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Scorched Earth

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It wasn't supposed to be this way. Not for them. They weren't supposed to be the ones left standing at the end. They were supposed to be dead, tragically lost in the epic battle to save humanity and the planet, and it was supposed to be Dana and Monica standing in their place. Heartsick at their lost but jubilant over the victory that was their continued freedom. That is the story humanity would have wished, the happy ending with good triumphing over all, but it is not the one they lived.

The war still rages on, the final and decisive victory eternally elusive. Dana and Monica are most likely dead, though no bodies have ever been found to prove it, and although they live, it's little more than a half life.

Colonization is no longer a threat, but only because of the policy a battered human race adopted. Scorched Earth has never before been so aptly applied. That which the aliens need is destroyed and is how the war became one of attrition. The colonists can no longer realize their plans and thus are determined to exact a price upon humanity for the loss.

Humanity, however, doesn't seen to mind. Instead, the remnants of the human race are almost cheerful in their willingness to fight. The small pockets of resistance which are all that remain of their once great civilization take up whatever weapons they can to fight. Their lives are in tatters, their homes and cities in ruin but among the ruins they run free, seeking out each and every chance they can to thumb their noses at the enemy.

In the case of John and Mulder, this is especially so. They make their home in what was once the White House. The above ground building is little more than a bombed out husk picked clean by looters but the lower levels still suit their needs.

Most of them.

It is Mulder's appreciation for irony which drives them above ground for this night. He wanted this and with so few pleasures left in the world, John - he knows - will never deny this simple one to him.

His former adversary, rival for the affections of a woman now long dead, denies him little. Indulges him more than he should, more than is safe, but Mulder knows he enjoys this too. As much as, if not more than, he does. Though he doesn't make nearly the production of it Mulder does, John appreciates irony just as much. It's one of the many things he's come to learn of the man over the years.

They always wait for dark, though it really doesn't matter. The Colonists' scouting parties would find them no matter if it were day or night. They've learned that one only too well with the near misses they've had, but they are comfortable moving through the charred building in the dark and so the dark is their time. They always end up in the same place. The ash strewn, nearly demolished room that was the Oval Office in another life. Though they have never discussed it Mulder knows they both are amused by their choice of locations. Which is probably why they picked it, neither one can escape the thought that their former partners would've gotten quite the kick out of it. The irony is perfectly delicious Mulder giving John the blowjob to end all blowjobs against the battered piece of furniture that had been the presidential desk. It's just too perfect.

There would be no way either woman wouldn't appreciate it and, if they didn't, the two unexpected lovers couldn't deny, Bill would've approved.

And beneath the starry night, Mulder can smile.