From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 29 Feb 2004 01:51:18 -0000
Subject: NEW: New Millennium: Wedding Marches and First Dances 1 of 4 (R) by Vickie Moseley and Ten
Source: direct
Reply To: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com, kristina@ocean.com.au
TITLE: "New Millennium: Wedding Marches and First
Dances"
(1/4)
BY: Vickie Moseley and Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESSES: vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com and
kristena@ocean.com.au
CATEGORY: V; MSR (Married); AU
RATING: R to be on the safe side - for consensual
adult situations and some language
SUMMARY: The lead up to Mulder and Scully's renewal
of vows, including the introduction of the new X-
Files agent, then The Day, the reception and the
wedding night <G>.
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This is part our "New
Millennium" series, which goes into alternate
universe after 'Millennium' (with Mulder and Scully
getting married). Mulder still gets abducted in
Oregon, but only for six weeks, and the new agents
we're introducing to the X-Files are our own
creations. At the start of this story, Scully is
about four months pregnant and planning their renewal
of vows. The stories are on Ten's website (see
below). As self-contained as we try to make each
installment, reading the others first would probably
be a good idea ;)
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.
The stories in this series are available at Ten's
website, thanks to the wonderful Arria:
http://ten.bitter-moon.com/xf
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.
xXx
Mulder's point of view:
The countdown
Sometime before the wedding
I admit to being a little shell-shocked when I walked
out of Skinner's office. It was bad enough waking up
from a living nightmare to discover I had already
been replaced by one agent. Mind you, my loving wife
had reassured me that Agent Michels was _not_ my
replacement, merely an extra pair of hands. And
Michels had proven herself useful, helping Scully
during an incredibly stressful period. But almost
all of the cases Scully and I would have investigated
had received 'desk reviews' or had been shelved due
to the ongoing search for yours truly. So I come
home to find out that not only do we have a new
person in the office, not much has been done in my
absence.
Now, not 3 hours since setting foot in the Hoover
again, I'm told we'll be adding another member to our
'team'. How we got from 'partners' and the scourge
of the Bureau to 'Team X Files' I will never know.
But beyond that, I now have to go to tell my wife
that we're going to be moving offices, adding a new
person and all this while she's knee deep in
preparations for our wedding.
I just got to feeling really good and now I'm gonna
get my ass kicked by a 5 foot 2 pregnant woman!
So I decided discretion, or in this case,
procrastination, was the better part of valor. I
made a trip up to the labs to say hi to a few people
who admit to knowing me. Danny was thrilled to see
me back at work, it's been a long play-off season for
baseball without my connections to get him good
seats. He was beginning to fear for football and
basketball as well, but I reassured him that soon the
universe, as we knew it would be back in order.
I even made a pass through the cafeteria to grab a
cup of fairly bad coffee. One would think that in
the three months I'd been gone and on medical leave,
someone would have changed the filter in the coffee
urn. Or maybe it was just that Scully has been
spoiling me lately. Anyway, after glancing at my
watch and realizing it was getting close to my doctor
appointed quitting time, I knew I couldn't put it off
any longer.
I trudged woefully down to the basement, thought
twice about opening the door, almost ran back up the
stairs, but finally walked hesitantly into our
office.
Michels was sitting at her table, near the back room.
Basically, since I was back, I sat at my desk and
Scully sat at hers. I guess while I'd been gone
Scully had been sitting at my desk and given Michels
hers. Suddenly I had to get Michels a desk and some
new bozo one, too? This was asking too much of some
guy on his first day back in months!
Scully was on the phone and did not look pleased.
"No, no, no. I told you, the place will be crawling
with roses! I don't want _more_ roses. I want
carnations and lilies. Yes, I said lilies, white
lilies, cannas, Easter, I don't care, just white
lilies. Oh, come now, there must be some South
American country where lilies are blooming at this
time of year! NO, I can't hold . . . fuck! The
bastard put me on hold again!"
I bit my lip and slunk into my chair. Michels looked
up from the file she was pretending to read and gave
me a sympathetic half smile. "Has this been going on
long?" I asked in a voice that I hoped would go
undetected by the whirling dervish at the desk just
inches away.
"About half an hour," Michels whispered back. "But
she's only called two florists in that time."
"And no body has lilies, I take it," I deducted from
the way the one-sided conversation was going.
"I guess you have to order them in the spring. Or
move to Argentina," Michels answered, then looked
embarrassed by her 'intrusion'. "Not that I'm
eavesdropping, of course!"
"No, of course not," I said with a shake of my head.
At that exact moment, Scully slammed down the phone.
"That tears it. I have to waste a perfectly good
lunch hour running all over Georgetown to find white
lilies!"
"Scully, why don't you get some other flower," I
suggested meekly. "Maybe something in season. Like
those big mums I've seen in flower shop windows."
You would have thought I'd offered to marry her in
the nude! No, come to think of it, she probably
would have jumped at that offer. Unfortunately, the
offer I made just had her jump down my throat.
"Football mums!" she howled. "You honestly want to
marry me when I'll be carrying football mums in my
bridal bouquet?"
"Probably . . . not?" I replied quickly, sensing
impending doom no matter what my response had been.
"Mulder, if you want to help, call the tux rental
place and make sure they have the sizes that Charlie
and Bill faxed them yesterday. And please, leave the
flowers to me!" With that pronouncement, she tugged
her purse out of the bottom desk drawer and stormed
out of the office. Three seconds later, she was
back. "Will you hurry up? I have to drop you off at
home and then find the lilies."
"Scully, I'm feeling pretty good. Maybe I can try to
make it . . ."
"Don't even start, Mulder. Move it, and I mean now!"
I looked over at Michels for some moral support. The
poor woman had her nose buried so deep in the file
folder she was in danger of smearing the ink. No
help from that quarter.
Quietly, I gathered my jacket and followed her out
the door. The discussion of a new agent was just
going to have to wait.
I spent the afternoon puttering around the house. I
was still really getting used to the place when I
went missing, so it was time to really figure it out.
I liked how Scully had set up the kitchen almost
exactly as we had it at her apartment. I could find
almost everything. The pantry, which I remember as a
huge empty room, was kind of neat and cozy with cans
and boxes on the shelves. I found a case of my
favorite bottled iced tea and a box of pop tarts.
Since Scully had set out some left-overs for my
lunch, I decided the pop tarts would make a fair
dessert. Then I went about finding the ingredients
for my famous Mulder spaghetti, which I planned to
surprise Scully with when she got home from a hard
day of hunting the illusive white lily.
I must have dozed off, but fortunately I'd put the
sauce on simmer. Scully was standing over the pot
with a spoon halfway to her lips when I reached
around her and gave her a hug. She jerked, but
didn't drop the spoon.
"You were supposed to be resting," she scolded me,
but I knew she didn't mean it.
"I was resting, I just woke up," I reminded her.
After a few 'hello' kisses, we both put the rest of
the dinner on the table and sat down to eat. I got
up the nerve to ask her about the lilies.
"I found them in a shop right downtown," she said
with a relieved sigh. "They're a little expensive
this time of year . . ."
"Money is no object," I quoted yet again. I wanted
this wedding to be something she always remembered,
but in a good way -- not complete with zombie
scratches and borrowed rings.
"So, you never said what Skinner wanted this morning.
Just a 'welcome back' speech?" she asked.
Well, since she'd brought it up . . . "Not exactly.
That, of course, but he had something else to talk
about."
"Not a new case? The doctor hasn't released you for
field duty yet."
"No, actually, nothing to do with my going out to the
field or a new case. There's no other way to say
this: they're sending us another one."
She stared at me blankly. "Another 'what'?"
"Agent, Scully. We're getting another one."
She still wasn't clued in to what I was talking
about.
"Scully, Skinner assigned a new agent to the X
files," I said, picking up my plate and hers and
taking them to the sink to rinse before putting them
in the dishwasher.
"Yes, Andrea Michels," she replied with a confused
expression.
"No, Calvin Wolfe. Fairly young, definitely male."
She crossed her arms and gave me the look. I was a
little resentful. Where was Skinner, shouldn't he
have gotten 'the look' instead of me? I was an
innocent bystander in this whole parade of agents,
after all!
"Two more agents? Where the hell are we going to put
them, dangle them from the ceiling tiles? Oh, wait,
that's where the bugs are, we can't mess up our
covert surveillance, can we?"
I saved the nice serving bowl I'd put the sauce in by
grabbing it out of her hands before she had the
chance to dash it to the floor.
"Scully, we're getting a new office, too. Well,
really, they're tearing out the wall between our
office and the janitor's closet and making us a
'suite'. X Files meets 'Trading Places'," I said
with a grin. "You and I both have our own offices
and the two new kids get desks out in the 'common
area'. Our own little bullpit, Scully. And while
all the dust and hammering is going on, we'll move to
some temporary quarters up on the fourth or fifth
floor." I closed the dishwasher door and turned to
take her in a hug. "I think this was meant as some
kind of promotion."
She reared back from me, giving me a hard look. "You
seem awfully calm about this," she retorted.
"I'll admit, I was a little peeved," I countered. At
her raised eyebrow, I relented a little more. "OK, I
was totally pissed off."
"So what changed your mind?" she asked, still
regarding me like a bug under a microscope.
I dropped my hand from her back and slid it around so
that it was resting on her stomach -- right over our
unborn child. I rubbed her tummy for a moment,
looking only into her eyes.
She nodded, as understanding and acceptance finally
overwhelmed her. We spoke no more of it that
evening. We were much too busy with other activities
to care.
END PART ONE OF FOUR
VICKIE'S FLOWER NOTE: Football mums, as every corn-
fed US Midwestern girl will tell you, are those
really big mums that are used in corsages at High
School and College Homecoming Dances. I'm sure they
have another name (Large Mums, maybe), but I don't
know what that is.
2/4
xXx
Scully's journal -
T minus a few days and counting:
My mind keeps running over the list of things I still
need to do and get in order for all to be prepared
for The Day.
I'm probably giving myself and the baby a headache,
even Mulder too, though our 'link' seems to be quiet
at the moment. Perhaps we've just been too busy to
use it. So to try to throw my racing thoughts into
reverse, I start thinking of the things that are
already done.
I have the perfect dress. Empire line, so there is no
waist to worry about adjusting. I know how I want my
hair done - piled in curls to match the era. Sort of
how you see it in those adaptations of Jane Austin's
novels. No veil. Mulder bought me a beautiful hair
comb as a present that I'm going to wear as well. He
found it in a little shop in Georgetown - it has
pieces of Cowrie shells inlaid in it, and the colors
are incredible. Iridescent blues and greens like
those found in a peacock's tail. Trust Mulder to find
something so beautiful and unusual.
With a lot of effort I was able to find lilies to go
in my bouquet. I nearly had to instigate an APB to
find some, but it was worth it. I didn't even HAVE a
bouquet the first time we got married, so I wanted
one this time.
The groom. Definitely got him! Check. My man saw that
I had scheduled naptime into the morning of the
wedding and he joked, "You're so organized that I
wouldn't be surprised if you have a bucket wreathed
with flowers sitting near us when we're making our
vows, in case you get morning sickness!"
And we have the wedding rings. When Mulder came back
from his abduction without his ring, I had planned to
get him another. But Mulder's 'friend' from the UFO
appeared to him and gave it back. I'm just glad that
the depression that my husband was sliding into has
been halted. The frequency of his nightmares has
eased and he hasn't tried to sleep out on the couch
again.
xXx
One more day, one more day . . . .
I need a break from thinking about The Wedding for at
least an hour or so.
Our new X-Files agent, Cal, is doing very well. He
and Andrea are coming to the wedding (not together,
apparently). I was tempted to ask him to be the main
usher, thanks to his beautiful manners.
Strange to think that he hasn't been with us for very
long.
On Agent Callum Wolfe's first day, Mulder and I
decided to meet the new guy together, and then
introduce him to Michels in a few hours. So we sent
her off to do some research. As she left, I heard her
mutter: "A fox AND a wolf. Great . . . ."
She probably suspected that her request for a
transfer was going to be denied, so she wasn't in the
greatest mood to begin with. But soon we might be
able to finally give her some field experience, which
will help her odds of success the next time she
applies for a transfer. ("Might make them into
'evens'," Mulder had joked to me.)
If Andrea Michels looks a bit like that lovely Lucy
Lui from 'Charlie's Angels', then Callum Wolfe looks
like that gorgeous Tom Wellings from 'Judging Amy'.
That actor deserves his own series, and I hope he
gets it soon! As a leading man he'd be super.
Our new agent came in, confident and smiling, shaking
our hands. "It's an honor to meet you both. Cal Wolfe
reporting for duty."
It looked like he was still keeping up whatever
exercise regime he had when he served in the Marines,
though fortunately not the crew cut. Muscular, but
not overly so, at least as far as I could tell in his
well-tailored suit. And he carried himself well.
"You'll get to meet the other member of the team,
Agent Michels, soon," I explained.
Mulder gestured at an empty seat, while we both moved
to sit in our own, but this young agent came around
and held my chair out for me. My husband wasn't the
only one who blinked in surprise. "Thank you," I
said, and sat, wondering if he was being over-
solicitous to the pregnant woman - but not many
people at the Bureau knew about my condition at that
stage. Perhaps some major sucking up then, but as Cal
Wolfe took his chair in front of us, he seemed to be
genuine. Well, well . . . .
Mulder cut right to the chase. "Your file makes
mention of a very interesting incident in the
Australian Outback when you were younger," he said.
Wolfe nodded, not looking embarrassed or
uncomfortable about the subject being raised. "Up
close with a UFO."
"I'd like to hear more about your encounter, if
that's all right. The details are a little sketchy."
"Sure. Jump in with questions when you like. Twenty
years ago I was on a camping trip in the Australian
Outback with one of my uncles."
So he was twelve when it happened. That age seems to
be the charm . . . .
Wolfe went on to explain that on the third night they
had stopped at a camping site that was fairly off the
beaten track, and they were the only people around.
"Uncle Rob and I were sitting outside his caravan,
looking at the stars. I wanted him to get his
telescope out so we could have an even better look,
but he checked his watch and said it was late, or
late for me to be up, anyway, and that we could get
out the telescope on the next night. It was 11.31
pm."
The young agent paused for a moment, asking with his
eyes whether we had any questions. Then he continued.
"As my uncle was getting up, he stared off eastward.
I looked, and there was something in the sky over the
horizon. It was not a star. It was large and blue,
triangular, and had these incredible colors - red,
yellow, orange - flashing across it. We just stared.
Uncle Rob grabbed my hand. I'm not sure if he was
about to pick me up and run in the car or what. I
wanted to get a camera or binoculars, but before
either of us could say or do anything, the UFO moved
towards us and suddenly it was right overhead, just
hovering. It hadn't made a sound. It moved incredibly
fast and smoothly, and seemed to take up about a
third of the sky." Wolfe gave us a frank look.
"Honestly, I was too amazed to be frightened."
"Then there was a bright light? Cool and hot at the
same time, according to your file," Mulder said.
"Yes. It seemed to come from the middle of the
underbelly of the craft. It didn't hurt. There were
so many colors - even some I'm not sure actually
exist! Not here, anyway. My uncle said the same
later. Then the light was gone and we couldn't see
anything. Not the craft or the stars or each other. I
could feel Uncle Rob still holding onto my hand and
he was asking me if I was all right. He said he
couldn't see either. Then I started to feel
frightened that I was blind for good, but a few
seconds later our sight began to come back. There was
no sign of the UFO and once Uncle Rob was sure that I
was okay, he looked at his watch. Since he'd looked
at it just before the craft appeared, we knew for
sure that nine minutes had gone. The next morning, we
couldn't see any trace of anything strange or
different at the camp."
"The top of the caravan wasn't scorched?" Mulder
asked.
"Not that I know of," Wolfe replied. "I wish my uncle
was still alive - he died seven years ago. It would
be an interesting question to ask him. And ever since
that night, I've wanted to know more. That UFO was
incredible. Beautiful."
"Trust me, they're not as nice on the inside," my
husband told him without a trace of wryness, a
comment to which Wolfe nodded seriously in response.
"I wasn't taken or mindwiped. No implants or probes.
Same with Uncle Rob."
Mulder said, "Those who experience only nine minutes
of missing time rarely are abducted. Agent Scully and
I have had the 'nine minuters' happen to us at least
twice together."
"So you believe in UFOs and aliens," I asked Wolfe.
"Absolutely," he replied without hesitation. "The
craft I saw was too large and incredible to be made
by humans."
"And do you believe in anything else paranormal?"
"It's a large and strange world. I'm sure there is a
lot out there. I guess I'm more 'show me first' with
such things, but I wouldn't dismiss them out of hand
either."
It sounded like he'll be quicker on the paranormal
uptake than me. But at least he won't swallow things
whole without checking first.
And since then I have found that Wolfe is the real
deal. His manners are so polished that they shine,
yet there is no fakery or snobbery in his manner.
Like Mulder, he comes from money but doesn't act like
it. And like Mulder, others might find his ideas and
ideals somewhat strange, but he doesn't care. There
are also signs of steel under that silk exterior.
As for Andrea . . . .
I still remember the looks that Michels gave Wolfe
when he kept standing up when she entered the room,
and with the chair thing. Then there was the first
time that I sent them off together on an errand.
Mulder was out of the office, and Wolfe escorted
Michels through the doorway, putting his hand on her
back. I saw Andrea stiffen at the contact and I knew
what was about to happen.
Before she could whirl around and give him a piece of
her mind or the whole of her fist, I hastily called
out her name. Both of them turned and looked at me,
startled. "Michels, I need to see you. Wolfe, go out
to the car; she'll be with you in a minute."
"Okay." He looked puzzled, but too polite to call me
on it. Though I'm sure that if I was a suspect or a
witness he'd have found a way. "Excuse me."
As soon as he was gone, Michels exploded. "Did you
see that? How dare he do that!"
"Andrea! Calm down and sit down for a moment. I've
been watching him and I saw that. I can assure you he
didn't mean anything by it other than courtesy. There
was no impropriety or pawing. He was simply being a
gentleman."
"A gentleman?" she spluttered in disbelief.
"Yes, and they're such a dying breed that we don't
tend to recognize one when we see him."
"Has he never heard of women's liberation? And there
was no need to touch me. I can get through a doorway
by myself - I don't need to be guided!" she said,
fuming.
"Yes, we are capable of doing things for ourselves,
but this is simply a chivalrous gesture. It was
sweet. Mulder used to do that with me. He still
does."
The expression on Michels' face said: 'Yes, and look
how that's turned out! I rest my case.' But she held
her tongue.
I couldn't help but suggest with a grin, "Next time,
how about you hold the door for him and say 'My
turn,' and that will also give you the chance to
check out his rear when he goes through."
She stared at me, wondering if she had heard
correctly.
"I'm joking, Andrea. Though I have heard that a lot
of women in this building do just that when he's
walking by."
She considered for a moment, then started laughing.
I continued, "I think that he has just been raised in
a very old-fashioned way, and that's not to say it's
wrong. However, if the hand moves any lower or
higher when he escorts you through a doorway or he
does anything inappropriate, then you have my full
permission to deck him. And of course, if you really
do have a problem with Wolfe touching you, let him
know. Then tell me if it still continues and I'll
take action."
Andrea nodded, looking mollified. "I understand."
"Good. Now your partner is waiting."
A day after that, when we were alone in the office
again, I asked how things were on that front. Michels
gave a wry smile. "All right. I'd call him KISA for
'Knight In Shining Armour', however the sound of it
could be misconstrued. I know Marines are supposed to
have impeccable manners but this is off the scale!
Lucky for him he was never in a real battle
situation, otherwise he'd insist that the opposition
shoot at him first . . . . 'After you . . . .'"
I commented, "It does say something about him that he
has maintained that level of politeness and
gallantry. Marines do get impeccable manners drilled
into them at boot camp, but it comes across as very
stiff and formal. With Cal, it's so natural, like
he's been doing it for all of his life. And I think
when the situation calls for it, he's up to the
challenge."
She hasn't asked him to stop the hand-on-the-back
when it occurs - yet - probably because she can see
what I mean about him doing it only out of politeness
and that hand not straying any further. And she is
hoping to be out of here soon anyway.
My other impressions of our new guy: Cal Wolfe is
also fascinated by the world around him. He's not
afraid to ask questions and usually does, is
extremely observant, and has a very open, happy
personality. He's usually grinning, and not in an
off-putting way either. He's not obnoxious, but a
little cocky at times. Perhaps a little gullible.
Mulder has come around to having this new team member
'dumped' on us, especially with Cal's enthusiasm and
willingness. The interaction between them could
easily develop in time like that of two brothers -
though no bullying is involved, like I saw Bill do
sometimes towards Charlie. And I'm sure that once
Mulder is back on full field agent status that he and
Cal will disappear during some lunch breaks to play
basketball.
In short, Cal Wolfe might turn out to be just what
Mulder needs. I think he'll prove to be an asset to
the team.
My husband also thinks that Wolfe might be just what
Andrea needs. When we were alone in the office a few
days ago, he told me, "Those two are perfect for each
other. I wonder if it's going to take them as long to
realize and do something about it as we did?"
I just gave him a look, too busy juggling paperwork
and some pressing wedding issues to give him the odds
on that little match ever happening. Or to have a
lively debate about it, especially when the two
people in question could possibly overhear. It was
enough of a miracle that Mulder and I ever got
together, without thinking that lightning - or
Cupid's arrows - will strike twice in the X-Files
division.
Time will tell.
In-between me organizing all these wedding details,
Andrea and I have had some great intellectual and
theoretical conversations - especially with her
having a chemical engineering physics degree. I look
forward to having even more when all this is behind
us.
After our honeymoon, Mulder will be back on full time
work. And the work on remodeling and expanding our
basement office is going well. Even according to
schedule. Soon we'll be able to move down there
again. Which is good, because I do miss it there.
Mulder told me he expected me to blow my top when he
first gave me the news about us getting a new agent
and moving offices on top of the wedding and
pregnancy. But fortunately I had incompetent idiots
to channel it all at in the course of arranging this
and that for The Day, and Skinner organized for
everything to be moved for us by people we trusted.
Though all that upheaval has probably been a
contributing factor in the division being so quiet,
case-wise, lately. That should all change soon.
An extra person will be very handy, especially
considering Mulder has just come back from sick leave
and that I'm expecting (and bound to start expanding
soon). And Wolfe is a wiz at computers - another
brownie point in his favor. A _big_ one.
More room in the basement will be great - "Hope they
remember to have room for a little nursery alcove,"
Mulder joked - and we get adjoining offices. How
romantic . . . .
xXx
The Day (no time to write in journal!):
I just wanted a beautiful, relaxed day for our
wedding. I figured that if I got as much as possible
sorted out beforehand, then even though there was
still a lot to do that could only be done on the day
itself, it would run like clockwork. That's the least
we deserve.
So I planned our wedding day carefully - it's a mid-
afternoon ceremony, with time for me to have a nap
before I start getting ready.
Of course, that was before I discovered that the
boutonnieres I picked out for Mulder, the Gunmen,
Skinner, Bill and Charlie were sent to a church in
Falls Church, Virginia and we received, of all
things, tiger lilies in their stead. Now, I love a
good tiger lily as much as the next person, but they
don't exactly blend well with the rose garden motif I
had planned. Then, when the decorators called from
the Library, they mentioned that 15 tables had been
delivered for the reception, but only 24 chairs. I
ordered 10 tables and 40 chairs, since we managed to
invite not only Skinner, but most of the Bureau. I
don't expect everyone to show up, but then Mom added
a few names to the list and it got completely out of
hand.
I woke up late, of course. My husband/groom, in his
infinite wisdom, decided to turn off the alarm clock
so that I could catch up on my 'beauty rest'. OK,
that's as good as saying I _need_ to sleep because
I'm not looking that great! And what does he do
while I'm sawing logs when there are a million and
one things to do in the house? He went out running,
took a shower and then left the house to do
'errands'. Just like a typical Saturday! He left the
house just after 9 and it's a quarter to noon with no
sign of him.
If he leaves me at the altar this time, I'll divorce
the bastard on the spot!
I hear people going up and down the hallway at
intervals, but can tell that none of them are my
husband. My nephew Matty is easy enough to pick as he
thunders by. Charlie's kids are staying with his
wife's parents in Maine for the long weekend,
otherwise they'd be racing around too. I'm trying to
find the bag from Victoria's Secrets with the slip I
bought to go under my dress when Mom taps on our
bedroom door.
"Sweetheart, the caterer just called. They want to
know if you arranged for dry ice for the salmon?"
I turn and stare at her. "What salmon? I didn't
order salmon. Charlie's allergic to salmon, Mom."
"I know that, dear," Mom says, with a look that only
she can give. "I'm his mother. I know all my
children's allergies. But that doesn't answer the
question for the caterer now, does it?"
"Mom, I didn't order salmon!" I restate emphatically.
"And what the hell are we paying for if they don't
provide the refrigeration for the food they serve?
I'm not giving all our guests food poisoning and
paying them for the privilege!"
"Maybe you should talk to the man," Mom says, a
little defensively.
I need to find that slip! "Mom, have you seen a pink
and white striped bag in the closet? I picked it up
last week and put it in here and now I can't find
it."
"Maybe Fox moved it, sweetheart. He was helping me
put some dry cleaning away and there were a number of
bags on the floor. I thought I heard him say
something about the spare bedroom closet."
I start out the door for the spare bedroom but Mom
grabs my arm. "Dana, the caterer," she says and
points to the phone by our bed.
I grab the phone, ready to do battle. After fifteen
minutes of trying to understand the man, who is
obviously a recent immigrant from Korea, I am able to
get through to him that this is the MULDER wedding,
not the MUELLER wedding and we do not have salmon on
the menu. Once that is settled, I hang up the phone
and sit on the bed.
What the hell was I looking for?
And then, in breezes my husband/groom.
"Hey, babe, aren't you supposed to be taking a nap?"
he asks, all sweetness and concern.
"Why? Didn't I get enough 'beauty rest' for you?" I
fire back.
I must admit, he has the good grace to blush. "You
looked so cute, all curled up under the blankets. You
didn't sleep that late and you needed the rest."
"For future reference, Agent Fox William Mulder, _I_
will be the judge of how much rest I need, thank you
very much!" I didn't even know I was mad at him
until I hear my voice yelling at him.
He now looks totally perplexed. "Where the hell did
that come from?" he asks, fists now planted on each
hip. "What did I do to deserve that?"
"What did you do? I'll tell you what you did:
Nothing!! Not one goddamned thing! You have been
absolutely silent on every decision made for this
wedding. When I wanted to pick out the flower
arrangements, you told me to pick out what ever I
wanted. When I wanted to pick out the tux, you told
me to get the one I liked. When I talked to the
caterers, you had no opinion at all on the menu!
You, Mr. 'if it's not greasy spoon, I don't think my
stomach can handle it', sat there and let me pick a
meal fit for the Queen of England at high tea and
said absolutely nothing!!! That is what you've
done!!" I can't seem to get a breath through my nose
and now water is coming from my eyes and I have no
idea why this is happening to me on our wedding day.
"Nothing? Nothing, you say! Well, let me tell you
something Agent Dana Katherine Scully! I didn't have
any opinion on this whole shebang because I wanted
you to have _your day_! That's right, Scully, _your
day_! I got to pick the last wedding and that was
nice enough, but this time, I wanted you to have the
fun -"
"Fun? HA!" I interrupt but he ignores me completely.
"- of picking out all the nice stuff yourself!
Scully, I'm a complete cad! You knew that when you
first met me and if you've forgotten it, I'm sorry. I
couldn't plan a wedding with Emily Post and Amy
Vanderbilt acting as my guides! I'm a total loser,
and I can't imagine why in the world you would agree
to marry me ONCE, much less twice, but I guess I'm
just damned lucky!" he yells at the top of his lungs.
And suddenly, I launch myself at him, turn him in an
180 that would do my hand-to-hand instructor at the
Academy proud and in less than 2 minutes, we are
naked and going at it on our bed like it's our first
time together. It takes Mulder all of a second to
figure out what is happening and he joins in the
merriment with full vigor. I'm kissing and stroking
and being kissed and being stroked and we're fighting
with the comforter and it falls to the floor and
somehow a shoe is wedged under my hip and Mulder
tosses it over his shoulder like a wine glass into
the flame, but thank god, we don't hear the sound of
glass breaking when it hits its unintended target,
the window. And then there's no sound but our heavy
breathing, and soft moans and Mulder nibbling at my
ear and sighing 'Scully, love you, love you, love
you' and my sobbing, but it's a happy, joyful sound
mingled with 'forever, Mulder, love you forever' and
then I crying out and he's crying out and we fly . .
.
I come around to the sound of a tap on the door. Oh
shit.
"Um, yeah?" I call out. Mulder's eyes start roaming
around trying to find the boxers I think might have
landed under the chair near the window.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry to wake you," Mom says through
the door. "I was just wondering, have you seen Fox?"
Um, yes, Mom. ALL of him!
Mulder turns bright red, almost as if my mother has
caught us making love in my room when we were
supposed to studying for our high school chemistry
final. Then, he's laughing. It's a quiet laugh at
first, but soon turns into a full belly laugh. I
smack his arm, but only half-heartedly. I try to
answer Mom through my own giggles.
"Mom, Mulder's in here, with me. What do you need?"
There is silence on the other side of the door. "Oh,
well, OK. Um, Dana, the decorators just called back.
They found the other 26 chairs and they're bringing
20 more just in case. Oh, and Cal, the sweetie, ran
out to the florist supply house and found the most
perfect boutonnieres. I tried to pay him for them,
but he said to consider them his wedding present to
you."
I lie back on the bed, naked as the day I was born,
and pull my husband close to me. It is true.
Sometimes all you need is a good lay. "Thanks, Mom."
I lean over and kiss Mulder tenderly. "We'll be up in
a minute."
"That's fine, Sweetheart. Take your time. Just
remember, you are getting married today." I swear I
can hear a smile in her voice.
We hear her walk away. Mulder has managed to bring
his merriment under control. "So, babe, do you still
want to marry me?" he asks.
"I believe so. After all, I know what I'm getting,
don't I? In many departments!" I give a look
downwards that threatens to send him off again - into
laughter, that is. "So today is 'my day'?" I ask.
"Yeah, to make up for the rushed and unexpected
ceremony I gave you the last time."
"Mulder, that ceremony was one of the most moving and
happy times of my life." I smile at him, then pause
for a moment of reflection. "And another reason it
worked so well was probably because there was no
planning to screw it up!"
"You could have said no," my husband reminds me.
"That would have certainly screwed things up big
time. Then it would have been quite a long and quiet
trip back from Connecticut. . . ."
"Well, I wanted today to be perfect, not for me, but
for you."
"Me?" he asks in surprise.
"Yes, because you're home and safe and we're together
and expecting, and it's supposed to be perfect now.
It's the least that the universe owes us!" Damn, I'm
nearly crying again.
He reaches out and tenderly strokes my face.
I think back over the last weeks and say wryly,
"Planning a wedding is stressful enough at the best
of times, without adding pregnancy hormones into the
mix. Perhaps we should elope this time too."
"Tempting. Very tempting. And so are you. . . ."
Mulder starts nibbling at my shoulder.
I give him a light slap on the rear. "Save it for our
wedding night. Unfortunately, we'd better get a move
on."
"Hopefully we're not too far behind your schedule,
though I have to say, that little deviation was well
worth it."
We share wicked little grins. "Absolutely," I agree.
"The groom isn't supposed to see the bride in her
wedding dress before the ceremony, but this was the
birthday suit! And a very happy birthday with many
happy returns it was."
"Well, _my_ birthday is coming up very soon . . . ."
Mulder points out. He gets up, then leans down for
another kiss. "Can't wait to see you in your dress.
You're going to look so beautiful."
When we leave our bedroom, I feel serene. Even when
Charlie nervously tells me that Matthew (who he was
supposed to keep an eye on) somehow managed to smear
some chocolate on his tux on its hanger, it doesn't
phase me.
END PART TWO OF FOUR
3/4
xXx
Cal's point of view.
I'm not so much for these fancy gatherings. But when
the invitation came to attend my bosses' wedding,
well, it's just darned hard to find an excuse. It's
like Mom is always telling me, when you get invited,
people are counting on you to come. To turn them
down would not only be impolite, I've come to like
the Mulders.
I couldn't help but think it was a little weird,
having a full wedding when they're already married.
Apparently it has to do with Agent Mulder's return
from his purported alien abduction, something I'm
still picking up on through the office grapevine and
the little Andrea -- er, Agent Michels has let slip
during our few conversations. I'm not saying Agent
Mulder wasn't abducted by aliens, I think there is
substantial evidence to support that conclusion. I'm
just saying, well, once married, always married. Why
go through it all twice? But it seems this is more a
'reception' for the family and friends who didn't get
to attend the first wedding and that I can
understand. Who can argue with a good excuse for a
party, right?
It's been a strange three weeks since I started with
the X Files Division. Most of my time has been going
through old files, making myself familiar with the
kinds of cases we investigate. I haven't had this
much fun since the Academy! I started with what I
thought would be some easy ones - Alien Abduction is
a drawer unto itself, and boy, did I get an eyeful!
I tried talking over some of the cases with Agent
Michels, but apparently she is not the talkative
type.
The wedding has been the 'elephant in the parlor' in
the office. Agent Scully-Mulder, as diligent as she
appears to be, was caught up doing much of the
preparations in the last week and has been rather
preoccupied. Agent Mulder was still on part-time,
not having full clearance from his doctor to return
to work on a full time basis. Agent Michels spent
most of the week in the stacks, I guess researching
some of the still open cases. I'll just be glad when
this wedding is over, Agent Mulder is back full time
and we can get started with some investigations in
the field.
It's a nice day for a wedding. I've never been in
Washington in the fall and I'm amazed at the beauty
of the city. This library, the Shakespearean
Library, is tucked in a corner right across the
street from the Capitol Building and just a couple of
blocks down from the Supreme Court. I've visited the
city on other occasions before joining the Bureau,
but I never knew this place existed. It reminds me
of the gardens on the rooftops in San Francisco, a
perfect little English rose garden in the middle of a
bustling city. Mom would love this place, and I'll
have to remember to bring her here when she and Dad
come out for a visit.
I see Mrs. Scully talking to a red haired man in a
tux. It must be one of her sons. Mrs. Scully is a
wonderful person, very caring and open. When I
stopped by the Mulder house, to bring the wedding
gift so they wouldn't have to carry it back after the
reception, she invited me in and offered me iced tea.
Even in the middle of all the activity she was very
generous. I was happy I remembered that floral
supply house so the boutonnieres would match the
bouquets. It was such a little thing, but she was so
appreciative. She made me feel like one of the
family.
I notice that several of the secretarial pool have
put in an appearance. Agent Scully-Mulder is very
well thought of at the Bureau. Kimberly, Assistant
Director Skinner's assistant, is always speaking
highly of both her and Agent Mulder. I see a few of
the women I've had the pleasure of taking out to
dinner: Amber, Heather, Trisha and Marlene. I nod
and wave in their direction. Amber always gives me
that look, the one that makes me want to check the
corner of my mouth for mustard or ketchup. I wonder
why she does that?
Agent Michels has arrived. I wave at her and she
must not see me because she turns away. Agent
Michels is a very pretty woman, but she just doesn't
seem interested in her appearance. Those Asian
features are so attractive. If only she would wear
her hair a little looser, like Agent Scully-Mulder.
And maybe try a different color for her pantsuits,
although I have heard that black is very slimming.
Heather is coming toward me with one of the wedding
programs in her hand.
"Cal, is this seat taken?" she asks.
"No, absolutely not. How have you been, Heather?"
"I was hoping to get a call from you. I have tickets
to the Kennedy Center next Friday. Washington
Philharmonic is performing at a benefit concert for
the World Wildlife Federation. Would you like to
go?"
"Sure! What time should I pick you up?"
xXx
Andrea's point of view:
Well, I'm here. I swore up and down I would find
some excuse to miss this event, but when push came to
shove, I figured it was important. Besides,
Assistant Director Walter Skinner is the best man and
I have been meaning to talk to him about my request
for transfer.
It's not that I don't like my current assignment. I
can see where working on cold cases would be
considered an important task, and one the Bureau
should take seriously. I'm more concerned with the
nature of the investigations. In the last few weeks,
I've been looking into the reports from other agents
on the activities of the X Files division.
Basically, it's a joke. Almost no one takes it
seriously, except for Skinner and apparently one or
two people in the front office. The biggest
supporters are members of Congress, people who owe
Agent Mulder favors for work he did when he was with
the Behavioral Science Unit. In other words, I'm
stuck in the Romper Room and I really want to find
the quickest way out.
But while I'm there, I have to keep up appearances.
Attending the wedding of the two senior agents is all
about appearances, though not theirs. I can't
imagine what wool was pulled over the eyes of the
front office that allows them to continue to work in
the same division, much less remain essentially
'partners'. It's a clear violation of the unwritten
policy regarding romance between partners and the
written policy on fraternization of agents in motel
rooms during cases. I'm quite sure they won't be
checking into separate rooms in the field. For that
matter, soon enough they'll need to bring a nanny and
order a crib!
As I enter the rose garden, I spot him. Oh god. Is
it too late to turn back? Cal Wolfe. What a perfect
name. He's just like a wolf, too. All thin and
gangly. Some women would swoon over that baby face
and those tanned muscles that ripple under those
white dress shirts. For that matter, one of the
support staff is already firmly attached to his side.
Wonder when he bedded her? No, I don't wonder. It's
absolutely none of my business whom he beds.
But I will make it perfectly clear that when we are
on a case, there will be no bedding! I might have to
rephrase that to make it come out right, but he'll
get the picture.
The little 'chat' Agent Scully-Mulder gave me about
Agent Wolfe was an eye-opener. At first, I was
appalled that she would advocate 'turning the other
cheek' to sexual harassment. After our conversation
I can understand the 'reasonable person's defense' in
these matters. I shouldn't be offended by casual
contact. However, I still find his constant jumping
up and down whenever I enter a room to be not only
disconcerting but a clear indication that he thinks
I'm there only in a social setting, not as a work
associate. And if that hand grazes my back one more
time, I'm slicing it off with a dull knife at my
earliest opportunity!
Good, his back is finally turned. I notice that his
little entourage has drawn straws and Heather is the
winner. How women can stoop so low, I will never
understand. But it's really none of my concern. She
can sit with anyone she likes. I notice she is
sitting with Agent Wolfe on the groom's side of the
seating, so I will find a place on the bride's side.
I've always found weddings to be rather boring.
Everyone dressed to the nines, all formal and after a
short while the flowers kick up my allergies. It
never fails that halfway through a wedding, I have a
stuffy nose and tears running down my face. Of
course everyone assumes it's because of the
emotionally moving ceremony. HA! Give me some
Claritin D and I'd be dry eyed and sniffle free.
Oops. I picked the wrong chair. I'm sitting right
behind the bride's family. I start to move but Mrs.
Scully, Agent Scully-Mulder's mother, stops me.
"No, Andrea, please stay. With my daughters-in-law
standing up with Dana, it's just me and little Matty
here. Come up here and sit with us!"
And that's how I end up front row center on this
circus.
The music is starting. I must say, for a child,
Matthew Scully is very well behaved. He shook my
hand (I checked it for peanut butter) and then
settled in next to his grandmother with a storybook.
He is a cute kid. Blond hair with just a hint of red
in it when the sun catches it the right way. I'm
sure his parents are very proud of him.
Mrs. Scully is beaming as she looks down the aisle.
Oh yes, the attendants. The dresses are very lovely,
Victorian tea length gowns. So much ivory lace and
pale blue underneath on one dress and pale green
under the other. Very sedate, yet very striking in
their own way. The bouquets are ivory colored rose
buds. So pretty, really, if one prefers that style.
I turn my head toward the altar and finally see Agent
Mulder. Oh my. He's in a black tux with cummerbund
and he looks incredible. Then I look closer and
notice he's not wearing a tie! The shirt is even
unbuttoned at the collar. What a rebel. But the
look on his face is what doesn't leave my gaze. He
looks . . . there's no other way to say it. He looks
like someone at the back of this very crowded rose
garden is the only other person here.
I turn around and stand for the bride. It takes a
while before I can see her because everyone else is
in my way. But as she nears the front, I see her
between the heads of the other people. Agent -- Dana
Scully looks radiant! I don't believe I've ever
noticed what a very pretty woman she is. Her hair is
shining like copper in the sunlight. Her dress is
very simple, a Victorian style gauze and linen but
with enough lace accents to be extremely flattering
to her coloring and her size. A very striking shell
comb with flowers attached holds back part of her
hair. She is smiling at Agent -- Fox and there is no
one here but the two of them.
By the look in their eyes, I can see what they mean
to each other. Maybe this wasn't just a quick jump
into bed because of working in close proximity.
Maybe this is the exception to the rule of
fraternization. Maybe they are meant to be together,
in every way, always.
The priest is very casual, in good humor. He
explains that this is a renewal of vows, but that
last time around Dana got cheated out of seeing Fox
in a tux and wasn't going to let that happen again.
He told us that Fox had a habit of disappearing for
long periods of time, but we could all rest assured
that wouldn't be happening today. Then the couple
turned to each other and said their vows.
See, it's just what I was saying! Those damned roses
everywhere have started my nose running and my eyes
tearing! Mrs. Scully totally misunderstands and
reaches around Matty to hand me a tissue and squeeze
my shoulder. As the groom vows his love in sickness
and in health, something catches in my throat and
when I try to clear it, I sound almost like I'm
sobbing. I end up using the tissue Mrs. Scully gave
me and three more from my purse.
When the bride and groom kiss, he puts one hand
tenderly over her stomach as he leans in to kiss her
just a little too long for polite company. But I can
say that it was the most romantic thing I'd ever
seen.
As we file out of the chairs to get in line and greet
the happy couple, a crew comes out and rearranges the
chairs around tables for the reception. Since I'm
with Mrs. Scully, I'm the first to see the Mulders.
"Andrea! I'm so happy you made it!" Agent Scully-
Mulder says as she leans in to give me a quick hug.
"Michels, thanks for coming," Agent Mulder says and
he leans down and hugs me as well.
"The ceremony was beautiful," I tell them. I think
it's the first time I've ever really meant those
words. "I mean that. It was beautiful."
Agent Mulder's smile grows brighter. "Well, I let
Scully handle everything," he says as he pulls his
bride to him. She takes the moment to hit him in the
arm, but smiles up at him at the same time.
"Mulder and I would like to have a picture with you
and Agent Wolfe, if you don't mind, Andrea."
I hesitate, but finally smile and nod. "Sure, why
not."
"Thanks," Dana says and turns to the next guests in
line, I think it might be Agent Mulder's aunt and
uncle.
xXx
Reception
My first impulse is to down one glass of champagne,
wander over to Assistant Director Skinner, ask if he
has any word on my transfer and after his answer,
beat a hasty retreat. Oh, what a simple plan.
It's not that this isn't a lovely wedding. It's just
that it's, well, a lovely wedding. I'm not a 'lovely
wedding' person. I'm not in the mood for the small
talk, the glowing smiles at the happy couple. I
can't stand it when people clink their glasses and
the groom scoops the bride into an X-rated kiss. OK,
maybe only R-rated, but more than I want to see of my
boss and my other boss.
But before I have chance, I run smack into him.
Wolfe. How I'm really beginning to hate that name.
He's standing there, all charm and suave and just a
touch of innocent. And all I want to do is find the
nearest exit. It has to be here somewhere! But
then, before I can move, he's taking my elbow and
escorting me . . . oh, no! Not the dance floor!
"Agent Wolfe, I don't dance," I tell him firmly.
"Ah, c'mon, Agent Michels. Everyone dances at a
wedding. Look, even the Assistant Director is
cuttin' a rug!"
I look over and see that AD Skinner is weaving his
way around the small dance floor with Mrs. Scully.
They are both laughing. Bet she doesn't even notice
when he steps on her toe.
"Just one. I promise, I took dance classes," Wolfe
is telling me. Oh, I'm absolutely sure of that. If
it's possible to be 'too cultured', that would be
Agent Wolfe!
"Listen, isn't that Stairway to Heaven?" he asks and
he's got my hand and I can't exactly pull away,
everyone is watching. I see the Mulders sway past
us, Agent Mulder gives us the 'thumbs up' and Agent
Scully-Mulder gives me an encouraging nod and a
smile. Oh, this is not going to work, not at all.
But how do I get out of it? It suddenly hits me that
Stairway to Heaven is a very long song. And I'm
stuck in the middle of the dance floor with Agent Cal
'Fred Astaire' Wolfe.
Note to self, _always_ find all the exits when
attending a garden wedding.
His hands, I note, are in the proper 'hips and
shoulders' positions. I would gladly spike his
Achilles tendon with my high heels if he tried any
lower on my hip. I think he senses this because
there's a thin film of sweat appearing on his upper
lip.
"Warm day," he comments as he twirls me right around.
In my concerted effort to avoid staring at him, I
watch over his shoulder. The clerical staff, his
groupies, are clustered just off the dance floor.
They're glaring at us. Oh great. Now we'll get to be
water cooler fodder. I'm pretty sure they're drawing
straws to see who will wait for me in the ladies room
and spill pig blood on my suit.
The song ends and he's still holding my hand as we
walk toward the tables. I try to pull away, but I
hear Agent Mulder clinking a glass and trying to get
everyone's attention.
"Everyone, if I could have your attention, please!
This won't take long, I promise."
"Must not be one of your justifications for a lost
cell phone," I hear AD Skinner shout from the back of
the tables. Agent Mulder grins widely at that.
"No, sir. More like my annual budget summary."
"Ah, total fiction," Skinner replies and the crowd
breaks into laughter.
"Not really, sir," Agent Mulder fires back. He takes
his wife's hand and smiles down at her. "I, well,
we, just wanted to thank everyone for coming today
and helping us celebrate our marriage."
"At least you had the decency of letting us sleep in
this time," I hear an older gentleman say loudly.
"That was Scully's idea, Uncle Jacob. She set the
time for this wedding," Agent Mulder replies.
"Knew I liked that girl!" the older man's wife calls
out and again the assembled crowd breaks into
laughter.
"OK, OK, let's settle down so I can get this all
out," Mulder says good-heartedly. "Thank you all for
coming. I'd like to thank Scully's, er, Dana's
brother Bill for walking her down the aisle.
Actually, I'd like to thank him for not kidnapping
her to a deserted island in the South Pacific until
she came to her senses," he adds with a chuckle.
"Mom threatened me," Bill replies with a shrug.
"But also, we have an announcement and figured it
would be easier to make it here, with everyone we
love around us." Mulder leans over and brushes the
hair off his wife's face where a breeze has mussed
it. There is so much love in his expression, it
almost hurts to see it.
"January 1, 2000, Dana Scully consented to spend the
rest of her life with me as my wife. We've just
about put those wedding vows to the test this year.
We've had sickness, health, and some rough spots that
we'd both rather leave behind us. But during those
10 months, a miracle happened. Our love grew, yes.
It grew bigger than the two of us." He looks out
over the crowd and puts his arm around Agent Scully-
Mulder's shoulders, drawing her to him. "We're going
to have a baby."
The crowd immediately starts applauding. Some of the
women come up and hug Agent Scully-Mulder. Many of
the men shake Agent Mulder's hand. And when I look
down, I realize that I've been holding Agent Wolfe's
hand through the whole announcement.
I really do think it's time to leave.
As I'm headed for the exit -- its been hiding behind
some rose bushes all this time -- I feel a tug on my
arm.
"Agent Michels, Dana's been looking for you. They're
ready to take some pictures."
I turn and see Mrs. Scully's smiling face.
"I really should be going," I try for an escape, but
it's obvious it's not going to work with this woman.
"Oh, I understand completely, but it's just one
picture. Please? Dana and Fox really do want to get
a group picture of the new division. And what better
time, right, when you're all just getting to know
each other?"
Well, there is not a lot I can say to that, so I just
nod and follow her over to a corner of the garden.
There is a rose trellis, the smell is almost
overpowering, and I feel my sinuses closing up again.
I bite the inside of my cheek, square my shoulders
and join the other three.
"Michels, it's not a firing squad," Agent Mulder
teases. He gets a well-placed glare from his wife
for his comments. I try to appear to be having a
good time. It's probably not working.
"Thank you so much for coming, Andrea," Agent Scully-
Mulder says again as the photographer man handles us
all into some semblance of a line. First it is women
on the left, men on the right, but he doesn't like
that so he moves Agent Wolfe, me next, then Agent
Scully-Mulder and finally Agent Mulder. That seems
to satisfy him and he gets back behind the camera.
"OK, people, hold still, please. Let's have a big
smile. On the count of three . . ."
And that damned hand is on my back again! I move
slightly, to relieve the contact, but much to my
dismay, the photographer catches me.
"Now, now, none of that. No moving, please. I can't
capture a blur," he says with a strained smile.
I scoot back and bite both my top and bottom lips
between my teeth to keep from screaming.
"Now, one more time. Everybody say 'Cheese'!"
I don't know why photographers always do that, but
it's become so ingrained that I say 'cheese' along
with everyone else. But it will be easy to find me
in the picture. I'll be the one blushing more than
the bride.
Now, I'm definitely leaving.
"Thank you for inviting me, Agents. It really was a
lovely afternoon," I try to sound sincere. My mother
would kill me if I didn't attempt for some civility.
"See you Tuesday, Michels. Enjoy the extra day off.
When we get back, we'll be looking at cases, real
cases, out in the field. Something you can really
sink your teeth into," Agent Mulder promises.
"I'll be looking forward to it, Agent Mulder."
Mother would be so proud of me!
"Can I walk you to your car?"
I spin around and see Agent Wolfe smiling at me.
"There's no need," I assure him.
"Well, do you mind if we walk out together? I'm
about to leave, too."
I close my eyes and try counting to ten. I only get
to five but I open them anyway. "All right," I tell
him. This civility stuff is very taxing after a
while.
He says his goodbyes, gets a hug from Mrs. Scully and
finally we're walking out of the garden. I can't
help but let out a relieved sigh.
"Tough day," he comments.
I glare at him, that had to be a shot.
"I mean, so much excitement. It's been the talk of
the office for weeks, I'd imagine. All that planning
and it's all over in an afternoon."
"I didn't have to plan for anything," I tell him.
"No, I mean, it's been a lot of commotion in the
office, that's all."
"Well, it's all over and now maybe we can get back to
normal," I tell him. Normal. Whatever that is.
We arrive at my car. I click the lock from my keys
and I'm about to reach for the handle, but he beats
me to it. I fight to control the urge to yank the
car door from his hands and give him a tight smile.
"I guess I'll see you on Tuesday," I tell him.
"Bright and early," he says with a big smile.
I do plan on being there bright and early. I'll be
the one parked outside the Human Resources
Department, searching the positions open on the jobs
bulletin board.
I have to escape, somehow!
END PART THREE OF FOUR
4/4
xXx
Scully's point of view:
It has been a beautiful wedding and reception. Just
what I wanted. Now it is time to say the goodbyes.
I am standing next to Mulder when he shakes hands
with Bill. "Thank you," my husband says with
feeling, and I know that isn't just for him giving me
away. My elder brother has been on his best behavior
today towards 'the usurper'.
Bill is also aware of the message in Mulder's words.
"Consider it a wedding present," he replies, with
some gruffness in his voice.
Then Mulder steps back to give us two siblings a few
minutes together. Big brother hugs me and his eyes
are getting a little wet.
"Okay, so you've married him twice now. Not much I
can do about it. But if he ever runs off on you again
. . . ."
"You'll have to stand in line to kick his ass," I
promise solemnly. "I love you, Big Brother."
"I love you too, Squirt."
The Gunmen envelop me in a group hug. Skinner tells
us he's glad today went well, and wishes us all the
best. "No one else deserves it more."
"That was beautiful," Aunt Deborah says.
"Our first wedding was just as beautiful, even
without all the trimmings," I tell her and Uncle
Jacob. He beams with pride.
"That was worth waiting for," is Mom's summing up of
today. She hasn't stopped glowing with happiness and
pride.
Mulder and I have rented a beach house at Ocean City
in Maryland for the long weekend. A two hour drive.
It's a very pretty beach condo community, with many
of the condos right on the beachfront. This is the
off-season at the moment, which gave us a nice
discount. Not that money is a problem, but the bonus
is that there aren't many other people around. We can
have the beach to ourselves.
When we were setting our bags out to put in the car
earlier today, I saw that Mulder had the novel of
'Tarzan' in the side pocket of his carry on bag.
"Wanting some tips, wild man?"
"Just some reading material for any quiet moments,"
he replied with dignity.
So all is set for us to leave straight from the
reception. Our luggage is here, and we change clothes
after the goodbyes. Mom is taking my dress home,
along with the gifts. Good thing she has Bill and
Charlie to help carry home the loot, because with
Mulder's fortieth birthday coming up, Mom and I also
took the opportunity to treat this as his party too
while everyone was gathered together. So once we'd
had the wedding dances and speeches, we did some
birthday speeches and he got plenty of presents and
good-natured ribbing. I love the look on his face
when we brought out a cake for him.
We'll have a more private celebration on the day
itself. "Friday the 13th . . . ." Mulder pointed out
wryly to me in private. "And forty . . . . Wow!
Though with a sexy young wife and a baby on the way,
I don't think I'll be having a mid life crisis. I'm
too busy being happy. You could say that life began
for me at thirty-nine."
"Good, because you'll be a very sexy and young
forty!" It's true. Despite what life has given him,
Mulder looks and acts a lot younger than others his
age. And hell - it's just a number!
It is after six before we leave the reception. We had
food there, but not a full sit-down dinner, so will
get something on the way. We might have to stop a
few times, because for the last few hours I've really
been craving grapes. I think I personally devoured
every last one at the reception, though Mom did
manage to save me a paper bag full for the trip. She
has also given us a picnic basket of food, complete
with Sparkling Apple Cider instead of champagne,
which we will probably save for our twenty-four hour
anniversary. Then again, I'll probably get through
all the food in it before we reach to the condo!
About ten minutes into our trip, Mulder comments from
behind the wheel, "Phones would be running hot at the
moment."
"Huh?"
"Everyone from the Bureau who was at the reception
are probably contacting the others who weren't there
and telling them about how it went and, more
importantly, our announcement. By the time we go back
on Tuesday, everyone from the upper echelons to the
cleaning staff will know that you're with child."
He's right. "Considering the stir when they found out
we were already married, this should be huge!" I tell
him.
"By the way, when us guys were getting ready, Bill
thought I'd lost my bow tie," Mulder says.
"And what did you tell him? That your open neckline
was my suggestion, so that it was one less thing to
get out of my way if I wanted to sneak off with you
into the rose bushes or a closet? Easy access and
all that?" I joke. "Not to mention that I find it is
a great look on you."
"I didn't want to push my luck. And I did want to
make it to my wedding night! I just said that it was
to differentiate me from the other handsome men
clustered at the altar."
I laugh. The tieless look really suits him. And just
sums up his rebel nature.
"And remember what I said about Cal and Andrea?" he
asks me. "They sure looked good together out on the
dance floor."
I smile at my husband - trust him to be the romantic.
"Well, they did!" he says defensively.
"There's more to relationships than dancing," I point
out. Then I start musing about our relationship.
Seven years together before we took the step, and
even then, it was a surprise to me when Mulder
proposed. I mean, I knew I loved the man truly madly
and deeply, that he was my soulmate, but . . . .
Well, I was scared.
Nothing like being bundled to the altar to bring
things to a head and force a decision.
"We'll see about Cal and Andrea. Now you have two
wedding anniversaries to remember," I point out.
"New Year's Day and Columbus Day weekend - fairly
easy. And back to full time on Tuesday, at last, if
you don't make me a drained husk in the meantime."
"Don't dress up as a grape and you should be safe.
Some of the time anyway." I grin and resume eating.
At one point on the journey I get very philosophical
about our relationship and personalities. "Despite
our differences, or perhaps because of them, we go
together really well - forming a perfect whole. For
example: skeptic and believer, short and tall, logic
and instinct, male and female . . . ."
"Those halves all do fit together beautifully,"
Mulder replies with a certain look on his face.
"Yes, and I know which halves you're looking forward
to fitting together tonight!"
"So are you, Sweetheart," he counters with the serene
confidence, i.e. smugness, of a man who knows he's
going to score.
We stop for dinner and a few snack and bathroom
breaks and to get a few final supplies near the end
of our journey. It is dark when we get to the condo.
It is a beachfront one, and tomorrow at sunrise we're
going to be out there on the beach with some flowers
tied with a ribbon, all from my bouquet. We'll toss
it into the sea as it goes out, for my father.
Then during the coming week we will put more of those
flowers on Melissa's grave and, when we can, go to
the graves of Mulder's parents and sister.
I can smell the beach and look forward to the
romantic walks planned - starting tomorrow.
I unlock the condo's front door and hold it while
Mulder takes the luggage in. Then when he carries the
last in, I am about to follow, but before I can he
quickly puts down the bags then darts out and scoops
me up. Somehow managing to keep the door open, he
swings us around and proceeds to carry me over the
threshold. I laugh and let him.
After a nice long kiss he reluctantly and carefully
lets me go, because he knows I want to change into
something 'more comfortable and special' for our
festivities tonight. So I give him a gift-wrapped
package and tell him to put any of the picnic food
and our groceries into the fridge, then to open my
gift and meet me in the bedroom within fifteen
minutes. I grab one of my bags and disappear into the
bathroom.
When I come out, he's lying on the bed by lamplight,
wearing the contents of the parcel - white silk boxer
shorts. His hair is sexily and adorably mussed.
Heaven.
And I am wearing white silk too. A lovely little
nightgown with beautiful lace details (not that my
husband would be noticing them at the moment) and
ribbon-work, including the straps.
His gaze nearly engulfs me. "Is this my birthday
present? Then I got exactly what I wished for!"
I join him on the bed, and he sets about undoing the
ribbons on his gift.
xXx
The man knows how to unwrap a present!
Afterwards, we are in each other's arms when I
finally get enough breath and energy back to tell my
husband some news. "When I was getting changed, I
noticed in the mirror that the baby is 'out' more.
Have a look."
He checks out the change to my lower torso with
fascination, but can't help commenting in a teasing
tone, "Out more? Is that a scientific or medical
term?"
Before I can give him a look or take action, he says,
"Yeah, definitely more noticeable now. Before we had
to look really carefully. I guess this is her or his
wedding present to us." He plants a few kisses down
there.
"And next week is my next doctor's appointment. This
time it's the sonogram, so you'll get to see the baby
live instead of as a photo."
"Maybe we'll get a wave!"
I let loose a little gasp.
"What's wrong?" Mulder asks, instantly worried.
"No - I think . . . I think I just felt the baby move
for the first time." I stare at him in amazement.
"Mom said that it feels like butterfly wings flitting
across glass. It's hard to describe, but I think
that's it!" We beam at each other.
Mulder hugs me. "I love you," I whisper into his
shoulder.
"I seem to be pretty damn fond of you too," he
replies with a chuckle.
I lift my head enough to trot out The Look.
"I love, adore and worship you," he amends with a
grin.
"That's better."
Mulder covers us with the blankets. He turns off the
lamp, and we settle into each other's arms in the
moonlight, tired but very happy.
"I'm glad that's over," Mulder admits sleepily. "The
planning and setting up, I mean," he adds hastily
when he hears how it comes out.
"I understand completely." But then I smile wickedly.
"So this isn't a good time to tell you that the next
project looming is decorating the nursery?"
His eyes pop open. He raises his head and gives me a
look, while grabbing hold of his pillow with one
hand.
"I'm carrying your progeny," I quickly point out,
claiming my exemption from pillow fights.
"The minute that 'get out of jail free' excuse
expires, look out."
"You mean that as soon as I've popped the kid out in
the delivery room, you're going to clout me with a
pillow? That's going to be seen by the med staff as a
very interesting reaction and form of gratitude!"
His eyes sparkle at me. "You are a wicked, wicked
woman."
"And I'm all yours."
He runs a hand over some of his territory, before
contentedly closing his eyes again and snuggling
close. There will be time for more fun in the
morning.
END PART FOUR OF FOUR