From: madellaine Date: Sat, 31 Jul 1999 00:13:15 GMT Subject: "Last Ditch" [1/1] Title: "Last Ditch" Author: Madellaine Paxson Archive: Please ask. Rating: NC-17 for language and sexual situations Classification: Humor, S/K, a little MSR Timeline: Post-colonization, post- everything. Spoilers: Pretty much everything. Summary: A humorous homage to "Bridges of Madison County." Disclaimer: All characters owned by Chris Carter/1013, I'm not making a penny off of anything, I swear. All grammar, spelling and punctuation errors are deliberate. "Last Ditch" The alarm rang promptly at 5 am. Scully groaned softly. Not today, she thought to herself, not today... But she knew she would have to get up before too long. Cows didn't milk themselves. And with Mulder gone for a week, she would have to do all the work on the farm herself. Mulder. Funny how she still thought of him that way. She had long since stopped calling him anything but "honey" or "sweetie." In the first days, they had tried calling each other "Fox" and "Dana." Something about it didn't seem quite right... but their old, familiar, professional names for each other didn't fit with their new lives, either. Over time they just defaulted to "honey." Sometimes "sweetie." Scully sighed and hauled herself out of bed, promising to let herself nap later if she got all her chores done. She padded to the dimly lit bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Early to bed, early to rise certainly never made a woman pretty, she thought dryly. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Her skin was blotchy. And her hair... she made a mental note to make an appointment at the Hairtique before too long. The gray was starting to creep back in and make her look even more haggard. Not that it mattered, way out here in the country. Nobody to care about your gray hair except cows and pigs. As she went about her chores, milking cows, plucking beans, slopping pigs, her thoughts strayed to her husband. She smiled when she thought back to their first real kiss. It was after the liberation. After they'd saved the world from the aliens. The whole planet was happy, jubilant, eager to start over. During the resulting world celebration, in the middle of the fireworks show, Mulder kissed her. He'd grabbed her like that sailor in the Life magazine photo and dipped her into a passionate embrace. She'd waited years for that kiss. Was it a disappointment? She wasn't sure. Seemed good at the time. Mulder purchased a bed, and they slept in it. He was okay in the sack. Maybe it wasn't the fireworks she'd hoped for in the 10 long years she'd fantasized about it, but hey, that's life, right? Besides, she knew he adored her, in his own Mulder way. Wasn't that what was important? ------------------------- Scully was in the air conditioned comfort of the kitchen now, squeezing the limes. She made the best damn limeade in the tri-county area. That's what Mulder said, anyway. He gulped down gallons of the stuff, until his undershirt was wet and sticky from spilling it on himself. Then he'd burp loud and long, patting his stomach with a satisfied smile. He burped a lot lately. Scully chuckled. What an adorable habit. She never wondered what her life would've been like had she said no to Mulder's proposal. What was the point in that? Besides, it wasn't as if she had any other offers. It was pretty much Mulder or nothing, and she wasn't getting any younger. He looked so happy that day, with the ring in one hand and the deed to the farm in the other. The love farm, he called it. They'd escape their horrible city lives, get away from it all in the country. There was nothing left for them in DC anyway, he said. Skinner had retired. The world was saved. Samantha had been found living in Hoboken with a husband and five kids. As far as the X-files went, well, once you'd seen one monster... So Scully said yes. The ceremony was small, with only their closest friends and any family members that hadn't been murdered in attendance. She wore an honest to goodness wedding dress, much to her mother's relief. And Mulder looked so dapper in his tux. It was the happiest day of her life. Wasn't it? ----------------------------- It was dark now, as Scully poured her fresh-squeezed limeade into a cut glass wine goblet and took a delicate sip. Mulder was right. Her limeade was the best. He made fun of her when she broke out the good crystal for something as mundane as limeade, but it made her happy. Suddenly, she felt something cold and hard press against her temple. Don't move, said someone. There was a man in her kitchen, holding a gun to her head. A terrifying, thrilling sensation shot down her spine and straight to her crotch. Just like the good old days. She turned her head slowly to meet the man's gaze. Both pairs of eyes widened with recognition. Scully? She half-smiled. Krycek? They hugged like long lost friends. He shook his head in disbelief, what are you doing here, out in bum fuck? She shrugged and told him the whole story, then offered him a glass of limeade. They sat and laughed, shared a cigarette and talked of old times. Scully listened with empathy as Alex recounted to her his tales of espionage and assassination. After the aliens were driven away and the Consortium destroyed, there just wasn't any work available. The bottom dropped out of the assassin biz back in '05. He'd had to turn to petty theft just to get by. Scully offered to let him take their television, she couldn't stand the damn thing anyway, but Alex politely refused. He'd done enough to Mulder, and taking away his television would probably be the final insult. Scully told him to be quiet about that. It was water under the bridge. The world was a different place now, they were different people. Alex patted his glock and sighed sadly. He'd planned to rule the world one day, and look at him now! Stealing stereos and satellite dishes! Scully slapped him lightly on the arm. Don't be ridiculous, you're still a force of terror to be reckoned with, she assured him. He smiled, pleased that she thought so. Scully studied his face. His career may have gone nowhere, but he still looked sexy as ever. His wrinkles and the flecks of gray in his hair made him look even more dangerous. She was suddenly painfully self-conscious. Why hadn't she made that appointment at the Hairtique earlier today? Just the slothful mediocrity that was being married, she supposed. But Alex didn't seem to mind. His eyes danced as talked about the good old days. He didn't mention Melissa. It was just as well. It was a long time ago, after all. Alex gestured with his good hand, amazed that she and Mulder had moved to the country. He'd never pegged either of them as hayseeds. Scully sighed. She supposed none of their lives had turned out quite the way they had anticipated. Alex pulled off his leather jacket, woefully out of place in the summer, and Scully gaped at his prosthesis. It looked so real! He smiled and grabbed three limes, juggling them with ease. Scully was duly impressed with the prosthetic advances that had taken place in the last several years. He was practically a two-limbed individual now. He caught the three limes in the false hand with a flourish, and bowed as Scully applauded. Oh Alex, she laughed, you're such a card. They looked at each other silently for a beat, until Alex started to stand up. I should go, he said. Something pulled at Scully's heart. She couldn't bear to let him leave. Sit, she told him, I was just about to make dinner. Do you like meatloaf? His eyes lit up. He didn't get too many home cooked meals. Alex chopped up vegetables for a salad as Scully slid the pan of meat into the oven. Then she slipped away to the bedroom, telling him she was going to take a shower before dinner. She quickly showered, shaved her legs, and pulled on her prettiest sundress. It had been a while since she'd worn it, but thankfully it still fit. She applied just enough makeup to look presentable, but not so much that she looked cheap. Her hair, she decided, wasn't that bad. Not in the dark, anyway. It was mainly her ass she needed to worry about. Maybe it would look okay in the dark, too. When she reappeared in the kitchen, she found the lights had been dimmed, the table completely set, candles ablaze, white wine twinkling in her cut glass goblets. Mozart rang out from the living room CD player. Alex smiled sheepishly. I hope you don't mind, he told her, I thought it would be nice. Scully smiled. She didn't mind at all. After dinner they sat on the living room sofa, sipping wine in the dark. Scully felt warm and giddy. Alex took her wine glass away from her and set it on the coffee table, then grabbed her up in a passionate kiss. That same thrilling jolt she'd felt when he'd put a gun to her head shot through her again. This was what kissing was supposed to feel like! Alex slipped a knife out of his boot and made short work of her dress, chopping it into itty bitty pieces. That's so you can't ever wear it for "him" again, he told her. She smiled, knowing "he" wouldn't have noticed if she'd put on a clown suit. Four orgasms later, Scully was glad Alex Krycek had come to rob her house that day. ------------------------ They spent the rest of the week pretty much just fucking. Alex helped her with the chores so they'd get done sooner, thus more fucking. They fucked in the kitchen, they fucked in the barn. They tried to fuck in the tub, but both of them were a bit too old to find that very comfortable. Scully might have felt guilty about fucking Krycek, if she hadn't been busy climaxing all the time. Sometimes in the evenings they would curl up on the sofa together and listen to music. Once Alex popped in an old Beach Boys CD. Scully's eyes almost filled with tears when the first strains of "Wouldn't it be Nice" played. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new, And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through..." Scully closed her eyes and remembered. She remembered her times working as Mulder's partner, looking across the desk at him, dying of love. She wasn't sure he'd ever notice her. She thought if only he'd kiss her, just once, she could die happy. "Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true. And baby then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do. We could be married... Then we'd be happy..." She'd gotten her wish. He'd noticed her. It took him ten fucking years, but he'd finally noticed her. She'd gotten everything she wanted, hadn't she? Okay, so she and Mulder had their problems, like every other married couple. He had a habit of splitting when he got tired of farm life, using any flimsy excuse to get away, but she could hardly blame him. And maybe his affectionate nickname for her, "fat ass," hurt her feelings a little. And their sex life was somewhat bland, despite Mulder's predilection for exotic porn... but that was life, right? This was reality. Wasn't she living the American Dream? -------------------------- Scully and Krycek fucked in the pasture as the cows looked on, bored. Later, as they lay there, basking in afterglow, Alex made mooing sounds at the cows, sending Scully into paroxysms of laughter. The cows' mournful, bored expressions never changed. Kind of like Mulder. Then came the words Scully was terrified to hear. Come away with me, Alex begged. She buried her face in her hands. She couldn't leave. She couldn't abandon Mulder, the man who'd been her whole life for so long. Alex was a wandering nomad, with no steady income. How could she leave Mulder for that? They'd built this farm together. They'd built this life together. And it was everything she'd ever dreamed of. Wasn't it? ---------------------- Scully took one last drag from her cigarette and flicked it into the stream of gasoline leading up to her front door. She watched as the butt ignited the fuel. Watched as the flames raced with alarming rapidity to the house. Watched as the house became completely engulfed in flames, lighting up the night sky with its awesome fury. She hiked up her gingham dress and straddled the motorcycle behind Alex, wrapping her arms around him tightly. You ready, he asked. She didn't bother to take one last look at the house. She tried not to think about how Mulder would react when he came home and found the house reduced to ashes. She just nodded. Alex gripped the throttle and off they sped into the night, kicking up a cloud of dry dust in their wake. She'd left him a note, just so he wouldn't think she'd burned up in the fire. It was impaled to the barn with a butcher knife. All it said was: Don't bother looking for me. Love, Fat Ass.