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Rooted in Friendship

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Two weeks of back to back work without a single day off. Two weeks they had not shared a bed or much else. Scully’s misadventures with CGB Spender resulted in total avoidance and communication breakdown. They had regressed back into their groove, although it was anything but comfortable. How could they find their way back to each other?


Mulder relapsed into ordering Scully around as if she was his personal assistant and took offense when she balked at the thought of them spending the weekend together in England. In his mind they would get a chance to hopefully experience some paranormal phenomena, show her his old stomping grounds, and roam the English countryside. Most importantly, be them again. He thought some time away from the office would help them reconnect, mend what was now in disarray. Their inability to sync wavelengths hurt him. Her words cut him as her expression and disdain for following him into the night broke his heart. He would wander alone. Maybe distance would prove cyclical and in essence center them both.

As he was packing to hop across the pond he felt the pull on his heart. In an attempt to stay connected, he called her to ask if maybe she could speak to some people for him that had different coordinates. He was using his old standby to keep her with him. Her answer vibrated in his chest, the blood oozed out as the vice tightened. The last time she took this tone she ended up with a tattoo and another notch in her belt named Ed Jerse. Even so, her voice had a softness resulting from their intimate relationship without the brass it had in past years. He knew they must resolve this when he got back before his soul became a black hole.

He called her one last time to pass information. Their talking without talking was grading.   Hearing her sweet voice was a mistake.

Once in England, Mulder had the night to himself.  With a cleared calendar, he thumbed through his contacts and paused when he got to Phoebe’s number.  He knew she would answer and would be eager to see him.  They were now strangers and he wanted to keep it that way.  Pressing the delete button he decided instead to meet up with one of his buddies from college. They were able to get the old gang together and had a great time reliving memories and laughs. That night he received a call from Garrison to setup a meeting for the following night.

Sunday morning Mulder found himself with renewed energy enjoying a brisk early morning run.  The signs of spring were all around with trees and flowers starting their bloom. The sweet smell of freshly cut grass filled his nose. Before investigating the crop circles, Mulder had a mission he needed to complete.  He hiked off into the woods to a waterfall he knew well. Reaching into his backpack he removed Scully’s poppet and placed it under a pile of rocks beneath the running water.  This was about as far away from her home that he could get which was what was needed to remove any possible curses.  He placed an offering of fruit and some coins with the doll weighing it down and hiding it from sight.  Once that was done he asked the spirits of the trees and the water to transform the negative energy through the powers of the earth so no harm could ever come of it.  He walked away and never looked back. 

After little deliberation, the crop circles ended up being false. Total waste of time; Scully was right. By the time he met up with Garrison, he was afraid there would be more bad news. Mulder was halfway through his second beer when he saw Garrison enter the dimly lit pub. He was a stoutly man of medium height with a graying beard and mustache. His hair was slightly longer than your average professor with a thin braided rattail in the back. Mulder had become friends with Garrison while they were at Oxford years before either of them uttered the word extraterrestrial. Garrison at the time was obtaining his doctorate in astrobiology. His studies also included a minor in archeology which he later expanded to include xenoarcheology, the study of material remains used to reconstruct and interpret past life-ways of alien civilizations. He was also a member of ICAR, the international scientific community for alien research. Garrison greeted Mulder with a firm hand shake as he slid into the corner booth. “Good afternoon my friend.   These are very exciting times we’re living in.” By the time the food arrived Garrison had his laptop out with papers strewn all over the table. He was speaking excitedly, hands waving about. He spoke of his interpretations of the engravings, his trips to Africa and the interviews that he conducted. He went on to confirm that the craft did in fact contain a map of the human genetic code, scripture from numerous religions, text on science, and teachings of mysticism.

Mulder was eager to hear Garrison’s opinion considering his expertise. “So I have my own theory, but why do you believe the spaceship contained the inscriptions it did?”

Garrison pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “The facts I’ve gathered has led me to a hypothesis that the words actually give the spaceship its communication and rejuvenating powers.  Several accounts depicted the alien spaceship as god like with powers belonging to that of gods.  Others say it is proof positive that there is no god.  The aliens are our gods.  I don’t necessarily believe that the aliens are our gods, but maybe they might share “God” with us.  They may have passed this down to us or we may have discovered the truths for ourselves and because it is truth we are able to share it.  There are current mathematical theories out there stating God as Einstein’s lambda spoken about when he temporarily revised his theory of relativity.  God creating void, producing continuous “big bangs” and universes out of that void.”  Mulder shook his head as if he was clearing the dust from it and frowned.  Garrison continued, “I know you want me to bring you answers and it’s only raising more questions.  All that you have brought me has furthered my research and studies tremendously, but I don’t know if the proof of the truths you seek will ever be as concrete as you desire them to be.  You look to translate truth into tangible proof and maybe truth is not tangible, but can only be viewed from another platform. Maybe the aliens are more evolved, but no closer to absolute truth than we are and are still searching as well.”

Mulder wanted to backtrack to their earlier discussion since the current one was causing his head to hurt. “You spoke of rejuvenating properties?”

“Now on that subject I have some data.”  Garrison pulled more papers out of this files and placed them on the already cluttered table.  He tried to lower his voice in case someone was listening, but the bar was now noisy with patrons. “The evidence suggests that the craft was able to rebuild and that it left on its own accord.  It was difficult finding people who would discuss anything due to fear of retaliation, but there were some that spoke of fish that were once dead were now alive, people with afflictions that were healed.  A man that was sterile has a wife that is expecting.  It was almost as if the spaceship allowed them to exhibit the rejuvenating properties of a starfish or healing diseases like that of a shark.”

“Are you saying there was a case where the craft affected a man’s fertility?  Could it have that influence on woman?”

“I know where you are headed with this as you told me of your partner’s abduction, but a man is a little different than a woman.  A man is constantly producing sperm while a woman is born with a finite supply of eggs and does not produce more.” 

“That has been the tenet, but I’ve been in conversations with some scientists performing experiments on mice in a lab in Massachusetts suggesting that ovarian stem cells do have the power to generate eggs during reproductive years similar to a man’s production of sperm.” 

“Well, if that is true, than you might find this interesting as well.  One of the pieces of the ship contained a 3x3 Magic Square.  While several magic squares are in the etchings, this one gave me some pause. I know you have some background and knowledge with the belief of magic squares containing power.  Pythagoras believed that numbers are the basic factors of not only the universe but of all that the universe contains.  Words, numbers and symbols he considered as potential powers. The theory was when numbers were placed as opposites, their union became dynamic and tangible energy was thought to be released. Which is what seems to be happening with this craft. What I found interesting was if you look at the texts from Babylon dating back to ancient times the goddess of fertility was assigned the number 15 depicted as two squares fused together where geometrically it was a 3x3 Magic Square created by 9 cells.  Interestingly, although I do not believe relevant, Special Agent Scully’s numerology number is 9. Using this theory, those 9 cells can be arranged in such a way that it can generate creative energy which then could be used to facilitate childbirth.  Your partner had direct contact with the part of the ship that contained one of those 3x3 9 celled magic squares.”

“Is it possible that exposure to the ship’s power, these words, this particular magic box, could it possibly have awakened her stem cells to produce healthy eggs?” Mulder’s heart felt as though it was beating out of his chest.

“She definitely was in the presence and had contact with the part of the ship that involved texts and numbers concerning fertility.  What does that mean?  What conclusions can we derive from it?  I’m not going to speculate or give you false hopes.  The facts I gave you are all that I know.  Has she tried to go down the path of ovarian stem cells?”

Mulder, previously hunched over, straightened his posture.  He stared at his beer removing the condensation along the curve of the glass with his thumb. “It will be at least a decade before that is a viable option.  I guess the best we can hope for is for her to go back to the doctor and see if her exposure had any effect.  The exposure didn’t change the results of the last IVF treatment.  I’ve also wondered if the craft could communicate or has communicated with the chip in the back of her neck.  Like you said, it is all simple speculation and theory.  You did fine work here Garrison.  I wish you much luck and keep me in the loop as you come to more findings and hypothesis.”

“I definitely will Fox.  I could never repay you for all you have done. You have propelled my research and more importantly you have created validation for all my years of studies.”


Early Monday morning, Mulder drove to Glastonbury to purchase a protection candle. The Shaman instructed him that part of removing the negative energy is to light a protection candle for seven days.  Returning to his rental he glanced at his phone to see a waiting voicemail.  It was from Dr. Anderson from the university at Boston.  During the last round of IVF, the doctor had indicated that Mulder had what appeared to be a surge in a certain protein in his sperm. Mulder felt that his exposure and abnormal brain activity may have contributed, but the doctor told him it would have no effect on success rates or fetal development. Even so, these results had caused him to seek answers from scientists in that field of expertise.  He dialed the number to hear the voice of Anderson’s assistant.  “Dr. Anderson please.”  After a few minutes, Dr. Anderson answered.  “Mr. Mulder, I have the results of your sperm sample.  It was confirmed that you do indeed have an abnormally high amount of the protein we spoke about previously.  I would like to see you in the office to discuss details.  I also have updates on the latest information concerning the stem cell research you inquired about.  It looks like my first open appointment is in about two weeks.  You can setup the details with my assistant.”

“Thank you doc.  Two weeks is a long time.  Is there anything I might be able to do in the interim?”

“As I discussed with you, the higher the concentration of that protein in her system the better your chances.  Continue abstaining from all activities that may result in a reduction of potency and you want to engage in intercourse on an every other day schedule. The only other thing I could advise is making sure there is proper natural lubrication.  I have read a publishing theorizing female orgasm prior to male release may stimulate ovulation and assist with conception but most of those studies were done on pigs. I will prepare all the information for our appointment when I can elaborate.”

“I’ve been doing all of that. Is there anything else, anything at all?”


“Pray?  I wouldn’t have thought you to be a religious man.”

“I’m not.  It’s not a question of the existence of God, it’s the belief in God.  There are several studies that prayer and the act of the belief in God has produced results:  Longer life, cancer remissions, and other deemed miracles.  Some attribute it to a divine power others claim biased sampling. Either way, the mind is a very powerful tool.”

“At this point, I’m ready to try it all.  Thanks doc.  See you in a couple weeks.” He pressed the end button on his cell phone and headed towards the Glastonbury Thorn and the Abbey Ruins. There contained the Chalice Well, a well that never ran dry, where it was rumored the Holy Grail laid.  It was said that Jesus visited there and it may have been where Mary and Joseph were buried.  It was also the place of a yearly pilgrimage.

Once he reached the top he stood in awe of the beautiful view. Wandering around he found himself in front of the Our Lady of Glastonbury shrine where Catholics came to pray.  He opened the heavy door and peered in.  Inside was a beautiful statue of St. Mary of Glastonbury as well as two intricate tapestries on either side of the statue. It was inspiring and he felt himself drawn. Once in the Shrine, Mulder instinctively lit a candle and knelt in the pew to pray.  For him, the motivation was simply to help with more positive energy.  The last time he had done this was 1993.  He had been holding a picture of his sister and cried for her return, for God to help him find what he had lost.  Today he found himself in there for Scully, for the two of them, for all negative energy to be lifted from her from all the tragedies that had befallen.  He meditated on all that had happened in his life.  He began to pray, pray to the God for which his faith had faltered for which he no longer had room for belief in. His mind led him to pray with all his being that somehow he could give Scully a child.  That if he couldn’t save his sister, he might save her.  He prayed for a miracle.  Prayed to be a strong enough man, for God to forgive him so she may get what she needed. Prayed that their love would be enough to create this miracle. He fought back the tears that burned his eyes.  It was time to go home.

On the plane home, he reflected on what Garrison had said concerning the craft and its communication and rejuvenation properties. It explained some and coincided with his theories as well, but to hope it may have affected Scully was not enough. He decided he would delve further into the trials the scientists in Massachusetts were undertaking and see if there was a more viable avenue.

Mulder reclined back in his chair and closed his eyes as Moby expanded his mind through his earbuds. Speak to me Scully. What we have is deeper than love. I know the way you feel. Speak to me.

Mulder found himself blown away sitting on the couch in his apartment. Scully had a transformation of her own while he was wandering the English countryside. He glanced over to find that she had succumbed to sleep. He brushed the hair from her face and watched her a moment, taking in her beauty, letting his love for her fill his heart before tucking her in the blanket Albert Hosteen had given him after saving his life years ago. He got up to head to the bathroom.

After turning down the bed and brushing his teeth he returned and lifted her up to carry her to the bedroom. As he picked her up the Navajo blanket fell to the floor and she stirred. “Mulder, what time is it? Did I fall asleep while we were talking?”

“It’s okay. They’ll be time to talk in the morning.” He laid her down in the bed and got in, facing her tucking them both underneath the comforter.

She stared at him with eyes wide open as he began to speak. “We’ve had a turmoil of a relationship Scully,” he pushed the hair out of her eyes, “but not without reason. Mr. CGB only teetered the scales. There were all our struggles trying to have a baby, my relentless search for the truth… there’s our communication issues,” he smiled shyly, “I guess we didn’t solve it stacking all those dead bodies. Whatever it is has been, I will do what it takes to make you happy.”

“Mulder, I know we’ve been at odds with each other. I get frustrated at how much you ask of me and your assumptions that I will just blindly follow. I take responsibility for that. I’m not communicating and then I run away and lash out.” She ran her tongue over her lips and continued, “I believe what happened to me this weekend was necessary because it gave me the opportunity to close my past, take account for my decisions to go to the FBI, to leave medicine, put aside all the things that weighed on my mind and held me back. It also gave me the ability to open up a whole spiritual world on my own. You could have given me this guidance, but it was important that I went down this path myself. It allowed me to see the order of things, how one event in life leads to another, the cause and effect and the cyclical aspect of human life, of spiritual life. It brought me to a sense of peace. How even though it was a journey I needed to go alone in order to find myself, it led me to you.” Her eyes sparkled at him and she continued, “We spoke about heart chakra. How Daniel’s energy channels were blocked. I believe ours were too. Carrying all our baggage around with us could have been clogging our energy channels.”

“Scully, when I was in England, I went to a church and prayed.”

“You what? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I just found myself there and at the time it felt right.”

“What a week. I move into the paranormal spiritual world and you start praying.”

“When you talk about things weighing on you… you mean about motherhood?”

“Part of it. I think about motherhood all the time. How the consequences of my choices prevented me from giving life.”

“Scully, if a soul is meant to grace this earth, it will and no one can stop it.”

“I want to be a mother. At this point in my life I desire to have a family of my own. On the other hand, I keep saying that’s what I want, but I keep going down a road that leads to the opposite.” She paused. She knew her words were tearing him apart. She saw the dread in his eyes and knew the moment had come. “Mulder, if there truly is a greater intelligence at work here, that everything happens for a reason. Fate may have brought us together and destiny may have led us down this path as part of some grand design, but tonight is about choice. My choice is to be with you. I am living my truth. What is terrifying to me is there could have been a world where we didn’t exist together.”

“I believe we would have found each other no matter what.”

“I said this years ago and I’ll say it again. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Then believe. Believe Scully. Open yourself to the possibility of a miracle. I will believe with you. Wish upon the star. Pray to the gods. Pray to yourself. Look inside yourself and find the way.”

“Mulder you’re talking fairy tales.”

“I’m talking us.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s do the impossible. I will pray and you will open your mind”

“And what do I do if I fail.”

“Then adopt.”

“Mulder, we’ve been down this road. They’re not going to give a baby to an unmarried FBI agent.”

“There are ways around that too.” He paused as she gave him a puzzled look. “Scully, we’ve got to try. I won’t give up.”

“That is why I love you Mulder.” She could feel the tears starting to form.

“Scully.” Her mere name communicating volumes as it always had. He’s not sure she knew what she just said. What it meant to him to hear it. His heart stopped in anticipation of her next words.

“It’s true. After all the years I’ve fought against it. After all the years of trying to convince myself we were only friends. I don’t know how it happened, but I am totally and completely, head over heels in love, with Fox Mulder.”

“So out of the two of us, it turns out that you are the one that’s crazy.” He smiled at her. “You know these past months I’ve let go of my baggage with my family, made peace with my sister’s abduction, and now you seem to have done the same on your journey. Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe we needed this to complete our own journey with each other.” He held his hand to her face. “I love you Scully. I would break every law on this earth including that of man, science, and God himself if it means giving you what you want.”

“I want you Mulder.”

When their lips met something stirred inside her. His tongue pressed alongside hers and a warmth flooded her system, as it grew, turning molten. Melting away any protective layers left, she surrendered herself to her emotions. With each piece of clothing removed her need for him grew until she needed him like air in her lungs. His fingertips stroked her through the silken fabric of her bra, current passing through them into her heart, her chest heaving craving his touch. Moans escaped her and he swallowed them whole, removing her remaining clothing. Her hands rested on his chiseled jaw as his lips massaged her own. He kneaded her breasts, lightening charging inside them. As the pads of his fingertips brushed her nipples electricity bolted through her causing her to break the kiss gasping for air. His dark eyes were locked onto her soul and Scully was more alive than she had ever been. She wanted him to know it was different now. “Mulder, I’ve never felt like this before.” She sounded almost frightened. He stroked her face, then her hair. “We’re going down a new road Scully. Together.” Her heart was pounding, scared, but wanting. Resting his fingertips on the back of her head he parted his lips joining his mouth to hers.

The trees rustled against the window as if their power had awakened them. Thunder rose up inside her, a moaning sigh escaped her. Their seemingly casual touches in the past had always been their secret source of communication, connecting them in a way no one else could comprehend. Now as his lips moved against hers, their bodies became a mere medium to the soul. Skin upon skin speaking to her to take him home. Mulder cupped her face changing the angle of the kiss. They both broke to moan in unison, their eyes heavy and full of this new revelation, every cell pounding out pleasure. Their tongues met again and they were gone. Their bodies writhing against each other. The coarse hairs of his legs tickling the smooth silkiness of her own. Their hands memorizing every line and curve stimulating in resounding ecstasy. They kissed until they must breathe, panting hard. He was holding her tight enough to weld them together and she felt him straining, long and thick and unbelievably hard. Scully felt a deep ache between her thighs calling, craving completeness. Mulder let out a long moan as his body answered hot and throbbing against her. His chest was heaving, “I feel you calling me.” She nodded as more heat began to build and she was now aching steadily for him. “Mulder, it’s time,” She said frantically her breath escaping her. Remaining on their sides he lifted the back of her knee until her leg rested on his hip. They joined together and a relief washed over them. He was home. Nothing physical or spiritual separating them. She squeezed him inside her holding him still and he closed his eyes and moaned, sweat beading along his brow. Scully squeezed again tighter and Mulder let out another moan and smiled, she had him. She branded his soul. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her as he lost himself deep inside. They began a slow sensual pace bonding the broken shattered pieces of themselves. His body brushing against hers igniting layers of energy.

The emotions bubbling up inside felt so good they hurt. The pleasure of Mulder was intoxicating, all consuming. He was inhabiting her soul and she had the door wide open. A tear fell down her cheek and he quickly kissed it away. She knew they never had to say it. It was spoken every time she uttered his name. The same as she knew every time her name left his lips. Another vessel of communication for their mind and soul, but tonight she wanted him to hear those words. “I love you Mulder.” She was grasping tight at his back as she felt the current of her words course through his body. He returned her vow, “Scully, I’m yours.” He rocked her onto her back remaining inside her and clasped their hands tight together. With each long slow deep thrust they moaned as one. Their breath labored. It was then that it happened. Voluntarily, they began their transcendence, occupying a shared consciousness binding them together through eternity. The intensity was blinding. In her mind she wondered if he could feel her the way she felt him. He answered, “Scully, I always feel you, especially tonight.” Mulder’s lips were upon hers again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as they rode their emotions, the magic that is them bleeding through each other, hitting nerve endings they didn’t know existed. Chests rising and falling quickly, pulses racing. They felt the build deep inside and knew it was going to be more than they could handle. Not taking their eyes off each other, he gripped her hands tighter as her legs hugged his waist, her heart fusing to his. Their bodies tightened simultaneously. Time stood still as every pore cried out. Scully flexed around him drawing him in as the waves shook her fiercely, the power driving her under certain she would pass out. Mulder’s warmth seeped into her core and he screamed her name.

She stared at him as they slowly recovered, emotions flowing in and out of them. Their electricity still pulsing in the air. She palmed his face lovingly caressing his cheek with her thumb. He was still deep inside her and she wasn’t ready to let go. “I do love you.” As she said it her heart flooded again and she pulsed around him. “Mulder, you’re still..” His expression changed to one of soothing passion. “I know.” He kissed her nose. “I’m not quite ready for this to be over.”

Their lips claimed each other once more, his tongue taking long strides as it breached her mouth. Her body quivered underneath him as he began again. She matched his stride with a rhythm uniquely theirs. He took such care, a tenderness only they knew, creating a new kind of intimacy. He looked into her soul as he spoke, her eyes the color of the heavens, “Scully, take everything I am until there’s nothing left.” In the moment she locked onto his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of him moving inside her.

She spoke from within, “It’s you Mulder. It has always been you.” It was him with every hand that covered the other in a dark room in front of a reel to reel, over a table of sorrow in a dingy diner leafing through his sister’s journal, in a van facing imminent danger. Over every hospital bed, every intimate brush of bodies in passing. It was every look, every time their eyes communicated what their mouths failed. It was him with the sound of a voice, a name on the other side of a phone. Every touch in a car, squeeze of a hand, every time they held each other’s arm in pain, in laughter. Every joke, every playful exchange of banter. Every time they followed each other into the dark. Every time they ran their hands down each other’s back consoling, sharing their own private gravitational pull. The affection in a single kiss on the forehead, fingers caressing a head, a face, across lips more intimate than sex. Shared truths, a shared trust, smiles, tears. For every laugh shared in the rain, a shared cross, a shared medallion, a shared adventure. Every time they held each other in ice, in hallways, in apartments for joy, sorrow, pain. Fingers intertwined reassuring that they always had their partner. With every conversation on logs, benches, rocks, couches. Every shared moment, shared heartbeat. She is his nurturer, defender, healer. He is her protector, foundation, her soulmate. “It’s only been you” she affirmed.

His head fell into the cradle of her neck, his full weight upon her as one arm held her tight and the other laid on top of her shoulder cradling her head. “Oh, Scully. You’re everything.” He filled her to the hilt, his sounds creating higher octaves. His mantra seeped through her neck into her chest. She was pinned, her legs squeezing tight around his waist taking what he gave her. He was driving all his love and his emotions into her, harder and faster, every amazing inch of him vibrating through her with more pleasure and intensity than any orgasm she’s ever felt and it was still building. She couldn’t stop the high pitched moans escaping her, volume reaching new levels each time. She felt the first tremors and clamped down on him. He filled her completely and they burst together into a million pieces, points of light streaming through the cracks, out into the universe propelled at light speed. She relied on him to bring them back and he did, creating the most beautiful mosaic of their love. The emergence of existence.