Title: Twilight 
Author: David Hearne 
Send comments to ottercrk@sover.net
Rating: PG
Classification: S
Disclaimer: Again, this is pure Chris Carter by-product. And, having quoted
Pete Townshend and Leonard Cohen beforehand, I decided to rip poor Robbie
Robertson off. (The version of "Twilight" that I'm thinking of here is a
very nice version done by Shawn Colvin.)
Spoilers: Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose, The Pilot, Tithonus, FTF, Never
Again

Summary: A completion of a trilogy that includes "Misunderstood" and "Tower of Song." 
(Ah, trilogies. Thank you, Tolkein, for the concept that has killed many a tree.) In this final 
part, a funeral is held.

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There was no reason for her to die before him. She had been a little younger and
women tended to have longer life spans. The damage done by her abduction had been
cured a long time ago. She had been a very healthy woman for her age.

She was dead, nevertheless. One night, as she slept, her heart just stopped. It
couldn't have been more painless.

Fox Mulder became a very quiet man.

The family and friends of Dana Scully paid close attention to him, spoke gently,
tried to get a response that went on for more than two sentences. He would only
smile at them, thank them for their kindness and leave them to stand next to a
window.

He was even less talkative with the reporters who were organizing retrospectives
on one of the most important figures of the Colonization War. He only gave out
one response which the media discreetly ignored. A journalist had asked "What are
your feelings right now?" Mulder told the reporter to turn around so he could ram
his cane up his ass. "That would give you a nice approximation," Mulder
explained.

He barely said anything during the service. Mostly, he sat in the front row and
listened to the hymns and eulogies.

There were three eulogies. Reverend Hau of the Elians told how a red-haired
earthling had converted him to her faith through the sheer expression of her love
and committment. President Melvin Frohike described the courageous Dana Scully he
had known. You mean, the hot Dana Scully, Mulder growled inside. It took some
restraint on his part not to stand up and tell the congregation of the creepy
little subversive who had turned into a smarmy politician.

Still, he remained silent.

Then Ahleen Scully delivered the last eulogy. The fourteen-year-old girl with the
silver hair went up to the podium. Like everyone else, Mulder had to resist a
sigh as the blindingly lovely girl looked calmly out at them. Next to him, Emily
squeezed his hand and swallowed.

"Reverend Hau and President Frohike have spoken well of my grandmother's
character. Their descriptions of my mother's virtues---her courage, her strength,
her compassion---are all accurate. Yet it is also incomplete. Too often, we learn
that our heroes have committed unbelievable acts of stupidity and cruelty. Their
goodness often walks alongside a dark side. While my grandmother did nothing
evil, she was far from perfect."

Mulder frowned. Where was Ahleen going with this?

"She was a very stubborn woman. It is one thing to hold onto your beliefs. It is
another thing to use the language of rationalism and anaylsis to push aside what
your heart is calling evident. My grandmother had a deeply-ingrained notion of
how the universe was ordered. She ran away from anything that could shatter those
notions, ran and ran until she fell down and reality pounced on her."

People were starting to squirm as that firm young voice continued. No one was
feeling more uncomfortable than Mulder.

"She was a deeply passionaite woman in denial of her passions. Some of this could
be attributed to her need not to be seen as 'merely feminine' and soft. However,
she was also afraid of the inherent messiness of life. This could lead her to be
aloof towards others and self-controlled to the point of cracking. And,
sometimes, she did crack. While she rebelled against those who would control her,
she would often submit for the sheer narcissistic pleasure. There is an incident
with a tattoo that I won't go into."

There were a few nervous laughs. Mulder looked at Emily, his eyes asking what the
hell was her daughter up to. Emily looked back, her eyes asking him to wait and
listen.

"Above all, Dana Scully was afraid of death. And she was morbidly attracted to
it. She was as terrified of its mysteries as she was intrigued by its unambiguous
finality. Life itself was too hard for her. All of this could have made her a
loner. If she hadn't conquered her own inner struggle, she might not have been
able to help this planet win the Colonization War. She certainly would have spent
her final days alone, admired by many but close to very few."

Ahleen looked down at Mulder. In her distant gaze, a sign of warmth appeared.

"That's why I wish to acknowledge the man who guided Dana Scully away from her
darkness. He is a man who wrestled with the fear in his soul more openly than my
grandmother. He would say that it was her who healed him. It's time that he knew
what he did for her."

Mulder never felt so old right then, so weak. He wanted to hear this but he
didn't know if he could take it.

"Fox Mulder...you taught her not to be afraid. You taught her that faith was not
a weakness. You taught her that she could do more with the world than just get it
in order. Justice and love were no longer puzzling abstracts for her. They became
real and tangible. You once told her that death only comes for us when we seek
its opposite. My grandmother had been hesistant to go out and seek until she met
you. When death finally came for her, I know that she had no regrets.

"But, perhaps, there was one regret. You also told her that she made you whole.
Mister Mulder, you did the same thing for her, but I don't think she ever told
you.

"Thank you for doing that, Mulder. She was proud to have known you. So am I."

Ahleen then stepped down from the podium and embraced the old man with a strength
that could have carried him away.

Mulder was quiet.

Then he was sitting alone in the church.

The coffin had been taken away. There would be a private burial later. Mulder
wondered if he would go to that. Emily and Ahleen would be disappointed if he
didn't, but he just couldn't...

God. He had completed her. That couldn't be.

Mulder had regarded himself as a lot of things. He had thought of himself as a
one-man truth brigade. He had seen himself as a man trying to hold together a
collapsing world. He had self-ordained himself as a crusader in his own personal
holy war.

He had never really seen himself as good.

When the final assessment was made of the Colonization War, Dana Scully would be
seen as a brave spirit. Mulder would be seen merely as the kind of personality
needed for the situation. He was the guy obsessive enough and demented enough to
devote himself to a truth that was beyond the acceptance of reason. The right
asshole for a very wrong time.

Those quiet blue eyes of Ahleen were simply seeing something that wasn't there.

"Mulder?"

He looked up and saw an angel.

That was his initial impression and he hated himself for it. The decor of the
church was influencing him. His reaction also had something to do with a handsome
face that age couldn't touch, beautiful silver hair and an expression that was
always understanding and caring.

You see? Mulder thought. I'm not a good guy. Here is this great, kind
man...sorry, humanoid. And I hate him for just being a fine husband for Scully.

"Mind if I sit down?" Wednav asked.

Mulder said nothing, but moved to the side. Wednav sat down on the pew.

The two men were silent to each other for a long time. Mulder looked at that
patient expression on Wednav as the alien kept his eyes on the bronze cross up
front. He knew that Wednav could wait all year if he had to. So...

"It was a nice service."

"I particularly liked Ahleen's eulogy," Wednav replied.

Don't start, Mulder thought. Don't pretend that we can ever be friends. Don't act
as if I could ever see you as anything more than the man I couldn't be for her.
Don't.

Wednav kept still and silent, always watching the cross.

"I guess that's a miss, Clyde," Mulder found himself blurting out.

"Excuse me?"

Mulder closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to get started on this, but
the words came out anyway. "There was a case where we...Scully and I...we got
involved with a psychic who could predict how people could die. Of course, Scully
was doubtful."

"I would have been, too. For different reasons, though. Even though it's a common
aspect of the religions here, no spiritual belief on my world holds with the idea
of prophecy. It's even considered blasphemous in some...I'm sorry, Mulder. Please
continue."

"Well, there's not much to tell. It's just that...he, uh...he told Scully that
she wouldn't die."

Wednav slowly turned his head towards Mulder.

"Scully asked him how she would die. You know, she just couldn't resist it. She
asked and he said, 'You don't.' I'm not sure what the hell he meant, but he
obviously didn't mean...I don't know...I don't care."

Wednav made no motion or sound for a long time, his face thoughtful. Finally, he
reached into a pocket of his robe. He pulled out a round glass vial. It contained
a blue liquid.

"What's that?" Mulder asked.

"Among my race, there is a tradition called Gloada Pon. It means The Dream of
Loved Ones. We can take the memories, the feelings, the deepest secrets of a
person and...well, copy them into this form. If you drink it, then you will have
a vision of someone you lost."

"Everybody lets their memories get copied into that?"

"They do it if they think someone else will need it."

Mulder looked at that vial, not even daring to ask where it came from.

Then Wednav took Mulder's hand, gently spread it open, placed the vial in it and
closed those wrinkled fingers around it.

"You should have this."

Mulder gave Wednav a harsh look. "Don't pity me. Don't give me something like
this out of..."

"I'm giving it to you because it belongs to you."

"Just take it back, okay? You were her husband. You're entitled to it."

"Yes, I was her husband, Mulder. She was my love, my Yahem. But I was never as
close to her as you were."

Mulder could only watch as Wednav stood up. The alien squeezed his shoulder and
said, "You may envy me, Mulder. But I envy you even more."

Wednav walked out of the church.

Mulder sat on the pew.

He sat on his living room couch.

He stared at the vial on his coffee table.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then, after the clock had reached midnight,  he finally said, "The hell with it"
and drank the vial's contents.

Agent Fox Mulder sat in his office, examining his photo slides and planning ways
of making his partner miserable.

He had done a background check on her. Her history had snazzy credentials in
science as well as a lot of promise for a flourishing career in the Federal
Bureau of Investigations. Undoubtedly, she was looking forward to her assignment
with 'Spooky' Mulder with the same eagerness that the Polish used to greet
Hitler. She would do her best to smash his little pet project into the dirt, just
to get it out of her way.

Well, en garde.

And there was a knocking at the door. Best to start it on the right foot...

"Sorry, nobody here except the FBI's Most Unwanted!"

He listened to her heels as she stepped inside. He would wait just a few moments
before he turned.

When he finally looked, he was even more amused. A very cute chick had been
partnered with him. Maybe they thought a little nooky would distract him from his
lunancy. He was also entertained by the uncertainty with which she regarded his
chaotic basement office.

Then she put on her best professional smile and walked over to him, hand
outstretched. "Agent Mulder? Hello, I'm Agent Dana Scully. I've been assigned to
work with you."

His hand reached up to hers. "Well, isn't it nice to be..."

She jumped onto him, one-hundred-and-twenty pounds of woman right in his lap.
Mulder's yelp was smothered as her mouth covered his lips and her red hair spread
over his face. For a few moments, he was conscious of nothing else except the
warmth of her mouth and the irresistible way that her tongue caressed against
his.

Then she pulled away, still kneeling on his lap. With a fairly sinister smile on
her face, she tossed her purse to the floor and pushed at the table next to them.
The office chair rolled up against Mulder's desk. With one scythe-like gesture,
her arm cleared the desk of every last file, pencil and paperclip. She smoothly
lifted herself up off him and laid down on the desk.

"Ready when you are, G-man."

At first, Mulder looked like some shocked virginal nun. "Agent Scully, what the
hell are you..."

Then he looked around him in slow realization. As he did, Scully took him by the
tie and pulled his head down to kiss him on the cheek.

"This isn't what happened," he said.

"No. It's just what should have happened."

He finally turned his eyes down towards her. She kissed him on the mouth again
and again as he stared at her.

Then he sighed and closed his eyes.

"Mulder, what is it?"

"This isn't real. It's just a drug-induced fantasy."

"It's nothing of the sort."

"No. It's only my erotic fantasy pumped up into some..."

Scully sat up, her hands crossing behind his neck. There was no impatience in her
expression. She smiled as if she knew that he would understand. "It's our erotic
fantasy, not just yours. I was in that vial. My feelings, my dreams, my desires.
They're in you now. I'm with you."

Mulder started to say something, then stopped himself. He tried again and failed
the second time. Finally, it came out in a whisper.

"But...you're dead..."

"No. I'm not."

Her hands went down his back and she drew him against her body, pressing his face
under her breasts. "This is not about living in the past. It's about what we want
to do right here, right now."

Mulder let out a long breath. Scully said, "A little mood music please" and he
could a woman singing with only a guitar playing.

...Over by the wildwood...
...Hot summer night...
...We lay in the tall grass...
...till the mornin' light...

Mulder held his arms around Scully. She stroked the back of his hair.

...Never gave a second thought...
...Never crossed my mind...
...What's right and what's not...
...I'm not the judgin' kind...

She was so soft. He could hear the beating of her heart.

...I could take the darkness...
...the storms in the sky...

The lights began to dim.

...but we all got certain trials...
...burning up inside...

Mulder was no longer quiet.

...Don't put me in a frame on the mantel...
...'Fore memories turn dusty old and grey...

He was crying.

...Don't leave me alone in the twilight...
...Twilight is the loneliest part of the day...

The lights went out.