Title: Still, Still, Still

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

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

"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 bit, 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 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 will not

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.

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

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 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.

My special thanks, as always, go out to Aly for

maintaining a website for my stories and 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