In My Life (PG)

Original Summary

Mulder celebrates life with Scully on a very special day.

Original Author Notes

My last two stories hit the high end of the angst scale, so I'm trying to let our heroes share a happy moment here, with just a teeny bit of angst. (I can't help it, it just comes out!) From Arcadia's date, it can be deduced that the X-Files were reassigned to M&S prior to their 7th anniversary. And yes, sometimes it is the guy who remembers the anniversaries! (My hubby most likely won't be reading this, but this story is dedicated to him for always remembering.)

For those who have followed me through my previous two stories, the trilogy is complete! Crossing Lines established a new future for M & S, Reparation saw them deal with their first crisis, and now In My Life is a confirmation of their willingness to go the distance.

Therefore, to paraphrase Fox Mulder (from Dreamland I): "My work here is done." :D

Back Story

Was driving up to a mountain resort town for a conference when I happened to notice the date and was thus inspired to write Mulder and Scully an anniversary story. This one took about a month to whip into shape, although I was not working steadily on it. At the time that I finished, I was of the impression that my foray into fanfic was basically done, having sent M&S on their way, so to speak.

This, of course, takes place on the weekend of March 6, 1999.

ATXC Original Posting: April 1999
Second Posting: March 2000

* * * * *

Fox Mulder stared at the calendar in his hands, his eyes fixed on a certain date that he had surreptitiously circled so lightly in pencil that it was barely noticeable. Yes, he was renowned for his memory, but it didn't mean that certain dates didn't sometimes slip right by him. He had missed the event enough times in the past, although not because he had actually forgotten. At least a couple of times it was because he really didn't know how to bring it up, silly as it sounded. It never ceased to amaze him how the most mundane things had often proved to be the most difficult to address with Dana Scully.

But things had improved. Improved immensely, to be honest. The thought made him smile, really smile. Without question, he had been a lot happier over the past half year — definitely less morose. People that he only occasionally came into contact with at the Bureau had even commented on it, embarrassing as it was. But he had to admit that with the exception of the big fiasco that took away and then gave them back the X-Files, life was pretty livable at the moment. And he didn't need to be too 'brainful' to identify the reason behind his new outlook on life: Scully. Everything was Scully.

Everything had always been Scully, but in the past, he had spent most of his spare hours trying to reason with his feelings. He allowed himself the pleasure of loving her from a distance, but he had drilled it into his brain that she should never have to "suffer" from it. It didn't escape him that the results of his efforts were mixed at best. In his crusade to save her from himself, he had managed to make her suffer all the same. It was just that he had always figured that hurting her in that way was preferable to the inevitable hurt that she would be faced with in any other kind of relationship with him.

When the proverbial push came to shove, however, Mulder couldn't fight it anymore. A brief moment in his hallway — a moment forever frozen in time in the minds of two partners who had given each other their all over a period of six years — and everything turned upside down. Try as they might, they couldn't let this one go unnoticed like they had done with virtually every other hormonal moment in their past. It hadn't been easy to strip away all pretensions and face each other with simple naked emotion. But the both of them had managed to come to the mutual conclusion that to ignore what had happened would not only be impossible, but ultimately detrimental to their partnership. So they decided to take things slowly and let the pieces fall into place naturally. As Scully had termed it, "time to be normal".

They laid down some ground rules regarding how to proceed, making a pact that work would always remain work. That was particularly important now that their work had returned to normal on the X-Files, where circumstances often conveniently landed them in some motel at some remote location. Mulder smiled again as he thought back to the past week when they had "played house" in an undercover assignment in California. He was sure he had turned a noticeable shade of red when Skinner first told them of the case and what it would involve. As it turned out, however, he had enjoyed the opportunity to tease Scully every chance he got, knowing full well that she was obligated to spurn him in return. Lord knew he would only be one tenth as cocky if he ever thought she would take him up on his offers.

Their only concession to the burgeoning relationship was a series of regular Friday night "dates". They were always casual occasions in casual places: neighborhood diners or coffee shops, his place, her place; intentionally staying away from anything formal or fancy. They would spend the evening talking about everything but work. It had been a surprisingly daunting task for the both of them at first, but Mulder knew that even Scully — forever the consummate reserved professional — had warmed up to it in grand fashion.

He closed his eyes briefly and leaned his head back, the calendar still in his hands. A practiced ease between the two of them had been renewed ever since their weekly get togethers began. The pain that had almost taken up permanent residence in his soul last year — the same pain that had caused him to lash out even at Scully on occasion — had dissipated considerably. He couldn't quite put it into words, but he felt safe. Grounded. Calm. For the first time in his life, he knew and understood that Dana Scully wasn't about to leave him.

He opened his eyes at the sound of someone speaking. No mistaking that voice. It was real and in the same room with him.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" Good God, how did she just come into the office without him hearing? In response, he managed to look surprisingly guilty for someone who wasn't doing anything.

"What do you mean?"

She tilted her head to one side and gave him an all too familiar how-can-I-make-this-any-clearer look.

"I mean, I wasn't doing anything." He smiled broadly at her.

"Technically, no, you weren't doing anything but you had your eyes closed and a goofy look on your face. And you didn't even hear me open the door." She stood in front of his desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sorry, but I gotta enjoy my goofy moments when I get them. I guess I was just really thinking, Scully."

She nodded and sat down in the chair facing his desk. "Sure, fine."

"Whatever," Mulder added, pushing back in his chair and setting his feet up on the desk. It suddenly struck Scully as an endearing pose, one that she hadn't seen for a long time, particularly in this office. Her expression softened considerably as she managed a small smile at the look he was giving her. "So Scully, what are you doing this Saturday?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Saturday?"

"Yeah, you know, the day after Friday. Which is the day after tomorrow."

"Well, I don't want to commit myself one way or the other, Mulder; what did you have in mind?"

He seemed not to take her teasing in the right way, despite his having initiated the whole tone. "If you have plans, it doesn't have to be Saturday."

"God, Mulder, am I that dry and humorless? I was joking. What did you have in mind? Are we rescheduling Friday or something?"

"Friday?"

"You know, Friday: the day after Thursday. Tomorrow."

Mulder looked at her and then down at the calendar he was holding in his hands. He seemed temporarily lost in his thoughts, almost confused. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I would like to do that, if you don't mind."

Scully's eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "Like that doesn't sound like a decision you made right this second, Mulder."

"Well, yes and no. I mean, I have a few things that I have to get ready and I didn't realize that..." His voice dropped off.

"That what? That Saturday came after Friday?"

"Something like that."

"Are you going to let me in on what this is all about, Mulder?" When he hesitated in answering, she noticed that he was fidgeting with a small desk calendar. "What's with the calendar?"

"Do you know what this Saturday is, Scully?"

She looked at her watch in response. Today was the 4th, so Saturday would be the 6th. The 6th of March. March 6th. As in March 6th, 1992. Everything stopped suddenly in Scully's world as she realized what her partner was drawing to her attention. Before she realized it, she had uttered his name in a surprisingly tremulous and tender voice, "Mulder..." Her eyes were moist by the time they looked up at him in surprise.

"Aw, Scully, don't — it's supposed to be a happy occasion. At least, I think it is." He dropped the calendar and reached an arm out for her as he hurriedly made his way around the desk to her side.

She recovered quickly, patted the hand he placed around her shoulder and smiled up at him, "Of course it is. I just, I can't believe I didn't think of it myself...and, and to have you remember it..."

"What, am I not capable?"

"Well, you never have before."

"Things change. It was never easy before. Hell, it wasn't easy just now!"

"That part I don't understand, Mulder. Why would it be so hard for you to tell me that it's our seventh anniversary this Saturday?"

He turned to look at her directly before paraphrasing his previous answer. "Because things have changed." And immediately, Scully knew what he meant.

* * * * *

Mulder had known that he wasn't going to find a suitable card even before he headed into his first card shop of the night. He had now been to four stores and the cards were beginning to repeat themselves. Even the specialty shop he had just ventured into left him empty-handed. And he wasn't quite ready yet to contemplate the thought of having to compose a personal note for the occasion. Still, he couldn't spend the rest of his evening running around card shopping. He had to go home and plan his "presentation" to Scully.

He walked back to his parked car and got in, unconsciously slipping his hand into his jacket pocket and fingering a small object that he had been carrying around with him all night. About two weeks ago, it was the subject of a rather unsettling dream that had awakened him in a huge sweat. It was actually the dream that reminded him of where he had hidden this thing a few years ago. It was something that he had meant to hold for her, to be presented at the right moment. Needless to say, there hadn't been too many right moments in their lives, and over time, Mulder had basically forgotten about it...

* * * * *

It was November of 1994. Almost three months to the day after Scully had been taken from her apartment, she had mysteriously reappeared at Northeast Georgetown Medical Center, looking like death warmed over. The object of what could only be imagined as hideous experiments, she had been cast off to die, but not in some remote place where it may have gone unnoticed. She was cast off to die right under his nose, so that he could suffer from the knowledge that her demise was ultimately his doing, that her involvement with him was what had resulted in this outcome.

It didn't take two minutes after Mulder had been dragged off by hospital security staff that day for him to duck into the nearest bathroom and empty the contents of his stomach in a gut-wrenching vomit. He hadn't heard the diagnosis yet, but somehow he knew that she had suffered a fate worse than death. For a few moments, that seemed even worse than having her be missing.

It was later that same day that he found an attractive young woman standing at his partner's bedside, dangling a small piece of crystal over her still form. At Mrs. Scully's appearance, he learned that she was Scully's sister. Nothing like his Scully, this Melissa. No, that wasn't really true. They had shared a strength and passion that he envied to this day, even though their belief systems were obviously different. He himself had been too overcome with grief and guilt to accept any of the unconventional faiths that Melissa was expounding. Despite Fox Mulder's predilection for "extreme possibilities", this was one time when reality mocked him for even thinking about it.

In the months that passed after Scully's recovery, Mulder could not bring himself to talk to her about the period of time during which she was missing, or when she was in the hospital. He could tell she wanted to know, and had obviously been told just enough by her mother that she was curious. It wasn't an intentional desire to hide anything from her; it was just his way of healing. A dark place, Melissa had said. He had been in a dark place for three months, reliving her phone call to him every night in his sleep. If it hadn't been for regular contact with Mrs. Scully — and having to extend a certain amount of hope to the woman whom he had come to love like a mother — he didn't know what would have happened. Obviously, Scully knew of his closeness with her mother. He wasn't sure, however, if she had ever learned of a similar, albeit shorter, association with her sister.

He drove to the hospital on autopilot that night, after deciding — or having been indirectly convinced — that revenge wasn't going to resolve anything. When he reached his destination, he found Melissa sitting at Scully's bedside.

"I'm glad you came." Melissa obviously wasn't the sort to dwell on past moments. Either that or she was just extremely understanding. No mention would have been made of their earlier conversation at his apartment if he hadn't brought it up himself.

"You're right. I owe her this much."

"It's not really a matter of owing, Mulder. It's a matter of living with yourself, regardless of what the outcome might be. And if, in the meantime, whatever forces in the universe conspire to bring her back to us..." Her voice trailed off, and she threw up her left hand in despair. The crystal that she had been carrying flew over Scully's prone form. Mulder managed to catch it before it fell to the floor.

He turned the object over in his hands, examining the way it was catching the dim light of the room.

"Dana thinks it's silly too," she replied to his unvoiced question.

He looked up at her, his expression softening just a touch. "I guess, at times like this, we really shouldn't be arguing over what's silly. We have to believe in something."

"What do you believe in, Mulder?"

There was a long pause before he answered, a long moment in which he desperately tried to summon up some memory of any support system from his past that he could hold onto. He couldn't think of anything and finally just stated resolutely, "I believe that this is not her time."

Melissa got up from the chair and walked around the bed. She patted Mulder's arm as she passed him. "I'm gonna go see how Mom's doing, maybe have a lie down. Are you staying for awhile?"

"I'll stay with her through the night. You two probably haven't really slept. I'll come get you if there's any change."

"Thanks."

"No...no, thank you." Their eyes met in knowing acceptance and she smiled at him. "Wait a minute, your — " He held up the crystal that he still held in his hand.

"Keep it. It can't hurt, right?"

Melissa eventually returned around five in the morning to find him asleep in the chair beside Scully. After his first refusal to leave, they sat and talked for the next couple of hours until exhaustion finally overtook him and he headed for home at around eight.

When he arrived back at his apartment, he discovered that his visitors had made no secret of the fact that they had indeed come and gone. He remembered collapsing in the doorway to his living room and weeping uncontrollably for what seemed like hours before eventually waking up in the early afternoon, still curled up on the floor.

He found the crystal in his jacket pocket a few days after Scully awoke. He put it away for safekeeping during the subsequent cleanup efforts at his apartment. Not a year later, after Melissa was fatally gunned down, Mulder had entertained the idea of giving it to Scully. He couldn't immediately locate the thing at the time, however, and the right moment soon passed.

* * * * *

Mulder put down his cup of coffee and picked up his pen again. Early morning shoppers milled about the food court, creating a steady hum of noise that wasn't helping his concentration as he balled up one napkin after another. He had a breakthrough last night regarding his card problem, when he came across a picture of her that he had obviously taken on their first case together in Oregon seven years ago. It was a very different Dana Scully, longer hair made straggly by a horrendous downpour, looking for all the world like an innocent twenty-year-old about to learn the mysteries of life. He realized then that he had found his "card". So early in the morning, he had come out to join the Saturday morning shopping mall crazies and purchased a picture-holder card. He now sat on the outskirts of the food court, nursing a cup of coffee as he tried to compose just the right message to acknowledge seven years together.

He wasn't interested in creating a mushy message, but he did want something honest and personal. He had toyed briefly with the idea of a poem but decided that it wasn't the right occasion. After all, he hadn't done it for her birthday and a working anniversary certainly seemed like less of a reason to do so.

He flipped the card over to stare at her picture once again. He seemed to hear himself speaking to it and hurriedly grabbed another napkin to capture the words in his mind. Within seconds, he was transcribing the words onto the inside of the card.

* * * * *

Dana Scully sat at her kitchen table, staring at the speckles of dust dancing in the sunlight that streamed in from her window. Her Saturday newspaper was open but unread in front of her. A freshly brewed cup of coffee sat by her side. It was the first Saturday in a while that she hadn't slept in until ten o'clock. Normally an early riser even on weekends, their recent Friday night talks had been running rather late, making it a bit of an effort to get up early the next morning. It was now nine, but she wasn't expected over at Mulder's for another two hours.

A part of her still couldn't believe that her partner had undertaken to commemorate this event. And how could seven years actually pass so quickly? Her brow furrowed as she thought about it in greater detail. Seven years was precisely one fifth of her life. One fifth of her life had been spent by the side of this unique individual named Fox Mulder. A man she was now irrevocably entwined with, unable to shake — physically, emotionally and psychologically. Whether she liked it or not, he was as much a part of her as the very air that she breathed.

Their recent decision to explore possibilities for the future had changed a lot between them, bringing about new and different challenges. There were so many things about relationships that seemed paradoxical. Neither one of them could boast of any extensive experience in that area, so misunderstandings — while fewer — still occurred. On occasion, it was difficult to separate work from "not work", despite the best of intentions. It was sometimes not a good thing that they both possessed inherently strong personalities. In the past, it hadn't been an issue to speak their minds. Now, occasionally, she felt one or the other hesitate to do so. Or, worse yet, they would disagree and then not know how to assimilate that disagreement into their private lives.

Through painful lessons, they had learned that it was worth the effort to make amends. Both of them were extremely protective of their existing partnership and the good things that had brought them to this point in their lives. They occasionally had to remind themselves that their relationship already had a solid foundation that couldn't be destroyed by a cross word or misunderstanding here and there. It wasn't their intention to get this far only to be derailed by relatively trivial matters. But they were, as the saying goes, only human. And as she had told him many months ago, "If I didn't care about you, nothing you feel would have any impact on me."

Scully smiled to herself as she took a sip of her coffee. She remembered asking her mother how she seemed to make it appear so effortless to get along with her father. Her mother had surprised her by answering that it was never effortless. A successful relationship always entailed a great deal of hard work. It was merely a matter of picking and choosing the right battles, getting past the stuff that wasn't important, and always keeping in mind that you love this person....

She had talked to her mother just last night. Shortly after Christmas last year, Scully had confided in her mother about the new developments between her and Mulder. Therefore, these days, the second thing to come out of Margaret Scully's mouth upon hearing from her daughter was, "How's Fox?"

"He's fine, Mom. We're both fine. Things are going well."

"You know, you might want to suggest maybe coming over for supper some evening, Dana. What is he doing for Easter?"

"I'll mention it to him. But we seem to be sort of cautious when it comes to spending major holidays together."

"That's nonsense."

"I know. Small steps, Mom."

"Well, nothing like you young people today making things more complicated than they need to be."

"Yeah, I guess so. But every once in awhile he surprises me just the same..."

* * * * *

Scully walked off the elevator and headed down the hall, just as she had done hundreds of times before. As was usual these days whenever he was expecting her, Mulder had left the door to his apartment wide open. She stepped through and closed the door behind her, following the noises she heard coming from the living room. Peering in, Scully couldn't stop an ear-to-ear grin from spreading across her face at the sight before her. Fox Mulder — wearing his sexy glasses, no less — was kneeling on the floor in front of a tray full of slides. A slide projector sat on his coffee table. It felt like a strange case of time travel, back to 1992, with the details not quite right. They had been in his office then. He'd been sitting down and dressed more formally, examining slides over a lit surface, and....and she could almost feel the same electricity humming through her as she did that day when he shook her hand. She remembered thinking, "God, I didn't know Spooky was so attractive". She remembered all of it like it was just last week. But she couldn't quite identify the sensation that was enveloping her entire body right this minute, however. It was an odd feeling of liquid warmth, one that also succeeded in making her shiver. Luckily he was too preoccupied to notice.

"Mulder...did you steal that from work?"

He looked up at her, gracing her entrance with a matching grin.

"'Steal'? That's such a harsh word, Scully. I borrowed it."

"I must admit, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing one of your slide shows in a long time. Not since your vampired cows, I believe." She stopped short in the midst of sitting herself down and looked up suspiciously, adding, "Although, I'm almost afraid to ask what the subject matter might be, since we're not at the office."

"Ah, Scully, if I wanted to show you something naughty, I wouldn't necessarily have to be away from the office." Devilish grin now.

"No, no, you wouldn't. I remember what's in that bottom drawer."

"That's not what I meant, but anyway..." Mulder seriously enjoyed making her blush these days. He didn't even have to look up to know that she was. It was not something he had been particularly successful with in the past, but recently, he discovered that it was a new power that he had over his partner.

She, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly frustrated by her erosion of biological control over such matters.

Mulder finished arranging his slides and snapped the tray into place. "There. We're ready to take a walk down memory lane. But first..." He reached under the coffee table and retrieved a small box. It suddenly occurred to him that it bore a suspicious resemblance to a ring box. Realizing that he was still on his knees, his brain registered what the entire scene was starting to look like and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Mulder, what is this?"

"Well, when someone gives you something wrapped in a box, you usually open it to find out."

"You made a point yesterday of saying that this wasn't a gift exchanging occasion," she protested. She didn't want a gift from him — especially not in a small box — if she didn't have something for him in return.

"I know. But this isn't a gift, really."

"It's just wrapped up to look like one?"

"Seriously, Scully. I didn't go out and buy this. It's something I've been holding for you. Something that I think is really yours."

Intrigued, Scully quickly tore off the wrapping on the box and opened it. A crystal.

"Mulder, is this some sort of running joke?" Her voice couldn't hide a slight tone of annoyance.

He looked truly confused and mildly hurt. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Last week? Crystals, UFO conference, where 'Rob' and 'Laura' supposedly 'met'?"

"Oh, God, Scully, no." He sat down at the end of the coffee table, careful not to disturb the projector. He removed his glasses and faced her, speaking very slowly and clearly, "I knew another Scully woman who was into crystals and stuff like that."

Her eyes immediately dropped from his face to stare at the contents of the small box. "Melissa..."

"She told me that if you look into it the right way, you can see forever." Which was the reason he felt it appropriate to return it to her on this occasion.

Scully slowly picked up the crystal, holding it up to the sunlight. Somehow, she knew exactly where this came from, the time it came from. She took a deep breath and started to speak from some far off place. Words and impressions that had been formed long ago, but unvoiced.

"Shortly after I came to, I asked about you. I remember Missy looking at Mom and Mom looking back at her and they really didn't say anything for a moment. I panicked. I — I had just found out the amount of time that had passed and for a second, I had this horrified thought about what might have happened to you. I remember sitting up suddenly and demanding to know where you were. That's when Missy said that it was probably because of you that I had awakened. She said that you were so positive that I wasn't gone from this world that you must have brought me back by sheer force of will." Their eyes met and they were both surprised by the range of emotions that lay bare in them.

"God, Scully, she was attributing something to me that just wasn't there. I was a basket case. I certainly wanted you to come back to us, but basically they were the beliefs of a madman at the time." He spoke quietly, not wanting to go too far back into this particular memory with her.

"I don't know, Mulder. Missy said that she couldn't understand what your belief system was based on, but that it must have given me strength to continue."

"'I had the strength of your beliefs'," he whispered as his memory kicked in.

"Didn't you ever wonder why I said that?"

"I — I don't know. Somehow it didn't really matter. You were back."

"How did you come to have this? I mean, obviously Melissa gave it to you...?"

"As part of her efforts to save me." He felt his thoughts turn elsewhere, but for his sake as well as for hers, he didn't express it. There was no point. The both of them had always had difficulty absolving themselves of blame when it came to Melissa's death. If he beat himself up over it, he would be doing the same to Scully.

"What do you mean?"

"I was a ticking bomb about to go off. Our friend Mr. X had given me information about the people who had done this to you. I was essentially waiting to assault them or die trying when Melissa came over to tell me that you had taken a turn for the worse. I was so screwed up I basically told her I had more important things to do. She let me have it. And I ended up by your bedside for the night instead." Mulder reached out to take the crystal from her hand. Staring deep into its multi-faceted interior, he continued, "When I first ran into her, she was dangling this over you. Within seconds I think I had brushed her off with some idiotic comment about her new age leanings."

"I did that to her all the time." Their eyes connected with a seemingly identical thought, followed by a mutual reassurance.

"Anyway, as she left me that evening, she told me to keep it. Said it couldn't hurt. Scully, if it hadn't been for her that day, I'm sure I would have been killed."

Scully didn't want to think about that possibility. She had a hard enough time with Mulder leaping into dangerous situations on a regular basis without considering outcomes that might have been. She changed the subject slightly.

"She liked you, you know."

"God knows why." Mulder laughed weakly, handing the crystal back to her.

"What are you saying? I like you."

"You know, Scully, the truth is, you wouldn't like the person I become whenever you're in danger." They shared another significant look, their own brand of unspoken communication speaking volumes.

"I remember her saying that... your single-mindedness was a powerful force to contend with, but that you were disarmingly vulnerable at the same time. Somewhat like a lost little boy successfully masquerading as a sophisticated G-Man." Scully thought back to a rather lengthy conversation she had had with Melissa while she was still in the hospital. Missy had been quite curious about her and Mulder's relationship. Despite Dana's insistence that nothing was going on, Melissa couldn't help but push for more — after all, what would possess a simple partner to act the way Mulder had acted?

"If she used those words, she was remarkably kind."

"Did you..." Scully's voice trailed off, suddenly uncertain and almost shy.

"Did I what?"

"Did you ever feel any kind of connection with her? I mean, I always thought you two, you know..." Scully seemed uncharacteristically stuck for words.

"No. I mean, I don't know. What exactly do you mean?"

"I always thought... that you guys would have been a good match." Her revelation came quietly, her eyes on the crystal, avoiding direct contact with his.

"So why did you never set us up?" Mulder deadpanned, enjoying her discomfort. "Could it be that you knew even then that you had the hots for me?"

"You're really horrible, you know, Mulder."

"Sorry. All kidding aside, Melissa and I got along fine once I crawled out of my hole and gave her a chance. She had her own brand of Scully mystique that... yeah, in other circumstances, I may have been attracted to." With a mischievous look that she had never seen before, he added, "Same with your mom."

Mulder ducked to avoid a flying cushion launched from Scully's general direction.

"I'm not trying to avoid talking about this, Scully, I want you to know that." He sighed, turning serious as the smallest hint of a frown settled on his face. "I know you're curious about those months and I can only guess that your mother has been about as forthcoming as I've been. But I think you can understand how difficult it is for us to go back to that time and — "

"I do understand. I can't imagine what it would have felt like to go through even two weeks of that. Mulder, believe me, it's not that I'm morbid or anything. But I'm missing that piece of my life, and I feel like even those who are close to me have been unable to share with me their lives from that time."

Mulder let out a shuddering breath as he replied softly, "I never thought of it that way."

Knowing him better than he knew himself, she backtracked a little as she anticipated his change in tone. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair."

"No, no, you're perfectly within your rights to want to talk about it," he said softly, an unspoken promise in his voice. "I'll make you a deal, okay?"

"What's that?"

"Let's take this up the next time we meet. Today, well, today is mostly for happy memories of the past seven years. We do have some, right?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Well, I gather from this," she said, gesturing over the coffee table, "that you've found them."

"Yes. We've amassed quite an eclectic collection of memories in our time with the X-Files, Agent Scully. If you'll make yourself comfortable, we can get the show started."

She got up to go into the front room. At the doorway, she stopped and turned back towards him. "Mulder..."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for this." She indicated the crystal. "I don't have a lot to remember her by from that period in her life, and well... thanks."

"You're welcome, Scully."

They stood and stared at each other. Further words were unnecessary. It was obvious that each was conjuring up memories of a certain vivacious redhead whose life had been needlessly cut short. Scully broke eye contact when she turned to slip off her jacket. Before hanging it over the back of one of Mulder's chairs, she took something out of her pocket. He watched her as she walked back into the living room. Pointing to what she held in her hand, he asked, "Is that for me?"

"Yeah. I thought a card would be appropriate, considering we've never..." She stopped speaking as Mulder reached around the end of the couch and produced a white envelope.

He handed it over to her, taking the one she carried in the process. "You first."

Moving in smooth unison, they both sat down.

Scully took the card and looked at him for a long moment. Her hands were shaking ever so slightly. She looked at the front of the envelope, noting Mulder's familiar scrawl: "Happy 7th" was the simple message. It wasn't as if she was expecting anything earth-shattering to be revealed by the card. In fact, whatever message it might contain, she was sure that she likely had the same thoughts in her card to him, more or less. But there was no denying that it was a significant step for them to sit down and actually celebrate the passing of another year of working together.

"Are you going to open it or what?"

She was startled out of her reverie by Mulder's teasing inquiry.

"I mean, if you're preparing yourself for a gift of money in there or something, you're going to be awfully disappointed."

"Just let me do this my own way, Mulder."

The envelope wasn't sealed. She lifted the flap out with her fingertip and carefully removed the card. He wasn't sure what to make of her expression when she saw her likeness on the front, but she didn't seem annoyed at his choice, which was comforting.

"God, it's hard to believe that this was ever me," she whispered, almost wistfully. This was the "pre-everything" Dana Scully. The Dana Scully who had accepted an assignment to keep Fox Mulder on a scientific leash. The Dana Scully who — on her first case with the same Fox Mulder — had immediately decided that he was a passionate, truth-seeking soul with whom she had a definite "connection". Maybe opposites do attract.

As she continued to stare at the picture, lost in her thoughts, Mulder had to know. "Do you miss her?"

She looked up at him, almost as though she had forgotten that he was there. "No, apart from the ways that we all sometimes miss the days of innocence." She gave him a slight smile and opened the card. More Mulder scrawl. Her eyebrows raised ever so slightly at the salutation of the message. Not "Scully", but...

Dana:

As I look back on the past seven years, it is with sadness that I realize that the girl in this picture no longer exists as she did back then. But it is also with hope that I realize nothing ever really stays the same and yet with each passing year, there has been a comforting strength and constancy in our partnership. Thank you for the difference you've made in my life. Looking forward to the next seven.

Mulder

Mulder knew that Scully was a fast reader. He was no slouch himself and had long ago attributed that common trait to the fact that they both likely had a lot of reading to do during their academic years. But here she was either reading the message repeatedly or she was simply not looking up. Scully knew precisely when to put his mind at ease, however. At the sound of him shifting in his seat, she murmured, "You've got quite a way with words, Mulder. Another hidden talent?"

"Like what?"

"Well, since they're hidden, I wouldn't know." She finally looked up, carefully composed, but not so composed as to give the impression that she hadn't been affected by his message.

"By the way, that probably should have said, 'looking forward to the next seventy years', but I was being careful in case it fell into the wrong hands."

"In seventy years, Mulder, I'll be a hundred and five."

"I guess that means you'll have to give up running around with a lunatic like me."

"You'll be almost a hundred and eight."

"So? What's your point?"

Scully sat back and tucked her legs up under herself, an introspective expression settling over her face. "Is this how you imagined life would be, seven years ago?"

Mulder looked around his apartment. "Not like this. I thought I would have found Samantha by now, for one." At seeing Scully stiffen slightly, he waved a hand at her. "But I also thought I'd be a lone wolf forever, too. I couldn't have imagined — wouldn't have dared imagine — someone like you entering my life and actually wanting to stay for such a long time." Scully was watching him silently, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mulder did not disappoint, despite his fundamental fear in asking. "How about you?"

"I don't think I've ever had any preconceived notions about what my life would be like or should be like. It's not my way to dream about such things. But I definitely thought that the X-Files was going to be just another stop along the way, one of many assignments that would be given to me at the FBI. So in that sense, whatever I imagined life to be, this isn't it. But on the other hand, whenever I think back to the day that I met with Blevins about this assignment.... Mulder, I don't even want to know what my life would have been if I hadn't taken this journey with you."

For either of them to say honestly that they didn't regret certain things in their past would have been a lie. It was still a regular weekly task for Mulder to move beyond those times and not to embrace the blame for them. But perhaps for the first time in his life, he accepted reality for what it was; accepted the truth as Scully saw it. She had never denied that they had both paid the price on several occasions. But she was also telling him very plainly that life with him was still an experience not to have been missed. His ability to take that message for what it was — without stringing along extra ifs, ands or buts — was clearly a result of the healing that had taken place within him over the past several months. Thank you, Dr. Scully.

He looked at her in partial wonderment, partial enlightenment. The ravages of the past seven years didn't seem to be the least bit evident on his face today. For a second, he appeared to be almost as young as the man she had met all those years ago. Leaning towards her, he spoke softly, "Despite everything, Scully, we're really okay, aren't we?"

She reached over and squeezed his hand firmly, feeling her heart expand with the action. "Mulder, I think we're definitely more than okay."

* END *

Updated Author Notes (2008-2010)

I don’t remember how I came up with the idea to pair a partnership anniversary story with a “fill in the blanks” follow-up to One Breath. The latter is a beautiful and poignant episode that stands out in TXF history and doesn’t really need embellishment. From a fanfic writing standpoint, however, it had several segments in it that offered up wonderful opportunities to add more detail, so that was probably my impetus. The character of Melissa Scully was an interesting one; I always thought it unfortunate that the TXF creators apparently wanted to kill off as many family members of M&S as possible. (I mean, really, what other explanation could there be?)

Unlike CL and REPARATION, this was intended to be a “feel good” story. That goal was more or less achieved, I think, since it is mostly upbeat. The little bits of angst scattered throughout are limited to the characters’ recollections of past events. In revisiting this story, I was especially struck by Mulder’s flashback sequence to the time of One Breath. Obviously, I have a “thing” for MulderAngst and can’t get enough.

Overall, there are a few changes that I would make if I could, but nothing big. As my third release, IN MY LIFE was well-received by those who read it. When it was completed, I recall thinking that I was done with writing fanfic. Sort of had this idea of completing a tidy trilogy and then walking off into the sunset….