From: Ten <kristena@ocean.com.au>
Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2000 21:36:36 +1100
Subject: "The Night After the New Millennium" (1/2) by Ten
Source: xff



TITLE: "The Night After the New Millennium" (1/2)
BY: Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY: V; after-effects of MT; MSR; H; a smidgen
o'angst
RATING: R for consensual sexual situations
SUMMARY: When we last left our intrepid and recently
married duo at Maggie's, they had been invited to stay
the night, despite Bill's displeasure. Can Mulder survive
until morning, and will his fate be at the hands of Bill
or Dana?
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: "Millennium", "Biogenesis
Trilogy" and "Fire". Part of Vickie's and my "New
Millennium" series. This is the fourth in the series and
comes after "Entering the New Millennium". We're tossing
the baton back and forth. Hey, Vickie, how come I always
end up with the bedroom scenes? <G>

ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be
archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer
stay intact.
FEEDBACK: Love it. Brings joy to my world!
THANKS TO: Vickie, Debbie, Sally, Macspooky and Gerry.
(Hmmm, all those names ending with the 'y' sound make for
good editors!)

The stories in this series are available at my website:
http://tenxffic.iwarp.com
Click on the "New Millennium" banner

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

The X-Files: "The Night After the New Millennium" (1/2)
By Ten, February 22nd - March 13th, 2000


xXx

January 2nd 2000
Maggie Scully's residence
nearing 1:00 am


I'll be glad when Mulder's arm is healed. That injury
gets in the way. For tonight, he's taken the sling off;
however, he still has to keep that limb fairly immobile.
But it is only temporary and we are resourceful. At the
moment we're in bed - or 'beds' to be strictly accurate,
my old bed and Melissa's pushed together so we can lie
together - and I'm on his left side so that there's less
chance of me jostling his arm. I'm leaning over him so
that we can touch and kiss.

I love kissing him. I love being able to touch him and
tell him that I love him. Our tongues caress for a while,
then clash passionately. I explore his face with my
fingers, then follow with my mouth. I keep coming back to
his lips, then breaking away to explore.

We don't have the lights on, but there is light from a
streetlamp coming in through the window, so we can see
well enough. Besides, I'm glowing. Stick some electrodes
on my erogenous zones and I'm sure I could power Vegas
with minimal fuss.

Earlier on, when we arrived at Mom's and we'd finished
chatting about the day's rather miraculous start, she
wanted to heat something up for us, but I told her we
already ate on the road.

The main thing on the menu was devouring each other.

Now Mulder tries to reach for me, then winces. I guess
more than one thing is starting to throb. He pouts.
"Damn, this is even more frustrating than not being able
to move when I was catatonic..."

I give him a look for daring to downplay how serious that
situation was.

"When I was catatonic, I wasn't chock full of raging
hormones," he elaborates, and gives me a 'now do you get
my drift' look.

"That is a point." Indeed, one IS forming quite nicely.
"But it's not like we can't do something about it now."

"Like?" He drags the word out.

"This..."

Soon we're ready for the next level, but Mulder halts me.

"Dana..." He's panting.

"Yes, Fox?" I think he's going to query whether or not we
should be doing this in my mother's house.

However, his eyes aren't hesitant. They're incandescent.
Hungry. "Which one - which one was your bed?"

I stare at him, then realise. My grin matches his. We're
sort of lying across both beds at the moment.

I point at the bed on the right. My childhood bed.

"Then I want you in that bed."

If I wasn't completely ready before he said that in THAT
tone, then I certainly am now. We shift around so that
we're completely on my old bed. Then we set to it.

Just over twenty-four hours ago, at midnight, Fox Mulder
kissed me for the first time, a gentle, chaste kiss. Now
a whole day has passed and I'm married to him and we're
doing more than kissing.

This feels so good. My husband's good hand is sliding up
and down my thigh, his ring, my father's ring, gleaming.
I look down at Mulder as I move and moan. The headboard
thuds into the wall. I was a child and now I'm a woman
and none of my fantasies, none of them... We're picking
up the pace and the noise level. This is quite a point
we're making.

The headboard is not the only thing thudding. There's a
banging on the wall. Bill. His room is next door.

"Fluff the duck UP!" he roars, well, as near to roars as
someone who has been drinking can get. Or perhaps I can't
hear properly over all that's going on. Up.

I ignore him and lock eyes with my husband and the
pounding is now the blood in my ears and his heart under
my hand as we race towards our invisible finish line.

We breast the tape. Mulder arches up with a strangled cry
and at the same time I feel like I'm being catapulted
into the air with the force of my orgasm.

Whoo boy. That one would have won gold in the sexual
Olympics.

He lies there and I sit there, minds reeling in orbit.
I'm trying not to let my body collapse on his arm again.
My lungs fill and empty. My heart is full.

The banging starts again. This time it's on the bedroom
door. Thank God I locked it. "Stop th't!" The noise must
have sobered Bill up a little, but he's still slurring.
"You bassard! Stop screwin' my shisster, ri' now!"

"I think I have," Mulder murmurs, still plastered to the
mattress, trapped under my weight. I reach out a
trembling hand to his head and brush his damp hair back.
He cocks an eyebrow at me and pants, "Think we should
show him who's actually on top?"

Bill bangs louder.

"Go away!" I call. If Mulder hadn't made me so mellow and
satisfied, I'd grab my weapon and go shut my brother up
permanently.

Whoops. Got to stop that - thoughts like that almost got
me in real trouble when Mulder could read minds...

Bill keeps pounding on the door. "Y' surry son of an
itch!"

"Hardly..." Mulder snorts. "That Mulder's permanently
retired." I wonder if his smugness will change if Bill
manages to break the door down?

"Bill Scully Junior!" Thank God Mom's on the case. I hear
her marching down the hallway from her bedroom. Want to
borrow my gun, Mom?

"Bu', Mom," he whines. I half-expect to hear him say
'Dana's not supposed to have boys in her room' and stamp
his foot.

Mom's voice is imperious. "Leave them alone! Your sister
is over twenty-one. And it IS her *wedding night*."

Desperation appears to clear his head and tongue a
little. "But is it? She said they got married ju' like
that after he made up his mind yesherday! They can't have
gotten hished that quick! It's not possible..." He's
almost begging.

"Bill, there are places in this country, like
Connecticut, where no blood tests or waiting period are
necessary. Seven years was enough to wait. And even
though it wasn't a church wedding, or even if they
WEREN'T married, their love is certainly legal enough for
me. Now if you don't want to stay in the next room, take
some pillows and blankets and you can sleep downstairs on
the sofa. I think that would be best for everyone."

"Mom -"

"GO! And if you feel like you're going to lose those
beers, then take a bucket from the laundry with you!"

My brother drags his feet down the hall. I hear him
thumping down the stairs. I hear my mother sigh and then
laugh, then she heads for her room.

"Goodnight all..."

Crisis over, Mulder and I are soon lying in 'our' hold.
Him on his back, me on my left side, pressed up against
him, arm around his waist.

"Nice bed, Scully," Mulder remarks with studied
casualness.

"I don't think it ever expected to be put through those
paces. Oh my God..."

"What?"

"I just remembered something. Something that Melissa told
me when she was fifteen. One night she just turned to me
when we were in here and said, 'Dana, you're going to
have your wedding night in that bed and he's going to be
one-armed.' I'm serious! Well, I certainly didn't think
she was serious at the time. I thought she was just
teasing me."

"Well, I'm sure she's smiling on us now."

"And what a sight we must make!" I miss Melissa. I'm just
glad that Mulder got to meet her, that she recognised who
my soulmate was long before I did. Suddenly for a moment
I feel a warmth envelop me, which I'm sure has nothing to
do with lying with my husband or what we just did. Then
it is gone. I smile. Then I press a kiss to Mulder's
forehead. "Go to sleep, husband. I want you refreshed in
the morning."

"Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes later, like any normal husband who has just
gotten some, he is asleep. I smile, make sure we're
covered, and snuggle against his good shoulder.

xXx

I am still lying here, watching Mulder sleep. It's not
dawn yet, but it really is the dawn of a new age. I feel
a sense of wonder, but also I am learning to think more
as his lover and not as his partner. Perhaps I went a
little too far that way last night, when Mulder and I
were heading up to my old room to sleep. Bill called
Mulder into the living room for a little chat. Mulder
sent me upstairs. He insisted that he would be okay
without backup close at hand. When he came up about five
minutes later, I didn't even check to make sure he was
unscathed - I was too busy figuring out how to get the
damn nightstand out of the way so we could push the beds
together.

Hmmm. Oh well, I'm adapting. I'll strike a more even
balance before our honeymoon is over. I wonder if I
should ask Mulder just what Bill had to say. Perhaps I
will, sometime today. Not this morning though.

Mulder stirs and shifts further into my warmth, even
though I am as closely pressed to him as I can manage. I
lean over and blow air gently in his ear. He opens his
eyes and turns his head fully towards me. He smiles. I
lean over more and kiss him.

"Welcome to the first morning of the rest of our life
together," I say. Technically I may be a few hours early,
but who cares?

His smile deepens. We just watch each other across the
small distance of pillow. Mulder says, "I love being able
to be with you like this. And I don't just mean as in
naked or making love, but just to be able to hold. I
can't wait until I can hold you properly."

"It won't be long. And you're a fast healer."

"Added incentive now..."

Mulder tells me that last night Bill was staring at him
in the kitchen like they were tigers over a suffering
wildebeest.

"This wildebeest isn't suffering at all," I remark,
stretching languidly, deliberately letting the blankets
ride down. Way down, with the help of a push.

Mulder's eyes trace down my body, lingering
appreciatively in a few places. "I think she's morphed
into a tigress. Not that she wasn't already."

I roll over and suck on the top of his left shoulder.
Sounds bizarre, but it allows me to watch his face and
various reactions at the same time. I bite lightly.
"Wanna fool around?"

He gives me a lofty look. "Scully, I refuse to take
advantage of you in your mother's house."

"Fine, then I'll take advantage of you. I'm not the one
in the sling!"

And I proceed to, well, 'rock the house'.

Mmmmm. I've seen Mulder flat on his back many a time in
the hospital or in sleep, but NEVER has he looked so good
to me as he does now. I love this, but I hope Mulder's
arm does heal soon so we can try other positions too,
otherwise I'm going to get severe knee and thigh burn
from all this friction. Ah well, if that's the price that
has to be paid...

And there's the payoff...


END PART ONE OF TWO.

xXx

Again, I am not startled to wake up and find Mulder beside me. It
is too right to feel strange or a mistake. I ease away from him
gently. I want to check the time on my watch. I hope it's not any
later than seven o'cock, er, o'CLOCK yet. Geez, do I have it bad.
Well, I had it very GOOD before, but I'd better not try for
anymore just yet, because we have to get ready for 8:30 Mass.

Good. There's time. We didn't get a full night's sleep, but can
make up for that tonight. Or maybe not... I grin. Anyway, we'd
better get up - in the normal manner of speaking, mind you, not
the hot honeymooner vernacular.

Besides, we're not as young as we used to be. He has to have some
recovery time.

I manage to get into the wardrobe, or one side of it at least
(because the nightstand is slightly in the way), and locate an old
bathrobe. I put it on, deciding to let Mulder sleep for a few more
minutes while I go downstairs and get our things out of the car
(or ask Mom to) so we can change clothes. We didn't have much, but
when we were coming back from Connecticut I did buy us a few
things, so at least we have more underwear. I give him a look as I
unlock the bedroom door. That man is mine. Those marks on him
aren't only from zombie teeth and nails.

I open the door and find that the bags from the department store
have been placed just outside our room. I blink. We did leave the
car keys downstairs on the kitchen counter last night, so did Mom
fetch the bags for us this morning, or is Bill giving us a subtle
hint to get the hell out of the house?

And, if the latter, did he sneak a peek in a bag and see the
decisively devilish and non-Catholic schoolgirl lingerie that his
baby sister had purchased?

I take the bags into our room, then go downstairs, still in my
robe, to see if anyone else is up. I'm not surprised when I enter
the kitchen to find Mom reading the paper, already showered and
dressed.

"Hello, dear, I was just about to come up and knock. Did you see
your bags?" She gets up and hugs me, and we stand there for a long
moment, brought closer by the changes of New Year's Day. Mulder
and I, in finally making ourselves happy, have made her happy
beyond measure too.

But... "Has Bill surfaced yet?"

Mom rolls her eyes. "No. He's still in the living room, more the
worse for wear. He won't be accompanying us to church. Anyway,
what do you and Fox want for breakfast?"

A few minutes later I leave her happily cooking for her expanded
brood while I go upstairs. I have a quick shower, get dressed,
then lean over my husband and stroke his face. "Mulder. Mulder?
Come on, time for your spongebath."

His eyes open. "Now that'll get you up of a morning!" Glee pours
through his words, temporarily banishing his sleepiness.

I pull him into a sitting position. He blinks, still not fully
awake. "Come on, stud, we're on a deadline. I've got your bath
drawn and I've got the breadwrapper."

This really gets his attention. "Breadwrapper? I've seen a lot of
things on a lot of videos, Scully, but I think you're going to
have to enlighten me on that one."

"As cover to protect your stitches if we accidentally get your arm
wet," I explain patiently. He usually uses Saran wrap at home, I
think. "Now get UP!"

"Geez, you've already had two sessions. Cut me a break..." But he
stands and with guidance stumbles to the bathroom closest to our
bedroom.

Soon he is ensconced in the bath and breadwrapper-wrapped and I'm
rubbing his back with a sponge.

He murmurs, "I'm dead and I'm in heaven."

"I don't think they have breadwrap or injuries in heaven." I'm
keeping an eye on the time. I'm trying to be expedient, but not
'swipe and run'. "Lie back - I'll do your front."

He obeys with a contented sigh. Then as I'm working my way
downwards, I make an interesting discovery. "My constant," I
remark, raising my eyebrows.

Mulder looks sheepish and surprised. "I am having a good run."

"Or raise. I'll take it for a marathon session when we're back
home." Whichever apartment we decide on for the day, anyway.

"Okay, I can wait until after breakfast for dessert."

"After church, you mean."

Mulder's eyes pop open. He remembers. "Mass. Oh. Okay." He tries
to cover his dwindled enthusiasm, but on both fronts it is hard to
hide. One problem solved, anyway. "We'd better hurry up then."

"Still some time. When Mom and Dad bought this place, they made
sure it was close to a church."

He nods, trying to look interested. "Um, Scully...about what
they're - I mean, Father McCue - about what he's going to do
today..."

I wait him out as he stumbles. I don't want to second-guess him
and interrupt and be wrong. I really want to hear what he wants to
say. IF he can find the right words to convey it in. I keep my
expression as encouraging as I can manage.

"Um... Is it just going to be the blessing?" The words tumble out
of him in a rush.

"Yes, Mulder. For today, just the blessing of our rings. That's
all. We'll tell Mom and Father McCue that we'll consider the other
options over the next few weeks. Whatever we decide to do, we
couldn't rush in and do it today anyway."

"Good. I mean, I don't mean to sound..." He sighs, looking
embarrassed. "I know it's important to you..."

"I think the blessing will be enough for a start," I say.

"If you do want a church wedding with a Mass and everything, we
can. We got married 'my way' and you didn't get a chance to do the
dress or planning thing, so we can do this next one whatever way
you want, I swear."

"Mulder, that's something we can talk about this week. We'll
decide, then tell Mom and Father McCue. It will be our decision -
you and I - not just what the church considers proper. I know
you're not all that comfortable, that this isn't your faith, so
let's not worry about it today. I'll go over some options and
ideas with you later. Besides, we may not want the entire Bureau
to know about us just yet. Since we're not the most conventional
couple, perhaps we can have a compromise wedding at the reception,
where we don't have to go through the entire hour of Mass. I do
like the idea of something simple, where we actually know when
we're declared man and wife."

Mulder gives me a look that says, 'How can you be so understanding
when I'm not even sure what I was trying to say?'

'Practice,' I send back at him. I'm sure God gave us this silent
communication because He knew that without it we wouldn't get
around to saying anything out loud until too late.

We need time to go over the changes that our lives will undergo.
Sitting Mulder through fifty-five minutes of Mass today will be
enough for a start. I certainly don't want to force him into
attending every week. I like it when he escorts me to church when
we're on a case and sits outside and waits for me. That gesture
means as much to me as if he was sitting beside me. It's his way
of doing so and suits both of us.

Just like how I may not believe in a lot of the paranormal (the
years and what I saw on the beach in Africa have bluntened those
assured edges somewhat), but I still stand beside him in his work
and quest. Support and understanding, even if we don't see
everything in the same way.

I help him dry off, then to get into his clothes and sling. I
wonder how he managed before, all those times he was recovering
from injuries on his own.

Mulder smiles at me. He seems highly amused. "What?" I ask.

"I didn't get a chance to mention this before, but I find your
taste in underwear intriguing." He's referring to the black silk
boxers that I bought him yesterday - I was lucky to find a store
open on New Year's Day. I bought a three pack.

"I just liked seeing you in them."

"Long memory, because I haven't worn black silk since the Cecil
Lively case."

"You really put on a show, I remember," I reply dryly. "Black tux,
canopy bed and all." And not for my benefit either.

He looks off at some unseen horizon, and the look isn't entirely
happy. "I remember what I was thinking at the time: I want Scully,
but I deserve Phoebe."

"Oh, Mulder..." I say quietly.

Then he changes the subject. "And what about these jeans you
bought me?"

"What about them? They fit. I know your size."

"I'm impressed that you brought ones that are REALLY snug around
the ass."

"I can look openly now, Mulder, as well as touch. I have a ring to
say so. And I intend to make the most of it." I give him a sound
pat on that tight ass of his, then run my hand possessively over
the denim.

He grins even wider. "And that black bra and panty set you
bought..." Ah yes, the ones that had two strips of material
crossing each breast to form an X. "Talk about X marking the
spot!"

"You said you had a dream about me in underwear like that, in the
office."

"I wasn't asleep in the office when I had it. Though I made sure I
kept replaying it."

"You know what I mean. What was I doing in this dream?"

"Scully, I don't think now is a good time."

I fold my arms and wait.

He holds up one hand in surrender. "Okay, in brief, you were
sitting there at your desk, typing, wearing that, then you took
off your glasses and did this Xena flip-and-leap combo through the
air to land on top of my desk. You looked down at me and told me
to get up there. I did. In several interpretations of the phrase."

Well now...

"Breakfast's ready!" I'm sure that's not the first time that Mom's
called out to us. I tell my hormones to cool it and steer my
husband downstairs.

"If we eat fast, we won't be late..." I hope.

"I missed the Rose Bowl," Mulder says as we enter the kitchen and
he sees the front page of the paper.

I raise myself up to his ear. "You were doing plenty of scoring
yourself," I murmur.

"Yeah, but they won't show the highlights of THAT on ESPN!" He
drops the leer when he remembers that Mom is in the room.

"Sleep well?" she asks, keeping a straight face.

Mulder manages one of his own. "Slept like a log." We certainly
did, between sessions.

"Who could sleep?" Bill grouses, appearing in the doorway, then
stumbling to hunch at the kitchen table, holding his head, darting
an angry look at Mulder. Mulder calmly ignores him.

I have no sympathy for my brother. His attitude towards Mulder,
towards my choice of husband, hurts me, but I'm not going to let
that blight things.

I wonder if Bill is so sick because of the beers or because of
what he heard last night? Because he knows that the mover and
shaker last night was me, not Mulder. Yes, Bill. Little sister is
a firebrand and the man currently at the sink is her match.

At least Bill isn't keeping up a running glare at Mulder. Raising
his head high enough to lock gazes must send the drum in his head
pounding even more loudly. Good. Serves him right.

"What are you going to do this afternoon?" Mom asks, pouring
coffee.

I reply, "We have to contact Skinner," though perhaps not tell him
about our new status just yet. After all, he has us on mandatory
leave after the zombie shootings - or whatever they were. We can
honeymoon around our counselling sessions, as Mulder wisecracked
while he was in the bath. "And go shopping for a ring." And try
out my bed. "Phone some relatives to give the good news."

Bill groans loudly. We all ignore him. Too bad he has today to
recover, otherwise he would have cut a fine figure while out on
his naval business.

Soon Mom, Mulder and I are heading out the door to Mass. Mulder
doesn't look reluctant or resigned, which makes me love him all
the more.

I tug on his sleeve to hold him back a moment, out of Mom's
earshot. "Mulder, if you want something to think about during
Mass, think about the fact that I'm wearing rather daringly cut
teal blue panties and a matching bra, and also think that what's
in them is all yours once we get home." I start to wonder whether
giving him this info is such a good idea. He's getting that
bedroom eyes look again. "But don't think too HARD, okay? I have
to be able to go back to that church again and look Father McCue
in the eye."

"I wonder how much of the congregation could concentrate if they
knew THAT little detail!" He grins and puts his arm around me.
"Come on, wife. Let's go get blessed."

If we can be blessed any more than we already are, of course. But,
with us, it's good to have all the backup we can get.


THE END (PART TWO OF TWO).

"Hey, Vickie, catch!" <hurls the baton across cyberspace and the
ocean>

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was nearly called "Searching for a Title in
the New Millennium". Asking friends (i.e. the beta readers) for
inspiration produced lots of suggestions, including: "Night of the
Living Millennium", "The Millennium That Ate Chicago", "More Sex
Please, We're Married", "A Hard Time in the New Millennium", "What
Goes Up, Must Come In, Ah, Down", "Breaking the Drought in the New
Millennium" or "I Thought Ten Was A Nice Country Girl But
Apparently She Reads Too Much NC-17".

Gerry and Sally... Just wait until you want me to beta for YOU
two! LOL.