Epilogue: Full Circle
by Jori

Mulder and Scully celebrate the dawning of a new millennium and 'one year' together. NC-17

*****************

December 31, 1999

Alone. I just never thought I would die alone.

Yes, technically, I know I'm not alone. A couple other FBI agents occupy this basement. Too bad they are the walking dead and aren't offering too many tips on how to get out of here. And as far as conversational skills go, they obviously never attended any of those ever popular FBI communication seminars. Then again, neither did I.

I move back closer to the wall, the chill in this basement working past my skin and muscles and biting as far down as my bones. I am alone.

Die alone? Never thought it would happen.

But who am I kidding? None of us thinks we are going to die at all until death stands in our face with its crooked, bony finger pointing at us, telling us to follow or else. If I close my eyes, I can almost see death, standing there watching me with just as much interest as I watch him. I tell him he's not ready for me. No, I've got too much to do here yet. He can't have me.

Not that he gives a shit what I have to do yet. He usually doesn't. And I really wouldn't be dead anyway, so what is he doing here?

Something moans off in the corner and I back up more, my back literally up against a wall.

How in the hell am I supposed to save the world this time? Great. When it comes down to *really* having to save the world, to do or die, I can't do a damn thing but cower here, holding on to my arm. All they need is for me to be dead and they will have their four horsemen of the fucking apocalypse. Ride, Mulder, ride.

I just never thought the end of the world would come down to some dead FBI agents and a circle of salt. Aliens descending upon us like locust pouring from the heavens, yes. Dead agents, no. It almost seems anticlimactic.

I wonder what Scully would think about me being one of the four to bring about the end time? Considering the religious implications of the whole situation, it might amuse her. Right up until she gets swept up in the rapture.

At least she knows how I feel about her. How very much I love her. But I still feel like a son of a bitch for not spending Christmas -- our first anniversary -- together. How in the hell was I supposed to know we would only have a few more days left? I didn't have to go to my mother's this year. I could have done that any time. Therewas always next Christmas. I didn't learn anything from her anyway. Did I really think I would?

I just didn't expect it all to end so soon.

And why didn't I bring more salt with me? A big Morton salt container would be nice right about now.

When it rains it pours. No shit.

I have faced death before. Been right here with it, playing the same game we are now. Why is it different this time? It is always the same answer. There is just so much more to lose now. Or so much more to live for.

Something creaks and I pull back even further. Maybe they are beginning to rally. It is time to collect number four.

"Agent Mulder? Can you hear me? Agent Mulder?" a deep, husky voice asks. He doesn't sound afraid of what he's about to face. But I do. I've seen it.

"Yeah... I'm down here. They're all around," I say, trying to pinpoint where they might be.

Frank lights a flare and throws it to the ground. It is more light than I've seen in hours. And now I can finally see how small the circle of salt separating me from them actually is. Another flare comes flying down.

"You armed?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah."

"Shoot for the head. That seems to stop them. There's three more of them," I tell him, still unable to see them even with the additional light.

"Where?" he asks. He hasn't descended into this hell yet.

"I don't know. They're hiding," I answer, my eyes struggling to find them before they find us.

Frank starts down the stairs. As soon as he reaches the bottom, one of the undead agents rushes him, ready for the tackle. I recoil as the sound of three bullets fills the basement, but they do their job. Another one is dead. Really dead this time.

"Mulder, can you get up?"

"Yeah, I think so," I say, struggling to my feet. Another one comes out of nowhere and after us. If they kill us both, they will still have four. "Look out!"

It pushes Frank to the basement floor, his attack quick and forceful. I somehow manage to get the gun and shoot straight. Two shots, but still he is dead. Yeah. Really dead.

I offer my hand to Frank to help him up when something else comes through the wall. Number four.

The clip is empty. The fucking clip is empty. Dammit! It lurches toward us, its gait unsteady.

Well, at least I won't be dying alone. But in all my years, I never imagined I'd die with the person I only knew by legend until yesterday. I somehow always thought it would be with Scully by my side.

The sudden clang of gunfire crackles through basement. A reprieve by some unseen angel from above, killing the end time prophecies before they can take hold?

I look up and see Scully standing on the stairs, her weapon still in hand. An angel, but not unseen.

I knew she wouldn't leave me alone down here.

********************

December 31, 1999

"You okay?" Scully asks, touching my bad arm. She pulls her hand away when I cringe. It hurts like hell. Instead, she tugs gently on my tie, holding the very end of it between her fingers. She doesn't move her hand.

I am still wound up yet exhausted at the same time. The police have come from everywhere, filling the road out in front of this house. We are illuminated by their flashing lights and standing behind my rental car only offers a meager bit of privacy.

"Now I am," I answer, touching her face and running my fingers across her cheek. She smiles a soft but fleeting smile and looks at me. Her eyes hold mine, filled with affection and love.

"That was close," she says, her voice not hiding any of her emotions. To hell with hiding them now. She's right.

"Too close, Scully. But the world is still going to be here at the stroke of midnight. I'm pretty sure of that one," I say, trying to calculate how much time we have left in my head. It is getting close to the dawn of a new millennium and we are still faced with the same crap.

"Unless there are more of them out there," she says nervously. "More nuts who want it to end."

"Scully? Is that you talking?" I say and she just licks the corner of her mouth.

Skinner is here and he comes toward us, clearing his throat as he approaches. I move my hand away from her face and she lets go of my tie, both of us trying to look professional. He knows, but there is no reason to flaunt it in front of him.

"Well done, agents," he says, his eyes focusing on Scully instead of me, looking at the wounds on her neck. He looks relieved that she is alive.

"Thank you, sir," Scully says, as she leans back against the car. I take a step back from her, maintaining what looks like a 'partner' distance between us. Sometimes when he faces us alone, Skinner still acts nervous. As if what he knows might jeopardize everything. And maybe someday it will.

"I just wanted to wish you both a Happy New Year," he says, his voice low. "It has been one hell of a year . . . almost one hell of a decade, actually, for you both. The two of you should get out of here while you still can . . . before the boondock patrol starts asking for reports filled in triplicate. I'll tell them you will fax yours in . . . sometime after the 10th."

"Agent Mulder needs to go to the hospital . . . " Scully says, her questioning eyes meeting mine. Did our boss just tell us to go get lost together and not come back for a whole week?

"Take him, Agent Scully. Then get the hell out of here. Go celebrate the millennium like two . . ." he says, ending before he says something embarrassing. "Go celebrate the millennium the right way."

"Thank you," I say, trying not to smile but to maintain what little professional decorum I still have. "And Happy New Year, too, sir."

*****************

Seconds into January 1, 2000

"The world didn't end," I say, as I pull away from our short kiss. She was still worried. Maybe she still is. How many more time zones are there yet?

"No, it didn't," she responds. She looks thoughtful, as if everything that has ever happened to us is reflected in her eyes for just this moment. It could have ended, but it didn't. We stopped it once again. We deserve some kind of damn medal for saving the world again and again. If only someone knew.

"Happy New Year, Scully," I say to her, wishing I could tell her to forget it all. If only for tonight, just forget everything. I want to wrap her up in my arms and make it all go away. But it never will totally be gone from our lives.

"Happy New Year, Mulder," she replies, and I take her under my one good arm and lead her out of the hospital and to the car.

She pulls the keys out of her pocket and opens the passenger side door, letting me in first.

"Will you be okay driving? It is late . . . we could get a place to stay the night . . ." I suggest, giving her a wink. She merely shakes her head at me and slams my door.

Scully walks around the front of the car and gets behind the wheel. She inserts the key in the ignition but doesn't start it up right away. She just sits and stares out the windshield.

"Mulder, how far away from turning into a Frank Black are you?" she asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning to look at her. She doesn't look back. Sure, I've spent my fair share of time in a variety of mental health facilities, but I have yet to check myself in.

"When will all be too much? At what point will the losses outweigh the gains?" she asks, her hands gripping the wheel tightly.

"Are you suggesting I give it all up?" I ask, my heart beating faster in my chest. How could I? After everything that has happened, right down to this evening, how could I give it all up?

"No, Mulder. We can't give it up. But maybe we should try to have a little more fun doing what we do. Last year was hell. What we do *is* hell. Maybe we ought to find the humor in it somewhere. Even if it isn't really there. Even if it is just something we see. No, what we do isn't funny at all. But we can enjoy each other more. I think that is the only way we are going to maintain our sanity and not turn into a couple of Frank Blacks," she says, finally turning to look at me.

"I always try to instill a little frivolity into everything we do, Scully. It's just when you are facing man eating plants and losing your mind forever, it does get hard to be humorous," I respond, putting my hand over one of hers. She still holds on to the steering wheel.

"We have until next week to be frivolous, Mulder. Where would you like to go and be frivolous?" she asks, dropping her hand down to the center console. I wrap my fingers into hers and hold on.

"What do you mean . . . where?" I ask, cocking my head in curiosity.

"We could just go back to DC, or we could start the year 2000 out somewhere else. Some place where no one knows us," she says, serious about this.

"It is going to be kind of hard to fly out of here, Scully. Flight operations have been reduced . . ."

"I'm sure we can find something," she says, a slight smile moving across her face. "Damn it, Mulder. We just saved the world. Now it is time to go see exactly what it is we saved."

******************
January 7, 2000
An Island at Mile Marker 22.5 off of Summerland Key, Florida

Scully turns to me, her hair bathed in the glow of the sunset behind her, and I almost gasp at how beautiful she is.

"Every single day I spend with you, I'm glad it didn't all end," she says, her smile glowing as brightly as the sun.

"So am I," I say. She leans back against the verandah railing, and the breeze catches the sheer cover-up wrap she is wearing. It flutters up and around her, but she doesn't care. The fact that she is wearing nothing underneath doesn't even bother her. And it certainly doesn't bother me.

Of course, it helps that we are on our own island, somewhere off the Florida Keys. How in the hell she arranged this, I will never know. Something about no one wanting to travel because of the whole Y2K thing. But I will not question this gift.

Her skin is still pale in that redhead sort of way even though we spent the week out in the sun. She slathered sunscreen on both of us constantly, talking about melanoma the whole time. Despite it, I tanned. And tanned everywhere.

Well, except for my arm that I kept in a sling until today.

She turns to watch the sun creep ever closer to the horizon and my heart aches in my chest simply from wanting her. Not that it would be the first time today. There's a lot to be said for life on a private island. Not having to wear clothes is certainly conducive to a wide range of activities. How hedonistic we have become in just a few short days. She stands outside our bedroom, facing the world with no top on, just a piece of sheer fabric wrapped around her waist. And I have on nothing at all.

I stand behind her, my body pressing against hers. My fingers trace the edge of her cover-up until I come to the knot holding it up.

"I want to make love to you under the setting sun. The first time we made love under the sunset in the new millennium . . ." I start to say, as the knot slips and the material falls.

"The millennium doesn't start . . ."

"Shh . . ." I say, turning her around in my arms and kissing her. She seems to melt in my arms, her body losing any tension that might have ever been there. Unlike our 'official' New Year kiss, this one goes on for what seems like forever. Her mouth opens under mine and our tongues touch somewhere in the middle.

Tasting.

Exploring.

Living.

This what it all comes down to. Loving and living.

Her hands go up and around my neck, pulling me closer even though that is hardly possible. I feel myself harden against her soft body, and I want her. I want to get lost in her, to sink into her as the sun sinks into the Gulf. I don't want to ever return.

She smells of coconuts from the lotion. Her skin also holds the scent of the Gulf and of the Ocean, so salty yet so clean. Her kisses taste of the rum runners we shared earlier, intoxicating still.

We turn around, never breaking our kiss and somehow manage to walk to the lounge chair. The kiss ends as I sink backwards into the chair, the cushion and chair creaking as my body makes contact with it. Scully is above me and the sun is behind her, glowing large in the sky. A perfect sunset lighting up the whole horizon.

She straddles me, but doesn't allow me to slip into her body just yet. Instead, she leans forward, her breasts skimming across my chest, her mouth edging toward mine. I feel her hands replace her breasts on my chest as she strokes my nipples, teasing me. At the same time, she presses her wet sex down on my cock, stroking me without letting me in.

"You are a tease," I say, my body aching for her.

"You said you wanted to wait for the sunset," she says, her voice raspy with desire.

"I don't want to wait that badly," I say, looking at what now seems like a huge gap between the sun and the water.

"Are you sure?" she asks in between the light kisses she is scattering across my neck.

"Yes," I say, repositioning her in a way that I just slide right in. Her eyes go shut as she settles lower and a soft gasp escapes her throat as I move my fingers to the apex of her sex.

I circle and circle with my fingers, but neither of us moves in any other way. Then I can't stand it any longer. I want to thrust up into her. She must sense this because her thrusts meet mine in equal time.

In rhythm to the gentle waves hitting the shore below, we move against each other, no need to rush just yet. We have time. All the time in the world. It isn't going to end just yet. Not if I can help it.

She sits up straight, arching her back, her chest and neck flushed with arousal. Her eyes hold mine, pupils dilated to the size of saucers, arousing me even more. Suddenly, the rhythm of the waves isn't fast enough. She pushes my hand away, replacing it with her own, allowing me to grasp her hips and help her move. Faster. And then even faster.

We are going to beat the sun. There's no stopping it now. I thrust into her once more, and reach my release. Her muscles tighten around me, draining me of everything I am. I shudder under the sensations, enjoying every last second of it.

I open my eyes to find her smiling, the sky still glowing behind her, but transformed into a more pastel canvas now.

"Finish," I say, our eyes locked on to one another. "Finish it. I want to see you come."

Her fingers move faster, her face lost in concentration. I don't move. Just watch her. It doesn't take long until she gets herself off, her orgasm causing her to fall forward on me. Her body quakes around my softening cock and she sighs in spent satisfaction.

Sitting up again, she turns her head to look at the sun. A few more minutes and it will be gone.

But I know it is going to rise again tomorrow. And I know Scully will be by my side when it does.

*****************

The End