Title: Day of Magic
Author: Jacquie LaVa
Category: MSR, Post-Ep
Disclaimers: CC, didja forget a few scenes in that season finale, babe? No? Well, guess these agents are mine, then - I'll let you keep the originals.
Archive: Sure - just let me know where so I can visit from time to time -
Feedback: Oh, you bet! I'd love to hear from you!

Summary: Okay, I just couldn't do it! I could not do sad Even though the finale was overall a sad thing... I couldn't do it So I ended up putting my own little twist on the ep -

Thanks TO: My awesome writing partner/Sis Tbishop, for her enthusiasm and unflagging support of my fic-ranting, and Jess Mabe for her willingness to read it with a smile on her face...

The roses were the softest shade of lavender-blue; true sterling - probably the most perfect dozen she'd ever seen, cunningly fashioned into a heart-shaped bouquet with blush statis and baby's breath filling in and around the velvety petals. She couldn't help but look at them through misty eyes. So lovely... it had been a very long time since she'd seen anything so lovely.

And her dress; she felt like a queen in it. What a beautiful dress - everybody thought so. Something she would have never chosen for herself - but oh, it was just right for her. Creamy lace and silky chiffon, in the merest touch of lavender - so pale it looked white, but it wasn't white; not for her - not white. She made a mental note to thank the person who'd picked it out; who had instructed that she be dressed in such a stunning gown.

They'd remembered her pearl earrings... she could feel them. Tiny little dangling things; in this position they drooped down the side of her ears and brushed against her lobes. She just knew they went with the dress so well; wished she had a mirror so she could see. Well, she had the mirror of her mind, she supposed; and in that mirror she was breathtaking. She just knew it.

But her shoes - those delicate strappy heels she'd been saving for a special occasion... why, she wasn't wearing them! She wondered who would bother to dress her in such finery, adorn her with perfect sterling roses and then forget to slap on her shoes. How odd... especially on this day; this very significant day... no shoes. Well, someone had been very neglectful...

But the dress, and the roses... and the earrings. All wonderful touches, all familiar to her, even though the dress was new, and the roses lavender-blue... and the pearls were really very old; a legacy from her grandmother. All there, all accounted for -

Except the borrowed... what was borrowed? She racked her memory for it; something had to be borrowed, didn't it? This was, after all, her wedding day...

Wasn't it?

She thought back to the beginning of the month; the past two weeks which was as recent in time as she could recall. She had been driving, even though her doctor had told her not to drive. Well, she knew her own body much better than he did - and besides, what on earth could happen to her in a car, for God's sake? She needed to run errands, and there was no one around to help her. Of course that had been her fault; she'd been so bitchy lately that even her mother had turned tail and run. Well, she couldn't help it, dammit! She was miserable. Lonely and bored out of her mind; not allowed access to her office, and her daily dose of mind-numbing work - she'd read every book on her bookshelf and had watched enough reruns of "Picket Fences" to want to bomb Sheriff Brock's house. Bored, bored, bored... and she was out of vitamins. And calcium tablets. Never mind that all she had to do was pick up the phone and someone from the pharmacy would deliver whatever she needed... that wasn't the point. She wanted out. Needed out - before she went insane from it all - and so she got up and got dressed and out the door she flew. The sun was out and a light, cold breeze was blowing and it felt good - albeit damned chilly - upon her face. She hummed off-tune as she drove, looking all around her at the trees just starting to bud a little and the new, sharply bright look of a very early spring day. Wonderful - rejuvinating, she told herself. Maybe she'd stop by the hospital early; see if the test results were in... smiling at the thought of checking up on him.

She never saw the big truck barreling down on her.

Somebody carefully arranged the filmy veil around her face, murmuring softly that they had never seen her look more lovely, and serene. A veil... she had always thought wedding veils were the very epitome of womanly delicacy - when worn upon a proud head, floating around her shoulders as she took those measured steps down the aisle; her father's arm holding her steady and sure - each footpace taking her to destiny, all wrapped up in a formal suit and a tender smile, just for her. Yes, the gown would be a dream, and the flowers sheer perfection... but the veil was the crowning glory. She hoped the one adorning her head was as impressive as the ones in her girlish dreams. There it was; that whisper again - another murmur of how nice she looked. Indignant irritation set in, dispelling her good humor. It was her frigging wedding day; of course she'd be looking nice! Hell, she figured she'd be looking fucking amazing, considering the importance of the occasion.

Wouldn't she?

The truck loomed enormous and frighteningly real in her peripheral vision; it was black and silver and dirty from miles and days on the road. Maybe the driver had been tired out; maybe he'd never seen her, small and pale in her little car, driving down a busy street in the mid- day brightness of early spring. Whether or not he saw her was, she supposed, a moot point - because he hit her anyway. On the driver's side, toward the back wheel. He'd been zipping along a bit fast for city driving, and the sound he made when he collided with her car... well, it was awful. It echoed in her head long after he'd hit her; long after she'd been pulled from the destroyed vehicle. The numbness of her body was probably a blessing for she couldn't feel a thing; as they took her from the twisted wreck of her beloved car - she'd always loved that car - and laid her gently on a stretcher, and began some sort of CPR and resuscitation. She could feel them pry open her mouth and attach a respirator; through the icy wall of trauma and shock she heard a man say, "Looks to be about eight months along, Jesus - "

Oh, yes... the baby. Her baby. She was too numb to let the flood of hot tears release from her tight, aching throat. William... her baby boy. Of course she knew she was having a little boy. She'd known for months. Everything in his little nursery was pale yellow and blue, with touches of bright red. She had picked out the sweetest tiny clothes for him - sturdy little rompers and cute little henleys and the neatest booties, cunningly knitted to look like sneakers. They all hung on baby-sized hangers in his little closet, back in her apartment. And she had even bought him a fat piggy bank, hand-painted in bright primary colors. A fat little oinker made of ceramic; she'd had one as a child. All children should have a fat ceramic piggy bank, she thought - and n now William had one.

She dreamed of her baby all the way to the emergency room; thinking how sweet he would look, after the newborn redness of his newborn skin toned down into perfect baby pink; how those infant gray eyes would even out into the most lovely hazel - just like his daddy's... his daddy. The daddy he might never get to see - and she'd had such high hopes, knowing that her baby's father would somehow be there for all the magical times of childhood, even if only in her heart and in her memory. She needed so much more than just a memory. All the way to the emergency room she hoped that when she got there, he'd be waiting for her. Somehow he'd know... somehow he'd get to her; be there. Silly wishes... for he couldn't get out of his bed and come to her any easier than she could find her way to him. But she hoped for it, anyway -

He wasn't down in the emergency room.

During the endless slaving over her battered body, trying to save her - save the baby - she took tender refuge in the recollection of a past where she was the happiest she had ever been in her life. She remembered smiling almost every day, even laughing out loud. And the teasing -! Why, she'd actually teased, and flirted. It had been so very long since she'd felt the urge to just be a girl again, instead of a mature, sober woman. Little by little the stark black of her wardrobe had been softened by white and pale blue shirts; she'd begun to let her hair grow out again. Even the cases, and the stupid paperwork, and the awful motel rooms hadn't seemed all that bad anymore. Everything was better, had been getting so much better - since the night she'd finally let herself get close to the man she loved. After that night it only got better and better. Kisses and soft touches; lingering looks and stolen intimacy in the most inopportune places... and she felt like a teenager again. She ran full- steam-ahead down that whirlwind street, never really thinking too far into the future -

Until the day she lost him. In some awful way it would have almost been better if she'd not known the full measure of his capacity for passion and desire, these last few months; never known the incredible feel of his skin against hers. Never felt those lips of his, on every shivering inch of her; long-fingered hands wreaking havoc deep within her body... only to be replaced by the strength and heat of him, marking her as his alone. But she did know all of these marvelous things... and she had just begun to understand her own response to them, when he was taken. Before she could tell him of the miracle he'd left her - before he could know all of it, he was gone. And she could do nothing but continue on with her life; trying to keep him alive and real within her heart until the day he would be returned to her. She never doubted he would be returned to her - he had to come back. She needed him... William needed him.

She was getting cold.

She tried actually saying the words, but nobody seemed to hear her; they were too concerned with all the primping and adjusting to her clothes, and her hair must look just so and her veil must be properly draped; weddings tended to bring the anal-retentive in even the most slovenly of people, it would seem. She sighed and let them have at it. If she had to suffer a chill or two for beauty, she supposed it was worth it. This was her magical day; she had been waiting a long time for it - she could endure a few goose bumps. She relaxed against the pillow - at least it felt as if she relaxed. Above the strange roaring in her head she still felt numb, but in her mind she was very relaxed. Well, as relaxed as possible, considering she was in the middle of giving birth...

Or was that yesterday? Maybe yesterday... or several days before that... Yes, of course she had already given birth! What was she thinking? Just because she ached all over and couldn't move - that didn't mean she was still giving birth! Good grief, how silly...

"NOT YET, Dana! Don't push yet! Wait for it, wait... not yet... okay, NOW! PUSH - push hard, Dana! One, two, three..." The voice floated above her ears somewhere; and she was tired, so tired of pushing. She ached all over, was covered in bruises - and her broken leg was killing her. A broken leg... she had been very lucky. Well, two broken ribs; she'd almost forgotten about them until she tried to take a deep breath. They were killing her, especially whenever she had to bear down. She was on mega-painkillers, though; hence the odd floating sensation. Enough to keep her relatively pain-free, but not enough to dull her giving-birth capabilities. Little William wanted out in a big way. Not even born yet and already demanding his way - to come out. It wasn't his time yet, but he would not be denied. The accident had perhaps jostled him awake, and now he was ready to face the world. She felt a burning sensation - they'd snipped her, to ease the way for William's big head. Big, like his daddy... she had teased him about it right after she'd bought him that silly hat and it had not fit.

"So, you're saying I've got a big head, Scully?" She had grinned up at him as he hovered over her, pressing her down into the soft mattress. She'd reached out a lazy hand and one finger had traced a circle around his head at forehead level, then she'd ruffled her hand through his thick hair, and had tugged his head down so she could kiss his mouth. She nipped at it first, catching his lush bottom lip between her teeth and then soothing the tiny bite with her tongue before she was devoured whole by him, his mouth taking her over and his body laying siege as well. She twined herself around him and hung on tightly as he slipped inside and burrowed his way deep, headed straight for her heart... she held his big, beautiful head close to her as they moved against each other...

Hours after the accident, she lay in her hospital bed attached to tubes and various wires and IVs filled with fluid cocktails. Trying not to panic; they had told her she was going to be fine, as well as the baby - as long as she behaved and stayed in bed and above all did not panic. Jesus, that's all she had left in her life at the moment... the panic. Panic over the possible damage she could have done to her unborn child. Panic that she would give birth too soon and not be able to take care of her child right away because of her injuries.

Panic that the father of her baby would not regain himself, and his life, any time soon - in time to know his child was being born just a floor down from HIS hospital room. For as she'd lain very still in her bed, with IVs and other dripping tubes everywhere... her water had broke, and she'd gone into labor.

"Oh, just great! NURSE!" She screamed it at the top of her lungs, which meant it came out as a raw squawking croak, because her throat was so sore. Luckily a nurse was right outside her door; came running in and sized up the situation in just under three seconds. Before she knew it, her doctors were everywhere and one of the nurses held her hand and soothed the hair from her hot brow, as she cried for Mulder with each new contraction. And the most frightening feeling of all was the worry that she might not make it through the delivery; her body was still damaged, and William was almost a month early. God, how she wanted Mulder; wanted to go to him, to crawl into his hospital bed one floor up, and curl herself into his shivering back and offer him the same kind of warmth that he'd provided for her, just days before he was abducted... maybe if she'd been able to do just that, little Will would have been lulled by the calming presence of his father, and would not have wanted to come out quite so soon...

Then again, maybe not.

"AGAIN, PUSH! THAT's IT, DON'T STOP, COME ON, PUSH!!" Damn doctor's voice was beginning to piss her off; she was so whipped, and he wouldn't stop nagging her. Just to spite him and to shut him up, she gathered up her waning strength and managed one more huge push, screaming from a throat already made raw from previous screaming. She felt the head slip out, then the shoulders and the rest of the tiny frame. She collapsed against sweat-soaked pillows and burst into tears of relief and residual pain, watching through blurred eyes as her tiny son was wiped off and cleared of mucus and laid upon her chest. She was too weak to bring her hand up to touch him, hold him; she cried in frustration -

And felt someone lift her hand, placing it over the tiny naked backside of William Charles Mulder. Through teary eyes she registered the exhausted, pain-filled, but smiling face of Mulder; he leaned over her and their child and pressed tender kisses over her mouth and cheeks, whispering to her, "All this, for me? Aww, Scully... you know what I like..."

Her responding smile was brilliant, if a bit shaky; she kissed him back and her raspy retort was meant to put him in his place.

"Mulder, you shouldn't be out of bed, you're not well enough to be up. I can't believe this; who'd you bribe this time? -" He pressed two fingers over her scolding mouth, and shushed her with another kiss.

"Scully, get real - you think I would miss this? Besides, all your yelling and cursing woke me up."

"I do not curse, Mulder..." He grinned in utter disbelief and kissed her again, then stroked a big, tender hand down his son's sticky back.

"Sure, fine, whatever, Scully - now how about letting the nice nurses have Willy, and we can get you back to your room and into some nice warm pajamas and then after you get some sleep, we can talk about the wedding..."

"Mulder, neither of us are in any condition to get married! Your body is an exhausted mess; you're still recuperating from your abduction ordeal. I am so loaded up with dope that I can barely feel my own tongue. I can't even sit up; my ribs are taped and I look like Death danced a goddamn jig on my face." She was getting teary again; stupid hormones. Mulder squeezed her hand, scooting as close as he could in the wheelchair. The awful part of it all was that she really couldn't abide not being married to her baby's father - now that their child had been born. But God, they thought they'd had plenty of time! After Mulder had been returned, and then hospitalized... she still had over a month to go. Plenty of time to plan a very small wedding and get the deed done, before William made his grand entrance into the big, wide world. But now everything had changed... and her stupid Catholic soul suddenly couldn't handle being an unwed mother, even for a day. She was so pathetic... Mulder leaned in and whispered in her sore ear.

"Scully, if I promise to stay in bed for the entire ceremony; have the docs set up twin wedding beds, side by side... Me in one, and you in the other... will you marry me in three days? I'll get your mom to bring you a dress and all the traditional bride stuff. Besides, Charlie is already in town." Scully sighed, wondering if she would ever get her way in this relationship.

"Okay, okay... what a nag! I'll do it - but don't get any bright ideas, and think you're gonna be sitting up for any part of this ceremony. If I have to stay flat on my back then so do you. Get Mom in here - drag her away from the nursery if you have to. I need to have her make a list of things we'll need..."

"Do you, Fox, take thee Dana into thine heart and life and promise to love and cherish her until Death comes between thee?"

Mulder reached for her hand and held it tightly as he repeated his vow. Through a curtain of tears Scully held onto his vow and his promise, focused so tightly upon him that she scarcely noticed the soft crying of her mother. What a wussy, she thought affectionately, as she gazed upon the picture they made, her mother and William, both dressed in pale blue, William fast asleep in his grandmom's arms. Through teary eyes she glanced up at her brother Charlie, standing behind their mother's chair, one slender finger stroking William's downy head. Next to him, her brother Bill... trying to look stern and disapproving, and failing big-time. Mostly he just looked overwhelmed by it all. She bit back a laugh and turned her head just a little more to the other side... and took in the incongruous sight of the faithful Gunmen, each dressed in their own peculiar version of a tuxedo. She didn't dare laugh; her ribs were killing her. Besides, all the pain medication flowing into her system from the goddamn IV was making her woozy as hell...

"Ahem... Dana? It's your turn to repeat the vows..." The minister's gentle voice overrode her wandering thoughts, and she blushed a hot pink, causing everyone to laugh. Mulder had the largest grin on his face she had ever seen. She fluttered her lashes at him in sleepy promise, and turned her attention to the minister.

Above the murmurs of family and friends who adjusted her veil and helped to hold her bouquet in place and tried not to chuckle anew when the heavy medication she was using for her pain made her as limp as an overcooked noodle... Scully promised her soon-to-be husband she'd return his love a thousand times over...

Then she sent several fervent prayers heavenward in thanks that this was, indeed - her wedding day.


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