Title: Stay With Me Always
Author: Scully's Baby Blues
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are the property of 1013 Productions and Chris Carter. I do not own them and intend no infringement.
Spoilers: Requiem, I guess. Classification: MSR - yummy

Summary: Mulder and Scully escape.

A very special thank you to my beta reader Cal, for invaluable help with this story. It is the longest one I've attempted so far, and her suggestions, guidance, and corrections were fantastic. Beta reading is a very difficult thing to do and I give her many thanks for many, many hours of hard work. It is appreciated.

Also, I'd like to send a shout out to Sykochik and Nolife for reading one of many draft versions and lending their ideas and suggestions.

Keep in mind that I am completely spoiler free for Season 8, if you do choose to write to me...which I hope you do. I really like this story, and I hope you will enjoy it as well!

Now welcome, night, thou night so long expected That long day's labour dost at last defray And all my cares, which cruel love collected Hast summed in one, and cancelled for aye Spread thy broad wing over my love and me That no man may us see And in thy sable mantle us enwrap From fear of peril and foul horror free Let no false treason seek us to entrap Nor any dread disquiet once annoy The safety of our joy Edmund Spencer 1552?-1599

Life can be funny sometimes. One minute, you're falling through the soaked wood floor of a total stranger's apartment, the next, you're lying half-asleep trying to make sense out of the fact that your partner of 7 years is kneeling at your bedside telling you she loves you. Soon after that, the two of you are laughing over popcorn and wishes, and too soon after that, you're trying desperately to cling to the memory of her eyes as you're pulled helplessly into a blinding white light.

Yes, life can be funny, but it's never seemed as much so as now. I'm amazed to find myself sitting in a small motel room in the middle of nowhere, watching my raven-haired baby girl latch greedily onto her mother's breast. Yes, life can be funny, and strange, and sometimes cruel, but once in a while, it's breathtakingly beautiful.

It all happened so fast. An ominous goodbye that found me clutching Scully's cross in one hand and pulling her body close to mine with the other. As we kissed, I felt her fear. Something bad was happening in Oregon, something we as a team decided it was best that I faced alone. After all, she was an abductee, and if I were to lose her again, I wouldn't be able to take it. We both knew it. We were too much a part of each other now, so we agreed that she'd stay behind.

Little did we know the fate we were leaving her to face on her own, having to bear the burden of my disappearance without being able to give in to drunken nights or fits of temper. No, she would have to deal with the paralyzing fear and loneliness of our separation completely sober, completely sane, for inside her our child was growing. Keeping that child safe and healthy was of paramount importance.

I don't know how Scully survived that month, but thanks to some higher power, I was gone for only a blessedly short time. I was back at her doorstep before her pregnancy was even showing. Within 24 hours, we made our decision -- pack what little mattered to us and disappear. Now we are a family, moving from the far reaches of the continent and back, but not torn apart. For the first time in my life, I feel I belong.

Scully's soothing humming is having the same effect on me that it's having on our baby. Eyes drifting shut, I move from the chair to the bed and sprawl out next to Scully, burrowing my face into the warmth of her body. I smile as I feel her slide one hand through my hair, gently caressing me, telling me without words that she loves me. Scully loves me. It's still hard to believe.

After a few minutes of listening to the soft sound of Brenna suckling at a plump nipple, I feel Scully leave the bed. I turn my head and let my eyes follow her, watching as she walks a little with the baby against her shoulder, stroking her back, waiting for the tell-tale burp. When it comes, Scully moves to the little carrier on the table and places our bundle of joy in it.

Seeing Scully smiling beatifically at the baby, I am overwhelmed with pride. That little angel with the mass of black hair and ocean blue eyes is mine...mine and Scully's. A life so obviously meant to be, because despite the consortium's cruel tests, which had supposedly left Scully barren, Brenna had arrived. Our little miracle! We're still not quite sure how she happened, but we figure a few eggs must have survived the harvesting process. As soon as we got off our asses, got over our insecurities and began showing our love to each other in the way nature intended, we were blessed with this baby.

Of course, another thought remains ever present in the backs of our minds--that Spender had something to do with Scully's sudden ability to bear a child. Perhaps what he'd told her on their dangerous trip together was true...that we do hold a special place in his heart. Or perhaps he just wanted a grandchild, for I do believe that he is my biological father. Also, this unexpected turn of his heart in our favor may be the only thing that explains why no one has come busting through our door in the middle of the night, led directly to us by the chip Scully still carries within her.

My greatest fear is that "they" will surprise us one night, that we may simply be sitting ducks, foolishly enjoying a false sense of security. But I'd rather think that if Spender had interfered in our lives, that it was to help us, not to harm us. Why else would he let us have a child, knowing it could be taken away at any moment? On the other hand, maybe he does want the child for some ominous purpose, and he's just biding his time. I feel in my heart, though, that somehow, someway, he freed Scully of the negative aspects of the chip, leaving its life-sustaining properties intact. God knows the consortium has the technology to do just that, only they were not counting on the last-ditch effort of a condemned man to regain some semblance of human decency. Dear old Dad.

Brenna is no doubt sleeping before Scully can even reach the bed again. I haven't taken my eyes off Scully since she got up, but now she's staring back at me as she climbs up and into my arms. We wordlessly wrap our bodies around each other. Her small warm hands slip under the waistband of my boxers to caress the soft skin of my lower back. Her head rests over my heart. I'm holding the woman I love and watching my daughter as she slumbers peacefully. I'm happy.

For a long time, I wasn't sure that I could feel happiness, that I'd even recognize it if I were lucky enough to find it. I was wrong. The point of its emergence in my life can be as clearly defined as day is from night, as fire is from water; its effect on me, life changing and miraculous.

It's still fairly early in the evening, the sky only beginning to show the faint hues of dusk. I observe the orange-pink glow streaming in around the generic cloth curtains that hang from the solitary window. I assume we are in bed for the night, our inner clocks thrown off, rearranged to fit the schedule of a 3- month old, but Scully suddenly pulls back to look at me.

"I'm going to do it tonight," she says. "I can't put it off anymore."

I wondered when this moment would come. She looks sad at the realization that she has to do it. I pull her close, trying to offer what comfort I can. To my surprise, I feel her body trembling. I can't believe how much this upsets her.

"Scully," I whisper and pull her close, trying to make her understand that I'm with her on this, that I sympathize with her loss.

Suddenly, she's in my arms again, her mouth reaching for mine. The warmth and urgency of her kiss sends my mind reeling as her kisses always do. She's moaning softly, breathing hard as her fingers curl against my flesh, stroking wherever she can reach.

"Mulder," she coos pleadingly.

I realize she's trying to ease the pain of what's to come by making love, and I'm more than happy to oblige. We undress quickly, our desire to make love not having been tempered at all by Brenna's arrival. Just the opposite, Scully and I are more in love now than we have ever been, and we both want to show that love, experience it physically, any chance that we can. Before I know it, we're lying together peaceful and sated, my body still thrumming softly inside hers. Scully is quiet; I know she's thinking about what she must do.

"It's alright, Scully," I whisper earnestly, expecting her to settle into my arms and fall to sleep, leaving the task for another day.

Instead, she gives me a quick kiss, then gently moves from under me, disengaging my body from hers. I watch her climb out of bed. She looks infinitely sad as she grabs her robe and heads for the bathroom.

"Scully?" I call after her and then attempt to follow her into the bathroom, but she has already shut the door and locked it.

"Please, Mulder. I'm sorry, but just let me do this and get it over with," she says through the door.

Not knowing what to say, I tell her it's okay and turn around. I head over to Brenna's makeshift crib to check that she's fine... that none of Scully's hair is wrapped around one of her tiny fingers, that no blanket obstructs her little breaths. I try to pretend that I'm not checking to see if she's still breathing, but I am. I guess all new parents do it. She's sleeping soundly, so I head back to the bed, pick up the remote, and start flipping through channels. I hear the water running in the bathroom, and I hope that Scully is alright.

About an hour and a few boring game shows later, the bathroom door opens. Scully walks out, her shoulders slumped, her eyes downcast, refusing to meet mine.

"It's done," she says with such pain and finality that it nearly breaks my heart, and suddenly I realize what's really happening here. She thinks that somehow this will affect how I see her, affect my love for her. Nothing could be further from the truth. I almost laugh at the absurdity of such an idea but quickly discern that laughter is not what Scully needs right now. She needs reassurance. She's over by the baby now, stroking her gently and probably checking her breathing for the hundredth time today. We both have GOT to stop doing that.

"Scully," I whisper to her. "Come here."

She walks toward me, her eyes still downcast, fingers fidgeting with the sash of her robe. She sits down on the bed, her face turned away from me.

"No...here," I say, holding out my arms to her.

"Mulder," she whispers painfully, like I should just stop this foolishness right now. Like nothing can be the same.

"Scully, look at me," I say with a note of anger now in my voice.

She turns her head toward me, and I reach for her face. I gently stroke her cheek, the pain in her eyes like a thousand knives in my heart. Can she really believe this would change things? I have to fix this. Reaching for the towel twisted on top of her head, I gently loosen it and pull it off. Her eyes begin to mist over as I take in the sight of her newly acquired raven locks.

Now my eyes are misting over as well because I can't believe how fucking beautiful she is. She's done a good job. Not one ounce of proof remains that she once had striking auburn hair. All I see are masses of wild midnight black, setting off her eyes, making them glow like two aquamarine jewels. I want her so much, but first I must make her understand that this change in her appearance means nothing.

"You're so beautiful," I say stroking her face tenderly, then running my fingers down her ivory throat and over the swell of her breasts. "So beautiful," I say again and reach for her.

She looks surprised, almost confused, as I pull her close and cover her mouth with mine. I kiss her hungrily. Wanting her to feel my need, I take her hand and run it over the erection now straining my boxers.

"Does this feel like I don't find you attractive anymore...hmm?" I question huskily before kissing her again.

She sighs into my mouth and I pull away slightly to again make my point.

"Do you think this," and I thrust my fingers through her black tresses to emphasize, "would make one bit of difference?"

Her face flushes and her eyes search mine for understanding. I relent. I'm not truly angry, I just wanted her to realize the foolishness of her thought.

"Come 'ere," I say again, and she buries her face in my shoulder. "I think it looks amazing, Scully," I assure her. "It makes your eyes glow. I loved your hair before...I always have...but I love it this way, too."

I know that I'm walking a fine line here. I have to choose my words carefully. "Do you understand?" I question as I again begin running my fingers through the silken mane that's causing all this uncertainty.

"Yes, Mulder," she whispers. "It's just so strange. I don't recognize myself."

"*I* recognize you," I breathe huskily as I begin slowly drawing the robe down and off her shoulders. I recognize every beautiful inch of you."

Mulder's mouth feels amazing. I've always adored it, but once I got to taste it, to feel it brushing over and against me, I was lost. Addicted. Nothing can compare to the worship of Mulder's mouth...except maybe the worship of his eyes.

In between kisses, he's looking at me as though I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and my body is responding hotly. He's whispering something about my beautiful ivory skin, but I can hardly concentrate as his succulent lips have just found one painfully erect, over-sensitive nipple. He draws it into his mouth, sucking on it lightly, applying just enough pressure to make me writhe for more. He's exquisitely tender, as he knows I'm nursing. Much to my embarrassment, I feel a trickle of milk leave my body, but Mulder just hums greedily in the back of his throat. I guess he doesn't mind. The thought of sharing such an intimate act with him causes a new wave of arousal to wash over me.

I try to stay still to absorb each sharp stab of pleasure rocking through me as Mulder licks and kisses my breasts, but it's impossible. Mulder always takes me past reasoning with lightning speed. I'm still sitting on the bed with my robe bunched around my hips. I begin to moan and rock against him, until he gets the idea and pulls me further onto the bed, quickly divesting my hips of the robe that still hangs stubbornly around them.

Why did I ever worry? Did I really believe that he would find me less attractive if the auburn hair he loved so much were gone? I mean, will I love him less or want him less when he lets grow the mustache we have planned for him? It may seem foolish to think that a change in hair color and a mustache can protect us, but we left before anyone even knew I was pregnant.

Living on Mulder's inheritance, we've scoured the back roads of the U.S., staying in cheap hotels and motels, making do with nothing but each other and the excitement of waiting for the arrival of our child. After Brenna's entrance into the world with the help of a midwife in South Carolina, we realized that we would forever be three now. They would be looking for two, just Mulder and me, so we figured that it would be wise to further our transformation. Losing my tell-tale red hair was an obvious first step. The idea for Mulder's mustache came later, but we both agreed it made sense.

Making use of the Gunmen's talents, we now have new names, new drivers' licenses, as well as new Social Security numbers-for all three of us. We are on our way to a new life. (I was shocked that the Gunmen had the means to procure Social Security numbers for us. Then again, Mulder explained that they had managed to close his old account at Marine Craddock, reopen it using his new identity, give me joint account status using my new name, and all without any of us ever stepping foot in the bank. After hearing that, I guess nothing they pull off should surprise me!)

We did think of leaving the country, but I couldn't bear the thought of being that far away from my mother. I couldn't do that to her. It's bad enough that they took Melissa away from her; I just can't let them take me, or her new granddaughter, away from her too. Though they will be infrequent at best, visits are possible if we set everything up properly; use caution. Besides, the consortium has far-reaching power. This country is as good as any other for us to disappear in.

So here I am, my ink-black tresses brushing sensually against the curve of my face above, while Mulder's long-boned fingers gently tease my humid flesh below. He parts the petal-soft lips, swirling the silky moisture around and over my swollen sex. Oh, God, I wish he'd let one solid finger slip inside, ease the ache he's created. I love when he touches me so intimately. I rock against his hand, encouraging his fingers to enter me. When they do, I cry out softly. And when Mulder lowers his head to add his tongue to the seduction, it's only a matter of seconds before I climax hotly against his face. Mulder growls possessively as I come for him, his hungry mouth lapping at the wetness he's created. After he's gotten his fill, he quickly crawls up my body to kiss me. When I taste myself on his lips, on his mouth, I'm immediately thrust past the point of being able to wait another second to feel his body inside mine.

I roughly lower Mulder's boxers over his rock-hard shaft, just far enough for him to be able to slide himself inside me, which he does immediately, much to our mutual satisfaction. For a moment, we are still, not daring to move, simply absorbing the sheer joy of Mulder's penetration. We kiss again, our mouths sliding hungry and hot against each other's. My body is overcome with need. I want him to move inside me, to fuck me hard and deep. Sometimes, when we're like this, when the heat is already unbearable between us, Mulder kicks it up a notch and does something that drives me absolutely insane with lustful pleasure.

Slowly he pulls out of me.

"No," I whimper frantically and try to pull his body back to mine.

With an air of calm control, he moves to a kneeling position. He reaches for me, and I scurry to help him lift my lower body up and onto his thighs, impatient to feel him within me again. He gathers my legs around him, then pulls my aching core against his, impaling me deeply on his shaft. He caresses my thighs, adjusting them to rest against his, just the way he wants them to, like he has all the time in the world, like I'm not absolutely dying for him to begin pounding inside me.

He rocks me a little harder on his cock, a few gentle thrusts, so I can feel just a tremor of what he's capable of making me feel. He caresses my body...my belly, my breasts...until the wetness from where are bodies join saturates us. When he's teased me almost beyond reasoning, when even the slightest movement of his body against the slick, tight walls of my sex sends waves of pre-orgasmic pleasure through me, he finally grabs my hips tightly to him and begins thrusting in earnest. His mouth hangs open in rapture, his eyes shut tightly as he strokes in and out of me with a languid rhythm designed to shatter my very soul and destroy any ability I might ever acquire of going a day without him this way.

It's too much pleasure, too much...and when I clench myself around him, just as he begins a slow inward thrust, I'm lifted to such heights of pleasure, I'm frightened that I won't be able to bear it. My body quakes, and I feel my womb pulse in orgasmic bliss. I let out a sharp cry of ecstasy as Mulder commands my very soul to do his bidding. The joy, both physically and spiritually, is so complete, so transcendental, that I'm left sobbing. I am so in love with this man.

I open my eyes, wanting to watch his beautiful face as he comes, but to my surprise, he stills his movements and simply stares down at me. His dark fingers splay against the whiteness of my sweat-slicked thighs, and he caresses them softly.

"I love you," he whispers.

I can feel his hardness still buried deep inside me. I hold out my arms to him, beckoning him to fall into my embrace, to let himself fall into the sweet oblivion that I know is so close to claiming him. I long to watch the pleasure on his face, but Mulder has different ideas.

He grasps my hips once more drawing me up and more deeply onto his hard shaft, as if to remind me that he's still making love to me, still inside me. Like I could forget when he so completely fills and completes me. He slides me on and off of himself a few more times, and then, though I moan in protest, withdraws himself completely...again. Ooooh, he is teasing me; sweetly torturing me in the most decadent of ways.

My heart beats wildly for I know now what frame of mind Mulder is in, what he has planned for me. Tonight will be all about my pleasure. He will do whatever he must to see that I'm brought to the very pinnacle of sexual nirvana. My walls will be broken down, my defenses stripped. I will be totally bared to him, totally vulnerable. My deepest needs and most secret desires all entrusted to him. He won't stop until he has me begging, pleading for sweet release. And when it finally comes, when he finally grants it to me, it will be all the more soul-shattering for my having been made to wait.

Yes, Mulder knows what I like.

"Oh, God," I cry out, remembering the last time we played this sweet lovers' game. How he had worshiped me, teased me...brought me to orgasm so many times that I lost count.

Mulder lets my legs slide off his, and they fall open around him. He finally removes his boxers and then tosses them aside. Now he is completely naked, just the way I love him. He is the most beautiful man on this earth, especially when he's hard as granite and still glistening with the wetness of my desire. I reach out to touch him, which he knows I love to do, so he moves closer, close enough for me to wrap my fingers around his thick shaft and run my hand along its hardness.

"You like that?" he questions huskily, glancing down at his straining cock.

"Oh yes," I whisper. "I love it," shooting him a look of pure want, void of any schoolgirl pretense.

With that, he lays his body on top of mine and kisses me thoroughly. I've lost hold of him now, but I can hardly complain as he's in the process of kissing me everywhere and has just found my neck, the most erogenous spot on my body. He's running his lips up and down the side of my neck, stopping along the way to gently bite and suck me. My body melts and my hands clutch his shoulders desperately; it feels so good.

He moves to the other side of my neck, giving it the same attention. Mmmm, so good, I can hardly stand the pleasure. He continues this barrage, his arms wrapped tightly around me, teeth and mouth wringing all the pleasure they can out of that most sensitive area a few inches below my ear. I'm writhing beneath him, throbbing with the need to feel him slip deep inside once again. I know he's trying to prolong my pleasure, take me to as yet unseen levels of ecstasy, but I'm absolutely aching for him. I don't think men understand, truly understand, just how good it feels to be impaled by them, utterly filled by them. Stretched to the point where you're sure you couldn't possibly take one more millimeter of their hard length; that is until they're thrusting that last millimeter home and you're eagerly spreading yourself wider, arching your hips higher to accommodate it.

"Please, Mulder," I beg. "Please..."

He moves us both to the top of the bed. Kneeling, he sandwiches me between his body and the headboard, lifting me, drawing my legs around his hips, settling my ass upon his thighs. He reaches for a pillow and then places it between my upper back and the wall, allowing me to get comfortable against it. My arms go around his neck, while one of his hands finds my lower back. His other hand mercifully dips down between my legs.

My head falls back against the pillow as he runs one finger lightly over the throbbing center of my need. He squeezes and tugs at the small bud, until I'm arching against him with exquisite pleasure. His thumb soon takes up the seduction, allowing his middle finger to slip past my entrance and deep inside. Curling it upward, he searches for the spot that drives me crazy. When he finds it, I moan helplessly and my body jerks. He expertly brushes his finger over and against it in small tight circles.

"Mulder, oh...don't stop, please, oh, God...don't stop."

I'm rambling now...praying, begging that he won't stop what he's doing. He continues pressing his finger up into me, against that spot while his thumb teases back and forth over the hypersensitive tip of my clit. I look down to watch, almost disbelieving that anything could feel so good, and the sight of his long fingers, touching me, stroking in and out of me is too much. I bite back a scream as my climax rips through me, leaving me breathless and shaking. I sigh, falling against Mulder's shoulder, the spasms still pulsing through my tight walls.

He's made me come three times already: once against his succulent mouth; again, impaled on his cock; and finally with his beautiful fingers pressed against my G-spot. How can I take anymore? Yet Mulder is looking at me with a predatory glare that seems to say, "The fun hasn't even begun," and I shudder, sliding weakly down his thighs.

Moving my body closer to his so that the tips of my breasts brush his chest, I reach up for a kiss, which he willingly bestows upon me, nipping and biting my lips playfully. His cock is pressed between our bodies, rock hard and radiating heat. I want it inside me, want to feel it spreading me open, penetrating me.

Mulder repositions the pillow behind me and wraps the fingers of his left hand tightly around the edge of the low headboard. His right grasps his erection, making a loose fist around it, and begins to stroke it smoothly back and forth. The backs of his knuckles graze against the soft curve of my belly as he does so. I'm mesmerized by the sight and try to put my hand where his is, moaning with undisguised lust.

"Do you like that?" he questions softly.

I nod a silent "yes," moaning eagerly, my eyes transfixed on the enthralling sight of him. My small hand comes to rest on his larger one; my fingers attempt to wrap around his, as he continues to caress himself for the benefit of my hungry gaze.

His voice is softly teasing, almost coddling, as he whispers, "Yes, I know...I know...that would feel so good inside of you wouldn't it? Deep inside. Would you like that, Scully? Do you want that?"

My heart is beating erratically as I try to keep control over the blazing fire that is my need. I'm at his mercy. Turning my face up to his, my eyes two bottomless pools of desire, I beg him without words, to please, please take me.

Mulder's eyes are dark as they rake over me, taking in my feverishly aroused state. He pauses a moment as he considers just what he may or may not want to do about that arousal, forcing me to wait for his lead. The walls of my sex pulse and liquefy as visions of all the ways he can take me leave me panting. "Here," he says, sliding his left hand away from the headboard and under my ass. "Lift up," he commands and I obey, with his help. "Come closer."

Oh God, yes...I cry to myself.

He lifts me up and against him, just enough that he can position his cock at my swollen entrance. I feel the muscles in his arm rippling as he holds me above him, just out of reach of his straining cock. He rubs the satiny head against my slick folds, teasing for a moment, then lets me sink slowly, blissfully down onto his hard length.

"There," he says soothingly once I've slid all the way down and he's buried inside. "Better?" he asks, but I can offer no reply as I'm already moving up and down on him whimpering shamelessly with joy.

"Mmmm, yeah," he croons softly. "That's it, yeah. Take it nice and deep. That's it."

He grabs the headboard with both hands now, holding his body steady. My hips sway and bounce happily against the invading heat of him. I'm moaning continuously now, this position is so good. My feet are able to reach the mattress just enough to give me leverage. My upper back and head are secured by Mulder's arms and the pillow. Mulder's mouth is within kissing distance, though he's currently content to simply watch my face as I lose my mind with pleasure, talking to me, encouraging me. I'm absolutely wanton. I'm lost in the feeling of him inside me, around me, watching me as I shiver in the throes of complete carnal bliss.

Mulder braces himself as I ride him hard, his body at my disposal, selflessly given for my pleasure. My arms tighten around his neck now, clinging to him as I lengthen my strokes, feeling him almost slip out of me, then thrusting him back inside again so very, very deep.

"Mulder. Mulder," I gasp, nearing what promises to be a mind- blowing orgasm.

This experience has been fantastic, being able to move against him freely, at my own pace, but now I want to feel his rhythm, his thrusts. I want him to take me over the edge. I reach my arms behind my back, grabbing the headboard myself.

"You...please" is all I can get out, but he knows what I need.

Mulder shimmies down the bed a bit to give me room to stretch out and grabs my hips. I'm suspended in air, my arms stretched behind me clinging to the headboard, only my lower body braced against Mulder as he begins thrusting. Within two strokes, he's found that spot again and is hitting it precisely over and over. Paralyzing pleasure seizes me and I'm helpless as it rushes up my body like fire, igniting every nerve, every inch of my flesh, the weight of it pinning me to Mulder's cock.

My nipples tighten and my throat sings as Mulder's fingers find my clit, bringing my pleasure to an unbelievably sharp point of pure, relentless bliss. Hearing his hoarse shout, I feel Mulder go over the edge with me. We are in Heaven, and I never want it to end. I feel free and happy and loved.

Finally, our bodies spent, we fall limply together, sinking down into the mattress and under the covers. We lie face to face. Mulder's eyes are heavy, but he's alert and stroking my temple. I love him so much.

"Thank you," I say with complete sincerity.

"You're beautiful Scully, inside and out, and I love you. There's no need to thank me."

"You always know what I need Mulder, and you never hesitate in giving it to me. For that I am thankful, and always will be."

He looks at me tenderly and then gathers me close against him.

Just then, we hear a soft sound coming from the carrier on the table. Mulder peeks over my shoulder to investigate. I move to get up, to go to Brenna, but Mulder stops me.

"She must be dreaming," he whispers. "She's fine."

I turn to see for myself and find that she is indeed peacefully slumbering, hopefully dreaming sweet dreams.

Mulder spoons up behind me, adjusting the pillow so that his head is elevated enough to see his baby.

"She's probably dreaming about your breast Scully," he teases, and I can picture the leer on his face.

"Mul-derrr!," I laugh.

"Think about it Scully. It's the only form of pleasure she knows at this age. When you nurse her, she's warm and safe and her little belly is being filled. It's beautiful. I love to watch you with her."

I feel my throat grow tight with tears as I consider his words.

"You should see your face when she's at your breast Scully," he adds. "It's amazing."

I hug his arms where they are wrapped around me, dipping my head to kiss a muscular forearm.

"I love you," I whisper and then add, "And just think, now your two best girls both have the same jet-black hair."

"Scully!," he scolds and turns me around so that I'm facing him again. "You're just as beautiful now," he assures me, the truth of his statement evident in his eyes.

Still, I challenge him.

"Oh yeah? What about 'nothing compares to the splendid beauty of your eyes except your halo of auburn fire, that always takes me by surprise'?"

And I quote from the first, most beloved and by far the cheesiest love poem that Mulder ever wrote for me. His eyes are wide, and he's smiling as he remembers his words.

"You would remember that!" he groans, embarrassed.

"Mulder," I say seriously, getting his attention. "I adored that poem. It was the first time anyone ever told me anything like that, made me feel like that. It was the first poem you ever wrote for me, and I cherish every word of it," I confide. "Now my halo of auburn fire is nothing but a pile of ash." I place a hand on my head in a woeful display of self-pity.

"Scully," Mulder chuckles, trying to lighten my morose mood. I know I'm feeling sorry for myself, but I liked being his "halo of auburn fire."

He grabs my shoulders, looks me straight in the eye, and says, "Scully, I did love your red hair, your 'auburn halo,' but it is you that I truly fell in love with. Your eyes, your smile, your beautiful mouth. And...," he pauses, "your skin, your ass, affect me down south."

Now we're both laughing.

"Wait," I tease as I pretend to get up. "Let me get the pen."

He grabs me, and then kisses me passionately.

"What I'm trying to say," he begins again as our lips part, "is that your hair is just one part of the whole package. The package that I love more than life itself. I wouldn't care if your hair were purple; it would make no difference."

He smiles. "Plus," he twirls a dark lock around his finger, "this is already growing on me."

He pulls me up to kiss me again. I taste his mouth, exulting in its sweetness.

"By the way, Mulder," I say, pulling away from him slightly.

"Hmmm?" he questions, huskily. "You are abso-fucking-lutely amazing in bed."

He's beaming now.

"I'm only as good as my partner," and he winks.

End Part 2 of 3

Stay With Me Always (3/3) Author: Scully's Baby Blues

It's 2 a.m. in the morning and Brenna has just screamed for her long-overdue midnight feeding. As she suckles happily, I glance over at Mulder who, sound asleep, has obviously decided getting some more zz's is more enticing than watching the "amazing" natural wonder that is breast feeding. I feel like smacking him! But I guess if it weren't my breast being tugged on by Brenna, I'd be sleeping too. Especially after that sexual Olympiad we performed a few hours ago. "AND THE GOLD GOES TO FOX MULDER!" Hoo-boy does it ever.

I hear a soda drop from the machine across the parking lot, along with the sound of hushed voices, and am reminded again that we are in a motel room in Palm Springs, Florida. I feel so at home with my new family that I sometimes forget we are not exactly living the American Dream. But we are living our dream; to be safe and sound and together.

With Brenna, we have more joy than we could have ever hoped for. She's beautiful. She's got Mulder's eyes, though they are blue, and my mouth. Her hair is definitely her great grandmother's on my mom's side. She was Black Irish, with fair skin and jet-black hair. Her nose is Mrs. Mulder's, and her ears look sort of like Charlie's and mine. She's like a little doll, and I still can't believe she's ours.

I'll never forget the look on Mulder's face when I told him. I can't forget any of that night. I had just turned in for another sleepless five hours, visions of Mulder's face sure to haunt me. Was he afraid? Were they hurting him? Was he calling out for me? So many questions, such unending agony.

Then the doorbell rang. I had no idea who it could possibly be. I grabbed my weapon and then chastised myself for the action. After all, if whomever it was wanted to hurt me, why ring the bell? When I was halfway to the door, the bell rang again, followed by the voice that had been echoing in my mind for exactly 29 days, 5 hours and 30 minutes.


I opened the door so fast that I bashed it into my knee and then my elbow as I struggled to get through the doorway and get Mulder into my arms. We both cried and hugged tightly. Then we kissed, so sweet and poignant. The kiss of reunited lovers who against all odds were once again in each other's arms. We struggled as we moved into the room, not wanting to part even for the five seconds that it took to walk to the couch.

Mulder was wearing the same clothes that he was wearing the last time that I'd seen him, when I had given him my cross and kissed him goodbye. The cross still hung securely from his neck.

"Are you alright?" I cried, running my hands over him, feeling for any injury.

He assured me that he was okay and told me that all he could remember was being taken, and then being rescued by Deep Throat, of all people. I couldn't believe it. We guessed that C.G.B. Spender must have had a soft spot in his hardened heart for his old friend. Perhaps Spender had orchestrated the use of a shapeshifter's healing powers to save Deep Throat, after he had taken a bullet in the chest in the name of "purity control."

Mulder's memory was very foggy. He asked me what the date was, and was surprised when I told him that he had been gone for 29 days. Amazingly, he seemed none the worse for wear. After we determined that he had no chip implanted in his neck or anywhere else on his body that we could find, I broke the news.

"Mulder, I'm pregnant."

His face was a mask of shock and disbelief.


"We're going to have a baby, Mulder. All tests so far are normal. I think this is going to be a normal pregnancy. You're going to be a father."

"Oh, God," he choked out. "Oh, God," and he grabbed me.

We held each other all night talking about our love, our baby and our future. We quickly came to the same conclusion. We had to leave. So we did, all three of us.

I packed pictures of my family, a small jewelry box of sentimental items (including Mulder's poem), my bank books for good measure--though we wouldn't be needing them--and some clothes. We couldn't risk going to Mulder's, so he could bring no personal belongings, except for his wallet, which was, to my great shock, still in his pocket when he showed up at my door.

He didn't mind. Material possessions seemed of no importance to Mulder. He said that he had everything he needed in his arms, as he held me close and stroked my belly. We held hands and took one last look around the apartment where so much had occurred over the years of our partnership. I was crying softly, overcome with a rush of emotion at the thought of the new life we were embarking on together, when suddenly I remembered something.

"Wait!," I cried, walking swiftly into the bedroom. How could I have forgotten? I returned to the living room to find Mulder waiting patiently by the door.

"What is it?" he asked, spying the large box in my hand.

"It's something for you. I had it done after we found Samantha."

He looked surprised. Perhaps he thought that I had not really believed that he had seen Samantha. Strangely, though it defied rational explanation, I did believe him, in my soul. I handed him the wide flat box, and he opened one end of it.

"Careful," I warned as he began pulling out the contents.

When he saw my gift, tears sprang immediately to his eyes.

"It was fate that I found it Mulder. I'd never seen anything like it."

The midnight blue, enamel frame, overlaid with hundreds of bright stars and a glowing full moon in the right corner, was made to hold pictures of various shapes and sizes. All but one of the pictures were of Samantha, her happy, innocent face smiling back at us. The largest one in the center was of Samantha and Mulder, the last picture they had ever taken together. Both of them were standing against a tree with their arms crossed. Mulder looked smug, like the teasing know-it-all older brother that he was.

Tears were streaking down Mulder's face faster than he could wipe them away.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I don't know what to say."

I took him in my arms.

"Now we will always be reminded of the safe, beautiful place where Samantha is. Full of love and light, where she has found peace."

We cried together for all the beautiful souls lost to this struggle, souls that were hopefully at peace and waiting patiently to be reunited with those of us who miss them.

We held hands as we closed the door to my apartment...the door to the past. I didn't think it was possible for us to grow closer than we were at that moment, but we have.

My eyes drift contentedly over the two miracles in my life, one dark-haired angel sleeping in my arms, the other, lying by my side. I can hardly bear to return Brenna to the carrier. She's so warm and sweet, and I'd really love to hold her all night. But I'm terrified that one of us would roll over on her. After tucking Brenna back into her "bed," I pad back towards my bed, and Mulder. I drape my body over Mulder's, keeping him warm and protected. My eyes catch sight of the weapon that is always within reach. It sits on the nightstand, ominous and dark. We pray we'll never have to use it, but its presence is a comfort nonetheless.

I awake in the morning to Mulder's voice singing softly and sweetly to Brenna. He probably doesn't know I'm awake, so I lie still and just listen.

"When I'm stuck with a day, that's gray and low-own-lee, I just stick out my chin and grin and say...Ooooh...

"The sun'll come out for Brenna, bet your bottom dollar that for Brenna, there'll be sun.

"Just thinking about my Brenna, clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow till there's none."

At this moment, as I listen to his tender exchange with Brenna, I think I love him more than I ever have. I drift back to sleep to the sound of his voice.

A few hours later we're all packed (what little we have) and are on the road again. One of the first things we did after getting our new ID's from the boys was to buy a new car--a BMW. The safety features impressed us. We want our baby and each other as safe as possible.

As we drive down the seemingly endless highway going nowhere in particular, I am reminded of all the hours we've spent together on lonely stretches of highway. There is one major difference, though. I glance back at Brenna who's contentedly sucking on her pacifier, a lamb-shaped rattle clutched in her hand. I really hate to let her get used to the pacifier, for the sake of the tiny tubes in her inner ear, but sometimes it's the only thing that will calm her down.

"We really shouldn't let her get used to that," I say to Mulder, having already mentioned the ear concern to him before.

"I know," he says. "I never had problems with my ears as a child, did you?"

"Yes," I answer emphatically. "I had several painful ear infections, but the doctors back then didn't know how harmful sucking a pacifier could be to the ear."

"What do you think we should do?" he asks, and it strikes me suddenly how very normal and sane our lives are in this instant, how sweetly uncomplicated as we discuss whether we should let our little girl keep her pacifier or not. I start to chuckle.

"What?" he asks mirroring my smile, chuckling just because I am.

But soon I'm laughing hysterically and Mulder's smile changes to concern. He signals and begins looking for a safe spot to pull off the road. Brenna is staring at me quizzically, too, her face bearing an uncanny resemblance to Mulder's as she does so.

"Mulder, I'm fine," I spurt out.

The familiarity of that statement starts off another fit of giggles though, because I really am this time.

When we come to a full stop, Mulder turns the ignition off and reaches for me.

"Scully, what is it? What's so funny?"

"I'm happy."

His face cracks into a big smile, all teeth. He looks good enough to eat.

"I'm totally fucking happy," I yell again as if I want the world to know.

He hugs me hard, squeezing me to him.

"I'm so glad," he whispers, "'cause I am, too."

As my laughter subsides, I hug him back and explain how oddly beautiful I thought it was that the biggest problem of the day was Bren's pacifier. He laughs with me, and we both glance back at our child, her face still looking just like Mulder's when he puzzles over an X-file.

No more X-files for us.

"Do you ever miss it, Mulder?"

He looks at me questioningly.


"The X-Files, your quest, any of it? I mean...I know that we found Samantha, but I wonder if you ever felt that there was more to do?"

He takes my hand, answering me firmly.

"No. I always thought that I would miss the X-Files, but somewhere along the line, probably longer ago than you'd ever imagine, you and your happiness became the most important thing to me...our happiness," he corrects.

"It sustains me, fills me, eases all the aches in my soul that I had tried so hard to run away from all my life."

I stroke his face tenderly, once again marveling at his ability to open up with me. We've both learned how to communicate, and it feels great.

"I know," I whisper back to him. "It's like my life began the day I knew that you loved me the way I loved you. I'm not sure you truly realize it Mulder, but I'm going to say it plain and clear. You are my life. Without you, there would be no me. I never want to be apart from you, not for a day. I want to spend every night in your arms and wake up every morning to your sweet smile. I want to cry with you at Brenna's graduations and dance with you at her wedding. I want the time we have together to move slowly, but not so slowly that I forget to cherish every moment spent by your side, every precious touch. And when my time finally comes, when it's time to say goodbye to this life, I want to make that final journey with you, because I could never bear to see you go first, and I know you could never bear to say goodbye to me."

I'm crying now and so is Mulder.

"Scully," he sobs, "don't, don't think about that. We will be together, always, " he promises.

And I believe him, because he's never broken a promise to me yet. I hold him tightly.

Finally, after a few sweet kisses, he pulls away and starts the car. Brenna, realizing the show is over, goes back to shaking her little rattle. Life is good, and I thank God that I'm smart enough to appreciate it.

Mulder wants to see the Rocky Mountains. I think that's where we're headed, but I don't ask. I don't need to. I know we're going together; the destination doesn't matter. When Brenna's older we'll attempt to settle down somewhere, but for now the open road is ours. Yes, life can be funny sometimes, but sometimes it's just beautiful.

As the car picks up speed, I lean over and whisper in Mulder's ear.

"Love you, Nathaniel." He smiles at my making fun of his new identity.

"I love you, too, Cora," he teases back.

Frohike has taken the liberty of naming us after his favorite hero and heroine from The Last of the Mohicans. Fitting I think. Two survivors, just like us. Great movie! Plus, if Mulder had gotten his way, I'd be Candy, and he'd be Dirk!


"Mommy, Mommy!," Brenna screams. "Let ME see, let ME see!"

Mulder lifts her up, light as a flower, and holds her so that she can take her first peek at the baby brother that I've brought home. She giggles at the sight of him.

"He looks just like you did when you were a baby, sweetie," I tell her.

She puts on her classic Mulder look as her three-and-a-half- year-old mind tries to comprehend that statement. Nicky does look just like Brenna. Another dark-haired, blue-eyed baby, only I think Nicky's skin complexion will take after Mulder's, not mine.

"You think he wants to play with me?" she asks.

Mulder smiles and tells her that she'll have to wait for that, planting a kiss on her flowing hair.

A kiss for me comes next, and I smile as I feel Mulder's mustache brushing against my lips. I can't begin to describe how handsome it makes him look, how dark and sexy. I never thought anything could make me find Mulder more attractive, but I was wrong. When we make love, it brushes softly over and against my body, and I am lost.

Mulder places one more kiss on Nicky's soft brow, then carries Brenna off to the kitchen to start on those sandwiches he promised. So this is normal life, huh? As long as Mulder and I are together, I'll take it. I am truly happy.

Final note from Author:

Hope you all liked it. It's my total fantasy in life to be completely free (no job, no responsibilities). I would love to just travel here and there with the man I love and my child for a few years, experiencing many different sights, many different places. Then settle down when the child needs to be in school. Of course, I'm single and have no kids...so that might be hard. But this is fantasy right?

Also, I'm sure some of you who read this will find the idea of Scully getting so upset by a change in her hair color as ridiculous and out of character. The way I figure it, we've never seen her in this particular situation, we've never seen how she would act/feel in a relationship, with Mulder, the hottest guy on earth, no less. I feel she could very well have some feelings of sadness/insecurity at losing something that is her signature feature in many people's eyes. Something she feels Mulder really gets turned on by: her beautiful red hair! But Mulder fixes her right up, doesn't he?

Oh and this whole story was inspired by a picture I saw of Gillian Anderson in a T.V. Guide issue from 11/23/98. The picture can be found here http://www.gillian-anderson.co.uk/frames_index.html

scroll down to TV Guide Pics 11/23/98

The 6th and 12th ones down just made me think of her with black hair.

Anyhow, that's my story...

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