This chapter contains sexually-explicit material.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX:

Mulder Manor
Los Angeles, California
November 2, 1986
Sunday

Magazines, baby books, and dailies were scattered at the foot of the king-sized bed. On the right bedside table were round-rimmed eyeglasses, a bound script for a new movie, and a cup of cooling tea. On the left bedside table were a smattering of prenatal pills, a glass of iced tea, a thinner script for a television series episode, and some medical pamphlets. In the middle of the dark bed, illuminated by only the meager sunlight peeking through the window drapes, Mulder caressed the delicate bump of his fiancée's stomach and reached further down below, where he could feel the thatch of red curls brushing against his fingertips.

He sighed when he placed his chin on her shoulder, breathing in her early morning scent that was made up of her new lavender-scented shampoo (the strawberry one she discarded months ago when it made her gag while taking a shower), her morning exhalations, and the whiff of their lovemaking from last night. Molding his front to her back so that his morning erection settled perfectly in between her plumper ass cheeks (and god, he loved how bigger they had gotten), he gently parted her legs, carefully inserting his thigh in between them so that he could gain access, and experimentally teased her slit with a finger.
Mulder watched as Scully's eyes fluttered, but she didn't seem to have completely woken up. Smiling to himself, he began to kiss the back of her neck and nip at the skin connecting her neck and shoulder. His lips left behind a trail of gooseflesh and she shivered beneath his wet kisses. When her legs parted on their own accord, he stroked her clit with his thumb and then inserted a finger inside of her. The heat welcomed him, while Mulder welcomed the complete hardening of his cock, and with a groan, he pumped his digit inside of her while trying to find a steady rhythm between his kisses on the back of her neck and rubbing his penis against her ass.

Jesus, she was so hot, he thought, as another finger joined the other inside her wet walls. So ready, just like that, for him; though he knew she was still wet from their extensive session from last night … however, he could also feel her juices lapping up his fingers and he reveled in the feeling.

Since making up a few months ago, Mulder couldn't get enough of Scully's body. It did take him some time to be convinced that he wasn't hurting her in any way when they had sex (and a quick, embarrassing trip to Dr. Parenti further convinced him of that), but once he was convinced, man, was he eager to go. There were times when Scully had to literally and firmly say no to him when he initiated anything sexual after chaste kisses-gone-south or simple pecks on the cheek in the kitchen during her may attempts to cook dinner. He didn't know where his lust was coming from; he deduced it was from the manly knowledge that she was carrying his child and it was okay to touch her, or maybe it was from the smoldering heat her body was generating. Mulder didn't care, actually – as long as she was there and he could make love to her at least three times a day (to which Scully sometimes capped at two … that's okay, he could make her come with his mouth), he was going to be fine. He couldn't even stand being apart from her. He had to cancel most of his out-of-town schedule for the next few months and if it was REALLY needed that he had to go out of town, Scully had to come with him. Sure, physically he needed her, but emotionally, there was no way was he going to let her out of his sight.

"Mhmmm …" Scully finally voiced out, reaching up instinctively to caress the arm that had a hand darting in and out of her sex. "Good morning, love … oh!" she gasped when his middle finger hit that spongy part at the back of her walls.

"Morning," his voice rasped, breath hot against her skin. He bit on the flesh of her shoulder, suppressed the urge to bite harder, then ran his tongue over it. Scully turned her head towards him so that she could nuzzle the side of his face. She was successful enough to reach his nose.

"Already?" she breathed, her legs opening further apart to accommodate his hand. Once she was almost spread eagle, with one leg atop his own and the other splaying on the empty space beside her, Mulder pumped in three fingers inside her cunt, moving his body away from their spooning position so that Scully could lie flat on her back.

He supported his head with a bent hand so that he could watch her face. Struggling to talk, Scully hissed when his fingers once more hit that special spot that he knew all too well, "This is number one for today, Mulder. Are you sure you want to use up your sex coupons this early?"

This made him smirk. It was now an inside joke – how she had to issue him coupons to make sure they don't go beyond three times (or twice, fine) a day for their lovemaking activities. When he didn't answer, Scully forced her eyes open, the blues still marred by sleep, and searched his face for an answer. When she settled on his smirk, she relaxed onto the sheets and reached up to push his neck down so that they could kiss.

Morning breath, yes, but it was Scully's and it was glorious. Swirling tongues, teeth clashing, lips devouring … not enough time, not enough breaths, not enough. Mulder pulled his mouth away from hers with a loud pop and descended his lips on the breast closest to his face. Her breasts had gotten heavier and larger since last month and he loved eating them up. If he could, he'd take one whole into his mouth, but Scully had complained of their sensitivity and being the good soon-to-be-husband, he complied by sucking them in earnest without any teeth. That morning was a different story, since Scully was writhing beneath him and one hand found the back of his neck to push him further into her chest.
His fingers dug once more into her wetness and she cried out. "God! Harder! Harder!" she whispered harshly against the side of his head.

"You're going to come at least thrice this morning, Scully," he mumbled against her skin, his tongue swirling over and over on one hardened nipple, "you give me another coupon for today, okay?" He left that breast and turned to the other one, lapping at it before French kissing its waiting nipple in earnest.

"I'm … I'm …" Her head thrashed against the dark blue covers of their pillows; nails pressing down on his shoulder while her other hand gripped the sheets beside her. Mulder knew her body well, knew what was about to come (so to speak), and with a contented hum, he steadied his finger's rhythm on her sex and turned his wrist slightly so he could press his thumb down on her clit.

That set her off. Scully's back arched into the air, bringing her rounded tummy up with her, and Mulder watched from his continued sucking of her breast, mesmerized as she quivered with the sunrise illuminating her defined curves. On his hand, her vagina shook and gripped his fingers so hard he couldn't take it anymore – he removed his mouth and hands from her body, positioned himself atop her, then in one swift move, entered her while she was still coming.

Mulder held himself atop her while her walls massaged his cock. When he felt that she was about to come down from her high, he pressed his index and thumb on her clit and stroked it once more while thrusting gently into her. He dug his heels into the mattress so that his cock could also dig into the bottom of her cunt, and with that, Scully came again before she could get down from her first orgasm. Mulder relished in the flush that crept from her chest up to her cheeks, her mouth open in a pronounced O, her nipples pointing skyward. Before he could strike once more, Scully anticipated his movements and held his wrist with a death grip. Her face winced from the intense pleasure she was easing out of; when her eyes opened, they were accusatory.

"Jesus, Mulder," she exhaled, small tears emerging from the edges of her eyes, "next time you do that you have to warn me!"

Mulder raised an eyebrow – a habit he acquired from her – and thrust once into her, making both of them groan. He wanted to cover her body with his, to kiss away those adorable tears that she got when her orgasms were particularly intense, but there was the matter of the bump on hand in between them, and he settled himself by bending his body forward to kiss the top of her bump. Scully propped herself up on her elbows to watch him pay his respects to the life they created together in between their bodies. His lips met the skin below her belly button, which was marred by the dark line that extended from the top of her stomach to the beginning of her vagina; he couldn't help it, he licked that line and sighed into her skin. Their child was still asleep, despite the early morning ruckus, and he was thankful for that. Now at the sixth month, he had been more than once kicked by the baby that grew inside her body. He loved feeling his child beneath her skin, but that morning, he had another agenda in mind and he didn't want the kid awake for it.

When he looked up to meet her gaze, Scully was tearing up again – this time, not from her orgasms. Mulder chuckled, reaching over to brush away the tears with his thumb. Another effect of her pregnancy: over-sentimentality. That which her Spunk-self hated at times.

"Okay, enough of that," she said, reaching up with her other hand to brush away the tears he couldn't, "start moving, Superman."

Mulder was happy enough to comply. With his hands on her hips, he pumped in and out of her. She was so warm everywhere – where his hands rested on, the legs that came around his waist to push him further into her seemed to burn against his skin, and his cock was inside a literal Scully-oven. Shit, it felt so damn good he could cry. It was this good every single day and the lingering thought in his head while he made gentle love to her was that he had to get her pregnant ASAP after she gave birth so that it could be this good again and again.
He closed his eyes. He wanted to watch her writhe before him but he couldn't – it would undo his concentration. Fine, he was about to come, he could feel it in the way the back of his head tingled and how his toes curled into the mattress, but he wasn't done with her. He trailed a finger on her belly before plunging his fingers underneath the hood that hid her clit from him. Scully cried out in surprise and pleasure; she made another move to swat his hands away and in between his urgent gasps he scolded her: "You're not done yet!"

"Mulder!" she answered back, stern but faltering. He was winning and he knew it. He grinned, sweat dripping down his brow.

"Give … me … the … third … one, Scully!" he shouted, punctuating each word with a thrust that hit her cervix. On her clit, his fingers flickered, the way he knew would get her off the easiest. His stomach almost caved at the intense pleasure all this generated, while her vaginal muscles contracted around his cock to signal hers.

Opening his eyes, he saw her fight for control and then with a gasp, she clutched the sheets beside her and opened her mouth in a silent scream as another orgasm overtook her body. One final thrust, and Mulder finally let go. His fingers left her clit and clutched her hips, bringing their bodies so close they were one molecule again, so that he could spill everything he had into her. His orgasm was too exquisite; Mulder bit his lip hard to contain the waves of pleasure coursing through his bloodstreams, so that it wouldn't spill out of his lungs, but it did in long wails: "Scuuuulllyyyyyyy! Fuuuuuuuuuck! Soooooo goooooood!"

A long minute later, he gathered her sweaty body against his underneath the sheets after he set the a/c on full blast. Her pregnancy had her body temperature higher than usual, and though he suffered for it since he easily got cold, he compromised with an extra blanket on his side and socks on at nights (when he remembered to put them on). He slid closer to her body and was about to drift back to sleep when she whimpered against his skin, "Wet spot …" He laughed and moved her away from the alleged wet spot. When they were finally settled, he closed his eyes. It was a Sunday – they could sleep as long as they wanted and fuck as much as he wanted (but he had to argue for it and it was damn worth an argument for).

After sifting through dreams of inky black, Mulder was awakened by a soft knock on the door. He opened one eye, checked on Scully to confirm that she was still asleep, and stood up to search for his boxers. Barely into his underwear, he opened the door and was face-to-face with Emily.

His daughter appeared beautiful that morning – her hair was up in a tight bun, she was wearing corporate clothes, and platform shoes that made her an inch taller than her father. A few months ago, after reconciling with her husband, she decided to intern for WB as a way for her to make some sense out of her "new" beginnings. Jeffrey was more than supportive of her career decision, especially so since it coincided with Jeffrey being drafted somewhere in Southeast Asia.

For a moment, Mulder wanted to cover himself up with his robe, but in their heated lovemaking frenzy last night, he wasn't even sure where it went. He shrugged and ran a hand through his soft hair. "What brings you here this early, Em?" he asked, clearing his throat when his voice didn't come out right.

Emily smiled crookedly at him, shifting one foot against the other while her arms were steadfast behind her thin body. "Someone was up late last night …" she teased.

Mulder rolled his eyes. This was something he hadn't gotten used to just yet – his daughter egging him about his sex life. Scully and Emily had gotten particularly closer to one another since his "time-out" when he found out about a bit of his fiancée's past; the two even had weekly Saturday afternoons when they went to have lunch somewhere away from him. Even worse: sometimes, his mother joined in when she was in town. And Teena was frequently in town upon finding out that she was going to have another grandchild.

"Good morning to you too, Emily," he said to get rid of his embarrassment. He wanted to reach over and kiss her on the forehead, but was afraid to mess up her whole formal façade. "What's up?"

"The news broke today, Marita wanted me to tell. Here's People." Emily handed him the said magazine, which he willingly received. Suddenly, Mulder was face-to-face with THEIR faces: on the cover, Mulder was wearing a casual blue suit while Scully was in an orange dress that complimented her hair. The dress was also tight enough to reveal the bump she had been hiding from the media since they found out about her pregnancy. They were both goofily smiling at the camera, his one arm around her and resting protectively on her belly, while his other gripping her arm towards him. Scully's hair had been dried straight so that it further accentuated the way her pregnancy had softened her features. Beneath their bodies was the long caption: We're pregnant! Hollywood's hottest love story from the highest-grossing summer blockbuster Danced Yesterday is expecting a baby! And sorry, ladies and gents, they're engaged! Story inside!

"On a Sunday, nonetheless," Mulder remarked, shaking his head, "How come Marita didn't call …"

"She did, Dad, about an hour ago. No one answered. It's already 11 AM." Emily rolled her eyes. "Are you and Dana planning to cocoon up in your bedroom for the rest of the day?"

At the sound of her name, Scully rustled behind him and he heard a "Morning, Emily!" from the bed. He moved a bit away from the door so that his daughter could greet her friend; Scully was wrapping the blankets around her naked body sleepily as she waved to his daughter. Emily waved back.

Mulder considered Emily's question and shrugged. "I guess. Weekends are for that," he emphasized, making his daughter smirk at him again. He let it pass. "Am I expecting calls?"

Emily placed a hand atop her chin. "Marita mentioned that ET, CNN, and some radio stations may want to call you up for further info … but nothing really to be panicky about. The story's out so we can all go out to the park and have some ice cream this afternoon. What do you say 'bout that?"

"Ice cream?" Mulder sighed heavily, knowing his daughter was pulling his leg. Emily still couldn't get over the giddiness of having a stepmother who was younger than her next year. She loved Dana, of course, but she loved annoying her father more. "Late lunch, perhaps? Where are YOU going, anyway?"

She stood up straighter at his question and brushed invisible lint from her suit. "I have lunch with Chance this afternoon. Meet you at the park afterwards?"

"Wow, climbing up the corporate ladder soon eh, Em?" He winked at her. CGB had always been patient with his family and probably saw it fit that Emily would be the next Mulder (or Spender) to take the reigns in WB. His daughter was quick-witted and street smart; she had bloomed into her own especially after recovering from the recent events in her life. Aside from this, CGB had been all out in his support for Mulder and Scully's pregnancy. He even offered his various summer houses as possible venues for their upcoming wedding.

Emily winked back. "He's like you, Dad, only softer and more relaxed."

"Ouch," Mulder replied, placing a hand over his heart, "you wound me, daughter."

"So, Dana," Emily peeked into the room, grimacing at the mess on the foot of their bed, "see you at the park later? Wear your skimpiest t-shirt, shall you? Let's give the press some shots that'll get them paid until their December bonuses?"

From the bed, Scully laughed. "Okay, see you later, Emily."

"I don't know why I even bother talking to you." His daughter wagged a finger in the air at him. "When it's so much easier to talk to my soon-to-be-stepmom." With that, Emily exited the room and closed the door behind her. Mulder shook his head at his daughter's comment and trotted back to the bed.

"Look, it's out," he said, sliding the magazine into Scully's hands. Once she had it, she began to leaf through it, grinning at some of the kooky shots they've done, like when they made funny faces at the camera or when he tried to jam her engagement ring into his own pinky finger.

Still grinning, Scully brushed off a curly strand of hair from her face and read out loud from the interview: "Fox Mulder has consistently been in the TOP 50 bachelors of Hollywood since he began to produce movies with heartthrobs like Harrison Ford, Sean Penn and Rob Lowe. He is not one for the attention though; it was brought onto him unexpectedly when he doubled as the spokesperson for a difficult movie shoot back in the late 70's. Suddenly, people wanted to know who this young producer was and their hearts were crushed when they learned that he was married with a young daughter.
"It wasn't meant to be though: when Mulder (as he preferred to be called) announced his divorce a few years ago, women literally started lining up to become the next Mrs. Mulder. Unfortunately, the producer resisted everyone's advances and, to Hollywood's best knowledge, had rarely gone out for dates. It seemed inevitable that Mulder and his sexiness would remain to himself and no one else's – he was destined to be a bachelor for all time, much to the chagrin of all the ladies out there. Then, Warner Brothers decided to give Mulder his directorial debut and as expected, the brooding heartthrob went at it with all his heart and soul." Scully gazed up at him through an amused expression. "Really, Mulder? The women started lining up at your doorstep?"

"They tried, my lady," he purred, running a hand over her belly, "they tried."

She chuckled then returned to reading the piece. "All his heart and soul was an understatement – Fox Mulder, of all places, met the leading lady of his dreams in the pre-production of his smash hit movie, Danced Yesterday. There, dancing in his friends' studio was the feisty redhead Dana Katherine Scully. The rest, they all say, was history. 'I've never met anyone like her,' Mulder now comments as he watches his fiancée pose for her individual photo shoot, 'you think you're done with marriage and children after a challenging one you just finished. You think you're okay with your career and a gorgeous daughter by your side, to be alone and your own damn person. Until you're faced with one woman who tells you to fuck off and you think, no, I'm not yet done. I'm not yet okay. Until I have her, I won't be.'" Scully placed the magazine down on her lap and smiled at him. "That's sweet, Mulder. I didn't think you said that while I was getting dolled up."

"I'm just as eager to read what you have to say about me, Scully!" He snatched the magazine from her and lain back on the headrest. Opening one arm, Scully cuddled against his body and snaked an arm around his midsection so that they were reading the magazine at the same time. As they read from their interview and sniggered at some parts that they were reading for the first time, Mulder felt that his life was dawning into a new era – one that involved Scully and hopefully, a brood of many little redheads in their wake.

Scanning the pages until he zeroed in on a quote from her, he read out loud and ignored Scully squirming within his embrace. "When Dana Katherine Scully first was acquainted with Director Fox Mulder, she wanted nothing to do with him. 'He liked his liquor,' she says now as Mulder takes his turn in front of the camera. While he moves around and makes silly faces, to which Scully laughs at, she continues, 'it was a long night and the last thing I wanted was a drunk man propositioning me things he thought I needed in my life.' She pauses when her fiancé raises his collar and stares at the camera in a brooding manner. That is the stare that launched a thousand girls at his doorstep, and one which obviously has its own tight grip on the British redhead. 'But then he truly cared about what I wanted and was interested in me. He cared enough to want to bring me home that early morning. It was as if he saw someone beyond the dancing; it was as if he saw me.' She smiles and pats her stomach, now almost six months in. 'They say you can pinpoint the exact moment you fall in love with someone – with Mulder, it never was exactly clear when I fell for him. I just woke up one day and felt that a switch was flicked somewhere; that this man, whom I despised at first, was suddenly the only man I could ever imagine myself with.' Scully sighs, softening, an unusual sight for the infamous ice cold stares and comebacks that earned her the hated nickname Spunk around Hollywood. 'He's my first love,' she admits in a whisper as Mulder finishes his shoot and starts to move towards us, 'and he'll be my last.'"
The magazine closed. The air around them was heavier but comforting. Mulder glanced down at Scully, who was still nestled in between his arm and who was now staring up at him expectantly. He understood what she was waiting for and he decided that he would go ahead and give it to her:

"You may not be my first love, Scully," he started, his voice straining in the mid-morning air, "but I swear you'll be my last." Lifting the hand that was around his waist, he kissed her knuckles tenderly. "I swear on my Father's grave."

Scully nodded, letting him lavish her hand with his lips. "And I swear on my Mother's."

He also nodded in agreement. They would be married later, much later, when she was comfortable enough to fit into the wedding gown she wanted and when he was comfortable enough to carry a baby on his arm without worrying if he'd hurt it or not, but as far as he was concerned, the real marriage happened that morning, in his bedroom, in the Manor, in the presence of each other, because as they agreed months ago, that was all that truly mattered.

Before meeting up with Emily in the park, Mulder brought Scully to a nearby restaurant for lunch and wasn't surprised when the paparazzi and media were there to welcome them. Though they were gracious enough to smile for the cameras, they requested a seat at the back of the place so that they could eat in private. Scully hated her appetite lately; she complained about a bitter taste at the back of her throat (which she assured him once more as something 'normal') and this delegated her to eat in smaller proportions of anything that was sweet. That meant pineapple on her chicken or a chocolate cake before main course. She missed her healthier lifestyle and the dancing that could keep the calories of what she was eating down. So, it was like a game of hide-and-seek whenever they ate: Mulder had to keep his eyes to himself while Scully guiltily ate what her body asked for. Imagine what kind of psychological torture the media outside would come up with if they snapped them during their strange dining exercise.

When they were done, they grabbed some ice cream sandwiches to go and proudly sauntered off outside, where the media were still there to snap more pictures of them. Scully showed her bump off proudly by opening her trench coat to reveal the thin white cotton shirt and leggings beneath. When the cameras snapped, she ran a hand across her belly to show off her engagement ring. Mulder waved at the media and acknowledged their 'congratulations' with small nods. The bodyguards assigned to them by the WB were there to ward off the media when the couple moved to a shady part of the park. Emily was already waiting for them there, together with John, Monica, and the toddling Lucy. Upon seeing them, Emily gave them both kisses on the cheek and proceeded to ignore him by linking her arm with Scully and leading her towards Monica. They all sat down on the grass and passed Lucy around with giggles and cheers when the little girl was able to walk on her own without falling down.

Mulder and John settled on the bench across them, opening the small cooler and grabbing the ice cream sandwiches. They both peeled off the aluminum foil and feasted on the snack in silence. When they were done, John pursed his lips to the cooler. "I hope there's beer there," he wistfully remarked, making Mulder chuckle.

"Sorry, my party-animal-friend, no beer in here."

"Wow. Times have changed." John shrugged and rested his stiff back on the bench, then sighed. "You ever thought we'd be here, Mulder?" He motioned to the three women and baby still laughing with each other on the grass. "The last I remember us being this contented was when we snorted heroine up our noses inside our college apartment."

"You're assuming I'm contented," Mulder teased, speaking through the last mouthful of his sandwich.

"How could you not be? Look at that girl you have. You're getting married and having a baby next year … you're daughter's doing well at WB and she's back with Jeffrey … hell, Dana looks better now that she's pregnant." John scratched at an invisible spot on his nose. "She was getting way too thin after filming. Oh, and your movie's a hit."

Mulder acknowledged John's cataloguing with a smirk. "She couldn't keep food down for a while before we found out she was pregnant. Don't get me wrong, John: I love that girl and I'm would gladly give my life for hers if she asked me to. But you know how it is when everything's going perfect …"

John cocked his head to one side, not quite sure of what Mulder was saying. "You mean, you're expecting something to go wrong?" he asked, his voice above a whisper as if making sure that the women couldn't hear what he was saying.

The Director didn't answer. Instead, he diverted the topic: "What's up with Krycek?"

Momentarily confused by the change in their conversation's direction, John took a moment to answer before hunching his body towards Mulder. "He has a movie in mind, according to our snitch at his studio. He's working on it after having to scrap his Danced Yesterday clone. But he wasn't happy, Mulder. Really wasn't happy. Don't worry, we have your back," he assured his friend, patting Mulder on the shoulder to express his point.

It was that time when Scully stood up from the grass. She placed a hand on both Emily's and Monica's shoulders to push herself up and waddled towards where Mulder and John was. John took the clue and offered his seat the pregnant redhead. Scully thanked him with a kiss on his cheek and plopped down beside Mulder. Immediately, he offered her the ice cream sandwich and she accepted her share with excitement. Soon, she was digging into the snack with an urgency that he had seen ever since she got over the morning sickness last month.

While biting into her snack, Scully made a comment that threw Mulder off track: "I think it's time for me to call them." The bulge in her cheeks made it hard for him to understand her so he asked her to repeat herself, which she did after swallowing her food.

Understanding, Mulder gazed at their surroundings. He watched his daughter hug Lucy as the toddler tripped on her feet and landed into Emily's arms; Monica leaning on John so that she could stretch her cramping legs on the grass; the leaves of the towering trees slowly swaying in the cooler breeze of Los Angeles; the cloudy skies hiding the majesty of the sun but unable to keep its rays from peeking through. He breathed in the heady scent of the city he loved all his life and exhaled the air back to it. Change was coming, he could feel it from both the city and the woman who sat beside him. Change was coming, and he had no choice but to welcome it.

"Do you want to see them?" Mulder offered, his eyes still closed. "You should see them before Dr. Parenti doesn't allow you to travel anymore."

"I'll pay for my fare," she quietly answered, making Mulder's eyes widen in shock. Before he could open his mouth to protest because he was planning on paying a private plane to send her to Wales, Scully shook her head and tucked the ice cream sandwich's wrapper back into the cooler, "No, Mulder. I'll go first class if that'll make you feel better, but I don't want you to spend money on unnecessary luxury. We have a baby on the way and that's more important than this little trip."

"Okay," he agreed, cautious, "do you want me to go with you?"

It was a full minute before Scully answered and Mulder thought that he was going to die of a heart attack.

"Yes, but let me go first. Give me a week with my family. Then, you come and meet everyone."

Mulder nodded, still cautious, because he knew how much strength Scully had to muster for her to invite him to go with her. It was the end of the road for her at that point: she was ready to finally let him in and allow him to see her past – warts and all. It was the end of the road for Mulder too: it was time for him to allow himself to completely trust her and himself in their relationship. It was time for them to grow up together.
Scully moved closer to his body and allowed her to slide close to him until she had an arm wrapped around his waist. He cradled her body close, thinking of the baby she was carrying and the future it assured them of, and kissed the top of her head. In front of them, Lucy toddled back to her parents while Emily clapped her hands in glee.

"I'm telling you, the script has potential."

"I'm not sold yet, Walter. YET."

"If we get Brad Pitt to star as the lead, will you go onboard?"

"Make it Harrison Ford AND Jodi Foster. I'm in."

"You're driving a hard bargain, Mulder." Walter paused when they ascended up the front steps of the Manor. "You're leaving in a week. I'm trying my best to negotiate here with you."

"You ambush me as I was dropping off my fiancée in the airport for a nerve-wracking, mind-numbing, soul-crushing one week apart BEFORE, before, I can finally fly off to meet her in Wales. Then, I meet THE family. The family that got us in a lot of trouble back then, remember? I'm on pins and needles here, Walter. Don't expect me to make a decision about that script just yet." Mulder unwrapped the green scarf from his neck with one hand, and reached into his pockets with the other. He exhaled loudly, watching the air from his mouth form a white slope in front of his face, and looked around the vicinity of Beverly Hills. It was close to midnight and the palm trees swayed in the chilly breeze that wafted from the low-lying clouds that accompanied the bigger-than-usual moon. It shone above him, sinister in its proximity to the ground, making Mulder want to enter the warm confines of his home faster than usual. The temperature had dropped overnight in Los Angeles last week; lately, it had been cooler than usual and he had to resort to using ugly sweaters his mother insisted on gifting him with every year. He usually spent his winters in Martha's Vineyard, so all of his winter apparel had been stacked safely there. However, with the fast-paced changes in his life (welcome or unwelcome, of course), he instead wrangled Teena to fly to LA for the holidays.

Then, a month before her flight, he dropped the bomb on her: "Hey Mom, Dana's going back to Wales … for a while. I'm going with her … after a week. We'll be back for the holidays."

Her only shocked reply was: "How far long is she again?"

Gee thanks, Mom.

Grasping his keys clumsily (more so due to his ugly gloves) and catching Skinner grimace at the dinosaur-pattern on his sweater, he shoved the key into the door's hole and shook his head when his friend still refused to answer him. Yes, thank GOD there were no paparazzi in the airport. He didn't want to catch his parade of ugly sweaters on the National Enquirer or People the following week. "Look, Skinman, I want to have the baby first before deciding on anything huge for my 'career,'" he made air quotes, pushing the door open with his shoulder, "for all you know, we may be moving to Vegas next year after Scully's given birth."

"Las Vegas?" Skinner exclaimed, running a nervous hand over and out his baldness. "What Vegas?"

"Folies Bergere wants Scully back for a three-year-contract, depending on negotiations. We got a call a couple of days ago." Mulder shrugged, blindly reaching in and groping for the light switch. "She also has a guest spot on Moonlighting again. They're thinking of making her a recurring character after she gives birth … and another movie in the horizon. It depends on her, you know. If she chooses Vegas, we stay in Vegas; she chooses Hollywood, we stay here."

"If she chooses Wales?"

The question, innocent yet prodding where it was most tender, hit Mulder right in the solar plexus. That was something they never considered as a couple – he had assumed that once they got married, they would inhabit Mulder Manor with their baby. It was as plain and simple as that; they had gone through hell and back with complication and at this point, he needed a reprieve. Give him his white picket fences and the Mulder clan, ASAP. Not Wales, not anything else. Not her past – not yet, no. He had a week to prepare for all that.

Mulder opened his mouth to answer – "Look," but was cut off when he realized that the lights in his Manor were already open. Jenny was at Emily's house and no one else was supposed to be in tonight …

He swung the door wide open and his eyes bulged out of his sockets when he saw who was sitting on his beautiful cream-colored couch:

Alex Krycek. With the one person he trusted with his life and whom he had given another chance when she messed up a few years ago – Marita.

"What the FUCK are you doing here, Krycek?" he turned to Marita, and didn't back down when the pretty blonde averted her eyes away from his, "Why did you bring him here?" To both of them: "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE. NOW!"

Skinner was able to maneuver Mulder into his house so that they could shut the cold gusts of wind behind them. Once inside, the Director strode towards his enemy and in one easy swoop, had him up against the wall near the fireplace, his hands holding onto Krycek's jacket and piercing the man with his gaze. Marita flew up and pulled Mulder away, while Skinner tried to separate the two men apart.

"Mr. Mulder, listen to Alex! He has something important to tell you!" Marita screamed into his ear, but Mulder refused to listen. He could only see red. This man, this guy, had cost him one trusted person after another: Marita, at first, and Alvin Kersh. When he spread all those terrible rumors about him a couple of years ago, it was only CGB who had Mulder's back against all the other members of the WB board who wanted to get his ass. He was alone, desolate, and he had nothing against him except the love of his daughter and the audacity to never quit. What did this asshole have up on his sleeve this time? He was too busy for this Krycek charade and he was putting an end to it now …

"STOP IT, MULDER!" Skinner growled; he was momentarily shocked and the older Producer took this opportunity to pull him back and away from Krycek. His former friend raised his hands up in surrender, indicating that he meant no harm, then straightened his expensive leather jacket.

"I need to talk to you," Krycek said, unsteady. He locked gazes with Marita for a split second too long that Mulder felt the blood rush to his head once more.

He turned to his assistant. "Marita? You're still seeing him?" he accused, the pain evident in his voice. Her silence was enough answer for him. "I trusted you …" he trailed, peeling off his gloves and tossing them to the coffee table in front of the fireplace. Suddenly, he was so tired. Too damn tired. Packing with Scully, making sure she had all her prenatal pills with her and taking her to Dr. Parenti for one last checkup before driving her to the airport; waiting for her flight, the emotional baggage of having to say goodbye to her and his unborn child …

Mulder plopped heavily on the couch, on the exact spot where Krycek was sitting on before being attacked. He closed his eyes.

"You two go. I don't need to hear anything from both of you."

"You do," Krycek replied, his voice closer than expected. Mulder still didn't move and kept his eyes closed. "It's about Dana."

His eyes flew open. His back suddenly became stiff as a board and he saw that Marita, Krycek, and Skinner were all crowding around him like an unlikely Three Wise Men. He motioned for them to sit, surrendering to his fatigue. He wanted nothing more but to let Krycek say what he thought he needed to say and them shove them out into the cold November air.

They all settled themselves on the available chairs. Mulder sneered when Krycek sat on the opposite end of the couch he was on. "Sorry, but I don't have iced tea to serve you all."

"Mulder," Krycek cut him off, "this is important. Look, whatever shit happened between us happened already. It's all in the past. I'm doing fine."

"His movie's coming out next year and its starkly different from yours, Mr. Mulder," Marita chimed in, which grated Mulder's nerves furthermore.

From his end and sitting on a small coffee table chair, Skinner grunted. "Choose your side carefully, Marita," he warned.

"Going to my house without my permission isn't exactly showing me that you're fine, Alex."

"Just listen, Mulder – geez, you can be so bullheaded. Even impending fatherhood doesn't change that, apparently –" Marita hushed him, but Alex continued, "I'll admit: I was pissed off a few months ago when your movie skyrocketed. I asked someone to do a little digging …"

Skinner threw his hands up in exasperation, as if asking the heavens why they were listening to this crap. But Mulder's interest was piqued, to say the least.

"I forgot about it, okay? My movie picked up and I was busy. Until my private investigator approached me today with some information I think you should know. Look, Mulder, I may have been an asshole to you before … but …" his former colleague stole a glance at Marita and she blushed. "I want to make things right before getting married."

It was Mulder's turn to throw his hands up in the air. Great. This was a fucking engagement party, it seemed. "Where do you want me to send the congratulations bouquet?" he deadpanned.

Alex ignored him. "He dug into your future wife's records in Wales and found out a couple of things … very well-hidden things …"

"Spill, Krycek."

"First, that she was married."

Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose. His head started to throb. "WAS married?" he clarified, his heart thumping like a bongo drum against his chest.

"WAS – she's widowed. And the circumstances of her marriage are strange, Mulder. She was married at the age of fourteen."

"WHAT?" Mulder bolted upright from the couch and faced Krycek with his hands on his hips. "If I find out that you're lying about this …"

The other Director lifted a thick envelope from the coffee table, which Mulder only noticed at that moment. "These are yours, okay? You can have them. I don't want anything to do with them because it's a lot of shit and honestly, it's your mess to fix. Before the media gets a whiff of it."

Mulder grabbed the envelope and set it aside, very eager now to hear the rest of Krycek's story.

"So yes, she was married at the age of fourteen … widowed at seventeen. Her husband died –"

"Gunshot wound to the face?" Mulder supplied, finding all the few facts he knew about Scully clicking into place. "Allegedly, he was killed by the three other Scully siblings?"

Krycek nodded, their eyes meeting in awe. "Yeah, allegedly. But that's not all, Mulder …"

"What else?"

"Marita told me Dana decided to go back to Wales."

"I-I just dropped her off and saw her board her plane. I'll be with her in a week. What's going on?"

"She may not be safe there." Krycek breathed deeply, looking like he was truly concerned about Spunk. Maybe, Mulder let his brain speak out, he truly was. "You see, the marriage could have only been consented by her family because she was underage. The Scully family in Wales is a prominent family. When Dana was thirteen, they fell into financial ruin because of her father's mismanagement of the family business. They sold some properties and stuff, the usual, but they were still in debt. So Dana was … practically, umm, sold into the marriage. The dowry saved their family's fortune."

Mulder felt sick to his stomach. The white walls of his Manor spun around him and before he could comprehend, Skinner was directing him to sit back down on the couch. The Producer mumbled something about getting water and left the living room.

Weakly, Mulder turned to Krycek. "What was the name of her husband?"

"Billionaire Don Pfaster. It doesn't look good, Mulder. There were persistent rumors surrounding him about being a … sick man. If her family sold her into that marriage, how safe could she be with them now?"

God, Mulder wanted to throw up. He wanted to so bad, but there was nothing to throw up. He also didn't have the strength to force himself to retch.

"The miscarriages she suffered are also highly suspect. The first, at five months, had happened after she was rushed all bruised and bloodied to the hospital. She was discharged to her sister, Melissa, after her physician refused her to be discharged to her husband, since there were suspicions on what happened. But that was swept under the rug, of course. The next was an eight-month old fetus that was delivered dead in the Scully Mansion. A month after that incident, Pfaster was dead. Dana … was, is, the sole inheritor of his fortune." He pointed at the files. "There's more in there. Dana's … been in and out of hospitals all her life."

Jesus. It all makes sense, Mulder's brain screamed. His whole body felt like jell-o on turbulence.

Skinner tilted Mulder's head so he could take a sip of the cold water. He nodded his thanks to his friend and settled back down on the couch. The walls had stopped spinning, thankfully, but his stomach still rolled around as if it was clawing its way out of his body.

It really all made sense now – the nightmares she had suffered, her fear of hospitals, her anger, her Spunky attitude, it all made painful sense to Mulder. The woman he loved, the woman he swore to be with forever … she was broken and bruised in places that were never meant to heal.

But then she HAD healed. She had loved him back. She wanted to spend forever with him, too. Something in her had changed; something in her had been brought back to life.

Mulder's insides calmed down, remembering what Scully told him months ago when he proposed to her for the first time in Paris.

I gave her back her youth. He brought her back to life and kept her alive.

Of all the people she could have had, of all the people she could've loved, she chose him. She gave him the responsibility of having her. Dana Katherine Scully gave him the responsibility of loving her. And he wasn't going to throw that away, no matter what she thought her past made her or how she thought he would never love her after he found out about everything.

With an eerie calmness overtaking his senses, Mulder burned his eyes straight into Krycek's soul. His former friend moved around in his seat uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances with his girlfriend from the other end of the living room.

"Why are you doing this? Why now?" Mulder demanded, instinctively reaching in his pocket for sunflower seeds and cursing silently in his head when he found none. Instead, he busied his fingers by playing with the loose thread on the hem of his ugly sweater.

Krycek sighed, long and deep. "I've watched you two on TV. Marita tells me all about you and Dana." Feeling awkward and looking like it, Krycek also fiddled with the patterns on the couch. "I've known you since university, Mulder. I've known you when you had to marry Diana. I've seen the look on your face when you introduced me to Emily, back when she was born. I-I've never seen that look on your face again … until I watched your press conference to announce your relationship with Dana. When you kissed her and unexpectedly she kissed you back, you had that same look on your face the day I saw you in the hospital with Emily." Krycek's voice lowered, "I didn't want to mess with that, man. Whatever I do will not take away what you feel for her … and I don't want to. I remember, back in our apartment in Harvard, we talked about finding the one. Remember that?" Mulder smiled in response, despite of the crisscrossing emotions in him. "This is it for you, Mulder. This is it."

Yes, Mulder thought, remembering the night Scully proposed to him. This, him and Scully, was indeed it.

Mulder smiled one last time at his former friend and regained enough strength to start formulating a plan in his head.

"Walter," Mulder whispered gruffly, sitting himself up straight, "you think you can score me a private plane that'll take me to Wales tonight?"

Everyone's faces in the room became unreadable, but Skinner recovered first by standing up and walking towards the phone in the living room.

END OF CHAPTER FORTY SIX

A/N: This chapter is for all the old fans of Spunk and those who tirelessly waited for this story to be completed. Now, in a few chapters, the end is near!

Post Script: All the feels with yesterday's ep. Did this chapter answer some of your questions about the whole story (and maybe brought on the feels, too)?