From: Ten <kristena@ocean.com.au>
Date: Mon, 14 Apr 2003 10:07:14 +1000
Subject: "New Millennium: The Connection" (1/1) Heavy R by Ten
Source: xff


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

CATEGORY: V; Angst; MSR (Married); AU
RATING: Heavy R for some nudity and consensual adult situations
not gone into in great detail
SUMMARY: After Mulder's return from his abduction and a stint in
the hospital, he has been discharged at last. Scully cannot wait
to have a peaceful night's sleep at home with her husband, but
surprising events unfold.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: "Requiem" and its resolution - our
version of events anyway. This is part of Vickie Moseley and my
"New Millennium" series, which goes into alternate universe after
'Millennium'. We have definitely gone even more alternate universe
in these "Requiem" installments than what was on screen - for
example, in our stories Mulder was only abducted for six weeks and
definitely did not get buried in a coffin for months. The stories
are on my website (see below).

This story follows the events of "New Millennium: The Calm Before
the Storm" by me, "New Millennium: Lost and Found" by Vickie, "New
Millennium: Sorrows and Joys" by me, "New Millennium: Finding
Mulder" by Vickie and "New Millennium: Homecoming" by Vickie and
me. Those installments deal with the 'Requiem' events.

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: Mary Lou, who lobbied for 'full-frontal' Mulder. I
thought that would be highly unlikely in this installment, but
suddenly a scenario popped into my head.... Also thanks to Gerry,
Mac, Suzanne, Debbie, Sally, Judie and Vickie.

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 Connection" (1/1)
Written February - April 2003

xXx

It is wonderful to be out of that hospital. The next time I need
to be in one, it better be to have the baby...

Mom made soup for Mulder's first meal back at home. After we eat,
he goes to the bathroom then returns to bed and sleeps for another
hour. I stay in the bedroom too and go over mail quietly while he
naps, close enough if he needs me. And I drift on a blissful cloud
of contentment from that erotic dream I had in his arms....

The next time he is awake we walk around this story of the house,
to give him some exercise and get him moving. Mulder notices all
the boxes that still need to be unpacked.

"I was too busy looking for you," I explain.

"We'll have time over the next few weeks to go through them."
Mulder sees some things that I did have time to spread out on a
table. He picks up a photo of me and looks at the date bar on it.
"That's from pretty early in our partnership."

"Yes. Mom took it one day when she met me for lunch near HQ."

"Was that back when you thought of me as a pain in the ass?" he
asks with a studied air of innocence.

"Who says I stopped?" I reply just as innocently, pressing up
against his side, putting my hand square on his rear for a nice
long moment.

He grins at both the comment and the touch. "Hey, I think that by
now I'm less of a pain in the ass and more of a pleasure in the...
y'know! I hope so, anyway."

I do have to concede that point.

Mulder then looks around the room in some puzzlement. I ask him
what's wrong.

"I just - I thought there would be some baby stuff around. There
isn't anything in here that I can see, and Mom has the guest
bedroom for now." The room that we are currently in is, after all,
the one best situated and suited to become the nursery.

"Things like a cradle and nursery furniture and toys?"

"Yeah. But, you have had other things on your mind," he says
gently, arm around me.

"The toy baseball and bat I showed you in the hospital are all
that I've bought so far," I admit. "Partly because I was spending
so much time looking for you, partly because I wanted us both to
be doing the buying together, and also because...." I hesitate.
"Even with the morning sickness, sometimes being pregnant feels
like a dream that I'll wake up from." I give a self-conscious
smile. "Perhaps I've been waiting for the end of the first
trimester - then I'd feel 'safer' or more confident about buying
things, I guess." Actually, I suspect that I'll subconsciously be
hesitant to a degree until our baby is physically in my arms, but
I don't want to tell him that.

His expression is understanding, but worried, so I hastily
continue, "I'll be okay. The doctor says we're doing fine. Very
soon we'll be in the second trimester - we're practically there -
and I'll drag you into the nearest baby section of a department
store and burn out our credit cards in one big splurge. And I
think Mom has been getting things out of storage from her attic
and doing some buying on the side."

Mulder smiles, then says ruefully, "Well, at least there's
incentive to get all these boxes emptied and everything put
wherever. And at least most of it isn't my junk!"

That is true. When his grief and anger over his mother's suicide
reached flash point, he took it out on the contents of his
apartment, which he still had at that stage. He ended up breaking
or damaging a lot of his possessions and then got rid of many
things. A clean out and fresh start, in a way.

I nod. "And then we can work out things like the theme to decorate
the nursery in. As for a colour scheme, I'm leaning towards
primary colours. They'd hide a lot more damage than pastels."

"Good thinking ahead," he agrees. I smile and feel my apprehension
retreating.

I can see that my husband is getting tired, so we return to our
bedroom. It is evening, and Mulder decides to sit on the bed,
propped up with pillows against the headboard, and watch TV for as
long as he can manage. Which I don't think will be for terribly
long.

As he settles and picks up the remote control, I go fetch an item
from a drawer.

"I was saving this until you came home. A welcome home present." I
hand Mulder a photo. It's in a little folder, but I've bent the
flap to the back so that he sees the picture first.

Completely puzzled, Mulder stares at the grainy, blob-like thing.
"What is...?"

"It's not bad or blurry photography, Mulder. I rate it up there
with any oil painting by the masters." With a big smile I take the
folder out of his hands for long enough to flip the cover back
over into place. The folder, a faint pink color, bears the words
'Baby's First Picture'.

Mulder nearly drops it. "This...you mean, this is...?"

I nod, the brief melancholy mood now completely gone. He has
another look, stunned. I tell him, "That's the first sonogram I
had. There's our baby's heart. I know it's all hard to see. Fetal
development doesn't look like a 'baby' at that stage."

"Oh my God... That's our kid!" he says with dazed pride. "Well,
somewhere in there anyway!" Then he looks at the front cover
again. "Pink? Does that mean they can tell that it's -"

"Not yet. My theory is the colour isn't for the baby, it's for the
MOTHER.  Everything with pregnancy is pink-oriented.  It's sort of
disgusting, actually!"

He laughs, props the picture carefully on the dresser, then
enfolds me in a huge hug. After a few minutes he sits back and
regards me earnestly. "Dana -" He stops as I raise my eyebrows,
and then he asks "What?"

I smile and say, "It's kind of ironic. Here we are, even calling
Skinner 'Walter' now, and I've changed my surname to 'Scully-
Mulder', but even though you and I have been married since
January, we don't call each other by our first names very often."

He shrugs and replies, "If I recall, we did occasionally while
alone, especially during some rather intimate moments, but there
was always the risk of us slipping up in front of other agents or
someone and blowing our secret. So we kept it to a minimum." Then
he smiles. "However that's not a problem anymore...."

"True. Anyway, I'm sorry - what were you going to say before I
interrupted?" Is he going to again bring up the dream that he
thinks we shared before dinner?

"This: now that the world knows that we're married, how about we
really do it properly? Have that white wedding and reception that
we promised Mom. In a few months or whenever, so you have time to
organize whatever you want to. Seeing as I sort of rushed you into
the first one." Mulder is looking at me hopefully.

We're lucky my smile doesn't blind him. "I like that idea a lot.
I'm always willing to marry you! If we have it within the next two
months, I won't be showing much in my wedding pictures. Not that
I'd mind." And since his wedding ring vanished while he was away,
it would be a perfect time to get another one. "We can start
planning in the morning, but for now, you need to rest."

Mulder pulls a slight face, but obeys.

xXx

Mom has said goodnight and gone to bed.

My husband is asleep in my arms. I study him tenderly by the soft
light of a lamp that is across the room. Bright enough if either
of us needs to make excursions to the bathroom, but far away
enough not to be intrusive.

I think back to earlier. Mulder says we shared a dream. A dream of
one of our lovemaking sessions, that felt so real that I woke up
at first believing we'd just done it, and he woke up in need of a
change of sweatpants...

But did we really share the *same* dream?

When he was missing I was pretty much having nightly dreams of us
together. During the one I had a few hours ago, I probably was
wriggling against him in my sleep or moaning, and that set my
husband off. That's a fair possibility. Definitely more likely
than us both having the same dream....

Perhaps it was a bit unfair of me to tell him "I wish you'd saved
some of that for me," when I was cleaning him up. After all, there
is already a bun in the oven courtesy of him. But I was hormonal
and sort of embarrassed that I'd woken up thinking we'd had sex
when we hadn't, and I also had to race to make sure all was normal
again for Mom's imminent arrival with the soup.... There wasn't
much time to savor it. The feelings from the dream, that is - not
the soup.

Mulder said that in our shared dream, he went down on me. I
countered that he's done that plenty of times.

I remember the first time....

January. We were still on two week's administrative leave after
firing our guns on a case (the zombies-end-of-the-Millennium one).
That was also our 'honeymoon' time, not that anyone knew at that
stage. So of course Mulder ended up getting the flu and quickly
passing it on to me. Once we both recovered from that, fortunately
we still had some leave left. And my husband was quite busy
working out how we could effectively pass some of that time....

"Scully, it occurs to me that there are a number of things we
haven't done yet. And I'd very much like to try one of them now."

"Like?"

He whispered his wish in my ear. My breathing and heart
immediately quickened with arousal at the very thought. Oh God, I
wanted him to do that to me. But....

"We can't, Mulder. Not yet. Your arm -" The stitches were staying
in for ten days - or longer if need be - to make sure that all was
well.

"Within the next few days, these stitches will be out! I'm healed
enough."

Not to mention that once he 'went forth' he probably wouldn't
notice or care about any pain he was feeling....

"Mulder, I know I'm probably being overcautious, but I don't want
you putting pressure on that arm just yet, and that's what's going
to happen if we try your admittedly very tempting idea. It won't
be long before we will be able to do it without worry. Something
to look forward to."

"We *can* do it now," he insisted. "Look - how about you sit on
the bed and lean back on your elbows or lie across it with your
lovely rear close to the edge and your feet on the floor. I'll
kneel on the floor in front of you. That way, everything should be
'in position' without problem!"

I stared at him.

"Scully? Too much?" he asked worriedly.

I smiled. "Never let it be said that I would miss an opportunity
for you to be your knees in front of me, husband!" Even he looked
surprised at just how fast I moved to shed certain items of my
clothing and get into position.

xXx

And lying here now beside my returned and sleeping husband, I'm
thinking back to that time.

Bad move! Because -

Oh God, I feel so.... I need....

The way I feel, not much handiwork will be required for me to
come. But - can I do it quietly enough in bed without disturbing
Mulder, or should I try to get up and sneak to the bathroom and
hope that I don't wake him up in the process?

He needs his sleep, not to be bothered by me and my desires. As
much as I want it. It isn't fair to make him think that sex is the
only thing on my mind.

Suddenly Mulder's hand moves from my hip to just where I want it
to be. His fingers are on the 'touchstone', back there at last,
stroking, loving -

I muffle my cry in his shoulder.

A second one takes very little follow up effort.

"Oh.... Oh Mulder...." I whisper, my eyes still closed. I take in
deep breaths.

He gently plants kisses over my face. I can feel his smile against
my skin.

I open my eyes. "How did you know?"

"There were clues. I could feel that you were...um, shall we say,
'primed'? I could feel it in the way you were lying, breathing....
You were ready."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be selfish...."

For a moment he stares at me in puzzlement, then comprehension
dawns. "Scully, satisfying you satisfies *me*. It's a win/win
situation."

I sigh contentedly, happy to concede *that* point. Then I reach
down to see if I can return the favor.

When we'd woken up earlier we were both caught by surprise by what
he had managed to achieve in his sleep - not only did he get into
an excited state but then the fireworks went off - despite what
he's been through, including exhaustion after being discharged
from the hospital. I had thought that sex was too strenuous an
activity for him, but on consideration, since he was able to do
all that while asleep, things could be looking 'up' in that regard
while we're awake.

And with Mulder giving me that lovely helping hand, I figure that
the fox might now be sitting up and begging for some attention.

But no. Even with some thorough attention, the fox sleeps on. I
know that Mulder is disappointed, but he tells me that it is okay.
"I just hope this isn't normal operating procedure from now on!"

"It won't be," I reassure him. "You're tired and you were a busy
boy earlier, so that may have contributed." And psychology might
be a factor - given his past experience with injuries he might
subconsciously expect that he can't do this while his body is
healing. "We'll see how things stand in the morning."

"I hope they will! But, like I said, satisfying you satisfies me."

"And I am extremely satisfied," I say contentedly, still coasting
in 'post-pleasure' mode. Mulder smiles and does what he knows I
like during this time: continues to touch me. He undoes the front
of my pajamas and his hands wander. Then he cups a breast, re-
familiarizing himself with the terrain. Noticing changes to the
contours....

"Definitely a bit bigger, love."

"I'll have to shop for new bras at some stage soon."

"Not without me!"

"Well, my next doctor's appointment is next week. By then you
should be set for some outings."

I'm half-expecting Mulder to drop off in the middle of his gentle
ministrations, but he isn't. Not yet, anyway. Doing this is
probably stimulating or occupying him enough to keep the sleep
temporarily at bay, and it isn't like it's a great exertion for
him. He's able to lie there and do it to me.

I've had to be in doctor mode for so long since he was found that
it is hard to stop. But I manage to cease the analyzing and focus
on feeling instead. My husband continues to stroke and touch my
breasts, then my sides. I drift, but then his next words yank me
back.

"I think I put the whammy on Walt," Mulder remarks thoughtfully.

"Huh?" Sheesh, what a mood-killer.... Not to mention somewhat
insulting that my husband is thinking about our boss while
touching me!

"Walter," Mulder says. "Before - when he and Mom were in the room.
I wanted you in bed with me, but you wouldn't while they were
there and they weren't budging. Then all of a sudden Walt couldn't
get out of here fast enough, and he made sure Mom went with him. I
think my 'go away' vibes hit home!"

He's serious. Uh oh.... His shared dream theory is easier to take
than this one. "Mulder, our boss probably saw that you were giving
him the evil eye."

"How could I? You were watching me that whole time - in fact you
were kissing my eyelids to get me to sleep, so I could hardly have
done it then! I wonder.... Perhaps whatever let me do that is also
what allowed us to share dreams." Another thought strikes him.
"And is helping me recover too - remember how you thought I'd have
to go into the rehab facility at the hospital instead of directly
home? But then I made what even the doctors said was 'remarkable
progress'. That could be still happening."

"Mulder, that theory is quite a leap.... Several leaps, actually.
Please don't go reading any more into this than what there is.
Yes, you're more energetic than expected but then again, you've
always been the type to push yourself a little. More so than most
people. And you were very determined to get home. Those factors
would have helped. As for Walter, I'm sure he realized that we
wanted time alone without needing a mental zap. It was just a
coincidence. One lone incident."

My husband gives me a Look, then says, "All right, I'll let 'the
whammy' go for now.... But speaking of phenomena, why can't you
consider the possibility that we shared a dream? There's a unique
bond between us. Heck, remember how strange we BOTH felt before I
knocked you up? Even you said that it was our bodies telling us
that the time was right to conceive."

"It just...." I trail off.

He presses on. "You also said that there was a time while I was
gone when you were standing in front of the mirror in here, seeing
if there was any sign of the baby, and you felt like I was there
with you. I think I was. In the hospital I was able to tell you
how you looked, that you were showing a little, and WHERE, before
you even admitted anything about that time. And I can remember
holding pain at bay by thinking about you and me together. Really
together. Memories." His voice is flagging, but through tiredness,
not lack of conviction.

"I - I.... Sometimes I felt like I could feel you holding me," I
admit. "And at night, I'd dream about us together. Making love. It
felt so real. Like I was reliving it over again."

"We were connected. We ARE sharing our dreams! Dana, why didn't
you tell me earlier? And why -"

"I don't know if it is or not! I thought it was the hormones and
my longing for you! It still could be! I didn't tell you because I
didn't want to make it sound like sex was or is the only thing on
my mind and make you feel like you had to rush your recovery as a
result or make you feel self-conscious!"

He stares at me, at my babbled rush, then starts chuckling.

"Mulder," I say warningly. "Do not aggravate the pregnant woman."

He strokes my back placatingly. "I'd say: 'Wouldn't dream of it,'
but who knows what will happen in our dreams...."

I am trying to smother a yawn that is in no way faked. "Can we
discuss this in the morning? I'm so tired and I just want to hold
you and enjoy being home."

He kisses my forehead. "Of course." And within a minute he is
sound asleep.

xXx

I slide into the dreams again.

Another memory is starting, specifically of a session where I
cuffed Mulder to the bed with a set of fur lined cuffs and
proceeded to take him for one heck of a ride.... (He had the right
to remain silent but chose not to use it.) But just as I am
snapping the cuff shut around his wrist, Mulder says, "How about
we see if we can vary things around a little?"

Wait a minute. That isn't how it went.... "What do you mean?" I
ask.

He's looking so eager and boyish. "I mean, see how much control we
have over this - whether we're going to relive this memory or if
we can influence it. Alter it."

I fold my arms. "You're complaining about what happened in this
particular memory?"

He grins. "Not at all. You were quite the mover and shaker, my
love. But I'm curious...." Of course he is.

Suddenly his wrist is free of the cuff. The cuff hasn't snapped
open - it simply isn't there anymore. I stare. And suddenly we're
in a field - Mulder lying, me kneeling, just like we were on the
bed. And still naked.

There is no longer any pillow under his head, so it drops to the
ground. Fortunately that isn't far and there is a buffer of grass.

"Hey, it worked!" Mulder says in delight, sitting up.

"Oh great, nothing like grass up the -" I start to complain, then
suddenly I am in casual clothes.

"Better?" he asks smugly. In the blink of an eye, he's in casuals
too.

O-kay. Let's see if two can play this game. After all, it's a
dream. I picture a deserted beach, and suddenly we are there.

"Way to go!" Mulder cheers.

My God.... This is one of the most realistic dreams I've ever had
- I can feel the sand, smell and taste the salt on the wind. The
wind is picking up, and with a thought, I make it stop.

"I've never been in control of a dream to this degree. Ever," I
tell him, bewildered.

"Might as well make the most of it then. Want to pick a fantasy
and bring it to life?"

I hesitate, then an idea comes to me. "Well, there are a few that
would be pretty impossible to pull off in real life."

"Do tell. Or show."

"What the hell. Might as well make hay while the sun shines, and
make love while the dream continues!"

I concentrate, and change our surroundings. The FBI pool. No other
people around, of course. It feels and even smells like the real
thing.

And I have put Mulder in the water, in a certain little red
Speedo.

He grabs at the edge of the pool, nearly swallowing some water in
his surprise. His head pops up above the surface and he treads
water, coughing. He gets hair and water out of his eyes with a few
sweeps of his hand, and looks around then down at what he's
wearing and then at me as I stand at the edge. I can't help
looking smug.

"Not bad at all. Want to come in?" he asks.

I shake my head and say shamelessly, "No. I like seeing you come
*out* of the water...."

"Happy to oblige."

He swims over to the nearest ladder while I admire how his muscles
move. Then he slowly emerges. The water hugs him intimately as it
runs off, each drop probably having the best ride of its life but
cursing gravity that the trip will inevitably end.

The man is literally poetry in motion. He moves so confidently and
sexily, and I enjoy the sight coming towards me.

I make the Speedos disappear. Oh yes. Prime Mulder is walking
towards me, not thin or gaunt.

I change myself into one of my business outfits - with skirt.

"Strange choice," Mulder remarks, stopping just in front of me.

"You naked, me clothed, you wet, me dry - it kind of has a sexy
appeal...."

"Ohhh.... Fine by me."

"And I'm not *entirely* clothed." I reach down and start to slide
the hem of my skirt up my thighs. Slowly. Tantalizingly. My
fingers trail along the bare skin I am revealing. Mulder's gaze on
the same area is so intense that it feels like his fingers are
there too. "And not entirely dry either...."

He grins but doesn't rise to the bait - well, not in the verbal
sense, anyway.

I say, "Next dream, we do it on the desk in the basement, okay?"

"Consider it booked!"

Then I am in my husband's arms, up against the wall, having an
incredible time.

xXx

I wake up in our bed feeling like I have just had amazing sex. I
feel wonderful. My husband is smiling at me. I smile back. He
kisses me and says, "The pool was an awesome idea, wife!"

I sit up in shock. "What?"

He sits up too. "I'm looking forward to trying the desk scenario,
but for now I'd better get cleaned up. I can do that myself. I'm
not as exhausted as before. Won't be long."

He gets out of bed and moves to the dresser, rummaging, grabbing
something out. Then I see the pajama pants that he's wearing....
Oh God, he's done it again!

Dazed, I scramble up - noticing that it is about five in the
morning - and follow him into the bathroom, blinking in the
stronger light.

"You mean...." stumbles out of my mouth.

Mulder looks at me with a happy 'got-some!' grin, even though he
looks like he could use more sleep. He is still energetic enough
for me to start to wonder whether his theory about his fast
recovery is so far-fetched after all.

He puts a spare pair of pajamas down on the edge of the bath and
grabs a towel. "We shared another dream. You still don't believe
me? Dana, we dreamed about making love at the FBI pool!"

"I could have said that in my sleep...."

Mulder gives me a withering look (with a large dollop of amused
affection) and while he cleans himself up he proceeds to give me a
literal blow by blow account of my entire dream, right from the
cuffs to heaven against the wall of the FBI pool. Complete with
dialogue and noises.... And an inadvertent yawn from his
recovering body, which my husband assures me is no comment on our
dream activities.

I gape at him.

"Face it, Scully, you're never THAT chatty in your sleep! There's
only one explanation."

"Oh my God," I say dazedly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Our souls found a way! We're so good we don't even need to do it
physically!" Mulder explains. "Makes perfect sense to me!"

I can't help laughing. But this time it isn't in disbelief. It's
in amazement and joy. "It feels so real," I say. "So much so, that
if I wasn't already pregnant, I'm sure I would be after those two
sessions!

"Well, it would be nice to be able to score when I'm awake, but I
have a feeling that will 'come' soon enough. And this is
definitely better than nothing!" My husband is laughing too. "I
have a feeling that this recovery period is going to be a lot less
boring and irritating than my other ones. Bring it on!"

"And in. Definitely in," I add, drawing him into a hug.


THE END.