Date: 27 Dec 2002 01:07:27 -0000
By Her Side:  Christmas Story part 1 by Vickie Moseley


Reply To: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com


Title:  By Her Side:  A Christmas Story
Author:  Vickie Moseley
Summary:  Bill Scully gets more than he bargained 
for as he hosts Christmas for his now extended 
family.
Rating:  PG-13 (R for one naughty word)
Category:  H, MSM (married Mulder and Scully), 
(please note this story totally disregards anything 
that happened in Season 9.  It is 
Doggett/Reyes/Season 9-free)
Spoiler:  Existence, Dead/Alive, By Her Side stories 
Disclaimer:  I'm still not making money from this 
and I didn't even watch season 9 (except for The 
Truth).  Ten-thirteen still owns the character names 
and all action figures.
Archive:  yes
Comments:  This is the next installment in the By 
Her Side Series, where I make Bill Scully, Jr. into a 
somewhat loveable, three-dimensional asshole as 
opposed to the one dimension asshole he is 
portrayed on the show.  It does mention my other 
'wedding story', "Mother of the Bride" which, along 
with the rest of the series, can be found on my 
website.
http://vickiemoseley.freeservers.com
Dedication:  to all the very sweet people who have 
asked for this series to continue.  I think I've got my 
inspiration back now.  
Thanks to Susan, dtg, Sally, Theresa, Dawn and 
Suzanne for keeping me sane.

By Her Side:  A Christmas Story
By Vickie Moseley

Part one:  The Bar

San Diego, CA
December 24, 2001
1:45 pm
 
I should have stayed out on the ship.  I see that now.  
I had the chance to go out on the very next day, but 
noooo, I'm Mr. Family Man.  I could have cruised 
the South Pacific, stopping at Honolulu, Tahiti, 
Melbourne.  But no, I had to tell my Captain that I 
had a wife and a son waiting.  I had to tell him, 
happily, might I add, how my family likes to get 
together at the holidays and this year it was our turn 
to play host.  I had to tell him that I was actually 
looking forward to some time stateside.

I know why Dad was out on the sea so much.  He 
was a very smart man and he'd never even heard of 
Fox Mulder.

So, we pulled into port on November 30.  I missed 
Thanksgiving, but my loving wife Tara more than 
made up for it with a blow out dinner that was way 
more than just the three of us could ever consume.  
Of course, I needed the protein after the workout 
she had put me through.  She's gotten so good at 
these homecomings.  I thought, with the addition of 
Matty to our little domicile, that homecomings 
would be more, shall I say 'tame' than they were 
when it was just Tara welcoming me home.  But the 
woman is a genius.  She plans sleepovers for Matty 
for the first night I'm home.  The kid's only 4, it's 
not like he doesn't get just as excited to see me 18 
hours after I really arrive.  In the meantime, well, I 
figured out that this stint on shore duty would 
include shopping for a new mattress on one of my 
days off.  We busted a few springs on the old one.

But back to the story.  Like I said, Tara had 
Thanksgiving all ready for me on December 1.  A 
week late, but none the poorer, believe me.  She got 
an 18 pound bird, stuffed it with oysters, 
cranberries, bread I'm sure she made herself.  And 
that wasn't the half of it.  Sweet potato casserole 
that melted in my mouth, mashed potatoes 
swimming in the richest giblet gravy ever to grace a 
Scully table (God forbid Mom ever hears me say 
this, but Tara's gravy runs rings around hers, I 
swear!), green beans, corn, every olive I could hope 
to encounter.  For dessert, she brought out a 10 inch 
pumpkin pie with real whipped cream.  For three 
people!  It was almost criminal.

Actually, it was criminal.  It was deliberate, 
premeditated and I'm pretty sure illegal in least 28 
states.  The woman drugged me.  Yes, I say it here, 
she drugged me.  That stupid drug in turkey that 
renders you sleepy and content and willing to agree 
to anything.  She used it to coerce me into agreeing 
to something that I never would have agreed to in a 
million years!  

I remember the conversation like it was yesterday, 
even though it was just four weeks ago.  I was 
sitting in my reclining chair, watching the Chargers 
game and thinking life did not get any better.  Matty 
was playing with some stuffed animal that looked 
like a fuzzy blue-green monster with purple spots 
and being quiet, an almost unheard of occurrence 
since I'd come home.  And Tara was doing 
something in the kitchen, though I couldn't tell you 
what because Matty and I had cleared the table and 
loaded the dishwasher. 

The phone rang.  I figured if it was important, or for 
me, she'd call me into the kitchen to take it.  But she 
left me to the game, which suited me just fine.  A 
few minutes later, she came in and crawled in next 
to me on the reclining chair.  

I glanced over at Matty, but relaxed because he was 
all caught up talking to some invisible guy named 
"Mike" about someone named "Boo" and wasn't 
paying attention to us at all.  Besides, we're a 
family.  We snuggle all the time.  It's not like I was 
going to strip Tara right there and we'd do it in front 
of the kid.  Or at least that's what I thought until I 
felt Tara's nimble little tongue lapping at my ear.

That's something else for the court documents.  She 
drugged me AND seduced me.  And right during a 
crucial football game!  I was just about to either 
stop her or send the kid upstairs, when she settled 
down again and started watching the game.

Oh, I thought.  We're playing that game.  OK, I was 
fine with that.  Tara would get me all, well, you 
know, and then when we finally got Matty to sleep, 
we'd use that lock on our bedroom door Tara made 
me install years ago and I would get breakfast in 
bed in the morning.  Yes siree Bob, life didn't get 
better!

Then she started to talk.  She knows that I only half 
listen when I'm watching a game.  I pick up on key 
words, like 'buy', 'sell', or 'doctor', but the rest of the 
dictionary just sort of floats through my ears.  I 
remember vaguely nodding once or twice and that's 
the extent of it.

Next morning, as she placed the tray with eggs over 
easy and those really great little sausage links on 
my lap, she hit me with the bombshell.

"So, I called Mom and Dana and it's all arranged.  
We can use St. Mary's, I'll call them this morning 
and I think I'll call that bakery in Horton Plaza for 
the cake.  Of course, we can't do it on Christmas 
morning, that would be just too much, but I think 
we could get the little chapel around 5 o'clock on 
Christmas Eve.  If no one else has it by now, that is.  
But then, this is San Diego, there has to be a church 
available, right?"

I had my mouth full by this time, and was searching 
for a way to clear it.  The coffee cup was there, and 
I grabbed it and gulped.   Big mistake.  Tara likes 
her coffee just a few degrees below nuclear 
meltdown.  I burned all the skin off the inside of my 
mouth.  

"Church?  Cake?  What the hell are you babbling 
about, woman??"  That's what I meant to say.  It 
didn't come out quite that clear.  It sounded more 
like 'Thurth, thake, wha' th' heww are you babblin' 
'bout, woman?' but she seemed to understand.

"Fox and Dana's wedding, silly!  Remember, I 
asked you about it last night.  You said you thought 
it was a great idea!"

I reran my memory of the entire night.  At one point 
I remember Tara asking me if I wanted a beer.  
She'd said something else, something before that, 
but I hadn't really answered.  At the time, I thought 
the beer was a great idea.  Ohmigod!

"Tara, I never said anything about a wedding!  
Besides, they got married.  Justice of the peace or 
whatever."

"A judge.  At the courthouse.  Bill, what kind of 
wedding is that?  I mean, just your mom and their 
boss there, that's not a wedding.  It's a . . . a . . . well 
I don't know what it is, but it's not a wedding!"

"Tara, they have a kid, for cripes sakes!  It's not like 
she can go down the aisle in a big white dress.  
They were probably too embarrassed to have a 
church wedding."

Lucky thing I was holding my coffee cup, or it 
would have been in my lap if the look Tara gave me 
was any warning.

"Oh, and I suppose all those times in the back of 
your car were just 'practice sessions', right?  All the 
sex we had before we were married.  That was just, 
what, learning the ground rules, William Dennis 
Scully?"

"Matty was born a full 8 years after our wedding 
day, Tara Elizabeth, and you know it!"  I almost 
never use her full name, but she pissed me off.  
Besides, she used my full name first.

Apparently I pissed her off as well.  After a rather 
silent day, spent mostly avoiding her glaring looks, 
I sort of caved about dinnertime.  Besides, she'd 
made Matty mac and cheese for lunch and she 
knows I hate that stuff, so I figured it was more 
punishment for dinner if I didn't give in soon.

Which is why I'm standing in the middle of some 
uptown florist shop right now, on December 24, 
tossing about 350 bucks worth of soon to be dead 
flowers on my VISA account and once again 
cursing Fox Mulder and the horse he rode in on and 
I'm not referring to my sister!

At the tinkling bell behind me, I cringe.  I remember 
he said he wanted to look down the street at 
something.  Funny, he shows up right after I sign 
the charge slip.  Amazing how that works, isn't it?

"Bill, what the hell are we going to do with all these 
flowers?"

Well, if I weren't so pissed at the bastard, I would 
give him points for that question.  I'm wondering 
the same thing myself.

"Tara ordered them.  There's a bouquet for the altar, 
one for Mary's altar, one for the Nativity scene, 
flowers for Dana, for Tara and for Mom, then 
boutonnieres for you, me, Matty and one for little 
Bill . . ."

"Will," Mulder corrects me.

"Oh, yeah, for little Will, and then I think that one is 
supposed to be on the table at home."

"Christ, this must have cost a fortune!"

The man is astute.  But then, he was an FBI agent.  
A now 'unemployed' FBI agent.  Dana says he's got 
a book deal on the line and he's going to be teaching 
a class at Georgetown next semester, but for now, 
he stays home and watches little Bill, I mean Will, 
while she goes to work.  Oh, yeah, I've got one of 
those brothers-in-law.  I notice he doesn't reach for 
his wallet, but instead grabs one of the three large 
boxes of flowers and hefts it toward the door.

Yeah, one of those brothers-in-law.

I guess, in some ways, I should be grateful.  I mean, 
I have known for years that this asshole is the man 
with the keys to my little sister's heart.  And he's 
been falling all over himself in love with her for at 
least as long, longer if he's to be believed.  I know 
Mom never believed they would kiss, much less go 
so far as to have a baby together.  And get married?  
That was completely out of the picture.  So I should 
be tickled pink that they finally did the right thing, 
gave the kid a name and all that.

They did it already.  So why am I paying for them 
to go ahead and do it again?

"Bill, I have to say, I mean, this whole wedding and 
everything."

We are halfway to the car, and from the list I have, 
we have four more stops to make.  I'm feeling a 
little miffed, but hey, if the guy wants to finally 
cough up some cash, I can be big.

"I really wish you hadn't gone to all this trouble."

"Don't think anything of it, Mulder," I assure him.

"No, Bill, I mean I really wish you hadn't gone to 
all this trouble."

We're standing here in the middle of the frigging 
sidewalk on Christmas Eve and the asshole has me 
ready to punch his lights out.

"Are you saying you don't want to marry my 
sister?" I ask, trying real hard to keep my voice 
down as the last minute shoppers hurry past us.

"Bill, I already married your sister.  I married her 
six months ago.  I just sort of hoped to avoid all the, 
you know, other stuff."

Now I get it.  He wanted to avoid the whole 'church' 
thing.  Oh, boy.  That takes the cake, that really 
takes the cake.  Well, Mister, let me tell you one 
thing . . .

"Well, Mulder, let me tell you one thing, you are 
going to go through with this and you're gonna like 
it, get that?  Because if you ever-"

He grabs my arm and propels me down the street.  
Suddenly, we're both inside this little corner bar, the 
kind the shiny new Marine Corps boots hit the 
minute they graduate before they start weapons 
school.  Dark, nice wood, but the smell of beer and 
urine is unmistakable.  My kind of bar.  He pushes 
me to the counter and plops down on a bar stool, 
glaring at me until I follow.

"Two Rolling Rocks and two shots of Jack 
Daniels," he tells the bartender.  Then he turns to 
me.  "What are you having?"

I suppress the nervous giggle that is threatening to 
come out of my mouth.  Oh great.  Now he's going 
to get drunk before the wedding.  Flashes of the last 
time Mulder and I tied one on come back to me.  I 
remember a hospital came into play at some point . . 
.
"I'm just kidding, Bill.  Geez, get a grip.  You like 
JD, right?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," I reply.  The bartender sets the 
two shot glasses and two beers in front of us.  
Mulder picks up his shot glass, stares at the 
reflection of himself in the mirror behind the bar 
and holds the glass aloft.

"To women, especially the ones dumb enough to 
marry us," he proclaims and downs the shot in one 
gulp.

Well, I see no argument in that toast, so I second it.  
"To dumb women."  Then it occurs to me he just 
called my sister and my wife stupid.  I'm seeing red 
again.

"Bill, relax, it was a joke.  I know Dana and Tara 
aren't dumb.  They're saints, they're the mothers of 
our children, they'll probably end up in some history 
book for their bravery and steadfastness, at least 
your sister sure will.  But look at us.  We're hardly 
the catches of the season."

"OK, I'll give you that one," I tell him grudgingly.

It's my turn.  I tap the countertop and the bartender 
is there, Jack in hand.  He pours two more shots and 
goes back to watching his soap opera on the 
television.  I raise the glass, nod to Mulder's 
reflection in the mirror and give my toast.

"To fatherhood."

He nods a bit and downs his drink again, in one 
gulp.  I'm starting to feel that really nice burn in the 
pit of my stomach, but hope we manage to get to the 
beers now.

"I love being a father," he says, turning the glass 
over upside down on the bar.  "I wake up every 
morning and just go into his room and watch him 
sleep.  He doesn't sleep much past the minute I get 
in there, but for just a few seconds . . ."

My eyes are burning, must be the left over smoke in 
the bar.  "Yeah," I say.  "I do that with Matty 
sometimes.  When I'm not out in the middle of the 
ocean someplace."  That sounded like regret in my 
voice.  I didn't mean it to, but Mulder picks up on it, 
too.

"It's a hard job you've chosen.  I don't know how 
you do it," he says and when I look at him, I can tell 
he's not bullshitting me.  He means what he says.

"You're the one who had the hard job," I huff back.  
"You got killed."  Opps, I didn't mean to bring that 
up.

But he takes it in stride, picks up his beer and takes 
a sip.  "Yeah.  It's been a bitch.  I don't remember 
my funeral, but the headstone was real classy.  Gave 
a nice set of new nightmares to Scully."

Now he's the one with regret in his voice.  "That 
little guy she carried off the plane sure made up for 
a lot of that," I tell him, nudging him in the ribs 
with my elbow.

"But I still have a lot of making up to do.  That's 
why I agreed to this.  I have a lot to make up for.  I 
just wish."   He swallows what he was going to say 
around another sip of beer.

"It's the church thing, isn't it?" I ask him.

He shakes his head slowly, staring at some spot of 
air between the bar and the shelf of bottles behind 
it.  "No, not really.  I mean, Will's baptism didn't 
bother me at all."

I missed the baptism.  I was somewhere off the 
coast of Sitka if I remember correctly.

"I just wish we could have done it right the first 
time," he goes on, regardless of if I'm listening or 
not.  "I wanted to marry her a long time ago.  That 
stupid ass job and that fucking Bureau . . . no, I 
can't even really blame that.  I was a coward.  Plain 
and simple."

"Dana wasn't ready to marry you yet, either.  Have 
you thought about that?"

That statement sort of catches him off guard.  He 
stares at me, and I know I better back up what I'm 
saying.

"Tara and Dana talk all the time.  And right before 
you were, uh, you disappeared, Tara said Dana was 
happier than she'd ever been.  Tara brought up the 
idea of you two finally settling down together, I 
mean, making it legal and all and you know what 
Dana told her?"

He shakes his head at me, mesmerized by my story.

"She said 'we're so far past that point, Tara.  We 
don't need to make it legal.'  That's what she said.  
So if you'd come to her and proposed, to her, it 
would have been a mistake, a step back.  She wasn't 
ready to see the advantages of being married."

"We've always made decisions together," he assures 
me.  "But not like now.  Not where to live and 
whether I go with one publisher or another one.  It's 
different."

"See, the way I see it, you two had, oh, what did 
they call it, a common law marriage.  You had that 
for a long time.  But you have to consider little Will 
now.  That's what made the difference."

"I know, Bill, I know.  But I really hoped I wouldn't 
have my son attending my wedding," he says with a 
sigh, finishing off the beer.

"Look at it this way.  At least you're marrying his 
mother," I shoot back with a grin.

"At least she'll have me.  Twice."

"If I were to ask Tara to marry me again, on certain 
days at certain times. . ."

He interrupts me.  "She'd do it again, Bill, and you 
know it."

I nod in acceptance.  "Yeah.  I do."  We're quiet for 
a minute, each inspecting our beers and the counter 
of the bar.  It's been a question that's been eating me 
for so long that I almost don't realize it slips out of 
my mouth.

"So how the hell did I get a nephew?"

Beer spurts from his lips, but not enough to call it a 
loss and he chokes down what's left in his mouth.

"I should have known not to get you around beer, 
Scully," he growls.  He wipes his mouth on a 
nearby cocktail napkin and shakes his head as he 
looks at me.  Right now, I'm pretty sure he'd bust 
me in the chops if he didn't have to face my wife 
and my mother when he left this place.

"Do you want to know the specific position, or just 
the general working principles?" he asks, in that 
smart ass voice of his.

I get to growl this time.  "She was barren," I remind 
him.  "She couldn't have kids.  That was the whole 
point of that little girl."

"Emily," he reminds me with an undeserved glare.

"Yeah, Emily."  I still think it's crazy, but Tara takes 
flowers out to the grave every holiday.  Dana asked 
her to do that, I know, but why should my wife get 
stuck putting flowers on some kid's grave that 
wasn't even really part of our family?  And Tara 
yells at me that I don't get it every time I try to bring 
that up so I've learned to just keep my mouth shut.  
"Face it, she couldn't have kids and now you have 
one.  How?"

He's chewing his lip, and I'm pretty sure he's not 
going to tell me.  Then he looks at me for a minute, 
and I can actually see him change his mind right 
there in his eyes.  "She wanted a child."

"You guys aren't married, well, you weren't at the 
time," I point out, rather reasonably, I think.

"But we couldn't.  Not and stay partners.  So she 
wanted a child.  And a doctor told her there was a 
chance with IVF.  So we tried."

"And that's how you got Will?"

"No," he says with this shit-eating grin.

"No?" I ask.  What the hell is he talking about?

"It didn't work.  She didn't get pregnant.  So we 
gave up.  She never mentioned it again.  We went 
back to the way things were . . ."

"Having sex every other minute," I nod.  It sure as 
hell seemed that way the last time I saw them.

"Hardly," he tells me with icicles hanging off every 
letter.  "So, anyway, we went back to the way things 
were.  No more little plastic cups for me.  No more 
doctors for her.  And then . . ."  He just stops.  He 
doesn't say anything.

"You took off," I supply.  It was what I always 
suspected.

He laughs.  A full belly laugh.  He waves over the 
bartender and taps at his empty beer bottle.  Another 
full one appears on the counter.  He downs about 
half of it.

"Yeah, Bill.  I took off.  I just walked out to Oregon 
and stuck my thumb out and the nearest spaceship 
just gave me a lift.  That's exactly what happened."

I nod for a second.  The spaceship story again.  
Dana had told Tara something like that but of 
course, she was pregnant at the time so I ignored it.  
Hormones do terrible things to pregnant women.

"You were dead when you came back," I point out.  
He was, too.  I didn't get to the funeral, but Mom 
did and she even helped Dana pick out the suit the 
bastard wore in the casket.   Dead and buried and 
that was the end of it.  I never knew how to feel 
after I got the news.  In one respect, I was sort of 
happy that chapter of Dana's life was over.  He'd 
caused her so much pain and anguish, running off 
when she got pregnant like he did.  If he turned up 
dead, who was I to care?  But Tara told me, in no 
uncertain words, that he didn't know she was 
pregnant when he left.  So why did he leave?  The 
man I saw a few years back would never have left 
my sister.  

"I didn't leave her on purpose."  

I hate it when he reads my mind like that, but he 
just keeps going.  

"I didn't want to leave.  Bill, I know you have no 
reason to believe that, but if you've ever thought for 
one minute that I love your sister, you have to 
understand that I did not leave her of my own free 
will.  I was taken away from her.  Believe whatever 
you want.  Believe it was aliens or believe it was 
terrorists, I don't give a damn.  Just know for a fact 
that I would have done anything to come back to 
her that night and she was my only thought all the 
time I was away from her."

"OK, maybe I can buy that.  But Mulder, you were 
dead," I remind him.  Just in case it slipped his 
memory for a minute.  God, I can't imagine what it 
would have been like to be in that casket all those 
months . . .

"I wasn't really dead.  I was . . . very sick.  What 
they did to me left me near death, yes.  But I wasn't 
dead.  I didn't 'rise from the dead', Bill.  Skinner, 
our boss, saw something that made him put two and 
two together.  He's the one who dug me up, got me 
to the hospital.  But it was Scully, your sister, who 
saved me.  She cured me.  She brought me all the 
way back to life.  Just like she always does."

We hear the bell on the door as it opens and the 
bright light of the sun floods the room for an 
instant.  When our eyes adjust, we see our wives 
standing just inside the door.

"I told you to look for the nearest bar, Tara," my 
dainty sister says as she saddles up to the counter 
and plops down next to her husband.  She picks up 
the shot glass, examines it like it was some guy's 
spleen, and sets it down on the counter again.  The 
bartender is standing at attention, waiting to call the 
cops.  "Give me what they're having."

"Me too," says Tara, hopping up to sit on the stool 
next to me.  "I saw the flowers, at least you didn't 
forget what we sent you out for," she directs at me 
with a little glare.

"Hey, this wasn't my idea," I object.

"It was mine, Tara.  I decided I needed a bachelor 
party.  I didn't get one last time."

"As I remember," my sister pipes in.  "The Gunmen 
took you out to Casey's and you had a round."

Mulder looks over at me and puts his hand on my 
shoulder.  "Yeah, but my best man wasn't there," he 
grins broadly and sips at the shot the bartender just 
poured him.  Best man?  I mean, yeah, I'm standing 
up for them, but Best Man?  Who'd have thought!  
Guess the first two drinks mellowed him out a bit.  
Mellowed us both out a bit, the thought isn't as 
disgusting as it once would have been.

"Are Will and Matty with Mom?" I ask, trying to 
hide my embarrassment at our newfound 'closeness'.

"No, we duck taped them in the closet," Dana 
replies dry as sand.  "Of course Mom's with them.  
When you two didn't come back when you were 
supposed to, Tara and I decided we better go look 
for you."

"Sorry," we both say as one.  

Dana starts to pull out her wallet to pay the tab, but 
Mulder stops her by tossing a Gold Amex on the 
counter.  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.  
Hey, wait.  I thought they were broke!

"You need to pay Bill for the flowers.  I forgot to 
bring the checkbook, and he'd already paid when I 
caught up with him," he tells her as he helps her 
down from the stool.

"I already handled that.  I paid Tara for everything 
at lunch," she informs him.  She turns to give him a 
look.  "Why weren't you at the florist with him?"  

I recognize that tone in her voice.  Somebody's got 
some 'splainin' to do.

"You'll see, later," he tells her.

She gives him a look and then . . . lets it drop.  I 
have to remember how he did that.  But then, it is 
Christmas Eve.  Dana was always a horrible snoop 
at Christmas, but maybe being married with a kid 
has mellowed her, too.  

Tara is checking her watch.  "Judging from the 
backseat of the car, you haven't made it to the 
bakery, the rental store to pick up the punch bowl or 
the dry cleaners.  And we have exactly three hours 
until we have to be at the Church.  The only way 
we'll get this done is to split up the errands.  Fox 
and Dana, you do the punch bowl, I showed you 
where the rental place was right by the house, 
right?"  Dana nods, I sit there in awe.  "Good.  OK, 
Bill and I will get the cake and run past the cleaners.  
We'll all meet at the house at 15:30.  Any 
questions?"

"I thought you were the one in the Navy," Mulder 
mutters in my direction.

"So did I," I return, but before I get the words out, 
his wife has him by the arm and my wife has me by 
the arm and we are out the door and on the road.

End of part one, continued in part two

Part two
The Church
16:55 hours
St. Mary's Catholic Church

I have to admit, Tara knocked herself out.  The little 
chapel is full of all those flowers that were in the 
back of our van.  Candles are all over the place, 
because, well, it is Christmas Eve.  This chapel 
won't get much use tonight, Midnight Mass is in the 
main sanctuary, but it looks none the less festive for 
the season.  The little Nativity has Matty wide-eyed 
and actually quiet, for once.  Even little Will seems 
to think it's pretty cool, bouncing on Mom's lap.  
She looks good with grandchildren.  I wish we 
could give her more.  But I guess Matty and Will 
will have to do until Charlie starts holding up his 
end of the bargain.

Tara and Dana are in the women's restroom, doing 
God knows what to Dana's hair.  Tara's been a 
frustrated hairdresser for as long as I've known her.  
She'd be a good one, too, if she ever decided to do 
it.  She just hates the smell of those stupid 
chemicals.  Come to think of it, I hate it, when she 
gets her hair permed or whatever and I'm forced to 
sleep in the same bed as 'Bride of Frankenstein'.  
Oh, God, don't ever let her hear me say that.

Well, tonight, it's Mulder sleeping with Bride of 
Frankenstein.  But for the moment, he looks . . .

This is so funny!  Here he is, he's been married to 
her for six months now, and he's the picture of a 
nervous groom.  His hair is sticking up from the 
five hundred times he's run his fingers through it.  
The jacket to his tux is bunched up on his shoulders, 
again an effect of moving his arms up too high.  
And what has he done with that cummerbund?  So 
help me God, if he lost that damned thing and we 
have to pay for it.  Wait, what am I saying?  He can 
pay for the whole goddamned monkey suit, from 
what I gathered this afternoon.  OK, let him lose the 
cummerbund.  Hell, it's not my money.

But there is no way I'm going out at 5:00 on 
Christmas Eve to find him another one!

"Mulder, man, what did you do with the rest of the 
tux?" I ask, trying to keep the frustration out of my 
voice.

"Huh?"  So much for an Oxford education, 
apparently.  

"The tux, man.  The cummerbund to the tux.  Where 
is it?"

He looks down at his waist, as if it will magically 
sport the missing piece of fabric.  Then he looks up 
at me, stricken.  "I . . . I don't know."

I nod, trying to keep what little patience I still have 
in check.  "OK, did you have it with you in the 
restroom?" I ask.  When did I start sounding less 
like me and more like Dad on Easter Sunday when I 
couldn't find my left shoe?

"I think I did.  I don't know.  Are you sure it came 
with one?" he asks.  This man was a top profiler?  
This man watched my sister's back for 9 years?  
Shesh!

"Let's look, shall we?" I offer and guide him toward 
the men's room.  Luckily, we're alone, so we don't 
look quite like the dorks we are as we check the 
stalls and under the sinks.  Finally, he spots the 
hanger on the back of the door.  The cummerbund is 
still hanging on the hanger.  At least it's not on the 
floor of one of the stalls.

"I just . . . I don't know what's wrong with me," 
Mulder tells me as I watch him try to get the 
cummerbund around his waist.  He can't seem to get 
the hang of the fastener.  I give up and go around to 
help him.

"It's nerves, Mulder.  Every groom has 'em."

"But the second time around, and to the same 
woman?" he asks.

The cummerbund is in place, I straighten the jacket 
and hand him a comb, pointing toward the mirror on 
the wall.

"Sure.  What is a wedding, anyway?  A big show.   
Who doesn't get nervous the night of a big show?"

"It's not just a show," he reminds me as he tries to 
tame the wild thing on his head.  Man, I wish my 
genes had that many follicles.

"Mulder, you don't love her any less right now than 
you will after you say 'I do', again," I remind him 
right back.  

"I couldn't possibly love her any more than I do," he 
agrees.  Finally, he decides to give up on the hair.  
He looks at himself in the mirror.  I shoot him a 
smile and a nod.  Just like Dad did to me at my 
wedding.

"Ready to get this show on the road?" I ask him.

He blinks and for a moment, he turns a little green.  
Oh shit, what did I say?  But he recovers quickly 
and gives me a weak smile.

"Yeah, let's do it."

I nod and head out the door, fighting the urge to 
look over my shoulder and make sure he's following 
me.

The little chapel looks great.  The sun has set 
outside, and even though it's a balmy 67 degrees, I 
can almost believe it could snow tonight.  Christmas 
snow.  I know it's pretty silly of me, considering we 
really didn't have much Christmas snow when I was 
growing up, definitely not when Dad was at 
Miramar, or when we were in Pensacola.  But the 
two years at Great Lakes we had snow each year 
and I think those are the Christmases I always 
remember from my childhood.

Matty sees me and yells out 'Hi, Daddy!' before 
Mom gets a chance to shush him.  On most 
Sundays, this chapel gets double duty as a cry room 
and he's used to talking back here.  He tries to 
explain that to Mom, but she shushes him right back 
and I have to hide my laugh when Matty gets the 
same look we used to get every time we acted up in 
Church.  

Will, on the other hand, is mesmerized by the 
candlelight and looks about ready to drift off.  I 
know Dana fed him before we left for the church, so 
he's probably not going to last long.

I look at Father Dannon, the young priest here at St. 
Mary's.  He's a good guy, about Charlie's age.  
We've talked a time or two after Mass when I'm on 
leave.  I like him and I'm glad he's the one doing 
this.  Old Father Sullivan would have said 
something about 'carts before horses' when he got 
wind of the circumstances.  Dana doesn't need to 
hear that, not after what they've been through.

And speak of the devil, or in this case, my sister, 
here she comes.  Tara said they found the perfect 
dress, white, sleeveless, a v neckline that I would 
have choked at if it had been my bride coming 
down the aisle.  I glance over at Mulder and see the 
appreciation in his eyes, too.  It's funny, I've known 
for so long that they've been in love, but it never 
occurred to me how much in love they really are.  I 
shoot a smile to Tara, who's just made it to the front 
of the church right before Dana.  She smiles back.  I 
guess we're still that much in love, too.

Father Dannon smiles at everyone and the 
ceremony gets started.  Amazingly, Matty doesn't 
say a peep after the initial warnings from Mom.  I 
wish she'd teach that trick to Tara.  And as I 
expected, when I have a chance to look behind us, 
Will is sound asleep in his carrier, none the wiser 
that he's witnessing a very important occasion.  So 
basically, Mulder's getting his wish, too.

When Father Dannon asks them to exchange rings, I 
remember that Dana had already given me her 
wedding band to give to Mulder.  I start to pull it 
out of my pocket, but Mulder shakes his head and 
pulls something out of his inside jacket pocket 
instead.  I only see it for a second as he slides it on 
his finger, but the whole ring is encircled with 
diamonds and sparkles enough to light up a battle 
cruiser.

Dana was looking at their hands and when this new 
ring appears she jerks her head up to meet Mulder's 
eyes.  For a second I almost feel sorry for the guy.  
If looks could kill, I'd back up to be out of the blast 
zone.  But then he smiles at her and tilts his head 
just a bit and she closes her eyes for a blink and 
replaces her fiery glare with the most beautiful 
smile I've ever seen on her face.  She nods to poor 
Father Dannon, who isn't quite sure what's going 
on, but doesn't want to add to any possible 
bloodshed.  In a shaky voice, the young Father 
finishes the ceremony.

They kiss, a most chaste kiss that promises to be 
more passionate when they get to the hotel later.  
That was Tara's idea, too.  She pointed out this 
would be the only Christmas when Will would be 
too little to notice his parent's absence, so they 
should take advantage of that and spend one 
honeymoon night together.  Mom told me earlier 
they didn't get that after the first wedding.  

We all stand around, kissing the bride, shaking 
hands with the groom, but it doesn't really take 
much time because it's just us and Charlie finally 
shows up, late as usual.

"I missed it, you'll have to do it again!" he declares 
as he waltzes in, sweeping Dana in to a hug and 
then Mulder, too.

"Not on your life!" Mulder tells him.  "Twice is 
enough."

"Not even on our 50th Anniversary, G-man?" Dana 
asks coyly.

He grins down at her and pulls her into his arms.  
"Ask me in 50 years."  The kiss he bends down to 
give her is anything but chaste and Mom clears her 
throat to break them up before things get out of 
hand.

"Let's get back to the house.  We have dinner, yet.  
And don't you even think of sneaking out on that, 
you two," she warns the newlyweds.

We gather up the boys, Mulder hefting the carrier in 
one hand and puts his other arm around Dana's 
shoulder.  "About these weddings, partner.  I liked 
the original, but the remix is good, too."  I have to 
swallow my laugh when she socks him right in the 
gut.

Tara, Mom and Dana had knocked themselves out 
while Mulder and I were playing at the florist and 
bar.  The house, which I hadn't really had a chance 
to notice before, looks like a Christmas wonderland.  
No, it looks like our house, when I was growing up.  
It looks beautiful and I make sure to tell my wife 
just how beautiful when we have a minute.

The buffet of food is excellent, too and a few of our 
neighbors are over to share in it.  Tara smiles at it 
all, she loves hosting parties.  Such a Naval wife.  
So much like Mom.  

I notice the punch bowl is empty after we've all had 
our fill of the ham, turkey and roast beef 
sandwiches and salads.  I go into the kitchen to mix 
up some more, maybe with a little more 'spice' this 
time.

I hear a high-pitched squeal that I know comes from 
Tara in the living room.  I almost drop the punch 
bowl to run in and see what's the matter.

As I get in the room, there is my wife, clinging to 
my brother-in-law for dear life, tears streaming 
down her face.  And right in front of me, she plants 
a hell of a kiss right on his mouth.

"I love you, you big lug!!  They are perfect, 
absolutely perfect!  Oh, god, if we hadn't gone to all 
this trouble, I'd marry you myself!"  And then she 
notices that I'm in the room.

There is complete silence for a few seconds.  I must 
be seventeen shades of red because my face feels 
like it's on fire.  Tara pushes herself away from 
Mulder and runs over to me, throwing her arms 
around my neck.  "Nah, on second thought, I'm 
sticking with my current model," she says and 
proceeds to stick her tongue very far down my 
throat.  

Whatever I was thinking is lost as I return the kiss 
and try to remember there are people in the room, 
cursing every one of them that I can't just tell my 
wife to ditch the party and let's get a room 
somewhere.  But I gain some brain cells as she 
slides down my side and holds a small box out for 
me to see.

Diamond earrings.  Something I could never afford 
on military pay.  

"They're from Mulder and Dana," she says with the 
biggest smile I could ever imagine another guy 
putting on her face.  Then she pulls me down and 
whispers in my ear "and the money we put out on 
this thing, it's all been covered.  Plus, next leave, we 
have plane tickets home and an offer to babysit 
Matty while you and I spend a few days at Mulder's 
summer house in Rhode Island!"  Her eyes are 
twinkling so bright, she looks like a miniature 
Christmas tree.

I look over at Mulder and he just shrugs.  "It's there, 
if you want it."

I keep a smile plastered on my face and nod.  The 
son of a bitch.  He's loaded after all.  The ring on 
Dana's finger almost blinds me when it catches the 
lights of the tree and now the earrings in my wife's 
ears are causing the jets at the base to confuse our 
living room for the landing strip.

I look over at Mom, hoping for some moral support.  
That's when I catch the necklace she's wearing.  Not 
diamonds this time, thank god.  The room can't 
stand any more brilliance.  No, my mother is 
sporting a perfectly matched set of pearls.  They are 
beautiful.  And I know where they came from.

I search for any scrap of calm I can find in the pit of 
my stomach.  So this is what I'm in for.  A lifetime 
of being out 'Jonesed' at every family gathering.  A 
lifetime of hearing 'Mulder gave Dana this and 
Mulder gave William that'.  Or worse yet, maybe 
even the ego-crushing 'why can't you provide for 
Tara like Mulder provides for Dana!'  I can feel the 
50-year migraine starting just behind my left eye.

"Bill, where's the punch?" Tara asks as she showing 
off her earrings to our next-door neighbors.

"Oh, yeah, punch," I mumble and beat a hasty 
retreat into the kitchen.

I hear the door swing and don't bother to turn 
around.  "I've got it, Tara.  I couldn't find the new 
bottle of 7-Up."

"It's not Tara, Bill."  Oh shit, it's Mulder.  But I 
keep my face steady.  The bastard just gave my wife 
and mother at least a couple thousand dollars worth 
of presents, I can be grateful.  Can't I?

"Bill, I, uh, what Tara said back there," he 
mumbles.

I refuse to let this discussion happen.  He's got 
money, I don't.  Big deal.  It's not the end of the 
world.  

"It's OK, Mulder.  You gave some terrific presents 
tonight.  She got a little overwhelmed.  No big 
deal," I say, making sure my hands are occupied 
with pouring fruit punch and 7-Up into the cut glass 
bowl.  Cut glass.  Damn, even the punch bowl is 
depressing me now.

"Bill, can I be honest with you?"

I really don't want to look at the guy right now, but I 
can't exactly shove past him with the punch bowl.  
It would end up on both of us.  So I turn, wiping my 
hands on a dishtowel.

"Bill, I probably should have told you that I was 
getting Tara those earrings.  For all I know, you're 
giving her a set just like them."

I snort.  Not at my pay grade.

"I just wanted both of you to know how much I 
appreciate all that you've done for us.  You didn't 
have to plan all this.  It's been a really wonderful 
ceremony for Dana.  She wanted a church wedding 
the first time, but it didn't turn out that way.  You've 
given her something I couldn't give her.  I just 
wanted to find a way to repay you."

I can't help myself, it just blurts out.  "By giving my 
wife earrings I could never afford to give her?"

Mulder closes his eyes for a second, like he hadn't 
given it any thought at all until this moment.  "I, I 
never meant . . . Bill, in my family, money was 
never a problem.  You've seen how I live.  I buy 
expensive suits because they fit better.  If we 
weren't living in Dana's apartment, Will would be 
growing up in a one-bedroom fourth floor with an 
elevator that runs half the time.  Money really 
doesn't mean that much to me.  I'm sorry if I made 
you feel uncomfortable.  I'll try to remember it in 
the future."  

His hand comes out and I'm now forced to make a 
decision.

He's not the man I hated for so long.  I got over that.  
He's not my sister's lover.  I was able to ignore all 
that.  No, this man is now my brother, that's just 
how our family is.  And just as Charlie can drive me 
crazy at times, like when he shows up after our 
sister's wedding, well, this man is likely to drive me 
crazy at times, too.

But that's how brothers are.  That's what family is.  
The warts, the Jonesing, the whole nine yards. 

I take his hand and shake it firmly.  "Just keep the 
earrings to under 500 next time," I tell him sternly.

He laughs, a relieved laugh if I can judge by the 
sound of it.  At that moment, Dana comes through 
the doorway.

"Will is asleep, I just fed him again.  If we leave 
now . . ."

"Right there," he tells her with a wink.  "Just one 
more thing."

"OK, I'll get our sweaters.  It's turned chilly out 
there."

"Well, Bill," Mulder says, shrugging his shoulder 
while digging in his pants pocket.  "I guess I should 
take these back and exchange them for something a 
little less showy, huh?"

I look at him in confusion.  He pulls out season 
tickets for the San Diego Chargers.  I can see the 
seats.  These are _really_ good seats!  I snatch the 
tickets out of his hand and pull him into a bear hug.

"Damn, Mulder, if you weren't married to my sister, 
I'd tell Tara we'd have to make it a threesome!"

And turn around to see my wife, my mother and my 
sister all staring at us from the doorway of the 
kitchen.

"Mulder, it's time to go," Dana says coolly.  Mom 
and Tara look like they're about to burst.

"Yeah, sure, ready when you are, babe," he tells her 
and goes over to give Mom a kiss on the cheek and 
then looks back to me.  I nod and he gives Tara a 
kiss on the cheek, too.

Tara and I walk them to the door.  "Mulder, about 
what I said in the kitchen," I tell him as they start to 
head for their rental car.

"Yeah?" he turns to look at me.

"You can go higher, if the mood hits."

His grin is worth it.  Everything I've been through 
this day and to come.

We wave as they get in the car and drive off.  Tara 
gives me a hug and walks with me back into the 
house.  Before we rejoin the party, she pulls me 
down to give me a kiss.  I have to admit, the 
earrings look perfect on her. 

"What was that with Mulder?" she asks.

I can look innocent when I want to.  "Just a thing 
between brothers," I assure her.

I have one of _those_ brothers-in-law.  And I 
wouldn't change him for the world.

The end.