04/18/00 Lamentations by Araxdelan Disclaimer- Since this is my day of indulgence, I'm indulging myself by pretending that they're mine. Rated- NC-17 Summary- Life is never predictable. After Mulder's takes some unexpected turns, he gets a pleasant surprise that leads to perfection. Notes- In March I decided to make writing indulgent birthday stories for myself a tradition (see last year's *Birthday Wishes*), and remembered this story. I had started it in January, but decided that the set-up was too implausible no matter how fond of the story I was. I picked it up again for my birthday, and I rather like the way it turned out. It also features a cast of wild "original" characters. They're actually members of my seventh grade class, and the school and neighborhood are set up the way things were at and around my old elementary school, back when I used to go there. And yes, I did Mary Sue a seventh grade version of myself. Don't worry though. Mary Sue and company only make a cameo appearance. Warnings- Schmoop, implausibility, strong emotions, and silliness ahead. Hey, it's *supposed* to be indulgent, so I went all out! ______________________________________ Lamentations by Araxdelan <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Prologue <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Every person you know and care about fills a place in your life. A place within your heart. And when a person leaves, dies, they leave that little place empty. But, like cracks in cement, these empty places can be filled. The people are never replaced, but their holes are filled and the dull aching sadness, the need for them in your life slowly abates until the pain is bearable. Until you don't need them quite so much. For a long time, I couldn't deal with their deaths. Having everyone in my life end up dead left me completely hollow. It turned the victory of the war bitter. Human kind had won, but I was left completely alone. Weary, with nothing left, I moved away. Away from the memories, away from DC and the Bureau. I left to recreate myself. Which was a mistake. But, considering that the only other path I had ever considered was suicide, I made the best decision possible. I went and got certified as a teacher. I had decided that I hadn't saved this world for myself or my friends, but for future generations. I became a grade school teacher, to look over the people my friends had died for. I suppose I was also doing it for selfish reasons. After so many years of interacting with killers and monsters and aliens, I needed innocence. I had run from interacting with children for so many years. They had reminded me too much of Samantha. But I had filled that crack with other things, and I was able to look upon their smiling (and sometimes mischievous) faces without pain. They helped me in ways I could never quite explain. They made me realize that my loss and the other's sacrifice hadn't been in vain. They made me remember that there is good in the world. They so occupied me that I didn't have time to remember the bad things. I still fondly remembered the good, and sometimes told them of my more humorous FBI experiences. Science lessons were always peppered with Scully anecdotes. Interacting with them filled some of my cracks, and casual friendships with my co-workers filled others. Living became not only bearable, but quite good. I had a life once more, and I was now securing the world’s future in an entirely different way. But there was one crack I could never fill. I was still plagued by nightmares that no amount of time or healing could rid me of. And, surprisingly, they weren't about Scully or Skinner or The Gunmen, my beloved dead. The images were always of Alex Krycek. The man I thought to be a traitor. The man who was really a savior in disguise. A quadruple agent, of all things, stealing the information we needed. Revealing his true nature, and fighting with us. I never knew the true him until the end, and by the time I fell in love with him it was too late. The dreams vary. The easiest to deal with are the ones where he is courageously fighting an alien, and gets torn to bits. The bloody mess is hard to bear, but I've seen much in my time, and can handle it. The sense of closure in the dream is actually almost satisfying. In the worst of the nightmares, Alex comes back to me. He is no more than a ghostly apparition, and he floats over my bed. Whispers words of love in my ear, kisses my cheek, and disappears. When he leaves he takes my heart with him. I am left so empty that the feeling is even more painful than the sense of loss I felt in the few days after the war ended. I tried and tried to fill the hole he left. Dating was a disaster. I wanted to find someone else I could love, but I saw no one with the same inner fire as him. No one who interested me. Which led to blind dates, which led to disaster. I spent time at tables in fancy restaurants, listening to women drone on about their lives, comparing them to Alex, and finding they came up short. I didn't even try dating men. Even then I knew I could never love another man. It took me some time, but I finally realized I could never love another women either. The dating ceased, and I was alone. I feel as though I'm sulking. As though I'm stubbornly holding on to the past and false ideals. I suppose it might be easier if I had more closure on the matter. Alex's body was never found. But the last night of the war he and his troops staged an ambush at the largest and most important ship. We called it "headquarters". It had been the first ship to land, and it was where they planned and gathered. His team managed to blow it up, but they had also blown themselves up in the process. I got word of his death just as I was getting word of the others. I couldn't, wouldn't accept it at first. Alex Krycek was a survivor. He was going to walk through the door, coming to help with the cleanup and to give his condolences. I would tell him how I felt, and he would help me get through the pain. It was a fantasy born of desperation, and after a few days of waiting my mind cleared, and I was able to begin dealing with the fact that the man I loved was dead. That I had never kissed him, never held him, never told him how I felt. I mourned. But now, three years later, I still don't quite fully believe that he's gone. Intellectually, I know he's dead, and have know since the moment I gave up on my silly fantasy. Perhaps before. But it still feels as though he's alive. As though the cracks he left in me won't heal, won't fill, because he's still out there somewhere, able to come and take his place within my heart again. I still love him, still crave him. He could fill me, make me whole in a way nothing else can or will. //But he's gone.// I always tell myself. It doesn't seem to matter <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Some time later.... <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> They say that teaching is an adventure. If "they" are right, I'd say that teaching seventh grade is equivalent to climbing Mount Everest, The kids come in twelve, and turn thirteen under my watchful eye. A tumultuous time in their lives. Their hormones are beginning to rage, and their emotions are flip flopping. They're still young enough to act like rambunctious children, yet old enough to have teenage problems: romance and such. All of this makes it's way into my classroom. I love it. And it was on one of these wonderful adventurous afternoons that it happened. I was in the middle of a Social Studies lesson on the Constitution, and Tony was being his usual sarcastic self, and making wise-ass comments. I being my usual responsible teacher self, was trying to be stern. And, like always, I failed, and ended up cracking up. Tony was a good student, even though he was a bit destructive with classroom equipment. So, if he wanted to make inappropriate comments once in awhile, I could let it slip. Besides, he was hilarious. I was biting my lip, giggling. Looking up I saw him, standing in the doorway, smiling gently. The smile fell from my face and I gasped. I was sure I had fallen into some pit of insanity; that my obsession with him had grown to the point where I was hallucinating. But the children had noticed my surprise and turned in their seats to face the back doorway. They stared at the stranger in the leather jacket that was causing their teacher to react so strangely. It was then that I knew he was real. I took a deep breath to calm myself. It was a futile action; I hadn’t seen Alex in three years, and my heart felt like it would pound right through my chest. Not being able to stand even the slightest distance between us any longer, I strode towards the back of the classroom, and wrapped my arms around him. He looked surprised, and stiffened for a moment. Even after I had forgiven him and accepted him as part of the team I had never been affectionate with him, so he was probably a bit shocked. But he smiled, pleased, and wrapped his arms around me. Which made me start. I pulled away from him, holding him at arms length, and gave him a questioning look. He smiled and said, "One last present from the rebels." I probably should have checked his blood anyway, just in case, but I was too distracted to think clearly. I had Alex alive and whole in my arms. Blinking away tears, I said, "I’m so glad you’re alive. So fucking glad." He bit his lip, fighting away tears too. "I’m glad you’re alive. I thought...." He never finished his sentence, just took me into his arms and held me tightly. I held him in much the same way, and for a few moments we just stood like that, rocking back and forth and enjoying each other’s living warmth. "Who the hell is that?" The moment was interrupted when Lisa, in her usual charming manner, posed the question that was certainly on the minds of all my students. It reminded me of where I was and I reluctantly pulled out of the hug. I turned to look at the class. They were all turned towards Alex and me, unshamefully staring. I briefly wondered how to explain him. The children, like everyone else in the world, knew of the war, and knew that I was involved. I could tell them that he was a colleague, a brother in arms, or a fellow warrior. But that didn’t seem to cover it. Didn’t explain the fierce affection between us. But I tend to forget the perceptiveness that children have. Before I could formulate a proper answer, the correct question was asked. "Were you in the war, too?" Victor asked. "Yeah," Alex answered, "I was." This prompted a round of "Cool!" ‘s from many of the boys. They began asking him questions about the war. They had always been curious about my experiences as well, but I had never answered their questions. Alex, on the other hand, seemed happy to indulge them. The girls understood the importance of war and death a bit better, and knew better than to ask me questions. But they seemed happy to listen to Alex. At first I thought that it was because it kept them from their classwork. And then I thought it was curiosity. But I soon realized the real reason why they were giving him their full attention; they were checking him out. I smothered a laugh. It wasn’t unusual; they were always talking about men and looking at pictures of handsome movie stars. I even knew that a few of them had crushes on me. But there was something so amusing about the fact that they were looking Alex, my Alex, up and down. I wondered if they saw the same things I did. Three years hadn’t aged the man much. He had a few more smile lines, but otherwise looked exactly the same. Beautiful. I stared fondly at him. I don’t know how long I was focused on him, but a raised hand in the corner of my vision snapped me out of my reverie. I jumped a bit, scanning my untended classroom, making sure everything was in order. Everyone was occupied and the noise level was at a tolerable level; things were okay. But I realized I must have been out of it for quite some time when I caught some the of more observant girls giving me questioning looks. There were also a few observant and savvy girls who gave me *knowing* looks, which made me blush and turn away. Apparently I had given myself away with my loving observation of Alex. Finally, scan of the classroom complete, I turned to the raised hand of Joanne. I mentally groaned, knowing what she wanted. "Yes, Joanne?" "Shouldn’t we be getting back to the lesson?" Joanne wasn’t a particularly smart girl, but she got exceptional grades because she studied so damn much. It was her entire life, and the fact that we were interrupting class for no good reason must have been killing her. In that moment, my feelings towards Joanne mirrored those of her peers. Pure hate. You couldn’t dis-like the girl, she was too polite and nice. But she was such a fucking goody-goody that you just wanted to spite her. Instead I sighed, and stopped one of the Kevins from asking another question. "Guys? Guys! Listen, we have to get back to class." There was a chorus of moans and groans. "But there’s only fifteen minutes left!" Rowan shouted. "Yeah," Lisa said, "Can’t we just leave early?" I looked at the clock, and there was only fifteen minutes until the bell. I probably had just enough time to finish the lesson. But... "Okay, everybody, I don’t have enough time to finish the lesson." I paused for the cheers. "So we’ll have silent reading time for the next few minutes," I paused for the groans. "Get out your novels, and start reading. I’ll be out in the hall, and remember, I can hear you." As they dug in their backpacks and desks for their books I motioned for Krycek to precede me out into the hall. I did a quick scan and determined that all the other doors were closed. I left my door open so I could hear any disruptions, and walked towards the center of the row of lockers that were outside my classroom. From there we couldn't be seen from the window on the door of the classroom opposite mine. Alex and I stood in silence for a minute. I wanted to know where he had been, and I tried to properly compose the question within my mind, but what tumbled out was, "How... how are you not dead?" "That last night I was scheduled to go out with squad seven and take out headquarters. But right before we were supposed to head out I got a phonecall. The rebels needed to see me, urgently. I didn’t want leave the team, but they said it couldn’t wait and because I was our liaison with the rebels I thought it was my duty. I named Dempski head of the team in my place, and set out. "I think... I think that they knew. That they knew the ship would blow early and take the team out, that the war would be over by morning. So they called me in to ‘thank’ me. They did this by using their healing abilities to give me my arm back. I passed out because of the stress on my body, and when I awoke I was back in my apartment. "I found out that the rebels left as soon as they dropped me off. They knew that the threat was neutralized, they thanked their human friend, and the started the journey home. "When I woke the first thing I found out about was our victory. It was all over the news. They were tentative about calling it that because they didn’t know all the details, but I did and I was ecstatic. I wanted to find everyone, to celebrate. Which is when I found out about the deaths, one by one. Langly, Byers, Skinner, Frohike, and Scully. I kept thinking, ‘Mulder must be devastated!’, ‘Mulder must be devastated!’. But then...." He took a deep breath, and continued. "Sometime after I heard about Frohike, I started getting scared. And after Scully, I crossed my fingers, and prayed. When.... I.... when I started asking around about you, reports varied. But, by ten a.m., official word was that you were dead, too." I had forgotten about that. Forgotten that I had been separated from my team and that they had reported me dead. At this point Alex seemed a bit shaken, a bit emotional, but he steadied himself and continued in a calmer tone of voice. "Thinking you were dead, I saw no reason to come back. There were others better suited to handle the cleanup. no reason for me to get involved. And then I heard that I was also thought dead, and I decided to take that opportunity to disappear. I was still afraid my efforts wouldn’t be appreciated and that I’d be thrown in jail, and afraid that some of my enemies were still out there, waiting. "I have a lot of money stashed away. I had bought a small cabin near a rural community in Washington state. In the few days it took to get there I was too distraught to hear the news; to hear that you were alive and a hero, and that the rest of us were dead heroes. "In the beginning I spent most of the time in isolation. When I did go to town for supplies I never bothered to check the news. I just didn’t care. And I didn’t have a TV or computer, so the news never slipped in. "By the time I started becoming interested in something besides healing, the news of the war ending wasn’t news anymore. So even after I started buying newspapers, I never heard. I went about my life, eventually becoming a member of the little community. And, for three and a half years, that was enough. "But I started getting bored. Three weeks ago I decided to get a new computer, and to try to find a job that I could telecommute to. I ordered the computer and had it rushed in. A week later I was surfing the internet again. It was then that I found out...." "That I was alive?" "Yes," he said, quietly. "I was shocked. I knew I had to see you. Before the end of the week I had managed to find out where you moved, where you worked... which was also a shock..." We both smiled. "But I... I didn’t know if you’d want to see me. You have this whole other life now, and I didn’t know if you’d want to be reminded of your old one. So I waited, and gave it some thought, and decided that even if it was selfish, I had to see you. So I came." "God, Alex. Don’t feel bad. I’m so happy to see you. I... I thought that you were dead, but I didn’t *feel* it. And since they never found your body there was an enormous lack of closure, and it haunted me...." "I know the feeling," he said. Suddenly there was an enormous crash followed by a chorus of giggles emanating from my classroom. I turned towards the noise and glared at the doorway, knowing that inside, Tony had broken something. Alex laughed at me. "What?" I asked. "It’s just so funny to watch you with them. I never expected to see you interacting with children, and you have this *ease* with it." I smiled. "A few years ago I never would have thought I would be doing this, either. But, somehow, it was exactly what I needed. It helps, some, to be with them day after day, to help them, to be engrossed in their problems." "I’m glad you’re happy." I shrugged. "I'm okay. Work is good, but it’s not everything, you know. I want more." We looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, and he said, "Yes, I think I know." And then there was another crash from the room. "God damn it, if that kid breaks another stapler I’m going to kill him," I mumbled. I made my way into the classroom, Alex behind me, giggling. I entered the room, and there was the usual pandemonium. Nearly everyone (besides Joanne and her friend Janet) was engaged in a conversation with someone else. I was a very tolerant teacher, so no one paid any mind when I came in the room. I didn’t mind when they talked after they finished their work, but this was supposed to be silent reading time and I just wanted a moment to myself! "Hey!" I shouted. "HEY!" They all turned towards me expectantly. "You’re supposed to be reading! And Tony..." I turned towards the boy, "what did you break now?" "Why are you blaming me, man? I didn’t do anything!" I sighed, and did a quick check around the room. Nothing seemed to be broken, and I did a quick check of my stapler (the third new one since Tony had entered my class) and found it to be in working order. So, despite the fact that Tony’s female friends were all giggling, a sure sign that he’s caused *some* kind of trouble, I dismissed the crashes. I checked the wall clock and saw that it was almost time for the first dismissal bell. I wasn’t supposed to let the kids leave until the second bell, but I decided to let them out early. I had better things to concentrate on. "Everyone, get your stuff together. You can go to your lockers now, and then come back in and line up." There was a mad dash of book-gathering, backpack-zipping, and the scrape-lift-flip-bang of the children putting their chairs upside-down on the desks to leave the floor free for the janitors. Soon the classroom was nearly empty as my class ran outside to bang their lockers open and closed and disturb the other classrooms. I turned to Alex. "Here, have a seat. Take my chair, it’s the biggest in the room." He smiled. "Really? I’ve never sat in the teacher’s chair before." "You mean you never waited until the teacher was gone and sat in their chair?" "No. I was a good boy." "Gee, my students are always sitting in my chair. Especially during lunch. Some of them come up here to work on the school paper or to do homework, and they just plop right down...." "Mulder, your classroom is showing me that school has changed a lot since I was young." "Yeah, I guess my students are a little wild." "Do they get good grades?" "For the most part." He shrugged. "Then it doesn’t matter if you give them a little freedom. You’re still a good teacher." I smiled. "Thanks." Some of the students were filing back in and lining up along the walls, waiting to be dismissed. I knew the few stragglers in the hall would all be chatting with each other rather than gathering their things, so I decided to go and get them. I was in a rush, and didn’t want them slowing me down. "Alex?" "Yeah?" "I’ll be right back." I smiled. "You’re in charge until then." The sound of his husky chuckle followed me out into the hall. Lisa, Deidre, Jessica, Victor, and William were standing across the hall, talking to someone from the other seventh grade class. Those kids had a habit of asking their teacher if they could go to the bathroom and then coming out in the hall or coming into my classroom to talk to my kids, which pissed me off, but I decided to ignore it today. My kids noticed me, and I waved them over. They came in quietly. Then the bell rang and kids from other classrooms started coming out to their lockers. In the noise, the last three girls that I needed to talk to didn’t hear me approaching, and I caught part of their conversation. "I’m right," Alexandra told Rowan. "Admit it!" "You’re not right, you’re crazy!" She responded. "I’ve been telling you for months that Mr. Mulder is gay..." Oh, God. "...and now we have proof!" "That’s not proof," Rowan argued. "I don’t know... I think Alexandra might be right," said Leah. "Now you’re on her side?!" "No, she’s not ‘on my side’. She just saw the proof, and accepted it. Rowan, I can’t believe you’re so blind that you couldn’t see the way Mr. Mulder was looking at that friend of his... he is *so* in love with him. And that hug... oh mama! There was steam rising off of them! My glasses got all fogged up." "No way. I think he was in love with that Scully lady he’s always talking about...." I couldn’t believe they were having such a candid discussion about my sexuality. And it seemed to be a topic that they were familiar with. I took a few steps back and out of earshot, and called them. "Girls, get into the classroom." They all turned and gave me a speculative look, but didn’t seem to know that I had heard them. Alexandra closed her locker door, and the three of them walked into the classroom. I followed, wondering if they’d ever ask me openly about which way I swang. I was close to the three of them; they ran the school newspaper and I was their advisor. We spent most lunch hours together, and talked about their personal lives. Now I wondered if we’d be talking about mine.... Everyone was lined up and waiting. "Everyone, do you think you can behave yourself for long enough to walk downstairs without my supervision?" "Yes!" "I don’t know why you have to come with us anyway. We’re not in second grade!" "It’s the rule!" "Screw the rules!" "Can we leave?" "You didn’t assign us homework!" "SHUT UP!" I rubbed my temples for and said, "Just get out of here. And don’t run down the stairs or Mr. Hastings will have my ass for not walking you down." They practically ran out of the room, some shouting good-byes. I could hear them trampling down the stairs and I once again wondered how twenty-six pairs of gym shoes could make so much damn noise. I sighed, and turned to Alex, who was leaning his elbows on my desk and smiling. "I love this job, but some days I just can’t wait to get home." He nodded. "You want some down time? We could always meet up for dinner or something later." That wasn’t what I wanted at all. "No, that’s okay. I got rid of them early so we could be alone." The second bell rang, dismissing all the other students. "Well, it wasn’t all that early," I said, "but I take what I can get. So, you want to come home with me, see my house, or do you want to go back to your hotel?" "I haven’t checked in yet." "Where are you staying?" "I don’t know yet. I sort of left on the spur of the moment. I was hoping you could recommend someplace." It was perfect, too perfect. I could tell him how I felt, and then... "Would you like to stay with me?" "Sure, that would be great. If you don’t mind a houseguest." "No problem." I grabbed my lesson plan and stuffed it in my bag. I had some other things to do before I left, but I decided to take my students own advice; screw them! "I’m done here. Do you have a rental or...?" "I took a taxi. They let me leave my bag in the office downstairs." "All right, we’ll go pick it up, and then head to my place." I flicked the lights off and Alex followed me out the door, and downstairs. <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Alex was surprised to find out that I live within walking distance of the school. The day was pleasant, and the walk home was filled with talk of the neighborhood. Alex commented on how pretty it was, and I pointed out where all the crazy neighbors lived, and what their problems were. We saw a few of my students on the walk home, and waved to them. After four blocks we came to my house, and Alex was once again surprised. "Mulder, it’s so... cute! I can’t imagine you living here." "It was the only one on the market near the school, and I wanted to be close to work." "But *still*." He was right. The small two story house was picturesque. Light blue siding, dark blue shutters, a garden in the front yard, and a white picket fence. Even a welcome mat on the front porch, which boasted a porch swing. "There’s even a tree house in the back," I informed him. He laughed. "No! What are you going to do with that?" I shrugged. "I was going to tear it down, but some of the neighborhood kids were friends with the boy who lived in this house, and they had club that met there. When I bought the house they didn’t have anywhere to meet, so I told them they could keep using it. It’s not like I’m going to!" "Mulder, this is too much!" I snorted. "Well, I bet you have plenty of stories about living life in a small town." "Yeah, I do. There’s this great one about when the sheriff was cheating on his wife..." "You’ll tell me later?" "Sure." I opened up the front gate, and led him around towards the back. When we go there, I pointed to a tree in the back left corner of the yard. "See, there's the tree house. And that's what used to be a vegetable garden. And the rest is the remains of Mrs. Huskle's flower garden. After she moved out I didn't keep it up, and the few things that continue to grow, despite my disinterest, are usually trampled by the kids." Alex looked around, smiling. "It's not too bad. You must do *something* to it." "Well, sometimes I spray the hose over them. And if I see weeds I'll pull them up..." He laughed. "That's gardening, Mulder! You garden!" I thought about it for a moment, and said, "Well I'll be damned. I *do* garden, don't I? When did I get so domestic?" "I have no idea, but it's definitely amusing." "Wanna go inside now?" He nodded, and I put my hand on his back and guided him towards the rear door. I noticed that we seemed to be touching each other a lot. Hugging, brushing, putting a hand on each other's arms when making a point... little touches. It made me happy. I walked him up the stairs to the back porch, and let go in order to open the screen door and jiggle my key into the lock. When I finally got the sticky thing to turn, I opened the door and walked inside. When I noticed that Alex wasn't following, I turned around, and found him standing in the doorway. "What's wrong?" I asked. He shook his head, smiling. "I'm just waiting for a dog to come bounding up to knock you down and lick you. Or maybe a cat. Yeah, a cat walking up and winding itself around your legs, purring." "Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have any pets." "Not even goldfish? What happened to your tank?" "You didn't notice? I brought it in to my classroom. The kids are much better at keeping fish alive than I am." I dropped my keys on the table and my bag on a chair, and opened the shades to let some light in. "So, Alex, are you hungry? Want anything to eat? Drink?" "You actually have food in the house?" "Yes...." Despite my answer, Alex seemed to feel a need to check things out for himself. He walked over to my refrigerator, and opened it to scan the contents. Finding it full, he gasped dramatically, before shutting the door, and turning to me. "Mulder, I don't know what's more shocking; the fact that you're alive, or what you've done with your life in the past three years." I shrugged. "It's okay. Different." "Just 'okay'? Mulder, you're living in a dream world. It's perfect!" I opened my mouth to reply, but paused. What was I supposed to say? It's a good life, but it didn't turn into a dream till you walked in? Finally, I just said, "It's okay." Thankfully, he didn't press me. I walked him into the living room. "You can just drop your bag right there. And, so you know, that door, over there," I said, pointing to the door under the stairs, "Is to the downstairs bathroom. And through there is the dining room." But I don't know if he was paying much attention. He had dropped his bag, and then began wandering around, looking at my bookshelves, my knickknacks. And then he came to the fireplace mantle. He first looked at the picture in the center; it was my class' picture, taken earlier in the year. All my students dressed up and smiling, and me standing proud on their left, smiling right along with them. When Alex saw the picture, he smiled too. But the other pictures dimmed his smile, made it turn sad. They were all framed photos of my dead. A picture of the Gunmen, rare in that they actually let themselves be photographed, paranoid freaks that they were. One of Scully and Skinner together at an office party. Two more of Scully on her own. And one of Alex, stolen from the Bureau's computers before I quit. The same one that used to be on his badge. When he came to it he picked it up and held it in his hands. His head was down-turned, and his sad smile turned a bit brighter, a bit shyer. When he turned his head up to look at me, he said, "I... I hate this picture." I smiled. "Yeah, you do look pretty dorky in it..." "Hey!" "... but it was the only one I could find of you." And that was a bit of a lie. I did have one other picture of him. I had taken it myself, quite accidentally. We had been at the Lone Gunmen's, having a bit of an informal strategy session. Frohike had just gotten a new top of the line digital camera, and I was playing with it. I was just snapping random shots, and Langly had been telling Alex some stupid dirty joke, and Alex was laughing. He just looked so.... so..... and on a whim I called his name, and he turned around and I managed to take a great picture of him. I had framed it, and it was sitting on the bedside table in my bedroom. I just didn't know how Alex would take it, so I didn't mention it. He put the photo back on the mantel, and continued wandering around. When he started flipping through my (large) CD collection, I left him and went into the kitchen. I kicked off my shoes onto the mat next to the door, and then began going through my freezer and cupboards trying to see what I could make for dinner. I soon returned to Alex. When I walked in he turned his attention to me, and I asked, "Is chicken okay for dinner?" His eyebrows shot up. "You're going to *cook*? You, Fox 'I can't make toast without starting a fire' Mulder?" I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I can cook. I finally learned how." "Well, I'm certainly impressed." "Mmm. So, you never answered me before. Are you hungry now? Because I'm not going to start dinner for a few hours." "No, I'm not hungry. But I am a bit jet-lagged. Plus this has been sort of an emotional day...." "I understand. Um... there's no guest room. I turned it into an office. But you can sleep in my bed, if you like." He nodded. "That would be nice, thanks." And then I knew that he was going to see the photo. I debated with myself on whether or not to run upstairs and hide it, but before I'd made my decision, Alex had grabbed his bag and started his way up the stairs. I followed. He was waiting for me at the top of the steps. I first pointed out my office. He peeked in, and remarked on it's cleanliness. And then I directed him across the hall, and into my bedroom. He glanced around, but didn't seem to notice the picture. He put his bag down on the floor, and sat on the bed to untie his shoes. I hovered nervously in the doorway. When he had pulled his sneakers off and straightened up again, he saw it. His eyes went wide, and he tentatively reached out to pick up the frame. He held it in his lap and gazed at it for some time. When he finally looked up at me, his face was serious, his voice quiet. "When was this taken?" I couldn't quite identify his tone. Fear? Shock? Awe? Definitely not anger, which made me relax a bit. "Three months before it all went down. Remember the meeting where Byers and Langly got into that huge fight when Byers found a colony of ants in one of the computers and found out they were there because Langly had accidentally spilled his Mountain Dew on it?" Alex rolled his eyes. "Who could forget?" "Well Frohike had gotten his new camera that day, and I was playing with it and I took that picture and, well... it's a nice picture and..." He interrupted my rambling. "Mulder, why.... Never mind. I... I'm tired. I'm going to go to sleep now." He put the frame back in it's spot, and then climbed into my bed. I had the irrational urge to tuck him in, but I managed to restrain myself. "Well, goodnight," I told him. He smiled, and said, "Goodnight. And thank you for letting me stay with you." I smiled back, and walked out, shutting the door. His smile told me that he was okay with the picture, for whatever reason it was there, and all my nervous fear receded. I turned, and walked into my office. I worked for a few hours, grading papers and planning my next class project. Around six-thirty, I went downstairs and started on dinner. While the chicken was cooking, I set the dining room table. I don't usually eat in there, but since I had a guest I decided to make things a bit fancier. I put out the good china I had inherited from my mother, and some candles. I even went into the garden and picked some flowers, putting them in a vase at the center of the table. At seven-thirty, everything was ready. I put the food onto plates and carried it into the dining room, along with a bottle of wine. I lit the candles, and went upstairs to wake Alex. The sun had just set, and the room was dark. The open door let in just enough light from the hallway that I could see Alex. He was curled up with my pillow; holding it tightly and burying his face in it. The sight made my heart ache. As I slowly approached the bed, he awakened a bit. I gently took a seat at the edge of the mattress, and he sleepily blinked up at me. "Fox?" he questioned, quiet and tentatively, his voice scratchy with sleep. I reached out and brushed his hair with the tips of my fingers. "Yes?" He reached up and grabbed my hand. Held it in his own. "It's... it's really you?" "Yeah, just me." He squeezed my hand. "I thought... I thought that I dreamed today. I..." his voice cracked, "I thought that I was going to wake up and find out that you really were dead, and..." But he couldn't finish his sentence and he dissolved into tears. Pulling my hand to his cheek he rubbed his face against it. His tears were hot against my skin, and his face was so sad, I began crying too. I scooted up on the bed some more, and he took the hint and moved over. I drew him into my arms and held him as we cried. He was so warm and alive, and I could feel his heartbeat. The gentle rhythm helped soothe me, helped me to stop my tears. It reminded me that, yes indeed, Alex was alive and well. That I no longer had a reason to cry. That I had everything I could ever want, everything I ever asked for, right in my arms. And soon Alex quieted as well. He pulled away from me, and sat up, brushing the wetness from his face. "I'm sorry, Fox. It's just that..." I stopped him. "No. Don't apologize. I understand." He smiled. "Thanks." He climbed out of bed. I almost reached out for him, almost asked him to stay, but I didn't know how well the request would be received. And, besides, our dinner was getting cold. "Fox, where's the bathroom?" "The door to your right. There's also a doorway in the hall that opens into the bathroom, just so you know." "Okay." I swung my feet off the bed and stood up. "Dinner's ready. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?" "Sure," he said, before closing the door. <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> The mood at dinner lightened considerably. Alex repeatedly complemented my cooking skills, and we chatted about some of the more humourous and happy things in our lives. After the meal was finished, Alex helped me clear the table, and insisted on doing the dishes. I sat on the counter next to the sink, and as he washed he told me the story of the sheriff and his wife. "...so, when she heard *that* she flipped out, and started chasing him around with a weapon." "What kind of weapon?" "Wait, I'm getting to that. It's the best part. So, she chases him around the house, and, like I said, he's afraid of her. So, despite the fact that he's the *sheriff* and has a *gun*, he gets scared and runs right out of the house. And, you know what?" "What?" "She runs right after him!" I laughed. "This is great." "That's not the best part... So, it's the middle of the day, and everyone in town is going about their business, when out runs the sheriff. He goes tearing down the street, and everyone's heads turn. They turn back, only to see his wife, in her housecoat, hair in curlers, chasing after him with a *rolling pin*!" I cracked up, slapping the counter next to my knee. "A rolling pin!" He broke into a big, beautiful grin. "Yeah. It was perfect. Just like in an old movie." "What happened then?" "Remember I said that the other woman ran the fabric store? Well, Sheriff Cassel runs right into the store, and hides behind her. His wife chases after him, and stops when she sees the woman. Eventually, they all go into the back room to talk. No one knows what was said, but they ended up having a threesome." I giggled and snorted. "That's a great story." Alex rinsed the last dish, and put it in the dish strainer. "All done." "Want to go sit in the living room?" "Sure." We still hadn't finished our wine, so we brought our glasses and the nearly empty bottle with us. We settled onto the couch, sitting close to one and other. I put the bottle down on the coffee table, and turned to Alex, with my glass in hand. But Alex wasn't looking at me. His gaze was centered on the mantle, on the pictures there. After a moment he turned back, put his glass down on the table, and faced me. He wore a serious expression. "What?" I asked. He took a deep breath, and looked down as he composed his thoughts. When he looked up again, he said, "Fox, we've been talking, but we've been avoiding a serious issue." "What issue?" "Your life... your, your *happiness*. I asked you earlier about your life, and you said it was 'okay'. I've gotten the feeling that something is wrong. I'm worried that you're holding onto the past." At first, I didn't know how to respond. Finally, I decided to tell the truth. "I.. I *was* holding onto the past. I mean, I had made my peace with most of it, filled most of the empty spots in my heart that belonged to my dead. But there was still... I couldn't get over you." He seemed genuinely surprised. "*Me?*" "Yes. I thought that I had accepted the fact that you were dead, but... I don't know... I didn't *feel* it. You didn't *feel* dead. And I would have nightmares..." "About me?" "Yes. You, getting torn apart by an alien. You, coming to me and then disappearing..." "Oh..." We both became quiet, staring at our laps. I didn't know what else to say. Didn't know how he would react if I told him exactly why his supposed death affected me so much. Didn't know, didn't know... But the talk of the nightmares had brought painful memories up fresh in my mind. I could feel remnants of the pain and sorrow I would feel after one of those nightmares. But having Alex next to me reminded me that I never had to feel like that ever again. It was then that I realized I was wasting my second chance. All those nights I had wanted nothing more in the world than to have Alex by my side. To have him alive. To be able to wrap my arms around him and hold him and kiss him and make love to him and to fall asleep next to his warm body. To wake up wrapped around him. And then I suddenly *did* have him by my side, and I wasn't doing a damn thing about it. And I knew that if I kept doing nothing, he would go back to his cabin and his typical little small town, and leave me all alone again. Leave me without him again. And I wouldn't be able to stand having my life come so close to perfection, and losing it because I was a fucking coward. All of this came to me quickly, in a bit of an epiphany, and I wasn't quite able to properly work all the thoughts out right then. But I knew, I *knew* what I had to do. Alex was still sitting next to me, staring at his lap. I softly called his name. He began to look up, and I took his chin in my fingers and gently guided his gaze until he was focused on me. His eyes were shining and scared, and I think mine must have been, too. I leaned in near to him, close enough to feel his breath on my face. "Alex, there's a reason I've been unhappy, a reason I've been having those nightmares. I could never replace the hole you left in my heart, because I could never love anyone else the way I love you." "F-Fox..." "Shhh..." And I leaned in the last few inches, and our mouths touched for the first time. We just sat like that for an endless moment, so many emotions flowing wordlessly between us. I could tell then that I hadn't been the only one waiting and wanting, mourning. And when I felt his breath hitch up in a sob I finally moved, wrapping my arms around him, and strengthening the kiss. Alex matched my actions, and soon his lips parted and allowed me to taste all I had been craving for so many long years. We kissed for what seemed like an eternity. Each moment was precious to me because I had been under the impression that I would never be able to experience them. But Alex was back from the dead, and every movement, every touch was perfect. When we pulled apart, Alex just held my head in his hand, fingers lightly petting my hair. He gazed at me, eyes the same lush green as tree-tops in the spring. "Fox, my Fox," he shook his head, as if in disbelief, "I thought you were gone. I thought I'd never even have the chance to give you one last pat on the back, let alone this. "Fox, I've... I've loved you for so long now. And..." At that point, he began crying, but continued. "...and I never got to tell you that. So every night I would pray to God and ask him to let you know how I felt. I knew you were up in heaven and I just *prayed* that he'd give you the message. Let you know because I was too stupid to tell you when I had the chance. I never thought I could get into heaven, not with all the shit I've done, but I did help get rid of the aliens, and I thought maybe he'd do me this one favor..." At that point, I was crying too, and I gathered him up in my arms and held him. He pulled me in even tighter, and we sat there, crying together for the years of unnecessary mourning. After awhile I pried Alex away from just enough so that I could reach his face with my lips. I kissed his closed eyes, kissed the tears that poured from them. I kissed the tip of his nose, his temples, his cheeks, his chin... all the parts of his beautiful face that I thought I'd never get to touch. Somewhere along the way he began speaking again. "Fox, I needed you so much. I was so empty and only you could fill me up and I thought I would be empty forever. I couldn't see any beauty in the world because I thought it had all died with you. You were the brightest and most lovely sight I had ever seen- nothing could ever compare to you and you were gone and I would have done anything *anything* just to see you again. Would have gone back and given the God-damn aliens the planet if it meant I could just touch you once..." I had thought the same things myself, when I was alone late at night. Had thought them over and over again, till the hurt was all there was. But Alex was alive, and I was alive, and I kissed his lips to cease the flow of lamentations. I pushed him back, so that he was lying flat against the couch. Still kissing, and I laid myself atop him. Our bodies fit together just as they had in my imagination. My mouth wandered, and everywhere it pressed it encountered soft, perfect skin. Alex's hands untucked my shirt and glided upwards, holding me tighter, wanting more. I stopped, and buried my face in his neck, breathing deeply. "Come to bed with me?" I asked. "Yes." I stood up, and offered him my hand. He took it, and held it, and we climbed the stairs together. When we reached my room, we pulled apart. His fingers went to his buttons, and as he unfastened them I was given my first glimpses of his bare chest. When the shirt finally hung open, I stepped forward and pushed it off his shoulders, guided down his arms and let it fall to the floor. And then my hands were finally *finally* on his bare skin. He was a perfect beauty, lit by the moonlight streaming in from the windows. His skin was milky and pure, and smelled clean; like earth and grass. I leaned in and rubbed my cheek against his chest, lay my head over his heart. It beat, it beat steadily, and I felt as though I was being given some grand gift. I kissed my way down his torso, past his bellybutton, and nuzzled his still-clothed erection. I felt undeserving of such a prize. I felt too unworthy to be the recipient of all my dreams, and my wishes. But it didn't matter how I felt. I had learned my lesson, and I was going to make sure I didn't waste a second. It wasn't long before Alex pulled me up, before he and I shed the rest of our clothes. we stood naked, skin to skin, holding, touching, feeling. Savoring. His hands wandered across my body. Pinching my nipples before sliding up, over my shoulders. Then down my back, lightly rubbing, down to my ass. He grabbed me there, pulled our hips together until our cocks pressed against each other. I gasped, threw my head back, and he used the opportunity to lick down my neck. I pulled him towards the bed and we fell on it. He lay fully atop me and writhed. Our mouths came together and as we kissed he thrust slowly, sensually against me. Every movement he's ever made has been graceful and beautiful, but just then he was something beyond that. He didn't move; he flowed. His body covered mine and every motion was liquid and smooth. I was drowning in him. His mouth broke away from mine, and began exploring my body. Every swipe of his tongue and brush of his lips was more than I had dreamed. But I wanted to taste him too, so I rolled him over and began devouring him. But it seemed that he hadn't felt he was finished with me, and rolled me back over, and soon it became a battle to see who could taste and touch more of the other. I do believe that it was the best fight we've ever had. Some way or another, I ended up upside down on the bed, his cock in my mouth as mine was in his. The joy of having something supposedly lost made the moment more about giving pleasure than receiving it, but with both of us giving so much, we broke even in the end. I did everything I could to make him writhe, and he did the same for me, and I had never been so awash in sensation in my whole life. The moment was sweet and smooth, cocooning us in it's warmth. I know neither of us wanted it to end, but it had been so long and I had wanted him for so many years... I came, moaning around the fullness in my mouth, and the vibration made him immediately follow. I sat for a moment to let us catch our breaths before I crawled up to the head of the bed and kissed him long and deep. I kissed our breaths right away again. "I love you," I told him, "and I don't deserve this much happiness." He gave me a drowsy smile, and said, "I love you too. And it makes me so glad to know that you're alive to be happy. I don't give a damn if either of us deserves it." I gave him a bittersweet smile; a smile a little sad for the years of unnecessary mourning. But we were tired and sated, and there was no more room for tears. I pulled the covers up around us and snuggled close to Alex. He wrapped his arms around me, and we fell asleep. <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> When I woke there was sunlight streaming through the windows. I looked quickly at the clock, and noticed that I was due in at work in twenty minutes. I was about to jump out of bed when I felt a warm arm wrapped around me. As I happily remembered the night before my gaze drifted from the clock to the picture next to it. I used to gaze at that picture, wondering what it would be like to wake next to my beautiful Alex. Suddenly, I knew. It was brighter and happier than anything I had ever experienced in my life before. I wanted to look at him, and I managed to turn around without waking him or breaking away from the light hold he had on me. Staring at him sleeping peacefully, I knew there was no way I was leaving the bed for anything. Anything except calling into work to tell them I wasn't coming in. I carefully snuck away from his embrace, and tip-toed into my office. I quietly made the phonecall, speaking like I had a stuffy nose. Faking a cold. Afterwards I made my way back to the bedroom. I stood in the doorway for awhile, watching Alex sleep in my bed. It was everything I could ever want. I knew that I had the perfect house and the perfect job in the perfect neighborhood. But my life hadn't been perfect before that moment. None of the other things made a difference because I didn't give a damn about them. I gave a damn about my Alex, and knowing that he was alive and whole and *mine* made life worth living. Made life one hundred percent, undeniably perfect. I crawled back into bed, and wrapped my arms around him. He unconsciously snuggled closer to me. I buried my face in his hair, and fell back asleep. <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> The next time I regained consciousness it was due to the fact that I was being most enthusiastically nuzzled. I smiled, and pressed a kiss onto the top of the head that was nuzzling me. Alex pulled his head away from my neck, and gazed brightly at me. "Good morning," he said. I swiveled my head around to check the time. "Actually, it's nearly afternoon." "Oh. *Oh*! Fox, your class...?" "I called in sick early this morning." "Why?" "Because I wanted to be with you." I said, gently petting his hair. "You shouldn't have done that. We could have had plenty of time together later tonight." I pouted. "But I didn't want to leave you. Getting out of bed to make the phonecall was hard enough." "I just don't want you getting in trouble." "I won't. I told them I was sick, and they believed me. And since today is Friday, I won't have to worry about going in tomorrow. It'll be fine." "Okay." I smiled. "Good. You hungry?" "Yes." "Okay, love, let me just use the bathroom, and then I'll go downstairs and make pancakes." After quickly washing up, I went downstairs and began breakfast. Alex soon came down, and watched as I showed off my newly developed cooking skills. As I flipped the pancakes onto plates, he said, "You know, it is lunchtime. We could have eaten sandwiches." "But it's our first time together, and we slept at my house. That means it's my God-given right to make you pancakes when we wake up." He rolled his eyes. As we sat at the kitchen table to eat, he looked at me curiously. "What?" I asked. "Well, you said that this was our first time. Does that mean they'll be other times?" "If I have anything to do with it." He smiled, and poured syrup onto his pancakes. <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> After we finished eating we decided to enjoy the beautiful morning, and took our coffee out onto the porch. We sat on the porch swing and watched the birds flutter about. we chatted a bit, but after awhile I noticed that Alex had grown awful quiet. I asked him what was wrong. He turned to me, and smiled sadly. "I don't want to go back." "Why not?" I held my breath, hoping the answer would be the one I wanted. "Because I don't want to be thousands of miles away from you. I'm... I'm sorry. I know I can't stay." "Why not?" "Because...I don't know. Because it's too soon." I snorted. "Alex, we've been wanting each other for *years*. It's not like we just met. Besides..." "What?" "I... I don't want you to go, either. When I said my life wasn't perfect, that I wasn't really happy, it was because I was longing for you. I want you to stay, but I thought you might be offended by my asking." He smiled. "Never, Fox. Never. I love you, and I'd really love to move here." "Not just here. With me. I want you to move in with me." "God... yes. A thousand times yes." I leaned forward and we kissed. But we were soon interrupted by shrill voice. "Oh my God!" I turned to see Rowan with her mouth hanging open, accompanied by Alexandra looking smug, and Leah looking embarrassed. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Speechless, I bit my lip and stared at them as they stood on the other side of the fence. Alex saved me by calling out, "Hello, girls." Alexandra managed to say hello back, through a fit of giggles. Leah and Rowan waved hesitantly. By that point I had regained my voice. "What are you girls doing here?" "Well you were sick so the newspaper meeting got canceled and the sub wouldn't let us hang around in the classroom..." Rowan stammered. Alexandra finished her sentence. "So, we decided to go to Rowan's house for lunch. We thought we'd stop here on the way, to see how you're feeling. Obviously, you're feeling *very* well." I blushed, and Leah smacked her arm. Alex laughed. "Now that we know the real reason you're 'home sick', we'll be on our way. Have fun." Leah and Rowan stared at Alexandra like she'd gone insane. She smiled, and pulled them down the street and around the corner. That's when Alex and I heard- "I WAS RIGHT! Admit it Rowan. I was right I was right I was riiiiggghhhttt! I'm always right." "SHUT *UP*!" "You owe me ten bucks." "I do not." "Yes you do. She was right, and you said that if she was right..." The voices gradually faded away, and Alex turned to me. "Did they know that we could hear them?" I sighed. "No. They don't realize how loud they are. Sometimes when they get together and sit on Rowan's porch, I can hear them talking. And Rowan lives two blocks from here." "Jeeze. What's with the bet thing?" "As far as I can tell, Alexandra thought I was gay, and Rowan thought I was in love with Scully despite the fact that she's dead. When you came in yesterday and we hugged, Alexandra took it as proof that I was gay and in love with you, Rowan wouldn't believe her. They must've bet money on it." Alex cracked up. "I can't believe your students are betting money on your sexuality!" I frowned. "Those three are getting extra homework." "Do you think they'll spread it around the school?" "No. They can keep their mouths shut. But it won't matter. I think they neighbors are going to notice that a man's moved into my house, and *they'll* spread it around. That nasty old Mrs. McNilery is *such* a gossip..." "Will it affect your job?" I thought about it for a moment. "No, I don't think so. And if it does I can get a new job. You're more important to me." Alex blushed, and I kissed him. "I love you, Alex." "I love you too, Fox." <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Epilogue <>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<> Now, Alex and I have been together for a little more than month. It feels like forever. He left a week ago to go back to his cabin and pack his things up. He's driving the moving truck back, and should be home any minute now. All I want to do is drag him into bed for a few hours, but I can't. A few of my students heard of the move, and immediately volunteered to help. They're sitting on my rug now, watching television and waiting for the truck to roll up. I appreciate that they want to help, but I don't know if I want Tony moving Alex's breakables... I'm very proud of the way they, and the rest of the school, took to news of my relationship. It was made clear that my job would not be affected. And everyone said that their perception of me wouldn't change, either. But I think everyone is looking at me a bit differently because they're not used to me being so happy. It's wonderful to live in an age where everyone is so accepting. After the war, I think everyone realized how precious *all* human life is, despite race or sexual preference, or anything else that used to divide us. I hear a key in the door, and race to it. My Alex is home, and he's staying for good. Life is perfect. The End So, anyone interested in seeing more in this universe? And is there anyone who'd like to take a try at writing things from Alex's perspective? I want to see that, but I don't have time to do it myself. Email me if you're interested. Feedback to: krycekluvsmulder@hotmail.com More fiction at: A.S.S. Araxdelan's Slash Site- http://araxdelan.tripod.com