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Title: Complete Summary: Life after Existence. Author's Note: I've been working my way through the season 8 DVD boxed set, now :) Then I made the mistake of looking at season 9. This is a proposed (brief) alternative to the shambles that was that highly unnecessary season. It's all about the vibe, people! It's been almost a week. We've settled into a routine, of sorts. Mulder might as well have moved in, he's over every day. It was obvious from the first night: William is a Daddy's boy. I can't help but smile every time I watch my tiny boy fall quiet in my partner's arms, watchful blue eyes in a wrinkled face. Even though he's a good sleeper, we still can't quite manage to leave him be in the cradle. We've spent too long worrying and waiting for him. Now that he's here, we almost can't bear to be apart. We're stretched out on my bed, laying on our sides, facing each other with William in between. He's in a blue romper suit, kicking his feet, watching Mulder. Always watching Mulder. I think that's half the reason Mulder never wants to leave. And the other half of the reason I catch his eye over the top of William, and I smile. We have spent some nights together, just sharing the bed, holding each other, and though there have no doubt been questions in both our minds, we haven't dared to explore them aloud. Or maybe we simply haven't needed to. I know he's here for me, here for William, no matter what. That's all that matters, for the moment. The days and nights seem to run into each other. After the running and panic of the last weeks of my pregnancy, it takes a while to adjust to the slower pace. Mulder is out of the job and I'm on maternity leave it's the first time I can remember that neither of us has a place to be. Looking after William is the only thing on our schedule. Late that night, we start to discuss future options. He's out of the bureau. No other government agency would ever take him on, not with his record. "Practicing psychologist?" I suggest, starting with the most practical option. He's got the training. I get a little braver. "Consultant in paranormal phenomena?" "I hear the Lone Gunmen are looking for a new copy writer," he deadpans, then grins to show me he's just kidding. He could do so much, and yet, I can't imagine any ordinary job satisfying him. Gazing at William, his expression sobers. "Stay at home dad?" My heart skips a beat at that. "Really?" "You've still got a job, Scully. No sense you hanging around here once your maternity leave is up. And you can't leave the kid with strangers." He's right I don't want to do it to William, and besides, we don't even know yet if the danger is truly over. I know that with Mulder here, I'd never be afraid. What other option would give me that security? Still... I'm skeptical. Not about William, but about Mulder. "You want to stay home and change diapers all day?" "More than that, Scully. This is an impressionable young mind. Don't discount what can be learned." I smile despite myself. "You're not going to tell him all about the government conspiracy." Mulder brushes that suggestion away with a grin. "No. But by age two he'll be able to recount the scoreboxes of every major league baseball game ever played." I lean across to kiss him, I can't help myself. I'm so grateful that he's here, that I can feel safe. We draw back, and I smile again, wishing there was some way to put it all into words. He sees William has fallen asleep. Scoops him up, takes him over to the cradle and tucks him in with precious familiarity. Comes back to me to drop a goodnight kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow." "Don't be silly, Mulder." I catch his arm and tug him down. "It's almost one in the morning." So he stays. Kicks off his jeans, slides into the bed and draws me into his arms. I draw him around me, run my hands over his scars and muscles, feeling secure in the intimacy. "I want you to stay," I murmur, already half asleep but wanting to tell him now before I forget. "I'm right here." "No." I take his hand in mine and kiss the knuckles. "Stay for good." A sleepy half chuckle from him. "I thought you'd never ask." Three weeks later, I go back to work. I've been reassigned, doing pathology lectures at the academy. The students all know my reputation. I'm Mrs Spooky. I come home at night to find the Knicks playing, dinner forgotten on the stove as Mulder treats William to a running commentary. I smile and give them another half hour while I take a bubblebath to unwind, then over dinner I share tidbits I've gleaned from my day with Mulder, and that night we get intimate or talk or just hold each other close. Mulder talks about writing a book. Publishing essays. Consulting. Options available to him to both of us now that are different from before, from what we expected, but that doesn't make them any less fertile. I'm not afraid of the future. In it, I see my son's first birthday, I see pre-school and junior baseball games and learning about dinosaurs and the planets. I can't imagine anybody better equipped to take William through that. I watch Mulder with our son, and I know that he'll do whatever it takes to protect him. He'll make the most of this opportunity because he understands fathers and sons, and the impact that one generation has on the next, the legacy. Jobs even our precious x-files will pass away, but our baby, this child we have created, will play his role in generations to come. I lie awake in my bedroom, and I smile as I listen to two sets of breathing. And I'm complete. Fin.
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