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|    MJ to All    |
|    [all-xf] TITLE: The End of Eschatology A    |
|    17 Apr 08 08:55:02    |
      From: texgoddess@yahoo.com              TITLE: The End of Eschatology According to Fox Mulder       AUTHOR: Maidenjedi       FANDOM: The X-Files       RATING: R       CATEGORY: post-series, Mulder/Scully        SPOILERS: The whole series is up for grabs; specific spoilers        for "The Truth," "Ice," and "Bad Blood"       DISCLAIMER: Not my characters, my concept, or my show. Damn it.       ARCHIVE: Anywhere is fine. Already submitted to Ephemeral/Gossamer.       SUMMARY: The world isn't ending.               NOTES: Idea taken from the speculation that our dynamic duo        could be separated at the beginning of the new film. There are        no actual spoilers for the film within this story.                     XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX              "...in this separation I associate you only with the good, and        I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have        done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp        distress I may." - Charles Dickens, Great Expectations              XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX                     The world wasn't ending after all. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully        were headed home.              They found out in Wyoming. A message came to them through means        they both thought had died with Langly, Frohike, and Byers. A        note on a table, a locker in a public place, and then a masked        voice on a tape recorder. A day passed, they left Wyoming for        South Dakota, and another message was waiting for them.              "It's over. You can come back."              Scully sat Mulder down in their motel room, and talked to him in        a voice she might have saved for a child.              "These are the facts, Mulder. We haven't seen any signs in over        a year. We haven't had to use the stiletto, or the magnetite, for        longer than that. We haven't been chased or followed, we haven't        received threats."              "They could be better than we are, Scully."              "Mulder, we have these messages. Two of them. Will you at least        give this a chance?"              In the end, Mulder convinced Scully to wait. If they heard        nothing else, they would continue as they had been, on the run.        Always moving, hiding their identities (Scully's hair was a dark        brown right now, and Mulder had grown a beard), working occasional        odd jobs and never staying in public for long. Totally dependent        on each other, which suited Mulder fine.               Two days later, they received another message. This time, the        voice was familiar.              "You can come home. It's safe. The world isn't ending."              Scully's eyes lit up in triumph, and Mulder conceded, but asked        that they take it easy. They headed east, steadily, still below        the radar but with the tiniest bit less caution. Scully washed        the dye from her hair, and she almost convinced Mulder to shave.        Except that she liked the way it felt on her skin, rough and kind        of wild, so she gave up after a token try or two.               Mulder knew things like that now.               They got to Kentucky before they sat down to decide exactly how        this would play out.               "Should we go to the FBI?"              "No, no government. They probably already know about this but why        alert them further?"              "Yeah, you're right. So what do you think?"              Home, said Scully's eyes, pleading with Mulder to at least give        her that.              "Okay. Home it is."              -              They separated in Virginia, each citing the need to clear their        heads apart before continuing together. Their parting had an awful        finality to it, a tolling of the bell for a partnership that was no        longer a matter of course.              She was visiting her mother, a tearful reunion that he hadn't        wanted to witness. After all this time, just thinking of Scully's        mom and her brother created a hard knot of guilt to gather in        Mulder's stomach. It was worse, too, with William lost to time.        They would ask, curious questions with an edge of accusation.        Just for flavor.              A part of him wondered if William might hold them together        after all, but he never said it aloud. Scully hadn't wanted       to seek out their child, telling Mulder it would be cruel to       take him from parents he'd grown attached to. Tears        slipped down her cheeks and gave her away, but he wisely        stayed silent. It made some sense, and Mulder never had        felt justified in making decisions about William.               Mulder had no family to seek out; he'd refrained from        snapping at Scully about that, about how she was the only        family he had in this world. It was melodramatic and        after all, they'd had three years in the wilderness        together. Scully had never been a wanderer at heart, she        needed roots, and she'd begun to fade without them.              He retreated to a motel room in Alexandria, deciding to        start with the familiar and work from there. He considered        heading to Greenwich to tie up affairs that had gone neglected        for so long, since before Bellefleur. He'd left lawyers with        directions but he'd anticipated they would all be alien-human        hybrids (or dead, whispers the blunt Scully-voice in his mind)        by now. He wasn't sure he wanted to confront those ghosts        quite yet, though, so he decided to sleep on it and make a        decision in daylight.               Motels were so monotonous in design and decor that when        Mulder inevitably woke at 3am, he had no idea where he was.        Scully's absence from this bed gave him his answer quicker than        he might have liked. He rubbed his eyes and stretched,        considering a late-night run to take some of the fight out of       him. It had been a long day and sleep had never come easy or        stayed for very long. He swung his legs out from under the        covers and as his feet hit the floor, he heard a familiar        voice that had never been the harbinger of much more than doom.              "Agent Mulder, I presume."              The voice came from the dark corner and Mulder's heart leapt        into his throat. Such a disturbing turn of phrase, his mind        gibbered at him as he fumbled for a gun, a light, something.              "I guess it's not really Agent anymore, though, is it." The        voice came into the stream of light coming from the parking        lot, all blonde hair and white face and cold blue eyes.               "Marita," he said, gasping a little. "You scared the living        shit out of me."              "Did I? I apologize." She walked over and turned on the        standing lamp by the window, and shut the curtains all the way.              "I take it you got the message."              He nodded, the adrenaline fading slightly. "We did. I'm        still not sure I believe it, though."              "You should. You never did pay any attention to what the        aliens were truly all about. You just wanted to go after        the conspiring hacks who made up        the government."              Mulder wasn't quite sure how to respond. "I always figured        the aliens would take care of themselves."              Marita sat down on the edge of the other double bed, her        slim figure barely denting the comforter. "And they have.        Much like we almost did so many times." Her eyes darkened        at that, and Mulder didn't have to guess what crossed her        mind. "We didn't think it wise to reveal everything in our               [continued in next message]              --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05        * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)    |
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