Yes, I know there are wedding stories out there. I know, because
I've read all of them and each one is better than the last (even when
I reread them in a different order :) But hey, I'm couch bound for a
while and I decided to write ANOTHER wedding story. BUT, it
has a few twists and turns and actually is meant to reveal more of
the real story behind William Mulder's strange behavior. So, if you
don't read it, you'll never know, now will you? HAH! This is a
part of the series which started with Every Mother Dreams, and
continued with Homeward Bound. It's in an alternate universe, of
course, but one that is very, very close to our own. Some third
season stuff involved, so be warned. Marital relations discussed but
not described (although that pesky Telecommunitications Bill did
make me consider getting really racy in this, I didn't want to leave
my newborn son while I sat a few hours in a jail cell >:)
Rating: PG-13
Story type: MSR--married
Timeline--concurrent with the show, sort of.
NOTE: It would help if you read Every Mother Dreams and
Homeward Bound which have been posted on Extreme Possibilities
and will eventually be found on the archives, I hope.

Disclaimer: Yeah, right, I know, the boring part. Hey, I don't own
these people, but can ideas be considered property? (NO!) Only if
I try to make money off them, and I'm not, so there. However,
Father Grant is fashioned off a good friend of mine, and so you
can't use him, either, unless you ask real nice.

TO BOLDLY GO
(not a crossover)
by Vickie Moseley

Arlington, VA
March 30, 1996
6:55 am

It felt wonderful to run. Scully had kept him on a short leash for
most of the week. He felt like he'd slept enough for a month
already. It was time to get out and run.
Mulder almost had second thoughts as he crawled out of bed an
hour before. Dana was still sleeping soundly, her hair splayed out
on her pillow, a faint smile on her lips. He thought about staying
there and waking her up just to cuddle. But she had been up late
the night before, finalizing arrangements for their 'big day', so she
needed the rest. He had kissed her softly and quietly dressed in his
running clothes.
It didn't really look like a day any different from any other. It
was rather gray, but warm, not that unusual for late March in the
Washington Metro Area. Most of the trees were budding and he
noticed that soon the azaleas would be in bloom. With any luck,
the cherry trees around the Tidal Basin would cooperate for the
Cherry Blossom Festival this year. For the last two years, late
frosts had caused major disappointments to the District Visitor's
Bureau. But for all outward appearances, it was a normal Saturday
in the Capitol.
On any other Saturday after his morning run, he would have
gone home, showered and headed into the office. There were
always files to read up on, journal articles to review, reports to
write. It was quiet on Saturday and he managed to get a lot of
work done, as much as he hated paperwork. But not today. Scully
would kill him if he even suggested it. He had other things to
attend to. And first on that list was getting married.
<I should have proposed at Christmas,> he thought as he paused
at a red light. He wasn't pleased that they were getting married so
quickly, in such a rush. The baby was the reason, and that couldn't
be avoided. It wasn't that he was upset at the prospects of
marriage. He had wanted to marry Dana Scully for a long time. He
had dreamed of it, late at night, in those times when he allowed
himself the luxury of dreams of a normal life. He couldn't imagine
marrying any one else. She was everything to him. And since
Christmas, he felt married to her. But at the same time, he
regretted that she would never have a big full blown wedding.
She had dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand and a
laugh. "I've been to plenty of big weddings, Mulder. None of them
are ever as wonderful as the bride wishes they were. The caterers
are late, the food is cold, the priest says the wrong readings. It's all
too much anxiety for one person. And a big wedding is no
indication of a good marriage. Some of the largest, most elaborate
weddings I've been to have ended in disaster after six months. I'm
more than happy to avoid the headaches and just have a nice simple
ceremony for the two of us."
At the time, she had sounded very convincing. But he couldn't
help but wonder if some day she might regret not having had the
chance to go all out. <I'll make it up to her,> he vowed as he
neared the apartment building and slowed to a walk to cool off.
<One day, we'll renew our vows and I'll give her the wedding she
should have had.>
He walked up and down the street a couple of times, letting the
sweat pour down his face and back and letting the slight chill in the
air cool him off. He glanced up at his window. There was no way
he was going to get sentimental about leaving this apartment. He
couldn't count the number of times he had stuck tape on that
window. Or how many panes of glass he had to replace. Not to
mention the doorjamb, the lock, the faucet <who would think that
LSD derivatives would corrode plumbing?>, and the screw that
held the radiator grate in place. If he had his way, he'd just up and
move over to Dana's tonight and never look back. Maybe the
MIBs would come and set fire to the place and he wouldn't have to
go through the hardship of packing.
<Dumb thought,> he chided himself. <They'd blow up the
building, killing everyone in it and you'd have to hunt them down.>
Maybe he could just let it out as a 'furnished sublet' instead. The
wind was getting stronger and he was getting cold, so he headed
inside.
The smell of coffee greeted him as he opened the door to his
apartment. The one thing that he had never considered was how
wonderful it was to have another set of hands in the kitchen. Some
days he made the coffee, but if a pot wasn't ready by the time she
got up, Dana made the coffee. And bagels. Or pancakes. Or when
she really wanted to show him how much she loved him, eggs.
"Have a good run?" came the call from the kitchen. He could
hear the sound of eggshells cracking against a skillet. He smiled.
"The best. It's beautiful today," he answered as he came up
behind her and kissed her neck and shoulders. She was still dressed
in one of his old academy tee shirts, and socks and looked
incredibly sexy.
"Gee, it seemed kind of cloudy when I looked out the window,"
she said, moving her head to the side so he could kiss behind her
ear. She would not moan, she kept telling herself. That only
encouraged him and they had too much to do. But then, it was
awfully early. . .
"I'm jumping in the shower," he whispered in her ear.
"I'll have breakfast ready soon, so hurry," she replied.
He frowned. He had meant that as an invitation. But then,
there would be plenty of time later this afternoon, tonight,
tomorrow, Monday. . .technically speaking, they did have the rest
of their lives. <Hit the showers,> he reminded himself.
Dana smiled after him. He was like a little kid sometimes. But
then, it was that innocence that she had first come to love. No
matter how much horror he had seen in his life, how many killers he
had let crawl into his mind, he was still basically childlike in his
approach to the world. He was open and honest and just waiting
for each new experience.
She scooped up the eggs and put both plates in the oven to keep
warm. The toast was done, and she buttered it with a flourish.
<This isn't exactly how I thought I'd be spending the first hours of
my wedding day,> she grinned to herself.
Ever since she was a little girl, Dana had wondered about her
wedding. Unlike Melissa, who had her own wedding planned down
to the flowers the groomsmen would wear on their tuxes, Dana had
never planned, she just wondered. It hurt a little to think that Missy
wouldn't be there when she exchanged her vows. She had always
figured Missy would be her maid of honor. But if Fox had been
right about his dream, there was a good possibility that Missy
would be there, after all. That thought eased the pain just a bit.
Mulder entered the kitchen and all thought of Missy flew out the
window. <God, he's sexy when he's just out of the shower,> she
thought, reaching down in to the oven to retrieve the plates and
hide her own blush.
He reached over and kissed her. "This must be a special day.
You made me eggs," he grinned devilishly.
"Well, you've been a good boy lately," she teased. "You haven't
complained about your diet once all week. I figured you deserved a
reward. Besides, you'll need the protein for later." Her smile was
positively wicked.
"You know, locker room logic says that sex tends to slow down
'after' the wedding," he pointed out, grabbing a slice of toast and
adding more butter.
"Oh, and is that the same logic that says it's perfectly all right to
cheat on your wife as long as it's not with someone she knows," she
inquired, an eyebrow lifted for effect.
"You heard that one, too," he asked, trying to hide his delight.
"Well, we'll just see, Fox Mulder. I happen to know a couple
who put a down payment on their house with their newlywed
money."
He chewed, swallowed and regarded her seriously, trying to
determine if she were still teasing. "OK, I give. What's 'newlywed
money'?"
Again with the grin. "It's money that you put in the cookie jar
every time you make love in the first year of marriage. Most people
use a dollar at a time." She took another bite of eggs and looked
very satisfied with herself.
He gulped. "How big was the house?" he asked, wide eyed.
"Oh, three bedrooms, two baths,. . .in Falls Church," she replied.
His smile now reached from ear to ear. "Falls Church? High
rent district!" He finished his toast. "I say, let's go for it! I know I
have a dollar here somewhere. . ."
She laughed out loud. "Save it for later. I have to get over to
my place to meet mom. And your mother should be here soon, too.
We should get to the church by 9:45, so we don't have a lot of time,
anyway. You still have the rings, don't you?"
"Inside left pocket of my blue suit. I'm not letting Byers get
hold of them until the last possible moment. The man would lose
lint in his navel."
"So why didn't you ask Frohike or Langly to be your best man?"
Dana had wondered about that for a while.
"Byers looks better in a suit," came the reply as he picked up the
dishes and put them in the sink. "Besides, Frohike is likely to be a
little, eh, 'emotional' today. Since the only proof we're going to
have of this wedding is the marriage certificate and a few pictures, I
didn't want to spoil the little evidence we'd have."
She laughed and ruffled his hair. "We'll have more than that,
I'm sure." With a kiss full of promise, she left him to pack.

Dana was anxious to get to her apartment. She had a thousand
things to do and only an hour and a half to do them. Somehow,
getting married had seemed so simple when they discussed it over
dinner earlier in the week. Now, with so little time, she was getting
panic stricken.
At least she felt comfortable in their choice of priests. She'd
known Father Tim since he was just plain Tim, the tall, too thin,
quiet kid with a goofy smile who used to end up eating dinner at the
Scully house more evenings than not. Tim was happy to perform
the ceremony, minus the full Mass. She didn't think Mulder would
survive a full Mass. That was asking too much of any agnostic,
even one who was very much in love.
But without the worry of a full Mass and a slew of attendants, a
big reception and hundreds of guests, there were still so many little
details. She knew the wedding had been rather hastily thrown
together, but she still wanted it to be nice. She planned on it being
the only wedding she would ever have, and she wanted to do it
right.
Still, it felt like she was really only going through the motions.
She had committed herself to her partner, her soon to be husband,
long ago. Christmas night had been her wedding, the first time they
allowed themselves to come together, share each other physically,
as they had long shared each other mentally. They had sworn their
love before God, the universe, and each other that night, at least
she had. It was as much of a wedding as she thought was necessary
at the time.
But Fox Mulder, as her mother had pointed out, was an
honorable man. And he would never tolerate them 'living together'
indefinitely without the legal acknowledgment. And he would also
never consider bringing a child into the world without a formal
commitment. It was something she loved about him. No matter
how much he fought the conventional wisdom, he saw the need for
some rules to society and was willing to make them his own.
His view of society was easy, his relationship with his family,
another matter altogether. If only she could mend the tear between
himself and his own mother as easily as she was building a life with
him.

He hadn't said much since they had come back from his mom's
house. The only time he even mentioned his family was when the
package arrived containing her engagement ring, handed down
from his paternal grandmother and some old letters. He had been
quiet and withdrawn all evening after reading the letters, had come
to bed after midnight and had just held her tightly all night long.
She wished he would open up and tell her what was bothering him.
It hurt her to see him in so much torment over some dusty old
letters. Maybe, in the weeks ahead, she could get him to talk about
it with her. She was getting pretty good at getting him to open up.
Maggie Scully's car was already outside her apartment as Dana
drove up. She hurried inside, hoping she hadn't kept her mother
waiting too long. She suspected she was already in for a short
lecture on why they should have at least _tried_ to stay in their
respective bedrooms on the eve of their wedding. But Maggie was
much too occupied with other things to give out any lectures this
morning.
"I picked up the clothes from the cleaners for you, and folded
that load of laundry that was sitting in the basket in your room. Oh,
and here's the key to Uncle Fred's cabin. Sweetheart, you know I
wanted to get you a room at a really nice hotel for the weekend,
one with room service and everything. Are you sure you want to
go 'camping' on your honeymoon?" Maggie asked, still concerned
that they might regret their choice of 'getaways'.
"Mom, we spend so much work time in hotels and motels, it
would feel like we're on a case! Besides, Uncle Fred's cabin is
hardly camping. It's more like a resort. Camping means outdoor
toilets and no electricity. That hardly describes Uncle Fred's," Dana
replied as she threw the folded laundry into a suitcase. "Now,
where did he put my travel bag when we got back from
Massachusetts?" she mumbled and started rummaging through the
bathroom closet until she retrieved the small bag of toiletries.
Maggie leaned against the bedroom doorjamb and watched her
daughter with an amused expression on her face. Dana looked up
from her frantic activities and frowned. "What, mom?"
"Well, I was just thinking that I had always dreaded your
wedding day because I felt we'd have to discuss birth control,"
Maggie admitted with a mischievious grin.
Dana smiled ruefully and shook her head. "Too late, mom. But
if you have a speech planned, let me have in about 25 years, OK?
I'll put it to good use with our daughter," she joked in return.
"I still can't understand why you were in such a hurry to find out
what the sex is. I always liked the surprise," Maggie countered,
shaking her own head.
Dana didn't really want to worry her mother with the real
reasons for all the prenatal tests. "Mulder was so positive he knew,
I just wanted to show him up," she answered.
"And was Fox right or wrong?" Maggie asked.
Dana got that smile on her face again. "Oh, he was right. Now,
I'm making him tell me how big she'll be. Sex is easy, 50-50
chance. Guessing a baby's size and weight at birth, that takes real
skill," she laughed and Maggie laughed with her.
"I'm betting he'll be very close, if not right on the money,"
Maggie said and helped her zip the bag closed. "OK, what next?
Where's the dog food so I can at least keep that little mongrel fed
while you're gone?"

With his shower out of the way, Mulder was busy packing his
own suitcase when there was a knock on the door. He still hadn't
changed, he was wearing the sweatpants and tee shirt he had pulled
on before going in the kitchen for breakfast. He answered the door,
half expecting the Lone Gunmen trio. Instead, it was his mother.
"Fox, I certainly hope you have something more appropriate in
mind to wear to the wedding! I know it's a casual affair, but really.
. ." Ann Mulder berated her son, but there was a slight gleam to her
eye. Mulder caught it immediately. The ice in his heart melted just
a little.
"Funny, mom. Real funny. Come on in," he said and headed
back to his packing. "I'm just getting my stuff packed so I can take
the luggage to the church. We'll be leaving after lunch and I don't
want to have to come all the way back here to pick anything up," he
explained.
Ann took the opportunity to survey her son's apartment. She
had been there only once, when he had just moved in. It was
smaller than she would have liked, but he was by himself and in
many ways, it looked like his room had when he was in high school.
As she glanced around the kitchen, she noted the two plates, silver
and two coffee cups in the drainer. "So, Dana's at her apartment
this morning?" she asked.
He stopped dead in his tracks. <Geez, mom, I'm 34. Lighten
up. We're getting married, for Pete's sakes,> he fumed. "Yeah, she
had to pack, too. And she was meeting Maggie over there," he said
instead.
"That's nice," his mother remarked and he shook his head. He
really didn't want to deal with this right now. "Did she like the
ring?" Ann asked from the living room.
<Bet she's checking my e-mail,> he mused. "Yeah, she loved it.
Saved me a lot of cash, mom," he called out. He carried the bag
out to the living room and set it by the door, then turned to face
her. His face was pure mischief.
"Funny, Fox. Very funny," she countered with a grin.
"No, really, she did love it. Thanks for thinking of it," he said
more seriously.
"Did you get a chance to read the letters from your father?"
Ann was good at interrogating a witness.
"A couple of them," he replied tersely. "Look, mom, I know
what you were trying to do. And yeah, it's nice to know that I was
once his 'buddy'. But it doesn't make up for what he did. And it
sure as hell doesn't qualify him for any Father of the Year awards.
So let's just drop it, OK?"
"I am not about to sit here and defend the actions of Bill
Mulder," Ann retorted angrily. "But I think you need to come to
terms with a few things. He was your father, Fox William. And he
will always be your father. But more than that, he was a man, with
all the failings and successes that entails. I can't forgive what he
did, either, but the times were very different then. We were very
naive. You, son, have a luxury we were never given. You have the
courage to question those around you and above you. And might I
point out, it was _you_ he asked forgiveness of, not me!"
Mulder stood there, biting his lip and deciding how far he
wanted to take this. "It scares me. I don't want to end up like him,
mom," he said in a shaky voice.
Ann got up from her seat on the couch and went over to her
son. "Don't you see where that's not possible? You've already
rejected the one ideal he was protecting. The complete infallibility
of our government. He was so much like you, Fox. He was a good
man, an honest man when I married him. Do you really think so
little of me that you believe I would let a vile, dishonest, hateful
man father my children? He changed because he was trapped. He
came to realize how wrong he had been, but there was no way out.
And every time he tried, he kept getting caught, just like a fly in a
spider's web." She put her hand up to touch her son's cheek. "He
wanted you to reject him, Fox. He didn't want to risk you growing
up to make the same mistakes he did. And from where I'm
standing, he did a pretty good job." She gently rubbed a tear away
from his cheek.
"You are going to make a wonderful husband," she sighed.
"And I know you'll make a terrific father. What I want more than
anything else is to see you happy, Fox. That would make my oldest
and fondest dream come true."
"Dana makes me happy, mom. She always has," he nodded.
Then he took a deep breath and pulled away. "I better get dressed
or she'll shoot me again," he laughed, then realized that his mother
was looking at him with a concerned expression. "Oh, I deserved
it, mom. It's a long story. Right now, I better get a move on."
******
>

>

TO BOLDLY GO>>
part two

St Jude's Catholic Church
Tysons Corner, VA.
9:45 am

The church was modern, round and nothing like anything
Mulder could remember from his childhood. It was built in the
sixties, and was white with stained glass windows that were
abstract, mostly jagged pieces of different colored glass that were
leaded together with no rhyme or reason. As Mulder drove up to
the parking lot the only thought that flashed through his mind was
how much the church looked like a space ship. <Don't say it out
loud,> he warned himself. <That _would_ be a shooting offense.>
"Not exactly like the little church in Chilimark," Ann remarked
as she stepped out of the car.
"No, it's not, mom. But it's not like we're members here. It's
just where Tim is," he said quietly.
Ann noticed the mood. She may not know her son well, but she
knew her son. His moods weren't that different from his father. "Is
something wrong, Fox?"
"I was just thinking. This isn't Dana's church, either. I hope she
doesn't regret not having a big wedding, one with all the
trimmings." He sighed and stood, regarding the church.
"Fox," Ann said, putting her hand on his arm. "The young
woman I met at the hospital, the one who fought doctors, nurses,
and me to keep you alive, is in love with you and I really doubt that
it matters to her where you marry her or how big the wedding is.
She's going to spend the rest of her life with you, and that is all that
matters today." She turned him toward her and straightened his tie,
even though it really didn't need it. "Now, you look handsome. I'm
very proud of you. Go get married." She patted him on the chest,
leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and brushed the lipstick off.
As they started toward the door, a rather beat up VW vanagon
pulled up beside Mulder's car. The Lone Gunman Trio stepped out,
looking more than a little nervous. "I'll check out the church, you
keep an eye on the groom," Langly nodded to Byers and headed
through the church doors.
"And I'll keep a look out for the lovely Agent Scully," Frohike
interjected, taking up a position near the end of the sidewalk.
Mulder shook his head and walked over to the little man, Byers and
his mother in tow.
"Frohike, I want you to go into the church, find a seat
somewhere up front," Mulder directed, "and _stay out of trouble_!"
he added emphatically. "And I will hold you personally responsible
if the bride sees you here and decides to leave me at the altar," he
growled.
"Ah, Mulder, lighten up! Scully and I made our peace when you
were dead last April," Frohike grinned, then noticed Mulder's 'cut it
out' expression.
"Frohike, I'd like you to meet my mother, Ann Mulder," Mulder
hissed through clenched teeth.
The little man's eyes grew wild as he realized what he had just
said. "Oh, Mrs. Mulder, ahem, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, uh,
make light of, ah. . ."
"That's quite all right, Mr. Frohike. It was a difficult time, but
it's over now and I'd just as soon forget it," Ann said, allowing
Frohike to take her hand and shake it.
"And mom, this is Byers and the guy in the church is Langly,"
Mulder added, allowing Byers to come forward and shake hands as
well. "Byers is my best man, for lack of a better term and the other
two are, well, security, I guess," he grinned at Byers who rolled his
eyes toward the low hanging clouds.
"If you ask me, Mulder, you would have done better to get
weathermen," Byers commented dryly.
"A little rain never hurt anybody," Mulder retorted, sneaking a
glance at the sky. He took his mother's elbow and led her into the
church.

Tim Grant was turning on the lights as they entered. Langly
walked up to Mulder and assured him that "the priest checks out."
Mulder closed his eyes and wondered again at the wisdom of
inviting the three anti-conspirators. He walked over to shake hands
with Tim and introduce his mother.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Mulder. Dana and her mom
arrived a little while ago. They're getting ready now, but we can
start at any time." He walked with Mulder to the front of the
church, out of Ann's ear shot. "Did Dana let you go running this
morning?" he asked.
Mulder had been very happy to find that Tim was _not_ what he
expected as a priest. For one thing, Tim was very close to his age
and understood completely that not all couples came to the Church
and marriage first. He was just happy that this couple was making
the commitment they had already made to each other a more formal
commitment before God. He also was perfectly comfortable with
Mulder's lack of formal religious beliefs. The man obviously
believed in *something*, he was still searching, and Tim was
content with that.
"I snuck out at 6:00. But I didn't get yelled at when I got back,
so I guess I'm off parole. For the time being, of course," he
grinned.
"Of course," Tim laughed. "I promise to make this as painless
as possible, by the way. You want to go the 'repeat after me' or the
'two I dos' route?"
Mulder's grin got bigger. "You mean I actually get a say?"
"Well, to be honest, I asked Dana and she said to leave it up to
you. She _must_ love you, man. Not a lot of brides let the groom
decided any thing on their wedding day," Tim answered.
"Make her happy. Let's do the 'repeat after me'. I know it's
what she wants to do," Mulder said thoughtfully.
"It's your funeral, er, wedding," Tim said with a twinkle in his
eyes. "Sorry, just a little pre-wedding levity," he teased.
"I bet you're a gas at funerals, Tim," Mulder said, trying to
sound serious. It didn't work.
"Yeah, well, I haven't had too many requests for refunds," the
young priest retorted. "Shall I check on the bride so we can get
this show on the road?" Mulder nodded and motioned for Byers to
come join him at the altar steps.
"You sure you want to go through with this, Mulder? I mean,
it's not too late for us to spirit you away in the Vanagon," Byers
said, half teasing.
"No, Byers. It's about 3 years too late," Mulder smirked in
return. Three years. That's all the longer he had known his soon to
be lawful wife. But thinking back, he couldn't remember a time
when he didn't know her, didn't love her. He remembered that
before her, his life had been lonely and miserable. He didn't like to
think about what his life would be like without her. He waited
anxiously for the ceremony to begin.

Dana stood regarding herself in the full-length mirror. Her
mother, standing behind her, had the most incredible grin on her
face. "You look beautiful, sweetheart," Maggie sighed. "I just
wish. . ." Maggie stopped before she allowed that thought to reach
her daughter's ears. <No tears, Maggie. Not yet, at least,> a deep
male voice echoed in her mind. Maggie smiled and nodded in
compliance.
But it was too late. Her daughter had caught on quickly to what
her mother had left unsaid. With tears glistening in her own eyes,
she regarded Maggie in the mirror. "Would Ahab approve if he
knew about. . .about the baby?" she asked, pleading for the truth,
but seeking reassurance.
Maggie took the few steps until her arms wrapped around her
daughter's waist. "He is estatic, sweetheart," she said emphatically.
"He's up in heaven, looking down and he is so happy to see you so
much in love. All he ever wanted for his children is that they be
happy. And I know, I mean it, Dana, I _know_ he approves of
Fox. Your father loves him just as much as I do."
"Mom, you're talking about him like he's right here," Dana said
softly, pain in her voice.
Maggie pulled back and turned her daughter around so that she
was looking into her eyes and not just her reflection. She took
Dana's chin in her hand and wiped a tear away with her thumb. She
brought her other hand up and held it over her own heart. "Dana,
your father _is_ here. He's right here," she added, patting her heart
and then doing the same to Dana. "And right here. And that's
where he will always be." Maggie gave her daughter a hug. "I'm
sure Ann and Fox are here. I better get out there or I won't get a
good seat," she teased. Then she leaned over and kissed Dana
softly on her forehead. "We love you very much, sweetheart," she
murmured and left.
Dana turned to regard her reflection again. The dress was
simple, but elegant. She had found it at a little shop in
Georgetown. A light cream color, it was silk, with a floral pattern,
the hem fell just above her knees, and had long sleeves that came to
a point at the backs of her hands. The neckline was simple and
allowed her to wear her mother's emerald pendant. She had
splurged and bought shoes to match the dress. Her hair was pulled
off to one side and pinned with a comb of tiny cream colored roses
and babies breath. She had decided not to bother with a veil, only
the flowers. In her hands, she carried a single cream rose with
ribbon streamers. It was a nice reflection and she silently wondered
what her partner's reaction would be.
"He's going to love it," a voice said beside her. Dana spun
around, trying to find the source. In a shadowed alcove of the
room, a shimmering image formed and became solid. "Hi, sis,"
Melissa smiled. "You look radiant."
"Missy?" Dana choked, "you're. . .dead!" She rubbed her eyes
and looked again. Melissa took a step closer.
"I _know_ that! But you don't honestly think I would miss this,
do you?" Melissa inquired and tilted her head to inspect her sister
closer. "I have to hand it to you. I could never pull off roses and
babies breath. I think I would have to go with daisies. You always
were more sophisticated than I was," she said admiringly.
"Missy, what are you doing here?" Dana stammered.
"I'm reporting back to Dad. He's here too, but he thought you
probably would rather see me. I told him he was being silly, but he
insisted. And both of us coming, well, we thought that might be
too much for you. If it's just me, you can always convince yourself
that you're hallucinating or something equally scientifically
explainable, but incredibly boring. Did Fox tell you we talked?"
Slowly, Dana was regaining her ability to think properly. "Yes,
he did. And why, may I ask, did you tell him about the baby before
I could," she added, a little annoyed.
Melissa giggled. "Ah, c'mon Dana, I was just having fun!" She
grew serious. "Besides, he thought you were getting tired of him,
you had been yelling at him so much. I don't know if he would
have returned, in the state he was in. I had to give him a reason to
come back. It wasn't his time."
Dana thought for a moment. "Thank you. I mean, for giving
him a reason."
"Hey, what are big sisters for, anyway?" she grinned. "But you
had better get out there, or he'll think you're standing him up. I
love you both, you know. And little Meg. I'll hate to give her up
to you, she's a real sweetie. But I'll just be content to play with the
boys. They won't be arriving for a couple of years."
Dana smiled patiently. "Missy, we haven't decided on a name
for the baby, yet."
Melissa's image started shimmering again. "As long as it's not
Melissa, I don't care. But I still like Margaret," she said, fading out.
"Missy, wait, I wanted. . ." Dana called, but the image had
faded. Father Tim stuck his head around the door.
"Dana, are you ready?" he asked, then looked around the room.
He could have sworn he heard her talking to someone as he
approached but she was alone.
Dana swallowed back the tears in her voice. "Yes, I'm ready.
Any time you are," she answered. He smiled at her and nodded.
"Then it's showtime," he said brightly. "Oh, and Mulder decided
on the 'repeat after me' vows, but then, once he sees that dress, he
might wish he's made it easier on himself--he might have trouble
keeping up," he teased.

Everyone was seated, which wasn't saying much. Langly,
Frohike, Ann and Maggie sat in the front pew, Frohike armed with
a high powered Nikon to take pictures. Dana's friend Kathy had
agreed to stand up with her and made it just in time to walk down
the aisle. Just before she was about to enter the church, the doors
opened and Dana turned to find the Assistant Director.
"I'm not too late, am I?" Walter Skinner asked in a whisper to
the bride.
Dana broke out in a grin. "No sir, just in time. Go on up and
take a seat. We're about to start." He nodded and made his way up
the side aisle to sit behind the occupants of the front pew. Dana
secretly wished Frohike might have snapped a picture of her partner
when he realized their boss was in attendance. It would definitely
be great blackmail material in the future.
Tim nodded to Kathy, and the procession started. The church
organist had been pressed into service and Dana had requested
something other than the traditional wedding march. Mulder smiled
as Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 issued from the organ at the
back of the church. The same music which floated millions of miles
away on the Voyager Probe. <Very fitting, Scully,> he thought to
himself. This, too was an exploration, but of an entirely different
kind.
<She's gorgeous,> he thought, and it struck him just how many
times he had looked over at her during their partnership and
thought the same way. Even when she had been at her most
frustrating, slamming his theories, calling him crazy, giving him that
raised eyebrow that as much as words told him that she was not
about to buy whatever it was he was selling, he would be taken by
just how gorgeous she was. <How on earth did you get so lucky,>
he wondered. But before he could formulate an answer, she was
standing beside him, smiling shyly, as if she weren't aware of how
beautiful she was, how much he loved her, how much he needed
her, now and forever. The look he turned upon her silently
conveyed his answer. <You are my beloved, of course you are
beautiful, yes, I love you, I will always need you, forever!> Her
smile brighten by a magnitude, she understood.
Father Tim cleared his throat to break the silent communication.
"We are here, in the House of Our Lord, to unite these two people
in matrimony. This is not just a formality, but a consecration. Fox
and Dana have been united, in work, in life, in friendship, and in
their search, for a very long time. Now, they want to make that
commitment formal, before God, before their families and friends,
and to each other. Let us join with them as they pledge their
vows."
"If you'll repeat after me: I, Fox William, take you, Dana
Katherine, to be my wife. . ."
Suddenly Ann felt a slight breeze on the back of her neck. She
turned and looked around, seeking the open window in the small
church. In the back of the sanctuary, almost in shadow, she saw
him. The image was faint, but there was William Mulder, looking
exactly as he had on their wedding day, 35 years before. With a
single look, he smiled and nodded his greeting to her. It took her
no time to remember the way he had stood, looking exactly like
that in the little college chapel in Boston. There had been so much
animosity between them in the later years that most of her happy
memories had faded. Today, however, watching their only son
marry the woman he loved, a few of those memories began to shine
again. She closed her eyes and let them float through her mind.
Then she looked back again, and the image was gone.

Since the wedding reception was lunch at a local restaurant, the
party began almost immediately. Frohike requested to be the first
to kiss the bride and Dana was amazed when he took her hand and
not her pro-offered cheek. In a fit of endearment, she kissed him
back, on the forehead. The blush didn't leave his cheeks until well
after dessert.
The newlyweds, as Langly kept referring to them, invited the
Assistant Director to join them, but he begged off. "I just wanted
to give you this," he said, handing Mulder a business envelope.
"And to tell you that I don't expect to see either of you at the office
until Wednesday. We can discuss the contents of that," he
motioned to the envelope again, "at that time. Oh, and
congratulations," he added, shaking both their hands before leaving
the church. Mulder started to rip open the letter, but Scully
stopped him.
"Let's not ruin the reception," she whispered and he nodded,
tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket.
******
>

>

To Boldly Go
part three

It had started to rain while they were in the restaurant and they
said their good-byes under the awning. Maggie flashed Dana a 'are
you sure you won't reconsider' look, she was still concerned that
they were going to be disappointed in their choice of honeymoon
accommodations. Dana smiled and squeezed her hand for
reassurance.
Ann was going to Maggie's house overnight before traveling
back to New England. The two women had become friends in a
short while. They still had a lot to catch up on, Ann hoping that
Maggie could help her know her son better. But before they left,
Ann pulled Dana aside.
"I have something for you," she said in a quiet voice, not
wanting Mulder to over hear.
"Ann, you've already given us our present," Dana objected, but
soon Ann was pressing a shoebox sized package into her hands.
"No, this isn't exactly a wedding present, dear. Just, well,
there's a note inside. It will explain everything." She leaned over
and gave Dana a kiss on the cheek. "If anyone can help him accept
the way things happened, it's you, Dana. He loves you very much.
Just help him through this, please. I can't. Only you can."
Dana gave the older woman a confused look, but Ann and
Maggie had already started out toward Maggie's car in the parking
lot. Mulder had been busy convincing Frohike that the three Lone
Gunman didn't need to come and make sure the honeymoon cottage
was properly 'debugged' and didn't notice the exchange between his
mother and his new wife. Dana started to comment, but Mulder
took the package from her and put it in the trunk with the rest of
the packages. They had a nice drive in the rain ahead of them.

"Tell me again how we snagged this place," Mulder asked as
they arrived at the large A frame cottage in the middle of the Blue
Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
"Uncle Fred was Dad's XO. He never married, so he adopted
us. After he left the service, he made a killing in electronics, sort of
a mini Bill Gates. This is his 'get away' cabin. He lives in Florida,
so he doesn't use it very often. He lets us use it whenever we
want." She smiled as she punched the elaborate keypad security
system in addition to using the traditional key. "He's also very into
security systems. We're safer here than at the Pentagon."
"_We_ have _never_ been safe 'at the Pentagon'," he shot back
and immediately swooped her into his arms.
"If you strain your back and try to use that as an excuse for poor
performance later, you are *meat*, Mulder," she growled at him
with a predatory gleam in her eyes.
"You're light as a feather, ow! My back!" he feigned and
dropped her on the nearest sofa where she pulled him down with
her.
He was on top of her, staring into her eyes. "Hi, Mrs. Mulder,"
he whispered.
"Hi, Mr. Scully," she smiled back.
He chuckled. "Hey, that's not bad. A great way to run from my
reputation. I'll just take your name."
"What reputation? That you are the most brilliant agent the
Bureau has seen, with the relentlessness of Elliot Ness and J. Edgar
combined? That you have one of the highest solved/case ratios,
higher than any other single agent in the last ten years? That
reputation?" she asked innocently.
His smile brightened. "Is that what you think of me? Just a
'brilliant agent'? Gosh, how romantic," he chucked.
She started kissing him on the nose, the eyelids, the forehead.
"You didn't let me finish. I was just getting to the good part," she
sighed in his ear.
"Tell me later," he whispered in return and took possession of
her mouth.
Making love on the sofa had been wonderful, in the king sized
bed in the loft bedroom proved to be even better and it was almost
supper time before they decided it might be nice to explore their
new surroundings. The cabin was enormous, the first floor
consisting of a living room, dining room combination separated by a
large fireplace, open on both sides. The kitchen was complete with
all modern conveniences. A small room off the kitchen contained a
laundry room. Two small bedrooms were downstairs with a
bathroom connecting them. Up the open staircase was the loft.
Huge glass triangles formed the east and west walls of the loft.
The fireplace went through the middle and was open to both sides,
as downstairs, dividing the room in to a sitting room and a
bedroom. A king bed on the north eaves was flooded with early
morning light on sunny days. A small efficient bath with a shower
stall was built into the south eaves. After a few minutes of
exploration, and Mulder suggesting several 'interesting areas' to
'investigate' later, Dana suggested that they unpack the car and eat.
Maggie had packed Mulder's trunk with enough food for a week
and a half, reminding Dana that they really should 'eat' while on this
trip, too. It was still a little embarrassing for Dana to hear her
mother tease her about her sex life, but it was also sort of nice, like
starting a new chapter of their mother/daughter relationship. There
was a lot more to her mother than Dana had ever imagined.
"OK, I can understand that you are eating for two, but who else
did your mom think we were bringing on our honeymoon, the Fifth
Armored Division," Mulder grumbled as he brought in the sixth bag
of groceries and an ice chest full of refrigerated foods. "You know
we have to tote all this back home when we leave," he added.
"Yes, and we don't have to go to the store for a week, so quit
complaining," she warned him. "Did you bring in the other things?"
"Suitcases, yes, presents, no," he answered. "Oh, this one, I did
bring in. We forgot to open it." He tossed the shoebox package on
the countertop. "Who's it from, there's no card?"
She glanced up from rummaging in a lower cabinet to see the
brown box. "That's mine. It's from your mom. She said it wasn't a
wedding present. I have no idea what's in it. Why don't you open
it?" she suggested. She was pouring a can of soup into a pot and
setting it on the stove.
Mulder picked up the package suspiciously. He turned it over
several times before placing it carefully on the countertop again.
"I really don't think your mother would send us a bomb,
Mulder," Scully teased. "Just open it."
"Maybe not a bomb in the traditional sense, love, but something
equally explosive, nonetheless. No, she gave it to you. Obviously,
she wants you to open. She had plenty of opportunities to give it to
me on the drive to the church." He moved away from the package
as if it were a snake about to strike.
Scully turned to him with her hands on her hips. "I really don't
think there's that much to read in to it. You were off arguing with
'the boys', and she probably forgot about it on the drive over." He
stood shaking his head, it was clear that he wanted nothing to do
with the package. "Do you know how silly you're being right
now?" she asked, exasperated. He nodded.
"But that's not enough to make me open that box," he said
evenly. "The last package was quite enough for me, thank you.
You get the honors this time. She likes you, she won't hurt you.
With me, I'm not so sure," he added with a rueful shake of his head.
She reached for the box, prepared to end the discussion. He
quickly put his hand over hers. "Can it wait until after dinner?
Every condemned man gets a last meal," he joked, rather lamely.
She let out a sigh and moved the package aside to make way for the
rest of the meal.
It wasn't the fanciest meal they had ever shared, but it wasn't the
worst, either. Soup, sandwiches, iced tea out of bottles--not
exactly what Dana had imagined she would be eating on her
wedding night. But then, it wasn't the food that made the night
special, it was the man sitting across from her, who kept
'accidentally' rubbing his foot up and down her leg every time she
wasn't looking directly into his eyes.
"Mulder, I thought you had enough this afternoon," she teased.
"If I don't eat, I'll faint," she warned with good nature.
"I can never get enough of you, and you know that. We have
three years to make up for," he shot back.
"And you intend to make up for them _tonight_?" she laughed.
"We could make a good dent, I figure," he leered at her. It was
a good thing she had managed to finish her sandwich, because
suddenly, all thoughts of food evaporated from both their minds.

The fire in the fireplace had burned low and was now just
glowing coals. Fox Mulder carefully slid out from under his wife's
arm and pulled on a pair of sweatpants as he moved to the little
sitting room. Before he got all the way out of the bedroom, he
chanced a look at the small still form now huddled under the
covers. <My wife,> he smiled to himself. <How did I get so
lucky?>
Luck had nothing to do with it, he was sure. Fate, that had a lot
to do with it. Fate caused Section Chief Blevins to pick Dana
Scully to spy on him. Fate pushed them into circumstances that
forced them to trust each other and no one else. Fate had put them
in danger more times than he wanted to count and fate had
managed to keep them alive when both of them should have been
dead long ago. He was sure it was fate that had brought her back
to him, from her abduction, from her coma. If their lives were ruled
by fate, at least they still had each other.
He suddenly remembered the envelope from Skinner. <Might as
well see what Fate has in store for us this time,> he mused. He
searched in the closet for the jacket he had been wearing. The
white envelope was still there. He sat down on the big overstuffed
chair by the dying coals of the fireplace and opened the envelope.
There was just enough light from the fire and the moonlight to see
to read.
He was sitting there, chewing on his lip and watching the now
stoked fire, when Dana came in and sat down at his knee. "You
OK?" she asked, noting his dour expression.
"Fine. Hey, how's the psychiatric benefits on our health
insurance policy?" he said, half jokingly.
She leaned back to look at him more closely. "It's an HMO.
Ten dollar co-pay in network. Why?"
He handed her the paper. "Skinner's solution. I go back to
VCS, you go to pathology. We have the X files as side projects.
The way it's worded, we still report to him, he can assign us as he
sees fit. But the bottom line is VCS gets me back as a profiler and
you do lab work in DC until after the baby. Then, well, we see
what happens when you come back from leave."
She sighed heavily after reading the memo for herself. "But it
sounds like it's just on paper," she said quietly. "You know as well
as I do that Skinner doesn't want the X files locked in the archives
anymore. He'll make sure we stay in the field. And you do profiles,
now, occasionally. It won't be that bad," she tried to sound
reassuring, but it wasn't coming through.
He made a feeble attempt to laugh. "You don't know VCS like
I do. When I got the new division, well, let's just say I didn't leave
on the best of terms. They were pissed as hell that I got out when I
wanted to. Reggie Purdue was the only one who didn't so much as
tell me that they'd get me back, one way or another." He closed his
eyes and leaned back on the overstuffed chair. He almost didn't
notice when she climbed up on his lap until he found himself
caressing her bare leg.
"You've never talked about that time." She turned his head
toward her with one finger. "It was bad, wasn't it?" It was more
than a question, it was an invitation to cleanse his soul.
"You have a flare for understatement, my love," he said with a
sardonic smile. "Bad is a relative term. If losing your mind without
hope of ever regaining it again can be considered 'bad', then, yeah,
it was bad."
She ran her hand through his hair for a moment. It felt soft and
silky and she allowed herself to lose her emotions in the simple
action. But the conversation was far too important for her not to
continue it. "But you didn't lose your mind."
"I came too damn close, Dana," he whispered. "You know the
old adage, 'physician, heal thyself'? Well, when I woke up one
morning, having not eaten in a week, having survived on no more
than two hours sleep at a time for so long that I had forgotten what
a pillow felt like, and I faced another profile only minutes after
finishing a case, I saw what was happening. I knew I had lost
myself. And I knew that I couldn't go on like that anymore. I did a
quick and dirty analysis of my own behavior and if I'd been a
clinical psychologist, I would have had me committed. By that time
I already had stumbled on the X files. They were my salvation.
Marty Props bought me the stature I needed to pull in a few favors.
I wasn't leaving the Bureau, just moving on." He pulled her closer
and let himself smell her nearness, her hair, her skin.
"But this time it will be different," she whispered.
He pulled back and reached up to brush the hair from her face,
the unasked question playing across his eyes.
"This time, you have me," she answered. He smiled and
nodded, enfolding her in his arms and settling back to watch the fire
dance off her hair.

Sometime later, they wearily made their way back to the bed and
for the rest of the night, he held her tight against him, as if she were
a life preserver in a storm tossed sea. When the first rays of the sun
filtered through the pine tree, she realized he had finally fallen
asleep. Silently, she padded down to the kitchen and started the
coffee. She decided to let him sleep. He needed it. She was
grateful that the night had passed with only the echoes of
nightmares, and not the nightmares themselves.
She had just about decided what to fix for breakfast when she
noticed the package still on the counter top. She reached over and
picked it up. It was relatively light, and was wrapped in non
descript floral paper. There was no tag or note, but she knew there
wouldn't be. Just for fun, she shook it to see if it rattled.
Something heavy shifted in the bottom of the box, but beyond that,
there was no clue as to it's contents. <Ah, c'mon Starbuck. Don't
let him 'spook' you. It's not a bomb, so open it and get it over
with.>
She pulled up a stool to the counter and sat down to open the
package. Once the paper was off, a shoebox was revealed. <Bet
it's not shoes, either,> she mused and carefully took off the lid. She
was somewhat surprised at what looked up at her from the box. A
small stuffed bear, nose shiny from years of some child's 'love',
dressed in a yellow rain slicker with a 'nor'wester' hat tied in place.
It looked for all the world like a miniature fisherman, just waiting
for the next squall to blow up. On his left breast were the words
'Niagara Falls, N.Y. She picked him up and held him, taking in the
smell of dust and time and a small boy. Under the bear was a
leather bound journal. She opened it slowly, not recognizing the
handwriting, but seeing is was masculine and controlled. It had a
vague familiarity to it, and she realized it looked a good deal like
Mulder's handwriting. There was no preface to indicate who the
book belonged to, but there was a scribbled signature on the upper
left corner of the first page: W. Mulder. The journal had belonged
to his father.
A small white envelope was the only other item in the box. On
the outside, it read simply, Dana. She laid the book and the bear
back in the box and opened the note.

"Dear Dana,
I would like to introduce you to Alexander. I found him
in the attic when I went to look for Grandma Mulder's
ring. He's a little worn and the worse for wear, but I thought
you might want to save him for our new little one. Perhaps,
you and Fox might visit Niagara and get him a playmate. I
understand that they still sell them at the gift shop there.

Underneath Alexander is Bill's journal. He kept several, but
this is the only one I could find. I don't know when it's from,
I'm ashamed to say I didn't have the courage to open it. I'm
afraid I'm not like Fox--I really don't want to know what
secrets are hidden between these pages. But I know my son,
and he does need to find the truth. I just hope it's a truth he can
accept and learn to live with.

You may think it odd that I have given this to you and not to
Fox. Well, my motives were very simple. I want you to read
this and decide if it will help my son in his search, or only cause
him pain. I don't want to hurt him anymore, Dana. I've seen
him hurt too many times. I'm trusting you to keep him safe,
even from his father's memory and me, if need be.

I do hope you'll let me know when the baby comes. I won't
make a nuisance of myself, but I would like to see my grand-
child. Maybe with the next generation, I can undo some of
the mistakes of the past. Someone once told me that was
what grandchildren are for.

Take care of yourself and my son,

Love always,
Ann M."
*****
>

>

The conclusion. The Brotherhood picks up about a month later.

part four
To Boldly Go
disclaimer in part one

The light was filtered only by the bare limbs of the trees outside
the window. Even so, it wasn't bright enough to wake him. It was
the sense that something was missing, or rather some 'one' was
missing that brought him out of the dream he was having and into
the waking world. Fox Mulder sat up and looked around the loft
room, for a moment forgetting what had transpired the day before
and how he had come to this place. Slowly, a quiet smile replaced
the confused look on his face and he remembered. The wedding,
the afternoon spent making love in a mountain hideaway, even the
discussion of their jobs and their future by the firelight. Like
everything else in his life, this was not going to be easy. But more
than any other decision he had made in his adult life, he knew this
new direction was worth any hardship that might come along. With
the morning light, he realized one simple truth: as long as he was
with Dana, they could face anything, and prevail.
"Wife!" he bellowed, not even bothering to get out of bed. It
was a teasing noise, he waited to see what kind of reaction it would
cause.
Down the stairs, in the kitchen, Dana couldn't suppress a grin.
<It's awake! It's lives!> she thought to herself and reached over to
pour another cup of coffee. Digging in the cupboard, she found a
lap tray and added a bagel, some cream cheese and a butterknife
next to the coffee, then headed up the stairs.
Upon reaching the top of the steps, she saw him, grinning at her.
"Yes, m'lord?" she feigned an accent and brought the tray over to
him.
He had to bite his lip to impose a serious expression on his face.
"You weren't here to perform your wifely duties," he said, with a
fairly good imitation of a scowl..
She walked over to the big, king-sized bed and deposited the lap
tray at the foot. She sat down next to him, spread some cream
cheese on the bagel and looked up at him wide-eyed. "And what
'wifely duties' would those be?" she asked as she handed him the
bagel.
Careful, so as not to disturb the tray, he pulled her onto his lap.
"Oh, you know, the usual. Fetching my slippers, laying out my
clothes for the day, drawing my bath, shaving me. . ." he said with a
distinct gleam in his eyes, while wolfing down the bagel.
She matched his gleam perfectly. "You're going to trust me
with a sharp object near your throat?" she teased.
"OK, skip the shaving," he replied and she shoved him hard
enough to push him back on the pillows of the bed. They lay there,
kissing a while, until she finally snuggled in the crook of his arm.
"So, what got you up so early this morning? I was hoping for
some 'quality' time," he remarked casually as he stroked her hair.
"We're out of dollar bills," she teased, referring to the deal they
had made the day before. He chuckled softly. "I was hungry and I
didn't wake you because I thought you needed the sleep. You
didn't sleep that well after you read Skinner's letter," she added.
"Yeah, well, everything looks a little better in the light of day. I
think you were right last night. Skinner seems intent on keeping us
in the field as long as your condition permits. And I'll be a lot
happier knowing that you are safe in the Path Dept. and not at the
beck and call of anyone in the building," he said.
"What about you? Are you going to be OK? What if you end
up stuck with profiling all the while I'm not out in the field? That
could be six months or more. I want you safe, but I would like to
have you 'sane', as well," she replied, running her hands over his
chest to make her point.
"I'll keep hold of my sanity, as long as you're there when I get
home. If I start acting 'nutsy', you have a piece of paper that gives
you the right to kick me in the butt and make me get my priorities
right. What's our silver pattern say again?" he smiled jokingly at
her.
"Something about 'It will all work out', if I remember it
correctly," she answered. "Oh, I almost forgot. I've got someone
downstairs I think you might know." She pulled from his embrace
and almost ran down the steps. She reappeared a few moments
later holding something behind her back. He braced himself for the
worst. Smiling broadly, she whipped her hand out and deposited
the little bear on his lap. "Remember this guy?" she asked brightly.
For a minute, his look was one of confusion. Then, he slowly
picked up the stuffed toy and examined it carefully. A ghost of a
smile played on his lips as he brought the bear up to his face and
rubbed noses with it. "Hey, Alexander. How've you been?" he
said, only to the bear. Finally, as if he just remembered that she
was in the room, he looked up at Dana. "I thought he was lost," he
explained softly.
"You're Mom found him while she was looking for your
Grandmother's ring. She thinks we should go to the Falls and get
him a playmate," she smiled as she thought of the note. "I think it's
a great idea--I haven't been to the Falls since I was in middle
school. I remember it was really beautiful at night with the lights
under the mist and all."
"It's a thought. Maybe a vacation before the baby comes," he
answered. "So, what else was in that box. It was too heavy to be
just Alexander."
Dana sat silent for a moment and regarded the bedspread. She
knew he wouldn't let her get by with ignoring his question forever.
"It's a book," she said simply. His eyes shot her the next question.
"It's one of your Father's journals." The look of shock on his face
caused her to try and explain. "It's just one of them. Apparently
there are more. Your Mother wanted me to read it first. She didn't
want you to see it if I thought it might be too painful for you. She
was trying to protect you. But I think you should read it. If it
bothers you too much, well, I'm here anytime you need me." She
reached into the pocket of her robe and handed him the leather
bound book.
He touched it gingerly, as if it might be too hot to handle.
Slowly, he opened it, turning the pages, but not reading. He
seemed lost in thought, a million miles away.
"Look, I'm going downstairs. I thought I'd take a walk later. I'll
come get you, see if you want to come along. I think you have
some reading to do right now, though," she said and quietly left the
loft.

For a long time he simply sat on the bed and looked at the
pages. His father's handwriting was very controlled, very fluid, and
easy to read. But he didn't really want to read the words. It was
still too close, still too hard to think about. He started to put the
book on the bedside table but stopped. <Maybe just a page or two,
to find out what year this was written in,> he thought.
Carefully, he opened the book and settled back on the padded
headboard of the bed.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

May 14, 1972

I got back from New Mexico last night. I still can't believe
what's happening. D. assures me that it is all in the interest of
National Security and I am at a loss to argue the point. I visited V.
in his lab. The work is progressing at an amazing rate and V. is
sure the next round of subjects will prove to be more resilient than
the last. But it is not the work that is bothering me. It's the idea of
the experiments. I guess I was happier not knowing what the work
was about--in just blindly assisting in the security required to
conduct the project. It is hard to know that so many subjects don't
live longer than a few weeks. I know they aren't human, have no
semblance of humanity, but it still makes me wonder if they feel as
we do. Do they feel pain? Do they experience fear? Do they
contemplate what will happen to them? D. says such speculation
will only lead to my own insanity and can't possibly help the
research. A. reminds me that he was responsible for at least one
extermination of the original subjects and that he feels they are no
more capable of such higher emotions than the garden variety
tomato. V. has chosen not to even dignify my questions with an
opinion.

Fox has again made the baseball team. Right field. He has the
arm to be a pitcher, but says he doesn't like the position. I've given
up trying to tell him that it's better than the position he's in. He has
a mind of his own. Sometimes I see myself in him. Other times, it's
like watching a total stranger. Hopefully, he will get his head out of
the clouds sometime soon and start taking life seriously. Until that
time comes, I will simply have to try and keep my temper in check,
something I find increasingly difficult to do.

Samantha continues to follow her own drummer. She is a
thinker, much deeper than Fox. Always with her nose in a book,
always considering how to redesign the universe. She is a marvel
to behold. And she looks more like Ann every day. For that, I am
eternally grateful. The women in my family were never considered
raving beauties. With her long dark hair and those hazel eyes, I'll
soon be stringing barbed wire around the house to keep the boys
away.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Mulder sat and stared at the pages. The image of the men
standing in front of the mining operation drifted into his head. <V.
That must be Victor Klemper. A. killed an E.B.E.--could that be
Deep Throat?> He was almost afraid of who the mysterious D.
might be. <Cancerman? God, I hope not.>
There was more to this book than he had imagined upon
opening it. The year was the same one his sister had disappeared
in. It was safe to assume from just the first entry that this was also
the time when his father starting asking questions. <Would he have
recorded what he discovered. What were the details of the deal he
made, the circumstances that led to Sam's abduction?> It was
everything Mulder could do to keep from sitting and reading the
book through cover to cover.
<This isn't the time or place,> he chided himself. Downstairs
was a woman who loved him very much, enough to give him the
freedom to search for his answers while on their honeymoon. Dana
could have waited to show him the book when they were back in
DC. He wouldn't have known the difference. But instead, she gave
it to him the minute he mentioned it. <There will be plenty of time
to read it later.> With a force of will, he put the book down and
headed for the shower.

Dana looked up from the book on her lap, hoping for some sign
of life from the loft above. He'd been up there for over an hour. So
far, she hadn't heard any of the sounds she was afraid she would
hear: glass breaking, screams of anguish, the journal hitting the
wall where it had been thrown across the room. But this silence
was even more unnerving. She was just about to the point where
she was going to go up and see if he was still awake, or still alive
when he appeared on the stairs.
"Hey, we're wasting daylight here," he boomed cheerfully. He
had dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, hiking boots on his feet. "I
thought you had invited me on a walk. Are you going, or what?"
he asked playfully.
She sat in the chair, stunned for a moment. Slowly, she shook
her head and regarded his demeanor. <OK, this looks manic.
Depressive will come with nightfall. You're getting good at this
psychology crap, Starbuck. After 50 years of this, you could be a
shrink in your own right.> "Are you all right?" she asked, wanting
to make sure.
Mulder sat down beside her on the sofa. "Yeah," he said,
putting his arm around her. "It's not as bad as I thought it would
be. Actually, there is the possibility that we might find some
answers in those pages. But right now, I am on my honeymoon and
I intend to spend every minute of that time with my wife. You
wouldn't happen to have seen her anywhere, have you," he grinned.
He leaned over her and was almost kissing her when she pulled him
down and kissed him hard on the lips.
"I say 'ditch the broad' and I'll show you a real good time, big
guy," she purred in his ear when she finally released her hold on the
back of his neck.
"Sounds great, but she's an FBI agent and always scores in the
high 90's on the shooting range," he murmured when she stopped
kissing him long enough to let him breath.
"I'll take my chances," she laughed and they both quit talking for
a nice long time.

There was a trail out behind the cabin that led to a little stream.
A bend in the stream formed a small pool and an ancient oak
supported a rope swing that could easily reach to the middle of the
stream.
"I see the work of a Scully in this," Mulder teased as they
approached the pool. The forest undergrowth was sparse here,
after years of children tramping it down.
Dana smiled. "Yeah, that was Bill, Jr.'s idea. I think they put it
up when I was 5 or 6. Of course, no one would let me near it until
I was 10 or 11. That was when Uncle Fred had the old cabin out
here."
"You mean you didn't always have this luxury?" he laughed.
"Oh, no," she chuckled. "The 'mansion' has only been here
about 5 years. Before that, it was a one room cabin with a privy
out back. I think that's how mom still remembers it and probably
why she didn't want us to spend our honeymoon here. I don't know
that she's been to this place more than once or twice. We used to
spend whole weeks at the old place." She smiled, lost in the
memory. "I remember the first time I got to swing on the rope.
Missy was yelling at Bill that I was too young, Charlie was mad
because no body would let him do it yet, and I just shinnied out the
limb, grabbed the rope and shoved off. I felt like I was flying. .
.Then I let go, but I didn't think about how I was going to hit the
water." She was laughing now.
"Don't tell me," he was laughing with her. "You belly flopped."
"Big time! I got the breath knocked out of me and sank like a
rock. The pool is deceptive. It's formed by the roots of this tree
and is about 12 feet deep. Missy started screaming at the boys, or
so the boys say, and Bill was cussing a blue streak about how
sisters were 'too damn much trouble' and he jumped in after me. By
that time, I was making my way back to the surface, but he had to
show off his 'life saving' technique anyway. He grabbed me under
my chin and I went berserk. I was madder than a wet hen, which I
probably resembled. So I started hitting him on the head and when
he finally got me out of the water, he threw me over his shoulder,
carried me back to the cabin and told mom to keep me there."
"What did your mom do?" he asked between gasps of laughter
at the thought of his wife, soaking wet and angry. He'd seen her
like that, and knew exactly what Bill, Jr. had been up against. It
was fun listening to her family stories, he had so few of his own.
"She told Bill that it was his responsibility to watch out for his
younger brother and sisters and sent me back out, but not before
she told me that the surest way to drown was to fight someone
trying to save me," Dana laughed. "Sometimes I wonder how she
survived, with the four of us butting heads all the time and Daddy
gone so much. But she never seemed to let it get to her, she took it
all in stride."
"Your mom is the strongest woman I know," Mulder said
thoughtfully. "Well, 'second' strongest, maybe," he corrected
himself. "A _real_ close second," he added and put his arm around
his wife's shoulders.
She nuzzled into his chest, returning the embrace. "You hold
up pretty well, yourself," she murmured.
"Nah, I'm a basketcase, you know that. I definitely got the
better end of this bargain." He leaned down and kissed her head.
"Come on. Show me more of these woods."
She looked up at him in feigned horror. "You aren't suggesting
we take a 'nice little walk in the forest', are you, Mulder?"
He shuddered. The last time he'd said that, it ended them in
quarantine for a month. "Never. No way. Not me."

It was past noon by the time they made their way back to the
cabin. They ate a late lunch and Mulder insisted on cleaning up.
He shooed Dana out of the kitchen and ordered her to take a
bubble bath. At first, she thought he was kidding, but when he
went in and started the bath water for her, she knew he was serious.
He got out two big fluffy towels, a fresh set of sweats for her and
even went so far as to put on some music in the living room, loud
enough to filter through the door.
When she entered the bathroom she regarded him with a sly
grin. "Aren't you joining me," she asked coyly.
He shook his head with a smile. "Not this time. You need some
time all for yourself. We've been on a whirlwind the last two weeks
and I want you to relax. Take all the time you want in the bath,
when you finish, go take a nap. I've got something I need to do in
town."
She frowned. "Mulder, what are you planning. . ." she asked
with an underlying note of suspicion.
He laughed at her expression. "Nothing you wouldn't approve
of, believe me. It's just a little surprise. I promise, I'll be back by 5,
Scouts Honor," he added, holding up his hand in a Boy Scout
salute.
"You do that a lot, Fox William Mulder, and I don't think you
*ever* were a Boy Scout," she said, still not convinced she liked
the most recent turn of events.
"I would never lie to you, my love," he said, kissing her on the
head. He gently brushed the hair behind her ears. Then he leaned
close and whispered in her ear "Eagle Scout, inducted 1975. I still
have the badge to prove it." He kissed her again and turned to
leave. "Be back in a couple of hours. Now remember, RELAX.
Oh, and I love you," he added.

Dana sank into the bubbles and let the water come all the way
up to her chin. <God, this feels _great_,> she mused. <Just like. .
.> She stopped herself. <Just like when I was single,> she smiled
and blew a couple of the bubbles across the tub. <Back in the good
old days, three days ago,> she laughed. So much had happened.
Fox was right, she did need some time, just to herself.

Often, when she was coming back from a really awful case, she
would draw a bath and soak, giving herself the time to reflect on
her life. Usually, she spent the time being grateful that she and
Mulder were still alive. Sometimes, she would let her mind drift to
what the rest of her life had in store for her. That was where she
wandered today. The rest of her life.

She had known for sometime that she would be spending the
rest of her life with Fox Mulder. For a long time, she assumed that
meant as his partner at work. Then, gradually, she started day
dreaming of spending her *whole* life with him. All of it, the
mornings and the midnights and all the time in between. But those
were just day dreams, and her rational mind refused to let her
believe it would ever come about. Until Christmas. And then she
knew.

And now she was his wife and he was her husband. She had
always thought of those roles in terms of her parents, not in terms
of herself. And even more astonishing to her, she and her partner,
now wife and husband, were about to parents to someone else. It
boggled her mind. <Will it change me?> she wondered. <Will I
even be good at it?> It made her feel a little better to know that
she wasn't going to be going through this alone. Like everything
else that had happened to her in the last 4 years time, Mulder would
be firmly by her side, never wavering, always there to support her,
guide her, help her. <It really will be all right,> she sighed and let
her mind drift to baby things, tiny dresses and ruffled panties, little
patent leather shoes and tiny bonnets. . .

She was standing in the back of a church. It was old and
smelled of incense and flowers. She looked to her left and there
stood Mulder, smiling at her. His hair was brushed with grey at the
temples and his face had a few more lines than she remembered.
He was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, the years
had been kind. He was wearing a black tux, with a grey striped
ascot tie. He was fidgeting with the tie a bit.

"Love, did I do something wrong here?" he asked. He moved
his chin up so she could inspect his handiwork. She looked at it
and then reached up to adjust the tie. He brought his own hand up
to press her hand to his cheek. "You're the most beautiful woman
in the place, you know," he whispered. "Any place." Then, his
eyes tracked over her shoulder and he caught his breath.

She turned and saw a young woman standing in the doorway.
She was breathtakingly beautiful, and she looked so familiar. She
was in a satin and lace wedding dress, very traditional in style. Her
auburn hair was pinned back with the headpiece of her veil. The
diamond and emerald necklace she wore brought out the green in
her hazel eyes. She wore a dazzling smile but her eyes were shy,
like she wasn't sure of herself. Fox went to her immediately and
took her into a hug.

"You look gorgeous, Pumpkin," he said to her, his voice husky
with emotion. "Doesn't she, Mommy?" he asked, catching Dana's
eye.

Dana felt a hand on her shoulder but she refused to open her
eyes. She didn't want to leave the dream until she heard his voice
calling her name. "Dana, sweetie. I don't think it's too safe falling
asleep in a tub of cold water." His voice was gentle, soothing,
almost musical. "Come on, let's get you dry and in some warm
clothes. Are you all right?" Now his voice was full of concern.

She opened her eyes and focused on his face. He was looking
worried, but when he saw her eyes, he smiled. "Hey, there you are.
You were scaring me." He pulled her out of the tub and wrapped
her in one of the towels, then handed her the clothes as she dressed.
"I wanted you relaxed, not comatose, Dana," he chided playfully.
She smiled at his joke and followed him up the stairs.

He had laid a blanket out in front of the fireplace. There was a
tray of cheese, meats and crackers and a wine chiller with a bottle in
it. He pulled her down to sit next to him on the blanket and then
drew out the bottle for her inspection. Sparkling apple cider. She
laughed and shook her head at his thoughtfulness. "I love you," she
said quietly.

"I hope so, you're stuck with me," he quipped. He settled down
next to her with a wine glass in his hand, giving her one as well. "A
toast. To the most beautiful woman in the place. Any place." He
raised his glass to her and then took a sip. She did the same.
"Watch that stuff, Scully. It sneaks up on you," he joked.

"I'll take my chances," she laughed. "Besides, I know you only
want me out of control so you can take advantage of me," she
added with a sly grin.

"The advantage is all yours, my love," he murmured. He
reached over to the table behind them and picked up a box. It was
flat and rectangular, about 5 inches by 10 inches. A jewlers box.

"Fox William Mulder, what did you do?" she asked, eyeing him
suspiciously. He handed her the box with a Cheshire Cat smile.
She bit her lip and opened it.

Inside was a diamond and emerald necklace. When she looked
at it, she realized she had seen it before, the necklace in her dream.
"Fox, this is . . .it's. . .my god, how much did this cost?" she
stammered.

He laughed. "Enough," he admitted. "I wanted to give you
something special. I was thinking about Grandmother's ring. How
great it was that she handed it down, that I could give it to you.
So, I wanted something you could hand down. Our first heirloom,
I guess." He took the necklace out of the box and carefully put it
around her neck. The diamonds caught the firelight and danced
little highlights off her face. "You can give it to our little girl when
she's all grown up. If you want to part with it, of course," he
teased.

She touched the necklace loveingly and then wrapped her arms
around the man she loved. "She'll look gorgeous in it, Daddy."

the end, for now.>

>