TITLE: "New Millennium: Wedding Marches and First 
Dances"
BY: Vickie Moseley and Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESSES: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com and
kristena@ocean.com.au
CATEGORY: V; MSR (Married); AU
RATING: R to be on the safe side - for consensual 
adult situations and some language
SUMMARY: The lead up to Mulder and Scully's renewal 
of vows, including the introduction of the new X-
Files agent, then The Day, the reception and the 
wedding night <G>.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This is part our "New 
Millennium" series, which goes into alternate 
universe after 'Millennium' (with Mulder and Scully 
getting married). Mulder still gets abducted in 
Oregon, but only for six weeks, and the new agents 
we're introducing to the X-Files are our own 
creations. At the start of this story, Scully is 
about four months pregnant and planning their renewal 
of vows. The stories are on Ten's website (see 
below). As self-contained as we try to make each 
installment, reading the others first would probably 
be a good idea ;)

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.

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.

xXx

Mulder's point of view:

The countdown
Sometime before the wedding

I admit to being a little shell-shocked when I walked 
out of Skinner's office.  It was bad enough waking up 
from a living nightmare to discover I had already 
been replaced by one agent.  Mind you, my loving wife 
had reassured me that Agent Michels was _not_ my 
replacement, merely an extra pair of hands.  And 
Michels had proven herself useful, helping Scully 
during an incredibly stressful period.  But almost 
all of the cases Scully and I would have investigated 
had received 'desk reviews' or had been shelved due 
to the ongoing search for yours truly.  So I come 
home to find out that not only do we have a new 
person in the office, not much has been done in my 
absence.

Now, not 3 hours since setting foot in the Hoover 
again, I'm told we'll be adding another member to our 
'team'.  How we got from 'partners' and the scourge 
of the Bureau to 'Team X Files' I will never know.  
But beyond that, I now have to go to tell my wife 
that we're going to be moving offices, adding a new 
person and all this while she's knee deep in 
preparations for our wedding.

I just got to feeling really good and now I'm gonna 
get my ass kicked by a 5 foot 2 pregnant woman!

So I decided discretion, or in this case, 
procrastination, was the better part of valor.  I 
made a trip up to the labs to say hi to a few people 
who admit to knowing me.  Danny was thrilled to see 
me back at work, it's been a long play-off season for 
baseball without my connections to get him good 
seats.  He was beginning to fear for football and 
basketball as well, but I reassured him that soon the 
universe, as we knew it would be back in order.

I even made a pass through the cafeteria to grab a 
cup of fairly bad coffee.  One would think that in 
the three months I'd been gone and on medical leave, 
someone would have changed the filter in the coffee 
urn.  Or maybe it was just that Scully has been 
spoiling me lately.  Anyway, after glancing at my 
watch and realizing it was getting close to my doctor 
appointed quitting time, I knew I couldn't put it off 
any longer.

I trudged woefully down to the basement, thought 
twice about opening the door, almost ran back up the 
stairs, but finally walked hesitantly into our 
office.

Michels was sitting at her table, near the back room.
Basically, since I was back, I sat at my desk and 
Scully sat at hers.  I guess while I'd been gone 
Scully had been sitting at my desk and given Michels 
hers.  Suddenly I had to get Michels a desk and some 
new bozo one, too?  This was asking too much of some 
guy on his first day back in months!

Scully was on the phone and did not look pleased.  
"No, no, no.  I told you, the place will be crawling 
with roses!  I don't want _more_ roses.  I want 
carnations and lilies. Yes, I said lilies, white 
lilies, cannas, Easter, I don't care, just white 
lilies.  Oh, come now, there must be some South 
American country where lilies are blooming at this 
time of year!  NO, I can't hold . . . fuck!  The 
bastard put me on hold again!"

I bit my lip and slunk into my chair.  Michels looked 
up from the file she was pretending to read and gave 
me a sympathetic half smile.  "Has this been going on 
long?" I asked in a voice that I hoped would go 
undetected by the whirling dervish at the desk just 
inches away.

"About half an hour," Michels whispered back.  "But 
she's only called two florists in that time."

"And no body has lilies, I take it," I deducted from 
the way the one-sided conversation was going.

"I guess you have to order them in the spring.  Or 
move to Argentina," Michels answered, then looked 
embarrassed by her 'intrusion'.  "Not that I'm 
eavesdropping, of course!"

"No, of course not," I said with a shake of my head.  
At that exact moment, Scully slammed down the phone.

"That tears it.  I have to waste a perfectly good 
lunch hour running all over Georgetown to find white 
lilies!"

"Scully, why don't you get some other flower," I 
suggested meekly.  "Maybe something in season.  Like 
those big mums I've seen in flower shop windows."

You would have thought I'd offered to marry her in 
the nude!  No, come to think of it, she probably 
would have jumped at that offer.  Unfortunately, the 
offer I made just had her jump down my throat.

"Football mums!" she howled.  "You honestly want to 
marry me when I'll be carrying football mums in my 
bridal bouquet?"

"Probably . . . not?" I replied quickly, sensing 
impending doom no matter what my response had been.

"Mulder, if you want to help, call the tux rental 
place and make sure they have the sizes that Charlie 
and Bill faxed them yesterday.  And please, leave the 
flowers to me!"  With that pronouncement, she tugged 
her purse out of the bottom desk drawer and stormed 
out of the office.  Three seconds later, she was 
back.  "Will you hurry up?  I have to drop you off at 
home and then find the lilies."

"Scully, I'm feeling pretty good.  Maybe I can try to 
make it . . ."

"Don't even start, Mulder.  Move it, and I mean now!"

I looked over at Michels for some moral support.  The 
poor woman had her nose buried so deep in the file 
folder she was in danger of smearing the ink.  No 
help from that quarter.

Quietly, I gathered my jacket and followed her out 
the door.  The discussion of a new agent was just 
going to have to wait.

I spent the afternoon puttering around the house.  I 
was still really getting used to the place when I 
went missing, so it was time to really figure it out.  
I liked how Scully had set up the kitchen almost 
exactly as we had it at her apartment.  I could find 
almost everything.  The pantry, which I remember as a 
huge empty room, was kind of neat and cozy with cans 
and boxes on the shelves.  I found a case of my 
favorite bottled iced tea and a box of pop tarts.   
Since Scully had set out some left-overs for my 
lunch, I decided the pop tarts would make a fair 
dessert.  Then I went about finding the ingredients 
for my famous Mulder spaghetti, which I planned to 
surprise Scully with when she got home from a hard 
day of hunting the illusive white lily.

I must have dozed off, but fortunately I'd put the 
sauce on simmer.  Scully was standing over the pot 
with a spoon halfway to her lips when I reached 
around her and gave her a hug.  She jerked, but 
didn't drop the spoon. 

"You were supposed to be resting," she scolded me, 
but I knew she didn't mean it.

"I was resting, I just woke up," I reminded her.  
After a few 'hello' kisses, we both put the rest of 
the dinner on the table and sat down to eat.  I got 
up the nerve to ask her about the lilies.

"I found them in a shop right downtown," she said 
with a relieved sigh.  "They're a little expensive 
this time of year . . ."

"Money is no object," I quoted yet again.  I wanted 
this wedding to be something she always remembered, 
but in a good way -- not complete with zombie 
scratches and borrowed rings.

"So, you never said what Skinner wanted this morning.  
Just a 'welcome back' speech?" she asked.

Well, since she'd brought it up . . . "Not exactly.  
That, of course, but he had something else to talk 
about."

"Not a new case?  The doctor hasn't released you for 
field duty yet."

"No, actually, nothing to do with my going out to the 
field or a new case.  There's no other way to say 
this:  they're sending us another one."

She stared at me blankly.  "Another 'what'?"

"Agent, Scully.  We're getting another one."

She still wasn't clued in to what I was talking 
about.

"Scully, Skinner assigned a new agent to the X 
files," I said, picking up my plate and hers and 
taking them to the sink to rinse before putting them 
in the dishwasher.

"Yes, Andrea Michels," she replied with a confused 
expression.

"No, Calvin Wolfe.  Fairly young, definitely male."

She crossed her arms and gave me the look.  I was a 
little resentful.  Where was Skinner, shouldn't he 
have gotten 'the look' instead of me?  I was an 
innocent bystander in this whole parade of agents, 
after all!

"Two more agents?  Where the hell are we going to put 
them, dangle them from the ceiling tiles?  Oh, wait, 
that's where the bugs are, we can't mess up our 
covert surveillance, can we?"

I saved the nice serving bowl I'd put the sauce in by 
grabbing it out of her hands before she had the 
chance to dash it to the floor.

"Scully, we're getting a new office, too.  Well, 
really, they're tearing out the wall between our 
office and the janitor's closet and making us a 
'suite'.  X Files meets 'Trading Places'," I said 
with a grin.  "You and I both have our own offices 
and the two new kids get desks out in the 'common 
area'.  Our own little bullpit, Scully.  And while 
all the dust and hammering is going on, we'll move to 
some temporary quarters up on the fourth or fifth 
floor."  I closed the dishwasher door and turned to 
take her in a hug.  "I think this was meant as some 
kind of promotion."

She reared back from me, giving me a hard look.  "You 
seem awfully calm about this," she retorted.

"I'll admit, I was a little peeved," I countered.  At 
her raised eyebrow, I relented a little more.  "OK, I 
was totally pissed off."

"So what changed your mind?" she asked, still 
regarding me like a bug under a microscope.

I dropped my hand from her back and slid it around so 
that it was resting on her stomach -- right over our 
unborn child.  I rubbed her tummy for a moment, 
looking only into her eyes.

She nodded, as understanding and acceptance finally 
overwhelmed her.  We spoke no more of it that 
evening.  We were much too busy with other activities 
to care.

xXx

Scully's journal -

T minus a few days and counting:

My mind keeps running over the list of things I still 
need to do and get in order for all to be prepared 
for The Day.

I'm probably giving myself and the baby a headache, 
even Mulder too, though our 'link' seems to be quiet 
at the moment. Perhaps we've just been too busy to 
use it. So to try to throw my racing thoughts into 
reverse, I start thinking of the things that are 
already done.

I have the perfect dress. Empire line, so there is no 
waist to worry about adjusting. I know how I want my 
hair done - piled in curls to match the era. Sort of 
how you see it in those adaptations of Jane Austin's 
novels. No veil. Mulder bought me a beautiful hair 
comb as a present that I'm going to wear as well. He 
found it in a little shop in Georgetown - it has 
pieces of Cowrie shells inlaid in it, and the colors 
are incredible. Iridescent blues and greens like 
those found in a peacock's tail. Trust Mulder to find 
something so beautiful and unusual.

With a lot of effort I was able to find lilies to go 
in my bouquet. I nearly had to instigate an APB to 
find some, but it was worth it. I didn't even HAVE a 
bouquet the first time we got married, so I wanted 
one this time. 

The groom. Definitely got him! Check. My man saw that 
I had scheduled naptime into the morning of the 
wedding and he joked, "You're so organized that I 
wouldn't be surprised if you have a bucket wreathed 
with flowers sitting near us when we're making our 
vows, in case you get morning sickness!"

And we have the wedding rings. When Mulder came back 
from his abduction without his ring, I had planned to 
get him another. But Mulder's 'friend' from the UFO 
appeared to him and gave it back. I'm just glad that 
the depression that my husband was sliding into has 
been halted. The frequency of his nightmares has 
eased and he hasn't tried to sleep out on the couch 
again.

xXx

One more day, one more day . . . .

I need a break from thinking about The Wedding for at 
least an hour or so.

Our new X-Files agent, Cal, is doing very well. He 
and Andrea are coming to the wedding (not together, 
apparently).  I was tempted to ask him to be the main 
usher, thanks to his beautiful manners.

Strange to think that he hasn't been with us for very 
long. 

On Agent Callum Wolfe's first day, Mulder and I 
decided to meet the new guy together, and then 
introduce him to Michels in a few hours. So we sent 
her off to do some research. As she left, I heard her 
mutter: "A fox AND a wolf. Great . . . ."

She probably suspected that her request for a 
transfer was going to be denied, so she wasn't in the 
greatest mood to begin with. But soon we might be 
able to finally give her some field experience, which 
will help her odds of success the next time she 
applies for a transfer. ("Might make them into 
'evens'," Mulder had joked to me.)

If Andrea Michels looks a bit like that lovely Lucy 
Lui from 'Charlie's Angels', then Callum Wolfe looks 
like that gorgeous Tom Wellings from 'Judging Amy'. 
That actor deserves his own series, and I hope he 
gets it soon! As a leading man he'd be super.

Our new agent came in, confident and smiling, shaking 
our hands. "It's an honor to meet you both. Cal Wolfe 
reporting for duty."

It looked like he was still keeping up whatever 
exercise regime he had when he served in the Marines, 
though fortunately not the crew cut. Muscular, but 
not overly so, at least as far as I could tell in his 
well-tailored suit. And he carried himself well.

"You'll get to meet the other member of the team, 
Agent Michels, soon," I explained.

Mulder gestured at an empty seat, while we both moved 
to sit in our own, but this young agent came around 
and held my chair out for me. My husband wasn't the 
only one who blinked in surprise. "Thank you," I 
said, and sat, wondering if he was being over-
solicitous to the pregnant woman - but not many 
people at the Bureau knew about my condition at that 
stage. Perhaps some major sucking up then, but as Cal 
Wolfe took his chair in front of us, he seemed to be  
genuine.  Well, well . . . .

Mulder cut right to the chase. "Your file makes 
mention of a very interesting incident in the 
Australian Outback when you were younger," he said.

Wolfe nodded, not looking embarrassed or 
uncomfortable about the subject being raised. "Up 
close with a UFO."

"I'd like to hear more about your encounter, if 
that's all right. The details are a little sketchy."

"Sure. Jump in with questions when you like. Twenty 
years ago I was on a camping trip in the Australian 
Outback with one of my uncles."

So he was twelve when it happened. That age seems to 
be the charm . . . .

Wolfe went on to explain that on the third night they 
had stopped at a camping site that was fairly off the 
beaten track, and they were the only people around. 
"Uncle Rob and I were sitting outside his caravan, 
looking at the stars. I wanted him to get his 
telescope out so we could have an even better look, 
but he checked his watch and said it was late, or 
late for me to be up, anyway, and that we could get 
out the telescope on the next night. It was 11.31 
pm."

The young agent paused for a moment, asking with his 
eyes whether we had any questions. Then he continued. 
"As my uncle was getting up, he stared off eastward. 
I looked, and there was something in the sky over the 
horizon. It was not a star. It was large and blue, 
triangular, and had these incredible colors - red, 
yellow, orange - flashing across it. We just stared. 
Uncle Rob grabbed my hand. I'm not sure if he was 
about to pick me up and run in the car or what. I 
wanted to get a camera or binoculars, but before 
either of us could say or do anything, the UFO moved 
towards us and suddenly it was right overhead, just 
hovering. It hadn't made a sound. It moved incredibly 
fast and smoothly, and seemed to take up about a 
third of the sky." Wolfe gave us a frank look. 
"Honestly, I was too amazed to be frightened." 

"Then there was a bright light? Cool and hot at the 
same time, according to your file," Mulder said.

"Yes. It seemed to come from the middle of the 
underbelly of the craft. It didn't hurt. There were 
so many colors - even some I'm not sure actually 
exist! Not here, anyway. My uncle said the same 
later. Then the light was gone and we couldn't see 
anything. Not the craft or the stars or each other. I 
could feel Uncle Rob still holding onto my hand and 
he was asking me if I was all right. He said he 
couldn't see either. Then I started to feel 
frightened that I was blind for good, but a few 
seconds later our sight began to come back. There was 
no sign of the UFO and once Uncle Rob was sure that I 
was okay, he looked at his watch. Since he'd looked 
at it just before the craft appeared, we knew for 
sure that nine minutes had gone. The next morning, we 
couldn't see any trace of anything strange or 
different at the camp."

"The top of the caravan wasn't scorched?" Mulder 
asked.

"Not that I know of," Wolfe replied. "I wish my uncle 
was still alive - he died seven years ago. It would 
be an interesting question to ask him. And ever since 
that night, I've wanted to know more. That UFO was 
incredible.  Beautiful."

"Trust me, they're not as nice on the inside," my 
husband told him without a trace of wryness, a 
comment to which Wolfe nodded seriously in response.

"I wasn't taken or mindwiped. No implants or probes. 
Same with Uncle Rob."

Mulder said, "Those who experience only nine minutes 
of missing time rarely are abducted. Agent Scully and 
I have had the 'nine minuters' happen to us at least 
twice together."

"So you believe in UFOs and aliens," I asked Wolfe.

"Absolutely," he replied without hesitation. "The 
craft I saw was too large and incredible to be made 
by humans."

"And do you believe in anything else paranormal?"

"It's a large and strange world. I'm sure there is a 
lot out there. I guess I'm more 'show me first' with 
such things, but I wouldn't dismiss them out of hand 
either."

It sounded like he'll be quicker on the paranormal 
uptake than me. But at least he won't swallow things 
whole without checking first.

And since then I have found that Wolfe is the real 
deal. His manners are so polished that they shine, 
yet there is no fakery or snobbery in his manner. 
Like Mulder, he comes from money but doesn't act like 
it. And like Mulder, others might find his ideas and 
ideals somewhat strange, but he doesn't care. There 
are also signs of steel under that silk exterior.

As for Andrea . . . .

I still remember the looks that Michels gave Wolfe 
when he kept standing up when she entered the room, 
and with the chair thing. Then there was the first 
time that I sent them off together on an errand. 
Mulder was out of the office, and Wolfe escorted 
Michels through the doorway, putting his hand on her 
back. I saw Andrea stiffen at the contact and I knew 
what was about to happen.

Before she could whirl around and give him a piece of 
her mind or the whole of her fist, I hastily called 
out her name. Both of them turned and looked at me, 
startled.  "Michels, I need to see you. Wolfe, go out 
to the car; she'll be with you in a minute."

"Okay." He looked puzzled, but too polite to call me 
on it.  Though I'm sure that if I was a suspect or a 
witness he'd have found a way. "Excuse me."

As soon as he was gone, Michels exploded. "Did you 
see that? How dare he do that!"

"Andrea! Calm down and sit down for a moment. I've 
been watching him and I saw that. I can assure you he 
didn't mean anything by it other than courtesy. There 
was no impropriety or pawing. He was simply being a 
gentleman."

"A gentleman?" she spluttered in disbelief.

"Yes, and they're such a dying breed that we don't 
tend to recognize one when we see him."

"Has he never heard of women's liberation? And there 
was no need to touch me. I can get through a doorway 
by myself - I don't need to be guided!" she said, 
fuming.

"Yes, we are capable of doing things for ourselves, 
but this is simply a chivalrous gesture. It was 
sweet. Mulder used to do that with me. He still 
does."

The expression on Michels' face said: 'Yes, and look 
how that's turned out! I rest my case.' But she held 
her tongue. 

I couldn't help but suggest with a grin, "Next time, 
how about you hold the door for him and say 'My 
turn,' and that will also give you the chance to 
check out his rear when he goes through."

She stared at me, wondering if she had heard 
correctly.

"I'm joking, Andrea. Though I have heard that a lot 
of women in this building do just that when he's 
walking by."

She considered for a moment, then started laughing.

I continued, "I think that he has just been raised in 
a very old-fashioned way, and that's not to say it's 
wrong.  However, if the hand moves any lower or 
higher when he escorts you through a doorway or he 
does anything inappropriate, then you have my full 
permission to deck him.  And of course, if you really 
do have a problem with Wolfe touching you, let him 
know. Then tell me if it still continues and I'll 
take action."

Andrea nodded, looking mollified. "I understand."

"Good. Now your partner is waiting."

A day after that, when we were alone in the office 
again, I asked how things were on that front. Michels 
gave a wry smile. "All right. I'd call him KISA for 
'Knight In Shining Armour', however the sound of it 
could be misconstrued. I know Marines are supposed to 
have impeccable manners but this is off the scale! 
Lucky for him he was never in a real battle 
situation, otherwise he'd insist that the opposition 
shoot at him first . . . . 'After you . . . .'" 

I commented, "It does say something about him that he 
has maintained that level of politeness and 
gallantry. Marines do get impeccable manners drilled 
into them at boot camp, but it comes across as very 
stiff and formal. With Cal, it's so natural, like 
he's been doing it for all of his life. And I think 
when the situation calls for it, he's up to the 
challenge."

She hasn't asked him to stop the hand-on-the-back 
when it occurs - yet - probably because she can see 
what I mean about him doing it only out of politeness 
and that hand not straying any further. And she is 
hoping to be out of here soon anyway.

My other impressions of our new guy: Cal Wolfe is 
also fascinated by the world around him. He's not 
afraid to ask questions and usually does, is 
extremely observant, and has a very open, happy 
personality. He's usually grinning, and not in an 
off-putting way either. He's not obnoxious, but a 
little cocky at times. Perhaps a little gullible.

Mulder has come around to having this new team member 
'dumped' on us, especially with Cal's enthusiasm and 
willingness. The interaction between them could 
easily develop in time like that of two brothers - 
though no bullying is involved, like I saw Bill do 
sometimes towards Charlie. And I'm sure that once 
Mulder is back on full field agent status that he and 
Cal will disappear during some lunch breaks to play 
basketball.

In short, Cal Wolfe might turn out to be just what 
Mulder needs. I think he'll prove to be an asset to 
the team.

My husband also thinks that Wolfe might be just what 
Andrea needs. When we were alone in the office a few 
days ago, he told me, "Those two are perfect for each 
other. I wonder if it's going to take them as long to 
realize and do something about it as we did?"

I just gave him a look, too busy juggling paperwork 
and some pressing wedding issues to give him the odds 
on that little match ever happening. Or to have a 
lively debate about it, especially when the two 
people in question could possibly overhear. It was 
enough of a miracle that Mulder and I ever got 
together, without thinking that lightning - or 
Cupid's arrows - will strike twice in the X-Files 
division.

Time will tell.

In-between me organizing all these wedding details, 
Andrea and I have had some great intellectual and 
theoretical conversations - especially with her 
having a chemical engineering physics degree. I look 
forward to having even more when all this is behind 
us.

After our honeymoon, Mulder will be back on full time 
work.  And the work on remodeling and expanding our 
basement office is going well. Even according to 
schedule. Soon we'll be able to move down there 
again. Which is good, because I do miss it there.

Mulder told me he expected me to blow my top when he 
first gave me the news about us getting a new agent 
and moving offices on top of the wedding and 
pregnancy. But fortunately I had incompetent idiots 
to channel it all at in the course of arranging this 
and that for The Day, and Skinner organized for 
everything to be moved for us by people we trusted. 
Though all that upheaval has probably been a 
contributing factor in the division being so quiet, 
case-wise, lately. That should all change soon.

An extra person will be very handy, especially 
considering Mulder has just come back from sick leave 
and that I'm expecting (and bound to start expanding 
soon). And Wolfe is a wiz at computers - another 
brownie point in his favor. A _big_ one.

More room in the basement will be great - "Hope they 
remember to have room for a little nursery alcove," 
Mulder joked - and we get adjoining offices. How 
romantic . . . . 

xXx

The Day (no time to write in journal!):

I just wanted a beautiful, relaxed day for our 
wedding. I figured that if I got as much as possible 
sorted out beforehand, then even though there was 
still a lot to do that could only be done on the day 
itself, it would run like clockwork. That's the least 
we deserve. 

So I planned our wedding day carefully - it's a mid-
afternoon ceremony, with time for me to have a nap 
before I start getting ready.

Of course, that was before I discovered that the 
boutonnieres I picked out for Mulder, the Gunmen, 
Skinner, Bill and Charlie were sent to a church in 
Falls Church, Virginia and we received, of all 
things, tiger lilies in their stead. Now, I love a 
good tiger lily as much as the next person, but they 
don't exactly blend well with the rose garden motif I 
had planned. Then, when the decorators called from 
the Library, they mentioned that 15 tables had been 
delivered for the reception, but only 24 chairs. I 
ordered 10 tables and 40 chairs, since we managed to 
invite not only Skinner, but most of the Bureau. I 
don't expect everyone to show up, but then Mom added 
a few names to the list and it got completely out of 
hand.

I woke up late, of course. My husband/groom, in his 
infinite wisdom, decided to turn off the alarm clock 
so that I could catch up on my 'beauty rest'. OK, 
that's as good as saying I _need_ to sleep because 
I'm not looking that great!  And what does he do 
while I'm sawing logs when there are a million and 
one things to do in the house?  He went out running, 
took a shower and then left the house to do 
'errands'. Just like a typical Saturday!  He left the 
house just after 9 and it's a quarter to noon with no 
sign of him. 

If he leaves me at the altar this time, I'll divorce 
the bastard on the spot!

I hear people going up and down the hallway at 
intervals, but can tell that none of them are my 
husband. My nephew Matty is easy enough to pick as he 
thunders by. Charlie's kids are staying with his 
wife's parents in Maine for the long weekend, 
otherwise they'd be racing around too.  I'm trying to 
find the bag from Victoria's Secrets with the slip I 
bought to go under my dress when Mom taps on our 
bedroom door.

"Sweetheart, the caterer just called. They want to 
know if you arranged for dry ice for the salmon?"

I turn and stare at her. "What salmon?  I didn't 
order salmon. Charlie's allergic to salmon, Mom."

"I know that, dear," Mom says, with a look that only 
she can give. "I'm his mother. I know all my 
children's allergies.  But that doesn't answer the 
question for the caterer now, does it?"

"Mom, I didn't order salmon!" I restate emphatically. 
"And what the hell are we paying for if they don't 
provide the refrigeration for the food they serve?  
I'm not giving all our guests food poisoning and 
paying them for the privilege!"

"Maybe you should talk to the man," Mom says, a 
little defensively.

I need to find that slip!  "Mom, have you seen a pink 
and white striped bag in the closet?  I picked it up 
last week and put it in here and now I can't find 
it." 

"Maybe Fox moved it, sweetheart. He was helping me 
put some dry cleaning away and there were a number of 
bags on the floor. I thought I heard him say 
something about the spare bedroom closet."

I start out the door for the spare bedroom but Mom 
grabs my arm. "Dana, the caterer," she says and 
points to the phone by our bed.

I grab the phone, ready to do battle. After fifteen 
minutes of trying to understand the man, who is 
obviously a recent immigrant from Korea, I am able to 
get through to him that this is the MULDER wedding, 
not the MUELLER wedding and we do not have salmon on 
the menu. Once that is settled, I hang up the phone 
and sit on the bed.

What the hell was I looking for?

And then, in breezes my husband/groom.

"Hey, babe, aren't you supposed to be taking a nap?" 
he asks, all sweetness and concern.

"Why?  Didn't I get enough 'beauty rest' for you?" I 
fire back.

I must admit, he has the good grace to blush. "You 
looked so cute, all curled up under the blankets. You 
didn't sleep that late and you needed the rest."

"For future reference, Agent Fox William Mulder, _I_ 
will be the judge of how much rest I need, thank you 
very much!"  I didn't even know I was mad at him 
until I hear my voice yelling at him.

He now looks totally perplexed. "Where the hell did 
that come from?" he asks, fists now planted on each 
hip. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"What did you do?  I'll tell you what you did:  
Nothing!!  Not one goddamned thing!  You have been 
absolutely silent on every decision made for this 
wedding. When I wanted to pick out the flower 
arrangements, you told me to pick out what ever I 
wanted. When I wanted to pick out the tux, you told 
me to get the one I liked. When I talked to the 
caterers, you had no opinion at all on the menu!  
You, Mr. 'if it's not greasy spoon, I don't think my 
stomach can handle it', sat there and let me pick a 
meal fit for the Queen of England at high tea and 
said absolutely nothing!!!  That is what you've 
done!!"  I can't seem to get a breath through my nose 
and now water is coming from my eyes and I have no   
idea why this is happening to me on our wedding day.

"Nothing?  Nothing, you say!  Well, let me tell you 
something Agent Dana Katherine Scully!  I didn't have 
any opinion on this whole shebang because I wanted 
you to have _your day_!  That's right, Scully, _your 
day_!  I got to pick the last wedding and that was 
nice enough, but this time, I wanted you to have the 
fun -" 

"Fun?  HA!" I interrupt but he ignores me completely.

"- of picking out all the nice stuff yourself!  
Scully, I'm a complete cad!  You knew that when you 
first met me and if you've forgotten it, I'm sorry. I 
couldn't plan a wedding with Emily Post and Amy 
Vanderbilt acting as my guides!  I'm a total loser, 
and I can't imagine why in the world you would agree 
to marry me ONCE, much less twice, but I guess I'm 
just damned lucky!" he yells at the top of his lungs.

And suddenly, I launch myself at him, turn him in an 
180 that would do my hand-to-hand instructor at the 
Academy proud and in less than 2 minutes, we are 
naked and going at it on our bed like it's our first 
time together. It takes Mulder all of a second to 
figure out what is happening and he joins in the 
merriment with full vigor. I'm kissing and stroking 
and being kissed and being stroked and we're fighting 
with the comforter and it falls to the floor and 
somehow a shoe is wedged under my hip and Mulder 
tosses it over his shoulder like a wine glass into 
the flame, but thank god, we don't hear the sound of 
glass breaking when it hits its unintended target, 
the window. And then there's no sound but our heavy 
breathing, and soft moans and Mulder nibbling at my 
ear and sighing 'Scully, love you, love you, love 
you' and my sobbing, but it's a happy, joyful sound 
mingled with 'forever, Mulder, love you forever' and 
then I crying out and he's crying out and we fly . .  
.

I come around to the sound of a tap on the door. Oh 
shit.

"Um, yeah?" I call out. Mulder's eyes start roaming 
around trying to find the boxers I think might have 
landed under the chair near the window.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry to wake you," Mom says through 
the door. "I was just wondering, have you seen Fox?"

Um, yes, Mom. ALL of him!

Mulder turns bright red, almost as if my mother has 
caught us making love in my room when we were 
supposed to studying for our high school chemistry 
final. Then, he's laughing. It's a quiet laugh at 
first, but soon turns into a full belly laugh. I 
smack his arm, but only half-heartedly. I try to 
answer Mom through my own giggles.

"Mom, Mulder's in here, with me. What do you need?"

There is silence on the other side of the door. "Oh, 
well, OK. Um, Dana, the decorators just called back. 
They found the other 26 chairs and they're bringing 
20 more just in case. Oh, and Cal, the sweetie, ran 
out to the florist supply house and found the most 
perfect boutonnieres. I tried to pay him for them, 
but he said to consider them his wedding present to 
you."

I lie back on the bed, naked as the day I was born, 
and pull my husband close to me. It is true. 
Sometimes all you need is a good lay. "Thanks, Mom." 
I lean over and kiss Mulder tenderly. "We'll be up in 
a minute."

"That's fine, Sweetheart. Take your time. Just 
remember, you are getting married today." I swear I 
can hear a smile in her voice.

We hear her walk away. Mulder has managed to bring 
his merriment under control. "So, babe, do you still 
want to marry me?" he asks.

"I believe so. After all, I know what I'm getting, 
don't I?  In many departments!" I give a look 
downwards that threatens to send him off again - into 
laughter, that is. "So today is 'my day'?" I ask.

"Yeah, to make up for the rushed and unexpected 
ceremony I gave you the last time."

"Mulder, that ceremony was one of the most moving and 
happy times of my life." I smile at him, then pause 
for a moment of reflection. "And another reason it 
worked so well was probably because there was no 
planning to screw it up!"

"You could have said no," my husband reminds me. 
"That would have certainly screwed things up big 
time. Then it would have been quite a long and quiet 
trip back from Connecticut. . . ."

"Well, I wanted today to be perfect, not for me, but 
for you."

"Me?" he asks in surprise.

"Yes, because you're home and safe and we're together 
and expecting, and it's supposed to be perfect now.
It's the least that the universe owes us!" Damn, I'm 
nearly crying again.

He reaches out and tenderly strokes my face.

I think back over the last weeks and say wryly, 
"Planning a wedding is stressful enough at the best 
of times, without adding pregnancy hormones into the 
mix. Perhaps we should elope this time too."

"Tempting. Very tempting. And so are you. . . ." 
Mulder starts nibbling at my shoulder.

I give him a light slap on the rear. "Save it for our 
wedding night. Unfortunately, we'd better get a move 
on."

"Hopefully we're not too far behind your schedule, 
though I have to say, that little deviation was well 
worth it."

We share wicked little grins. "Absolutely," I agree. 
"The groom isn't supposed to see the bride in her 
wedding dress before the ceremony, but this was the 
birthday suit! And a very happy birthday with many 
happy returns it was."

"Well, _my_ birthday is coming up very soon . . . ." 
Mulder points out. He gets up, then leans down for 
another kiss.  "Can't wait to see you in your dress. 
You're going to look so beautiful."

When we leave our bedroom, I feel serene. Even when 
Charlie nervously tells me that Matthew (who he was 
supposed to keep an eye on) somehow managed to smear 
some chocolate on his tux on its hanger, it doesn't 
phase me.

xXx

Cal's point of view.

I'm not so much for these fancy gatherings.  But when 
the invitation came to attend my bosses' wedding, 
well, it's just darned hard to find an excuse.  It's 
like Mom is always telling me, when you get invited, 
people are counting on you to come.  To turn them 
down would not only be impolite, I've come to like 
the Mulders.

I couldn't help but think it was a little weird, 
having a full wedding when they're already married.  
Apparently it has to do with Agent Mulder's return 
from his purported alien abduction, something I'm 
still picking up on through the office grapevine and 
the little Andrea -- er, Agent Michels has let slip 
during our few conversations.  I'm not saying Agent 
Mulder wasn't abducted by aliens, I think there is 
substantial evidence to support that conclusion.  I'm 
just saying, well, once married, always married.  Why 
go through it all twice?  But it seems this is more a 
'reception' for the family and friends who didn't get 
to attend the first wedding and that I can 
understand.  Who can argue with a good excuse for a 
party, right?

It's been a strange three weeks since I started with 
the X Files Division.  Most of my time has been going 
through old files, making myself familiar with the 
kinds of cases we investigate.  I haven't had this 
much fun since the Academy!  I started with what I 
thought would be some easy ones - Alien Abduction is 
a drawer unto itself, and boy, did I get an eyeful!  
I tried talking over some of the cases with Agent 
Michels, but apparently she is not the talkative 
type.

The wedding has been the 'elephant in the parlor' in 
the office.  Agent Scully-Mulder, as diligent as she 
appears to be, was caught up doing much of the 
preparations in the last week and has been rather 
preoccupied.  Agent Mulder was still on part-time, 
not having full clearance from his doctor to return 
to work on a full time basis.  Agent Michels spent 
most of the week in the stacks, I guess researching 
some of the still open cases.  I'll just be glad when 
this wedding is over, Agent Mulder is back full time 
and we can get started with some investigations in 
the field.

It's a nice day for a wedding.  I've never been in
Washington in the fall and I'm amazed at the beauty 
of the city.  This library, the Shakespearean 
Library, is tucked in a corner right across the 
street from the Capitol Building and just a couple of 
blocks down from the Supreme Court.  I've visited the 
city on other occasions before joining the Bureau, 
but I never knew this place existed.  It reminds me 
of the gardens on the rooftops in San Francisco, a 
perfect little English rose garden in the middle of a 
bustling city.  Mom would love this place, and I'll 
have to remember to bring her here when she and Dad 
come out for a visit.

I see Mrs. Scully talking to a red haired man in a 
tux.  It must be one of her sons.  Mrs. Scully is a 
wonderful person, very caring and open.  When I 
stopped by the Mulder house, to bring the wedding 
gift so they wouldn't have to carry it back after the 
reception, she invited me in and offered me iced tea.  
Even in the middle of all the activity she was very 
generous.  I was happy I remembered that floral 
supply house so the boutonnieres would match the 
bouquets.  It was such a little thing, but she was so 
appreciative.  She made me feel like one of the 
family.

I notice that several of the secretarial pool have 
put in an appearance.  Agent Scully-Mulder is very 
well thought of at the Bureau.  Kimberly, Assistant 
Director Skinner's assistant, is always speaking 
highly of both her and Agent Mulder.  I see a few of 
the women I've had the pleasure of taking out to 
dinner:  Amber, Heather, Trisha and Marlene. I nod 
and wave in their direction.  Amber always gives me 
that look, the one that makes me want to check the 
corner of my mouth for mustard or ketchup.  I wonder 
why she does that?

Agent Michels has arrived.  I wave at her and she 
must not see me because she turns away.  Agent 
Michels is a very pretty woman, but she just doesn't 
seem interested in her appearance.  Those Asian 
features are so attractive.  If only she would wear 
her hair a little looser, like Agent Scully-Mulder.  
And maybe try a different color for her pantsuits, 
although I have heard that black is very slimming.

Heather is coming toward me with one of the wedding 
programs in her hand.

"Cal, is this seat taken?" she asks.

"No, absolutely not.  How have you been, Heather?"

"I was hoping to get a call from you.  I have tickets 
to the Kennedy Center next Friday.  Washington 
Philharmonic is performing at a benefit concert for 
the World Wildlife Federation.  Would you like to 
go?"

"Sure!  What time should I pick you up?"

xXx

Andrea's point of view:

Well, I'm here.  I swore up and down I would find 
some excuse to miss this event, but when push came to 
shove, I figured it was important.  Besides, 
Assistant Director Walter Skinner is the best man and 
I have been meaning to talk to him about my request 
for transfer.

It's not that I don't like my current assignment.  I 
can see where working on cold cases would be 
considered an important task, and one the Bureau 
should take seriously.  I'm more concerned with the 
nature of the investigations.  In the last few weeks, 
I've been looking into the reports from other agents 
on the activities of the X Files division.  
Basically, it's a joke.  Almost no one takes it 
seriously, except for Skinner and apparently one or 
two people in the front office.  The biggest 
supporters are members of Congress, people who owe 
Agent Mulder favors for work he did when he was with 
the Behavioral Science Unit.  In other words, I'm 
stuck in the Romper Room and I really want to find 
the quickest way out.

But while I'm there, I have to keep up appearances.
Attending the wedding of the two senior agents is all 
about appearances, though not theirs.  I can't 
imagine what wool was pulled over the eyes of the 
front office that allows them to continue to work in 
the same division, much less remain essentially 
'partners'.  It's a clear violation of the unwritten 
policy regarding romance between partners and the 
written policy on fraternization of agents in motel 
rooms during cases.  I'm quite sure they won't be 
checking into separate rooms in the field.  For that 
matter, soon enough they'll need to bring a nanny and 
order a crib! 

As I enter the rose garden, I spot him.  Oh god.  Is 
it too late to turn back?  Cal Wolfe.  What a perfect 
name.  He's just like a wolf, too.  All thin and 
gangly.  Some women would swoon over that baby face 
and those tanned muscles that ripple under those 
white dress shirts.  For that matter, one of the 
support staff is already firmly attached to his side.  
Wonder when he bedded her?  No, I don't wonder.  It's 
absolutely none of my business whom he beds.
But I will make it perfectly clear that when we are 
on a case, there will be no bedding!  I might have to 
rephrase that to make it come out right, but he'll 
get the picture.

The little 'chat' Agent Scully-Mulder gave me about 
Agent Wolfe was an eye-opener.  At first, I was 
appalled that she would advocate 'turning the other 
cheek' to sexual harassment.  After our conversation 
I can understand the 'reasonable person's defense' in 
these matters.  I shouldn't be offended by casual 
contact.  However, I still find his constant jumping 
up and down whenever I enter a room to be not only 
disconcerting but a clear indication that he thinks
I'm there only in a social setting, not as a work 
associate.  And if that hand grazes my back one more 
time, I'm slicing it off with a dull knife at my 
earliest opportunity!

Good, his back is finally turned.  I notice that his 
little entourage has drawn straws and Heather is the 
winner.  How women can stoop so low, I will never 
understand.  But it's really none of my concern.  She 
can sit with anyone she likes.  I notice she is 
sitting with Agent Wolfe on the groom's side of the 
seating, so I will find a place on the bride's side.

I've always found weddings to be rather boring.  
Everyone dressed to the nines, all formal and after a 
short while the flowers kick up my allergies.  It 
never fails that halfway through a wedding, I have a 
stuffy nose and tears running down my face.  Of 
course everyone assumes it's because of the 
emotionally moving ceremony.  HA!  Give me some 
Claritin D and I'd be dry eyed and sniffle free.

Oops.  I picked the wrong chair.  I'm sitting right 
behind the bride's family.  I start to move but Mrs. 
Scully, Agent Scully-Mulder's mother, stops me.

"No, Andrea, please stay.  With my daughters-in-law 
standing up with Dana, it's just me and little Matty 
here.  Come up here and sit with us!"

And that's how I end up front row center on this 
circus. 

The music is starting.  I must say, for a child, 
Matthew Scully is very well behaved.  He shook my 
hand (I checked it for peanut butter) and then 
settled in next to his grandmother with a storybook.  
He is a cute kid.  Blond hair with just a hint of red 
in it when the sun catches it the right way.  I'm 
sure his parents are very proud of him.

Mrs. Scully is beaming as she looks down the aisle.  
Oh yes, the attendants.  The dresses are very lovely, 
Victorian tea length gowns.  So much ivory lace and 
pale blue underneath on one dress and pale green 
under the other.  Very sedate, yet very striking in 
their own way.  The bouquets are ivory colored rose 
buds.  So pretty, really, if one prefers that style.

I turn my head toward the altar and finally see Agent
Mulder.  Oh my.  He's in a black tux with cummerbund 
and he looks incredible.  Then I look closer and 
notice he's not wearing a tie!  The shirt is even 
unbuttoned at the collar.  What a rebel.  But the 
look on his face is what doesn't leave my gaze.  He 
looks . . . there's no other way to say it.  He looks 
like someone at the back of this very crowded rose 
garden is the only other person here.

I turn around and stand for the bride.  It takes a 
while before I can see her because everyone else is 
in my way. But as she nears the front, I see her 
between the heads of the other people.  Agent -- Dana 
Scully looks radiant!  I don't believe I've ever 
noticed what a very pretty woman she is.  Her hair is 
shining like copper in the sunlight.  Her dress is 
very simple, a Victorian style gauze and linen but 
with enough lace accents to be extremely flattering 
to her coloring and her size.  A very striking shell 
comb with flowers attached holds back part of her 
hair.  She is smiling at Agent -- Fox and there is no 
one here but the two of them.

By the look in their eyes, I can see what they mean 
to each other.  Maybe this wasn't just a quick jump 
into bed because of working in close proximity.  
Maybe this is the exception to the rule of 
fraternization.  Maybe they are meant to be together, 
in every way, always.

The priest is very casual, in good humor.  He 
explains that this is a renewal of vows, but that 
last time around Dana got cheated out of seeing Fox 
in a tux and wasn't going to let that happen again.  
He told us that Fox had a habit of disappearing for 
long periods of time, but we could all rest assured 
that wouldn't be happening today.  Then the couple 
turned to each other and said their vows.

See, it's just what I was saying!  Those damned roses 
everywhere have started my nose running and my eyes 
tearing!  Mrs. Scully totally misunderstands and 
reaches around Matty to hand me a tissue and squeeze 
my shoulder.  As the groom vows his love in sickness 
and in health, something catches in my throat and 
when I try to clear it, I sound almost like I'm 
sobbing.  I end up using the tissue Mrs. Scully gave 
me and three more from my purse.

When the bride and groom kiss, he puts one hand 
tenderly over her stomach as he leans in to kiss her 
just a little too long for polite company.  But I can 
say that it was the most romantic thing I'd ever 
seen. 

As we file out of the chairs to get in line and greet 
the happy couple, a crew comes out and rearranges the 
chairs around tables for the reception.  Since I'm 
with Mrs. Scully, I'm the first to see the Mulders.

"Andrea!  I'm so happy you made it!" Agent Scully-
Mulder says as she leans in to give me a quick hug.

"Michels, thanks for coming," Agent Mulder says and 
he leans down and hugs me as well.

"The ceremony was beautiful," I tell them.  I think 
it's the first time I've ever really meant those 
words.  "I mean that.  It was beautiful."

Agent Mulder's smile grows brighter.  "Well, I let 
Scully handle everything," he says as he pulls his 
bride to him.  She takes the moment to hit him in the 
arm, but smiles up at him at the same time.

"Mulder and I would like to have a picture with you 
and Agent Wolfe, if you don't mind, Andrea."

I hesitate, but finally smile and nod.  "Sure, why 
not."

"Thanks," Dana says and turns to the next guests in 
line, I think it might be Agent Mulder's aunt and 
uncle.

xXx

Reception

My first impulse is to down one glass of champagne, 
wander over to Assistant Director Skinner, ask if he 
has any word on my transfer and after his answer, 
beat a hasty retreat.  Oh, what a simple plan.

It's not that this isn't a lovely wedding.  It's just 
that it's, well, a lovely wedding.  I'm not a 'lovely 
wedding' person.  I'm not in the mood for the small 
talk, the glowing smiles at the happy couple.  I 
can't stand it when people clink their glasses and 
the groom scoops the bride into an X-rated kiss.  OK, 
maybe only R-rated, but more than I want to see of my 
boss and my other boss.

But before I have chance, I run smack into him.  
Wolfe.  How I'm really beginning to hate that name.

He's standing there, all charm and suave and just a 
touch of innocent.  And all I want to do is find the 
nearest exit.  It has to be here somewhere!  But 
then, before I can move, he's taking my elbow and 
escorting me . . . oh, no!  Not the dance floor!

"Agent Wolfe, I don't dance," I tell him firmly.

"Ah, c'mon, Agent Michels.  Everyone dances at a 
wedding.  Look, even the Assistant Director is 
cuttin' a rug!"

I look over and see that AD Skinner is weaving his 
way around the small dance floor with Mrs. Scully.  
They are both laughing.  Bet she doesn't even notice 
when he steps on her toe.

"Just one.  I promise, I took dance classes," Wolfe 
is telling me.  Oh, I'm absolutely sure of that.  If 
it's possible to be 'too cultured', that would be 
Agent Wolfe! 

"Listen, isn't that Stairway to Heaven?" he asks and 
he's got my hand and I can't exactly pull away, 
everyone is watching.  I see the Mulders sway past 
us, Agent Mulder gives us the 'thumbs up' and Agent 
Scully-Mulder gives me an encouraging nod and a 
smile.  Oh, this is not going to work, not at all.  
But how do I get out of it?  It suddenly hits me that 
Stairway to Heaven is a very long song.  And I'm 
stuck in the middle of the dance floor with Agent Cal 
'Fred Astaire' Wolfe.

Note to self, _always_ find all the exits when 
attending a garden wedding.

His hands, I note, are in the proper 'hips and 
shoulders' positions.  I would gladly spike his 
Achilles tendon with my high heels if he tried any 
lower on my hip.  I think he senses this because 
there's a thin film of sweat appearing on his upper 
lip.

"Warm day," he comments as he twirls me right around.

In my concerted effort to avoid staring at him, I 
watch over his shoulder.  The clerical staff, his 
groupies, are clustered just off the dance floor.  
They're glaring at us. Oh great.  Now we'll get to be 
water cooler fodder.  I'm pretty sure they're drawing 
straws to see who will wait for me in the ladies room 
and spill pig blood on my suit.

The song ends and he's still holding my hand as we 
walk toward the tables.  I try to pull away, but I 
hear Agent Mulder clinking a glass and trying to get 
everyone's attention.

"Everyone, if I could have your attention, please!  
This won't take long, I promise."

"Must not be one of your justifications for a lost 
cell phone," I hear AD Skinner shout from the back of 
the tables.  Agent Mulder grins widely at that.

"No, sir.  More like my annual budget summary."

"Ah, total fiction," Skinner replies and the crowd 
breaks into laughter.

"Not really, sir," Agent Mulder fires back.  He takes 
his wife's hand and smiles down at her.  "I, well, 
we, just wanted to thank everyone for coming today 
and helping us celebrate our marriage."

"At least you had the decency of letting us sleep in 
this time," I hear an older gentleman say loudly.

"That was Scully's idea, Uncle Jacob.  She set the 
time for this wedding," Agent Mulder replies.

"Knew I liked that girl!" the older man's wife calls 
out and again the assembled crowd breaks into 
laughter.

"OK, OK, let's settle down so I can get this all 
out," Mulder says good-heartedly.  "Thank you all for 
coming.  I'd like to thank Scully's, er, Dana's 
brother Bill for walking her down the aisle.  
Actually, I'd like to thank him for not kidnapping 
her to a deserted island in the South Pacific until 
she came to her senses," he adds with a chuckle.

"Mom threatened me," Bill replies with a shrug.

"But also, we have an announcement and figured it 
would be easier to make it here, with everyone we 
love around us."  Mulder leans over and brushes the 
hair off his wife's face where a breeze has mussed 
it.  There is so much love in his expression, it 
almost hurts to see it.

"January 1, 2000, Dana Scully consented to spend the 
rest of her life with me as my wife.  We've just 
about put those wedding vows to the test this year.  
We've had sickness, health, and some rough spots that 
we'd both rather leave behind us.  But during those 
10 months, a miracle happened. Our love grew, yes.  
It grew bigger than the two of us."  He looks out 
over the crowd and puts his arm around Agent Scully-
Mulder's shoulders, drawing her to him.  "We're going 
to have a baby."

The crowd immediately starts applauding.  Some of the 
women come up and hug Agent Scully-Mulder.  Many of 
the men shake Agent Mulder's hand.  And when I look 
down, I realize that I've been holding Agent Wolfe's 
hand through the whole announcement.

I really do think it's time to leave.

As I'm headed for the exit -- its been hiding behind 
some rose bushes all this time -- I feel a tug on my 
arm.

"Agent Michels, Dana's been looking for you.  They're 
ready to take some pictures."

I turn and see Mrs. Scully's smiling face.

"I really should be going," I try for an escape, but 
it's obvious it's not going to work with this woman.

"Oh, I understand completely, but it's just one 
picture. Please?  Dana and Fox really do want to get 
a group picture of the new division.  And what better 
time, right, when you're all just getting to know 
each other?"

Well, there is not a lot I can say to that, so I just 
nod and follow her over to a corner of the garden.  
There is a rose trellis, the smell is almost 
overpowering, and I feel my sinuses closing up again.  
I bite the inside of my cheek, square my shoulders 
and join the other three.

"Michels, it's not a firing squad," Agent Mulder 
teases.  He gets a well-placed glare from his wife 
for his comments.  I try to appear to be having a 
good time.  It's probably not working.

"Thank you so much for coming, Andrea," Agent Scully-
Mulder says again as the photographer man handles us 
all into some semblance of a line.  First it is women 
on the left, men on the right, but he doesn't like 
that so he moves Agent Wolfe, me next, then Agent 
Scully-Mulder and finally Agent Mulder.  That seems 
to satisfy him and he gets back behind the camera.

"OK, people, hold still, please.  Let's have a big 
smile.  On the count of three . . ."

And that damned hand is on my back again!  I move 
slightly, to relieve the contact, but much to my 
dismay, the photographer catches me.

"Now, now, none of that.  No moving, please.  I can't 
capture a blur," he says with a strained smile.

I scoot back and bite both my top and bottom lips 
between my teeth to keep from screaming.

"Now, one more time.  Everybody say 'Cheese'!"

I don't know why photographers always do that, but 
it's become so ingrained that I say 'cheese' along 
with everyone else.  But it will be easy to find me 
in the picture.  I'll be the one blushing more than 
the bride.

Now, I'm definitely leaving.

"Thank you for inviting me, Agents.  It really was a 
lovely afternoon," I try to sound sincere.  My mother 
would kill me if I didn't attempt for some civility.

"See you Tuesday, Michels.  Enjoy the extra day off.  
When we get back, we'll be looking at cases, real 
cases, out in the field.  Something you can really 
sink your teeth into," Agent Mulder promises.

"I'll be looking forward to it, Agent Mulder."  
Mother would be so proud of me!

"Can I walk you to your car?"

I spin around and see Agent Wolfe smiling at me.
 
"There's no need," I assure him.

"Well, do you mind if we walk out together?  I'm 
about to leave, too."

I close my eyes and try counting to ten.  I only get 
to five but I open them anyway.  "All right," I tell 
him.  This civility stuff is very taxing after a 
while.

He says his goodbyes, gets a hug from Mrs. Scully and 
finally we're walking out of the garden.  I can't 
help but let out a relieved sigh.

"Tough day," he comments.

I glare at him, that had to be a shot.

"I mean, so much excitement.  It's been the talk of 
the office for weeks, I'd imagine.  All that planning 
and it's all over in an afternoon."

"I didn't have to plan for anything," I tell him.

"No, I mean, it's been a lot of commotion in the 
office, that's all."

"Well, it's all over and now maybe we can get back to 
normal," I tell him.  Normal.  Whatever that is.

We arrive at my car.  I click the lock from my keys 
and I'm about to reach for the handle, but he beats 
me to it.  I fight to control the urge to yank the 
car door from his hands and give him a tight smile.  
"I guess I'll see you on Tuesday," I tell him.

"Bright and early," he says with a big smile.

I do plan on being there bright and early.  I'll be 
the one parked outside the Human Resources 
Department, searching the positions open on the jobs 
bulletin board.

I have to escape, somehow!

xXx

Scully's point of view:

It has been a beautiful wedding and reception. Just 
what I wanted. Now it is time to say the goodbyes.

I am standing next to Mulder when he shakes hands 
with Bill.  "Thank you," my husband says with 
feeling, and I know that isn't just for him giving me 
away. My elder brother has been on his best behavior 
today towards 'the usurper'. 

Bill is also aware of the message in Mulder's words. 
"Consider it a wedding present," he replies, with 
some gruffness in his voice.

Then Mulder steps back to give us two siblings a few 
minutes together. Big brother hugs me and his eyes 
are getting a little wet.

"Okay, so you've married him twice now. Not much I 
can do about it. But if he ever runs off on you again 
. . . ."

"You'll have to stand in line to kick his ass," I 
promise solemnly. "I love you, Big Brother."

"I love you too, Squirt."

The Gunmen envelop me in a group hug. Skinner tells 
us he's glad today went well, and wishes us all the 
best. "No one else deserves it more."

"That was beautiful," Aunt Deborah says.

"Our first wedding was just as beautiful, even 
without all the trimmings," I tell her and Uncle 
Jacob. He beams with pride.

"That was worth waiting for," is Mom's summing up of 
today. She hasn't stopped glowing with happiness and 
pride.

Mulder and I have rented a beach house at Ocean City 
in Maryland for the long weekend. A two hour drive. 
It's a very pretty beach condo community, with many 
of the condos right on the beachfront.  This is the 
off-season at the moment, which gave us a nice 
discount. Not that money is a problem, but the bonus 
is that there aren't many other people around. We can 
have the beach to ourselves.

When we were setting our bags out to put in the car 
earlier today, I saw that Mulder had the novel of 
'Tarzan' in the side pocket of his carry on bag. 
"Wanting some tips, wild man?"

"Just some reading material for any quiet moments," 
he replied with dignity.

So all is set for us to leave straight from the 
reception. Our luggage is here, and we change clothes 
after the goodbyes. Mom is taking my dress home, 
along with the gifts. Good thing she has Bill and 
Charlie to help carry home the loot, because with
Mulder's fortieth birthday coming up, Mom and I also 
took the opportunity to treat this as his party too 
while everyone was gathered together. So once we'd 
had the wedding dances and speeches, we did some 
birthday speeches and he got plenty of presents and 
good-natured ribbing. I love the look on his face 
when we brought out a cake for him.

We'll have a more private celebration on the day 
itself. "Friday the 13th . . . ." Mulder pointed out 
wryly to me in private. "And forty . . . . Wow! 
Though with a sexy young wife and a baby on the way, 
I don't think I'll be having a mid life crisis. I'm 
too busy being happy. You could say that life began 
for me at thirty-nine." 

"Good, because you'll be a very sexy and young 
forty!" It's true.  Despite what life has given him, 
Mulder looks and acts a lot younger than others his 
age. And hell - it's just a number! 

It is after six before we leave the reception. We had 
food there, but not a full sit-down dinner, so will 
get something on the way.  We might have to stop a 
few times, because for the last few hours I've really 
been craving grapes. I think I personally devoured 
every last one at the reception, though Mom did 
manage to save me a paper bag full for the trip. She 
has also given us a picnic basket of food, complete 
with Sparkling Apple Cider instead of champagne, 
which we will probably save for our twenty-four hour 
anniversary. Then again, I'll probably get through 
all the food in it before we reach to the condo!

About ten minutes into our trip, Mulder comments from 
behind the wheel, "Phones would be running hot at the 
moment."

"Huh?"

"Everyone from the Bureau who was at the reception 
are probably contacting the others who weren't there 
and telling them about how it went and, more 
importantly, our announcement. By the time we go back 
on Tuesday, everyone from the upper echelons to the 
cleaning staff will know that you're with child."

He's right. "Considering the stir when they found out 
we were already married, this should be huge!" I tell 
him.

"By the way, when us guys were getting ready, Bill 
thought I'd lost my bow tie," Mulder says.

"And what did you tell him? That your open neckline 
was my suggestion, so that it was one less thing to 
get out of my way if I wanted to sneak off with you 
into the rose bushes or a closet?  Easy access and 
all that?" I joke. "Not to mention that I find it is 
a great look on you."

"I didn't want to push my luck. And I did want to 
make it to my wedding night! I just said that it was 
to differentiate me from the other handsome men 
clustered at the altar."

I laugh. The tieless look really suits him. And just 
sums up his rebel nature.

"And remember what I said about Cal and Andrea?" he 
asks me. "They sure looked good together out on the 
dance floor."

I smile at my husband - trust him to be the romantic. 
"Well, they did!" he says defensively.

"There's more to relationships than dancing," I point 
out. Then I start musing about our relationship. 
Seven years together before we took the step, and 
even then, it was a surprise to me when Mulder 
proposed. I mean, I knew I loved the man truly madly 
and deeply, that he was my soulmate, but . . . . 
Well, I was scared.

Nothing like being bundled to the altar to bring 
things to a head and force a decision.

"We'll see about Cal and Andrea. Now you have two 
wedding anniversaries to remember," I point out.

"New Year's Day and Columbus Day weekend - fairly 
easy. And back to full time on Tuesday, at last, if 
you don't make me a drained husk in the meantime."

"Don't dress up as a grape and you should be safe. 
Some of the time anyway." I grin and resume eating.

At one point on the journey I get very philosophical 
about our relationship and personalities. "Despite 
our differences, or perhaps because of them, we go 
together really well - forming a perfect whole. For 
example: skeptic and believer, short and tall, logic 
and instinct, male and female . . . ."

"Those halves all do fit together beautifully," 
Mulder replies with a certain look on his face.

"Yes, and I know which halves you're looking forward 
to fitting together tonight!"

"So are you, Sweetheart," he counters with the serene 
confidence, i.e. smugness, of a man who knows he's 
going to score.

We stop for dinner and a few snack and bathroom 
breaks and to get a few final supplies near the end 
of our journey. It is dark when we get to the condo. 
It is a beachfront one, and tomorrow at sunrise we're 
going to be out there on the beach with some flowers 
tied with a ribbon, all from my bouquet. We'll toss 
it into the sea as it goes out, for my father.

Then during the coming week we will put more of those 
flowers on Melissa's grave and, when we can, go to 
the graves of Mulder's parents and sister.

I can smell the beach and look forward to the 
romantic walks planned - starting tomorrow.

I unlock the condo's front door and hold it while 
Mulder takes the luggage in. Then when he carries the 
last in, I am about to follow, but before I can he 
quickly puts down the bags then darts out and scoops 
me up. Somehow managing to keep the door open, he 
swings us around and proceeds to carry me over the 
threshold. I laugh and let him.

After a nice long kiss he reluctantly and carefully 
lets me go, because he knows I want to change into 
something 'more comfortable and special' for our 
festivities tonight. So I give him a gift-wrapped 
package and tell him to put any of the picnic food 
and our groceries into the fridge, then to open my 
gift and meet me in the bedroom within fifteen 
minutes. I grab one of my bags and disappear into the 
bathroom.

When I come out, he's lying on the bed by lamplight, 
wearing the contents of the parcel - white silk boxer 
shorts. His hair is sexily and adorably mussed. 
Heaven.

And I am wearing white silk too. A lovely little 
nightgown with beautiful lace details (not that my 
husband would be noticing them at the moment) and 
ribbon-work, including the straps.

His gaze nearly engulfs me. "Is this my birthday 
present? Then I got exactly what I wished for!"

I join him on the bed, and he sets about undoing the 
ribbons on his gift.

xXx

The man knows how to unwrap a present!

Afterwards, we are in each other's arms when I 
finally get enough breath and energy back to tell my 
husband some news. "When I was getting changed, I 
noticed in the mirror that the baby is 'out' more. 
Have a look."

He checks out the change to my lower torso with 
fascination, but can't help commenting in a teasing 
tone, "Out more? Is that a scientific or medical 
term?"

Before I can give him a look or take action, he says, 
"Yeah, definitely more noticeable now. Before we had 
to look really carefully. I guess this is her or his 
wedding present to us." He plants a few kisses down 
there.

"And next week is my next doctor's appointment. This 
time it's the sonogram, so you'll get to see the baby 
live instead of as a photo."

"Maybe we'll get a wave!"

I let loose a little gasp.

"What's wrong?" Mulder asks, instantly worried.

"No - I think . . . I think I just felt the baby move 
for the first time." I stare at him in amazement. 
"Mom said that it feels like butterfly wings flitting 
across glass. It's hard to describe, but I think 
that's it!" We beam at each other.

Mulder hugs me. "I love you," I whisper into his 
shoulder. 

"I seem to be pretty damn fond of you too," he 
replies with a chuckle.

I lift my head enough to trot out The Look.

"I love, adore and worship you," he amends with a 
grin. 

"That's better."

Mulder covers us with the blankets. He turns off the 
lamp, and we settle into each other's arms in the 
moonlight, tired but very happy.

"I'm glad that's over," Mulder admits sleepily. "The 
planning and setting up, I mean," he adds hastily 
when he hears how it comes out.

"I understand completely." But then I smile wickedly. 
"So this isn't a good time to tell you that the next 
project looming is decorating the nursery?"

His eyes pop open. He raises his head and gives me a 
look, while grabbing hold of his pillow with one 
hand.

"I'm carrying your progeny," I quickly point out, 
claiming my exemption from pillow fights.

"The minute that 'get out of jail free' excuse 
expires, look out."

"You mean that as soon as I've popped the kid out in 
the delivery room, you're going to clout me with a 
pillow? That's going to be seen by the med staff as a 
very interesting reaction and form of gratitude!"

His eyes sparkle at me. "You are a wicked, wicked 
woman."

"And I'm all yours."

He runs a hand over some of his territory, before 
contentedly closing his eyes again and snuggling 
close. There will be time for more fun in the 
morning.

END