A quick look over her shoulder confirmed that it was too far to get back to the apartment in time, and besides, the last thing she wanted to hear right now was a lecture from Mulder. Better to wait it out on her own, in one of the nearby stores. At least then she could claim that she had figured out a way to deal with it on her own, when he argued that she shouldn't take him out alone again.
It was a familiar argument, far too familiar for her liking. Things had gone well at first, with Mulder doting over William like the proud father, spending every possible moment seeing to their every need. But as the days lingered on and winter passed, Mulder had begun spending more and more time on his own. Not that it was unexpected, after those seemingly endless weeks of little sleep and even less peace of mind. But there were only so many days that she could watch him come and go as he pleased, leaving her to tend after their newborn, before she began to take solace in the fantasy of wringing his neck.
Oh, he had noticed her rising resentment, and once the first signs of spring had come, he had started suggesting that they take walks together, as a family. It was the typical Mulder gesture. It had never occurred to him that she wanted to get out of the damn apartment on her own. Preferably with Mulder stuck at home with William during a particularly bad bout of colic.
But as the days passed, and it became more and more obvious that Mulder was never going to volunteer to stay home with a newborn, Scully had resigned herself to taking her fate into her own hands. Of course, then the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and there was the late snow right after that, and then the arguments about taking William out before it was nice and warm...
The first drop of drizzle snapped Scully from her reverie, and she quickly scanned the nearest stores and signs for a suitable safe haven. Needless to say, the toy store was out of the question. Same with the sporting goods store and the Subway. Running out of options, her eyes fell on a weathered and unassuming sign: "Things Remember". From the looks of the place, it was a small and eclectic antique store, and not a very busy one at that. Not the best option, maybe, but better than anything else on the block.
The door opened with the requisite jangling of bells, and Scully looked up at the weathered strap of Christmas rattles hanging on the back of the door. It might have been a common thing, even predictable, but something about it gave her an immediate sense of intimacy. More than just a shop, this place was like a home. It was somehow both comforting and unsettling in the same thought.
Carefully shifting the stroller away from one of the odd objects sitting just inside the door, she looked around for someone to talk to. She doubted that she had to explain herself, with the patter of raindrops falling more frequently on the front window with each passing second, but she didn't want to be dishonest about her intentions, either. A quick look over one of the displays revealed a small nook with an old cash register. Unfortunately, there was no one to be seen. Letting out another heavy sigh, she glanced down to make sure William was still sleeping, and then began absently scanning the shelves.
There were the usual items that one would expect. Old books with worn bindings, dusty picture frames, the occasional silverware or wooden toy. Interspersed with the expected items were strange items that looked like something out of a museum or someone's private collection. Jewelry and coins that were obviously rare and unusual, displayed on a shelf for anyone to touch and examine. It struck Scully as an enormous and possibly naïve extension of trust, and not for the first time, she wondered what kind of person ran this place.
She was looking at a brooch with intricate Celtic etchings in the metal, which looked as though it was at least several hundred years old, when she heard a shuffle near the back of the store. She turned towards the noise just as the first clack of a heel echoed from the wooden floor.
v "Can I help you?"
From behind a display, a young woman stepped out and regarded Scully with a bemused expression. At once, Scully was struck by the how out of place the woman appeared to be. The woman was easily younger than Scully, certainly no older, and about the same height. Her features were softly Asian, but the rich caramel of her skin suggested a mixed ancestry. Filipino, something told her, and yet it seemed to be too simple a label to place on such a naturally beautiful woman.
v But that was not what Scully found odd about her. What was strange was the youthful vitality that seemed to sparkle in her eye. She wore a tight white knit halter top over her trim, fit frame, leaving her lean and athletic shoulders bare. Over those shoulders and down her back, her full, dark hair with striking auburn highlights fell like waves of cold fire to just above her hips. Her pants were slightly oversized and made of a fabric that suggested patterned vinyl, of all things. On her feet were calf-high black leather boots with a significant heel. Rings of stainless silver were scattered on her fingers and dangling from her ears. Under any other circumstances, Scully might have dismissed her as a party girl or a runway model, but once again, there was something about her that defied those assumptions.
Recovering with her usual grace, Scully flashed a smile and gestured towards the door. "I'm sorry. It started to rain..."
The woman looked down at William with a warm smile. "I understand." Her voice betrayed a Northeastern accent, with only the slightest hint of something older and more exotic. "The weather has been crazy lately, hasn't it? Don't worry, take as long as you like."
"Thanks," she replied, grateful and still more than a little taken by the clash of expectations. "Hopefully it won't be long." There was a stir in the stroller, and then the first hints of a cry from William. Scully glanced at her watch, and slumped ever so slightly. Sure enough, it was feeding time. Again.
The woman seemed to understand immediately. "There's a small table in the back corner, if you need it." She pointed to the corner opposite the front door, not far from the nook with the register.
Scully flushed slightly as William began to wail. "That would be great, thanks!" As she quickly maneuvered the stroller further into the shop, she gave the woman another apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about this. I was really don't want to intrude or make a fuss."
"No fuss," the woman said simply. "These things happen with little ones." She wiggled her fingers in greeting to William as they passed. "What's his name?"
"William," Scully said with a smile. "And I'm Scully." The woman raised her eyebrow, and she realized how odd that sounded in the present company. "I'm sorry. Force of habit. You can call me Dana."
"And you can call me Angel," the woman said with a smile. "Used to giving everyone your last name? Let me guess. You work in Washington."
Scully laughed. "That was an easy guess, huh? But yes, I'm an agent with the Bureau." She knew that she wouldn't have to explain further.
The woman nodded. "So I guess it's hard enough just leaving the 'Agent' part out." She led Scully over to the table, and moved one of the careworn chairs out of the way so the stroller could fit comfortably without blocking the walkway. "Anything I can get for you?"
"No, I'll be fine, thanks," Scully said with a wide smile. This was a very unexpected display of kindness. How many people would go to this kind of trouble, for someone who wasn’t even a customer? It was hard to think of many older women who would do it, let alone someone younger with an apparently modern lifestyle. Then again, Angel was working in a somewhat musty and unassuming antique shop in Georgetown, wasn't she?
"Are you sure this is all right?" Scully asked, as Angel stepped behind the counter. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the owner or anything."
Angel flashed her a smile. "I doubt that would happen. I am the owner."
Scully blinked, fighting down embarrassment, turning her attention to William and his desire for a meal. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry, I get it all the time," Angel said with a shrug and a smile. "And stop apologizing! You just take care of William, and don't worry about a thing. You're more than welcome to stay until the rain stops."
Scully smiled back a silent thanks, and carefully positioned herself so she could open her blouse and set William in her arms to feed. She was more than a little self-conscious, but Angel's friendly manner helped to alleviate those feelings a bit. As William quickly took to the meal with his usual urgency, Scully forced herself to relax and not think of the fact that she was in the middle of a public place. The lack of customers made it a little easier.
She felt Angel's gaze upon her, and turned to see the young woman looking at her intently, as if etching the image in her mind. It was slightly unnerving, but not enough to wipe away the feeling of calm and contentment that permeated the room.
"Thinking of children?" Scully said, not quite sure why she would say such a thing. But it seemed like the right thing to say.
"I was just struck by the look on your face, the way you were looking at your son," Angel said with a slightly wistful look in her eye. "Children are rare in my family." She stepped away from the counter, sliding into one the chair across the table from Scully. "Tell me...is this your only child?"
"I had a daughter," Scully replied, before she could think to avoid the subject of Emily. "She died very young, a few years ago." She shook off the sudden wave of grief and regret. "But yes, this is my only child now."
Angel nodded in understanding. "I got the sense that you almost couldn't believe that he was right there, in your arms, even after all this time." She leaned back in her chair, her eyes falling on William. "I remember holding my younger brother and thinking the same thing, after he was born. We had all discovered that we were unlikely to have children by then, my sisters and I, so when he came along...well, it was like we were all blessed with motherhood."
Scully hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "You can't have children?"
"It's not likely," Angel admitted. "It's genetic, they say. All of my siblings are the same way. Even my brother is borderline sterile. We can have children...my sister has a daughter, for instance. But she's the only one." She looked Scully in the eye. "I get the feeling you understand."
Scully nodded. "They said I was barren, and would never be able to have children, even with in-vitro treatments. William was a miracle." She saw the look in Angel's eyes, the acceptance that more information would not be forthcoming.
"That was how we regarded my niece," Angel agreed. She looked at William again, and was about to say more when there was the jingling of the bell from the direction of the front door.
"Be right back," Angel murmured as she stood, walking towards the counter. Her face became slightly impassive as she regarded the tall figure standing in the doorway, and to Scully it seemed as though she were assessing him, taking his measure. It was an odd impression to have, having had a chance to speak with her, and Scully wondered if that same look had crossed Angel's face when she had walked in.
The figure stepped into Scully's view, and immediately she tensed, causing William to shift and coo at her breast. The man was very tall and lean, almost a hair too thin in some places. There was something about the shade of his skin, slightly too pale, that suggested a mild anemia. He wore his dark hair long, well past his shoulders, and it was clumped and stringy from the rain. Droplets of water ran slowly down the sturdy material of his black leather jacket and from the guitar case strapped to his back, wetting the cuffs of his worn denim jeans and black leather boots. But what made Scully tense was the subtle way his jacket hung on his frame, even unzipped and open as it was. Her training told her that he was carrying a weapon, perhaps more than one.
"Can I help you?" Angel said to the man, and Scully could tell from her tone of voice that she either had no idea the man was carrying weapons, or she simply did not consider it a matter for concern.
The man grinned, and suddenly it seemed as though all possible threats were nothing but phantoms. "I'm not sure. I saw the sign and looked through the window, saw some of the stuff you had here...and I thought I should come inside."
"I understand," Angel said, her smile warm. Her eyes flickered to the strap of the guitar case. "You play music?"
"I guess you could call it that," the man replied, rolling his eyes. "I've been messing with this thing for longer than I can remember, but I've only been taking it seriously for a couple months."
"I see." Angel said it in a way that made Scully sure that she did see. "So what are you looking for?"
"I don't know." He started looking around at some of the shelves, and then stopped, turning back to Angel. "I'm Craig, by the way," he said, holding out his hand.
Angel took it without reservation. "You can call me Angel, Craig. Now let me see if there's something that might be worth something to you."
Thankfully, William waited until Angel had taken Craig into another part of the store to start fussing again, and Scully quickly closed her blouse and made herself presentable before lifting him to her shoulder. From across the room, she saw Craig peek over one of the displays, flashing a grin her way.
"How old?" he asked, turning for a second to see what Angel was doing before looking back at her for an answer.
She glanced at the window, and held back a grimace at the sight of rain still pulsing on the glass. "Five weeks."
"Just old enough to let you get a little sleep," Craig observed, and Scully forced a smile until Angel caught his attention with something. Old enough for some children, maybe, but not Fox Mulder's son. Nope, not a chance.
Angel stepped back into view, carrying a small display case with her. She came walking towards the table, Craig in tow, and Scully began shifting so she could return William to his stroller.
"I'll just look around for a bit," Scully murmured, but Angel placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"No need."
"I wouldn't want to be in the way," Scully insisted, but the hand remained.
"You're not in the way," Angel assured her, and she gestured towards one of the other chairs across the table. Craig hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged, sliding the guitar case from his shoulder. Leaning it against the back wall, he slid into the chair, eyeing the display case, seemingly undisturbed by Scully's discomfort.
Scully considered continuing the argument, but the feeling of Angel's hand on her shoulder was like a physical reminder of just how comfortable and content she had been before Craig had walked in the door. She looked up at Angel and smiled, her expression relenting. Angel nodded, and stepped over to the chair she had been sitting on.
"I've had my share of musicians walk in the door," Angel said with a smile, as she slid the display case onto the table. A number of guitar picks were arranged in the case with care, none of them touching. In fact, they seemed to be displayed like rings or other fine jewelry. But from what Scully could tell, they were completely ordinary, without even a tag or label to distinguish them from something he could buy for a dollar in any music store.
She saw the same mixture of confusion and skepticism flash across Craig's face, and he regarded Angel with a wry grin. "What makes this collection so special?"
"It's not the collection, per se," Angel said carefully, as if parsing her words. She slid the display case a little closer. "Take one of them between your fingers. Trust me."
Craig's expression remained the same, but he did as he was asked. At random, he chose one of the picks and lifted it from the case, holding it in his fingers as if preparing to play. He looked at her expectantly for a moment, but then his expression became confused as he looked down at the object between his fingers. He looked towards Angel, and then his eyes lost focus slightly, as if he were no longer concerned with what was happening in the room.
As if reading her mind, Angel glanced at Scully with a slight, knowing smile, and then returned her attention to Craig as he seemed to regard her with awe. Looking down at the pick, he shook his head as if to clear it, and then looked Angel in the eyes.
"I didn't imagine that," he said, his tone making it clear that it was not a question.
"No," Angel confirmed. "Would you like to see any of the others?"
Craig considered the notion, and then shook his head. "Not right now. I have a few things to think about." He passed the guitar pick back to Angel.
"More than a few, I would say," Angel replied, and Scully couldn't help but see the look of shock and uncertainty in Craig's eyes. "But maybe there's something we can do about that."
Craig stood, grabbing his guitar at the same time. "I've got some business to take care of for a few days. I'll be by when I'm done?"
"Of course," Angel said, placing the display case on the counter by the register. Craig nodded a farewell to Scully, waving his fingers to the dozing William, before making his way to the front door and leaving without another word. Angel hesitated as the sound of the door bells faded, and then she turned to Scully with a slight smile on her lips.
"I'm sorry if that was a little awkward for you, Dana," she said, as she slid the guitar pick back into place, and then returned the case to its previous location. "But I thought it was important to work with him now, rather than later."
Scully carefully placed William back into the stroller, bundling him in the blankets, and then slumped back into her seat. She should have known that something strange was going to happen. This was her life, after all. Something as breathtakingly simple as a walk in the fresh air couldn't possibly take place without some foray into the Twilight Zone.
"Dana?" Angel asked, looking her in the eye with concern.
"Sorry," Scully said, laughing softly as she ran a hand through her hair. "I was just thinking how wonderfully normal this day was turning out to be, until the two of you...what exactly was that all about, anyway?"
Angel smiled. "Let's just say that I deal in special items."
"Special in what way?" Scully asked, glancing at some of the nearby objects. She pointed to a relatively plain gold bracelet sitting next to a small sculpture of a hummingbird. "Is this one of those items?"
"They all are," Angel said matter-of-factly. "But I think that you have good instincts. I think that you would like to see what is special about that bracelet. Go ahead. Pick it up."
Scully glanced at William, concerned for a moment that something might happen to her, but then she recalled that Craig was simply given something to think about. What harm could there be in that? Leaning back in her chair, she grabbed the gold bracelet in one hand and held it in the air between her and Angel.
"So what's so..."
<
She turned on one heel, inspecting the way the dress draped over her curves, the way the slit on the one side showed just the right amount of leg. She knew they were her best feature, the one thing he liked best. At least that's what he would say, even as he was staring into her green eyes with total devotion.
How long had she been waiting for this moment? Almost five years? Five years of spending every day at his side, waiting for the moment when he would recognize that she was there, that he would ask her out. She could remember how nervous he had been, approaching her after hours as she emerged from the locker room.
Well, she had every intention of knocking him off his feet tonight. Turning towards the mirror once more, she lifted the locket with her mother's wedding picture to her neck. Maybe this would be the one...even if it was too late for her mother to be there to see it.
She reached behind her neck to clasp the chain of the necklace, and smiled as the light caught the gleam of the bracelet that Danny had given her for her birthday...>>
Scully blinked, her eyes coming to focus on the bracelet, and then she dropped it on the table. She stared at it for a moment, not quite believing what had just happened. And then she looked up to Angel, who was regarding her with a questioning gaze.
"What...what just happened?" Scully managed.
"A memory," Angel said calmly, softly. "This particular piece associates strongly with the memory of that night. The owner was proposed to a few hours later, and for whatever reason, that is the moment that became a part of the bracelet."
"A part of the bracelet?" Scully said, her composure returning. "You're saying that some woman's memory was...what? Imprinted onto the bracelet?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Angel agreed. She took the bracelet from the table, and stood to replace it on the shelf. "Or do you have a more reasonable explanation for what you just experienced?"
Scully laughed to herself, remembering the vivid quality of the scene that had played itself out in her mind. "But it wasn't just images...I actually felt what she must have been feeling. I...I have no idea what I'm saying."
"I think you put it very concisely," Angel assured her. She sat back down, leaning towards Scully with a slight sigh. "Dana, I could try explaining this to you, but I don't think that is what you need right now. Just as it wasn't what Craig needed, either." She looked towards William, who was stirring slightly as he found a more comfortable position. "I have the feeling that this is hardly your first experience with something that is difficult to explain."
"You could say that," Scully admitted. She laughed to herself, and then turned towards the window. "It's stopped raining."
"Yes, it has," Angel said, without looking to see if it was actually the case. "And I think it ought to be nice weather for the rest of the afternoon. You ought to be able to make it home without worry." She looked at William again, that slight wistful smile on her lips, and then turned her gaze back to Scully. "I'm glad that I could help today. Please feel free to come back again."
Scully stood, not quite sure what she was supposed to say, or what she wanted to say. "Maybe I'll stop by next time I take William for a walk." It sounded insincere, even to her, but it was the best she could do.
"Of course," Angel said, her smile genuine.
Scully took hold of the stroller, and after a quick glance at the bracelet, she walked out of the store. She was too lost in thought to hear the bells as the door closed behind her.
***
She had no intention of returning to the shop, or even thinking about what had happened when she had touched the bracelet. Even after she had returned home to her apartment, she had refused the temptation to tell Mulder about her time in the antique shop. He had been concerned about William's welfare, and had gone on and on about how anything could have happened while they were waiting for the rain to end, but she had managed to keep all of it to herself.
But four days later, she was still thinking about how it had felt, living that flash of time in someone else's life.
Maybe it was the fact that she had something new to focus on, something other than the constant arguments with Mulder. Maybe it was the familiarity of looking into something that couldn't be readily explained. Or maybe it was just that it was something to think about and wonder over that wasn't William. There was only so much of the constant monotony of taking care of a newborn that she could take, without her mind needing something to work with.
So here she was, standing across the street again, wondering if she was about to make a mistake. She was still standing there, gently rocking the stroller back and forth to keep William amused, when Angel appeared in the window and waved for her to come in.
"That settles that," she muttered under her breath, and flashed Angel a smile all the way to the door.
"Dana," Angel said, propping open the door with a grin. "I was hoping you would stop by again."
"Thanks," Scully replied, pushing the stroller through.
"Although I have to say, I was expecting you a little sooner," Angel said in a friendly, yet chiding tone, as soon as the door jingled closed. Scully noticed that the young woman was wearing a very comfortable-looking, if a little tight, black halter top with black Capri pants. She was wearing the same boots as before, and her hair was tied back in a mass of curls.
Scully looked down at William, and saw that he was snuggling in for his afternoon nap. "I'll admit, I was intrigued by what I...what happened the other day," she said, almost relieved to get the awkward start to the conversation over with. "To be honest, I wasn't sure what it was that I thought I experienced. I guess that's the reason I'm here."
Angel nodded, and then as they walked towards the table in the back corner, she looked into Scully's eyes with a penetrating gaze. "But why now? Why today? Any particular reason?"
Scully checked William one more time, and then slid into the same chair she had been sitting in during her previous visit. "I don't know. Actually, Mulder said something that annoyed me enough that I wanted to get out of the house and make him wonder for a while."
"Mulder?" Angel asked with an interesting lift of her right eyebrow.
"William's father," Scully said, and then she sighed. "And my former partner for eight years in the Bureau." She shook her head. "He said something about, how could I just leave without telling him where we were going. I found that ironic, to say the least."
Angel's expression sobered slightly. "He's run out on you before?"
"You could say that," Scully admitted with a smile. "Not in the usual meaning of the term. The cases we were assigned to were not the most mainstream. Our department involved the X-Files...cases dealing with the unexplained. There were some aspects to the work that involved some personal issues. We both lost some family. About nine months ago, he was abducted." Scully looked at Angel to observe the young woman's reaction.
Angel took it in stride. "But he came back?"
Scully nodded. "Not at first. I mean, he was declared dead when he came back a few months later." Scully paused, considering whether to get into more detail, but she decided it was better to keep it simple. "He's gotten back most of his life in the last few months. We're not on the X-Files anymore, but we have William. And each other."
"Then why are you here?" Angel asked after watching Scully glance at William, a trace of worry in her eyes. "Why did it bother you that he said what he said?"
Scully turned back towards Angel. "I don't know." She thought about it for a moment, just staring down at the table, as if searching for the right words. "When we were working on the X-Files, things were simple. Not easy, believe me, but they were simple. Mulder would drag us out on some bizarre case, and I would try to find some scientific rationale behind whatever weird phenomena was to blame for this murder or that crime. It was like that for years.
"It was like I was his anchor, you know? He could run off and tilt after his personal windmills and I would always be there to pull him out of whatever fire he had run into this time. And when his father was shot, and my sister was killed, and then I got cancer...well, through it all, we came to depend on each other. We were the only friends we had. But even then, there was his quest."
"What was that?" Angel asked softly.
"His sister," Scully said with a deep sigh. "She was abducted when he was young, and devoted the rest of his life to finding her."
"And did he?" Angel pressed gently.
Scully smiled ruefully. "He found out about a year ago that she was dead. Things began to change after that. The work was still there, but it was as if he was just hanging onto it out of habit. We both were." Her smile widened. "It was soon after that, when I realized that it was time to start living my life. I looked around at where I was, at what I was doing, and found that over the course of time, I had fallen in love with Mulder. I didn't want it to end."
Angel looked down at William. "I think I see where this is going."
Scully let out a soft chuckle. "It's not as simple as it seems."
"No, I suppose not," Angel agreed. "It never is. But why do you say that?"
"Because I made that choice thinking that I could never have children, for one," Scully explained. "I don't think I would have made the decision so quickly if I thought I could. Or maybe I would have. I don't know. At the time, the future was full of possibilities and everything was much clearer."
"And that's when he was taken away," Angel reasoned.
Scully looked towards William again. He was contentedly sleeping, unaware of the slight tension emanating from his mother. "Yes. The same night I found out I was pregnant. And a couple days later, I learned that he had been keeping things from me. He was dying of a brain condition, and he never told me."
Angel leaned forward, regarding Scully closely. "You said he was dying, not that he is. He's better now?"
Scully nodded. "Perfect condition, ever since...well, ever since. And after an attempt to return to work, which ended in typical disaster, he's spent most of his time looking after us. To a fault."
When it was clear that Scully had nothing else to say, Angel sighed. "I get the feeling you haven't tried talking to him about any of this."
Scully chuckled. "To Mulder? He doesn't want to talk about it. With him, the past is the past. He doesn't even want to talk about how it was that we managed to have William. It's like he wants to pretend that none of this happened, that nothing has changed."
"And that's the problem, isn't it?" Angel asked, her tone sympathetic.
"Everyone says that I've changed," Scully said, almost as if changing the subject. "That I'm not the same person that I was when I first met Mulder. It's as if there is some unwritten law that I have to be the strong and immutable stone for all time. Maybe before I chose to be with Mulder, to pursue that path in life, that would have been possible. But people change. I changed. I gave my total trust and heart to him, let him be my anchor like I had been for him, and then..."
She stopped, forcing herself to get control of her emotions. "And then he was gone. And I found out that he had known he wouldn't be there. One way or another, he knew he wouldn't be there." Scully shook her head, letting out a rueful laugh. "And you know, the entire time he was gone, I tried to carry on the way he would have wanted me to. I had a new partner, someone even less inclined to believe than I had been, and I tried to be just like Mulder had been for me...a mentor, a guide, even a friend. And then, when Mulder did come back, it wasn't enough that I trusted Agent Doggett. Mulder questioned that. He still does, I think. My trust wasn't enough for him."
Scully looked up at Angel. "I changed. But I guess the thing that bothers me, the reason I had to leave and come here, is that he hasn't. He went through all of that, came back to me, and wanted nothing more than to go back to the X-Files. I'm scared to death that he's only giving us this much time because he has nothing else."
"And because he seems like the same man he was," Angel said with a tone of finality, "you are waiting for him to leave again. Because in all the time you've known him, that's what he's done."
Scully nodded, and then she let out a self-depreciating laugh. "I'm sorry...I never had any intention of saying any of this. I hardly even know you, and here I am, unloading all of my doubts and fears into your lap."
"We all need someone to talk to, Dana," Angel remarked with another of her sympathetic smiles. "I don't mind. And I'd like you to feel welcome to come here and talk whenever you feel the need."
"I just feel a little foolish," Scully said, not quite ready to accept the offer. "That wasn't like me."
"I think it was entirely like you," Angel observed. "Or rather, like the person you are now. A mother dealing with a constant fear that she will be abandoned and forced to care for her child alone. A woman who has chosen to love someone who may not be capable of giving the same measure of love in return. A human being who is searching for some sense of direction."
Scully regarded Angel with disapproval. "And what? I came here to find it?"
"I never said that," Angel said with a grin. "All I said is that you sounded like you needed someone to talk to. You were the one who suggested why." Angel waved her hand, as if to chase away the tension that had been building. "It doesn't matter, really, does it?"
Scully considered her response, and found that she really had none. "No, I guess not."
Angel smiled. "Then I think you said something about being intrigued?"
Scully looked down at William, saw that her son was still in a deep sleep, and then turned to Angel with a nod. "Like I said, when I was working on the X-Files, we used to investigate the unexplained. But I don't think I've ever experienced something quite like that."
"It's not the easiest thing to explain," Angel admitted. She stood, and walked towards the nearest display. "But it is exactly what I told you before. Memories, especially strong ones, can become a part of a thing. Objects worn by the person, or touched just after. Sometimes just an object sitting in the room. The closer a person is to the kind of experience within the object, the more vividly the reliving of it."
Scully looked at the same display, and pointed to a picture frame. "So you're saying that this frame was once owned by someone, and something happened that affected the person so strongly that a recording of his or her memories of that event were somehow...in this? On it?" She looked at Angel for some kind of further explanation.
"Dana, some things simply are." She pointed to the same frame. "How do we remember things? Can you tell me that?"
"There are theories, mostly involving some kind of biochemical interaction within the structure of the neurons of the..." She stopped when she realized that Angel was regarding her with a great deal of amusement. "I guess that's not much of an answer, is it?"
"It's as good an answer as any," Angel said with a shrug. "The fact is, memory exists. How it exists is a mystery. And so is this." She leaned closer to Scully. "Things remember, Dana. And eventually, they find people to share those memories with."
Scully saw the hint of a secret smile on Angel's lips, and couldn't resist smiling a bit herself. "You make it sound like these objects of yours find their way to people on their own."
"Who's to say they don't?" Angel replied, but the gentle teasing that Scully was expecting to hear in the tone of her voice was not there. "Or perhaps, it is better to say that eventually, the right people find themselves in the right place at the right time."
There was the familiar sound of the door opening, and Scully looked down as William began to stir. She let out a small sigh when he simply adjusted his arm and went back to sleep. Angel was already walking towards the front door, and she heard her laugh a moment later.
"Well, hello, Craig," Angel said, as the young man came into sight. He looked much as he had the first time they had met. Scully's attention was still firmly locked on the slight bulges under the stiff black leather of his jacket. "Perfect timing."
Scully resisted giving Angel the smarmy smile that rushed unbidden towards her lips. "Hi," she said, waving to Craig.
"Oh, I remember you from the last time," Craig said with a friendly grin. As before, it seemed at home on his face. "How's the little one?"
"He's fine," Scully murmured. Then she smiled, forcing herself to be a little less stiff. "Sleeping like an angel, actually."
"Not like this one," Angel said as she went to retrieve the display of guitar picks. "I don't think I've ever been that still in my sleep."
Scully caught the expression on Craig's face, and stifled a laugh. "I don't think we were introduced properly last time. I'm Sc-" She stopped herself, recalling Angel's admonition from the last time. "I'm Dana."
"Craig Walden," the young man replied with a nod of his head. He looked at Angel, back to Scully, and then back to Angel. "Is something going on here?"
"Nothing that I can see," Angel replied, as she returned to her seat and gestured for Craig to sit as well. "It is a nice coincidence, though, isn't it?" She glanced at Scully, one side of her mouth betraying the hint of a grin.
"If you say so," Craig replied, taking his seat with a shrug. "I've been giving a lot of thought to what I saw when I touched that pick the other day. I think I'd like to have it."
"Hold on," Scully said, holding up a hand to interrupt. "What exactly did you experience? I mean, I touched a bracelet and saw a woman getting ready for a date. It was powerful, the strong feelings of contentment and love and anticipation...but that was about it."
Craig was lost in thought for a moment, and then he began, that grin plastered on his lips. "I was Eric Clapton. I was standing in front of thousands of people, jamming away. I could feel the weight of the guitar in my hands, the texture of the string against the frets under my fingers. There was sweat running down my cheek, and there was this smell...the hint of leaves in the fall, that musty smell when there are leaves collecting on the grass, you know? It was coming with the breeze on my left...no, right side." He shook his head. "But it was like I could remember everything. Not just the moment that I caught, but all of it. All the songs, the way he played them, the way he felt when he played them...I can't even begin to describe it."
"Well, that sounds like a lot more than I got," Scully said, turning to Angel with skepticism. "How does that work, exactly?"
Angel shook her head. "You should know that different people are attuned to different things. And there's a lot to be said for being open to an experience. I would be willing to say that Craig has a bit more experience with these kind of connections." And she turned to Craig with a suddenly serious gaze.
Scully saw something behind Craig's eyes, some memory of recent darkness. "You could say that." He looked at Scully. "Though I think that Dana is selling herself short. Come on, are you saying that you've never had feelings about something?"
Scully chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm not saying a word."
"That's all right, Dana," Angel interjected with a smile, and then she turned to Craig. "You said you wanted to have the pick. What are you willing to give for it?"
Craig grinned, and pulled a bank envelope out of one of his jacket pockets. "I don't have much. I've been on the road for a while-"
Angel shook her head. "I don't take money."
Scully wasn't sure which of them was more shocked, her or Craig. Certainly Craig was stunned, because he didn't move to return the envelope to his pocket.
"I'm not sure I understand," he replied, with a guarded tone to his voice.
"Money changes hands like air with every breath," Angel said, her own voice full of an odd bitterness. "Money only has the value that we are told it must have. It carries little value of its own." She tapped the display case, her finger hovering over the guitar pick Craig wanted to purchase. "You are asking me to part with an item of incalculable value, Craig. Something unique and priceless. To be given something such as this requires the giving of something equally unique and equally priceless."
Craig must have realized that his money would not be taken, because he slowly slid the envelope back into his pocket. His expression was dejected, and there was a trace of anger and betrayal hidden behind his polite smile. "What kind of game is this? I thought this was a store."
"It is a place of business, yes," Angel admitted. "But I do things according to an older tradition."
"If you don't take money," Scully said, trying to defuse the situation, "then how do you keep your shop open? Especially in this neighborhood?"
Angel never took her eyes off of Craig's features. "Is that really what you want to know?"
"No," Craig answered, his tone of voice communicating that Scully should stay out of it. Scully sat back, shifting her weight just enough that should the conversation turn into something unexpected, she could move herself and William out of the way. She didn't think that would be necessary, but there was something of violence in the air, something she couldn’t explain.
"What is it you find so necessary in the music that you play, Craig?" Angel asked, her voice soft but insistent, compelling. "What does it offer you?"
Craig found himself unable to answer for a moment, as if his voice was searching for the words. "It's the only time that I can just forget."
"Music gives you solace from what you have lived through, what you have done," Angel murmured. "The gift you wish to receive is something you need to forget. It is the instrument you use to take away that part of you that must always remember that moment." Angel smiled warmly. "It seems fitting, then, that you should give that memory in return."
Craig shook his head. "I don't understand."
Angel leaned forward, and pressed her hand against one of the subtle bulges that Scully had noticed earlier. "You seek to explore new paths. You have gone as far as you can with the music you have. You seek more than that. I can see that with such a gift, you would share the solace and comfort and strength that the music gives to you. You would take this gift and share it in ways that cannot be imagined."
She pressed slightly harder. "In the same way, your experience will serve to teach others the price of taking the life of another. The stain that it can leave on your soul, even when that action is truly necessary to save others. The right person will find this, and they will teach others the lesson you have learned."
She looked up into Craig's eyes. "I think it would be a perfect trade. What do you think?" Craig hesitated for a moment, and then he nodded. Angel slid her hand into his jacket, and with a fluid motion, slid out an intricately etched dagger. Angel's face went rigid for a moment, but after a visible struggle, her warm smile returned. "This is a good beginning, Craig. Make sure you make the most out of the opportunity."
"I will," Craig said, and to Scully, it was as though he was realizing that a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you."
Angel shook her head as she placed the dagger on the counter behind her, her features softening as her fingers lifted from the weapon. "Do not thank me. I am only presenting the means. Yours is the will."
"What just happened?" Scully found herself asking, her own intrusive voice startling her.
Angel looked to Craig, and as he opened the display case, he nodded absently. Angel turned her smile towards Scully. "I will spare you the experience of reliving it yourself." She gestured towards Craig. "About two months ago, Craig was forced to kill a man possessed by an entity that sought to spread its influence to reaches that cannot be described. While it was an act that could not have been avoided, he was manipulated by another with goals that were less than pure. It was only afterward that Craig learned the truth, and he decided to leave his home."
Scully nodded, a flash of something familiar crossing her mind. Hadn't Agent Doggett mentioned something similar, not too long ago? But the thought was dashed as she realized something more unnerving. "You knew what he had done. You knew before you touched the dagger."
Angel let her smile answer the question, and she turned to Craig once more. "Was there something else?"
"No," Craig answered absently, and then he stood with a grin. "I think I'll be going." He looked at Angel for a moment, and then asked hesitantly, "Would you mind if I came back sometime?"
"If you like," Angel said, her expression guarded. "Until then?"
Craig nodded, and with the jangling of the bells on the door, Scully and Angel found themselves alone with William again. For a moment, there was silence as Angel returned the display case back to its usual perch. Scully found herself staring at the dagger, unconsciously noting the pattern of the etching. It seemed familiar, but then again, after all her years on the X-Files, what didn't look familiar?
"What is it you see, looking at it?" Angel asked from over Scully's shoulder.
Scully continued to look at the weapon. "Symbols of protection? I'm not sure. This is something that Mulder might recognize. Or Agent Reyes."
"Another new partner?" Angel tossed out as she worked her way back to her seat.
"In a way, my replacement," Scully admitted. "Agent Doggett was working with me, but after William was born, it was more or less understood that I wouldn't be coming back to the Bureau in the same capacity as before. Monica is an old friend of John's, and he assigned her to the X-Files following some events last month." She glanced at William, who had begun to stir. "She helped deliver William, actually."
"And she knows about this sort of thing," Angel mused. She gave Scully a sly look. "When I described Craig's circumstances, you seemed to react as though you had heard something like it before."
Scully nodded, as she positioned herself to face William, reaching under the stroller for her diaper bag. "There was a case around the same time, something up in Jersey. I was on leave, obviously. It was Agent Doggett's first solo case. If I recall, it had something to do with some kind of possessing intelligence that had taken over the local law enforcement. Now that I remember, Monica was involved in that, too." She glanced at Angel as she pulled out a fresh diaper. "Agent Reyes is an expert in ritualistic crime and cult activity."
"Is that right?" Angel said, but there was a hint of amusement in the young woman's voice. She stood again, as if a little on edge, and walked behind the counter. "Well, Dana, as much as I understand your reasons for wanting to get a little time away from Mulder, I think it might be a good time to go back." With a hand covered by a soft cotton cloth, she picked up the dagger and placed it in a wooden box that seemed perfectly sized. Scully realized that the box had always been there, just out of plain sight by the cash register.
"I'll just change him, and then I was thinking of going anyway," Scully admitted. William awoke right then, with a happy coo rather than the usual wail for food. Scully found it odd, given how long it had been since his last feeding, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Don't think I'm trying to chase you out," Angel said, flashing her a grin as she closed the box, latching it shut. "Still, I think you have more to think about."
Scully methodically changed William out of his wet diaper, and looked for the trash can. Angel held up a hand, and Scully tossed the bundle in her general direction. "I'll admit, this is getting stranger than I ever thought it would." She gave Angel a thoughtful look. "Do you really think that giving you the dagger that he used to kill that man is going to take away the pain of his memory or his guilt? Or even the music, for that matter?"
"Sometimes a single moment can define the rest of one's life," Angel said carefully. She tossed the diaper into a canister behind the counter. "When he had left his town and the life he knew to find something better, to find the life that he wanted to live, that was the first step in letting go. But so long as he was carrying that weapon around, he was carrying the burden of that moment with him."
"And now he's not?" Scully asked, as she redressed William and snuggled him back into his blankets. It was obvious that he was wanting to be fed, but he seemed to be willing to wait a few moments. "He'll always remember."
"Yes, he will," Angel agreed. "But maybe, just maybe, it will be enough to make his path a little more clear."
"And that's what this is all about? This place of yours?" Scully tucked William in, and draped the bag over her shoulder before looking back at Angel.
Angel shrugged. "I don't think it's quite that simple. But for some, yes." Her lips curled into a genuine smile of affection. "I suppose it depends on the person. How willing they are to allow the process to happen."
Scully forced a smile, and then cast her eyes towards William. "Looks like that time."
"Of course," Angel said, and she walked Scully to the door. "Will you be coming back?"
Scully thought about it. It was obvious that Angel felt that there was at least the potential that she might find some answers to her doubts and fears in this place, among the thousands of objects and the memories that lingered within them. But even if that was nothing more than another mystery that she never explored, she still found Angel to be good company. Maybe even a friend she could talk to, someone other than Mulder or John or Monica...even her mother.
"Yes," Scully answered as Angel opened the door for her, the sound of the bells catching William's attention.
"Yes, I think I will."
***
"So let me get this straight," Angel said, looking at Scully with a decidedly confused expression. William was sleeping happily in his stroller, facing Angel, while Scully perused the nearby shelves.
"You were abducted by some unknown group or agency, and they did some sort of experiment that gave them all your eggs and left you barren. Then they put a chip in your neck, and when you took it out, you got terminal brain cancer. Then you put another chip in your neck, and the cancer went away."
"Right," Scully said absently, eyeing a small cameo in a glass case.
"A few months later, you find out that someone took your eggs and created some kind of human/alien hybrid named Emily, who you considered to be your daughter. She died."
"Yeah, not long after," Scully confirmed, passing on the cameo, poking instead at a small cat sculpture.
"Then you get infected with some sort of alien virus and wind up in Antarctica, get exposed to some kind of cosmic radiation a year later, and some time after that, you try to have a child using in vitro fertilization, using some of your ova, which this Mulder managed to find while investigating your cancer." Scully turned just in time to see Angel rubbing her eyes in mock weariness. "Was that before or after you decided to start a relationship with him?"
Scully thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. "To be honest, it's all a blur. You'd be surprised how your memory goes after you have a child." She sighed. "I think it was just before. If I remember correctly, he was a bit shocked at the request that he be the donor."
"I bet he was," Angel said with a grin. Her expression returned to a more serious gaze. "The doctor tells you that the treatments don't work, but a few months later, you're pregnant. And then you discover that your doctor has been conducting experiments involved human/alien hybrids as well, and now you have no idea how you managed to get pregnant, who the actual father is, and whatever or not your child is even entirely human."
"I think you've got the general idea," Scully murmured as she went back to inspecting the sculpture.
"Now tell me again, why you kept working with Mulder all this time?"
Scully gave Angel a withering glare, and then found herself shaking her head. "Like I said, we arrived at a point where the only people we could trust were each other. And to be honest, I think it became a cycle that fed on itself. Every time something else happened to me, or to him, there was that much more of a need to figure out why it was happening. And our best shot of getting to the truth was through the X-Files."
Angel seemed to consider that, and then smiled slightly. "I suppose that makes sense. Somehow, anyway." She looked down at William, that wistful expression on her face once more. "He certainly looks normal."
"I know," Scully said, walking back to the stroller, her own smile wide on her lips. "We wound up being chased by these...I don't know, some new kind of alien, Mulder thinks. Anyway, they hunted me down as William was being born, as if they wanted to kill us. And then they just watched. They stood there, watched Agent Reyes deliver my child, and then they just walked off." Scully looked down at William, her smile fading slightly. "Damnedest thing I ever saw. And that's saying something, believe me."
"I do," Angel replied gravely. "I guess this has something to do with your worries about Mulder?"
Scully nodded, taking her usual seat. "I'm not even sure where to go from here. I joined the FBI out of medical school, teaching at the Academy. I was chosen to watch over Mulder, to help debunk his work as some kind of ongoing disinformation campaign. I'm not even sure why I was chosen, other than my background in forensics and medicine."
She looked up at Angel, her indecision clear in the set of her eyes. "As much as I want to take this opportunity to just stop, to break the cycle and enjoy the gift that I've received...I also have this burning need to know. How it happened, why it happened, what the hell was going on down in Georgia. If I feel that need this strongly, then I know that for Mulder, that need has to be even more consuming."
"If I understand you, and what you say about Mulder," Angel reasoned, sitting back a bit in her chair, "then he's not one to dwell on the past. He is pulled along by each new development. Some things stick, they never let go, but most of it...he doesn't even keep track of most of what happens to the two of you, does he?"
"Mulder's not exactly one for the long view, no," Scully admitted. "There were times when he was looking for his sister that he would get some lead that went against everything he had discovered, and he would suddenly latch onto that like the rest never happened. That's the way he is."
Angel stood, walking to the shelf that Scully had been looking at. "I saw your problem clearly before, but now it would seem that there is even more reason for you to be worried." Her eyes fell on a small pendant, and she carefully reached behind another object to retrieve it. "Would I be wrong to think that this is at least partly related to your unresolved feelings about Emily?"
Scully felt an immediately rush of anger, but she bit it back. How could she consider such a question to be some kind of invasion of her privacy, when she had already said so much about her doubts about Mulder? "Maybe it is. Why do you think that?"
Angel turned to Scully, and her expression told Scully that the young woman had registered the possible breach. But her reply betrayed nothing of it. "When you discovered Emily, she was treated like an experiment, like an object. You said her foster parents were in on it, right? So in the end, Emily never had a chance to experience the love from her natural parents. Well, not for very long, anyway."
"I did my best," Scully said, and even to her own ears, it sounded defensive.
"I don't doubt that for a second," Angel affirmed. "And for the same reason that you needed to give that child love, the knowledge of her solitude stays with you. As a mother, especially a truly unexpected mother, you feel the need to spare your son even the slightest hint that his father might not love him completely and without reservation."
Scully nodded, feeling unwanted tears welling in her eyes. Who was this remarkable young woman, that she could see so clearly what she was going through? She forced herself to regain control; she had cried too much over the past year, felt the pain too deeply. "Mulder accepted the concept of fatherhood, but just in the genetic sense. He never expected to be here when my child was born. The way he saw it, I think, was his final gift to me."
Angel held up her hand, stopping Scully from going further. "So what if he leaves...that's what you're worried over, and not for you." She nodded towards William. "You worry for him, for what he would never experience or feel. His father might be little more than a name, some specter from his past."
"Yes," Scully answered, and that one word carried an untold number of meanings.
Angel passed the display case with the pendant to Scully. "I've been giving this some thought, Dana. Even before you mentioned any of this. I had a feeling that there was something that might help. There are no guarantees, of course, but there never are."
Scully looked at the pendant closely, and recognized it. "This is a St. Christopher's medal."
Angel nodded. "In this case, the original owner was the father of an only child. Something happened. The father was unable to bear the memories...at least, not the ones that the presence of this gift to his son invoked."
"What happened?" Scully said, suddenly concerned.
Angel hesitated, choosing her words carefully, as she often did. "That's not as important as what remains as a part of the medal itself. That, I think, might be worth something to you." She gestured towards the display case. "Why don't you see what I mean for yourself?"
Scully held the display case up to her eye, as if inspecting the medal for some hint of its origin. "Am I going to regret this?"
Angel smiled widely. "No more than you regret any other risk you've taken."
Scully glanced at Angel with a smirk, and then cracked open the case, tilting it just enough for the medal's chain to snake into the palm of her left hand. Almost immediately she felt a sense of warmth and contentment, as if she were wrapped in a blanket of infinite softness. She was vaguely aware that she was shrugging her shoulders, as if settling into that enfolding embrace, but she let herself fall deeper into the experience. In the distance there was a voice, a low but gentle rumbling, and a wave of love enveloped her. This was the voice of her father. And she was being lifted up, firm hands holding her with care...
She blinked, and she noticed that the medal had slid out of her hand. She looked up at Angel, who was regarding her with a mixture of curiosity and knowing. Of course, Angel would have known what memories were recorded there. And perhaps, a little of what those memories would mean to her.
"It's interesting, sometimes, the memories that become the most meaningful. The child that wore this medal wore it for several years, and yet, in the end, it was one of the first times that he wore it...that's what became a part of it."
Scully nodded. "I was close to my father. He called me Starbuck." She smiled, a hint of sadness in her eye. "He was against my joining the Bureau, but even that was something he accepted. He died several years ago, shortly after I joined the X-Files. Even that was pulled into our work."
Angel looked at William, as if reading Scully's next thought. "Dana, sometimes people are meant to become a part of something greater than themselves."
Scully scowled. "That's a wonderful sentiment, but why-" She stopped as she became aware of the inscription on the back of the medal. She moved to grab it with her fingers, to bring it closer to her eye, remembering at the last moment what effect it would have. Instead, she leaned forward, carefully reading the inscription again.
She looked up at Angel, her expression flashing between awe and fear. "When did you get this?"
Angel's expression never changed, remaining cool and unflappable. "Several years ago. I was operating in another location, then. The son had been killed some days before. The father came in, drunk, consumed by grief...he gave me this." She sighed, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I think he could get just a hint of what was there...and after everything that happened..."
Scully was still staring at the inscription. "Why did you give this to me? Why would you want me to give this to my son?"
"I don't," Angel said, and when Scully looked at her with even greater suspicion, she shook her head. "At least, not yet. What I suggest is that you give this to Mulder, have him wear this for as long as he agrees. Especially when he is close with William." She slowly slid her hand across the table, taking the medal carefully by the tips of her fingers. "The thing about this memory...it's powerful, yes, but indistinct. It is a foundation that can be built upon, more stronger and more personal by the right person."
Scully watched Angel return the medal to the display case. "So you think that if I were to give that to Mulder, and he were to wear it...I think I understand." Scully sighed. "I don't think I could put it to words, but I understand."
Angel stood, replacing the case on the shelf. "You should take some time to think about it." She looked Scully in the eye, suddenly serious. "You understand the price."
Scully nodded. She noticed William stirring, and was struck by the thought that it was an odd coincidence. "Angel, I have to know." She waited for Angel to return to her seat. "Why that medal? Have you been watching me?" She glanced at William, and even though there was a rush of apprehension climbing up her spine, something in her refused to react as though Angel were a threat.
Angel, for her part, only smiled. "Dana, I own and run an antique shop filled with items that carry the memories of an untold number of people, alive and passed. Since we have met, how many times have you come here? And you've sat in that chair how often?"
Scully was still for a moment, and then she began to laugh, nervously at first, and then more sincerely. "I guess you never forget how to be paranoid." William let out a cry, and Scully sighed. "I think visiting hours are over."
"I thought as much," Angel replied. She glanced at the display case on the shelf. "You'll let me know?"
Scully stood, adjusting William's blanket as she glanced in the same direction. "Yeah. But give it some time, OK?"
Angel never said a word, but all the same, Scully knew that the young woman understood every bit of what was running through her mind.
***
Time passed, and soon it was three weeks since the first time that she had walked through the now-familiar front door of the antique shop. Angel's store had become a regular stop during what had become a routine walk into town. After it had become obvious that Scully had no intention of ending her practice of taking William on a walk, as the weather continued to warm, Mulder had begun taking longer and longer runs through the neighborhood or on the local track. Ultimately, Scully had only the most passing interest in wherever Mulder went during those hours. Her talks with Angel were something to be treasured.
In the days after her last visit, she had gone over everything that Angel had told her, everything the woman had said. There was nothing that suggested that Angel might have been watching her or even paying any more attention to her than she might to any new and close friend. But Scully could not lose the feeling that Angel knew more than she was saying, and that the medal had been suggested as a gift for her son for a particular purpose.
But she could not deny the fact that the overwhelming feeling of peace and paternal love that she had felt was everything that Angel said it was. If Mulder's love for his son could be added to that, and the effect made that much more personal, it would be the answer to her prayers. It would be some measure of reassurance that no matter what might happen in the future, something of Mulder would always be there to extend his love. And in the back of her mind, she knew that there was another reason that the medal would be appropriate.
Even now, she wasn't sure what she was going to do. She had come to the store a couple times since that conversation, and Angel had never pressed her to make a decision. In fact, Angel had never even brought it up, or hinted to the possible transaction. She was leaving it completely in Scully's hands, and that was a very welcome circumstance.
"He always sleeps so well when he's here," Scully said offhand, looking down at William.
Angel peeked around a display, smiling in the same direction. "He does seem comfortable, doesn't he?" Her gaze strayed towards Scully. "Must be because you feel secure. So he does, too."
Scully didn't reply, letting her silence indicate her assent. What use was there, in discussing what they both already knew? With everything that was happening in her world, this was her island of peace and solitude. The fact that William managed to stay quiet for a couple hours didn't hurt.
As if reading her mind, Angel walked towards the counter, speaking softly over her shoulder. "How are things going with Mulder?"
"The same," Scully murmured, and then she shook her head. "That's not what I have on my mind. I've been talking with Agent Doggett about what’s been happening at the Bureau. Our deputy director is under investigation. Agent Reyes' transfer is caught up a bit in all of that, and in the meantime, there are still some questions that we have about what happened when William was born."
"Sounds like you have a lot to think about," Angel agreed. She shuffled around under the counter, and then pulled out the display case with the guitar picks. "How often do you talk with Agent Doggett?"
Scully glared at Angel, suspecting that the question was more than an idle attempt to continue the conversation. "He comes by a lot, actually. I think he likes to help out, when he can." She laughed softly. "Before William was born, near the end there, I swear he was even more excited and nervous than Mulder was." The smile on her face faded a bit. "Sometimes I wonder..."
"Wonder what?" Angel asked, gently pressing, as she always seemed to do.
"Nothing," Scully replied, not wanting to get into her worries about John at the moment. The last thing she needed was to worry about his reasons for staying with the X-Files, or constantly checking on her and her son. Instead, she gestured towards the display case. "Why did you-"
There was the sound of the jangling bell at the front door, and Scully instinctively knew that it was Craig. Sure enough, he came into view just as Angel flashed her a knowing smile. As the two young people exchanged pleasantries, Scully found herself wondering why it was that Angel was playing things so mysteriously. Scully had already given her an enormous measure of trust, and had never pressed her for answers. Why the games?
"I was impressed," Angel was saying, and Scully shrugged off her momentary doubts so she could focus on what was happening. Something told her that it would be of interest.
"It was like I was taking everything that I was feeling from the pick, and sliding it into my own style," Craig was saying, excitement obvious in his voice. "I thought I would just be, I don't know...channeling the talent or copying it somehow."
"That's how it usually is," Angel admitted. "I get the feeling, though, that you are a bit more in tune with things than most. If you have a talent for connections, then it's possible that you were able to integrate it directly into your own unconscious."
The two continued talking about Angel's impression of Craig's latest efforts, but Scully found herself unable to keep her own thoughts from intruding. Angel had said something about Mulder's own love and affection for William melding with the impressions within the medal, that the original father had been able to detect or feel the impressions made by his son. And now she was saying that it was more likely for someone with, what did she say? Connections. A word with any number of meanings.
Mulder had been changed more than once by his several exposures to the alien virus, but the one incident that stuck in her mind was Mulder's brief but memorable brush with the unique radiation of an alien ship. It had activated a part of his brain that made him telepathic, even precognitive, according to Skinner. Mental manipulations of thought and time, were those the connections that Angel was referring to?
A moment across the table drew her back to the conversation taking place nearby, and she saw that Angel was sitting in her usual seat, Craig once again across from her, close but ever so slightly removed. The display case sat on the table between them. Scully wondered absently if Angel had set the scene deliberately, or if there was something more at work.
"I had a feeling that you would be interested in more than just the one," Angel said, her eyes flickering towards the display case. "I knew it as soon as I heard you play. You were right, when you said that the music took you to a place beyond the memories. But even more, you touched every person in that audience, Craig, and gave them the same gift, even if just for that moment."
Scully watched Craig's eyes, saw the questions there. She had a sense of what he had to be thinking, and his reply suggested she was correct. His expression was grave as he spoke. "When I...the thing in Jersey. There was another man there, the one that was teaching me. And the thing we stopped, the thing that was using people. Both of them were able to get into people's heads. It wasn't a good thing." He stared down at his hands, as if some answer might be found there. "And now you're telling me that I was doing that? Without even knowing it?"
"We all do it, on some level," Angel replied. Her voice was soft, but Scully could see the concentration that she carefully concealed. Or was she feeling it? Was Angel letting her see? Was she as much a part of what was happening, as necessary a player in the game?
"But this is what I was trying to avoid," Craig said, shaking his head. "Getting pulled into this kind of thing again." He looked into Angel's eyes, looking for some kind of answer there. "I just want a chance to figure out who I am."
"You can't avoid who or what you are meant to be," Angel said, and for Scully, it was as if the words were as much for her as for Craig. "The things that you learned and experienced had less to do with where you were than who you are. Running away from that place didn't change that, it only changed the influences on your choices. Those years taught you a great deal about your potential, Craig. Your music allows you a means to explore that potential, a way to let go of what was and focus on what is."
Craig sat in silence, staring at the display case. Scully found her own thoughts equally contemplative. The past year had challenged her in ways that she never would have expected, and it sometimes felt as though nothing would ever be certain again. But there was a truth in Angel's words. Underneath all of the circumstances, all of the unknowns, there had to be a purpose. There was still the person that she wanted to be.
And in the same way, there was the person that Mulder had to be. She wanted that person to be there for her, and for William, but if that was not something that he could do, then was it possible that she could accept it? And perhaps the same applied to John, to Monica, to Skinner...maybe all of them were following the same path towards some understanding of themselves.
"It's funny," Craig said, looking into Angel's eyes again with a faint smile. "I came here to find out if I could take a look at some of the other picks here, see what else I could learn or experience. I had no idea what I could offer in exchange." He sighed. "But if I understand you correctly...then I think I know what I have to do."
Angel seemed to consider something, and then she nodded. "Be sure that you understand what you are choosing to do, Craig. It is important that you make this decision with your eyes wide open."
"You're saying that I need to accept who I am," Craig muttered.
"It's more than that," Angel pressed, in her typical manner. "In a way, you already have accepted it. You've just been running away from it. But the journey is as important as the destination. You needed that time. You needed your path to bring you to the point where you could consider a different way of seeing the world. Perhaps the time needed to bring you here, to a place where you could learn how to use your gifts in a way that can help create, rather than control or destroy."
"I don't know if I can do this," Craig admitted. "I don't know where all of this is going."
"Then I will help you," Angel said softly. "You noticed that I came to the club with some others?"
Scully saw recognition in Craig's expression. "Yeah, I guess so." He nodded. "A few."
"You are not the only one who has needed someone to help them find direction," Angel explained. "If you like, I can introduce you to some of the others. I think they could help you as much as I could, maybe more." She smiled. "Better than trying it alone."
"I think I would like that," Craig replied, and while Scully saw the shadow of doubt still lingering in his eyes, there was no question that he would eventually come around.
"But first," Angel said, glancing at the display case, "there is something you must do. A decision to make."
Craig shifted in his seat, uncomfortable again. Scully noted that he was still carrying weapons, and she chided herself for not recognizing the signs earlier. "One life for another?"
Angel shook her head. "Not quite." She leaned forward slightly, as if drawing him closer to the moment. "You already took the first step. You've seen where the path might take you. To be honest, I cannot say if you will avoid the temptations that frighten you. All I have is an option." Her eyes fell on the display case. "Your choice. I think you know the price."
Craig hesitated, leaving Scully to wonder at the depth of what was unfolding in front of her. She had made her own decision already, but now she was thinking about her reasoning. It had seemed so simple before, but now, now there were implications that she hadn't considered. Should she take a little more time, give it a little more thought?
"Now's the time," Angel murmured, and though the young woman was looking at Craig, Scully knew the truth.
"All right," Craig replied, and he reached into his leather jacket, pulling out a dagger similar to the one that he had given to Angel during his last visit. The act was repeated several times, with his fingers lingering on a couple of the items a little longer than others. It was as if he were taking some last snapshot of that part of his life. But in the end, each of the weapons that he had been carrying lay upon the table, no longer burdening him as they had for so long.
"As with the others, these will serve a purpose," Angel reminded him. "Someone will learn something about themselves, about the road they might want to avoid. Or they will need the experience." She slid the display case towards Craig. "These are yours now. I think you will use them well." She flashed him a grin that was not unlike the one he usually wore. "I intend to find out."
His eyes traced the pattern of the picks within the case, and then he tucked the case under his arm as he stood. "I'll be back," he said, but with none of the uncertainty that had been in his voice the last time he had offered to return. "And thank you, Angel. I don't know how I can repay you."
As Scully expected, Angel only smiled mysteriously, letting Craig see himself out. Already, there was a connection between the two of them, though Scully wasn't entirely sure what it might be. She was still trying to figure out where she fit into the picture. The same questions ran over and over in her mind as she watched Angel gather the blades from the table, temporarily storing them in a box under the counter. The fact that the empty box was there, ready for use, told Scully that Angel had been expecting a need for it.
"You knew that was going to happen," Scully said, and she was surprised by the certainty in her own voice.
"I hoped," Angel corrected, as she returned to her seat. "After hearing him play the other night, I had a feeling that he would see the implications, understand the choice that was coming. There was a chance he would run again, but there was a reason he came here, to this place." Angel shrugged. "Now we'll see where that leads."
"I think there's more to it than that," Scully pressed, not willing to let it go. "You know what kind of work we did on the X-Files. I may not be willing to accept everything that I've seen or heard, but Craig's not the only one who notices connections. I get the feeling you know more than you are saying. Especially the way that Craig just happened to come here when I was here, and the history of the object you suggested I give to Mulder."
Angel regarded Scully for a moment, and then smiled. "We all have the paths we are meant to take, Dana. The objects in this store are no different than people in that respect. You have a very...colorful history, and that history is entwined with the lives of others in ways that you simply cannot know. But when you are meant to be a part of a person's life, to walk the path together for a time, it is as it will be. You mentioned connections. You could say that sometimes, the connections are made naturally. And other times, they need a little help."
"And that's where you come in?" Scully asked, her eyes resting unbidden on the medal sitting on the shelf nearby. "You step in and make things happen?"
"Even when I help things along, Dana, it's still as it was meant to be," Angel countered. She stood, making her way slowly towards the shelf. "To you, it may seem too much of a coincidence, the evidence of unseen forces conspiring to a shadowy purpose." She said it in a slightly mocking tone, injecting just a bit of humor to the proceedings. "And maybe in a way, you're right." She tapped her skin just above the neckline of her halter top. "You believe in a higher power, don't you?"
Scully nodded, the weight of the cross hanging from her necklace now all too noticeable. "So this is God, is that it?" She softened the question with a smile, but she knew that Angel understood the tone of her question.
"Does it matter?" Angel countered. "I should think that, given that I chose to pursue this line of work, it makes sense that I would have a slightly more expansive point of view. A wide range of connections, if you prefer. Or, at least, some ability in seeing how people connect to others, and what one or another of these items might offer them."
She pulled the case holding the St. Christopher's medal from the shelf, and placed it on the table in front of Scully. "I already told you how I think this could help you, in terms of Mulder and William. I think you also see how there might be more to it than that."
Scully stared at the medal, the way the light caught it just so, and imagined it around Mulder's neck, then William's. "But if Mulder does leave..."
"Maybe that's what has to happen," Angel reminded her. "Maybe the answers that all of you need, maybe Mulder has to leave to find them. And maybe what follows was meant to be as well. I cannot say. I can only suggest."
Scully tore her gaze away from the medal, looking down at William as he slept without a care, content and happy. He deserved to know his father. For all his faults, Mulder was a remarkable man. Giving the medal to Mulder, having that constant and tangible memory always present, would that be enough, if Mulder was gone? But Scully knew what would happen then, the support that John would give them, as much as he could. As some measure of care for the son that he had lost, perhaps. Perhaps something more. But Scully had to admit that if John were to become a kind of father figure to William, an ever so slightly distant but comforting presence, then there was a powerful symmetry at work.
Almost without meaning to, she pulled her bag from its place under the stroller, and reaching in, pulled out the black strip of satin that she had decided to offer. Placing it on the table next to the medal's case, she looked to Angel with a sad smile.
"One of the first people I lost, when I joined the X-Files, was my sister, Melissa. The men who killed her thought she was me. Even after I hunted down the man that shot her, I still carried that guilt. That it was my fault that she was dead."
She laughed ruefully. "Do you know how I found Emily? It was a phone call. I answered the phone, and it was Melissa's voice, telling me that Emily needed me. Not in so many words, but it was her voice and her urging that led me to my daughter. She was the one that gave me those moments. And I suppose, then, that she was the one who set me on the path that led me here."
She tapped the satin collar with the tip of one finger. "She used to wear these around her neck. This is the one that she was wearing when I almost died, after I was abducted. She owned it for a long time, for as long as I can remember." She looked up at Angel. "Do you think it is a fair exchange?"
Angel took it in her fingers, and closed her eyes for a moment, her expression softening slightly before her eyes opened again. Her eyes carried a warmth when they regarded Scully again. "I think this is a perfect choice, Dana. But tell me...why did you think this was something you should offer?"
Scully sighed, forcing herself to remain clear-headed. "I guess, ever since she died, the little things like the collar, they were a way to remind me of what we had. We were never as close as we wanted to be, but we were still sisters. And as I said, when the moment came that I needed her, she was there. Even when I didn't know it myself."
She looked down at William, who was stirring slightly, but still deep in his slumber. "Just before my son was born, I was speaking with Monica. And I just got this feeling like I was talking with my sister again, like she was right there in the room. Not literally her, but a kindred spirit. And in the time since then, with everything happening and all the changes to our lives, Monica has been a familiar presence. And to be honest, I get the same feeling from you."
Angel smiled. "Thank you. And so I take it that you think that with Monica here to remind you of your sister, you could let this serve someone else in a similar fashion."
Scully nodded. "Maybe it will open someone's eyes. Or maybe there is someone out there who has lost a sister, too, and this could help them."
Angel smiled, and placing the collar on the table, she opened the case holding the St. Christopher's medal. Carefully, she removed the medal and placed it on the table in front of Scully. With a practiced grace, she arranged the collar in the case so that it was perfectly displayed, ready to catch the eye of whatever person might need it.
Looking up, she saw Scully staring at the medal again, and noted that it was lying with the inscription on the back facing up. Scully was regarding it with slight misgiving, and yet there was also a measure of acceptance there, as if she knew that this is what was meant to be.
Scully noticed that Angel was watching her. "It's just the one thing that has been worrying me," Scully explained. She pointed to the inscription. "Sooner or later, especially if something happens and Mulder...sooner or later, John is going to see this. He'll see it, remember, and he'll recognize the inscription. 'For Luke'. I'm not sure I know how I'm going to explain it."
"Something tells me you won't need to," Angel said, her voice soft. "When the time comes, he'll understand."
Scully took it in her fingers, and very gently, placed it in her bag. More aware of what to expect, she realized that she, like Craig and Mulder, would be able to control the experience if she wanted. It was something she would have to think about in the future, but for now, she let a hint of the powerful aura of paternal love reach into her, fully aware of the connection that was forming in that instant. Symmetry, indeed.
As Scully replaced the bag, she turned to Angel one last time, before she intended to go. "I need to know something."
Angel's smile, as always, told Scully that the young woman had been expecting it. "You want to know if Craig was involved in the case that Agent Doggett worked on last year."
Scully nodded. "I sent John some information disputing the theories that someone involved with the case had used to explain what was happening. I remember him saying that he gave that information to someone who needed to see it, to know that what they had been told was a lie." She looked towards the door. "That was Craig, wasn't it?"
Angel paused, regarding the collar in the display case for a moment before answering. "You want to know if you were the one that somehow brought Craig here, who started him on his new path. In a way, yes, that's true."
"But if this is real, all of this about connections and memories being a part of objects as much as something within our minds or brains," Scully replied, "then I was wrong, and he left everything he had behind because of it." She looked towards the front door. "Is that why I was supposed to be here now? To know what it was I did to him? To learn from it?"
Angel stood, walking behind the counter with the collar in hand. "If that was the reason, Dana, then I don't think it's my place to say so. Yes, you helped him make a decision, but who is to say that it was the only reason for it? And maybe, for now, that is enough."
There was a noise as William stirred in his sleep again, but this time Scully knew that he would be waking soon. Just long enough again, Scully thought, and she wondered at her willingness to take what had happened on faith. But she had learned more than once over the years that sometimes, faith was all that one had left.
William let out a whine, and Scully let out a hard sigh. "Well, looks like I need to be going." She looked at Angel, and despite all the mystery and the unknowns, she found her affection for the young woman to be undiminished. "See you in a couple days?"
Angel gave William a smile. "I'll hold you to it. Have a good night."
Angel held open the front door for them, and as Scully pushed the stroller out into the sunlight towards home, the sound of the jingle-jangle of the familiar bells followed her.
END PART ONE
Back to A Bringer of New Things
Back to Fanfic Archive
Email:
