Disclaimer:  most of the characters were created by and belong to Chris
Carter, also Ten Thirteen, FOX, etc.  I mean no infringement.  No money has
been made during the writing or reading of this epic, and no agents were
harmed. Except for the usual injuries.

"I guess this means he's passing you the torch."
-Frohike, The Blessing Way

Carrying the Torch by ML

Part 2 of 2-this picks up right where Part 1 left off.
 

Lately when I really have had legitimate business in the basement, the office
door has been shut.  They've been out in the field more for longer periods of
time, it seems.  There had been a big kidnapping case in California, and the
agents were part of the detail sent out from Washington.  I'm not sure what
the X-Files angle was; maybe they just went out as a profiler and a
pathologist, since it turned out that there were serial killer overtones in
the case.  This was a case which attracted national attention, and Agent
Mulder even appeared on television once.  Even Skinner joined them for a
while, and stayed until the suspect was caught.  But Agents Mulder and Scully
stayed out in California even after all the other agents came back.  Then
Scully came back alone for a few days, and was gone again.  The rumors
floated back that he'd found his sister; he'd found Samantha.  More
accurately, he found out what had happened to her.

As it turns out, she *was* kidnapped, but not by aliens.  How or why this
happened, I don't know, but she died when she was still a young girl.  Agent
Mulder somehow found the proof out in California, proof even he seemed to be
satisfied with.  Agent Scully returned once again to the office and reported
to AD Skinner, then went back out to California once again.

They both stayed out in California for a long time after the case was closed.

Sometime after they returned from California, I started to notice a change in
the atmosphere in the basement.  The office door was open the next time I
went down to the archives.  As I passed his door, I could hear his voice.  I
think he was talking on the phone; I couldn't hear anyone's voice in reply.
He sounded different somehow.  I got the box I needed out of the archives and
as I passed his door again, I paused.  I couldn't hear what he was saying,
but there was a buoyant quality in his voice that I'd never heard before.
And then he laughed.

It was a low chuckle, and it seemed to tiptoe up my spine and rest against
the back of my head like a warm hand.  I think I was holding my breath.  I
guess all my motor skills took a holiday for a moment, because next thing I
knew, I felt the box I held slipping out of my nerveless fingers.

At that moment his door opened and he came charging out, almost colliding
with me.  I was in sort of a half crouch, trying to catch the edge of the box
before its contents tipped onto the floor.

I stood up quickly, feeling a bit lightheaded, and came face to face with Fox
Mulder.  Well, not quite face to face, since I'm only of average height, and
he's really tall.  I noticed I came up to about his shoulder.  I think it's
the closest I've ever been to him.

"I'm sorry," he said.  "Are you okay?"  He supported the bottom of the box as
I fumble for the handholds.

"I'm sorry," I muttered back.  "Lost my grip."  Now there's an
understatement.  Lost my grip not just on the box, but on reality itself.  I
clutched at the box as he steadied it for me.

"I'm not used to seeing anyone down here," he was saying easily.

I cleared my throat and tried to speak normally.  "I'm creating a database
for the old archives stored down here," I explained.

He whistled softly.  "Who did *you* piss off?"

I guess it did sound like a punishment.  I didn't tell him I volunteered for
it.  "It's not as bad as it sounds," I said a little defensively.  "And
someone has to do it."

"Well, I'm glad it's not me," he said.  "I'm Fox Mulder, by the way."

I almost said, "I know," but fortunately merely offered my name.

"Well, if you ever need something more to do, I've got plenty of files that
need work.  Though most of them were destroyed a couple of years ago, I seem
to have accumulated plenty since then."

Here was my golden opportunity to tell him what I'd done but I couldn't get
the words out.  <Coward> the little voice taunted.  Instead, I babbled, "If
AD Skinner gives the okay, I could--"

Agent Mulder laughed again.  "Yeah, that'll happen."  We were now standing by
the elevator, waiting.  He stabbed at the button again.  "It's not likely
Skinner would ever authorize any extra help on the X-Files."  He looked at
me.  "I'm sorry, can I carry that for you?"

I shook my head.  "It's not very heavy."

Without another word he gently pulled it away from me.  His fingers brushed
mine as they slipped into the handholds.

"Thank you."  I said a little breathlessly, trying not to blush.  The
elevator door opened, saving me.  "What floor?"  I asked him.

"I'm going to Skinner's office.  Is that where you're going?"

"No, just to two.  My work area is there."

The doors opened on the first floor to reveal Agent Scully.  Her eyes flicked
first to the box Agent Mulder carried, then to me.  She caught my eyes and
smiled non-commitally and turned to her partner.

"Mulder, are you on your way up to Skinner?"

He nodded.  "But I have to make a delivery first."

"You are going to be late.  Again,"  she said.  I suddenly felt invisible.

"Not if you hold the elevator door," he said with a grin.

I spoke up awkwardly.  "I can carry the box.  I don't want you to be late."
I don't know why I even bothered to speak.  The door opened, Agent Scully
sighed and pressed the hold button, and Agent Mulder carried the box to my
desk.

"Thank you,"  I said a little breathlessly.

He smiled again.  "You're welcome.  See you in the basement."

                       xxxxxxx

I stopped shopping at his neighborhood grocery store, and I don't go to the
Headless Woman or Casey's any more.  Now that he has actually acknowledged my
existence at work, I'm afraid he might notice me in the other places I've
haunted the last few years.

Maybe it's a fair trade.  When he sees me now he smiles and says my name,
sometimes even makes a joke about spending so much time in the basement,
almost like we share a bond.

Even Agent Scully is nice to me, in an absent way.  but I think it's only
because I'm so obviously harmless.  I'm no threat to either of them.  I don't
mean to make either agent out to be cold or unfeeling, there just is no room
for anyone else in their universe.

Lately I've taken to thinking about transferring to another office.  The
internal job posting listed a position in Salt Lake City that sounds
interesting.

I fantasize about going into Agent Mulder's office to say goodbye and
discovering that I mean something to him after all.  In my fantasy, he
follows me out to the hall as I choke back my tears and he tells me how much
my friendship means to him.  And then he begs me not to go, and he leans down
as if to kiss me, and Agent Scully appears at his shoulder, reminding him
they're late for something.

I can't even have a decent fantasy about him!  I'm really not blind or
delusional; and though I know rumors and gossip are usually nothing more than
just that, I'm pretty sure that Agents Mulder and Scully are more than just
partners.  It's been clear to me for some time that they share a deep bond,
whether or not there's physical intimacy.  But I now think *that's* there,
too.  It hasn't always been, despite what the rumor mill says.  But I think
that's part of the change in Agent Mulder.  That's why he finally noticed me,
I think, though I've been skulking around in the background for years.  His
attention has always been focused exclusively on Agent Scully before this,
but it doesn't have to be anymore.  He now knows how she feels about him, and
isn't constantly on the watch for signs.

I know the new ease in his manner isn't entirely to do with the change in his
relationship with Agent Scully.  He really did find out about his sister
while on that case in California, and that's a big part of it.  But the two
events are related, I know.  Maybe the amount of time they spent out there
had something to do with it.

They are very circumspect at work.  No one will ever catch them behaving in
an unprofessional way during office hours, and I'm sure they're very discreet
away from work, too.  I bet I'd never see them together away from the office
unless it was work related.  But to someone like me, who's been observing
them for a long time, it's obvious.  It's in the way they speak to each
other, or don't, in the confidence that shimmers from them both.  It's
definitely love, deep and abiding love.

I feel very protective of them still, even though neither knows it, and never
will.  I would do anything for them.  Well, anything for Agent Mulder, and so
by extension, Agent Scully too.  I wish with all my heart that someone cared
for me the way these two care for each other.  I don't kid myself, though.
It's rare, that kind of love and trust.  Very few people have it, I know I'm
not the only one doing without.  But it feels like it sometimes.

                       xxxxxxxx

One day I head that the X-Files division was shutting down again, for good
this time.  At first I didn't believe it.  How many times in the past has
this happened?  My first thought was, "for how long?"  and then, "what will
they do with Agent Mulder...and Scully?"

I couldn't help myself.  I went down to the basement, even though I didn't
have any real excuse.  Instead of lurking in the hallway, I went directly to
their office door.  It stood wide open, and there was Agent Mulder, in jeans
and sweatshirt, packing his desk.

I tapped tentatively at the door.  "Hello?"

He turned and smiled.  A real smile, genuine and brighter than any I've ever
seen from him.  "Hello there.  I'm glad you stopped by.  I hoped to get a
chance to say goodbye."

"So it's really true,"  I said, trying to speak calmly.

"Yep.  It finally happened.  But on *our* terms," he said.

<Our>, I thought.  Quick as ever, he picked up on my expression.

"Yeah, Scully--Dana--and I will act as consultants, but I'm leaving the FBI.
And," he smiled again, "we're getting married."

"Oh," I said lamely.  Too much information.  Way too much.  The bottom
dropped out of my world, but somehow I managed to smile back at him.  "That's
great news.  Congratulations."  I swallowed as I felt the tears start in my
eyes.  "What are you going to do?  For work, I mean?"

He had already turned back to his packing.  I was grateful he couldn't see my
obvious distress.  "Just consultation for now, though I'm considering a
professorship.  Dana's going back to Quantico for now, as head of the
Forensics Department."

"That's great," I said again.  "Well, good luck and congratulations to you
both.  I guess I'll see you around."  I turned to leave before I made a fool
of myself.  My throat felt like it was being squeezed in a vise.

"Wait a minute."  He caught up with me at the door.  "I know how supportive
you've always been over the years.  Even when I didn't see you, I could tell
you were there, in the background.  It's meant a lot to us--to me--that there
was someone out there who believed, too."  He was holding my hand.

"I haven't--I didn't..."  I stammered.  What did I ever do but hover and hope?

"You have and you did," he said gently.  "You used to transcribe my reports
without complaints. I actually got them back while the details were still
fresh.  That was a long time ago, I know, but I don't forget stuff easily."
Here was a first hand demonstration of his eidetic memory.  I was so
embarrassed, all I could do was stand there dumbly.  He touched my face with
his long fingers, and wiped the moisture from the corner of my eye.

"I'm sorry not to have gotten to know you better,"  he said.  "But Scully and
I will still be around.  And so will the X-Files, in some form or another.
In fact, I know Skinner wants to talk to you about that."

I was still speechless.  He squeezed my hand and let it go.  Just then Agent
Scully appeared at the door, also in jeans.  I don't think I'd ever seen her
dressed like that before.  I also noticed the ring sparkling on her hand, a
small blue stone surrounded by diamonds.

If I thought Agent Mulder's smile was bright before, I was mistaken.  Now it
was like the sun coming from behind a cloud as he said good morning to Dana
Scully.  Her smile was less broad, maybe, but no less radiant.  I slipped out
before either noticed I was gone.

When I got back upstairs, voice mail told me AD Skinner wanted to see me
right away.

                       xxxxxxxx

The basement office is mine now, and in a way, so are the X-Files.  Skinner
made me archive database manager and assigned me the job of researching and
categorizing all unsolved cases in the FBI database.  I'm finding a lot of
files with a "paranormal bouquet" in the regular archives.  And of course the
database I created as an extracurricular activity is coming in handy.  Still,
I can see that this project could take me years.

Especially since Skinner has authorized me to take the investigative courses
out at Quantico.  At the same meeting where he handed me this assignment, he
told me that good agents were hard to come by, and he'd had a very strong
recommendation from someone that I'd make a good agent.  I think I know who
made that recommendation, but Skinner isn't saying.

Skinner was reluctant to allow it at first, but I insisted on taking over the
basement office.  He thought I'd want to move everything up to my area, but
what would the Hoover Building be without its spook in the basement?

The walls were bare and freshly painted when I came down to lay claim to my
new digs, but I could still feel Agent Mulder's presence.  I sat down in
*his* chair for the first time, and almost tipped myself on the floor.
Skinner had asked if I wanted my furniture moved down and I had decided not.
But I went up and got my own chair.  This one would probably kill me.

Agent Mulder left one other item for me on his former desk.  A note attached
to a cardboard tube read:  "Thanks for believing, FWMulder."

So "I Want to Believe" is back up on the wall where it belongs.  But now it's
my name on the door, and except for a few sunflower seed shells (which I'd
developed a taste for over the years), the place was now more me than Mulder.

I've started seeing someone away from work.  I met him at one of my
programming classes.  He had a brother in the FBI, killed in the line of duty
a couple of years ago.  He knows a little about the X-Files, and he isn't
afraid of them.  We've only gone out a few times for coffee, and he's no
Agent Mulder, but who is?  Life has to go on.

I do hear from Mulder now and then.  I've even called him once or twice.  I
have his cell phone number, his office number, even his home number.  But I
never call him at home.  When I do speak to him, I call him "Mulder."  I
tried "Mr. Mulder" once and he laughed and said, "Everyone calls me `Mulder'.
 Just do it."  After about the first dozen times I stopped stammering over it.

Not long ago, Mulder took me to meet some friends of his called "The Lone
Gunmen."  He said they'd often been helpful with X-Files in the past and he
thought they might also be helpful to me.  They're strange guys.  Still, I
kind of like them, and I felt it was a sign of the trust Mulder had in me
that he would introduce me to them.

Also recently I discovered the real reason for the sudden closure of the
X-Files and Mulder's decision to leave the FBI.  Dana Scully is pregnant.  No
one thought this would be possible for her, given the things done to her over
the years, but it's irrefutable.  I'm no less surprised than they are, but
I'm very happy for them.  I really am.

There will always be a part of me that belongs to Mulder, even if he doesn't
know he has it.  But I've moved on as best I can, by carrying the torch of
the X-Files and dating Austin Pendrell.  Some might say I've done more damage
than good to myself by getting involved in the X-Files, but I can't imagine
my life without them in some form or another.  It's not the best of all
possible worlds, but I want to believe it will do.

I want to believe.

end.

Acknowledgments and notes:

I could not have done this without using some of the wonderful resources
available out there, especially Deep Background and The AnnoX.  Still, if
I've made any big gaffes in eps I've referred to, it's my fault, not theirs.
Also I wrote this from an outsider's point of view, who had a less than
perfect understanding of what was going on, especially those things which
happened away from the Hoover Building.  She would have even less info to go
on than we viewers do, so please give her a break!

I actually started to write this just after Closure, when no one was sure
that there would be a Season 8.  It was my valedictory to a show I have loved
since the beginning.  It changed some as the season evolved, and by the time
Requiem rolled around, it had changed quite a bit.  I hope that you liked it.
 I certainly enjoyed writing it.  It's the longest story I've ever
written--the others haven't been more than 3 or 4 pages.

And now that you've read this far, please take that last little step and
email me and let me know what you think.  I appreciate any and all feedback,
and I promise to respond to you!  msnsc21@aol.com

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