Here's another vignette. I seem to have a really hard time finishing stories with actual plots, so your stuck with sad vignettes till I get around to finishing a real story. I guess this one follows "Prayer For the Dying", even though you need not read "Prayer" first, and I wrote this one first. Actually, It's not meant as a sequel at all. I like Scully, I really do.... Oh, yeah. All characters belong to and are used without permission from Fox and Ten-Thirteen productions. No copyright infringement intended. Insert favorite disclaimer here: All comments are extremely welcome, good or bad. And now... ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST By: Alyse Wax (AlyseW@aol.com) (© 01/05/95) "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...." Fox Mulder stared blankly at the hole in the ground. It was all over. That's it. The end. The sky was grey and threatened to explode with rain. Wasn't that always how it was? It was overcast and gloomy the day of Sam's symbolic funeral. Mulder thought he would never have a sunny day in his life again. Then he met Dana Scully. Ever the disbeliever, Mulder and Scully were worlds apart. Yet one common tie, a passion for their work, brought them together to be more than just partners. Best friends. They had been though so much together. The death of Dana's father. Mulder's bullet wound. Dana's abduction by Duane Barry. They had shared so many victories, so many defeats. But that was gone now. She trusted him with his life, and her with his. He felt like he had let her down. Although there was no way he could have foreseen that bullet -- Hell, he had been following a different lead -- he still felt the anchor of guilt weighing heavily in his chest, in his heart, in his soul. He doubted there would be any more sunny days. The thought of work without Dana haunted him. He could leave the Bureau. Or, maybe... maybe he could join her... no. He quickly dismissed the thought. Dana wouldn't have wanted that. Tears welled up in Mulder's eyes, and he desperately fought them back. He couldn't lose it now. Not in front of Dana's family. Margaret Scully came up behind him, her eyes puffy from crying. "Mr. Mulder...." "Please," he begged hoarsely, "I just need to be alone. Please." She looked at him for a moment, then slipped something into his hand. "Dana would have wanted you to have this." Margaret Scully hurried away. Mulder looked down into his hand. In it, was Dana's gold cross. He clutched it in his fist until his knuckles turned white. Alone now. He was all alone. Not just in this graveyard. In this world. "Damned world," he muttered. He knelt at the edge of the grave, looking into its depths. He dropped a white rose onto the casket, getting lost in a sea of other flowers. Taking a deep breath, Mulder reached into his pocket a removed a small sheet of paper, folded over once. On it was a single "X," written in magic marker. He dropped it into the grave, where it fluttered to rest next to the rose. "Good-bye, sweet Dana." He rose to his feet and left, not allowing himself to look back. The drive home was long and lonely. He didn't pay attention to where he was going, nor did he care. He eventually found himself at home, slumped on the couch. Then, and only then, did he allow himself to cry. Silent tear at first, which eventually grew to racking sobs. He didn't think anything could dull the ache in his heart. First Sam, then Dana. Sam, Dana. The emptiness was almost unbearable. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Finale. Well?