Change
by Cadiliniel

Email:  cadiliniel@hotmail.co.uk
Spoilers: None in particular, but set post-IWTB
Word Count: ~1371
Rating: G
Character/Pairing: Mulder/Scully
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine and I'd never make 
any money from them.
Author’s Note: I was wondering what Mulder and Scully 
would think of Obama's inauguration. I think they would think 
it's good :) Also, I'm not American, so please forgive any 
inaccuracies (and please do point them out if there are any!).  
This is my first fic for a very long time, so please be gentle.  
Constructive criticism very welcome.


She wriggled her toes against the cold floor and felt a slight 
shiver through her body. The cuffs of her long pyjama pants 
tickled the tops of her feet and she realised she should have put 
some socks on. It felt good to have the day off from work, and 
didn't at all begrudge being in the kitchen at 8:30am. The fruit 
was already prepared and on the table, the kettle was boiling 
and mugs ready to be filled. She padded out of the kitchen and 
onto rough carpet, making her way toward the table where a 
beaming Mulder sat. She placed a plate of pancakes beside the 
fruit and bottle of syrup.

"I could get used to this," he said, jabbing a pancake with his 
fork and transferring it to his plate. "But that would mean I'd 
have to get a job."

Scully smiled. "You just make the most of my good mood, 
Mulder; I have a board meeting tomorrow."

He watched her walk back to the kitchen to get the coffee and 
he marveled at the fact that here he was, Fox Mulder, sitting at 
a dinner table being served breakfast by the most amazing 
person in the world. Today was a good day indeed, he thought, 
echoing the thoughts that were being repeated with glee from 
the television set, volume turned low for now.

Scully returned to the table with two mugs of steaming coffee. 
She sat down and started picking at fruit and arranged the 
pieces on her plate, before grabbing a pancake. Mulder was 
grinning at her, and she blushed under his stare. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, his grin widening. "Just...how'd I get so 
lucky, huh?"

Scully thought she heard a certain wistfulness in his voice, a 
wistfulness that had been there since their re-acquaintance with 
the FBI. She put her fork down on her plate, leaned over the 
table and kissed him. Returning to her fruit with the taste of 
syrup on her lips, she said "Luck's got nothing to do with it, 
Mulder." They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence, not 
unusual for them, with smiles on their faces.

**

Scully heard the sound of the shower stop and knew that 
Mulder would be getting dressed and joining her soon. She was 
pacing the living room, wrapped in her favourite big sweater, 
its soft wool smooth against her skin. A nervous energy filled 
her which she could not explain, but she was transfixed by the 
images and sounds on the modest TV screen. She looked to the 
stairs when she heard soft footsteps, and smiled at Mulder, his 
hair showing the slightest remnants of moisture. Grabbing a tall 
glass of water from the kitchen, he sunk into his favourite spot 
opposite the TV and looked at her. "You gonna stand through 
the whole thing?"

She snuggled next him on the worn couch. Taken a somewhat 
by surprise, he leaned over to dispose of his glass and put his 
arm around her, allowing her maximum snuggle space. 

"It's exciting, isn't?" he said.

"It is. Look at all those people Mulder. They're all so happy."

"Rightly so, don't you think?" His eyes moved from the screen 
to her.

"Yeah, I think so." She did not turn from the images on the 
screen and Mulder pulled her a little closer to him. They stayed 
that way and watched the morning unfold. They watched as 
newscasters chattered excitedly, commentators passed their 
judgement, and people danced in the street, celebrating and 
keeping warm. They listened as Maya Angelou ruminated and 
reflected on the man who was under scrutiny of the world.

Scully sat up as Barack Obama placed his hand on a Bible to 
make the oath that 43 men had spoken before him. Mulder's 
hand remained on her back, making small circular motions. 
Cheers and shouts from the screen were deafening, but all fell 
silent and allowed the President to speak. Mulder's eyes drifted 
from the screen again to watch Scully, and he saw tears in her 
eyes as she listened to the man's words. *"With hope and virtue, 
let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms 
may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when 
we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did 
not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the 
horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great 
gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations."*

He was listening intently, and felt a lump in his own throat. He 
felt Scully turn to face him and the tears in her eyes had not 
fallen. "Let's go out for lunch," she said, and Mulder raised his 
brows. Even though months had passed since he was pardoned, 
they had not yet taken the step of freely moving about in public 
again. She took his silence as a sign he needed convincing.
 
"Let's go...find a diner, with a TV in the corner, where there are 
people eating burgers and fries and looking forward."

Mulder smiled at her, and squeezed her hand. "Okay, Scully," 
he said, "We'll do that. But can I get changed first? 'Cuz I'm not 
making my grand return to public life in the pants I wear to 
work the yard..."

She laughed and smacked his arm. "Go! Be quick," she 
grinned, wiping at her eyes.

**

They'd driven for a while before finding the perfect place to 
eat, all neon lights despite the sunshine. They'd huddled into a 
booth and ordered a burger and fries each, with onion rings 
between them. They picked at the food and watched the tiny 
television screen tucked away by the counter. Mulder wiped 
grease from his finger tips and took Scully's small hand in his 
own. “You okay?” he asked, noting her silence. She looked up 
at him, and he thought she might ignore his question and turn 
away again, as she had so many times in the past.  But she did 
not turn away. 

"If...if we only have three years left, all this hope for the 
future...it just seems so sad."

Mulder turned to face her properly. "Scully...we do not only 
have three years left. There’s no way."

Scully smiled a little and squeezed his hand, reassuring him she 
wasn’t going insane. "I know I'm being silly, really, Mulder, I 
just can't help wondering."

"Well, stop it." He kissed her temple. "You think too much, 
and besides, there are better things to wonder about."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." He looked around the diner for a moment, before 
fishing into his pocket and pulling out a few coins. He held 
them up. "Why don't you call your family?"

Her eyes lit up. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I’m serious."

"But what if..."

Mulder silenced her with a quick kiss. "Stop thinking. It's one 
phone call. From a pay phone. And you know what? Even if 
there are people still watching us, I think they’ve got more 
important things to worry about today, huh?"

She stared at him a moment before taking the coins from his 
hand – she had plenty in her own pocket, but it was the gesture 
that mattered. She leant her head against his, thanked him, and 
told him she loved him. He smiled in return and told her to say 
hi to her mom from him. At that she grinned, kissed him, and 
climbed from the booth, practically jogging over to the pay 
phone. Mulder watched as she put the money in and dialed the 
number she still knew. He was too far away to hear anything, 
but from the way she was moving – practically jumping for joy 
– he knew that the phone call was a happy one. He wondered 
about her fear for the future. He'd be lying to himself if he 
thought he hadn't spent many hours pondering their fate, the 
world's fate. He looked at the small, flickering television and 
saw all the faces in the crowds, unified in one celebratory 
gesture. Mulder didn't know what would happen in one years' 
time, never mind three, but one thing he did know, and that 
was that change could be good after all.