Feels Like Home by Mack the Spoon Rating: PG Classification: SA Keywords: Post-Series. MSR. Spoilers: IWTB. I strongly recommend NOT reading if you haven't seen the movie and don't want to be spoiled! Summary: "I can't help wondering if it can really be this simple," she admitted. "Can we really just come out of hiding, as easy as that?" Disclaimer: I don't own the show, the characters, or the movie. Author's Note: I loved the movie, but I needed to know what happened between them being on the run and moving into that house together. Also, I'm absolutely sure that a certain character's appearance in IWTB was not the first time they'd all spoken since the show. Also, huge thanks to Dasha for her editing and extremely helpful comments! Archive: Just ask first, please. Feedback: I would dearly love some! Please send it to glace_aux_fraises@hotmail.com ~~~~~~~ "So, what do you think? Ready to go back?" She sighed, staring again at the email on his computer screen, but without reading it. "Well, if Skinner says it's safe..." "I know you're tired of hiding, Scully. You're still barely used to our assumed names even after a year of living up here - this is our chance to be done with that," Mulder said. He clearly knew he didn't need to plead or coax, she was pleased to notice (even though she had already heard him say all this). He was just quietly re-stating the facts. "I know, Mulder. I do want this, but I can't help wondering if it can really be this simple," she admitted. "Can we really just come out of hiding, as easy as that?" It all felt so anticlimactic after the constant danger of being on the run, and even Skinner's reassurance left her wondering if it was too good to be true. "Well, you were never exactly much of a wanted criminal, anyway," Mulder pointed out again. "Yes, and you shouldn't have been, either!" she said. "And it galls me that you would still officially have that status." He made a wry face. "Well, yeah, I'm not happy about that either, but the point is we both get to go home, Scully." *Home,* she thought. The meaning of that word had changed so much and so frequently these past years. For several months, it had meant an exhausting series of hotels in places where they were the only things familiar to each other. More recently, home had been this Canadian rental where she still never quite felt they could let their guard down. All this meant that she had no idea, even if they chose a place near D.C., what it would be like. After having had no contact with her family for this long - they might still think she and Mulder were dead, for all she knew - she couldn't begin to imagine casually contacting her mother again. "What's home, Mulder?" she whispered, wistful. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him on the couch. "Home is where you are." She smiled and leaned on him. "Okay. Let's go." ~~~~~~~ Skinner had arranged a meeting with her as soon as they were back. They still had no permanent place to stay, but Skinner didn't ask. In fact, apart from asking, "How are you two doing?" Skinner didn't want to know much about Mulder, either. "The less I know, the better, even now, Scully." He had looked at her concernedly until she nodded. She had understood. "So what exactly is my status, sir?" "Those who were most eager to find you and Mulder don't appear to be around in any noticeable capacity anymore. I was able to erase the charges against you with very little effort. You're free to use your real name, get a job, open a bank account, whatever you need," he had explained. Those possibilities being open again felt unreal. "Thank you, sir," she replied. She tried not to feel overwhelmed, and instead shook herself and moved on to make sure the important issues were covered. "And Mulder should stay hidden." It was not a question. "That would be best. Again, there should be little if any interest in pursuing him, but I've also seen to it that no one should bother you about him, either." Scully had nodded again. It was strange to think that here was a chance to at least appear to have a life in which no one need connect her with Mulder. She had not expected nor hoped for that. After a short conversation about the logistics of being hired as a doctor somewhere in the area when it would appear as if Dana Scully hadn't even existed for around two years now, there had been a lull. "Scully, do you need anything?" he had asked seriously, leaning forward over the table in the restaurant booth. She had smiled. "No, thank you, sir. You've done so much already, and I think we'll be able to take it from here." "If there is anything at all, whatever or whenever, you call me, all right, Scully?" They had stood, and the hug that followed was heartfelt on both sides. "Thank you again, sir. We both appreciate this more than we can say." She had found that her eyes were moist, and Skinner's looked suspiciously bright as well when they parted ways. ~~~~~~~ A week later, they had settled on a house in the middle of nowhere, Virginia. It wasn't exciting, but it was in decent shape, not a bad size, and the location, though wild, was beautiful. Scully bought a car with a large part of the remainder of the money they'd saved, and then they looked at options for where she should work. Scully had been interested in pediatrics even while she was still working under an alias, and Our Lady of Sorrows was one of the two that had a position open in that department. Of course, she would have to start out by completing her residency, but that didn't deter her. It had felt right to work at a Catholic hospital, and Mulder agreed when she voiced this opinion, perhaps surprisingly offering no comments of his own about it. They quickly made their house a home. Mulder slipped easily back into his research, and easily back into not quite keeping the house as clean and tidy as Scully could have wished. The novelty of using her real name for everything from interactions with coworkers and patients to banking took a while to wear off. Mulder took to calling her "Doc" every so often, and at first she pretended to be annoyed, but in reality she took it in the spirit it was intended: he knew she was doing what she wanted to do, now, and he was happy with that. She, on the other hand, worried about Mulder. His research seemed aimless, as restless as he was. Neither of them discussed 2012 much if they could help it, by unspoken agreement (and mutual denial, she thought). Now she never entered his makeshift office to find him focused on it anymore, either. He still acted the same - almost - and she caught no real trace of depression in his demeanor while she was with him. Yet the sardonic edge he'd always had seemed perilously close to becoming serious bitterness. He needed a distraction, something to get him out of his office for more than a quick trip to the store or a restaurant. But Scully was uneasy about what that might entail, too, since the only thing that seemed likely to spark enough enthusiasm in him would be an X-File. He still tracked unexplained events religiously. At the same time, should it become possible for Mulder to actually investigate one of these events, Scully had to admit to herself that she was worried about what that could do, too. The years had not much dulled her memories of being left behind as he whisked off to the Arctic or Bermuda without so much as letting her know where he was going. There was no reason to expect anything as drastic as that to happen. On the contrary, there was reason to hope Mulder had learned from those mistakes. The fact was, however, that Scully had gotten used to a life free of those worries, and she wasn't sure she wanted to risk it. "Mulder," she said one night, waiting until there was a grunt of acknowledgment from his side of the bed before she continued, "you'd tell me if... if you couldn't stand this life, wouldn't you?" There was a brief pause, and then he turned over to put a hand on her shoulder under the covers. "What do you mean, Scully? There's nothing intolerable about this." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "You're really happy, staying here all day and researching?" she asked. He sighed into her ear, and took a few moments before speaking. "Scully, I'm thankful that we have a home, a peaceful home for ourselves, you have a job you love, and I can do what I want without anyone bothering me about it." Scully echoed his sigh. "But is it really what you want? I know you well enough to see that you're restless, Mulder." "Don't worry about it, Scully. I'm not about to go stir-crazy here. I get exercise, I get a change of scenes every so often, and I get you. That's all I need. The last one especially." He squeezed her again, and she put her hand on his. "Go to sleep." She wanted to believe in his sincerity. "Okay." She turned over to kiss his lips lightly, although his beard got in the way a bit and she wrinkled her nose briefly. "Good night, Mulder." "G'night, Scully," he said, returning the kiss and putting his arms around her. And despite her lingering fears, Scully's conviction remained unshakable - this was home.