Hey, hey! This would be Belle, co-owner of the FoxIsFoxy label and thus co-writer of this story, My partner in crime, Alli, shall be joining us soon. She actually wrote this first chapter so kudos to her! I wub you, twinnie-babe! Anyway, we hope you enjoy the story. Please r/r, second chap will hopefully be up soon, depending on work/school commitments.
Disclaimer: Apology is policy. Deny everything. We own Mulder. And possibly the whipped cream.
Summary:
It's
early December 2006. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully have been together
for over four years, and have two daughters. Melissa is four and at
school, and Samantha is a little over a year. William, sadly,
disappeared mysteriously not long before Melissa was born. Mulder
suspects alien involvement … both were devastated to lose the
little boy, but they've moved on with their daughters as a family,
and are now preparing for the first Christmas where both girls are
old enough to really enjoy it.
Chapter One
"Fox!"
Dana Scully called upstairs. "Is Missy ready for school yet?"
"Uh,
not exactly …" Her long-term partner, and love of her life, Fox
Mulder, appeared at the top of the stairs in their old Victorian
manor house. His face was covered in soapy bubbles, giving him the
odd look of a bad Santa Claus impersonator. Dana looked up at him,
one eyebrow raised, and tried her very hardest not to
laugh.
"Christmas isn't for three weeks – we still have time
to work on the costume."
"Well, I was trying to give her a
bath, and …"
"And you ended up wearing the foam," she
finished for him. "She's got you wrapped around her finger,
doesn't she?"
"I can't help it – she gets it from
her mother," Fox retaliated, grabbing the dishtowel from her hands
and wiping his face clean. He then smiled lovingly at his partner,
his face nice and smooth again, and she laughed. She grabbed the
towel back from him and brushed a small blob of froth from the tip of
his nose, causing him to scrunch up his face.
"Good as new,"
she told him. He leant down and brushed his lips against hers for a
few moments, taking full advantage of the few seconds of peace they
had – a rare occurrence, with a four-year-old and a one-year-old
running around. Dana smiled at him.
"Right, you go get Sammie
up, and I'll get Missy dressed for school!"
"I owe you,"
Fox called after her as she hurried upstairs. In response, he was met
with the crumpled up dishtowel landing on his head, and a stifled
laugh from above. He rolled his eyes and went into the living room,
where his youngest daughter lay in her cot, sleeping like an
angel.
"Hey, little Sammie Alli," he murmured, loath to disturb her rest. He lifted her ever so gently from her crib, shushing her softly as he rocked her in his arms. At thirteen months, she already reminded him forcefully of her namesake – his sister Samantha, the girl he had spent most of his adult life pursuing. Well, her and Dana, anyway. Her middle name Alison, came from Dana's childhood. In between playing guns and wrestling with her brothers, she had come to the decision her children were going to be Alison and Belle – hence the middle name of their other daughter, Melissa. She couldn't have anticipated losing her sister the way she had – or falling for Fox, whose own sister had been taken from him when he was so young. It had seemed only fitting to name their two daughters after their loved ones who would have loved to know their nieces. Fox cradled his daughter in his arms, watching, mesmerized, as her eyes, hidden behind long, perfectly curved eyelashes, flickered open. They sparkled green like emeralds – exactly like her aunt's had done, Fox thought. She gargled, and then smiled in that adorable way only a baby could. His own smile spread wide as he swung her around in the air, blowing raspberries so he could listen to her laugh. It was like wind chimes, he thought – this amazing, little-person's laugh. He remembered when Missy was born, thinking he could never love another child this much. Now he realised it wasn't about one child over the other – it was his children over him. Every time, it was his children over him.
"Missy, we need to put the shoes on so we
can go to school," Dana explained patiently to her eldest daughter,
who remained insistent that she could go to school in her skirt,
white ankle socks, and her dad's old sweatshirt, big enough to
suffocate her.
"I don't want shoes!" Missy huffed. Dana
just laughed and hauled Fox's overlarge Oxford sweater over her
daughter's head, and held out the shoes for her to put on.
"Go
on, then," she said. "You put them on. Show Mommy what a big girl
you are." And as she had known it would be, the challenge of being
grown up was too great for Missy to resist. Her temper tantrum
abandoned, she plonked herself down on the floor and happily began
doing up the buckles on her patent leather shoes. Dana rocked back on
her heels, reaching behind her for the now-creased white blouse, and
gave it a shake.
"Mommy?" Missy asked as she fumbled with her
clasps. "I had a dream last night."
"Really, what was it
about?" Dana asked, helping her fasten up her blouse and smoothing
down her flaming red hair gently. Missy stood straight while her
mother adjusted her skirt around her waist and helped her on with her
blazer, preparing her to face the world.
"William."
If
Missy had announced she had dreamt about the Vietnam War, it couldn't
have come as more of a shock to her mother. Dana froze in her tracks
and stared at her eldest daughter, dumbfounded. The child, however,
turned and admired herself in the mirror.
"William?" Dana
repeated, finally finding her voice as she clambered to her
feet.
"Yes." This didn't seem to be a topic that Missy found
even the slightest bit odd, or confusing. "He was playing on the
swings with me. He said he was looking after me."
"And, uh …
who did William say he was, Missy?" Dana asked, struggling to keep
her cool.
"My guardian angel."
With a grin, Missy
turned and skipped away downstairs, calling for her daddy. Dana stood
there for a moment, still not sure how best to react. Missy was far
too young to know the truth, she knew that much for sure. But how
could she explain these dreams? Could she really explain them at all?
She grabbed her coat from Missy's bed and followed her downstairs,
to where Fox was standing holding the door open for her. Their eldest
daughter was already in the car, amusing herself by rolling the
windows up and down incessantly, and their youngest was dozing quite
happily in her father's arms.
"Scully," Fox said, startling
her. "Are you all right? You look pale."
"Uh …" She
struggled to find the words. "Mulder, I think we may have a
situation."
They walked out to the car together, and Dana
dutifully waited until Sammie was settled into her car seat. Fox
closed over the car door after her and stood in front of his partner
beside the passenger door, waiting for her to explain. She lowered
her voice.
"Mulder … Missy's been asking me questions;
having dreams."
"She's four years old, Scully, it's normal
for her to have questions and dreams."
"Is it normal for her
to dream about William?" Fox stopped still and stared at her.
"She
dreamt about William?" he asked Dana, who nodded wearily. She
sighed.
"Mulder, what if … what if it's like all those
dreams you used to tell me about? When you used to see Samantha; when
you were convinced she was still alive?"
"Samantha was still
alive at the time I had those dreams, Scully," he reminded
her.
"Exactly. I'm beginning to think you may have been right
all along, Mulder," Dana said, admitting it for the first time not
only to her lover but to herself. "What if there were … aliens,
involved? What if William's still alive?"
