TITLE: "New Millennium: Homecoming"
BY: Vickie Moseley and Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESSES: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com &
kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY: V; Angst; MSR (Married); AU
RATING: Heavy R for some nudity and consensual adult
situations not gone into in great detail
SUMMARY: After being returned by the UFO, Mulder sets out
on the path to recovery - and out of the hospital - with
his wife by his side.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: "Requiem" and its resolution -
our version of events anyway. This is part of our "New
Millennium" series, which goes into alternate universe
after 'Millennium'. We have definitely gone even more
alternate universe in these "Requiem" installments than
what was on screen. The stories are on Ten's website (see
below).

This story follows the events of "New Millennium: The
Calm Before the Storm" by Ten, "New Millennium: Lost and
Found" by Vickie, "New Millennium: Sorrows and Joys" by
Ten and "New Millennium: Finding Mulder" by Vickie. Those
installments deal with the 'Requiem' events.

ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be
archived anywhere as long as our names, addys and
disclaimer stay intact.
FEEDBACK: Love it.
THANKS TO: Debbie, Gerry, Mac, Sally, Judie and Suzanne.
And to everyone who is along for the ride!

The stories in this series are available at Ten's
website, thanks to the wonderful Arria:
http://bitter-moon.com/tenxffic/index2.html

DISCLAIMER: The X-Files, the episodes referred to, Mulder
and Scully and all other characters from the show belong
to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox
Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be
gained. Characters not recognized from the show are ours.


"New Millennium: Homecoming"
Written December 2002 - February 2003

xXx

SCULLY'S POV:

Northeast Georgetown Medical Center:

The vaccine has worked. My husband is no longer on the
brink of death. The only one of the forty-three returned
abductees to survive.

Now I am sitting here waiting for him to wake up.

Actually, to be strictly accurate, *we* are waiting. I
and our unborn child. I can't wait to see Mulder's face
when I tell him. Well, I've already told him the news and
many other things ever since he was returned to me in a
coma. I was hoping that at least some of it would reach
him and give him the will to hold on. And there is no
harm now in repeating it.

"We're going to be a family. We're here, Mulder, waiting
for you. We both love you so much."

Not even a minute later he stirs. My heart races. I
squeeze his hand more tightly and lean forward as his
eyes open.

"Mulder?" My voice wavers.

His eyes focus on my face. He smiles. "Scully..." The
word is more formed by his lips than spoken, but it is
plenty.

So many emotions and thoughts rush through me. My mouth
is forming a huge smile but my eyes are about to become
twin waterfalls at any second...

Mulder tries to speak again, but since he has been
unconscious for a while, his mouth is dry. I raise the
head of the bed so that my husband is up at least 45
degrees. A nurses' aide brought fresh ice chips in a few
minutes ago, and I carefully give him some. Then I manage
to ask: "Do you have any idea of where you've been? What
you've been through?"

He considers for a moment, then frowns and gives a tiny
shake of his head. "Only what I see in your face..."

"It's okay." I kiss him.

He smiles again, his face lighting up even more. He
whispers "Babe..." before falling back to sleep.

xXx

Half an hour later he opens his eyes again and is alert
enough to stay awake through and past the doctor's
examination. In the orientation questions he isn't sure
how much time has gone by until told. He can't remember
anything after going into the woods with our boss. But
apart from that, cognitively he's doing very well, so
far. Only time will tell.

As soon as we are alone again, Mulder and I don't talk -
we just hold hands and gaze, drinking in the sight of
each other.

I am going to climb up onto the bed with him, but before
I do that it is time to give him some good news. I open
my mouth, but he gets in first.

"Scully, are you okay? You and the baby?" His eyes go
down to my lower torso.

I gape at him.

Mulder's eyes and voice become more worried. "Scully, has
something happened? You *are* pregnant, aren't you?"

"Yes. But how did you *know*?"

"I just did..."

Well, I DID tell him about it while he was in the coma,
and again when he was sleeping. I know better than anyone
that people can still hear things while comatose. Or
perhaps once he was out of danger he came far enough out
of sleep to pick up the news or enough hints. I was
talking with Mom and Walter often enough. Perhaps that's
what he meant earlier, starting to say 'Baby' instead of
'Babe'...

It doesn't really matter how he found out. The important
thing is that it's real. The truth - our truth.

Mulder knows, but when I reply: "Yes, I am," his smile
increases a thousandfold. He tries to sit up, reaching
out to hold me, and I quickly move to hold and support
him. He's still very frail, but running on a surge of
adrenalin and testosterone at the moment.

"We did it," he exults. "We did it! First time in the
window seat, right?"

I nod. "Remember how strange we'd been feeling in the
lead up to that moment? I think it was our bodies trying
to tell us that the time was right."

The bottom half-rail on the bed is down, and I make quick
work lowering the top one for long enough to get up onto
the bed, then we are in each other's arms again.

"And you are okay? Both of you?" Mulder says into my
hair.

"Yes. Now that you're back, yes." I snuggle against him.

He sighs. His voice is quiet. "Six weeks..."

"Better than six months. Better than not coming back at
all."

His grip becomes tighter. "If I'd known you were
pregnant, I never would have..."

My hold becomes tighter too. "I know. And you thought
that I was the one in danger. You were trying to protect
me and find out what had shaken me up - literally - in
the woods. The Gunmen and I realized too late that the
UFO was taking people who had experienced abnormal brain
activity in their past."

Mulder hasn't asked yet how he was returned or found, but
that will come soon. As will reaction to what he went
through, even if he can't remember the details. Right now
we just hold each other fiercely, remembering and
enjoying the feel of each other's bodies, heartbeats and
breathing. Quietly celebrating being reunited and that we
are parents-to-be.

Tears roll silently down my cheeks as I thank God that
Mulder is back in my loving arms - while I'm still thin
enough to get them around him! Though he's so thin... We
can both 'fatten up' together.

We drift off to sleep.

xXx

Mom left not long ago. While she was here, I made the
most of the opportunity of having her stay with my
husband while I did a few things. I didn't leave the
hospital grounds though. I've been sleeping in the
reclining chair in his room and Mom has been bringing
whatever I've needed. I'm not leaving this hospital
without my husband at my side.

Having a bathroom attached to this room has been very
handy in my condition. Even going just down the hallway
is too far away from Mulder at the moment, especially if
there isn't someone that I trust available to stay with
him.

But in a way it is still too far. The next time Mulder
wakes up, I'm just coming out of the bathroom. For a
moment he can't see me or anyone, and panic is in his
eyes. I say his name and hurry over. Relief floods his
face, then a self-conscious look of embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Mulder..." I could curse this morning
sickness, but I won't. It's the price I'm happily paying
for our miracle - I just wish the sickness had better
timing...

My husband is getting his breathing back under control,
managing to keep a grin affixed. "I'm okay." Then he
asks, "When can I go home?"

"That's still somewhat up in the air... The doctor thinks
that you'll still be too weak on discharge to go directly
home. He's talking about the rehab facility here -"

"No!" Mulder replies emphatically at the news.

"We'll have to see what is best when the time comes," I
say soothingly, running my hand through his hair. "I want
you home just as much as you want to be there. But not
today. You're still not up to scratch."

At that his forehead kinks in thought. "Mulder?" I ask
worriedly.

"Scratch... That word. That name? It's familiar in some
way. From my missing time..."

I can see he is straining to connect the dots and it
scares me what sort of picture may form as a result.

But then he slumps slightly and shakes his head. "Can't
figure it out. But I can remember - how lonely I was. How
much I wanted to go home. And something about... a cat's
tongue..." At that he flashes me a grin that fully
appreciates how bizarre he just sounded. "I have NO idea
about that one! But whatever happened, I'm back. You're
here, we'll go home soon, and I'm going to be a dad.
That's what matters."

We kiss and I get back on the bed again so we can cuddle.

Then the questions come, as I knew they would, about what
happened. He doesn't want me to hold back on the details.
But I go slowly, studying his face carefully.

Walter seeing the UFO take off. Six weeks of chasing
leads that go nowhere.

Then the return of forty-three people, including the
Oregon abductees, at Antietam National Cemetery in
Sharpsburg.

"That was Bloody Lane, wasn't it? Someone or something
has a rather twisted sense of occasion..." my husband
says grimly.

More so than Mulder realizes just yet. I tell him that
there was evidence of tests on the abductees. Starvation.
Their deaths, including that of Ritchie's friend and
Teresa Hoese.

"A lot of the people were already dead. I...you appeared
to be dead at first too," I admit. My voice breaks.

Mulder stares at me. The gruesome details have so far not
sent him into hyperventilation or distress. Perhaps as
with my own experience of the news of my abduction, he
can't remember any of that in-between time. So it doesn't
seem as 'real'. There has been sadness in his eyes while
I filled in the blanks and now concern for me is at the
forefront. "I'm sorry, babe. It's okay now -"

"But then you spoke to me," I blurt out. "I heard you in
my mind. Or in my heart. Whichever. You somehow found a
way to reach me, a promise that you were working your way
back to me. And then I found faint life signs. Very
faint. But you were still with me."

We hold in silence then for a long time.

After a while, Mulder is stroking my hands and feels that
I am wearing my rings. At this he holds up his bare ring
hand and then his hand goes to his neck, trying to find
the chain I put around there before his ill-fated trip to
Oregon. He comes up empty-handed. The now-missing chain
contained two items.

"Your cross... My wedding ring?" he asks.

I shake my head. "I don't know where they are. You
were...naked when you were found."

"Lost them..." His voice is upset.

"Mulder, they were just possessions. We can get new ones
if need be. I've got all I want right here. My most
important 'things'. One of my treasures might not be
showing yet, but it is there." I look at my lower torso.

Mulder's slide into sadness is halted - for now. He sits
up a little. "You *are* showing a bit. Just above your
belly button - looks like you had a very full meal. Only
something that you or I could tell, when you're naked, of
course."

"Mulder, how on earth could you know that?"

He looks at me earnestly. "I don't know how... I just
*know*. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes... I'm not showing in the true sense, but my clothes
are fitting a little tight. I'm two and a half months
pregnant." I tell him about standing in front of the
mirror at our home. I was looking for any signs of
change. How for a moment it felt like he was there with
me, holding me.

"Perhaps I was."

I swallow back my tears. "I wouldn't let myself think
that it could be...your ghost... That you were dead. I
thought I was having dreams of longing, I guess."

xXx

The physical therapy sessions wear Mulder out, but he is
making progress. I have been going out into the
hospital's garden regularly for air and to stretch my
legs in the times that Mom has been 'on point' at his
bedside.

She brought me a supply of my latest craving, something
that I've occasionally eaten before but now want all the
time: cupcakes from a store near our house. Lovely thick
icing. It is made with shortening and powdered sugar and
it HAS to be from that store. It's the only way I can
stomach drinking milk...

Mulder smiles when I tell him. The icing on each cupcake
is about two inches tall and swirled in a mound like soft-
serve ice cream. "Before I was pregnant, I would scrape
off about half of the icing and eat the cake. Now it's
the other way around!"

"Sounds much better than what I'm on..." Mulder says.
He's on a high-calorie, high-protein diet in small meals
until his stomach 'unshrinks', and also having to
tolerate supplemental liquid nutrition.

Walter arrives while Mom is still here. Mulder wants to
see Walter by himself for a few minutes, so we leave them
alone. I know what it is about. Mulder understands that
sort of guilt all too well.

xXx

Mulder is asleep. We are alone again, but not for long.
There is a soft knock on the door. I look up and Special
Agent Andrea Michels enters, holding a number of items.
"Bad time?" she asks quietly.

I shake my head and wave her in. She is holding a bunch
of flowers in a vase, which she sets down in an
appropriate bare spot.

"Thank you, Agent Michels."

"And these are for you. Or rather for your morning
sickness." She hands me a box of crackers.

I'm touched. We've been so formal with each other over
the weeks since she was assigned to the X-Files office.
Both of us hoping that our partnership would be
temporary. Michels is very career driven. Work is her
whole life. But she has done as I asked and kept my
pregnancy a secret.

I think we've just made a step forward in our
relationship.

Michels looks at the legendary Fox Mulder, who is still
asleep. My true partner, husband, lover and father-to-be
of our child looks for all the world much younger than
his years, than the sum of all he has been through.

"Once he's well enough, I guess I'm out of a job," she
says lightly.

I try to read how much eagerness and relief are in her
tone, but can't. In our short partnership we haven't
really investigated any X-Files apart from going over
Mulder's file and doing administrative things that have
needed doing for ages. Walter currently has Michels
assigned to the taskforce assembled to investigate the
return of the abductees at Sharpsburg. So through the
both of them I'm getting updates. I'm on family emergency
leave to be with Mulder and so I can look after him once
he's home.

I answer Michels' comment. "Well, with my pregnancy and
what has happened to Mulder, he and I are going to have
to come to some decisions about the future, work, the
possible expanding of the X-Files division... A lot of
things to consider."

She nods, looking thoughtful. I invite her to pull up a
chair, but she shakes her head. "I can't stay. I came to
drop off copies of what information we've been able to
gather so far about the incident at Sharpsburg."

I don't think she believes that aliens were involved, but
the reality of so many naked, dead and dying people being
dumped - by whatever means - en masse like that are
enough to rattle her. And to make her want to get to the
bottom of it.

Michels hands me a file. "Call me when you have time to
go over it, or if you have any questions."

I have a quick flick through on the spot and fire off a
few questions, about whether the team has done this and
that, and if she has sent such-and-such off for analysis.

Every question is answered with a yes. "Results should
start to come in soon."

I smile and nod. I should have known. Just because she is
a non-believer, that doesn't mean she isn't thorough.

Mulder stirs, mumbling, and I run my hand through his
hair, across his forehead. "I'm here." He leans into my
touch and settles again. After a moment, I look back at
Michels.

"And I also wanted to see if you needed anything," she
asks quietly.

"No. Thank you very much. You're doing a great job."

"You're welcome, Agent Scully-Mulder."

As she opens the door to leave, she pauses briefly and
looks back at me, at us. And there is a look in her
eyes... I realize it isn't jealousy, but wistfulness. An
acknowledgement of the bond between Mulder and me.
Realization that there is more to life than just study
and work.

Then she is gone. And my husband's sleepy but incredulous
voice asks, "Dana *Scully-Mulder*?"

I turn and smile at his stunned expression. "Yes. I've
had it changed legally. You don't like it?"

He plays with my fingers. "I love it, but... I kind of
assumed that even after the world found out about us,
that you'd keep your name for work."

"In this way I am keeping it - the best of both worlds.
But I have to look into whether my medical license has to
stay in the name I had when I graduated." Speaking of
names, Walter still calls me Scully or 'Agent Scully'
most of the time - only using 'Dana' at really serious
moments. No sign of 'Mulder-Scully' from him. I don't
think he's even aware that he's doing it. Sheer habit,
and I'm having trouble myself in calling him by his first
name when we're not in an official capacity. He's our
boss, but when Mulder was missing he has definitely
proven to be our friend too.

Mulder gives that wicked grin of his. "Well, in the
interests of equality between the sexes, I will be known
from now on as Fox Mulder-Scully."

I laugh and reply, "I've missed so much about you.
Especially that sense of humor."

And our love life too. When I'm not sick or nauseous, I
feel...well... I read an article with a woman saying that
being pregnant made her feel 'randier' than normal, and
that pretty much covers it with me too.

Often at night while he was missing I had wonderful
dreams that helped to keep me going. They were memories
of our love life, reliving them over again...

But I can wait.

"So, the cat is out of the bag at work?" Mulder
continues, fortunately unaware of my thoughts.

"As in our marriage, yes. The baby isn't common knowledge
yet. Just to our boss, Michels, the Gunmen. My family."
Then I remember something I want Mulder to see. Mom had
brought along a bag of fresh clothes for me and other
necessities, and told me of two items that she decided to
include. "Hey, I found the perfect toy for our baby. Want
to have a look?"

I show him the toy baseball and pint-sized soft fabric
bat I purchased one lunchtime. And even before he says
anything, I know from the delight on his face that even
if he had been surrounded by choices in a toy store, this
is exactly what he would have picked too.

xXx

Mulder hasn't remembered anything more from his missing
time yet. Nothing specific anyway. He has had some rough
patches - crying jags and frustration. The latter mainly
to do with him wanting to be one hundred percent, right
NOW.

But his progress has been remarkable, considering the
condition he was found in. The doctors are amazed, even
though they've had dealings with him before.

Perhaps it's the vaccine, perhaps his own unique brand of
determination and stubbornness, "Or some sort of alien
technology that I was exposed to" Mulder suggests to me
when we're alone. Or the 'threat' of rehab...

He's gaining strength and making progress. The therapy
still leaves him tired, but he's been able to handle the
training staircase in the therapy gym. Things are looking
good for him to be able to avoid facility care - a
physical therapist can come to the house instead, or
Mulder can be an out-patient.

There are nightmares, but nothing he can remember when he
is awake and nothing that I can make any sense out of
while I'm trying to wake him up. He has been fairly
cheerful the rest of the time, saying that all the good
news is far outweighing the bad, though he is upset about
the deaths of the other abductees. With the life that he
has experienced, Mulder is not short of coping
mechanisms. And he is right - the fact that he is alive
and has the baby to focus on are things that definitely
keep his spirits up. Mine too. I'm going to keep watching
him closely though. I don't want him to be putting on a
brave show, thinking that it would be better than the
risk of upsetting his pregnant wife.

Once Mulder was out of danger fortunately I didn't have
to go through a long argument with his doctors about me
continuing to stay with him around the clock. These
people know both of us well and have for years. They know
how useless it would be to try to convince me to leave,
or to try to eject me. Especially since Mulder was gone
for six weeks and returned in such a condition.

And the Gunmen have arrived back in town - they had gone
out of the state on a quest to get better data to find
and track the UFO with. Ironic that the UFO decided to
'home deliver' while they were away.

The trio visit us - not for as long as either they or
Mulder would like, but they can catch up with him for
longer when he's at home. Frohike hugs Mulder. "It's good
to see you."

"Likewise, though I'd be a lot happier to see you if
you'd get your hand off my ass," Mulder wisecracks right
back at him.

Yes, I am a very happy woman. Even if I'm living at the
hospital at the moment - Mulder cannot convince me to go
home for even a little while - and even if I have to
spend an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom...

As for the vaccine that Mulder used to save me in
Antarctica, I used almost all of the rest of the sample
we had to save him this time. I have kept the syringe in
a container with an airtight seal. The syringe still has
traces of the vaccine, so I give it to the Gunmen to
analyze.

The next time Mom appears, we finally have a firm okay
for Mulder to go home the next day.

And suddenly something hits me that I should have thought
of before. I hastily pull Mom out into the hallway.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"The house! Oh God, it's a mess!" I wail. I wasn't
exactly Martha Stewart material in those weeks after
Mulder was missing. But I don't want to leave him here
while I race back and clean it up...

Mom is giving me a bemused smile. "Dana, while I've been
at your house looking after the mail and getting clothes
and things to bring to you here, I've also straightened
and cleaned. Changed the sheets. Done some laundry. Now I
can go there today and stock the fridge in preparation of
the homecoming of BOTH of you."

I nearly break her ribs with my hug.

xXx

At last I can take Mulder home. Well, not just me. Mom
and Walter are in the car too.

Walter is here for a number of reasons, most of them
unspoken ones: concern, friendship, guilt... Even though
Mulder and I have tried to reassure him about the latter.

Walter is driving, Mulder is in the back with me. He
should be in the front passenger seat to accommodate
those long legs, but then he wouldn't be seated next to
me. We still need and crave closeness, so my compact
mother is in the front passenger seat instead and has
moved her seat as far forward as she can to give my
husband as much space as possible behind her.

We pull up in the driveway of the house that my husband
and I barely got to live in before he was taken from me.
There are still a number of unpacked boxes in some of the
rooms...

Mulder looks out at the house and gives a contented sigh.
Home.

Once inside our house, Mulder gets out of his jacket with
a little help. His energy levels are down, despite all
best efforts at making the discharge and trip as easy as
possible. Ideally, I want to get him up to the master
bedroom. It has all we need right at hand: en suite
bathroom, TV setup, big bed, each other. But if the
stairs are going to be too much for the moment, the sofa
bed is the back up.

"I'm okay," Mulder says.

I study him carefully and he gives me a look back: half
determined, half a plea. I nod. We have Walter on hand to
help if need be. Nothing like having some muscle for back-
up.

We make it upstairs without incident. At the landing
Walter is on one side of my husband, and I've nearly
glued myself to Mulder's other side. Mom has gone ahead,
into the master bedroom, to turn the bed down.

We get to the bed. Mulder lies down and I remove his
shoes and socks. I made sure that he was wearing
comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt today, so they can
perform double duty as sleepwear. I am wearing similar
clothes.

I want nothing more than to climb into bed with him right
now, but Mom and Walter are still in the room, so I have
to wait a few minutes, then at last I can get into bed,
into my husband's arms.

xXx

MULDER'S POV:

It's good to be home.

It was only home for a few days, but it feels like I lived here
all my life.  Little things jump out at me.  The crack in the
sidewalk where I caught my foot the first time we looked at the
place.  The way the porch light cover needs to be replaced because
of the crack in the glass cover.  Our living room, complete with a
very fertile window seat.  The feel of the newel post to the
stairs that has been worn smooth at the top.

But right now, all I can hope for is to lie down in that monster
of a bed I talked Scully into buying.  The room was so big without
furniture, I was the one who lobbied long and hard for a king
sized bed.  Maybe it was all those nights we spent in her queen
sized bed or when we've been on the road in double beds across the
country.  I just wanted a little space, I was tired of my feet
hanging off the end.  Now, my body just needs to be horizontal and
there is only one thought in my mind:  get me in that bed.

Walter is on my right, Scully my left and I lower myself carefully
until my head is resting on wonderfully soft pillows.  The sheets
are so smooth, I would mistake them for satin, but they aren't
cold and I don't slide around.  And the blankets and comforter
that fall over me bring me warmth, but not exactly all the warmth
I want.  I want a little Scully warmth in here, too.

She's standing at the side of the bed, looking a little fragile.
I know the time I've been gone has been awfully hard on her.  I
thought I had it bad, but in truth, I can't really remember that
much of what happened while I've been gone.  I'll take that as a
blessing for now.  I know the time will come when I have to face
those demons, just as Scully has to face them from her own dark
time.

Our roles are finally reversed.  Except this time, instead of me
handing her a stupid football video and her cross and then beating
a hasty exit, she has the luxury I was denied.  She has showered
me with kisses, she's held my hand, regardless who was in the room
with us.  She's got our wedding ring firmly on her left ring
finger.  I don't begrudge her all this, I'm a willing recipient of
all her affections.  I just wish the time before, I'd had the same
outlets for my emotions.

At least I got one thing accomplished before my parole from that
medical prison.  I managed to get Walter to sit down and talk to
me, in private, for a few minutes.  I could feel the guilt
radiating off him in waves and it was totally uncalled for.  I
knew what the risks were when I went into the forest.  If anyone
is to blame for my experience, it is myself and not my boss.  I
told him that in so many words.  I just hope that in the days to
come I can make him believe it.

But right now, I want to sleep.  And the only way I think I can
accomplish that feat, in this very large and lonely king sized
bed, is to somehow convince my wife to tell our boss and her
mother to take a long walk.  Then she can climb into bed with me.
And I can hold her close without fear of being invaded by an army
of needle-wielding nurses, like I wanted to do in the hospital.

We're home now.

She leans over me to fluff my pillow and kiss my eyes in an effort
to get me to close them.  It's so hard to force them open again,
but I know if she leaves to go downstairs, I won't sleep.  I'll
lie here and be miserable without her.  So before she has a chance
to slip away, I reach for her hand and hold it fast.

"Stay with me," I plead quietly, not because it's a deep dark
secret that I want her here with me, but because I'm just too
tired to raise my voice any louder.

She glances back at Walter and Mom.  They are standing in the
doorway, looking at us like we're two sleepy kids after a hard day
of play.  Well, that would be nice, but I don't think I'm up for
any games of hopscotch right now.

Something registers with Walter.  Suddenly, he's blushing and
coughing a little.  "Well, I think I should be heading into the
office for a while.  Mrs. Scully, could you see me to the door?"

The sly dog!  Mom looks at him like he's an imbecile, the door is
right at the bottom of the stairs, but then she suddenly catches
on, too.  "Oh, where are my manners!  Of course, Mr. Skinner.
I'll see you out.  And then I'll probably go into the kitchen and
make some chicken wild rice soup for supper.  If you think you can
handle that, Fox."

Soup is about all I can handle so I give her as good a nod as my
tired body can afford.  She smiles brightly and the two of them
head down the steps.

"Wonder what got into them?" Scully ponders.  She's slipping out
of her shoes and jacket.

"Aw, you know kids these days," I say with a sigh as she crawls
into the bed and curls into my arms.

"Mulder, you need to rest," she reminds me and kisses my eyelids
again.  If she keeps doing that, she's going to get her wish.  But
I have wishes, too.  And right now my fondest wish is just to hold
her in my arms and feel her breath on my shoulder and hear our
hearts beating in sync.

I get my wish just before she gets hers.

It's a little darker outside now.  I just woke up and found a
glass of orange juice and a tiny bell on the nightstand next to
the bed.  Mom, no doubt.  I listen closely, but can't hear her
below us.  She must be watching tv in the den downstairs.  I sigh
and feel the weight of Scully against me.  She's so warm and soft
and inviting.

I close my eyes.  One thing I do remember from my abduction is
keeping the pain away with my memories of Scully and me together.
Really together.  I know I'm not up for a roll in the hay, or even
the king sized bed at the moment, but I still have those memories.

I can feel her touching me just as I touch her.  I move my hands
over her skin, soft and damp from a shower we just shared.  Her
hair is wet and drips on my shoulder, leaving little tingles of
contact on my skin.  I capture her mouth in mine and sigh how much
I love her.

"I love you, Mulder.  So very, very much."  I smile as she tells
me this even though I know it's just a dream, a memory.

"Lie back.  I want to make love to you," I tell her softly,
kissing my way down her body.  I can taste the soap we used,
something with green clover and aloe that she says keeps her skin
soft even in winter.  I love the smell of it, the taste of it.  I
love the taste of her.  Again and again I dip my tongue out and
caress her skin, tasting her, loving her.

"Mulder, I'm cold," she whines playfully and I burrow under the
covers so that I'm in a cave, a cave full of Scully.  I continue
my path down her body and feel as my kisses cause her to shiver
again, but this time, not from the cold.

"Mulder," she breathes and I lift one of her legs over my shoulder
and then the other one.  There, my objective.  I lower my head and
listen to her breath hitch, feel the excitement ripping through
her body and fueling the excitement in my own.

It doesn't take long to take her over the edge and I know I'm
there with her.  I rise up and cover her with my torso, settling
myself between her legs, using them to cradle me.  I move forward
and she opens to me, accepts me as she always has . . . first my
mind and then my body.  It feels so right, it feels like I'm
finally home.

We rock together and I feel that fire building deep inside me.
Deep inside her.  I feel her body gripping mine, and then we're
soaring, flying off a cliff so high that neither of us can see the
ground . . .

I open my eyes and immediately feel a wet stickiness I haven't
experienced since sleep away camp when I was fourteen.  Damn.  How
embarrassing!  My first night home and already I have a wet dream.

Scully stirs beside me and leans up, capturing my mouth in an open
kiss that takes what little breath I have completely away.  "Oh,
God, Mulder, that was so . . ."

Then, her eyes fly open and she struggles to sit up, staring at me
with her hair every which way and that flush on her cheeks that I
recognize from what she calls a 9.0 on the orgasm scale.  "Oh,
dear," she says, suddenly sounding very Victorian for a tough as
nails FBI G-woman.

"Um, Scully, I have a bit of a mess here," I tell her, trying not
to sound quite so sheepish.  I would normally jump up and clean
myself off but I'm doing good to keep my eyes open at the moment.

She looks down at me, and then cautiously lifts the covers.  Her
scowl is intense.  "Mulder, you know you don't have the strength 
. . ."  She trails off when she sees evidence to the contrary.  What
was she going to accuse me of, anyway?  Jerking off?  She was
right beside me the whole time!

"Scully, did you just . . ."

She cuts me off with a wave of her hand and jumps off the bed to
disappear into the bathroom.  "We need to get you cleaned up
before Mom comes up here with your soup."

Shit, Mom!  I really don't want her walking in the door right now.
And I really want to talk about this with Scully.  I'm here in
this bed.  I haven't really changed positions since Walter
deposited me here some two, no two and a half hours ago, according
to our big digital alarm clock.  So what the hell just happened?
I know my body couldn't possibly have done what I felt we just
did, but the evidence is pretty irrefutable, and it's gluing my
sweatpants firmly to my skin in a most unpleasant manner.

"Scully, did we just . . . ?"

"I had a dream, Mulder," she tells me, running her hand along the
side of my face.  "A really wonderful dream."  Her dewy-eyed
expression makes my heart skip a beat.  But my curiosity wins out
over my pure arrogant pride.

"Scully," I try to put into words what I felt happened.  "I felt 
. . . something . . ."

She's wiping the stickiness off my stomach and clicking her
tongue.  "Yes, I bet you did.  That must have been _some_ dream,
Mulder.  Wish you would have saved that for me," she adds, giving
me a light slap on my belly before standing and going to the
dresser.  "We need to change your sweats.  I'll put the soiled
ones in the bottom of the hamper, so Mom won't accidentally
stumble on them."  As an afterthought, she flips the lock on the
door, further preventing a major embarrassment for my mother-in-
law and me.

"Scully, I don't think it was just a dream," I tell her, but she's
not listening.  She pulling off my pants under the covers and I
almost wish I was back asleep again, where I could enjoy this
more.  More cleaning, more wiping and then she's tugging a pair of
my pajama bottoms on over my hips.

"Scully, you felt it, too," I finally get her to look me in the
eye while I'm talking.

"Mulder, like I said, I had a dream.  A wonderful, erotic dream.
I've missed you, God, you have no idea how much I've missed you.
It's perfectly understandable that I would have an erotic dream,
now that you are here and real and I can hear your heart beating
right at my ear."

"And me?"

She smiles at me and tousles my hair.  "You had a long term
relationship with X rated videos.  Erotic dreams are child's play
to you."

I'm not about to let this go, I think it's too important.
"Scully, I . . . god, are you going to make me say it?  I went
down on you!  Did I do that in your dream?"

She shrugs nonchalantly.  "Mulder, it's not like that's an
uncommon occurrence when we make love."

"You make it sound so pedestrian," I fire back, and damn it, I
don't care if I sound like I'm pouting!

"You're the one who's upset here.  I feel fine.  In fact, I feel
better than I've felt in weeks!" she tells me as she gathers up
the towels and sweatpants and takes them with her into the
bathroom.

"Sated?" I ask, crossing my arms.

She returns with that same dewy-eyed look.  "I'll be sated when
you are back in full working order," she tells me while giving me
a sweet kiss on my forehead.  "But until that time, this dream was
very nice."

I'm about to say more, when there's a knock on the door.  "Fox,
Dana, I have soup ready," Mom calls out and Scully hurries over to
unlock and open the door.  Mom comes in with a tray carrying two
bowls and two glasses of iced tea.  "I think Fox deserves a little
treat.  I made a fresh pitcher of tea for him."

Scully gives me a smug look.  "Yes, he's been very busy today,"
she agrees.  I'd find this more humorous if she would at least
listen to what I think happened.  But it's hard to stay mad when
the love of my life and my favorite mother-in-law are fussing over
me, helping me sit up for my first meal back home.

Something happened in this bed today.  Something I think will have
far reaching implications.  But for now, I feel satisfied, and
with the help of this soup and these two women before me, I'll
feel more than satisfied, I'll feel comforted.

I really couldn't ask for more.


THE END