CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT:

Dupléra Townhouse
Paris, France
April 7, 1986
Monday

Oh shit. Shit. SHIT.

Nonononononononononono.

That was wrong, Janice, wrong!

In response to this, Scully blushed ferociously and sank into a puddle of Scully-girl before his very eyes. Mulder opened his mouth to say something, ANYTHING, but nothing came out. That observation was just too embarrassing for both of them. In a relationship like theirs, the last thing they needed was a reminder that they had a twenty-year age gap.

Probably due to their reactions, Janice covered her mouth in sincere apology. "Oh bullshit, I'm so sorry, Fox, I really am!" Their looks must've had said it all.

His ex-girlfriend continued, putting a hand on his shoulder and stepping towards his lover, trying hard to amend things. "I really didn't … I mean … ah …"

If they were talking to Diana, he would've decked her an hour ago. However, they were face-to-face with one of the sincerest woman he had ever been with. Janice Christen was not brutally frank, she was just that: plain sincere. She would give you a compliment and you'd know she meant it.

Mulder slowly moved away from Janice and neared Scully. He lifted her bowed head with his chin and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Let's start this all over again, should we, Janice?" he proposed without drawing his eyes away from Scully's reddened face. Hearing this, Spunk's lips began to twitch into a shy smile.

The woman's face lit up excitedly. "Yes, let's," she agreed, in the same cheery way she used to back in college, whenever he suggested that they watch replays of I Dream of Jeannie.

Beside him, Scully sighed, licked her lips, and placed a hand over his on her shoulder.

"Hi, I'm Janice Christen, his ex-girlfriend way back in college." She offered her hand and Scully took it without hesitation. "And you are?"

"This is my life and the star of the movie I'm directing, Janice. She's Dana Scully," he filled in for Spunk. He half-expected her to stomp on his foot for that sweet sentiment and cutting her off, but instead, she smiled her lilies and carnations grin.

"Hi Ms. Christen. You can call me Dana." They broke off their handshake. Janice stepped away and studied them together. She grinned after a moment.

"And you can call me Janice, Dana."

Mulder felt pride swell up in his heart. He was so proud of Scully for being so nice with the lady; it wasn't everyday that Scully was THIS nice. Sometimes she was Spunk and sometimes she was Scully-girl. Right now, it seemed like he's holding in his arms the girl who confessed to him how much he meant to her a night ago. He's holding Dana Scully in his arms. For real.

As Janice invited them into the apartment, explaining that she was engaged to MTV Director Mr. Dupléra, Mulder pressed a stolen kiss on Scully's lips, just because he could and just because she was WHO she was that moment.

"What ever happened to us, huh, Fox?"

Mulder bit into the homemade croissant, sinking his teeth into the layers of butter and strawberry jam with delight. Through the flaky bread, he was able to answer.

"You never really came back after the rehab … and I suddenly found myself married to a pregnant woman." Hearing this, Janice almost dropped her coffee on the antique marble table. He continued his story. "Diana Fowley. Do you remember her? Brown hair, tall … she used to be a campus nerd until she started smoking crack. I think you argued with her once or twice during us."

Recognition filled his ex-girlfriend's eyes, then they began to sink back into pure disgust. "You married that motherfucker? C'mon Fox, that's damn pathetic. What happened?" She motioned towards him, trying to find words to summon up what she felt for the situation. "H … how did you become this? A Hollywood director and apparently the lucky boyfriend of a gorgeous redhead?"

Mulder twisted his head towards where his gorgeous redhead was. Scully was sitting down on a stool just outside of the open balcony, with Mr. Dupléra busily sketching her features.

It all started the moment they descended up the artist's/director's apartment and met Friedrich (who was busily splashing paint all over his apartment. According to the "engaged" couple, they were remodeling the place to fit it for themselves after their wedding). The gawky and intimidating man eyed Scully with curiosity, pulled her apart from the group, and sat her down the balcony. According to Janice, it was a stern indication that he saw something different within Spunk.

Friedrich asked Mulder for permission to sketch Scully, but since their main reason for the visit was for the MTV, Mulder told him that Mr. Dupléra could sketch his lover ONLY after they discuss business. So they did, and now, an hour and thirty minutes later, Friedrich was happily stroking the immense canvas before him with Scully sitting under the glorious French sun, clad in Janice's black, lacy night-shirt. His woman looked positively radiant underneath the bright sunshine, her hair (which wasn't treated with a perm due to his request; he always thought she looked more beautiful without all the curls) swirling on her shoulders.

Returning to Janice, he sighed deeply. "That's roughly ten years down the road. I have a daughter who's younger than my lover and who's going through marriage therapy, I'm forty-years-old …"

"Here, here!"

"And I feel as if I'm only twenty-five. It feels great to be in love this way."

"I know," Janice replied, casting her hooded eyes towards her fiancée. "Rich means the world to me. After I met him I stopped doing drugs. His art is more passionate than anything else I've tried. I just surrendered to him." A smile found her thin lips. "You're a different man, Fox Mulder. When I met you back then, you were always so uptight, such a workaholic … or a study-holic. You never knew when to quit. Right now… you are so relaxed, so tranquil - as if you've found what you were looking for all along. She … Dana, changed you, didn't she?"

Change had been the main theme of his story with Scully. Yet, change still would never be adequate to ever describe what that petite swirl of red hair and spunk could ever mean to him.

"As I've said, Jan, Dana's my life," he said slowly, picking on the crumbs that he scattered around his plate. "We've only known each other for a year … yet it's like lifetimes ago."

"Then what are you fucking waiting for?" Janice coaxed, waving a spoon in his direction. "Marry her! You shouldn't sit there and wait for divine interference! You shouldn't take her for granted!"

Mulder grinned and shook his head. "No, that's just not us right now. I want marriage in the future, of course, but not now. This is all too new."

Maybe his tone gave him completely away, because within a minute, Janice had her voice lowered down and her head bent closer to his ear, obviously mindful of their lovers' presences in the room.

"Too new? That's bullshit. You told me that its like you have known her lifetimes ago and this relationship's too new? C'mon," she whispered harshly, rolling her eyes. "But I think I understand you, Fox. I look at her and see so much. She's so complicated."

Ms. Dana Scully wasn't nicknamed 'Spunk' for nothing.

Mulder ran a hand through his hair. "That's what makes her even more precious to me. She's layers and layers of complication … knots I have to untangle. Sometimes I'm just pulling and pulling - and the knots get tighter, but there are also times when I would be able to untangle her. I don't know her past … yet the understanding is within me.

"We're like this … so, see? We are in no condition for marriage."

"I think you are just trying to hide the possibility. What if she dies the next day? What if she decided she's had enough of America and she wanted to go back to Wales? What if she looked over her shoulder and found someone else? Do you want to lose your life, Mulder?"

An intense fear captured his heart, clasping it into a tiny shivering ball of muscle. Those things weren't possible, were they? Scully would never leave him. She'd never go back to Wales without him; she'd never replace him… would she? Mulder fidgeted nervously, thrusting the coffee and plate of half-bitten croissant away. He suddenly lost all his appetite.

Janice placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry for that, but I just wanted to drive straight to the point. It's just another point-of-view, you don't have to regard it as anything substantial."

He opened his mouth to say something, but Friedrich rushed over to their table and ended their conversation. The artist revealed a breathtaking sketch of his Scully on his canvas, muttering quick words in French. He handed the artwork to Mulder and he accepted it gratefully, running his eyes and fingertips over the perfect likeness of his lover. Spunk was caught naturally, with her lips slightly parted and her hair mellowed down despite the breeze. Her eyes spoke a thousand words through the canvas, and that moment, Mulder wanted to hand Friedrich an award for capturing Scully's eyes that way. She was so perfect in the picture.

He lifted his head from the sketch and looked over to Scully. She caught his eyes and held them in her deep gaze, the corners of her mouth twisting slightly into a smile.

Fox Mulder, king of Harvard bravado, the college frat boy who once jumped out of a 90 km/ph roaring sedan just to feel the rush of the moment, the Superman of Ms. Dana Scully, the demigod of his daughter, was a blazing bundle of nerves at that moment.

He straightened out his turtleneck shirt's collar for the nth time that evening, darting nervous eyes from one tendril of Scully's hair to another - and inside of his head, he was doing a silent count on how many times his lover cleared her throat to bring him back to her. Right at that moment, she was gazing at him skeptically while sipping her white wine.

He swallowed hard, hiding this behind his beer's froth.

She let out an annoyed laugh, with her eyebrow raising and eyes rolling (and yes, it was only Spunk who could do such an expression). "What's going on, Mulder?" she softly demanded, the British afflection cutting through the dimness of his mind. "I really appreciate what you've done for me tonight. I love this Le Royal's Bar, but I'm not enjoying with you like this. Is there something wrong?"

It felt wrong somewhere deep inside of him, yet Right was telling him that it was fine.

Janice was to thank for the place's recommendation. She told him it was where Friedrich proposed to her, and maybe it could stir up some romanticism between the Director and dancer. Mulder thanked his ex-girlfriend happily, thinking that this was where he could settle his boggling thoughts and maybe … do what he needed to do.

But when they arrived at Le Royal's Bar, it was jam-packed with couples who had similar lovesick expression on their faces. He thought it would be intimate, silent, relaxing … yet he was surprised with almost half of the inhabitants of Paris inside the classy place. For what he wanted to accomplish that evening, he wanted serenity … somewhere that would allow him to focus on Scully alone. Le Royal's Bar definitely wasn't what was on his mind.

When he didn't answer, let alone bat an eyelash, Scully threw him an exasperated sigh. "Mulder, you know patience isn't my middle name. Please speak up."

He looked around steadily, even more nervously. The hippie couple behind their table were already making out like tomorrow would never come. Then there's also a cute geriatric oldies a few feet away from them, gazing at a stack of photos fondly. Finally he blinked and decided that this definitely wasn't the place where he wanted to make his great decision.

"Scully," he started, reaching out across the table and taking her hand into his. Scully gazed at him with wonder, the innocence in her eyes suddenly twinkling beneath the dark lighting of the bar. "Do you want to take a walk outside? There are too many people in this bar. I want some alone time."

The innocence of Scully turned into quizzical and in a split second, he was ushered back into nervousness, the temporary bravado he gathered gone. He was suddenly afraid that she'd sprout that infamous Spunk fire in on him and he'd stumble on his words and intentions. He couldn't screw this damn thing up. If he did, he's just about to screw his life up.

But to his utter luck, his lover relented her grip on her tight composure. "Fine, if that's what it would take for me to hear your side."

Within minutes, they had paid their bill, wrestled their way out of the crowded restaurant, and were strolling along the sidewalks, mindful of the people scattered along the streets in that unique Parisian fashion, sipping tea and enjoying their croissants.

As for both of them, sudden awkwardness took over and they were walking side-by-side, without any direct contact. Scully had her hands tucked under her chest, matching his long strides with her much shorter ones, occasionally glancing at him to see if she could see that he's ready to blurt out what was happening with him.

Inside Mulder was a different story, however. He was afraid - scared even, of asking Scully what he wanted to. It seemed to make sense when Janice lectured him on taking this woman for granted. It did make sense - just NOT right at that moment, with them walking like complete strangers to each other's emotions, desires, needs.

But fuck it; he needed to do this. He needed to feel that he owned her for eternity. He couldn't risk losing this woman. He just couldn't.

He reached out to take Scully by the shoulder. Slowly, gradually, Scully paused and turned around to him. When they were face-to-face, he could see the relief mixed with a multitude of emotions in her eyes. He knew that she could see it in him: fear, trepidation, worry. He was the kindergarten book once again. And she was the reluctant teacher.

"Scully," he started, surprised to even find his voice there. "… Do you know how much I love you?"

She made a shy glance at the people around them, returned her attention back to him, smiled, and nodded. There was confusion in her eyes; he could see it poking out of her, yet she remained still, giving him all the space he needed.

Mulder took a deep breath and Scully's hand, wore a forlorn smile and all the bravado a Mulder could ever have in his blood streams.

"Marry me."

The hand in his turned clammy within a split second after his declaration. Her eyes widened out of proportions, her whole face suddenly paling. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing really came out.

Realizing that he shocked his lover, he ran a hand through his soft hair and began an explanation. Shit, there shouldn't be anything left to realize for him. He should've known that this was going to be her reaction.

"I love you Scully, more than you'll EVEN know. When you came into my life, suddenly there was something different. You were different from every women I've encountered and … and … it was a breath of fresh air. Right from the start, I knew that what I would be having with you was going to be special … was going to be the one I'm here for, the one I've been unconsciously waiting for. From the moment you kicked my ass out of my own home in that absurd way that you do … y-you changed me, Scully. I was this overgrown old man who never never matured. You gave me responsibility, company, love; you gave me need again - when before you I had everything I thought I wanted. When you came along, I suddenly realized that YOU were what I needed all along. Everything is clearer with you around; everything just makes perfect sense - even if you did drive me crazy. But I love the feeling of being crazy because of you. I love the way we argue, I love the way you … God, what else should I say? You know these. You look into my eyes and you know me." He paused for breath, feeling tears stinging the back of his eyeballs, but letting all of his remaining composure control them. Scully wasn't fairing in that department, though: tears were already falling down her pale cheeks. Their hands were still interlocked, so she tried hard with her other hand to catch up on all the drops that were running down her face.

Mulder licked his lips and cupped her cheek, brushing away wayward tears with his thumb. "Please say something. I'm drained, Scully. I just said everything that should be said. Tell me what I don't know. Answer me … will you marry me?"

Scully swallowed hard before saying anything, trying her best to grasp her remaining lifeline of composure. She took the hand that was on her cheek and drew it close to her lips, kissing his palm.

"Mulder… I will marry you, but not now."

…

When her answer went through his ear, through his sense organ, through the network of nerves connected to his brain, then towards his heart, it deemed so damn heavy it felt like his gut was kicked by a horse.

He released her hand and began to walk away mindlessly. His mind was a frightful blank as he strode, wanting to get farther away from her as possible.

"Mulder!" she called out, and he heard her hurried footsteps behind him. Finally, she arrived at his side and painfully pulled him towards her, almost knocking out both of them on the ground. When they were settled, Scully looked up and held his face in between her hands in a death grip. If she placed anymore pressure on her grip, she would crush his skull.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I said I'll marry you! But… just not now."

What kind of answer was that? She'd marry him … but not now? Then what's the point in answering the question at all?

The pain in his gut suddenly grew to gargantuan proportions.

"Do you want me to go down on my knees?" he offered pitifully, the tears he had been holding back springing free like waterfalls from his hazel eyes. "D- do you want … me to buy you a ring? Right here and now? I'll do that, Scully, I'll do anything for you!"

"I know you would, just as I would for you. I don't need you to prove anything for me … y- you already did when you wanted this relationship. I love you too, Mulder, more than you'll also EVEN know… but I also know that someday we'll have the chance of showing each other just how much. What I mean by my answer is that… we're just not ready for this, for marriage," she said desperately, her lower lip quivering. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but we don't need this right now. There are still so many things happening around us, and so many issues we have to fix, then there's also the people who need to know about us. Marriage isn't the answer."

"No, I want us to get married because I can't go on taking you for granted, Scully. What if I woke up and suddenly found a note from you telling me that you're off to Wales because you're tired of America? What if, what if I suddenly get a call from the authorities telling me that you died of a car crash or something - I want it to be legal before your God, before our families, before everyone else. I don't want them to question anything about us."

"Why do you have to think about THEM, Mulder? I never do. I don't care whether the public finds out about us. I love you and I don't care what the world thinks. So I'm half your age, so what? So what if I'm a nobody who's fallen in love with a big-shot Hollywood Producer? The important thing is that I have you. I also don't care how selfish that sounds.

"And I don't… I couldn't leave you, Mulder. I just couldn't. It'll always be in my heart: how you asked me to stay four months ago, how you grabbed me and held me while asking me to stay … it'll always be with me. Even just trying seemed like trying to move the world… Mulder, please understand… you DON'T take me for granted. You don't understand how much you tell me when you show me that you love me."

Before she could continue, Mulder cut her off. "I hurt you so many times Scully. I've hurt you when Emily's baby died, I've hurt you …"

"Why are you even considering that? People make mistakes, Mulder. I've hurt you too, and I console myself because I think that this relationship could never work without the hurt - that it happens, even if you love the person so fucking much. No one's perfect, Mulder … we're both not." She drew forward and pressed a chaste, passion-filled kiss on his lips. "I'll marry you, but not now. This is not what we need. What we need right now is each other. I want you to ask me that question again when you feel that you want to marry me because you want to, not because you need to, promise me that."

"I promise, Scully," he answered immediately, feeling the pain in his gut moving away and his heart growing lighter. He smiled slightly, allowing Scully to trace his tears away with her fingers, reaching his arms out and watching her fit perfectly into his embrace. Scully burrowed her head on his chest.

"I just have the rest of my life to wait for you to ask that question again, Mulder. I'm not going anywhere anyway. Are you?"

Mulder laughed, kissed her forehead, and stared deep into her watery blue eyes. "No, I guess I'm stranded here with you, Ms. Scully."

The lilies and carnations grin was made, the smile so wide it reached her eyes. It had to be one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen on her.

"And that's what I want, Mr. Mulder. That's what I want."

END OF CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

A/N: I'm dedicating all the chapters set in Paris (written fifteen years ago) to all the victims of the senseless attacks in the same city last week.

Je suis France. Je suis monde. Je suis vous.