Title: Undercover Operation
Author: Angela W.
Written: October 2003
Category: AU (MSR and DRR)
Rating: NC-17
Timespan/Spoilers: This is part of a vaguely interconnected series of AU stories I write (sometimes with help from Audrey_Jay, although I did this one by myself) that presume the X-Files were never reopened after they were shutdown at the end of season one. Thus, nothing bad that happened to anyone after that time (death, alien abduction, loss of fertility, etc.) ever happened.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They are the property of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
Feedback: If you like it or have *constructive* criticism, feedback is valued.
Archive: Feel free to archive anywhere.

Summary: Four FBI agents go undercover. Four very lonely women come to visit them.

FBI Assistant Director Walter Skinner stared at the report in front of him. The eco-terrorists had struck again. He knew, more or less, the company that was fronting for them. The only trouble was getting a group of FBI agents into the construction company that was operating as its cover in order to gather enough evidence to nail them.

He'd heard the company had just taken on a project in Kentucky and was looking for subcontractors. If he moved fast enough, he might be able to pass himself off as a foreman with a crew looking for work. But he'd need agents he could trust and at least one with a scientific background to run tests on the materials they might uncover. Time to start calling in some favors.

A few hours later, Skinner had the three men he'd chosen in his office. All were personal friends as well as competent agents. He explained the assignment rapidly.

"Sure, I'll do it," Special Agent Fox Mulder agreed. "But you do realize I've never gone undercover before, sir?"

"It'll only be undercover in the job sense," Skinner replied. "You can use your real name and I'll still be your boss. Given your background as a profiler, I think you'll probably be the best one to get the men talking, figure out where the next target is going to be."

"I'm in," Agent Doggett added. "I've done undercover work before and I've also worked construction. Shouldn't be much of a problem for me."

"I'll do it if you want me to, sir," Agent Pendrell said. "But I'm not sure I'm the best choice for this assignment. I'm primarily an analyst; my field experience is limited and I've never done undercover work before. I've also never worked construction and I doubt I could fool anybody into believing that I have."

"We need at least one agent with a background in hard science," Skinner said. "The only way we're ever going to get the proof we need to nail these bastards is to analyze the chemical composition of some of the materials we come across. As for your background. . .we'll play it as close to the truth as possible. You're Mulder's brother-in-law, you're college-educated, but you've recently been downsized. You've got a wife, a child and another baby on the way; you're desperate for some way to support your family, so you've taken a blue collar job. You won't be *that* out of place; apparently every construction crew in America currently has at least one displaced white collar worker on the team."

Pendrell nodded.

"You're going to be doing *what*?" Melissa Scully Pendrell asked her husband.

"Going undercover with Mulder and Skinner and Doggett. They need somebody with a science background."

"Ooo-kay," Melissa said slowly. "How long will you be gone?"

Pendrell shrugged. "Skinner's hoping we can get in and find the evidence we need within a month, but he doesn't know for sure. It will take as long as it takes."

Pendrell glanced at Missy's figure, her belly softly rounded with the fourth month of her second pregnancy. Their 18-month-old daughter, Kathleen, was sitting beside Missy on the bed happily stacking foam blocks and knocking them down again. "Are you upset because I didn't discuss it with you first?"

Missy shook her head slowly. "Not that. It's just. . .this sounds more dangerous than working in the labs."

"I'll be okay, Missy. And I don't spend all my time in the lab, even here. Occasionally they call me out to process a crime scene."

"I know. I remember the first time you came home from dealing with one. I think that was the first time it hit me that, despite the fact that you're a scientist, you're also, to get right down to it, a cop. And I'm a cop's wife. Sometimes I worry that I don't handle it very well."

"What, being a wife? You're a *great* wife, Missy!"

"I don't know. I'm awfully. . . needy."

"I like that you need me. I need you, too. I couldn't even imagine my life without you and Kathleen."

"But why do *you* have to go?" Kimberly Skinner demanded of her husband. "You're an assistant director, for cryin' out loud! You're supposed to sit in an office and supervise!"

"That's what I'm going to be doing: supervising. But I'm not going to send my agents into a dangerous situations while I stay back at the office, safe and sound."

"You could have at least talked this over with me first! Sometimes I think you forget to I'm your wife, not your secretary any longer."

"I'm not likely to forget we're married, Kimby," Skinner pointed out, his glance straying to the baby in her arms. "Not when Michelle is right here in the same room with us. But. . .you're right. I should have discussed it with you first. Sometimes I have a hard time adjusting to that idea. Forgive me?"

Kimberly's face softened into a smile. Walter Skinner was the last of the dinosaur daddies, she thought. He had all the faults of an older generation: he wasn't big into sharing his feelings. But he also had all those almost-forgotten virtues: fidelity, bravery, integrity and a host of other admirible qualities that were hard to come by in this day and age. She'd known both the upside and the downside of his personality when they married and she wasn't going to change him at this point in his life.

"Of course I forgive you, Walt. By the way, I have news of my own. I went to the doctor today."

Skinner nodded. He'd known her six weeks check up was today. She'd quit her job a few weeks before the baby was born and, while he'd fully supported that decision, he wondered if she was dealing with a bit of postpartum depression. "What did he say?"

"That as long as my husband was quote 'gentle' we could resume sexual relations. I said that my husband is *always* gentle with me."

"The doctor saw me in the delivery room, Kimby. I'm built like a linebacker and you're a tiny little thing. No wonder he was worried that I might hurt you."

"You never have," she pointed out.

"You're going undercover as a construction worker with Assistant Director Skinner and my brother-in-law?" Scully asked her husband, fairly certain she must have heard him incorrectly.

"And John Doggett," Mulder added in the interest of clarification.

"Mulder, even when we worked the X-Files together you never came up with an idea *this* weird!"

"It's not my idea, it's Skinner's."

"Well, you agreed to it."

"Dana, are you mad at me?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. The kids will miss you."

"The *kids* will miss me?"

Scully's face softened into a smile. "I'll miss you. I wish I was going with you."

"I actually suggested that. Said we could take you along instead of Pendrell. Let you do whatever scientific analyses needed to be done at wherever we were staying. I figured we could bring Emily and William, just rent a place for a month or two."

"What did Skinner say?"

"No go. Pointed out that if our cover was blown things could get real ugly, real fast and that we wouldn't want our children in the middle of that. Which is true, of course."

"I know. It's just. . ."

"I don't want to be away from you, Dana. I'll miss you. But Skinner's done us a lot of favors over the years. I guess I thought it was time I returned one."

"You're right, of course, Fox."

"You took on an undercover assignment without even consulting me?" Monica Reyes demanded of her husband.

"It's my job, Monica," Doggett pointed out dryly.

"Can't I go with you?"

"Nope, sorry. Mulder and I *both* tried that. Asked if we couldn't bring you and Scully along, since you're agents yourselves. But apparently this place we're going. . .well, you know how you seem to think all my relatives are a bunch of Neanderthals?"

"I've never said that," Monica replied. But it was true enough. She privately referred to visiting her husband's family in Georgia as a trip to redneck central.

"Whatever. Anyway, from the way Skinner was describing this organization, my brothers and father would look like Alan Alda compared to most of the men involved in it. They wouldn't accept you as an equal and if it seemed like *I* was treating you as an equal, my cover would be blown. There's also the minor matter of our son."

"Well, if we'd both gone, we could have taken Luke with us."

"And done *what* with him, Monica? Homeschooled him and kept him locked inside the house? Unless we did, our cover would have been blown within days. Have you ever known Luke to go an entire week without bragging that his parents are FBI agents? He thinks we have the coolest job in the world."

"I guess you're right I just. . .thought you wouldn't be doing this sort of stuff any more, now that you're at headquarters."

"I'm the only guy on the team who has extensive undercover experience and who's actually worked construction. I'll miss you and Luke, of course, but without meaning to sound conceited I think they really need me on this assignment."

Several weeks later, Pendrell straightened up from a microscope and shook his head at the other three men gathered around in the small trailer they were sharing. "Nope. Nothing here that shouldn't be."

"Maybe you should take another look at the sample, Agent Pendrell," Skinner suggested.

"What the fuck do you expect me to do, Skinner?" Pendrell hollered. "Fabricate the damned data?? I'm telling you, there's nothing here!"

"Agent Pendrell you're about two seconds away from being dismissed from the bureau!" Skinner snapped back.

"Hey!" Mulder said softly, getting up and standing between the two men. "Take it easy. Both of you."

Pendrell backed down first, saying gruffly, "Sorry, Skinner. I shouldn't have addressed you like that."

"And I had no right to suggest you weren't doing your job competently," Skinner admitted. "If there's no trace of nitrates in that sample, we'll look elsewhere."

"I think we're all just under a bit of stress," Doggett suggested.

"A *bit* of stress?" Mulder inquired. "We're surrounded by a bunch of ecoterrorists who'd kill us without compunction if they knew we were FBI agents, nobody's been laid for a month and we're all armed; personally, I think it's amazing that none of us have shot each other yet."

Doggett chuckled at that.

The following Friday night, the four federal agents were at a bar they'd taken to hanging out in. It was a rough place, with a fight nearly every weekend and plenty of lonely women looking for company, but so far they'd manage to avoid any entanglements. They just sat and drank, occasionally engaging each other in a game of pool. Mulder and Skinner were okay pool players. Doggett was good. Pendrell, to the surprise of the other agents, was *very* good.

They'd finally found the proof they needed and Skinner had managed to contact the FBI while in a nearby town purchasing supplies. He'd been told that two agents would arrive in town tonight and meet them at the bar to receive the disk containing the evidence. He hadn't been told the agents' names, only assured that the men on the task force would recognize them as soon as they came in.

Mulder happened to be glancing at the door when two women walked in. Like most women who entered the bar, they were dressed in tight jeans and low-cut T-shirts and were wearing way too much make-up. He was out of his chair before the door closed, barely taking time to touch Doggett on the shoulder and jerk his head in the direction of the women before moving toward the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Mulder asked, coming up behind the women and leaning over the shoulder of the petite redhead.

"Why yes, I'd like that," Scully said, smiling up at her husband and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"Would you like to dance?" Doggett asked the taller, dark-haired woman.

"That's what I'm here for," Reyes replied, moving swiftly into her husband's arms.

Mulder brought the drinks - and his wife - back to the table where Skinner and Pendrell were sitting. "Look at this pretty little thing I met up with," he said, sitting down and pulling Scully into his lap. He had a threefold reason for seating her there instead of in Doggett's recently vacated chair. The first was that he felt it was more in keeping with the character of the bar; the second was that, after nearly six weeks of sleeping alone, he *wanted* to hold her as closely as possible; the third was that the placement was strategic enough to hide the rather visible reaction he was having to her presence.

Scully gave a smile and a murmured "Please to meet y'all" to Pendrell and Skinner, then immediately began nuzzling Mulder's ear. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have been so affectionate in front of an audience, but she was trying to maintain her cover. Although it was hardly a problem to react as if she were hungry for her husband's touch: she was.

Out on the dance floor, Monica forced herself to follow Doggett's lead in the intricate steps he was using to whisk them around. He was a good dancer, and normally she enjoyed moving with him to music, but now she was fighting the urge to just melt against his hard body.


"Yeah, baby?"

"Your muscles feel bigger than I remember."

"Probably all the physical work I've been doing this past month. Instead of an hour in the gym every other day, I've been spending nine or ten hours a day, five days a week, working construction. But don't talk about 'remembering' stuff about me while we're in this bar. Act like I've just picked you up for the evening."

Pendrell was beginning to get disgusted with watching Dana make out with Mulder; mostly because Missy wasn't there to provide him with the same treatment. "What's your name?" he asked her.

"My name?" Scully repeated, adding what sounded like a drunken giggle to the end of it. "Dana. And would you believe this fox's name actually is Fox?"

"This is why I insisted you call me 'Mulder' during the entire first year we knew each other," her husband hissed in her ear.

"You wouldn't happen to have a sister, would you?" Pendrell asked

"Um, yeah, as a matter of fact I do," Scully said, playing along. "But I don't know that you'd like her. She's kind of ditzy."

"I don't think that would be a problem," Pendrell replied.

"Her boobs are bigger than mine," Scully continued.

"Then I *definitely* think I could put up with a bit of ditziness," Pendrell replied. "Although, who knows, maybe she's not as ditzy as most people think she is."

Looking carefully around to make sure nobody else at the bar was paying attention to their table, Scully slid a plastic card out of her back pocket and passed it to Pendrell. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't say anything.

"A motel in the next town over," Scully murmured just loud enough for her brother-in-law to hear her. "She thought, being pregnant and all, that it would look weird if you picked her up in a bar."

Pendrell took a quick glance to make sure the address and room number were on the sleeve of the key card, then left the bar quickly.

"You know I think I actually saw little spurts of dust under his feet, like in cartoons," Mulder said. In a quieter voice he murmured in his wife's ear, "Scully, have mercy. You act any friendlier and I'm not going to be able to walk out of here."

"Who's acting, G-man? I'm just glad to see you. How soon can we leave?"

"In a minute."

By this time, Doggett and Reyes and rejoined those at the table, with Monica doing the same giggly drunk impression on her husband's lap as Scully was doing on Mulder's.

"I'm glad everybody is having fun," Skinner said in a tight voice. "Would either of you ladies be interested in the disk that is your ostensible reason for being here?"

"We thought you might want to give it to someone else," Scully replied. "Technically speaking, she's not a bureau employee any more, and even when she worked for the FBI she was secretary, not an agent, but she's still got security clearance."

"Where is she?" Skinner asked.

Monica was tempted to tease him a bit more, but decided that standing between Skinner and his wife might lead to a wholesale firing of all four of the agents at the table. "She had to bring Michelle with her, since she's still breastfeeding. She's at a motel about 30 miles from here." Monica slid the key card across the table and watched it disappear in Skinner's large hand. He moved a bit more sedately than Pendrell had, but still managed to get out the door with no time to spare.

"I think we'll, um, go on home now," Mulder said, dislodging Scully from his lap and standing up.

"We'll probably stay out late," Doggett answered. The trailer had two bedrooms, separated by a narrow kitchen, living room and tiny bathroom, but Doggett wanted to give the other couple as much privacy as he could. The place was flimsily constructed and sounds tended to carry.

As soon as Mulder and Scully had left, Monica turned in her husband's arms and whispered, "I don't want to stay here half the night. I want,"

"I know what you want, Mon," he interrupted her. "All that dirty dancing gave me a pretty clear idea. I've got my truck and a good idea of the local parking spots. We'll go in a minute."

"John Doggett, are you expecting me to engage in sexual relations in a pickup truck like some teenager?"

Doggett grinned. He knew the objection was just kind of a formal thing, something she thought she should say. "Actually," he drawled, while keeping his voice low and his lips near her ears, "I'm expecting a blow job before we ever leave this parking lot."

Monica wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but she decided that she'd been teased enough. "Let's leave then," she replied.

Doggett settled the tab and made his way out the door, his arm tucked firmly around Monica's shoulders. They walked to his truck, which was parked in a dimly lit far corner of the parking lot.

"Were you serious about wanting a blow job before we left this place?"

"Unless you want to drive, baby. I can't drive like this." He pulled her against his body so she'd know *exactly* what he meant by "like this".

"So, um, I get in the truck and you stand beside it?" she asked, not clear on how the logistics of this would work out.

"That's how we'll do it, yeah. But you know I'm an old-fashioned southern boy, sweetheart. I was raised to be polite. That means ladies first."

Before Monica could quite ask what he meant by that, he'd backed her up against the truck and started kissing her. Hard, wet and deep. She made a gurgling sound of pleasure in her throat, which became mixed with inquiry when his hands went to the waistband of her jeans and begin to unbuckle and unsnap with quick, deft movements. Oh, shit, she thought. He's going to make me come. Right here in the parking lot. The man was good with his hands. Damned good. And she was already so aroused from their dancing and flirting and simply from *seeing* him again, after several long weeks, that it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge.

Doggett lessened the pressure of his lips slightly. Monica immediately understood why. It was so she'd have the option wrenching her mouth away and telling him "No", "Don't", "Stop" or "Not here"; any of which would have led to her husband immediately refastening her clothes and opening the door for her, so they could continue their reunion in a more private place. Every rule she'd learned during her strict Hispanic Catholic upbringing and her rigid FBI training told her this was totally inappropriate. Her body, on the other hand, was screaming for the release just inches away. Her heart, which usually got final say in matters like this, reminded her that they were married and, while the setting might have been unusual, the activity wasn't wrong.

It was one of the shortest internal conflicts in history. Monica wrapped her arms more tightly around her husband's neck, shoved her tongue more deeply into his mouth and spread her thighs so he could reach his goal more easily. When he triggered her orgasm with a casual swipe of his fingers, she let him know he'd accomplished what he'd intended by digging her fingernails so deeply into his shoulders that it nearly drew blood.

"I believe it's my turn," Doggett murmured in her ear, his voice a mixture of amusement, arousal and pride.

"In a minute," she whispered back. "Right now the only thing that's keeping me on my feet is being caught between your body and the truck. Let go of me and I'll just melt into a big puddle of sexual satisfaction."

"Baby, you're not anywhere near as satisfied as you're going to be."

Monica wouldn't have thought it possible for her to become immediately excited again after the killer climax she'd just experience, but his words made her start to throb again. Early in their relationship, she'd accused him of bragging and he'd responded with a grin and the statement, "It's not braggin' if you can really do it". Although the original conversation had referred to his profesional abilities, she'd often thought the statement applied equally to his lovemaking. He wasn't bragging when he said he'd bring her to multiple orgasms, just stating a fact.

"Get me in the truck. I want to taste you."

Doggett opened the door and helped his wife in, then reached up and switched the interior light to an off position. Nobody walking by - not that there was anybody within 50 feet of them, anyway - could see Monica inside and he would simply look like a man standing beside his truck with his arms crossed on the roof, contemplating the night sky.

Monica quickly unzipped him and pulled his arousal out. She was torn between her desire to tease him and her desire to get him someplace where they could both be fully naked. Speed won out. Her first go round had been a quickie so his would be, too. She immediately took him in as deep as she could, sucking as hard as she could. She heard the indrawn hiss of his breath and grabbed onto his thighs for support. Even through the rough denim of his jeans, she could feel that the muscles in his legs were rock solid.

Doggett slid one hand down to her hair, keeping the other braced on the roof of the truck. He hadn't really meant for her to do this here, he'd been teasing her, but when it became apparent she was as desperate for him as he was for her, sheer horniness had won out over common sense. He began moving his hips in counterpoint to the action of her mouth and in just a few minutes jerked and spasmed into her.

When Doggett stopped seeing stars, he zipped up and climbed into the truck. He drew Monica to him for another long kiss then said, "Let's get out of here. I know a nice place where we can watch the submarine races."

Pendrell drove faster than was legal or safe on his way to the motel. When he'd seen Dana and Monica walk into the bar an hour earlier, he'd assumed that Mulder and Doggett would get lucky that night but that he was in for another evening of cold showers. After all, Missy wasn't a bureau employee and, in any case, she was pregnant. He'd started the conversation with Dana more as a way of hearing Missy's name than in hopes of being offered an opportunity to spend the night with her.

Pendrell sometimes still had difficulty believing he was married to a babe like Missy who did have - as her sister had mentioned - quite large breasts, especially when she was pregnant or nursing. Also, as he would have pointed out more forcefully if it wouldn't have been out-of-character for the role he was playing back in the bar, Missy was *not* a ditz. She simply wasn't career-oriented. All she'd ever wanted to do with her life was be a full-time wife and mother and that was something she excelled at.

Melissa Pendrell jumped up from the bed as soon as her husband entered the room. He got as far as, "Hi, Mis," in his greeting to her before she cut him off with a kiss. Immediately deciding that this was a far better use of his mouth than talking, he proceeded to kiss her back, deeply and wetly.

When they finally came up for air, Missy nuzzled his neck and then said, "Yuck, Sean, you smell like smoke. Want to go wash off?"

Pendrell chuckled. "Missy, that is the lamest excuse for getting me naked and in the shower with you that I have *ever* heard."

"We don't have to take a shower. The bed is fine," Missy murmured.

"I didn't say no, gorgeous. I know you like us showering together. We'll go do that first. But we're going to move to the bed for the main event; showers are slippery and I'm not going to risk a fall while you're pregnant."


Pendrell managed to negotiate the few steps to the motel's bathroom with Missy clinging to him, then proceeded to strip off his clothes as quickly as possible.

Missy's eyes went wide and she said, "Wow, Sean. You're all bulked up. You look. . .wow!"

He kissed her again and pulled off the nightgown that was the only thing she was wearing and helped her into the shower. He slid his hand down her wet, swollen belly and between her legs.

"I'm still amazed that I can do this to you," he murmured.

"Which one? Make me pregnant or make me horny?"

"Either. Both. They're kind of interconnected."

"Sean, I've missed you so much. Maybe we can take a longer shower together later. Right now I just need you inside me. Can we move to the bed now, please?"

Pendrell smiled softly. A beautiful, naked woman - one he happened to be wildly in love with - pregnant with his baby and begging him to make love to her. Life didn't get any better than this.

They took things pretty quickly, Pendrell keeping his weight balanced firmly on his hands and knees while he entered her. Missy moaned and climaxed almost as soon her husband had penetrated her.

"That was fast. You must have really missed me," Pendrell murmured.

"I love you. So much," Missy managed to grasp out between pants.

"I. Love. You. Too. Missy," Pendrell said, thrusting into between each word. He came on her name. As soon as they'd both stopped quivering, Pendrell pulled out, kissed her gently one last time and fell into a deep, contented sleep.

Mulder drove quickly toward the trailer that had been his "home" for the past month. "The place is kind of a mess," he explained to Scully. "It's just been us four guys staying there and Pendrell and Skinner are neat freaks by nature, but Doggett and I aren't. If I'd known you were coming, I would have picked up a little and put clean sheets on my bed, but"

"Mulder, this place does *have* a bed, right? Or at least some sort of reasonably clean horizontal surface?"

"Well, sure, Scully, but,"

"Then it will do just fine for the purposes I have in mind."

"Why, Agent Scully! I do believe you're horny," Mulder said with a grin.

"No, Mulder, I'm not. 'Horny' is what I was the entire year we worked the X-Files together. What I am now is about to go completely out of my mind with desire!! Is this the place? Good. Get me inside before we put on a show for the neighbors!"

Mulder chuckled and pulled her into the trailer, locking the door behind them. He'd never seen Scully behave in public the way she had tonight; she'd been all over him in the bar. It wasn't that Scully wasn't affectionate - when they were at home, she was extremely loving and very physical - but she tended to be shy when they had an audience. He was intrigued by this heretofore hidden aspect of her personality.

Scully groaned as she caressed Mulder's biceps. "You're bigger, Mulder."

"I'm huge, Scully. Also hard as a rock. What do you think we should do about it?"

"I was talking about your arms but," she let one hand drift down to his jeans, where she gave a little squeeze to the bulge directly behind his zipper, "yeah, that's huge, too. Take me to bed!"

Mulder lifted her and carried her to the single bed in the room he'd been sharing with Pendrell. He kicked the bedroom door shut, just in case the Doggetts came 'home' sometime that night. "Want to undress me?" Mulder asked.

"I think it will be quicker if we just each take our own clothes off," Scully said. Even as she spoke, she was toeing off her shoes and yanking her T-shirt over her head.

"That bad, huh?" Mulder asked , his voice slighly muffled as he pulled his own shirt off.

"Worse," Scully groaned.

As soon as they were both naked, Scully pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him. This was their preferred position for lovemaking, although they certainly experimented with other positions on a regular basis. But she was so tiny, and this way he didn't have to worry about putting too much of his weight on her. Also he could grab her ass, suckle her breasts and look into her eyes, all while she was riding his cock.

They came quickly, both of them. When they were finished, Scully simply lay her head on her husband's sweat-dampened shoulder and murmured, "Don't pull out. I want to go to sleep just like this, with you still inside me."

"I love you," Mulder whispered, caressing her hair and back.

"I love you, too. I've missed you so much. So have the kids. I don't know how my mother stood it, being away from my father for months at a time."

Skinner wanted to burst through the door, but he entered quietly instead. He didn't want to startle Michelle if she was awake and if she were sleeping he definitely didn't - as much as he adored his infant daughter - want to wake her up.

Kimberly smiled softly as he opened the door. "She's sleeping," she whispered, nodding to the shadowy corner where a portable crib stood.

"Good," he murmured, as he lay down on the bed and kissed his wife. He was trying to go slow and be gentle, but she was having none of that.

"I don't know how much longer she'll sleep, Walt. Take off your clothes and get inside me."

He grinned, stood and stripped. She smiled. "Damn, Walt. There are men half your age who don't look half as good. You know that, don't you?"

"I still don't look good enough to look like I belong with a beauty like you, Kimberly. But c'mere and I'll show you how much I missed you."

A few minutes later, a squirming, surprised Kimberly gasped out, "Wow, you must have *really* missed me! I think that's the first time you've every come before I did." Normally Skinner had. . .well, whatever the opposite of premature ejaculation was. It wasn't unusual for an hour or more to elapse from the time he got an erection to the time it finally blossomed into an orgasm. Kimberly realized that a husband with that kind of stamina was something most women could only dream about, but there had been a few occasions - such as the first time they'd made love after she'd given birth - when she'd secretly wished that he had been just a little quicker.

"Your turn," he mumured, nuzzling her ear. "Want me to use my fingers?"

"No, I think if you just flip us and let me be on top for a minute or two, I'll climax. You haven't gone all the way back down yet."

Wrapping his arms tightly around his wife, he rolled over without sliding out of her. "Keep holding me like that," she gasped out, wiggling against him.

Three things happened almost simultaneously. Kimberly came with a low moan and ecstastic bounce, Michelle began to whimper and Skinner found himself with a face full of milk.

"Oops, sorry," Kimberly said with a smile.

"Don't be," Skinner replied, wiping his face with a corner of the sheet. "I'll go get her."

Skinner picked up Michelle, changed her diaper while cooing gently to her, then brought her to her mother. Kimberly arranged the three of them so that Michelle was at her breast and they were both cocooned safely in Skinner's strong arms.

"We are *so* glad to have our Daddy back," Kimberly whispered, kissing his cheek.

"I'm glad you're here, Kimberly. I wasn't sure you'd come, since you had to bring the baby."

"Dana tried to tell me I couldn't, at first; that only she and Monica were going. But I called Missy and we both made dire threats until they agreed we could come along."

Skinner smiled. "If I ever go undercover again, I'm taking you with me."

Monica woke up with a smile on her face. Okay, granted, she was sticky, sweaty and sleeping in a truck, but she was also in her husband's arms. They'd made love again - full out, this time - once they'd reached this secluded section of lakeshore. Suddenly, though, she bolted out of the truck and into the bushes lining the lake.

"Monica? What's wrong, baby?"

She gave him a weak smile as she climbed back into the truck. "You pretty much just answered your own question, John."


"Think about what you just said."

"All I did was ask you what was wrong."

"What did you say at the end of it?" she asked, lightly tracing her fingers along his jaw line.

"I said 'baby', which is what I always call you when. . ." he stammered to a stop. Almost a year ago, he and Monica had started trying for another child, after mutually deciding that their original agreement - that Luke would be their only offspring - wasn't enough for either of them. But John had begun to worry they'd left it too long; that the fact that he was past 40 and Monica was over 35 meant their chances for conception were low. "Baby?" he asked, bringing his hand down to her belly.

"Yeah. Baby."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I just found out about a week ago. I didn't want to discuss it over the phone. I meant to tell you last night, but I got," she paused to run her hand down his chest, "distracted."

"When do you think it happened?"

"Well, it could have been any time during the week right before you left but best guess. . .that day in the elevator at work."

"Anybody else know yet?"

"Of course not. I always tell you first."

"Let's wait and tell Luke together, once I get home. By the way, considering that most of our friends are here, who did you leave him with?"

"The Byers. You know how much he loves playing with Jill and Jackie, although he'd never admit it."

"Sean? Sean, wake up!"

"Missy? What is it?"

"The baby's moving! Here, you can feel her!" she placed her husband's hand on her belly, which was fluttering. Although she'd begun to feel movement the week before he'd left it had been too faint, then, for him to experience it.

"Her?" he asked with a sleepy smile on his face.

"Yeah. I had a sonogram last week. Another baby girl. You don't mind do you?"

"Mind? I love baby girls! You and Kathleen have me spoiled rotten already, though, you know. All that excitement every time I come home from work. . .you'd think I was a rock star, not an FBI science geek."

Pendrell dropped his mouth to the softly moving skin, then began blazing a trail downwards with his tongue . When he got to the top of her thighs, he followed the crease between her leg and hip 'til he was sucking softly at her core.

Missy squirmed and clenched her teeth. God, he was so good. She wanted to let go. . .moan and gasp and, pretty soon now, scream. Sean got a kick out of the sounds he caused her to produce when they made love. But they weren't at home, they were in a hotel room and she didn't want to alert the whole place to what they were doing.

Pendrell paused to look at the results of his endeavors. Missy was flushed and panting, her generous breasts were peaked and her hair was in wild dissaray. "Sean, don't stop!" she begged, nearly in tears.

How could he possibly refuse this angel anything? Pendrell thought. He quickly dove back down between her legs. In just a few more minutes, she stiffened, then began to pulsate. She turned her head into a pillow and bit down on it to keep from making any more noise.

"I think I'm going to talk with a lisp for the rest of the week," Pendrell whispered in her ear when when she'd finally stopped throbbing and he he'd crawled back up her body.

Missy wiggled a bit and lifted her legs so that he could enter her. Pendrell realized he was slightly unusual in that he'd rather give oral sex than receive it. Missy liked it, and he liked doing it to her, and it wasn't as if he exactly objected when she occasionally wanted to return the favor. But what he really liked was, to be blunt about it, fucking her. He set up a slow, easy pace, careful to be gentle since she was pregnant.

Scully woke up to a gentle rocking motion and the most wonderful sensation of fullness and warmth. It took her a moment to realize that her husband was still in her, he was back up and that, half-awake, he'd begun to make love to her again.

"mmmMulder," she purred, turning the sleepy murmur into his name.

"This okay, darling?"

"It's more than okay. It's fantastic. Why don't you ever wake me up like this at home?"

"We usually have company early in the morning in our bed at home," he answered, referring to the fact that one or both of their children usually joined them in the pre-dawn hours .

"That's true but. . .oh, God, Fox! Yeah, like that."

Mulder grinned, lifting her chin up slightly so that he could look at her face. She was such a picture of tousled, sexy, loving warmth. If all those idiot agents who'd given her that stupid, hateful nickname could see the so-called Ice Queen now. . .but, no; this sight was for his eyes only.

For a morning erection - not generally known for their staying power - he was able to keep going for quite a while, until they experienced a mutual climax. After a few minutes of afterglow cuddling, Scully said, "I've got to use the bathroom. Where is it?"

"It's the door between the kitchen and living room. But remember, Scully, this place has been home to four men for the past month and we weren't expecting company."

"Are the germs visible to the naked eye, Mulder?"

"Not quite, but. . .let me go in first and make sure that it's semi-okay." He darted quickly into the bathroom, put the toilet seat down and wiped the area around the sink, as well as kicking all the towels into one pile.

"You're sweet, Mulder," Scully murmured as she went in.

Mulder and Scully chose to share a shower and after they'd finished that and dressed, they made breakfast. They were just sitting down when the Doggetts showed up.

"Hey," Scully said, smiling at the other couple. "You two want something to eat?"

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," Monica answered.

"Baby, you ought to," Doggettt began, but Monica silenced him with slight shake of her head.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," Monica said. "Then we really need to hit the road, Dana."

Scully nodded. She didn't want to leave her husband, but hanging around the trailer all day might lead anyone observing it to assume she and Monica were more than just casual sex partners the men had picked up for the night.

Skinner grinned as he watched Kimberly dressing Michelle for the day. Remembering something else he needed to do, he pulled a computer disk out of his jacket pocket.

"This is the reason all of you came up here," he said, lifting it for Kimberly to see, then slipping it inside their daughter's diaper bag.

"More like 'alleged' reason," Kimberly murmured. "I had ulterior motives."

The four women had an entire day of driving ahead of them, so they left early. Also, except for Kimberly, they all had children waiting at home for them.

"You know, Dana, we're really going to owe Mom big time after this weekend," Missy said. "Watching three children under the age of five - two of them in diapers - couldn't be easy on a woman her age."

Kimberly made a sound halfway between a giggle and a snort. "Good heavens, simply having one baby keeps me busy. I would think watching three children under the age of five wouldn't be easy on *anyone* no matter what their age!"

"I know," Scully agreed. "But when I called to ask her to watch my two, she pretty much said she wouldn't watch Emily and William so I could spend the weekend with Mulder unless she was watching Kathleen, too, so Missy could spend the weekend with Pendrell."

"Hey, was Sean surprised when you told him you were pregnant this time around?" Kimberly asked Missy. "I mean, there's not even going to be two years between this baby and Kathleen, right?"

"Right," Missy replied. "This baby is due exactly one month before Kathleen turns two. As far him being surprised. . .a bit, I suppose, but just because it took us a while with Kathleen. He's thrilled, though. We both want a big family."

"Fox was sure surprised when I told him I was pregnant with Emily," Scully said with a smile. "She was born nine months to the day after our wedding. Best we can figure, we conceived about six hours after we said 'I do'. We both wanted kids and since I was already over 30 we deliberately didn't use any type of birth control, but we assumed it would take a couple of months, at least. Was Walt surprised when you told him you were pregnant with Michelle?"

"Not really. I got pregnant about eight months after we got married which, considering Walt's age, is about how long we were expecting it to take. He's so funny about her, though. As he's pointed out more than once, he's a first-time father at an age when most men have kids in college!"

"Hey, Monica, you're not contributing much to this conversation," Missy said. "What did John say when you told him you were pregnant?"

Monica smiled. She hadn't planned on sharing her news with her friends quite this early, but this opportunity was too good too pass up. "Which time?" she asked.

The End

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