Title: Introductions: II
Author: Amanda "Gillian Leigh" Rosemergy

Summary: So you, my readers, became adequately acquainted with the Mulder clan, including everyone's *favorite* ::sarcasm:: person, Diana Fowley. Now it's time to meet Scully, or as she's known in *this* universe, Dana Carver.

Author's notes: Thanks SO much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! The next few will be slow in coming, school is killing me lately. Trigonometry, British Lit. Honors, and Anatomy and Physiology, oy!

~(X)~

Unlocking her door, Dana felt something wet on her upper lip and found when she raised her hand to it that there was blood on her fingers. She swore under her breath and hurriedly searched for a tissue as she climbed into the driver's seat, and waited for it to stop. The blood stopped in a moment, as it always did. Sighing, Dana shoved the bloody tissues into her pocket, and started her car, driving off in the direction of her apartment.

She reached the high-rise penthouse, and threw her keys down on the table just inside the door. The apartment didn't even feel like hers. Mark's name had been on the lease. The sparsely decorated apartment felt less like a home and more like an apartment. She came there to sleep between shifts at work, and that was it. She'd inherited it, and three-quarters of Mark's fortune upon his death. The other quarter went to his teenage daughter, Elena, who Dana hadn't seen since her mother had moved her across the country to California.

Dana sighed, and walked toward the bathroom, deciding that a long bath was in order. She undressed and pulled on her bathrobe. Standing in front of the mirror, she took a deep breath and with a tug, she removed her wig. The sight of her bald head brought tears to her eyes. It had been nine months since her diagnosis, and the aggressive chemotherapy and radiation that she had endured had caused her hair to fall out, and she was almost fifteen pounds underweight. The sight of her frail body as she dropped her bathrobe made her turn away momentarily. Her jutting hip bones, and the fact that she could almost count her ribs made Dana's eyes well with tears. What had she become?

She sank into the full tub, grateful that the abundance of bubbles hid her body from view. Closing her eyes, Dana let her mind wander. Back to the time before cancer, before being widowed and losing the closest thing she had to a daughter. She went back to the day that Mark proposed.

It had been a crisp fall day, four years prior. He'd arrived at the end of the work day, to find Dana sitting at her desk, reading over the newest medical texts that had arrived on her desk. He had watched her silently from the doorway for a few moments, before clearing his throat. She had looked up at him, and he had approached her and handed her a rose.

"Get your coat, we're having a picnic."

They'd been in the park, laughing and talking, and he'd produced two flutes of champagne, and handed her one. They toasted to life and love, and each downed their respective champagne, but it was Dana who had gotten a look of surprise on her face, and opened her lips to reveal a ring clenched between her teeth. Mark had grinned, and removed the ring.

"I wondered where I'd put that.." Her eyes widened at the sight of the diamond in it. "Now...there's a question that went along with this ring... what is it?" he had asked, playfully, and after a moment he said, "Ah yes, I remember. Will you marry me, Dana?"

"Yes!" she'd said, as if there was any other possibility. After he had placed the ring on her finger, she'd enthusiastically kissed him, knocking him over backwards, onto one of the champagne glasses. He'd needed twelve stitches in his shoulder.

Dana sighed, remembering the good times. She climbed out of the claw-footed tub before the water was even lukewarm, and pulled the plug, letting it drain. She wrapped herself in her bathrobe and padded slowly into her bedroom. On the bedside table was a picture of Dana, Mark and Elena, who was then nine. Dana had on her wedding dress, and Elena sat beside her in her bridesmaid's dress, and Mark was on the other side in his tuxedo. They were sitting on the bench swing outside Dana's mother's house, laughing about something. Her heart ached at the memory of the friendship she had created with Elena in the four years that she knew her. She turned the picture face down and closed her eyes.

She twisted her engagement ring, which she still wore, as she laid on the bed. Someone rang the doorbell, and she slowly got out of bed, plucking a handkerchief off her nightstand to cover her head with. She opened the door to find her mother on the other side.

"Hi, Dana," she said, embracing her daughter. Maggie could feel how terribly thin she was. "How do you feel?"

"Today was a good day, but the kids take a lot out of me." She closed the door behind her mother; and Maggie attempted to take a moment to recover. Her daughter usually let no one see her without her make-up and wig on. She didn't want anyone to see how weak she was.

"How much longer are you working before you take sabbatical?"

"Until I physically *have* to leave. But at least the last game is next weekend, so I don't have to tell the kids..." She was heartbroken. The kids she coached meant so much to her; having to leave them was hurting her. "I don't know if I can do this, Mom. I don't know how much longer I can fight..." Maggie cried with her daughter. Twenty-eight wasn't old enough...

Author P.S.: Sorry it's so short! Give me a week or so for the next one, and always remember that I cherish reviews. Feedback will be fed grapes and fanned on a chaise in the warmth of the Greek sun! xxilovedavidduchovnyxx@yahoo.com