TITLE:  Sara Mulder Stories: Forward Momentum
AUTHOR:  Lara Means
E-MAIL:  LaraMeansXF@aol.com 
WEBSITE:  www.oocities.org/larameans_2000
CLASSIFICATION:  SRA
RATING:  *strong* R for sexual situations
ARCHIVE:  NO to Gossamer, Spookys; I'll submit directly to both.  
YES to Ephemeral.  Anywhere else, please ASK.  I'll say yes; I 
just like to know where the kids are at the end of the day.
FEEDBACK:  Please?
DATE POSTED:  10/05/01

DISCLAIMER:  I don't own them.  Heck, I don't even own my name.  
It all belongs to 20th Century Fox.  No infringement intended.  
(Additional disclaimer at the end.)

SPOILERS:  How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, Milagro, Sein Und 
Zeit, Je Souhaite, Requiem.  AU after that.

SUMMARY:  "I need to live for *today*, Mulder.  For today, and 
for tomorrow.  We're finally together... and I want us to move 
forward now, as a family."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This story is the fifth in the "Sara Mulder 
Stories" series.  It would help if you read the first four -- 
they can be found at 
http://www.oocities.org/larameans_2000/sara_mulder_stories.htm 
(More notes at the end.)

This story takes place on December 24, 2013.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FORWARD MOMENTUM

written by Lara Means

I'm not sure exactly how to tell him.  There's been so much on 
my mind these last few days, so many decisions made, I just 
don't know where to begin.

All I know is, this is right.

I smile to myself, certain that this will be the best Christmas 
Sara and I have had in a long, long time -- probably for Mulder, 
too.  It occurs to me that I don't know anything about how he's 
spent the last eight years, before Sara decided she wanted to 
meet him, to be a part of his life.  He doesn't talk about it 
much, other than the work he's done with the National Center for 
Missing and Exploited Children.  But I know he's been alone -- 
and he isn't alone anymore.

"Ma'am?"  The taxi driver's voice rouses me.  "We're here, 
ma'am, but all the lights are out.  You sure there's somebody 
here to meet you?"

I look out the window at Mulder's house, dark and silent.  It's 
late, after midnight, and they weren't expecting me tonight -- 
but I know they're inside.  My family.

"I'm sure," I tell the driver, pulling out my wallet.

"Let me help you with your bags --"

He starts to get out, but I stop him.  "No, that's okay, but 
thank you.  And Merry Christmas."  I give the man a very 
generous tip and climb out of the cab, hauling my suitcase and a 
large shopping bag out with me.

"Thank you, ma'am, and the same to you.  I'll just wait until 
you get inside."

I give him a smile and find my keys, the ones Mulder gave me 
when Sara moved here back in October.  Unlocking the door, I 
turn and wave the driver off.

Once inside, I'm struck again by the utter hominess of Mulder's 
house.  It's warm here, and there's a lingering hint of spices 
in the air, mingling with the pine scent of the huge Christmas 
tree standing in the corner.  It smells like I remember home 
from my childhood, and I wonder if they were baking earlier.

I set my shopping bag on the sofa, leaving the task of putting 
the presents under the tree until morning -- then I hear a 
growling sound behind me.

I turn to see Spooky, Mulder's black Lab, coming down the 
stairs.  I crouch down and extend my hand -- I've only met the 
dog a few times, and I hope she remembers me.  It didn't occur 
to me that she'd be protective like this, but I'm glad she is.

"Hey, Spooky," I whisper as the dog gets closer.  "Remember me?  
Sara's mom?"  I swear there's a change in her expression when 
she hears Sara's name -- her tail starts to wag and she comes 
right up to me, first sniffing then licking my hand.  I pet her 
and scratch behind her ears.  "Good girl.  I bet you sleep with 
Sara every night, don't you?  Keeping her safe?"  I give the dog 
a hug, grateful that she's watched over my little girl these 
past few months.  Spooky licks my chin, then trots back up the 
stairs to Sara's room.

I see him as soon as I walk into the master bedroom.  He's lying 
on his back under the comforter, bare-chested, sound asleep.  I 
creep closer to the bed and look down at him, savoring this 
opportunity to admire him.  The dark sweep of his lashes, the 
strands of hair falling onto his forehead, the rough stubble 
along his jaw... those luscious, full lips, parted just so...

I decide not to wake him just yet.  Leaving my suitcase by the 
closet, I slip into the bathroom to get undressed.  I notice a 
few things there that are obviously for my comfort -- candles, 
bath oils, a soft sponge next to the tub.  That tub... it's 
huge.  Big enough for two without being the least bit crowded.  
I shiver, anticipation running through me.

I make sure to turn out the light before going back into the 
bedroom, then I quietly slip into bed next to Mulder, getting as 
close as I can.  I lean down, my lips at his ear, and flick it 
lightly with my tongue.  I'm rewarded with a little moan, so I 
nuzzle some more, my nose in his hair, my lips and tongue 
caressing his ear and his neck.  He gives me a nice growl, and I 
know I have him.

"You're slipping, G-Man," I whisper.

I see a smile cross his lips, and I wonder just how long he's 
been awake.

"That's *ex*-G-Man," he murmurs, rolling toward me a little, his 
eyes still shut.  "And what do you mean, slipping?  I knew you 
were here the whole time."

"Just waiting for me to seduce you, huh?"

He opens his eyes, grinning up at me.  "Wouldn't take much.  I 
have it on good authority that I'm a pushover for the right 
woman."  He reaches up to stroke my face, then pulls me to him 
for a lingering kiss.  His hands roam a bit, up and down my 
throat, my shoulders.  When he ends our kiss, his eyes wander 
over my body.  "Why, Dr. Scully," he says, mock-shocked, "you're 
not wearing any clothes."

My hand trails down his chest to his stomach, to trace the 
waistband of his flannel pajama pants.  "I see I'm alone in 
that, Dr. Mulder."

"Easily fixed."  His hand replaces mine at the elastic and he 
tries to shove the offending garment down and out of the way 
without getting out of bed.  "Shit," he mutters, then gives up 
completely -- he throws off the comforter and sheet, leaps out 
of bed, disposes of his pajamas and jumps back in, pulling the 
covers up over us before I have a chance to get chilled.  
"There... how's that?"

I give him a broad smile and draw him back to me.  "Much 
better," I tell him, bringing him closer.  It's the last moment 
of control I have -- Mulder swoops down and captures my mouth.

His hands return to wandering my body, tickling my breasts, 
caressing my thighs, teasing my folds.  My own fingers play over 
his strong shoulders, his sensitive nipples, his well-toned ass.  
All the while, our tongues thrust and parry in each other's 
mouths, not sparring but dancing, stoking each other's desire.

When he finally enters me, it's exquisite.

My legs wrap around him of their own volition, my heels at his 
backside, urging him deeper.  His arms circle me, lift me, hold 
me close to him.  He whispers in my ear, sweet, sweet words of 
love and passion.  He sometimes calls me 'baby' in moments like 
this, and an occasional 'Dana' slips through -- but when he 
comes, it's 'Scully' that he moans, just as it's always 'Mulder' 
that I cry out.

When he collapses on top of me, spent, I tighten my hold on him.  
I never want to let him go.  We took so damn long to get here, 
it's difficult to believe that this is only the ninth time we've 
made love.

Five times before he was taken, and Sara was conceived that very 
first time.  Four times now since October, since I knew without 
a doubt that Mulder still loves me.

Eventually he moves off of me, taking me with him so we're both 
lying on our sides, facing each other.  Gentle touches and sweet 
kisses follow as we cuddle against the December chill.  Finally 
he looks into my eyes and asks what he's wanted to ask since I 
walked into the room.

"Not that I'm not *really* glad to see you, Scully... but I 
wasn't expecting you until this time tomorrow."

I quirk an eyebrow and try to suppress a grin.  "So is this how 
you greet every woman who wanders into your bedroom at one 
o'clock in the morning?"

"Not *every* woman, no," he tells me, kissing that eyebrow.  
"Just the mother of my child."  His eyes search mine for a 
moment, then he asks, "So what's up?"

For an instant I consider telling him now -- Mulder's gaze can 
do that.  But I don't.  The timing isn't right yet.  So I shrug.  
"I got away early.  I missed you."  I lean closer and kiss him, 
lingering just a bit.  When I pull away, I run a finger over his 
lips and whisper, "I missed this."

He hums and kisses my fingertip, those beautiful eyes staring 
into mine.  After a moment he nods, then shifts a little, 
pulling me closer.  I shift too, resting my head on his shoulder 
and my hand on his chest.  I feel his heartbeat, strong and 
steady against my palm, and I hold him tighter.  He exhales 
deeply and relaxes, sleep beginning to overtake him again.  
Before it can, I reach up to caress his face.

"I love you, Mulder," I whisper to him.

He drops a kiss into my hair, his murmured "love you" nearly 
lost there -- but I hear it.  I always hear it.

Sleep claims us both.

*   *   *   *   *

I wake to the smell of coffee and the feeling that I'm all alone 
in this big bed.  I pry one eye open just a little to see Mulder 
close the door behind him as he comes in, a steaming mug in his 
hand.  He's obviously been up for awhile, long enough to shower 
and dress anyway.  He sees me watching him and smiles.  I love 
it when he smiles.

"Hey, sleepyhead."  He puts the coffee mug on the nightstand and 
leans in to kiss my forehead.

"Time izit?" I mumble, still half asleep.

Mulder chuckles, brushing my hair off my face.  "After nine.  
You must've had a busy day yesterday."

I struggle to sit up and reach blindly for the coffee Mulder 
brought me.  "More like a busy night last night."

He smiles again, handing me my coffee and leaning in for a 
proper good-morning kiss.  His fingers brush my exposed breast, 
first tickling, then caressing.  I try to escalate things, 
deepening the kiss and pressing his hand to my breast.  He 
resists, pulling back and tugging the sheet up to cover me.  I 
raise an eyebrow, questioning.

"Sara's been begging to come in and wake you for the past hour," 
he tells me, and I nod, sipping my coffee.  I'm anxious to see 
her too, but I'm glad Mulder didn't let her see me lying naked 
in his bed.  Yes, Sara and I have had The Talk -- but it's one 
thing to explain sex to your twelve-year-old daughter, quite 
another for her to know you're actually doing it with her 
father.

"Tell her I'll be out in a bit."

Mulder nods and kisses me again, then gets up and heads for the 
door.  "We'll have breakfast waiting."  He goes, closing the 
door behind him again.  I stretch languorously, still getting 
used to his big bed.

*Our* bed.

*   *   *   *   *

When I finally come out of the bedroom, it's to the delicious 
aroma of cinnamon.  I have to ask.  "What smells so good?"

"Apple cinnamon muffins," my daughter says, running from the 
kitchen and into my arms.

"Mmm, my favorite!  Thank you, sweetie," I tell her, hugging her 
tight.  "God, I've missed you so much!"

"Missed you too, Mom."  Sara reaches up to kiss me, and I 
realize it's not as far a reach as it was just a few months ago.

"You're getting so tall!"

"She gets that from me," Mulder says as he comes through the 
back door with Spooky.  I lean down to pet the dog, then I reach 
up to give Mulder a quick kiss.  "Morning," he whispers, and I 
smile.

Breakfast, it turns out, is more than just muffins and coffee.  
With Mulder's help, Sara has prepared a feast for us -- ham and 
cheese omelets, fresh berries and juice complete the picture.  
Sara's becoming quite a cook, and I'm just a tiny bit jealous 
that Mulder's the one who's teaching her.

As we eat, I watch them.  Their ease together still amazes me.  
They didn't even know each other until six months ago, when Sara 
took the first step.  I was reluctant at first -- more for 
myself than for her, I realized later.  I didn't know how Mulder 
felt about either of us, didn't know if he'd welcome us into his 
life.  We'd hurt each other, and I didn't want Sara to get hurt 
too.  But she understood before I did -- he loved her, loved us.  
Wanted us to be together.  He even asked me to marry him that 
day in October.

Saying no was the right thing to do then.  They wanted to get to 
know each other, and they needed the time alone.  So Sara came 
here to live with Mulder while I moved to Boston, to fulfill my 
own dream of being a 'regular' doctor.  I've missed her 
terribly, but the ER at Boston Mercy has kept me hopping for the 
past two months.  Now, though...

"Mom?" Sara's voice pulls me from my thoughts.  "Could you drive 
me to Macy's this afternoon?"

"What's at Macy's?"

"Last minute Christmas present."

"It's Christmas Eve, Sara," I scold, although I know my daughter 
doesn't procrastinate often.

She leans in close and whispers, "It's for Daddy.  It's hard to 
shop for him when he takes me shopping."

I glance at Mulder, who gives us both an innocent shrug.  He and 
I both know it's probably an excuse -- she wants us to spend 
some time alone -- so I nod and we make plans for a little 
mother-daughter bonding.

*   *   *   *   *

In the car on the way, we talk a little about school.  She tells 
me about her science project on DNA, her history paper on the 
lasting effects of the Gulf War, her grade on her last algebra 
test.  She tells me about her friends, Lindsey and Karyn and 
Allison, and about the slumber party they want to have next 
month.  I smile at the thought of Mulder surrounded by a throng 
of giggling twelve-year-old girls, then Sara drops her bomb.

"Mom... how old were you when you first kissed a boy?"

I nearly drive us off the road.

"I, ah... I don't remember exactly.  It was a long time ago."  I 
sneak a glance at her -- her face is red and she's turned away 
slightly.  "Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Sara, a girl doesn't ask about kissing a boy just out of 
curiosity."  I give her a gentle smile.  "What's his name?"

She returns my smile, and her blush deepens.  "Michael 
Williams."

"You know him from school?"

"He's in seventh grade," she says, nodding.  That would make him 
thirteen, almost fourteen.  Hmm.

"Is he cute?"

"Mom!"

"Well, is he?"

"Yes," she tells me, turning coquettish, reminding me of Melissa 
at that age.  "He's kinda tall, and he has really dark hair 
that's always flopping into his eyes.  He's on the basketball 
team, a point guard."

I keep my eyes ahead, searching for a parking space as I come 
back to her original question.  "Has he kissed you yet?"

Sara doesn't answer.  I find a space not too far from the store 
entrance, then turn to her.  She's staring out the window, 
absently chewing on a fingernail -- another of her many Mulder 
traits.  "Fair's fair, sweetie.  You wanted to know how old I 
was -- I want to know how old you were."

She turns back to me and shrugs a little.  "He hasn't yet," she 
tells me, her voice soft and shy.

"But you want him to, right?"  That gets me a tiny nod, and I 
reach over to tuck her hair behind her ear.  She looks so young, 
but she's asking such a grown-up question...  My little girl 
isn't a little girl anymore.  She's becoming a young woman.

I remember when I was Sara's age.  Melissa was fourteen, already 
worldly in my eyes, with a boyfriend she had to keep secret from 
Ahab and Billy.  I was incredibly jealous -- even though 
intellectually I knew there more important things in life than 
boys, in my heart I wanted to be just like my big sister.

One day, I caught them making out in the living room.  Mom had 
gone shopping, Billy was at football practice and Missy was 
supposed to be watching Charlie and me -- Brad wasn't supposed 
to be there at all.  I can't remember why, but I was angry, and 
I threatened to tell on them.  Brad said something mean -- that 
I was too ugly to get a boyfriend -- and I ran to my room in 
tears.  A little while later, Missy came in.  She sat next to me 
on the bed, told me Brad wouldn't be back -- "He's a weasel," 
she said, "and a lousy kisser," which had us both laughing 
through our tears.  She hugged me and told me I was pretty -- 
gawky twelve-year-old Dana really needed to hear that -- then 
she gave me the advice I pass on to my love-struck daughter now.

"Don't worry, honey.  When it's right, it'll happen."

Sara looks at me, blinks a few times -- then grins and rolls her 
eyes.  "Real profound, Mom."

I grin right back at her.  "It got me through my teen years."

"Your *teens*?  *How* old did you say you were?"

By now we're both laughing, hugging there in Macy's parking lot.

Once inside, we head straight for the menswear department -- 
Sara evidently knows what she wants.  Turns out they've been 
holding Mulder's size for her, and while the sales clerk goes to 
get it, she slips an arm around my waist.  "Thanks for bringing 
me, Mom."

I plant a kiss on top of her head as the clerk returns with her 
purchase -- an exquisitely soft cashmere sweater in the most 
amazing shade of deep blue.  Mulder looks incredible in blue.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Sara asks hesitantly.

"Oh, Sara... he'll love it.  It's perfect."

"I think he'll look really handsome in it."

"He certainly will."

*   *   *   *   *

The moment we walk into the house, we're greeted by the most 
tantalizing aromas.  Sara smiles.  "Daddy's started on Christmas 
dinner."  She rushes up the stairs to wrap Mulder's sweater, and 
I head for the kitchen.  He's not there, so I snoop a little.

The idea of Mulder cooking still impresses me.  In all the years 
we were together, he became an expert at reheating take-out.  
But now, there's a turkey in one oven, a pan of cornbread in the 
other, turkey stock simmering in one pan, and... tomato sauce?

"Uh-uh, no peeking!" I hear behind me.  Mulder reaches around 
and replaces the lid on the tomato sauce as I turn to him, 
lifting an eyebrow.  "It's for tonight's dinner.  Everything 
else is for tomorrow."

"We're having tomato sauce for dinner?"

"Tomato *soup*.  Tomato vegetable soup, actually, and grilled 
cheese sandwiches and a salad.  After that huge breakfast, I 
thought we'd eat light."  He gives his soup a stir, then turns 
to me, drawing me close for a quick kiss.  "You two grabbed a 
bite while you were out?"  I nod and he leads me back into the 
living room -- where there's a plate of cookies and a pitcher of 
warm cider waiting for us on the coffee table.

I shake my head as I bite into a cookie -- it's delicious, crisp 
and delicately spiced.  The cider is warm and sweet, with just a 
touch of cinnamon.  "I can't get over it."

"What?"

"You.  Cooking.  Baking, even.  It goes against everything I 
thought I knew about you."

Mulder smiles and snuggles closer to me on the sofa.  "I like 
cooking, Scully.  I've always liked cooking.  I just never had a 
reason to before."  He leans in for another kiss, then veers off 
at the last second and gobbles down the rest of my cookie.  
Laughing, I grab a couple more and get comfortable, draping my 
legs across Mulder's lap.

"How was ladies' day out?" he asks.

"Good.  We talked about school, and next month's slumber 
party..."  He groans at that, and I smile.  "...and boys..."

"Boys?  What boys?"

"Well, just one boy, really.  Michael Williams."

"Who is he?  I'll kill him," Alpha-Dad Mulder says.

I feed him a cookie to divert his destructive impulses as I 
answer, "You can't kill him, he's a star point guard."

"Then I'll wait until after basketball season.  Seriously, who 
is he?"

"Just a boy at school Sara likes.  It's not drastic."

"Yet."  I give him a look, and he continues.  "Scully, you 
forget -- I was once a teenage boy.  I know how they think."

"He's just fourteen, Mulder."

"Yeah, well..."

I can't hold back my laugh any longer.  "I always knew you'd be 
like this."

"Like what?"

"Overprotective.  Sara'll be lucky if she's dating by the time 
she starts college."

"Damn right!"  I laugh again and lean up to kiss him.  "She's 
our little girl, Scully!  We can't let just *anybody* go out 
with her!"

"Oh, no, we can't do that," I tease.  I pull him closer and kiss 
him again, threading my fingers through his hair.  "I wish I'd 
known you when you were a teenager..."

"Yeah?" he murmurs against my throat.

"Mmm... wouldn't have taken me seven years to get you into bed 
then."

Mulder starts to laugh, then tickles me mercilessly until I'm 
squirming.  I surprise him by raising up to straddle him, 
sinking down onto his lap.  I feel his burgeoning erection 
prodding at my center, and his hands slide down my back to my 
waist.  His fingers steal their way underneath my sweatshirt, 
pushing it up as they climb.

"Mulder..."  The backs of his fingernails glide over my stomach 
and I shiver at the touch.  "Sara's right upstairs."

"You started it," he tells me with a smirk, his hands moving 
higher.  He teases my breasts through my bra, still nuzzling my 
neck.  My fingers tangle in his hair and my eyes drift shut, my 
hips rock against him.  His hands move behind my back -- I gasp 
when he unhooks my bra, and again when he shoves the cups up and 
out of his way.  Then he ducks his head under my sweatshirt and 
runs the flat of his tongue over one turgid nipple -- my fingers 
tighten in his hair as I hold him to me, and I forget to 
breathe.

I rock against him a little faster now, and his hips catch my 
rhythm.  He pays equal attention to both nipples, first one then 
the other, lapping and nipping and sucking for all he's worth.  
I've never had an orgasm just from breast stimulation before, 
but if anyone could make it happen, it would be Mulder.

This is one thing I love about making love with Mulder -- he is 
completely, totally focused.  The movement of his hips is an 
afterthought -- what's important to him is what he's doing with 
his mouth and how that affects me, my pleasure.  My head is 
back, eyes closed, lower lip between my teeth, fingers 
scratching his scalp -- his focus is contagious, and it seems as 
if my world has narrowed to include only the two of us and what 
he's doing to me.

My eyes come open and I look down to see his dark silky hair 
partly covered by my sweatshirt.  I smile at the sight, feeling 
like a teenager myself, making out on the sofa in my parents' 
living room.  I toss my head back again... and freeze.

Sara.

Standing there on the stairs, her mouth open, staring at us.  A 
gift-wrapped box in her hands.  Our eyes meet and she blinks, 
her face turning red.  She drops the box and stammers out an 
"oh," then turns away and stumbles back up the stairs.

Shit.

I tug on Mulder's hair, whispering for him to stop.  He looks up 
at me, confused, his eyes dark with desire, his hips still 
moving beneath me.  "What, Scully?"

"Sara..."

"She's upstairs --"

"No, she -- she saw us."

His eyes go wide.  "Oh, shit."

"Yeah."  I scramble off of him and we pull ourselves back 
together.

"We've gotta talk to her."

"Mulder, could I talk to her alone for a few minutes?"

"Wouldn't it be better if we both did?"

"Just a minute, that's all I'm asking."

He looks at me a moment, something else on his mind.  "Has this 
happened before?"

I'm stunned by his assumption.  How could he think that?

"No," I tell him as strongly as I know how.  "I just want to 
talk to my daughter.  Please?"

He gives me a tiny nod, then a little smile of encouragement.  I 
hand him the box she dropped, motioning toward the Christmas 
tree, and head up the stairs to face her.

The bedroom door is closed, so I knock and wait for her reply.  
It doesn't come right away, so I knock again.  "Sara?  Can I 
come in, please?"

Her "yeah" is so soft, I almost miss it.

When I enter the room I find her sitting on her bed, hugging one 
of her stuffed animals -- the little green alien that Mulder 
gave her a few months ago.  She doesn't look up as I come in.  I 
leave the door open and sit beside her, but she still won't look 
at me.  I reach over and take her hand.  "Hi," I whisper.

Sara's face crumbles and she launches herself into my arms.  
"Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry..."

My arms go around her, soothing her, comforting her.  "It's 
okay, sweetie..."

"I wasn't there long, I promise, I didn't see anything..."

I pull back a little and look into her eyes.  "It's all right, 
Sara.  Really.  You have nothing to apologize for -- but I do."  
She raises an eyebrow as I wipe away her tears.  "This is your 
home.  We made you uncomfortable, and I'm truly sorry for that."

She sniffles and draws the little alien closer.  "It's your home 
too..."  I give her a tiny smile and glance away.  We both know 
that it's not true, not yet, and she shrugs.

"Doesn't change the fact that we shouldn't have been doing that 
on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon."

"Well, yeah," Sara grins, as if it's the most obvious thing in 
the world.  I can't help but return her smile.  "Just don't let 
it happen again."

A laugh escapes me, and Sara joins in.  She gives me a hug, 
everything forgiven, then I get a bit serious again.

"So, do you... have any questions?"

Sara's blush returns, and she pulls away from me a bit, busying 
herself by rearranging her stuffed animals on the bed.  
Something's on her mind -- I just wait for her to go on.  
Finally she speaks, but doesn't look at me right away.

"I know we've talked about... sex... in the abstract.  You know, 
theoretically -- 'a man' and 'a woman,' like that -- but not 
specifically."  I pale, wondering and fearing where this is 
going, but she puts my mind at ease.  "I *really* don't want to 
know what you and Daddy do together, okay?  But..."  Finally she 
looks up at me, concern rather than curiosity in her eyes.  
"...it's different for you now, isn't it?"

If it didn't hit home for me before that my little girl is 
growing up, it certainly does now.

Sara's level of perception amazes me, it always has.  In so many 
ways, she's much more mature than her twelve years.  Even at the 
age of four, when Mulder was returned, she knew something was 
going on.  Maybe she sensed the tension between Ethan and me, 
maybe she could pick up on my divided loyalties and the pain I 
was feeling.  Maybe... maybe she's just as intimately connected 
to her father and me as we've been to each other.  That would 
explain this very accurate observation.

"Yes.  It is."

"Why?"

I'm pretty sure this is one of those questions she already knows 
the answer to, and I smile.  "Because it's Mulder."

Sara returns my smile and nods, then looks toward the door and 
blushes again.  "Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, sweetheart."  Mulder comes into the room and stands beside 
me, hands in his pockets.  "Are we okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay."  Sara gets a little twinkle in her eye.  
"You two try to keep your hands off each other, at least until I 
go away to college, all right?"

Mulder chuckles and leans over to kiss her on the head.  "I 
think we can live with that."

"Good.  Now, out, both of you.  I've got stuff to do," she tells 
us, herding us out of the room.  I give her a hug, then Mulder 
takes my hand and leads me out.

I put the cider into the refrigerator while Mulder stirs his 
soup and checks on the rest of his pots and pans.  His back is 
to me and I almost miss what he says.

"What did she mean, it's different for you now?"

This is not a conversation I want to have with him right now.  I 
don't answer right away, hoping he'll let it drop.  I should 
know better by now.

"You agreed with her, said because it's me.  What were you 
talking about?"

I try to give him something easy, even though I know he won't 
buy it.  "Our lives, I suppose.  Our lives are very different 
now, because of you."

Mulder looks at me now, some blend of emotions in his eyes that 
I can't identify.  "You said she never walked in on you and 
him."

"She didn't."

"Then how could she know that sex is different for you now?"

"I don't know, Mulder.  Children sense these things... it was a 
small apartment..."

He shakes his head and moves toward me.  "What was it like, 
Scully?  With him?  How did he touch you... kiss you..."

"Mulder, I will not discuss this with you!"

He grips my arms and stares deep into my eyes.  "I need to know.  
Please."

"Why?"

"Because... because you were married to him.  Because you stayed 
with him eight years ago."  Those emotions in his eyes... hurt, 
heartache, uncertainty.  I reach up to touch his face, to 
comfort him, but he won't accept it.  "I need to know -- if I'd 
made a different decision then, would we have had a chance?"

"I don't know, Mulder."  He releases me and turns away.  I let 
him, knowing he'll either believe me or he won't, on his terms.  
"I don't know what might've happened.  I made mistakes in my 
marriage... the biggest one was marrying a man I wasn't in love 
with."

Mulder looks at me now, but I find I can't look at him and say 
what I need to say.  I close my eyes so I can continue.  "I 
loved Ethan.  And he was good to us.  He gave us a stability 
that we desperately needed then.  But it wasn't fair to him to 
stay in the marriage when we both knew my heart belonged to 
someone else."

I feel his hand on my arm, gliding down to take my hand.  I open 
my eyes and look up into his, drawing strength and giving 
reassurance at the same time.

"No matter what decision you made, Mulder, I should've had the 
courage to leave him.  I didn't, and now he's dead.  And I have 
to live with that."  Mulder squeezes my hand and I'm grateful 
that he seems to understand.  But I have more to say, more I 
hope he'll understand.

"But I don't want to live in the past anymore.  Yes, I have 
regrets, and I'm sure you do too.  And not only from eight years 
ago, but from fourteen years ago... and before that."  He nods, 
no doubt thinking of his own regrets.  I reach up and caress his 
cheek, knowing that we both need the contact.

"I need to live for *today*, Mulder.  For today, and for 
tomorrow.  We're finally together... and I want us to move 
forward now, as a family."

He draws me close and wraps his arms around me, kissing my 
forehead.  I lean against his chest and let him hold me.  Then I 
hear him whisper, "I'd like that, too."

Now, Dana.  Do it now.

"Mulder... I need to tell you something."

He pulls back and looks down at me, concern clouding his eyes.  
"What is it?  Are you okay?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," I say with a smile.  I decide to 
just say it.  I don't even take a deep breath first.

"I quit my job yesterday."

Mulder's eyes narrow slightly in confusion.  "What?"

"I quit my job at Boston Mercy yesterday."

He shakes his head a bit, trying to make sense of what I'm 
saying.  "Scully, why... I thought you liked being a doctor."

"I do, I love being a doctor.  Just not at that hospital, being 
challenged repeatedly by so-called *colleagues* twenty years 
younger than me.  And not in Boston, where it's cold and... 
lonely."  Damn.  I promised myself I wouldn't cry when I told 
him about this, and now the tears are threatening.

Mulder cups my face in his hands, his thumbs ready in case those 
tears happen to fall.  "You don't have to be lonely," he 
murmurs, kissing me softly.  We stay close, our foreheads 
touching.  This position is so familiar, so comfortable...

"I know," I tell him, snuggling deeper into his embrace.  
"That's why I'd like to live here... if it's okay..."

He leans back a little, so he can see into my eyes.  I give him 
the best smile I can and wait for his answer.  Slowly, so 
slowly, a huge grin to match mine spreads across his face.

"Well, I'll have to check with the other woman in my life... but 
I'm pretty sure it'll be okay with her."

My laugh bubbles up without warning, and he joins in.

*   *   *   *   *

We tell Sara over dinner -- Mulder's delicious tomato vegetable 
soup and my very melty grilled cheese sandwiches.  She's 
outwardly delighted, but there's something about her reaction 
that seems just a little off.  I want to ask her about it, but I 
hesitate.  Maybe it has something to do with what happened 
earlier, maybe she's still uncomfortable with the idea of Mulder 
and me physically together.  I shake it off, deciding to talk to 
her later, and enjoy the meal.

After dinner, we settle in on the sofa with the rest of the 
cookies and spiced cider for an evening of holiday videos.  
While Mulder digs through his collection, I have a moment with 
Sara.

"You sure you're okay with this, my coming to live here?"

She looks surprised.  "Oh, yeah.  Mom, I'm so thrilled, I can't 
tell you..."  She glances over at Mulder and raises her voice a 
little.  "I know Daddy's happy.  He won't have to face the 
slumber party all by himself..."

"Thank God" is Mulder's reply, and my daughter and I share a 
smile and a hug.  I'm still vaguely disquieted, but I let it 
drop as Mulder deposits a pile of disks on the coffee table.  We 
sift through them, choosing the ones we want to watch tonight.

'A Charlie Brown Christmas' -- one of my favorites when I was a 
kid.  Linus' retelling of the birth of the Christ Child always 
touched me.

'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' -- the original animated 
version, not the other one.  Billy used to tease me when I cried 
at the end, when 'the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that 
day...'

Mulder holds up one for our approval, and I quirk an eyebrow.  
"'Silent Night, Deadly Night,' Mulder?  An ax-murdering Santa 
Claus?"

"C'mon, Scully, it's a classic!"

"So's 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.'"

"I don't have that one."

"Yes, you do," Sara pipes up, finding it in the pile.

Mulder makes a face.  "That dentist elf gives me the creeps."

"How 'bout this one?"  Sara holds up another one.

'A Christmas Story.'  I gave Mulder a tape copy of that one 
years ago, after a horrible Christmas Eve we'd spent together in 
a haunted house.  Well, being with him wasn't horrible, but the 
house was.  I hadn't known it was one of his favorites until he 
opened it and started quoting dialogue.

Mulder and I exchange glances -- suddenly he starts chanting, 
"You'll shoot your eye out!  You'll shoot your eye out!"  I 
can't help but join in, and before long we're both laughing 
while Sara eyes us dubiously.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

*   *   *   *   *

"Did you like the movie?" I ask as I brush her hair.  We started 
doing this when she was just a toddler, not long after I'd gone 
back to work.  It was our time together, for us to be mommy and 
daughter at the end of the day.  When she moved here Mulder 
started doing it too, but tonight he told me he had some 'Santa 
stuff' to take care of downstairs.

"Yeah.  It was weird, but I liked it."  Sara turns to grin at 
me.  "My favorite part was when that one kid got his tongue 
stuck to the flagpole."

Biting back a giggle, I resist the urge to shout 'thtuck, 
thtuck, thtuck!'

We sit together in silence for a bit, that suspicion that 
something's wrong creeping up on me again.  Finally I put the 
brush down and shift on the bed to face her.  "Are you sure 
everything's all right, sweetie?"

"Yes, Mom, everything's terrific."  She takes my hands in hers, 
and I'm reminded of that night back in July when we decided to 
see Mulder again.  My daughter was a great comfort to me then.  
"I'm so glad you're coming to live with us.  I mean, the last 
two months have been excellent, getting to know him -- I didn't 
before, really, and you knew that.  And I'm glad you gave us the 
time.  But now... all of us, together, finally... what's not to 
love about that?"

I give her a big hug, rocking us and stroking her hair.  "You're 
a great kid, you know that?"

Sara sits back and smiles.  "Got great parents."

"I'll second that," Mulder says from the doorway.  "The mom 
part, anyway."

"The dad part too," I add, holding out my hand to him.  He takes 
it and leans down to kiss Sara goodnight.  I do the same, adding 
a 'sweet dreams,' and we're almost to the door when she calls 
him back.

"Daddy?  Could you braid my hair?"

Mulder glances at me, and I give him a kiss, whispering, "Meet 
you downstairs."  Then I go, leaving them to their daddy-
daughter time.

As I head for the stairs, I pass Mulder's old leather couch.  I 
stop to run a hand over it, remembering.  So many things, good 
and bad...  I held him on this couch after his mother died.  He 
held me after a psychic surgeon tried to remove my heart.  We 
made love for the first time while Bill Murray chased a gopher.  
Sara was conceived on this couch.

The good stuff definitely outweighs the bad, I think.

As I turn toward the stairs again, I hear her voice.

"...then why aren't you getting married?"

Then his.

"Sara, we've talked about this --"

"But things have changed now, Daddy, she wants to live here.  I 
don't..."

"Shh... I know, baby... I know..."

She sniffles.  My heart tightens in my chest at the sound.

"It's not that I'm desperate for you guys to get married.  I 
mean, Karyn's parents aren't married, and Allison lives with her 
dad and his boyfriend.  It's just... I don't understand."

"Sara, you know we both love you very much, don't you?  And I 
love your mom more than anything.  And she loves me.  We just 
have to go at her pace.  She'll let us know when she's ready."

I hear Sara sniffle again.  I want to go to her, to both of 
them, make them see how much I love them.  Instead, I swipe at 
my own tears and hurry down the stairs before they find me 
listening.

*   *   *   *   *

I find myself in Mulder's bathroom without really intending to 
go there.  I don't want him to know I've been crying, so I 
splash some cold water on my face, trying to ease the redness in 
my eyes.  I don't even notice the candles until I look in the 
mirror.

The candles.  They're everywhere.  The room is aglow in their 
soft light.

That huge bathtub is filled with clear blue water.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling lavender and 
vanilla.  It's a very sensual combination.

Mulder's idea of 'Santa stuff.'

I undress quickly and slip into the hot, silky water.  Closing 
my eyes, I lean back and try to figure out what to do about the 
conversation I overheard before.

"Is it okay?" he says quietly.  I didn't even hear him come in.

"Mmm..."

I feel something cold brush my hand, and I open my eyes -- a 
wine glass.  I glance at the nearby bottle and see the label of 
my favorite Chardonnay.  I take the glass from his outstretched 
hand.  He's kneeling next to the tub, still dressed, sipping 
from his own glass.  I lean over to kiss him, taking my time, 
tasting the wine on his lips.

"Join me?" I ask, releasing him.

He grins.  "I thought you'd never ask."

He stands and puts his wine glass on the side of the tub, then 
he slowly begins to undress.  I drink in the sight of him as the 
candlelight plays over the angles and planes of his body.  My 
God, this man is beautiful.

After he settles behind me in the tub, I reach around and draw 
him to me for another long, passionate kiss.  In moments like 
this, I wonder how I resisted kissing him as long as I did.  
Mulder's mouth is an instrument, and he's a virtuoso, not just 
on my mouth but everywhere.  His lips caress mine, his teeth nip 
at my tongue, his tongue skims along my teeth...  And while he's 
kissing me, I can feel him growing hard against my lower back.

His lips move to my ear, my neck, my shoulder... his kisses pour 
liquid fire on my skin.  His hands restlessly stroke my arms, my 
thighs, my stomach, my breasts.  His fingers tease my nipples to 
attention, incongruous in the hot water.

My hands touch as much of him as I can reach -- his legs, his 
arms, his hands.  My fingers bury themselves in his hair, 
holding him to me so his kisses won't stop.  I take one of his 
wandering hands and plunge it between my thighs, to show him 
what he does to me, what he's always done to me.  By now he's 
fully erect behind me, and oh God I want him inside...

"Scully," he rasps at my ear, "God, Scully, you're so 
beautiful."  The sound of his voice, rough with desire, makes me 
shiver.  He massages my core, first one finger then two moving 
deep within me.  With his other hand, he tugs and tweaks and 
pinches my nipples, driving my arousal higher and higher.  I 
arch against his hands, wanting more, needing more...

And he gives me what I need.

To know that I fly apart at his touch... I love this man more 
than life.

Still trembling, I find myself wrapped in his arms, his lips on 
my neck.  He whispers against my skin, passionate words of love 
and desire.  I feel him, rock-hard at my back, delaying his own 
release as I recover from mine.

Turning a little in his arms, I raise a shaky hand to his face.  
He leans into my touch, kissing my palm as my fingers trace his 
features.  Still unsure of my voice, I have to tell him.  
"...love you, Mulder..."

He smiles, holds me tighter.  "Love you, Scully.  So much."  He 
kisses me then, a slow and romantic kiss that belies the urgency 
of his need.  When the kiss ends, somehow I find the words and 
murmur them against his lips...

"Marry me."

The important ones spoken, the rest of the words just tumble 
out.

"Love you... want you... need you, God, Mulder, need you 
forever... please... say yes..."

He pulls back a little, searching my eyes.  I hope he can see 
the depth of my love there.  The ghost of a smile plays at his 
lips as he leans in and kisses me, feather-light.  The tickle of 
his mouth is delightful, but not nearly as delightful as his 
whispered reply.

"Yes."

*   *   *   *   *

I don't know exactly how we got from the bathtub to the bed -- 
all I know is that what was begun in silky blue water was 
completed in soft gray flannel.

Some time later I drift up from sleep, Mulder's strong arms 
cradling me.  He's awake, and he presses a kiss into my hair.  I 
give him a drowsy hum in response and shift to face him, and the 
next little while is spent just touching and caressing each 
other.  Loving each other.

Finally he pulls away a bit and looks into my eyes.  "Did you 
mean it?"

His brow is furrowed and doubt clouds his expression.  Still, 
his question surprises me.  "Of course I meant it."

"Why now?"

Why now, indeed.  Do I tell him I heard his conversation with 
Sara, even though I'd planned to ask him all along?  Or do I 
tell him what's been in my heart for so long, what I've fought 
for the eight years since he was returned, what finally drew me 
here to him from Boston?

"Because... because I finally realized that I can't live without 
you.  Because I love you.  And I want to honor that love by 
becoming your wife."  I smile up at him -- his doubt is gone, 
replaced by a gentle smile of his own.  "Is that terribly old-
fashioned of me?"

"Yes," he laughs.  "But I feel exactly the same way."

We share another kiss, then another, then several more.  
Suddenly Mulder releases me and rolls over, reaching into the 
drawer of his nightstand.  "I have something for you," he tells 
me, returning with a small gift-wrapped box.  "I was going to 
save it for tomorrow, but... well..."

I sit up and take the box.  He moves behind me, his chin on my 
shoulder, and watches as I unwrap it.  It's dark velvet, square-
ish -- a jewelry box, but too big for a ring.  I glance at him 
but he just motions toward the box, so I open it.

A tiny gold cross necklace sits inside.

Like the one I wore every day until he left for Oregon fourteen 
years ago.  Like the one Sara's worn since her eighth birthday.

My hands are trembling, so he removes it from the box and 
fastens it around my neck.  He turns me around, then leans down 
to kiss me there, in the hollow of my throat, where the cross 
lies.

"Merry Christmas, Scully."

He lays me back, then rests his head on my chest, above my 
heart.  I stroke his hair and hold him tight.  I never want to 
let him go.

"Merry Christmas, Mulder."

END

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER:  What else don't I own?  Macy's, 'A 
Charlie Brown Christmas,' 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas,' 
'Silent Night, Deadly Night,' 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,' 
and 'A Christmas Story.'

ADDITIONAL AUTHOR'S NOTES:  Yes, there's more coming.  
Eventually. <g>

Major props to jeri and Mel for beta services above and beyond 
the call.  Thanks to IWTB for constant inspiration and support.  
Extra special thanks to those of you who kept after me about 
this one.  I hope it lives up to your expectations.