The Four Corners Cycle
Book Three - Terminus
Chapter Four
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Late Evening 
Riverbend Estate 

On the rocky shore of the river they've constructed a platform from pine saplings. They've bathed Stephen's body and wrapped it in a white sheet. It lies on the platform, cushioned with firewood, waiting to be transformed.

The river rushes. There is a steady breeze. The moon lights their endeavor, casting long shadows.

Dana looks around at the assembly. The estate residents number just over a dozen: Elise and her two daughters, several young men and women, a few children.

She does not see a single white beard in their midst.

There's something of a festival atmosphere by the river. No one knew the man on the bier, but everyone has come to observe his passing.

The people seem to be enjoying this break from the routine, but Dana can sense that the gathering is more than a simple diversion. The children stand in a row, holding onto each other and staring at the bier. Adults kneel down and speak to them gently. Even though the dead man is a stranger, they're taking advantage of this chance to pass on their beliefs, this chance to teach the children about their view of death.

One of the young men sits near the bier with an old wooden drum between his knees. He beats it in a steady, hypnotic rhythm, eyes blissfully closed.

Dana realizes that it is the ceremony itself that is affirming, needed, and welcomed. She tries to relax, to open herself, suspecting that she might need this ritual, too.

Mulder is busy with a smoldering bundle of sage. Cupping his palm, he waves smoke over Elise, beginning somewhere near her feet and slowly ascending, until the smoke curls around her head. She turns, and he repeats the ritual, beginning at her head and moving down her back. When she turns back to face him, her normally acerbic expression has been replaced by a look of quietude.

Elise's daughter, Nina, steps forward. The girl smiles serenely and stretches her arms toward Mulder, gazing at him reverently as he works. When he's done, she embraces him, impulsively, kissing him on the cheek.

Over the last several minutes, Dana has watched Mulder repeat this process with almost everyone in attendance. His movements are graceful and deliberate, and his face is flushed with rapture. This is something he's done many times before. He is clearly in his element.

Until this moment, Dana has had no real understanding of Mulder's new life, or of the person he has become. Watching him now, she finds it easy to connect the man she knew before and the man working with the people around her.

It's the most natural progression imaginable, she thinks. This is what he's always been.

Ben stands next to Nina. He lowers his shoulders and inhales as the smoke circles his body. Then he folds his hands, half-seriously, in an attitude of prayer. He gives a mocking little bow. Mulder grins.

Mulder pauses in front of Dana. For a moment she's afraid to meet his gaze, but then she forces herself to look at him, her heart in her mouth.

Her eyes tell him yes. His face glows. He smiles.

He purifies her body with consummate care, each movement slow and rich. Imitating the others, she turns her back to him, breathing deeply of the pungent smoke, feeling her spirit ignite.

She turns back toward him, electrified, tears springing unbidden to her eyes. Awed, Mulder watches her for a long, long moment.

Then he turns and goes back to his work.

He approaches the corpse and begins sprinkling some sort of powder in a long line up the center of the body, pausing to toss some of it into the wind. Suddenly, he stops, staring down at the body.

A rattlesnake is coiled, inexplicably, in the middle of Stephen's chest, the customary warning sound made by its tail lost in the noise of the river.

Kaya springs up from her seat near the rock and runs toward her father; Elise stops her, taking her by the arm.

The snake raises its head; it opens its mouth, long fangs glinting in the moonlight. Mulder watches it, immobile, an eerie smile lighting his face.

He reaches down and picks the snake up.

There is a collective gasp from the assembly, a collective surge forward, a collective repression of collective alarm. Mulder remains deadly calm, lifting the snake up until he can look it in the eye. Rattler and man regard each other, the snake's open mouth hanging inches from Mulder's nose.

Dana is afraid to breathe.

Mulder lowers the snake and sets it gently on the ground. It slithers off into the tinder that is piled up under the bier.

The tinder bursts into flames.

A sigh passes through the group of onlookers; Kaya falls into Elise's arms.

Dana stares with amazement at the burgeoning fire. She falls to her knees, hands pressed to her belly.

The things of this world *exist*, she thinks. They *are*. I can't refuse them.

She looks up at the shaman, the man they call Will, standing before the blazing funeral pyre. His lips are moving, singing something, something she cannot hear.

Dana feels herself shattering into a hundred pieces.

The baby was a girl, she thinks.

And Mulder and I were her parents.

~~~~

Dana lies awake on a hard, musty bed in a small, stuffy room on the top floor of the estate. Kaya lies on the other side of the bed, snoring softly. She has been freed from the traumas of the day.

Dana hasn't been so lucky.

She thinks about the hoary visitor, whose sometime presence she has not discussed with anyone.

She sees Mulder's face as it was when he rose from his blanket by the riverside just after sunset: the preternatural flush; the look of transcendence that didn't leave his face until Stephen's body was reduced to ashes.

She remembers the sudden appearance of the snake; shudders at the image of its impossibly small eyes staring into Mulder's like the two of them were long- lost comrades.

She wonders at the fire that kindled itself.

There are other images in her head now, too. She accepts their presence with a heavy heart but refuses to entertain them.

She watches Kaya breathe as she sleeps. Why am I here, she asks herself. Why won't they let me near him?

Earlier, as the funeral fire was dying, Elise had hustled them off to their rooms like a bunch of unruly children. Mulder had stayed behind, waiting, Elise said. Waiting for who knows what.

Dana had asked to remain; if only to be near him, but Elise had said it wouldn't be right.

So many formalities. So much ritual.

They don't realize how much Dana needs him tonight.

Dana rises impatiently from the bed and goes to the window, which looks out over the patio. She's hoping for a breeze.

This was probably a guest room, a long time ago, she thinks. It has a nice view of the tennis court.

She can see the embers of the cooking fire glowing near the silhouette of the gazebo.

He is sitting by the fire, solitary, lost in thought.

The house is quiet. The moon dips low in the sky.

Fuck Elise and her formalities and rituals. Dana knows what she has to do.

~~~~

He looks up as she sits down next to him, a brief smile lighting his features.

"Scully, shouldn't you be sleeping?"

For a second he's just like the Mulder she used to know.

"I could say the same to you. I probably should."

He runs his hand through his hair, leaving chaos in its wake. The headband is missing tonight, and he is dressed simply in a pair of cotton drawstring pants and a thin t-shirt.

"Yeah, I'm tired." He stares into the embers. "And tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"What do you mean?"

His lips draw together as he considers his next words. "Stephen was just a soldier. He didn't know much, but he knew enough. There's no Resistance, Scully. It was a lie. All they wanted was to get their hands on one of my sons."

"Mulder, why?"

Mulder presses his palms together and watches the remains of the fire over his fingertips. "Stephen didn't know why."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Dana allows her hand to find his knee.

"Mulder, I want to go with you."

He covers her hand with his own, nodding. Dana draws a long, deep breath.

It's now or never.

"Our daughter had lots of dark brown hair," she says softly.

His hand tightens on hers.

"Her eyes were wide open when she was born. She looked up at their faces when they were cutting the cord..."

A faint moan drifts from somewhere inside him. He closes his eyes.

"They didn't let me hold her, but I think she was very small. Six pounds, maybe."

"Scully."

"Yeah?"

"I've always loved you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes."

He turns towards her, his face taut and troubled. "I can't be here with you tonight. We can't talk about this tonight."

"Why not?" she asks, tremulously, twining her fingers with his. His hand is warm.

She needs him now.

"Because of what we did tonight. The veil between the worlds is thin. I have to keep watch."

He brushes his fingers across her cheek, sadly, wistfully. "It's what everyone's expecting, Scully. It's what they need."

"Formalities and rituals."

"In a way. I like to think of it as keeping things in balance."

Dana reaches up and takes his other hand, holding it tightly.

"Mulder, I remembered her. I did it by myself. You didn't have to lead me."

"I knew you would, Scully."

"I need you to help me find the rest. I want to remember everything."

"I'll help you, Scully. It can't be tonight, though. I have to be alone tonight."

"Who knows what's going to happen tomorrow? I don't want to wait another minute. I can't."

His face is full of anguish, careworn and exhausted.

"I know you have to make choices sometimes, Mulder," Dana whispers fiercely. "Because somehow I don't fit in with all this, but Mulder, I need you to choose *me* right now. I need you. Please help me."

He cups his hands behind her head, moved by an emotion that Dana can't read: it could be worry, apprehension, even arousal is a possibility.

She prays that he's not feeling pity.

"I have a room on the second floor," he murmurs hoarsely. "We'll go there. I'll help you remember."

~~~~

Moon shadows spill across an antique four-poster bed, as delicate as a row of orchids. Dana looks out across the tree-tops towards the river, arms wrapped shoulder to shoulder, crossed over her chest. She squeezes tightly.

Just enough pressure to keep her heart from bursting.

Mulder occupies an armchair in a dark corner. His disembodied voice floats toward her through the darkness. "You've already remembered the worst part," he says, tenderly.

Her face springs to life: a faltering smile. "It's a memory with no history, Mulder. It doesn't have any more power than a bad dream."

"I understand. Do you want to give it a history, Scully?"

Pincer-fingers, white and bloodless, digging into her shoulders.

"Yes."

She hears a soft rustling as he leaves his chair, feels an overpowering warmth as he comes up behind her, pressing his body against her back, gently unwrapping her arms and lowering them to her sides.

He reaches around her body and she leans back into him. Brushing the hair back from her ear, he speaks to her in a voice that is almost noiseless, yet she hears him perfectly; she understands.

"You know where these memories can be found. Allow yourself to go there. I'm not going to lead you, because I want you to trust what you see. I don't want you to have any doubts."

"I trust you, Mulder...I want to see what you've seen."

"Listen, then. Do you remember asking me to be her father? Before we were together..."

She smiles. "When you said yes, I knew that a baby wasn't all I wanted from you. I just didn't know how to tell you, Mulder."

"But you did tell me, Scully. After I came home from England, remember?"

She relaxes back against him, enjoying the feel of his body. "Of course I remember that...how could I forget?"

"I didn't think you would. We were happy, weren't we?"

"God, yes. You were everything to me, Mulder."

"It wasn't all happy, though, Scully," his fingers smooth her cheek, her throat... "Before that night, the IVF..."

Cold walls. Cold table. Cold white sheets and feet locked in stirrups, vulnerable loins withering under the gaze of cold professionals...

Her turn is coming.

It's coming. It's coming.

Sharp intake of breath. Her body tenses. He pulls her closer; whispers in her ear.

"Let it come, Scully."

The speculum, opening the way for their instruments.

Welcoming him to her body for the very first time.

"Oh god."

Coming home to tell him the tiny life had perished.

"Mulder, oh my god..."

"Let it come, Scully. It's okay. It's good."

Tears. She sags against him. "I can't do this, Mulder..."

"You can...you have. Let's go somewhere easier. Remember that Saturday when you dragged me to the Air and Space Museum?"

She wipes tears away with the back of her hand and turns towards him, laying her face against his chest. "I wanted to go to Natural History," she gulps, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You wanted to do something 'normal'."

She nods, pressing against him. "Yeah. Not so much to ask."

"We went to my place and ordered pizza..."

Late afternoon. Exquisite kisses tasting like pepperoni and red wine. Mulder carrying her to bed. Both of them practically destroying their clothes because they could not shed them fast enough.

She'd never been so happy.

"We made her then, Scully," he whispers. "I'm sure of it."

Grief; like a steady wind. A river of tears rushing.

He holds her close and warm.

Dana chokes on the words. "I wish I knew what they did with her."

Silence.

"I can feel her, Scully."

Dana stiffens; pulls back a step. "You...you can feel..."

He is reluctant to let go. His arms stretch toward her. "Yes, I can."

"How?" she cries, backing away, wiping tears ferociously with both hands. "How do you feel these things when you feel them, Mulder? Is it something you see in your mind? Is it that specific? Or is it just a vague impression, something more visceral..."

As she backs away he follows her, never far out of contact, fingertips brushing her forearms.

Dana's voice rises. "Do you actually see her or is she just a dream you have? Can you even tell the difference?"

He catches her in his arms. "She's a dream, yes. A wish. But she's more. I can't explain it. All I know is, ever since I found out about her, I feel her, Scully."

He takes her hand and lays it in the center of his chest. "I feel her right here."

Dana's face is wet again. She looks up into his eyes. When she knew him before she always trusted his intuition. Why can't she trust it now that he lives it?

Her hand trembles against his chest. "You say she's here."

"For now, yes."

Dana bends down and presses her lips against the spot. She lingers there a long moment, fresh tears running down her face.

His heart drums gently against her lips.

Suddenly the thin cotton of his shirt seems more of a barrier than Dana can stand. *They* are there, pulsing inside him, both the man she lost and the child that was stolen. Before she knows what she is doing she finds herself tearing the shirt from his body. It lifts off effortlessly, in one smooth motion. She runs her lips across the salty expanse of warm, brown skin, returning to caress the spot where she first touched him.

He lifts her face and stares down at her. "I can't," he whispers.

She pulls his head down to hers.

Their kiss enfolds; it devours. It is sweet and devastating.

His breath is coming in short, labored gasps. "God, Scully, I can't do this tonight..."

"You're already doing it."

Formalities and rituals crumble to nothing. Desire runs amok in the halls of sagacity.

The balanced man loses his balance completely.

Mulder whisks Dana off her feet, carrying her towards the bed with swiftness and certainty.

Green eyes stare into blue.

Mulder, Dana thinks.

Mulder is here.

~~~~

He lays Dana on the bed and covers her body with his own, mouth roaming freely between her lips and her throat. She arches her back and thrusts toward him, wrapping her hands around the hard muscles of his ass and grinding herself against him.

She can almost taste the pepperoni and red wine.

Scant millimeters of cotton separate their bodies. His cock is iron; it rubs maddeningly against her swollen sex. His hands are rough and hot as they travel underneath her dress; they stroke her belly urgently as they push the offending fabric aside.

Dana reaches for the hem of the dress and quickly pulls it over her head; Mulder falls upon her breasts with a moan, fingertips circling, mouth warm and wet against her nipples. Dana heaves a quivering sigh, lost in the geometric motion of his lips and tongue.

All mine, she thinks, feeling herself opening; feeling her juices beginning to drip.

My man.

Mulder rises to a kneeling position. Grinning devilishly, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her white cotton panties, sliding them down her legs with a flourish. "Yeah," he murmurs appreciatively as he surveys her naked curves. "Beautiful."

Dana enjoys the wonder in his face, locking her gaze to his as he draws his hands slowly down her body. She whimpers as he brushes his palms across her nipples; moans as he drags a single finger down the length of her wet clitoris.

It's us, she thinks blissfully. The two of us. Oh, I remember this.

~~~~

Dana fumbles with the drawstring of his pants; he smiles, murmuring something about a design flaw. He unties the pants himself; she pushes the flimsy cotton away, eager to wrap her fingers around the stiff flesh it conceals.

Mulder stops her hand.

"I'm...god, I'm close already..." he gasps softly.

Dana guides him to her entrance. A long, slow thrill ripples through her body as the thick shaft slips inside her.

"Feel how much I love you, Scully?"

"Ahhhh...." she opens, spreads her legs apart for him, wrapping them around his thighs to pull him deeper.

He pulls back; teases her gently with the head of his cock, face blossoming in an expression of supreme rapture, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Rapid, shallow thrusts, the smooth shaft massaging her clit; needing him deeper, needing him harder; needing him all the way in...

"Mulder, please..."

Her voice doesn't sound like her own.

Suddenly he pulls all the way out.

"Oh god, no, Mulder..." she reaches for him but he is gone, traveling south with amazing speed. Before she knows it she feels his tongue sliding over her clit, streaming between the folds of her flesh...

Need, rising. Need, like a gathering storm.

She heaves and moans; she weeps and sighs.

His body glides over hers again. He lifts her legs and plunges inside her.

"Ohhhhhh..."

They sip each other, breathing together as he returns to deliberate, shallow thrusting.

"You're driving me insane," she murmurs, brushing her lips against his.

"Good."

He pulls out again, bends down to consume her, in earnest this time, spreading her legs wide and sucking the stiff point of flesh with gusto.

Dana can't speak anymore; Dana can't think; she writhes and wails as the spasms begin, need rising like floodwater from the depths of her body...

Burying his cock deep inside her, he moans his love for her, gasps his need for her...she stiffens around him, thrusts faster and faster...

He pours himself in an endless stream. She shudders and moans and welcomes him.

They carry each other home.

~~~~

Ecstasy: the soothing mist of sleep.

He cradles her slender form against the solid warmth of chest, belly and thigh, fingers tracing satin skin, face buried deeply in the luxury of her hair.

In night, all things are possible.

~~~~

Dana stirs at first light. She listens to the absolute stillness of dawn. Every day starts in silence, she thinks dreamily. It's been this way since the beginning of time.

He moves in his sleep, pulling her closer and sighing. His slumber is lush, like a nap in the sun on a spring afternoon.

The things of this world *exist*, she thinks. They *are*.

Thank god for that.

Dana's thoughts drift back to the previous night. She remembers the feel of his lips on her body, thrills when she thinks about the way he abandoned himself to her.

She understands. His need was as great as her own.

Wriggling gently, Dana disentangles herself and gets out of bed. She looks back at him, smiling at the boyish look his face takes on when he's sleeping.

He stirs, reaching for her. "Scully."

"I'm here."

"Where you going?"

He rolls onto his back, peering up at her through heavy eyelids, hair tousled in a dozen directions.

"I don't want to cause any trouble for you, Mulder. I think I should go back to my room."

"You're so damn practical, Scully."

His eyes close. Dana can tell he's not really awake.

"Mulder, you're exhausted and you're still getting over the effects of that plant. I want you to sleep now."

"Okay...twist my arm." He rolls back onto his side.

Dana slips into her clothes. As she starts for the door he speaks again.

"Scully, I have to tell you something."

She turns back toward the bed. Looking desperately sleepy, he has propped himself up on the pillow and is extending a hand in her direction.

"Mulder, you're supposed to be sleeping."

"I know."

"So can't it wait another hour?"

"I don't know when we'll be alone again. Come here."

She sits on the edge of the bed and he takes her hand. "Before...you know, when we went to Bellefleur, remember..."

"Of course I remember."

"Before that case came up I had planned to ask you something. Because of the situation I put it off and lost my chance.  I want to ask you now."

He falls silent, reaching up to brush his fingers across her cheek.

"Mulder, what?"

"I was dying, Scully."

A sudden, stabbing pain in her guts. "I know. We found out after you were gone."

"I didn't tell you because...god, I don't think I even know why. Things were so good between us. We'd waited so long to be together. I didn't want whatever time we had left to be painful or sad."

She takes his hand. "I understand."

"I thought...if I asked you...when I died, my life would still count for something. I would leave behind something important, something that really mattered..."

He pauses, fully awake now, and lifts himself onto his knees, taking her hand, face brimming with emotion.

"I was going to ask you to marry me, Scully."

Breath quick and shallow. A rush of tears.

"And I didn't get to ask you. But I'm asking you now."

She lays her hand against his cheek, speechless, eyes streaming.

"I know this whole world is a shock to you. Everything is ass-backwards, Scully, even me, believe me, I know. But this is one thing that hasn't changed. Will never change. My life is yours. It's our life, together, every minute from now on."

Dana tries to breathe, but she is overcome. He cups his hands around her face, kissing every wet, salty inch of it.

"Marry me, Scully," he murmurs fervently. "Marry me today."

End Book Three, Chapter Four