Sharing Christmas memories with William, on her own, is all they have at the moment and Scully is going to make sure she does it right.

December 14, 2001

6:30 p.m.

"Okay, my sweet boy, I know you're going to like this. We just need to take a little drive, okay? Yeah? Yeah." She kissed William's cheek as she placed him into his car seat. Smiling at him as she gave him his pacifier and covered him, she stroked his cheek with her fingers.

Shivering from both the cold and a sense of excitement, she got into the car, locked the doors and turned on the engine, setting the heat on low, not wanting him to become too hot.

"You ready, William?" She took the folded postcard from her pocket and stared at it with a sigh.

A letter had arrived at the bureau yesterday morning, sent to Skinner's office, and then sent to her at the training academy with his letterhead upon it the next day. Assuming it had been something official, she had been surprised to find a short note of apology from Skinner explaining the mix up, and a square dark green envelope bearing only her first and last name written in silver ink, in a scrawl she had not recognized.

It had still been sealed and when she opened it, she had found a postcard with a picture of a cactus in the desert at sunset on the front and two words written on the back in black ink.

Christmas lights

It had taken her breath away, the handwriting different than on the envelope, and one she would recognize anywhere.

Mulder.

Turning the postcard over, she had wondered when and from where he had sent it, hoping he was still remaining safe. Tracing her fingers over the words, she had wiped away tears, folded it and placed it into her lab coat pocket.

The rest of the day felt never ending, her fingers brushing the postcard many times, the image of the two words burned into her mind.

The moment her last class had ended, she had grabbed her things and left, nearly running to her car, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months.

Driving quickly, she arrived at her mothers, thanking her for watching William and telling her they would see her at church on Sunday.

"Dadadada. Mmm mmm. Dadadada," William babbled, his pacifier clearly spit out and most likely somewhere in his car seat.

"Yes," she said. "You're right. Let's get going."

Tracing her fingers over the words once again, she nodded as she slid it back into her pocket. Putting the car in reverse, driving out of the neighborhood and making a right. She turned on the radio, Christmas music playing softly, as she thought about the last time she had taken this drive.

As they had left the hospital on New Year's Eve, Mulder had insisted they go, saying the place would be lit up, especially on the night of a brand new millennium. She had opened her mouth, but he raised his uninjured hand to stop her from saying that 2001 would be the true millennium. She had smiled as he shook his head and glanced at her, his eyes landing on her lips, her stomach full of butterflies, as she remembered the feel of his lips against her own.

Before they had even entered the neighborhood named Windsong, a place they had visited many times at Christmas, they had been able to tell it was different. Loud music had been playing, people laughing and dancing in the streets.

Finding a spot behind a long line of parked cars outside the neighborhood, they had walked into the crowd of people, smiling at one another, his hand landing on her back, though the opposite side than usual. Many tables had been set up in the street, the roads blocked off, drinks and food set out, the party obviously been going on awhile.

Taking nothing, they had simply walked around, looking at the Christmas lights and decorations, wishing those who they had passed a happy new year. Around the block, Mulder had taken her hand, neither of them saying a word about it; the act of doing it, as natural as breathing.

While they enjoyed the sight of all of the houses, there had been one in particular that had always drawn his attention, and he raised their joined hands to point as they had arrived at it. She had smiled and nodded, waiting to hear his theory as to why someone living in Maryland, would choose to decorate their home with a desert theme: a large lit cactus Christmas tree, lit up tumbleweeds, howling coyotes, snakes and turtle statues, and brightly lit cactus and desert flowers.

"Why the desert?" he had asked as he did every time, and she shook her head, not caring much about the decorations at the moment. "I don't understand it, but it's my favorite."

"Of course it is," she had said, rolling her eyes with a smile. "It's the only one like it in the whole neighborhood. It's unique and original. It's different and weird."

"What exactly are you implying?" he had said in a flat tone, giving her a look, and she laughed.

"We chased… well, for lack of a better word, zombies tonight, Mulder. We both nearly died. We are that cactus, that tumbleweed. The weird collective, standing out where others tend to blend in."

"Hmm. I prefer to be the coyote if labels are going to be assigned to me."

"Fair enough," she had said with a laugh.

"You can be the cactus."

"Why? Because I'm prickly and I retain water?" she had teased and he laughed, shaking his head.

"Okay, maybe not the cactus. You're that cactus flower," he had said, gesturing with his chin to a large bright pinkish purple flower. "Something beautiful that has succeeded in a harsh and oftentimes hostile environment."

"Mulder," she had breathed, squeezing his hand. "Exactly which drugs did they give you before we left the hospital?" She smiled, facing him and raising her eyebrows.

"None, surprisingly. My arm is actually hurting like hell," he had answered, looking down at his sling.

"Mmhmm," she had hummed with a smirk. "You sure about that? Calling me beautiful? After just one kiss? It has to be drugs."

"No," he had said quietly. "I don't need to be on any type of drug to know that you are beautiful. That's obvious to anyone who sees you." She had smiled and he had let go of her hand, cupping her cheek and stroking it with his thumb. "Though the kiss didn't hurt."

"No," she had said, smiling wider. "It didn't."

"Oh… I see what ya did there," he had whispered with a chuckle. Staring into her eyes, his thumb moving so softly, it had made her stomach ache, he had bent his head and kissed her.

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly did he kiss her, she had grabbed onto him to steady herself as she had fallen into him. Only when he had pulled back, seething in pain, had she realized she had been pressing into his injured arm.

"I'm sorry," she had whispered, relaxing her grip as he exhaled a breath.

"Worth the pain," he had said, his eyes closed and a grimace on his face.

"Might try telling that to your face," she had laughed, rubbing his arm gently until he opened his eyes.

"Worth it," he had confirmed softly, his eyes traveling her face and she smiled, kissing him softly one more time.

Taking his hand, they had continued walking around the neighborhood, stopping again at the party of people and watching them for a bit, before getting into the car and driving to her apartment. He had looked surprised, but she had only smiled.

Once upstairs, she had given him a painkiller, helped him change into some of his clothes she kept in a drawer, rewrapped his bandage, and adjusted his sling to allow him to sleep more comfortably.

Attending to her own wounds, wincing as she applied a cream to them which stung, she had changed and joined him in her bed. He had been near asleep, propped up on pillows, when she shut off the lights and laid down on his uninjured side.

A loud snore and a groan had caused her to smile in the dark as he shifted slightly.

"Next year… no zombies. Just… watching the ball drop," he had said slowly, his words slurring slightly, the painkiller doing its job.

"For the true millennium?" she had teased and he moaned. "It's a date."

"Nobody likes a… math geek… Scully," he had said and she laughed, scooting closer to him and grasping his hand.

"Not exactly true, because you sure do," she had whispered and he hummed, gently squeezing her hand before falling asleep with his mouth open, breathing loudly and evenly.

She had laughed and fallen asleep not long after, the events of the day and the late hour finally catching up to her.

Wiping her eyes, William still babbling in the backseat, she shook her head at the memory, wishing they had spent the next New Year's Eve together as they had planned. But fate had different plans, and the true millennium she had spent crying and alone, pregnant with a child that would never know his father.

Or so she had thought.

And now, after coming back to them against all odds, Mulder was gone again. Away from them, no idea if it would ever be truly safe enough for him to return.

But, he had taken a chance and sent her a message. A reminder to go someplace where they had been happy, a place no one knew of, but the two of them.

Part of her hoped he would be there, waiting in the shadows for them, to share a brief moment together, forgetting about the worries of the world.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "That can't happen."

She would never be able to let him go again if he was there waiting for them.

No, it would just be her and William, no one else. She would not look around, hoping to find him, and then be disappointed when she left and he was not with them.

A few minutes more and they arrived at the neighborhood, the Christmas lights shining brightly, as well as the lights from the cars driving through to see them.

Turning left, she parked and took a deep breath, before unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out, taking William from his car seat.

"What do you think?" she asked him, watching him look at the lights. She smiled as he turned his head left and right, looking at her with a big smile. "Yeah, it's pretty, huh?"

Closing the door, she locked the car and walked down the street, pointing at the houses and explaining what things they were seeing: a snowman, Santa, reindeer, elves, a couple of Grinch's, angels, and nativity scenes.

"These are all beautiful, but the best ones, the ones your daddy and I love best, are the ones around the corner. They are a bit odd and different, but that's what makes them the best."

She shifted William, telling him about the first time they had seen the lights and subsequent times since then, Mulder's theories and how silly his daddy could be, while also knowing about nearly everything.

"He would have loved bringing you here tonight, telling you everything I've told you, adding his own twist to it all, smiling as he watched you. God, William. I'm so sorry he's not here with us." She kissed his forehead, and the edge of the warm blue hat covering his head, as they kept walking.

"Oh, there it is. Look, my little bullfrog." She pointed and he followed her finger, staring at the lights and then bouncing excitedly. "Yeah, you like that one, huh? Of course you do."

Allowing a car to pass, she crossed the street and walked closer to the house. She showed him the cactus decorated like a Christmas tree, the tumbleweed, explaining how they were created and what they did. The animals he liked especially, his blue eyes shining, as she squatted down to let him see them better.

"The last time we were here, we claimed a couple decorations for ourselves. Your daddy is the howling coyote, because well…" She smiled and kissed William's head and then pointed up at the bright flower. "That's Mommy right there, the beautiful flower because she's beautiful and amazing, which isn't being boastful as I'm only repeating what Daddy said to me." William shouted and she laughed, standing up and looking around.

"We need to find one for you. Which do you suppose your daddy would pick? Hmm… oh, that one wasn't here before. It's a… oh…" She smiled as she stepped a little closer. "It's a fox. A small fox…"

Turning around quickly, despite what she had thought in the car, she searched in the darkness, wondering if he was there, if he knew about the addition to the decorations, and had wanted to see it with them.

"No," she whispered, turning around again. "No, I can't look." Holding William close, she closed her eyes, kissing the top of his head. Opening her eyes, she let out a deep breath and smiled.

"That's you, my little bullfrog. You're the small fox. A coyote, a flower, and a small fox… an odd, but perfect family. That's us, William."

She turned him around, staring at him and smiling. He shoved his fist into his mouth, chewing on it as he looked at her, smiling at her as he drooled.

"My sweet boy," she said, holding him to her chest and sighing. "I love you so much."

"Ahhh!" he shouted and she laughed, kissing him as she moved him to her side.

Glancing back at the lights, she nodded at them, her eyes lingering on the coyote.

"Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Hope we'll see you soon, Coyote," she whispered and turned away from the house, continuing down the street, once again pointing out the decorations they saw, William screeching happily and smiling at all of them.

So preoccupied was she with William, she did not notice the car parked down the street, the windows up, covering the sound of a camera shutter clicking continuously.

Augusta, Georgia

New Year's Eve

3:45 p.m.

Holiday music was playing from speakers set up outside a restaurant in preparation for the party that night, as Mulder sat anxiously on a park bench. Bundled against the cold in a dark gray beanie, black hoodie, dark track pants and sunglasses, he waited, just as he had at the same time for the past week, leaving once the agreed upon hour was up.

Sighing as he looked around, his sunglasses afforded him anonymity and privacy to stare and not look suspicious. He glanced down at his watch, noting that he had fifteen minutes left until he would have to leave, both the bench and the city, not wanting to be in one place too long.

A family walked by, a little boy skipping as the mother pushed an empty stroller.

"Keep going. I'll catch you up," the father said, sitting at the opposite end of the bench Mulder was occupying, setting the newspaper he was carrying down between them. "My shoes are untied. Go on, honey. I'll just be a moment." The wife nodded and called to her son, the family continuing to walk on without him.

Mulder glanced at him, but did not speak, paying him no attention, as he still watched and waited, glancing at his watch, his time counting down.

The man tied his shoes, stood up and began to walk away when Mulder noticed his newspaper was still lying on the bench.

"Your newspaper," he called out nonchalantly and the man shook his head.

"It's not mine," the man said, nodding pointedly at him as he kept walking, laughing as he called out to his son.

Heart racing, Mulder waited until they were gone to pick up the paper, noting there was something slightly bulky within. Slipping it under his arm, he walked in the opposite direction of the man, to the VW camper van which he had been living in for the past two months.

Getting inside and closing the door, he locked it. Taking off his sunglasses and beanie, he set them down on the passenger seat, as he closed the curtains in the windows. Sitting on the bed, behind the dark blanket he had tacked to the ceiling of the van, he turned on the light above him.

Opening the paper, he found a manila envelope. Taking a deep breath, he let it out as he tossed the newspaper aside. Opening the silver clasp of the envelope, he took out the contents which were inside of another sealed envelope with words written on the back.

She's safe. They both are. You stay the same.

Letting out another breath, he opened the envelope to find a stack of pictures, the first one of Scully's smiling face. Christmas lights glowed behind her, her hair nearly as long as it had been when he first met her, and tears pricked his eyes.

There were dozens of pictures of her and William as they looked at the lights, her finger pointing at things, William's eyes wide as he took it all in. He was so much bigger than he had been when Mulder left, smiling and happy, and he had missed all of it.

Touching his fingers to the pictures, he felt tears on his face, but he did not brush them away.

Standing in front of the cactus house, there was a picture of her staring straight at the camera and he wondered if it was possible that she had seen it. But, he knew Frohike would have been cautious and stayed far enough away, using a telephoto lens to take the pictures.

A close up photo of her kissing William on the cheek was too much and he put the pictures back into the envelope, closing the clasp and setting it beside him.

Laying back on the pillow, he cried, missing both of them so very much. He thought of Scully's laugh, the scent of her hair when she laid her head on his chest, and the weight of William as he held him in his arms.

When he had changed his diaper for the first time, William had cried loudly, causing him to feel anxious until Scully had smiled, calmly showing him how to do it. William's cries had diminished once Mulder had lifted him and held him close.

Shaking his head, he sat up and let out a breath, wiping at his eyes.

When he had sent the note and instructions to the Gunmen, he had done so with good intentions, wanting to bring her some happiness, remembering the times they had spent there, and believing that photos would help him feel closer to them. Now, all he felt was incredibly lonely and even further away from them.

"God," he breathed, running a hand down his face. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

But he had to do it. By staying away, it ensured that they would remain safe.

Shaking his head again, he put the envelope of pictures into a drawer under a sweatshirt, and rose from the bed and behind the curtain.

Rinsing his hands at the small sink, he scrubbed his face and wiped it dry. Sitting down in the driver's seat, he took out the map and double checked the route he had chosen.

With a nod and a heavy heart, he started the van and headed toward the highway, wanting to be away before crowds began to gather, ringing in the new year with friends and family.

As he merged onto the highway, a snow flurry kicked up and he turned on the windshield wipers. Blinking back tears, he fought the urge to turn around and change course, heading north as he so desperately wanted.

Pressing down on the gas, he shook his head, continuing westbound, doing all he could to keep them safe, while it simultaneously broke his heart.