#divergence series

msr | AU | words: 910

Every year, he’d send a thank you card to Skinner. Mulder had yet to skip a year, despite the fact that snail mail is almost dead, he made a point to do that every March.

A lot of things had led to it, but what Skinner had done was the last straw that broke the camel’s back.

He and Scully had promised each other that they were going to keep fighting after coming back from Antarctica. If I quit now, she said, they win. They were going to fight the future together.

Working under Kersh was humiliating, but he bit the bullet and stuck it out for her. Mulder enjoyed making googly eyes at Scully in the bullpen, where everyone knew they were always in their little world. They and their private jokes, they and their long lunches, they and their side trips.

He hated being in the bullpen only because he was supposed to hate it.

Running himself into trouble at the Bermuda Triangle pushed him a little, too. He realized life was too short to keep waiting. He told Scully that he loved her. Their trip to Nevada moved him another foot further. He found out Scully wanted to stop the car and get out—with him; it was comforting to know he wouldn’t leave the FBI empty-handed.

He would leave with the whole world in his arms.

The haunted house with the lover’s pact strengthened his resolve. One day he was gonna take Scully away. Maybe they were gonna live eternally in some haunted place, and Mulder was sure it ain’t gonna be their basement office.

Scully got shot in the stomach and he joked that they had to find a profession where they could do what they do for hundreds of years, forgetting that he wasn’t immortal.

But Mulder had no idea being undercover as a married couple with Scully would finally push him over the edge.

He wanted the real thing now. Of course, he didn’t want the yippie neighbors and the killer garbage-man. He wanted a place where they could keep big, silly Labrador Retrievers, hot tub in the backyard, basketball hoop in front of the garage. Halloween decorations and loud Christmas lights.

He wanted to play house for the rest of his life with Dana Scully. He wanted what her parents have. He wanted a nice house with white picket fence, a minivan and a pretty house. He wanted to give Scully what she wants.

Except that wasn’t what she wanted at all.

It was a good thing Mulder had talked to her about it before rushing into anything like making a down payment on a house. Contrary to his belief, convincing Scully that he loved her and wanted to be with her was the easy part. Talking to her about leaving the FBI was the hard part.

She needn’t convincing about loving him. That fact had left Mulder grinning like a fool for months afterwards. Moving into a nice little Crackerbox with a brand-new Minivan in the driveway? She thought he was insane.

“Honey,” she said to him with voice sweeter than honey, “I don’t want the average life. Not with you. Never with you.”

Mulder told himself not to feel hurt. Was it because he wasn’t a doctor? Was it because they couldn’t have 2.5 children? Was it because she wanted smaller dogs? A Papillon? Another Pomeranian? Poodles that looks freakishly like teddy bears? God, he’d never imagined himself as the owner of lapdogs, but for Scully, he was willing to become a cat dad.

It surprised him that she didn’t wanted to be a doctor at all. She felt trapped with her career prospects.

“What would you do if money was no issue?” He encouraged her to dream. “You know, what did you want to do when you were like, seven?”

Scully gave him the elusive smile, completed with pink cheeks: “I’ve always loved baking.”

“Baking it is, then.”

Mulder gained 12 pounds from sampling the pies. Scully promised that she would love him even if he were to gain another 20.

She felt in love with Martha’s Vineyard on their first visit, so he rented a little storefront in Tisbury. Starbuck’s Bakery was opened before the summer was over. She made pies and brownies, cupcakes and cookies—everything she’d learned from her mother; he handled the customers and spread on the hospitality—something he’s learned from her mother.

On Scully’s 40th birthday, they purchased a bed and breakfast. Sam’s Home was pet-friendly and smoke-free, cozy and chic; famous for its sweets and the friendly hostess.

Sometimes Mulder felt like he was playing house; running a B&B and the bakery waslike playing house to him. He cooked and cleaned for the two of them and their three dogs. He listened to their visitors with fascination and wrote daily. They meditate, they hiked, they walked barefoot on the beach. At Martha’s Vineyard, Mulder felt like he’s a kid again, like he got his childhood back again. He told her made-up stories about the constellations and the forest, about the princess who gave up her kingdom for love, and the prince who loved the princess so much that he fought his demon and won.

Years went by and Mulder never looked back. Scully now had grays in her hairs and laugh lines on her face. He knew she was happy; so was he. He sometimes wondered if there was another universe, where they did stay and kept going. He hoped to the stars that those other two were just as happy.

Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you!

Divergence series:  Mayberry  |  Lanyu |The Metrodome|Hokkaido|the Apartment|New Mexico | Martha’s Vineyard|

msr | AU | words: 950

She had turned 37 that year, and Mulder would be 40 by October.

Scully recalled a high school friend named Christian; he was the first person that told her all the great ones die at 27. Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, Pigpen McKernan…

She didn’t know why she was thinking about that tonight. She had just given birth, had just witness the beginning of a life, merely months after having Mulder coming back from the death, and there she was, thinking about death.

Scully didn’t believe she would be immortal, but if she were, she was never going to be apart from her two boys.

William. She had named their son William. After your father, she said, and Mulder grinned. She couldn’t make him call his own son Fox. It’d be a mockery of some sort, she was sure.

Scully couldn’t believe she and Mulder had made something so beautiful and precious. Her pregnancy had been hell, and the birth was another nightmare she had yet to process. But now she had both her babies in the same room, both sleeping peacefully, though she knew the little one would need to be fed in 2 hours, and the big one would fuss over them nonstop. All three of them needed to sleep, but here she was, thinking about all the great ones die at 27.

What a load of mumbo jumbo.

Scully closed her eyes and snuggled into Mulder, her forehead pressing against where his hearts lied underneath. She knew she was just scared, because in two days, they’d be going away, going into hiding—with their infant son.

There was no other way around it. If she and Mulder had ever agreed on anything, this was it. Neither of them could fathom a life without the other. It wouldn’t be life.

The journey took nearly 30 hours of driving, spanning across four days. Ohio, Illinois, Oklahoma, New Mexico. “Do babies get carsick?” Mulder asked.

“Ours doesn’t,” she answered, and he grinned like a proud papa.

The Hosteens received them warmly and all the women swooned over the baby. Scully was once again amazed at how well they were cared for and looked after. She wondered how she could ever repay them. She wasn’t sure why they thought this would be a good place to raise a family, but this was the first place that popped up in both their heads.

William grew up with Baby Fox as a nickname; he grew up with the Navajo children and had no idea he was any different. Scully couldn’t tell, either.

No one ever came to look for them. The Gunmen visited during the first winter. Her family came for the second summer. Bill hated Mulder, but what else was new?

Maybe that was what it was. If they could stay away from the darkness, the darkness would stay away from them.

Being stay-home Mom and Dad was fun for the first two years; there were a lot of things to do around the house. Like his daddy, William got into trouble all the time, keeping Scully’s hands full—especially after their second miracle came along.

“Must be the mysterious healing of the ancient worlds, Baby,” Mulder said while planting kisses on her stomach.  

He followed her like a puppy for 34 weeks, which nearly drove her insane. At two years old, William seemed more independent than his daddy at times, and all the Navajo ladies made fun of that, too, but her husband never gave a damn.

Mulder started working with some people that took them in just because Albert had put in a good word for them over a decade ago. He began to help documenting the stories that were told to the children. Every once in a while, Scully would wonder if this was what life was really about, if this was what she wanted. A stay-home mom with two children under three plus Mulder, which was like having another child. But their life as FBI agents had been more than exciting—she had been to Antarctica and Africa, she had been kidnapped and aged, she had seen things that were stranger than fiction, and she once again thought about what Christian had told her when they were both 17. All the great ones…

Normal was nice. Normal was good. Normal was not having a doubt about seeing your son entering first grade, watching your daughter acting as a tree in a school play. Normal was packing picnic lunches and riding bicycle with your husband. Normal was watching Mulder build rockets with their babies in the backyard. Normal was braiding Katherine’s hair. Normal was seeing Mulder cried as he held their youngest in his arms.

Normal was fine. Normal was great. All the normal ones live for a long time. She wouldn’t mine living forever if she could take Mulder with her.

He snuggled up with her in bed one night, “Let me be the woman next life,” he said like a praying, “let me give you all the babies you want without any pain.”

“Maybe that’s the reason why I got to be the woman; I probably told you the exact same thing in our previous life— if there really are lives before and after.”

Mulder smiled as if he’d won; he did that a lot nowadays.

Years went by and Scully never looked back. Mulder now had grays in his hairs and laugh lines on his face. She knew he was happy; so was she. She sometimes wondered if there was another universe, where they did stay and kept going. She hoped to the stars that those other two were just as happy.

Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you.

Divergence series:  Mayberry  |  Lanyu |The Metrodome|Hokkaido|the Apartment | New Mexico | 

msr | AU | words: 1,000

She pressed him on the wall of his hallway and kissed him silly, senselessly.

And all Mulder could think was, oh my God this is finally happening.

Afterwards, Scully teased him about chanting oh my God over and over again, and he found himself hiding his face in her hair, never wanting to let her go. Never, never ever.

This was when Mulder finally realized an ultimate truth. They can burn his office. They can take away his career. They can destroy and deny everything. But take Dana Scully away from him, and nothing else fucking mattered.

He made up his mind. He wanted to wake up next to Dana Scully for the rest of his life. No one was going to take her from him, no one. If they thought he was stubborn before, they have no idea what’s coming their way.

“Guess we’re moving to Salt Lake City.” He whispered in her ear and she frowned. He noticed the frown and panicked immediately.  

So, he had read it wrong. Scully thought this was goodbye. She thought this was her sendoff; he thought this was a start, a celebration.

“Mulder,” She brought a hand to rub his cheek. “Wipe that panic off your face.”

He opened his mouth, trying to say something witty, something funny, something to hide his feelings, to shelter his humiliations with humor, but his brain had simply stopped responding.

“Mulder?” Scully caressed his forehead with the inside of her palm. Her index finger traveled down his nose and glided down to his lips. He kissed her fingertip, still wordless. “I don’t really want to move to Salt Lake City.”

Her confession confused him. She said she was going to pack when she walked out of his apartment. That was why he grabbed her and refused to let go. She bowed her head, looking helpless and pained. He couldn’t help but tightened his embrace on her and smoothed down her hair, and accidentally squished a little hitchhiker that was hiding in her collar. But Mulder wasn’t going to let the death of a bee stop him from spilling his guts out: “But you saved me. As difficult andfrustrating as it’s been sometimes, your God-damned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over…”

He liked to think her kisses were awards for his honesty. Mulder practically lost his mind kissing her, loving her, cherishing her, and treasuring her.

“Salt Lake City, Atlantic City, Panama City, Carson City, I don’t care where you want to go, Scully, I… I need you.”

It was her turn to be speechless, but his mind was now functioning high and was fueled by his courage. “All that I said in the hallway, about owing you everything, about you making me a whole person…I don’t think saying I love you is enough…”

Scully continued to be wordless, yet he went on, “Stay with me. Let me go with you. Be with me. L-love me. Let me love you…”

“Are you really ready to… leave the FBI?” Her voice was small, as if she couldn’t believe herself for asking the question.

He chuckled. “No, but I’m ready to be with you. Anything you want to do. Will you accept that? Let me be with you,” he paused, licking his lips nervously, “till death do us part?”

“Mulder…” She pushed herself off his chest and Mulder wondered if he had said something wrong. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes.” He pulled her back and held her like a boy with his favorite plush rabbit. “Say yes, Scully. Say Yes you can follow me to the end of the world, ‘cause you know I will.”

“Yes.” Scully said before kissing him.

They resigned the next day. A week later, they began their honeymoon around the world, a present from the Gunmen andSkinner. They saw London and France, dipped their toes in the Pacific and the Atlantic, ate foods with chopsticks and their hands. It was over a plate of curry when Scully mentioned to him the idea she had been mulling over ever since she’d heard it on a radio program.

“We should start a library.”

“A what?” Mulder looked at his wife with amusement.

“A library. It’s the best place to document and store what we know.” Scully said with glimmer in her eyes. Mulder knew they could leave the X-Files, but no one could take the X-Files out of them.

“What’s gonna be in this library, Scully? Myth and Legends? Folklores?”

“Sure. Traditional and non-traditional ones. Stories and books from the East and the West. A section for debunked ones. A shelve designated for all the issues of The Magic Bullet. Things you believe. We can build a database on the occult.”

“Scullee!” He exclaimed, “if you weren’t already married to me… You’re making me want to marry you all over again.”

She pretended to roll her eyes but her smile was brilliant.

They began building the Library of X. The Gunmen promoted it shamelessly, and the public’s knowledge of it protected them from Big Brothers. Donations and memberships poured in because the public wanted to know. They visited places to collect strange phenomenons, monkey babies and Elvis lives and lovers pact in haunted mansions. They kept a website that had an unimaginable amount of readership; it documented their travels with videos, pictures, and musings, and Mulder joked about being real-life Ghostbusters, which his wife disagreed with a we just keep a record of what we see, an unbiased view from a believer and a skeptic.  But their library was the real deal, a place even researchers and government agencies went to for credible resources.

Years went by and Mulder never looked back. Scully now had grays in her hairs and laugh lines on her face. He knew she was happy; so was he. He sometimes wondered if there was another universe, where they did stay and kept going. He hoped to the stars that those other two were just as happy.

 Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you.

Divergence series:  Mayberry  |  Lanyu |The Metrodome|Hokkaido | the Apartment | New Mexico |  

msr | AU | words: 1,050

He made the decision outside of her hospital room. Then, he sobbed.

It was a happy occasion, the happiest, if he was willing to admit. Everyone inside the hospital room was joyous, Skinner, Mrs. Scully, even Bill Jr. seemed jolly.

Bill had expressed his gratitude to him before heading in to see Scully. Mulder was surprised how friendly Bill’s eyes looked once he found out the chip had worked and his baby sister’s cancer was indeed, in remission.

Mrs. Scully swayed Mulder in her arms for a good three minutes. When she finally let go, he had left tear stain on the shoulder of her shirt. Mulder was quite embarrassed about that, but Mrs. Scully just said, don’t worry, Fox, don’t you worry a thing about it.

It was such a joyous celebration inside the room, but out in the hall, Mulder bowed his head and begged for forgiveness; he hoped and prayed that his apology would reach the little eight-year-old in the blood-stained photograph.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“It’s Déjà vu,” Scully said. She looked a thousand times better than she did three days ago. True, she was still skinny and got dizzy spills at least once a day, but her lips were redder, and Mulder liked to think that had something to do with his kisses.

“Yeah, it kinda is, isn’t it?” Mulder replied bashfully.

“But I’ll say it again, Mulder. Why are you asking me if you’d already made up your mind?”

“Because I knew you’d talk me out of it if I was making a mistake.” He gave her the same heart-melting smile and picked up her hand tenderly to kiss. He wondered if he would forever be in her prayers now.

“And you’ve asked my mother?” She tried to smile, and failed.

“Yes.” Mulder nodded reverently, hoping it would convince her. “She said she loved Japan and really enjoyed being stationed there thirty years ago. She recommended us to at least visit Nagoya, despite I told her several times that we’d be mostly traveling around Hokkaido for the hot springs. C’mon Scully, you like baths.”

She looked at him funny. Yes, she loved baths, but she wasn’t too keen on the idea of hot springs. Strangely, the only image her head had associated with hot spring was a crowd of redden-face snow monkeys dozing off in a steamy lake. The idea seemed a little too wild and… exposed to her.

“Have you ever…?” She couldn’t even bring herself to ask Mulder that question.

“…Been to a hot spring?”

Scully shook her head, her cheeks reddened.

“…um, been to a bathhouse with strangers?” He suddenly laughed once he realized what she was asking. “Scully, we’ll go to those ones with private, single baths. It’ll just be the two of us.”

Mulder rubbed the back of her hand mindlessly and Scully decided to let him. Why not?

“What happens after we… return?” She asked in a small voice, almost as if she was trying to convince herself that this wasn’t a good idea.

Mulder knew it was appealing. Heck, the wellness retreat sounded so wonderful, it almost felt whimsical. Nature, hot spring, whole foods, rest and reset. Scully needed it, and he needed Scully.

“I’m open to… possibilities.” He encouraged. “We don’t need to worry about money. I don’t want to lose you. Let’s just get out of this, this whole madness. I want us to be normal.”

“Oh, Mulder…” she sighed at his naïveness, “we’re never gonna be normal.”

But they were. They were a normal couple traveling light in their rented two-seater Honda. They stayed at secluded, old-timey hotels and visited temples and shrine. They hiked and picnicked. They frequented local grocery stores that were smaller than 7-11s back home, sampling the different kinds of cheese and bread. Hokkaido was famous for its dairy and potatoes, and they enjoyed honeydew melon soft serves in the outdoors with snow falling softly on their eyelashes. They ate dinners provided by the hotels, with Mulder showing off his newly mastered chopstick skills and earning the applause from all the grandmotherly innkeepers.

With a Leica camera around his neck. Mulder took photographs of his love as if rolls of film grew on trees. He learned how to say in Japanese, please develop these for me, two copies. He mailed the photographs home because he knew how much Maggie missed them.

They loved to stop by little roadside shops, and Scully would describe to him the kinds of dishes she could make with such beautiful veggies. Mulder snapped photos of vending machines because he thought Langly would never believe the items being sold: hot corn chowder in a can, 17 variety of cigarettes, toys in small plastic spheres, wasabi popsicles…

One innkeeper thought they were on a pilgrimage after learning Scully was recovering from a major illness. They learned to express their gratitude in shrines; Mulder perfected the hand-washing ritual, and made fun of Scully for messing it up. Whenever he presses his palms together to pray, he prayed for Scully’s health and happiness. Nothing else mattered.

When summer arrived, they signed a contract to be the innkeepers of the Harmony House. The contract was far from law-abiding, of course, but it promised them lodging for the off-season. Thanks to the the Gunmen’s Magic Bullet and Byers’ Kung Fu, they applied and obtained working visa as journalists. Scully finally had a kitchen to test out all the recipes she talked about, and Mulder’s photographs earned him acclaims as a contemporary artist.

“No one will believe you’re colorblind,” she teased and he stuck his tongue out at her.

Two years into their innkeeper’s lifestyle, Scully began to write haiku and poems, and quickly received a book deal. Together, they published several books of photography and poetry that became best-sellers. Their aim to keep a low profile made the public adore them even more, and they got fan mail in English and Japanese. Their life was far from normal, but it wasnormal.

Years went by and Mulder never looked back. Scully now had grays in her hairs and laugh lines on her face. He knew she was happy; so was he. He sometimes wondered if there was another universe, where they did stay and kept going. He hoped to the stars that those other two were just as happy.

Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you.

Divergence series:  Mayberry  |  Lanyu |The Metrodome | Hokkaido | the Apartment|New Mexico| 

msr | AU | words: 920

In a way, he’d always thought that something bigger was at play. The romantic in him would call it fate, Maggie called it God’s divine providence, Scully called it a coincidence, and the Boys… Well, the Boys all thought it was just another part of the conspiracy.

He and Scully held a baby girl between the two of them for the very first time on November 27, 1994, less than three weeks after Scully woke up from her coma, and exactly 21 years after Samantha disappeared.

Mulder chose to believe it was fate, like how Scully was returned to him, like how they were meant to be together. Fate.

When Frohike called to say that they needed to talk, Mulder thought the Gunmen had information on another E.B.E. or an incognito airbases. Frohike hid his emotions well from his voice; something he failed to do when they were standing face to face.

“We have proof,” Frohike stuttered, “that… that the b-baby belongs to Agent Scully.”

“Get out of here.” Mulder spat. Scully hadn’t been pregnant. This was pure science fiction.

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss the notion, Mulder.” Byers spoke in the tone as if he was the voice of reason. Langly was zoned out— he had already taken a Valium prior to Mulder’s arrival. The younger man was the one who stumbled upon the birth records and started digging. Langly had sold some D&D knickknacks that were prized incredibly highly in the virtual world to obtain the information on the baby, along with her birth records and other supporting documents from some guy named Kurt, which led them to the conclusion they were now presenting to Mulder.

If this really was Scully’s flesh and blood, Mulder thought, Langly should be her Godfather for his efforts.Maybe all three of them could be her Godfathers.

That was when Mulder realized there was no way he’s playing the Godfather role to Scully’s offspring. He wanted the father title.

“I think we gotta act fast,” Mulder finally spoke after a long silence. “What do you guys have in mind?”

With the new information in mind, Mulder quickly decided to drop the volcano case in Mount Avalon and took on the request for assistance from the Minneapolis FBI field office. He took Scully to the Vikings vs. Redskin game in the Metrodome like he planned. The view from the forty-yard line was spectacular, and so was she. Never minded the hot dog was lousy and the nachos was so nasty that Mulder complained to the family sitting next to them. Scully thought they were just hanging out; Mulder corrected her that they were on a date, and got a good night kiss when he walked her to her hotel room.

The Metrodome date was enough to convince Mulder that he was ready to marry Scully if the DNA of that baby girl truly matched Scully’s. Yet, holding a sobbing Scully in his arms after she was taken by some human-monster was what convinced Mulder that he wanted to marry Scully even if the baby’s DNA didn’t match.

Mulder was always sorry that he didn’t get to wine and dine his girl a little more, and Scully would always respond with but we had experienced so much more than any other couples, honey. Didn’t matter what she said, Mulder had already decided that he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to his wife.

His wife. The only time Fox Mulder had ever played by the rules was marrying Dana Scully. He handed in their resignation letters—typed with one hand on their three-hour plane back from Minneapolis, with a sleeping Scully clutching his arm as if it were a teddy bear. The rest went by too quickly; moving, a City Hall wedding, and an intimate, family-style dinner at Mrs. Scully’s favorite Italian restaurant, where he met his two brothers-laws; one kept giving him the hawk-eyes and the other one kept sending him heart-eyes, and Mulder realized that the number of his family members had suddenly quadrupled.

It was three days after Thanksgiving when they met their baby girl, a tiny little thing not even a month old. No one wanted to ask any question as all their minds seemed to be stuck on Langly’s exclaim of Holy Cow,I’ve seen burritos bigger than that!

Riley Christina. Mulder never knew he could love someone he’d never met before this much. For Scully, he went back to school so he could find a job on his terms, and for Riley, he became a child psychologist, which also helped him dealt with his very delicate and complicated issues regarding his childhood.

When Riley was five, Scully gave birth to Presley Samson, and two years later, Emily Valentina and Willy Jackson were born. When the twins turned three, they took a family vacation to Minneapolis; Mulder was the proudest papa bear as he took all his rug rats and the love of his life to the Metrodome for another Viking’s game. Life was splendid, even if the nachos were lousy and the soda was flat at the stadium like they were ten years ago.

Years went by and Mulder never looked back. Scully now had grays in her hairs and laugh lines on her face. He knew she was happy; so was he. He sometimes wondered if there was another universe, where they did stay and kept going. He hoped to the stars that those other two were just as happy.

Tagging@today-in-fic, thank you!

Divergence series:  Mayberry  |  Lanyu  | The Metrodome | Hokkaido|the Apartment|New Mexico|