#august 1999

Scully says, with her eyes still glued to the article she started reading ten minutes ago.

Mulder leans forward and urges, right into her ears. “Look at the clock. Hurry.”

She looks at him, almost pitifully, before shifting her attention out of the window of their train.

“It’s a glitch, Mulder.”

He smiles mysteriously. “You just wait.”

Mulder does not bother her as she goes back to her article. As the train approaches the next station, he begins nudging her elbow. “Check out the clock, Scully.”

Knowing that he wants her attention and won’t leave her alone until she gives in, Scully closes her journal and looks at Mulder with a smile. “Mul—”

He points his index finger toward the platform.

She looks around at the scene out of the window, thinking it looks ordinary. A typical underground station, people walking, hurrying…

“What does the clock say, Scully?”

“It says August, zero, question mark, 2044.”

“Do you remember what it said at the last station?”

“Yeah, it was August 18, two-zero-two question mark. They have a bug, Mulder.”

“But I noticed the date and time are all correct with the stations above ground.”

She flashes him a tiny smile that tells him she’s humoring him.

“Look at the people, Scully. Don’t you think they’re dressed kind of… weird? When’s the last time you saw a kid wearing…that?”

“What are you, the fashion po—….”

Scully stops mid-sentence as she studies the children in burlap shirts and… strange ameba-patterned pants made of a material that looks like… nylon.

She collects her thoughts: “…So the kids are dressed funny and the clock’s off.”

“What if…” Mulder bites the bottom of his lip. “What if we accidentally got on a train that’s a time machine? And before you tell me time travel is impossible despite ten years ago you might have thought otherwise… we did just hop onto this train without knowing where it came from or where it’s going.”

“Remind me not to do this again the next time you want to do this again.”

He smirks at her riddle.

“Oh, it’ll be fun, Scully! We’ll just get the day pass and ride the train around!” Scully says in a voice that’s reserved only for mocking Mulder. “We’ll just go where the train takes us.”

Mulder rests his chin on the rounded end of her shoulder. “Nothing bad has happened, Scully.”

“True.”

“And there’s no telling that this train is—or isn’t—a time machine.”

“It isn’t, Mulder.”

“But what if it is?” He insists as the train smoothly glides out of the station and into the dark tunnel again. “What would we do if we got off at the last station and it was indeed 2044?”

“We’ll go see if the McRib has finally made it as a staple item on McDonald’s menu?”

Mulder looks at her amusingly. “Really? That’s the first thing you want to find out if you go to 2044?”

She gives him one of her enigmatic smiles. “That’s the only thing I want to find out if I go to 2044.”

His laughs make her shoulder vibrate. She tilts her head, waiting.

“2044, Scully! Maybe the world outside that station looked like the world in The Fifth Element. Hovering cars, sleeping pods—”

“Humans and aliens living in harmony,” Scully deadpans. “That movie was set in the 2260s, Mulder. I think it’ll take our civilization a lot longer than 45 years to get to a world like that.”

“We’d be old by then.” Mulder mutters, suddenly despondent.

She nods her agreement.

“It’d be nice to have hovering cars. We’ll just make out in the backseat.” He winks.

“It doesn’t take hovering cars to make out in the backseat, you know that, right?”

Mulder grins as the train slows, approaching the next station.

“Look,” he says lowly, “August 4, question mark-986.”

This station is vacant. Scully realizes that she is holding her breath, waiting for a passenger, something, anything, to indicate that they are not in 1986.

“This line didn’t exist in 1986, Scully.” Mulder points out softly, offering a possible explanation as to the deserted and destitute-looking station that looks more like a bunker.

“Yet there’s the electronic clock.”

Scully finds herself holding on to Mulder’s thigh. How funny, she thinks. They’ve faced mutants and monsters and supposed ghosts and goblins, but never once did she reach out to make sure Mulder was there with her. Now, a train stops at a nameless station without benches or patrons, and she’s all creeped out.

“How many stations on this line are underground? Maybe we should get off as soon as…”

As what? Scully asks herself. Safe? Nothing suggests that this is anything but an ordinary train on an ordinary line. Granted, yes, the digital display is off, and something also feels off, but as far as she knows, today is still August…

She turns to face him, her eyes searching his face for things she doesn’t quite know.

“Mulder,” Scully tries her best to keep her voice panic-free. “I can’t remember today’s date.”

His mouth opens, closes, and opens again. He grabs her hand that’s on his thigh. “It’s August, isn’t it? We woke up at my apartment, ate breakfast, and decided to spend the day… being out and about. It’s 1999. It’s August…”

She squeezes his hand. “What else do you remember?”

“Lots. I got you a cinnamon roll this morning, and you complained about the amount of icing on it. I’m out of coffee. We went to your mother’s last night… so that means today is Sunday.”

“She made pasta, and we made fun of her breadsticks. I remember that, but I can’t remember today’s date.” Scully echoes her earlier words.

The train starts moving again, and they watch as the scene outside the window turns pitch black; their reflections are staring back at them.

Neither of them speaks for several minutes. They just sit, staring at the other person’s reflection. The train is quiet—they have been the only passengers since they got on.

“Tell me, if the time displayed at the next station is August 1993, would you get off with me?”

Scully wants to turn to face him, but Mulder shakes his head no. “Would you?”

She answers carefully, deliberately, “Why would you want to get off if it’s 1993?”

“We can redo this. We can fix something. We can fix a lot of things…”

Mulder’s voice is tender yet firm. He’ll do it. He will. The thought of going back in time is always nerve-wracking to Mulder, because there’s the risk of messing everything up. But he’ll do it all over again with her—he won’t wait so long to kiss her this time.

“Don’t be silly,” she answers, and Mulder’s heart plummets like a cannonball into the ocean. “What would we do? Go and kill the other Mulder and Scully so we can steal their life just to live it again for them? I like where I am and where you are, Mulder. This is exactly what I want.”

She speaks as her eyes bore into his eyes in the reflection of the glass on the window. Her reflection smiles, and his reflection smiles, too.

Mulder kisses the corner of her mouth, feeling appreciated.

“Let’s get off at the next station that’s above ground. Let’s stay in 1999, Mulder.”

They ride, along the lulling rhythm of the train, both facing the window and the black canvas of the tunnel wall, sharing murmurs of whichever memory that’s currently taking the center stage of their brain, anticipating and dreading the light at the end of the tunnel.