and I don't really connect. We have nothing in common. She told me that she was just like Missy when she was younger, but she doesn't know everything my sister does. She takes her and Bill's side on everything, which is why she thinks Charlie and me are the brats. Melissa's the liar and Bill just backs up everything she says."
"So you're saying that you and your mom don't do anything together because she doesn't trust you?"
"Not exactly. Mom likes to shop; I don't. That's something she and Melissa do. Mom likes to watch Football; I don't. She watched Bill play when he was still in high school and they watch professional on TV."
"You don't like football? I thought you said you were a tomboy."
"I play street baseball and I'm on my school's soccer team."
"Soccer?"
"My team placed second in state last year. It's not a dainty game, let me tell you. We had two girls break their ankles and one ruptured her knee."
"And nothing's happened to you?"
She rinsed of a scrubbed plate and dried it. "I think I broke enough bones to cover me 'til senior year."
He nodded. "So it's just you and your brother that spend time?"
"And my dad."
He dried a dish and placed in on the counter, looking out the window into the unforgiving rain. "If this rain ever lets up maybe we could play a little one on one basketball before you have to leave. You any good at that?"
"I guess you're going to have to find out."
He looked at her to see her smiling. Not being able to help himself, he picked up some suds with his fingers and wiped them on her nose.
"Mulder!" she laughed, wiping it off, "this is no time for a suds fight!" She then picked up a handful herself and plastered it on his chin.
"Oh, no you don't!" He filled his hand with the foamy soap and caked her ear.
She shrieked and threw some at his nose.
"Oh! I think you got some in my mouth!" he complained whilst chuckling as he pasted some on her forehead.
She was giggling as she tried to push his hand away.
"Okay, kids, that's enough."
They turned to see Aram folding his arms, holding a notebook in his hand. He was trying hard to sound stern, but a smile teased the sides of his mouth.
"I don't want you giving my daughters any ideas. Now clean up and get into the living room."
Dana could have sworn he winked at them before turning and leaving the room.
They looked at each other and laughed. Dana grabbed the towel and cleaned her face. Having finished, she tossed it to him and he did likewise.
"You missed a spot," he said, taking the towel and wiping above her eyebrow.
"Thanks, but because you started it, you get to finish the washing the dishes." She started to walk out of the kitchen.
He followed, throwing the towel on the counter. "Hey, you didn't have to play along."
"If a fight starts, I have to finish it. And I usually win."
"I don't think anybody won that round."
"Either that or we both won."
They smiled at each other as they entered the living room. They sat down on the couch, not quite touching, but close.
"Okay, now that everybody's here, let's all get comfortable, but not too comfortable." He eyed the two teenagers jokingly.
"Fox, I'm not sure what poems are in this one; I simply picked it out of the pile because it's her favorite color. So can you look through it and read one that, well, was one of her happy ones?"
Dana glanced at Mulder. She hadn't thought that he would be reading them, and neither did he. But he seemed at least somewhat comfortable with it, a rose to retrieve the notebook from her uncle.
He sat back down and opened it with great care, softly and slowly turning the pages as he scanned them with gentle eyes.
"It's a good thing she wrote in pen," he stated, not to anyone in particular. "I convinced that I liked her pen work better than her pencil work, but really I just never wanted the words to fade."
He stopped on a page and stared at it for a time, then cleared his throat and read it.
"March 7, 1975
Nest Eggs
Birds all the sunny day
Flutter and quarrel
Here in the arbor-like
Tent of the laurel.
Here in the fork
The brown nest is seated;
Four little blue eggs
The mother keeps heated.
While I stand watching her,
Staring like gabies,
Safe in each egg are the
Birds little babies.
Soon the frail eggs they shall
Chip, and unspringing
Make all the April woods
Merry with singing.
Younger than we are,
O children, and frailer,
Soon in the blue air they'll be
Singer and sailor.
We, so much older,
Taller and stronger,
We shall look down on the
Birdies no longer.
They shall go flying
With musical speeches
High overhead in the
Tops of the beeches.
In spite of our wisdom
And sensible talking,
We on our feet must go
Plodding and walking."
Mulder finished, but didn't look up from the page. Dana knew that he was staring at nothing, but going somewhere, back in time.
He smiled slightly. "She wrote this the day she found a bird building a nest on a ledge outside of her window. She would look out every day to see how far it progressed. She said that on the day it finished the nest, it had laid three little eggs. The nest was so close you could watch the bird tending them. Not having much else to do, we would sit and watch the bird, her and I. The bird was completely unafraid of us, and she said that most birds feared people, especially females that had babies. But she said that they can sense a person's disposition, and that it must have liked ours and therefore was content with us.
"On April 14, she called me from my room and we went to hers. The eggs were hatching and we watched with wonder and joy as their tiny, featherless bodies emerged from the eggs. They chirped and the mother flew away to get them food. She brought back bees in which she fed to them lovingly.
"For the next couple of weeks, we watched the babies grow, growing feathers and strong legs and big, now open eyes.
"She liked their eyes the best because she said that they said something, and when you looked into them you knew they were thinking, possibly about you.
"As the birds grew bigger and bigger, the mother left them. She could not take care of them forever for she had to go and find a mate. The first day, the birds stuck their tiny heads out of the entrance of the nest and called and called for her, but she did not come. They stayed in the nest that night and were hungry.
The next day, at sunrise, we watched the strongest of the three perch itself on the edge of the nest, scanning the countryside, spreading its wings. Lidia said that she couldn't wait to leave the hospital like that bird couldn't wait to leave its home. Finally, it jumped and went soaring to the nearest tree, its siblings watching with despair, for they were not ready yet. They hopelessly called out to their mother, but they knew now that she wasn't coming back.
"That evening, the second bird took the chance and leaped into the air, flailing its wings. It was lucky and made it to the nearby tree. I was not there, but Lidia told me the next morning what had happened, and that she was afraid for the bird that remained in the nest. The bird still chirped for its mother, and we knew that it was still not ready and would soon starve. That afternoon, when we were in her room eating together, which we often did, she saw the bird clumsily climb out of the nest entrance, standing on the edge, shaking. We became afraid and hoped that the bird would not jump, but it did, with its weak wings were not strong enough to support it. We watched it fall down down down, until it hit the ground and was dead.
"We were silent for a time, retreating from the window and sitting next to each other on the bed, no longer able to eat. She then spoke up and said that some make it, some don't, and some think they can but do not. I knew she wasn't referring to the dead bird, but to herself. I said nothing, hoping that she wouldn't turn out to be the bird that jumped and fell."
Dana looked at Mulder, watching his eyes mist over. She had to pull him back, so she reached out and grabbed his hand. He slowly slipped back into the present and turned to face her.
"She wasn't that bird, Mulder. You saw to that," she whispered.
He smiled sadly and squeezed her hand.
They both looked over at Aram, who had both girls in his lap. His eyes were watery, while the twins' were large and full of awe.
"She's right, Fox," Aram said, wiping his eyes. "She's right."
"What kind of bird was it?" Madelynn asked.
"I don't know," Mulder replied. "We never found out."
"Mommy always liked birds," Leslie said.
Aram kissed his daughters. "Okay, who wants to go get the Monopoly board?"
"Me!" the girls shouted, raising their hands.
"Alright, I'll put mommy's notebook away and we'll go get it." He got up, holding his girls hands.
Mulder handed the book to Leslie and the three of them went upstairs.
"You okay, Mulder?" Dana asked, still holding his hand.
"Yah, I just miss her. She was the nicest person I've ever met."
She took her free hand and ran it briefly through his hair. It was soft and somewhat thick. Liking the way it felt, she ran her fingers through it again, slowly this time, knowing she was going to miss feeling its texture when she left.
He sighed and let his lids close, relaxing at her touch, and he weaved his fingers in tighter with hers, extending them and closing them in rhythm, as if to a heartbeat.
She ran her hand though his hair one more time, then let her palm slide tenderly down his cheek, resting there momentarily, then leaving his face.
He opened his eyes and turned his head to face her, smiling contently.
She smiled back, thinking that he looked even cuter with his hair ruffled. She felt tired, as if she could fall asleep right there with him holding her hand and gazing upon her with his deep hazel eyes.
"I'm gonna be sad when you go," he murmured, obviously feeling sleepy too because his lids slid halfway shut.
"I know," she replied.
The phone rang.
She squeezed his hand and released it, getting up from the couch and walking over to the phone.
She picked it up. "Hello?"
"Dana! Oh my God, you won't believe what happened!"
"Charlie?"
XXX
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this kinda longish chapter. I always leave them with a cliffhanger lately, don't I? This chapter is happy and sad, I know. No, I didn't spell it wrong, the title is an analogy, since this chapter takes place on Sunday morning and some sad things happen. Please review. Thanks!