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It wasn't fair. After everything they'd overcome together, all the times the world tried to tear them apart. When she was taken from him. When cancer almost took her from this world. When he was taken from her. When he was forced into hiding. Fate's cruel joke is breaking them apart just when they're free to be together. The distance between them had never been greater than it was now, as they stood in the same room.
Scully knew this was inevitable. She’d been working up the courage to actually do it for months.
"I have to leave."
It was a statement, not an invitation for a rebuttal. But when had that stopped Mulder before? Back when they were so in sync, yet holding such contradictory ideas, he'd never let her go without a word. She supposed he was just too tired now.
Memories of how the way they used to be felt like they belonged to a different person living in another lifetime. Scully wished she could recapture the feelings they used to share. From their first meeting, the tension, affection, and passion. When had it dissolved? Slipped through their fingers like sand in an hourglass.
Scully never imagined she'd be in her fifties and reminiscing about the 'good old days' of chasing monsters. But those were the times she could look back on with a smile. The memories of what should've been her happiest days, those precious months with her son, were tainted by the pain of having to do what was best for him. She should've known better. There was no way for her and Mulder to have a normal life.
For years, Scully told herself she accepted it. She’d recite an internal mantra of how it was romantic to be on the run with the man she loved as the days passed with little to look forward to but long stretches of highway. But it was okay as long as she and Mulder were together she told herself. It's what she told Mulder when he'd get overcome with an episode of guilt.
"You could've married some Catholic doctor and had a minivan." He'd cry into her shoulder.
Scully would wipe his tears and hold his face in her palms, repeatedly reassuring him, "I wouldn't be happy. I'd be living without knowing what real love is like. I'd rather be with you than anyone, no matter what the circumstances are."
Then, she'd lay awake at night trying to dispel the ache she felt for a domesticality. She couldn't admit it to Mulder. He would blame himself and she'd feel even worse. Shamefully, Scully had to admit it to herself.
Feelings don't go away just because you want them too. Suffering in silence had caused Scully to resent Mulder to a degree. She felt it happening inside her heart and hated it, but was powerless to stop it. He must have known.
That's what the move to Virginia was supposed to fix. Mulder risked his freedom to give Scully the best sense of stability they could hope for. A real home with a bed that was only theirs. A job as a physician in a prestigious hospital instead of waitressing in small town diners across the midwest. It should've been enough.
Mulder’s freedom seemed like it was their light at the end of the tunnel. Somewhere along the way, they'd both deluded themselves into believing it was Mulder's status as a fugitive that held them hostage to the pains of their past. The truth hit them after the honeymoon.
Their days as platonic partners looked more intimate than their marriage. All those daydreams and night time fantasies of what they would do if they ever got to be together were in vain as they are better described as roommates than husband and wife.
So Scully clung tight to her duffle bag and walked towards the door. Determinedly looking forward, knowing she would lose her nerve if she looked back.
Just as her hand reached the doorknob, Mulder spoke.
“I understand.”
Hot tears blurred her vision. She turned to look at him. Anyone else would think he was stoic, but Scully could see the devastation behind his eyes.
“I wish it could be different.” She croaked.
“So do I.”
All the love lost pulsed in the empty space in between them, ghosts of their former glory. Scully’s hand slipped from the doorknob. Mulder met her just as the floodgates of her tears burst. They wrapped their arms around each other.
His chest was a familiar comfort. He kissed the top of her red head.
“Goodbye, Scully.” He whispered.
Holding back a sob, Scully looked up at him, silently asking if this is really how it ends. She didn’t want him to let her go, but she didn’t want him to ask her to stay.
“Mulder…”
And then he was kissing her.
Suddenly, they weren’t standing in the hallway of their unremarkable house anymore. They were in the hallway of his Alexandria apartment, tension ripe as they put words to the connection they shared.
They were in the backseat of the used van they bought with cash from some guy in Indiana. A mix of fear and relief washing over them as they marked another mile away from D.C. and closer to their future together. Whispers of promises of the love they’d keep safe.
They were sitting in a diner in Nevada, laughing, holding hands. Feeling unbridled joy as they shared french fries.
They were in the bed upstairs, waking up beside each other on a sunny morning. Exchanging smiles and sweet kisses without caring about their bad breath.
They were soulmates, best friends, partners, constants, touchstones. And they were standing right here after all these years about to let the darkness eclipse it all.
Their lips broke apart. When their eyes met it was obvious they both felt the cosmic shift. Scully felt Mulder’s panting breath hot against her cheek. He moved his hand to the small of her back, stopping the trembling of her body she hadn’t even realized was happening.
“Dana,” He hummed.
She pushed her body closer against his. Her hands scratched at the back of his neck. His lips descended on her once again. Their tongues danced, caressing each other like it could defeat the anguish.
Mulder lifted her off the ground and Scully instinctively wrapped her legs around him. Her hands rifled through his hair as he walked them to the nearest flat surface, the kitchen table.
He laid her down on the cold hardwood. Her body still clung to his, desperate not to be separated. But he overpowered her squirming to make just enough room between them to pull off her clothes. His lips, but not his words, apologized to each inch of her body for the interruption.
Scully could cry from how badly she missed this. The way he ravages her methodically.
“Fuck, I love you.” Mulder gasped.
Scully wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear that. But the declaration makes her think for the first time in a long time that love may be enough to get them through.
Her thighs tightened around his waist. The table rocked as he gave a few involuntary thrusts.
“Mulder, I- I want you.”
He slipped down to his knees and threw her knees over his shoulders. The first long lick of his flat tongue against her folds made her entire body shake. The things this man could do to her.
His loving kisses and slow licks made Scully’s eyes roll back. Just when her conscious mind was lulled away into bliss, she felt a jolt of electricity. Mulder had pushed his index finger into her.
They both moaned. Scully looked down and saw his eyes peering at her, eyes on fire with arousal.
“I love the way you touch me.” She whispered.
He slipped another finger inside her and curled them. Scully’s back arched and she cried out.
“You’re so wet, so soft. Perfect, Scully.”
He stared at her pussy, transfixed, as he pumped in and out. He was almost knuckle deep in her wetness. His thumbs gravitated to her clit and found a circular rhythm.
The sensations built Scully’s gasps into a crescendo. Unbearable pleasure took hold of her. Her hands gasped the edges of the table, knuckles white. Mulder didn’t let up until her walls relaxed around his fingers. His warm tongue returned, lapping at the arousal dripping out of her.
When he stood, Scully watched with wrapped attention as he wiped the glistening evidence of how she loved him off his chin. Then, she shot up, grabbing at his belt with one hand and his shirt with the other.
“I want you.” Scully repeated. “I never stop wanting you.”
Mulder gently pushed her back onto the table. His clothes discarded, he stepped closer and grabbed her by her hips to position her.
He teased the head of his cock up and down over her soaked slit. Anticipation roared in Scully like an animal. One slow, steady movement and he’s inside her.
She wriggled on the table at the sting. Her body had forgotten how big he is in these times of strife. But soon enough, she accommodates him and the fullness feels like home. His contorted face told her how desperately he was trying to hold back till she was ready. She encouraged him with a few thrusts of her hips.
At first, Mulder was focused, fucking her steadily, his hands on her hips. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow. Scully felt his cock pulsating within her. His thrusts became spastic and his mouth fell open.
“God Mulder, please.” Scully urged him on.
He collapsed over top of her, still thrusting wildly. She pulled him impossibly tighter to her with her legs folding over his ass. He’s so deep inside her and she’s so close. Her heart throbbed as he hit just the right spot over, and over, and over.
Whimpers escaped her. Mulder answered with moans of his own. Their bodies are so in sync, prepared to take each other over the edge.
When his finger swirled her clit, Scully was a goner. Her body spasmed. Eyes closed tight, thighs clutching her lover even tighter, she came. It felt like salvation after a thousand years of purgatory.
“Muuulllderrrrr” She cried out.
Her body was now limp. Her hands found his hair again. She pet him, coaxing him through his last thrust before he came inside her.
Scully reveled the feel of Mulder’s hot liquid pooling inside her core. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before stilling.
His weight pressed her into the tabletop. It was a comforting pressure that made up for the feeling of loss when he pulled out. His open mouthed breathing was hot against her neck. She ran her fingers down his sweaty back, tracing his spine and the shape of his shoulder blades.
After a few moments, Scully turned her head to look at him properly. An unexplainable resolution settled over them. It was like they were looking right at each other after being obstructed by a veil for so long.
Mulder beamed. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Scully giggled in return.
He moved a hand to hold her head, his palm her pillow. He stroked her flushed cheek with his thumb. The elated expression turned to sorrow. She knew what he was thinking, so she turned her head to kiss his hand.
“I’m not going anywhere,” She promised. “I love you, Mulder.”