From: kleinjan@btinternet.com 

Date: Thu, 05 Feb 1998 20:49:08 GMT

Subject: 14 April, 1912NC17.Alisha.atxc



Title: 14 April, 1912 (NC17 version)

Author: Alisha

Rating: NC17 - - I didn't want this story to be NC17, and 

there is a G version, but I figured more people would read 

this one cos basically you're all pervs. In the nicest 

possible way, though, I swear - I'd do the same. However, 

IMHO, the G version is better. Never mind, hey?

Classification: SRA

Spoilers: Memento Mori (only an ickle spoiler)

Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance, *partly* pre-xf (sort of)

Summary: Mulder and Scully decide they've suffered enough in 

past lifetimes to stay apart for another moment.



Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully aren't mine, and I've used 

them without permission. Sorry etc. Louise Laroche and 

David Barton were real people, but the descriptions of 

them and their situations in this story are entirely 

fictional, as are the diary entries.



Notes: Don't you hate it when authors do this? They hear 

a good song or see a good movie and they instantly think 

of fanfic. 'I know!' they say, and a few heartfelt pages 

later, they're submitting their story. ::sigh:: Did any 

of you see Titanic??? If you didn't, you're either averse 

to good movies or bedridden (or you were on the back row, 

*Kirsty and Greg*). Either way, you missed out on what is 

probably one of the best movies ever made, and you've 

saved some money on Kleenex. So this is my 'good' fanfic 

after seeing a beautiful movie.



STOP THE PRESSES!!!! My good friend Dx sent me this just 

seconds after writing the above!!!!



=======================



Subject:        CHALLENGE - Titanic

From:   "Deslea R. Judd" 

Date:   Mon, 26 Jan 1998 00:02:04 -0800



I want to pose a Titanic fanfic challenge...



Write an X File set on the Titanic.  I don't care if 

Mulder and Scully get sucked back in time and wind up 

on the ship, or whether they're involved in a current-day 

salvage hunt, or it's an alternate reality in which the 

Titanic didn't sink, but the bulk of the action has to 

involve the Titanic as a locale, in any time period, 

preferably involving a real X File.  Not a condition, 

but I'd *love* it if Skinner was there and doin' the 

wild thang with Scully, but that's my bias coming out.  

Bonus points for novel length.  Extra bonus points for 

incorporating characters from the movie (eg Jack and 

Rose).  Grand Slam for incorporating genuine historical 

characters and/or accurate details of the sinking.



One more thing:  would people mind sending me a copy 

when it's done? I'm posing this challenge specifically 

because it's something *I* want to read .



Cheers!  Deslea



==================================



So there you go! How could I not write this now?



Dedication: This is for Romy, who cried just as much as I 

did (sorry, Romy - I said 'auburn' and not 'ginger tosser'), 

and for KitCat, who refrained from standing up and yelling 

'Leo! Leo!'. Well done, KitCat.



Feedback: kleinjan@btinternet.com 





xoxox

14 April, 1912

by Alisha

xoxox





April 14 1998



Scully took a deep breath and let the fresh air fill her 

lungs. 



"Eighty six years ago today, Scully." Mulder said behind 

her. 



"What was?" She turned around shielded her eyes from the 

sun which was casting Mulder into a silhouette. 



"Titanic." Mulder said, casually chewing on something and 

then swallowing. "Titanic hit the iceberg."



Scully nodded and turned around to look back out at the 

ocean.



"Can you imagine, Scully? Imagine being there." Scully 

heard Mulder sigh. "Can you imagine being in a lifeboat, 

watching the ship go down, all the people dying?" 



Scully folded her arms across her chest. "It must have 

been awful." She said blankly. 



"What if you weren't in a lifeboat." Mulder said  

thoughtfully. "What if you weren't women or children or 

first class? What if you were stranded on deck as the ship 

sucked you down, and you knew you were going to die in the 

most horrible way?"



Scully shuddered and opened her mouth wider to breath, 

suddenly conscious that she could. "I laughed." She said, 

after exhaling calmly. 



"What?"



"When I was little. I can remember quite clearly - I was 

sitting with my mother and she was reading a book about 

this ship - this big unsinkable ship. I don't think I 

was old enough to understand what irony is, but I laughed 

when she told me that the big unsinkable ship sank." 



"Irony." Mulder said thoughtfully.



"It was stupid really. I shouldn't have thought twice about 

it;" Scully paused, "but every time my father got on a boat 

- and I'm talking *every time* - I'd wonder if it would hit 

an iceberg. And what could they say to stop me from thinking 

that? They could hardly tell me that my father's ships were 

unsinkable, could they? Stupid."



Mulder smiled, understanding, but said, "All the things 

that happened. All the tiny little things which all added up 

to fate that the Titanic would sink. Did you know she was 

supposed to take her maiden voyage in March, and not April?"



Scully turned again, to find that Mulder had wandered closer 

to her. "I didn't know." She said, looking at his shoulder. 



"And that there were supposed to be an extra twelve lifeboats? 

Think how many other passengers could have survived."



Scully thought. 





xoxox





April 10 1912



Boarding the Titanic, surely the greatest ship ever to sail, 

Louise felt elated. The atmosphere was thick with excitement 

for the passengers and crew of the ship's maiden voyage; this 

was a new beginning, a clean slate. 



The crowds were waving and cheering, and the passengers stood 

by the stark white - brand new - railings, waving back. 



But Louise at the back of this crowd, having no-one to wave 

to and feeling stupid enough anyway for being all alone while 

everyone else was holding hands or linking arms or standing 

close. 



She tossed her auburn hair and stared at the tiny choppy waves 

as though hypnotised. 



Everyone around her was so wealthy, so grand. Louise knew that 

she was well-dressed enough to fit in with the first class 

passengers - even to get along with them.  



But of course, it was another matter to actually *be* first 

class. 



Her dresses were all new - paid for with her inheritance money 

from some well-off old aunt her family had not known about. 

That was how she had acquired a first class ticket, and how she 

was intending to start again in America. 



Things were perfect. Titanic was vast and clean and new; the 

people were happy; the ocean brought promise of a new life. 



Louise spent the first few hours on deck, smiling warmly at the 

relaxed passers-by as she wrote her journal.





xoxox





April 14 1998



"Sorry. About before." Mulder said, entering Scully's motel 

room.



"What?"



"Talking about Titanic. I didn't mean to upset you."



"Oh, you didn't. I was just thinking. Wondering."



"Okay. I wanted to show you these, that's all." He handed her 

some papers.



"What is this?"



"I printed it off the Internet, I thought you might find it 

interesting." He stood behind her as her sharp blue eyes 

darted across the page.



"God... this is amazing."



"They rescued it - it was found in the bottom of one of the 

lifeboats intercepted by the Carpathia."



"Have you read this??"



Mulder shrugged, "I skimmed through it."



"Do you mind if I keep these?" Scully turned and looked up at 

Mulder, holding the papers in one hand.



He shook his head. "Keep it. Like I said, I thought you might 

find it interesting."



Scully smiled. "Thanks."





xoxox





April 10 1912



Travelling alone felt terrible. People were kind, and smiled, 

and made smalltalk, but Louise understood how people said you 

can feel lonely in a crowd. 



Sitting on deck, writing her journal, rich people passed by her 

all the time, all with someone else to talk to - or just to be 

in comfortable silence with. 



"Is this seat taken?" 



Louise was startled and looked up, quickly closing her journal 

as her eyes met with the stranger's. 



"No." She said, smiling politely. The gentleman sat beside her, 

looking out at the white-flecked ocean. 



"Are you travelling alone?" He asked.



"Uh, yes. Are you?" 



He nodded. "I've just been on a business trip - on my way home 

now." His accent was American, she noted. "The weather's 

beautiful, isn't it?"



"Mmm, mild." Louise extended a lacy-gloved hand. "Louise 

Laroche." She introduced herself. 



He kissed her hand. "David Barton." He frowned slightly. 

"Louise... I knew a Louise once. My hostess when I stayed in 

Venice, if I recall."



"Do you travel much?" Louise was taken in by his charming 

throaty voice and deep hazel eyes.



"Occasionally." He nodded. "Do you?" 



"This is my first time abroad." Louise said. "I've only recently 

come into money," as she said these words, she was unsure as to 

whether she was saying the right thing - but she continued 

nevertheless, "so this whole trip is rather...  intimidating... 

to say the least."



David smiled. "Well if you ever need anything then I'll be glad 

to serve."



"Thank-you, you're very kind." Louise said, relaxing a little. 

"I may just continue to write now, if you don't mind." 



"Not at all." David said, looking back out over the water. 

"Are you an author?" 



She shook her head and smiled. "It's just my journal." 



"Ah." 



Louise continued writing:-



1:30pm



I have just met a charming man named David Barton - he too 

is travelling alone and seems to be very nice. Apart from him, 

I have barely spoken to a single soul since I boarded and a 

relaxed conversation is welcome. 



I am pleased by my first impressions of Mr. Barton; he seems 

quite wealthy and he has travelled a lot. I think I may have 

found a friend.





xoxox





Scully read the journal with interest, trying to see through 

the eyes of the young woman whose words were reproduced in 

Times New Roman. She imagined the smell of the ocean, holding 

the pen - she imagined the handwriting; slanting and perfect. 

The black ink drying slowly, glistening on the page. 



She read:-





4:40pm



I will be eating with Mr. Barton tonight. Though he is 

travelling alone, he is - of course - well known in the social 

circles on the ship, and he says he will introduce me to the 

people I should know. Some of the most prestigious names in 

Philadelphia's upper class will be there, and I can't deny 

that I'm nervous. 





Scully brushed a lock of coppery hair from her face, turning 

the page over. 





xoxox 





"Miss Laroche!" 



Louise turned to see David briskly walking down the deck 

towards her. She paused until he had caught up and then they 

continued walking together. "Louise." She said. 



"Then you must call me David." 



"Of course. I'm looking forward to dinner tonight." 



"Boring." David said casually. "All terrible snobs, I assure 

you."



"And you're not a snob?" Louise asked with a smile, glad that 

she could relax.



"That depends. How do you define a snob?" 



"I don't." 



David frowned and then smiled. "Good." 





xoxox





Scully's fingers brushed the words as she read them:-





I have spent the last half hour simply trying to find a dress 

for dinner. I have never worn this particular dress before - 

in truth I have only really worn one or two of my dresses since 

they were bought for me. 



In fifteen minutes I have to go to meet David. 





"Scully?"



"Come in." Scully said, suddenly back in reality. 



Mulder pushed open the door. "Are you all right? You look a 

bit peaky."



"I'm fine." 



"Good. I just came to say goodnight."



"What time is it??" She asked, puzzled. "I must have been 

reading for hours." Scully held up the paper.



"It's only ten. But I'm tired - I'll probably just catch you 

tomorrow, okay?"



"Sure. Sleep well." Scully smiled as Mulder edged out of the 

room again.





xoxox





It was late - Louise was tired, but after the revelations of 

the evening, she felt compelled to write her journal. She 

sat at the ornate writing desk, her thick auburn locks 

falling into her face as she quickly wrote;



12:05pm



This sounds absurd - I can't even be sure I'm about to write 

it, but - I think I have fallen in love with David. There. 

It *is* totally absurd; I've known the man all of five minutes 

and now I'm making a fool of myself by writing this down to 

remember forever. 



He was charming at dinner, he helped to make me feel like I 

was really fitting in with the grandest of Philadelphia 

society. He is witty, too, and the ladies and gentlemen we 

ate with are obviously rather fond of him. None as much as I, 

though. 





Louise paused, tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling, 

deep in thought. 





Maybe we will live in America together, by one of the great 

lakes, and we will vacation in Venice every spring.



I'm being ridiculous now - if I keep thinking like this I'll 

be thoroughly miserable for the rest of my life when we step 

off this boat and never see each other again.





xoxox





Scully stopped and reread these paragraphs, tucking her hair 

behind her ear. She smiled to herself, remembering with a blush 

the number of times she had imagined arriving at the FBI one 

morning with all her suitcases packed and grabbing Mulder and 

running off with him forever. 



Scully read on - she read through pages of beautiful writing 

about David, and found herself slipping deeper inside Louise's 

mind as she did so. She could close her eyes after each 

paragraph and relive every moment Louise described. She was in 

love with David every bit as much as Louise was, she had her 

own mental image of him, and it had not yet occurred to her to 

question that image. 



The newest entry was on a new date, and Scully's skin chilled 

when she saw that it was the fourteenth. Exactly eighty six 

years previously - Louise Laroche had been sitting on a grand 

vessel in the middle of the Atlantic, writing her journal. 

Scully's mind itched with curiosity - had Louise survived? And 

David? She wanted more than anything for them to have lived 

their lives together by the side of one of the great lakes.





10:40pm



I can't recall a time in my life when I have ever been as happy 

as I am right now. David and I are going to stay together. When 

we leave this boat, we will be together. 





Scully could feel her heart beating fast in her chest. Irony, 

she thought. It was an hour before the Titanic would sink. Tears 

of happiness and fear for the historical couple were spilling 

and there was little she could do to stop them. 



That was, until she read the next paragraph, and she felt 

suddenly sobered and shocked. 





I will show David this journal, and he will read my words to 

him which I - for some reason - can't express out loud.



David, for the first time, I feel time like a heartbeat. I feel 

these words as if their meaning were weight being lifted from me. 

Knowing that you will read them, and share my heart as I have 

come to love no other.





Scully recognised these words - though in their slightly 

different from, and she was slightly freaked out. She read on,





That you should know my heart, look into it, finding there the 

recent memories and experiences that belong to you... that *are* 

you, is a comfort to me now, as you are all I have here. 





Scully stopped reading. Then began again. And then stopped. 

These were the words she had written to Mulder. And here they 

were in a love letter she had previously never read, and they 

were scaring her. 



Her image of David - charming and debonair, was nothing more 

than Mulder in Edwardian dress. 



The letter - also the last entry in the journal, ended so; 





As I go to meet you now, you will see nothing but love in my 

eyes. This will last forever, I promise. Louise.





xoxox





11:40pm



Whilst Scully was reading this and wiping more scared tears 

from her paled skin, Mulder was asleep in the next room. 



He was dreaming of being on the Titanic. He was there with 

Scully, both of them in Edwardian clothes, speaking Edwardian 

dialogue, and executing Edwardian manners. 



He was kissing Scully, and he could feel the softness of her 

skin. 



"I love you." She whispered. 



"I love you too. Always." He pulled her close to him. Then he 

felt the shudder of the boat hitting the iceberg. He knew it 

was happening, although the part of his mind still capable 

of logical thought was telling him that he shouldn't know. 



He told Scully that he didn't know, when she asked. 



There was another jolt, and then he woke up. 



He wiped his face and shifted in the uncomfortable starchy 

bed. He was used to having such dreams about Scully, but 

they had never been quite as *weird* as that one. 



Then his eyes fell upon the clock on the table besides him. 



He stopped. He blinked. He looked again. It was 11:40. He 

laughed. 



Exactly eighty six years ago, at that precise time - the 

Titanic had hit the iceberg. "Jesus." Mulder said with a 

sigh, sliding back under the covers and drifting back to 

sleep.





xoxox





Mulder's dream progressed. It was the most vivid dream he had 

ever experienced. He was on Titanic. He was with Scully, and 

they were in love. The boat was going down.



Well dressed gentlemen of the crew were ordering first class 

passengers on deck in their lifebelts. 



Women and children first. Scully was holding on tight to his 

lapels, and promising she wouldn't ever leave him, even if 

that meant falling to the bottom of the ocean with him. 



They were standing on the deck, watching the first class 

women and their children as they were lowered down to the 

perfectly calm water below. 



Suddenly, Scully's wrist was taken by one of the officers 

filling the lifeboats, and she was pulled from him. Mulder 

could feel the fear pounding in his ears and in his heart. 



"Please," Scully was saying firmly. "Just let me stay with 

my husband." 



Husband. Mulder knew somewhere that this was a lie. 



Scully was breaking free and she fell backwards, rather 

undignified into one of the lifeboats which was still empty 

and on deck. 



She clambered out. "Let me stay." She said again. The officer 

leaned in to her and said in a hushed voice, "Madam, this 

ship will sink. Please save yourself." 



Scully's eyes turned to Mulder, pleading with him. Mulder 

was torn between begging her to go, and live, and longing 

to hold her to him for just a few moments more. 



"I *will* stay." She said finally, pulling her arm free. 

The officer relented, and Mulder found Scully by his side 

again. 



"We're going to sink, Louise." Mulder told her. The name 

echoed in his mind, he wondered why he had called her that.



"We can't." Scully said. "We've only just met."



The dream went on - the ship was sinking, and fast. He was 

going to die on board with Scully if they didn't find a 

lifeboat soon. 



"I have... I have to show you something." Scully was saying 

as the ship lurched and made the most awful noises. She 

reached for the small bag she was carrying with her, but 

soon realised that it was empty. 



"What is it?" Mulder asked, holding some railings as the 

ship lurched again. 



"It's gone!" Scully complained, tears in her eyes. "My 

journal - it was right here and it's gone now." 



"You must have dropped it." He said. 



"But I had to... I had to show you." She was crying now. 



"What was so important, Louise? Tell me." 



The ship lurched again, and tipped at a steeper angle. He 

clung to her. 



"Tell me." He repeated soothingly. "What was it?" 



Scully looked at the floor. "It's nothing, really. I just 

wrote you a letter. I wanted you to see." Her stunning eyes 

looked back up at him, brimming with tears and emotion.



He knew.





xoxox





Mulder's dream ended at 02:20 when he woke up unable to breath. 

He staggered to the window and opened it, taking deep breaths 

of the cool night air. 



His dream was still burning in his memory - he had experienced 

love and fear and loss and death - and it felt more real than 

a mere sub-conscious thought.



There was a knock at his motel door and when he opened it, a 

distraught Scully burst in. She was crying so violently, her 

whole body shaking and her head bent over as she fell into 

his arms.



"What is it Scully? What's happened? Are you okay? Tell me."



Scully didn't stop crying. She couldn't. Mulder pushed the 

motel door shut and guided Scully to go and sit on the bed. 



"What's wrong?" He asked again, and Scully finally seemed to 

calm down. 



"I don't know." She said stupidly. "I can't explain it - I... 

can't." 



The sight of Scully crying made Mulder's dream seemingly live 

on, albeit in a different setting. 



Mulder noticed the crumpled paper in Scully's hand. 



"Have you been reading this?" 



"It's awful, Mulder - listen... 'These are the final journal 

entries of Miss Louise Laroche, aged 19, who died along with 

her new love when the Titanic dragged them under.'"



"Louise," Mulder said under his breath.  



"She really loved him, Mulder. So much - you can tell. She 

probably... died... without even showing David - without 

telling him how she felt."



"He knew." Mulder said instantly, and Scully's trembling 

stopped. He paused, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her 

to support herself against his shoulder. "I do love you, Scully." 

 

Scully remembered the feelings she had held for David Barton, 

just reading the tragic words which had been around for so 

long, but had touched no-one the way they had her. David had 

been Mulder in her mind's eye. "I love you too." She said, 

and that was all they needed to say to one another. 



Their lips met in their first kiss and nothing would ever take 

that beautiful, magical moment away from them. 



While Mulder drew closer, down to the bed; running his hand 

up her thigh and pulling at her jeans - Scully still gripped 

the journal entries with blue-veined fingers. 



She lost herself in Mulder's kisses, every second falling deeper 

and deeper. His tongue nipped at her ear lobe and he whispered 

that he loved her, while he unzipped her jeans with trembling 

fingers. 



The both of them quickly divested themselves of their clothes, 

it was only then that Scully scattered the papers over the floor 

as her fingers weakened when Mulder's lips were against her. 



He planted kisses along her sternum, his fingers caressing the 

soft skin of her inner thigh, rising higher, higher. She 

flinched and gasped as his fingers entered her, probing deep 

and extracting sweet responses from her.



Her hips were moving of their own accord, urgently against his 

hand, and her tongue was seeking deep into his mouth. 



He then removed his fingers and shifted further up the bed, 

finally sliding inside her. Scully urged him on, and he began 

to move in and out of her, faster and faster until she knew 

she could contain herself no longer and she came - rather 

verbally - shuddering hard around him and eliciting his own 

orgasm. Her breath arrived erratically and she could hear that 

his was the same. He kissed her neck, once, and encircled her 

with his arms. 



"This will last forever." Scully said. "I promise." 









The End





The real Louise Laroche was only very young when she sailed 

on Titanic (I think she was about one or two), and survived 

along with her mother and sister - though her father died. 



There is very little information available on the real David 

Barton - except that he did not survive the accident.



Incidentally, I did notice a 'Theo Mulder' on the Titanic 

passenger list. Just thought you might wanna know.



xoxox



So, that's the whole all. I'd really like to know what you 

think of this, since it's a story written on a whim, really 

written for myself more than anything/one else. It's also 

the kind of thing I would write when I still wrote under the 

name of 'Margi Kleinjan'. Hopefully better, though. And, 

sorry, Deslea, but no Skinner this time. 



xoxox

kleinjan@btinternet.com

xoxox



xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX



"Y'know, living in the city, you forget that night is actually

so... dark." - Mulder (QUAGMIRE!!!)  



"I ate two slices of bad pizza, went to bed, and grew a 

CONSCIENCE!" -Jerry Maguire

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