"The Seventh Side of the Triangle" (3/13)
by Susan Jameson (DrBarnBarn@aol.com)
See part 1 for disclaimers, etc.


So when Dana invited me to spend my Thanksgiving leave at her place, I
leapt like a trout to the fly. I guess I knew Daniel's boyfriend would
be there, too, but that was all right with me. I liked him okay; even
if I hadn't, I'd have tried pretty damn hard to keep that to myself
for Daniel's sake if nothing else.

Yeah, it looked like a great week for me, all in all -- until I put my
big stupid foot in my mouth with that idiot question about Jill's
song. I just wasn't thinking; to put it another way, I was being
incredibly thoughtless.

Yes, friends, it was yet another world-class fuck-up by Lieutenant
James Starlington Reilly, USN, otherwise known as the Village Idiot.

Daniel, as always, handled the situation with perfect grace. I wish to
Christ I could be as tactful as he is.

But when Dana said she'd go for a walk with me, I felt forgiven: I
already knew how protective she was of Mulder, so if she was willing
to be alone with me, she couldn't be too upset. That was good, because
I'd been wanting to get her alone again ever since she'd arrived that
afternoon.

Get your mind out of the sewer: I just wanted to talk to her, the way
we'd talked that day outside Bethesda and again at dinner that night.
I don't give a shit whether you find that credible or not.

After we got to the beach we headed off by ourselves, just the two of
us. I told her how bad I felt about the whole song thing, but she told
me I shouldn't worry.

"Some strain is inevitable in a situation such as this, Jim," she
said, walking along with her arms folded across her chest. "It wasn't
just the song."

"Well, if it wasn't just the song, then what the hell was it?" I said,
shoving my hands deep into my pockets. You can't do that in uniform,
so I tend to do it every chance I get when I'm in civilian clothes.
"Did something else happen?"

She shook her head. "No, not really," she said. "Just what you'd
expect -- Jill and Daniel still seem somewhat awkward around each
other, and there's been a bit of tension at work for Mulder and me."

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked, hopefully, but she shook
her head.

"It's nothing, really," she said. "Just the usual difficulties and
distractions. It's a time-consuming job."

"At least you don't have to sleep there," I said, trying to lighten
the conversation up a little. "I'm at work as soon as my feet hit the
deck in the morning -- or whatever the hell time it is when I get up."

"You don't see the sun much, do you?" Dana said, smiling at me for the
first time since we'd started walking. "That must be very
disorienting."

I shrugged. "It's okay while you're aboard," I said. "It's when you
surface that you get thrown off schedule."

Dana nodded, then fell silent again. I was just about to try another
conversational gambit when she finally spoke.

"I'm afraid I'll be getting a little off schedule myself, Jim," she
said. "Mulder and I have to help out with an operation in New York
City tonight. It shouldn't take long, but we'll be gone from midnight
to perhaps as late as midmorning tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"What kind of operation?" I said, feeling apprehensive for some reason
I couldn't identify.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," she said, looking out over the water.
"And certainly nothing for anyone to worry about."

"Then why are you worried?" I said.

Dana shot me a sharp glance. "I'm not sure you know me well enough to
make that judgment, Jim," she said.

Whoa. Iceberg dead ahead. All engines back full.

"Maybe not," I said, flashing what I hoped was an irresistible smile,
"but I'd sure like to."

She didn't even look in my direction. "We should be getting back," she
said. "It's getting late and I have to change."

Collision. Abandon ship.

With a sigh, I turned my attention back to the sea, and I immediately
felt better. Funny how I can hate it when I'm beneath the surface and
be helplessly drawn back to it when I'm ashore. No wonder Elise left
me. No wonder Dana doesn't want to get involved. Can't really say I
blame either of them.

I can't begin to imagine what I'll do when I'm finally too old to go
to sea anymore. I can't even stand to think about it.

We didn't talk as we headed back toward the road, but it wasn't all
that bad. I already knew Dana well enough to know that she wasn't
necessarily angry; she'd just crawled back into her shell, which
she'll do in a minute if someone touches a nerve -- someone, that is,
besides my brother or her partner. They seem to be shell-proof. I'd
like to be shell-proof myself someday.

Now _that_ would be worth waiting for.

As we got closer, I could see the campfire up near the road, and I
knew right away that that's where Daniel was. He'd light a fire in
midsummer if he thought he could get away with it.

Everything on the other side of the campfire was too deep in shadow
for me to see, except Jill, who was standing with her back to the
fire, shivering.

"I'd better go talk to her," Dana said, laying one cool hand on my
forearm. It was the first time she'd touched me that night. "I hope
you understand."

"Sure," I said, nodding, although I didn't really. Everything looked
just fine to me.

Dana started to walk away, but then she turned back just for a second.
"I'm sorry I've been so distant, Jim," she said, smiling
apologetically. "Maybe we'll have a chance to talk more tomorrow after
I get back from New York."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," I said.

"I was hoping you would," she said, with a real smile this time, as
she turned and walked toward Jill.

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

As Jill Saw It

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

I swear, I was not trying to intrude.

I was alone, walking down the beach by myself, but I didn't mind. It
nice to be alone for a minute, to have some quiet time in which to
think about everything that had happened in the past few weeks.

And it was a beautiful night, dark and cool, with a full moon rising
in the sky. That made it harder to see the stars, but the water was a
lovely midnight blue and the sound of the waves splashing against the
shore was soothing.

Yes, it was beautiful.

And I was very near tears, even though just moments before I had been
feeling happier than I had since the day Daniel left me.

At first it was wonderful, sharing those lovely memories of our
marriage -- which was, and remains, the happiest time of my entire
life -- but that feeling lasted only as long as it took us to get to
the beach. Jimmy and Dana went one way, I went the other ...

And Daniel stayed back near the road with Mulder.

That was as good a demonstration as I'd seen yet of how things really
are now. And it was only going to get worse, from my point of view:
When we got back to the house tonight, they'd say goodnight to all of
us and then they'd walk into the master bedroom together and lock the
door.

I wasn't sure I could bear to see that.

I know every inch of Daniel's body, you know: I know how it feels to
be held by him and touched by him; I know how careful and considerate
and how loving he is in bed. I remember how sweet it was to lie with
him afterward and listen to his quiet voice, to let his heartbeat lull
me to sleep, to hear the slight rustling sound as he pulled the covers
over both of us.

Daniel was never what one might call passionate, but that only rarely
seemed important. I suppose I thought passion wasn't really in his
nature, that he just wasn't the kind to let go, not even when we were
making love.

Oh, but I had wanted him to. I used to dream of it sometimes, when we
were still married. When I would wake up and realize it had been just
another dream, I would cry. If Daniel was home, he would wake up and
he would put his arms around me and tell me it was all right, it was
just a bad dream.

I didn't know how to tell him it was the good dreams that broke my
heart ...

But I learned to live with it, for the most part. Daniel didn't make
love with me very often, but when he did, he made me feel like the
most beautiful, most cherished, most beloved woman on earth.

And yet all the time that Daniel was holding me and loving me, he was
secretly wishing he was with someone else ... someone like Mulder.

Don't misunderstand: I like Mulder. Really, I do. I started liking him
the day I met him, but it still hurts to see him with Daniel and to
know what they're sharing behind that door.

God, it hurts so much.

As I walked, I decided there was really no reason for me to stay here
and put myself through this any longer. Daniel was up and around; he
still tired easily, but he didn't need full-time nursing care. The
nursing director back home had been very generous in giving me the
additional time off, but her patience wasn't going to last forever. If
I wanted to keep my job, it was time to go home. It was past time.

Feeling resolute and determined, I headed back toward the glow of the
campfire, preparing to tell Daniel that I was going back up to the
house and that I needed to talk to him.

I walked up to an outcropping of rock that sheltered the fire from the
ever-present wind, peering around to see if Daniel was still there.

What I saw was like a knife in my heart. There was Daniel, lying next
to the fire with Mulder in his arms, kissing him in a way he'd never,
ever kissed me in the eighteen years we were together.

I turned back and walked away, but I felt shaken and dizzy and I had
to stop. I really didn't know what to do. I could feel my face
burning, too, and no wonder. I was thoroughly ashamed of myself. I
also felt just a little sick.

All right, I felt very sick -- with pure jealousy.

There's no telling how long I would have stood there torturing myself
had Dana and Jim not returned from their walk. She must have seen what
was happening and how upset I was, because she said something to Jim,
who nodded and started walking toward the house. Then she sort of
gently beckoned to me; as quietly as I could, I followed her.

For the first few minutes, we didn't even talk. We just walked along
the beach, further and further from the firelight, further into the
dark. I should have been frightened, I guess, but it's hard to be
afraid when you're with a trained FBI agent.

"Are you all right?" she asked me when we were out of earshot of the
others.

"I guess," I said, shaking my head. "I'm ... I guess I'm just not used
to all this yet."

"I'm sure it's not easy seeing your husband with someone else," she
said quietly, taking my hand briefly. "Especially not when that
someone is another man."

"No," I said. "It's not."

"They didn't know you were there, Jill," she said. "Neither of them
would ever deliberately do anything to upset you."

She spoke quietly, with great delicacy and compassion, and I thanked
God that she and I had begun to establish some kind of friendship
before this happened. I can't imagine how it would have gone if I
still resented her as much as I did at first.

But things were different now; now, I could trust her, and could give
her an honest answer.

"I know that," I said, miserably. "I just ... I think, you know, that
part of it is that I used to be the one who could calm Daniel down and
make him feel better. I miss that," I said, looking away from Dana. "I
really do. It hurts that I can't do that anymore. He was such a pill
today, and then when Mulder showed up ..."

"I noticed," Dana said. "Although I think you're selling yourself and
Daniel a little short. But I also think there's a different dynamic
here than what you're used to."

"Dana, I am absolutely certain of that," I said, with a kind of shaky
laugh. "I wish I understood it better."

"Maybe I can help you understand," she said, with that calm certainty
that I once found so annoying and now found so reassuring. "First,
remember that, gay or not, they're still men."

"Well, yeah, that's fairly obvious," I said, a bit puzzled. "What
exactly does that have to do with how I'm feeling?"

"It means that, with a few obvious exceptions, they relate to each
other the way any two men would relate to each other," Dana said. "And
no man likes to appear weak in front of another man -- not even when
that man is his lover."

All right, I got that one. Score one for Jill, with a major assist
from Dana.

"You're saying Daniel's been upset with me because I keep reminding
him that he's still not very strong," I said, speaking slowly because
I was still thinking it over. "And he knew Mulder would be here
tonight."

"Exactly," she said. And she stopped there, as though there wasn't any
more to say. Maybe, for her, there wasn't.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. I had a heavy sweater
on, but it was cold and windy, and the further we walked, the chillier
I got. But it was as much an emotional chill as anything else.

We walked on in silence for a while.

"Dana," I said, after we'd gone about 500 feet, "can I ask you
something personal?"

"Yes, but if it's too personal I may not answer," she said, very
calmly. I didn't doubt that: I already knew she was a very private
person.

"If you don't, I'll understand," I said. "I've just always wondered
when and how you found out that Mulder is gay."

She shrugged and folded her arms across her chest, but we kept
walking. "I've always known, I think," she said, looking down at her
feet. "Certainly, I've known since shortly after I met him."

"Oh," I said. Somehow that wasn't the answer I was hoping for. I think
she knew it, too.

"What's the matter, Jill?" she said, dropping her arms to her sides
again.

"Well, it's just ...," I began, then I stopped walking. She stopped
too, watching me with great concern. "I just ... I was hoping," I
said, with some difficulty, "that I wasn't the only woman who was
stupid enough not to see the signs. No offense intended."

"I can hardly be offended when you just said you're stupid and I'm
not," she said, with a little smile. "Although I doubt it's entirely
true in either case. But you have no reason to feel foolish, Jill;
Daniel was hiding his sexual orientation from everyone, even from
himself. There was no way for you to know."

"I know, I just ..." I stopped again, and shook my head. "I keep
wanting to talk to someone else who's been through this, and I thought
maybe you'd been in love with him, and that was why you two were so
close now. "

She didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," I said. "That was silly of me. You're his partner, and
here I am imagining there's some tragic romance ..."

She still didn't say anything.

And that's when I saw the truth ... or maybe when I realized what it
was I'd been seeing all along. "You _are_ in love with him," I
whispered.

She nodded. "So which of us is really stupid?" she asked.

"You mean ... you fell in love with him even though you knew..." I
said, in bewilderment.

"That he was gay," she finished for me. "Yes, I did."

"How can you go on with him when you know that it's hopeless?" I
asked. "I don't get it."

"He's my partner," she said. "We have a job to do together. And he's
also my best friend. I don't see those as hopeless relationships. You
wouldn't either, if you were me."

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I just can't see myself in a
relationship like that."

"Can't you?" she said, raising one eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" I said, puzzled.

"I mean I think you understand me better than you're willing to
acknowledge," Dana said, arms across her chest again. "If you didn't,
you wouldn't have used up all your vacation and started on what is now
your second week of unpaid leave just so you could stay here and take
care of Daniel."

I didn't have an answer for that one.

I just started walking again.

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

As Jim Saw It

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

That smile from Dana made me feel so damn good. Maybe that's why I was
so far out in the ozone that I didn't see the signs warning that I was
about to stick my goddamn foot in it yet again.

I was stretched out in front of the tube watching Saturday Night Live.
It was almost time for Dana and Mulder to leave for New York to do
whatever the hell it is FBI agents do in New York. Dana and Jill had
gotten back from their walk-and-talk about 10 minutes earlier, and
Dana had rushed to change clothes and then headed outside -- to warm
up the car, she said.

Daniel and Mulder had gotten back about 20 minutes earlier, slipping
quietly through the back door.

Hey, I don't ask and my brother doesn't tell, okay?

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but when I heard my own name, it caught
my attention and I turned to see what was up. Daniel and Mulder were
standing by the front door. I still didn't get what was wrong -- but
then, I can be as dense as a sea fog in January.

"Fox, are you sure you wouldn't rather I took Jim and Jill back to
Baltimore with me?" Daniel was saying in an undertone. "I feel kind of
funny about staying when you're not here."

"Now who's acting like a guest?" Mulder said as he adjusted the collar
of his leather jacket. "This is your home as much as mine, Daniel. You
ought to know that by now."

Daniel smiled. "You know," he said, "knowing that you remember every
word I say scares the hell out of me sometimes."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Mulder said, smiling back.

I don't know how to describe what happened next. Mulder raised his
hand, then stopped -- almost froze, really -- and clapped Daniel on
the shoulder, awkwardly, as though he didn't do it very often.

"I'll see you when I get back," he said, but he wasn't smiling any
more. He looked ... kind of sad, I guess.

"Yeah, sure," Daniel said, but he wasn't smiling anymore either. They
both seemed pretty tense, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out
why.

If didn't have shit for brains, I would have realized what was
happening here, but I was clueless. It didn't register at all that
they hadn't been touching each other or acting the way a couple in
love usually does. Why would I notice? Guys don't normally hold hands
or shit like that, so from where I stood there just wasn't anything to
notice.

Well, Mrs. Reilly's little boy finally figured it out, but not until
Mulder was almost out the door. Daniel was just standing there, his
hands hanging at his sides, looking unhappier than I'd seen him in a
long time. I think he was just going to walk away, but then he stopped
and looked quickly over his shoulder -- at me.

A second later, he'd made up his mind. "Fox," he said quietly, turning
his back on me.

Mulder turned back toward him. "Yeah?" he said.

Without another word, Daniel stepped forward, put his hand on the back
of Mulder's head and kissed him. It wasn't a dry little peck, either;
it was a real kiss, full on the mouth, the kind you give someone you
love when you need to make damn sure they know it.

"Be careful, okay?" Daniel said, and I may be stupid but I'm not
stupid enough to misinterpret that tone -- he was worried. Really
worried.

"I'm always careful," Mulder said, very calmly, but he looked grateful
as hell. And he was holding Daniel's hand.

"Tell it to the Marines, G-man, the sailors won't believe it," Daniel
said, as he brushed the hair back from Mulder's forehead with his free
hand.

Shit. I knew I was staring, but Jesus, I was too goddamned shocked to
do anything else.

Yeah, I know -- I should be more open-minded. Well, I am open-minded,
okay? I didn't say I thought it was wrong -- I just said it was a
shock. I'd never seen two men kiss before.

Now I had -- and one of those men was my big brother.

And I was stunned. Hell, I wanted to cry, if you want to know the
truth, although I haven't cried since I was 11. But I sure as shit
felt like it then -- just maybe not for the reason you'd think.

Right now, though, it didn't really matter what _I_ felt like -- it
was pretty damn obvious that Daniel and his boyfriend had things to
say to each other, and they sure as hell didn't need me around.

As quietly as I could, I got up from my chair and headed down the hall
to the den, which is where I was supposed to sleep -- on the sofa, but
that was okay with me. A sofa's got a shitload more room than you get
aboard a submarine, I can tell you.

I flopped down on the sofa with my hands under my head, and I started
to do some very serious thinking.

Yeah, yeah, I know -- all that unaccustomed activity can be bad for
you. Look, do you want to know what I was thinking about or not?

Okay, then. I was thinking how many other times in an average day
Daniel had to muster all his courage just to do some simple thing that
the rest of us take for granted -- like kissing someone goodbye, or
just putting on his uniform and reporting for duty every day, in spite
of how much he stands to lose.

It was something to think about, all right.

A slight noise got my attention, and I looked up. Daniel was standing
in front of me, looking at me with an expression I really couldn't
define.

"I'm sorry, Jim," he said, and I couldn't believe how ashamed he
sounded. "I'm sure you never wanted to see anything like that."

Ashamed? What the fuck was that all about? Jesus H. Christ on a
jumped-up pogo stick -- Daniel didn't have a goddamn thing to be
ashamed of, and fuck anybody who thought he did. Fuck _anybody_ who
made my brother think that he'd forfeited my good opinion when he
kissed the man he loves.

Shit. I guess it was me that made him feel that way, when I got up and
left. It wasn't for the reason he thought, but Daniel's no more a
mind-reader than I am.

I was going to have to tell him how I felt, and that's hard for me --
I don't have Daniel's guts. But I had to wipe that look off his face.

"You know something, big brother?" I said, cringing when I heard how
thick my voice was. Oh, fuck. I did not feel like blubbering right
now, but I was pretty goddamn close.

"What?" Daniel said, more quietly.

"You," I said, then I had to clear my throat before I could go on,
"are one brave son of a bitch."

He gave me a peculiar look then -- I think he thought at first that I
was mocking him. But then he looked away, fast, and I knew he'd
figured out that I wasn't kidding at all, and he was embarrassed. He
just didn't know how to take it.

Shit, I wouldn't have either. I mean, who the hell ever tells his
brother how he really feels about him?

He got hold of himself, though. He always does.

And then he smiled. "You are such a twerp," he said, in that half-
affectionate, half-scornful tone that all big brothers use in speaking
to kid brothers.

"Takes one to know one," I said, with my brattiest smirk. And I stuck
out my tongue.

Daniel laughed. "Goodnight, Jim," he said, and he started to walk
away, down the hall to the master bedroom -- alone.

I started to make some smartass remark or another, keep the kid
brother crap going just a little longer, try to cheer him up, but I
guess my guardian angel must have tapped me on the shoulder. That's
not what he needs, the little voice said. No more jokes. He knows you
still love him: Now he needs to know that you still respect him.

Well, shit, that was easy. I spent four years at the Academy learning
how to show respect for an officer senior to me. I got to my feet
and put my hands behind my back.

"Goodnight, sir," I said, in my most polite tone.

And Daniel stopped dead in his tracks. I waited, not moving until he
turned and looked at me.

"As you were," he said quietly, and without another word, he went on
his way.

I lay back down, feeling immensely satisfied.

He got the message.




END "The Seventh Side of the Triangle" (3/13)
by Susan Jameson (DrBarnBarn@aol.com)