From: Ten <kristena@ocean.com.au>
Date: Thu, 26 Dec 2002 20:17:07 +1100
Subject: "New Millennium: The Calm Before the Storm" (1/1) by Ten (R)
Source: xff


TITLE: "New Millennium: The Calm Before the Storm" (1/1)
BY: Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY: V; Angst; MSR (Married); AU
RATING: R (for consensual adult situations that are not described
in blow-by-blow detail. Sorry <G>)
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully go househunting, blissfully unaware
that the events of 'Requiem' are looming.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: References to "Requiem", "Millennium",
"Sein Und Zeit/Closure", "Patient X/The Red and the Black" and
"Hollywood AD".
This is part of the "New Millennium" series by Vickie Moseley and
me, which goes into alternate universe after 'Millennium'.
Not every season seven episode occurs in this alternate universe
(examples being 'En Ami', 'all things', 'Brand X' and 'Je
Souhaite'), and in some the events occur differently than shown on
the screen. This story can be read on its own, but the rest are at
Ten's website (see below).
ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be archived
anywhere as long as our names, addys and disclaimer stay intact.
FEEDBACK: Love it.
THANKS TO: Vickie, Gerry, Sally and Suzanne.

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

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


"New Millennium: The Calm Before the Storm" (1/1)
Written 4-6 July to December 2002

xXx

Late May 2000:

I feel like I am going to explode. Well, not in the way that I
want to. It's been a week since I've had that pleasure - or rather
that my husband has *given* me the pleasure.

The only exploding I seem close to doing is of frustration and
exhaustion.

Mom has been sick with pneumonia - fortunately she didn't need to
be hospitalized, but it meant that Mulder and I have been staying
at her house and taking care of her. Mulder was going into work
each weekday until a few days ago, but I took leave to be there
for Mom full time. Then Mulder would relieve me in the evening and
we're both on alert at night.

'Good practice for parenthood,' I wanted to joke, but didn't dare.
One day. We're going to make another appointment with our
fertility 'case manager' soon, to get things underway.

Then a few days ago Mulder took time off to go up to Greenwich and
finalize the sale of his mother's house.

So it has been a hectic and very tiring rush of days. And suddenly
I look back and realize that a whole week has gone. A whole week
of no sex.

Before New Year's Day, I was completely used to that. Hell, YEARS
of no sex. But then Mulder had to show me what I was missing. And
turn me into a screamer. The man's touch in turning the ordinary
into the extraordinary extends to many levels.

We've been so busy rushing around on either work or errands or the
sale or looking after Mom... Nursing someone with pneumonia is by
its very nature a desire-killer. Poor Mom can't help it, of
course. When I do get to bed of a night, all I want to do is
sleep. And when Mom is asleep and I've caught up on some rest or
chores, Mulder is often at work or asleep himself. Or away.

Plus getting up to mischief in my mother's house feels strange.
Even though Mulder and I are married, even though we have done it
before... But the latter *was* our wedding night and Mom was the
one who insisted that we stay over.

During the last week in the times where Mom was asleep and I was
alone and at a loose end, I'd house hunt on the net. After Teena
died, Mulder and I came to some decisions. We'd like to live in
Alexandria, at least for the next few years, and in a house, not
an apartment. Georgetown is too expensive.

We want to stay with the X-Files. We know what happened to
Samantha, but that doesn't answer everything else that has
happened or that could in the future.

Having chosen our courses of action, Mulder and I started driving
around, looking at houses, and working out what we both liked and
were looking for.

A townhouse.

Mulder said, "Us buying a house together - that could bring things
out into the open at work."

"It may not. No one has picked up on it yet, and Skinner is
keeping quiet on the subject. Besides, human resources would know
that our addresses have changed, but it would probably take a
human resource specialist with initiative - and you know how
unlikely THAT is - to do a cross check. You're a M, I'm a S, and
we're probably not even listed on the same server in an agency as
big as ours."

He smiles and nods at my logic.

"But if they do find out, then we can wear our rings all the time,
at last," I finish. It would also be lovely to wear the ring that
Teena bequeathed to me.

"And start calling each other by our first names," Mulder says. We
do sometimes, but we're keeping that for very private and intimate
moments. It feels right in those circumstances. And if we suddenly
started saying 'Fox' and 'Dana' in front of other people, that
would be a dead giveaway. My husband has always made my surname
sound like something special anyway.

If things do come out at work, then they do. We just didn't want
to run any unnecessary risk of being split up or give anyone any
ammunition against us. And the longer we can keep the secret, then
when it is revealed, we can say, 'We've been married since January
and have run the division perfectly well and professionally all
those months, so it hasn't adversely affected our performance. In
fact, our solve rate has gone up since our marriage.'

We're going to sell Bill Mulder's house on the Vineyard too. That
was Mulder's idea. He wants to keep the summer house though.
Somewhere for us to go and a link to his past that he does not
want to lose. All things considered, he has dealt with the
revelations about his sister and mother. The grieving process is
ongoing, but he has come to an acceptance.

The furniture we chose to keep from Teena's house is in storage at
the moment. We're going to wait until we get a house and then
decide on re-upholstery color schemes and materials.

And a few days ago, just after Mulder left for Greenwich, I came
across a townhouse that matches everything we want.

I printed out the photos and the details from the website and that
night read the description out to Mulder over the phone. "The
owners have already moved to another part of the country. It's
brick -"

"Cozy," he commented.

"Three stories. Open floor plan. A loft, deck, fenced backyard
with patio. Fireplace. Separate shower in master bedroom and
separate tub in master bedroom."

"Separate shower and tub will come in handy in getting ready for
work in the morning!"

I refrained from pointing out that my husband enjoys being able to
sleep late in the morning while waiting for me to finish in the
bathroom. Why did nature make it so much quicker for men? Not
fair.

"Walk-in closets..." I emphasized those words. I wouldn't have
been able to stop the sultry tone of my voice if I tried. Not that
I wanted to. When we were packing up Teena's house, what started
out as an upsetting task ended up leading to an incredible bout of
lovemaking in a walk-in closet. Then when we got back to D.C. I
pulled Mulder into my closet - hey, he started it last time! - and
although there was nowhere near as much room, straight up is just
as satisfying as horizontal... In many senses of the word.

Mulder moaned at reminder of the closet capers. "Scully, you're
killing me here..."

"Well, we can always -" I started leadingly, then broke off,
hearing noises coming from Mom's bedroom. "Oh, Mom's coughing. I'd
better go check on her."

"Give her my love. And set up an appointment to see that house."

xXx

The most important thing is that Mom is doing much better. I'm
starting to get my energy back too. And my sex drive, it would
seem...

It is early evening and my body is tingling, like it is crying out
for my husband's touch. It is so sensitive that I can feel the
texture of my clothes against my skin - normally something I don't
think about. Now they almost seem too much to bear.

The phone rings. Mulder's voice says, "It's me. How's Mom?"

"Much better. Looking forward to her friend coming. Will you still
be back tomorrow?"

"Yep. Flight should get me into D.C. around ten in the morning."

"Good, because I've made a tentative inspection appointment with
the real estate agent for 3.00 pm. It was the only time he's got
free, so I thought I'd better grab it. That gives us time once you
fly in to go back to the apartment and get reacquainted, then go
on to check out the house."

"Sounds good. Well, the 'get reacquainted' part sounds fantastic!
So Mrs. Judd is still set to look after Mom for the day?"

"Yep. Good to go." Mrs. Judd is a friend of Mom's - a retired
nurse. She phoned a few days ago to chat with Mom, not realizing
she was sick. Once she found out, the kind woman immediately
offered to help.

Then I tell Mulder about this strange sensation I've been getting.

His reaction is, "Either you're as horny as hell or..." Then his
voice gets worried. "It couldn't be the implant, could it? Like
the time you -"

Nearly got immolated on that bridge. "No. It's different to how I
felt that time the chip 'called' me," I reassure him. I hadn't
even thought of that possibility. Trust the worrier...

I'm full of so much energy... Even my opal ring - the one from
Teena - looks like it is glowing brighter than usual. I tell
Mulder this. "It's probably a trick of the light."

He says, "Body heat is supposed to bring out the brilliance of
opals, the sparkle. Sounds like you've got enough of that
happening at the moment."

The call doesn't last as long as either of us would like, as my
dinner is ready - and Mom's too, if she's up to it. I promise to
phone my husband back in a few hours.

Later on in the bathroom I think longingly of having a nice long
soak in the tub, but that's out. Fast and efficient showers are
the rule for at least another few days. But it makes me think of
the luxury of the hotel room in Hollywood for the movie premiere
of 'The Lazarus Bowl' recently. Skinner rang Mulder from his hotel
bathtub. What our boss didn't know was that Mulder was in the tub
at the time too - with me.

Horrible movie, but the trip did have its compensations.

xXx

While folding laundry, I fall asleep on a sofa in the living room.
And I have a strange, very vivid dream.

I'm flying across a desertscape. Not in a plane, but by myself. In
the dream I know somehow that the desert is going to end soon.

I guess it is symbolic of this 'dry' spell and of Mom's illness.

xXx

Next day, Friday:

I'm still feeling strange. Perhaps I'm coming down with something.
Perhaps I'm going lust-mad.

Its like I'm still flying across that desert, with the sense that
it is about to drop away beneath me, that time is running out.

It could be frustration, because nothing has gone according to
plan so far today. Mulder's plane was delayed and so was Mrs.
Judd. Then when she was able to get in her car, she got stuck in a
traffic jam. So the result has been that we will get to keep the
appointment to view the townhouse, but with Mulder coming directly
there via a taxi from the airport and me coming from Mom's now
that Mrs. Judd has arrived to take over.

Now if I could just get the desire for full body contact with a
warm, unclothed Mulder of my head for a few hours...

Thankfully I am on time. I pull up out the front of the townhouse.
It looks lovely. The real estate agent is waiting. We discuss the
place for a few minutes, then Mulder arrives. The house may look
lovely, but he looks gorgeous. He looks at me and I swear the air
between us crackles with desire. We don't dare kiss for fear we
won't be able to stop it there. Time for that soon enough.

"You still feeling strange?" Mulder whispers to me as we follow
the agent inside.

My husband's warm breath in my ear and close proximity cause
flutterings low in my abdomen. "Yeah," I manage.

"Me too... Perhaps we're coming down with something. Is Mom's
pneumonia contagious?"

"More like a terminal case of lust. Which is all your fault, G-
man." Then I make myself concentrate on the house and its
features.

There are three levels. On garage level there is the laundry room,
den and half-bath.

The next up is the main level - open floor plan. A living room
with a window seat overlooks the small front yard. The bay window
is beautiful. I think I would buy the house just for it and the
window seat. The rooms are in an L shape with the living room as
we walk in the door to the left and then the dining room forming
the bottom of the L as we go right to the back of the house. The
kitchen is to the right off the dining room. There are stairs
going down to the den and right next to them stairs going up to
the bedrooms.

Upstairs there are two bedrooms with a bathroom in between. The
windows face the back of the house. The master bedroom with a
bathroom faces the front of the house. That bedroom has a loft
that would make a good study and has a lovely view.

The real estate agent says, "Three bedrooms make it a perfect
house for a family."

I blush. One of the rooms across from the master bedroom *would*
be perfect for a nursery. Both Mulder and I agree on that with an
exchange of looks, but don't dare say the word out loud, as if
we'll jinx things. The leads we've investigated so far about my
stolen ova have led to dead ends. We're not giving up.

I make myself return to the present. The third bedroom could be a
guest bedroom.

We are just about to go out into the back yard when the real
estate agent gets a call on his cellular and, excusing himself,
moves into another room to answer it. Mulder and I quietly discuss
what we have seen so far and agree that this place feels right.

The real estate agent comes back in, putting his cellular away. He
addresses us apologetically. "I'm afraid that something important
has come up and I have to leave. Since you're both Federal Agents,
I feel quite safe with leaving you the keys to the house and to
the lock box so you can continue to look around. Please drop the
lock box keys back into the office when done. If you have any
further questions about the property my secretary may be able to
help. Otherwise she'll let me know your queries and I'll get back
to you about them. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience."

"That's fine. It would be nice to look around some more. We don't
mind at all," I reply.

We certainly don't. As soon as his car departs we let this
magnetic pull have its way and come together, hustling to the
window seat. Thank God drapes and curtains come as part of a
house... We quickly draw them closed.

My skin is hyper-sensitive and I find out that internally I am
even more so.

Oh God, I really am flying...

xXx

We lay cradled by the seat and by each other. Completely sated,
physically and spiritually.

That was incredible... Like we reached another plane of existence.
Or paradise.

It is a long time before either of us is capable of speaking or
even feels like letting words intrude. But of course when the time
comes, it has to be my husband. "Is this what's meant by putting
down a deposit on a house?" he asks with a huge grin.

"Mmm-hmm," I answer with a laugh. I don't feel embarrassed about
what happened. "Seeing as we've christened the place, I think the
least we should do is buy it. It feels like home already. I mean,
we should go have another, thorough, look around first, but I love
it."

When we finally recover enough, we get dressed and go exploring.
And find that we can't wait to make this our own place.

xXx

Saturday, a month later:

We are now homeowners. This will be our first night in our new
home. Since the house was already empty and we had the money, we
were able to get the purchase through quickly. The last four weeks
have been another mad rush. Legal garbage. Title searches.
Recording deeds. All the packing and organizing and moving and
unavoidable stress - we're worn out. So we've been making sure
that we get plenty of sleep. All the exercise works up an appetite
too.

My skin still feels sensitive. Not to the degree that it was
before Mulder and I unloaded all that pent up sexual energy and
longing, but my senses still feel 'heightened' somehow.

"We had such a good time that we're still feeling the
aftershocks," is Mulder's theory. "Hell, every time I look at that
window seat..." Or every time that we've put it to use since that
day.

I had another vivid dream too. About soaring over the desert
again. This time there was a valley. A green, lovely valley that I
nearly missed in my headlong flight towards the horizon. It wasn't
a chasm after all, or the end of the world. I remember landing in
the valley, then I woke up.

We're using my apartment furniture for now, while we decide what
we're going to do with each room, then we can adapt Teena's
furniture.

Most of the remaining boxes are in the nursery. We'll unpack them
over the course of the next few weeks. No rush.

Speaking of the nursery... In a few more weeks, when we've had a
chance to settle in properly and catch up on rest, we'll make
another appointment at the fertility clinic. Our doctor thought
that I might still have some viable eggs left, since I still get a
monthly cycle. Tests have shown that Mulder's reproductive
abilities have not been harmed or altered by his run-ins with
retroviruses and such. We don't know how long it will take us to
get the stolen ova back and we're not getting any younger, so the
sooner we start trying, the better.

The plan is to try to 'generate' some ova into being released from
my ovaries by injecting me with a series of hormone treatments.
The ova will be collected and we will see if they are okay. If
successful, the egg or eggs will be fertilized and any embryos
implanted in me. This is not a process I wanted to begin or be in
the middle of while attempting to move.

We're going to have an early night. After I finish speaking to Mom
- who is fully recovered - on the phone I still feel hungry, so I
go into the kitchen and rustle up a snack. Eating, I go back into
our living room. I pass the fish, who have survived this move with
equanimity, just like when we shifted them to my apartment.

My husband is sitting on the sofa. I wave a slice of my snack -
cold pizza - at him, and scold, "You're a bad influence." But this
was quick and easy and I'm tired. And it does taste good.

Mulder grins and snags a slice off my plate, then resumes his
channel surfing. He lands on a movie that is just starting.
'Caddyshack'. His grin becomes bigger. His tape of it was one of
the things trashed when he wrecked his apartment. We've bought him
a lot of replacement items, but not in the video area yet.

I groan as I sit down on the sofa with him. "That is such a guy
movie."

"Well, tomorrow night we can watch 'Steel Magnolias' instead. But
for now..."

"Uh uh. We're only watching it for the amount of time it takes me
to eat this."

"At the rate you've going, that won't be long."

"Well, that's because I have other things on my mind..." I say
leadingly, and run my tongue slowly and sensuously around my lips.
I receive a 'have mercy!' look.

I can see his brain whirring. This movie is just the sort of
nonsense he needs to unwind with after such a busy time. But there
is also a sexy wife who he can unwind with. I know he is thinking
that if sexy wife would just hold that thought until the movie is
over - or give him a quickie in an ad break - he can have both.
But we both know that I'll win out, one way or the other.

I eat in silence, for the next few minutes at least, biding my
time, enjoying being with my husband in our own real house at
last. I lean against his shoulder and look around the room as he
puts his arm around me. I mentally picture what to put where and
what wallpaper would suit.

Mulder can see what I am doing. "Happy, Dana?"

I grin and move back a little to give him a look. "I'm fairly
happy."

"I get the message. I'll take out the garbage after the movie is
over!"

"Take it out now and I'll give you dessert, Fox." I breathe his
first name.

"Gotcha."

"No, I'll be the one who gets you."


EPILOGUE:

A few days later it is business as usual at work. We are still
wearing our rings on chains around our necks and our 'same
address' status has not been commented on.

What has been commented on is expenses. Courtesy of an accountant
who even I consider to be anally retentive. In separate interviews
with us, he ragged on about how costly our department is, with
'nothing to show for it'.

Mulder said he told the guy we could start sharing rooms... Then
my husband was called in to see the accountant again.

When my partner arrives back in the basement office, he looks
sheepish.

"I think I'm in big trouble."

"Oh, Mulder, how many times have they tried to shut us down?"

"Yeah, but I never actually assaulted an auditor before."

I can't help giving a grin. Sounds like my husband has done what I
was itching to do but would not have dared. That has always been a
facet of his that is worthy of admiration and frustration,
depending on the circumstances. This time it is the former. "Did
you hurt him?"

"I reduced his vision a little bit."

The phone rings. Mulder answers it on speaker phone. For the first
time in seven or so years I hear Billy Miles' voice. Our first X-
File together is coming full circle. The abductions seem to be
happening again in Oregon.

When Billy abruptly hangs up, Mulder looks at me with that twinkle
in his eyes. "More alien abductions, Scully."

I give him the same look back. "I don't know how we could possibly
justify the expense."

"We'd probably turn up nothing."

"Let's go waste some money."

Oregon, here we come.


THE END.

Mulder continues the tale in "New Millennium: Lost and Found" by
Vickie, which will be posted out tomorrow. Then the next day
comes Scully (and I) with a vignette called "New Millennium:
Sorrows and Joys" and, the day after that, Vickie then channels 
Skinner in "New Millennium: Finding Mulder".

Note: In our vignettes "Kicking Butt in the New Millennium" and
"Getting Some in the New Millennium" Mulder and Scully were
looking back on the events of First Person Shooter on their first
wedding anniversary. We mentioned in passing that their home was
located in Georgetown. So please ignore that reference or pretend
it reads 'Alexandria' instead <G>.