TITLE: Not So Silent Night
AUTHOR: Menagerie
EMAIL: menageri@linkline.com
WEBSITE: http://menagerie.gq.nu/
FEEDBACK: Feedback feeds the lonely writer!
ARCHIVE: Yes, please just tell me where first so I can come
and preen!
SPOILERS: S9, through NIHT
CLASSIFICATION: S
KEYWORDS: MSR, Babyfic, Holiday
RATING: NC-17 NO kiddies, please!
DISCLAIMER: We are just having some fun here. I don't own
'em and everyone knows it.
SUMMARY: It's Will's first Christmas and Scully gets a
Christmassurprise!
The whole thing was a travesty, and she was sick of it.
Sick of the lies. The double-talk. The sneaking around and
the whispers. She was thoroughly sick of it all.
Scully ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes
briefly, shutting out the image of the shattered phone on
the floor across the living room. She hadn't meant to take
it out on Langley. God knows he was just trying to help
her. Trying to protect her as the all the Gunmen did. He
was just at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong
answer to her question.
She didn't need to look at a calendar to know that it had
been 189 days since she had seen Mulder. One hundred and
eighty-eight nights alone. There was the occasional random
email. One phone call that had made her throat ache so
badly that she had sounded like she had a two pack a day
habit.
But to keep William and her safe the contact had been
sporadic and limited. She had no idea where he was and she
wasn't sure if even the Gunmen really knew. He moved
frequently and without warning. Byers had mentioned that he
was using three different alias', rotating which one he used
where. He was doing whatever it took to make him impossible
to find.
Which was a major part of her problem. It was the
Christmas season. Revelers were everywhere she turned.
Steely-eyed women crowded the mall determined to ignore the
sagging economy and bring brightly colored packages home to
their loved ones anyway. Every other person at work was
hosting a holiday party and they really wanted her to come.
Her mother was so exuberant about her grandson's first
Christmas that she had issued an ultimatum to the rest of
the Scully clan; be home for Christmas or else. Bill and
Charlie had dutifully promised to arrive en famile no later
than Christmas Eve.
There were crisp green Christmas trees on every corner.
Steaming mugs of cider in every office. Festive tunes
blasting away through every store. And toys. Finally,
after all these years of waiting, she had a child of her own
to buy all those neat new toys for. Little Christmas
outfits abounded; too many to chose from. And pictures.
She had to get his first Christmas picture taken.
But, in the meantime, all she could think about was how
much this Christmas was going to hurt. She had the baby of
her dreams, but his father was gone. Lost somewhere in a
mist of intrigue and danger.
And she hated it. She hated it more than being given
cancer, more than being left "barren". She hated it more
than Missy's death and more than her permanently Spookified
reputation. She just wanted Mulder back.
Why was she doing all of this. What was the point of having
a child with him if they couldn't enjoy him together? What
was the point of his first smile, learning to roll over or
sit up if his father didn't get to witness it? She had
taken so many pictures, so many videos of him so that Mulder
could see them someday. But it would never be the same.
There was only one picture of Mulder with his infant son.
She had snapped it quickly the morning he had left. Mulder
had sat on her couch, holding William out in front of him,
the baby's downy head cradled in his hands, the tiny feet
beating against his chest. God, how her heart had hurt,
seeing that beautiful image and knowing that it would be the
last time...the last time the two of them would be together
for a long, long time. The next time Mulder held his son,
he wouldn't even recognize him.
She had made three copies of the picture. One sat framed on
her desk at Quantico. She knew it was the source of many
rumors. She didn't care. The second one was hanging next
to William's crib where he could see it. The third one she
carried with her everywhere. It was her touchstone and her
constant, until he came home.
She scrubbed at her eyes and glanced at the clock. William
would be up from his afternoon nap soon and she still had
cleaning to do. She didn't know why she had stopped in the
middle of dusting the living room to call the Gunmen and ask
about reaching Mulder. Her hand had been on the phone
before she had realized she was acting on her deep-seated
desire. That they couldn't tell her how to reach him had
not been the answer she had wanted. She had screamed
something unintelligible at poor, defenseless Langley before
hurling the phone across the room.
She was just sick of it.
*******************
Langley turned from the monitor and glowered at Frohike.
"This is not a good idea, man. Scully's gonna fry our nuts
when she finds out about this."
Frohike scowled at Langley.
"Just shut-up and type."
"She was just having a hormonal moment. I'm telling you,
dude. If we compromise Mulder's location and something
happens to him..."
"Nothing is going to happen to him," Frohike insisted, his
eyes darting over the screen. "Just send the message."
"We don't even know if he still uses this account! And if
someone traced it to him..."
"Then they don't know anything more than they did before.
Mulder's the only one that knows this code."
Langley snorted and clicked the send icon.
"It's not major cryptography, Frohike. A half-wit could
figure it out."
Frohike crossed his arms across his chest.
"Exactly why there's no danger of any of the Feds figuring
it out."
*************************
"Dana, please just consider coming. It will be good for
you. You'll have fun."
"Mom," Scully pinched the bridge of her nose between her
fingers and willed the headache away. She had been having
one on and off for almost a week now and if it didn't
dissipate soon she was going to have to give in and see
someone. It wasn't the cancer coming back. She knew that.
She could **feel** that. It was stress, most likely. But
it wasn't like her to manifest stress this way.
"Mom," Scully said again. "It's just that I like to spend
the weekends with Will. I feel bad enough leaving him with
Belle during the week-"
"So, bring him! Everyone is dying to see him. Come on,
Dana. You only have to come for a couple of hours then you
can go back to hiding in your apartment."
"Mom, I do not hide in my apartment."
"Well, I don't know what else you call it. You go to work
and you go home. When was the last time you went out to
dinner, or a movie? Having a baby doesn't mean you can't
have a life."
Scully laughed. Then she laughed again. Oh, if her mother
only knew.
"What's so funny?" Maggie demanded.
"Mom, I didn't have a life before I had Will. If anything,
I have more of a life now. I take him to the park. I'm
always at the store buying something new for him. I see you
at least twice a week. I would think you'd be tickled."
"I am thrilled to see you and Will. But there is life
outside your house and mine. So, how about coming to this
party at Jean's?"
"Mom, I just...I just don't feel like celebrating. I
just...want to stay home with Will."
Maggie sighed.
"It's Mulder. I know you miss him, Dana. But Fox would
not want you to stay holed up in your apartment alone."
"Why not?" Scully snapped. "Do you suppose he's out on
the town wherever he is? Think he's having the time of his
life? I can guarantee you, Mom, that he is sitting in some
dark little hole of an apartment somewhere right now.
Alone."
"So you have to do the same thing?" Maggie challenged, her
voice cracking with emotion. "He's suffering, so you have
to, too? That's not what he would want for you, Dana. He's
out there so you and Will can have a life, not so you can
squander one!"
Scully felt tears pricking behind her eyes and she blinked
them back. She did not want to fight with her mother. This
Christmas was going to be lousy enough, she didn't need this
as well.
"Mom," she said and cleared her throat to make her voice
clear and strong. "I'm not punishing myself, or Will. I
just don't feel like partying. I don't feel like going out
on the town. I miss him. I miss what he's missing with
Will and... that's it."
Maggie sighed.
"I know you miss him, honey. We all do." She paused for a
moment. "So, will I see you on Thursday after work, then?
I'll make dinner."
Scully heaved a sigh of relief.
"Yes. I'll see you then."
*****************************
"There's my little man!" Maggie Scully exclaimed as she
scooped a grinning William out of his mother's arms. "How's
my little grandson?"
William shrieked in response and grabbed at his
grandmother's nose. She laughed and kissed his chubby
fist. Scully smiled as the two played their familiar game.
This child was nothing if not loved.
They went into Maggie's immaculate living room. A huge blue
fir dominated the corner, decked out with tinsel and lights
and glass ornaments. They had decorated it two weeks before
with Christmas carols playing in the background and William
cooing in his playpen. They had eaten warm snickerdoodles
and drank tea and laughed over old Christmas photos. It had
been a good day.
Now it was less than a week until Christmas and stacks of
gifts were piling up under the tree. With just a quick
glance she could tell that a disproportionate number of them
were for Will. There would be even more once her brothers
arrived. The new baby in the Scully family always got
deluged at Christmas. It was a Scully tradition.
She turned away from the tree, stripping off her jacket to
watch Maggie carefully doing the same to Will. The baby
gurgled and kicked cheerfully as she tried to tug the
baby-sized Knicks jacket off of him.
"Let me guess," Maggie said, as she successfully extricated
the baby from the jacket. "The Gunmen gave Will an early
Christmas present."
"Yes," Scully said, taking the tiny jacket from her mother.
"They said that it was their responsibility to provide the
essential masculine influence for Will in Mulder's absence."
Maggie snorted indelicately and lifted the baby to her
shoulder where he promptly grabbed a fistful of her hair.
"I suppose they'll teach him how to hack into a computer
before he gets to kindergarten."
Scully's eyebrows rose and she chuckled.
"Yes. Most likely."
"Hmm," Maggie said. "How about some tea? Dinner won't be
ready for about an hour."
"Sounds good."
They were halfway through the lasagna when the storm hit
with a thunderous rattle of the windows. Maggie and Scully
both jumped as the sharp spits of ice crackled against the
window. They searched each other's faces and both saw a
mixture of surprise and trepidation.
Scully went to the window and pulled back the linen
curtain. In the dim glow of the front porchlight she could
see the shower of sleet as it sliced through the air.
"It's an ice storm," Scully said, wonderingly. "I don't
remember hearing anything about one in the weather
forecast."
Maggie humphed and wiped her mouth with her napkin.
"Your father used to say meteorology was fifty percent
guesswork and fifty percent luck. I'd have to agree."
Scully smiled at the mention of Ahab. She had been thinking
a lot about him this Christmas season. He would have loved
to see her with Will, although he would have strongly
disapproved of Mulder's absence. She didn't know if it was
pathetic, but she had already argued it out with him in her
head. 'It's no different than you going to sea for months
on end and leaving Mom with the four of us,' she told her
phantom father. 'Mulder is doing what is best for his
family, just like you did.'
In her mind's eye she saw her father's slight frown, the
purse of his lips as he considered a point he'd rather not.
Then he would nod and slap his hands on his knees to
indicate that the matter was solved. Then she would hand
him Will and they would talk about Christmas plans.
"I think you and Will had better stay the night," Maggie
said as she cut off another bite of lasagna.
Scully frowned and looked back out the window.
"Actually, if I leave now, I should be alright. I'll get
home before there's a covering on the roads."
"But who knows where the storm hit first," Maggie theorized
around her fork. "The roads into D.C. could already be
bad. And it doesn't take long with sleet."
Scully nodded and resumed her place at the table. She
didn't like the idea of playing beat the clock with Will in
the car. If it was just her, she would have gone and not
thought twice about it. But the thought of going off the
road or being stranded at night with him put a prickle all
over her skin.
"You're right," Scully said, picking up her fork again.
"It's not worth the risk." She shot her mother a knowing
look from under her lashes. "I'm sure you're heartbroken."
"Devastated," Maggie said with a smile. "Now I have a
better chance of talking you into a piece of that
gingerbread cake in the kitchen."
Scully rolled her eyes.
"I suppose you made whipped cream to go along with it?"
Maggie grinned.
"Your favorite."
Scully groaned.
"Mom, I'm trying to **lose** my pregnancy weight, not gain
it all back."
Maggie laughed.
"You'll never lose all of it, Honey. Trust me."
=======================
Despite the inconvenience of not having all of Will's things
and not sleeping in her own bed, Scully snuggled down under
the old quilt and smiled. Will was peacefully asleep in the
crib that her mother had set-up for the times when she
babysat him. Outside the storm raged, but they were both
warm and comfortable and safe. Sleepily, Scully mused that
she would probably have to call in to work tomorrow. Even
if the storm did abate during the night, the roads were sure
to be a mess and she wasn't going to risk Will trying to
rush to work.
Visions of a home cooked breakfast and a day spent wrapping
gifts with her mother danced behind Scully's eyelids as she
drifted off to sleep, the wind and ice blowing harmlessly
outside her window.
She was on a couch - a leather couch - and she was laughing
about something. There was a fire crackling in a fireplace
nearby. She could hear the snap and hiss of the water as it
escaped from the burning wood and feel the shadows of the
flames as they played across her face. She was warm and
happy. A light surrounded her, suffused her, lifted her
soul up.
She was looking up now. At someone. She couldn't see the
person clearly, could only make out their lanky frame. It
was Mulder. She knew his outline. He was there, so close,
and yet just outside her reach. She was smiling at him,
reaching out for him...
A cool breeze brushed across her face and she turned away
from him, a frown puckering her brow. There shouldn't be a
breeze. They were inside. Safe and warm and happy. Will
was just in the other room. They were together and
everything was alright.
Scully's eyes snapped open and she stifled the gasp that
hovered in her throat. The room was black, not even a
shadow or an outline floated in front of her eyes. But she
knew she was not alone. Someone was in the room.
She lay perfectly still on the bed, not daring even to
breathe, waiting for something to tell her who it was. The
same instinct that told her someone was there also told her
it was not her mother. Her mind raced into the desperate
action she denied her taut muscles. Her gun, where was her
gun?
Fuck! She had left it in the car! It made her mother
nervous, and she couldn't imagine needing it here. Not at
her mother's house!
Fool! Idiot! Mulder vanishes for six months, gives up his
life, his son, everything, to protect Will and you're too
lazy to carry your gun! You're more worried about your
mother's sensibilities than your son's life, and now it's
going to cost you. Damn! Damn! DAMN!
Desperately she searched her mind for an inventory of the
nightstand. A bible. A phone. A glass of water she had
brought to bed with her. She strained her ears for the
tiniest sound; some indication of where the intruder was.
If she could hit him with the glass, throw him off for a
moment, she could knock him to the ground and make it a fair
fight.
She heard a barely perceptible rustle behind her and her
heart clenched in her chest. He was by the crib, maybe
reaching in to take Will as she laid there cursing herself.
The thought of her baby in some stranger's hands, taken off
to God knows where, to die or be experimented on, stole the
breath from her lungs.
Willing herself to move slowly and calmly she reached out
in the dark with her fingers, searching blindly for the
smooth coolness of the glass. Her fingers curled around the
tall cylinder and she pulled it to her. Quickly she rolled
over onto her back and then to her left side, grinding her
teeth at the soft whisper of the bed linens. She worked
herself out from the covers and sent a wordless prayer
heavenwards as she prepared to spring. She was only going
to get one chance at this...
She heard the rustle of clothing again and she launched
herself at the sound. The glass flew from her hand and she
heard the thunk and a grunt of pain as it struck its
target. She dove into the darkness and crashed into a solid
wall of flesh that nonetheless gave under her momentum.
They fell wordlessly to the ground. Her hands searched
desperately for a purchase on him even as her mind told her
she was in trouble. He was big, and strong, and she had to
get the advantage quickly or he would overpower her. She
aimed a punch at where she thought his face was...
"Ouch!"
Her knuckles barely grazed his chin but it was enough to
prompt her silent attacker into an exclamation. She felt a
thrill of triumph even as the voice registered in her mind.
He sounded familiar...
"Jesus, Scully! It's me!"
She gasped then, her hands reached out blindly to his face,
stroking quickly and urgently over its planes. He flinched
at her first touch and then his hands were covering hers.
"Mulder? Mulder, is it you?" Scully breathed.
A sudden bright light blinded both of them. Scully looked
up to see her mother, eyes and hair wild, clenching a
baseball bat, one hand still on the light switch. She gaped
at her mother's savage, determined expression before
Mulder's hand on her own yanked her gaze downwards.
He was half leaning against the wall where she had knocked
him. She was half astride him, one leg thrown out to
balance herself. A bright red spot shone on his forehead
where the glass had hit him and a corresponding spot
decorated the corner of his chin.
Scully looked into his eyes. Into his beautiful hazel eyes
that were regarding her with a mixture of amusement and love
and she threw herself down onto his chest and sobbed.
She hiccuped and took another sip of the tea. Her eyes
wandered to the crib but Will was still sound asleep. Well,
there was no longer any question which parent he took after
in the sleeping department. Armageddon could commence
around his crib and he wouldn't even twitch.
Not even his father's tentative caresses could wake him.
Mulder hovered near the crib, gazing down at his son as if
he couldn't believe what he saw. His long fingers danced
over the baby's soft curls, across his smooth cheek. He
placed his hand on the baby's chest, watching it rise and
fall as if it were the eighth wonder of the world.
He caught her looking and they smiled softly, shyly at one
another. To Mulder, Will was three days old. That was how
long they had had together. Updates, emails, they didn't
count. This was his third day with his son.
Mulder pulled himself from Will's side and sat down on the
edge of the bed next to her.
"Feeling better?"
She smiled into her cup and nodded sheepishly. She felt
stupid for her outburst, but there had been nothing she
could do about it. She had lain there, sprawled across his
chest, sobbing uncontrollably while he held her and soothed
her, whispering words of love in her ear. Maggie had gone
to make tea, claiming that it would help calm everyone down
and leaving them to their reunion.
Finally, she had been able to stop the tears and had hugged
him against her, hands roving over his back, along his ribs,
verifying for herself that he was real. Mulder had picked
them both up and sat down on the bed, cradling her much as
she often held their son. She had burrowed her face against
his chest, snuffling, her fingers clenching handfuls of his
sweater. He felt so good. He felt so right. Not until her
senses were reeling with his touch, his scent, his voice did
she realize just how empty she had been all these months.
The pain of it tore through her.
And so her mother had brought tea and Scully had slid off
of his lap to accept the steaming beverage and offer her
mother a soft word of thanks. Maggie had leaned over and
kissed her on the crown of her head and then done the same
to Mulder before turning and walking out of the room,
pulling the door shut behind her.
Now the only sounds in the room were the deep even sounds
of Will's breathing and the uneven hitching of her own. She
took another sip of tea and put it on the nightstand. She
sighed heavily, letting her eyes fall close for a moment,
willing the tension to leave.
"I'm sorry," he said, again. "I didn't mean to scare you.
I thought I was being quiet."
She opened her eyes and smiled at him.
"You were quiet. I just don't sleep as soundly anymore."
"You're used to listening for him," Mulder said simply and
she nodded. Then she raised her hand and gently traced the
curve of his cheek, the outline of his lips.
"I have missed you so much," she whispered. "I had no idea
just how much until I realized you were here. When I heard
your voice...I just - cracked."
She wasn't sure which of them moved first. Perhaps they
moved in unison as they had so many times before. Suddenly
she was in his tight embrace and his lips were pressed to
hers. She opened her mouth to him, her tongue darting
forward to seek his. Their tongues dueled for a moment,
seeking the same rhythm before moving into a caressing
dance. Fire swept through her veins and she pressed herself
still closer to him.
Her hands raced over his chest, his stomach, and around his
back, her fingers hungry for every inch, every millimeter of
his flesh. Wordlessly she tugged at his sweater and in one
smooth motion he tugged it up over his head and threw it
aside. Her fingers were already working the button on his
jeans and then the zipper. For a brief moment she wondered
about Will hearing them and then pushed that thought aside.
Special traits or not, there could be no way it would be bad
for their son to finally see his two parents loving each
other.
They dispatched the rest of his clothing into the nether
regions of the room, quickly followed by the silky nightgown
she had borrowed from her mother. Flesh pressed to flesh
they tumbled back into the bed, Mulder's dark outline rising
above her in the faint glow of the lamplight.
She kissed his face, her tongue dragging along the ragged
stubble of his new beard. She nibbled on one earlobe and
was rewarded with a gasp and his fingers tightening on her
waist where they were busy rubbing and exploring her. She
suckled on his chin with exquisite care, kissing the spot
where she had punched him, and then swept back up to his
cheekbones, whispering over his eye lashes and finally back
to his swollen, warm lips.
He pressed her harder into the mattress, their tongues once
again tangled and she felt a surge of wet heat between her
thighs. In some foggy part of her brain she acknowledged
the physicality of this. The dreams and fantasizes that she
had fed herself on all these months were becoming a
reality. But it was just loving more than anything. Just
loving, loving, loving.
"I love you," she whispered fiercely in his ear, gripping
his shoulders as if he might bolt away at the words. "I
love you so much."
If he was startled at her words, he gave no sign. Instead
he raked his fingers through her hair, pulling her head back
until her neck arched. He bent and tenderly kissed the soft
spot where her neck joined her shoulder and then looked up
into her eyes.
"I love you more than life," he said simply. "You are my
life."
They gazed into each other's eyes, frozen in the moment,
drinking in the love and the desire and the ultimate joy of
having finally come back together. Finally, when she
thought her heart would burst from the fullness of emotion,
she leaned up and kissed him.
"Mulder," she whispered against his lips.
He responded with a searing kiss, his hands moving to cup
her breasts. Then he was pulling one nipple into his mouth
and then the other and she threw her head back and moaned.
Oh God, it had been so long and she needed this so much.
As if the scene were orchestrated, they played each other's
bodies. Her hands slipped down across his chest, over his
stomach until her fingers brushed against the velvet steel
of his erection. He gasped and pulled back to give her
better access as she slid her fingers up and down his
shaft. She squeezed gently, sliding her hand back up,
pumping him, reveling in the gasps and moans that emerged
from his throat.
He reached down to caress her and she nudged his hands
away. She wanted him to pleasure her. She ached for it.
But for now she needed to feel his pleasure. She needed the
tactile proof that he ached as much as she did, that he
needed her as much as she needed him.
With a deft movement she rolled him onto his back and slid
down the bed, all the while keeping a firm grip on his
cock. He settled into the mattress, his arms limp at his
sides, his eyes slitted as he watched her straddle his legs
and lower her mouth to him.
His hips bucked up against her as her lips closed over his
throbbing head. She swirled her tongue around it, curving
it around the underside and sucking ever so gently. He
pushed up against her, his hands clenched in the sheets.
She ran her tongue quickly over the opening and was rewarded
with a salty drop of moisture. He was already so close.
With one hand around the base of him and the other cupping
his balls, she opened her throat and slowly took him in.
There was no way she could do all of it, but her hand,
pressed against her lips, substituted, slicked by the
moisture of her mouth. She took him deep and pulled back
up, sucking gently as she made her way back to his tip. She
swirled the head again and slid her mouth back down his
length. Under her, Mulder writhed, gasping wordless
exclamations.
She repeated this again and again, aware of the burning
tension building inside him. She felt his balls draw up
against his body, the sure sign that release was imminent.
She wanted to make him come, wanted to hear him howl with
the sweet fire of it.
But he was pulling on her shoulders, whispering her name
hoarsely and she allowed him to slide out of her mouth with
a last final caress. She knew what his urgent tugging was
for. He wanted to wait. More than this, he wanted to be
joined with her when he found his release.
She allowed him to pull her up his body, widening her legs
and she slid up, straddling him. He pulled her down on top
of him, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, his hand
gripping her ass, kneading the soft flesh he found there.
Their mouths merged again and again, hungry to convey the
desire, the need that consumed them both.
Then his long fingers traced their way down across her
stomach to her moist center and she tore her mouth from his
to cry out as he found her throbbing clit. Slowly, gently,
he stroked her from front to back, dipping his fingers into
the copious wetness he found there. Then his finger slid
forward to circle her nub once, twice, three times and she
felt her inner muscles clenching. Oh God, close, she was so
close. She rocked forward, willing him to enter her.
He obliged, slipping one finger and then two inside her and
she thought she was going to come right then. The sweet
friction against her sensitive walls sent sparks flying
along her spine and she pushed against him, urging him to go
deeper. He pulled back instead, slipping his fingers
forward to circle her clit again and she moaned with it, the
burning ache in the core of her becoming almost too much to
bear.
He circled, then slid back, plunging into her before
repeating the pattern again, each time a little less
gentle. She thrust against him, willing him to do it
harder, faster. She rose up over him, her hands on his
shoulders for balance, her head thrown back in the soft glow
of the room. More, she wanted more.
He acquiesced, sliding, circling, plunging harder and
faster until it felt like her muscles couldn't clench any
harder, her breath couldn't come any faster. She rocked
against him, willing it to happen, sobbing for him to take
her over the edge. He circled again and again and again and
stayed there until she felt the tremor start and she ground
down against him as her orgasm swept over her.
She cried out his name, thrusting against his hand as she
rocketed into paradise. The world exploded behind her
eyelids and she trembled with the force of it. Yes, this
was what she needed. Him, just him and her together, doing
this for the rest of their lives.
But it wasn't quite perfect. Not yet. Even as she
trembled in the grip of her release, she tugged his hand out
of the way, moving to put herself in the position, reaching
for him. He flipped them quickly and she wrapped her legs
around his waist, urging him to hurry with her hips.
He took himself in hand, guiding himself to her opening and
then with one long slow push he was inside her. Her walls
quaked around him and she cried out with the ecstasy of it
as he filled her to the hilt.
"Mulder, oh God, yes!" He plunged in and pulled back, only
to do it again. His breathing was ragged and she urged her
hips up to meet his as he pushed down, delighting in the
bump of his cock against her cervix. Again, she wanted that
again.
He stroked in and out, each thrust a little harder, a
little deeper. She pulled her legs up and he pressed them
against her chest giving him even deeper access. She groaned
her pleasure and pressed her head into the pillow, throwing
it from side to side. She was so close again. So close.
He increased his tempo, bumping the mouth to her womb each
time and she pushed up against him, willing him to come, to
find the relief and the joy that she had. She was close,
her muscled clenching around him, the burning between her
legs becoming unbearable and then she was flying again, her
slick walls quaking around him and it sent him flying too.
A roar tore from his throat as he gathered her against him,
and his body went rigid as he jetted into her.
=========================================
The morning sun was making a desperate attempt to appear
behind the curtain of gray that the sky had donned when Will
decided he had slept long enough. As always, his cry
started low, building to a hair raising thin crescendo that
threatened to fracture glass. Scully usually got to him
before that point. It was best for both of them that way.
But this morning, Will's mother was a little more exhausted
and a little more comfortable in her bed. He was in the
mezzo soprano range by the time she slitted her eyes open
and frowned at the unfamiliar wall. Next to her a soft
grunt and the press of warm flesh against her own brought
her into the present. Mulder. Here. Her dreams had come
true.
Will couldn't care less that his mother was having a
moment. He wanted his breakfast. Now. He sucked in
another lungful of air to re-assert his unhappiness when
Scully pushed back the covers.
"Is he always that loud?" Mulder asked sleepily, blinking
his hazel eyes in the dim light. "He gives my alarm clock a
run for its money."
Scully smiled as she lifted her red-faced son and cradled
him to her chest. Instantly, Will fell silent. He knew the
drill. Mommy picks him up. Mommy feeds him. Then it's new
diaper time followed by a lullaby and his bouncy chair.
Scully carried Will to the bed and placed him tummy first
on Mulder's chest. Father and son stared at each other,
each equally fascinated and discomfited by the change in
routine. Will screwed up his face to voice his displeasure,
but Mulder reached out and stroked his cheek and the little
boy paused, his blue eyes taking in the man's face.
"I think he recognizes you," Scully said hoarsely, blinking
back the tears that were threatening. Damn, when had she
gotten so weepy? But, what a perfect, beautiful picture.
This image would be burned into her memory forever.
"I think he doesn't know what to make of me," Mulder said
with a shy smile, running his hand over Will's soft curls.
"He looks so much like you, Scully."
Scully stretched out on her side next to them, her eyes
drifting from one face to the other.
"He has my coloring and my eyes, but he looks like you,
Mulder. He has your mouth and your chin."
"Please God, not my nose," Mulder said, tweaking the
aforementioned feature on Will's face, making the baby
giggle. Tears stung Mulder's eyes. "What a sound," he
murmured. "Every time I've heard a baby laugh, I've
wondered if he sounded like that."
"He laughs a lot," Scully said, smiling ruefully. "Unlike
his parents."
Mulder looked up at her, his eyes sad and winsome.
"We need to change that, Scully."
"Can we?" she asked, knowing he understood what she really
wanted to know.
Slowly, he shook his head. She bit her lip, determined not
to show just how crushing the disappointment was. She knew
it was unlikely, but she had hoped that this reunion was
permanent. She fought the idea of him going away again. Of
not knowing when, or God forbid, if, she would ever see him
again was too much to bear.
He squeezed her hand and she met his eyes, steeling herself
against the emotions that ran riot inside her.
"We will change that, Scully. I'm working on it every
minute of every day. It won't be much longer. I promise."
"You've made progress, then?"
He nodded.
"Some. I can't say that we will ever be totally safe-"
"No one ever is," she interjected. "That's impossible."
"Right. But I want it to be as safe as possible. I want
us to be able to sleep at night."
He waggled a finger at Will and the baby dutifully grabbed
it and directed it to his mouth, prompting a chuckle from
his father.
"But I have to come home soon, Scully. I can't stand much
more of this."
She nodded wordlessly, her eyes fastened on the long
slender finger that Will was industriously gumming. She
could handle it. If it was only for a little while longer,
she would persevere. Whatever it took to have them all
together. Finally.
"Ouch!" Mulder exclaimed, withdrawing his bruised,
glistening finger from Will's chubby grasp. "He's got
teeth?"
"He's working on it," Scully said with a grin.
Slowly Mulder pulled himself into a sitting position,
holding Will tentatively as if he might break, or bite
again.
"Then let's go feed this little tiger before he takes a
chunk out of me."
*****************************
They sat sipping coffee while Maggie bustled around the
kitchen making breakfast and Will cooed happily in his
bouncy seat. Mulder's eyes seemed glued to his son and
Scully took the opportunity to really look at him for the
first time since their erstwhile reunion at 3 AM.
He wore the familiar heather gray t-shirt that always made
him look like a co-ed. His hair was shorter than the last
time she had seen him, and she was sure she could see wisps
of gray at the temples. He had lost weight, too. Not too
much, but getting close to it. Scully surreptitiously
sniffed the air. Waffles and eggs. Maggie had already
decided Mulder was too thin and was setting about correcting
the problem.
Scully let her gaze wander over his face, taking in the new
lines, the shadows under his eyes. The past few months had
rapidly aged him, as had the year before. But he was still
beautiful. The aquiline profile, the intense hazel eyes.
They still made her heart swell with love and desire.
Her eyes wandered south, over his chest and arms, down to
his still taut stomach and his slender hips. He was still a
handsome man, no doubt about it. She felt a stab of
jealousy wondering how many women eyed him appreciatively
wherever he lived. Wondering who watched him out their
window, smiled coyly as he passed in the hallway. How many
women had invited him over for dinner, out to drinks? She
clenched her teeth just thinking about it.
She felt eyes on her and looked up to find Mulder's warm
gaze resting on her face. She flushed slightly and smiled
at him, delighted when he returned it with a megawatt grin.
"What?" she said, her eyes darting away to Will and back.
"You're beautiful," he said simply and then laughed when
she blinked at him in shock.
"Mulder!" she exclaimed, shooting a look at her mother's
decidedly amused profile.
"What's the matter, Scully?" Mulder teased. "I can't say
things like that? Or I just can't say them in front of your
mother?"
Scully reddened and actually squirmed in her chair before
stopping herself. She managed a glare at him before looking
away from his grin.
"It's just that you don't usually say things like that,"
she said lamely, wondering as she said it why she was
objecting to the man she loved calling her beautiful.
"I do, too!" Mulder insisted. "It's just usually in a
more...private setting."
Her eyes flew to his and he burst out laughing. On her
left, Maggie did the same, giggling furiously over the
waffle iron. Scully was sure her cheeks were as bright as
her hair at this point. She did glare at Mulder then, but
it only made him laugh harder. She harrumphed and turned to
play with Will's stockinged foot.
Mulder wiped at his eyes and shared a conspiratorial grin
with Maggie.
"I'm sorry, Scully. It's just that I've had several months
of wanting to say that stored up and I couldn't help
myself."
"Mhm," Scully murmured, still playing with Will, but a
smile was beginning to curl the edges of her mouth. Will
shrieked with pleasure as she tickled the bottom of his foot
and she could feel Mulder's twinkling eyes pulling at her.
She turned and gave him her best
glacial-don't-fuck-with-me-or-I'll-castrate-you look and
just when doubt was starting to crease his brow, she leaned
over and placed a chaste kiss on his full, pouting lips.
"I love you," she said simply and sat back to enjoy the
surprise and pleasure as they chased each other across his
features. He reached out and took her hand and she squeezed
his in return. In the background, she could hear Will's
gurgles and her mother's soft hum, but her eyes were only
for the man in front of her.
They had all settled into the living room with steaming mugs
of cider and Christmas carols on the stereo. Mulder was on
the floor playing with Will who seemed to find his father's
prominent nose fascinating. Mulder was keeping up a running
monologue about all the things that he and Will would do
together when Will got older and it was no surprise that
baseball and basketball figured prominently in those plans.
Scully helped her mother finish wrapping presents. The
unwrapped stack on her left was dwindling nicely and the
stack of her right was getting ridiculously high. She eyed
the gaily wrapped packages and was vaguely surprised to see
how nice they looked. How she had managed such a good job
without taking her eyes off of father and son was another
mystery worthy of the X-Files division.
She winced at the thought of the X-Files. She and Mulder
had not had a chance to talk about them, or anything else,
for that matter. She didn't know how he would feel about
Doggett and Reyes and the job they were doing. Given all
that had happened, she wasn't sure if he would care. But he
had put so many years into it. It had been their proving
ground, the reason for them coming together. She knew it
had to still matter to him on some level.
Maggie cleared her throat and Scully realized that Mulder
had fallen silent. He sat cross legged on the floor, Will
laying across his lap. The little boy's eyes were drifting
shut and Mulder was gently rocking him back and forth.
"You're a natural, Fox," Maggie said and smiled at him. "I
assure you Mr. William does not always go so gently into the
good night."
"I think I bored him into a stupor," Mulder said, brushing
back Will's curls. The baby briefly opened his eyes and let
them fall shut again.
"It's time for his morning nap," Scully said, making to
rise. "He can go in his crib upstairs."
Mulder gestured for her to sit down.
"Let me." He carefully pulled Will into his arms and rose
from the floor in one fluid motion, cracking knees
withstanding.
"On his back," Scully said. "With a blanket over him. And
turn on the baby monitor."
"Got it," Mulder said and moved to the stairs.
As soon as Mulder was out of sight, Maggie leaned over and
squeezed Scully's arm. Scully looked over at her and was
surprised to see tears in her mother's eyes.
"I don't know how you do it," Maggie said, hoarsely. "He's
such a wonderful father. To not have him with the two of
you..."
Scully leaned over and hugged her mother close, rocking her
much as she would Will. They clung to each other for a few
moments.
"It's worth it, Mom. To see them together, now. It's
worth it."
Maggie pulled back and smoothed her hair. She smiled
through her tears.
"Is he back for good? Is it over?"
Scully shook her head.
"No. I don't know how much longer we have to be apart."
She paused for a moment and sighed heavily. "I've been
afraid to ask."
Maggie watched her for a moment and then looked back down
at the half-wrapped present on the table in front of her.
"I can understand that. Believe me, I can."
Scully sighed again. "I need to find out, though. I don't
even know how he got here or how he knew I was here."
"The guys told me," Mulder said from the doorway. He came
into the room and handed Scully the baby monitor. On it she
could hear the steady even breathing of their son.
Scully frowned up at him.
"How did they know? I didn't tell them I was coming to see
Mom."
Mulder sank into the couch.
"I contacted them a couple of days ago and told them that I
was going to try to visit. They've been doing discreet
surveillance on you ever since. I was hoping you would be
coming to visit your mother. It's safer than the
apartment."
"When do you have to leave?," Scully asked dejectedly. She
had barely heard the part about the surveillance. The word
"visit" resounded in her head like a death knell.
He sighed and sat forward, running his fingers through his
hair. He looked up at her.
"It depends," he said. "The longer I can stay out of
sight, the better. I was hoping to be able to stay through
Christmas."
"Of course you will," Maggie said firmly, setting aside
another wrapped gift. "You just won't go outside."
"It's more than that," Scully said. "He could be seen
through a window." She looked at Mulder evenly, pushing
aside her emotions. "They could even have this house
bugged."
Mulder shook his head.
"The guys did a complete sweep yesterday while your mom was
grocery shopping." Mulder looked over at Maggie. "I'm
sorry, Maggie. It was necessary."
"I don't mind at all," Maggie said without missing a beat.
"Not if it means you and Dana and Will can have some time
together. We'll keep the curtains closed and just button up
the house. Whatever it takes."
"What about now?" Scully asked. "How did you get here?
How do you know you weren't followed."
"I'm sure I wasn't followed. There's no indication that
anyone knows where I'm living. We were very careful about
the pick-up and they've been watching the house since I got
here. If anyone comes close, they'll warn us."
Maggie sprang up.
"Those boys are outside in this weather? We have to take
them something warm to eat and drink. They must be frozen!"
"We can't, Mom," Scully said sharply and then curbed her
tone. "It would compromise their location and they wouldn't
be able to protect us."
"But," Maggie frowned. "There must be something we can
do! I hate to think of them out there alone..."
"They're take shifts," Mulder said. "And believe me,
they're well stocked with food and drink. I made sure of
it." He offered Maggie a wry smile. "I also invited them
to Christmas dinner here. I hope you don't mind."
Maggie smiled.
"Of course I don't mind, Fox. What a nice way to thank
them." She frowned then. "I think I better call the
butcher and order a bigger turkey, though. As I recall,
that blonde one can really eat."
Scully and Mulder both laughed. Over the monitor, Will's
soft breathing turned into a not-so-small snore and Maggie
joined in the laughter. Scully got up and went to the
couch. Mulder looked up at her, laughter dancing in his
eyes and she smiled at him as she slid easily on to his lap.
She watched him watching her as she twined her arms around
his neck. Slowly, she leaned forward and brushed his lips
with one soft, feathery kiss.
"Thank you, Mulder. Thank you for the best Christmas of my
life."
He reached up and stroked her cheek.
"So far. They're going to get better every year. I
promise."
She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his.
It was a huge promise and she had no idea how he could keep
it. But it didn't matter. She believed.
The End
Author's Notes: Okay, first of all, I confess to being a
Christmas nut, so this story was inevitable. As are all the
others I will eventually write. It's warm and fuzzy and
probably not very in character for our two favorite
characters. I know, I know. But, that's what Christmas is
about!!! That and lots of hot chocolate...
I found out yesterday that my novel, Tine Rua is nominated
for Best NC-17 MSR at the Spooky's. Thank you to everyone
who voted for me!!! Having seen the competition, I do not
expect to even place, but it is truly an honor to be
nominated!
I hope you all have a safe and happy Holiday season!
Menagerie
==========================================================
TITLE: A Merry Little Christmas (Sequel to Not So Silent
Night)
AUTHOR: Menagerie
EMAIL: menageri@linkline.com
WEBSITE: http://menagerie.gq.nu/ (Thank you, Aly!!!!)
FEEDBACK: Feedback feeds the lonely writer!
ARCHIVE: Yes, please just tell me where first so I can come
and visit
SPOILERS: S9, through NIHT, read the first one, "NSSN" or
you'll be lost! "NSSN" can be found on my website with a
great collage by Aly.
CLASSIFICATION: S, MSR
KEYWORDS: MSR, TLG, Sk, Babyfic, Holiday
RATING: NC-17 NO kiddies, please!
DISCLAIMER: We are just having some fun here. I don't own
'em and everyone knows it.
SUMMARY: Maggie Scully takes matters, and Christmas, into
her own hands.
"Have yourself a Merry little Christmas
May your heart be light.
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.
So, have yourself a Merry little Christmas now."
--"A Merry Little Christmas"
He took in her carefully composed face, her hands loosely
folded in her lap, her crisp, professional attire and felt
the strongest sense of déjà vu. His eyes darted away from
her face to the pictures on the wall, to his bookshelf, the
flag in the corner. He didn't know what to say to her and
damn if that didn't feel familiar. How did he tell her that
there wasn't anything more he could do, that once again all
they could do was wait?
He felt her eyes on him, watching, waiting. She clearly
wasn't going to leave until he said something, offered some
reassurance. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead as if the
pressure might solidify his thoughts. How to present this
with the right combination of sympathy, strength and
resignation...
"Mrs.-" he began.
"Maggie," she said firmly. "And I hope you don't mind if I
call you Walter. After all these years and all these
'incidents', I would think we are on a first name basis."
"Maggie," he repeated slowly, turning the name over in his
mouth. He sighed and sat back deeper in his chair. His
fingers itched to pick up a pen and tap it or flip it. Do
something to keep his hands for clenching.
"Maggie," he said again. "I know how you feel. I-"
"With all due respect, Walter, I don't think you do. Not
exactly. I know you care about Dana and Fox. You've shown
that many, many times. But she's my daughter, Walter. The
only one I have left, and it is killing me to see her like
this."
Maggie sat forward in the standard issue visitor's chair
and put her hand on the edge of his desk. Her eyes drilled
into his.
"She has a beautiful, wonderful baby and that's a miracle.
And she's grateful for him, as am I. But she can't enjoy
the wonder of being a new mother, can't really be a mother
as long as she not only has to look over her shoulder but
also wonder where Fox is and if he's going to be okay. It's
just too much."
"I know," he said simply. "And I am trying to help them as
much as I can-"
"I understand that," she interrupted. "And we've been over
this. I don't want the party line, Walter, and I don't want
to hear about national security or need-to-know or any other
bureaucratic crap. I understand that your hands are tied.
You have a career, a life to protect and I respect that. I
do. So what I am asking you is to tell me how I can help
them."
"Maggie, I-" he began and got no further.
"I am not some simple little housefrau, Walter Skinner,"
Maggie scolded. "I was the wife of a high ranking naval
officer and I know a few things about how this town works.
I also have connections. I haven't used them much with
regards to Dana and Fox because Dana has always made it
implicitly clear that she would not welcome my
interference. That's fine. I respect that, too. But the
time has come to take the gloves off, if you will, and there
is nothing, NOTHING that is going to stop me from trying to
correct this situation."
Walter stared at her, aware that his mouth was slightly
agape. He had a very, very bad feeling about this. From
the first time he had met Maggie Scully he had known where
Scully got her fierce independence and fortitude from.
Daddy might have been a badass soldier boy but Mommy was the
one made out of steel.
"Maggie, I, uh, I..." Now that she was willing to let him
talk, he didn't know what to say. A feeling of helplessness
was washing over him and his adrenal glands were calling a
red alert and sounding the call for adrenaline to come to
the rescue. He had to **do** something soon or he was going
to self combust.
"I know a nice French café not far from here," he heard
himself croak. "How about we continue this conversation
over lunch?"
***
Mulder yawned and stretched, opening his eyes long enough
to see the fading light through the curtains. He must have
slept a good couple of hours. He raised his head to see
that Will was no longer in the crib and grimaced. Not good
when the old man had to sleep longer than the kid.
He jackknifed himself into a sitting position and scrubbed
his hands through his hair, knowing it was standing up in
every direction. He had slept hard and could feel the dried
strings of saliva on his cheek. Oh yeah, that was sexy.
Not only did he spend his first afternoon with Scully in
over seven months sound asleep but he drooled on himself as
well.
He padded into the bathroom to wash his face and try to
control his hair. He scowled at the wisps of gray that
decorated his temples. He was too goddamn young to have
gray hair. He had a baby, for God's sake. He turned his
head one way and then the next. It wasn't that the gray
made him look bad...just old. Older. He wasn't ready to be
older. Not now when his life was about to really start.
He splashed his face with water and sucked in a mouthful to
rinse his teeth and spit it out.
"Hey you," Scully said from the doorway and their eyes met
in the mirror. He couldn't help it, he smiled at her and
she returned the favor, her blue eyes shining. "Sleep
well?"
"I must have," he said, drying his face. "I drooled all
over myself."
"Like father like son," she said lightly, her eyes
dancing. He rolled his eyes and she chuckled. "Ready for
your afternoon snack? Will's already had his."
Mulder turned to her and arched an eyebrow at her
suggestively.
"I'm always ready for a Scully snack," he said and it was
her turn for an eye roll.
"Mulderrr," she said. "Mom made a pecan pie. It's still
warm."
"Hmm," he said, fingering his chin. "Scully snack or pecan
pie? That's a tough decision..."
She smacked him lightly on the chest and turned back into
the bedroom.
"There's no decision to make. It's pecan pie or bust."
He followed her into the bedroom.
"Aw, c'mon, Scully. You said you missed me."
She gave him 'the look' as she smoothed the bedspread.
"I did miss you, Mulder. And if we weren't in my mother's
house with my brothers due to arrive any minute, I would
take you up on that snack. But as it is, I'm sure my mother
heard far too much last night."
He grinned wolfishly at that as he scooped up a pillow and
plumped it.
"Your mother was married to a seaman, Scully. She knows
what long separations do to a couple."
"Uh huh," Scully said, unconvinced. "That doesn't mean she
wants to listen to her daughter have sex. It certainly
doesn't mean that I want her to hear us having sex, either."
She walked to the door and he caught up to her in two quick
strides, wrapping his arms around her and bending to capture
her earlobe in his mouth. She squealed and wriggled to get
away from him.
"Mulder! Behave!" she hissed sotto voce.
"Relax," he murmured as he nuzzled her neck. "You have
nothing to worry about with your mom."
"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously. What had the
two of them been talking about over the breakfast dishes
while she had bathed and changed Will? Heaven only knew
what they had dreamed up...
"I just happen to know that your mother did NOT hear us
having sex last night."
She turned to face him, his arms still wrapped around her
waist.
"How do you know that?" she demanded, horrified. "You
talked to her about it?"
He snickered and kissed the end of her nose.
"No. But I was the first one downstairs this morning and I
just happened to see her putting blankets and a pillow back
in the closet. She slept on the couch last night."
"She what?" Scully said, wide eyed. "Why?"
He kissed her mole and then her lips.
"Because," he said, his breath tickling her skin and making
her shiver. "She was married to a navy man and she knows
what reunions are all about."
Scully leaned her forehead against his chest and moaned.
"I don't know what is worse. My mother hearing me having
sex or my mother just imagining me having sex."
He hugged her close and kissed the top of her head.
"Well, ask yourself, Scully. Would you rather hear Will
having sex, or would you rather just imagine it."
Scully knocked her head against his chest and sighed.
"Mulder, you do remember that I shot you once, don't you?"
***
Mulder was bouncing Will in his arms and dancing around to
Jingle Bell Rock when the front door burst open and the wind
blew in all 6'3" 215 pounds of Bill Scully Jr.
"Ho ho ho!" Bill exclaimed. "Merrrry Christmas!"
Bill strode into the living room, a seaman's bag stuffed
full of presents slung over his shoulder and a Santa cap
perched on his head. He went stock-still as his eyes locked
with Mulder's.
The two men stood staring at each other in silence. Bill's
face quickly turned an alarming shade of red and Mulder's
lips thinned as they eyed each other, waiting for the other
to make the first move. Behind Mulder, Scully rose from the
couch and moved between the two men.
The stand-off was broken by a mini-Bill whirlwind blasting
into the room.
"Aunt Dana!" Matty shrieked and threw himself into
Scully's arms. She laughed as she caught him and spun him
around.
"Shrimp!" she exclaimed. "Look how much you've grown!"
Matt giggled as she put him down.
"I'm not a shrimp anymore, Aunt Dana. Daddy says I'm going
to be big and strong like him." Matt turned to grin at his
father who tore his eyes away from Mulder long enough to
look down at his son and nod. Seeing the object of his
father's attention, Matt turned to Mulder.
"Wow, is that Will? He's really big now!"
"That's him," Scully said, ruffling Matt's hair. "He's
growing like a weed, just like you."
Matt's attention shifted to Mulder.
"Are you Mulder?"
"Yes, I am," Mulder said, smiling at the boy.
Matt tilted his head as he regarded the father and son
combo.
"Are you Will's daddy?"
"Matthew!" Bill snapped. "You don't ask questions like
that."
Matt frowned at his father.
"But why not? Mommy says that-"
"Nevermind what Mommy says," Bill said, hurriedly. "Come
on, we need to unload the car."
Matt looked back up at Mulder.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," he said very
formally, obviously well coached by his mother in these
matters. "I was just curious."
"It's okay, " Mulder said. His eyes flicked to Bill's
retreating back. "And the answer to your questions is yes,
I'm Will's daddy."
Mulder watched with satisfaction as Bill's back stiffened
and he paused in the doorway before stomping to the front
door. Beside him, Mulder heard Scully sigh.
***
"All I'm saying, Mulder, is don't egg him on," Scully
hissed. She blew a wayward piece of hair out of her eyes
and checked the bedroom doorway for the hundredth time. She
did NOT want Bill to see her and Mulder arguing.
"I **didn't** egg him on," Mulder insisted, lowering his
voice to a whisper when her eyebrow twitched at him again.
"I just answered Matty's question. Truthfully."
Scully's eyebrow did another dance.
"And you did it, knowing it would get to him. Damnit,
Mulder, I am not asking you to deny that Will is your son, I
just don't want you to mash it in Bill's face."
"Why not?" Mulder challenged, his hands on his hips. "He
doesn't treat me with kid gloves."
Scully opened her mouth to reply, but Mulder stopped her
with an upturned hand.
"I don't want to start trouble here, Scully. I want this
Christmas to be nice, too. More than anyone else. And I've
taken Bill's shit all these years and frankly, I've agreed
with some of the points that he's made. I have dragged you
into dangerous situations. It is my fault that you got
abducted and got cancer-"
"That is pure bullshit, Mulder. But we can chew that old
bone another time. The point is that I do want a pleasant
Christmas and we can't have that if you and Billy are
squaring off every five minutes."
Mulder sighed and looked away briefly before looking back
down at her.
"All I'm saying is that before it didn't really matter what
Bill thought of me. I didn't like putting you in that
situation, but I took his crap because it wasn't worth the
trouble to give it back to him. But this is different,
Scully. I'm not going to apologize for Will, or being his
father, or for being with you. And I know it's Christmas
and the time for forgiveness and all that, but it is also
the time to set some boundaries for your brother. I won't
have Will growing up thinking I'm a wuss and his uncle is a
bully."
Scully offered him a wan smile.
"His uncle is a bully, but his father is not a wuss. I
hear what you're saying, Mulder. And I know Bill is making
it very hard. But please try. For Mom, for me. I don't
want you to bow to him, just give a little. Okay?"
He nodded tightly. She reached out and stroked his chest,
looking up at him with her clear blue eyes, knowing that the
combination would take the fight out of him.
"And for what it's worth, Mulder," she said with a small
smile. "I can't tell you how much I love hearing you talk
about our future together. We've never had a chance to talk
about what was going to really happen when you came back."
"Details," he said quietly. "That's all there is to work
out. You're stuck with me for good, Scully. I guarantee
it."
She proffered him one of her rare blinding smiles.
"And you're stuck with me." She grinned even wider. "And
my family."
Mulder groaned as she tugged him towards the stairs and the
Scully clan.
***
He straightened his tie and picked up his tie tack. He
wanted to look just right for this lunch. Not so long ago,
it would never have occurred to him to think about Maggie in
this way. It was totally out of bounds. But now, things
were different, and he had been thrilled when she had called
and asked him out to lunch.
He checked himself in the mirror and frowned. Too formal.
He stepped back and pivoted to one side and then the other.
It was too much for a lunch. For dinner, a suit would be
appropriate. Of course, in the old days, a suit would have
been required for both. But he suspected that despite her
traditional manner and conservative faith, Maggie Scully
kept up quite nicely with the times. It wasn't likely that
she was coming to this lunch in chiffon and pearls.
He strode briskly to the closet and began perusing its
meager selection. He wasn't much of a clothes horse, never
had been. Perhaps the early military life had ingrained
that in him. Keep it simple and necessary.
He hadn't seen Maggie in a long time and he wondered what
she would look like. In his mind's eye he saw her slender
figure and thick brown hair. She had always had such an air
of grace about her. He was betting that she still did.
He didn't quite know what to think of her invitation, out
of the blue as it was. But the sound of her voice and the
suggestion of lunch together had stirred something in him
that had been dormant for over two years. He had eagerly
accepted her invitation and decided to wait and see what she
wanted.
He chose a maroon sweater and a gray button shirt to go
under it. Ruth had given them to him on their last
Christmas. She hadn't been able to do much shopping that
year. The cancer was moving fast. But she had still found
a way to get him these. 'They set off your silver hair so
nicely,' she had said. It hurt to think about her wasted
frame swallowed by the recliner as she sat next to the
Christmas tree in the family room. Six weeks later she was
dead.
He checked himself in the mirror again, smoothing an
invisible hair back, and picked up his keys.
***
Maggie smiled graciously at the young man who held the door
for her. She slipped into the restaurant, her eyes
searching for the familiar form. He stood, rather stiffly,
next to a lavishly decorated Christmas tree. They saw each
other at the same time and smiled, moving towards one
another.
He pulled her into a fond embrace and she was reminded how
tall he was. She pulled back and smiled up into his
expectant face.
"Phil, it is so good to see you. Thank you for accepting
my invitation."
"It's great to see you, Maggie. I was so pleased when you
called." He turned and nodded at the hostess who
immediately picked up two menus and asked for them to follow
her. Maggie's eyebrows raised as they were ushered past the
several other people waiting for tables. Clearly, some
things had not changed with Phil's retirement.
They were seated at a table with a view and had ordered
their meals while playing catch-up with each other's lives
and families. By the time the entrees arrived a comfortable
rapport was established and Maggie took a deep breath and
dove right in.
"Phil, I'm sure you're wondering why I called you out of
the blue like this," she said, pushing her Chinese chicken
salad around her plate. "And I do apologize for pulling you
away from your family around the holidays."
He tilted his head to one side and favored her with a slow,
easy smile. In his heyday that smile had made many a pretty
woman blush and he was delighted to see her eyes widen
slightly. Forget the new tricks, this dog had some pretty
good old tricks. "I did wonder why you called me," he said
with a half smile, watching as it dawned on her that he was
indeed flirting with her. "But I was happy to hear from
you. The girls don't even get into town until tomorrow
night. I was just rattling around that big old house by
myself."
Maggie cleared her throat and looked out the window for a
quick moment before bringing her gaze back to him.
"I called you because I was hoping that you could help me
with a problem." She paused. "It has to do with Dana."
He frowned as he cut into his food.
"Dana was always pretty straight-laced, as I recall. What
sort of trouble is she in?"
"Well," Maggie looked down at her hands. "It's hard to
explain. There's a problem in the Bureau and-"
"I thought she was teaching at Quantico now."
"She is and she loves it. I really think she does. But,
well, during the time that she was assigned to the X-Files,
she and her partner stirred up some pretty big hornet's
nests."
"Mulder, right?" He asked. "A bit of a loose canon as I
recall. Believed in aliens or something like that."
"Yes," Maggie said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.
"But that really isn't the point. Fox - Mulder - left the
Bureau almost a year ago. He was forced out, really. And
he and Dana have uncovered evidence of some sort of
conspiracy in the government and apparently it runs deep in
the FBI." She balled her hands into fists and sought Phil's
eyes. "Their lives have been threatened because of it."
He put his fork down.
"By who?"
Maggie shrugged. "I don't know names, but I know these are
people who work for the government, for the FBI and heaven
knows who else. It got so bad that Mulder had to go into
hiding to keep him and Dana safe." She leaned forward,
piercing him with her intensity. "It has to stop, Phil.
Dana can't live her whole life with this shadow over her.
And she has a son to think of now."
"I assume they've tried to go through official channels?"
Maggie snorted and gestured dismissively.
"For all the good it did. They suspect that one of their
superiors is in on it. And Walter agrees but-"
"Walter?" Phil interjected. "Walter Skinner?"
"Yes," Maggie said. "I've talked to him."
"There's not much he can do to help you, Maggie. I don't
think he even realizes just how close he is to getting the
boot himself. Some people in high places have a real axe to
grind with him."
Maggie eyed him.
"So, you're still in contact with people then? You keep
abreast of what's going on."
It was his turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat. This
was not turning out to the be lunch date he had been hoping
for. He could already see that his plans to follow up a
friendly lunch with an intimate dinner and possibly a trip
to the Cape for the New Year were going to go nowhere.
"I still see some of the guys," he admitted. "We play
golf, cards, that sort of thing."
"The old boys club," Maggie said factually and he grimaced
despite her lack of censure. It was as true now as fifty
years ago. Sure, there were women in the Agency and the
Bureau these days, but the men still made the decisions.
The door to the insider's club was still firmly barred.
"I need your help, Phil," Maggie said softly. "I need to
find out who exactly is threatening them and put a stop to
it."
"Oh Maggie," he said. "You don't realize what you're
talking about. First of all, we don't even know if there
is a real threat. I've heard that Mulder guy is pretty
paranoid. And secondly-"
"The threats are real, Phil," she said sternly. "Mulder
wouldn't leave his family behind if he and Dana didn't think
they were in real danger."
Phil frowned and sat back in his seat.
"Family? Do you mean-is Mulder the father of Dana's baby?"
Maggie pursed her lips and regarded him coolly.
"I believe that falls under the need-to-know category,
Phil."
He nodded, impressed with her poker face and her skillful
feint. He had heard the rumors of course, and paid
attention only because they concerned the daughter of an old
friend. By the time Mulder had come along Phil had already
decided that despite the desires of others, the Directorship
of the CIA was not for him. He wasn't high profile material
and Ruth didn't really want him to be. He had taken a soft
job a couple of steps down from the top and had kept it
clean and simple until it was his time to go. The
occasional headaches that the infamous Agent Mulder had
created for the Agency had not been his problem.
"Okay," he said slowly. "Let's say that they're right and
there is a threat and it's from highly placed government
people, including their superiors in the Bureau. Without
knowing what exactly it is that they found out or what they
are hiding, I can't see how you can solve the problem."
"I just need access, Phil," Maggie said firmly. "I need to
talk to someone who pulls the strings. Someone who will
make these people sit up and take notice."
"Again, it's hard to know-"
"I want you to get me in to see Senator Hargrave," she said
firmly.
His mouth fell open.
"The head of the Senate Judiciary Committee? Maggie, you
can't be serious."
"I'm very serious, Phil. I've done some research and he's
going to be in town for a benefit on December 30th. I want
to see him that afternoon."
***
William found his cousin, Matty, utterly fascinating. And
his focused attention was returned by the older cousin who
repeatedly asked to hold, carry and watch William. Tara and
Scully shared smiles over the two boys on the floor and
stalwartly ignored the simmering scowl of Bill Scully in the
corner of the room.
Twenty-four hours of Mulder minding his manners and warning
looks from every Scully woman in the house had not dimmed
Bill's anger. Not even jovial Charlie and his equally
boisterous wife, Megan had been able to lighten his mood.
The white elephant stood fast in the middle of the room
despite rounds of Christmas carols and gingerbread cake.
Everyone knew it was only a matter of time and no one knew
what to do about it.
The tension had increased when Maggie had gone off to lunch
with "an old friend" and told them to make due with the
considerable stock in the kitchen. Charlie and Megan were
vegetarians and Bill was meat and potatoes. After a rather
heated discussion between the brothers about the virtues of
eating animal flesh, the women had compromised with a
Caesar's salad and grilled chicken.
With the lunch dishes stacked in the dishwasher, Mulder,
Charlie and Megan had gone off to the den to play Scrabble.
Outraged shouts occasionally emanated from the room making
Scully and Tara smile and causing Bill to glower over the
edge of his book.
As the clock chimed three, Maggie swept in the door.
"I'm back," she called out cheerily, pulling off her hat
and gloves. "Brr, it's cold out there!"
Bill strode into the foyer.
"How are the roads? They said on the news that we're going
to get more snow tonight."
Maggie smiled up at her oldest child.
"The roads are fine. Crowded. Everyone is hurrying home
to their families for the holidays." She checked her
watch. "And speaking of families, I better get in the
kitchen if I'm going to feed mine dinner tonight."
She went into the kitchen with Bill close on her heels.
"How was your lunch," he asked, leaning against the
counter.
"Fine," Maggie said, opening the refrigerator and pulling
out eggs and milk. "We went to this little French Café that
I discovered recently."
"So, who is this old friend?" Bill asked bluntly and got a
cocked eyebrow for his trouble. He shifted uncomfortably
under his mother's stare. "Is it someone we know?" he
finished lamely.
Maggie eyed him for another moment before speaking.
"Yes. Phil DeWalt. He and his wife Ruth used to vacation
with us when you kids were very young. They had two
daughters."
"Monique and Ashley," Bill said. "I remember them. How
are Phil and Ruth?"
"Ruth died about two years ago," Maggie said, pulling items
out of cupboards. "Phil is good. Retired from the Agency.
His daughters both live on the west coast now. They're
coming home for Christmas tomorrow."
"That's nice," Bill said. "So, are you and Phil close?"
Maggie put the flour down on the counter and turned to her
son.
"Maybe. Do you have a problem with that?"
Bill looked down at his hands, resting on the counter.
"No. I was just...wondering."
"Because you think some man is making a move on your
mother?" Maggie asked shrewdly.
Bill flushed and bit his lip.
"Is that so terrible?" he challenged. "I'm just
concerned."
Maggie sighed and turned back to the flour.
"Bill, we really need to get some things straight." She
looked up at him. "I know your father pounded the whole
'man of the house' thing into your head from early on. And
I know how much you admired your father." She paused,
searching for the right words. "But you need to realize
that as much as your father tried to take care of and
protect all of us, he also expected all of us to stand on
our own two feet."
"I know that," Bill said, sullenly.
"Do you?" Maggie tilted her head and regarded him. "I
sometime wonder if you forget it. Your father went away for
months at a time and I took care of all four of you. The
four of you learned to take care of yourselves. That hasn't
changed."
"I didn't mean-"
"You didn't mean to be insulting," she said quietly,
reaching out to touch his arm. "And you don't mean to be
hurtful. But you are. You need to think before you speak,
Bill. You need to think about what your words do to your
brother and to your sister."
Bill's eyes flashed angrily.
"I'm only trying to help them, Mom. I swear, sometimes I
can't believe that we're all related. Charlie's some kind
of neo-hippy that I barely recognize. And Dana, well, you
know how I feel about what she's done with her life."
"Which is my point, Bill. We all know how you feel. You
make it blatantly obvious. Which is hurtful to Charlie and
Dana. It make me uncomfortable. Tara is embarrassed and
Mulder is angry and..."
"Mulder is angry!" Bill burst out. "I don't care what
Mulder is, unless it's gone. It's too bad he didn't stay
that way. It would be the best thing for Dana and Will if
he never came back. If he-"
"William Scully," Maggie thundered. "That is enough!"
Maggie put her hands on her hips. "I have tried to do this
the nice way. I have tried waiting for you to come to your
senses, and now I see that I have been wasting my time."
"You're not going to defend him," Bill said,
incredulously. "He's gotten Dana hurt and almost killed a
dozen times that we know of. He got her pregnant-"
"Bill!" Maggie snapped. "Enough! Dana's life is her
business. Charlie's life is his. And I expect it to stay
that way, as long as you are in my house."
"Mom, I-"
"I mean it, Bill," Maggie said firmly. "I know you know
how to take orders. You do it every day in the Navy. Well,
I am the head of this family and that makes me your superior
officer. And this is a direct order, young man. Leave your
sister and your brother's lives alone. Resolve yourself to
their choices and make your peace with it."
Bill glared at her.
"I can't just stand by and watch as-"
"Yes, you can," Maggie said. "And you're going to, or you
are not going to be welcome in this house until you do."
Bill stared, open-mouthed at his mother.
"You can't be serious," he breathed. "You would ostracize
me for speaking my conscience?"
"It's not your conscience to keep, Bill," Maggie said, her
eyes never leaving his. "And I am very serious. Don't test
me. You won't like the outcome."
Bill blinked, then blinked again, his face a torrent of
fleeting emotions. Maggie regarded her son wearily and
sighed. She reached out and patted his arm.
"Why don't you go to your room and think about this for a
while. We can talk again, later." She turned away from him
and started to make dinner. Behind her she heard Bill
quietly leave the room and she slumped against the counter.
She wondered if Bill would ever know what it cost her to
issue that ultimatum.
=========================================
He watched as her hands absently caressed the fine soft
curls beneath her fingers. She was smiling and laughing and
stroking their son's head as he sat in her arms. It was the
most beautiful thing Mulder had ever seen.
He sipped his buttered rum and just sat, watching her.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was bound
to call attention to himself with his forthright admiration
of Scully. Big brother Bill was sure to notice and glower.
But Mulder couldn't help himself. It had been so long since
he had just had the pleasure of looking at her.
She had changed in little ways and it pained him that he
had not been there to see the changes occur. She was as
thin and svelte as ever despite her insistence that she
still had five pounds to lose. Knowing Scully, she would
push herself until the scale said what she wanted it to, but
he thought she looked perfect. Her body was more rounded
than before. Curvier. It denoted her passage into
motherhood, but it also gave her a softness that she had
lacked before. It made him want her more than ever. He
reminded himself to tell her that in bed tonight.
He grimaced slightly at that thought. Ever since the rest
of the family had arrived their private time had all but
dissipated. Maggie had done her best; putting Bill in the
room at the far end of the hall. But Scully was still sure
that everyone would hear them if they did anything.
Personally, he didn't care. He would open the window so the
neighbors could hear, for all it mattered to him. But he
wasn't going to push her. This visit wasn't about sex, it
was about finding the strength to go on. To feed a little
on each other's love before facing the fast ahead.
Matty made a face and Will laughed, causing Scully to look
down and beam at Will. His bright blue Scully eyes sparkled
and he waved his hands in his excitement.
"You want down, Will?" she asked and then set him on the
floor, his back against the couch. Matty immediately
crawled forward to hand his cousin a toy train to play
with. Scully smiled at them and then looked up at Mulder.
He felt a warmth spread through his chest as she smiled at
him, her own Scully blues twinkling and warm. He smiled
back, letting his love glow in his eyes and he saw her
knowing smile in return.
Scully turned to Tara.
"Tara, would you mind watching Will for a few minutes. I
need to talk to Mulder about something."
Tara smiled nonchalantly, trying to hide her knowing smirk
from Mulder, and nodded. Scully rose from the couch and
stretched out her hand to Mulder. Without a word they
climbed the stairs to their bedroom.
***
Touch. Touch.
Breathe.
Shiver. Touch. Stroke.
Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the frosted pane,
flaring her red tresses into a red halo around her head as
she rose above him. A clock on the nightstand ticked in the
quiet of the room.
Touch. Stroke. Gasp.
He bit his lip to silence his moans, losing himself in the
feeling of her hands sliding up and down his length, pumping
him slowly.
Kiss. Just one feather touch on his collarbone. Shiver.
He arched his back as her fingers slid lower, rubbing and
cupping his balls, sliding over them with agonizing
slowness. The rustling sheets thundered in his ears as he
tossed his head from side to side.
Wet. Warm. Soft.
He hissed as her mouth enveloped him, her tongue slipping
along his length, twirling and twisting over his straining
flesh.
Heat. Slick.
Her tongue danced over his tip and he jerked in response,
pushing up against her and being rewarded when she pulled
him up against the roof of her mouth, sucking him, pulling
him in.
Fire. Burning. Gasp.
Circle. Slide. Suck. Circle. Slide. He gripped the
sheets, twisting them in his fists.
Faster. Harder. Circle. Slide. Suck. Circle. Suck.
Suck. Fire.
He threw his head back and arched against her, every muscle
straining. The world exploded into red behind his closed
eyelids.
Breathe. Soft. Peace.
His arms slid around her as she laid her head on his chest.
Love.
***
"Aunt Dana, Uncle Fox, WAKE UP!" A pint-sized torpedo
bounced onto the bed and Scully opened her eyes to Matty's
excited face.
"Santa came, Aunt Dana! Get up!"
Her eyes went to the clock. 6:15. Pretty respectable for
his age. She grinned at him.
"You have to get off of us first, Matty!" Beside her
Mulder smiled sleepily at his new "nephew". Obligingly,
Matty bounced off the bed and raced for the door.
"Hurry up," he called from the hallway. "Grandma says we
can't open presents until everyone is downstairs." His Dr.
Denton covered feet pounded down the stairs.
They looked at each other and burst into laughter. Next to
them, in the crib, came a corresponding warble. Someone
else was awake, too.
Mulder made a panicked face.
"Quick, pick it up before it goes off!"
Scully laughed and threw back the covers. She reached into
the crib and hoisted Will to her shoulder.
"Hey, little man. Guess what? It's your very first
Christmas!"
She turned back to the bed and took in Mulder, reclining
against the headboard, his hair rumpled, his sleepy eyes
brimming with love and happiness. Her heart took a picture
and tucked it away for the months ahead. This was what it
was all for. A future with countless moments like these.
She took one of Will's tiny hands and waved it at Mulder.
"Say, 'Merry Christmas, Daddy!'", she said. Will laughed
and waved his hand all by himself, making his father grin
with pride. She arched an eyebrow at Mulder.
"Shall we join the others before Matty storms our room
again?"
"Sounds good to me," Mulder replied, throwing back the
covers and climbing out of bed. He reached for his t-shirt
and slide it down over his pajama bottoms. "Am I decent
enough?"
She reached up and kissed him on the nose.
"More than enough."
***
Despite Bill's enormous garbage bag and strict orders to
immediately turn over any refuse, wrapping paper and ribbons
were scattered around the living room. While enamored with
his new stuffed Orangutan (from Daddy) and his new blocks
(Aunt Tara), Will's favorite gift of the day was the
wrapping. He grabbed it, crunched it, ripped it and stuffed
it in his mouth. Matty helped by burying his cousin in
tissue paper and sticking a red bow on his head. Maggie had
taken three rolls of film. Scully thought her heart was
going to burst and her face hurt from smiling so much.
She could feel Mulder's long lean thigh pressed against
hers as they sat on the couch watching their son. Their
hands were loosely entwined, parting frequently to balance
Will or pull something out of his mouth. But like magnets
their fingers always found each other again. Mulder was
stroking the back of her hand with his thumb and she
couldn't stop smiling at everyone. Even Bill.
Maggie was in the kitchen putting together the big
Christmas breakfast which would be followed in short order
by a big Christmas dinner. Scully had decided to take the
day off from counting carbs and fat grams. The smell of the
eggs Benedict was making her mouth water.
The doorbell rang and Bill went to answer it. She turned
to Mulder.
"When are the guys coming over?"
He shrugged.
"I don't know, exactly. They were waiting for a couple of
their friends to come and take up the surveillance while
they're here."
She frowned.
"They didn't tell them who or why, did they?"
"No. Just fed the guys something about international
conspiracy, highest government officials, blah, blah. I
guess these two ate it up, couldn't wait to be part of it."
Scully snorted.
"Real comic book stuff. They should try living it for a
while."
He squeezed her hand in a silent apology and she squeezed
back. No apology necessary. She had come out more than
ahead. She saw Mulder's gaze shift over her shoulder.
"Merry Christmas, Sir," Mulder said, climbing to his feet.
Scully turned in surprise to see Walter Skinner standing
awkwardly in the doorway next to a confused looking Bill.
Mulder strode forward and offered his hand to Skinner who
shook it heartily and with relief.
"It's good to see you, Mulder. I had no idea you would be
here."
Mulder smiled.
"Neither did anyone else. Had to keep it that way, I'm
afraid."
Skinner nodded abruptly and turned to Scully.
"Dana, you're looking good. Quantico agrees with you."
She handed Will to Megan and Charlie and went to Skinner.
"Yes, although I miss working with you." He reached out
his hand and she surprised everyone, including herself, by
reaching up and pulling him into a hug. His long arms held
her hesitantly for a moment before hugging her back.
She stepped back and smiled at him.
"I'm glad you could join us, Sir."
"Walter, please," he said. "No protocol on Christmas."
She nodded and ushered him into the living room. Maggie
appeared in the doorway.
"Walter! Merry Christmas." She came forward and gave him
a hug and a kiss, causing Bill to grumble from the corner.
"I'm so glad you could join us."
The doorbell chimed again and Bill excused himself to
answer it.
"Thank you for inviting me," Skinner said. "Something
smells wonderful already."
Maggie beamed up at him.
"With luck, it will taste just as good."
Bill appeared in the doorway with another tall, striking
man. All eyes turned to the pair and Maggie beamed again.
"Phil, Merry Christmas!" Hug, kiss, smile. She turned to
everyone. "This is Phil DeWalt, an old friend of your father
and myself. His daughters both got snowed in at Denver and
he was going to spend Christmas alone. So, I insisted that
he join us."
Maggie quickly made introductions and Scully hummed to
herself as Skinner and Phil eyed each other warily as they
shook hands. Phil DeWalt, former CIA bigwig and A.D.
Skinner of the FBI. They both smiled toothily at her
mother. Hmm, wasn't this going to be an interesting
Christmas.
Maggie herded everyone into the dining room and began
dishing out the food. Scully sat at one end with Will
banging his spoon on his highchair. Next to her, Mulder
teased Megan about dropping the toast. The doorbell rang
again.
"Good grief," Bill muttered as he got up. "Who didn't she
invite?"
Scully took two piece of buttered toast, it **was**
Christmas, and passed it on to Tara who was trying to wrest
the jam jar out of Matty's hands. Will threw his spoon on
the floor.
"Merry Christmas!" someone boomed behind her, and Scully
jumped and turned. Frohike, Santa Hat, tinsel and armloads
of gifts, stood grinning in the doorway. Behind him stood
Byers in a red sweater (no suit!?!?) and Langley with
reindeer antlers tied around his head. Towering over them
all was Bill's extremely red face.
Scully burst into laughter.
"Merry Christmas," she choked out, and gestured them in.
"Make yourself at home. We just started."
"Cool," Langley said. "Something smells righteous in
here."
Maggie popped her head around the corner.
"Boys, Merry Christmas! How many eggs would you like?"
"How many you got?" Langley shot back, sitting next to
Matty in Bill's place. He leaned over and high fived Mulder
across the table before looking up and down the table. "I
could eat a horse."
Mulder handed Will his spoon. Will shrieked with delight
and pitched it down the table, smack into the carafe of
orange juice.
"Three pointer!" Mulder crowed and everyone laughed, even
Bill. Scully grinned at Mulder and felt his hand take hers
under the table, his thumb caressing her hand. They drank
in each other as breakfast commenced around them.
Touch. Stroke. Love.
"Merry Christmas, Scully," Mulder said, softly.
She leaned forward and he met her halfway, their lips
brushing against each other like snowflakes floating through
the sky.
Touch. Breathe. Love.
"Merry Christmas, Mulder."
The End.
Author's Notes: Okay, I have no idea what the muse was up
to with this. I know it went in twenty different directions
and all I can tell you is that I was not in control. Maggie
Scully appeared and refused to take a backseat this time.
She really IS a strong willed woman! Charlie showed up but
had nothing to say. This was supposed to be a little
companion piece to NSSN, not longer than and more complex
than, the original. I don't know what else to tell ya!
Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed it nevertheless. I will try
to have a talk with my muse, but she rarely listens to
anything I have to say.
No beta, all mistakes are mine, with apologies. Big THANK
YOU to Aly for my website and the wonderful collage she did
for NSSN and this story!!!
Happy Holidays to you and yours!
Menagerie
               (
geocities.com/xmas_files)