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slippinmickeys · 20 days

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Totality

Fiona made me write an eclipse fic.

Scully gently shut the door behind her, the crisp blue duffle with leather handles in her grip; the go-bag she always left in her car, just in case. It had been a just-in case, Mulder had to admit. They’d had to fly to Idaho with no time to pack, and had worked a grueling five days straight on a series of local murders with only enough time to catch maybe four hours of sleep a night and pop into a shabby JC Penneys once for more underwear. They were both overworked, overtired, and their suits–of which each of them only had two–were overworn; ripe with the scents of stale sweat and stale coffee and stale eau de morgue.

Scully looked weary as she handed over the bag to where Mulder stood in front of their rental car’s open trunk.

“How far away is the airport again?” she asked, squinting up at him as he deposited her bag next to his and slammed the trunk closed.

“Only about an hour,” he answered, mentally girding himself for what he was about to tell her. “But, I uh,” he went on, “pushed back our flights to this evening.”

Her posture visibly slumped. “You…what?”

Mulder bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t made a horrible miscalculation. He knew she wanted nothing more than to get home, slide into a hot bath and pull the covers over her head for three straight days. She’d certainly earned it.

“Hop in the car,” he said, moving to the driver’s side door. “I have a surprise.”

He was exhausted himself, his nerves shot. He was running on caffeine and cortisol, his skeleton rattling with every step. But this…she would like this. He was sure of it.

“Mulder,” she said wearily, a whine in her voice that he’d rarely had the opportunity to hear. But she said nothing more and reluctantly dropped into the passenger seat, leaning her head against the headrest and rolling it to look at him beseechingly after she’d clicked her seat belt on.

Mulder turned the ignition and the sedan growled to life under them.

“It’s a good surprise,” he assured her.

She only sighed, and they bumped out of the hotel parking lot and onto town’s main drag, the sun shining on the shabby line of depressing suburbia. Ten minutes and five stop lights later, Mulder pulled into the mostly empty parking lot of a dying mall, the tires popping over stray gravel and broken glass. He cranked the wheel and the car swung over the cracked asphalt in front of a defunct Frederick & Nelson, turning in a reflex angle and stopping when the sun shone in full through the windshield. He killed the engine.

Scully opened her mouth to say something, but he reached into the inner pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a couple scraps of cardboard, handing one over before she could voice a complaint.

It took her a moment to register what he was handing her.

“Eclipse glasses?” she said, sitting up a little in her seat.

Mulder had found the black polymer lenses next to the cash register at a local coffee shop that morning, the bespectacled co-ed working it disinterestedly telling him he could have two pairs for a dollar.

The upcoming eclipse had been in the news recently, but he’d mostly ignored it–back east it would only be partial at best, the path of totality only hitting the Pacific Northwest and parts of Canada. Four murders and a rough case later, he hadn’t given it another thought. Until that morning in the coffee shop.

“We’re in the path of totality here,” he explained. “We’ll only get it for about a minute and ten seconds according to the local newspaper, but I thought you might like to see it.”

A look Mulder couldn’t read crossed over her face and he swallowed.

“The next full eclipse over North America won’t be until 2017,” he went on nervously. “I can probably change the tickets back if you-”

Scully reached out and put a warm hand on his arm, cutting him off.

“I’d love to see it,” she said delicately. “Thank you.”

Despite the dark smudges under her eyes, the soft smile she gave him quieted any lingering apprehension about his decision, and he gave her a smile back.

“I figured we could get on the hood, lean against the windshield,” he said.

“What time does it start?” she asked, popping her wrist out from her sleeve to look at her watch.

“In about five minutes,” he grinned.

Scully fingered the glasses and then opened her car door. Energized, Mulder did the same.

“I ask you to avert your eyes,” he said drolly, putting a hand on the warm hood of the car before awkwardly lumbering his way on top of it, the metal plane thumping loudly under him as it dented to accommodate his weight and then popped back into place.

Scully, opting to watch, looked on primly.

Once he was settled, he held out a hand.

“Milady,” he said, and she settled her warm palm onto his, grabbing on while she put a foot on top of the tire and dexterously swung herself up next to him.

“Nimble,” he complimented her, reluctantly letting go of her hand.

She shrugged and leaned back gingerly against the windshield, mindful of the smear of desiccated bugs across the face of it.

“Here, wait,” Mulder said. He sat up quickly and peeled off his suit coat, rolling it into a ball to tuck behind her head, pillow-like.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Don’t mention it.”

Mulder could feel something ineffable pass between them. He coughed once awkwardly, and then pressed his eclipse glasses to his face, the sharp cardboard edge digging into the skin behind his ear.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Like a dork,” Scully said, delicately donning her own, in, Mulder hoped, solidarity.

She looked nothing like a dork, Mulder thought, eyeing the sharp lines of her face. She looked like a space girl, sleek and silver, an otherworldly beauty.

He cleared his throat. “So do you.”

Scully’s face was tilted to the sky and he turned to follow her gaze.

“It’s starting,” she said, her voice a little irreverent.

Mulder looked at the sun, dark through polymer lenses of the protective eyewear. The moon was just beginning to edge itself in front of its celestial sister; incremental, pendulous.

Lacking the pillow he’d given Scully, he raised his arms up and bent his elbows, resting his head back against cupped hands. Beside him, Scully breathed serenely. He caught a whiff of his fusty clothing and hoped his jacket had fared better in the olfactory department than his shirt.

They were silent for long minutes, watching the gradual procession of moon across sun. The day was bright but began to take on a verging luminosity, and Mulder raised his glasses up to take a look at the dark shadow of the car under them, which took on an off-putting sharpness against the dusty asphalt.

“What do you think ancient peoples made of solar eclipses?” came Scully’s voice, a little dreamy. “What must they have thought?”

It was an invitation to oratory. A small gift. Mulder smiled.

“Cultures throughout the world had wildly different theories,” he said, and Scully turned her head towards him, her eyes hidden behind the dark lenses. “Most of them, obviously, wildly incorrect.” Despite the fact that he couldn’t see her eyes, her look was encouraging.

“The sun being devoured was popular,” he went on. “From the Norse mythology of Sköll,” at this she smiled. “To Asian cultures like in Java and Vietnam that variously had creatures or monsters swallowing the sun. It was commonly held in ancient China that a celestial dragon attacked and devoured it. Here in the Northwest, the Pomo people’s name for a solar eclipse is ‘Sun got bit by a bear.’”

The bear, Mulder mused, was widening its jaw. It was getting gradually darker, and he could feel the temperature start to dip. He put his glasses back on and looked back at the sun.

“The Inca and Ancient Greek believed eclipses were a sign of a wrathful and unhappy god.”

Scully hummed. “The word ‘eclipse’ comes from the Greek word meaning ‘abandonment.’”

“Right,” Mulder said, “though I think I prefer mythologies of a more solicitous nature.”

Scully raised her glasses to give him a look. “Solicitous?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Mulder couldn’t help his grin. “In Australian oral traditions, the moon falls in love with the sun and chases her across the sky. If caught, the sun plunges the world into darkness. Medicine men recite magical chants to combat the evil omen. In German mythology, the sun and the moon are married. One rules the day while the other the night. When the moon is lonely, he’s drawn to his bride and they come together to create a solar eclipse.”

She looked at him frankly. “You know a weird amount about eclipses.”

“I like to impress you.”

“Is this why you were so late getting back to the hotel this morning? Research? My coffee was cold.”

“But are you impressed?”

“I wasn’t impressed by the coffee…”

Mulder gave her a long look, the odd light turning her hair a hazy copper wool.

“I like the German one best,” she finally said, plunking her glasses back on and leaning back to gaze at the sky.

“Me too,” Mulder said.

More long minutes of silence between them with the occasional car whooshing past on the roadway. Mall security drove by them slowly and Mulder gave the rent-a-cop a small salute. It was impossible to see Scully with the glasses on, so he kept taking them off.

“You’re going to permanently burn your macula,” Scully said from beside him, not taking her eyes off the welkin of the heavens above them.

He ran his eyes over the brushstroke of freckles on her nose. She was goddess-like; as luminous as a star. If he was the moon, he’d chase her through the sky, too.

“You lose enough photoreceptors you won’t pass your next firearms recertification.”

He was tempted to tell her that in all the years he’d known her, her shine hadn’t damaged anything but his poor, lonely heart, but pulled his glasses back down and looked to the sun. It was nearly covered.

He sighed and felt her hand reach for his. His heart beat hard once against his sternum.

“You can take them off during the totality,” she said, squeezing. “And should. It’s supposed to be incredible.”

“You ever seen it?” He asked her quietly. She was still holding onto his hand.

“I missed the one in ‘79.”

“Me too,” he said.

Around them, the air had taken on a distinct chill and the light shining down had grown metallic. Next to the car, in the long shadows of the trees along the edge of the mall driveway appeared little crescents. The colors on the mall’s signage dimmed and brightened. Mulder sat up and pulled his glasses off and blinked, shaking his head. The world felt odd, he couldn’t properly adjust his vision. It felt decidedly like the moment after someone takes your picture with a bright flash.

Scully still held his hand and squeezed it.

“It’s called the Purkinje effect,” she said calmly, pulling off her own glasses with her other hand, and looking around with a wondrous smile. “As we near totality and the light dims, our eyes transition from photopic vision–which uses the retina’s cone cells to deliver full colors and fine detail–toward scotopic night vision, which relies on rod cells to detect objects in low light. When the light’s intensity dims in an eclipse, colors with longer wavelengths like red will look darker as the cones become less active. But rods are sensitive to shorter blue-green wavelengths, and those colors will appear to shine. It’s not just you. It’s the rod and cone cells in your eyes trying to make sense of the sudden dimness.”

Scully put her glasses back on and looked up at the eclipse. Mulder felt a surge of something so like love that his eyes burned.

Scully pulled in a sudden inhale of breath.

“The totality,” she said, pulling off her glasses and gazing up. “It’s starting.”

Mulder raised his eyes to the heavens. The world was dusk-like, the stars in the top of the dome of the heavens were winking on. In the bushes nearby, crickets began to chirp.

The eclipse itself was like nothing he’d seen before outside of a big budget movie. The moon was utter blackness, but along the upper edge of the eclipsed sun was a hot pink half-ring that erupted into a single bring spot along the edge of the moon’s shadow like the diamond in a giant engagement ring formed by the rest of the sun’s atmosphere.

And then the flaming plasma of corona as the moon reached complete totality. Second contact. It was a living thing. Streams of white light danced around the ring of the black moon. Scully gasped in pleasure and Mulder couldn’t help but exclaim: “Wow!”

He pulled his eyes from the eclipse itself and looked around. Along the entire horizon, all 360 degrees of it, was in full, brilliant sunset. Everything else was the darkness of post golden-hour. He turned toward his partner and locked eyes with her. Her smile was brilliant, and she held his gaze for only a moment before canting her face back to the eclipse itself.

“This is incredible,” she said breathlessly.

He had found, as the years of their partnership wound on, that their job turned them into ecstatics, subject to mystical experiences. This was perhaps the most transcendent of them all. He would remember the moment forever.

“It is,” he agreed.

A sharp flash, and Scully squeezed his hand.

“Third contact,” she said. “Put your glasses back on.”

He did as she asked, and they leaned back and watched in silence as the moon continued its journey, as the sky relit and the nighttime animals calmed, as the world came back to itself.

Eventually, Scully sat up. The light was still odd, seeming to come almost from inside her, and she lowered her glasses and leaned in to him. For a heady, divine moment, Mulder thought she was about to kiss him, but instead she pressed her cool lips to his cheek, her hair falling down to brush along the skin of his jaw.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said, and then straightened, the cool air rushing to fill the space she’d just been.

“You’re welcome, Scully,” he said, his voice a little rough. He lowered his glasses slowly and watched her slide off the hood of the car, watched her stretch and smile to herself; a Mona Lisa grin gently stretching the planes of a face with the same faultless symmetry of the celestial bodies sliding across the sky.

#the x files #fanfic #my fic #ficlet #prompt #msr #please forgive the scientific/historical/canon inaccuracies #i really should have been working

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phillippadgettwrites · 26 days

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The First Time, Every Time: E.B.E.

Rated X / 2105 words / Tagging @today-in-fic / Posted on AO3

He makes it to the front doors of her apartment building before he turns back, the photograph that she just insisted is a fake clutched tightly in one hand. He’s irritated and angry, in part because she’s always pushing back on him, and in part because she might be right. He does tend to overlook contradictory evidence when he’s hot on a lead like this. He does want to believe Deep Throat badly enough that it’s possible he’s not thinking clearly.

She said she trusted him. More than that, she said he’s the only person she trusts. But her trust isn’t given blindly, and he can’t decide if that’s something he resents or appreciates. He just doesn’t know what to think.

When she answers the door, his anger immediately wanes. Her eyebrows are all pushed together and she’s scanning his face for clues as to why he’s back already, and he’s still not used to someone looking at him like this all the time. Like they care.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

Mulder walks into her foyer and turns to face her. Truthfully, he has no idea why he came back. The conversation just felt unfinished somehow.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe? Even after the bugged pen?” he asks, more frustrated than anything.

Scully closes the door and sighs, then props her hands on her hips and levels him with an icy stare. How she manages to be intimidating at five foot nothing and with that pretty face is an X-File in itself.

“I’m a scientist, Mulder. I don’t believe anything without irrefutable evidence. A bugged pen is not evidence that your picture isn’t a fake,” she says sternly, with a nod to the envelope in his hand.

Mulder huffs and shakes his head, though he can’t disagree with her.

“I just wish you could be a little more open minded,” he says, and Scully presses her lips into a tight line.

“Your skeptical partner,” she says under her breath, and he feels a little flash of embarrassment at the memory of Langly’s comment. He may have vented to them a bit shortly after Scully started working with him, but he could also tell during their brief introduction that the Gunmen liked her. A lot. “You know what, Mulder, I wish that you could be a little more open minded,” she says sassily.

Mulder scoffs.

“To what, exactly?” he asks, tossing the envelope onto her kitchen table and taking one step towards her. She lifts her chin defiantly, and he has the overwhelming urge to kiss her, which catches him off guard.

“To the possibility that you’re being manipulated,” she tells him, her eyes locked on his. “To the possibility that you’re wrong.”

“What if I’m not wrong?” he asks, moving even closer, craning his neck down to bring his nose inches from hers.

Scully blinks rapidly, unmoving aside from the labored rise and fall of her chest. It’s something he’s noticed about her, a tell that she’s emotionally activated even when all other signs indicate calm. He watches for it now, listens for it on the phone. Her breathy, “Mulder, it’s me,” tells him everything he needs to know.

“If you’re so confident it’s real, why won’t you have it analyzed?” she asks, practically panting.

Mulder slips his hand into the space between their bodies, and she startles when his knuckles brush against her chest just beneath her clavicle. He fingers the gold chain around her neck, fishing the tiny cross that hangs from it out from beneath the hem of her shirt, though his eyes never leave her face.

“I have faith in my source,” he says, his voice low, and she draws in a shuddering breath.

“A faith too fragile to be questioned is hardly faith at all,” she retorts.

He has two concurrent realizations, with the backs of his fingers resting against the satiny skin of her breastbone and his face so close to hers that he can smell the wine on her breath: she is the most maddeningly stubborn person he has ever met, and he finds her immovable nature wildly arousing.

He tells himself that he absolutely cannot kiss her at the exact same moment he realizes that he already is, and he pulls away sharply, terrified. Her eyes are wide and her lips slightly parted, and she looks just as likely to slap him as she is to kiss him back.

“Sorry,” he stammers, taking one step away from her. “I don’t know why I did that.”

His head is hung in embarrassment, so he doesn’t see her moving closer. He feels the painful press of her fingernails digging into the back of his neck, and when he looks up her mouth immediately covers his. She’s teetering on her tiptoes, anchoring herself to him with an arm slung across his shoulders, so he stoops down a bit to compensate for their mismatched statures. Her hands move to his face and her kisses grow hungrier, soon accompanied by little whimpers that make his head spin.

“Scully,” he tries to say, but she swallows the sound of her own name and shakes her head with a muffled “Uh-uh.”

What does that mean? Is he supposed to stop her? Should he let it happen?

Her fingers brush over the fly of his slacks and he jumps, grabbing her hand to still it and pulling his head back, just out of reach.

“What are you doing?” he asks breathlessly, very aware that she just made full contact with his very hard dick.

She just stares at him for half a second, her expression unreadable.

“I don’t know,” she says, looking mildly shocked. “Should I stop?” she asks, flashing her eyes to his groin.

Mulder’s jaw tenses. He knows what the right answer is, but he can’t bring himself to say it.

“I don’t know,” he parrots back to her.

A beat passes wherein they look at each other, his hand still wound around her wrist. He knows she won’t keep going unless she’s absolutely sure he wants this. He can feel his heart beating in his cock, and in his periphery he can see the generous tent it’s creating at the front of his slacks. Scully’s tongue slides across her bottom lip and his cock jumps, making up his mind for him.

“No,” he says suddenly, tugging her closer by the arm and sending the front of her body colliding with his.

After that initial hesitation, things move exceptionally quickly. She pushes his suit jacket off his shoulders and then strips off his belt so aggressively that the leather snaps loudly, setting off gooseflesh all over his arms. He manages to get her top off before she slips her hand under his boxers, and he struggles with the clasp on her bra as she drags her fingernails over the papery skin of his scrotum. They’re still standing beside her kitchen table, and all the lights are on. He truly has no idea what will happen next.

Cool air slides over his legs when she pushes both his slacks and his boxers off his hips and they puddle on the floor around his feet. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears is so loud that it drowns out any rational thought. The only one that makes it through is sex . Sex and Scully , two words that he has carefully compartmentalized but are suddenly forcing their way into the very same box as she strokes him firmly with one hand and pops the buttons on his shirt with the other. Meanwhile, he’s got two handfuls of her perky little tits and is working up the nerve to divest her of her pants.

It doesn’t feel even a little bit real. Not when he takes her by the shoulders and guides her back to the table, not when his palms run down the length of her naked thighs as he removes her panties, not when he hoists her up and sets her bare ass down right on top of the manila envelope that brought him here in the first place.

“You’re sure?” he asks, though the fact that she’s got her hand wrapped around his shaft and is guiding him into her wet heat makes the question somewhat rhetorical.

Sex. Scully. Sex. Scully.

She takes him in with a gasp, and his knees wobble when she immediately quivers around him.

“ Shhhhiiiiit ,” he hisses under his breath.

He isn’t prepared for this. It’s been a few days since he jerked off, and under normal circumstances he’d spend as much time as necessary to make sure she got off before he even entertained the idea of coming himself. But it’s Scully, and she’s naked, and her little tits are perfect, and her cunt feels like heaven, and he’s so jacked up on all this E.B.E. shit that he’s operating on a hair trigger as it is.

Baseball. Parking tickets. Budget meetings. Airport security. He imagines something banal with each thrust, trying not to notice the slick sounds of just how wet she is.

It’s not working. Her hips jump up off the table as she slams herself into him, holding steady with one hand on the back of his neck and the other planted on the tabletop. They hold their faces close together, not quite kissing but not giving enough distance that they might meet eyes and realize how stupid this is. Mulder closes his eyes to block out the visual input of her tight pink nipples bouncing on every thrust and holds on for dear life, determined not to make this both a mistake and a disappointment.

“Oh god,” Scully shouts just before she clamps down on him.

Stars burst behind his eyes and he quickly goes from on the edge to careening over it, coming so hard he can barely stay standing. Scully throbs powerfully around him, moaning beautifully in his ear while her cunt strokes every last drop of cum out of him. By the time they’re both finished, she’s on her back and he’s draped over her, listening to her heart slow and wondering what the hell will happen now.

“There’s a roll of paper towels on the counter there,” Scully says, pointing just over his shoulder.

Mulder slowly stands and pulls out of her, and they both politely avert their eyes while he grabs the roll of towels and rips one off before handing it to her. After pulling his pants back up, he quickly retrieves her clothes from the various places they landed and turns his back while she dresses. The manila envelope is now sporting a wet spot in the shape of a wide “V,” which he carefully wipes away. Only then does it occur to him that they didn’t use a condom.

“I’m on birth control,” Scully says, as though reading his thoughts. He turns and looks at her just as she’s tucking her shirt back into her slacks, offering her an awkward smile that she returns.

“That’s reassuring,” he says.

He taps the edge of the damp envelope against his palm, trying to think of something to say that won’t come across as flip or crude.

“I’m sorry,” Scully begins, giving him only quick glances. “That was very unprofessional.”

Mulder laughs, and she looks at him sharply with a mildly bemused expression.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “Pretty sure it was a mutually unprofessional indiscretion. Takes two to tango, as they say.”

Scully smiles bashfully. “Right,” she says with a nod.

“We got a bit carried away. Happens,” he offers, and he sees her relax.

“Shouldn’t happen again, though,” she says, and he detects a hint of a questioning inflection.

“Right,” he agrees. “Well, I better get going,” he says as he moves towards the door. “Need to see a man about having a photograph analyzed.”

Scully’s expression of surprise quickly gives way to amusement.

“So that’s all it took to convince you, then,” she observes, clearly mildly embarrassed by her own joke.

“I am but a man,” he teases back, delighted by her genuine smile. “We’re um…we’re good?” he asks.

She meets his eye and nods. “Yup,” she says, seeming confident that they can move past this, if not still a bit chagrined that it happened in the first place.

“See you in the morning,” he says as she opens the door to let him out. He takes one step beyond the threshold, but then turns back and leans down to bring his lips to her ear. “I think it’s remotely plausible that somebody thinks you’re hot,” he whispers, then presses a kiss to her cheek before he turns and leaves.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic

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television-overload · 3 months

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chance encounter

an X-Files Fanfic

Read on AO3

Summary: "Six months after becoming fugitives from the US government, Mulder and Scully have a chance encounter with someone that is very important to them."

Word Count: 6,556

Tag List (let me know if you want taken off or added!): @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @mulderscully @perpetually-weirdening @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @slippinmickeys @teenie-xf @whovianderson

It was him.

There was no way to explain how he knew, but he did.

The little baby sitting in the puddle deep water at the end of the pool was William.

His hands, still chubby like they had been in his infancy, splashed excitedly, and Mulder could hear his squeals of delight over the sounds of the other children playing. An electric yellow swim shirt paired with a dinosaur-patterned bucket hat kept him shielded from the hot California sun, and he wore striped yellow and blue swimming trunks.

Mulder thought he'd never seen a swimsuit so small.

What were the odds that of all the places they could have traveled to, he was here?

They'd been on the road for 6 months, stopping at unremarkable motels and campgrounds all the way, never staying in one place for more than a few days at a time. It was a fluke they were even here at all.

Perhaps fate.

The hotel was certainly a step up from their usual accommodations, but Mulder had insisted. It was their anniversary, he said. Anniversary of what, Scully wasn't sure. The progression from coworkers to friends to lovers happened so gradually that it was hard to pin down a particularly important date for anything. But he wanted to celebrate, to find a brief reprieve from living in darkness, so they splurged a little on this modest, if slightly run-down, hotel by the ocean.

Where their son and his new family just happened to be vacationing.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about this possibility. In those nights where Scully was extra quiet, eager to fall asleep at the end of a long day, of course he'd lay awake and think, what if.

What if we found him? What if we saw our son again? What would we do?

The idea was so far-fetched that he hardly gave it any real consideration. His thoughts ranged from “steal him back, take him with us” to “pretend you never saw him and flee town.”

The urge to do the latter was strong. It was not safe here. They'd given him up for this very reason, what would be the point if their being here got him injured or worse? Was it really worth the risk to William? To Scully?

His next thought was 'Should I tell her?' Should he tell Scully he'd seen him? Would she want to see him too, even if from a distance?

The loss of their son had broken her heart. Broken his too, but not in the same way. She had spent months with him, almost a year, only to be forced to give him away with little time to prepare.

He knew she felt the loss like a phantom limb. Even all these months later, she still awoke with his name on her lips, panic written on her face as she looked around for him. It drove a stake through his heart every time, yet part of him felt he deserved it after leaving her to deal with it herself.

He watched the boy.

He'd only come out here to enjoy the sun, sit on one of the loungers for an hour or so while Scully took a nap in their room. It was a much more comfortable bed than they've had in a long time, though that wasn't saying much.

He hadn't bargained on having his whole world tipped upside down in the short time they were apart.

As stressful as it was, life on the road lended itself to relatively simple decisions. Fast food or canned? Motel or campground? Will you drive, or should I?

This was different.

Should he tell Scully?

The thought of keeping this from her made him feel sick. He couldn't do that.

Then again, would it hurt more to know? Ignorance is bliss, they say.

Mulder had never believed that, though.

The Truth, with a capital T, was the one thing that connected him and Scully. Though their beliefs and methods differed, they valued the Truth above all else. That was what drew them together. That was what propelled them forward, even now.

She had to know. She had to know her son was here, even if knowing might hurt.

She could make the decision for herself, whether she wanted to see him or get as far away from here as possible. It might be the last decision she makes as a mother, who would he be to keep that from her?

She might never forgive him.

Swallowing back emotion, Mulder stood to his feet, trying not to draw attention to himself as he made his retreat. His sunglasses thankfully hid the redness of his eyes, a small mercy in this endlessly unfair life.

He stole one last glance back at William. There was a chance this was the last time he'd ever see his son, his baby boy. If this was it, he'd treasure this moment for the rest of his life.

A woman dropped down beside William, showing him how to cup the water in his hands and throw it.

'A quick learner,' Mulder thought, watching as he gleefully tossed small handfuls of water in the air, giggling as it rained back down on him.

Okay. He could do this.

Find Scully. Tell Scully. Find Scully.

He rushed into the moldy-smelling hallway of the hotel, not bothering to take the elevator up to their floor. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, finding himself out of breath by the time he reached the 4th floor.

He nodded politely at a passing family decked out in beach gear, not wanting to draw suspicion. Once they were gone, he gave a quick rhythmic knock on the door to let Scully know it was him, then slipped his key card into the slot to unlock it.

The room was still dark, the curtains drawn tight to block out the midday sun, and he could hear soft breaths coming from the lump on the bed.

His heart twisted involuntarily as it so often did when he looked at her.

“Scully,” he whispered, approaching the bed. “Honey, wake up.” He settled on the side of the bed, placing a gentle hand atop her shoulder and jostling her just so.

“Mm,” she hummed, curling into her pillow. A good nap, then. That was nice, at least.

He shook her again, saying her name a little louder. “Scully, you need to get up.”

This time her eyes opened, sensing the serious undertone to his words. He could tell she was waiting for bad news, for him to tell her they needed to leave again. Wanting to put her worries at ease, he tried to smile.

“What is it?” she asked, blinking at him in confusion.

“Uh—” he hadn't gotten this far in planning what to say. But she was waiting for him now, so he needed to say something quick. “Scully, I saw some people outside...”

“Government people?” she asked, sitting up suddenly, ready to start packing.

“No, not the government,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders soothingly. “Scully—it's William.”

He could see the moment his words hit her. She blinked, like she might think she was still dreaming, but she saw the truth in his eyes. Her expression shifted.

He wasn't sure what reaction he expected, but his first guess wouldn't have been anger.

“Did you know he would be here?” she asked, her voice laced with hurt and betrayal. “Mulder, I told you not to look into it! Why—Why would you...”

“I didn't know,” he promised, begging the tears in his eyes to keep from falling. He clasped her hands in his, pulling them from their grip on the fabric of his shirt. “Scully, I swear I didn't know. I was just out at the pool, and—”

“You're sure it's him?”

His heart broke looking at her. Equal parts hope and dread, she didn't deserve this.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.”

She let out a shuddering breath.

“What do you think about that coincidence, huh?” he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

She shook her head.

“Mulder, we can't see him. It's not safe, it's not—”

“I know.” He didn't like interrupting her, but he didn't want her worrying unnecessarily about things she shouldn't. They had enough of that already, these days. If she didn’t think it was a good idea, he’d be okay with that. “We can leave, if you want. I just thought you should know.”

Her blue eyes met his, brimming with unshed tears.

“Is—Is he…?”

“He's beautiful, Scully,” Mulder answered her unspoken question. “He looks happy.”

She choked out a sob, and he immediately enveloped her in his arms, holding onto her tightly. She clutched at him like a life raft, and he ran his hand over her back in comforting circles, murmuring soft words into her ear.

“What do you want to do?” Mulder asked, knowing that time was ticking, and the little family might not stay out there much longer.

Scully sniffed.

“We could—we could go see him,” she said uncertainly, looking at him to decipher his thoughts on the matter. “From a distance.”

Mulder nodded, then stood, helping her to her feet.

“I'm with you,” he reminded her, grasping her hands tightly in his. “It'll be okay.”

With an arm slung around her shoulders, he led her out the door, this time opting to take the elevator down to the ground floor. Scully seemed nervous, almost frightened, and he didn't blame her. He tried to picture how he would feel if their positions were switched, and he couldn't imagine that he'd take it very well. Eventually, they reached the glass doors leading out to the outdoor pool, pausing for a moment.

“They can't see us,” Scully warned, looking anxious and ready to bolt, but she was glued to his side and scarcely able to move without his guidance. He nodded and took her hand, leading her out to a couple chairs in the corner, hopefully obscured enough by the shadow of the fence that they wouldn’t be seen. That bright neon shirt was still there, easy to spot, and Mulder felt tears rising to his throat again. This was the first time they had all three been in the same vicinity since those first few days when he was born.

He squeezed her hand, checking one last time to make sure she was okay. She searched his eyes, trusting him wholeheartedly, and he was certain he had never loved her more.

“Over there,” he said in a low whisper. “With the little hat on.”

Scully followed his line of sight, gasping when her eyes settled on the playful baby in the water.

What followed next was a sob, and he quickly lost his battle with the tears that stubbornly refused to go away. He wrapped his arms around Scully, offering her what solace he could, while his own chin wobbled miserably.

She alternated between sneaking glances at her son and crying into his shirt collar, muttering “Mulder,” desperately as he rocked her back and forth, his hand smoothing out her hair for her comfort as much as his own.

He couldn’t watch anymore. Seeing her like that... it made it hard to stay strong, but he needed to be. For her. He closed his eyes, pleading with the universe never to give her this kind of pain ever again.

When he opened them again, his stomach dropped to the floor.

The woman he'd seen earlier was looking at them, her eyebrows pinched in concern.

He cursed under his breath, his arms tightening around Scully. She was in no state to leave. The best they could do was avoid eye contact and keep to themselves.

But it looked like that wouldn't be enough.

The woman, William's adoptive mother, whispered something to the man she was with, nodding in their direction. His concerned face matched hers, and he nodded. With a sickening lurch, Mulder realized she was getting out of the water, wrapping herself in a towel and heading toward them.

It was too late. They'd been made.

“Scully,” he said, alarm creeping into his voice. She only had a moment's warning before the woman was there, glancing down at them with a worried frown.

“Is she alright?” William's mother asked, empathy oozing from her.

Mulder hurried to compose himself, knowing Scully was a lost cause at this point. It would be on him to get them out of this.

“She's fine, sorry,” he managed to speak, wracking his brain for a believable excuse. Best to stick close to the truth. “We—We can't have children, so—” he nodded toward their son, hoping she could fill in the blanks.

Looking behind her at the boy in the water, her face eased into one of understanding.

“Oh, I know how that feels,” she said, smiling consolingly. “Our son over there is adopted. Every day we thank God for blessing us with him. He's our little miracle.”

Scully grips him tighter, barely restraining a mournful wail. His heart sinks, knowing this interaction isn't going well at all.

He presses a desperate kiss to her hair, wishing he'd never exposed her to this pain. Wishing they were alone in the confines of their hotel room or car so she could let it all out without arousing suspicion. Wishing this woman, as kind-hearted and friendly as she seemed to be, would leave them alone.

“Are you sure she's okay?” she asked Mulder, brows furrowing again.

His hand rubbed up and down Scully's shoulder, and he nodded. “She will be. This is—hard for her.”

“Okay,” the woman said, not sounding fully convinced. “Let me know if there's anything I can do. Like I said, I've been where she is.”

“Thank you,” Mulder choked out, eyes flitting about, looking for their escape.

Through the gate. Through the hotel. Down to the beach.

“Oh, sorry,” William's mother spoke, turning back instead of leaving. “I never introduced myself. My name is—”

“No!” Scully stopped her, looking suddenly panicked and alert.

The woman startled at the outburst, jumping back slightly.

“Mulder, we can't know,” Scully said, looking pleadingly at him. “We can't know anything, we can't!”

“It's okay,” he said softly, coaxing her back from the edges of a total breakdown. “It's okay.” He looked back up at William's mom, smiling an unconvincing smile. “I think we'd really better get going. It was nice talking to you,” he said as he helped Scully to her feet. “Come on, hon, back to our room.”

It was hard to move quickly with Scully desperately clinging to him, but it wasn't the first time they'd been in this position. Once they got back inside, he'd run her a nice warm bath and apologize over and over for everything he'd ever done to hurt her.

They just. Had to. Get. Through—

“Wait.”

He froze.

“You're—You're his parents, aren't you? The ones who gave him up?”

Ice water filled his veins. He could feel Scully shaking like a leaf under his arm.

“We really should be going—” he tried, refusing to turn back around.

Her voice was closer now. “You are. I—there's so many things I've wished I could ask you. At least let me thank you. Please.”

Against his better judgement, he risked a glance back.

“Mulder, we have to go,” Scully begged, now standing on her own and pulling him by the hand. His feet were rooted to the ground, unable to take a single step forward or back.

“Just wait a minute, Scully,” he said, his brain running a mile a minute to calculate the amount of danger each potential course of action held.

He met the woman's eyes, serious.

“Look, this is not easy for her. For us. Our situation right now is—” his eyes scanned around for anything out of place, “We—We really shouldn't be talking to you.”

The woman stepped closer still, a pleading expression on her face.

“It was a closed adoption, I know. But—”

“I'm sorry. We can't.”

Scully looked exhausted, frightened, and sick all at once. Every second they stood there chipped away at her, the anxiety sinking deeper and deeper into her skin.

“You're right about one thing,” Mulder conceded, glancing over at his son and drinking in his unconcerned, innocent features.

The next words nearly choked him with sorrow.

“He is a miracle.”

They were meant to be parting words, a reminder to this woman to never take what she has for granted, but before he could move, a hand landed on his forearm, effectively stopping him.

“We'll let you see him,” the woman offered desperately, near tears herself. “Please. Just a few moments.”

And with that on the table, Mulder was torn.

On the one hand, this woman had offered them something invaluable: a chance to say goodbye, something they hadn't been able to do properly the first time.

On the other hand, it would be selfish. To put their son and his new family in danger simply because they got caught in a moment of weakness... it was unfathomable. He couldn't be responsible for more suffering. He didn't think he could bear it.

“Please?” the woman said again, squeezing his arm.

He had a decision to make. Glancing once more at Scully's crumpled face, he caught sight of the slightest hint of hope. A barely-there gleam that he'd tear down earth and heaven for the chance to brighten.

His decision was made for him.

Cursing his lack of willpower, he turned suddenly to meet the woman's eyes.

“Not here,” he whispered sternly, pointing in her direction. “Give us half an hour, then come to room 409.”

“409,” the woman repeated, nodding. “We will.”

Mulder hardened his jaw, giving one final nod before collecting Scully and hurrying off into the building without another glance back.

“This is dangerous, Mulder,” Scully said worriedly as they passed through the hall, though he knew deep down she was relieved that she might get to see her son again. He only hoped that this risk would be worth it, that they'd be able to find some semblance of peace here and leave feeling less like a part of them was missing when all this was over.

As soon as they entered their room, Scully broke down.

“Oh my god, Mulder,” she gasped, crouching low to the ground and covering her face with her hands.

He immediately dropped to his knees to help her up, ushering her over to their bed.

“Did you see him? He's gotten so big.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, a mix of happy and sad, and though he'd known Scully and her nonverbal cues for so long, he still wasn't quite sure what she needed right now.

“Yeah, I saw him, Scully,” he answered, pulling her into his lap and rocking her gently.

“Do you think they'll really come?” she asked, hopeful, but hesitant.

“We need to be prepared in case they don't,” he answered realistically, thinking of an entire squad of police cars surrounding the hotel with their flashing lights and sirens. “I can pack up the toiletries, you got the suitcase?”

She nodded, grateful to have something physical to do.

Mulder checked his watch. Twenty-five minutes. If they didn't come in twenty-five minutes, it was time to get out of dodge.

“I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then her lips. “I love you, Scully.”

“I love you too,” she answered, breathing deeply to calm herself. Checking one last time to make sure she was okay, he nodded and released her, each to their own assignments to ensure they were ready to make a quick escape if need be.

As the minutes passed, they became restless. They watched the clock, counting down the seconds until they should have arrived.

Their cutoff time came and went. Mulder was about to call it and give the signal to run, already gathering bags and suitcases, but the subtle knock on their door stopped him in his tracks. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing for Scully to stay quiet while he checked the peep hole.

The sight before him caused his shoulders to slump in relief.

“It's them?” Scully asked hopefully, reading his body language.

He gave a cautious smile back, then unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

There they were, William’s adoptive parents.

And William.

It nearly took his breath away.

This close. They were this close to him, after thinking they’d never see him again. He felt like a dehydrated man in a desert stumbling upon an oasis when he was sure he was going to die.

“Hi,” the woman said, looking more uncertain now that they weren’t out in the open. Her husband looked similarly guarded, but they were here, that was all that mattered.

“Uh, come in,” Mulder said, finding his voice.

He stepped aside to allow them entrance, and Scully immediately stood from her seat on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in front of her.

“I promise we’re not here to take him,” he assured them, closing the door behind them. “As much as we wish we could.”

Once the door was secure, he went to stand by Scully, placing a hand on her back.

“We were just passing through, I couldn’t believe it when I saw him sitting there in the pool.”

The woman nodded, still a little tense, but wanting to believe him.

“Small world,” her husband said, standing protectively next to his wife and child.

Mulder nodded.

“Look, there’s not much information we can give you. For his safety and yours, this is the way it had to be.”

“I always wondered where he came from,” the woman said. “I thought maybe a teen mom, or someone who just couldn't take care of him, but, you—”

“He was always wanted,” Scully spoke, finally able to speak for herself. Her voice came out strained, gasping for air between words. “I prayed for him for so long.”

Mulder's hand found hers, giving it a squeeze to lend her some of his strength.

“He was our miracle.”

The woman looked down, saddened by this news.

“But you were right,” Scully continued, steadying her voice. “We couldn't take care of him. Our life—it isn't stable enough for a child right now. It might never be again. So, I gave him up.”

“Didn't you have a family member who could have taken him? A friend?” the man asked. “Why a closed adoption?”

Scully shook her head, looking down at her feet. How she had wished she could have sent William to live with Bill and Tara, maybe even Charlie. But it wouldn’t have been enough. It would have only endangered more people she cared about.

“That's something we can't disclose,” Mulder answered for her. “But someday, when he asks, I want him to know...” He breathed, summoning the strength to form the words. “I want him to know that we loved him... so much.” With each breath he took, tears filled his eyes, clogging his throat until he wasn't able to speak anymore.

They would always love him, for as long as they lived. Giving him up wasn't going to change that.

“Well,” William's new mom said through tear filled eyes. “I can't tell you how much it means to us to have him.” Scully bowed her head, nodding along with a steady stream of tears. “I promise to take good care of him. He'll be safe and happy with us.”

“Thank you,” Scully whispered, unable to look the man and woman in the eyes.

“We've been worried about him,” Mulder admitted, “hoping he was alright...” He checked in with Scully, reading her like he was so good at doing, before deciding it was safe to speak for them both. “I think, seeing that he is... is a huge weight lifted off our shoulders.”

Scully gave a nod in agreement, looking up at Mulder with something of a promise. A promise that they would be okay, eventually.

“I can't imagine what you must have gone through,” the woman said. “But we are so thankful. He—I don't suppose you want to know his name?”

“No,” Scully said quickly. “I—we can't. I couldn't handle the temptation.”

The temptation to track him down, just for the chance to see him again. That was a dream that could never be.

“What did you call him?” the woman asked, and Mulder squeezed Scully's hand again, letting her know it was okay. It was a common enough name, there couldn’t be any harm in telling her the truth.

“William,” she answered. “His name was William.”

To hear it spoken aloud after all this time was a relief. It had been almost taboo the past six months, too painful a word to be uttered. But now, there was something freeing about letting his name hang in the air.

Letting go, Mulder realized. They had to let him go.

“Well...” the woman began again, smiling at them reassuringly. “William is such a bright and curious child. He loves building towers out of blocks and throwing things at it to knock it down. He—He has this stuffed fox he takes everywhere. They're practically inseparable. His first word was 'mama'. He likes watching baseball and hockey with his dad. He—He's everything we could have hoped for, and more. So, thank you. Thank you for making such a beautiful child for us to love.” Her eyes shone with happiness, the kind which Scully wondered if she’d ever felt. “I knew you had to be remarkable people, because he's a remarkable child.”

“And now we know where he gets those lips and that hair from,” the father added, lightening the mood as much as possible, under the circumstances. “He's covered in sunscreen, must be your genes,” he said, nodding at Scully with a smile. And wonder of wonders, she laughed, a sudden, unexpected thing, and leaned into Mulder's side.

“We should let you go,” Mulder said after a moment, hating that it had to be done. “We'll need to be heading out soon.”

“To where?”

“We can't tell you that.”

Will's adoptive father's eyes met those of his biological one, and a look of understanding passed between them.

Adjusting her hold on William, the woman spoke, glancing between them as she did.

“I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you a moment with him.”

Scully's head snapped to attention.

“You've already sacrificed so much,” she continued, “And I trust you. You're doing what's best for—for William. I know you have his best interests at heart.”

Mulder wished, wished, wished he could honestly say it was in William's best interests to be with him and Scully... but it wasn't. The truth of their reality was such that it could never be. Not through any fault of their own as parents—but because of external forces working against them, desperate to tear them apart and leave them with nothing.

But they had failed.

Because what they had was more than nothing. They had each other. And though they would have to live with the knowledge that a part of them was missing, maybe after today they would be able to make peace with what they do have. To live life to the fullest given the circumstances they've been forced to survive in.

In truth, he hadn't felt this hopeful about the future since the moment Scully first placed his son in his arms. There was still a mountain of hardships to surmount, but it didn't seem quite as impossible as before. And it was all thanks to a chance encounter with their son, at the precise moment they needed him most.

“We'll leave you be,” Will's mother spoke, checking with her husband to make sure he agreed. “If you need us, we'll be downstairs having some coffee.”

Scully's brows slanted in worry. “You don't have to go, it's okay,” she said, wanting to stop them.

“You deserve some time alone,” the woman said kindly, shaking her head. “I can see how much you need it, dear.”

Scully's chin wobbled, dangerously close to another round of tears.

And then she was coming toward them, William perched on her hip. She deposited him right into Scully's disbelieving arms, and Mulder immediately felt his throat close, the sight one he'd seen almost every night in the most heart wrenching of his dreams.

This was what he'd hoped to come home to after his time in the desert. This was what kept him sane between bouts of torture in a prison cell. To see it now was equal parts fulfilling and painful.

“I can give you something, a guarantee we won't run off with him,” he choked out, working to free his wrist from his moderately expensive watch. William's dad reached a hand out and stopped him.

“We trust you,” he said with a sad smile. “We'll be back in an hour. Please, take all the time you need.”

And with that, they left the room.

As soon as they were gone, Scully's head dropped to rest against the strawberry blond locks of their son, and she let out a sob.

“William,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his head. He seemed unfazed, and part of Mulder wondered if he still remembered her. If deep down, he knew this was the woman who had once fed him from her own body, sung him to sleep in an off-tune melody, soothed him when he had nightmares...

It wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

The same couldn't be said for him, however.

“I can't believe this, Mulder,” Scully cried, her tears falling into his downy-soft hair. Mulder led her back to the bed, sitting beside her with their son on her lap. “Did you hear what they said? He's so much like you, watching sports on TV, knocking his blocks down... He'll be throwing pencils at the ceiling in no time.”

That brought a small smile to his face, and he leaned to his right to press a kiss to Scully's forehead, his hand falling into place on their son's back.

William leaned away, taking in the new faces with a curious tilt to his head.

“Hey, bud,” Mulder said, offering him a finger to hold. For all the time he'd spent thinking of what he'd say to his kid if given the chance, he was coming up short now that he was face-to-face with the reality. “I missed you so much,” he managed to say, “And look how much you've grown!”

William reached out, holding his hands up in front of him, and Mulder's heart leapt. Glancing at Scully for permission, he slid his hands under his arms, lifting him to his chest and nuzzling him close.

“Oh, Scully,” he said, beginning to cry again, feeling the weight of William on his chest, real and tangible. “Sometimes I thought it was all a dream. But we have a son.”

It was hard to think of him out in the world, when he was hardly more than an idea. But now—he had face to put to the name, a personality to remember. He had a son.

She nodded, watching them with a watery smile. He pulled back just to look at him again, to memorize those chubby cheeks and the way he smelled. The precise shape of his eyes, their color, still the same as his mother's.

“I'm so glad we stayed here, Mulder,” Scully whispered. “To think I tried to talk you out of it...”

“Fate was working its magic, Scully,” he said, cutting her off. “This was meant to be.”

For the next hour, they played on the floor together, using Mulder's keys as a toy to hold William's attention. He was walking now, and took turns toddling between them, excitedly holding the TV remote in one hand and squealing when they praised him for successfully making it without tripping or falling.

For a while, they could almost forget this wasn't real. That they weren’t on borrowed time, already risking things they shouldn't be for this blissful moment of being a family.

Mulder got to see Scully as a mother. She saw him as a father. Finally, they had the chance to step into those roles, feeling fulfilled in ways they never could have imagined. It went far beyond any truth that once lay hidden in the X-Files. Nothing in that office of theirs could have given them purpose like this. Only each other, and the life that was formed out of the love that was sparked right there in the basement of the Hoover building so many years ago.

Mulder had always wondered how it would sound to hear the words “da da da” come from a child's mouth, and to know they meant him. Though his babbling wasn't intentional, merely a repetition of the same syllables “da” and “ma” over and over again, he was soaking it in. Committing it to memory. Praying—because only something like this could drive a man like him to prayer—that his son would think about him. Would think about his mother. That he'd grow to know and understand and appreciate the heartache they suffered at giving him away.

That maybe he'd love them too, despite never knowing them.

And maybe.

Maybe.

One day, they'd see each other again.

It was getting late. Scully could tell it was past William's bedtime. She laid him on their bed, and laid down beside him on her stomach, content just to look at him and be near him for however much time they had left.

Mulder joined her on the other side, resting a hand on top of William's gently rising and falling belly.

“I love him more than I ever knew was possible,” he whispered, and noticed as Scully wiped away a tear.

“It hurts, knowing we have to say goodbye.”

Mulder nodded, reaching a hand over William to rub circles on Scully's back.

“But not as much as it hurt before.”

Mulder remembered how Scully screamed, when he first found her in that dirty, abandoned house in Georgia.

“Don't take my baby. Please don't take my baby.”

It was different now.

This time, it was on their own terms. Their curiosities were satisfied, the things they always would have wondered about.

Who he resembled more. What his voice sounded like. His smile and his laugh when he was happy. The way he scrunched his face when he wasn't.

But above all else: would he be okay?

And now that they knew without a doubt that he was? They could let him go.

As much as any parent could let go of a piece of their soul, their own flesh and blood.

He would always be a part of them. They would always wish things could have gone differently. But at least now, Mulder had had a chance to say goodbye. At least Scully wasn't being forced to leave him with little warning, worrying that she was abandoning him to an unknown fate.

A blanket of peace fell over this humble, outdated hotel room. And for the last few minutes they would spend as parents together, Mulder and Scully counted themselves lucky. For this time was a gift, far more than they could have ever hoped to receive.

The same knock from earlier sounded, and a heavy feeling settled in Mulder's chest. He dragged himself away from the bed, while Scully lifted the sleeping William into her arms and held him close.

“How did he do?” their son's mother asked, looking perfectly at ease in a way that calmed and reassured him.

“Great,” Mulder answered. “He—He's perfect.”

The time had come. Scully knew it too. They'd already stayed longer than they should have. He knew there was a long night of driving through pitch darkness ahead of them, and he really, really didn't want to go.

But he had to do what was right for his son. That was all he ever wanted to do, as a father. He just didn't want to be the one to break Scully's heart all over again.

“I guess this is it,” Scully said, sounding calmer than he would have expected. He knew her, though, and he could see the emotions brewing beneath the surface.

It would be a tearful night for both of them.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” she said to William's new mom, stepping fatefully toward her. But before she could pass him over, she paused, looking down at him for the last time in her own arms. “William?” she spoke, her voice strained. “Mommy loves you.”

“Daddy loves you too, baby boy,” Mulder said, never having referred to himself as such before, but wanting to know how it felt.

He cupped the sleeping child's head, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then another, not able to convince himself that each would be the last.

“I'm so sorry, William. Be good for your mom and dad, okay?”

Scully leaned against him, her strength beginning to wane.

“Goodbye,” she said, kissing him desperately all over, playing with his socked foot and each of his tiny fingers. “I want to believe I will see you again someday.”

As they passed him over, together this time, William's new parents smiled tearfully.

“If—If he suddenly gains an interest in Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster,” Mulder began in a worried, cautionary tone, “just buy him some picture books. He'll be okay.”

Though it easily could have been a joke, no one laughed. In fact, the man and woman nodded, taking his advice to heart. He felt better knowing their son would be accepted, no matter who he grew up to be. The child of the FBI's most unwanted was sure to be a bit of a loner.

“And tell him he'll grow into his nose. Sort of,” he added, this time eliciting a small smile from Scully.

“I promise, we'll tell him every day how loved he is,” the woman vowed. “I'm glad we met you.”

“I'd call it a God-given miracle,” the man said, and he reached out a hand to Mulder to shake. “Stay safe,” he said, then catching sight of Scully's necklace. “We'll be praying for you.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

Mulder's arms suddenly felt empty. He could see Scully felt the same, wrapping hers around her own torso just for something to hold. He enveloped her in an embrace, holding tight to keep both her and himself from chasing after them.

“Bye,” the woman said over her shoulder, her worried eyes unwilling to turn away from the sad couple they'd met. She gave a small, consoling smile, and lifted William's pudgy hand to wave goodbye.

Mulder and Scully waved half-heartedly in return, smiling as genuinely as they could, and watched as they disappeared through the door.

Once they were gone, Scully turned into Mulder's chest and held tight. His cheek rested on top of her head, and they swayed, silent but for the sound of the ocean nearby.

“We're gonna be okay,” Scully said at last. “Mulder—”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with sincerity and love.

“We're gonna be okay.”

#x files #txf #xf fanfic #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #msr fanfic #post-series #the truth #william mulder #jackson van de kamp #chance encounter

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singeart · 1 month

Text

Okayy we got a Voyager science officer cosplay to make, here(wa)s the plan:

Using an existing pattern I found on etsy, I made adjustments based on vibes reference pictures of Janeway from Night and seeing what other people have made before (shout out to thresholdbb I was Looking at their past cosplays).

Treksona presentation to illustrate the changes I made~

Half the battle was decoding what the vintage pattern instructions were trying to tell me 🤡 but eventually with the help of the internet and my mom on call I figured out each step!

Oh and I had to learn how to iron and how the whole dang sewing machine worked, oiling it, threading the bobbin and needle, I even took apart the foot pedal at one point because I thought it wasn't working lol.

The mockups below, I made one out of Swedish tracing paper and the next one out of cotton (curtains I thrifted) after confirming that it would probably fit:

Turned out pretty good but I decided to move the front seams over just a bit...

Laying out the final pattern:

Cutting out the final pieces was really exciting it was starting to look like something!!

Detail shots below... I didn't feel like I could get the crispness I wanted for the shoulder points with the machine so I did it by hand :')

The shoulder pads were very exciting to put in as well!! I asked the person at JoAnn what the difference was between the two different shoulder pads I had picked up and they said one was more 80s power suit-- that was definitely the one I wanted for this jacket hehe

The final jacket below with a top I found on ebay (also found boots from there)!!! I ended up putting the sleeves in with a machine and ummm there's some puckering I'm trying not to be annoyed about h a h a. I may go back and fix that eventually I don't know... The invisible zipper I got didn't work either so I need to replace that somehow too hrm.

Anyway, I thrifted pants because I didn't want to tackle a whole other piece; I just added fabric to the bottom because they were a smidge short and then cut the iconic vent.

Here's the jacket on me, taken with a weird camera angle so the shoulders are a bit wonky at the edges haha but look!! I lined everything up so well!!

(comm badge and pips from etsy)

I felt ready to go hop on a ship sign me up for first contact I'm ready 🫡

Awright Lessons I Learned:

sewing projects take much much longer than anticipated (I went to stsf and was sewing licherally the night before and morning of. I know it's the convention experience but I was a tad stressed lol)

hand sewing in particular takes forever but I enjoyed it!

people are right to complain about setting in sleeves what da hell was that

flannel (what I used for the black part because it matched the pants the best) was great to work with

linen (the best teal they had in the store) was not!! doesn't iron well, doesn't sew well I don't want to use it ever again <3

this was my first sewing project Ever and I still was pretty hard on myself e h e..........much to think about...

Final words of wisdom from my mom:

Back to the Scully blouse soon!! After a little break :) Thanks for reading!

#star trek cosplay #voy #voy cosplay #voyager cosplay #singesewing #treksona #it was my first convention ever too I had a lot of fun!!#kinda wish i entered the cosplay contest just to get more feedback on my costume loll ah well #yeah i clearly didnt make the scully blouse for halloween haha i wore something else to be her #dont underestimate my ability to put off learning new things </3

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sixhours · 2 months

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Morning Sickness

Rating: Teen Word count: 1.2k

Notes: Post-ep for season 11. That “season finale” inspired me to try to make sense of the nonsense, and maybe give Mulder and Scully a chance to start to deal with the shit they’ve been dragged through.

Originally posted to AO3, Mar. 26 2018

It's dawn when Mulder shifts the car into park. A drizzle mists the windshield, muddying the house’s looming form, the dim glow of the porch light their only welcome. Next to him, Scully sleeps deeply, his jacket tucked into the crook of her neck.

He reaches across the console to touch her cheek. "We're home."

She stirs, blinking, before fumbling at the door handle in a rush. She's out of the car before he can offer to help, making her way to the house. He watches with concern as she pauses at the foot of the steps, leaning on the porch railing for a moment as if to catch her breath, before disappearing around the side of the house. He winces when he hears retching.

Skinner was going to make it, they said; a lumbar spinal fracture and two broken legs meant he had a long recovery ahead, but he was alive.

Reyes hadn't been so lucky. Mulder found her slumped in the driver's seat of Spender's car, blood pooling in the corner of her eye. Scully had moaned softly behind him, turned, vomited bile onto the pavement.

It wasn't until later that he remembered; Reyes had delivered William, had held him as he'd taken his first breath.

Mulder shudders, stumbling forward to check on Scully, finds her crouched over the overgrown garden. There's a lone rhubarb stalk struggling to greet the day, leaves beaded with rain, a survivor among the bittercress and chickweed.

"You OK?" he asks, feeling helpless.

"I need to eat," she murmurs, standing. "The nausea is worse if I don't."

He reaches for her hand, takes it, guides them inside. She shrugs off her coat, then ducks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Mulder stands in the kitchen, unsure where to begin. It had felt good -- too good -- to put aside reason, to put his finger on the trigger, aim, and let the bullets do the rest. He thinks of gunpowder residue and blood spatter, pushes up his sleeves and scrubs his hands until they're raw.

When that's done, he opens the fridge. She needs to eat. Bread, lettuce, turkey; this, he can manage. As he works, he doesn't think about the water lapping at the dock, doesn't think about watching himself fall backwards, doesn't think about the bullet lodged between his son's eyes.

He cuts the sandwich in half and sets it on the table with a glass of milk. She doesn't like milk, but it's good for the baby, right?

The baby. Christ.

He sinks into a chair as the weight of the day hits him. When she comes out, bathrobe cinched around her waist, he's staring at the table with his head propped in his hands.

"Thank you," she murmurs, sitting down, picking up half the sandwich and taking a small bite. Her expression is distant and closed, the dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion. It's a long time before she speaks again, and when she does, her voice is almost inaudible.

"I had a...a vision," she murmurs, sipping her milk. "I saw William."

Mulder's pulse throbs, a glimmer of hope expanding in his chest. "You...he's alive? You're sure?"

She nods, avoiding his eyes. Bite, chew, swallow, sip. Repeat.

"How...?" he leans forward.

"I don't know," she sighs.

"If it's true, there's still a chance we could find him," Mulder says, thinking aloud. "We could--"

"Mulder, stop. Not now, I can't..." She trails off, ducking her chin, and he thinks of the warmth of her stomach against his blood-flecked palm. "He can't be another quest. You have to let him go."

Mulder swallows. "But...he's alive."

She nods, pushing the plate back. "He's weak, but he's safe. For now."

"Then he'll find us," he says, more to himself than to her. "Someday. When he's ready."

She presses her lips together. When she answers, her voice is hollow. "I'm going to bed."

"Scully..."

But she's already on her feet, moving toward the stairs. He watches her go, feeling lost, unmoored.

He's alive.

Mulder wraps the untouched half of the sandwich and puts it in the fridge, pours the leftover milk in the sink.

He finds her in the upstairs bathroom, staring into the mirror, her reflection haunted and pale. Steaming water runs into the basin, unnoticed.

"Scully?"

She startles, meeting his eyes before reaching for a cloth, but doesn't answer.

"Talk to me, Scully," he says, wishing for a church, for the ease they found over a prayer candle.

"Everything," she frowns, rubbing at her face with the cloth until the freckles across her nose burn pink. "Everything I tried to prevent for him, everything -- it came true."

She dabs lotion on her chin, under her eyes, punctuating each word with angry, jerky movements. "I lived with the guilt of his adoption, but there's nothing I could have done," she says, turning and striding past him to stuff the cloth into the hamper. "I never had a choice."

"Scully--"

"They used me, Mulder," she whirls on him, voice rising. "They used my body to make monsters. And I loved them, and they were taken from me. How can I bring another child into the world with that on my conscience? What hope do I have of keeping them safe, when everything that's come before has been ripped from my hands?"

She breaks off, her breath ragged, swiping at the corners of her eyes.

"What they did to you is unforgivable," he says, approaching her. "But this...this is different. You have a choice."

"I can't do it again," she breathes, eyes pressed shut. "Damnit, Mulder. It's not fair."

"No. No, it's not. But you don't have to do it alone," he whispers, taking her face in his palms, searching her eyes. "Do you want this, Scully?"

"I do," she says, her voice cracking as the tears pool in the whorls of his thumbs. "I do, so much. But I wish I didn't."

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. "So we'll make it work."

He imagines he can feel her eye-roll against his chest, but she softens. "Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that. I'll trade in the Mustang for a minivan, we'll get a Baby Björn--"

She sniffs. "What the fuck is a Baby Björn?"

"I have no idea," he admits, chuckling. "But if the number of missed calls on my phone from Kersh is any indication, we'll have a lot of free time to figure that out."

"I'm fifty-four, Mulder," she sighs, her voice small.

"And your breasts will be the envy of every grandma at the AARP."

She barks a laugh into his chest, fists gripping the fabric of his shirt as her laughter dissolves into a sob. He nuzzles the hair at her temple, kisses it, sways with her until the storm passes.

"What can I do?" he murmurs when her breathing has calmed.

"Just...hold me."

"That's what got us into this mess," he says, nudging her cheek with his nose, eliciting a tired smile. He pulls back the covers and follows her into bed, pulling her back against his chest. His fingers trace the line of her hip.

Tentatively his hand slides forward to her abdomen, barely touching, asking permission. She places her palm over his in answer, pressing down, guiding him to the spot just above her pubic bone where a gentle swell has already formed. He swallows hard, overcome with love and sadness and fatigue.

"I don't have it in me to hope for this, Mulder," she murmurs, her voice rough.

He kisses her cheek, whispering a prayer to the nape of her neck. "Sleep. I'll find enough hope for the both of us."

#the x-files #fanfic #season 11 #fox mulder #dana scully #fox mulder x dana scully #post-episode

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deathsbestgirl · 4 months

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Pls, talk about how M and S where physically attracted to each other from the get Go. Thanks

oh man, i think they really are. but they're so interesting because they don't exactly care? i've said before they don't prioritize sex, or even romantic relationships. it really builds the tension between them (and for us) until it's unbearable. it colors so many of their interactions (and interactions with other people).

like. the pilot. mulder is ready to distrust scully, completely. he tries to be off-putting. he lets her know he believes her to be a spy. scully knows who he is, she's excited for a field assignment, but not exactly thrilled with what they want her to do. she isn't considered an open mind, but personally i think that's patently false. she just relies a lot on facts and science because they make her feel comfortable, safe. but she really thrives when she steps out of her comfort zone, and mulder is the reason she gets to do that.

they gaze at each other from the moment their eyes meet. to me, it's a soul recognition neither was prepared for. it's palpable. gentle & probing at first.

they immediately go head to head with their knowledge & beliefs & theories. and they enjoy it. they just like each other so much. it's the start of a dance they'll do for the rest of their lives. it's a challenge, but it's one they've craved their whole lives & never found until each other.

looks are noticed first, but what really gets them is the other's mind. they're both so attracted to other's mind. they spend their days learning the other. the paths their minds take, what makes the other tick, what makes the other crack a smile. it ends up being their compassion & dedication to the truth, the respect & authenticity, their honor & integrity. their goodness. that gets to them. their shared values, even if their methods are different. it's what moves their connection beyond attraction, turning it into its own presence.

mulder lets scully in when she exposes her vulnerability, a willingness to believe even if she fights it every step of the way.

like. not a single look they share in the pilot is uncaring or indifferent. skeptical, careful sometimes, yes. but they're all intense & heated, focused, underlined with attraction they feel & don't yet understand. attraction they won't explore in the ways they might have in the past.

after the motel room, he starts guiding her out of rooms, putting his hand gently on her back. and the touching only picks up between them. scully is always pulling him back, tethering him, trying to care for him. she never forgets the conversation in his motel room. his surprise, his openness, his pain. how caring & gentle he was, not daring or even considering taking advantage she probably would have willingly given him. (if not for their past experiences with relationships in professional settings lol)

the more they prioritize the work & their partnership, the more they come to trust only each other...they eliminate the possibility of ever being with someone else meaningfully. they don't know it at the beginning, but they make the choice over and over again.

(scully LOVES her job, you guys. she loves what she does with mulder, loves working with him & his brilliant mind, loves the adrenaline & danger, loves the crazy science she gets to see & do, loves speaking for the dead and being in the victims' side. and in a way, it's really all because of him. she followed him for his belief in the truth & his compassion for forgotten people, she stays because she believes in him. and everyday that's a miracle to mulder, though he would never call it that.)

mulder is territorial of scully by the time we get to squeeze, and she wants him to be. she says it then pulls back, believing she's being presumptive. i love that moment because mulder doesn't let her dismiss it. he tells her of course he is and plays with her necklace. he's flirty & intimate and he talks about their work, the only thing he cares about and he's been willingly taking her along, and this time she took him along.

mulder let her into his work in the pilot, the most personal part of his life. every case is a date even if he doesn't say it — barring maybe the ones that are deeply personal or dangerous, but scully is still there every step of the way. she bares witness and she helps him, she desperately tries to tell him what no one else ever has. stop looking for your sister. but he can't and she never really expected him to, all she can do is follow him and help him find his answers...when he's ready.

keeping boundaries only amps up their attraction. mulder is always in her personal bubble. sometimes it flusters scully — fox mulder's attention focused on you is always intense & meaningful, overwhelming & intoxicating. usually she just accepts it and enjoys it. he loves doing it to her. she never rejects him, so he never stops. never. and she really does bask in it. it becomes a habit, their norm.

they show off in their debates. mulder loves when she talks science, almost bludgeoning him with her logic & knowledge. even when he's just trying to have those late night talks with thoughts you don't share with just anyone. he loves who she is and doesn't want her to be any other way. he loves when she's tells him he's wrong. he wouldn't change a thing (despite his occasional frustration at her disbelief).

(all his flirty quips are real, but not serious.)

and scully, she's the only one allowed to tell him he's crazy (which he also loves, because she stays). she will defend her mulder & his theories to anyone else, she proves what she can (and if she happens to disprove his theory, it only helps him to refine it and sends them down a new path). when he stops believing, she tries so hard to reignite it. she's afraid to believe, but she depends on his belief.

mulder + scully are the only people who can keep up with each other — even when she thinks she's lagging behind & holding him back, that's never really true. it takes her a long time to verbalize it, and it takes him a while to figure out she needs (craves) his validation. to him, scully doesn't need anything from anyone but he wants to give her everything, whatever she will allow. he tries to desperately to be the shoulder she leans on and show her it's okay to be vulnerable. something he can tell she struggles with, despite what happened in the pilot. she values it so much in him and suppresses it so much in herself.

he honors her vulnerability in the pilot, he's gentle with her in beyond the sea (until she scares the daylights out of him), in lazarus her prioritizes her grieving over the truth. when she's abducted, he wears her cross around his neck. he asks her mom about her, tries to help maggie keep her faith. in firewalker he cradles her face, so similar to beyond the sea. in irresistible he tilts her chin up and holds her as she sobs into his chest, so similar to the pilot when she rushes into his arms. and on and on. he always fights like hell for her whenever she needs help.

all of this only makes their attraction more intense, and more scary. the easiest way to get to mulder is through scully. and all of the crazy things scully does are for mulder.

the attraction is always there. bubbling under the surface, making the room crackle. making others uncomfortable just being in the same room with them. it's always intimate & private. something no one else is invited to, making others intruders.

it's why they're mistaken for a couple most of their partnership. it's why missy yells at mulder in one breath, urging him to go to scully. they don't look at each other like simple coworkers or friends, they don't talk about each other like merely colleagues.

i am so so sorry, this is not how i intended it to come out so here are some pictures:

#mulder and scully #the x files #pilot #so many episodes mentioned soooo #and lots of pictures

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randomfoggytiger · 2 months

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Collector's Fic: Mulder, Scully, and Courthouse Weddings

Mulder and Scully and weddings-- do they or don't they? In this case they do and they don't.

Tagging @pookie-mulder, who inspired this idea!

Loose chronological order below~

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls’s

in another world - Chapter 22

it happens in vegas, of course, and it happens because of langly and melissa.... it’s directly following mulder’s breakup with diana, and he’s been moping around the hotel room the entire time; dana is in the midst of stressing over a big test for medical school, and has refused to leave the hotel room so that she can study to the point of driving melissa crazy.

AU-- Pre-S1 Mulder and Scully meet and marry in Las Vegas.

I wish you would write a fic where Mulder and Scully are married and domestic af. AU, obviously.

...Mulder and Scully are married on August 16, at a courthouse in Virginia. The date has no significance, no probable reason to get married then—and that, Mulder says, is why it's perfect.

AU S7 Scully is appalled at her and Mulder's shamelessly gooey "married" behavior.

#32: It looks good on you.

He says, “Wanna get married today?”

She lifts her head to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise and maybe an ounce of caution. She says, “You're kidding.”

“Dead serious, Scully.”

AU S7 Mulder and Scully get hitched on a spur-of-the-moment October day.

Five Moments Mulder and Scully Shared (And One They Didn't) (Tumblr)

The new weight is unfamiliar on her hand, but not in a bad way. She grabs his hand and presses a kiss half against his finger and half against his own ring as they huddle together on the steps of the courthouse.

AU Post S11 Mulder and Scully get a second chance at their entire lives; and determine to make better choices with each other.

@silhouetteofacedar/SilhouetteOfACedar's Pearl, Ch. 1 (Ao3)

Scully shakes her head. “Sorry, no. I’m just nervous.”

“We can keep holding hands, if you want,” he says quietly. “Play the part of a happy couple for a few minutes.”

She glances at him to see if he’s joking. He’s not; his face is strangely serious.

He should be joking, she thinks.

AU-- Mulder and Scully wed after her cancer diagnosis.

@mchalowitz's (Ao3) chain reaction, part 5

Mulder doesn’t bring up the proposal for three days. He figures he should mention it before the weekend because after two days apart, the seriousness of it will wear off. It’ll just be an awkward occurrence, not a real offer.

“Should we get you a ring?”

Scully coughs out a laugh and glances at him briefly from the filing cabinet.

AU-- Between Scully's cancer and Teena Mulder's drama, Mulder and his partner are able to find a brief, bright spot: their marriage.

@leiascully's (Ao3) Mulder told Scully he would do whatever he could

They get married. It’s a quickie courthouse wedding with Maggie and Tara as their witnesses. Bill refuses to be any part of it.

AU-- Mulder and Scully get married and leave the FBI to adopt and raise Emily.

@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s

All a Family

They get married at the courthouse. They bring her mom.... But she smiles during the ceremony, at least, and Scully does too, a little shyly, and Mulder knows he does, in a way he can’t contain.

AU-- Mulder tells Scully about her ova after her remission; and the two have successfully begun an IVF pregnancy and started the adoption process for Emily when they decide to wed for better chances.

Ficlet: “Marry Me” (Ao3)

She stops where she is. “Are you serious?”

He pauses a moment to consider, and then he says, “I’m serious.”

...She’s next to the bed now. “Yes, then.”

AU-- Post Requiem Mulder asks Scully to marry him.

Readjustment

She feels a little bit guilty that she can’t give her mom what she wants, when there’s so much she’s missed out on. Maybe she would have wanted it herself once, but not anymore, now. “We just…we don’t want to wait, Mom,” she says, and maybe that’s silly, since they’ve already waited quite a while. Since they already have a child together, a life, love. But that is how they feel.

AU-- Mulder, Scully, and William are readjusting to life as free citizens no longer on the run... well, Mulder and Scully are, anyway.

@scully-loves-ruthie's Better Call Scully

“Mulder, look at me. He faces downward eyes locked on hers. “Do you really believe that you’ll never stake someone thinking they’re a vampire only to find out too late you were wrong... again?”

He stares at her weighing his response before offering a playful smile as he pulls her toward the courthouse

“That’s what I thought.” She mutters quickening her pace to remain in step with him.

AU-- Post Bad Blood Mulder and Scully get married for "practical" reasons (of course.)

@cauldronoflove/thegoodthebadandthenerdy's All I Need's a Fraction of Your Happy Heart

(Mulder had meant his proposal, sure, but in the end it was Scully who proposed. Neatly and to the point, but so full of an unrestrained want and sincerity that Mulder had covered her hand across the crayon-scribbled tabletop without even checking left or right.)

AU-- S7 Scully reflects on the journey from her recent marriage to Mulder while she and her partner are on a case.

AU/Married/ISTJ reflects how banter had turned to serious convo/duo both proposed/courthouse/giddy together on case-- All I Need's a Fraction of Your Happy Heart - [Archive]

@msrafterdark's (Ao3) MSR // Ficmas Day 30 - Fireworks

Their belongings are all in storage save for a few toiletries and some clothes for their honeymoon next week. They're signing for a house next month. A simple but beautifully elegant wedding dress hangs on the back of the door of Scully's childhood bedroom. A bundle of wedding presents from relatives and friends--including a rather suspiciously-wrapped gift with the initials "TLG" scrawled on it--sit on Maggie's kitchen table. Even AD Skinner is stopping by for the courthouse appointment tomorrow.

AU-- S7 Mulder and Scully enjoy the night before their wedding together.

beduini/Beduini's Legitimate

The baby moves again and he smiles, a wide, cheek-splitting smile. After a few more minutes, he raises up on his forearm once more and looks down at her with eyes shining, as if he'd just solved a case. "Hey Scully, we got married today."

Her lips turn up in a slight, amused smile. "Yes, Mulder, we did."

AU-- Post Vienen Mulder and Scully hit up the courthouse.

Vickie Moseley’s (Ao3, Gossamer)

Mother of the Bride

"Dana," I whispered, holding my breath and hoping my suspicions about this 'appointment' were correct. "Can you tell me what this is all about?"

Suddenly, Fox was on the phone. "Call it an early birthday present, Mrs. Scully. And maybe a late Mother's Day Present, as well."

Post Existence Mulder and Scully wed at the courthouse.

@aloysiavirgata’s (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ) A Tent of Shelter (Ao3)

She smiles at him, her lopsided grin. “Mulder, what can change, really? The taxes. The health insurance. But I think we’ve reached some point of terminal commitment, don’t you think? And you can hardly imagine I’ll be Doctor Mulder. So do I like the idea? I do, very much. But it’s hardly shocking.”

“Scully my love, you need to read more romance novels.”

Post IWTB Mulder wants to get married for his birthday.

@agentscully/agent_scully2084's Important Traditions

With minimal protest, Scully allowed Mulder to carry her over the threshold, laughing as Mulder explained the symbolism of the ancient tradition and appeared to take seriously his duty to protect his new bride from evil spirits.

Post IWTB Mulder and Scully get married in khakis and blue.

@scully/humancredentials's "Did you just call me 'baby' in front of my mother?"

She looks like she’s about to say that yes, something is wrong and that he shouldn’t antagonize her brother that way and even though they’re living together now, even though they’re ink on the paper official, sworn to each other in a courthouse in rural Virginia in front of her mother, her God, and all of their ghosts, it still makes her anxious when it’s on display.

But she doesn’t, doesn’t say any of those things, realizes she doesn’t even really want to.

Post IWTB Mulder is prone to slipping up with pet names after he and Scully tied the knot.

amorfati3215/Amorfati32’s (FFN) AU head canon - Mulder and Scully never separated...

Mulder and Scully marry two months later in a small service at the county courthouse. Scully’s mother gives the bride away while Skinner agrees to be Mulder’s best man. It’s a quiet affair, formal too but it’s exactly what they wanted.

AU-- Post IWTB Mulder and Scully vacay, wed, and stay together during the hard times.

@broadcastnews1987/audries/@kennedyandheidi/inkspl0tchess's (WBM 1/ 2/ 3) Unnamed

“you’re my wife,” he says, over and over. her fingers are tugging at the tie she’d made him wear to the courthouse. he hadn’t really minded. “you’re my wife, scully.”

Post IWTB-- Three moments are Mulder and Scully tied the knot.

@m0lderitsme's Just a post MSIV fluff piece.

A big wedding was most definitely not for either of them. Plus, they didn’t really have anyone to invited anymore. Sure, Scully could have asked her brother Bill and his wife and son, but she didn’t really want them there. They decided that they’d get married in a very, very quick ceremony with a Justice of the Peace.

Post Revival Mulder and Scully marry with Skinner as their witness.

@flukemen/@pinebluffvariants/pinebluffvariant's Barrows

On a Friday afternoon, Mulder and Scully get out of a cab just a few blocks from the basement where they used to eat hotdogs at midnight and argue over evidence, when they were young. The streets are cleaner than they used to be, back then. The air is too. At least it feels that way today.

Post Revival Mulder and Scully wait in line outside the courthouse... and watch Skinner skip right on through.

@kateyes224's (Ao3)

Unchained Melody

Scully wiggled her small toes on the hard-wood floor, glad to be barefoot. Her pale ecru dress shimmered in the darkened kitchen, her face half shadowed. She looked up at Mulder, and something in the way she was sitting, staring up at him, her cerulean eyes luminous in the dark, niggled at his brain like deja vu.

After the courthouse ceremony, Mulder remembers one moment when his parents looked really, truly happy with each other.

Honorable mentions:

amorfati3215/Amorfati32’s The Proposal (Parts 1/, 2/, 3/, 4/)

jeri’s (Gossamer) Vulpecula (Gossamer 1/ 2/) (post here)

@rationalcashew/RationalCashew's Dark is the Way; Light is the Place (Tumblr)

Vickie Moseley’s "My Dearest Son"

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

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