From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 20 Dec 2001 00:50:15 -0000
Subject: Still, Still, Still by:  Tess & Char Chaffin (1 of 2)  NC-17 by Tess
Source: direct

Reply To: tnv099@aol.com


Title:  Still, Still, Still (1 of 2)
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin 
Email:  char@chaffin.com and tnv099@aol.com
Rating:  NC-17
Keywords:  SAR
Category:  MSR
Spoilers:  General through S9
Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive
Disclaimers:  Not ours; never were; sadly, never will 
be.  Characters contained in this story are the 
property of Fox & 1013 Productions

Authors' Notes at End

Summary:  It's Christmas, and they can't bear the 
separation one more day -

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

STILL, STILL, STILL
(Part 1 of 2)

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


"Still, still, still...
One can hear the falling snow..."


December 23, 2001
6:45 p.m.


The man, tall and lean with dark hair, curls one arm 
around the woman and holds an umbrella overhead, 
protecting her and the tiny, snowsuit-clad bundle 
cradled in her arms from the freezing rain that is 
falling from the heavens above.  The woman, her 
distinct cinnamon-colored hair tucked under a woolen 
cap, struggles to match his much longer stride, careful 
not to jostle the sleeping baby as the three hurry 
across the short distance toward the waiting car and 
shelter from the elements.

She quickly settles the babe into the car seat provided 
by the rental car agency, then slides into her own 
seat.  As she fumbles with her seatbelt, she turns her 
head.  His face is lit by the dim green glow of the 
dashboard as he fiddles with the controls of the 
heater.  When a blast of warmth begins to take the 
chill off the air in the car, his relieved smile is a 
flash of white in the darkness.

"All set?" he asks. His voice is hushed in deference to 
the child who sleeps and dreams in the seat behind 
them.  She glances over her shoulder, constantly 
confirming the child's safety.  When she nods, he slips 
the gearshift into drive and they pull out of the 
parking lot.  She consults a map dug out of the glove 
compartment and quickly directs him toward the highway.  
The compass on the dashboard tells them that they are 
heading north - finally heading north - and she heaves 
a thankful sigh that they are on the last leg of this 
journey.

The decision to make the trip had been a sudden one.  
Information had fallen into his hands leading him north 
to Canada and she would not be left behind.  Carrying 
false identification and a generous amount of cash 
hidden in what, to all outward appearances was a bundle 
of dirty diapers; they had set off two days earlier.  
Their route was circuitous as they sought to throw off 
anyone who might be following them and they had 
traveled by plane and bus and finally by car as they 
zigzagged east and west, south and now north across the 
states that bordered the Atlantic Ocean.

Earlier her heart had been thrumming with anticipation 
and worry, but now her eyelids droop with weariness 
brought on by two days spent traveling with a 
sometimes-fractious four-month-old, while constantly 
looking over her shoulder for any unseen danger that 
might be following them.  As the car's tires cover 
mile after mile drawing them ever closer to the 
U.S./Canadian border, she gives in to the pull of 
sleep.

He glances to his right and his lips curl upward in a 
fond smile.  She is slumping heavily in her seat and 
were it not for the safety belt locked firmly over her 
torso, he is convinced that she would slide to the 
floor in a puddle of exhaustion.  Stray wisps of hair 
escape the confines of the cap that covers her head and 
dark smudges of color beneath her eyes bear witness to 
the worries and fatigue that have plagued her not just 
since they had left Washington, DC, but for the last 
four months.

Initially, he had been reluctant to bring her along on 
this trip.  He had an agenda of his own... answers to 
be sought and had and he had chafed with the knowledge 
that her presence and that of the child would slow him 
down from discovering his truth.  He had cited the 
possible dangers of the trip and the frustrations of 
traveling with a small child, but his arguments had 
died under her determined but pleading blue eyes, and 
in the end she had her way.

The headlights of the car illuminate a road sign that 
tells him they are closing in on their destination.  He 
glances down at the speedometer.  Traffic is light; 
they will be there in less than an hour's time.

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


A gentle hand squeezing her shoulder through her woolen 
coat rouses her. She straightens in her seat and rubs 
her hands over her face, peering blearily through the 
window.  She had slept right through the border 
crossing.  The streets are crowded with holiday 
revelers bundled up against the cold weather in 
brightly colored parkas and mittens.  The trees that 
line the streets glitter with hundreds of tiny, white 
lights.  People bustle in and out of the hotels, 
restaurants and shops, the buildings both quaint and 
tacky.  She can hear a roaring sound in the near 
distance muffled by the steady thump-thump of the 
car's tires and its windows rolled up against the 
biting cold.  She watches people streaming past the car 
as they pull into an outdoor parking lot.  She 
jams her hands into her gloves and winds her scarf 
tightly around her neck before climbing out of the car.

"Thank you, John."  She smiles and takes the baby from 
his outstretched arms, pulling the hood tightly over 
the child's tiny head. A warm blanket, knit by her 
mother's patient hands, further protects him from the 
sharp gusts of wind that swirl around them.  

"Ready, Dana?" he asks as he curls his arm around her 
waist again.  She flashes a hesitant smile at him, 
gratefully accepting the warmth of his body against her 
own; together they set off.  The noise is louder now, a 
thunder of powerful sound that accompanies the excited 
crowds and strolling carolers.  It is in this throng of 
tourists and holiday merrymakers that they hope to lose 
themselves and throw off any relentless pursuers that 
may have tracked them this far.

They push into the crowd and hurry toward the center of 
town.  As they round a corner, a small gasp is pulled 
from her at the sight of the majestic falls brilliantly 
lit in the darkness.  The sound of the water 
relentlessly plunging over the rocks is overwhelming 
and her throat tightens at the sheer beauty of this 
amazing wonder wrought by God's powerful hand.  She 
adjusts the blanket over the baby, shielding him from 
the mist that perpetually hangs in the air. She chances 
a last glance at the glories of Niagara Falls before 
allowing John to lead her away.

Their rapid pace slows as they reach their destination.  
A large crowd has gathered around a massive Christmas 
tree and they push their way to the center of the 
throng.  Peering out from beneath his hood and blanket, 
the baby's eyes reflect the thousands of glittering, 
twinkling lights that drip from the tree's boughs.  A 
choir climbs onto a dais and Scully rests her cheek 
against William's head and closes her eyes as the soft, 
gentle strains of "Silent Night" sweep over them.  She 
is swaying with the music and her throat is tight as 
she reflects back on a year fraught with terror and 
fear and deep, deep loneliness.  One tear tracks 
silently over the chilled skin of her cheek and she 
swipes it away with a gloved hand.  Scully determinedly 
pushes down tears that threaten to choke her.  Tonight 
is not about sadness.  It is supposed to be about joy 
and love and hope for the future.  

A heavy hand settles on her head and she tilts her chin 
up.  His beloved face smiles down at her and she gasps 
as she throws one arm out to pull him into her embrace.

"Mulder!" Her voice is a whisper against the soft wool 
of the scarf that is wrapped around his strong throat.  
The tears that shimmer in his hazel eyes belie his 
happy grin.  Even with the heavy stubble that darkens 
his cheeks and jaw, he is more handsome than she 
remembered. A lock of hair tumbles over his forehead in 
a way that she remembered from long ago when his hair 
had been longer.  

She clutches him tightly and William squawks 
indignantly at being squashed in his parents' desperate 
embrace.  Scully laughs tearfully and loosens her grip 
- but doesn't let go - as her eyes rove hungrily over 
his face.


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

He's been standing in the square for hours, waiting.  
The wind kicked up and blew shards of icy snow into his 
eyes - he didn't notice.  The tips of his toes began to 
stick together with the humid cold being manufactured 
in his not-warm-enough Doc Martens.  It didn't matter.  
The thermo-lined leather gloves on his hands became 
ineffectual about six groups of tourists ago...

He could have cared less.

Everything in the world that kept his body and soul 
warm and nurtured was out there somewhere, making a 
direct path to him.  It's all Mulder could think about, 
since receiving notification from John Byers that he 
was coming north - and bringing Scully and William with 
him.  

Scully never knew that all this time the Gunmen had 
been in frequent contact with him.  That was because 
Mulder had refused to let them say a word.  The cut-
off from his family had to be total and complete if he 
was going to protect them, as well as keep himself 
alive for them.  It broke his heart to know that a 
word or two from any of the guys could have eased her 
fears so easily - but they didn't dare say those words.  
Their devoted silence meant the world to Mulder.

It had been so dangerous to call them.  He'd taken a 
horrible chance.  His rationale was that he had to get 
some plans in the works before much more time 
flew by - and so he took that chance; made the call on 
a day and an hour when he knew they would have just 
completed a thorough sweep.  It was still so dangerous 
- but he'd had to make the call, after receiving the 
coded email from Byers telling him that a trip north 
was in the cards for him - to search for Suzanne 
Modeski.  Byers had gotten a tip; a clue as to her 
whereabouts... and he had to try.  Try and find her; 
try and connect with her.  So he'd told Mulder, in a 
coded email, on the off chance there was a slim 
opportunity for them to meet up even if that meeting 
would extend no longer than five minutes.  Mulder's 
voice had been muted and pleading on the phone.

"Byers, you HAVE to bring Scully and William with you.  
Please.  I know you'd be taking a dangerous chance.  I 
know I shouldn't ask.  But Jesus... I need them, need 
to see them..." Mulder hadn't meant to beg.  Standing 
in a small phone booth outside a run-down Mom and Pop 
store, out in the middle of nowhere - he 
had tried to be strong, to resist the pull of longing.  
He'd really tried...

But no amount of inner strength in the world could have 
stopped him from begging John Byers to bring his loved 
ones with him when he headed north in search of 
Suzanne.  John had been hesitant... afraid to bring 
Scully and the baby on a potentially dangerous trip; 
reluctant to slow down his own quest for the woman 
he loved.  But he had agreed to talk to Scully.  He'd 
reported back to Mulder that there had never been any 
question in her mind about coming to him; that she'd 
cast aside her own fears and practically begged him to 
bring her to Mulder.  

That level of trust was so precious to him.

Now he stands in the square and he holds his family 
tightly in his arms.  Scully's tears wet his scarf and 
drip onto what little of his throat is exposed to the 
elements.  He manages to free up one hand, and reaches 
out to clasp Byers' gloved fingers in a gratefully hard 
grasp, which his friend returns with affection.  Scully 
raises her head from his shoulder and her teary eyes 
regard Byers with equal affection and gratitude.  
Reluctantly Mulder looses his hold on her, long enough 
to allow her to embrace Byers and kiss his cold cheek.

"John - thank you.  For everything, so much more than 
either of us can repay.  And thanks for this, too!"  
Scully runs her palm along Byers' clean-shaven jaw; 
he'd sacrificed his beloved beard in an attempt to make 
himself less recognizable.  Byers grins into her hand 
and then bends down to return her kiss.

"You three... take care of each other the next few 
days.  Have the best Christmas you can - but don't wait 
too long to return them to DC, Mulder - I've 
got a feeling you'll be watched closely.  I don't want 
to know how you send them back; the less I know, the 
better!  Whoever may have been following behind us, 
Mulder... they have to think she and William have just 
been on a holiday trip."  He squeezes Scully again, 
drops a kiss on William's little cheek - impulsively 
hugs Mulder, hard, adding, "I have to leave now.  I 
don't want to wait any longer to find Suzanne.  I've 
waited much too long already."  

Byers lets go of Mulder and spares all three of them 
one last smile. With a quick glance around to assure 
they are not being observed, he turns and melts 
into the bustling holiday crowd.  In less than five 
seconds he has melded completely.  Scully and Mulder 
both watch him leave, Scully with a worried frown 
on her face that he knows must be mirrored in his eyes.

Taking William from Scully's arms and hitching the baby 
more securely against his shoulder, Mulder curves his 
free arm around Scully's waist, still in awe of 
the fact that he can actually do it.  Jesus... she 
really is here - she really is touchable and kissable 
and he's just so grateful.  Uncaring of the thicker 
snow falling down or the increasing cold night wind - 
or the utter danger of being out here in the open - 
Mulder leans down and catches Scully's soft mouth; 
kisses her deeply.  For endless seconds their lips 
cling and move upon each other's.  Oh, he's missed 
this, so much... the magic of kissing Dana Scully has 
been a sweetness he's craved for way too many months.  

After long seconds more, kissing with passion in the 
middle of the tourist district of the Falls... Mulder 
finally releases her mouth and murmurs regretfully, "We 
have to move along, Scully.  It's dangerous to stay 
here.  Come on."  He leads her out of the square and 
across the street into a parking lot illed with cars.  
Toward the end he picks out a nondescript Ford, nodding 
over 
at it, "My clunker.  It's a heap but it's warm and it 
has great snow tires."  He ushers his family to the 
car; unlocks and opens the door.  Inside, there's a 
baby car seat buckled into the center of the back seat.  
The sight of it brings tears to Scully's eyes.  Mulder 
can see her struggle to blink them back, as she eases 
the sleeping William into the seat and fastens him in.  
The single duffle bag and diaper bag she brought with 
her is stowed in the trunk next to an odd assortment of 
boxes and whatnot.  

Once Scully is safely inside Mulder buckles his belt 
and they're off.  Easing his way through the throngs of 
raucous holiday revelers still enjoying the sights and 
sounds of the holiday square, they make it out of the 
city limits.  It's still fairly early in the evening - 
not yet nine o'clock - but it's very dark out and as 
they venture further and further out of the populated 
areas the traffic thins out to almost nothing.  It's 
best this way - easier to see if they are being 
followed.  Mulder knows he's being paranoid.  He has 
good reason to be...

Next to him Scully leans her head against the passenger 
side window; she has stripped off her gloves and her 
left hand clasps Mulder's thigh, covered by his 
free hand.  They twine their fingers through each 
other's and although there is verbal silence in the car 
neither feels an overwhelming need to talk.  Low in 
the interior of the car the radio plays Christmas music 
and Mulder catches himself humming little snatches of 
it.  It has started to snow again and will probably do 
so all through the rest of the night.  The further 
north they go the heavier the snow will become.  It's a 
harsh environment, this part of Canada - but so very 
beautiful.  

After thirty minutes of silence, punctuated by holiday 
melodies and the occasional squeeze of Scully's hand, 
Mulder is desperate to know what she's thinking.  He 
chances taking his eyes off the slippery road long 
enough to steal a glance at her face, still pale and 
tired-looking - but still the loveliest sight he's seen 
in many months.  He clears his throat and the sound 
causes her to swing those sleepy eyes his way.

"Scully... you have to know how much it means to me..."  
That's as far as he gets before she utters a small gulp 
of distress and leans over his way, straining against 
her seatbelt until she can reach his cheek; until she 
can kiss the dark stubble there.  Her free hand manages 
to curve itself around his neck and her ragged whisper 
feathers against the cheek she just kissed.

"Mulder, God.  I know.  I can't tell you how much it 
means to ME - the chance you're taking, for William and 
me -"  She swallows audibly and presses her forehead 
down on his shoulder, adding, "I thought we'd never see 
you... I thought I'd lost you... I've been so lonely, 
Mulder!"  Her voice breaks on his name and she buries 
her face in his parka and weeps.  Mulder grips her hand 
and murmurs brokenly to her, leaning his head in to rub 
his cheek against her bright hair.  He's dying to pull 
over, stop the car - take her into his arms and kiss 
her senseless.  The two or three kisses they shared in 
Niagara Falls were not nearly enough to sustain him on 
their long journey - but they will have to last; he 
can't stop, not even for five minutes.  He soothes her 
as best as he can with the caress of his cheek upon her 
hair and the impassioned words he speaks to her. 

"Scully, oh Baby... I can't express how miserable I've 
been - how isolated and lonely, too.  I want to stop 
this car and hold you - God, you can't know how badly! 
- but we have to keep driving."  He can feel her nod 
against his shoulder; she straightens up and he 
releases her hand long enough for her to wipe at her 
eyes and pull a tissue out of her pocket to blow her 
nose.  She turns around and checks on William, who's 
snoring soft little baby-snorts into the warm interior 
of the car.  Turning back to face front, Scully links 
fingers with Mulder again, and her low query is shaky 
but her voice is in better control.

"Where are we going, Mulder?  You never said."  Mulder 
meets her eyes again, briefly, and smiles tenderly at 
her.

"No, I didn't.  On purpose.  It's better if you don't 
know, Baby.  Truly, it is."  Scully nods and then her 
next words cause him to chuckle out loud.

"Okay, then.  I won't push it.  By the way, Mulder... 
you do realize that you've called me 'Baby' twice in 
just a few minutes... don't you?"  He nods and another 
chuckle slips out.

"Yeah, I do.  Don't you like it?  If you don't like it 
then I'll call you something else.  Maybe 'Honeybunch', 
or 'Cutie-Pie'..."  Now it's Scully's turn to release a 
small chuckle of her own, as she considers her options 
and weeds out the worst of the endearments.

"No, it's okay, Mulder.  I like 'Baby'.  I like it a 
lot.  It makes me feel safe, and loved."  His reply is 
a soft affirmation in the cozy confines of the 
car.

"Oh, Baby... you are.  Safe, and so very loved."

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

It is the change from smooth asphalt to bumpy gravel 
under the car's tires that awakens her.  Scully 
straightens in her seat and twists her head to check on
William.  The baby is wide-awake, contentedly sucking 
on two fingers and staring out of the car's windows.  
They had only been driving a short while when her
eyelids began to droop again.  She had fought against 
sleep - not wanting to sacrifice one precious moment of 
this stolen time with Mulder to something as
mundane as sleep - but the Christmas music softly 
playing on the radio and the familiar, comfortable 
sensation of having Mulder beside her in the car worked
against her.  

Glancing at the illuminated clock on the dashboard, she 
notes that she has only been sleeping for about an 
hour.  Feeling a bit muzzy-headed, she stretches in
the tight confines of her seat.

"Where are we?" she wonders aloud.  Mulder has both 
hands on the steering wheel as he negotiates the Ford 
along a narrow gravel road winding up a steep hill.  

"We're almost there," he reassures her.  Scully dips 
her head down, peering through the windshield.  The sky 
has cleared and in the moonlight she studies their 
surroundings.  In the distance she can see the glimmer 
of lights coming from the small houses that dot the 
hills around them.  The grassy fields and valleys are 
covered with snow, the pristine blanket of white marred 
only by the footprints of rabbits and deer and other 
wildlife that share this remote area with the humans 
who have decided to make it their home.  

The road curves again and Scully can see a small cabin 
sitting like a sentinel on top of the hill.  She sees 
the warm glow of a light spilling from the windows
as Mulder pulls the car alongside the cabin and stops.  
Pushing her door open, Scully climbs to her feet and 
stretches muscles that ache from two days of non-
stop travel.  The air is hushed and peaceful around 
them and moonlight bounces off the carpet of white 
illuminating everything with that odd light that only 
snow can bring.

He's found himself a magical place, she thinks as she 
turns to watch him gently lift William from the car.  
Father and son take a moment to study each other and
unbidden tears once more spring to Scully's eyes as 
William plops his head down on Mulder's shoulder, 
snuggling close to his father and popping two fingers 
back into his mouth.

"Let's go inside."  Mulder starts for the cabin and 
Scully grabs William's diaper bag out of the car and 
hurries after them.  Mulder pushes the door open 
and steps aside to allow Scully to enter first.

"I'm renting it," he tells her as she turns around to 
take in her surroundings. The cabin is not large by any 
measure, but it isn't cramped or tight either. Cozy, 
she thinks.  The wooden planks of the walls have 
mellowed to a golden hue and soft carpets are scattered 
across the smooth floor.  A pot-bellied stove glows 
warmly in the kitchen, but the reassuring sight of 
modern appliances tells Scully that it is meant more 
for warmth than for cooking.  She can't imagine
Mulder cooking on such an antique...  then again, she 
can't imagine Mulder cooking, period.

A heavy table and four sturdy high-backed chairs sit in 
the middle of the kitchen, which opens directly into 
the living area.  A slightly worn sofa in a dark blue 
and green plaid with a matching loveseat and chair are 
grouped together near the fireplace, which stands dark 
and cold at the moment.  Handing William to her Mulder 
crouches and quickly has a small fire dancing merrily 
in the hearth. The room has a decidedly masculine feel 
to it.  There isn't much in the way of decoration to 
the cabin.  No pictures hang on the walls and shutters, 
not curtains, hang alongside the windows.  But tucked 
in the far corner of the room is a Christmas tree.  It 
stands ever so slightly crooked, and strand after 
strand of colored lights are its only ornamentation.  
Its heady, woodsy fragrance scents the air.  Scully 
glances down to see her baby's dazzled eyes desperately 
trying to focus on the tiny pinpoints of light and she 
moves closer to the tree.  Mulder's fingers are tucked 
into the pockets of his jeans and his face holds an 
uncertain expression.

"It's beautiful," she tells him and her face holds the 
same dazzled expression as their son's.  Blue eyes meet 
hazel and she feels a longing for him every bit as 
intense as when there were hundreds upon hundreds of 
miles between them instead of only a few feet.  The 
moment is shattered as William arches his back and lets 
out an irritated wail.

"He's hungry," she says and walks over to sit on the 
loveseat and wrestle the baby out of his snowsuit.  She 
shrugs out of her own coat and reaches for the buttons 
on her shirt with one hand as she lifts the baby in her 
other arm. Suddenly feeling awkward, Mulder spins 
toward the door.

"I'll get your bag," he mutters as he yanks open the 
door and steps out into the cold.  He returns a few 
minutes later and stops at the sight of Scully and 
William sitting on his sofa.  He'd only had two days 
with them before fate and their enemies had driven him 
away.  Now he drinks in the sight of mother and child 
safe and warm in the place where he lives but which 
only truly became his home when they walked through the 
door.

Scully cradles William in one arm.  A tiny, blue-socked 
foot pushes rhythmically against the palm of her hand 
in a game they play each night.  His rosy lips are 
latched tightly around her nipple and teensy fingers 
flex open and closed against the softness of her breast 
in concert with his suckling mouth.  Mother and son 
watch each other with eyes the identical shade of blue.  
Four months later and she continues to be amazed by the 
sight of this miracle in her arms.  She has come to 
treasure these quiet moments with William.  Late at 
night, sitting in the rocker in his nursery, cuddling 
him close and feeling the rhythmic tug of his mouth on 
her breast, she was able to let everything else fall 
away.  For those few moments each night, when the 
streets were silent, she allowed the rest of the world 
and all of its worries and loneliness fade into 
the background.

But tonight, despite her focus on the child in her 
arms, she is intensely aware of his father standing on 
the other side of the room, watching them.  Holding 
out her hand, she beckons to him and he comes to her.

"Wow! When was the last time he ate?" Mulder laughs and 
pokes a forefinger toward William.  The baby is 
startled and her nipple falls from his mouth.  His 
lips are wet and he blows a milky bubble, which 
provokes his father into laughing again.  William's 
forehead furrows in a manner reminiscent of Scully.  
He lets out an agitated cry over his interrupted meal 
and Scully guides the baby's mouth back to her nipple.  
Once again slurping happily at his mother's breast, 
William accepts his father's proffered finger, 
squeezing it tightly in his little fist.

Finally sated, William's eyes grow heavy-lidded and his 
lips fall slack around the nipple in his mouth.  Mulder 
reaches with eager hands for his son and Scully eases 
the child into his waiting arms.  Mulder handles him 
with all of the awkwardness of a new father, gingerly 
lifting William to his shoulder.

"Just rub his back," Scully tells him as she fastens 
the cup of her nursing bra and buttons her shirt.  
Mulder's hand is huge against William's back.  He 
pushes to his feet to walk the perimeter of the room, 
whispering to the baby until he elicits the long-
awaited burp.  William fidgets in his arms for a few 
seconds before he nods off to sleep, his little bottom 
sagging heavily against Mulder's forearm.

Scully is curled up in one corner of the sofa, 
enthralled by the picture they make standing near the 
twinkling Christmas tree and she takes a mental 
snapshot of the moment to take home with her at the end 
of the week.

She's startled out of her reverie by the low rumble of 
his voice.

"Are you hungry?"  He looks over the top of William's 
head inquiringly.  Scully shakes her head.

"I'm more sleepy than hungry," she says.  Mulder nods 
and snatches up the duffle bag, slinging it over his 
other shoulder and hands her the diaper bag. 

"Let's go up, then."  He holds out a hand and helps her 
to her feet.  Cradling William carefully against his 
shoulder with one arm, he holds Scully's hand and 
she follows him up the stairs.

"There are three bedrooms and one bathroom," he 
explains as they climb toward the second floor.  He 
pushes open the door to the bathroom so that she can 
see it and then leads her to the master bedroom.

A queen-sized bed with a simple oak frame and headboard 
is centered in the room and covered with a thick, downy 
comforter.  Matching oak nightstands and a bureau 
compliment the bed.  The room boasts another fireplace 
and tall windows look out over the snow-covered 
meadows.  In a corner she spies two armchairs that have 
been pushed together.  A small blanket has been spread 
and tucked over the cushions and another is draped over 
the back of one chair, creating a cozy little nest.

"I wanted to get one of those portable cribs," he began 
apologetically, "but they don't carry items like that 
in the village nearby.  I hope this is okay."  He 
carries William toward the makeshift crib and 
hesitates, awaiting Scully's approval.

"It's perfect," she declares.  She takes William from 
Mulder and lays him on the bed, rooting through the 
diaper bag for a clean diaper and his pajamas.

"I'm going to go down to turn off the lights and bank 
the fire," Mulder tells her.  Scully smiles up at him 
and draws William's wet diaper away from his body.  
She quickly puts a fresh diaper on the baby and snaps 
him into his fleecy pajamas.  She lays him in his 
"crib" and tucks the blanket carefully around his 
tiny body.

She can hear Mulder moving around downstairs as she 
carries her toiletries bag to the bathroom to brush her 
teeth and wash some of the grit of two days of travel 
from her face.  By the time Mulder returns to the 
bedroom, she is bundled into warm pajamas and snuggled 
under the covers.  He moves quietly around the bedroom, 
tossing his wallet onto the bureau and stripping out of 
his clothes.  Moonlight streams through the window, 
gilding his naked body in silver for a moment before he 
draws a pair of flannel pajama bottoms over his legs 
and shrugs into a long-sleeved T-shirt.  She feels a 
momentary pang that she is too tired to do more than 
sleep with him in this big, warm bed.  It's been over a 
year since they last made love. Mulder had returned to 
her at a precarious time in an already troublesome 
pregnancy and had left two days after William's birth.  
If pressed, she can recount the exact number of days it 
has been since last she held this man's body within her 
own.

Mulder slides under the covers and immediately pulls 
her toward him.  Scully rests her head on his chest and 
thinks that tonight, sleeping in his arms will be 
enough.  They have a whole week together.  A week in 
which to make new memories to sustain them until the 
next time they manage to snatch some time together.  
And she is determined to make every moment of this week 
count.

She crooks one leg over his thighs, instinctively 
finding that most comfortable of places in his arms and 
lets out a delicate yawn.

"Good night, Mulder.  I love you."

His sighing drowsy reply makes her fall asleep with a 
smile on her face.

"Love you back..."

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

"Sleep, sleep, sleep...
'Tis the Eve of our Savior's Birth..."


When the dawn light just begins to break over the 
mountains looming in the distance, Mulder carefully 
pushes aside the covers and eases himself out of bed.  
He tiptoes over to William's little "crib" and 
carefully peeks in, meeting the wide-eyed stare of his 
child.  William has a thumb in his mouth and kick in 
his tiny feet... and judging by the smell wafting over 
Mulder's twitching nose, one hell of a load in his 
britches.  The odor is strong enough to make his eyes 
water -

Mulder finds himself delighted by the opportunity to 
perform something as blessedly normal as changing his 
son's poopy diapers.

Five minutes later, father and son are in the bathroom, 
on the floor.  William's little bare body wriggles and 
his grin is wide and gappy in his chubby face as 
Mulder cleans up the last of his mess and rinses him 
with a soft washcloth.  The diaper isn't overly 
difficult to figure out, and William is angelic in his 
behavior as his father struggles with the tabs. Finally 
the diaper is secure and the child is dressed once 
again in his fleecy sleeper, which survived leakage, 
thank goodness.  Mulder hefts him up and carries him 
into the kitchen, sitting him in his baby seat and 
propping him on the scrubbed oak table.  Poking his 
head into the refrigerator Mulder contemplates 
breakfast while William crams a fist into his mouth and 
sucks on it, creating an acceptable substitute for his 
mommy's nipple.

As he scrambles eggs and toasts wheat bread, Mulder 
coos to William and makes funny faces at him, eliciting 
more toothless smiles and an occasional baby-giggle. 
It's a moment of magic, one that Mulder would like to 
capture in a glass dome and keep forever.  He could 
shake the dome when he finds himself lonely and 
isolated; see the way his adorable son smiles while 
tiny bits of snow float around his downy head...   Then 
he shakes his own head in self-derision, thinking that 
he needs to be concentrating on the joy of this day 
rather than agonizing over the uncertain and bleak 
future.  His soft murmur to William causes the baby's 
little arms and legs to windmill in excitement.

"Okay, Buddy - let's go feed Mommy." Unsnapping 
William's safety straps, Mulder lifts him from the baby 
seat and swings him into his arm then picks up a filled 
plate with his other hand, and heads upstairs to awaken 
Scully.

The bedroom is cool and dark, but after depositing the 
plate on the nightstand Mulder snaps on the bathroom 
light and a soft glow shimmers over the room as he 
gently places William next to Scully's sleeping form.  
The baby's gurgling and cooing has his mother awake in 
a hurry, head popping off the pillow and looking 
confused for a moment before her eyes glance down and 
she sees her son grinning up at her, waving his arms 
and kicking his legs.  Mulder perches on the edge of 
the bed and watches the way her eyes light up and the 
eagerness of her arms as she scoops William into her 
embrace and snuggles him close.  The baby immediately 
begins to root for a nipple, and Mulder chuckles at the 
show of greed.  Scully hurriedly bares a breast for him 
and this time Mulder doesn't turn away at the intimate 
sight of his son being nourished at his mother's 
breast.  In the pale morning of their bedroom it's such 
a natural place for him to be - sitting close to the 
woman he loves while she feeds their son from her own 
body.  He picks up the plate of eggs and toast and his 
smile is decidedly wicked as he forks a hunk of still-
warm breakfast and brings it to Scully's lips.  

"Morning, Scully... open up.  You need your 
nourishment, too."  Her answering smile warms him from 
the inside out as she murmurs a reply before opening 
her mouth and allowing Mulder to feed her, the suckling 
baby cuddled between them.

"You made me breakfast... thank you, Mulder..."

The morning is slow to evolve and truthfully Mulder 
wouldn't have it any other way.  He's been on the run 
for months, moving from place to place.  He hasn't 
had much of an opportunity to just relax, not even in 
his sleep.  It's seemed as if he always had to be on 
his guard, watching and waiting.  Waiting for someone 
to recognize him. Waiting for the crash of his door at 
night and the stomp of feet, coming for him.  Worse 
yet, waiting to hear that final horrifying rumor, 
that these mysterious "They" finally gave up on him and 
zeroed in their efforts on Scully, and William...

He plays with William's little bare toes while Scully 
putters around in the bathroom, finishing up.  William 
is ecstatic to be lying on the bed, naked and 
unfettered except for his diaper.  The room is very 
warm and Mulder can well understand the pure fun of 
wriggling down into cozy flannel sheets.  He gets a 
grip on tiny toes and plays "This Little Piggy" with 
the gurgling baby, knowing full well that Scully stands 
in the doorway watching them, and her eyes are probably 
blurry with tears -

Just like his.

Later in the morning while Scully unpacks her things 
and puts them away and William takes his nap, Mulder 
heads outside to chop more wood.  They probably have 
enough stockpiled in the woodshed but there's no sense 
in taking chances. The day is very cold out but clear 
with a watery sun providing mostly visual warmth.  
Mulder splits enough extra logs to assure they make it 
through a month or more, and tries not to think about 
the fact that there will be plenty of wood left over 
when they leave in a week.

A week... Jesus.  Mulder leans on his axe and wipes off 
the sweat from his forehead.  How the hell is he going 
to be able to let them go in a week?

"Mulder?"  He snaps out of his funk to realize Scully 
is standing in front of him looking up at him with her 
worry lines in place.  She cups a palm around his 
cheek and Mulder finds himself leaning into her soft 
hand.  "What are you doing... planning on heating the 
entire countryside?"  Her chin points toward the huge 
pile of split logs and Mulder follows her gaze and his 
chuff of laughter is rich with the acknowledgment that 
he went overboard again.

"Guess it looks like a lot, doesn't it?  But we don't 
know how cold it's gonna get.  I've never been in this 
part of Canada so far into the winter season, so 
better to be safe than sorry - and I sure as hell don't 
want to be chopping wood in the middle of the night 
because we ran out!"  Resting the axe up against a 
stack of logs, he pulls Scully into his arms and 
snuggles her as close as he can with several layers of 
down, thermofill and flannel between them.  With a sigh 
she rests her head under his chin as her arms curl 
around his waist.  They press together and rock a 
little in their heavy boots.  And as if on cue it 
starts to snow softly, the storm clouds having moved in 
just as silently as the drifting crystallized flakes.

For Mulder it's another magical moment that he wishes 
like hell he could keep forever.  Their opportunities 
of holding each other like this have been so few 
and far between.  The platonic affection they enjoyed 
as partners evaporated into nothingness the first time 
he peeled the clothes from her trembling body 
and whispered his love to her as she absorbed him into 
her very soul.  And as with anything pure and perfect 
and priceless, that episode in their lives occurred 
with the rarity of a flawless diamond.  They knew it, 
even as they rose and fell against each other; even as 
they'd gripped and clasped and kissed and climaxed.  

Their reunion, before William's birth, was wracked with 
confusion and pain and worry - danger and so much 
uncertainty.  In reality they had almost no time 
together as a romantic couple and even less as proud 
parents - before Mulder had left.  Now they have a week 
and the desire to cram everything into those minutes 
and hours is strong.  

But right now, this minute... there's a gentle snowfall 
and the still of the day is absolute and muffled by the 
mountains surrounding them and the silence they 
keep sacred between themselves.  And yes, they need to 
talk.  Badly.

But not now.  Not this minute.  Maybe later...

Later comes, and with it a hungry William awakening 
from his nap and demanding his fair share of mother's 
milk.  While Mulder clears up the remains of their 
soup and sandwich lunch, Scully curls on the sofa in 
front of the roaring fireplace and nurses their son.  
William is especially greedy and demands a pull 
from each breast, so Scully indulges him by switching 
back and forth between nipples.  Mulder walks into the 
living room in time to see her working a loud 
burp from William's stuffed little tummy.  The sound 
ricochets around the quiet room and Mulder laughs 
aloud, startling his son.  He pulls his family into his 
arms and settles down into the sofa cushions, thinking 
that now might be a good time to talk...

"You want to talk, don't you?"  Scully's soft voice is 
firm and her eyes are clear and staring directly into 
his.  Mulder nods, and drops a gentle kiss on her lips, 
before he replies.

"I think we should.  I hate to break the mood but a 
week is gonna fly by so fast - and there are things we 
need to decide."  He lays the now-sleeping William 
into the folds of an afghan placed at the end of the 
sofa, and moves a corner of the low coffee table in 
front of the swaddled baby, just in case he moves 
around.  With their son secure Mulder faces Scully 
again, and takes her fully into his arms, locking his 
eyes with hers.  

"Scully... I can't come back yet.  I don't know how 
long it's going to be - if ever - before I can return 
to you.  The guys keep me posted on what's going on.  
Don't ask me how; the less you know the better.  And I 
hear things... about William."  At the mention of their 
son Scully's eyes get round with shock and she pushes 
away from him, enough to fully see into his earnest 
face.

"Things.  What kind of things, Mulder?  What?"  He 
sighs.

"I think you already know, don't you?  Our son is 
special.  Beyond the fact that he's our son and 
therefore a miracle in our eyes, he's also a miracle in 
other ways.  What makes him a miracle may also make him 
valuable in much the same way as Gibson Praise.  I'm 
not telling you anything you don't already know... and 
we have to face facts.  What I have heard so far is 
only rumor, faithfully reported by the guys.  Right now 
the bulk of those we fight against haven't got a clue 
about William - but sooner or later they will."  As he 
speaks Scully's blue eyes fill with tears and she 
swallows hard and ruthlessly forces them down.  Now 
isn't the time to show any weakness...

"I know, Mulder.  I know what William is capable of; 
I've seen it for myself.  And I know we're probably 
living in the public eye on borrowed time.  I've told 
myself I won't exist in fear and in the shadows; won't 
bring our son up to be afraid."  Mulder strokes her 
bright hair as she struggles to keep her voice level 
and calm.  "I can't deny that I need for you to come 
home.  It's been the hardest four months of my life, 
Mulder -  It has just about killed me.  But to keep you 
safe, I could put up with anything -" He interrupts 
her, taking her by the shoulders and gazing into her 
blurry eyes.

"Could you put up with a disappearing act, Scully?  
Could you leave it behind, if it meant keeping our baby 
safe and relatively free from harm?  If it meant that 
we could be together, could you say goodbye to your 
family and our friends, the way I've had to do?"  He 
watches her reaction carefully.  He knows she's 
thinking about her mother, first and foremost.  He 
knows the depth of pain a separation like that could 
cost her...  But this is his life, too.  And he's 
drowning in the loneliness and the loss of the two 
people in the world he cherishes and adores.  He's been 
drowning for four months -

"What are you saying, Mulder?  You want to keep us with 
you, on the run the way you've had to live?"  She pulls 
from his embrace and jumps to her feet, the jerking of 
the sofa awakening William who immediately begins to 
fuss and snuffle.  With a hard sigh Mulder scoops him 
out of the afghan nest and props the fretful child 
against his shoulder, rubbing a soothing palm over his 
little back.  As the baby quiets under his father's 
gentle hand, Scully begins to pace.

"I've thought about it, you know.  Jesus, you have no 
idea how often I've thought about it!  But how can I do 
it, Mulder?  What sort of a life can we offer a baby, 
running like that?  How many places have you lived in 
the last four months?  How many days have you stayed in 
each place?"  At the silence from the man who suddenly 
can't seem to meet her eyes, Scully plunges on.  

"And my mother, Mulder... how can I deprive her of 
William?  He's the only grandchild she gets to see on a 
somewhat regular basis.  She's given up on Charlie ever 
having children and she barely makes it out to Bill's 
to see the kids.  There's no easy way to simply say 
'Yes' to you!"  Her voice breaking up, Scully scrubs at 
her face hard with fingers that visibly tremble, and 
Mulder finds himself on his feet, bearing down into her 
personal space with William now gurgling happily 
against his neck.

"I'm not asking you to simply say 'yes' to me, Scully.  
There's nothing simple about this.  Yes, I've been on 
the run.  A lot.  I've stayed maybe a couple of weeks 
at the longest at any one place and I've zigzagged all 
over the goddamn continent to insure I stay invisible.  
I've been lucky so far.  And I've hated every second of 
it.  This isn't living, Scully... it's a slow death."  
Mulder rocks from side to side in an attempt to lull 
William back to sleep, and drops his voice to an 
intense murmur.

"I can't do this any longer.  Maybe it's only been four 
months but it feels like a fucking lifetime.  I've 
already missed way too much of William's life - and I 
ache for you, Scully.  I go to bed at night in pain and 
I don't sleep.  I wake up in the morning and I'm 
exhausted and sore and miserable and lonely.  I've 
lost a hell of a lot in my life but the sadness of 
those losses pales in comparison to the utter despair I 
felt when I shut that door between us and left with a 
suitcase in each hand."  

His own eyes moisten with tears when he sees the effect 
his words have on Scully's already stretched emotions.  
But he's reluctant let this go; afraid to let the 
decision waffle in the air while they waltz around it 
and attempt to maintain normalcy during the next 
several days.  He hates that he is pushing her.  But 
the trusting and sweet weight of his child is in his 
arms and the love of his life stands before him with 
worry etched into her beautiful face.  And Mulder feels 
like an utter shit for pressing his advantage...

But this is his life.  And hers.  He hoists William 
closer and leans his cheek on the baby's fuzzy little 
head.  When he speaks again he can see for himself 
how the poignancy of his gesture hits Scully like an 
arrow.

"Look... I know this is monumental to try and process, 
all in just one sitting.  I know you have far more in 
your life right now to consider, than just me.  You 
have your family to worry about and that burden was 
already lifted from me, so to speak."  He swallows 
hard, and his voice drops to a raspy whisper.  

"You and William are the reason I exist, Scully. That's 
it.  That's all there is - all that matters now.  I'm 
going to lay him down for a little while, see if he 
goes back to sleep.  Maybe we should just forget about 
this for a little while; do something together.  
Nothing needs to be decided immediately."  

When she sighs and nods wearily, Mulder smiles a 
little, in relief.  He leans into Scully and places a 
nibbling little kiss on her lower lip, then straightens 
and winks at her, turning toward the stairway.  
Carrying the sleeping baby up to his nap, Mulder thinks 
to himself that regardless of the rest of the days' 
activities this subject will weigh heavily on their 
minds, especially Scully's. He snuggles William down 
into the middle of their bed and places pillows all 
around him, securing his movements.  Leaving a light on 
and the door open in case the child awakens, Mulder 
heads back downstairs, rubbing at his tired eyes.

This is his life he's fighting for.  This time it's too 
important for mere acquiescence.  He won't lose them...

Not again.

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

The rest of the day passes quickly as Mulder does his 
best to entertain both Scully and William. The radio in 
the kitchen is tuned to a station playing holiday 
standards.  Bing Crosby's rendition of 'White 
Christmas' inspires Mulder to bundle his family into 
layers of warm clothing before taking them outside.  
He holds William close to his chest, protecting the 
baby from the gusts of wind that whip around them and 
send the falling snowflakes into a crazy, swirling 
dance.  

His free hand is wrapped firmly around Scully's as they 
tromp through pristine tracts of snow.  Mulder pauses 
when a small herd of deer carefully picks its way out 
of the woods surrounding the cabin and steps into the 
clearing.  He turns to the side and tries to direct 
William's attention toward the deer.  The baby's cheeks 
are pink with the cold and he is more interested in 
chewing on the drawstring securing the hood of his 
snowsuit around his face than he is in watching the 
deer.  Mulder whispers to the baby who merely squeals 
and slaps one mittened hand against his father's face.  
The deer bound back into the woods at the sound of 
William's happy shriek and Mulder turns to Scully with 
a look of amused exasperation.  He finds her eyes fixed 
on him and William.  The fur trim of the hood covering 
her bright hair frames her face.  Her eyes are a clear, 
startling blue.  Her cheeks are reddened from the cold 
and Mulder decides he's never seen a sight more lovely 
- as he finds himself inspired once again.  

She waits in breathless anticipation as he lowers his 
face to hers.  Their lips are cold when they touch but 
the heat of their shared breath warms them.  Scully 
raises up on her toes and curves a gloved hand over the 
knit cap that covers Mulder's dark hair as she deepens 
the kiss.  For a moment, they are oblivious to 
everything around them but William won't be ignored for 
long.  He lets loose with another high-pitched squeal 
and his flailing arm knocks Scully's hood askew.  She 
feels Mulder's lips curve against her own and opens her 
eyes to find him smiling down at her.  They break apart 
and make their way back to the cabin.

Inside, they quickly change into dry clothes.  Mulder 
stretches out on the sofa and he and William settle 
down for a nap.  Mulder's large hands rest protectively 
on the baby's back as William sprawls on his tummy.  
The baby shifts around seeking a comfortable position 
on his father's chest and two of his fingers find their 
way into his mouth as he tumbles into sleep with Mulder 
following soon after.

Scully brews a cup of tea and curls up on the loveseat, 
an afghan thrown over her legs.  She had allowed Mulder 
to distract her from their earlier conversation but 
now, sitting quietly as the shadows lengthen around the 
cabin and darkness falls; while William and Mulder 
slumber peacefully on the sofa, she can do little else 
but think.

What's the right decision? Scully wonders.  If it 
weren't for William, she would never have allowed 
Mulder to go off on his own.  She would have followed 
him wherever life and fate took him, just as she had 
always done.  Surely he knows that.  She stares through 
the window into the growing darkness as the snow 
continues to fall and from all angles thinks about the 
situation they have found themselves.  

She would miss her mother - there was no doubt about 
that - but despite her earlier words, she not will 
allow leaving her mother behind to color her decision.  
When Margaret Scully married into the Navy, she had 
left her own mother behind.   Over the years, she and 
the children followed husband and father from naval 
base to naval base; Margaret's primary focus centered 
on keeping her family together.  She, better than 
anyone, would understand her daughter's decision to put 
her own family first - if that is the decision 
eventually reached.  

Scully rubs her eyes and looks moodily around the room, 
staring at the tree in the corner for a minute before 
allowing her gaze to fall on Mulder and William once 
again.  She had a picture of them just like this, taken 
the day after they had arrived back in D.C. after 
William's birth.  Mulder had been caring for William, 
affording Scully the opportunity to take a much-desired 
shower.  When she came back into the living room, she 
had found Mulder and the baby sprawled across her sofa, 
sound asleep.  She'd snatched up a camera and snapped a 
picture; unaware at the time that it would be one of 
the few pictures she would have of Mulder and their 
son.  Later, when reality had set in, Scully had taken 
picture after picture of father and son.  She had gone 
through an entire roll of film in the short time they 
had together while hastily helping Mulder pack his 
belongings and make frantic arrangements for his 
disappearance.

Scully sighs and stands, padding into the kitchen on 
feet clad in heavy woolen socks, to begin preparing 
their Christmas Eve dinner.  She has always found the 
rhythm of household chores helps to clear her head so 
that she can think.  She hopes that today will be no 
different.

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

She hears Mulder and William stirring in the living 
room a little more than an hour later.  The snow has 
stopped falling and the moon appears and disappears 
behind the storm clouds that are making their way to 
the coast.  The living room is dark, with the exception 
of the twinkling lights on the tree and the fire 
dancing in the hearth, but the kitchen is ablaze in 
warm light.

"Can I help?"  Mulder asks in a sleep-roughened voice.  
Scully wipes her hands on a towel and take William from 
Mulder's arms.  Securing the baby in his infant 
seat, she smiles.

"Sure."  She nods toward the counter.  "Potatoes need 
peeling."

They work together and in due time they sit down to a 
holiday meal of roasted chicken, potatoes, fresh and 
frozen vegetables and biscuits from a can of 
refrigerated dough.  They speak quietly of everyday 
things like William's sleep patterns and where Mulder 
had gone to purchase the ingredients for their dinner.  
They work together when they finish eating to clean up 
before moving back into the living room.  

Scully lifts William from his seat where he has been 
patiently awaiting his own dinner and sinks down onto 
the sofa to nurse him.  She can feel Mulder's eyes on 
them and she knows that he is wondering if she has come 
to any decisions.  She also knows that for tonight at 
least, Mulder is willing to let the topic rest.

"That's for you," she says and points to a square box 
gaily wrapped in foil paper under the tree.  Mulder is 
startled; he hadn't noticed the gift until now.

"You don't want to wait until tomorrow?" he asks 
curiously.  She shakes her head.

"No.  Open it now," she requests softly.  Mulder 
crosses the room and retrieves the package from beneath 
the tree.  He returns and sits on the floor near her 
feet, facing her.  

"Your gift is upstairs," he tells her as he starts to 
climb back to his feet.  She holds out her hand and 
motions him back to the floor.

"Later," she says.  "I want you to open your gift now.  
Please?"  Mulder rests the box over his knees and tears 
the heavy foil paper away in three large pieces.  He 
removes the lid from the box and pulls back the tissue 
paper, lifting out a large book.  He pushes the empty 
box to the floor and cradles the book on his knees, 
riffling through the pages quickly, gasping softly as 
the contents flash before his eyes.

Mulder glances up with a questioning look on his face 
and sees her gentle smile.  He pulls the book cover 
open again and studies each page carefully.  The first 
page bears a photocopy of William's birth certificate.  
The second page bears the imprint of tiny hands and 
feet memorialized in ink and paper.  The third page 
holds a photograph of Scully holding William in her 
arms as she herself is wrapped in Mulder's arms.  A 
picture taken by her mother when they weren't 
looking...  

The fourth page holds the picture of father and son 
sleeping together on the sofa in Scully's apartment.  
The rest of that roll of film graces the next few 
pages in varying sizes from that of a regular snapshot 
to a wonderful 8 x 10 photograph of Mulder easing 
William into his bassinet.

More pictures follow.

"There are over one hundred and twenty pictures," 
Scully tells him.  From the day Mulder was forced to 
leave, Scully has taken pictures of their son, 
capturing each day of his life on film to be placed 
into this book as a gift to his father.  In her neat, 
Catholic schoolgirl penmanship, she has inscribed the 
date in the upper right hand corner and kept a written 
account of every milestone in his short life. "Today, 
William smiled for the first time," is accompanied by a 
photograph of a gummy smile and unfocused eyes looking 
somewhere toward the camera and the sound of his 
mother's voice.

Mulder knuckles a tear from the corner of his eyes and 
smiles when reaching a picture of William in a blue 
plastic tub getting a bath.  He can almost hear the 
gurgling laughter and splashing water.

"I didn't want you to miss out on his life," Scully 
tells him quietly.  She smoothes a hand over the downy 
tufts of reddish-brown hair covering William's head and 
eases the drowsy baby away from her breast, lifting him 
onto her shoulder.

"I knew at the time that it was a poor replacement for 
the real thing," she says apologetically.  "I told 
myself it was better than nothing."  Her hand rubs in 
soothing circles over William's tiny back.  "I know now 
that I was wrong."  As her eyes meet his Scully adds in 
a murmur, "I need you to just listen, Mulder - okay?  
Don't speak.  Listen..."

Mulder nods, eyes fastened on her face hopefully, 
hungrily - as he awaits her next words.

"I don't want you to have to get to know your son 
through pictures.  But Mulder... there is more to being 
a good parent than simply keeping him safe," she tells 
him.  "It will be difficult enough to move from place 
to place with him now, but when he gets older... even 
in another year or two... he's going to need more."  
Mulder nods eagerly and Scully presses on.  While she 
was cooking dinner, she had more or less arrived at her 
decision, but she needs to talk it through with Mulder 
now to be sure that it's the right one.  

"We have to provide stability and that means things 
like the same bed in the same home every night.  
Children need constancy and things that we alone cannot 
provide him."

She closes her eyes, savoring the solid weight of her 
baby in her arms, his sweet, warm breath blowing 
against her neck in even puffs as he sleeps safe and 
secure.  When she opens them again they lock on Mulder.  
She's got to make him understand.

"He'll need to go to school - I know we could home 
school him if necessary - but he needs friends and 
structure and to learn to get along with other people.   
If he's going to survive, he'll need to develop social 
skills as well as to learn how to protect himself.  We 
need to figure out a way to give him all of those 
things, Mulder."

Mulder nods again and rises up onto his knees in front 
of her.  He trails his fingers over her cheek and 
lowers his lips to press a kiss into his son's hair.  
He doesn't speak yet, for he promised her he'd listen - 
and he knows she has more to say.  Instead he climbs 
onto the sofa with them and gathers his family 
into his arms.

Scully rests her head on his shoulder. "I don't think 
that I can raise a happy and healthy child if I'm 
miserable," she admits softly.  "And I have been 
miserable without you, Mulder."  She swallows around 
the lump lodged in her throat and blinks a tear from 
her eyes.  "I need to be with you... WE need to be 
with you," she amends.  Mulder's arms tighten 
convulsively around her as relief pours through him.

"But, Mulder..." Scully twists her head to meet his 
eyes.  "I won't just disappear without explaining 
things to my mother," she warns him.  "We have to 
figure out a way for me to get word to her."  Until she 
met Mulder, her mother had always been the one person 
in Scully's life on whom she was able to lean and 
put down her burdens and her heart is breaking at the 
thought of having to leave her behind.  Her eyes are 
filled with sadness with the realization that she may  
never see her mother again and she makes no effort to 
hide the pain that darkens her expression.

"The guys..." Mulder offers softly, but stops when she 
shakes her head.

"No.  I may never have a chance to talk to her again," 
Scully whispers in a choked voice.  "I won't say 
goodbye to her through a third party."  She grips 
his shirt in her fist.  "Please, Mulder..."  Her voice 
is pleading... breaking.  "We have to think of a way."  
He nods in agreement.  He can deny her nothing and 
she asks for so little from him... in return giving him 
the ONLY thing that he wants. 

"I promise, Scully.  We'll find a way."  He smoothes 
his fingers over her cheek again and she releases a 
shaky breath.

"Okay," she says as she buries her face in his neck.  
"Then we're staying with you," she promises.  They 
embrace, staying very close while William curls in 
sleep between them - and then Scully raises her head 
and her eyes are moist with emotion but her words are 
meant to tease.

"So, Mulder... you gonna sit on my present all night?  
Can I open it now?"

His eager steps bouncing up the stairs toward the 
bedroom has her laughing aloud.


End Part 1 of 2

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

STILL, STILL, STILL
Part 2 of 2

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


As he rummages through one of his duffel bags for the 
hastily wrapped gift, Mulder finds himself sinking to 
the floor as a new flood of relief sweeps through him 
and renders his legs rubbery and useless.  Aftershocks, 
he decides.  He tries to tell himself that he was never 
worried for a moment; that Scully would choose her 
family over him.  But of course, he was - frantic and 
worried and very scared.

He could withstand any amount of daily shit tossed his 
way, if Scully shared his life and his love.  He'd put 
up with seven years of several varieties of it in his 
need to stay in the basement and keep her as his 
partner.  Looking back on their personal and 
professional history Mulder knows without a doubt that 
he may have started with a quest to find his sister but 
he ended with the discovery of the love of his life and 
the sure knowledge that she deserved so much more than 
his devotion.

But she has chosen him... as a mate.  As a father to 
their child.  The future they make between them will be 
very difficult, and lonely.  He knows what homesickness 
is and he hates the thought that Scully will suffer it 
whenever she craves the sight of her mother and 
brothers.  

He also knows what it feels like to never feel safe.  
To wonder when he'll finally be found - and what will 
happen to him when he is.  Now he's asking Scully to 
enter that unsafe world, and all he can feel is elation 
layered upon the worry that he's determined to tamp 
down, minimize.  She loves him - that's all that 
matters.  That's all there is...

Shaking the worry from his mind Mulder finishes digging 
in the duffel bag and pulls out a box wrapped in gold 
paper and tied with a red ribbon.  As he carries it 
downstairs he refuses to think about the future in any 
terms except glowing. 

In the living room William is cocooned in the afghan, 
sleeping soundly.  Scully sits and stares into the 
fire; Mulder can see her pensive expression break into 
a smile as he joins her on the sofa, and holds out the 
box.  She takes it and turns it around in her hands, 
meeting his serious stare with one quirked eyebrow.

"I like the paper, Mulder.  Can I rattle it?"  Her 
voice is mischievous, and Mulder returns her smile as 
he shakes his head regretfully.

"No, you can't rattle it!  It's fragile.  Just open it, 
okay?"  With an eager nod, Scully tugs at the ribbon 
and tears at the paper, to reveal a simple shoebox-
sized crate made of wood.  There's a brass latch on the 
lid and as Scully runs a curious hand over the 
smoothness of the wood, Mulder urges softly, "Open it, 
Baby..."  She smiles at the endearment and her fingers 
are a little wobbly as she gently flicks the brass 
latch, and opens the crate.

Inside there's a handful of shredded manila packing 
paper and nestled beneath is a pouch made of what 
appears to be steamed wood, shaped into a cylinder.  
The wood is soft and supple and almost has the texture 
of leather.  Burned into the outer flap is her name.  
Fascinated, Scully pulls at the cord holding the pouch 
together and it falls open to reveal a hexagon-shaped 
antique bottle.  Inside the bottle is a tightly rolled 
up scroll of what looks like parchment paper.  A small 
cork seals the bottle; Scully carefully lifts it out of 
its protective nest and holds it up, turning it around 
in her hands.

"Mulder... I don't believe this.  Where did you get 
this?  Is that bottle as old as it looks?  Can I open 
it?"  The questions shoot from her and Mulder chuckles 
as he replies.

"Believe it, Scully.  And it's none of your business 
where I got it... and yes, the bottle is genuinely 
old... and you can certainly open it!  So why don't you 
do just that?"  

A few seconds later Scully is in tears as she reads the 
scroll of parchment paper that was rolled up inside her 
very own 'message in a bottle' that Mulder had 
commissioned for her.  The words he wrote months ago 
are still as fresh in his mind today as when he penned 
them late one night when the loneliness and need for 
her had about doubled him over...

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

'There is a time of the night when stars are obscured 
by the clouds that hide the moon -

And I lie in a bed somewhere and remember.  How 
delicate is the satin skin under
your left ear.

How just the bend of one elbow can be a work of art.

How a small lopsided smile can make my entire year.  

How your touch makes me rise so far above the 
atmosphere that I have to look down to see Heaven.

How I love you - need you - want you with an urgency 
bordering on pain.

How I am thankful, so thankful - that you're safe 
somewhere, and caring for our son.

And if we should keep this distance always; if we 
should never see each other again...
I'll know that I've at least had one perfect moment of 
your love.

One perfect kiss.  One perfect hand in mine; one 
perfect coming together of hearts and minds, and 
bodies.  One perfect child.  

I'll know I've had these things - and I'll rejoice that 
of all the men in this world that could have had that 
moment... you gave it to me.

You gave it into my hands willingly, and perfectly - 
and I will never feel anything but so very loved, 
because of this gift.

I love you...'

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

"I've been carrying this around, for about a month.  I 
almost sent it, a couple of times.  Once I almost 
jumped in my clunker and drove into DC and to your 
place, thinking I could just sneak it into your bedroom 
while you were asleep.  Maybe prop it on your pillow, 
awaken you with kisses, make love to you all night 
long... Kiss William and then just slip away before 
dawn."  Mulder's voice is hoarse with emotion as he 
explains about the gift in Scully's hands.

"But I didn't dare run the risk of endangering you and 
the baby... so I stayed away.  Decided to just mail it 
to you in time for Christmas.  I was getting it ready 
to pack up when Byers called - and the rest of the 
story you already know."  Mulder holds her gaze, 
watches her eyes fill again - holds out his arms and 
feels her climb into his lap and his embrace. Clasping 
her tightly against his accelerated heartbeat, Mulder 
pushes his face into her neck and swallows a huge lump 
of emotion stuck somewhere in his throat.

"I wanted you to know what's in my heart, Scully.  In 
case I never got to see you again.  I was going to have 
one made for William, too.  Something he could open 
when he starts to read - say, in a year or two."  At 
her teary snort of laughter, Mulder squeezes her 
tightly, and added, "I needed you to never be in any 
doubt of the depth of my love for you, and our baby.  I 
wanted you to have something tangible that you could 
hold in your hands."  

When Scully raises her head and stares into his eyes, 
framing his face in her hands, the words she speaks 
echo everything he is feeling, thinking.

"Mulder... I have that tangible love of yours; he's 
snuggled into that afghan next to you.  I knew exactly 
what was in your heart the night we first came 
together, and I have never doubted it for a moment 
since.  Not even when you were returned and those days 
before William's birth were so dark and confusing.  I 
may have been unsure of a lot of things but never of 
you."  Keeping one hand against Mulder's cheek Scully 
picks up the scroll with the other and her eyes are 
glistening as she adds, "I love this, Mulder... it's 
the best gift I have ever received.  Well, besides the 
gift of your love... and of your son."

The kiss they share is slow and soft and filled with 
the promise of a night brimming with sweet reunion.  
For a little while longer, they snuggle on the sofa, 
their slumbering son between them and their gifts to 
each other side by side on the oak coffee table. 

Time passes slowly as the realization of the certainty 
of their love and commitment - not to mention the 
enormity of their decision and how it will impact on 
their lives - hits them. Fear wars with excitement and 
anxiety battles with hope, but in the end it is 
tentative joy that wins the day.

Scully shifts William into the cradle of her arms.  
"He'll sleep through the night, I think.  He can open 
his presents - well, YOU can open his presents and show 
them to him, 'Daddy' - tomorrow," she whispers 
teasingly... lovingly.  Mulder smiles and nods; they 
look down at this miracle child of theirs and share a 
sweet moment known to new parents throughout the ages. 

"Let's go up," Mulder murmurs. He climbs to his feet 
and takes the baby into his arms as Scully stands 
beside him.  Entering the bedroom, Scully rummages 
through the bureau for William's pajamas and motions to 
Mulder who lays the baby on the bed.  He watches in 
fascination as Scully pulls off William's clothes and 
changes him into a fresh diaper and clean pajamas 
without once waking him.  She lifts William from the 
bed and brings him to his father for a good night kiss, 
happily given.  Scully brushes her own lips over the 
baby's silky cheek before laying him into his makeshift 
crib and covering him with a blanket.

She returns to the bed and stretches out on top of the 
covers.  Her head turns on the pillow and she meets 
Mulder's eyes as he sits perched on the end of the 
mattress.  His gaze is adoring, eyes glowing with 
need...  She holds out her arms and Mulder eagerly 
moves toward her.  She pulls him down until he is 
stretched out on top of her.  She parts her denim-clad 
legs and as he settles more fully against her, she 
wraps all four limbs around him.  

It feels so good - and it's been much, much too long 
since the warm cradle of her body has encompassed his.

Long moments pass and they do little more than embrace; 
her hands running up and down the length of his back; 
his lips feathering over her temple in the softest of 
kisses.  She can feel her body actually liquefy under 
the weight of him; his hardening in response. Nervous 
excitement coils in her stomach, disrupting the 
tranquility of only a moment earlier.

Mulder can feel the slight tremor running through her.  
Nervous butterflies... he can relate for they assail 
him as well.  The baby whuffs in his sleep and Mulder 
wonders if they should stay up here where possible 
disruptions could break the tentative and fragile mood 
already established.  

"Maybe we should go back downstairs," he whispers with 
a glance over his shoulder toward the sleeping baby.  
She shakes her head and tugs his shoulder to bring his 
attention back to her.

"No.  Let's stay here where it's warm and cozy."  

Mulder shrugs, deciding to tease her a bit.  "I seem to 
remember that you can be a screamer..." he says in an 
innocent voice.  Scully's eyes widen and an attractive 
blush stains her cheeks.

"Mulder!" she hisses.  She slaps one hand lightly 
against his shoulder and returns the grin he sends her 
way with a cheeky smile.  She leans up a little and 
brings her mouth closer to his.

"Then I guess you'll have to do your best to find a way 
to keep me quiet," she says with a challenging look in 
her blue eyes.  Mulder's head immediately swoops down 
to cover her mouth with his.  He knows all the best 
ways to mute his woman - and he's waited months to show 
her...

Her lips part eagerly to allow him entry and their 
tongues meet and mate in a battle for control.  The 
kiss is both carnal and gentle and Scully thinks that 
she could happily kiss him forever.

She had spent years fantasizing about his mouth and she 
had only had a few short months to learn that yes, his 
lips were as velvety soft as she had imagined them to 
be.  And yes, his kisses were at times heartstoppingly 
demanding; breathtakingly gentle and oh so tender.  
Hungry one moment and worshipping the next... she had 
never been kissed that way before - never.  

In the months when he'd been missing, and again over 
the last four months, she had not forgotten what it was 
like to be kissed by this man.  She had fed on her 
memories of the way he had tasted... of coffee when he 
stole a kiss from her in the office... of salt from a 
kiss shared over a bowl of popcorn and a movie... of 
toothpaste when he would crowd her up against the 
bathroom door in the mornings, making them almost 
dangerously late for work... 

Now she is once again wrapped in his arms, and she 
doesn't have to rely on memories as she reacquaints 
herself with the familiar weight of his body crushing 
her into the bedcovers, with the fullness of his lower 
lip, the silkiness of the lining of his cheeks, the 
sleekness of his tongue tangling with her own.  Their 
kisses are languid, their explorations leisurely and 
thorough.  And soon... the unhurried pace is not 
enough.

Mulder's hand slips beneath the hem of her shirt, 
pushing the flannel material up only to encounter the 
waffle-weave of a thermal undershirt.  His low curse is 
muffled against her jaw as he tugs her undershirt free 
of the waistband of her jeans.  Her stomach contracts 
under his exploring touch and she gasps softly as his 
fingers glide over her ribcage to toy with the elastic 
edge of her bra.

"Naked," he groans near her ear.  "I want you naked."  
Scully nods and struggles to rid herself of the 
unwanted items of clothing.  She skims the straps of 
the unadorned nursing bra down her arms and tosses it 
onto the floor next to the bed along with the flannel 
and thermal shirts.  Her nipples pucker both from the 
cool air and the heat of Mulder's gaze.  He cups her 
breasts in his warm palms.  What before had been 
perfect handfuls, now threaten to overflow his large 
hands.  He swipes a thumb over one rigid nipple and 
immediately a droplet of milk pearls on the tip of her 
breast.  The sight of that one drop is as arousing to 
him as it is sacred...  

He has to have that miniscule taste of her - has to 
know the one thing about her that only his son knows...

Mulder's eyes darken and Scully holds her breath as he 
lowers his head to her breast, his tongue darting out 
to lift the bead of milk into his mouth. At once 
another droplet wells up and Mulder's tongue rasps 
gently over her breast to lap it up.  He can feel her 
body tighten in his arms, and for a moment he's so 
overwhelmed by the significance of what he's doing that 
he forgets she may be uncomfortable by his actions.  He 
presses another gentle kiss into the damp, milky skin, 
then lifts his head and meets her wide, uncertain gaze.

"You sustain life, Scully.  William's life, and now 
mine.  I had to know what it was like, to receive that 
kind of nourishment from you - and I feel all the more 
cherished now, having shared something this amazing 
with you, and with our son."

These words are whispered softly to her before he 
lowers his lips to her breast and draws the nipple into 
his mouth.  Her womb contracts and a low, pleasant 
throbbing begins to pulse between her legs in concert 
with the gentle tugging of his mouth on her breast... 
and she surprises them both as she bursts into tears.

Mulder lets her nipple slip from his mouth as he raises 
his head to look at her in concern.  "Scully?" His 
worried face hovers over hers and she forces a 
trembling smile to her lips.

"It's okay," she whispers.  "I'm okay.  I'm just... 
it's just... it's been so long, so hard to be apart 
from you with only a memory of what it felt like to be 
held, and kissed, especially there... and God, loved 
like this... just like this!"  

She pulls him back into her arms and he cradles her 
close.  Her hands clutch at him tightly and the 
strength of her embrace is a welcoming home that he's 
needed so very badly.  

They hold onto each other for a moment or two, and then 
ease apart slowly.  "Your shirt is wet," she exclaims 
quietly as she looks at the twin damp patches on the 
front of his shirt where her breasts had been flattened 
by their tight embrace.  Strangely, she doesn't feel 
embarrassed, not at all.  She feels... pride.  Pride in 
being not only someone's mother, but also someone's 
woman, his necessity - HIS reason for being.  Bending 
close, Scully places her mouth over one of the damp 
spots on Mulder's shirt, and tastes what her body is 
capable of creating.  And under her mouth Mulder's 
heart now beats loud as thunder.  She smiles into 
him...

"You'd better take it off."  Her tears have been 
replaced with a suggestive smile and Mulder happily 
tugs the shirt over his head in an effort to comply 
with her demand.  She slips her fingers under the 
waistband of his jeans, dipping them teasingly into his 
belly button.  Their eyes meet again and they begin 
tearing the remainder of their clothing from their 
bodies in dual urgency. 

There is a chill in the room that the fire burning low 
in the hearth cannot completely dispel but already a 
fine sheen of sweat coats their bodies.  Scully's 
fingers trail over Mulder's lightly muscled stomach 
before brushing over the tip of his penis.  She wraps 
one hand around his quivering flesh and can feel his 
pulse beating beneath her fingers.  A corresponding 
throbbing is centered between her own legs.  Her thumb 
swirls over the satiny head and a drop of slippery 
white fluid wells beneath her finger.  She wants 
nothing more at this moment than to taste him the way 
he had tasted her.

For Mulder the need to connect with her after so many 
starving months is almost his undoing.  Her hand on him 
feels wonderful but it only gives him a small portion 
of what his body is screaming for.  And he remembers 
the last time they were together, all those months ago, 
their bodies aligned in the most erotic fashion... he 
wants to begin that way.  It's only fitting, he thinks 
-

When Scully begins to slither down his body, he curves 
his palm around her arm and stops her.  She raises her 
head to protest and Mulder lifts a finger to her lips, 
shushing her before she can speak.

"Like this," he murmurs into the stillness of the room.  
She shudders with excitement as he maneuvers them on 
top of the mattress until they are positioned to his 
satisfaction.  His breath is a warm puff of air against 
the soft skin of her thighs while his musky scent fills 
her nostrils.  Another droplet of moisture beads on the 
tip of his erection and this time there is nothing to 
stop her from tasting him as she delicately lifts his 
milky essence with the tip of her tongue.  

That simple touch is almost too much for Mulder, and he 
fights to keep it together, to keep from exploding.  
Months of enforced abstinence have taken their toll on 
his control.  During the time they have been apart his 
need for her, and her alone, superseded even his desire 
to find any sort of substitute release... he'd been 
determined that the next time a hand sought him, it 
would be hers, and not his.  And he's so glad he held 
out; so glad he waited... because now, everything 
within him; everything he has, is hers.  All of him, 
every drop of him...

Scully groans as his fingers comb through the nest of 
auburn curls between her legs, exposing her to his own 
exploring mouth and her concentration wavers at the 
first lapping stroke of his tongue.  Her fingers dig 
into the strong muscles of his thigh as in turn her 
tongue paints a wet, swirling design over the smooth 
head of his penis.  Her focus is split between the 
lovely, languorous sweeps he delivers over her wet and 
swollen flesh and the feel of his arousal between her 
lips.  Mulder's scent and taste fills her mouth, nose 
and lungs.  Delicious... addicting.  She wants more, so 
much more -

She lets him slip from her mouth and raises her face to 
see the intensely erotic sight of his dark head buried 
between her pale thighs.  She turns her face into the 
hard muscles of his leg, bucking her hips sharply when 
he slips one finger into her tight opening and gently 
bites down on the center of her pleasure.  Her breath 
escapes her in a wordless gasp.  She opens her eyes 
again and she sees his flesh straining toward her, 
demanding her attention.  Her lips close over him as 
she draws him back into her mouth.  Their hands knead, 
mouths probe and explore; the pace is languid and then 
demanding as they drive each other closer and closer to 
the brink.

Scully's toes begin to tingle and she knows she is 
close... so close.  Mulder's tongue flicks over her 
flesh and she squirms as the prickling sensation builds 
and builds.  His fingers lock onto her thighs in a 
punishing grip as he holds her still under the 
onslaught of his mouth.  She wants to soar into 
release... she wants to bring him with her... she wants 
him buried deep inside of her.

He wants to feel her, shuddering wildly underneath his 
mouth... convulsing madly around him as he pounds into 
her, worshipping her with his last shred of resolve... 
he wants to be everywhere at once, inside the heat of 
her mouth and deep inside the furnace of her body.  He 
wants it all.  And before this night, he'll have it 
all...  His tongue moves quicker... harder.

"Wait!" Scully raises her head and Mulder's hips jerk 
involuntarily toward the lost heat of her mouth.  She 
knots her fingers in his hair and pulls sharply.  He 
turns his head to rest his cheek on the smooth skin of 
her thigh and meets her eyes.  Flushed cheeks and 
swollen lips, moist with her wetness... 

God.  She had almost forgotten the utter beauty of this 
man, in the full-blown throes of his passion. 

His hair is mussed and falls wildly over his forehead, 
giving him a disheveled and amazingly attractive look.  
His eyes are heavy-lidded and slumberous; he nods in 
response to her wordless plea before pulling himself up 
the length of her body.  Their lips meet in a hungry 
kiss and she tastes herself and him as his tongue 
plunges into her mouth.

Delicious...

"Now," she gasps when they break apart to pull air into 
their starved lungs.  Mulder leans back against the 
pillows and helps her to climb astride his body.  Her 
knees settle on either side of his thighs and she 
braces her hands on his shoulders for support as he 
sinks the first inch or two into her body.  She 
squeezes her eyes closed and bites her lip... it's been 
so long.  Mulder lightly rests his hands on her hips, 
allowing her to take the lead as his hot flesh 
penetrates hers.  Finally, she is stretched to the 
point of fullness and he is buried deep, deep within 
her.  

Neither of them moves.  Not right away.  It's enough to 
stay very still and absorb the matchless feel of this 
long-awaited connection.  And they remember this 
feeling; oh, they remember it very well even though 
it's been over a year.  Clinging and wet and hot and 
soft and hard and joyous and sweet, so sweet - 
everything they need and all they'll ever want and it 
has to last all night... has to last them forever.

Scully takes a moment to admire their joined bodies, 
gleaming wetly and burnished by the firelight before 
she pushes up on her knees, letting him slip nearly 
free of her body.  She wants to watch the face of the 
man she adores, as she moves down upon him...

"Fuck," he whispers as she reseats herself in his lap, 
grinding her hips into his.  He's not going to make it 
past a few strokes, at the slow and torturous pace she 
sets for them.  It's killing him and he is loving it, 
though he can't help but growl at her when she bites 
back a smile at his low-uttered curse.  Once again she 
rises above him and falls again.  Her hands dig into 
his shoulders and his fingers grind into the soft flesh 
of her thighs... she knows she will be bruised tomorrow 
and doesn't care. She cares only about the burning ache 
centered between her legs and the look of pleasured 
pain on Mulder's face.  Together they find the rhythm 
they like and remember so well as Mulder pushes himself 
into her and she falls against him over and over again.

The tension builds and Scully laughs softly with the 
sheer joy of having this man within her body after 
months of lonely isolation.  She pulls her hands from 
his shoulders to push her heavy, sweat-dampened hair 
away from her face and moans low in her throat when 
Mulder lunges forward to take her breast between his 
lips again.  A sharp arrow of pleasure spears through 
her from breast to womb and the intensity of his 
counter-movements leave her breathless.  But she 
doesn't need to breathe...

Her mouth opens in a silent gasp of surprised delight 
as a wave of ecstasy explodes between her legs and 
radiates through her whole body.  Her inner muscles 
clench and release around him as tiny contractions race 
through her - and Mulder frantically rolls her beneath 
him.

He's dying for release but he can't bear to have it 
end, not yet - he hears himself chanting hoarsely into 
the damp hair at her temple, "So good it's so good been 
too long, Baby too long..."  His flesh pumps into hers 
- driving, pounding, searching - and her hands curl 
over his hips as she pulls him deeper with every thrust 
of his body against her.  She turns her lips to his ear 
and whispers words of love and encouragement to him.

"God, yes... so good, Mulder.  So good.  Missed you... 
missed us."  She scrapes her teeth over his beard-
stubbled jaw and pulls his earlobe between her lips.  
Her words are meant to enflame him, and they do; they 
make him tighten and thrum within her.

"Come now... please.  Come for me..."  Her hand slips 
between their bodies to lightly scrape her nails over 
his balls.  His chest is heaving and his movements are 
growing more and more erratic.  Suddenly, he stiffens 
in her arms and muffles his hoarse shout in the soft 
flesh of her throat. She feels his seed pump into her 
and bathe her with its welcome heat.  As he grinds his 
hips into her, she blinks, unprepared for the tiny pop 
of pleasure that bursts between her legs once again, 
sending a tingling aftershock into her toes and 
fingers.

Mulder collapses in her arms, his weight pressing her 
into the dampened sheets.  She feels wonderful beneath 
him, her slight body a cushion and a comfort, a true 
coming home for him.  He doesn't worry about being too 
heavy for her, for he remembers slender arms and strong 
legs winding around him and trapping him, all those 
months ago when their lovemaking had drained the 
strength from their bodies.   With an effort, she turns 
her head on the pillow and feathers her lips over his.  
He answers her tender kiss with one of his own and 
feels as well as hears the words that spill from her.

"Oh God, Mulder," she gasps in joyful exhaustion.  "I 
love you.  So much... so much..."  Her voice trails off 
as tears clog her throat and she wraps aching arms and 
legs around him, vowing never to let him go again.  The 
smile wreathing her face grows even wider when his full 
weight relaxes upon her and he drops his head onto the 
pillow next to her, face turned her way, noses 
touching.  They stare into each other's eyes, almost 
having to cross them to maintain focus, so close on 
their respective pillows.  Somehow they manage to 
wriggle underneath the warm bedcovers without letting 
loose of each other; Mulder draws the blankets up 
around their shoulders and turns them sideways until 
they lay curled together, her head tucked under his 
chin.  Their breathing slows and thickens as sleep 
overcomes them; Mulder mumbles out one sleepy request 
as they tumble deeper into velvet darkness.

"Marry me... soon."   He feels a smile curve her lips 
against his neck, and an equally-sleepy reply.

"Okay... when?"

"Yesterday..."

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


"Dream, dream, dream...
Of the joyous days to come..."


Outside it has begun to snow, with a wind whipping up 
and blowing fat icy flakes against the window.  In his 
little makeshift bed William Mulder sleeps with three 
quarters of a fist crammed into his mouth and his 
little bottom sticking up in the air.  Mulder has 
covered him up for the second time, the first being an 
hour ago when he awoke for a diaper changing and a fast 
suckle.  

Mulder had brought him into bed and had propped Scully 
on his chest as she nursed their son, almost asleep 
sitting up.  Mulder held her upright and found himself 
dozing off while William fed and Scully yawned and 
relaxed against his bare chest.  Once William was 
replete with milk - and a quick burping and dry bottom 
- Mulder had taken him back to bed and rubbed his 
little back until he'd fallen asleep again.  He'd 
stumbled back to bed and curled himself around Scully, 
letting out a contented sigh as he sank back into 
unconsciousness.

Now in the banked glow of the fireplace William awakens 
and stares up at his father with big sleepy eyes. 
Sucking like mad on his fist - kicking his little 
fleecy feet - such a good baby.  Mulder picks up his 
son and cuddles him close, loving the baby scent of 
him, the sweet weight of his sturdy little body as he 
rests against his father's shoulder and continues to 
eat his hand.  

Carrying him over to the window Mulder looks out into 
the dark nothingness, eyes following the path of one 
snowflake after another as they dance in front of the 
cold glass.  Randomly falling with no specific 
purpose... rather the way he's been living, these last 
months without Scully and William.  Random... no 
purpose.  He thinks to himself that even snow has to 
have some sort of purpose... something to work towards, 
besides staying in its natural condition, which would 
be frozen.  At least they have purpose when they hit 
the ground; they serve to insulate and cushion.  They 
have a job and they do it well.

He can't help but think that it's time he embraced his 
purpose.  He's been running for his life for months, 
instead of finding a way to turn and face it, taking 
back a measure of control.  Maybe it kept him safe; 
maybe it protected Scully and their child.  Maybe he 
could protect them in a remote place, under the cover 
of assumed names and contrived identification.  He'll 
never know until he tries, and Scully has promised to 
stay with him.  He in turn has promised his life to 
her.  

He knows it will be difficult.  No, just about 
impossible.  They'll have to find a place to raise 
William that is secure from the threat that hangs over 
their heads even now, in this holiday season.  All 
sorts of sacrifices will have to be made, starting with 
the loss of family and friends.  What small contact he 
kept going with the guys will have to stop.  No more 
Skinner.  Likewise, any lingering remnants of their DC 
lives.  

They'll be a threesome, and he can only pray that it'll 
be enough for them - enough for Scully.

"Hey.  Whatcha doing, guys?"  A soft voice at his 
shoulder; Scully has awoken and joins him at the 
window. She winds her arms around his waist and presses 
close, resting her cheek against the smooth skin of his 
back.  She's warm and naked and smells like sleep and 
lingering sex and just delicious Scully.  She feels his 
stomach muscles quiver when she scratches her nails 
lightly over his hair-roughened skin and she ducks her 
head around his arm to smile up at him and the baby.  
William coos happily at the sight of his mother and 
Scully lets her arms drop from Mulder's waist to take 
him, chuckling when his greedy little mouth immediately 
roots for a nipple.  She shifts him carefully and lets 
him find nourishment and security at her breast.  
Mulder wraps his arms around them both and the silence 
between them is broken by their son's little baby-
grunts as he feeds and Mulder's low murmur as he 
answers her question.

"Just hanging out, Scully.  You know, what men do in 
the middle of the night.  Well, don't know for sure 
what William may be doing in those jammies of his but 
I'm hanging out."  They both look down at his nudity, 
deciding that yes, he definitely hangs out - and Scully 
cups her free hand against him and smiles at the sigh 
that escapes his lips at the feel of her warm little 
hand.

"You're thinking hard,  Mulder.  I swear I can smell 
your brain, churning and thinking."  She tilts her head 
so that she can see him more clearly.  "Are you 
afraid?"  At his slow nod, she swallows hard and drops 
her gaze to the child in her arms.  William's tummy was 
quickly filled with his pre-dawn snack and now he is 
nuzzling, more than nursing at her nipple.  She 
smoothes a finger over the back of his hand where it 
rests against the plump fullness of her breast.

"Me too."

The wind gusts outside of the windows and she shivers 
when cool air slips through a crack in the windowpane 
to caress her skin with icy fingers.  Mulder steps away 
to gather a blanket from the bed.  He flings the 
blanket over his shoulders and returns to wind his arms 
around Scully and William, cocooning all three of them 
in fleecy warmth.  

Scully studies their reflection in the window.  Mulder 
- tall and strong - at her back, as always.  William - 
tiny and helpless - in her arms.  She - small and 
determined - sandwiched between them.  She sees a 
family... her family.  And knows that it is past time 
that they begin to live together as one.  

"It won't be easy."  She watches in the window as he 
shakes his head and drops his chin onto her shoulder.

"No."  His arms tighten around her waist as he draws 
her even closer to him, sharing his body heat.  "It 
won't be easy."

"What will we live on?"  She worries for a moment about 
mundane things like paying to keep a roof over their 
heads and buying diapers.  Things that she has always 
taken for granted in the past.

"I have money that I can get to," his reflection 
reassures hers.  "And I can get a job... we can get 
jobs."  He shrugs.  Money is not a top concern to him.  
He'd stashed money away for years in case they ever 
needed it and he could easily access the money... had, 
in fact, been accessing the money for the last four 
months, as needed.  

She nods and lets go of that worry.  If Mulder says 
that money is not an issue, she believes him.  

"Is there any way that we can check up on them... even 
if they don't know it?"  Mulder knows that she is 
thinking of her family and the few friends they have 
back in DC.  He meets her sad gaze and her heart 
splinters when she reads the truth in his eyes.

"It has to be a clean break," he whispers and she nods.  
Her throat and jaw tighten painfully as she forces back 
the tears that threaten again.  It takes a few moments 
for her to regain enough control to speak normally.

"Do you think we'll ever go home?"  She feels his chest 
rise and fall against her back as a heavy sigh escapes 
him.

"I don't know, Scully," he murmurs quietly, truthfully.  
"I hope so."  

Inside the cozy cabin, the little family is warm and 
safe.  They are together and she knows that when they 
are together, anything is possible.  Scully looks 
beyond their reflection and into the darkness outside 
of the windows. The snow continues to fall and the 
world outside of their cabin is hushed and still.  
The clouds part and for a moment the stars overhead are 
visible, their light brilliant in the icy tranquility 
of the winter wonderland surrounding them.  She closes 
her eyes and makes a wish on the first star that she 
sees.  When she opens her eyes, the clouds have again 
obscured the stars, but she sends up her wish on a 
heartfelt prayer.

After all... tonight is a night for miracles.

She lifts William onto her shoulder and the baby 
immediately knots his fingers in his mother's long 
hair.

"I believe, Mulder," she tells him as she settles their 
child more comfortably against her shoulder as he 
drifts back into slumber.  "I believe that someday 
we'll go home."  She tears her gaze away from the 
window and lifts her face to his.  In his eyes, she 
sees a promise that they will try to get back to all 
that is dear and familiar.  And in his eyes she sees a 
promise of a lifetime of love and protection. On 
tiptoes she brushes her lips over his, sealing the 
promise with a kiss.

Inside the cabin, the man, tall and lean with dark 
hair, curls one arm around the woman, protecting her 
and the tiny, pajama-clad bundle cradled in her arms.  
The woman, her distinct cinnamon-colored hair tangled 
in the fingers of their child, is careful not to jostle 
the sleeping baby as the three hurry across the short 
distance toward the bed where the mother and father 
curl their bodies protectively around their child.

Outside, the snow falls gently.  The promise of dawn 
and a new day is still a few hours away. Every living 
creature is tucked away in a warm bed or den.  And the 
night is still, still, still.

The End

Still, still, still, 
One can hear the falling snow. 
For all is hushed, 
The world is sleeping, 
Holy Star its vigil keeping. 
Still, still, still, 
One can hear the falling snow. 

Sleep, sleep, sleep, 
'Tis the eve of our Savior's birth. 
The night is peaceful all around you, 
Close your eyes, 
Let sleep surround you. 
Sleep, sleep, sleep, 
'Tis the eve of our Savior's birth. 

Dream, dream, dream, 
Of the joyous days to come. 
While guardian angels without number, 
Watch you as you sweetly slumber. 
Dream, dream, dream, 
Of the joyous days to come.


AUTHOR NOTES:

Char:  What's better than writing a Christmas holiday 
fic?  Writing one with your most favorite partner in 
the world!  When Tess told me she wanted to write a 
holiday reunion fic, I jumped up and down for joy, 
anticipating wonderful reuniting, "De Love" style, not 
to mention some sadness and angst and romance to die 
for.  Well, not only did I get all of that, but I also 
got a chance to once again write Mulder to her 
exquisite Scully.  As always Tess is a joy to write 
with and a true, true friend.  Thanks, Partner Mine!

Tess:  After trying my hand at a Thanksgiving fic - I 
was swept up in the holiday spirit and decided to write 
a Christmas-themed reunion fic.  I was thrilled when 
Char agreed to write it with me.  Fanfic is a favorite 
hobby of mine, but I never enjoy the writing experience 
more than when I'm collaborating with Char.  It really 
is a complete pleasure and never fails to bring a smile 
to my face.

Special thanks, as always, go out to Aly for 
maintaining a website for my stories and, of course,
our thanks to the gang at IWTB.  

To all of our readers, it is just about a year now 
since Char and I started writing stories together and 
each has been so well received by so many of you.  Our 
thanks and best wishes during this holiday season and a 
happy and healthy New Year to each of you and your 
loved ones.  God Bless!

We always love to hear back from you with any thoughts 
and comments you may have on our stories at:

char@chaffin.com and
tnv099@aol.com 

If you like what you read, please visit our web sites!

http://char.chaffin.com
www.tessfiles.envy.nu