[ Mulder can guess what the long silence means, and not solely because he knows her; he's sitting quietly someplace, not crying so much as staring into the middle distance and wondering how much Emily would look like Scully by now. How old would she be? He has to count back...twenty-four? Twenty-five? In a better world, she'd be a college graduate, pursuing some passion, coming home for holidays and making her mother proud.
(And him, too. When it was clear Scully wanted her, Mulder wanted her, too. But just as with William, it's hard not to think of Emily as Scully's little girl.) ]
I'll pose for as many normal photos as you want, as long as there's room for William and Emily in them.
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(And him, too. When it was clear Scully wanted her, Mulder wanted her, too. But just as with William, it's hard not to think of Emily as Scully's little girl.) ]
I'll pose for as many normal photos as you want, as long as there's room for William and Emily in them.