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Title: When All Through The House... Summary: Mulder surprises Scully with his Christmas presents and they get past a dry spell in their relationship. Christopher celebrates his first Christmas like all babies celebrate their first Christmas: oblivious. December 22, 2001 I have yet to figure out the logic of flirting with a man who has a baby along with him. Obviously this small child has a mother somewhere, and she has a close enough relationship with me to let me take him out to the mall to do some Christmas shopping. Yet it happens. It is happening right now. What is even more absurd about the whole situation is that I am shopping for an engagement ring. I have my son in tow, and the salesclerk still just asked if I had plans for Christmas Eve. What am I to say? Well, it is my son's first Christmas, and I am about to pledge my undying love to his mother, but maybe you and I can catch a quick movie? Christopher is cooing and getting all moon-faced over the blond salesclerk who is tickling him and watching me. Maybe I can use my charm to convince her to baby sit. "I'd like to see that one," I say to her, pointing at the setting I prefer. "That one is nice. It must be a drag having to baby sit and do your Christmas shopping." "It's not called baby sitting when they are yours. It's called parenting," I say. "He's yours? I should have guessed. He has the most beautiful eyes. Just like you do," she says and continues playing with Chris. Christopher is sitting in his car seat-baby carrier on the counter and is happy as a clam to have this woman's attention. He throws something on the floor and she picks it up. I offer her a weak smile and point again at the ring I want to see. It is exactly what I'm looking for. One large princess cut diamond with two smaller diamonds of the same cut on either side, all set in platinum. I want it to have three diamonds, one to represent each of us. I want her to have this representation of what she means to me. The salesclerk is now discussing diamond guarantees and sizing policies, and I look at the paperwork that goes with each stone. If I remember correctly, the 4Cs according to DeBeers are carat, cut, clarity and color. These stones are virtually flawless. Christopher is getting restless with this diamond shopping, and I know I have to get him home soon. He has thrown every toy and teething ring out of his carrier and I've played 'see if daddy will pick it up' long enough, especially since our salesclerk grew tired of that game fast. "I'll take it," I say, getting out my credit card. "Your mommy is a *very* lucky woman," she says to Christopher and winks at me. I just hope his mommy feels the same way and says yes. For a year now she has avoided it every time I brought it up. I think it is time to at least go this far. She finishes up the transaction, and sends the ring to the back to get polished. I sign a sales slip for an amount that would feed some third world country for a year. Ah, true love. Ain't it grand. "Thank you," I say. "Merry Christmas, Fox," she answers back. At least she checked the signature. I carry Christopher to the door and notice that it has begun to sleet since we went into the store. "We have one more stop yet, pumpkin. I have to see if the furniture was delivered." I cover him with all the blankets I have tucked into his diaper bag and dash out towards the car. December 24, 2001 My mother and Mulder are conspiring together on something. There is no better word for it. Over the last few days, every time I catch them talking to each other, they fall silent and just smile at me. There can be no rational excuse for what they are doing. It is definitely a conspiracy. Today, I catch them talking in my mother's kitchen and they change the subject as soon as I come through the door. I take Christopher from Mulder so I can feed him and on my way out of the room I see Mulder lean over and whisper something in my mother's ear. I hope I won't be embarrassed by whatever it is they have planned. I also hope what they planned is for someone to come and clean my apartment once a week. I sit down to nurse Christopher. I hope Mulder didn't get me much for Christmas. He usually doesn't, but this year is different from the past nine years. This year we are together. I have focused the majority of my attention this year on making Christopher's first Christmas perfect. Of course he cannot appreciate fully what is going on around him. I am not sure of what he notices. Blinking lights and a big tree mysteriously appeared in his living room, that's all he knows. I am glad my mother is with us for this occasion. For the last several years, she would go to see Bill for the holidays. This year she chose to spend it with her newest grandson. My brother Bill has not said much about the whole situation. The few times I have spoken to him were not easy going. He has even suggested that I raise Christopher on my own and he tells me I am capable of getting by without Mulder. I argue with him and tell him to accept the situation the way it is. I tell him he can't blame Mulder for every thing that has ever happened to me. He then always tells me this one is obviously Mulder's doing and I shouldn't defend him. Then the conversation is over. Christopher finishes his dinner and starts to play with my hair. I put him down and my mother comes into the living room just as I'm buttoning my cardigan back up. I look out the window and notice that snow is lightly falling. Hopefully, it will be a beautiful day tomorrow. "Dana, I'm going to watch Christopher for a few hours while you and Fox go out together," my mother tells me, picking up my son "Go where? Everything is closing," I say, noticing Mulder leaning against the doorframe with a coy smile on his face. "Does it matter where you go? Just get away for a while and be alone together," she says to me. I look at both of them suspiciously. Something is up and I want to know before I head off into the snow with Mulder. "Get going, you two!" I kiss Christopher and tell him to be good. He smiles and coos at me. He's always good for his grandmother. "Ok. Let's go," I say to Mulder as he leads me out the door. December 24, 2001 I am actually nervous. What if she hates the house? What if she hates the ring? What if she throws the ring at me and tells me to shove the house where the sun don't shine? I will have one of the nicest bachelor pads in the history of bachelor pads. I suppose she could tell me that she keeps me around just for Christopher's sake. I doubt that one. If she didn't want a man in her life, there wouldn't be a man in her life. "Where are we going?" she asks me. "You just have to be a little patient, Scully," I say, hoping my nervousness doesn't crack through my voice. We pull into what will be our new neighborhood and she starts looking around. "Nice part of town. Who do you know here?" she asks, searching for something that might be familiar to her. "You'll see. Just hold on a minute," I say, trying to remember the right combination of turns to get to the street. Left. Left. Right. Left. I pull into the driveway of the house I just bought two weeks ago. I decorated the front door with a large, red bow and tucked a card into it earlier today. "Mulder?" is all she says, her eyes imploring me to explain what's going on. "Let's go to the door," I say to her. We get out and walk up the paving stone walkway to the front door. I tell her to read the card tucked under the bow and she opens the card and a key falls out. I know, it's not the smartest thing to leave the key to your house on the front door, but I've put in the best security system that Frohike could recommend. Plus the guys have swept for bugs everyday for a week. Nothing yet. Maybe they are taking a Christmas holiday. She reads the card out loud. "Scully. Merry Christmas. Welcome Home. Love, Mulder." She just looks at me. She says nothing. She doesn't move. Doesn't even blink. "Oh, damn," she finally says, putting her hands up to her face. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you got me a house, too?" I say, trying to get her to smile. "No, I didn't. Mulder! Why didn't you tell me!" she says as she swats me with the card I gave her. "Because you would have said no. Come on, at least let me show you the inside before you kill me." I open the door and enter the codes into the various security panels. It is slightly overkill, but I'm hoping it offers Scully some peace of mind. She wanders around the downstairs of the house that is now hers. "This is nice, Mulder. Where did you get the money for the down payment?" "I sold my father's houses. There was no down payment. It is paid for." She looks at me with that apologetic look she gets. "You didn't have to do that. I knew why you were keeping them..." "It's okay. This is more important. Do you like it so far?" I ask, almost sounding like a child desperate for approval. "So far, yes. I still can't believe you did this," she says, shaking her head. "Come upstairs with me," I say, putting out my hand to her. "And my mother knew all about this?" she asks, sounding surprised her mother kept such secrets from her. "Well, this and other things," I say, knowing there are more surprises in store for her. "You'll see." I follow her up the stairs and she starts to look in the bedrooms. "Why four bedrooms? There's only three of us?" she asks, suspiciously, as if I have plans I have not shared with her. "Well, I figured one could function as a study. And the other one...well, you never know." She finally arrives at what will be Christopher's room. I bought and set up a crib in there already, along with matching furniture. "It's beautiful!" she exclaims. "You get to pick out the decor. I thought you would like this, though. It looks like your taste." His new crib is a washed pine with slate blue accents. "Now come see our bedroom," I say, guiding her to the right room. She walks in and looks surprised to find a bed in there already. "Where did this come from?" "My apartment." I say, a smirk flickering across my face. "You had a king sized bed in that apartment? Where?" Scully asks with astonishment. "Some place you never asked to go. I thought we would just use the rest of your furniture in here and put your smaller bed up as a guest bed in one of the other rooms," I say, walking over to the windows and closing the night out behind the blinds. "That will be fine," she says to me, still slightly dazed by the whole thing. "And here is the master bathroom," I tell her, leading her through yet another door. Her eyebrow goes up. It has a roman tub and a separate shower. I placed little candles all around the tub, along with several bath gels. I know she isn't crazy about any thing with perfume since her pregnancy, but I was hoping she would like these. "You know, in case you wanted to take a bath..." "Yeah. Are you trying to seduce me, Agent Mulder?" she says in a sultry, come hither voice. She walks out of the bathroom, and I follow her. "No, not at all. But if none of this has done the trick, how about this?" I pull the little velvet box out of my pocket and her eyebrow goes up. "You don't have to say yes or no right now, but I would like to at least ask. Ask again, that is. Will you think about someday marrying me? Maybe?" I ask, trying not to sound too sheepish and desperate, but failing. "I'll think about it," she says with a little laugh. "That's good enough," I say to her, as I open the box and put the ring on her finger. It fits. How did I get so lucky. She looks at it, and I can tell she likes it. I know it sounds like a cliché, but her eyes are sparkling like those diamonds. She is holding her hand up in front of her, just staring at it. "Jesus, Mulder, how much did you get for those houses?" she asks. "And pay to break my lease?" she asks, smiling. "Yes," I answer, "Unless you want to. I don't care." "And yours?" she asks. I'm not sure by the tone in her voice whether she wants me to give it up or not. "Not yet," I say, knowing that I'm not giving it up yet anyway. "Why not? I'm sure they would be happy to get rid of you. You have brought them nothing but grief," she says with a knowing smile. "Because I'm worried about the next person who would lease it. It is just better if I hold onto it for awhile," I say, letting go of her hand. "Okay." "Besides, if you are ever working back at headquarters, we will have a place to go for a quickie," I say, now pulling her to me. "But there's no bed there now. What are you suggesting we do?" she asks. "There's the couch," I say. "You aren't moving that couch here into the 'study'? I have always had fantasies about you on that couch..." I must admit my jaw drops. I've never heard any of Dana Scully's fantasies, let alone know that I might be in one of them. Or that "I'll move it here tomorrow. Is that soon enough?" I ask. "No, it's not ," she says with a laugh, as she pushes me backwards onto my bed. "Hey, Scully," I say, as she lies down next to me, "We're all alone. What should we do?" "Take a nap?" "Sounds good to me," I say to her, holding her tight. December 24, 2001 "I hope you like it, Scully," he whispers to me. I am in awe of him right now. He has given up so much for this child of ours. He has given up so much for me. I never would have imagined he could do it. Each of us has suffered so many loses in this relationship. Christopher is somehow making those losses bearable. We have trust. We have love. Both are intertwined within us and have become inseparable. We no longer have to throw around the word trust as a substitute for love. Our stormy night in that Louisiana motel was never what I had planned for us. It happened for no viable reason, but it is what has meshed our lives together forever now. No longer are we just partners separable by transfers and reassignments. If I could go back, would I change it? Would I do it differently? Would I give up Christopher? Never. What brings people together is as mysterious today as it has been through all time. All those years, all that time spent together, and when did he first know he loved me? I've never asked. I don't even know when I first realized that I felt something more for this person I called partner than just that partner bond. He has saved me so many times. He says I save him, too. We were forced together so many years ago. An unnatural paring of the skeptic and the believer of all that is fantastic. I was to be the end of him. I was to bring him down. I guess now I have, although unintentionally. They finally found a way to use me to bring him to his end. Christopher was their way. It took them so many years to do it and I don't even know how they succeeded. Who sat around and thought up this one? How did they even know we would cross that line from friends to lovers? They possess a control over me that pushed me over that line and sent me tumbling into what I had avoided for so long and it frightens me. They took a chance. They saw something that we had shut our eyes to for so long we were nearly blind and then someone else finally pried them open. It hasn't been easy admitting this love. It has torn me into pieces sometimes, this need I have for him. I should be stronger than this, I tell myself. Then I remind myself that there is no one else on Earth who could understand the sorrows and joys that encompass me. He has been there. "Mulder, what time did you tell my mom we would be back for Christopher?" I ask as he dozes. I look at my watch. We still have time. "Do you want me to draw your bath?" I ask him. "Do you know how many years I've waited to hear you say that?" he asks me, sitting up on the bed, no longer sounding sleepy. "Do you know how many years I've wanted to ask that?" I ask back, bantering along with him. "Would you like some champagne to go with your bath?" he asks. "I can't drink champagne and go home and feed Christopher." I say, folding my arms across my breasts. "Mulder?" I ask as he opens the bottle, "what if I would have said no about the house." "I guess I would be sitting in that bath by myself drinking straight out of the bottle." I turn the water on in the tub and start up the air jets. I light some of the candles with the matches he left on the vanity. He sets down the two champagne glasses on the edge of the tub and comes to me. "Only if I can do this," I tell him, as I take the top button of his jeans and undo the button fly with the flick of my wrist. "Where did you learn that?" he asks, amused by my 'talent.' "You don't want to know," I say, teasing him. "I'm sure I don't." We soak in our tub together, with Mulder making strange scented combinations with the bath gels he bought. We will be returning to my mother's house smelling of freesias and mangoes. We joke around, playing with all the bubbles and sipping cider. Then he pulls me to him. I straddle his lap and he pulls one of my nipples into his mouth. He immediately backs off. "Well, that was a surprise. Tastes kind of like a salty pina colada. No wonder Christopher likes it so much," He says, licking his lips. Then he goes back for another taste. It feels like electric leaping through my body. My breasts have become accustomed to being tugged on, but not like this. Not by this person. "'Twas the night before Christmas..." he says to me, pulling away from my breast. "When all through the house, not a creature was stirring," I add. "Not even a mouse..." he says, then he pulls my face to his and we kiss. So much for Clement Clarke Moore. I am grinding against his erect penis, but he dares not enter me. I believe he knows the consequences all to well now. He kisses me and our tongues are desperate creatures with their own existence, wanting to probe further, taste more of each other. "Scully, do you want to get out and go to the bed? I brought protection. I didn't want you to worry..." he says, lifting my wet body off of his. He dries me off with the only towel in the bathroom. Slowly, he teases me. I can feel his tongue on the small of my back and I can't remember why I didn't want to do this for so many months. He stands up and dries himself off just slightly, too anxious for things to come. I am carried to the bed, damp and naked ,wrapped around him. He puts me gently down on the bed and begins to explore me. His tongue travels down my body and I quiver when he reaches my now much softer belly. He stops at my c-section scar and traces it with his finger. I know what he is thinking. This is what brought He dips his head in between my thighs and I let out a moan. We are in our own house now. There are no thin walls and nosy neighbors. Maybe someday I will even scream and tell him to fuck me. On second thought, I better make it tonight. We aren't going to be alone after this. Christopher will be here soon. I grab his hair and gently pull him towards me, so his face is to mine. He smells of flowers, tropical fruit and me. "Mulder, fuck me. I want you to fuck me. Make me scream" I say to him. He just stops all movement and looks at me. "I was trying to, Scully," he says, laughing. "Try harder," I say, sounding gruff. "Boy, give a girl a ring and she uses it to lead you around by the nose." We both laugh. "I was experimenting," I tell him. "I like experimenting," he says, as his finger traces a line down my body. "Tell me what else you like," I say, as his finger reaches just the right spot. "I like to watch you in the morning with the baby. I like to watch you get dressed. I like to hear you breathe so softly in your sleep. And I like it when you get on top. Of course, I wouldn't mind doing you from behind, but I don't know if you'd go for that," he says, his finger still having its way with me. "Why not?" I ask. "I figured you liked to watch," he says, with more fingers joining the first. "I like to watch you come. I like to watch you bite your bottom lip. I like to watch your face scrunch up," I say, teasing him. "My face doesn't scrunch up," he says, his voice getting slightly louder in protest. "Yes it does. Here, I'll prove it." I pull him closer to me and he reminds me that we need protection this time. He fumbles under the bed and comes back with a little "You want me to do that?" I ask. "I thought you'd never ask. Just don't..." *Snap* "Snap it," he says, as he cringes. "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? Years." I say with a sense of accomplishment in my voice. "You can be such a bitch," he says, playing with me. "How do you want it, Scully? What would be the most comfortable for you?" he asks, a tenderness entering his voice. He complies and I straddle him again, this time letting him enter. I gasp. It has been awhile and I am drier that I thought. The "I don't want to hurt you," he whispers to me. "Let me go at my own pace. It will be ok." I slowly lower myself on him, adjusting to the sensations. I raise and lower myself, and he takes my breast into his mouth again. His hands are around my waist, slowly guiding my movements, but not pressuring me. It feels good, and he reaches down and places his hand where it rubs my clit. I can't take it much longer. "Do you want me from behind," I whisper into his ear. "Now is your chance. I'm offering." I want him to know that I trust him with my body again. He holds on to the base of the condom and lifts me up off his lap and I get on my elbows and knees. He enters me slowly, pushing against the pressure of me. I reach my hand between my legs and touch myself. He is in so deep, I can feel it all the way through "Scuh-lee...tell me when...oh god please..." "Just... hold on...I'm ..." I try to say and then the waves take over my body. Release is so welcome. He thrusts into me one more time and I hear his breathing change. I push as far back on him as I can, draining everything from him. We stay like this for what seems like forever. He carefully pulls out of me and I miss him already. We cuddle together, enjoying ourselves. It didn't last long, but longer than I expected. "The bed is soaked, Mulder." I say, feeling the sheet beneath me. "Well, it wasn't me. I came gift wrapped, which by the way, I need to dispose of," he says, getting out of the bed and going into the I forgot what sex can do to a breast feeding mother. No wonder they say keep on a T-shirt. "Too bad I didn't get to see your face," I say when he gets back. "Now I can't prove if I'm right about the scrunched thing." "We could always try again," he says, with a grin. "I think we have a son to go pick up," I say, looking at my watch. "Soon we will live here. He will have his own room. I think we will get the opportunity to do this again," I say, kissing him. "Just quit with the snapping thing," he orders. "I will. I promise," I say, not sounding entirely sincere. We both get dressed and leave this world of just the two of us. December 25, 2001 "Merry Christmas, Christopher!" Scully says to our son, dancing around the living room with him in her arms. She has The Chipmunk Christmas album playing on the stereo and Christopher is delighted. Since we didn't get in until late last night, he slept a little later this morning. Good thing, too. His parents needed to recover. She is so happy with this child. That smile she lost over the years with me is back now. I took it from her and, in a way, I gave it back. Actually, she found her way back to it. I can take no credit for Scully's happiness. "Should we let Daddy open a present?" she asks Chris. He gurgles and lets out a string of vowels. "Which one?" she asks, leaning down beneath the tree while still holding him. "Eiiieeee ooooieee!" he tells her in a language only she understands. "Ok. That's a good one," she says, digging out a package wrapped in gold foil. "This is from me," she says, handing me a small box. I tear off the paper and discover she bought me a watch. It is silver and black and looks like the ones I already have, but this one is from Scully. I think it is the first real gift she has bought for me. "I know it's not a house or anything," she starts to say, sounding embarrassed. "I don't care. I love it," I say to her, not wanting anything more than what I've already got. Christopher tears open the packages he has and tries to cram the wrapping paper in his mouth. He has no interest in the actual toys, but is utterly fascinated by the packaging they were housed in. He is beautiful. For the first time in months, I have a twinge of fear crossing my soul. Something wicked this way comes, I think. I can't lose him. I will do anything. Go anywhere. Just as long as he is safe. "Mulder, are you ok?" Scully asks me, looking too concerned. "I'm fine," I say, looking down at my new watch on my wrist. It really is only a matter of time. This cannot last. The End
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