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Title: A Life Well Lived Summary: Mulder is presented with different alternatives to the life he is leading. Author's Notes: I have to admit, I just saw the Family Man last night and that had a lot of influence on this particular story. "Hmmmm." My head is pounding. I don't want to open my eyes, afraid the light I can sense through my eyelids will make the pounding worse, if that's possible. I stretch my arm out beside me, and feel only cold metal make contact with my fingertips. Suddenly, I sit up straight, then crash back down to the cold metal table I am laying upon, which I got a glimpse of when I briefly opened my eyes on the way up. My body is weak and my muscles ache. The headache rears its ugly head again, as if I could forget it was there, behind my eyes, searing into my skull. I take deep breaths, trying not to panic, trying to remember my FBI training. Very slowly, I open my eyes. I have to keep blinking to keep them from tearing up as I squint to look around the room. It is all metal, some sort of chamber, very cold. I shiver involuntarily, as I try to remember how I got here. But I can't, no matter how hard I try to call up to mind the events that lead me here, I can't remember. I close my eyes again, and fall into to a fitful sleep full of shadow nightmares and glowing lights. When I awaken, I can sense that I am not alone in this cold, metal room. Slowly this time, I turn my head in the direction from which I can sense the presence. He looks familiar, tall and solid, with light hair and a strong jaw. I close my eyes and search my mind for this face, a face I know I have seen before. And then I remember. "Scully!!!!" I scream, as I fly to a sitting position again. "She cannot hear you," the alien bounty hunter tells me. As I turn to look at him again, I realize that the headache is gone, and while I am still a bit week, I don't ache anymore. I slowly look around the room again. This is the same room I was in when I awoke the last time. I slowly stand to my feet. "What I am doing here? How long have I been here?" I ask him. "It is not important," he tells me nonchalantly. "It is important to me!" I yell at him. He doesn't move, he doesn't even flinch, just continues staring at me with shrouded eyes. I can't tell what he is thinking or feeling, his face is a mask...as it has always been. I continue to stand my ground, with help from the table behind me. I won't give in, but neither will he. Finally, he turns slightly and I see a door behind him. I take one step at a time, and finally I reach the wall by the door. When I am standing face to face with the alien bounty hunter, I turn and look at him. Not even a muscle has he moved, and he stares at me as I turn back to the door and make my way out. The outer room is as cold as the inner room, dark and metal. There is another table. As I walk toward it, I notice clothing, my clothing, and my badge and gun. I turn around to question him, but he is gone. I look back at the clothing, and for the first time, I notice that I have none on. I shiver again, and quickly put the clothes on. Just as I holster my gun, one of the doors on the opposite wall opens. The alien bounty hunter is back. "Come with me," he says, then turns and goes back out the door. "That's it?" I yell. "I don't get an explanation or even an 'It's been nice working with you'?" I am not sure what I am expecting to hear, they have never given me anything before, why should this time be any different. I take one last look around, then follow him out the door. I follow him down another dark, metal corridor into a room that looks like something out of a science fiction movie. There are screens, buttons, and lights all over panels. No one else is in sight. "So, where are all your little gray friends?" I ask, too mad to be rational. "Was there a two for one at the local theatre? Did someone forget to let you know?" I spin around the room again, cataloguing it in my memory, hoping it will be there when I try to recall it later. "Or was it ladies night at the bar?" I am facing him again, and his expression hasn't changed. "I would have expected more from you," he tells me in his monotone voice. "Here we are in the center of your quest, and all you can do is make pathetic jokes." His cold eyes stare at me, and all I can do is drop my gaze. I stare at the panel of screens just to the left of me, not really seeing anything on them. "Isn't this your life?" he asks. "Isn't this what you've wanted? What you have searched for your entire life? What you have sacrificed your life and the lives of others in search of?" His voice seems to taunt me, to poke me and laugh at me, all without one bit of inflection. He doesn't need it. I have heard all of this before. This is the litany of my life, the chorus that has been sung to me and by me every day of my life since I chose this path to walk down, all those years ago. I steel my resolve and face him. He can see it in my eyes, and I can see it reflected back in his. Finally, his face breaks into what I can only call a smile and he chuckles. My eyes go wide with surprise and I take a step back. This is not at all what I was expecting. "Even now, you are ready to defend your life. You don't realize what you have lost, do you?" I know this is a rhetorical question, so I cross my arms and wait for him to continue. He only stares at me with his cold gaze, any sign of the smile and the chuckle long since been erased from his face. "Are you really ready to die for this?" he asks, his arms swinging up as he gestures out to indicate our environment. "That depends on what 'this' is?" I ask, trying to buy myself some time to think about what he is trying to tell me. "It is the end of your quest," he yells, then slams his fist down on the closest console and I jump despite myself. "This is the ship, and alien craft, the evidence of life outside your small star and planets. Isn't this what you have been searching for?" He laughs cruelly. He flings his arms out again and spins 360 degrees. "This is it," he whispers when he is facing me again. Then he draws back and just watches me. I stare back for a few minutes, and then I turn to inspect the room again. I pretend to inspect each little button and light, but my mind is not on what I am seeing. It is flying ahead to where he is going with this little show. Why show me all this then release me? So I can carry on as I have always done, believing now because I have seen, even though others won't believe with me? "Well?" he finally asks. "Well, what?" I retort. Good one, I think to myself sarcastically. "What do you think of the price of your life?" "You're going to kill me, is that what you are saying?" I ask, my voice rising with every word. He shakes his head. "Poor man, you still don't understand. You've sold yourself, and this is the cost." "What is that supposed to mean?" I ask. He laughs again, the same cruel, hollow laugh I have heard from him many times before. He shakes his head again. "You will have to be shown. For an intelligent human, you are slow to understand the essence." "The essence?" I ask. "The essence of what? I understand the essence of you-" "Enough," he says, command in his tone. I freeze where I stand, and he takes a few steps until he is practically nose to nose with me. "You humans, you are not as smart as you think you are. You reach a certain age, and then you cease to learn, you cease to imagine, you cease to really live. Do you really think this," he gestures around with his arms again, "is more important in the end?" I am still frozen in place, just watching him. He steps back. "Follow me," he says, "and you will learn a few things about yourself, your choices, and you life." I take a few steps to follow him, then blackout and collapse to the floor. I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes, noting this time that I am sitting on something soft, well, softer than the metal table. As my vision focuses, I realize that it is dark, but there are some lights off to my left. I turn my head in that direction and notice a beautiful Christmas tree. Its lights are a soft white and I notice tinsel gleaming around them. There are some beautiful old ornaments on the tree mixed in with some handmade ones that look like children's art projects. I stand up to take a closer look. I slowly walk around the tree, and I recognize an ornament. "Hey, I got this ornament from my grandma when I was 10. I remember, Samantha got one just like it," I say. I turn back the way I came and there is the alien bounty hunter. "What is this?" I ask. I slowly spin around the room. "I don't remember this house. This isn't any place I remember from my childhood." I look back at the tree. It is situated in the corner, just off the picture window, it's lights softly reflecting in a part of the window. Next to it is a couch I have never seen before, with a matching love seat across the low coffee table. There is a fireplace on the wall between the two pieces of furniture. I take a step towards it. There are four stockings hanging from the fireplace. I take another step closer. The first has 'Lauren' printed on it in pink glitter, the handwriting that of a child. I reach out and run my fingers over the letters, feeling the rough paint slide beneath them. I move to the next one. It has dark green letters that say 'Nick.' I smile at the flopsey brown ear sticking out one side. The next stocking proclaims that this is 'Mommy's stocking,' written in the same hand as the first stocking, complete with the same pink glitter. Slowly, I turn to look at the last stocking. It says 'Daddy' in the same child-like scrawl, but with gold paint. Peeking out of the corner of this stocking is the corner of a present, wrapped in green and red paper. Gently, I lift the small package from the stocking and look at the tag. Before I see the words, I close my eyes, and I already know what they will say. I saw the glint of gold on my finger in the light of the tree. I turn back to the bounty hunter. "What is this?" I ask softly, gesturing with my hands, present still held by my fingers. "You haven't read the label," he tells me, as if that is an explanation. But what was I expecting, really. They have never dealt straight with me. With shaking hands I bring the package up to inspect it. I take a deep breath and slowly start to open the tag. "Before you read that, know that this is only one of many possibilities, one of the many things you have sacrificed for your quest," the bounty hunter adds. I turn back to say something clever, but he is gone. I spin around, but he is not in the room with me, and I know he is gone...for now. I look back down at the present I still hold in my hands. Finally, I open the little card on the top and read what is written inside. To Mulder, All my love on Christmas Day. To the past and the future. Love, I try to take a deep breath, but suddenly I can't breathe, I can't move. I am frozen again. Then, warm arms are wrapping themselves around my waist from behind. "I woke up and you weren't in bed. I thought I would find you down here, just couldn't wait 'til morning. Just like a big kid," she says then chuckles. "Scully," I find my voice saying. "Merry Christmas, Mulder." She drops her arms and comes to stand in front of me. Her eyes are sparkling in the soft light from the tree. "You can open that one early, if you'd like," she tells me, then drags me over to the sofa. She glances out the picture window. "There is light on the horizon. The children will be up soon." I can't take my eyes off her. She is smiling and happy. She turns back to me and looks right into my eyes. I wonder what she sees. She leans her head slightly and a concerned expression flickers across her face. "Are you all right, Mulder?" she asks. I think about all the times I have asked her that very question. I wonder how many times I have asked her that here, in this life. My life, I guess. I turn to look at the wall opposite the fireplace. There is a bookcase there, with a lifetime of books and pictures cluttering the shelves. Beside it are two framed pictures hanging on the wall, pictures of children my children. I feel Scully lay a hand on my arm. I swing back to her. A smile slowly creeps across my face. I nod. "Yes, Scully, I am all right." She smiles back at me, the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. It takes my breath away. I quickly look back down at my present. Surely if we have been married long enough to have a daughter that can write her own name, she might find it odd that her husband should look at her as if he hasn't seen her smile like that before. "Open it," she urges. I nod again and start to rip into the paper. The open wrapping reveals a small jewelry box. I look back up at Scully. I can read the excitement in her eyes. It begins to take me over, as well. I slowly pop the lid back. My eyes grow round at the ring inside. There is a platinum wedding ring sitting on the satin. Scully reaches around me and picks up the ring. She holds it up for me. "There is an inscription," she tells me. She reaches back to flip on the lamp. I grab her hand and shake my head, not wanting the extra light to show the holes in my dream. That is what this has to be, and I don't want it to end just yet. I lean back slowly and try to read the inscription by the light on the tree. I squint a little and the writing comes into focus. To Mulder, it reads, my love, like this circle, has no end. Merry Christmas. "I know it isn't very original, but it reads the same as my ring, for I feel the same way." She holds out her hand and I slip off the diamond wedding set. I hold it out to the light, knowing what it will say. To Scully. My love, like this circle has no end. Happy Anniversary. I turn back to her and slip the ring back onto her finger, my eyes never leaving hers. She reaches her hand out and gently takes the ring from my hand, sliding off the old band and sliding on the new, her eyes never leaving mine. Slowly, my hands slide up her arms to her face. As I cradle her face, I lean in until I can feel her hot breath on my cheeks. I know the tears in her eyes are reflected back at her in mine. She closes her eyes as I brush my lips against hers, and I feel her shudder as I begin to deepen the kiss. She responds in like, her arms going around my waist as she slides in closer to me. I close my eyes and begin to lose awareness, when all of a sudden she rips away from me. I sit frozen, my brain unable to comprehend what just happened. I can hear Scully's voice, but not the words. I hear a small voice answer, then I hear, "What's wrong with Daddy?" I turn in the direction of the voice. I find myself looking into eyes I see every night in my dreams. I see her eyes staring back at me from a face that looks very much like another little girl I remember from what seems like another lifetime. This girl is tall and lanky with brown hair and her mother's eyes. I smile. "Daddy!" she cries and throws herself into my lap. Her young arms surround me as she snuggles into mine. "Merry Christmas, Daddy," she says. Scully smiles at us, then gets up from the sofa and already I miss her. "I'll go get Nick," she says and then turns and heads out of the room. I realize I have no idea where Nick's room is, or even what city I now live in, but that doesn't seem to bother me as I hold my daughter - mine and Scully's daughter - in my arms. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. She spins around in my arms and looks at my face. "Can we open presents now?" her innocent little voice asks. Suddenly a flash of toddler energy catches my eye just in time to grab Nick as he heads toward the tree. "Nice catch," I hear Scully say. She moves from the hallway into the room and sits on the sofa next to us. Our daughter slides off my lap and into her mother's and I grab the sturdy toddler and pull him up into my lap. He wiggles and Lauren laughs as his limbs thrash about on my lap, but I have a firm hold on him. He quiets for a moment and I close my eyes at the solid feel and faint baby smell of my son. "Mommy, the presents," I hear my daughter whisper, well, she tries to whisper. I smile and lean over toward her. "And you think you were good enough for presents?" I ask. She looks over at me with a blank look. I creep a little closer, depositing Nick on the sofa between Scully and me. "Were you a good girl this year? Did you listen to your parents? Were you nice to your baby brother?" I ask, all the while creeping closer to her. She nods her head, looking very serious. "I was a good girl, Daddy. I really was." "Hmmm, I don't know..." I say, letting my voice drop. There is silence as she contemplates me and my questions. Suddenly I leap toward her and drag her off the sofa with me. I roll so she is sitting on my chest and I start to tickle her. I have to speak louder so my voice can be heard over her giggles. "Was she a good girl, Mommy?" I ask Scully. "Mommy," Lauren calls out between her giggles. She is almost shrieking with laughter. "I WAS A GOOD GIRL," she manages to get out. "Okay, then I guess we have a few presents for you," I say as I stop tickling her. She lays her head down on my chest and inches up to my face. "Let's get Mommy," she child-whispers in my ear. "Oh, no, I don't think so," I hear Scully say. She leans over and picks up Nick, who was watching his sister get tickled with fascination. "I have the baby," she says as Lauren and I get up off the floor. Scully stands up quickly, Nick still in her arms. She backs away from us. Nick, fascination having wore off enough to realize he was in someone arms when he could be walking around on his own looking for trouble, starts to wiggle. "Have you no shame," I say, "using the baby as a defense." Nick is thrashing around now, and Scully has no choice but to put the toddler down on the ground. She sets him down and turns to make run for it. Lauren follows, but I step over the low coffee table and meet Scully before she can go very far. My momentum takes us both down. Soon, Scully is giggling and trying to yell 'stop it' while Lauren and I tickle her. Nick bounces over and jumps into the middle of the tangle of limbs, laughing and giggling like the rest of us. I feel the silky satin skin of my wife along with the soft young skin of my children under my fingers as my ears ring with the laughter of love and of life. When we are all exhausted beyond breath, we lay back and I look over at Scully. Her face has a beautiful pink flush spreading over it, and there is no mistaking the happiness staring back at me from the depths of those blue eyes. "Now can we open the presents, Daddy?" my daughter asks me. I take a deep breath. "Now you can open the presents, Lauren." She jumps up to her feet and drags Nick to his. She runs over to the tree, yelling at Nick to look at all the presents. He follows on less steady feet. I turn to find Scully at my side. I stand up and spin around to offer her my hand. She accepts it and I pull her up into my arms. I begin to glide, as if music played in the background. She smiles up at me, and all my fears and doubts melt away under the radiance of her smile. I glide her toward the stereo and lean over to turn on some soft Christmas music. I hum with it as we move in rhythm with the music. "Mommy! Daddy! Thank you!" I hear Lauren yell. I realize how thankful I am to have a daughter who can read. A lazy smile spreads across my face. The morning is spent knee deep in wrapping paper and thankful kisses. Lauren and I put Barbie's new house together. Nick and I do some building. Well, I build. Nick is more into demolition. I am sitting in a heap of baby doll clothing, helping Lauren decide what Lucy should wear when it hits me. This is a life I have sacrificed to my quest. I quickly look around for the bounty hunter. I don't see him, and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. I turn back to Lauren. "I think Lucy would look great in her pink party dress." "But Daddy," Lauren patiently explains, "she wants to go outside to play today and her mommy won't let her wear that dress outside. She might get it all dirty." "Oh, I see," I tell her, smiling at the look on her face as she focuses on the task at hand. I've seen that look before, on a woman I once worked with. That thought puts another in my head. What do I do? Are we still on the X-Files? Are we still FBI Agents? "Lauren, what do you say we play a little game?" I ask. "What kind of game?" she asks. That's my girl, I think. "An information game. And if you can answer all the questions, we'll...we'll...." I look around the room, searching. And then my eyes light on the window and a snow-laden tree in the yard beyond. "We'll go sledding." "Yeah! Okay, Daddy." She gets up and crawls into my lap, the still-naked Lucy held tight in her arms. "What's your name?" I ask. I figure I might as well cover all the bases. "That's easy, Daddy. I am Lauren Samantha Mulder. And that's Nicholas William Mulder," she says, pointing to where Nick is happily munching on his blocks. "And you are Fox William Mulder and Mommy is Dana Katherine Scully. She has a different last name because she is a doctor," the little girl supplies with little girl logic. "And what do I do?" I ask. "You go to school, just like me." "I go to school?" I ask. "Well, not kindergarten, like me, but big people's school. You are a teacher," she says. "What is the name of your school?" "Eleanor Roosevelt Elementary School. And you go to Georgetown University." "Ah, a professor," I say, more to myself. "Yes, a professor," she repeats. "That's it." "And Mommy's a doctor." She nods. "At a hospital." While I am processing this information, Lauren is telling me a story about a trip she made with Nick and me to see Mommy at work in the hospital. I hold her tight in my lap and listen to her sweet voice, and I can't imagine anywhere else I want to be. Until I hear the grownup version. "Come on, guys, brunch is ready." Lauren stands up and runs into the dining room. I stand up and grab Nick. He begins to protest, but I am moving too swiftly for him to do much about it. I strap him into his highchair while Scully puts brunch on the table. I slide his chair in, and then I slide in Lauren's. I sit down just as Scully slides into the chair opposite me. "Merry Christmas," she tells me. "Merry Christmas," I tell her back. "Merry Christmas," Lauren echoes. Then we each dig into a wonderful Christmas brunch. After the meal, Scully tells me that she and Lauren will clean up, and I get to put Nick down for his nap. "Just grab the new books he got for Christmas to read to him on your way up. I unstrap a very messy toddler and start to take him from the dining room. "And don't forget to change his diaper," I hear her call. "Well, Nick," I say as I lean down to grab the books. "Dada," he tells me. "Yes, that's right," I tell my 18-month-old son, no longer thinking it odd that I do indeed have an 18 month old son. "Book," he says as he tries to grab hold of the books I have in my other arm. "Hold on, Nicky. We have to get you cleaned up first, Mommy's orders." "Mamamamama," he tells me, a serious look on his messy round face. I nod and he starts to laugh. Now my son is even laughing at me, I think. We stop in the bathroom and I quickly clean him up, then onto his bedroom, where I attempt to change his diaper. Two diapers and a bit of tape later, we settle in the rocking chair together. I open the cover of the first book and begin to read. "To Nicholas William. Merry Christmas, love Mommy and Daddy. Christmas 2004." I continue to read the story, something about a squirrel gathering nuts for the winter, but I don't really hear the words my mouth is saying. 2004, that's the year. And Lauren is in kindergarten, making her five or six. I am finished reading the book and look down at Nick. He is fast asleep. I hold him for a few minutes before placing him in his crib for his nap. I set the books on the shelf by the door and quietly close the door behind me. I can hear my girls downstairs, laughing as they clean the kitchen and living room. I quietly sneak into my daughter's bedroom. It looks like the typical little girl's room, pink walls and dolls and clothes strewn about. I see pictures of her as a baby, some with Scully and a few with me. I quietly leave her room and head into the master bedroom. It is tidy, just like I would expect Scully to keep it. On one wall is the bed, across from it is a dresser. I walk over to the dresser, littered on top with pictures. This is the history I was hoping to find, part of it at least. There are many pictures of the children; one with them both outside on a Summer day, another with Lauren dressed up for a play of some sort. There is a family photo of the four of us, then a larger family photograph. I pick that one up, wondering who all these people are. I see the four of us, with Nick barely able to sit up by himself. Next to Scully is Melissa! I blink my eyes then look down at the photo in my hand again. Yes, that is Melissa, Scully's sister. My eyes swing to my side of the picture. My mom and dad are sitting there, but not Samantha. So that much had happened then. Okay. Next to Melissa are Bill and his wife and their son, Matthew. At least, I am guessing it is Matthew. Scully's mom is behind Melissa, with Charlie and his family arranged beside her. "Do you remember what a nightmare that was, getting everyone together for the picture? I am so glad we did it, though. Who knows when that will happen again, everyone in one place." I turn to find my wife standing in the door. "Lauren informs me that you told her you were going to do some sledding this afternoon. Don't forget that the family is coming over around 4. Lauren needs to clean her room before she can go sledding, so while I help her do that, you might want to take your shower." She takes steps to close the empty space between the two of us, and, raising up on her tiptoes, she plants a kiss on my lips. But before I can grab her, she is gone, off to our daughter's room to make sense out of madness. I turn and place the picture back on the dresser. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the water. As it begins to steam up the bathroom, I slip off my clothes and slide into the spray. The hot water feels great pounding upon my flesh, which is a comfort I am sure I will be missing soon as I think about the sledding adventure I have promised my daughter. I turn off the water, step out of the shower, then go off in search of the warmest clothes I can find. As I am pulling a huge sweater over my head, I feel little hands try to circle my waist. "Ready, Daddy?" she asks. I slide the sweater on the rest of the way and wink at her. She runs off, giggling and I can hear her pounding down the stairs. Scully walks in, looking tired but content. "So, is Lucy dressed and happily home?" I ask. Scully smiles up at me. "All is well in the land of Lauren," she tells me. She slides in close to me. I wrap my arms around her and enjoy just holding her. She pulls lose and brushes her lips across mine. "Have fun in your winter wonderland." She steals one more quick kiss then heads off into the bathroom. I watch her leave, a smile stretching my face. "Da-ddy!" I hear a hushed voice from downstairs say. "Coming," I call back, trying to do it quietly. I meet my daughter on the back porch. She hands me some snow pants and a coat, then pulls on her own boots, while I quickly follow suit. Once we are all gloved and scarved, she takes my hand and we head toward a park I can see down the street. We hear a few children calling to each other on the quiet residential street, but all is fairly quiet on this Christmas afternoon. Lauren leads me to the hill and informs me on the best way down. We squish onto the plastic sled and ride it out to the bottom. The afternoon passes quickly in this manner, and before I know it, we have to head home. Some of the kids started a snow ball fight, and I found out what an arm my daughter has. We both trudge back to the house, happy and bit chilled. It isn't anything some hot cocoa won't fix, my daughter informs me. We strip off our snow things on the back porch and hang them on hooks to dry. We head into the house, and I can hear Scully talking to Nick in the kitchen. As Lauren rushes in to tell her mother about our adventures in the snow, I stop at the doorway and lean on the jamb. This is it, I tell myself. I have the love of my life, and she has given me two little loves. I glance around the warm kitchen take it all in. My photographic memory had better work this time, I tell myself, trying without much success to push away that familiar empty feeling. When the doorbell rings and Scully's mother and sister enter, I just watch, a quiet Nick in my arms. Soon, Grandma comes to take him, and I am left to watch with empty arms, but not an empty heart. The bell rings again and my parents walk through the door. They might not be happy to be together, but they sure love my children, my house, my home. I watch with delight as the presents are passed around and opened with exclamations of joy. Scully reminds me that Bill and Charlie can't make it this year, and that is why that picture upstairs is so important. We steal a hug and a few kisses before we are drawn back into the excitement. As I watch the faces of these loved ones, I see something I haven't seen in a long time. I have a feeling of family, a sense of rightness that I can't explain. I pull Scully into my lap as her mother reads Twas the Night Before Christmas. Nick fell asleep in Grandma's lap, and as I take his solid weight in my arms, I am reminded of the life that I really live, the one where my father, mother, and Melissa are no longer alive. I think about the life I lead with no children, and barely Scully. As I walk up the stairs with Nick in my arms, I realize that I must never fall asleep. And even as I watch the face of my sleeping son, cover him with blankets, kiss his face and wish him pleasant dreams, I know that I don't have to be sleeping for him to take this away. "Why?" I softly whisper. "To help you realize," his voice answers me. I spin around and he is standing by the doorway to my son's room. "I will give you the rest of this night, but no more. I will come for you, so make your peace with this life you have forsaken." I turn back around to see that Nick is still asleep, and when I turn to face him again, he is gone. I walk from the room with a heavy heart. As I start down the stairs, I can hear the voices of my family lifted up in simple Christmas choruses. And I realize if this is all the time I have left here, I don't want to spend it feeling sorry for myself. I rush down the stairs and join in the celebration, with my daughter on my lap and my arm around my wife. And when my family rises to leave, I give each a hug and a kiss, knowing that I will not be seeing some of them again. I gently carry Lauren upstairs and tuck her into bed. Scully comes to stand beside me. I gently reach out and wrap my arm around her legs and she leans into me as we stand there, staring at our sleeping daughter. "She has had a long day. She held up pretty well," Scully says. "Of course, we Mulders are made of tough stuff," I say, gently brushing the hair from her face with my free hand. "She is a miracle, isn't she, Mulder." I can detect a hint of something in her voice, a bit like awe. She kneels down next to me by Lauren's bed. "They left me barren, Mulder." She turns her face away, then turns it back, tears bright in her eyes. I pull her into my arms and she lets it out quietly. This is a side to Scully I don't get to see very often. This Scully has let me in. "It took the doctors 2 years and more surgeries then I want to count, all in search of that one elusive egg. That's Lauren, she's the one that got away." I can feel her gentle laughter, then she pulls away from me. "Peace, that is what she has given us. Peace, that is what she is, our laurel, our victory, and our peace." I take Scully's hand in mine and stand up, pulling her up along with me. "And Nicholas," she continues, "he was a miracle all in himself. Another victory." "And after they returned you...we got married, and quit the X-Files," I say, pieces falling together. "Yes, I know it was a hard decision for you. Do you regret it?" The look on her face melts my heart and I easily shake my head, meaning it with every fiber of my being, with my very essence. I lead her down the hallway and into our room. We both silently change and crawl into bed. "Ah, Christmas takes so much out of me," I hear her whisper. "Will you hold me?" I wrap my arms around her and settle in for the night. She relaxes against me and soon I hear the steady rhythm of her breathing. "Peaceful dreams, Scully, my love," I whisper, and try to keep my eyes open as long as I can. But that is a battle I can't fight for long, and I slip quietly into a dreamland that can never be more than what I have experienced this day. And when I open my eyes, it is all gone, as I knew it would be. I am standing once again in the control room of what the bounty hunter refers to as the mother ship. He is staring at me, a faint smile on his lips. "Well?" "Well, what?" I ask angrily. "You give me all that, let me experience it, then take it away and expect me to be grateful? You son of a b-" "Did you learn nothing?" he asks me, a touch of inflection touching is his voice at last. "That is a life you cannot now have. That time has passed you by. It is only the essence you must remember. Keep in mind what your journey has cost you." I open my mouth to retort, and he swings up his hand. "Stop. You will learn nothing by insulting me." I close my mouth. I hang my head in defeat. I have been given a taste of something I like very much, then told there is no more, ever. I slowly shake my head, then look back up into the bounty hunter's eyes. He does one sharp nod with his head then turns to go. "We are not done yet," he calls back over his shoulder, and I drop to the floor, this time wondering where I will awaken. Again I find myself on something soft, very soft. I slowly open my eyes, wondering what I will see. Scully's apartment. I sit up straight and spin in the armchair I have found myself in. Yes, this is Scully's apartment, just like I remember it. I quickly stand up and walk around the room. I don't see any pictures of Lauren and Nick. I press my eyelids together to keep the tears at bay. That was a different life, I try to tell myself. But this is Scully's apartment. So, I still know her, it can't be too bad. I slowly turn in a circle. Along the back wall of the living room is a familiar object - my couch. I walk over to it and take a seat. Yes, this is my couch. "But what is it doing in Scully's apartment?" I expect a reply from my very own Ghost of Christmas' nightmare, but he stands silently by the front door. I look up at him expectantly. He turns toward the dining area and I follow his gaze. There stands a little Christmas tree. Slowly, I stand up and walk toward it. "My ornament is on this tree as well," I tell him, turning with it in my hand. He is gone. "Good riddance," I mutter. I take in the kitchen, living room, and dining room again, and I begin to notice little things, books and a few pictures, memorabilia from my life mixed in with the dcor of her apartment. I quickly glance down at my hand - no wedding band. I slowly make my way to the door of her bedroom. She is sound asleep in the bed, sheets twisted around her body. But she and her pillows are on one side. Next to the empty side of the bed there is a nightstand, and upon that nightstand is a book I remember buying a while back with the intention of reading it when I got a chance. I walk toward it, realizing as I do that this is my side of the bed. Next to the book is a small picture in a silver frame. I pick it up to inspect it. It is of the two of us. It looks like a Summer day, and the background is possibly her mother's backyard. She is standing in front of me and my arms are draped around her, we are both smiling toward the camera. I set the picture back down and walk over to the closet. I open the door quietly. My clothes are on one side, hanging next to a beautiful dress I hope to see Scully in one day. I run my hand through her clothes and can smell a soft ghost of a scent in the air. Her perfume. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I shut the closet door and walk over to the dresser. There are a few more pictures of us and pictures of Scully's family. I see one of Bill, Jr., and his family. Matthew is growing up fast. By the look of it, he is about 3 years old, which means this is the very next Christmas. I haven't missed much time in this timeline. I quietly open each drawer, enjoying the freedom I have been granted in Scully's bedroom, our bedroom. Her drawers are full of soft fragrant clothing and I blush slightly when I stumble upon the drawer with her under garments. A smile creeps upon my face. I open the top drawer on my side. I recognize my clothing and am about to shut the drawer when something catches my eye. Nestled in between the rows of socks is a small box. I pull it out and shut the drawer, trying to stay quiet. I slip out of the room and back into the living room and make myself comfortable on my couch. I sink down into the cushions, my eyes never leaving the small box in my hand. I think I already know what is inside. Gently, I pop the lid open and my eyes go wide with what I see. This is the same ring I supposedly picked out for Scully in the last vision or parallel world or dream. I carefully pick it up to hold between my fingers. The faint light from the Christmas tree makes the diamonds gleam. A slow smile creeps across my face as I notice there is an inscription on the inside. To Scully: My love, like this circle, has no end. Merry Christmas. I feel my eyes start to water. What will happen in this timeline, if I am allowed to stay? I want to find out, to live it, here with my love, my life. But I know he will not let me stay. I feel my hand tighten into a fist around the ring. After I have calmed myself down, I put the ring back in its box and softly walk back into the bedroom. I replace the ring in my drawer and sit down on the bed. I hear Scully murmur in her sleep and she rolls over to face me, her eyes still closed. Gently, I lay down on the bed next to her, facing her. I reach out one hand and smooth it over her brow, pulling her hair away from her face. She looks so peaceful and I wonder what fills her dreams. She reaches out in her sleep and her hand closes over my arm. I can only watch her, my own hand still lying on her face. After a while, she murmurs something else, then turns and nestles herself into the arm I still have over her. I gently slide her in closer to me, until I can feel the warmth of her back against my chest through her nightclothes. I slide my other arm under her and hug her to me. I feel my breath catch in my chest as tears slide down my cheeks and land in her hair. I pray that I don't disturb her peaceful sleep as I cry myself into oblivion. There is hair tickling my cheek when I open my eyes. Sunlight is peeking in around the blinds on the window opposite the bed. Scully is still in my arms, sound asleep. I let out a huge sigh and bury my face in her hair, closing my eyes. It must be Christmas morning now, and I have this one day to spend with her. When I open my eyes this time, the bed is empty. I am overcome with despair, thinking that I have missed my one day somehow, that he has taken me while I sleep. Then I hear a banging sound coming from the direction of the kitchen. I slide out of bed and open the drawer that holds the ring. I slip it into my pocket, hoping she won't find it before I am ready to give it to her. I tiptoe on silent feet into the dining room and stand in the shadow of the tree, just watching her. She is stunning. With ruffled curls and wrinkled pajamas, she is still the most beautiful sight I have ever beheld. I slide up behind her and put my arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. She steps back into my embrace and I can feel each heartbeat, hers and mine. "Merry Christmas," she whispers softly. "Did I wake you?" "Merry Christmas," I reply, "and there is no other place I would rather be." "You looked so peaceful this morning. I thought I would make some breakfast before I woke you." She turns in my arms and kisses me passionately before slipping out of my embrace and opening the refrigerator. I lean back against the table and just watch her. She makes us each an omelet and toast. I reach for two glasses and pour some orange juice, then we sit down to breakfast together, on Christmas morning. As I sit, I can feel the box in my pocket rub against my leg. A smile stretches across my lips at the thought. "Mulder, what is it?" Scully asks, seeing the smile on my face. "I am enjoying your presence on this wonderful morning," I say out loud, chastising myself in my head for not having done this much sooner. I have seen the results of just such a life. After breakfast, I help her clean up the kitchen. "Mulder, I have to make the pie that we are taking to my mom's later. Why don't you go ahead and shower, and I'll join you when it is in the oven." She smiles seductively and I feel as if my face will crack with all the smiling I have been doing lately. I turn on the shower and feel the spray of water getting hotter upon my hand. When it is hot enough, I step out of my clothes and into the spray. Unfortunately, Scully doesn't get a chance to join me before the water starts to cool. I am almost a prune now. Reluctantly, I turn off the water and towel off. I have just gotten my jeans on when she comes into the room. "Sorry, Mulder. That was Mom. She was about to make the mashed potatoes when she noticed they had all grown roots. That was her on the phone, and I agreed to make them, so I was peeling them while you finished your shower. Any hot water left?" she asks. I shake my head, trying not to let my disappointment show. I am looking down, making a pretense of finding my socks when I see it, the box. I quickly bend down and grab it, sticking it in my back pocket now, so she can't see it. She doesn't notice. She is looking out the window and the sunlight streaming in is framing her silhouette. Again she takes my breath away. "I love you," I hear, barely said above a whisper. She turns to look at me, and then I realize it was my voice that said those words. The smile on her lips lights up her eyes as she walks toward me. Her arms go around my waist and I hear her murmur, "I love you, too," against my chest. "We haven't exchanged gifts yet this morning, Scully," I say, deciding to let the moment carry me away. "No, we haven't. Go into the living room, Mulder," she says, looking up into my eyes. "I will bring your gift out to you." She brushes her lips against mine, then turns and opens the closet. I am glued to the spot on the floor upon which I am standing. I don't want to let her out of my sight, even for a minute. "Go on," she says, waving her hand in the direction of the door when she notices I haven't left yet. I grin at her stupidly, then head off like an obedient puppy. I head directly for my couch and make myself comfortable, slipping the ring box between the cushions. A few minutes later, I hear her footsteps then she is standing in front of me with a box in her arms. She seats herself on the couch next to me, quirking up her eyebrow at my choice of the old couch over her comfortable furniture. She then sends me a smile that warms me and sends a shiver down my spine at the same time. She hands me the box then sits back to watch me. I look at the package. It is wrapped in gold paper, a gold that reminds me of the letters on a stocking... But I am losing my train of thought. I am still here, with Scully, and this is where I want to be. No use mourning over what can never be, but learn from it and move on. I want to spend this time with Scully, the true love of my life. I feel a hint of approval from a presence around me. I look back up at Scully, but it isn't coming from her. I look back over my shoulder quickly, and breathe a sigh of relief when no one is there. "Are you okay, Mulder?" Scully asks, looking over my shoulder, expecting to see whatever it was that grabbed my attention. "Yes, I'm fine." To draw her attention back to us, I pick up the package and shake it. It doesn't rattle and is fairly light. I have no idea what this could be, and look back up at Scully. "Open it, Mulder." I nod and begin to tear into the wrapping. It reveals a plain cardboard box. "Thanks, Scully. I have always wanted one of these," I say. She giggles, a sound I want to hear coming from her far more often. "Keep going," she says. I grin at her and pull the tape off the opening flaps of the box. Inside are a bunch of packing peanuts. Through them I have a glimpse of something electric blue. I slowly pull it out, a little nervous about receiving anything in this shade of blue, especially from Scully. I continue to pull it out, and recognize it as a bra. I hold it up to my chest. "Do you think it's my size?" I ask. I am rewarded with another giggle. "There's more," she tells me. I reach down into the box and pull out something else electric blue. "A pair of panties?" I ask feeling very confused. "Keep going," she says, rewarding my efforts with a gorgeous smile and hint of something more in her eyes. "There better be a coupon for a free bikini wax in here," I say, and hear another round of giggles from the other side of the couch. I reach into the box and my fingers close over some paper, a packet of some sort. I pull it out and see that it is a packet of airline information, along with the brochure of a hotel in Hawaii. "Maui?" I ask. "It is so cold and snowy here and you tease about taking off sometime and going somewhere warm, relaxing on a beach..." "And you want me to wear this?" I ask, holding up the bikini. She schooled her features into a serious face I remember from what seems like ages ago now and nods her head. "Yes, Mulder, but you might want to pull the straps down when you lay out. It helps with tan lines." She turns her head away and I can see her shoulders shaking from the laughter she is trying to hide. "Should I go model it for you?" I ask. She loses it, her laughter ringing out in the apartment we share. She turns back to me and her eyes sparkle like the diamonds I have hidden in the jewelry box in this couch. "I made the plans to go during your Spring Break. I have already put it on my schedule at the hospital and they have no problem with that." She takes the box from my lap and sets it on the floor. While she tidies up, my mind is racing. She's a doctor and I am a professor, again. When did we quit the X-Files this time? I can feel her eyes on me. "Do you like it?" she asks, her voice a bit hesitant. I look into her eyes and I hope the love I see there is reflected in mine. "It is perfect," I tell her in a voice husky with emotion. "And I believe my present will go perfect with that." "Did you get me a bathing suit also? You really shouldn't have," she says, laughter brimming in her eyes again. "Well, it's not a bikini, but it is something you can wear on our trip." I reach behind me and pull the box out from between the cushions. I slide off the couch to sit at her feet. I pull the box out from behind me and set it in the palm of her hand. "Merry Christmas, Scully," I whisper. She draws in her breath quickly when she recognizes it as a jewelry box. Slowly, with slightly shaking hands, she opens the box. "Oh, Mulder," she breaths, "it is beautiful." I kneel next to her and gently take the box from her hands. I slip the ring out and slide it onto her finger. "Not half as beautiful as its owner," I whisper, not able to get my voice out any louder. "Will you marry me, Scully?" She nods as tears run down her cheeks. I pull her onto the floor next to me and hold in my arms. "I love you," I continue to murmur as I stroke her hair. Finally, I pull back so I can see her face. I lift my hands up and wipe her tears away with my thumbs. "Is that a yes?" I ask. "Yes, Mulder," she whispers. "How about making that trip to Hawaii a honeymoon?" I ask, knowing it is a trip I won't be making in this lifetime. She nods again, then buries herself in my arms, nestling her head on my chest. I take a deep breath, and smell something funny. "Scully," I say, hating to break the moment, "do you smell that?" "The pie!" she exclaims as she jumps out of my arms and rushes to the kitchen. I follow at a slower pace and arrive just as she is pulling it out of the oven. "It looks good, just a little burnt at the edges," I try to reassure her. She turns to me and rolls her eyes. "At least we still have the potatoes," she says, motioning to where the potatoes are gently boiling on the stove. "I set them low so they wouldn't boil over...wish I had thought to set the oven timer." I pull her into my arms again, and her arms circle my waist. "Just like this circle, my love never ends," I whisper. I could have stood there forever, but Scully pulls out of my arms and looks at the clock. "Mulder! I have to take a shower and mash the potatoes and the presents haven't been wrapped yet and we have to be at my mother's in two hours, and with driving time we might make it if we move it now!" She whips past me and into the bedroom, only to return a few minutes later with her arms full of gifts and brightly colored wrapping paper. "I need you to wrap these while I take a shower and get dressed. Then we have to mash those potatoes," she tells me she turns off the heat under them. I frown at the presents on the table. "Each one is marked somewhere on the package, don't forget to label them after you wrap them," she throws back over her shoulder. I watch her disappear around the corner and hear the water start in the shower. I frown back at the presents, hoping they might also disappear and maybe make Scully reappear in their place... Back to the task at hand, I tell myself, as I reach for the closest package. It is a set of Legos for Matthew. There is also a sweater for Tara and a set of candlesticks for her mother, among other things strewn up on the table. As I wrap them, my mind wanders, and I wonder how I got here. I wonder what choices in my life led me to this particular time line. I am reminded of a discussion I once had with Scully upon this topic, and I wonder if that happened here, in this life. I feel someone watching me, and I look up, afraid I'll see his face. She is watching me instead. "What are you thinking about?" she asks as she sits down across from me at the table. "Nothing in particular," I tell her. I smile at her, but she must see something else in my face. "I know the holidays are hard for you, especially now that your family is gone," she says, reaching out to take my hands in her own. I tuck away that bit of information. "Does it help, now that you have resolved Samantha's disappearance?" I also tuck that bit away, and I know about how much of my life before I have lived here, in this time. I don't say anything, just sit with her hands in mine, watching her. "Do you regret leaving the X-Files after...after that case?" she asks. I shake my head and squeeze her hands. "No, that is one choice I don't regret," I tell her, again meaning it with every ounce of my soul, my essence. She smiles at me, then looks at the packages I have wrapped while she was in the shower. "Good job, Mulder. I think you can finish those up in the time it will take me to mash the potatoes." She squeezes my hands then releases them as she stands up. She walks over to the counter and begins to hum a Christmas carol softly as she works. My hands take up the task set before me as my mind again begins to wander. I - we left the X-Files after the case with the walk-ins, the one where I found my sister in starlight. Well, that makes sense, I had solved the biggest mystery of my life, my quest for my sister. And look what I gained. The car ride to her mother's was silent, but it was peaceful, with the snow on the trees and ground gleaming up at us in the soft sunlight. The two of us, we don't need words. We communicate in a language only the two of us understand, a silence laden with things left unsaid because they don't need to be said. I am on her mother's street before I realize it. I pull up in front of the house and help her unload the car, making the second trip for the rest of the packages by myself, while Scully enjoys a round of hugs from her family as she shares our news. When I get to the door, her mother holds it open. I walk into the living room and set the packages under the tree. I stand back up and find her mother's arms around me. "Merry Christmas, Fox," she says. "Congratulations, I know how happy you make my daughter, and how happy she makes you." Then she turns and walks back into the kitchen. I follow her and find the Scully family busy at work, preparing the table for the afternoon meal. "Merry Christmas," Tara says in my direction, "and congratulations." Bill just nods and goes about his job, placing a napkin on each plate. "Merry Christmas," Matthew says, running over to hug my legs. I have seen this child once, in my timeline anyway, but he seems comfortable with me. Give him time, I think to myself, glancing over at his father. "Charlie can't make it this year," Scully says as she passes by with a platter of turkey headed for the table. "All right, everyone," Mrs. Scully says, getting everyone's attention. Scully takes my hand and leads me to the table. Each person stands behind the chair at his or her designated spot. I remember that Melissa isn't here, and wince a little at the thought. Each choice, I think to myself. I find myself between Scully and her mother. Safe ground, I think. Mrs. Scully reaches for my hand and then bows her head to pray. Her prayer is a simple one, thanks for a home and family and the love that surrounds us. I hear the words in my head and my heart as I squeeze Scully's hand, so warm and soft in mine own. I feel her squeeze back. The meal is spent with good food and delightful conversation. Scully and her brother recall family traditions and past Christmases. Whenever Melissa's name is mentioned, I feel a tinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach. After the meal and a quick clean up time, the family heads into the living room to open presents. I am impressed that Matthew has waited this long. Then it comes out; he has already opened all his presents from his parents and his grandma. Amid the laughter and the wrapping paper, I feel a sense of family. Scully had reminded me to mark all the presents from both of us. And now I know why, as a few presents are passed my way. Though they might not all like me, they know I am a part of Scully's life and they accept me into the family, albeit reluctantly on the part of Bill, as I can tell by the way he glances over at Scully and me from time to time. Bill starts up a fire in the fireplace and the time is passed singing Christmas carols and telling stories. Matthew falls asleep on his father's lap, and I hold Scully close to keep the emptiness at bay. I try to focus on this, for it is as real as anything I have felt in my life. Times flies by, as it tends to do when one really wants to cherish it. Before I realize it, I am standing in the doorway, receiving another hug from Mrs. Scully. We head out the door with well wishes and 'Merry Christmas' following our descent to the sidewalk. I take Scully's hand in mine and lead her to the car. I open the door for her and am rewarded with a kiss before she slips into the seat. I open my door and hop in. I turn the car on and buckle my seatbelt. "Merry Christmas, Mulder," I hear Scully mumble from her seat. I glance over and she smiles at me. She is watching me through droopy lids and I know she isn't going to make it home awake. I smile and turn my eyes to the road in front of us, to the road home. The car ride passes way too quickly. I park the car and get out. I walk over to Scully's side and open the door. She fell asleep before we even hit the highway. I glance back into the back seat. We haven't received anything that won't make it through the night in a cold car. I unbuckle her seatbelt and gently lift her into my arms. Her arms go around my neck and I check to see if she is still asleep; yes, eyes closed, features peaceful, held in the grip of dreamland. I swing the door shut with my leg and head up to the building. She sleeps through it all, safe in my arms, as I march up the steps and out onto her floor. I balance her with my leg while I unlock the door. She murmurs something softly against my neck and I shiver as her breath tickles me. I walk to the bedroom and gently lay her down on the bed. I remove her coat, her socks, and her shoes and she curls up in a ball. I walk back into the living room and hang our coats in the closet. I take one last look around the apartment before going back into the bedroom and removing my own socks and shoes. I slide the blankets down underneath her, then pull them back up over her. I slip in between the sheets and settle my head on the pillow. After a moment of watching her, I put my arm out and slide her in against my chest. Her arms go around me and I hear her sigh. "Merry Christmas, Scully, my love," I whisper. "Merry Christmas," I hear her mumble. I look down, her eyes are still closed and I can tell she is still asleep. I hold her close and fight the sleep what is waiting to descend on me. One more hour, I try to bargain with it. Only one more hour, one more day, one more lifetime. Slowly, my eyelids close and I know I have lost this battle as I fall prey to my own sort of dreamland. As I awaken, I am reluctant to open my eyes, for I know where I am. My arms are empty and I can feel the coldness of the room through every other sense. I don't want my eyes to confirm what the rest of me already knows. "Are you beginning to see?" I hear his voice echo a little in the metal room I know I am now standing in. I open my eyes to allow him to see the pain I am suffering. It is tearing through me, hurting worse than any bullet or knife wound ever has. He nods his head. "Good, you almost have it. And what are you learning?" "I am not your plaything," I tell him, a dark mood settling upon me. "I am not something you can just drop here or fling there whenever you feel like it for your own amusement." That is what you have learned? You humans are a big disappointment. Nevermind. We are not done with you yet." I hang my head down, refusing to rise to the bait, and I feel the familiar light-headedness before I slide back down to the ground and the darkness settles in. As I awaken, I find I am sitting on something that feels very familiar. I run my hand down the cushions next to me. It is my couch. I open my eyes and find myself in an apartment that has most of my furniture and such in it, but it doesn't look familiar to me. I stand up quickly and look around. Yes, I see my desk and the couch and my fish tank. I open the closet by the door. I see my coats and jackets stuffed in with some sporting equipment, but no women's jackets hang there. I slowly close the door, afraid of what I might find in this timeline. I slowly walk to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. Yes, this is my apartment, I think to myself as all I see inside is a carton of milk that looks (and smells) like it has been there for awhile, a cheeseball, and a bottle of ketchup. I close it and turn back to the living room. It has almost no personality, every thing looks neat, tidy, and impersonal. This is quite a change from the apartment I shared with Scully. I slowly walk around, hoping to see some sign of a life I recognize. I walk down the hall, pass the bathroom and go into the first bedroom door. Inside looks like my office, with another desk and a computer, newer than the one I had before. On the wall are my degrees, undergrad and graduate. Bookcases line the walls, crammed full of books on personality, profiling, and the criminal mind. I look back up at my degrees and find a doctorate among them. "Wow." I turn back to the desk, smiling at my apparent accomplishments. On my desk is a file. I sit down and flip open the cover. I settle back into the comfortable leather and skim the pages in front of me. "This is not an X-File," I say as I finish. "This case is about a serial rapist who sends pieces of his victim to their family members. This is sick, it's not normal, but it's not paranormal." I look back at my desk and notice a pad of paper with my scribbling on it. I set the file down and pick up the pad. "I am writing a profile for this case. Did I ever work on the X-Files?" As if in answer, I notice a small plaque on my desk. "The BSU? I never left the behavioral sciences unit..." Suddenly I am on my feet headed for the door. "Scully." As I hit the front door, the phone rings. I run back to grab it. As I hit the talk button I say, "Scully." "Mulder?" I hear the male voice on the other end of the line say. "Is that you?" "Yes, this is Mulder." "Merry Christmas," he says cheerfully. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" I ask suspiciously, anxious to get out of here and go see Scully. "Mulder, it's Archer, your partner. Are you okay?" "What...what did you say?" "This is Ryan Archer, your partner in the BSU at the FBI. Are you feeling all right? Do you want me to come by? You know you are still welcome here for our afternoon meal. I know Sharon and the kids would love to see you. Then you could ride with Sharon and me to Timmons' house for the party." "Party?" I ask, practically whispering. "Don't tell my you've forgotten Timmons, too. He also works for the Bureau, you know, your place of employment. He throws this great Christmas Party every year. You never miss it. Were you out too late last night? Have you got a girl with you?" he asks, his voice taking on a teasing note I am definitely not enjoying. "What time is this party?" I choke out past the lump in my throat. "Same time it always is, Mulder, 7:00pm. Do you want us to pick you up?" "No, no, I'll be fine. It just right over there on..." "Barker Street, in Georgetown." "Right, Barker Street. Okay, so, I'll see you there then." "Yeah, sure, Mulder. Hey, look, call me if you need anything, anything at all. All right?" "Sure, thanks...Archer." "Hey, no problem. That's what partners are for, right. See you tonight." "Yeah." I reach over and place the phone back on its cradle. There is a searing pain ripping through my insides. By not pursuing the X-Files, I have not met Scully. I clench my hands together to try to resist the urge to call her. It is so strong I close my eyes and bite my lip to distract myself. But nothing can distract my mind. I sit down heavily on the couch. I imagine her with her family on this Christmas morning. Melissa will be there, and maybe her father. I can see them all gathering around the tree singing carols, or all dressed up for Christmas Mass. She has no sign of cancer and her fertility isn't in question. She has no thoughts of aliens or black oil or a governmental conspiracy. The Cigarette Smoking man has no place in her life. I can almost be happy for her. I wonder, has she found someone to share her life with? That ache rips through my heart again. Against my will, I pick up the phone. Without conscious thought, I dial her number. A beep comes over the line and then the operator's voice tells me I have dialed an incorrect number. As I set the phone back in the cradle, it rings before I have even lifted my hand from it. I snatch it back up and hold it to my ear, also holding my breath while lifting up a quick prayer to a God I haven't thought about in years. "Fox?" I heard a female voice say on the line. I recognize it immediately. "Hello, Mom," I reply. "I just thought I would call and wish you a Merry Christmas." "Thanks, and Merry Christmas, to you, too." We play the small talk game, she asks how I am and I ask how she is. After a few minutes of polite chatter, we hang up. My thoughts again drift to the Scully family Christmas as I wander aimlessly around my apartment. I find myself back in my study. I notice commendations and citations from the Bureau among the books and notes. It seems I have become the star profiler the FBI had always believed I could be. I wander into the bedroom. By the state it is in I notice that I must also have a cleaning lady. I walk back to the living room and I notice how nice the furniture is and how well it is decorated, my familiar couch being the oldest thing in the room. I sit down on it again, elbows on my knees, face in my hands. I press my fingers against my eyelids. It would appear I have done quite well for myself. The phone rings again. "Hello," I say dully, not expecting the voice that calls my name on the other end. "Merry Christmas, son," the voice tells me. "Dad?" I ask, beyond surprised. "Where you expecting someone else?" he asks. "No-no, of course not." I can't believe my ears as I listen to a voice I haven't heard in years tell me about the winter that is presently hitting his house. We chat for a few minutes, and I almost don't want to let him go. I say my good-bye, wishing there was more I could say to him, knowing I won't be hearing his voice again. And I realize that I won't be hearing my mother's either. And I wonder if I will hear Scully's voice ever again. I sit in a daze most of the afternoon, wondering how I got to this place in my life. All that surrounds me is all I could ask for, materially. I have checked, I have a healthy savings and checking account and a descent portfolio. But all of this is empty, meaningless without her in my life. I finally take a hot shower and begin to get ready for this party. I think back to the parties I had been invited to over the years I spent in the Bureau. This might have even been one of them. No doubt I will recognize people. I wonder if she will be there, and I realize that is the only reason I am even bothering to go. The off chance that I might get even a glimpse of her is worth it, and I don't have anything better to do with my time in this day, anyway. This Christmas Day is gray, reflecting my mood back at me. It is dark outside and when I arrive, I sit in my car for 15 minutes. I don't even have the energy to get up and go inside. I can hear the occasional laughter float out the door as each guest arrives. I was right, I do recognize many of the people heading up the steps, each dressed in holiday formal wear. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying desperately to rid them of the sight of Scully holding our children and helping them unwrap their presents, or the look on her face as I present her with the engagement ring and ask her to marry me. There is a knock on the window and I jerk my head up. Standing outside my car is an agent that looks vaguely familiar and I realize I have probably seen him in the hallowed halls of Ground Zero, the J. Edgar Hoover Building. He is tall but sturdily built, with dark blonde hair and large brown eyes. A pretty woman is standing next to him and they both smile in at me. I sigh a deep sigh and slowly open my door. "Archer, Merry Christmas," I force out, trying to act like I think a normal FBI Agent would. "Mulder, you look awful," he says, smiling at me with a ridiculously happy smile stretched from ear to ear. "You remember Sharon," he says, nodding at the woman standing beside him. "Merry Christmas, Mulder," she says. "Good to see you, again." I merely nod, not really feeling up to conversation at the moment. Archer and his wife turn toward the house and I fall in behind them. "Where is your gorgeous girl of the month, Mulder?" Archer throws over his shoulder. "Still on the calendar, Archer," I shoot back. "Good one," I hear him say before we get to the door. "Come in, come in," a man says, Timmons, I would guess, as he ushers us into the fray. "Archer, Mulder, good to see you guys. And who is this lovely young woman?" Sharon and Archer laugh, and I imagine this is a running joke, a comment used year after year. I paste a smile on my face and follow them to the bar Timmons has set up in one corner of what must normally be his living room. I order a drink and turn to survey the room, hoping to get a glimpse of a redhead that has long since stolen my heart and soul. Almost immediately a tall, gorgeous brunette comes to stand by me, too close for my comfort. She also orders a drink, then turns to look out over the room, as I am doing. "Mulder, you didn't call me," she says, still not looking at me, sipping her drink and watching the crowd. I don't reply, and after a minute of silence, she turns to me. "At least say you never planned on calling. I think I deserve that much," she tells me, her eyes showing sparks of anger. I search my mind for a name to match her face. She looks familiar...yes, that's it. This is Jessica Hartley, another agent at the Bureau. "Yes, Jessica, you do," I say, amazed that my voice holds. "I am sorry, things have been, well, they've been a bit crazy lately." "Yes, Ryan told me about the case you guys are on right now. Sounds gruesome. Look, Mulder, if you get your act back together sometime soon, give me a call." She leans over and brushes her lips across mine. She sets her glass back down on the bar and walks away. I watch her leave, then shake my head. As I wander the room, most people look at me and smile and say hello, calling me Mulder. I hear no weird nicknames, and see no veiled fear or threats in the eyes that greet me. And more than a few of them women look at me suggestively. It would appear I have quite a reputation as a ladies man. Then, from the other side of the room, I get a glimpse of red in the crowd. I make my way towards that glimpse as quickly as the throng of people will allow. Finally, I reach a petite redhead. "Scully," I say softly as I lay my hand on her arm. The face that whirls around to face me is not that of my partner. "Excuse me, can I help you?" the young woman asks. "No-no, I'm sorry, my mistake." I fumble over the edge of the carpet and almost take another agent down with me. And now I remember why I so often chose not to come to these gatherings. I need to get out, to get some fresh air. There are too many people packed into this small space. I make a break for the door. When I get to it, I turn one last time to survey the room. She isn't there. I grab my coat and head out into the night. I stand for a few minutes, taking deep breaths of the clean, cold air. I slowly walk down the steps, heading for my car. I lean against it and close my eyes. Without even calling up the image, I see Scully behind my closed lids. Why did I think she would be here? She would be with her family, celebrating this joyous holiday. I think of the last Christmas we spent together, exchanging simple gifts after our adventure in the haunted house. I can still hear her telling me about her family, how they would be waiting for her and all the things she still had left to do. It was selfish of me, but I had wanted her to myself. I had wanted her to want to spend this time with me. I pull out my keys and unlock the door. I slide into the seat of my car, a car that is nicer than the usual government issue, and I lean my head against the steering wheel. I sit up straight when it hits me. Scully's family! I bet her mother still lives in the same place. I check my watch, and it is just after 8:00. I decide to give it a try. I pull away from the curb and make my way to Baltimore. By the time I pull up to the curb across the street from the Scullys house, it is after 9:00. I can see the lights from the Christmas Tree through the big picture window. I see movement, and then Melissa walks in front of the window, followed by her sister. My heart leaps at the sight of her. She looks as gorgeous as ever, though her hair is a bit longer than I remember it and there is softness to her face I recall seeing the first day she walked into my office. I can't see much from my spot across the street, but I don't dare go up to the door. I am imaging myself in there, with her and her family. Through the window I can see that her mother and father are sitting in the living room with her and Melissa. I see Bill, Jr., walk by with his wife. They hug each member of the family, then head out of the room. After awhile, Melissa leaves and is followed by her mother a few minutes later. Scully and her father appear to talk for awhile, and then he stands up, gives her a hug and leaves the room. The overhead light goes out, leaving Scully lit only by the soft light coming from the tree. She sits by herself for quite awhile. Suddenly, she stands up and crosses the room to stand in front of the window. She reaches behind her and pulls a chair up to sit on as she continues to gaze out. I slide down in my seat, not wanting to appear as the stalker like which I am presently behaving. I can almost see all her features as she looks out the window. She almost looks as though she is waiting for someone. She brings her left hand up to rub her eyes and I can see no ring. She looks incomplete, and I long to reach out to comfort her, to take her in my arms and let her know everything will be all right. I want to tell her I love her. She puts her hand upon the pain of glass and I long to bring my hand up to meet it. Then she turns from the window and I see the lights on the tree blink out. I see a shadow pass by the window and I know she has gone up to bed. I close my eyes as tears stream down my cheeks. Just as in my life, there is something missing in hers. I don't want her to ache, not like I ache. I want her to find happiness. I must have cried myself into exhaustion, something I haven't done since the years after my sister disappeared, when I would lie awake listening to my parents fight downstairs. When I open my eyes, I am once again standing in front of the bounty hunter, his eyes and face expressionless. "Are you enjoying this?" I ask him. I can't keep out the note of defeat that creeps into my voice. "Was your goal to break me?" I ask softly. He shakes his head but offers no words of comfort. I do not expect them. The silence lengthens out between us and neither of us utters a sound to break it. I have nothing to say. After what seems like hours, I look up into his face. He seems to be waiting for me. "What," I ask. "What do you want from me?" "This is not about me," he states. "It's about you." I just stare at him, then my legs buckle and I sink to the floor. I hand my head in my hands and wait for the blackness. I wait fir it to consume me so I can open my eyes to another life that isn't really mine. I wait to suffer through another Christmas Day. "And this isn't about suffering," he adds. I lift my head and stare into his cold eyes. "Then what is it about?" I ask angrily. I hang my head back down. "Feel free to enlighten me," I say through my hands, refusing to look back up. "It is about choices. It is about what you have sacrificed in your search for what you call the truth. It is about different paths that could have been followed. You have been throwing your life away, selling yourself out for your quest. We are simply showing you the cost. This, Mulder, is the price you have paid to get to where you are today." He pauses but I don't look up. "Was it worth it? Would you do it all over again, make the same choices, follow the same path?" I finally look up at him. If he is waiting for an answer, he'll be standing there a long time. I look him straight in the eye, and I believe he already knows this. "Come, I have one more thing to show you." He begins to walk away, but I just close my eyes and lean my head back. And then I begin to feel the darkness settle over me. As soon as I gain consciousness, my eyes fly open at a sound that fills my ears. I quickly take stock of my surroundings and note that I am in Scully's apartment again. I jump up and fly toward the bathroom. As I round the corner, I see her. She is leaning down next to the toilet. I hurry into the bathroom and kneel down next to her. I reach to put my arms around her, and can't. My arms go right through her. "Scully, are you okay?" I ask, but I get no response. She grabs some toilet paper and dabs her mouth, then sits and leans against the tub. She closes her eyes. I lean in to touch her face, and again my hand passes through her as if she isn't there - or I'm not. I sink to a sitting position on the floor across from her, my eyes never leaving her face. She looks anything but peaceful. My eyes slide down her body and go wide with what I see. There is a bulge around her middle. I leap to my feet. "Scully! What is going on? Are you pregnant? How?" I am frantic now, and I can't get an answer. "Scully! Scully!!" "She can't hear you," he says from behind me. I whip around to face him, anger suppressing rational thought. "What is going on here? Why can't she hear me? WHY?" I shout, knowing I won't disturb the woman behind me. "This is only a peep, a fleeting glimpse. You don't get to interact with her in this timeline." I step forward, determined to get some answers from him. I reach him quickly and bring my hands up to his neck. They pass right through, just as they did with Scully. The corner of his mouth quirks up as if to smile, and I am pulsing to punch it right off his face. Instead, knowing it to be futile, I turn back to my love. Her eyes are still closed, she looks as though she hasn't moved a muscle. I slowly sink down to the ground next to her. I long to take her hand and comfort her. "Mulder," I hear her whisper. I glance back out the door, but the bounty hunter is gone. I turn back to Scully. "Scully, I-" "Where are you, Mulder?" she asks. Her hand slides across her stomach, swollen with child. I glance back up at her face and see tears slide out between her eyelids. My heart aches as I watch, helpless. "I'm here, Scully," I say, knowing she can't hear me. But it helps ease the hurt just a little. She opens her eyes and I am lost in the glistening blue depths. She seems to be looking right at me. Then she looks down at her stomach, which she is still softly rubbing with her hand. "Merry Christmas, little one," she says, and I watch a ghost of a smile appear on her face. "Next Christmas will be better, I promise you that. We will find him, and then you will spend your first Christmas in the arms of your parents, your mother and your father." She sits here, next to me on the bathroom floor for a few more minutes, then uses the tub to push herself up. I long to reach out and help her, to put my arms around her, to feel our baby kick and move inside her. Tears stream down my cheeks as I watch her walk toward her bedroom. She makes the bed and goes about tiding up, as if there is nothing wrong in her world. I smile at that. That's my Scully, the strongest woman I know. I then follow her into the kitchen where she begins to make breakfast for herself. She flips the radio on low as she walks by. The Christmas carols on low volume seem cheerful, but that doesn't seem to lighten her mood or help the atmosphere in her apartment. The phone rings. "Hello," she answers dully. "No, I'm okay, Mom," I hear her say. "Yes, I'll be there this afternoon." "Yes, thanks, Mom. Merry Christmas to you, too. Bye." She sits down to eat her breakfast and I sit across from her. She doesn't utter a word, and when she if finished eating, she sets her dishes in the sink and heads toward the bathroom again. I don't move. I hear the water in the shower start, and then the sound of someone stepping into the stream. I close my eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can take this," I plead. Please, please, make this stop." No one answers. The water stops and I hear footsteps heading into the bedroom. I hear drawers slide open and shut. The silence that follows is eerie and I stand up and make my way back to the bedroom. She is lying in the middle of the bed wrapped in a robe that barely makes it around her swollen abdomen. Her head is buried in her arms and I can see her shoulders shaking. After a while I can see that she has cried herself to sleep. I sit on the bed and stare at her. "What have I done to her?" I say, knowing she can't hear me, but knowing someone who can. "Where have I gone?" "You have gone after your truth. Your quest has left her alone like this, while you are off somewhere seeking answers to questions you have no right to be asking. You left her. Was it worth it?" I spin around on the bed. My eyes flash anger, but I hold it in knowing it has it's purpose but also knowing that it will be no use right here, right now. I turn back around. My eyes need to see her, to know she is there. I have already seen my life without her and I can't bare it. "I didn't know," I whisper softly. "And do you think that will solve anything?" he asks. I am tired of listening to him and his self-righteous accusations. I stretch out on the bed next to her and long to reach out to her. I keep my hands to myself, not able to bare the sight of them passing right through her. "I am so sorry, Scully," I say. "I have loved you for so long and I never even admitted it to myself, let alone you. Why have I wasted so much time, so much of our life together hiding from my feelings? It seemed so much easier to just pretend they didn't exist, to live each day beside you as your partner and your best friend but no more. I was afraid, I guess. I was afraid that I would lose you. But I should have realized I could never lose you. I choose to ignore the signs and was a coward for not stepping forward. I guess I never realized how much more I could have, would have had, with you. I waited too long. Our time together was too short, and I...I - I hope that one day you can forgive me. I love you, Scully. I love you so much it hurts," I choke out as sobs rack my body. I am a long time in calming down, but Scully continues to sleep beside me, never stirring. I feel so exhausted I can barely move. My muscles ache down to my bones and I feel a sense of weariness settle upon me. I take a deep breath and slowly reach my hand out to touch her. I reach for a strand of hair that has fallen over her face. I stop my hand just inches from her face, afraid. I have let fear stop me from living a meaningful life full of her love. I move my fingers to slide the lock of hair out of her face, and I touch silky red hair. I gently move it out of her face and allow my fingers to trace along her cheekbone and down to her lips. I run my fingers over them and she murmurs. "Mulder," I hear. I move my hand down to where the swell of her abdomen slows slightly through her robe. I run my fingers along the small slip of flesh. I splay my fingers out and can feel the warmth of her skin radiating through my hand. I feel movement beneath her flesh and my eyes widen in wonder. "Mulder," I hear her whisper again and I glance back up at her face. She is still sleeping, but she looks peaceful now, a slight smile on her lips. I move my hands back up to her face. Her skin is so soft and she smells clean and sweet. She slides in closer to me and I wrap my arms around her. She turns in my arms and presses her back against me, sliding down as far into my arms as possible. "Mulder, don't leave me," she slurs. "Shhh, Scully. I am here, and I'm not going anywhere," I tell her. She lets out a contented sign and her face looks so peaceful. I can feel the rise and fall of her chest against my hands and her heartbeat against my chest. I slide my hands down to cover her stomach and am reward with a small kick. I close me eyes and stop my brain from going any farther than each minute I pass here with her in my arms. I don't want to think about tomorrow or the next Christmas Day my guide will dump me into. I nuzzle my face into her hair and close my eyes, hoping this will be the one to last. I should have known better. I don't even open my eyes this time, I just sink to the floor and curl up in a ball. "I think he has learned enough," I hear his voice say. "Yes, you are right," I hear the same voice say. I slowly open my eyes and look around me. There are three bounty hunters now, standing in a circle to the left of me. I close my eyes again and hold my knees to my chest. I would rather die than be sent to live another day of a Christmas that doesn't really happen. I refuse to tell them this, so I keep it to myself and will my brain back into oblivion. It doesn't come, so I lay on the floor in a ball with my eyes closed, just listening. "Should we let him go back?" "Just look at him. I believe he has learned what we set out to teach him. He is ready now." "Humans. Why are we bothering with this race?" I hear one ask. "If they could only realize how much of what they do is pointless..." "Their problem is they don't realize which part is pointless and they focus on things that have no real value." "What does give human life a meaning, an essence?" one asks. "A life well lived." There is hair tickling my nose again, and I reach up with one hand to brush it away, not wanting to open my eyes. I brush it away and take a deep breath. What I smell causes my eyes to shoot open in amazement. I smell her shampoo mixed in with a touch of her perfume coming from the pillow under my head. She is in my arms, peacefully sleeping. I raise my head and look around the room. I see no one and take a deep breath, hold it for just a second, then release it, finally feeling free. I snuggle in closer to her and drift back into blissful sleep. "Mulder, I love you," I hear through my dream-fuddled ears. "I don't ever want to wake up." I open my eyes and find Scully still in my arms, but she has turned to face me. Her eyes are droopy but open. She lifts her hand and brushes her fingers over my lips and my cheeks and into my hair. Then she curls her head under my jaw and traces patterns on my chest. I can feel her warm finger through the thin layer of cotton. Her finger stops and I can hear her breath evening out again. I notice that the bed under us is made and she is in her robe. My hand slides down between us and I spread my fingers out on her abdomen, a slow smile spreading across my face as I feel a slight movement within. I wrap my arms back around her. Tears fall down my cheeks as I think about the conversation I know I was meant to hear. What is it I value in my life? Where have my priorities been? What have I been living for? I know that within the circle of my arms there are two hearts beating. There has been too much that I have missed already, and I vow that I will miss no more. Again I feel a slight sense of approval light on me. I decide I can't wait anymore. We have the rest of our lives to catch up on sleep. I am sure it is Christmas morning and I can't wait to see her and share with her, and just be with her. I realize this is my present. I have the rest of my life to be thankful. I watch her sleep for a few more moments, hesitant to break this spell. "Scully," I say softly. She stirs but doesn't wake. "Scully," I say again, a little louder this time. "Merry Christmas, Scully. I love you." "I love you, too, Mulder," she murmurs and I am sure she still isn't completely awake. "Scully, wake up, Love." "No, don't want to," she mumbles. "You're here." "Yes, Scully, I am here and I need you to wake up." I see her eyes start to blink as she wakes up. I can tell exactly when her eyes focus as they go wide with astonishment. I reach out and touch her cheek. "I'm here," I say in a voice hoarse with emotion. "Really, Mulder?" she whispers. "I dreamt you were here, with me, holding me. Are you sure I am awake?" I move closer to her and brush my lips against hers. "I'm sure," I murmer against her neck as I continue to kiss her gently. "I'm here and I am not leaving you again. Either of you," I add as I slide my hand to her stomach. Her arms go around me with a strength I didn't know she possessed as she holds me tightly to her. "Oh, Mulder," she says and I feel her tears hit my neck where she has buried her head. "You better not," she adds. I pull her back to look into her face. "Scully, I love you. I want to marry you and I want to raise our child with you. There is no where else I would rather be, and I feel as if I have been waiting several lifetime for this." She looks at me with confusion written on her face. "Nevermind," I chuckle. I draw her back into my arms and feel hers circle around me. "I'll explain it all one day. For now, know this - I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I know that will be a life well lived." -the end For any of you out there with a love of the X-Files and time on your hands, I could use a bit of help. I have a casefile that I am writing, and the beginning is finished, but now I am getting into it and am having a hard time getting Mulder and scully just right. I need a little help. if anyone is interested, please let me know, I would really appreciate it! thanks again!
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