From: Leyla Harrison 

Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Subject: NEW: After All These Years 10/10

Date: Tue, 25 Jun 1996 15:14:33 -0700





After All These Years 10/10

by Leyla Harrison

(starbuck72@netaxis.ca)





Mrs. Scully: 



The funeral day dawned bright and cold.   No one even realized that it 

was February 14th.  Valentine's Day.  What a horrible day for a funeral.



There was no visitation.  Only a short service at a local church.  Sam 

looked like a little angel, wearing the green dress I had bought her for 

Christmas.  Dana sat in the front pew, Joe in the pew across from her, 

and Fox at her side.  It filled me with a small sense of relief to see 

that they had come together for this important day.



After the funeral, we all went to the cemetery for the burial.  I rode 

with Dana, Fox and Joe.  The ride over was silent.  None of us were 

crying.  We were just silent.  



At the cemetery, we all gathered around the small hole they had dug in 

the ground for the tiny coffin.  I had not seen Dana cry when they had 

closed it earlier at the church.  Her face now was stoic and brave, 

although I could tell that she was having a hard time keeping up that 

front.  After the minister spoke, Joe placed a single white rose on the 

top of the already flower-laden casket.  He went to Dana, held her for a 

moment, and then left.



Fox moved forward.  His eyes were now brimming with tears.  He laid a red 

rose on Sam's casket.  I saw his lips move but I was unsure of what he 

was saying.  He stepped back, wiped his eyes, and Dana moved forward.  



She was trying so hard to be strong.  Oh, my sweet daughter, I thought.  

It's alright not to be able to be strong. 



She placed her own red rose across the one Fox had just put on the casket 

and kissed her fingertips, then pressed them to the side of the casket 

lovingly.  It brought tears to my eyes.



She moved away, turning her back on the casket as they lowered it into 

the ground, and buried herself into the side of Fox's body.  He wrapped 

one arm around her.  I went to them and put my hand on his shoulder.  I 

had no idea what to say to either one of them.  It was obviously so 

exquisitely painful for them, in different but similar ways.  Fox took 

his free arm and pulled me into an embrace.  I hugged him back tightly.



*****



FEBRUARY 20, 2001

WASHINGTON, DC



Scully: 



Mulder and I had agreed that I would stay at his apartment, but I made 

sure that he understood that I was making no promises about anything.  He 

nodded his head.

It felt strange to be back in the DC area.



Mulder's building looked exactly the same.  We went up the elevator and 

he unlocked his apartment, still carying my suitcase.  The rest of my 

things were packed up in Greenwich, and I was going to have them shipped 

to me as soon as I knew where I was going to be living.  The boxes of 

Sam's things that I had given Mulder had already been shipped back and 

were waiting, thanks to UPS, in front of his apartment door.  "I can 

already warn you, it's a bit of mess.  It's the cleaning lady's century 

off," he told me, embarrassment touching his voice.



"I've seen it a mess before, Mulder."  



Mulder carried my suitcase in and then went back for the boxes as I got a 

look at his apartment for the first time in five years.  But I was in no 

way prepared for what I saw when we went into the apartment.  Some of the 

furniture had been moved.  There were papers strewn everywhere, on the 

floor, on the couch, on the table, on the desk.  I could see into the 

kitchen and saw the dirty dishes piled up.  Clothes also littered the 

floor.



Mulder saw my critical glance around and reddened.  "Maybe I should just 

take you to a hotel."



"No, Mulder," I said.  "Look, I'll help you clean up.  I'm sure we'll get 

it done in no time."



"I don't know, Scully.  It's been like this for a while now."



My eyes filled with tears as I realized that he meant that he had been 

living like this since I left.  Five years ago.  Oh, Mulder, I thought.  

What did I do to you?  I managed to push my tears away before he noticed. 

 "It's OK.  We'll work on it."



And work we did.  For the next ten hours Mulder sorted and filed his 

papers while I cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom.  I dusted, he 

vaccuumed.  I borrowed his car and bought groceries and filled his 

kitchen with food, the likes of which he had probably not even seen 

before I left.  Mulder never was one for eating in.



By the time we were done it was well past one in the morning, and we both 

flopped down on the couch, exhausted.  The apartment looked almost as if 

it had the last time I had seen it.  "I'm wasted," he said, looking at 

me.



"Me too.  Are you hungry?  I could make you something to eat."



"No, that spaghetti we had around six filled me up.  I just want to get 

some sleep."



An uncomfortable silence filled the room.  Sleep.  The last time I had 

been here, we had slept together, in the bed I had always used to think 

Mulder didn't have.  We mostly stayed at my place when we had been 

involved.  But I could remember with clarity the last time I had slept 

here.  I had likely already been pregnant with Sam, although I didn't 

know it yet.  We had spent the majority of the night awake, talking, then 

making love, then talking again, then making love again.  By the time we 

dozed off it was almost four in the morning.  I looked over at Mulder.  

He was obviously thinking the same thing I was.  "Mulder..."



"Look, you can take the bed.  I'll sleep out here on the couch.  I don't 

think I've used that bed in years and I don't think I could get used to 

it now," he said.  I nodded.  I took my suitcase and carried it into the 

bedroom.  Mulder followed me.  "If you need anything--"



"I know where you'll be," I finished, and he nodded and left me alone in 

the bedroom.  I contemplated shutting the door behind him, and decided 

against it.  I slipped into the bathroom to change into a white cotton 

nightgown with thin straps.  The gown came down just below my knees.  I 

was exhausted from the cleaning.  I crawled into bed, under the cool 

sheets, and pulled the blanket up to my neck. I was asleep within 

minutes.



*****



Mulder: 



I laid out on the couch for about an hour after I heard the rustling from 

the bedroom stop, unable to sleep, unable to close my eyes.  There she 

was, in my room, in the room we had made love in five years ago, in the 

very bed.  And there I was in the living room, on the couch.   I finally 

got up and walked softly into the bedroom.



Scully was on her side, curled up under the blanket, her eyes closed, her 

breathing slow and regular.  The blanket came up to her chest.  I could 

see white straps on her creamy shoulders.  Her hair was splayed out on 

the pillow like a fan.  I came close to her, not wanting to wake her, but 

needing to touch her.



I stroked her forehead gently.  "I love you," I whispered.



She stirred in bed, then opened her eyes in the darkness of the room.  

The only light came from the window, from where the open blinds spilled 

in light from the streetlamp outside.  



*****



Scully: 



I was dreaming, a senseless flowing dream about Sam.  She was running, 

somewhere, I wasn't sure where, and calling out to me...



I felt a touch, light as a feather on my forehead, and the dream slipped 

from my unconscious, and I moved back into awakeness.  I opened my eyes 

and Mulder was standing over me.



*****



"Hi," Mulder whispered softly.  "I didn't mean to wake you."



"It's OK," Scully whispered back.  Mulder stood there in silence for a 

few moments.  She knew what he wanted, and she knew that she wanted it as 

well.  "Do you want to...climb in?" she asked finally.  Nice, she 

thought.  Climb in?  That's not what I meant to say.



But Mulder nodded gratefully and crawled under the covers with her.  Her 

body naturally curved into his as it did years ago, as if no time had 

passed.  He wrapped his arm around her so that he was holding her fully, 

even though he could only see her back and the side of her face.  

"Scully..." he whispered,  "Dana?"



"Mmm?"  Her voice was thick with sleepiness.



"Is it too late for us to start again?"



Scully turned in his embrace so that she could face him.  After all this 

time, there they were again, forehead to forehead, face to face.  "No," 

she whispered.  "I'd like to."



"Me too."



And then they kissed each other.  Tentative at first.  Lips touching, 

coming together softly, gently.  Mulder ran his hand down Scully's back. 

 She sighed, whispered his name, kissed him more passionately.  He 

pressed his body close to hers, feeling her body arch in response.  She 

sighed again, her lips parting slightly to let him in.  Mulder ran his 

hand over the soft nightgown she was wearing, feeling the warmth of her 

shoulders that were uncovered, feeling her legs wrap around his.  He 

closed his eyes.  It was a bliss that he thought he never would have felt 

again.  After everything, this was where they both wanted to be.  Needed 

to be.  Together.



They would always carry with them the memories of what had happened.  And 

they were not the same people as they were when they had fallen in love 

with each other so many years ago.  They were older now, and wiser.



But they were together.  After all the years that had gone by, they both 

knew, with the certainty that comes along once in a lifetime, that 

together was where they needed to be.



Forever.



END