Title: Starting the New Millennium
Author: Vickie Moseley
Summary:  Post ep for Millennium.  Sap alert ahead.  Non-shippers
turn back quick, there be monsters ahead!
Category:  S A MSR definitely shipperfic! 
Rating:  PG (yes, I know, but you just have to use your imagination
;)
Disclaimer:  Dear Chris:  this is how I would have loved to end that
episode.  But you didn't do this, so I had to.  See, it's not really
infringement as much as it's entrapment.  That's my defense and
I'm sticking to it.
Dedicated to the myriad of people who wanted me to do a post-ep
for Millennium.  There.  That ought to teach you a lesson <VEG>
Love to all of you and HAPPY Y-Two-Kay!

Starting the New Millennium
by Vickie Moseley
vmoseley@fgi.net

He leaned his head down and almost expected her to back up.  But
she didn't.  She even went so far as to lean forward a little, just
enough so that their lips could touch, rest together without either of
them straining.

It felt good.  It felt right.  It was just how he thought it would feel.

After a nice kiss, not a 'rockets red glare' or 'angels weeping' kiss,
but a very nice kiss, she pulled back.

"The world didn't end, did it?" he asked.  He knew it was what
they'd both expected.  That if there weren't any bees, and he wasn't
experiencing an hallucination brought on by drowning or a hundred
and one other little inconveniences that kept getting in their way,
well, then the world surely had to be ending.  They were kissing,
for God's sakes!

But it didn't end.  It kept spinning on it's axis, despite everyone's
best efforts to stop it.

And she knew that, too.  "No, Mulder, the world didn't end."  

The look they shared spoke volumes, but he wondered, not for the
first time, if they were speaking the same language.

Sometimes, it felt like they were reading each other's minds, each
other's hearts.  Then, in the blink of an eye, the same look
conveyed nothing but static.  It drove him to distraction, when he
let himself think about it.  

He wondered if she realized what they'd just done.  How many
walls they'd managed to scale and hurtle, with the simple touching
of lips.  He knew what it meant.  He knew where he wanted it to
go.  He just didn't know for certain if she felt the same way.  But
he was pretty sure she did.  And he knew that unless he made the
first move in that direction, they'd never find that path.

He encircled her shoulders with his good arm.  She didn't
reciprocate, but she didn't pull away.  Quietly, they walked toward
the exit.  It wasn't until they were almost to the doors that she
spoke.

"Mulder, your jacket.  The temperature has really dropped.  Where
is your jacket?"

"Zombie fodder," he mugged at her and she shook her head.  

"Well, then let me go warm up the car and pull it up to the
entrance.  The last thing you need is to be chilled.  You're still . . ."

"Scully, if you use the 'shock' word on me tonight, I can't be held
responsible for my actions.  And I can drive.  I want to drive."

She pulled out from his arm and stared at him.  "One handed.  With
your right hand in a sling."

"Call it a 'guy thing'," he explained with a shrug.  "C'mon, Scully. 
I just have someplace I want to go and I know the way.  Please."

She shook her head emphatically.  "Mulder, the only place you need
to be is in your apartment, fast asleep.  And I'm exhausted, too, for
that matter.  I'm still getting over jet lag from visiting my brother
and I wasn't expecting to spend New Year's Eve in the Emergency
Department.  But then, I guess I should wake up to that little fact
of life," she said with disgust.  

"Scully, you're making me rethink this entire project," Mulder said
quietly.

She bit her lip.  He lowered his eyes and blinked, slowly.  She
chewed her lip again and looked away.  "Oh, all right," she sighed. 
"I suppose it's too much to ask where you're going."

"Yep.  But look at it this way.  You're going with me, so it doesn't
count as a ditch.  I figure that alone means I'm starting the New
Year out on the right foot."

Scully glanced at her watch.  "Yeah, gee, Mulder.  You've got a
point there.  It's already 10 minutes past midnight.  You have
usually ditched me two, some years, three time by now.  This year
is shaping up to be a good one already," she dead panned.

"Scully, don't spoil the moment," he warned.

That had the desired effect.  She smiled at him before dropping her
head and hiding behind her mane of red hair.  He wanted so much
to brush it back from her face and see her eyes sparkle in the halo
of the parking lot lights, but he refrained.  He had to get going or
he was going to lose his nerve.

They got into her car, she handed him the keys after unlocking the
doors.  He adjusted the seat and she glared at him, daring him to
make a comment.  He did his best to ignore her lack of confidence
in him and put the car in drive, pulling out expertly with only one
hand.

"So, you've done this before," she said, not bothering to form the
sentence into a question.

"Broke my right arm three weeks after I got my driver's license.  I
learned how to drive one handed.  Made parking on my first date a
little interesting . . ." he said with a smirk.

"I'm sure you found a way," she replied dryly, but he could see her
eyes twinkle again.  Twice in one night.  His determination was
bolstered beyond imagining.

They drove quietly through the streets of DC, heading out
Wisconsin Avenue.

"Mulder, I live in Georgetown, now," Scully said after they drove
past the Naval Hospital and the National Institutes of Health.

"I think I remember hearing about that, Scully," he said with a nod.

"You live in Arlington."

"They tried to rip my arm off me, Scully.  No body touched my
head," Mulder said with a small tone of pique slipping into his usual
even voice.

"I'm just wondering where you're going.  Everywhere around us is
closed.  Well, except for motel bars.  Mulder, tell me you aren't
taking me to a bar," she moaned.

"I wouldn't think of it, Scully.  I have somewhere else in mind all
together.  In a flash, he had merged onto the Beltway and was
heading north.

"My mom will be asleep," she said pointedly.

His patience was growing thin.  "Well, why don't you join her?" he
said and swallowed the desire to add a few expletives to that
directive.

"You'll wake me if you get tired?" she asked with some concern.

The chill that was encroaching upon him melted away at the sound
of her voice.  He smiled when he turned his head toward her. 
"Promise.  I know where I want us to go tonight, Scully.  Just trust
me?"

Her gaze never wavered from his face as she nodded.  "Always,
Mulder.  I always trust you."  Then she shifted in the seat and in
minutes, he could tell she'd fallen asleep.

There was a quarter moon lighting the road.  He was happy that the
snow they'd suffered under the year before had not materialized to
punish them this year.  He was happy to be driving, in the middle of
the night, with his partner by his side.  He hoped it would always be
like this for them.  Together, always.

The miles slipped by.  He stopped for gas, and Scully roused, but he
stroked her cheek, assured her it was just a pit stop, and she fell
back to sleep.  He got back behind the wheel, and marveled at the
fact that he wasn't tired.  He felt calm, relaxed.  His arm wasn't
even bothering him that bad.  But his destination was still a few
hours down the road and he knew he'd better pace himself.  He
sipped at the coffee he'd purchased at the gas station and pushed
the accelerator up to 65.  No sense taking all night.  He was more
sure than ever that he was on the right course.

On a straightaway, he allowed himself the luxury of looking over at
Scully.  It never ceased to amaze him how tiny she looked when she
was sleeping.  How childlike her expression became in slumber.

He wasn't blind, though.  He could see the worry lines around her
eyes, the tiny wrinkles near her mouth.  When she'd first walked
into his office, all those long years ago, he'd been certain that she
wouldn't last out the fiscal quarter.  Seven years, she'd stood
beside him.  Stood at his side when all others had run screaming.  

He had told her that she was his constant.  He wasn't sure when
he'd begun to think of her like that.  When he'd spoken the words,
they seem to fall of his tongue as naturally as her name.  His
constant.  But it always hadn't been such.

He'd been so afraid of losing her for such a very long time.  In the
early years, he'd been sure she'd leave him.  It had taken him all of
two cases to decide her presence was not the hinderance he'd
assumed she'd be.  Then, he was positive that she would betray
him, turn on him in some way and do exactly what everyone else
close to him had done.  Leave him to fend for himself.  

But then, the powers that be had forced a separation and she was
still there.  Worrying about him in the parking garage of the
Watergate.  Running to Puerto Rico to save his miserable hide. 
Things that a spy would never do.  Things that only a good friend
would even consider.

Just when he became comfortable in that knowledge, that she
wasn't going to walk out on him, the worst happened.  She didn't
walk out, she was ripped from his life.   And to rub salt in the very
real and open wound, the last words he'd heard from her lips was a
cry to him for help.  Only the unquenchable drive to see her again
kept him from ending his sorry existence just three days after she
was taken.

Three days ran into three months and sometimes he would wake up
in a sweat soaked panic, wondering why in the world his lungs kept
drawing in air when his soul had been ripped from his body.  He
never fell asleep on his own accord in those months.  His body
would betray him and fail to function.  He would have to shut down
for a few hours, only to come up from this unintentional repose
with a scream on his lips and tears coursing down his cheeks.

More than once, he considered how to end it.  More than once, the
only thing that stopped the bullet from entering his brain was that
he'd promised Maggie Scully he would find her daughter and bring
her back.

In the end, he'd done neither.  She been dumped on the doorstep of
a hospital, like some unwanted infant of teenaged lovers.  He hadn't
rescued her from their clutches.  He'd been totally impotent to even
affect the outcome of her condition.  He'd been forced to sit by her
side and watch her die.

Her sister was his savior at that moment.  He'd been fully prepared
to seek his revenge, to avenge her death on the only faces he could
connect with her violation, and then to end his own pain before
witnessing her death.  But Melissa had seen his intentions, had
somehow gained insight into her heart.  She knew her sister better
than he did at the time.  Knew that Dana Scully was not a quitter,
even if Fox Mulder, her own family and an entire world conspiracy
had written her off.

She lived.  He would never know if he played a part in her
recovery.  Late at night, he would fantasize that it wasn't until he's
spoken soft words of faith and strength into her ears that she had
decided to live.  On other nights, he was surprised his presence
hadn't been enough to cause her to give up the ghost right then and
there.

But following her recovery, almost on it's heels, he been forced
with a choice he'd never dreamed he would have to make.  He was
forced to choose between the sister he'd sought for more than half
his life, and his partner of only two years.

At the time, he deluded himself with the bravado that he could save
them both.  In hindsight, he realized it was rationalization, nothing
more.  He never gave a thought to handing Samantha over.  He had
only allowed his mind a fleeting moment of his life without Scully
and his decision was made.  

He wasn't proud of the fact that he'd willingly handed his sister
over to her death, even if she later turned out to be an imposter. 
But when all was said and done, he'd do it over again, in a
heartbeat.

And once again, she'd proved that her commitment to him was just
as strong.  With less to go on than she had when he'd taken off to
Puerto Rico, even after he'd told her that he was drawing the line,
didn't expect her to cross it, she had come after him.  She'd been
responsible for the Naval Recon team that found him, she'd been
the one to arrive in the trauma room just in time to drag him back
from the grave.  She'd stayed by his side, night and day according
to all reports, willing him back to health.  And she'd remained with
him upon his return, as he dealt with the loss of his sister, and the
consequences of his quest.

They'd been through so much.  His father's murder and the attempt
to frame him for the crime.  Her sister's murder and the efforts to
cover it up with a whitewashed investigation.  Times had come
when they were so caught up in their own fight for self-preservation
that they forgot the strength they found in each other.  But always,
something would bring them back together again.

He thought back to his other close relationships.  The women he
dated in college were little more than one night stands.  Phoebe had
been a huge mistake from the start and had burned him almost
beyond recognition.  It took him a long time to feel safe around a
woman.

Then came Diana.  Safe was the one thing he always felt around
her.  She blindly believed him, agreed with him on almost
everything.  He thought he'd found his one true love.  Right up to
the day when she'd asked him to make a choice.  He had to choose
between his search for his sister, an all encompassing endeavor at
the time, and his life with her.  At the time, he'd agonized over the
decision.  In the end, Diana made the decision for him by accepting
a transfer and walking out of his life.

That wasn't lost on him, either.  That when Diana had walked out
of his life, he was finally ready to accept someone like the woman
sleeping beside him.  It was only after the fire of betrayal that he
could finally accept the light of reason into his life.  A light only
Dana Scully had brought to him.

It tickled him that just as he thought of Scully as his light, the first
deep blue could be seen on the eastern horizon.  Day would be
breaking soon, the first day of a new millennium, for those so
disposed to count time as he did.  A perfect day for a new
beginning.

As he made the turn off to the small country road, Scully stirred. 
She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the faint winter sunrise. 
"Mulder, have we been driving all night?"

"Technically, Scully, only one of us has been driving, but it was
only half the night.  Remember, we left the hospital at midnight."

She turned a look of absolutely no patience upon him.  "Where are
we?"

"About five miles from our destination," he said with a sly smile.

"And when will I be informed of this 'destination'?" she asked,
arms folded deliberately over her chest.

"When we get there?" he offered with a shrug.

"Mulder, if this is another wild goose chase, if this is some trip to
Neverland to dig up more graves . . ." she growled low in her
throat.

"Scully," he whined pathetically.  "You said you trusted me."

She sighed and closed her eyes for a second.  When she opened
them, they were blue as the summer sky and twice as sparkling.  "I
trust you with my life, Mulder.  But that does not negate my
knowing how your mind works.  Nor does it alleviate me from my
responsibility to make sure you don't get your ass caught in a
wringer.  So, are you dragging us off on a wild goose chase?"

"No," he answered quietly.

"Then where are we going?" she asked, then notice a passing road
sign.  "We're in Connecticut.  Are we going to see your Mom?"

"Nope, but we can stop by later if you want," he replied.  If you're
still speaking to me, he added silently to himself.

"So I suppose you are just going to keep driving.  And we'll eat,
when, tomorrow?" she asked, but her voice was more teasing than
angry.  "How's the arm?  You probably need another pain pill,
don't you?"

"Not really," he answered truthfully.  His concentration was torn
between his life and the road and he really hadn't given much
thought to his wounds.  He'd had enough of them to know that it
was easier to ignore them than to let them get the better of you.

His eyes lit up when he saw the small sign, just off the road.  He
pulled into the long driveway, just two rutted lines through the
fresh powder of snow.  When she was certain he'd lost his mind, he
pulled up to a beautiful three story house, nestled in a copse of pine
trees.

"Mulder?" she questioned, but he just jumped out of the driver's
side and quickly ran around to open her door.  She hesitated for a
second, first looking at him, then at the house.

"Scully, last night you were worried about me standing out in 50
degree weather.  It's a good twenty-five degrees less than that out
here, and I would really appreciate it if you'd accompany me up to
the porch, so we can get inside where it's warm."

She nodded absently and followed him up to the door of the house. 
After a few minutes of shivering, his knocks on the heavy metal
door knocker produced results.  An older man, in a heavy terrycloth
robe, answered the door with a blurry-eyed expression.

"Uncle Jacob?" Mulder said tentatively.

The older man's eyes widened and he took Mulder into a strong
embrace.  "Fox!  My God, what are you doing here?  Come in,
come in.  Get out of that cold!"  Scully found herself being
captured in the old man's grip and all but dragged into a warm and
welcoming parlor.

"Fox, who is your friend.  And good heavens, what have you done
to yourself?" Uncle Jacob demanded as he settled the two down on
a sofa and went to stoke a smoldering fireplace into full blaze.

"This is my . . . this is Dana Scully.  And my arm is nothing, Uncle
Jacob.  Just got it caught on something," Mulder said dismissively.

"Well, it looks a little more serious than that, but I'll let you go this
time.  However, what in blazes are you doing without a coat?  I
know you have more brains than that in your head, young man,"
Jacob scolded, but where the words were harsh to the ears, the tone
spoke of affection.

"I, uh, we have a favor to ask, Uncle Jacob.  But first, do you think
you have any of Aunt Deb's famous coffee brewing in the kitchen?"

Jacob gave the younger man a curious look but nodded.  "It'll just
take me a minute.  Make yourself at home."

After the old man had shuffled out of the room toward the back of
the house, Mulder finally turned to his partner.

"You're wondering what this is all about, right?"

"You weren't the Bureau's Golden Boy profiler for nothing,
Mulder," she said with her tongue firmly in her cheek.

"Scully," he said, and then stopped, as if searching for the right
words.  He stared out the big bay window to the snow outside, as if
seeking inspiration.  Or an exit.  Whichever came available first. 
Just when she thought she'd have to find a rubber hose, he turned
to her again.  "Scully."

"We've established that you know my name, Mulder," she said
softly, with just a touch of derision.  "Is there something you're
trying to say to me?"

He couldn't stand it any longer.  He reached over with his good
hand and clasped onto her tiny palm.  He leaned forward, just
inches from her face.  Giving her more than enough warning, he
slowly moved forward, until finally, they were kissing again.  This
time, it wasn't hesitant.  He didn't think twice before he was
lapping gently at her lower lip, seeking entrance with his tongue. 
She opened to him and warmth flood through his whole being.

They broke, breathless and dazed.  "Is that what we drove all the
way to Connecticut for?" Scully asked as she slowly caught her
breath again.

"No.  It's not.  Well, sort of, but not exactly."  Mulder was having
more trouble getting his breathing restored, but he had nothing to
do with ill health.  

Scully looked at him, concern blossoming in her expression. 
"Mulder?" she asked again.

"Scully, this house, . . . my uncle, . . . Scully, this is a Justice of the
Peace," he said the final words coming out in a rush.

"We need a search warrant?" she asked, totally confused.

Mulder shook his head in exasperation.  Maybe this had been a
mistake.  Maybe what he'd seen in her eyes had been in another
language and he'd translated it wrong.  But the kiss they'd just
shared belied all of his anxiety.

"Scully, there are other reasons to see a Justice besides search and
seizure," Mulder said as if to a child.

Suddenly, it was if a lightbulb went off over Scully's head.  Her
eyes grew wide and she pulled back, as if seeing her partner for the
very first time.  

Mulder licked his lips and drew in a deep breath.  "We can get right
back in the car and drive back home, Scully.  We'll never mention
this night again.  But back at the hospital, and all the way here, I
just kept thinking that as long as we're going to be together, I want
to make it permanent.  I couldn't live a day without you, Scully.  I
tried it once, for a while and I died every single day I didn't see
your face.  I don't know for certain, but I think . . . I hope you feel
the same.  I just wanted to start the New Millennium with
something good, something precious.  I wanted it to be our
beginning, or our rebirth or whatever we want to think of it in years
to come.  But I didn't want to go home without you.  Ever.  Never
again."

By this time, tears were streaming down her face.  "Mulder . . ."
she sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"If this is too much, Scully, just say the word.  Like I said, we can
get in the car and drive back . . ."

She stopped his speech by pressing two fingers to his lips. 
"Mulder.  All I wanted to say was . . . I love you."

He let that sink in a moment.  Then a brilliant smile broke out on his
face.  "Oh, brother," he said, pulling her into a kiss that rivaled, if
not surpassed the last one.  A throat being cleared in the room
alerted them to the return of Uncle Jacob.

"I take it I should be waking Aunt Deborah," Uncle Jacob said with
a raised eyebrow.

"If you don't mind," Scully replied for both of them.  Mulder drew
her toward him in a crushing embrace which she return in kind.

January 1, 2000
8:35 am
New Bedford, CT

"And by the authority of the State of Connecticut, I hear by
pronounce you husband and wife.  Nephew, you may kiss the bride,"
Uncle Jacob said with a twinkling grin.  Aunt Deb, who doubled as
both witness and organist, was busy wiping tears from her face and
trying to play the wedding march one handed.  When the happy
couple came up for air, the older couple bustled off to the kitchen
to make breakfast for them all.

Mulder took Scully's left hand in his rubbing her still ringless finger. 
"First thing tomorrow, we go shopping for a ring."

"And right after that, we stop by and ask Father McCue to bless the
marriage," she said with raised chin.

"Are you sure your Mom won't want us to do this all again, big
church wedding, lots of tension and stress and ugly bridesmaids . . .
dresses?" he said as she narrowed her gaze to pinpoints.

"She'll survive.  Besides, she can still have a reception for us and
we can wear normal clothes but get all the same loot," she said with
a shrug.

"Always the pragmatist," he said with a laugh and pulled her into
his arms.  "I love you, Scully."

She smiled at him from just under his chin.  "I notice marriage
hasn't changed my name," she said with a wry smile.

"You want it to?  I can start calling you Mulder, if you want," he
teased.

"No, I don't want to change that much.  However, I could always
start calling you 'Scully', if you want," she shot right back.

"No, I think we should keep some things like they are.  If it's not
broke . . ."

She grew quiet and they stood looking out the bay window at the
fresh snow falling.  "This isn't how I thought I would be spending
New Year's Day," she admitted.

He held her out from him just a foot or so.  "Regrets?  It's not to
late for a quicky annulment.  No harm, no foul."

"Trying to ditch me again, Mulder?  Only nine hours into the new
year and already you're breaking your resolution."

"Never.  I will never ditch you again."

"Happy New Year, husband," she said, giving him a loving look
that melted any residual fear completely away.

"Happy New Year, wife.  Let's go home."

the end.


Vickie

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Season's Greetings:

Peace and Joy!

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