The end of the road finally arrives for Mulder and Scully.
Original Author Notes
This story was originally planned to be my swan song fic, but of course, with a season eight looming, now I'm not too sure. (I may be back, I may not; fortunately, I'm not DD so it doesn't matter!) In the spirit of what CC attempted at the end of season seven, this one is meant to complete my vision of what Mulder and Scully could/should be, regardless of whether I'm inspired to write any future stories. As usual, this takes place in the little world that I created in Crossing Lines; total timeframe covered is June through October 2000. (In my version of events, Requiem takes place in October; continuity be damned if CC and the boys decide differently.) By the way, the opening of this story picks up directly from the end of the "Prologue" portion of Truths Untold. (It's just a short little scene.)
In the fall of 1998, I put together my first fic, Crossing Lines, and in it are a couple of lines said by M&S that figured prominently in Requiem: the idea of "an end" and the concept of knowing when personal sacrifices are just not "worth it" anymore. That aspect of the season seven finale was so touching and appropriate that this would be a wonderful place for my personal foray into TXF fanfic to come to a close.
Back Story
As usual, episodes and situations within episodes that I really don't like finally pushed me back to the keyboard. I really hadn't been inspired to write anything for several months until all things happened. I didn't know what to make of the idea that so many people were thinking that M&S had had sex finally. The fact that this was then reinforced in Requiem made me start working on this story in earnest.
I had three goals in mind when I wrote this. Number one, I absolutely had to nip the all things scenario in the bud. Sorry, GA and CC (whichever one of you was responsible for that teaser to end all teasers), but I don't care if M&S have been doing it since hour one, they did not do it within the confines of this particular episode. I can't even begin to describe how much I disliked the character of Dana Scully in this hour, that to think that they would have chosen that weekend to consummate their relationship is despicable in the worst way. The idea absolutely gags me, therefore....
Goal number two was to give them a much better "first time". No matter what you think happened in all things, I have given them a better scenario here.
Goal number three was to treat all of this with some modicum of realism. Even if I hadn't been required to deal with the potential of "the sex thing" by happenings within the show itself, in my world, M&S are coming up on two years of slowly building a relationship. It was already getting long in the tooth for something not to happen, whether it be sleeping together or making life decisions after the fact. (And the last thing I wanted to be was a constant tease like CC.)
Believe it or not, this story was started in the fall of 1999. (The conversation between Scully and Mulder at "the bench" was mostly set up last September; with a few adjustments, I was able to use most of what I'd written all those months ago.) So considering it took me until June 2000 to finish, this one has been the longest story of mine in more ways than one!
By the way, the locale I describe in Jasper is specifically The Jasper Park Lodge. Breathtakingly beautiful and exquisitely romantic, the area is full of gorgeous blue-green lakes and wildlife that won't hesitate to get up close and personal with you. It's become pricey in recent years to stay there, but those of you with American bucks won't feel the pinch as much. It's definitely worth the effort to go for a visit if you're looking for a unique getaway.... And no, I don't work there, nor do I have any friends/relatives that do!
The main events of this story take place around September, 2000. The primary flashback sequence goes back to June and the series epilogue moves forward to October.
ATXC Original Posting: June 2000
* * * * *
[As this story features R-rated content, it is only reproduced in part here.]
The first scene here is a direct continuation of the
Prologue scene from Truths Untold
Jasper, Alberta
September 2000
The sound of the splash still echoing in the distance, a soft voice and a gentle touch came to him from behind.
"What was that, Mulder?"
He spun around quickly, dazed with the feeling that he had just briefly lost some time, and inexplicably guilty about the fact that she had probably been witness to it. Old habits die hard. Track two, side A, of Mulder & Scully's Greatest Hits collection....
"What was what?" He swept aside some twigs and leaves from the seat next to him and extended his arm in a welcoming gesture.
She rolled her eyes at him, maneuvering around the tree to join him on the colorfully painted wooden bench, one of many scattered along the shore surrounding the lake. Dressed in a white sleeveless tunic top over some matching walking shorts, she looked like a totally different person than the one that he usually encountered on a day to day basis. So much softer and relaxed. So much more so than he had ever imagined her capable of being, in all honesty. Why on earth hadn't he thought of taking her on a vacation sooner?
"You just threw something into the water," she whispered conspiratorially into his ear, edging close to him in the most "personal space invading" way she knew how. And she knew how very well, considering she had learned from a master over the years.
Leaning away from her slightly so he could look into her eyes, he replied dryly, "Aren't you up a little early for having stayed up so late, Scully?"
"Okay, so you don't want to tell me. Fine."
"No, it's just that I'm feeling a little ridiculous 'cause I don't actually recall doing it. I mean, I meant to do it, but..." At her puzzled and almost concerned look, he shrugged it off with a sheepish smile. "This fresh mountain air must be intoxicating, that's all. It was - a ritual I promised to perform."
"Promised who?"
"Myself. And someone else who once cared about me."
He looked off into the distance to where the object in question had pierced the surface of the water. Tell-tale concentric ripples were still radiating outwards from the area, growing larger and more undefined until they faded into the depths of the lake. She followed his gaze for several seconds before looking at his face, reading it perfectly. After all these months, it was still obvious whenever he thought about her.
"Diana?"
It struck him how, for the first time that he could figure, the name didn't stick in her throat in some way. Ever since they shared a somewhat heated "full disclosure" conversation a few months ago, Dana Scully had finally come to terms with Diana Fowley, laying her unfortunate rival to rest. In the meantime, the process had also allowed him to grieve properly. He finally came to some satisfactory understanding that Diana had been put into the position of not having many choices, to the point where she ultimately lost control over what her life had become. Strangely enough, it had been Scully who had convinced him that it was perfectly acceptable to have happy memories of their time together all those years ago. We are the sum total of all of our memories. If we arbitrarily cast any of them aside, even for what we think are noble reasons, we become less than what we're meant to be. Impromptu Dana Scully wisdom. Funny how things worked out.
"Yeah. When I finally caught up with her after all those months, I tried to give back the wedding band that she had left me with, but she wouldn't hear of it. I didn't tell you this part - and I know it sounds pretty pathetic - but I wore that ring the whole time she was gone."
Instinctively, she reached up to her throat and touched her necklace. "So there's precedent..."
"Well, no. Maybe, I don't know. When I wore this," he leaned over to slide his fingers underneath hers, tilting up the cross so that it reflected in the sunlight, "it was with the hope that it would act as some sort of beacon, to lead me back to you. On the other hand, it never entered my mind that wearing the ring would help me find Diana. It wasn't even like I was trying to find her. It was just that I wasn't quite ready to let go yet, to face a certain element of truth. I was a lot younger back then, Scully. Principled, but in a different way. Anyway, she told me to keep it so that I could perform some sort of ritual with it."
"What do you mean - or, what did she mean by that? What kind of ritual?"
"She told me - and these are her words, not mine - that when I finally find the woman who can love me the way I deserve to be loved, I should do something with it. You know, to mark the occasion."
"Like throwing it into a lake?"
"Like throwing it into a lake."
He looked into her eyes momentarily and then shifted his attention to the water lapping close by, marveling at the identical liquid blueness that he saw in both.
"Interesting concept. Seems an uncharacteristically magnanimous gesture for a woman in that situation, though."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, when she said it, it was with more than just a broad hint that it might eventually be her."
"And what? You didn't believe it could ever happen?"
"Not at the time. I told you that I didn't take her little disappearance as a betrayal, but it still affected me. It was something that couldn't be erased no matter how many times she said that she loved me. Diana was good at saying the words, you know; I heard them all the time. I just knew that whatever she had been involved in that had kept her away for six months - regardless of whether it had been for my own good, for my own protection, whatever - I just wasn't going to get over it that easily."
"And yet..."
"And yet, when I saw her a couple of years ago for the first time in almost a decade, why did I react the way I did?"
She dropped her head slightly, wondering if she would always be so transparent.
"I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to hurt some more."
In the brief spell of silence that followed, Scully thought back to that strange time in their lives, a little over two years ago, in the months after her cancer had gone into remission. Somehow it made perfect sense that Mulder gravitated towards Diana when he saw her again. It must have been a strange combination of wanting self-punishment and basic, fundamental escape. Who better to do that with than an old flame?
"Did you sleep with her?"
"I assume you mean within the past couple of years?"
She nodded, brushing off a leaf that had fallen into her lap, trying not to appear too solemn should the answer not be what she wanted to hear. He seemed to be taking his time in answering her, in any case.
"No.... Does that surprise you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, it does."
"I'm hurt." He was only joking, but he had to admit to being slightly disturbed by her implied assumption. "Why would you think I'd sleep with her?"
She had her reasons, but Scully knew that there were certain things that would never be shared, no matter how close two people were.
"Well, it wasn't like you and I were involved at the time."
"Scully, you and I have always been involved. From the moment we met. It would be a lie to try to deny that."
"So are you saying that you haven't slept with anyone in the entire time that we've known each other?"
"No, I'm not saying that."
The look on his face was an odd one indeed. She couldn't tell whether it was an attempt at a false bravado that dared her to ask further, or whether it was a plea not to do so. No matter, since she surely did not want to know any details. Just another one of those things that needn't be shared.
"Anyway... getting back to Diana, she threw herself at you enough times, and was obvious enough about it."
"Not to sound egotistical, Scully, but you've seen various other women throw themselves at me. I haven't slept with any of them either. Besides, you didn't exactly ask if I was tempted."
He punctuated his last word by flicking his fingers playfully at the buttons of her shirt. She swatted his hand away and decided to play along this time.
"Were you?"
"Were you tempted with Doctor Dan?"
"Do you recall the part about him being a cardiac patient?"
"That's got nothing to do with whether or not you were tempted, Scully."
"In that case, I'd prefer not to answer that." She was smiling as she said it.
"Oh? I'm the only one who gets to do the soul-baring thing this morning?"
"Indulge me, Mulder. I promise it'll be remembered and well paid for before the day is out."
"Oooh, well then... ask away, by all means."
He gave her such an exquisitely sweet smile that it made her heart swell. It almost made her want to swallow the question that she simply had to ask, now that the opportunity presented itself.
"Since you offered, I do have something else I'd like to clear up. Something that's been eating at me for almost a year now..."
"What is it?"
"When I was in New Mexico last October and I called you to see how you were doing - just before you were admitted to the hospital - Diana answered your phone. I'm positive it was her."
"Yeah, it might have been. I mean, it must have been. Yes. What about it?"
"I've never been able to figure out why you called her, how you thought she could possibly help you -"
"I never called her."
"Then why was she at your apartment?"
"I'm a little fuzzy about that entire time, but not so fuzzy that I don't remember how it started. I collapsed in the stairwell at the university and the next thing I knew, she was leaning over my face. She took me home."
"She said at the hospital the next day that you'd called for her."
"Well, Scully, obviously someone called for her. Highly unlikely that she was just passing by. All I'm saying is that it wasn't me."
Scully looked out to where Mulder's little "ritual" had entered the water and could no longer see any ripples to give away what had happened. Gone. That easily.
Unable to tear her eyes away from the water even though she felt Mulder's intense gaze on her, she asked quietly, "Is there any part of you that wishes that things could have turned out differently between you two?"
There was no hesitation this time, his response came so quickly as to be rehearsed.
"Specifically, yes; generally, no."
"That's very diplomatic."
She seemed very introspective, and suddenly Mulder wasn't quite sure what part of this conversation was mere satisfaction of morbid curiosity and what part might be something more. He decided that starting from this day forward, he didn't want to be guessing about those sorts of things any more.
"Tell me what you're thinking, Scully."
"I'm thinking about 'finding a woman who loves you the way you deserve to be loved'. Good words."
"I sense a 'but' waiting to be said."
"Well, the 'but' would be that... you surely deserve more than what I've put you through."
"We're not going there anymore, Scully. Right? Whatever our self-perceived shortcomings, we said that we're just gonna move forward and leave all that baggage behind us." Her expression was still tinged with uncertainty, although he could tell that she was trying to rid herself of all doubts. "Hey, I made that a condition of this trip. You weren't supposed to come along if you didn't agree. No regrets. The misunderstandings we had between us have been resolved. Resolved and buried, just like that ring I threw in there."
"If only 'resolved and buried' could mean 'simple and easy'."
"You know better than that. No matter what path we choose, simple and easy is not in the cards for us."
"I know."
"Hey, don't look so down. We're on holidays. Look at that sky - could you have asked for a better welcome on your first day?"
"After the welcome I got last night, I'd be quite greedy to expect better."
He grinned at her, suddenly feeling extremely light, as though he could float on air. He felt energized. Must have been that little bit of Scully magic last night. He stood up and looked out over the water one final time, saying a personal farewell to a path not taken. Then he turned and reached a hand down to her, pulling her to her feet.
"So Scully, how do you propose we kill these hours before we welcome your second night here?"
* * * * *
Washington, D.C.
Approximately Two Weeks Ago
Dana Scully stopped in her tracks upon seeing her partner sitting at the familiar bench. She had expected to find him here, and yet she was surprised all the same. Surprised because they so rarely came here anymore. But expected because he was by himself. She had always imagined that it was a familiar haunt for him, somewhere he would go to for some peace and quiet. As she continued to watch him from a distance, memories of covert meetings intermingled with incomprehensible feelings of separation and anxiety came flooding back like it had all been yesterday. But she didn't need reality to remind her that it had been many yesterdays ago. Six years' worth, in fact. Long before either one of them had been forced to make any truly important decisions. Long before life - in essence - became complicated.
She had left him an hour before lunch, off to run a quick errand. They had been cleaning out the basement office, organizing files for an internal audit and evaluation that Skinner had told them would happen sometime within the next six weeks or so. Cases were light, as they oddly tended to be in the late summer. Catching up on paperwork and ensuring some semblance of organization was an annual ritual that they usually undertook at this time of the year. Nothing overly exciting or exerting. So she was surprised when she returned to find him nowhere in sight. No note, no message. His jacket was hanging on the coat rack and his cellphone - as she soon discovered - was in its pocket. When two o'clock rolled around and he still hadn't returned, she started out on the long walk to find him. Across the mall and many steps beyond, she finally arrived at her present location.
She saw him lean forward, resting his chin in a steeple formed by his fingers, his elbows supported by his knees. The muscles in her stomach clenched involuntarily at the sight. The reaction took her by surprise. In itself, the scene she observed would not have been disturbing to any passerby. A man was simply sitting on a bench by the river, probably deep in thought. All in all, nothing too much out of the ordinary. So why did Scully see the picture as one of profound loss?
She continued to watch from a distance, approaching only when she finally saw him sit up straight again.
"Is this seat taken?"
Mulder looked up, shading his eyes with his hand as he tried to focus on the figure against the bright afternoon sun. No mistaking that form. And no mistaking that line, either, the one that brought with it so many memories from days gone by. Memories of secret messages and after-dark meetings. Back when the chase was still thrilling and new. When life was simplistic and focused. Exactly how long ago was it? Fox Mulder suddenly felt very old.
He had also gone too long without answering. Scully seemed a bit unnerved by his silence and started to apologize for her intrusion.
"I'm sorry. I - I didn't realize that you might want to be alone..."
"No, Scully - have a seat. I just zoned out for a second; seeing you standing there took me back. Didn't expect you, that's all. And since when did that question need an actual reply anyway?"
"Oh, you mean, it was just our secret code for clandestine meetings?"
"Yeah, kinda like a password to get us into our exclusive club. Only paranoiacs and enigmatic doctors need apply. Although after all these years, I think I'm a little less paranoid and you're a little less enigmatic - at least to me."
Clandestine meetings. Exclusive clubs. Everything seemed to have a double meaning these days.
"Life used to be so thrilling, huh, Scully?"
"Used to be? What are you saying, Mulder - that your life is dull all of a sudden?"
"Not dull, no. Never dull."
"But not thrilling?"
"Not especially... and I'm not just talking work, Scully."
Well, there it was in a nutshell. Life outside of work had never been thrilling, so what was he getting at?
"Mulder, to you, work has always been your life and vice versa. Now I know that you've reached the end of a lot of thrilling chases, but look at what it's brought you. Rumor is that the X-Files might be set to become a full fledged division that'll be given full recognition at the Bureau. And I know you're not given to valuing that sort of thing, but you must know what all this means in the big picture. A lot of changes are going to be happening, changes that you and I have worked towards for so long. I mean, Mulder, you might soon have everything you've ever hoped for."
There was a significant and protracted moment of silence before he turned away from her and said, "I won't have you."
She was so surprised that all she could do was return the silence. He, on the other hand, was expecting at least some sort of attempt at appeasing him, such as, "what do you mean by that?".
"So it's true?" He stared out across the river, avoiding the questioning gaze that he felt from her.
"No, of course not. What have you heard?"
"That you've accepted a forensics research assignment at Quantico as part of a small team working under the supervision of a Doctor or Agent James Russell."
She breathed a small sigh of relief. That.
"Well, if you know that much, Mulder, then you should also know that it's a temporary assignment that doesn't even officially remove me from active field duty."
"I heard fourteen months, Scully. That's about as temporary as the year twenty-oh-one."
"It's not full time."
"Fine. It doesn't really matter anyway. Except for the fact that you made this decision on your own - without even bringing it to my attention. When were you going to tell me? Were you just going to leave? Didn't you even want to give me time to get a new partner?"
The way he emphasized the last word made her flinch inwardly. This was totally unexpected. That she didn't let him know from the beginning had nagged at her all along, but she had not anticipated having to answer to this barrage of emotion here on the banks of the Potomac.
"What we've heard is that the X-Files division is getting actual resources, Mulder. You're going to have your pick of junior agents. My position on this research team is going to leave me with two or three days every week to pursue my regular work. I thought that it was an arrangement that wouldn't require you to take on a full-time partner."
"Did you ever stop to think about whether I wanted to do this anymore?"
Talk about unexpected.
"What are you saying, Mulder? That you're done with the X-Files?"
"Scully, so much has happened over the past year. I think my head is still spinning from all of it. I've felt things over the past twelve months that I've never felt before. It's been crazy. I've been crazy. I've lost so much and yet I feel I should be thankful for so much more. And throughout everything, I keep turning to you as that pillar of stability in my life, that constant reminder of where my own reality begins and ends. But somewhere along the way, I lost track of the fact that we still have our own agendas. We're still each our own person. And ultimately, we have our own roads to follow. I didn't realize that until this morning."
"What happened this morning?"
"I got a call from the University. They're interested in having me teach a course in paranormal sciences of all things."
"Are you interested?"
"Maybe, but that's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"The point is that maybe we've gone as far as we can, doing what we've been doing. Together. Regardless of what the Bureau has in store for the X-Files, maybe it is time for us to go our separate ways. Professionally speaking. Scully, we can't go on hiding what's happened for much longer. If I recall, it was never our intention. And I don't know about you, but it doesn't feel right to be involved in this illicit - albeit well-behaved - affair. I know we've agreed not to conduct any bedroom romps for the time being, but we've already crossed that line and at some point, continuing to deny ourselves is just stupid."
"What does all of this mean in terms of -"
"This project you've signed on for? I guess what I'm trying to say is that, much as I don't like it, I think I now realize that it's inevitable. You've got other places to go and so do I. So I've been sitting here trying to gain clarity, you might say."
"But..." She stopped and glanced at her watch, smiling slightly when she returned her gaze to his face. "Clarity is not quickly or easily gained?"
"Something like that." He offered a crooked, self-deprecating grin in return, squinting against the sunlight. "You look like you have something to say, Scully. What is it? You didn't just traipse out here to find my sorry ass, did you?"
"Well, I couldn't get ahold of you by phone." Mulder looked to both sides of himself, suddenly aware that he was just in his shirtsleeves. No jacket next to him; he had been sitting out here in total cellphone deprivation.
"I got my appointment confirmed. This Sunday."
Scully's annual medical. Another agonizing check into the state of the cancer. Another tension-filled two weeks of not just hoping that everything was stable, but of praying that nothing new had surfaced. At that particular thought, Mulder felt his muscles tighten up as he revisited an unpleasant memory from a few months ago. Scully's little "outing" with the Cancerman. The incident had dangerously sidetracked the two of them for nearly a week. He just hadn't known how to deal with the unexpected anger that he felt at her misguided adventure. And he was scared to death that something had been done to her without her knowledge. He had almost insisted that she get checked out right then and there, but for the sake of rebuilding some unity over what eventually turned out to be the beginning of a rather rough period for them, he had left it alone.
Scully knew exactly that sort of thoughts had entered his head just by his changed expression.
"I was wondering if you'd come with me..."
The look on his face softened immediately as he reached over and took one of her hands from her lap. He was still somewhat amazed that she had asked, despite the fact that little by little, she had been more open about her vulnerability lately.
"Of course I will."
They sat in contented silence for several minutes, before Scully withdrew her hand and got up, walking towards the edge of the river bank.
"How long have you known about this project, Mulder?" She kept her back to him while she talked.
"About a week or so. Your Dr. Russell called my number by mistake; wanted to leave a message with me that the project had been approved. I told him to call back and put it in your voicemail."
"I was wondering why you've been sort of distant lately..."
"Sorry. It's my unfortunate male ego, Scully. I thought you were running away from me. Like I said, a bit of clarity helps. You'd think I would have realized a long time ago that neither one of us wants to be doing this until we're fifty. We have to let go some time."
"So it looks like you might have a real decision to make too."
"Well, this position is for January. I have some time on my side. But I'd still like to see what comes out of this department evaluation thing. Although, no matter how nicely they put it, it's still an audit and those are never pleasant. Maybe my decision will be made for me."
"Would that surprise you?"
"After all the decisions that I haven't made in this lifetime? Not one bit. But who knows - maybe this time, I'll even agree with it."
She turned around to lean against the steel railing, meeting his eyes briefly before looking off into the distance. Mulder took the opportunity to study her from head to toe, considering just how much she had changed since the last time she stood in that exact same spot in front of him.
"I used to come here every now and then, after work, when we were shut down that first time. There was this rock - over there, I think; it's totally covered by that overgrown shrub now - where I'd sit and watch this bench. I'd wait to see if you'd show up."
"Spying on me, Scully?"
"No, but I was concerned about you for a long time. And you weren't altogether forthcoming, if I remember correctly. It was all I could do, since I didn't exactly feel comfortable enough to just call you up and say, 'hey, I'm in the neighborhood, can I drop by'?"
"So did you ever catch me here?"
"Honestly? Once. But I didn't know how to approach you, how to explain why I was even here. So I just left."
He got up from the bench and walked over to her, leaning forward against the railing, facing in the opposite direction.
"Interesting times, huh? Talk about paranoid. Funny thing is, I don't think that I'd have the same commitment to it all if the opportunity were to arise again. I don't think that I can care that much anymore. About the job." He leaned back to look at her, a bemused expression on his face, as though he had surprised even himself by admitting such a thing out loud. "What does that mean?"
"I think it means you're getting old, Mulder." She smiled at his look and reached up to ruffle his hair affectionately. "But seriously, after so many years of chasing the same stick, it's perfectly understandable."
"Are you comparing me to a dog, Scully?"
"All I'm saying is that - outside of what might be happening with the X-Files now, finally - you haven't been rewarded all that well for the time that you've invested. And at some point, the commitment wanes, especially if you've found some of the answers that you've been looking for. I mean, it's not like you're here for the money -"
He laughed. "God, no."
"Or the hours -" She elbowed him in the ribs for emphasis.
"Ow. Another huge benefit. Don't mention respect or I'll really have to cry."
"Mom once told me that as we get older, our priorities sometimes change so much and so quickly that it's astounding when we finally realize it. I guess until that moment we're busy running around looking for the latest and greatest 'key to everything'. Or, I suppose - if our names were Smith and Jones and not Mulder and Scully - we're chasing after the next best minivan or motorboat. We're all the same; it's just a matter of degree. Chasing our tails, not seeing what's really important."
"So you are comparing me to a dog."
"You and me both, Mulder. And maybe the whole flippin' world too."
"You know what, Scully? I think I did manage to gain some clarity here this afternoon. Your mom's right. It is astounding. It's astounding to know that I'm no longer willing to put off the rest of my life for the remainder of this job. Or for any other job for that matter. We only get so many chances and God knows you and I have pushed the limits. So it's not just the dilemma of letting the Bureau know that we are doing what they think we're doing anyway and then trying to live with the aftermath... it's - it's so much bigger than that."
"So as usual, Mulder, where does that leave us?"
"Let's take that vacation, Scully. Let's take your trip to the mountains and see those blue-green lakes before I really get old and my parts shrivel up. I know we have to be on our best behavior for the next little while because of this audit and what it can mean, but... " He turned sideways and leaned in close to her, whispering suggestively into her ear, "In the meantime, let's go somewhere far away where we can relax by day and screw each other's brains out by night. Or the other way around, it really doesn't matter to me. Let's just set aside all these monumental decisions for later."
* * * * *
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
Mulder walked up to Skinner's desk as authoritatively as he could manage under the circumstances. The older man's stern expression greeted him as usual, almost warning him to be speedy with his request and not waste his precious time.
"Assistant Director Skinner, I'd like to request clearance for some vacation days for me and Agent Scully."
The stern expression transformed into one of confusion. "Excuse me? Did you say vacation days?"
"Yes sir."
"What am I not understanding here, Agent Mulder - why do you need clearance from me? Don't you normally just go to HR to book holiday time?"
"Normally yes, but this is short notice and I did say that it was for the both of us."
"At the same time?" Skinner's eyebrows shot up briefly for a moment, but he recovered quickly. What the hell. After all, the unofficial office pool had long ago turned into "when" instead of "if". Still, this seemed like an abnormally bold move. They had certainly taken time off simultaneously in the past, but without exception, it was only when both were recuperating in some manner.
"Yes sir."
"And HR would want - what?"
"Details on how the unit will be covered off, and essentially more paperwork than I care to have."
"Is there anything more that I should be aware of, Agent Mulder?"
Not anything other than what you already suspect, or know, Mulder thought. He shook his head, however, hoping that he could count on this man to give him enough trust to leave this alone, or at least leave it off the record.
"You're not experiencing any type of crisis? Agent Scully's healthy?"
"No reason to think otherwise. She's getting her annual checkup this weekend. And we're not in any difficulty that merits any departmental interest."
"Well, I guess there is the concern about your present caseload, and you would know better than me what the status is. When are you wanting this time off and how long is it for?"
"In the next two weeks or so, for no more than a week. We're currently in a homebound paper-pushing phase anyway, getting ready for this evaluation coming up. Nothing new has been started and I'm expecting that anything open will be addressed before we leave."
"So all you need from me is to inform HR that you two are cleared to be off-duty for a week?"
"Something like that."
"All right. I'll get on it as soon as possible and let you know."
"Thank you, sir." He turned to leave.
"Fox..."
Mulder stopped in his tracks. He could count on two fingers the number of times Skinner had called him by his first name.
"Yes sir?"
"I take it that you understand that it's up to you to ensure that personal matters stay personal."
They had managed to read one other perfectly.
"Yes, sir. Always."
* * * * *
Parkway Cemetery
Boston, MA
The bundle of flowers fell onto the soft grassy earth in a gentle tumble, landing against the left corner of the headstone that identified a Teena Mulder. Only a few steps away lay her ex-husband, the same man who had arranged for their burial plots many years ago despite their having been separated at the time. He didn't get them adjacent to one another because of their personal situation, but it had been his intention that their children would be able to visit them at one place, after they had passed on. Give them that in death, at least, he had told her.
Odds were, however, that they hadn't been intending on occupying those spots so soon.
Fox Mulder knelt down on one knee in front of the marker, bowing his head briefly.
"Hi Mom."
Approximately six months had passed since his world had been shaken up yet again. Six months since he had lost his mother to her own hand, with her taking whatever knowledge she had had of his sister to her grave. Many rough nights and hours of therapy invested later, Mulder finally found himself able to face coming here for the first time since the funeral.
"I want you to know that I'm fine. Really fine. Gone the entire circle. Been mad at myself and at you and at the world in general. I've spent the usual hours trying to analyze and rationalize what happened and why. Of course, I was determined to prove it. Prove that this was all somehow linked to my work or Dad's work... that Cancerman had done you in for good. I guess it's just hard for me to take things at face value. The simplest answer has never been the real answer to anything in my life. I understand it's a learned response... this need to suspect that things aren't what they seem. Which isn't to say that I totally understand why you took this route. I don't. But I've come to accept it. Accept that some things are just not meant for me to understand. And that's okay."
His closed his eyes and turned his face skyward, feeling the sun's rays burning through the low cloud. It was one of those days where sunglasses were needed to cut the glare, even though it didn't look particularly sunny outside.
"I was going to come up on Mother's Day. Never made it, obviously. But I thought about you. I took a walk through a garden greenhouse and it brought me back to all those times when I'd come up to help you put in bedding plants for the summer. The house has been sold, of course, but I went up to the cabin and put in a couple of pine seedlings in the back. One for you and one for Sam... just like I did for Dad a few years ago. They'll all outlast me eventually - grow up big and strong, just the way they're supposed to."
He paused and reached out tentatively to touch the headstone, feeling a shiver go up his spine when his fingers came into contact with the cool surface.
"I'm heading off on a vacation with Scully, Mom. Taking some advice, I guess. I never realized that I can be so thick sometimes, but.... You knew about her, didn't you? It's taken me months to put the pieces together but at some point it occurred to me that you must have known. Certain things that you said to me last Christmas - which seemed strange at the time - weren't really all that strange after all. I think I was thrown by the traditional 'mother-son' tone of it all. That's not what we've ever really been, not since I left home anyway. All that stuff about realizing what's important in life, not wasting time.... You wanted to know that I wouldn't be forever driven by work. That I wouldn't wind up old and alone with no one to love. It didn't click until much later, but... I realize that you wanted to make sure that it might be safe for you to go."
He took the bundle of flowers and placed them upright against the front of the headstone, plucking out a dead leaf that was dangling from the cellophane package.
"It's been a wild ride over the past several months. Things have been happening... sorta fast. It's all relative, I guess. Scully and I are nothing if not methodically thorough. That weekend I was up in Quonochontaug, she came up to see me. It turned out to be... interesting and long-overdue. But what it all means is that we now have some important decisions to make when we come back."
Mulder sat down on the ground and reached over to the flower bundle once more, pulling out the rose he had added to the package. Blood red, more than half open. Gracefully long stemmed, with an abundance of leaves and thorns all the way from top to bottom, he had pricked himself just pulling it out from the container at the flower shop. As he proceeded to pull off its leaves and petals to scatter them on top of the grave, he felt himself inexorably drawn back to that late June weekend at the family summer house...
The weatherman had been promising hot weather for the coast the afternoon he drove out to Rhode Island. It was one of those instances when he had merely hopped into the car and set off with no notice. By chance, Scully had called him the next morning. After explaining where he was and what he was doing there, he invited her up to spend the weekend with him. The offer had been made more on impulse than anything else. Surprisingly, she accepted. Neither of them, however, could possibly have had any inkling of just how much things would change by the time the weekend was over.
She arrived late Saturday afternoon, just as he had finished putting in the first of his pine seedlings into the ground. He took a break to walk down to the edge of the water with her, filling her in on some old family stories of summers spent long ago.
"I'm glad you have good memories of this place, Mulder."
"Hmm. I guess you don't, right?"
"Well, you might say it's still a little creepy for me, but that can change."
"The holes in the wall have been filled in, Scully."
"It's sort of disturbing how you can say that so -"
"So what?"
"So casually."
"I don't mean it casually that I almost killed you, if you that's what you think."
"No - no, Mulder, that's not what I'm getting at. That whole experience was just quite frightening... seeing how far you'd go."
"That was then. I haven't been like that lately, have I?"
She smiled, not needing to answer that one. He gave her an appreciative onceover and grinned back.
"You look nice, Scully. Very summer-like. You should wear dresses more often."
"Doesn't quite fit the wardrobe requirements at the Bureau. At least this one doesn't."
"Why, just because your shoulders are exposed? You can easily slap one of your jackets on top of it. You can probably run better in this than in some of your tighter skirts." He reached down to pick up the edge of the full skirt, extending it outwards for emphasis. As he enjoyed the resulting backlit view of her legs through the gauzy material, it occurred to him that it wasn't often that Scully wore something so... accessible. "Stay here. Enjoy the scenery. I'll be right back after I plant that other tree."
He returned to his spot just a short walk up the bank and had almost finished digging out a second hole when he heard her approach.
"It's starting to rain, Mulder."
"Good, we need it. It'll be nice to cool down the temperature. The heat was stifling last night, made it hard to sleep."
"Aren't you going inside?"
"Actually, I'm just about finished here. I don't want to have to come out and deal with it later if it gets all muddy after the rain. You can go on in if you want; it's open."
"No, I'll wait for you."
She watched as he continued to pull dirt out of the ground.
"Can you give me a hand, Scully?"
He supposed in hindsight that he should have been more specific and asked her to hand him the seedling. As it turned out, his words seemed to strike Scully as meaning "give me a hand with digging this hole". When she bent towards him, hands reaching towards the dirt, he was suddenly reminded of an unpleasant memory that stopped him in mid-breath.
"No!" He was surprised by the sharpness in his voice. "Not that, you'll get your hands dirty."
She straightened back up and looked down at him, connecting with his eyes and seeing something other than what she had expected. The significance of the moment had not escaped her. As soon as he uttered his request, she had heard echoes of a similar plea from him several years ago, in a totally different situation, a totally different place. Help me, Scully.
She thought there'd be some awkward emotional response of some sort. Instead she simply found an open expression of need in his eyes, the kind that manifests out of too many years of persistent suffering, of waiting for physical relief to dull the senses. She had seen this look once before, several months ago when he was at his mother's house, packing up her belongings. Extremes of emotion were just so difficult to classify. Given the right circumstances, love, hate, anger, and grief, along with lust, desire, and sexual yearning can all be fused together into one big ball of emotion with indistinct and blurred boundaries. She knew what drove him that night. It wouldn't surprise her one bit if some of the same was at work again right here, right now.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to bark at you. I just wanted you to drop the tree in here... " He turned his attention back to the hole in front of him.
Scully picked up the seedling from the cardboard tray near her feet and knelt down beside him. He pulled on the plastic pot and removed it, exposing the root ball in a clump of soil before she placed it carefully in the center of the indentation that he had dug. In no time at all, he was patting down the dirt around it, finishing up his task quickly. Meanwhile, the drops of rain had turned into a substantial drizzle.
They stood up together, with Mulder stripping off his gloves and tossing them aside. Even though she had sensed that something was coming, what happened next was still a surprise.
He reached out to grab her hand, pulling her closer to where he stood. She looked up at him questioningly, not saying a word, allowing him to hold her eyes in an intense, hypnotic stare. Mulder wanted to make clear his desire to her, but he also wanted to convey the fact that he had full control over his faculties. He knew that she might wonder whether this was merely a repeat of the incident at his mother's house. She continued in her silence, however, saying not a word in protest nor in rationalization. The next thing he knew, the rest of the world faded out as his parted lips captured her mouth in a slow, deep kiss.
Despite having crossed this particular line almost a year ago, they still didn't do this very often. And Mulder knew exactly why. All of the blood and heat in his body drained and pooled into one central region the split second after touching her lips. The effect was embarrassingly immediate. But during those rare occasions when they had allowed themselves the pleasure, he had come to recognize the distinct signs of Scully's own little problem with the activity. The way she would squeeze her legs together, trying not to squirm too obviously. The way she would make involuntary, barely audible noises that she would then try unsuccessfully to suppress. Despite feeling himself slipping into a foggy haze, he wondered abstractly if she would be disciplined enough to hold back screams of passion. He also wondered if this would be the day that he might finally find out....
Mulder carefully placed the remains of the rose - now just a tiny closed bud atop a bare stem - on top of the grave marker.
"Talk to you soon, Mom."
* * * * *
Jasper, Alberta
For more years than he cared to count, Fox Mulder had been a runner. He understood and grudgingly accepted the negative psychological implications, but for the most part, he ran because he enjoyed it. He liked the feeling of the wind against his body and the cleansing that it gave him, particularly when he ran in the rain. He liked the idea of being able to travel far on just the power afforded by his own two legs. He liked listening to the rhythmic pounding of his footsteps on the ground. He liked the undeniable proof of progress, the measurable reality of getting from point A to point B. He liked the simplicity and freedom of the activity. It was something that he could do no matter where he was, dependent on no one and nothing.
So ever since his arrival yesterday afternoon, he had been doing a lot of running. Taking advantage of the fact that Scully would be joining him a day late, he set out to explore the grounds and surrounding area. The trails here were absolutely stunning. Exquisitely groomed, lined with tall evergreens, teeming with animal life yet refreshingly lacking the human variety. The weather had been hot during the daylight hours, but the evenings were fresh and cool in that uncompromising northern way. And the air - well, it was totally unlike anything that he had ever breathed in his life, fragrant with the unmistakable scent of the great autumn outdoors. The springiness of the ground beneath his feet was another luxury entirely - it wasn't often that he had the opportunity to run on anything other than hard, knee-jarring concrete.
Every now and then, however, he would find himself running faster and faster. It would then develop into a full-blown sprint with which he would eventually wear himself out. Each time, it was brought about by the same set of thoughts: the reason for Scully's delayed arrival. She had been called back for a second briefing with her doctor. Definitely not normal. The only thing that seemed somewhat reassuring was that she had been told the repeat visit wasn't prompted by the cancer. But that was as much as they were prepared to tell her before they had the final results.
* * * * *
The click of a key in the door and then the sound of a familiar voice came calling.
"Hey Scully - how was your trip? Our cabin boy said that he just dropped off your luggage..."
"It was a nice ride. A little long, though. But it was a beautiful sun going down on the horizon." She looked around at their immediate surroundings and then settled on his eager-to-please face with a knowing smile. "This place is amazing, Mulder."
"Isn't it? I had to stop on the highway coming in to let a bunch of mountain sheep or goats or whatever cross the road."
"Big-horned sheep. The bus driver pointed them out to us."
"Just wait til you see the color of the lake here in the daylight."
"It looked pretty impressive even when I got in. I had a quick chance to look around when I checked in. I really like the 'rustic trappings of luxury' theme they have going here; it's quite unusual. They obviously cater to a high class of clientele."
"Yeah, I was talking to a room service guy yesterday who said that Marilyn Monroe stayed here while filming a movie years and years ago. He couldn't remember which movie. Mind you, he was so young, I was surprised he knew who she was at all."
"You're not still agonizing over the age thing, are you? You're not old, Mulder."
How could he possibly think such thoughts, anyway, looking as good as he did right this minute? He'd obviously been out running; his tank top was damp down the front of his chest. His lower half was encased in a pair of loose-fitting fleece shorts. It was a nice look for him, showing off his lanky, toned limbs. As she watched him walk over to the bed, she wondered if it was common for a woman to admire the way a man's legs went on and on and on...
Mulder sprawled himself on the bed behind her suitcase as she turned her attention back to moving neatly arranged piles of clothing into a nearby dresser. He threw a brief guilty glance over at the couch where his own suitcase sat, open and spilling over with his selections of the day.
"Okay, so tell me the good news, Scully."
"Well..." He didn't know what to make of the odd expression on her face. It was a puzzled yet curious look regarding something that she obviously didn't know how to categorize or explain. That couldn't be good.
"It is good news, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't be here so soon if anything was wrong."
"So why did they call you in again?"
"To let me know the results of some tests that they had to double-check."
"What sort of tests?"
"Well, that's the thing. These tests had nothing to do with - you know. They're standard tests that every woman gets every year. But apparently, they show my hormone levels going off the chart." She stopped and watched for a reaction. But he didn't seem to know what to make of the news any more than she did when she first heard. "You know that I've been on hormone replacement therapy for a few years now, due to my situation. It's the oddest thing, but the only interpretation of these results is that... I'm producing this stuff on my own again."
He frowned. "How is that possible?"
"Well, technically speaking, it's not."
"But - ?"
"But given my history, I don't think any of us can say what's possible or not. After all, we still suspect this chip in my neck is staving off terminal cancer."
For the first time since the chip had been reinstalled, Mulder considered that it might actually have other supposed powers. Was there any chance that holding off the cancer was simply a fortunate side effect of an eventual outcome far more sinister? The very thought was too frightening to consider.
"Is there any health risk?"
"An excess of anything is hardly ever good, but it's everyone's consensus that this happened quite recently and gradually, at that. I've been told to hold off on my HRT treatments for now and see what happens. They took some additional samples and told me to come back in another month, but there's no big emergency. Everything else is as it should be."
"They're sure?" He sat up, tucking one leg under himself.
"Mulder, you ask that every time. And the answer's always the same. They're as sure as they can be. As sure as any of us can be." She reached over and slapped his knee. "Hey, I'm here finally; I vote we start our vacation. And I know it's late, but I'm starving. What do I have to do to get some food around here?"
"I have a suggestion..."
* * * * *
Scully awoke to a magnificent thunder and lightning show. She sat up and looked out the patio doors, engrossed in the interplay of shadow and light amid the trees surrounding the lake. They had left the main door open just a crack, to allow for air circulation, with the result that the noise from outside seemed quite loud. With the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and the rain pounding against the outside of the cabins, it was surprising how the figure lying next to her managed to remain asleep. In her limited experience, she had always known Mulder to be a light sleeper, but there were definitely occasions when he would pass out like a rock. She usually took it as a good sign, that he had nothing pressing on his mind to keep him awake.
She eased herself out of the bed and wrapped one of the hotel-issue white terry robes around herself. Massively one-size-fits-all, it extended all the way down to the floor on her. She shuffled quietly to the patio doors and heaved on the inner panel to close it. That accomplished, she stood back a few feet to observe, instinctively heeding warnings remembered from childhood about not standing too close to windows during thunderstorms. As she stole a quick look back at the bed, she was suddenly overcome by a vivid case of deja vu. Of what seemed like a strange amalgamation of two distinctly different memories.
The last time she and Mulder had been together during a thunderstorm was back in June, at his family's summer house in Rhode Island. She had arrived shortly before the sky darkened and opened up. But the day was memorable for another event, an event that she would forever associate with thunder and lightning. Their version of fireworks. That day, shortly after her arrival, she had found herself necking with her partner like a love-starved teenager while the rain fell and drenched them from head to toe....
* * * * *
Quonochontaug, RI
June 2000
Fox Mulder had a sudden coherent thought. Whoever said it, whatever song it came from, was just so wrong: a kiss is not just a kiss.
Having effectively shut out the world around them, lips locked in primal need, it took a resounding crack of thunder for them to realize that they were caught in a sudden downpour. They broke contact and paused for a second to look at each other in wry amusement before running towards the house. In the short time that it took them to reach the back porch, they were thoroughly drenched. His t-shirt clung to his skin, molded to the contours of his muscles. Her dress, several minutes ago fit for an Easter morning at church, now hung wetly from her body.
It was obviously a significant turn-on for the both of them.
After pausing sufficiently long enough to admire Scully's new look, Mulder pushed opened the french doors and motioned her inside. She stopped at the threshold to pull off her sandals, entering in her bare feet. He followed closely behind, kicking off his shoes as he stepped through.
"Are you cold?"
"It's warm in here, but - I suppose, in a way..."
He stepped into the kitchen and began opening and closing cupboards, searching for something. He finally came up with an aluminum kettle and proceeded to fill it with water. Switching on a stove burner, he turned back to look at her once more, enjoying the sight of her trying to peel the upper portion of her dress away from her body discreetly.
"It's the damp clothing that's making you cold. I'll boil us up some water for tea."
"Good idea. Do you have -"
"Here." He tossed her a dish towel and watched as she turned away from him before using it, walking over to the doors that they had just passed through. Undoing a couple of buttons from the front of her dress, she reached underneath to run the towel quickly over her chest and shoulders. Interesting, Mulder thought, recalling that her dress had buttons running all the way down the front.
A few seconds later, he approached her from behind, startling her when he put his hands around her waist.
"A little bit jumpy, Scully?"
"Summer storms always do that to me. I'm fascinated by them, their unpredictability, the electricity they send through the air..."
"Are you sure it's not something else?"
"Why, what do you think it is?"
She turned her head to see him grinning broadly at her.
"Well, maybe I'm only speaking for myself, but I'd say that being sexually charged might make you jumpy." He spoke directly into her ear, his quiet, low tone enticing her heart to pound triple-time. He came around beside her and looked out at the pelting rain.
"I don't suppose you've brought in your change of clothes yet, have you?"
"No." She didn't want to go any further on that one.
"Guess you're gonna have to stay wet for a little while longer."
Ordinarily she supposed she would have asked him for a spare shirt or something, but he was obviously baiting her.
"I'm fine, Mulder. Some tea in me and I'll be good as new."
The look on his face said that he didn't believe her.
"Well, I can't say the same, so - " He yanked at his shirt and removed it in one quick motion. "Excuse me a moment while I change."
Scully took the opportunity to go into the kitchen and distract herself with finding some teabags. She knew that he had done that purposely, the little strip-tease thing. Historically, Mulder had never been one to be too bashful about revealing his body to her. On the road, if she happened to be in his room for whatever reason, he would think nothing of changing clothes right in front of her. And this was prior to their having established their current status. She supposed that it could have been a flirting thing all along, or just a little jab at her strip-tease during their first case in Oregon. She flushed at the mere thought. How totally naive could she have been?
In recent months, however, he had been anything but forward in that sense. Obviously, it was a result of unspoken acknowledgments that they were "close" to consummating their relationship. Knowing that anything overt might trigger the hormones once and for all, they had been to the point of going overboard in the opposite direction, virtually waiting for the right moment to display itself in bright neon lights. Peculiar concept, Scully thought, this idea of the "right moment". While they seemed to know instinctively what the wrong moments were, she no longer had any confidence that she would ever know what the right one was, short of the bright neon lights. Just two months ago she thought she had the right moment, but the feeling obviously hadn't been mutual. Probably a good thing, all in all. It was the tail end of a period in which they had been dangerously off balance in a personal sense; she just hadn't wanted to admit it at the time.
Was this the right moment?
Would it be a case of their bodies telling them when the right moment would be? Because it really felt as though hers was screaming out, in want of some relief. It was very odd, because until Mulder kissed her, it hadn't occurred to her at all that this sort of thing might happen. Did he have any inkling when he invited her up to join him?
As she opened a cupboard to look for something to put their tea into, she realized that she was gently tapping her fingers against her mouth. It was as though she could still feel phantom lips on hers. The mere thought of it churned up unspeakable sensations from deep within her gut. Her last memory of such intensity took her back to that weekend at his mother's house, when they had come this close to doing it all.
She heard a door close at the end of the hall and then the sound of water running.
Did he think this was the right moment? Did he just leave her with notice that he was amenable to this being the right moment? Scully had to stifle a groan at the way her mind was circling this issue like an indecisive hawk circling already dead prey. It was there for the taking. It was a known fact that it would eventually be taken. What the hell was so hard about it? As Mulder had said to her several months ago, "It's as easy as breathing."
Except that where Mulder was concerned, sometimes Scully felt like she was still learning how to breathe.
* * * * *
"Finished with your tea, Scully?"
She looked down into the empty mug that she was still cradling with both hands and nodded. "Yes, thanks."
He took their mugs away and went into the kitchen. There was a long pause before she heard him call out, "Got any plans for weathering the storm?"
"What are you suggesting, Mulder?"
"I'm asking you."
He was still speaking from the kitchen, so she got up from the couch and followed his voice.
"Somehow I get the feeling that you already have something in mind..."
As she rounded the corner, she was startled by a flash of lightning that reflected off his white shirt. Seeing him advancing towards her, she stepped back and ended up trapping herself against the wall. Looking into his eyes, she saw that there was no hiding the fact that he definitely had something in mind.
A low rumbling of thunder seemed to confirm that thought.
"Nothing better to do when it's storming outside than to make out, Scully." His voice had taken on a low, seductively velvet tone.
[SNIP R-RATED CONTENT]
* * * * *
Jasper, Alberta
A flash of lightning lit up the entire room momentarily, followed three seconds later by a loud resounding boom. Startled by the direct overhead sound, Scully had to stifle a scream when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders.
"Sorry, Scully."
"Trying to give me a heart attack, Mulder??"
"I thought you heard me get out of the bed."
"Well, there's a bit more noise going on around here than just you getting out of bed, okay?"
"Okay, okay, I said I was sorry." He encircled her torso with his arms, holding her tight against his chest and stomach. "Does this seem somewhat deja vu to you?"
"Yes, but in a different way than you're thinking." She seemed distracted as she said the words, almost as though she were suddenly far away.
"What do you mean?"
Did she really want to tell him? Although now that she had brought it up, it would be kind of difficult to backpedal and decide not to tell him.
"Remember that weekend when you went to England to chase those ridiculous crop circles -"
It wasn't a weekend that he looked back on fondly, for a variety of reasons. He decided not to go the serious route.
"You mean the weekend you were overcome by that killer case of PMS?"
He could see her embarrassed smile reflecting in the glass of the patio door in front of them. He swore that he could see her face turn red also, but surely, that had to be an imagined afterthought...
"Okay, Mulder, you promised to forgive and forget on that one."
"No-o, I think I only forgave on that one. I don't recall saying anything about forgetting. And in any case, how could I possibly forget -"
"All right, so I was a little bitchy -"
"A little? You were the Holy Goddess of All Bitches -"
"Okay! The point - Mulder - that I'm trying to make here, is that... Jesus, you've made me forget what the hell point I was trying to make."
Another flash lit up the room.
"Such language, Scully. I believe it had something to do with -" He paused for the imminent thunder. "Deja vu regarding this show from Mother Nature."
"That's right. Although now I don't think you deserve to know what I was going to say..."
"Was there a thunderstorm that night?"
"Yes. Remember how hot and humid it got during the afternoon and into the evening, even though it was only April?"
"Vaguely. I don't remember hearing a storm, though."
"I don't doubt it. You were sleeping quite soundly."
Her statement hung in the air for a prolonged while as he suddenly experienced a trademark spooky moment. Of knowing precisely what it was that she was about to say to him.
"Your implication about the deja vu thing... Were you expecting us to - do it - that night?"
Dana Scully stiffened in his arms before pulling herself away from him. She turned around in stunned silence.
"How - you knew?"
"No."
She gave him a confused look that didn't escape him, even in the dark. He walked around her to lean against the fireplace, not quite facing her directly.
"It just came to me," he said sheepishly.
It just came to him? Somehow this wasn't how she had anticipated "telling" him.
"What happened, Scully? It wasn't like you started something and I didn't even wake up, was it?" God, he hoped that hadn't been the case.
"I was awakened by the sound of the storm blowing through. I noticed that you'd left me a t-shirt so I changed and got into bed. You moved a bit, but I don't think you really woke up at all."
"I really don't remember that. I may have been aware that you'd spent some part of the night in bed, but you were gone by the morning, so I never..." He trailed off, trying to sift out some semblance of a concrete memory from that night. Jet lag must have hit him rather hard, because he really couldn't recall anything specific after leaving her on his couch with a blanket and a spare shirt. For once, the thought of having sex truly might have been the furthest thing from his mind when his head hit the pillow that night.
She still hadn't elaborated on what may have been on her mind, however.
"You didn't hear me when I left, did you?"
"No." He appeared slightly embarrassed at the admission.
"I told myself that, if you were to wake up - either when I first got into bed or when I was changing to leave - that I'd make a... move... of some kind." Now it was her turn to appear embarrassed. She was now wondering what had possessed her to bring this up in the first place. "I mean, Mulder, you'd always been harping on me to take control. I was even going to go for it earlier, but -"
"You fell asleep." He couldn't help but frown as a definitive memory made itself known to him finally. "Scully, why would you choose that night of all nights?"
"With the benefit of hindsight, I wouldn't have. Hearing you now, I'm glad I didn't go any further with it. At the time, I guess I thought I was turning over a new leaf. Finally accepting where my life had taken me."
"And that was a signal for you and I to get down and dirty for the first time?" He seemed honestly puzzled by her rationale.
"Well, obviously, we weren't on the same wavelength, so it never would have happened anyway."
"I'm just trying to understand what your motivations might have been, that's all."
"Motivations?"
"Yeah, like why that night, after you'd spent the previous two days going down some strangely bizarre and gruesome memory lane. Reliving what life could have been with you and the good doctor. I just don't see how you and I fit into that scenario."
"I needed to feel wanted that night, Mulder. But not by someone from my past who could only see me as I was then, an entirely different person, someone that I don't even know how to be anymore."
She sighed, remembering quite clearly how much she had wanted to tell Daniel that she could never go back to being the person that he knew ten years ago. She wanted to tell him how time had succeeded in healing the wounds on her side, even though she hadn't really known it until she saw him in person again. How the sadness that she felt was a reaction to feeling so little for him after all this time. How it made her realize that her heart was totally with someone else, someone who had just traveled across the ocean to seek out patterns in hayfields. If only she had had the guts to tell him that.
She looked up at Mulder and continued, "I needed to know that I wasn't going to be afraid forever, that I could actually take control of my life."
Just as she had been counting the seconds between lightning flashes and thunder claps, she counted off several seconds before Mulder spoke.
"You don't think you have control over your life, Scully?"
Unexpected tears welled up in her eyes upon hearing the tightness in his voice.
"Not as much as I'd like. But that's me. I let it happen that way and then I complain about it. Not extremely proactive."
"Is that the reason why you accepted the research assignment?"
"Partly. Mostly. Look Mulder, you and I have become so used to working with one another that we've melded into this MulderScully super-entity, this beast that's not quite true to either one of us sometimes."
"So in chasing all these monsters over the years, you think we've finally become one ourselves?"
"In a very metaphorical sense, of course. You said it yourself two weeks ago - we have our own roads to follow. I can only start controlling my life if it's truly my life. Professionally speaking."
Lightning and thunder hit almost in unison, causing Scully to jump back from the patio door. Mulder stepped over to her and caught her in his arms again, kissing her forehead lightly.
"How did a conversation about making love turn into this serious discussion about work?"
"As long as we have this work, that could be how it is."
"Well, that's not allowed while we're here. We have a few weeks yet to make up our minds about work. But for now, we have many years to catch up on in terms of other things."
"Other things?"
"Other things."
He led her back to the bed, just as the room lit up once more from a bright jagged streak traveling across the sky.
* * * * *
The Healing Waters: Epilogue
Fox Mulder's Apartment
Alexandria, VA
One Month Later
Dana Scully stood in the doorway and watched in silence as her partner stuffed the last of his necessities into a knapsack. Hours and counting and soon he would be on a plane and back into the woods of Bellefleur, Oregon. Back to what had always been his lifelong pursuit. She checked her watch, noticing with dismay how quickly the hour was passing. What an evening it had been, the encounter with that rat bastard Krycek and that smug Covarrubias woman, with the final determination that Mulder would be the one to go back in and - and do what? Haul out a freakin' UFO? As the minutes ticked on, with her nerves standing on end, all Scully could hope was that by tomorrow morning she wouldn't be thinking that this had been a preposterous idea.
"I better get out of here before Skinner arrives."
"Why? Like you're ever afraid of confronting him."
"I just don't feel up to it right now. I might insist on coming along. Old habits die hard."
"Ah. Track two, side A of 'Mulder and Scully's Greatest Hits'. I have that album."
In spite of everything, Scully allowed herself a chuckle at his comment. "Really? What's track one?"
"I'll tell you when I get back. It'll give you time to think about it."
The smile disappeared from her face as reality settled over her once more.
"Scully, you know this is for the best, don't you?"
"Yes. I do know that."
"Thanks for letting me make that decision. It means a lot to me."
"Well... you accepted my suggestion of going with Skinner."
"I won't have as much fun with him. Too bad we don't have time to 'seal the deal', huh?"
Now he was being playful, and Scully wished that she could feel the same way. She gave him a much weaker smile this time and walked away, preparing to make her exit. At the last second, she turned around and approached him again.
"Mulder?"
"Yeah?"
She had a sudden thought and lifted her hands to the back of her neck to unclasp her chain. She motioned to him, and he bent down so she could reach around him. He then turned back towards her, fingering the tiny gold cross that was now around his neck.
"Your beacon," she whispered. He nodded wordlessly in response. "Stay safe."
"I will."
She turned to go but turned back again once more.
"Another thing -"
"I won't be gone long, Scully."
The teasing flicker in his eyes and the smile on his lips took her away from everything that seemed wrong for a moment. For a brief second, she believed him. But she wasn't quite succeeding at tamping down on the foreboding feelings that she had been having ever since the late afternoon. The late afternoon when she got her first glimpse of that disturbing mix of individuals in their office, the same group who ultimately played a major role in determining Mulder's fate for this day.
Perhaps this time, he would come out of these woods with concrete evidence that what he had been pursuing all his life was worth the sacrifices made. Perhaps, all things considered, this might just be his last chance. It was such an unusual situation - they had never been intentionally separated for purely personal reasons before - that Scully nurtured a fervent hope for him to find what he was still unquestionably looking for, once and for all. Dear God, she'd even believe it this time. Believe it all. Without question, without argument. After all these years of steadfast denial, of playing a role that she felt strangely obligated to fulfill, she had finally reached the point of wanting to believe.
A sudden sharp prickling across the bridge of her nose made her wince, just as she felt a corresponding tightening in her throat.
In the hallway outside Skinner's office not two hours ago, she had told him that she wouldn't let him go alone. And he had acquiesced to her wishes without a word of protest. But Scully had also decided then and there that he wasn't going to leave without hearing certain words from her.
"What is it...?"
She inhaled an unsteady breath, holding back inexplicable tears that she knew would fall later.
"I love you."
Coming from her, those words had the power to heal all wounds past, present and future. That Mulder felt his heart leap made him realize just how much he had needed to hear them from her. How much more often, in fact, he needed to hear them than she was able to say them. Mere knowledge was never any substitute. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and opened up his arms to her for a final embrace.
"I know." He remembered laughing out loud when he heard that line being spoken by a sci-fi rogue hero in a movie theater almost twenty years ago. But this was real, and this particular declaration - finally made freely, without being prompted by him in any sense - deserved something in return. "I love you too."
They clung to one another tightly for a moment, before she leaned back to look up into his face. "Is this the beginning of the end, Mulder?"
"I think it's all starting to fall into place and make sense, don't you? I'm reminded of something that you said to me, a couple of years ago, when we came back from Antarctica. You asked me, 'what happens after'? You said that you needed to know that there would be an end somewhere down the road. As fate would have it, our end looks suspiciously like our beginning. To Oregon and back. Maybe we have to end this part of our lives in order to start something new. And I'm sorry, Scully, but... I know that I had said it was up to you to decide if what we're sacrificing isn't worth it, but like I've done before, I'm drawing the line for you. I'm drawing the line for the both of us."
As Scully rested her head against his shoulder, her mind wandered to a memory barely a month old. Walking along the shores of a blue-green lake, caught between the breathlessly giddy exhilaration of finally taking that bold step forward as lovers and the sadly melancholic realization that nothing would or ever could be the same again. Especially in light of what they knew had to happen, the decisions that had to be made. That day, walking along the water's edge - a boundary so symbolic of the ease with which some lines can be drawn and re-drawn again - she had suspected that the end had already arrived.
* END *
UPDATED AUTHOR NOTES (2008-2010)
When I think about my X-Files fanfic, in one corner I see CROSSING LINES and in another I see WATER’S EDGE. They are essentially my creative bookends, my “point A to point B”, my beginning and ending for the characters that I lived and breathed for several years of my life.
That said, the creative process for the two stories couldn’t have been more different. My first effort wasn’t strategically planned out; I had an idea and I just wrote it and it ended up being the first piece of fiction that I had written in many, many years. (Thankfully it was sort of good and encouraged me to write more.) But there was no real “thinking about” what I was writing when I was writing it. By the time I came to write WATER’S EDGE, it was quite a production to execute.
As I stated in my original background notes, I set out to tackle three goals with WATER’S EDGE. They centered on the “did they or didn’t they” debate surrounding the dreadful all things episode. I said that they didn’t and thus proceeded to map out a way for them to have their moment and have it be realistic and have it be good. Unlike with CROSSING LINES, I did a lot of thinking as I wrote this one. I had to juggle different timelines and locales, going back two weeks here, a few months there. And of course, there was the “long time in the making” orchestrated and choreographed sex scene that went on for pages. (And as I recall, there were fringe benefits to be had. I’m sure my husband had no clue what was making me so horny during the time that this was written.)
If Requiem hadn’t happened; I could have created the happy ending that some people wanted for Mulder and Scully. As it was, I had to add an epilogue that ultimately brought them crashing back down to earth, so to speak. And who knew then that everything would go to hell in a hand basket a few months and a couple of seasons later.
This is definitely one of my favourites out of the collection. I recall spending a lot of hours agonizing over this one before deeming it complete. Ten years later, I can see and appreciate the effort, and it still conjures up feelings of wistfulness about these characters and what could have been.
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