A/N1: Written for International Women’s Day 2011.
Monica stood on the patio watching the sky turn several shades of red and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon. She tightened the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and drew in a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. She then turned and gazed at the figure sprawled across the bed inside the bedroom and smiled softly. She could have never predicted the course her life had taken, but she wouldn’t change a single thing. Retired from the FBI, a tenured professor at an ivy league school, and twenty years (and counting) with Dana Scully. Life was good.