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Winter Beach
by Lisby
Summary: Just take it as it comes. A BtVS/X-Files cross-over.
Author Notes: Thanks to iwonder and MaybeAmanda for the beta. and for just
being so darned groovy.
Story Notes: Spoilers: Hell's Bells (BtVS) Existence (XF)
Set during Mulder's absence in season 9 XF and immediately after the
aborted Anya/Xander wedding in Buffy.
Warnings: language
Disclaimer: All characters are property of CC and Joss. No infringement
intended.
Scarborough Beach, Cape Elizabeth, Maine 3/10/02
Winter beach. Winter blues. Mulder wanted to kick the sand as he walked
but knew the March wind would only cast it back in his face. Another
insult to injury, and one he didn't need. He was already pissed that he
couldn't sulk in private. There were others on the beach this frigid
afternoon-- a smattering of people, but just enough to make him grumpy and
watchful. So far, no sign of Billy Miles. The son of a bitch had been
dogging him for weeks as Mulder skipped like stone on water across the
nation.
Goddamned Billy. Or goddamned whatever-Billy-was-now. In his head he saw
the real Billy tethered to a crucifixion chair, deadish and mutilated, as
the Bountyhunters gripped Mulder's upper arms like steel claws. He was
next in line for a chair, next to be manhandled toward martyrdom....
As the memory pervaded and prevailed, Mulder drifted off his straight
course until a wave crashed close enough to send a rush of water over the
toes of his boots. The sand was wet muck. He could kick it now, but why
fucking bother? Ennui had won the toss.
Mulder walked on, moving back upbeach, away from the surf. There was a
woman sitting on a blanket up by the edge of the dunes. She wore a lilac
parka trimmed with white fur and sat indian-style with her hands tucked
under her armpits. She stared out to sea with a glassyeyed, miserable
resolve that made Mulder confident she was fully human.
She was also beautiful as an fallen angel. That became increasingly
apparent the closer he came to her. Wisps of straw blonde hair escaped
from beneath the hood of her parka, her eyes were tired, sad blue, and her
white skin was pinkened by the cold wind at the highpoints on her
cheekbones and nose.
Gorgeous woman. And really in need of a compliment. Something to bring a
smile, a spark. Something to ignite that beauty, to push it toward
perfection, for his lonely benefit, if not her own. "Excuse me," Mulder
said. "I'm not trying to pick you up, but I-- I just wanted to tell you
how lovely you are."
The woman looked at him and blinked. "Thank you," she said. "Now go
away."
"I-- I really wasn't--"
"I'm mourning. Please go away." She spoke like a child, like a
fantastically beautiful three-year-old. Mulder knew his smile to be both
dopey and enchanted.
"Well," he said slowly, "I can respect that. I'm mourning, myself. So....
Well.... Bye."
He started to walk, but she stopped him. "Wait! I'm supposed to say 'go
away,' although I really don't want you to. And you're supposed to come
back now." He turned around. She was leaning toward him with her hands on
the blanket and arms braced to support her. "Why are you mourning,
mysterious tall dark stranger?"
"Um-- my family. I've lost my family."
"Oh." She said simply. Then added, "I was supposed to get married."
"Didn't happen?"
"No. Are your family all dead?"
Mulder had looked back toward the water, but his head swiveled at her
bluntness. "No. No, they aren't, but I-- I can't see them. I can't be with
my son and my partner for reasons that are...very weird."
She took a deep breath and drew herself up, tucked escaping strands of
hair behind her ear. "Sit." She firmly and patted the empty place on the
tartan wool next to her. "We can commiserate together. Humans do that. So
we have to."
Mulder stopped breathing for a moment.
"You're human, aren't you?" she asked, head cocked to side.
"Mostly," he replied. "I think."
"Good. Sit down."
Oh Mulder, you've pushed the button and now curiosity is suddenly killing
your cat. Mixed metaphors aside, Mulder liked her pluck but didn't think
she'd snap his neck like a toothpick. God, he thought, I wish I could
think more originally when confronted by loveliness and by mortal fear....
He settled himself next her and turned up his coat collar against the
sideways assault of the wind. It was blowing from the southeast, muscling
along dark fat clouds. It would rain soon. The woman next to him extended
her hand. "I'm Anya."
"Mulder," he returned, his hand briefly gripping her own before returning
to the shelter of his pocket.
"I was supposed to get married but this guy I cursed about a hundred
years ago scared off my fiance." When Mulder raised an eyebrow she smiled
and added. "Sorry. Need to explain: former vengeance demon."
"Oh."
"You?"
"Former law enforcement turned alien abductee," he told her as the dopey
smile spread across his face again. "Now I'm daddy to the newborn
Messiah.... I think."
"Hmmmm." She bobbed her head as if-- well, as if what he'd said and what
she'd said before that wasn't raging mad.
"I really wasn't trying to pick you up," he felt compelled to repeat.
"It would be okay if you were," Anya answered supportively. "I'm supposed
to be on the rebound. We could go to a cheap, tawdry motel and I'd be your
sex poodle."
"Sex poodle?"
"Do you like spankings? Xander did. Xander was my fiance."
"I-- I see."
"I'm very skilled at spankings. First I strip you, and then I put over my
knee--"
"That's-- that's okay, Anya. Why don't we just sit here awhile instead?"
"Oh. Okay.... Well, so why can't you see your wife and Savior baby?"
He both smiled and laughed a little crookedly as he fumbled to respond.
"I guess-- I guess it's a prophesy thing."
"Oh, like where the vampire father has to eat his own son for the
Apocalypse to come, or the one where the alien-human hybrids can't have
the father and son alive at the same time or the Apocalypse won't come?
Hey, you know, that second one sounds--"
Mulder swallowed entirely wrong and bent over coughing, a fist pressed to
his mouth. She patted his back sympathetically.
"I left," Anya told him when he was breathing correctly. "I just packed
up my car and left Sunnydale. I've been driving ever since and making
daystops to mourn. You?"
"I just packed up my car and left, too. And I've been driving ever
since."
"Daystops?"
"Mostly to use the showers at truck plazas."
Anya shook her head. "That's not good. You should be doing more mourning.
You need to mourn or else you'll never get over your heartbreak and be
able to go on," she counseled. "I've read that it's okay for personal
hygiene to suffer while you mourn."
He bit his lower lip and regarded her for a long moment. "Did I tell you
I'm not trying to pick you up?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"The answer is yes."
"To what?"
"I'll come with you on the road. I passed a dealership in Cape Elizabeth.
We'll trade in both our cars for a minivan."
He wanted to tell her that was waaay not the answer to the question he
had waaay not asked, but found he just couldn't. Didn't want to. He was
lonely and she was not a normal woman, anymore than he was a normal man.
"Okay. But... Anya?"
She was already standing and trying to pull the blanket out from under
him. "Yes?"
"No sex poodle stuff, okay? I'm a one-woman man. But I could really use a
good friend."
Anya smiled. "How sweet. What's your wife's name so I can pretend
otherwise, but actually foment my jealousy and disdain?"
"Her name is Scully."
"Scully." She reached out her hand.
"Right." He let her help pull him to his feet. "And no fomenting, Anya."
"I'm supposed to."
"Break with tradition on this one."
She was leading him by the arm along the path that cut through the dunes,
"Oh come on! This is going to make mourning so much more enjoyable! We'll
stop for dinner at this little diner I saw on the way here-- after we
trade in the cars, of course, and then we'll find a bed and breakfast.
We'll get separate rooms, but I'll come in the middle of the night and
just need you to hold me. Tomorrow we'll drive aimlessly toward
Michigan--"
"Michigan? Why there?"
"--and we'll find someplace spontaneous to mourn at along the way.
Eventually, after months of traveling together and many adventures, I will
realize that although you are handsome and special, Xander is my life's
love and Scully is yours and we'll part as devoted friends who share an
unbreakable bond. Won't it be fun?"
Mulder couldn't stop grinning. It just felt so good. "Yes, Anya. I think
it will."
End
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