Gate of All Wonders
Part 8
KMNAHILL and MD1016

Disclaimers in Part One

Beautiful words can be traded,
Noble deeds can be used as gifts for others. Why should we reject even
what is bad about men? -Tao Te Ching


San Francisco Airport,
Terminal A.
9:52 AM.


The four of them were rushing through the expansive San Francisco airport,
Scully in the lead.  People from all over the world bustled around them,
each heading off to specific points all over the globe.  It had taken them
all of ten minutes to collect Mary's luggage, which left them with less
than five minutes to get Mary and Amber on board their TWA flight to
Denver.  They were just going to make it, with no time to spare.

Mulder had Amber by one elbow, one suitcase in his hand.  Mary had her
other arm, and suitcase; both trying to hurry her along.  Much to Amber's
distress.  Never in her life had she seen so many fascinating shoes, and
she wanted to stop and study all of them.   "Shoes shoes shoes shoes . . ."

"The gate is all the way down at the end of the jet way," Scully called
back at them.  "I'll get down there and make sure they wait."  She rounded
the corner and ran smack in to a rounded, white man.  The impact knocked
her backwards to land hard on her butt.  The man stumbled backward a few
steps.

"Grampy!"  Amber screamed and broke free from her guides.  She ran in to
the older man's arms, and they quickly closed around her in a tight
embrace.  "Grampy Grampy Grampy . . . "

Scully looked up in to the smiling face of Dr. Moore.  "What . . . ?"

"Papa?"  Mary stared with disbelief.  "You're here!"  When Amber broke
away from him, suddenly focused on the Hush Puppies of a passer-by, Mary
hugged her father.  "Papa, I was so worried about you."

He let out a small chuckle that shook his whole body.  "Nothing to worry
about, my child.  I came here to get you."

Mulder helped Scully to stand.  "What happened to you?" she demanded,
gripping her partner's hand as she stood.  "Where have you been?"

"It's a long story, and we don't have much time." He looked at the worn
woman in his arms. "Mary, we must get Amber back to NIH immediately.
There's a private jet waiting to take us."  His jovial face was edged with
a tired seriousness that didn't seem comfortable on his features.

Mary pulled away from him and placed a protective arm around her silent
daughter.  "What! No!"

"Don't tell me you're working for *them*," Scully's stomach dropped.
"After all the lives they've ruined."

"They convinced me that my work with them was unfinished.  I think we
might have a treatment for Amber, and some of the others who have been
taken.  But I need to do some more tests -"

Mary pushed her daughter behind her, "No, Papa!  Please!  I won't let you
touch her!"

"Neither will I!"  Scully stepped in front of Mary and held out her arms.
"She's suffered enough. We've all suffered enough."

Moore stuffed his hands in his pockets.  "That's easy for you to say, my
dear.  You've already benefitted from the therapy that I've devised."

Mulder took a step forward.  "What are you talking about?"

"Her symptoms are gone, are they not?"  Moore reasoned with a soft, urgent
voice, "You can't honestly think they just disappeared."

Mulder's eye went wide and then locked with his partner.  "That night in
Chicago . . . we lost time."

Scully looked demandingly at Moore.  "That was you?"

"Not me, alone, no.  But yes, I had a hand in your cure."  He looked in to
her clear, questioning eyes and smiled.  "You are looking quite healthy, my
dear.  No signs of your illness at all."

Scully waved his diversion aside. "How can you let them use you again? You
know what they are; what they do."

"I know they are offering me a chance to make right something that has
been horribly wrong for a long time." His glanced flicked to his daughter
and granddaughter. "That's something you can't ignore."

"You trust them?" Mulder scoffed. He'd toyed with trying to determine how
this portly scientist found them but pushed the thought aside as
irrelevant. If he was working for them, he'd probably been able to follow
their moves from the start of all this.

"Trust doesn't enter into this. It's an even exchange." Moore looked
nervously over his shoulder. "We don't have time to debate this."

"What's the matter, Moore? Your watchdogs have to be let out?" Mulder
asked sarcastically.

"An even exchange?" Scully interrupted. She was having trouble shifting
her views of the man who'd saved her life to this being who would bargain
with his granddaughter's life. "What are you doing for them? How many
other Ambers are there going to be before they let you stop?"

Mulder went to grab Moore's arm but the older man brushed off the attempt.

"Hopefully, none. But whatever the price, I'd pay it for them." He nodded
his head in the direction of his family. "It's really not your decision to
make, Agent Mulder. Or yours, my dear."

Mary gently pushed Scully aside.  "Papa, you can help Amber?  Are you
sure?"

He place both hands on her upper arms.  "My child, I have no guarantees.
But I feel very strongly that she will only profit from my intervention."

Scully pulled on Mary's shoulder and turned her to face her.  "No.  Think
about it, Mary.  Amber has brain damage.  You can't 'fix' brain cells.  He
can't restore her intelligence."

"Not yet, perhaps," Moore's eyes almost twinkled with the possibility,
"but soon, my dear.  Very soon. We have already begun to regenerate dead
nerve cells, and rewire how our brains work.  Amber's motor skills will
certainly improve.  And I hope, through this new therapy, that we can
reteach her mind how to think.  That we will be able to help her 'regain'
her intelligence, if you will.  Not restore it."

"It's not therapy! It's science fiction," Scully insisted.

"Not at all."  He said confidently.  "It is a necessary reality."

"And her 'enhanced' abilities?" Mulder questioned, his eyes boring into
the older man, challenging him to deny the truth.

Moore looked away uncomfortably. "I'm sure I don't know what you're
referring to."

Before Mulder could give a reply, Mary looked from her father to the two
agents who she'd met the day before.  The decision wasn't her's to make. 
If there was any possibility in helping her daughter, she had no choice
but to try.  "I believe you, Papa."

"Very good, my dear."  He ran an affectionate hand over her gaunt cheek.
"We must go."  There were no good-byes to the agents.  Moore and Mary
simply picked up the suitcases, and pulled Amber by the hand.

When they disappeared behind the corner, Scully shook her head and
exhaled, "I can't believe that just happened."

Mulder gently tugged at her arm, "Come on, Scully.  We've got a flight to
catch."

"He's one of them, Mulder."  She looked up at his for some kind of comfort.

"I'm not really sure that he is."

"But he said -"

"I know, Scully.  But I'm beginning to think that things aren't simply
black and white.  What if really can help her?"

"What if he can't?  Does she spend the rest of her life in a lab?  Waiting
for the future that's never going to come?"  Her voice cracked with
emotion. Instantly she walled herself up and took in a cleansing breath. 
"You're right.  We've got a flight to catch."




*****************

USAir flight # 221
Somewhere over the Midwest.


The drone of the air plane engines hummed inside Scully's head, setting
the pace of the thoughts that flooded her mind and helped to release some
of the tension gripping her stomach.  Her search was over, after only four
days of pursuit.  Over without a fight. And over without any kind of
resolution.

Who acts fails;
Who grasps loses.


Scully inwardly winced. The words of the Tao which Melissa had practically
forced her to memorize came back to haunt her. Had she acted precipitously?
Had the information they'd discovered changed anything after all?  No, what
she was really asking was: was the truth worth the price? The thought of
simple little Amber staring at the white walls of the lab for years and
years to come made her shutter.  Was it worth it?  She might never know
for sure.

My words are
very easy to understand,
very easy to practice.
But no one is able to understand them,
And no one is able to practice them.

What the hell did that mean? How can you practice something that can't be
practiced?

*You just do it, Dana.*

Scully closed her eyes as the familiar pain of missing Melissa washed over
her. She could still hear the words as she replayed the argument they'd had
as her older sister tried to patiently explain the foreign concepts. Yet
despite the differences in their world views, everything seemed clearer
when Melissa said it.

*You find your calm place, Dana, and act from there. You do what you have
to because it's the right thing to do at that moment. If you act from
anyplace else, though, from anger or hate or worry, then whatever you do
will be wrong.*

Is that what happened this time? Had she wanted to find Moore and his
family for her own needs and fears rather than from her "calm place"? God,
she was so tired!

The image of Moore's face rose unbidden in her mind and, with it, an
overwhelming sense of betrayal. As quickly as it came, the feeling faded
as another passage rang through her head in Melissa's strong voice.

Between "yes, sir" and "certainly not!"
how much difference is there?
Between beauty and ugliness
how great is the distinction?

Scully knew with her whole heart that Moore was paying another kind of
price for his choices. She had had to sacrifice family for the sake of the
truth; he was sacrificing the truth for the sake of his family. Just "how
great is the distinction" when you looked at things this way? The rage she
was feeling receded, just a bit.

The unyielding and mighty shall be brought low; The soft, supple, and
delicate will be set above.

Maybe there was another way to the truth; one which came from a healing
place where the Ambers of the world wouldn't be hurt. Scully felt the
tightness in her chest loosen as she let go of her anger. It was time to
move on with her life.

But that brought her to her other search; Mulder's search (which had
quickly become a permanent fixture in her life.)  Would it end much the
same way as Amber's? Was this search coming from a "calm place" or from
Mulder's guilt? And, if so, would it end as badly? Twenty years down the
line would they find Samantha only to learn that she'd lived her own life,
had her own family, oblivious to their efforts to locate her. Or, perhaps
she would show up one day, after years of watching the two of them from
afar - knowing all the time how hard they worked to find her, and finally
willing to be found.  Or maybe she would never return.  Maybe there was no
one *to* return.  Maybe they were chasing the shadows of a hope that was
better left untouched.

True words seem contradictory.

Scully shifted in her seat and turned to her partner, knowing too well how
furious he would be if he knew what she was thinking - but also knowing
that similar thoughts must be running through his head.  His hand hung
limp off the edge of the arm rest between them.  She delicately placed
hers above it. She'd found at least part of her answer; maybe she could
help him find his. It *was* time for them to move on with their lives.

Mulder looked down at her gentle gesture and then in to her clear eyes.
Her skin seemed especially bright against the yellow light streaming past
him from the rounded window to his right.  He gave in to the urge to lean
forward and place a kiss on her forehead - his small gesture of affection.

How did it happen?  How did he get so lucky?  Why did such an amazingly
wonderful woman fall in love with him?  He couldn't even begin to form a
logical answer.  But he knew - he felt in the heart of his soul - that she
did love him.  Just as he knew that he loved her, and that knowledge made
him love her that much more.  God!  It was all so intangible.  His desire
for her, his uncontrollable need and thirst for her wasn't something that
he could rip apart from his being and show to her.  There was no way for
him to explain.  And yet, some how, she knew.  Scully knew.

"Scully, you've met my mother, haven't you?"  She nodded slowly.  "I know
we're having Easter dinner at your mother's, but I'd like to invite my
mother."

Over run by a second of shock, Scully nodded again.  "I think that would
be wonderful.  You've never actually mentioned her to me before, so I
didn't think it appropriate to ask . . . but I know she'd be welcome,
Mulder."

"Yeah, I know."He turned and looked out at the billowing pink and orange
clouds below them; all of which looked like a Rorschach test gone awry.
"It's just . . . well, I mean . . . I've - we've never really been that
close.  But she's got no one now . . . hasn't for a long time."  He turned
back to the enchanted woman beside him.  "And I'm starting to understand
the importance of having some one."

Her Mona Lisa-smile framed her words, "Anyone in particular?"

He looked down at his hands and chuckled.  "I want her to know you, Dana."

Without knowing what to say, Scully sighed and dropped her eyes to their
joined hands.  "That would be nice."

Mulder's eyes fell forward on the folded lap table and his free hand
played with the plastic catch. "I think about her future, you know, and
she's not having any more kids.  And I don't see her dating - although I
wish she would.  So, she's pretty much alone."  He took a breath.  What
was it he was trying to say to her?  Collect your thoughts, Mulder. 
What's the point? "Do you think about the future, Dana?"

"Sure.  Sometimes.  More recently than I have in a long time."  The misty
look in her eyes was so distinctly un-Scully, and yet he instantly
recognized it a strong part of her.  She turned away from him and studied
the no smoking sign above the seat in front of her.

"Scully.  Dana, what do you want your future to be?"

"Oh, you know," she gave a little shrug.

"No, I don't know, Scully.  Tell me."   But Mulder *did* know, or at least
he had an idea.  He was hoping she was wanting what he was, but he wanted
to hear her say it first.  He knew, somehow, if she *said* the words, it
would all come together and be real.  For both of them.  He looked at her
with his deep hazel-brown eyes.


The quick glance at him told her she wasn't going to be able to brush the
subject off so easily. "Mulder," she sighed and shifted in the seat; but
he cut off her attempt to evade the question.

"Tell me," he repeated and ran a finger down her cheekbone and along the
line of her neck.

"Come on, Mulder.  I don't want to talk about this now."

"Why not?"  She just sat there, watching the steward and stewardess
rolling the coffee cart down the narrow aisle.  Not daring to look back to
him, not daring to acknowledge her throbbing heart in her chest.  Did he
know how easily his touch could affect her?  "You trust me don't you?" She
turned to him stunned by the question.  "And you love me. . ." her eyes
rounded, " . . . I know you do."  He shifted his torso to face her while
she sat frozen, with a look of terrified uncertainty on her face.  "So,
what is it that you can't tell me?"

"It's not that I can't tell you, Mulder."

"What could you possibly want so badly that you're afraid to tell me?"  He
ran his left palm across the tender softness of her cheek and in to the
thick silkiness of her hair.  "Tell me, Dana. What do you want for your
future?"

Her lips trembled.  She heard her voice as a separate entity from herself.
The words, "Marry me," fell out of her mouth and filled the cabin.

Mulder smiled.  His eyes looking in to the depth of her soul.  His heart
pounded, fighting for dominance in his chest.  "In a heart beat."

"What?" her lips moved, without a whisper of sound behind them.

"Scully, breath."  She sat marble white against the brown print of the
seat. "Scully?"  Mulder shook her shoulder, "Scully, breath!"

Air flew from her mouth and her chest heaved as she sat back in the seat.
Mulder felt a sweet tinge in his heart for her.  She was really nervous,
and after all of the years they'd been together, biblically or not, it was
sweet that she would still work herself up in to such a state over him.

"Did I just ask you to marry me?"  Her voice was back as strong as ever.

"Yep."  Mulder felt like the cat who swallowed the canary.  She nodded,
setting things right in her head.

"And what did you say?"

"I said yes."  Her arms flew around his neck. "But," he began and she
pulled away from him to look in his eyes, "just because you asked, doesn't
mean I'm going to change my name."

Scully giggled with nerves and edgy joy, "That's okay.  I'm not going to
change my name, either."

"Fine with me, Scullster."

"Don't call me that."

He pulled her close to him again.  "I love you," he whispered in to the
soft red of her hair.  "Dana will you marry *me*?"

"In a heart beat," she sighed.  And then they kissed.  The sweetest, most
passionate kiss either had ever experienced.

**********

Epilogue

To withdraw when your work is finished,
that is the Way of heaven.
-Tao Te Ching


Saturday, April 6th, 1996.
Mulder's Apartment.



The dim light that seemed the signature of Mulder's building greeted
Scully like a friendly face.  They had done so much traveling lately - and
when they were home they usually opted to spend the night at her spacious
apartment - that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been in front
of the door that proudly bore the number 42.  More than a month, at
least.  She shifted the paper grocery bag in her arms, and pulled her key
from her coat pocket. The lock turned, but the door caught on the chain.

"Mulder?"  She tried to peek in the darkened room.  "Mulder, why is the
door chained?"

"Uh . . . Scully!  Hold on!"  She heard a distinctly female moan and then
the click of the VCR tape stopping.

Scully rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Mulder, you're not at those
tapes again, are you?"

He opened the door wide enough for her to slip by him.  "What ever do you
mean, Scullster?"

"I mean," she set the bag down on his kitchen counter, "the flush in your
cheeks and the chain on your door.  You never chain your door, Mulder."

"Accident."  He pulled out two thick, orange-ish-brown, root-looking
things from the top of the bag.  "What the hell are these?"

"Yams.  For dinner tomorrow night.  Mom asked if I would bring
something."  Scully brushed past Mulder and headed straight for the TV.
"What is it that you find so interesting about this stuff, anyway?  Are
you doing research?"

Before she could press the 'EJECT' button and pull the video from the
machine, Mulder stepped in front of her and tried to steer her from the
TV. "Why don't you show me how to cook yams.  I've never made yams before."

She smiled up at his squirming.  "I've never been so modest before,
Mulder. What could possibly be on that tape that you don't want me to
see?"  He tried to think up a lewd remark, but she beat him to the
punch.  "Have you been trying out some new positions?"  Her brows wagged
at his open mouth.  "You wanna teach me what you've learned?"  She leaned
in to him and ran her hands down the sides of his thighs.  "Lets watch it
together and see if we can beat the clock."

"Scully!"  Mulder was at a loss.  Was this the same woman who used to be
his prudent partner?  "My god!  I've corrupted you."

"Yeah, I think I owe you some thanks for that."  He leaned forward and
kissed her lips.  They tightened underneath him in to a smile.  A second
later she slipped away from him and dogged his hands, finding the 'PLAY'
button on the VCR, and the picture instantly came to life.  "Oh . . . my .
. . god."

Before her was a woman - completely naked - straddling the hips of a man -
who, for all intents and purposes, was also nude - rocking vigorously back
and forth, her arms behind her on his upper thighs, his hands kneading the
full flesh of her exposed breasts.

"Oh, Scully!"  the TV moaned.  "Oh, Scully, faster.  Faster, Dana!"

To which the woman obliged, slamming her body onto his at an even faster
rate.

"Yes, DANA!  YES!!!"

Mulder looked from the TV screen to the horror on his partner's face. How
was he going to explain this one?

As the man on the screen orgasmed, the woman screamed out a very clear:
"FOOOOOOOX!" and collapsed forward over the man.  Her red hair obscuring
the view of the camera.

Scully hit the 'POWER' button on the TV and stared at the blackened screen.

"Scully, it's not my fault.  I had no idea that they'd done it.  I went to
drop off the napkin that Amber did the doodling on, and they gave me this.
Byers said they found Frohike watching . . . Uh, well, Byers said there
are no other copies.  They were just trying out some equipment . . . I
threatened them with some serious violence . . . they were pretty
scared.  I don't think they'll do it again . . . and . . . I'm really
sorry.  Dana?  Dana, honest.  I had nothing to do with this.   This isn't
my fault."

"Just shut up."  She stood and walked calmly in to the kitchen.  Too
calmly.  Much too calmly.  She pulled some marshmallows from the bag on
the counter and threw them to the small round table.

Mulder swallowed.  This wasn't at all good.  She wasn't ranting and
raving. She wasn't accusing and blaming.  So, she must be plotting
revenge. "Dana?  Sweetheart?  Talk to me.  Please."

She pulled a tub of margarine and a bag of cookies from the bag, and
refuse to look at him.  "What do you want me to say?"

"What ever you want.  Tell me it's all my fault, I don't care.  Just don't
give me the silent treatment."

"Is it your fault?"

"No."

"Then I don't blame you."  She grabbed the bag and folded it neatly,
creasing the edges flat.  She opened the cabinet under the sink and threw
the bag as far in as she could, and then she slammed the door shut.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad?"  She looked at him.  "Mulder, I'm mortified.  When I make love to
you, I don't want an audience."

"I feel the same way."

She shook her head.  "Frohike is a pervert."  She took out a thick knife
from the carving block and looked down at the heavy yams on the counter.
"Not to mention a dead man."

"Like I said, I scared them pretty good.  I don't think we'll have any
more trouble from them."

She nodded and ran the hard root under the tap, rinsing away the dirt and
scum from the uneven skin.  "You know what the worse part is?"

He winced.  "I came before you did?"

"No, that was fine.  The worse part was they didn't even get my good side."




The End of Gate of All Wonders
The sequel, The Bending of a Bow, should be out sometime. Hey, don't
blame  us, we had to write another sequel.  It's all Jen and Caroline's
fault.  Who are Jen and Caroline?  Don't worry, you'll meet them in the
next story.  He he he . . .