From: char@chaffin.com   
      
   ROCKY MOUNTAIN INTERLUDE, EPILOGUE   
   By Char Chaffin and Tess   
   MSR, Casefile, AU   
   Rating:  Strong R   
   Spoilers:  FTF, Most of Season Seven   
   Feedback:  to Tnv099@aol.com; char@chaffin.com   
      
   Headers and summary, see Part 1   
      
      
      
   EPILOGUE   
      
   FBI Headquarters   
   Washington, DC   
      
      
   He wore the dark gray summer-weight wool, the one he'd bought two   
   weeks before they'd left on vacation.  It hung a bit on his frame;   
   Scully had circled him once, commenting, "You've lost weight.  That   
   suit was a perfect fit when you brought it home."   
      
   Mulder nodded, his fingers plucking at the waistband of the tailored   
   slacks.  "I'm going to have to do something about it.  Maybe buy a   
   smaller belt... or start eating a hell of a lot of pizza."  He   
   flashed a grin at Scully and she echoed it back to him, happy to keep   
   things light and slightly silly, at least for now.   
      
   She tugged on her own suit, realizing it too was somewhat baggy.   
   "We both built up muscle, Mulder.  We toned up.  The Bowflex Company   
   can boast all they want about the kind of workout you can create on   
   their equipment, but obviously nothing beats swinging an iron hammer   
   or lugging endless buckets of water."   
      
   "You got that right."  He leaned up against the desk next to her,   
   scooted in close and wriggled his hip against hers teasingly.  Scully   
   favored him with one raised eyebrow and a half-smile; then rested her   
   head on his shoulder.  Even after a day of doing nothing much beyond   
   eating and sleeping and bathing, she was still tired.   
      
   They'd spent their last day in the Rocky Mountains safely behind   
   locked doors, needing nothing more than each other.  They'd slept a   
   lot, eaten room service, and taken another bath together, then later   
   on, a shower.  They'd made love, once with utmost tenderness and   
   later with unrestrained passion.  They'd talked, too.  About Libby   
   and Thomas, about Angus.  They'd kept the reminiscing lighthearted   
   and more than once Mulder had made Scully laugh aloud with a deadly   
   accurate impersonation of Angus's gruff voice and expletive-laden   
   language.   
      
   They'd come down off their initial high of relief and thankfulness   
   that they'd made it back to their own time without major incident,   
   and had found themselves unable to banish the guilt of leaving   
   Millersburg behind and uninformed of their fate.  Their sensible and   
   practical side demanded reinforcement that nothing different could   
   have been done; history needed to play out in exactly the manner it   
   had.  The emotional, more human side of both of them couldn't help   
   but wish that somehow the little mining town and all its inhabitants   
   could have been spared the virus and its ultimate destruction.  It   
   was a conflict of emotion they would ultimately have to come to terms   
   with.   
      
   Glancing at her watch, Scully sighed and reluctantly got to her   
   feet.  "We should talk, Mulder.  We only have ten minutes before the   
   meeting.  We need to figure out what the hell to say to Skinner.  I   
   confess I'm at a real loss here."   
      
   Mulder caught one of her hands and squeezed it reassuringly.  "I am   
   too, Scully," he admitted.  "I thought it would be so cut-and-dried.   
   Back to the future, eat massive quantities of modern food, take three-   
   point-seven showers and come to work, ready to discuss time travel   
   and deadly alien viruses."  He straightened and tugged at her hand   
   until she came into his arms and pressed close to him.  "We have to   
   make Skinner understand and accept, concerning the virus.  I'm still   
   convinced he was humoring me the last time I tried to explain it all   
   to him.  Right after Antarctica, in fact.  As I recall, the PTB dug a   
   hole and buried it all up.  We can't let that happen this time."  At   
   her inquiring frown, Mulder clarified, "Powers-That-Be."   
      
   "Ah."   
      
   Scully tucked a thick strand of hair behind her ear and thought a   
   moment, trying to put herself in Skinner's shoes, imagining what sort   
   of a reaction she'd have if someone came to her and told the kind of   
   tale she and Mulder had to present to their boss in just a few   
   minutes.  It was a daunting and depressing feeling...  Then she   
   remembered what she'd folded inside her briefcase before they left   
   her apartment a few hours ago, and she brightened a bit.   
      
   "I've got Jenny Nulty's dress.  I brought it with me.  This morning   
   when I looked at it, I found one of her handkerchiefs in the pocket.   
   It has hand-tatted lace around the hem and her initials in the   
   corner.  All hand-made.  I also have the notepad with the sketches of   
   the cave drawings."  She handed him the small notepad and he tucked   
   it into his breast pocket. "Think that would help to convince   
   Skinner?"  Scully's voice was light but her eyes were over-bright.   
   Her smile trembled, just a little.   
      
   Mulder reached out and cupped her cheek, brushed a thumb over her   
   lips.  "Yes.  I think it'll help.  The dress is proof positive that   
   we did indeed travel to another time.  I hope.  Otherwise how on   
   earth could we have obtained it?  It's not something you can buy on   
   Ebay and we didn't rob a frontier museum.  Maybe if we turn it inside   
   out and Skinner gets an eyeful of how it's constructed..."  He   
   grinned at her and almost sighed aloud in relief when she nodded and   
   smiled in return.   
      
   "I agree.  We have some visual proof.  I admit I'd feel a lot more   
   confident if we'd had some way of recording the physical condition of   
   the Franklins.  Photos, cell samples... something.  I suppose a   
   hundred and forty-year-old dress, an equally-old handkerchief and a   
   notebook of cave drawings are better than nothing, though," Scully   
   shrugged.   
      
   "We'll tell him everything, Scully.  All that we saw, what we   
   experienced.  The cave and its drawings, the town, the evidence of   
   virus that we found.  I put that book I bought, the one that told the   
   story of Millersburg, in my coat pocket last night before we hit the   
   sack.  We'll show him that, too.  Hell, I suppose we could always   
   kidnap Skinner, fly back to Estes Park and force him to go spelunking   
   with us."  Mulder paused, waiting for her reaction, and chuckled when   
   she shuddered and shook her head decisively.   
      
   "No, Mulder.  No more caves.  No return to our little Rocky Mountain   
   interlude.  We'll tell Skinner the truth as it happened to us.   
   We'll present all the proof we have, and I know it's not much.  If he   
   chooses not to believe us, that's his choice.  As for where we go   
   from here," Scully met her partner's steady regard with firm resolve,   
   "we stay alert.  We watch for signs and we take nothing for granted.   
   And we fight.  Together."   
      
   "Together."  He echoed it back to her; then pulled her into his arms   
   and held on tightly.  In the quiet of their dusty little office they   
   clung to each other, reluctant to put a name to what the future   
   seemed to hold, yet knowing they'd face it, no matter the trials or   
   the danger.  They kissed softly and Mulder kept hold of Scully's hand   
   as they stepped away from each other and walked to the door.   
      
   The elevator ride upstairs was quiet, pensive.  In Mulder's coat   
   pocket the little book he'd bought at the gift shop in Estes and   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)