Author's Notes: In this storyI went with the actual TV timeline, not Mr. Carter's "interesting" timeline. I also kinda messed around with what they could and couldn't know at the time this takes place, so don't have a conniption if you realize that M&S seem to know things that hadn't taken place yet in the show when I diverge here—artistic license, you know.

The idea for this came from all the conjuncture on how William came to exist.

Spoilers: Pilot, Existence

Summary: A/U: the Smoking Man's fondest wish comes true, but does he gloat too much too soon?

Special thanks to Alia Whipple
for her time and patience working with me on this; she provided invaluable assistance on the science parts,
which I simply could not do without her. Much of the time travel discussion is her exact words from suggestions that I worked into the dialog.

The Invasion
Rated R
By Suzanne L. Feld
with Alia Whipple

Preface - May 1994

It was a conversation had around the world hundreds, perhaps thousands, of times a day, every day of the year. The only thing different about each was the outcome:

"I don't know how else to tell you this so I'm going to just blurt it out. I'm pregnant."

"Shit… are you sure?"

"As I can be. About five weeks. I began with the morning sickness a few days ago and went right in to be tested."

"I had, ah, assumed you were on the Pill since you didn't mention protection."

"I am—was. But I hadn't had… relations… with anyone in well over a year before you so it's possible I forgot to take them now and then. I want to make it clear that this is my fault, if we must assign blame, and I won't hold you responsible if you don't want to be."

"Who'd have thought it, from just once?"

"We both know enough about biology to know exactly what happened."

"I, ah, don't want you to take this the wrong way."

"Blurt it out like I did."

"I want to marry you."

"Wha—are you kidding me?!"

"This may seem sudden, or because of the pregnancy, but I haven't been able to forget about our… night together. I'm in love with you, whether or not we want me to be."

"Oh, God. Me too. I thought it was just me, or maybe the pregnancy hormones. Don't you want some time to think it over? This is very sudden, I know. Are you sure?"

"That I love you and want to marry you? Yes. Absolutely."

"One last time. It's going to be a big change from your—our—lifestyle as it is now."

"I don't need the out. I'm sure. If you ask me again I'll start thinking you're not interested in marrying me."

"Hmph. Might help if you actually asked me instead of just stating it."

"Will you marry me? Make a life and a home with me, have and raise our children with me?"

"Oh, God, I promised myself I wouldn't cry if this ever happened to me. Get up, yes, yes of course I will!"

"Now that's more like it."

December, 2012

The house was quiet but bright with winter sunshine when Mulder let himself in. He'd hoped to catch William and Dana at home, but the Prius was gone and the house too still to have an energetic, inquisitive young man around.

He found a note typed into the message screen on the fridge. "Went to do last-minute Christmas shopping, lunch in fridge if you want, call to meet us before noon if not. Love, D."

He knew they'd likely gone to the new Central MegaStore in Georgetown and there was no way he was going anywhere near there during the crazy season no matter how much he'd liked to have lunch with his wife and son. Especially since said son would be going back to school in a few weeks; although he honored his choice of UC Berkeley, Mulder couldn't help but wish the boy had chosen a closer college so they'd see him more than two or three times a year.

That had been on his mind a lot, he thought as he wandered through the house, touching things here and there. Though this was William's sophomore year, he was still adjusting to the fact that his son had moved out, was an adult and on his own. This gouge in the archway between living and dining room was where William had knocked over and broken Scully's favorite lamp at age ten, throwing a Frisbee for their dog Blockhead, now years dead. Though it had been painted over several times they'd never gotten around to filling that dent. It was just one of hundreds of memories of a young William running around the house, bright and active and curious since he could talk.

Mulder remembered the first time he'd held his son. Scully had gone into labor a week early while he'd been out on a field assignment shortly before his transfer to Quantico and though he'd rushed home, he'd missed the birth by a good six hours. He'd raced into Scully's room at the hospital and skidded to a halt to see her half-sitting on the side of her hospital bed, dressed in her own pajamas and robe and with her hair and makeup done, holding a bundle of blue and white blankets. While he was standing there dumbfounded she'd walked up to him with a huge smile, deposited the blankets in his arms, and announced, "Dad, meet your son William." Even now he grinned at the memory of how nervous, proud, awed, and delighted he'd been at the sight of the baby's quiet, wide-eyed face and faint weight in his arms.

He wondered how different he would feel about William being gone if they'd had other children. When he was three years old they'd begun trying for another child, but Dana had never quickened again so a few years ago he'd had a vasectomy once they'd agreed that they were getting too old to deal with an infant.

In the living room he stopped and gazed at the live Christmas tree, plain green and standing tall and thick above its large tub wrapped in burlap and surrounded by a heavy plastic tarp. Dana insisted on not decorating it until the night before Christmas even though William had figured out at age four that there was no such thing as Santa Claus. Still, it was a family tradition to decorate it on Xmas eve after midnight mass, which she also still insisted on attending. The decorated tree stayed up for nearly two weeks, another tradition he didn't dare contest.

He turned and was about to head for the kitchen and the aforementioned lunch when a knock came from the front door and he changed course again. Though the large glass windows on either side, which had their curtains thrown wide, he saw that it was Edward McAlpin, their neighbor across the street. He was bundled in a heavy green parka and scarf, but no gloves or hat. "Ed, what can I do you for?" Mulder asked as he opened the door. "Come on in."

"Thanks, but I only have a moment. Have you heard anything… unusual?" the balding, heavyset man asked hesitantly. "I know this may seem strange, but we've been hearing some rumblings at the ATF about strange activities from SETI and NASA but nothing concrete. You heard anything at the FBI?"

Mulder frowned. He had also heard some vague murmurings about something strange going on with the space programs but didn't put much faith in them. "Yeah, I've heard some unusual rumors but I think it's more because the election is next year," he said thoughtfully. "But I guess it doesn't hurt to keep your ear to the ground, does it?"

"Nope," his neighbor agreed easily. "Well, you let me know if you hear anything concrete and I'll do the same," he said, rubbing his hands together and breathing out a plume of condensation. Though it hadn't snowed yet this year, it was cold enough for it. "Gotta go pick up Marita from band practice; Monica'll have my ass if I'm late again so I'd better get a move on. See you later."

Closing the door, Mulder crossed and rubbed his arms and headed upstairs for a sweater. The house was kept at an even 68 degrees no matter how cold it got, and some days he missed the old indulgence of turning up the heat whenever they felt like it. Still, with global warming as bad as it had become something had had to be done, and regulating energy did seem to be working even if it was somewhat inconvenient at times.

He had finished his brief lunch and was heading into the study for an afternoon's writing when he heard the back door open and turned around to intercept his wife and son as they came in. "Ah, there's my wayward family," he greeted them, taking two heavy cloth shopping bags from Dana and lifting them to the table. Even now he liked to impress her whenever he could; he was sure that between doing so and staying in good shape he got laid a lot more than most men his age. And he had no plans to change it. "Have fun fighting the crowds?"

"There weren't many; I think just about everyone's ordering online this year because the only lines we saw were in the pickup lanes," Dana said, turning her face up for a kiss as she took off her coat. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a form-fitting sweater and he eyed her figure appreciatively as she went to hang it up; right there was the reason he still wanted to bed her frequently after almost twenty years of marriage. He wasn't the only one who stayed in shape despite the fact that they both had more or less sedentary jobs these days.

"Holyshee, Dad, can you at least wait until I'm out of the room?" William said sotto voice as he went by with a pair of bags in his hands. "I know you're not used to me being here, but damn!"

"What are you two mumbling about over there?" Scully said as she walked back into the room, heading for the bags. "You know I hate that."

"Nothing, nothing," Mulder hastened to assure her as he began to unpack them. "I thought you were going Christmas shopping—this is all groceries."

"Yeah, well, with the Eating Machine in the house I had to get more food while we were out," she said with an affectionate smile for their tall son, who leaned a hip against the counter and grinned right back. He was clearly a mixture of the two of them; he had Mulder's height, nose, and lean physique, but her thick red hair, pale tending-to-freckles complexion—and Irish temper even if it didn't show outwardly. "The presents are in the car and don't you dare look."

"Don't worry, Mom, I'll be out of your hair soon enough," William said, reaching over and grabbing a bright yellow Granny Smith apple from the stack in an antique Fire King bowl on the counter. "I can stay until Christmas, but I've got to head back right after New Year's."

"You're sure that won't be a problem with your studies?" Mulder said, carrying an armload of soup cans to the pantry. "We're glad to have you here, but isn't—"

"I'm fine, Dad, no worries," the tall young man said, twirling the apple in his long fingers before selecting a spot to take a bite from. "I can work from here if I need to, but we're in a bit of a lull anyway."

"There are lulls in studying astronomy?" Dana turned to look at William. "And I thought you were going to get time on one of the big radio telescopes soon?"

"In the spring," he mumbled around a bite of apple. Mulder narrowed his eyes at him, but the younger man gazed back guilelessly with a half-smile, showing the faint dimple on the left side of his full-lipped mouth. Still, he knew his son well enough to realize that something was amiss here. He wondered if William had decided to change majors again; this was his third and really beginning to screw with his credit hours. "Look, I don't see what the problem is. If you want me to go back to Berkeley after turkey day I can, but I'm not turning around and coming back for Christmas."

"You had better not be hiding anything from us," Dana scolded as she dumped several bags of salad mix into the crisper.

"I think you'd better quit while you're ahead," Mulder advised his son. "So you going to help us here, or just stand there and watch?"

William opened his mouth but a meaningful look from his mother made him snap it shut, tossing the apple core into the food recycling bin before pushing away from the counter and going to lift and carry.

:::

"Something's up with him, something's not right," Scully said, resting the back of her head against her husband's chest. They were curled up on the floor at the base of the couch facing the flickering gas fireplace, sitting on and surrounded by a pile of big soft pillows. This was their favorite way to spend an evening, though even now with their single chick out of the nest they didn't get to do it as often as they'd have liked. William had gone to spend the night at a friend's house and with tomorrow being the weekend, they'd decided to indulge themselves.

Mulder turned to kiss the soft, thick hair over her ear. If he hadn't known she was a natural redhead, he thought, the few strands of grey now coming in among the waves of auburn would have been a dead giveaway. "Um-hmn, I noticed it too; he's keeping something from us," he agreed. "Any ideas?"

"I think he might be considering changing his major again," she said, taking a sip of her wine. "We're going to have to sit him down and have a talk with him if that's the case. First geosciences, then applied physics, now astronomy."

"At least he's moving in the right direction," Mulder cracked, unsurprised to find that she shared his thought from earlier. "Upwards."

"No, he's going nowhere fast, and we're wasting forty grand a year," she snapped back.

"Scully—ah, Dana—"

"Mul-der!" She turned to stare up at him. "Please tell me you're not going to start calling me that again."

"Sometimes I forget," he grumbled, embarrassed. They had agreed when they got married that he would call her by her first name from then on, which he had more or less done, but the book he was working on had gotten him back into old ways. And he didn't want to tell her about it because it was going to be a surprise. "I can't help it; I still tend to think of you by that name."

She shook her head, looking away, but he could see by the curve of her cheek that she was smiling. "We worked together for barely two years, Mulder."

He hugged her back against him. "You were my Scully."

"And I always will be."