Summary:  Lt. Mulder and Dana Scully meet at the brink of war.  
A Genre Change piece.

"Moment at the End of the World" by Dianora 1/1
Written 3/9/96 -- 3/10/96


The idea for this little vignette popped into my head as I was 
watching "North and South" (one of the best miniseries EVER, 
and the books are even better) on the Family Channel this past 
Saturday.  This is more of a Genre Change piece than anything 
else.  Please note that in this scene Mulder and Scully are meant 
to be younger than they are in the series: Mulder is in his early 
twenties and Dana is a little younger than that.  This is also pretty 
cheesy and a little melodramatic, but it is meant to be.  Any 
comments, e-mail me at Dianora2@aol.com.

Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Melissa Scully, and 
Ellen are properties of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, 
and Fox Broadcasting.  Although I haven't seen Jersey Devil 
so I don't even know what Ellen looks like.  Does it really matter? :)  
No copyright infringement intended.



Dana Katherine Scully hugged her arms against the slight chill in 
the ballroom and tapped her foot in time to the Virginia Reel the 
band had just begun to play.  She felt a sharp pang that no one had 
yet asked her to dance that evening, and knowing that it was for an 
unfair reason--not many Southern gentlemen wanted to be seen 
dancing with an Irish girl--did nothing to lessen the ache inside of 
her.  She did notice that a few men had braved such ignominy for 
the chance to dance with her sister Melissa, who, were it not for her 
heritage, would easily be the belle of Charleston.  Dana supposed 
that if she herself were just a bit prettier, just a bit more vivacious, 
that she would also warrant such attention; but the fact was that that 
was just not so.  Her friend Ellen had assured her that she looked 
beautiful this evening, and Dana had to admit she was secretly pleased 
with the way her emerald green satin gown cinched her waist and 
emphasized her bosom.  Her mother had allowed her to wear her 
grandmother's gold and emerald necklace and matching earbobs, and 
her hair was swept back in the latest style, with tortoise shell combs 
holding her tumbling red curls away from her round face.  She still felt 
she had not completely mastered the art of navigating a hoop skirt, 
however; and she supposed for that reason she should be grateful 
no gentlemen had asked her to accompany them to the dance floor, 
as tripping over her skirt in the middle of the ballroom would do little 
to enhance her reputation.

Ellen was suddenly at her side, her cheeks flushed from dancing and 
her gold-threaded sky blue gown glittering in the candlelight.  "Have 
you heard?" she asked breathlessly, waving her ivory fan in front of 
her face.

Dana shook her head.  "Heard what?"

Ellen lowered her voice conspiratorially to the tone of voice she reserved 
for scandals.  "Apparently Mr. Skinner has allowed some Yankee soldiers 
from Fort Sumter to attend the party.  He's actually friends with a 
lieutenant!  Can you imagine?  And no one seems willing to offend Mr. 
Skinner by protesting."

"Is it wise of Mr. Skinner to do such a thing, considering the hostility 
toward Yankees in Charleston?  In all of the South?" Dana wondered.  
She prided herself on her knowledge of current events, listening to all 
of her father's dinner table arguments and even eavesdropping outside 
of his study on occasion.  She knew the country was on the brink of war, 
and she didn't relish the idea of it starting tonight in Mr. Skinner's ballroom.

"Of course it isn't," Ellen said impatiently.  "But isn't it *exciting*?  Oh, 
look, there they are!  There's four of them!"

Dana studied them curiously.  Three of the soldiers were rather nondescript: 
one sported a full mustache and beard; the second had unusually long blond 
hair and wore spectacles; and the third one was short and rather...toadlike.  
The lieutenant, however, was another matter.  He was tall, lean, and carried 
himself with a certain air of authority, without crossing the line into arrogance.  
His soft brown hair fell carelessly against his forehead, and his lips were full 
and sensuous.  Dana found herself wondering what color the man's eyes 
were, and nearly blushed at even entertaining such a silly thought.  Yet she 
couldn't deny that she felt drawn to him somehow--it was a struggle to look 
away from him, to turn her attention back to Ellen and listen to what the 
young woman was saying.

"Isn't he handsome?" she was saying, predictably.  "I think I heard his 
name is Mulder.  Lieutenant Mulder."

"Mulder," Dana repeated, trying the name out on her tongue.  "Yes, he 
is...intriguing, isn't he?"  As she watched, the Yankee soldier scanned the 
room, the way she would expect an officer to immediately assess his terrain,
 when his gaze abruptly fell upon her, meeting her stare directly.  She 
looked away, embarrassed, heat rising to her cheeks, but not before she 
saw his posture stiffen and his mouth open slightly.  I've probably offended 
him, she thought worriedly, and no wonder: staring at him like an animal 
in a zoo.  What has happened to my manners?

"Dana!" Ellen hissed, her blond curls bobbing.  "He's coming over here!  
Whatever shall we do?"

"Just grant him the courtesy you would bestow on any gentleman," Dana 
advised, sounding calmer than she felt as she smoothed her skirt in 
anticipation.

"Excuse me, ladies."  Dana looked up--and up--into the young lieutenant's 
face.  His eyes, she noticed immediately, were hazel, a wondrous color that 
seemed to shift from blue to green in an instant.  "I'm sorry to disturb you," 
he said, in a tone of voice that suggested he was anything but, "but a gentleman 
informed me that the most beautiful lady here tonight was a woman with
 glorious red hair.  I believe I have found her."

Dana struggled to compose herself while Ellen didn't even bother to hide
 her look of astonishment.  "I believe the gentleman of whom you speak 
was referring to my sister, Melissa."

"Really?"  The corners of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.  "Then 
surely he must have been mistaken."  Those wondrous eyes locked onto 
hers in an alien way that made Dana's breath catch in her throat.  "But 
please, forgive me for not introducing myself.  Lt. Fox Mulder, at your 
service."

It took a moment for Dana to find her voice.  "Dana.  Dana Scully.  And 
this is Ellen Powers," she added, extending her hand to him as Ellen made 
a small curtsy beside her.

Lt. Mulder bowed to Ellen, then took Dana's hand and kissed it through 
the white glove.  "An honor," he murmured.

"You're too kind," she responded weakly.

"Would you do me the additional honor of dancing with me, Miss Dana?" 
he asked.

Dana nodded and accompanied him to the dance floor in a daze, dimly 
grateful that she at least had enough presence of mind to not trip over her 
hoop skirt.  The band had segued into a slow waltz, and she forced herself 
not to tremble as Lt. Mulder placed one hand on her waist and used the other 
to grasp her hand tightly.  She rested her free hand on his chest, since she 
couldn't comfortably reach his shoulder.  The woolen fabric of his navy 
uniform was rough to the touch, even through the thin material of her glove.  
She didn't much appreciate the fact that she was on eye level with the gold 
buttons running down his chest, so she craned her neck up to find him 
staring at her, his eyes studying her in a decidedly unsettling manner.  But 
she could not quite bring herself to look away.  "How long have you been 
stationed here in South Carolina?" she finally asked, straining for some 
sense of normalcy.

"About three months now," he answered, "although I expect to be 
transferred soon."

She nodded, absorbing the information.  Transferred due to possible 
impending war, or to be closer to his family, or... "I suppose Mrs. Mulder 
must miss you," she ventured, shocked at her boldness.

He smiled slightly.  "Yes, my mother misses me terribly."  The smile 
widened as he saw understanding surface on Dana's face.  "She's the 
only Mrs. Mulder who worries for me, I'm afraid."

"I didn't mean to--"

"I know what you meant," he interrupted, but his tone was gentle.  "Miss 
Dana, I know this will sound crazy, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but 
I have the oddest feeling--like I know you already.  Like...like I've known 
you for a long time."

She tried to think of a witty response, but flirting had never been an easy 
skill for her.  "I think...I think I feel the same way, Lt. Mulder."  His fingers 
gripped hers tighter, and she struggled to lighten the topic, knowing that 
they were treading on dangerous ground.  "You certainly have an interesting 
first name," she said, in what she vainly hoped was a light and teasing 
fashion.

To her surprise his eyes darkened.  "I have never liked it," he said quietly.  
"It does not suit me."

Dana thought differently, but knew enough to hold her tongue.  She felt a 
sadness coming from this man, a deep sadness that had probably been with 
him a long time.  She closed her eyes briefly, trying to get a handle on where 
the sadness originated from.  An emptiness...?  "You've lost someone you 
love, haven't you," she said abruptly, not certain how she knew.

He winced, startled.  "How did you...yes.  I lost my sister, a long time ago."

"And it still troubles you greatly."

His eyes searched hers boldly.  "Yes."  He lifted his hand from her waist 
to brush a stray red curl from her face.  Dana froze as an unfamiliar wave 
of desire shot through her and settled somewhere in her abdomen.  His 
swift intake of breath assured her that she was not alone in her reaction.

"Miss Dana," he said hoarsely, and she suspected his mouth was as dry 
as hers, "would you care to join me on the balcony for some fresh air?"

"I'd love to."  It never occurred to her to say anything different.  He navigated 
their path through the press of dancing couples to the magnificent French 
doors that led out onto the low balcony.  Due to the unusual chill in the air 
that night they found themselves pleasantly alone outside.

"Would you like my jacket?" he asked her.  "Are you cold?"

She shook her head.  "It feels nice," she said truthfully.  The cold had never 
before felt quite so exhilarating.  He stepped closer to her, and she was 
surprised her heart didn't burst in her chest, it was beating so unbelievably 
fast.  "Where are you from, Fox Mulder?" she asked, wanting to know more
 than anything in the world at that moment.

He shrugged minutely.  "Massachusetts."

"Really?"  She raised an eyebrow at him and was pleased when he smiled 
at the gesture.  "I don't think I've ever met someone from so far away."

"It really is like a different world up there," he said thoughtfully.  "Our streets 
are busier, the people more hurried, and the parties are not quite so...
spectacular."

"I'd love to see it," she said hesitantly, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.  
"I've never really been outside of Charleston.  It can get quite dull."  She 
turned away from him to study the familiar view from the balcony, dismayed 
to realize that even in the dark she could recognize nearly every carriage in 
front of the house.  The predictability of it all weighed on her heavily.

"I'd love to show it to you," he whispered beside her ear, and she jumped 
at the feel of his breath on her hair.  "As for Charleston, as of tonight it has 
become a lot more...exciting."  He gently turned her around so that she was
 facing him once more.  "Do you...do you feel that way too?" he asked tentatively.  
She had the sudden insight that this man had been hurt by women before, 
and that this openness was very difficult for him.

"Who was she?" she asked, before she could stop the words from tumbling 
from her lips.

The question visibly took him aback, but he recovered quickly and took 
one of her hands in his.  "Someone who apparently did not understand me 
in two years the way you have managed to in just one night."  His other 
hand cupped her chin gently and tilted her face up to him.  "And whose 
eyes were not such a startling shade of blue."

As his lips moved inexorably closer, Dana tried to pull back, to protest, 
but it was as if she was frozen in place, trapped by a witch's spell.  His lips 
brushed hers delicately and a tingle ran through her.

She had never been kissed before.

And the thought came to her faintly that it was not seemly for her to be 
doing so now.

Sensing her tension, Lt. Mulder pulled back.  "I'm sorry, Miss Dana.  
Please forgive me."

She shook her head, tugged him closer to her.  "There is no need for an 
apology, Lieutenant."  And then his lips were on hers again, harder this time, 
more insistent.  She reached up to clutch his strong shoulders and kissed 
him back, the whole time completely astonished at herself, at this man, at 
this night.

When he pulled away the second time they were both breathing hard.  
"Dana," he gasped, "how would your father feel about your being courted 
by a Yankee?"

She opened her mouth to respond when suddenly the world ended around them.

"WAR!" came a shout from within, and silence fell over the festivities. 
 "Our troops have just fired on Fort Sumter!  Ladies and gentlemen, we 
are now at war!"

Mulder cursed softly under his breath as the room erupted in whoops and 
cheers.  Dana could practically see the color drain from his face.  "I have 
to get out of here," he said urgently.  "My men--my men will be long gone 
by now.  How can I leave without being seen?"

Dana knew the answer to that question all too well, and for the first time 
that night was grateful for familiarity.  "Right here.  See this tree?  It's a 
good climbing tree.  I used to jump from this balcony into the branches 
and then shimmy down when I was a little girl.  Got in heaps of trouble 
for it, too."

"Dana..."  He clasped her hands.  "I must...can I write you?"

She nodded.  "Will you remember the address?"

"I have an excellent memory," he assured her.

"It's 1121 Dogwood Lane, here in Charleston."

"I'll write as soon as I can," he promised.  "Take care of yourself, Dana.  
This war...well, war is not nearly as glorious as these gentlemen would 
like to believe."

Dana gulped as a new thought struck her.  People died in war.  "Please 
be careful," she said desperately.

"I will.  It seems that I suddenly have something to live for."  His lips 
brushed hers quickly.  "We'll meet again, Dana," he said fervently.  "I 
know we will."

Dana hoped against hope that he was right.  "You must go now," she 
whispered.  "Hurry!"

He touched her face one last time, then jumped gracefully from the balcony 
railing to the branches of the gnarled maple tree.  She could barely make 
out his dark figure as he clambered down the tree and started running 
purposefully down the street.

"Dana?"  She turned to see Ellen standing there.  "Did you hear?  We're 
at war!"  She seemed positively delighted at the prospect.

Dana smiled thinly.  "I know."

"That Yankee lieutenant isn't still here, is he?  It would surely be dangerous 
for him.  I saw his fellow officers leave some time back."

Dana shook her head and led the way back into the ballroom, into the crowd 
of jubilant gentlemen and ladies, eager for the glory of battle.  "He left soon 
after they did," she said emotionlessly.

"Well, it certainly is a shame he's a Yankee," Ellen chattered on.  "He was 
so very handsome."

"Was he?  I didn't notice," Dana said absently, and traced her lips with a 
gloved finger.