TITLE: "The Night After the New Millennium" BY: Ten E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au CATEGORY: V; after-effects of MT; MSR; H; a smidgen o'angst RATING: R for consensual sexual situations SUMMARY: When we last left our intrepid and recently married duo at Maggie's, they had been invited to stay the night, despite Bill's displeasure. Can Mulder survive until morning, and will his fate be at the hands of Bill or Dana? TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: "Millennium", "Biogenesis Trilogy" and "Fire". Part of Vickie's and my "New Millennium" series. This is the fourth in the series and comes after "Entering the New Millennium". We're tossing the baton back and forth. Hey, Vickie, how come I always end up with the bedroom scenes? ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer stay intact. FEEDBACK: Love it. Brings joy to my world! THANKS TO: Vickie, Debbie, Sally, Macspooky and Gerry. (Hmmm, all those names ending with the 'y' sound make for good editors!) The stories in this series are available at my website: http://tenxffic.iwarp.com Click on the "New Millennium" banner 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 recognised from the show are Vickie's or mine. The X-Files: "The Night After the New Millennium" (1/2) By Ten, February 22nd - March 13th, 2000 xXx January 2nd 2000 Maggie Scully's residence nearing 1:00 am I'll be glad when Mulder's arm is healed. That injury gets in the way. For tonight, he's taken the sling off; however, he still has to keep that limb fairly immobile. But it is only temporary and we are resourceful. At the moment we're in bed - or 'beds' to be strictly accurate, my old bed and Melissa's pushed together so we can lie together - and I'm on his left side so that there's less chance of me jostling his arm. I'm leaning over him so that we can touch and kiss. I love kissing him. I love being able to touch him and tell him that I love him. Our tongues caress for a while, then clash passionately. I explore his face with my fingers, then follow with my mouth. I keep coming back to his lips, then breaking away to explore. We don't have the lights on, but there is light from a streetlamp coming in through the window, so we can see well enough. Besides, I'm glowing. Stick some electrodes on my erogenous zones and I'm sure I could power Vegas with minimal fuss. Earlier on, when we arrived at Mom's and we'd finished chatting about the day's rather miraculous start, she wanted to heat something up for us, but I told her we already ate on the road. The main thing on the menu was devouring each other. Now Mulder tries to reach for me, then winces. I guess more than one thing is starting to throb. He pouts. "Damn, this is even more frustrating than not being able to move when I was catatonic..." I give him a look for daring to downplay how serious that situation was. "When I was catatonic, I wasn't chock full of raging hormones," he elaborates, and gives me a 'now do you get my drift' look. "That is a point." Indeed, one IS forming quite nicely. "But it's not like we can't do something about it now." "Like?" He drags the word out. "This..." Soon we're ready for the next level, but Mulder halts me. "Dana..." He's panting. "Yes, Fox?" I think he's going to query whether or not we should be doing this in my mother's house. However, his eyes aren't hesitant. They're incandescent. Hungry. "Which one - which one was your bed?" I stare at him, then realise. My grin matches his. We're sort of lying across both beds at the moment. I point at the bed on the right. My childhood bed. "Then I want you in that bed." If I wasn't completely ready before he said that in THAT tone, then I certainly am now. We shift around so that we're completely on my old bed. Then we set to it. Just over twenty-four hours ago, at midnight, Fox Mulder kissed me for the first time, a gentle, chaste kiss. Now a whole day has passed and I'm married to him and we're doing more than kissing. This feels so good. My husband's good hand is sliding up and down my thigh, his ring, my father's ring, gleaming. I look down at Mulder as I move and moan. The headboard thuds into the wall. I was a child and now I'm a woman and none of my fantasies, none of them... We're picking up the pace and the noise level. This is quite a point we're making. The headboard is not the only thing thudding. There's a banging on the wall. Bill. His room is next door. "Fluff the duck UP!" he roars, well, as near to roars as someone who has been drinking can get. Or perhaps I can't hear properly over all that's going on. Up. I ignore him and lock eyes with my husband and the pounding is now the blood in my ears and his heart under my hand as we race towards our invisible finish line. We breast the tape. Mulder arches up with a strangled cry and at the same time I feel like I'm being catapulted into the air with the force of my orgasm. Whoo boy. That one would have won gold in the sexual Olympics. He lies there and I sit there, minds reeling in orbit. I'm trying not to let my body collapse on his arm again. My lungs fill and empty. My heart is full. The banging starts again. This time it's on the bedroom door. Thank God I locked it. "Stop th't!" The noise must have sobered Bill up a little, but he's still slurring. "You bassard! Stop screwin' my shisster, ri' now!" "I think I have," Mulder murmurs, still plastered to the mattress, trapped under my weight. I reach out a trembling hand to his head and brush his damp hair back. He cocks an eyebrow at me and pants, "Think we should show him who's actually on top?" Bill bangs louder. "Go away!" I call. If Mulder hadn't made me so mellow and satisfied, I'd grab my weapon and go shut my brother up permanently. Whoops. Got to stop that - thoughts like that almost got me in real trouble when Mulder could read minds... Bill keeps pounding on the door. "Y' surry son of an itch!" "Hardly..." Mulder snorts. "That Mulder's permanently retired." I wonder if his smugness will change if Bill manages to break the door down? "Bill Scully Junior!" Thank God Mom's on the case. I hear her marching down the hallway from her bedroom. Want to borrow my gun, Mom? "Bu', Mom," he whines. I half-expect to hear him say 'Dana's not supposed to have boys in her room' and stamp his foot. Mom's voice is imperious. "Leave them alone! Your sister is over twenty-one. And it IS her *wedding night*." Desperation appears to clear his head and tongue a little. "But is it? She said they got married ju' like that after he made up his mind yesherday! They can't have gotten hished that quick! It's not possible..." He's almost begging. "Bill, there are places in this country, like Connecticut, where no blood tests or waiting period are necessary. Seven years was enough to wait. And even though it wasn't a church wedding, or even if they WEREN'T married, their love is certainly legal enough for me. Now if you don't want to stay in the next room, take some pillows and blankets and you can sleep downstairs on the sofa. I think that would be best for everyone." "Mom -" "GO! And if you feel like you're going to lose those beers, then take a bucket from the laundry with you!" My brother drags his feet down the hall. I hear him thumping down the stairs. I hear my mother sigh and then laugh, then she heads for her room. "Goodnight all..." Crisis over, Mulder and I are soon lying in 'our' hold. Him on his back, me on my left side, pressed up against him, arm around his waist. "Nice bed, Scully," Mulder remarks with studied casualness. "I don't think it ever expected to be put through those paces. Oh my God..." "What?" "I just remembered something. Something that Melissa told me when she was fifteen. One night she just turned to me when we were in here and said, 'Dana, you're going to have your wedding night in that bed and he's going to be one-armed.' I'm serious! Well, I certainly didn't think she was serious at the time. I thought she was just teasing me." "Well, I'm sure she's smiling on us now." "And what a sight we must make!" I miss Melissa. I'm just glad that Mulder got to meet her, that she recognised who my soulmate was long before I did. Suddenly for a moment I feel a warmth envelop me, which I'm sure has nothing to do with lying with my husband or what we just did. Then it is gone. I smile. Then I press a kiss to Mulder's forehead. "Go to sleep, husband. I want you refreshed in the morning." "Yes, ma'am." A few minutes later, like any normal husband who has just gotten some, he is asleep. I smile, make sure we're covered, and snuggle against his good shoulder. xXx I am still lying here, watching Mulder sleep. It's not dawn yet, but it really is the dawn of a new age. I feel a sense of wonder, but also I am learning to think more as his lover and not as his partner. Perhaps I went a little too far that way last night, when Mulder and I were heading up to my old room to sleep. Bill called Mulder into the living room for a little chat. Mulder sent me upstairs. He insisted that he would be okay without backup close at hand. When he came up about five minutes later, I didn't even check to make sure he was unscathed - I was too busy figuring out how to get the damn nightstand out of the way so we could push the beds together. Hmmm. Oh well, I'm adapting. I'll strike a more even balance before our honeymoon is over. I wonder if I should ask Mulder just what Bill had to say. Perhaps I will, sometime today. Not this morning though. Mulder stirs and shifts further into my warmth, even though I am as closely pressed to him as I can manage. I lean over and blow air gently in his ear. He opens his eyes and turns his head fully towards me. He smiles. I lean over more and kiss him. "Welcome to the first morning of the rest of our life together," I say. Technically I may be a few hours early, but who cares? His smile deepens. We just watch each other across the small distance of pillow. Mulder says, "I love being able to be with you like this. And I don't just mean as in naked or making love, but just to be able to hold. I can't wait until I can hold you properly." "It won't be long. And you're a fast healer." "Added incentive now..." Mulder tells me that last night Bill was staring at him in the kitchen like they were tigers over a suffering wildebeest. "This wildebeest isn't suffering at all," I remark, stretching languidly, deliberately letting the blankets ride down. Way down, with the help of a push. Mulder's eyes trace down my body, lingering appreciatively in a few places. "I think she's morphed into a tigress. Not that she wasn't already." I roll over and suck on the top of his left shoulder. Sounds bizarre, but it allows me to watch his face and various reactions at the same time. I bite lightly. "Wanna fool around?" He gives me a lofty look. "Scully, I refuse to take advantage of you in your mother's house." "Fine, then I'll take advantage of you. I'm not the one in the sling!" And I proceed to, well, 'rock the house'. Mmmmm. I've seen Mulder flat on his back many a time in the hospital or in sleep, but NEVER has he looked so good to me as he does now. I love this, but I hope Mulder's arm does heal soon so we can try other positions too, otherwise I'm going to get severe knee and thigh burn from all this friction. Ah well, if that's the price that has to be paid... And there's the payoff... xXx Again, I am not startled to wake up and find Mulder beside me. It is too right to feel strange or a mistake. I ease away from him gently. I want to check the time on my watch. I hope it's not any later than seven o'cock, er, o'CLOCK yet. Geez, do I have it bad. Well, I had it very GOOD before, but I'd better not try for anymore just yet, because we have to get ready for 8:30 Mass. Good. There's time. We didn't get a full night's sleep, but can make up for that tonight. Or maybe not... I grin. Anyway, we'd better get up - in the normal manner of speaking, mind you, not the hot honeymooner vernacular. Besides, we're not as young as we used to be. He has to have some recovery time. I manage to get into the wardrobe, or one side of it at least (because the nightstand is slightly in the way), and locate an old bathrobe. I put it on, deciding to let Mulder sleep for a few more minutes while I go downstairs and get our things out of the car (or ask Mom to) so we can change clothes. We didn't have much, but when we were coming back from Connecticut I did buy us a few things, so at least we have more underwear. I give him a look as I unlock the bedroom door. That man is mine. Those marks on him aren't only from zombie teeth and nails. I open the door and find that the bags from the department store have been placed just outside our room. I blink. We did leave the car keys downstairs on the kitchen counter last night, so did Mom fetch the bags for us this morning, or is Bill giving us a subtle hint to get the hell out of the house? And, if the latter, did he sneak a peek in a bag and see the decisively devilish and non-Catholic schoolgirl lingerie that his baby sister had purchased? I take the bags into our room, then go downstairs, still in my robe, to see if anyone else is up. I'm not surprised when I enter the kitchen to find Mom reading the paper, already showered and dressed. "Hello, dear, I was just about to come up and knock. Did you see your bags?" She gets up and hugs me, and we stand there for a long moment, brought closer by the changes of New Year's Day. Mulder and I, in finally making ourselves happy, have made her happy beyond measure too. But... "Has Bill surfaced yet?" Mom rolls her eyes. "No. He's still in the living room, more the worse for wear. He won't be accompanying us to church. Anyway, what do you and Fox want for breakfast?" A few minutes later I leave her happily cooking for her expanded brood while I go upstairs. I have a quick shower, get dressed, then lean over my husband and stroke his face. "Mulder. Mulder? Come on, time for your spongebath." His eyes open. "Now that'll get you up of a morning!" Glee pours through his words, temporarily banishing his sleepiness. I pull him into a sitting position. He blinks, still not fully awake. "Come on, stud, we're on a deadline. I've got your bath drawn and I've got the breadwrapper." This really gets his attention. "Breadwrapper? I've seen a lot of things on a lot of videos, Scully, but I think you're going to have to enlighten me on that one." "As cover to protect your stitches if we accidentally get your arm wet," I explain patiently. He usually uses Saran wrap at home, I think. "Now get UP!" "Geez, you've already had two sessions. Cut me a break..." But he stands and with guidance stumbles to the bathroom closest to our bedroom. Soon he is ensconced in the bath and breadwrapper-wrapped and I'm rubbing his back with a sponge. He murmurs, "I'm dead and I'm in heaven." "I don't think they have breadwrap or injuries in heaven." I'm keeping an eye on the time. I'm trying to be expedient, but not 'swipe and run'. "Lie back - I'll do your front." He obeys with a contented sigh. Then as I'm working my way downwards, I make an interesting discovery. "My constant," I remark, raising my eyebrows. Mulder looks sheepish and surprised. "I am having a good run." "Or raise. I'll take it for a marathon session when we're back home." Whichever apartment we decide on for the day, anyway. "Okay, I can wait until after breakfast for dessert." "After church, you mean." Mulder's eyes pop open. He remembers. "Mass. Oh. Okay." He tries to cover his dwindled enthusiasm, but on both fronts it is hard to hide. One problem solved, anyway. "We'd better hurry up then." "Still some time. When Mom and Dad bought this place, they made sure it was close to a church." He nods, trying to look interested. "Um, Scully...about what they're - I mean, Father McCue - about what he's going to do today..." I wait him out as he stumbles. I don't want to second-guess him and interrupt and be wrong. I really want to hear what he wants to say. IF he can find the right words to convey it in. I keep my expression as encouraging as I can manage. "Um... Is it just going to be the blessing?" The words tumble out of him in a rush. "Yes, Mulder. For today, just the blessing of our rings. That's all. We'll tell Mom and Father McCue that we'll consider the other options over the next few weeks. Whatever we decide to do, we couldn't rush in and do it today anyway." "Good. I mean, I don't mean to sound..." He sighs, looking embarrassed. "I know it's important to you..." "I think the blessing will be enough for a start," I say. "If you do want a church wedding with a Mass and everything, we can. We got married 'my way' and you didn't get a chance to do the dress or planning thing, so we can do this next one whatever way you want, I swear." "Mulder, that's something we can talk about this week. We'll decide, then tell Mom and Father McCue. It will be our decision - you and I - not just what the church considers proper. I know you're not all that comfortable, that this isn't your faith, so let's not worry about it today. I'll go over some options and ideas with you later. Besides, we may not want the entire Bureau to know about us just yet. Since we're not the most conventional couple, perhaps we can have a compromise wedding at the reception, where we don't have to go through the entire hour of Mass. I do like the idea of something simple, where we actually know when we're declared man and wife." Mulder gives me a look that says, 'How can you be so understanding when I'm not even sure what I was trying to say?' 'Practice,' I send back at him. I'm sure God gave us this silent communication because He knew that without it we wouldn't get around to saying anything out loud until too late. We need time to go over the changes that our lives will undergo. Sitting Mulder through fifty-five minutes of Mass today will be enough for a start. I certainly don't want to force him into attending every week. I like it when he escorts me to church when we're on a case and sits outside and waits for me. That gesture means as much to me as if he was sitting beside me. It's his way of doing so and suits both of us. Just like how I may not believe in a lot of the paranormal (the years and what I saw on the beach in Africa have bluntened those assured edges somewhat), but I still stand beside him in his work and quest. Support and understanding, even if we don't see everything in the same way. I help him dry off, then to get into his clothes and sling. I wonder how he managed before, all those times he was recovering from injuries on his own. Mulder smiles at me. He seems highly amused. "What?" I ask. "I didn't get a chance to mention this before, but I find your taste in underwear intriguing." He's referring to the black silk boxers that I bought him yesterday - I was lucky to find a store open on New Year's Day. I bought a three pack. "I just liked seeing you in them." "Long memory, because I haven't worn black silk since the Cecil Lively case." "You really put on a show, I remember," I reply dryly. "Black tux, canopy bed and all." And not for my benefit either. He looks off at some unseen horizon, and the look isn't entirely happy. "I remember what I was thinking at the time: I want Scully, but I deserve Phoebe." "Oh, Mulder..." I say quietly. Then he changes the subject. "And what about these jeans you bought me?" "What about them? They fit. I know your size." "I'm impressed that you brought ones that are REALLY snug around the ass." "I can look openly now, Mulder, as well as touch. I have a ring to say so. And I intend to make the most of it." I give him a sound pat on that tight ass of his, then run my hand possessively over the denim. He grins even wider. "And that black bra and panty set you bought..." Ah yes, the ones that had two strips of material crossing each breast to form an X. "Talk about X marking the spot!" "You said you had a dream about me in underwear like that, in the office." "I wasn't asleep in the office when I had it. Though I made sure I kept replaying it." "You know what I mean. What was I doing in this dream?" "Scully, I don't think now is a good time." I fold my arms and wait. He holds up one hand in surrender. "Okay, in brief, you were sitting there at your desk, typing, wearing that, then you took off your glasses and did this Xena flip-and-leap combo through the air to land on top of my desk. You looked down at me and told me to get up there. I did. In several interpretations of the phrase." Well now... "Breakfast's ready!" I'm sure that's not the first time that Mom's called out to us. I tell my hormones to cool it and steer my husband downstairs. "If we eat fast, we won't be late..." I hope. "I missed the Rose Bowl," Mulder says as we enter the kitchen and he sees the front page of the paper. I raise myself up to his ear. "You were doing plenty of scoring yourself," I murmur. "Yeah, but they won't show the highlights of THAT on ESPN!" He drops the leer when he remembers that Mom is in the room. "Sleep well?" she asks, keeping a straight face. Mulder manages one of his own. "Slept like a log." We certainly did, between sessions. "Who could sleep?" Bill grouses, appearing in the doorway, then stumbling to hunch at the kitchen table, holding his head, darting an angry look at Mulder. Mulder calmly ignores him. I have no sympathy for my brother. His attitude towards Mulder, towards my choice of husband, hurts me, but I'm not going to let that blight things. I wonder if Bill is so sick because of the beers or because of what he heard last night? Because he knows that the mover and shaker last night was me, not Mulder. Yes, Bill. Little sister is a firebrand and the man currently at the sink is her match. At least Bill isn't keeping up a running glare at Mulder. Raising his head high enough to lock gazes must send the drum in his head pounding even more loudly. Good. Serves him right. "What are you going to do this afternoon?" Mom asks, pouring coffee. I reply, "We have to contact Skinner," though perhaps not tell him about our new status just yet. After all, he has us on mandatory leave after the zombie shootings - or whatever they were. We can honeymoon around our counselling sessions, as Mulder wisecracked while he was in the bath. "And go shopping for a ring." And try out my bed. "Phone some relatives to give the good news." Bill groans loudly. We all ignore him. Too bad he has today to recover, otherwise he would have cut a fine figure while out on his naval business. Soon Mom, Mulder and I are heading out the door to Mass. Mulder doesn't look reluctant or resigned, which makes me love him all the more. I tug on his sleeve to hold him back a moment, out of Mom's earshot. "Mulder, if you want something to think about during Mass, think about the fact that I'm wearing rather daringly cut teal blue panties and a matching bra, and also think that what's in them is all yours once we get home." I start to wonder whether giving him this info is such a good idea. He's getting that bedroom eyes look again. "But don't think too HARD, okay? I have to be able to go back to that church again and look Father McCue in the eye." "I wonder how much of the congregation could concentrate if they knew THAT little detail!" He grins and puts his arm around me. "Come on, wife. Let's go get blessed." If we can be blessed any more than we already are, of course. But, with us, it's good to have all the backup we can get. THE END "Hey, Vickie, catch!" AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was nearly called "Searching for a Title in the New Millennium". Asking friends (i.e. the beta readers) for inspiration produced lots of suggestions, including: "Night of the Living Millennium", "The Millennium That Ate Chicago", "More Sex Please, We're Married", "A Hard Time in the New Millennium", "What Goes Up, Must Come In, Ah, Down", "Breaking the Drought in the New Millennium" or "I Thought Ten Was A Nice Country Girl But Apparently She Reads Too Much NC-17". Gerry and Sally... Just wait until you want me to beta for YOU two! LOL.