Title: Rejuvenation Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. SPOILER:::Post-Millennium =-=-=-= Rejuvenation =-=-=-= "When our memories outweigh our dreams, we become old." -- President Clinton, speech from the Lincoln Memorial, Dec. 31, 1999 =-=-=-= Jan 1, 2000 12:32 am =-=-=-= The Lincoln Memorial was blue lit, and musicians performed on the steps, while the impassive and relaxed statue of Lincoln framing every television shot. The area swarmed with riot control policemen and Secret Service. Nothing had happened. Mulder watched the lingering fireworks, noting the irony as red tinged smoke filled the skies and loud explosions went off. It looked like the city was being attacked, but in fact, DC was celebrating. Crowds pushed around them and he realized that Scully couldn't see over the heads of most people like he could. Mulder gripped her arm and they made their way to the back, where the crowd thinned out and camera crews got their long shots as NBC, CBS, and ABC wound up the night. Without thinking, Mulder wound his fingers through Scully's, walking past the revelers and members of the press with his swift gait. When they managed to pass most of the crowd, Scully stopped him and pointed towards the Washington Monument. "Look," she breathed. Fireworks still burst in rounds as the tall thin monument lit up. It sparked white like millions of spotlights were focused on the building, then blushed a pink red that flashed. Fireworks were color coordinated with the flashes of lights dazzling the Washington Monument. They stood in awe, breathing in the cold air and gripping each other's hand. After leaving the hospital, Mulder had convinced her to drive them to the Mall, where the President and his family had celebrated until midnight, and then went to an all night party at the White House. They would be leaving about now, and Secret Service would be busy, but no one had stopped the celebration. She was glad he had made her come. The sky was alive with fireworks and popping, the clouds illuminated with smoke and lights, music playing everywhere. It beat watching the ball drop in New York from a television set in a hospital. "You know what's amazing?" he said. She glanced over at him and saw that Mulder had been watching her rather than the display. "What?" she said, her voice loud to pitch over the crowd. "All day today people all over the world have been celebrating the New Year. It just turned twelve here, but in California, they have another few hours." Scully blinked and smiled, shaking her head. What could she say to that? Mulder nodded thoughtfully, then tugged on her hand, pulling her beside him. He began walking again, threading his way through the people and cops and crowds. She followed along behind him, wondering where he was going, but trusting him all the same. After a few minutes of dodging crowds and running to get ahead of them, Scully realized that they were making their way to the Potomac River, and their bench. But crowds had gathered there too, and every seat was full; the banks were littered with families and kids and blankets with picnics and wine and silly kisses and serious making out. She stood there in amazement at the carefree and easy spirit in the air, then glanced to Mulder. He looked crushed. She squeezed his hand and he glanced down at her. "Guess everyone else had the same thought I did," Mulder said. She shrugged and looked back towards the river. It was black with night, but sparks of light erupted suddenly over its choppy waves as fireworks went off. Some people waded in, but were firmly pushed back to the bank by police officers and FBI agents. She was glad they did not have to be here officially. "Let's head southeast, down the river," she said, pulling him forward. He was planning something, she could tell, and the river was important to him. Or maybe it had been a spur of the moment thing and he'd wanted to see their spot, that bench on the Potomac. The main bridge to Arlington behind them, Scully and Mulder walked slowly down the river bank, watching people and watching the sky. Couples hugged or kissed, teenagers attempted to wade in, and some people were already trying to leave. They walked hand in hand and fireworks echoed in their ears. It was bitterly cold, and she could see her breath fog before her in the night air. Mulder's fingers were chilled around hers but they stayed close and continued to walk. Soon the numbers of people dwindled and Scully spotted an open bench were they could sit down. The concrete was cold and she shivered, smiling when Mulder wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The bank was the yellow of dead grass until it met the white pavement that had been added to keep the river from eroding the shore. Water lapped slowly against the sides and curled back to the river. The darkness was lit by fireworks and the silence by random shouts and the whine of rockets. Scully felt the heaviness of old things weighing her down, the memories of all the years spent fighting or suffering. There were times of joy and times of sorrow intermingled like old and new wine, sour in her mouth and sweet in her stomach. She found it hard to be certain about the coming years, the dawning century. Religion and faith and belief and trust, all these had changed for her--they would continue to change. All things changed. They could not have the X-Files forever, they would not live forever, at some point, she would have to say good-bye. "Hey, look," Mulder whispered. Her chin jerked up and she saw the barges light along the river, fireworks starting anew and the celebrating catching a fresh spirit. The water turned crystal in the light and the river looked peaceful and mysterious, like a portal to another world. "Scully?" She turned back and looked at him, the hard angle of his jaw meeting the soft roundness of his chin and nose. His lips were parted and his eyes were watching her intently. She felt his fingers caress her neck, smoothing and gliding down her skin like a whisper. His hand was cold compared to the heat building within her and she couldn't close her eyes to stop. "A fresh start, Scully. A new century and a new decade. And it's not even midnight in California." "Everything changes," she added softly, reluctant to speak and break the heaviness surrounding them. "We change. If we didn't change, we would grow too old." She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his softly, her eyes closing to just feel. . .to feel the changes moving through them even as they sat there. His hand tightened around her neck and this thumb stroked the base of her skull as his lips danced across her mouth, then paused. "Happy New Year, Scully." She breathed again and opened her eyes, feeling whole and new, feeling a kind of energy coursing through her that she had not felt in a long time. Her hands reached up and caressed his cheeks, her thumbs brushing his lips in a kind of promise. For them, it was a kiss of touch, a meeting of his skin to hers that held just as much importance. "Happy New Year," she echoed and turned to watch the fireworks along the river. His arm encircled her and she took in a deep cold breath of the winter air, letting it clear her head and her body of the heat. No matter the time, no matter the minutes or hours to or since midnight, the New Year was approaching for them both. They met the change with a change of their own, and a dream of promise. =-=-= end adios RM Happy New Year, Merry Millennium!