Date: Sun, 17 May 1998

TITLE: "Candles of Ice"
BY: Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY: V, A, deep friendship (My version of it anyway
- I usually write MSR - in this one there is no kissing
or declarations of love, but I think their bond is clear
enough. In some stories I'm trying to strike a balance
like Vickie Moseley manages so effortlessly, to please
the romantics & the friendshippers. Let me know how I
go...)
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: With Mulder still unconscious from the
retrovirus, Scully faces a lonely birthday in Alaska.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Set during and after "End
Game". References to the Abduction trilogy, "Tooms" and
"Lazarus".

Author's ravings, er, notes are at the end. Put down the
wet noodles, Debbie; I've done it at last! (And thanks
for editing.)

DEDICATION: To Lisa, who has the same tastes in fanfic as
me, is always encouraging, stays up until 3:30am after an
episode to e-mail me the details and then answers my
barrage of questions about the important aspects (Like:
"What was the expression on his face when he said that?
How close were they? She *touched* him? Give me the grid
references!"). Thank you, my friend.

DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and the characters of Mulder and
Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions
and Fox Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be
gained.

The X-Files: "Candles of Ice"
by Ten, written Dec/Jan, posted January 1998

Nine in the morning. Scully sighed as she squinted at the
watch in her hand. She lay back in bed and strapped it
onto her wrist. Nine - she would be at the Bureau by now
if she was in D.C., in the basement office with Mulder
shooting through slides of a case like he was at the
firing range. Talking animatedly.

If.

But Mulder had not spoken to her for three weeks.

And it scared her that she was struggling to recall the
sound of his voice. So much so, yesterday she even rang
his apartment just to get the answering machine. Hearing
him say: "Hello, this is Fox Mulder; leave a message
please." reassured her as well as upset her. He was never
_Fox_ Mulder to her.

However, his name could be Denise as far as she cared -
she just wanted him back with her!

Five past nine in the morning. She should get up. Slept
in again - because she tossed and turned last night.
Surely by now he would have woken up? But he remained
unconscious. Usually the weight of the world rested
heavily on his shoulders - she almost got him a statue of
Atlas for Christmas. This time, though, not being content
with that, her partner hefted a burden the medical staff
were calling "*out* of this world" - a retrovirus the
likes of which they had never seen before.

And Mulder had broken under the strain.

A naval recon unit found him on the ice flow and
choppered him to Eisenhower Field at Deadhorse, Alaska.
Two jolts to get his heart beating again. A respirator to
aid his lungs. Endless blood transfusions and anti-viral
agents. Scully prayed constantly that Deadhorse would not
become "Deadfox".

He survived. Whether through his own stubbornness or the
fact she would not let him go, it didn't matter. Inch by
inch over the days he progressed.

Nine-ten in the morning. /Come on, Dana. Time to get up./
She eased herself out of the cot. She didn't need to pick
her cross up from the tiny dressing table - it never left
her neck. She shared the room with one of the nurses, who
must have got up for duty today without waking her. Dana
only hoped that in her restlessness she had not kept Lisa
awake. The FBI agent had asked at the start of the long
haul if she could sleep in Mulder's room, but as he
improved Doctor Herek decided it would be best for Scully
if she went on breaks from him. "You staring at him while
he's got a tube up his nose might be giving him a
complex."

She dressed and went out to check on Mulder before
breakfast. These days she showered at night to ease
muscles and bones stiff from sitting.

"Ah, you're awake!" Lisa called as she came out into the
corridor which contained the nurses' station and his
room. "No change in Mulder, yet."

"Thanks. I'll just say good morning to him, then I'll
head for the mess hall."

"Great, I'll meet you there."

Scully was puzzled by that. She knew everyone's shifts by
now and Lisa was on duty for another two hours. She
peered at the tall blonde, only to receive an innocent
look in return.

"Oh, your mother phoned. I said you'd ring back when you
woke up."

"Thanks. But first, Sleeping Beauty..."

Lisa turned off the intercom connection to Mulder's room.
It would be put back on when Scully came out. Just like
every other time, every day.

Dana went in to see him. The same sight greeted her. His
eyes were closed. Fingers limp. Egyptian mummies would be
more animated. At least he was alive. She forced a smile
and sat down in her chair for their morning ritual.

"Good morning, Mulder. Yeah, sorry I'm late. I slept in.
Don't make them dock my pay, huh?" She patted his hand.
"You can't tell me you enjoy having the naso-gastric tube
in - just wake up and we'll take it out. I'll even feed
you jello by hand. And make the aeroplane noises."
Nothing. He had come so far but this was getting
frustrating. The mere fact that he was breathing had
sustained her on a high for days, then each time a tube
could be discarded was a victory, yet now... He was down
to a central line I.V., the feeding tube and a catheter.
Nothing else was going to shift until he did.

"Ah well, nothing much has happened. The Gunmen say those
UFO sightings in Arizona last week were a hoax by the
Coell ranch out for tourism dollars. Do you agree with
them?" She paused, giving him the opportunity to answer
as usual. Nothing. /Come on, partner! I filled you in on
all the details - you must have an opinion!/

She made absolutely sure the intercom wasn't on, then
kept speaking. "I think Lisa has the hots for Corpsman
Marchant. But he's so nervous around her. I think he's
too afraid to ask her out." A noise broke the silence. A
grumbling sound. She peered hopefully at Mulder, then
realised the culprit. She laughed. "Yeah, that was my
stomach growling - I haven't had breakfast yet. It wants
real food, Mulder. Remember that? Food that your
tastebuds actually get to experience on the way down?
I'll go get something to eat and call Mom, then I'll come
back and we'll keep reading 'The Colour of Magic'. Can't
wait to see what Rincewind gets up to next. Just like
you. But I'm warning you, Mulder - we're nearly at the
end of that one, and the only book the nurses have left
for us after that is 'Pollyanna'."

Well, apart from a lot of bodice rippers. Lisa lent her
one four days ago, saying she needed a change of pace.
Dana found she unconsciously carried it with her that day
into Mulder's room, and after a few hours of sitting with
him and talking, she decided to give them both a rest by
remaining there having a private read while taking
comfort in his presence. Unfortunately it wasn't until
she was so into it (several bodices and breeches already
casualties) that she realised she was reading it all *out
loud* by habit.

A hasty trip out into the freezing air hadn't taken much
of the edge off her bone-deep blush... /Probably be the
one thing he will end up recalling me reading to him!/

Terry Pratchett was much safer. /And funnier,/ she
thought as she went back into the corridor. Breakfast
first though - no, wait. She decided to ring her mother
first, over her tummy's objections. Past ten - it would
be mid-afternoon back home.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, darling. How's the birthday girl?"

Scully gaped at the phone. "Birthday? You mean it's..."

"Yes, Dana. I wondered if you were noticing the days.
It's February 23. Happy Birthday, Love!"

She remembered Mom being anxious last week, asking how
long she thought Mulder would still remain unconscious.
When Scully said that with recovery time they would be in
Deadhorse for several more weeks, providing Mulder kept
improving at the rate he was, Maggie sounded a little
disappointed, then rallied.

Scully had forgotten her own birthday before, when doing
her killer medical exams. This was different. She was
away from home and she didn't even have Mulder. She was
stunned and upset and wanted to cry tears of frustration
and fear. How could she celebrate?

"I sent some presents up for you in a big box," Maggie
continued. "Some from me and some from the rest of the
family. Ben made a drawing for Fox to look at as he gets
better. Lots of bright colours."

"I'll ask Lisa if it arrived. When did you send it?"

"I've talked to Lisa, dear. I let them know it was coming
days ago. They got it in plenty of time. How's Fox?"

"His vitals are stronger. He still hasn't woken up..."

"Tell him if he doesn't today, he'll miss out on the
cake!"

She managed to laugh to cover her feelings. Stuck in
Alaska today of all days. With not even Mulder's jokes to
keep her balanced. All the worries she had shouldered
were now pressing down unbearably hard. Her mother said
they were both in her prayers, and she would light a
candle for each of them - an ordinary one for Fox, a
birthday one for her.

Dana hung up the phone a few minutes later with tears
sliding across her skin. She sniffled and walked back
towards Mulder's room. Susan, the head nurse, passed her
on the way.

"Hey, D, you haven't had breakf - what's wrong?"

"Nothing...I'll be along soon. I just need to sit with
Mulder for a little."

Susan nodded. She was a woman of high efficiency and deep
tenderness. She and Lisa had provided great support for
Dana and her vigil over all this time. At the beginning
of it all, Lisa had been the one who tried to escort
Scully out of the ER when she barged in making demands.
"I had no idea what I was dealing with," Lisa said one
night, chuckling as she lay in her bed and Dana in her
cot, "but seeing you with him, I do now..."

Scully re-entered his room and sat down in the chair by
his side. She reached out and stroked his cheek with her
finger. "Mulder? Mulder, it's me. If you can hear me, I
want you to listen really, really carefully, okay? It's
my birthday. Fancy that, huh? More grey hairs." She tried
to smile, but swallowed. "I need you here, Mulder. I need
you here with me for my birthday. I know you've already
fought so hard to live and I'm so grateful for that. But
please try. Just for a little while. Wake up for me."

Surely that would bring him back? Give his soul a
spiritual kick? Surely he wouldn't be as selfish as to
sleep through today? He wouldn't be that lost...

And what about *his* birthday back in October? Dana
realised she had not been there for that. She didn't know
*where* she had been in that horrible three month blank
of time. Just that it was gone, Mulder's birthday
swallowed up in it. Wherever she was, did she know of the
passing of days - whether it was night-time or even
sunshine? Did she know when it was October 13? How must
Mulder have felt? He didn't even have her comatose body
to plead with - that hadn't come until weeks later.

She knew what Mulder did on his birthday last year. She
knew with certainty. He had sat in his apartment staring
at photos of her and Samantha. And holding his gun. Just
as lifeless as he was now.

Mulder listened to Scully's regular morning message, glad
she had slept in, and mildly alarmed about the threat of
being subjected to 'Pollyanna'. The routine of her talks
comforted him and let him know everything was all right.
In his time at Oxford he couldn't remember anyone looking
forward to the Queen's Christmas Message as eagerly.

He wished he could reassure her by responding, by opening
his eyes and talking. But at the moment he was inanimate.
Other people manipulated his body - the doctor, the
nurses, hands bathing and changing him, checking, poking,
rearranging him in the bed so he wouldn't wake up with a
heck of a crick in the neck - but as yet he couldn't do
it himself. All he could do was breathe and listen and
focus on getting better. He was so tired. Sleep was his
only truth at the moment. Darkness a comfort for once.

Then came her second message of the day. Not a message -
a plea. He was jolted by the difference in the words. Her
birthday and she was alone. /No, she has the nurses, and
they're planning a party for her - you heard them
discussing it over you like you were a coffee table./
However, it was clear that Dana wanted him present for
this. Some present...

Could he do that? Could he open his eyes for a minute or
so? He really did not know. He tried to while she talked.
Nothing.

He owed her. After all she had done to save him, the
least he could do would be to wake up for a few seconds.
He kept trying, even after her presence was gone from
him. Zip. He was just wearing himself out.

Birthday. The birthday he faced last year. Alone. Nothing
comforting about the darkness which surrounded him then.
A light had taken Dana away from him. The same light he
was sure took Sam all those years ago. Both gone. His
world destroyed twice over. All his efforts in vain.
Happy Birthday, Fox.

No cake. The only thing he wanted to eat was his gun. He
did not know how he survived that day.

Dana was facing the darkness today. The horrible
loneliness and loss. For as long as he had been able to
hear her voice, for however long he had floated here, her
voice was strong and reassuring. (And so sexily
breathless while reading that snippet of what sounded
like a script for a porn vid...) Now he realised her
voice today held a fear, an anxiety he never heard
before, no matter what the situation.

He could not let her face the darkness for a moment
longer than necessary. It would end today.

Brave words. Now to work on turning them into the truth.

The second Dana entered the mess hall she was inundated
with cheers of "Happy Birthday!" (and "We never thought
you'd get here!") The staff had gone to such effort for
her, digging out decorations and party hats and making a
chocolate cake. Maggie's presents were already carefully
unpacked and set out on a table with other gifts.
Presents from everyone on the base, it seemed. Their
kindness overwhelmed her, and she felt guilty for
unknowingly making them wait by delaying her breakfast.

"You...you all didn't have to get me anything..." she
protested quietly as Lisa moved in to hug her. "All the
help you've given Mulder and me, we can never repay it."

Dr Herek shook his head, resplendent in his green paper
cone hat. "Dana, we were the ones who nearly killed him."

"You didn't know about the virus. You were following
procedure."

"Well, I think you need a celebration. We would have
loved to have Mulder sitting up here too. If we could
have, we would. The best thing we can do is light these
candles and give you the opportunity of a wish."

"He might wake while I'm -"

"Susan's watching him," Lisa reassured. She had juggled
her shift so she could be here for Dana. "I'm sorry you
can't be with your family today."

"I'm not giving up on Mulder making an appearance. And I
think I have a pretty damn good substitute family around
me at the moment. Now I'll deal with these candles so we
can hit this delicious looking cake!"

Cheers went up. Herek lead everyone in singing Happy
Birthday. Dana blew the candles out. No one needed to ask
what her wish was. But Susan did not come rushing in to
tell her that her extinguishing of so many flames had
sparked off another down the corridors.

Dana found herself feeling happy yet disconcerted. It
took her a while to work out that it was strange to be
around so many people at once. And awake people, no less.
No one-sided conversations. These people responded and
initiated. Their cheeks were rosy, eyes sparkling. She
still couldn't quite enjoy herself.

The doctors raised a glass of non-alcoholic drink to the
discovery and defeat of the amazing retrovirus, and
though they were scientists, heartily hoped they would
never encounter it again. It was one of the reasons why
Mulder had not been medi-vaced back to D.C. after he
could breathe on his own; even though his body was
showing no signs of the virus any more, the top brass
wanted him to remain in this isolated setting a while
longer.

Scully unwrapped presents and mingled, thanking the
people who had to leave because their shifts were going
to start and they couldn't stay any longer. She observed
Lisa looking round in vain for a sign of the absent
Corpsman Marchant, and began silently plotting.

Ten minutes later, Marchant did enter the mess hall,
carrying a present. He came over and gave the birthday
girl a smile and peck on the cheek. /Whooooo.../ Dana
thought, /What a grin! Why doesn't he use it on Lisa?
He's not aware of its power,/ she realised, /and even if
he did, he'd be too shy to use it on her. He doesn't feel
that way about me, so there's no pressure./ She wondered
if Lisa felt any twinge of jealousy at the little kiss.
/Nah - she's so sweet, she wouldn't. She knows it's just
a congratulations kiss. No reason to want to deck me./
Then she pictured Lisa giving Mulder 'a little kiss' to
welcome him back to the world, and her knuckles started
itching of their own volition...

Miles Marchant handed over the brightly wrapped parcel,
and Dana took it with a feeling of guilt, knowing that a
lot of her friends here had unselfishly raided their own
possessions to give her something because at this time in
winter the Post Exchange was loaded with food and
practical supplies, not very much in the way of special
gifts. And by the time they knew it was her birthday
there would not have been much time to plan or order in.

"I hope you like it," Miles said as she worked at the
paper. She noticed his gaze was drifting not-so-casually
around the room, and he swallowed abruptly, dropping his
eyes as he encountered paydirt.

Scully tried to disguise her smile. He was six-foot two.
Mulder was six foot, which seemed hard to believe now.
Three weeks of him being *below* her eye level had
changed so much of her perception. The globe had tumbled
off the shoulders of Atlas, and everything was upside
down. There was hardly any light in the world.

A Terry Pratchett book: "The Carpet People". Dana laughed
in delight. "Miles - thank you!"

"When I came into the room to give you your mail, I saw
you were reading the first Discworld one to Mulder. I
don't have my full collection with me, otherwise I would
have given you the second. I know this one isn't one of
that series, but it is funny."

"Just what I need. And Mulder will thank you for delaying
the onslaught of 'Pollyanna'." A thought struck her.
"Actually, Miles, Lisa was the one who lent me 'The
Colour of Magic' - sounds like you are both big fans."
/Of each other too,/ she thought as she waved Lisa over.

Miles looked stricken. And alarmed. And happy. As he
watched Lisa heading over to them, Scully kept him beside
her with a gentle, casual hand on his arm. "We can all
discuss Discworld," she reassured him, hoping that her
presence would relax both their nervousness. Then when
they loosened up a bit, she would strategically excuse
herself...

It worked like a charm. Miles and Lisa soon forgot she
was there, and Dana did not blame them. Just watching
them made her feel happy. She had done some good - they
looked perfect together. She decided to do a final lap of
the remaining people before bowing out of her party to
sit with Mulder.

Scully encountered Susan in the corridor leading off the
mess hall and instantly sucked in breath. "Is he awake?"

"No, D. Sorry to get your hopes up. I just came to catch
the tail end of the party, if it was still going."

"Winding up now - thank you for the sweater. Lovely
colours, and it will be great to wear something
different."

They turned and went back the way Susan had come.

"Who's looking after -"

"We left the intercom on and the girls were going to do a
regular visual check, just like when you're asleep or on
break. Remember?" She smiled at the FBI agent's
apologetic look. "I know you're full of hope for today.
They're probably doing the visual checks a little too
often, but when I comment they just say there isn't
anything that handsome on TV..."

Susan left her at the door to the room which had become
her world. It was a prison, yet one simple, monumental
act could change it into paradise.

The feeding tube was gone. Dana stared, wondering why.
Only for a second though; the tube had probably gotten
blocked and so been removed. His head was turned away
from her. She knew it was from the range-of-motion
exercises, but it stung like a rejection. She sat and
held his arm. She was out of words. Almost out of hope
and strength.

Drained, Scully bowed her head to collect herself. And so
she missed the moment her present opened itself.

Himself.

The faint sound of his stirring did reach her, and she
opened her eyes to find his own roaming dazedly across
the ceiling. Joy swept through her at this gift. Sure,
she had received and unwrapped dolls in her pre-teen
years that were in better condition than the weakened man
in front of her. But she would not trade him for even a
superbuff, superendowed man in a g-string bursting out of
a giant cake.

Light. Mulder blinked in confusion. Everything was so
bright and he had no idea where he was. He felt so
crushingly tired and wondered why he was even bothering
to look around. Sleep... Sleep was beckoning to him, more
bewitching than any singing siren of old.

"Hey, how you feeling?"

*Almost* any siren. He managed to turn his head. Even
exhausted, Scully looked great. Things started coming
back to him as he answered her question. Not finding
Samantha but finding some hope to hold onto. Lying in the
darkness for so long, unable to tell when the transition
occurred between the iceflow and here. Wherever here was.
However he got here. He asked. She answered in a voice he
knew she used when she was trying to rein her emotions
in.

Had he found what he was looking for?

In a way, yes. "Faith to keep looking..." He felt her
fingers tighten on his arm.

"You're okay," she reassured him. "You need lots of
rest."

No argument there. Sleep was weaving around him in a more
powerful grip, and he didn't want to fight it any more.
There was something though. Something important... "What
day is it?" How long had he stranded them both here for?
Three days? Her voice had come more often than that. He
tried to think...

"February 23." Scully waited to see if he made the
connection, but if he didn't, it didn't matter. He was as
frail as tissue paper, but he was back. He would not
remain awake much longer. What she had just been given
was enough.

"Oh..." he murmured, eyes closed. Drifting off. His weary
mind still did a little processing: he had gone out on
the ice-flow on Feb 3. Twenty days. /Yee. I'm in
trouble... And we're still up here at Eisenhower - no
D.C. hospital has walls of corrugated iron.../ There was
more to it than that though. Sleep was tugging, his body
gripped firmly amongst its teeth. He tugged in turn at
his mind, annoyed yet as curious as ever for an answer.

Scully fought to keep tears of joy and relief and
exhaustion stuck to her eyeballs as she watched him
surrendering. A few minutes of awareness. Okay,
'Superstars of the Superbowl' had gone for an hour and a
half...no way could it compare though. She took the image
and wrapped it in a bow to store with her important
memories.

His eyes popped open. "Omigod!"

"Mulder -"

His gaze was full of anguish, full of tears. "Your
birthday... Oh God, Scully, *your birthday*!" He tried to
move, but couldn't. He was so weak, he couldn't even shed
his tears. "What've I done?"

"Mulder, it's okay -"

"*Okay*?" he croaked, incredulous. His eyelids drooped
and he forced them open again. "You're stuck here...in
the freezing wastes of Alaska...on your birthday, because
of me." His voice kept croaking and breaking up.

"Shhh, Mulder, please calm down. You need to rest. It's
okay. It's not your fault." Her spilling tears were not
backing up her confession, and she knew he would misread
them. "All I wanted..."

"Dana, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He battled at the
exhaustion with even more determination than he'd faced
down the bounty hunter, raining silent insults on himself
like blows. How *could* he have done this to her?

"No, *I'm* sorry - you've just given me a great gift, and
all I'm giving you is tears."

"I've kept you from your family and presents and home on
your birthday - and I only meant to protect you..."

"I know. I understand. You didn't plan it this way. I'm
just so glad you came back. Now give me an even bigger
present - go to sleep and heal. Heal so we can go home."

Mulder's eyes closed. Scully kept sitting and watching
him. It was frightening how he just reverted back to the
corpse-like state. She almost wondered if she had
imagined him waking.

Suddenly his tired voice broke through her thoughts. He
was awake again. He probably hadn't gone off to sleep -
merely lay there to gather his resources. "Meant to get
you something... Saw a pair of earrings two months ago
but thought it was too...risky..."

"A pair of hazel eyes was all I wanted." She laughed.

He joined in weakly, managing a few chuckles. "Dana the
Macabre..." After the stunt he'd pulled he should be
lucky that she didn't want two other round pieces of his
anatomy as earrings instead.

"Hey, the Gothic look is in," she protested. Then
whispered, "Sleep." It sounded as tender as a declaration
of love. "Come on, Present. Time to wrap you up in dreams
for a while."

"So you can play with me later?"

"As soon as I find the batteries," she promised with a
wink.

His eyes nearly popped out. She giggled at his
expression. Another wrappable moment.

"Okay..." he said slyly. "I guess with the state I'm in,
that's fair enough. I'll muster my resources so we can
try the scullery scene. In detail." His hoarse voice
deliberately lingered on 'scullery'. "Sounds fitting to
me."

This time her expression was the classic. It *had* been a
scene so hot it was a wonder the page wasn't on fire...
She choked, halfway caught between howling with mirth or
strangling his skinny neck. She composed herself. "Sure,
as long as you're the maid and I'm the head of the house.
Only fair, because you are, after all, completely at my
mercy... I'll read every syllable of 'Pollyanna' so you
don't miss a detail. And I'm sure it has scullery scenes.
You can do the maid's voice."

Mulder sighed at her wicked grin. And her wicked words.
"I just can't beat you, can I?"

"Nope."

"Fair enough..." He let sleep reel him in.

Dana sat by him a while longer, then went out into the
corridor, where she let her tears fall as she wrapped her
arms around herself and slumped against the wall.

"Dana!" Susan's voice was sheer alarm. "What's wrong?
What's happened?"

Scully managed to look up through her tears. "He woke up
- he woke up for me. Everything's fine. If he didn't, I
don't know what I would have..." She broke off and buried
herself in Susan's shoulder, crying and laughing.

A bit later she pulled away, wiped at her face and took a
swipe at her hair. "Sorry; I'm a mess." She sniffled.

Susan chuckled. "D, you're glowing so much you'll melt
the snow! Now I'd better let Dr Herek know so he can
check on our boy. I can't wait to see if he's as stubborn
as you say he is."

"He is," she answered with joyful pride. "Just as
impossible as ever." Suddenly she was even more glad that
she could not remember her missing three months. Not just
for whatever happened to her, but if Mulder had not been
with her she definitely did not want to know about it. If
only she could wipe out the horror of the time for him
too.

"So I should put out a warning that those sexy hazel eyes
are in back in business?"

"He'll be in no condition to beat anyone off."

"That's why he has you, isn't it?"

They reached the nurses' station, and Susan went to make
the call to Herek. Dana remembered something and hurried
away to the payphone.

"Hello?"

"He woke up, Mom," she blurted.

"Thank God! Is he all right?"

"Yeah - I think he'll be grovelling for weeks when we get
back to D.C. I'll make the most out of it. He woke up
about -" She glanced at her watch. "- forty minutes ago."

There was a long pause.

"Mom?" Scully asked worriedly.

"That's when... Dana, I lit your birthday candle three-
quarters of an hour ago."

"What?"

"I lit a candle for Fox after I spoke to you today, and I
was about to light the one for you when Jean dropped by
for a gossip and coffee. I didn't get around to it until
within the last hour."

"Oh." It was all she could say. What else could she say?
Her mother's news just reinforced what she already knew.
So she began thanking her mother for the presents, giving
her messages to pass on to the rest of the family, and
telling her about the party. Her finger traced the links
of her necklace.

Mulder's sleep was peaceful for a few hours, but then his
subconscious began ticking over again. /It's her
birthday... It's her *birthday*, you dolt! And thanks to
you, what is she doing? She's stranded in Alaska looking
after you!/

He felt terribly guilty. Three weeks ago, Scully's
birthday had seemed so far away. Actually, a few days
before that he had been frantic that Scully would not be
alive for her birthday. He had Sam back, but then Scully
was kidnapped. Because of him. Because of Sam. It was the
abduction all over again. He managed to get her back,
only to relose his sister. It was like one could not
remain in his life if the other was present.

Scully, her head bleeding, small frame shaking with
shock... So when the opportunity came to go after the
Pilot, there was no way he would put his partner in
danger again. He thought he'd done it right - left a
note, said why, covered his tracks.

Yet he'd still screwed it up. Sure, he had not meant to
contract the retro-virus, but that was little consolation
for Dana now. Thoughts tumbled through him. Shooting the
Pilot, seeing the green blood, the awful gases hitting
him, invading his body. Remembrance of the Erlenmeyer
flask case, and what Scully said about Agent Weiss.
/Well, Scully, I know how the virus is transmitted.../ He
was painfully aware of his blood curdling, trying to deal
with the threat.

How had he survived? Not wanting to leave Scully and
Samantha was a big part of it, but Scully's medical
knowledge, especially about this virus, was an even
bigger factor, as well as her character. He recalled
snatches of conversation he'd picked up from the doctors
and nurses. When Scully wasn't speaking he usually
disregarded all other voices. They weren't speaking to
him anyway. But sometimes they mentioned her name and
instantly had his attention.

They spoke about her with awe and respect. Storming into
the ER, taking on any authority in her way. The long days
and nights which followed. The treatments she insisted
on.

/You didn't even get her a present.../

Did she say that *he* was her gift? /How can she think of
me as a gift? She should exchange me! Perhaps she will./

Dana was coming back from a walk around the hallways when
she saw Lisa escorting Miles into their room. /Hmmm.
Wonder if that's just to chat about Discworld?/ She
grinned. /Better not go in there for a while anyway, just
in case./ She mentally signed her name to the memory, put
a case-file number on it, congratulated herself on a job
well done, and filed it away.

She headed for Mulder's room. Too late she thought of the
drawing her nephew made for him. Well, it was back in her
room, so it would have to wait until tomorrow. She
doubted Mulder would wake up again today. It was a
miracle he remained conscious for as long as he did.

Susan was just exiting. She had the exact same "I am
*not* happy" look Skinner wore after meetings with her
partner.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going to give him a sedative if you can't calm him.
I warned him, but he won't settle. He summoned the nurses
over the intercom. Said he didn't want them to get you -
he had something else in mind. Had them running around
trying to do his bidding. And refused to let another
feeding tube within 50 yards of either nostril, so I told
Trish to feed him...it worked, only he kept trying to
rope her into his plans, so I'm not sure how much
sustenance he got between talking... And you were spot on
about those eyes - what you didn't warn me about was how
sexy his voice is even when it's hoarse. Whew! I'd try to
firmly tell him to leave my girls alone and go to sleep,
then I'd try threatening him, but hell, one look and I'm
mush..." She shook her head and tapped absently at her
wedding ring. "No wonder you're so strong willed. It's
the only way to cope!"

"Why? What does he want?"

"You'd better ask him yourself." Susan put both hands up
in defeat and backed away. "I'm keeping everyone away
from him until he's unconscious, otherwise none of us
will get any work done."

Scully reentered the room to find a frustrated Mulder.
"What's wrong?" she asked him calmly.

"Is it still your birthday? I didn't sleep right through
the rest of the day, did I?" he asked anxiously, trying
to judge the darkness through the windows. He was
frantically trying to recall just how many hours of
sunlight per day this area of Alaska got at this time of
the year. The figure escaped him, but it would not be
much.

"Still my birthday here. Not in D.C. Why, Mulder? I told
you it didn't matter."

He sighed, relieved. "Of course it matters. I've been
lying here thinking of what to give you."

"Mulder..."

He pressed on, "I was asking the nurses if they had
anything I could buy off them or get them to go to the PX
for, but I keep losing my trail of thought." He was
disgusted with himself. "I can't concentrate properly...
Most of the nurses had already given you what they could
as their own presents." He gazed blankly at the ceiling,
suddenly frowning and struggling, lost, before he picked
up the thread of the conversation again. "I wondered what
I have to offer. I tried to remember what I was carrying
on me in my pockets, but nothing appropriate, unless you
want a cool computerised compass, slightly battered."

She sat down and took his hand, shaking her head in
wonder. "You don't have to do this." A sedative might be
a good idea, however she wanted to convince him first
that he didn't owe her anything more. An exhausted,
determined Mulder was dangerous, especially to himself.
She let him talk out his options so he wouldn't wake up
tomorrow bashing himself up in anger.

"I'll spare you my singing -"

"Yours wouldn't be any worse than mine."

"Tried to think of a suitable poem I'd read so I could
recite it. Even tried to make one up. Couldn't think of
one which said just what I wanted to say." His eyes went
blank for a few minutes, and just when she was about to
go get a sedative he got back on track. "Could offer you
my body...but let's face it, it's in worse shape than the
compass."

"It's okay. What you have given me is more than enough.
Mulder, I was scared that you would die. But you held on.
And you woke up with perfect timing. That was all I
wanted. It was more than I had the right to ask for."

"But I still want to - as a thank you -"

"Mulder...last year...*I* missed your birthday..."

His fingers tightened. "You came back."

"Not on your birthday. I would have if I could have..."

"I should have found you. But you came back. You lived.
That was all *I* wanted. More than I deserved. I wish it
had been sooner, but I'm just glad it was at all."

"We're both here today. You don't owe me anything more.
Actually, I owe you a video. We don't swap birthday
presents, we swap 'congratulations for coming out of your
coma' presents. Only in the X-Files..."

There had to be *something*... A few more lost minutes
passed. A memory came to him. Another time he felt so
tired. A surprise move from Scully, a quick and regretted
reply from him. "I can give you one thing. One thing that
is in my power," he said.

She tilted her head as an inquiry.

"I give you permission to call me Fox. I know that isn't
much..." He saw from the way the smile bloomed on her
face that it meant much more than he thought possible.
Such a small thing to make her happy. Just like opening
his eyes. He would have to remember that. The smiles she
had granted him with today had been incredible. His
memory put each in a gold frame, ready to present to him
whenever he wanted to think about them. He had a feeling
they would keep him from falling over the edge in
dangerous times to come.

"It means a lot." /My God, this man gives wonderful non-
present presents!/ It was another connection, another
piece laid down to strengthen their partnership. He was
entrusting her with a name he let few others use.

"I'm glad."

His face muscles on his right cheek began moving, and
Scully wondered if he was about to smile. But he seemed
more frustrated than... She realised that he was trying
to move his right hand across his body to join his left
in holding her hand, but he only had the strength to inch
it onto his hip and no further.

/He's already holding my hand, why does he have to do
things the hard way?/

Because he was who he was. Or they would not be here. And
the simple moments would not feel so special.

Scully picked up his left hand, then placed it against
her cheek. She secured it there with her left hand and
gently rubbed his forearm with her right.

"Happy Birthday, Dana," he whispered as his eyes closed.

"It is, Fox. Thank you."

THE END.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I was watching "End Game" (as is my habit because I love
it to pieces) a few months ago when I noticed something I
never had before - when Mulder is out on the iceflow
heading for the submarine, there is a closeup of his
computerised SatNav global positioning device, which
gives the date as February 3, 1995.

The date sent me scurrying for a calendar. Fanfic has
given Mulder varying lengths of coma/unconsciousness
after being treated for the retrovirus - three weeks
seems to be the most often used period, and I've always
liked that because it really showed how serious Mulder's
condition was (and didn't just dismiss it like in
"Fearful Symmetry"). So if we took three weeks from Feb
3, wouldn't that put it damn close to Scully's birthday?

Yes! So she would be stuck in Alaska for her birthday. No
wonder Mulder didn't remember it that year... And I also
realised that Scully was missing during October 1994,
which was Mulder's birthday, so there was a fanfic
begging to be written. I touched on it briefly in another
fic, but wanted to give this idea its own little story. A
lot of the dialogue came to me in a pub where my aunt and
I went to celebrate her birthday, so I had to whip out my
notebook and scribble it down. She understood but
commented: "If you were on a date, the guy might not feel
the same!"