October Air
by Christine Leigh

Summary: Post-series.  About three years or so down
the road.  AU.
Rating: G
Category: V
Keywords: MS
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: All characters are the products of
Chris Carter. They also belong to Ten-Thirteen
Productions and the Fox Network. No copyright
infringement intended.
Archiving: If you would like to archive anywhere, I'd 
appreciate a quick note first.
Email: Feedback is always welcome, leighchristine@hotmail.com


"It's beautiful.  I'd forgotten just how."  She
looked out at the ocean as she spoke, not turning
to see the face next to hers.  It had been too long
since she'd experienced this air.  His lips brushed
her cheek and she had a fleeting memory of
something else.  Still, she remained standing by
the opened window, her gaze fixed on the view.
Summer, she thinks she remembers had been the high
season here, but it has gone.  Now it's quieter,
and she is taking in the display of her beloved sea
framed by the red and gold hues of the season.  She
had arrived alone, but was no longer.

"The place is inhabitable, but it could use some
work."  He spoke to no one in particular, but since
there were only the two of them, he hoped she would
hear him.  Definitely, he thought, this room could
use some dusting.  Most of the furniture had been
covered, but the covers had accumulated a fine
layer of dust over the years, and the process of 
removing them had scattered it hither and thither.

He looked around the living room of the house that
had once been his home.  It's true what is said,
that the years go by faster than anyone can
possibly realize -- and that was in life.  Now, in
its aftermath, he wonders how long it has been.
One thing he believes for certain is that life was
an oddity, and something to ponder only when there
is nothing better. And at the present, he has
better.  She is so lovely, standing and looking out
the window.  Her hair is worn simply, tucked behind
her ears and touching her shoulders.  She'd worn it
that way when they first met, if he recalled, and
to see it was to be reminded that there had been
good times.

"I think work won't be a problem.  I think it will
be fully appreciated that whatever effort is
required, that it will be worth it."  She would
like to go back and live a different life than the
one that had played out here, but if that were
impossible, then at least there is this.  If not
another chance, then a chance for others.  She
thought about his kiss.  How long ago was that?
Time is such a trickster.  He'd always been a
handsome man, but she'd not seen him that way in
such a long while, and it is somewhat overwhelming,
even in this space where time and existence had no
definition.  Had it really been this way between
them once before?

"I do believe you see a happy home."  His words
were plain, and free of the desolation that had
pervaded his language during so much of his life.

"Yes.  I see no reason why it can't be that way.  I
remember that it was, once."

"I'm sorry it couldn't last."  More plainspoken
words.  There had been so few of those before.  He
isn't sure he tried.  Too much had been asked of
them.  He knows that now.  She'd always known.

"You do remember it, then?"

"I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"I didn't always want to remember, even the good
times.  Now, I don't want to ever forget them.  Did
you hear the laughter this morning?"

"I did.  That took me back.  And this is just one
child.  He's a live little wire."

"I'm so pleased that he was named for you."

"I think her father's name was the same?"

"Yes, but I heard what she said to him about the
name."

"Well, she didn't dare name the child Fox, that I
know."

"No, once was enough."  They both smiled at that,
and then at a third voice who didn't hesitate to
weigh in with an opinion.

"I like Fox.  I'm calling him Fox."  She was all
pigtails, ribbons, and grins.  A small girl with a
big voice who once upon a time had broken three
hearts in one night.  Her father picked her up and
swung her in a circle, memories and dust swirling
all around them.  When she was back on the ground,
they both moved toward the window.

"Fox never liked his name.  You do remember that?"
Oh, the teasing that had gone on between her
children.  They'd never had serious fights, but the
teasing could be relentless.

"I don't care.  I liked it."

"Your nephew's name is William.  You should respect
that."

"But he won't know."

"We don't know what he will know.  You don't want
to scare him, do you?"


The girl remembered then that this was not the same
as the time before.  Her playmates now are others
like her, and a long lost brother and a nephew have
no place there.  She is still as stubborn as she was
in life, though, and she tells herself that she
will always remember *her* Fox.  Long summer
afternoons at the beach, the scent of apple pies
warm from the oven, running to get her favorite
horse on the merry-go-round -- these things could
fall away, but not her brother.  She won't forget
him, ever.

"No.  Okay.  William."

"Good.  That's settled.  Let's appreciate the
view."

The three stood together watching as the brilliant
vista turned blue-black, pieces of then tucked in
their pockets.


*****


"Scully, aren't you cold?"  Mulder hugged himself
as he entered the living room.

"Someone opened a window."

"Not guilty."

"And it's too high for William to reach. Plus, he's
sound asleep."  A look of concern crossed her face,
but they'd just checked the house for the night,
and all had been secure.  She took a long breath of
the cool October air before closing the window.

"Our second night here and we have an x-file.
Scully, we're back in business."

"Perhaps I forgot that it was open.  I think
everything's all right."  It had been a long couple
of days.

"Scully, are you certain you're okay with giving
living here a try?"

"Yes, I am.  Mulder, it's beautiful here and
William already loves it.  That beach is his as far
as he's concerned."  She bent to pick up what
looked like a scrap of fabric from the floor.  It
seemed to be an old hair ribbon.  Red.  She tucked
it into the pocket of her jeans.  They had a lot of
cleaning ahead of them.

Mulder gathered her into his arms and they stood
spooned, listening to the night.


- end  -