Still lying underneath Mulder, Scully suddenly started to laugh.

"What is it?" he asked her, confused and dazed. He started to shift in an attempt to change their position, trying to get them both lying on their sides, facing each other.

The couch was kind of too small for that, but Mulder saw it as a plus. It was a perfect excuse to hold her close, as close as their bodies allowed without actually merging into each other.

They've already done the merging thing, finally and after all.

"What?" he asked again when she failed to stop laughing.

"I'm just…" her whole body adorably giggled in his arms. "…imagining what it would be like… if Skinner… walked in right now."

Mulder chuckled, not because he found the thought of Skinner walking in on them funny (he didn't), but because Scully's unusual behavior amused him.

However, when she didn't stop, he started to get worried. Her laugh was getting louder, violent even, and it soon turned into desperate, hysterical sobs.

Mulder didn't know what to do, so he just held her, whispering into her hair that everything was alright.

He saw her cry hard before, he saw her falling apart, but never like this. This somehow felt deeper, more intense than anything they went through before. He felt his own body absorb her sobs, he felt her pain deep in his bones, mixing with his own wounds, and rode it all with her.

No matter how bad it got, he wouldn't back away.

Not now. Not ever.

Finally, after a small eternity, the tears faded. But instead of relaxing into his embrace, Scully pushed him away and stood in a rage. Like a wild animal trapped in a small cage, she lost control and started to throw everything in her sight. The files, the reports, the books and other inventory gloriously flew in the air for a moment, to unceremoniously fall on the floor immediately afterwards. Scully then took a small wooden chair and threw it on the wall, before Mulder managed to catch up with her and stop her.

Her actions took him by surprise, but his reflexes were quick and he had her immobilized on the floor before she had a chance to do any significant damage.

"Stop, just stop," he begged her, as she kicked and screamed under him. "You're going to hurt yourself. Stop!"

"No!" she screamed, oblivious to his presence. "No! Let me go! Mulder, help me! Muldeeer!"

"I'm here, Scully, I'm here. Look at me! Scully? It's me."

Mulder left a huge sigh of relief when he finally got her to focus and come back to him.

"Mulder?" she touched his cheek carefully, as if making sure it was really him. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," he whispered. He wrapped her in a blanket and helped her get up and return to the couch, where she curled in a ball, confused and afraid.

"What's happening to me?" she asked in the most helpless voice he ever heard from her.

"I don't know," he admitted, quickly resuming assuring her that she was going to be alright. "We might have triggered something, something you buried because it was too painful to deal with at the time. But you are stronger now. It's two of us now. Maybe we are just ready to handle it."

She raised her eyebrow, looking at him as if he'd finally lost his mind, but he wasn't fooled by that look. Deep in her eyes, he could see a scared little girl, trusting every word that came from his mouth and pleading to him to protect her. With my own life, his eyes silently replied.

"Do you remember anything?" he asked carefully, not wanting to push her too hard.

Scully thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I… I feel like I do, but I don't. As if it's just below the surface… Mulder, I don't dare to remember."

He nodded and reached to wipe the sweat from her face. He noticed it was a cold sweat, so he wrapped the blanket tighter around her and pulled her into an embrace. She started to shake now, as violently and as inevitably as an autumn leaf on a heavy wind.

"I'm sorry," she repeated miserably.

"Don't be," Mulder assured her with a kiss on the hair. "Just let it out, whatever it is… Don't hold it in anymore… It's ok…"

"It's not because of…"

"I know."

"You didn't deserve this…"

"Scully, this is what I want."

"You want to witness me falling apart after our first time?"

"I don't want you to fall apart… But if you do, I want to be there for you. I want to be your secure place, your rock, where you can fall apart safely if you need to, and I want to help pick up the pieces to rebuild you again. I want to share your pain as much as your joy, Scully. I want everything."

She raised her head and looked into his eyes. What she saw there not only confirmed every word he just said, but promised so much more, way more than the words had the power to express.

"I want to be the same for you," she whispered.

"You are, Scully," he assured her. "You know that."

His words made her smile. He started to think she was getting out of it, but then her face distorted and her eyes filled with panic.

"I can't breathe!" she gasped, her body suddenly fighting for breath.

Without thinking, instinctively, Mulder pressed his mouth onto hers, and started to breathe into her. It was silly and awkward and inappropriate and… it worked.

Scully grabbed his head and sucked the life out of him, until her lungs were as full of him as her womb. It successfully calmed her anxiety, and their actions turned into a deep kiss, before they clumsily separated.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Scully shyly admitted.

"I never thought I'd live to hear you say that," Mulder responded contently. They may have gone crazy, but they were crazy together and that was all that mattered. This definitely wasn't the way Mulder anticipated the evening going, but in a way it was better than he could hope. Despite the intense and bizarre post-coital experience, he felt calm and satisfied. Scully was right behind him, catching up slowly, but definitely catching up. The shaking finally stopped and her body went limp against him.

"I'm tired," she said, already dozing off.

"Sleep then," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Dinner can wait."

She stirred once more, mumbling: "…the strength of your beliefs…" and the deep, healing sleep overtook her.

Mulder thought about her last words for a while. Those sounded very familiar, but he didn't know where to place them. It felt like he heard them before, but in another life, another time. Everything before they entered his office earlier today felt like it happened lifetime ago. He was almost certain that when they finally leave and go home, they will find adult kids there, maybe with the spouses and the children of their own…

Visualizing Emily and William as grown-ups entertained him for a while. Then he realized that the whole picture included him and Scully as old and wrinkled people. Growing old wasn't an attractive prospect in itself, but growing old with Scully sounded like the dream come true. He would push her wheelchair once, with his own wheelchair.

In sickness and in health. He meant it when he promised it, even though their marriage was supposed to be fake. Marrying Scully was easy, since in lots of ways it felt like they'd been married all along. Even if it wasn't true in any widely understood meaning of the term, she was always his significant other.

And now, finally, she was his and he was hers in all of the interpretations. It took them a long time to get there, where they had finally agreed they were heading on the day William was born. Mulder remembered that day as the most magical thing he ever witnessed, being so full of love and awe that he couldn't contain it in himself anymore, blurting out the most private feelings and desires in the too public and inappropriate place and time, in front of unwanted and certainly unneeded witnesses.

It didn't break the magic, though.

She said yes.

Now that William was almost one year old, and exactly eight years since they first met, their relationship finally passed the long platonic stage.

It wasn't the best sex Mulder ever had, but it was the most intimate experience, satisfying in so many more ways than the mere physical pleasure. He was looking forward to more of it, thinking about different techniques and positions they could try. He wished she would be on top, so that he could enjoy the view, instead of worrying about accidentally suffocating her in the boring old missionary position. He was aware they would have to keep taking it slow and that she may never be ready for his wildest fantasies, but it didn't bother him at all. They had the rest of their lives to get there, wherever it was they were going, whatever it took them to get there. As long as they were together, they'd figure out all that came their way.

After an hour, Mulder tried to wake Scully, but with no avail. Her sleep was so deep that she barely stirred even when he started dressing her and had to move her around to put the clothes on her. He tried to offer her some tortillas, but it didn't work so he ate them both by himself. He was as hungry as she was exhausted, but he couldn't take her to the dinner in this condition. There was nothing left for him but to take her home.

He had to carry her though. All the way to the car, from the car, and all the way to their bed, where he gently removed most of her clothes again and left her to sleep in her underwear.

He was pleased more than worried about her condition. This was the woman who never rested, not because she didn't enjoy a warm bath or sleeping late, but because she rarely had a chance to. Their lives have been one emergency after another. But now her breathing was fine, her pulse was fine, and her face looked content, nicely spent. There was nothing to worry about.

Mulder kissed her on the forehead and quietly left the bedroom. He then called Monica to ask her to bring back the kids.

"I thought you were going to pick them up," Monica was confused.

"Change of plans," Mulder smiled. "My wife is too tired and I don't want to leave her alone."

"What did you do to her, Mulder?" Monica asked playfully.

"You don't want to know," Mulder tried to joke, feeling both embarrassment and a desire to brag.

"I'll take you word for it," Monica chuckled. "But can you really not come? We baked some cookies for you. Even William helped."

"Can you bring them with you?" Mulder asked hopefully. His stomach growled in synchrony.

"I guess we'll have to," Monica accepted. "See you soon, partner."

Mulder barely had a chance to fix a sandwich and take a shower, before everybody arrived. Not just Monica with his kids, but her husband and his son Luke as well. Mulder wasn't keen on entertaining the grumpy retired FBI agent at his home, but he didn't want the night ruined, so he offered them a drink.

"You know I can't," Monica reminded him. He kept forgetting she was trying to get pregnant and wanted to get everything right even before it happened. He made her a tea instead, while her husband got a beer.

"Where is Dana?" Monica wanted to know.

"She's sleeping," Mulder explained.

"So early? Is she ok?"

"Yeah… She just had a headache so she needed to rest…" Mulder lied, looking at the floor. Monica carefully observed him, making mental notes to ask Dana all about "the headache". She could see Mulder had trouble suppressing a smile and had her suspicions about the reason for that. She just hoped whatever happened, didn't happen in her office.

"How was dinner?" she asked.

"Great, it was…" Mulder started, remembering that his partner and his wife were good friends so if he lied, Monica would find out about it soon enough. "We didn't actually make it… to the restaurant."

Damn, Monica thought, why did I have to suggest the office? I even gave him some of my sensual aroma candles… What was I thinking?

Mulder could see her discomfort, but he couldn't bother with feelings of guilt. He was too happy for that. After a glance at John, who was watching TV seemingly oblivious to their conversation, Mulder leaned forward and whispered into Monica's ear: "Don't worry. I cleaned up."

"Oh… God!" she turned her head in disgust.

"It was your idea," he shrugged with a mischievous smile.

"No, no, no, no, no," Monica insisted. "That was not my idea."

"Maybe next time you should be more clear in your suggestions," Mulder proposed.

"Definitely. I will. But tell me… Is something wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is she really ok?"

"Do you think I would hurt her?"

"No, I just…" she shook her head, not knowing what to say. "No."

"I know," Mulder sighed. "She went through… something. It wasn't easy to process, but she's ok now, just tired. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Call me if you need anything."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Guests left soon, leaving the smell of freshly baked cookies behind them. Mulder got William ready for bed, and when he put him down, he noticed Emily was sad. She was sitting on her bed, holding her hamster.

"What's wrong?" Mulder asked, sitting next to her.

"I think he's sick," she replied, pointing to the hamster. "He won't eat or do anything, he's just lying like this…"

"Hm… Can I see him?" he carefully took the tiny body and examined it, under Emily's fearful, but hopeful gaze.

"Is he sick?" she asked worryingly.

"He appears to be," Mulder reluctantly confirmed. "We will take him to the vet tomorrow."

"Is he going to die?" Emily's eyes grew big, housing panic.

"I think he's old now," Mulder wanted to comfort her, but he didn't want to lie. "Hamster's don't live very long."

He carefully returned Genie to his owner, who started to silently cry.

"I'm sorry, Starbuck," Mulder wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Death was not a novelty to Emily and as much as Mulder wanted to protect her from the pain of loss, he knew he couldn't do that. Nobody could. You either die or watch your loved ones die. Death has always been the only certainty in life.

He wouldn't buy her a new hamster and claim it was the same one. He wouldn't buy her a replacement one. He would let her grieve and organize a funeral of sorts if she wanted it. It was all he could do.

Luke was also concerned about the hamster. On the ride home, it was all he talked about.

"Do you want one?" John asked him, having it discussed with Monica before. It was her idea, really. The woman was full of silly ideas and John initially dismissed it, but now, seeing his son's enthusiasm, he had a change of heart.

"I can't," Luke sighed. "Mom won't let me."

"Your mom doesn't make decisions in my house."

"Really? I can have one in your house?"

"If that's what you want, yes, we can get a hamster."

"But who is going to take care of him when I'm with mom?"

"Monica," John said quickly. He couldn't bring himself to say Me.

"Sure," Monica laughed. "I can keep him alive for you."

"Wow! I can't wait to tell Emily!" Look was beyond thrilled. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Two days later, Emily's hamster was gone, and to weeks after that, when Luke was staying with his father again, he got a hamster of his own. He named him Genie, which further strengthened his bond with Emily.

Next, it was Mulder's turn to face the loss, or more precisely, to finally learn the truth about his biggest loss.

So, you voted for Samantha to be dead. What kind of death was it? Please vote:

a) Her death was paranormal

b) She died from a mysterious illness

c) She died from a normal illness

d) She died in an accident

e) People killed her

f) Aliens killed her

g) Wild animals killed her

h) She killed herself

i) She died giving birth

j) She was killed by her clones

k) Her remains were found but the cause of death is unknown