DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Char Chaffin and Tess
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@chaffin.com, and
Tnv099@aol.com

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -


PART FOUR



~ Chapter Thirty One ~


Along the ridge of encrusted ice and snow the men crouched, waiting.
There was no relief to be had from the unrelenting cold - none.  It
tore at their eyes and ate through layers of thermal underwear, heavy
polar-fleece and Gore-Tex and goose down feathers.  The hairs in
their nostrils froze together and those sporting beards were in pain
from their facial hairs freezing not only upon their faces but also
together, forming a lump of ice on their cheeks.  It hurt to move...
it hurt to breathe.

None of the men complained.

They lay in the snow, using it for insulation, their bodies indented
within small human-sized trenches, and they waited for the seals to
come.  In the later months of winter the seal herds had already moved
inland and had found solace in the slightly less-frigid temperatures
of the lakes surrounding Barrow and the smaller villages.  The seals
were slower, sluggish this time of year, relying on their body fat to
get them through the harshest months when food was very scarce.  They
moved at a plodding pace and were much easier to kill.  

It had been decided the village would need five small seals or three
large ones.  That much meat and fat would get them through the year
easily.  The hunting parties only went out for seal in the late
winter, before the pups were born - usually late March.  Only the
secondary male bulls were taken, the cows and pups left alone and the
main stud within the herd spared as well.  If the herd was large
enough finding at least three bulls was usually not a problem.

Today, it was a problem...

The herd they tracked was small.  There were numerous cows, some
already pregnant.  The stud was enormous and bellowed regularly as he
reigned over his harem.  The secondary bulls were scarce, though. 
The men sighed in frustration, knowing if they were lucky they'd get
maybe two.  And there was no question raised about the possibility of
taking a cow.  It simply wasn't done...

Patrick was closest to the smaller bull.  Unmoving in his trench, in
the dark he was almost impossible to see, and the seals' eyesight
wasn't all that great to begin with.  The snow helped to cut down on
his human scent and the seals could not smell the men in their midst.
They lounged at the edge of the small lake and the bulls honked while
the cows squealed at each other.  They huddled together to preserve
precious body heat and the frigid temperatures made them lethargic
and slow.  A full moon shining above illuminated the night and the
herd, making them easy to track.

Patrick edged closer, on his stomach in the snow.  Next to him,
coming out of his own trench, Mulder slid forward as well.  Slow,
easy... stealthy.  Ignoring the clenching deep in his belly, at the
thought of what he was about to do.  He was a subsistence hunter.  He
was adopted Inupiaq.  He hunted to provide vital meat and fat for his
village.  He hunted to live.

He was about to kill a seal.  It was a tough thing to swallow...

Mulder loved seals.  He always had, from the time he was a boy and
had become fascinated with Alaska.  He had read many books about
Alaska, learning all about the Native Alaskans and how they survived.
The hardest thing he'd had to accept was their practice of whaling
and sealing.  Whales were graceful, majestic and almost mystical. 
Seals were, well... sweet.  It was the only way he could describe
them, with their big round eyes and cute faces.  Seals were tender
and vulnerable and took excellent care of their pups.  

Now, all these years later, Mulder found himself living a life he'd
only fantasized about as a boy, never imagining in a million years
that he'd actually get a chance to live that way himself.  To be
faced with an existence such as this - he would never have dreamed. 
And yet... he was happy.  Happier than he'd ever been, happier than
he perhaps deserved to be.  He had everything he wanted, would ever
want, or need.  The boy had become a man, and then within the last
several months the man had become an Alaskan.  

Mulder shook off the squeamishness and the guilt at what he was
about to do, and sighted down the shotgun.  A second bull lay in the
snow several yards from his brother.  Mulder lined him up, knowing
that not far away from him Bill was also locked onto the seal.  If
Mulder missed Bill would get him.  And on the other side of Patrick,
Skinner was poised and ready.    It was time...

Mulder aimed carefully, then rose up on his knees and pulled the
trigger.  The kickback threw him into the snow behind him, the roar
from the shotgun and the sudden frightened bellowing of the herd
deafening him to the shouts of his friends as they quickly dispatched
the second bull and allowed the rest of the herd to scatter.  Mulder
scrambled to a crouching position and called to Patrick.

"Are they down?"  Patrick's shouted response was raw from the icy
air they were forced to breathe.

"Yeah!  Both of 'em.  Not moving.  We can go in, but be careful."  

Slowly they moved in and surrounded the two fallen bulls.  As Mulder
approached the bull he'd killed, he fought to keep his emotions out
of the equation, choosing instead to think about all the necessary
products this bull would yield them.  Meat for their tables and fat
to be rendered into oil; fur to line a parka - or a crib.  He looked
down at the breadth of the pelt, and figured there would be more than
enough for Scully to line the crib... And as he inched closer with
the rope in his gloved hands, preparing to truss the seal and get it
ready to drag out, the seal's big round eyes suddenly opened... and
looked straight at him.  Mulder's jaw dropped and he stood as if
turned to stone in the drifting, loose snow, staring down into the
animal's eyes, which were filling with blood.  Mulder gaped in horror
at what he'd done to this wonderful, sweet creature.

Then the seal's snout shuddered, and its muzzle opened... and in a
voice that sounded like broken glass and thick oozing sludge, it
spoke to him...

"While you stand in smug victory over me, back in your safe little
village your woman dies, Mulder... was your desertion of her worth my
death?"

Mulder fell to his knees in the dark red-tinted snow as the impact
of the words pounded into him, stabbing deep and twisting as he
screamed, and screamed... 

*****************

"SCULLY!!!  Jesus, no, SCULLY!"

He awoke with a hoarse cry of terror most absolute, lodged so deeply
in his throat that he choked on it as he sat up in the pile of
sleeping mats.  Next to him Bill grunted as Mulder's knee came into
jarring contact with his spine - but he never woke up.  On the other
side of him Patrick snored loud enough to rattle windows, if they'd
had any in their hunting tent to rattle.  Likewise Skinner and Manly
were dead to the world, huddled together on the other side of the
tent.  The air inside was cold, even with the warm air blowing in
from the portable propane furnace they'd left running outside, its
hose vented in through one of the flaps.  Mulder dropped his face
into his hands, unable to get the nightmare out of his mind.

He had learned from experience to trust these dreams, visions...
whatever the hell they were.  He might have questioned the having of
them, perhaps a year prior to this night... but not anymore.  Not
after what he had seen, and what he'd already lived through.  Mulder
wiped his hands over his face again and nudged Bill, hard.

"Hnnnhhh, whuzzit..."  Bill flopped over on his back groggily and
peered up trough the early morning darkness, the dim glow from the
safety lantern they hung on the outside of their tent providing
minimal visibility.  Mulder poked him again, impatient.

Bill, wake up.  We gotta go back.  Now.  They're in trouble."  Bill
came awake in a hurry at the urgent words and sat up next to his
brother-in-law, staring at him in the gloom.

"What - trouble?  How do you know?  What's happened?"  Patrick awoke 
and sat up, rubbing at his eyes, as Mulder called to Skinner
and Manly.

"We have got to GO.  Now.  It's gonna take us a couple of hours to
get back as it is."  Mulder stood up, his head bumping into the tent
roof, and searched around on the floor of the tent for his boots. 
Patrick and Manly just stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, but
Bill and Skinner nodded and began gathering up boots.  Neither man
questioned anything; Skinner had already seen the effect of Mulder's
dreams and Bill had already witnessed enough to make him a believer
in Sasquatch and leprechans...

Mulder explained it to the other men as best as he could while they
broke up camp and loaded everything onto the mobile trailers.  The
dream had been horrifically real; the significance of the bloody seal
not lost on Patrick and Manly.  And Mulder could not shake the
urgency and the overwhelming feelings of doom.  Their village was in
trouble, along with Scully and their unborn child...

He knew it with total certainty.

********

"Matty," Beverly called.  "Bring your pail over here."  She glanced
over her shoulder and beckoned to the little boy.  Matty trundled
across the barn.  His small pail banged against his legs as he ran,
sunflower seeds flying out and scattering over the planked floor. 
Beverly shook her head and pointed to a spot next to her.  Matty slid
to a halt and tipped his head back, aiming a sunny smile at the
exasperated woman and melting her heart.  She ruffled his hair and
bent low to whisper in his ear.

"If your Uncle Mulder knew how many sunflower seeds you spill every
time you feed the chickens, he'd have a fit!" she told him.  Matty
giggled and dug a chubby hand into his pail, sending a shower of
seeds down toward the chickens pecking at the floor around his feet. 
He had long since lost his fear of the animals and it had become a
daily ritual for him to accompany Beverly, Sophie and Warren out to
the barn after breakfast to see to the care of the goats and
chickens.  Like most mornings, however, he quickly grew bored with
the chores and he set off to investigate all of the dark and musty
corners of the barn.  He knew that the adults would soon be finished.
That meant it was time for their morning game of hide-and-seek.  

Beverly was watching out of the corner of her eye as Matty ran
toward his favorite hiding spot and her lips quirked up in a tiny
smile.  Even though they knew exactly where he would be hiding - he
hid in the same place every day - she and the others would make a
show out of looking for him in every corner and crevice of the barn
until he couldn't hold in his little boy giggles any longer and his
tinkling laughter would give away his hiding spot. 

Beverly leaned over the goats' pen and lifted a bucket brimming with 
warm milk over the top rail.  The milk sloshed over the top of the 
bucket as Matty's piercing shriek echoed through the barn, causing
her to whirl around.  The bucket fell from her nerveless fingers, 
milk  spilling over and around her booted feet as she saw the little 
boy dangling in the grip of a dark-haired stranger.  The man stepped 
further into the barn and she could see the silver muzzle of a gun 
aimed at Matty's struggling figure.

"Who are you?" she gasped as she took a step closer to the stranger
and the frightened child.  "What do you want here?" she asked. 
Beverly could feel Sophie and Warren breathing down her neck as they
crowded behind her.  

"Put the boy down!" Sophie demanded imperiously.  The stranger's
eyes flicked over the old woman dismissively and he refocused his
attention on Beverly.

"Where is Agent Mulder?" he asked in a low voice.  Beverly's heart
beat even faster as she wondered how this man knew Mulder and how he
had managed to track him to Mt. Vu'luk.  She licked suddenly dry lips
and said nothing.  The stranger tightened his grip around Matty and
pressed the muzzle of the gun against his tiny chest.  Beverly
inhaled sharply and lifted her hands imploringly.

"Please," she begged.  "Don't hurt him.  He's just a baby."  Her
eyes pleaded with the dark-haired man for mercy but he merely cocked
his head to one side, patiently awaiting an answer to his question. 
Beverly struggled for a moment; afraid to give this man the
information he was seeking and even more frightened not to.

"Mulder isn't in the village right now," she told him honestly.  She
shivered as a pleased smile broke over his coldly handsome face.  He
glanced at the whimpering child in his grip and then back toward the
frightened trio standing across from him.

"Then I want you to go and get Agent Scully.  Bring her here.  Tell
her an old friend has come to call."  He gestured stiffly toward
Beverly with his free hand.  She nodded and began to creep toward the
door.  Her heart broke as Matty held out his arms.

"Bevawee," he sobbed.  "Can I come with you?"  Fat tears streamed
down his round cheeks as he strained away from the frightening man
who held him in a crushing grip.

"Please," Warren implored.  "Let her take the boy with her.  We'll
stay here with you," he promised as he looked down at Sophie.  The
old woman nodded decisively and turned toward the stranger.

"You are frightening the child," she told him.  "Let him go.  We'll
stay."  She drew herself up to her full height and glared at the
stranger who barked out an ugly laugh.

"The boy stays here," he said. Glancing at Beverly with a ruthless
smile, he prodded her along.  "You'd better hurry," he advised in
cold, controlled voice.  She gulped down a frightened sob and ran
from the warmth of the barn.

*********

Scully was sitting in a chair at her desk and Mary was leaning over
her shoulder, studying something on the computer when the door burst
open and Beverly flew into the clinic.

"Da... Dana," she gasped.  "Come quickly," she cried.  Scully
struggled out of her chair and turned to face the distraught woman.

"What is it, Beverly?" she asked.  The other woman's eyes were wide
and dark with fright.  "Is someone hurt?" she asked, reaching for her
parka.  "Is it Sophie?" she wondered as she looked around the room
for the small bag that contained her stethoscope, blood pressure cuff
and other pieces of medical equipment.  Beverly shook her head and
tried to control her breathing.

"There's a man, a stranger in the barn," she began.  "He... he's got
Matty and he's demanding to see you."  Scully looked up sharply.

"Who is he?" she asked as she pushed her arms into the sleeves of
her coat. "Did he give you a name?"  Beverly shook her head again.  

"No, he didn't say," she told her.  "He said to tell you that an old
friend had come to call," she quoted.  Scully's brows furrowed as the
three women stopped near the door.  

"What does he look like?" she asked.  Beverly paused to collect her
thoughts.

"Less than six feet tall," she began.  "Dark hair and dark wicked
eyes," she said as the stranger's face appeared before her mind's
eye.  "Handsome, I suppose, but cold and evil."  Her hand gripped 
Scully's arm tightly.  "Dana, he has no soul."

Scully shuddered and covered the older woman's hand with her own.
"Get Reverend Jon," she said quickly.  "Then I want the two of you to
go and get Tara.  But you must not let her come barreling into the
barn," she warned quietly.  She turned to look at Mary.  "Maybe you
should go with her," she suggested.  "Beverly is going to need all
the help with Tara that she can get."  Mary shook her head and laid
her hand on Scully's arm.

"Beverly and my father will be able to handle Tara just fine," she
said.  "I'm coming with you."

The women hurried out of the clinic and Beverly raced toward Mary's
cabin to get Jon Honea.  Scully and Mary started toward the barn when
Scully stopped and looked over her shoulder.  She cursed herself for
growing comfortable and lazy.  She had believed they were safe in Mt.
Vu'luk.  Now her palm itched for the familiar feel of the gun stashed
safely away in the top drawer of her bureau.  She looked toward the
barn and saw a shadow moving across the doorway, pacing back and
forth.  With a heavy sigh, she turned away from her cabin and
continued on toward the barn.  The women moved as quickly as possible
but Scully was six months pregnant and her tiny frame was heavy with
her first child.  She stopped and bent forward, gasping for air, and
her hand rubbed at a stitch glancing low across her belly.  Mary
leaned over her friend and wrapped a supporting arm around her back.

"Are you alright, Dana?" she asked worriedly.  Scully nodded and
straightened.  Mary left her arm firmly around Scully's waist and the
two women cautiously traveled the remaining twenty yards to the dim
entrance of the barn.

Scully stepped warily into the barn and looked around the gloomy
interior.  She saw Sophie and Warren standing about fifteen feet
away.  Their eyes were glued to something to her left.  She spun and
saw the shadowy figure of a man, clutching a sobbing Matthew in his
arms. Scully peered into the shadows, trying to make out the face of
the man who stood hidden in its recesses.  Then she shivered as a
familiar voice floated out of the darkness...

********************

Mulder bent low over the handles of his mobile, willing the damned
thing to move faster. The wind blowing past his face was so biting it
constituted a raw, constant ache; the gore-tex facemask providing
just enough protection to save him from frostbite.  His thickly
gloved hands had a death-grip on the handles and he revved the engine
too much as he pushed up the speed.  He was driving recklessly, still
not familiar enough with the terrain to drive that fast.  Any second
he could hit a chunk of hard snow or a rut of ice, and upend into the
snow, breaking his fool neck.

At this moment such small potatoes could not bother him...

His wife was in danger.  Mulder knew this as well as he knew
anything of certainty - and yes, he was basing it all on a very odd
dream centering around a dead bull seal with blood in its eyes that
spoke to him.  

In the past he'd had less to go on...

They'd been riding for more than an hour and they had at least
twenty more miles to go.  The final few miles were especially rough
because they would have to cross Ruk Lake, which was riddled with
large chunks of trapped glacier ice.  They would have to zigzag
through the bigger obstacles and it was so dangerous... Mulder would
have to slow down or else he'd surely kill himself.

He couldn't slow down... his life, his whole existence was in
jeopardy.  And he didn't know who, or what, threatened his people. 
He only knew it was happening; had most likely already begun.  Mulder
gritted his teeth behind the thick face-mask, and pushed ahead,
knowing that the other men would eventually catch up; of necessity
they drove at a slower pace. They were pulling the sleds full of seal
meat and a smaller sled filled with their camping gear leaving Mulder
unencumbered by weight and able to fly low.

Five minutes later Ruk Lake loomed before him; the headlight from
his mobile shining on and accentuating the jagged surface.  It took
Mulder three seconds to figure out if he would slow down or maintain
his speed.  He was almost hyperventilating with fear; it permeated
his skin and choked him deep in his lungs.  Fear that he would arrive
too late; that whatever monster had arrived at his village and
endangered his loved ones would attack before he could reach them.

Mulder took the rim of the lake at a cool seventy miles per hour,
and the mobile arced over the first embankment and went airborne over
ice chunks and ruts of snow...

*******************

"Dana Scully.  Well. Well. Well.  It IS you."  Scully swallowed
convulsively as the man stepped into the light and his low voice
scraped over her raw nerves. She saw his eyes fall to the swollen
mound of her stomach and a smile of unholy delight crossed his face. 
She smoothed a protective hand over her swollen stomach, damning
herself for not zipping up the parka before stepping into the barn.

"Krycek," she spat with false bravado.  "How the hell did you manage
to escape the virus?" she demanded bitterly.  "The only good thing I
could see coming from this scourge would have been to know that you
and the men you worked for had been taken from this world by it." 
She struggled to keep her voice calm, but the sight of her nephew
clutched in the grip of one of her greatest enemies, the barrel of a
gun pressed against his tiny body, was almost more than she could
bear.  Krycek jostled Matty a bit, securing his grip on the child as
he walked in a slow circle around Scully.  Mary stood at her side and
laid a bolstering hand on her back.

"Oh, my... employers," he said slowly, "have met with a most
unwelcome fate.  But when the first reports of the swarming bees
began to surface last summer, I decided it was in my best interest to
head north."  A grin slashed over his handsome face.  "Imagine my
surprise a month or so ago to hear stories about a couple of FBI
agents in Alaska who were controlling the spread of the virus by
burning the infected bodies."  He lifted a brow as he continued to
circle the two women in a slow, predatory manner. "Imagine my
interest at hearing tales of a lady doctor working on a vaccine
against the virus."  Believing Krycek to be distracted, Warren
tightened his grip around the heavy battery powered lantern in his
hand and stepped forward.  Scully caught the movement from the corner
of her eye and she shook him off, knowing better than anyone what
Krycek was capable of.  The life of one old Inupiaq man would mean
nothing to him.

"I simply had to come see for myself," Krycek taunted.  "And imagine
my delight at seeing you so... full of life."  His smile was evil as
his gaze settled greedily on Scully's lush form.  "I know a number
of... well, people really isn't quite the right term," he said
conversationally.  "I know a number of interested parties who will be
very pleased with me for finding you in such a fertile state."  He
crept closer, turning his body to the side to keep Matty out of her
reach and lowered his lips to her ear. "And they said it couldn't be
done," he whispered.  Scully couldn't hide the frightened shudder
that shook her as his hot breath washed over her ear and neck. 
Krycek backed away from her, putting several feet between them.

"Let Matty go," Scully said in a hoarse voice.  She didn't beg,
knowing that Krycek couldn't be moved by emotion.  He tilted his head
to the side and glanced down at the little boy who was watching his
aunt with frightened eyes.  

"I'll trade," he offered suddenly.  Scully's eyes snapped away from
Matty's and up to Krycek's.  "You for the boy," he offered in a
falsely generous tone.  Scully heard Mary's frightened gasp and felt
her friend's hand tighten on the fabric of her parka.  Scully
swallowed with difficulty, terrified to put herself and her unborn
child in this murderer's hands. But the alternative was equally
unbearable.  She had no doubt that Krycek would not hesitate to hurt
or kill Matty to force her cooperation.  She nodded grimly.

"Put him down first," she said.  Krycek glanced around at the
collective gasps of fright from the other adults in the barn at
Scully's instant acceptance of his terms.  He pursed his lips and
nodded thoughtfully, carefully lowering Matty to the ground.  He set
his hand down on the boy's shoulder and the gun lay menacingly across
his fragile chest.  Krycek held out his prosthetic arm and jerked his
chin, beckoning her forward.  Scully threw a look over her shoulder
at Mary and felt the younger woman's hand reluctantly fall from her
back.  

Scully moved a few steps forward until she was almost within reach
of Krycek and Matthew.  Her nephew reached out and caught the leg of
her jeans with the tips of his chubby fingers.  Huge tears rolled
down his cheeks as he pulled away from the restraining hand clamped
onto his shoulder.  Krycek tapped the pistol against the tiny bones
of Matty's shoulder and stared hard into Scully's eyes.  She took the
final step that would allow him to transfer his grip from her nephew
to herself.  He let go of the child and wrapped his arm around her
waist, pulling her against his lean body.  Matty clung to her leg and
Scully bent down to him.

"Run to Mary," she whispered.  "Hurry, Matty."  He lifted wet,
frightened, blue eyes to hers and his chin wobbled as fresh tears
spilled down his cheeks.  Mary squatted down on the floor and held
out her arms.

"Come on, Matty," she called softly.  "Come on."  Matty's fingers
tightened in the denim fabric of Scully's pants and she smoothed the
fingers of one hand over his hair.

"It's okay," she promised.  "Go on."  Matty let go of her leg and
turned, tiny legs pumping as he flew to the safety of Mary's waiting
embrace.  She swept him into her strong arms and stood, turning her
body to create a shield between the child and the man menacing her
family.

Krycek's hand slid lewdly over the swell of Scully's belly.  She
swore she could feel the cold metal of the gun burning icily through
the heavy fabric of her pants as his hand roved over her body.  She
swallowed the bile that rose in her throat as he bit the soft lobe of
her ear.

"Agent Mulder's work?" he asked as his hand slid under her sweater. 
Scully kept her face turned away from his and bit back a sob as his
fingers dipped below the elastic waistband of her pants.  She
shivered as the cold muzzle of the gun caressed her bare skin.

"Is this Agent Mulder's child or something unspeakable growing
inside of you?" he taunted mercilessly.  Scully was unable to hide
the moan that tore from her throat as he easily touched on the hidden
fear that had nagged her from the moment she'd learned she was
pregnant.  Her involuntary reaction must have told him enough, for
Krycek grunted in satisfaction and he touched his tongue to her
delicate lobe, sending another shudder of revulsion through her
shivering body.  "Hmmm... either way, quite an interesting reaction,
Little Mother..."  Scully hissed in revulsion.

Suddenly Krycek pulled his hand and the gun from beneath her
clothing and draped it over her shoulder.  He wrapped his prosthetic
arm around her middle and began to herd her toward the door.

"Time to go, Dana," he said in a brisk, businesslike voice. "We've
got a hot date with a couple of futuristic best buddies."  The words
forced an almost inaudible gasp of pure terror through his captive.

Scully's mind worked feverishly as she thought of and rejected
several methods of escape.  She could not allow herself and her baby
to be taken from this village.  As they cleared the door of the barn
and stepped outside, she pretended to stumble.  Twisting as if to
regain her balance, she viciously sank her teeth into the flesh of
his good hand.  His grip loosened slightly as he howled with pain and
she turned again, slamming the heel of her hand into his nose.  Blood
spurted over his face and he screamed.  He knotted his fingers in her
hair and brutally yanked her head back as he swung at her with the
other arm.  The prosthesis caught her across the face and pain
exploded in her head.  Her knees buckled and she would have fallen if
not for the fingers roughly twisted in her hair.  Her vision grayed
and she heard a low snarling sound over the ringing in her ears.  

Nanook crouched low and bared her fangs.  This stranger had invaded
her home and was threatening her people.  Saliva dripped from her
jowls and a growl vibrated through her chest as Krycek yanked Scully
upright by the hair.  The dog leapt onto Krycek's back, her sharp
fangs sinking into his shoulder and he stumbled into Scully, throwing
her heavily to the ground and knocking the air out of her lungs.

Krycek and the dog fell.  The man rolled onto his back and Nanook
loosened the grip of her powerful jaw long enough to scramble out
from beneath him.  Krycek viciously kicked out, catching Nanook
across the snout with his booted foot.  The dog fell back and Krycek
stumbled as he tried to gain his feet.  Scully painfully pulled
herself up onto her knees and wrapped her hand around her stomach. 
She shook her head to clear her vision and saw Krycek raise his gun,
taking aim at the dazed dog.  

Scully closed her eyes in despair and turned her head as a shot rang
out in the icy darkness of the winter morning.

***********************


~ Chapter Thirty Two ~


The shot echoed clearly over the roar of Mulder's snowmobile as he
rounded the last corner of the outer circle of cabins, and roared to
a stop almost on top of the body, which lay bleeding in the snow.  In
the darkness, with only a dim light from the open door of the barn,
it was impossible to know for sure who or what lay in the snow just a
few yards from the rudders of his mobile...

Then he heard the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life; it
was hoarse and raw with fright and pain but it was alive, Thank You
Jesus... 

"MULDER!"  

From out of the darkness Scully threw herself at her husband,
gaining his side and burying herself into his heavy parka as Mulder's
arms snapped around her and he crushed her to his trembling frame. 
His embrace was too much; both of them aching so fiercely for the
contact and the comfort of each other that they were oblivious to the
bruising they would suffer tomorrow at their own hands.  Vaguely in
the background he could hear the roar of the other mobiles as they
gained the clearing and shut off; he saw Skinner running to Mary,
scooping her and Matty up into his big arms; heard her sob out her
lover's name above the child's whimpering.  

Mulder pulled his face out of Scully's hair and smoothed the tangled
strands away from her wet face, urgently demanding, "Baby, are you
all right?  Not hurt?  I heard the shot... tell me what happened!  I
knew you were in danger..."  That was as far as he got, for Scully
nodded wearily, not surprised in the least that her husband had
somehow known.  She pointed to the bleeding, silent mound on the
ground and her voice came out in a broken croak. 

"It's Krycek... Jesus... he found us, I don't know how but he did. 
Tried to take me with him and Nanook attacked him..."  She looked
frantically around for the fallen dog and sighed with relief when she
spotted Nanook lying in the snow licking her sore flank and still
growling low in her throat as she eyed the fallen lump of humanity
that she'd helped to bring down.  Mulder cooed at the dog
reassuringly, receiving a thump of her tail as an answer, and then he
swung his attention back to Scully.

"Who shot him, Baby?  Warren?"  Scully shook her head.

"I don't know, Mulder.  Not Warren, I'm sure of it..."  Her words
skittered to a stop as the small shaky voice of her sister-in-law
piped up from behind them.  They both whipped about - and there stood
Tara, clasped in her husband's embrace, both of them shaky with
delayed reaction - and in Tara's hands was a shotgun.  Her parka
and jeans were covered with snow; she must have been flung to the
ground with the force of the gun's kickback.  In the watery light of
the barn her face glistened with tears.  Skinner had set Matty
carefully down on his feet and the little boy had run to his mother,
wrapping his little body around her legs and sitting on her booted
feet, also covered in snow. Matty didn't seem to notice how wet he
was getting...  Tara exhaled on a shuddering breath and her words
were thick with emotion.

"I did it.  I killed the bastard.  He touched my Matty, the son-of-a-
bitch... he threatened you and the baby.  He touched my Matty..." 
Her voice quaked to a stop and she began to cry, sliding out of
Bill's arms and landing on the ground next to her son.  She threw the
shotgun aside and pulled the boy into her arms and hung on tightly,
rocking him as they both sobbed.  Bill knelt down next to them in the
snow and wound his arms around them both, whispering brokenly to his
wife of his pride and his unending love for her, and her bravery...

And Mulder let go of Scully and walked slowly to the bleeding form
on the ground, their enemy... brought down by a civilian, and a
woman, no less... brought down by a mother fiercely protective of her
child and her family.  His teeth bared themselves in a ferocious grin
as he bent over Krycek's still body, noting the weak rise and fall of
the chest.  The bastard was still alive.

He reached down both hands and grasped the dying man's collar,
pulling him up sharply, until in the dim light he could see the blood-
streaked face of his sworn enemy.  One of Krycek's eyes was swollen
shut; Mulder glanced inquiringly over at his wife and Scully shrugged.

"I hit him in the face... after I bit him."  Mulder allowed himself
one sharp bark of laughter, before he turned his attention back to
the piece of shit in his fists.

"I'll let you die in peace, you fucking mutant... if you tell me who
sent you here.  How you found us.  Don't tell me and I'll let Nanook
have another go at you."  As if to punctuate his words the big dog
jumped to her feet and loomed over Mulder's shoulder, growling with
terrifying menace into Krycek's dead-pale face.  Under his hands
Mulder could feel the man's fright at the thought of becoming a chew
toy for the huge Husky... but he pressed his lips tightly together
and refused to speak.  His undamaged eye began to fill with blood as
he stared up into Mulder's grim face.  The significance of that
bloodied eye was not lost on Mulder, who clamped down tightly on the
residual fear his nightmare could still produce.  Now was not the
time for that sort of analysis... he shook Krycek's limp body, hard
enough to rattle his teeth, and demanded again.

"Come on, you utter fuck... you're dying.  I know you're afraid of
dogs... something I always remembered about you.  Nanook would love
to play some more, wouldn't you, Girl?"  As if to answer him the big
dog whined and ran a slick tongue over Mulder's ear, her head still
poised over his shoulder - then she growled deep in her throat again
as her large eyes narrowed and she stared down into Krycek's battered
face, her sensitive nose twitching at the metallic smell of his blood
and the tangible stink of his fear.   

Krycek shuddered as he eyed the dog, but his mouth remained shut
tightly and he refused to speak.  He was dying and he knew it; what
was the point of giving Mulder anything else?  It was as if Mulder
could read these thoughts as he held fistfuls of his enemy's parka in
his hands and encouraged a dog to growl, snap at and generally
threaten an unarmed man.  And in his heart Mulder knew he'd get
nothing further from the scum whose coughing rattle caused a fresh
flow of blood to stain his bearded chin bright red, and whose last
gasping words told him nothing for they were spoken in his native
tongue...

"Byeschelovyechnoye e zhestokoye znayet, gde nayti poslyedniye
ostatki chelovyechestva, moy drug..." 

Mulder cursed a blue streak under his breath, fury beyond measure
assailing him as Krycek's last words thwarted him yet again.  Goddamn
it to hell... Russian; the bastard had eluded him even in death.  But
as he fought down the urge to tear his enemy's body into a million
chunks, Warren's soft, hesitant voice piped up. 

"I know what that means, Mulder.  I can speak Russian... I know what
he said."  And in a quavering yet decisive voice, Warren translated.


"The inhuman know where to find the last remains of humanity, my
friend..." 


Mulder dropped the dead man into the snow and stood up, turning his
back on one less threat to their future - and at that moment refusing
to dwell upon the significance of the bastard's final words.  He
walked slowly to his wife's side and wrapped his arms around her,
hugging her tightly.  In the silent early morning a child's sniffles
could be heard above his mother's hitching sobs, and as Mulder turned
and met his brother-in-law's worried eyes, Bill Scully stared at his
sister and her husband, and his voice was husky with emotion.

"Dana... you're all right."  It was more of a statement than a
question and Scully smiled reassuringly at her brother, taking a few
steps forward still holding Mulder's hand, and reaching out to grip
Bill's free hand with hers.  Bill tugged and Mulder let her go as
Scully found herself wound into her brother's embrace.  She patted
and rubbed at his back.

"I'm okay, Bill.  I might end up with a shiner -"  she touched
underneath her left eye gingerly, where Krycek's arm had caught her -
"but other than that I'm fine."  She looked up at Bill and smiled
again.  "You should take Tara and Matty home... we should all just go
home."  Bill nodded wearily and hugged her once more before letting
her go.  Scully stepped back into Mulder's arms and she watched Bill
gather up his family and herd them off, down the street.  Warren
headed back into the barn to secure the pens and check on the goats'
feed bins and Beverly gave Scully and Mulder both a hug before
allowing Patrick to walk her home.  Manly offered his arm to Sophie
who took it gratefully as they walked slowly up to her cabin.  And
Skinner led Mary off, but not before Scully latched onto both of them
and hugged them tightly.  A three-way embrace; two small women as
different to look at as night and day but with identical courageous
hearts, and the big man who cared so deeply for them both.  Mulder
fought down a lump in his throat at the sight of Skinner holding Mary
and Scully.  He could have lost her so easily today...

****************


Scully allowed Mulder to lead her into the bedroom of their cabin. 
She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited as Mulder left the
room and fussed about in the kitchen.  He returned a few minutes
later with an ice pack in hand.  He cupped her uninjured cheek in one
hand and tilted her head to the side.  Pushing her hair behind her
ear, he carefully examined her face.  Scully's cheek was swollen and
a bruise was beginning to form just below her cheekbone.  A small
amount of dried blood was caked along her hairline from a shallow cut
just above her ear.  He ground his teeth together to keep the fury
from spilling out of his mouth at the injuries on her delicate skin,
and gently pressed the ice pack to her cheek.  Scully sighed and
covered his hand with one of hers.

"What happened?" Mulder asked as he settled down onto the bed beside
her.  She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her
shoulder and she began to tell him about Beverly bursting into the
clinic with news that a stranger was at the barn asking for her. She
closed her eyes as she remembered stepping into the barn and hearing
Krycek's voice float out of the shadows.

"When I got there, Krycek was holding Matty and had a gun pressed
against his chest," she murmured.  "Matty was so scared," she said in
a trembling voice.  "I asked Krycek to let him go.  He said he would
make a trade.  Me and the baby for Matty."  She felt Mulder's arm
tighten around her shoulders.  "I didn't know what else to do, so I
agreed."  Scully tilted her head back and looked up into her
husband's face.   His eyes were dark and angry and his jaw was
clenched so tightly she knew it would ache when he finally relaxed. 
She pressed into him pleadingly.

"I'm sorry, Mulder," she whispered.  "I couldn't let him keep Matty.
You know as well as I do that Krycek wouldn't have hesitated to kill
him."  Her eyes begged him to understand.  Mulder looked down into
her earnest face and his features softened.  He fought down the
anger, realizing she'd really had no other options.

"I know, baby," he said as he smoothed a shaking hand over her hair.
"You did the right thing; the only thing you could do." Scully nodded
and drew in a deep breath, determined to finish the story and put it
behind them.

"He put Matty down and grabbed me," she told him quietly.  "I told
Matty to run to Mary and then Krycek began pushing me out of the
barn," she said.  She chose not to mention Krycek's wandering hands
and lewd comments, knowing they would only make Mulder crazy.

"I knew I couldn't let him take me from the village so as soon as we
were far enough away from Matty and the others, I pretended to
stumble.  Then I bit him and smashed my hand into his nose."  She
looked down at her palm and then up at Mulder.  "I think I broke it,"
she said.  Mulder's eyes glowed with pride and she smiled as she
recalled the satisfying sensation of feeling Krycek's nose shatter
beneath the impact of her blow.  

Scully glanced away and hurried through the rest of the story.  "He
hit me across the face.  My ears were ringing and everything was
swirling around me.  I could hear Nanook snarling as she attacked and
I fell.  I saw Krycek get up and aim his gun at the dog and then...
God, everything happened so fast.  I heard the sound of a gunshot and
then suddenly you were there and Krycek was dying..." Her voice
trailed off and she slumped against him tiredly.  Mulder was quiet as
the horrific scenes played out in his mind's eye.  He didn't want to
see it again; re-hash it all again - but he had no control over the
images that began plaguing him.  Scully, threatened by that piece of
shit.  Scully hit across the face... just the thought of Krycek
touching her in any way was enough to send him close to the edge... 

Scully set the ice pack down and rubbed a hand over her hip.  Mulder
caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and looked down
sharply.

"Are you hurt?" he asked worriedly, gesturing toward her hip. 
Scully shrugged.

"Just a little ache," she assured him.  "I landed on my hip when I
fell."  She pulled her hand away and smoothed it over his cheek. 
"I'm fine," she told him.  But Mulder wasn't going to be brushed off
by her standard denial and he began to press her back against the
pillows.

"I want to see.  You're rubbing at it, Scully - it can't be that
fine."  Scully tried to stop his hands from undressing her.

"Mulder," she protested.  "I promise you, everything is okay," she
said, but he was determined to see for himself.  He peeled her shirt
from her shoulders, leaving her clothed in a long-sleeved fleecy
undershirt, and began to tug at the elastic of her maternity pants,
pulling them down her legs.  Scully blew out a frustrated breath and
submitted, allowing Mulder to see for himself that she was fine.  She
propped her head up on a pillow and watched her husband trace
trembling fingers over a bruise that stood out against the fair skin
of her thigh.  Another bruise was beginning to form and peek out from
beneath the leg opening of her underwear.  Mulder grabbed the
waistband of her underpants and pulled it aside, trying to determine
how large the bruise was.  His sharp hiss of indrawn breath was loud
in the little room.

"What is this?" he asked in a low voice.  Scully peered down and saw
his fingers touching several angry, red scratches that marred the
skin over her swollen belly.  She frowned, confused for a moment by
their origin and grimaced in remembrance.  She should have learned by
now that she couldn't keep secrets from Mulder, she thought.  Scully
sighed heavily and pulled his hands away from the scratch marks,
tugging her clothing back into place.

"When Krycek grabbed me in the barn," she said slowly, grasping his
wrists in her strong grip, "he seemed surprised and happy to see that
I was pregnant.  He told me that he knew a number of 'interested
parties' - was the way he put it - that would be thrilled to know I
was pregnant."  She caught and held Mulder's gaze with her own,
determined to get through this quickly.  "You know the way he was,"
she said.  "Always taunting, mocking his prey."  Mulder nodded,
willing her to continue.  Whatever she was about to tell him, he knew
he was not going to be happy to hear it.

"He slid his hand under my clothes and was whispering in my ear." 
She shivered as she remembered the way the moist heat of his breath
had wafted her flesh.  "He asked me if this was your baby or an
abomination growing inside of me."  Her chin quivered and she fought
for control. She had to get through this and get it over with.  "I
guess his gun scraped my skin, although I wasn't aware of it at the
time."  She shrugged it off.  "They don't even hurt," she assured him.

Mulder's hands clenched into the fabric of the quilt covering the
bed and his arms shook with the desire to go out and rip Krycek's
body apart with his bare hands.  Jesus... the filth had put his hands
- AND his gun - on Scully's bare body.  Her pregnant belly - right
over the place where their child, innocently grew and thrived.  
Mulder ached to bring the bastard to life again just so he
could have the extreme pleasure of killing him - this time slowly. 
With great torturous pain and suffering... The fact that the man was
already dead simply wasn't good enough, he thought as he looked at
his wife's bruised body splayed out on the bed beside him.  Scully
felt the tremor ripple through Mulder and she slid her hands up his
arms, trying to soothe him with her touch.

"I'm alright, Mulder," she said.  "I'm fine and so is the baby," she
promised.  "It's over.  Please, try to let it go."  She tugged on his
arms until he was stretched out alongside her. She rolled onto her
side and pressed her burgeoning stomach against him.  "We're both
okay," she murmured again.  The baby chose that moment to begin
stretching and kicking vigorously inside her womb.  Scully winced and
then laughed softly.

"See?" she asked, as she smoothed the hair that had tumbled over
Mulder's forehead out of his eyes.  "Everything is fine."  She
pressed her lips to his and held the kiss until she felt him begin to
relax.  She sighed in contentment as he rolled onto his back and his
arms stole around her, gathering her close.  She nestled her cheek
against the warm flannel of his shirt and felt the vibration of his
voice as it rumbled through his chest beneath her ear.

"How do you think he found us?" Mulder asked.  Scully shrugged. 
This was the fear that had been nagging at her from the first second
she had clapped eyes on Krycek in the barn.

"I'm not sure," she said worriedly as Mulder stroked his hands over
her back.  "He said that he went north when the bees were first
released," she remembered.  Mulder snorted mockingly.

"Yeah, he's always been good at saving his ass," he said bitterly. 
Scully lifted her head and her voice was filled with savage pleasure.

"Not today," she reminded him.  Mulder nodded.

"No.  Today he met his match," he said and they shared smiles of
grim satisfaction.  Scully stacked her hands on his chest and propped
her chin on them.  

"He said that he had been hearing reports about a couple of FBI
agents in Alaska and of a female doctor working on a vaccine," she
told him.  "He told me he just had to come check for himself."  She
shrugged again.  "I don't think he was sent here by anyone or
anything," she said slowly.  Mulder lifted a tendril of her hair and
began to rub it between his fingers.

"Still," he said ruefully.  "We're obviously not doing a very good
job of maintaining a low profile."  Scully nodded and bit her lip. 
She nestled her stomach against his hip and her eyes were worried.

"Do you think it's safe for us to stay here?" she asked.  "Krycek
found us easily, and I don't think he was actually looking for us." 
She cast her eyes around the room that had become a safe haven for
them and then her gaze returned to Mulder's.  "We might be putting
everyone we love in danger by staying here," she said slowly.  "Maybe
we should consider leaving," she whispered.  Mulder stroked her hair
and briefly considered her suggestion, dismissing it instantly.  They
couldn't leave here... they needed the village and the village needed
them.  It was as simple as that.  He shifted and rolled onto his
side, resting his hand on her belly.

"And go where?" he asked.  "No," he shook his head.  "We can't
leave.  You're six months pregnant and we're living in one of the
most remote parts of the United States.  We wouldn't stand a chance
on our own.  And besides, you have to finish your work on the
vaccine.  No," he repeated.  "We're not going to be driven out of our
home again.  We'll just have to be more vigilant."

Scully nodded, relieved.  She didn't want to leave Mt. Vu'luk and
her family and friends.  Hearing Mulder put into words what she had
been thinking helped solidify things for her and she nodded
resolutely.

"Okay," she agreed and smiled at him.  Mulder smiled back softly and
stretched against the quilt covering the mattress.  He groaned as the
aches and pains caused by his bone-jarring race across the frozen
tundra made themselves known.   He nestled down into the pillows and
wrapped his arms tightly around Scully, burying his face in her hair.
She was warm and alive in his arms and for the first time since he
had been ripped from sleep this morning, he allowed himself to relax.
  
Scully felt Mulder's muscles loosen and ease as sleep claimed him
and he slumped against her.  She glanced at her watch and briefly
considered slipping out of the bed to go to the clinic for the rest
of the day, but quickly decided against it.  She didn't want him to
wake up and find her gone.  She knew that he needed her to stay close
so that he could touch her and reassure himself that she and the baby
were safe.  She needed that as well.  Decision made, she snuggled her
aching cheek into the soft pillow and wrapped her strong arms around
her husband's sleeping form.  And in the mid-morning darkness of
their bedroom, she kept watch.

********************

For Bill Scully the early evening brought idle time - and an excuse
to think and to dwell on the day's events.  He had managed to avoid
it most of the day; finding numerous projects around the cabin to
keep him busy.

He worked his whittling; Jon Honea was teaching him how to carve and
Bill's first lessons centered around practicing on wood pieces. 
While Tara and Matty slept in the big bed, Matty muttering in his
sleep, Bill whittled and kept the fire in the pot-bellied stove
roaring and cleaned out the water tank and finished several small
repairs in the kitchen.  He ate a simple lunch of leftover rabbit
stew and made a trip to the cache to pull enough caribou steaks for
dinner.  He was afraid to drift very far from the cabin, worried that
Tara might wake up screaming from a nightmare.  Luckily although her
sleep wasn't very solid it didn't appear she was having bad dreams.  

Mary had generously offered to take Meggie over to her cabin so that
Tara and Matty could sleep undisturbed, and Bill had been grateful
for her kindness.  As much as he'd wanted Meggie with them, he knew
the rambunctious little girl would never allow her mother to rest. 
Bill made arrangements for Michael to deliver his daughter later in
the evening.

Tara slept five hours before awakening, her arms aching from the 
kickback on the shotgun she'd fired at Krycek.  After moving the
still-sleeping Matty to his own little bed and leaving the door open
in case he woke up, Bill made her swallow three aspirins, hoping it
would help ease the soreness, and sat on the edge of the bed where
she lay, gently massaging each of her arms.  Tara watched him through
half-closed eyes as he rubbed and kneaded her skin.  He hadn't said
much of anything about the events of the morning other than his
initial anxieties over her and Matty's safety.  He'd hustled them
home and wrapped them up into the bed and his arms, and lulled them
both to sleep.  She'd awoken once from a bad dream, fighting
swaddling bedcovers that had become twisted around her hips.  She
hadn't called out for Bill, though - judging by the soft clanking of
metal in the kitchen he was attempting to fix something.  She'd
fallen back asleep.  

Now she looked up at her husband as he concentrated on the lovely
massage he was giving her, and she knew whatever was brewing behind
those Scully eyes of his would have to come out naturally - she
couldn't force him to talk about it.  Surprisingly, Tara had already
reconciled herself to the means she'd taken to secure her child's
life.  And once she'd found a way to do that she was actually damned
fine about it.  It was true that a year ago she could not have
imagined aiming a gun, much less shooting it.  Bill had once tried to
teach her to shoot but she hated guns; was never willing to try. 

Then just a few weeks ago Manly had offered to show her how to
shoot, after he'd overheard her mention to Sarah that she might want
to go out hunting with the men come summer... and Tara had discovered
herself to be quite the apt pupil.  She'd learned to shoot a pistol
and a shotgun, competently enough after a few lessons to know that if
she aimed at something especially with the shotgun, chances are she
would hit it.  And the fierce satisfaction she'd felt when she'd come
running into that deadly fray with a gun in her hands... her senses
locking on to several elements simultaneously, starting with the
yelping Nanook in the snow and the dark-coated stranger who had his
own gun trained on the dog's head ready to shoot her...  

The sight of Dana on the ground holding her stomach protectively,
and the hysterical sobbing of her child, in Mary's arms - all of that
exploded into Tara's head when she came running.  And there wasn't a
question in the world what she was going to do; she'd known it from
the first moment Beverly and Jon had burst into her cabin, where
she'd just laid Meggie down with her stuffed rabbit.  She'd known. 
So had Jon, for he'd simply hobbled over to the rocking chair next to
the crib and had sat down to watch over Meggie, leaving her free to
snatch up the shotgun from the shelf above their hall closet, her
suddenly rock-steady hands checking for ammo as she grabbed her parka
and ran out the door with Beverly on her heels.  

As she ran through the snow there wasn't a doubt in Tara's mind that
this monster would die, and by her hands.

Bill finished up the massage and just sat on the bed stroking her
hands, and Tara knew he was dying to ask her how on earth she'd known
how to use that shotgun... but she would not bring it up, not until
he spoke first.  Her Billy was stewing, and he would have to come to
a complete boil before he could get rid of whatever ate at him.  She
twined her fingers through his and held on warmly, smiling into his
worried eyes.  Tugging on their linked hands she pulled him down
until she could reach his mouth, and she kissed him gently then
whispered against his lips.

"Thanks, Billy... my arms feel so much better."  She pulled back a
little to see his face.  Bill nodded but still said nothing, his
throat  working a little, his adam's apple moving as if he wanted to
speak but could not find the words.  Tara decided to take pity on him
and start the ball rolling.  She knew her husband; he was one of
those stubborn, stoic Scullys, after all.  She'd had lots of
experience over the years, prying underneath the standard, "I'm
fine..." for her beloved sister-in-law wasn't the only Scully who'd
uttered that phrase to her.  Tara cupped a tender hand along his jaw
and her soft murmur was his undoing.

"Billy, sweetheart, please... talk to me."  At the gentle request
Bill started to shudder, and he swept her into his arms and held her
much too tightly.  Tara held him just as hard, and simply waited...
Bill buried his face in his wife's silky hair and his low voice was
raw with emotion.

"Jesus, Tara... I could have lost you both.  You and Matty.  When
Mary told me how that rotten fuck had taken Matty and held a gun to
him..."  Bill shook all over at the image of his sweet, tiny son held
in the arms of a murderer.  He'd heard the name Krycek before; knew
him to be an old nemesis of Mulder and his sister.  He'd never met
the bastard, until today... if you could call staring in the eyes of
a dying man any sort of meeting.  Bill sucked in a deep, shaky breath
and gripped Tara even harder, as he fought to purge himself.

"I should have been here.  I didn't have to go hunting; I should
have stayed behind.  Christ, Warren is a brave man but he's an old
man, Tara - and his health is poor.  What could he have possibly done
to help?  I should have stayed behind!"  His voice broke as the guilt
he'd been garnering all day finally swamped him and spilled over,
scalding him.  He'd just had to go hunting, couldn't stay home.  His
first taste of the hunt had been exciting and he'd wanted it again,
Goddamn him.  There only needed to be a four-man sealing team going
out, he knew that.  And Mulder hadn't gotten a chance to hunt yet, so
it was right that he'd gone - but Bill could have - should have -
stayed behind.  He found himself speaking those thoughts aloud, and
Tara immediately took exception to his self-depreciating words,
pulling away enough to concentrate on his face.

"No, Billy!  That's got nothing to do with it!  It wouldn't have
mattered who had stayed behind; Krycek still would have come.  He
still would have grabbed someone and held them with a gun against
their head.  Maybe it wouldn't have been our son, but it still would
have happened to one of us.  The son-of-a-bitch took us by surprise,
Bill - early in the morning when we least expected anything of the
sort."  Tara sat up a little more and her hands framed her husband's
pale cheeks.

"Listen to me.  You and the rest of the men can't always protect us.
There's safety in numbers, it's true - but we are living in a
dangerous world now.  We all need to be able to defend our home. 
Dana shoots better than anyone in this village including Mulder and
Manly, who taught me how to handle that shotgun.  I'd told Sarah I
may want to go out hunting one of these trips and he overheard us and
made the offer."  She smiled slightly at the look of surprise on
Bill's face, and added, "Well, why not?  Women can hunt, can't they? 
Manly gave me a few lessons.  I wanted to surprise you," she chuckled
a little.  "I think I succeeded, didn't I?"  Bill nodded slowly.  

She'd definitely surprised him... He found himself smiling as well,
and he gathered her close and snuggled her.  "I WAS proud of you
today, Tara... so proud.  Glad I took the rifle with me and left that
big-ass shotgun, even if the kickback landed you on your butt.  You
took out the baddie... you saved our son.  You saved my sister... you
did it."  He kissed her mouth tenderly and Tara sighed and kissed him
back, relieved his agonizing was over...

And as Bill held and kissed his wife he prayed for the strength to
get past the guilt that still ate at him...

******************




~ Chapter Thirty Three ~


"Damn it!"

Scully studied the test results for a fifth time.  "Damn it," she
swore again softly.  She set the papers on top of the cluttered desk
in the tiny office of the clinic and pinched the bridge of her nose
between her thumb and forefinger.  Dropping her eyes back down to the
test results staring up at her accusingly, she rubbed the heels of
her hands against her eyes.  All these months, she thought, and I
still don't have a workable vaccine. She pushed the papers away in
disgust.  Then pushed them a little further.  Finally, in a fit of
temper, she picked up an entire folder of papers, nearly five months
worth of test results and calculations, and threw it across the room.
It hit the wall with a resounding thud as charts, graphs and DNA
analyses floated soundlessly to the floor.  Scully felt a moment's
satisfaction and then she sank back into her chair as she watched the
papers scatter about the office.  All that work, she thought, and now
I've just gone and made more.

She pushed out of her chair and grabbed onto a table near the door,
clumsily lowering herself to her knees.  She gathered the bulk of the
papers into a haphazard pile and stuffed them into the file. 
Crawling around the floor, she ducked her head under tables and
slipped her hand beneath the tiny sofa, gathering her research and
storing it back into the file.  She thumped the folder back onto the
desk and hauled herself up, collapsing into her chair.  She looked at
the papers spilling messily out of the folder and pushed it aside to
deal with later.  Scully instead turned her attention to the computer
perched on the top of the desk.  Clicking on the toolbar, she
scrolled through a list of files, finally choosing one and opening
it.  She pulled a pad of paper toward her and began another set of
calculations.  

She knew she was close - so close to finding the vaccine.  All of
the variables were there.  It was just a matter of finding the right
sequence.  Scully squinted at the monitor, wishing yet again that she
had her glasses with her.  She was hunching over the desk making
notes and trying desperately to ignore the ever-present ache in the
small of her back.  In her seventh month, Scully was well rounded, as
the child in her womb grew daily.  She dug her thumbs into her back
and tried to focus on the information before her.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Scully lifted her head sluggishly as Mulder stepped into the room. 
"Huh?" she asked tiredly.  Mulder shook his head and leaned his hips
against her desk.  He pushed back the sleeve of his parka and glanced
at his watch.

"It's almost nine o'clock," he said reprovingly.  "You've been here
over twelve hours."  Scully nodded absently and shoved at his leg as
she tried to pull a piece of paper out from beneath him.

"I know," she said.  "But I've been busy."  She succeeded in freeing
the printout she was looking for and began to study it closely,
making small notes in the margins.  Mulder heaved an exasperated sigh.

"I saw Mary leave three hours ago," he said quietly.  Scully dragged
her attention away from her work and looked up at him.  

"What?" she asked in confusion.  Mulder crossed his arms over his
chest and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I said, I saw Mary leave the clinic three hours ago," he repeated
slowly.  Scully nodded and shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'what
of it'.  She dropped her eyes back to the computer and opened a new
file.

"I told her to go," she said as she peered at the numbers rolling
across the screen.  "Michael, Walter and her father were holding
dinner for her," she told him.  Mulder muttered something under his
breath and Scully tore her attention away from her work again.

"What is it, Mulder?" she asked in exasperation.  She was never
going to get any work done if he didn't leave soon.  Mulder was
staring at a distant point on the wall on the other side of the room,
counting slowly and trying to control his temper.

"I said that I was waiting for you to come home for dinner," he
repeated in a louder voice, turning away from his study of the wall
and locking his gaze on her.  Scully's eyes dropped away and she
fiddled with a pencil lying on the desktop.  

"I'm sorry," she began.  "But I got caught up in what I was doing...
I thought I was onto something," she finished lamely, gesturing
toward the mountain of papers scattered across her desk.   Mulder
leaned down and placed his hands on the arms of her chair,
effectively locking her into the cage of his arms.  His eyes bore
into hers intently.

"Ever since I found that vial in my pocket, you've been acting like
a woman possessed," he said accusingly.  "You don't eat.  You only
sleep when your body shuts down on you.  I never see you."  He
twisted at the waist and snatched the mouse from her hand, closing
the files and programs she was working on and shutting down the
computer.  Scully pushed her chair back and awkwardly flung herself
to her feet.

"I was working on that!" she cried as she tried to regain control of
the mouse.  Mulder used his shoulders to block her and when the
computer had shut down, he flipped off the monitor and drew himself
up, towering over her and trying to use his height to quell her
protests.

"You can't keep going on like this," he said, trying for a
reasonable tone of voice.  "You look exhausted.  Dark circles under
your eyes and you're losing weight instead of gaining," he said
harshly.  "You're pregnant, Scully."  His eyes flicked down to her
swollen belly and back up to her face... and Scully saw red.

"Well, no shit, Sherlock! I'm damn well aware that I'm pregnant,"
she snapped angrily.  "I'm not likely to forget what with your
constant nagging and everyone else sticking their nose into my
business."  She raked her hair back from her face and snatched a
rubber band out of a desk drawer, viciously snapping it around her
hair in a sloppy ponytail.  "Every day it's the same thing," she
muttered as she began tossing papers into a folder.  "Sarah ambushes
me on my way to the clinic and forces this vile-tasting tea down my
throat." She shuddered at the memory.  "Tara spends half of her time
criticizing me for not eating right or exercising enough and the
other half of the time, showing off what a wonderful, perfect example
of motherhood she is."  Scully could hear the nasty words pouring out
of her and felt helpless to stop.  She stalked across the room and
yanked open a cabinet, pulling out several small files and adding
them to the stack she was collecting.  

"Meanwhile everyone else in the village seems to think that my body 
is public property.  Poking and prodding at me and constantly putting 
their hands on my stomach without asking permission.  Everyone is an 
expert on pregnant women and everyone is full of advice and 
suggestions and criticisms."

Mulder grabbed her by the elbows, intent on reasoning with her - but
she cut him off before he could open his mouth. "I'm sick of it," she
hissed.  "I'm desperately trying to come up with this vaccine and I
don't have time to listen to all of you tell me about what a woefully
inadequate mother I am!"  Her voice was low and spiteful.

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to jerk away from his hands. 
"And I'm tired of being treated like a goddamn incubator," she said
viciously.  She tried twisting away from him and when she couldn't
break free of his grasping hands, she placed her palms flat on his
chest and shoved as hard as she could.  Dazed by her venomous
outburst and caught off guard, Mulder staggered back and crashed into
the desk, striking his hip hard on the sharp corner.  He bit off a
curse and stared at her for a long moment in stunned silence.  Scully
clapped a shaking hand over her mouth, shocked at what she'd done. 
The horrible things she'd said were echoing around the room...

Sickened by the words that had spilled out of her mouth, she
snatched her work from the desk and hurried out of the clinic and
into the frigid, arctic night.  She hadn't gotten far when she heard
the clinic door slam open behind her and Mulder's muffled footsteps
pounding across the snow behind her.  Scully gasped as he grabbed her
by the arm and yanked her around to face him.

"If you want to behave like a child, that's your prerogative," he
bit out in a low, controlled voice.  "But as long as my child's
health depends on yours, you are going to start taking better care of
yourself," he said as he pushed her forgotten parka at her.  She was
shivering as she took the coat from him and had barely shrugged into
it when Mulder grabbed her by the elbow and began marching her toward
their cabin.

"Let's go," he commanded as he steered her through the village.  He
shoved open the cabin door and glared at her until she stepped
inside.  Her eyes tracked over the room, settling briefly on the
cradle that Mulder had built under Warren's careful supervision.  It
was sitting on top of the small kitchen table and she could see that
he had been carefully applying a layer of varnish to the smooth wood.
Her eyes traced over the details of the tiny cradle and all of the
fight went out of her.  God... she was a bitch, the worst.  Scully
felt sick inside.  She stole a look at Mulder and her heart sank anew
at the stiff set of his shoulders and the locked jaw.  She could well
imagine what he was thinking...

******************

So angry... so furious.  No, past furious.  Goddamn fucking ready-to-
explode-furious.  Because he had let it go on too long... had not put
his foot down sooner.  Taking deep breaths wasn't helping.  Clenching
his fists didn't work.  Mulder stood in the center of their cabin and
forced himself not to pick up the entire kitchen table and fling it
across the room.

She had no right.  No right to endanger her health in this way.  No
right to put such a strain on herself and on his child.  No right to
refer to herself as nothing more than an incubator, Jesus... No right
to get pissy about the concern of their friends and family, who just
wanted to help in whatever small way they could... just wanted to
feel a part of it all.

As he wanted to feel a part...  and didn't.

Mulder was well aware that Scully was doing it all, and he hated the
feeling that all he'd done was provide the sperm that got her with
baby.  He couldn't help her with the vaccine because he didn't know
jack shit about it.  When he'd found the vial in the pocket of his
parks he'd been thrilled to no end, knowing he'd finally been able to
offer more than his reproductive talents.  When even the vial
contents failed to produce what Scully so desperately needed, Mulder
had felt the stirrings of failure all over again.  

It had been damned frustrating... he'd been damned frustrated for
the last six months.  And his anger was irrational because on one
level of his consciousness he could understand exactly why she was
feeling this way.  He knew Scully better than she thought.  Knew what
drove her; knew her passions and her failings and the way she
expected perfection from herself all the time.  Knew the way she beat
herself up for being lacking in any way.  He knew...

But it didn't change the fact that she was slowly killing herself,
and their child.  And that made him so blindingly furious that he
couldn't act in a rational manner; couldn't stay calm.  He sucked in
a harsh breath as he faced Scully, and strove for an even tone.
Shrugging out of his parka he hung it on a hook by the door.  

"Why don't you get changed," he said quietly as he jerked his head
toward the bedroom.  "I'm going to clean this up." He began tamping
down the lid on the can of varnish and cleaning his brushes.  Scully
hung her head and nodded, dejectedly walking into the bedroom.  She
methodically washed her face and brushed her teeth in the bathroom
and was buttoning up her pajama top when Mulder walked into the room.
Scully sat down on the edge of the mattress and watched as he
prepared for bed.  

Mulder peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the chair
that sat in one corner.  He bent at the waist and tugged off his
socks, sending them sailing after the shirt.  She watched the light
from the bedside lamp play over the smooth muscles of his back as he
unfastened and stepped out of his jeans.  He rolled the heavy denim
into a ball and threw it across the room.  Scully jerked back at the
unexpected violence of his gesture.  His hands settled on his hips
and he tilted his head back as he struggled for control of his
emotions.  She saw his shoulders lift and fall in a long-suffering
sigh before he finally turned to face her.

"Why?" he asked quietly.  His face was a blend of anger, hurt and
confusion.  "I don't understand," he told her softly.  "I don't
understand how you could say such hateful things."  And she knew his
mind had locked onto the word 'incubator' and all of the horrible
connotations that word invoked.  He shook his head and looked to her
for an answer.

Scully knotted her fingers in her lap and twisted them as she tried
to make sense of it to herself.  He seemed to be ignoring the fact
that she had brutally shoved him out of her way.  It was the first
time either of them had ever laid hands on the other in anger and she
could still hear his muffled curse as his hip had collided painfully
with the corner of the desk. She had heard the nasty accusations and
bitterness flowing out of her with every word that she had spoken and
she didn't know that she would be able to explain it.  But she knew
she had to try.  She had broken something between them tonight with
her careless choice of words and the violence of her actions and it
was up to her to explain and fix it.

She cast about in her mind for the reason for her sudden outburst.
She supposed she could blame it on pregnancy hormones and while she
was sure that had a played a part, it didn't excuse or explain her
behavior.  She could feel the hurt emanating from Mulder in palpable
waves and she struggled to put into words that which had been
plaguing her for so long.

"I'm afraid," she said quietly.  That was it in a nutshell.  She was
afraid.  Deeply, unbelievably afraid.

Mulder stared at her, processing her explanation and finding it
wanting.  "Of what?" he asked in a cool, quiet tone.  Scully closed
her eyes, knowing that she was to blame for the loss of the gentle
warmth that usually colored his voice.

"Of failing," she whispered.  "Of letting everyone down.  Of not
being good enough."  She was rocking on the edge of the mattress and
let the words pour out.  "Everyone is counting on me, Mulder. 
Everyone is waiting for me to come up with this vaccine and I can't
do it.  I'm close.  I'm so damn close but I just can't figure out
what is wrong.  I check and recheck my calculations and run the tests
over and over again and I still don't seem to be able to break
through."

Mulder stepped a little closer to the bed.  "Scully," he began,
stopping when she held up a forestalling hand.  She needed to say it
all, admit to everything that had been festering inside of her for so
long.  If he interrupted her now, she might never finish.

"I don't want to be the mother of the future, Mulder," she said
softly.  "It's too much.  I just want a healthy, normal baby," she
told him.  "I'm tired of everyone offering advice and suggestions." 
Mulder frowned, but spoke in a quiet voice.

"They have a vested interest in our baby's health," he reminded her.
"And they just want to help."  Scully nodded, knowing he was right
but that didn't seem to make it any better.

"They make me feel inadequate," she admitted.  "I tell myself I'm
doing the best I can, but inside I know that I'm letting everyone
down.  I still don't have the vaccine and I'm neglecting you.  And I
haven't had a moment to enjoy this pregnancy," she said.  "I'm
cheating you and the baby and myself out of this miracle because I
just don't have the time for it."   She drew in a deep breath and let
it out slowly.  "I've been living with this unrelenting fear for our
lives and the future for almost a year.  There's no time to deal with
it and I just keep pushing it down and down and down, hoping that it
will just go away, but it doesn't.  It's always there, simmering
under the surface."  

She picked at the quilt covering the bed with nervous fingers. "And
I'm terrified of giving birth," she admittedly in a low, shamed
voice.  Mulder looked at her sharply, stunned by this last admission.
Where in hell had that come from?  

"Sarah and Mary will be..." he began but she cut him off again,
shaking her head and rubbing her hand over her swollen abdomen.  This
fear, this worry was the one she had done her best to bury the
deepest.  She had tried to ignore it and hide it from Mulder but as
her due date drew closer and her belly grew more rounded, she had
felt the fear bubbling to the surface.

"I know. I know," she said quietly.  "But if something goes wrong...
there's no doctor, Mulder. I'm the only doctor in this village," she
reminded him.  "If something goes wrong..." She scrubbed her hands
over her face and looked down at her hand smoothing circles over her
distended belly.  She hadn't wanted him to know that she had been
worrying over this.  She didn't know if it had occurred to him yet
that there would be no one to help them if something went terribly
wrong during the delivery and she had wanted to spare him that
anxiety.

"I've buried myself in the work on the vaccine because if I'm busy
running all those tests and calculations, then I don't have time to
worry about the delivery," she told him, finally admitting, in part,
what drove her to put in all of those horribly long hours at the
clinic.  "I've lived through some of the most unimaginable horrors. 
I'm 37 years old.  I'm about to have my first child - our first child
and I just... shit.  I just want my mother!"  Hot tears pricked her
eyes as she met his startled gaze with her own.  She sniffed, trying
to hold the tears at bay.  She didn't want to use her tears as a way
of softening Mulder's justifiable anger at her earlier behavior but
she could feel them welling up in her eyes anyway.  Scully kept her
face tipped toward the quilt as she finished explaining.  

"She was supposed to be here," she told him.  "I'm afraid to have
this baby without her."  Scully swiped the back of her hand under her
nose and sniffed again.  "She's supposed to tell me that all of my
fears and anxieties are normal.  I need her to hold me the way she
did when I was a little girl and tell me that everything is going to
be okay.  I need my mama..."  As her voice broke over the word 'mama'
everything inside her splintered and she lost it, completely lost it.
She'd had no time to grieve, any more than she'd had time for
anything else.  Everyone needed to mourn the loss of a loved one...
her shoulders hunched and shook as tearing sobs ripped from her
throat.

And just like that, Mulder's anger and frustration vanished into
thin air.  He stared at her, doubled over on the bed, crying as if
her heart would break - and he realized that Scully hadn't truly
cried for her family or herself.  She'd been too busy, trying to save
everyone... she'd forgotten to do what was necessary to save herself.
And if she'd felt she'd failed those people depending upon her...
well, Mulder had failed as well.  And it would stop tonight - he'd
make sure if it, as soon as he got his wife through her troubles. 
Here at last was something he could do for her; something no one else
could accomplish...

Mulder moved to her side and his hands reached for her, pulling her
into his arms, wrapping himself around her as hot tears stung at his
eyes.  She shook so hard with the force of her sobs that she was
gasping for breath, choking.  Mulder pressed her head into his chest
and hung on tightly, fighting to hold himself together for her.  It
was as if he'd lost his family all over again... that black day when
he watched Scully aim her gun at her brother and put him out of an
unending misery.  Scully had lost so much that day - and Mulder had
lost that part of her that had died along with her mother and family.

He wanted it back, badly - wanted nothing more than to give his
mother-in-law back to his wife, placing her right by Scully's side
where she needed to be.  Where Scully needed her to be... he rocked
her as she forced the pain from her heart.

"I want her, every day of my life, Mulder... I wake up in the
morning and I die a little because I can't get to the phone and call
her and ask her if breast-feeding hurts or what sort of vitamins I
should be taking or if craving salt is normal... I can't laugh with
her over some stupid thing I heard on the radio and she can't tell me
about the latest installment of those icky soap operas she used to
watch."  Scully swiped at her streaming eyes and stared up into her
husband's damp, sympathetic gaze.

"I couldn't have her hand be the first one to press against our baby
and remark how hard the little guy is kicking... and I wanted her
hand to be the first, Mulder... I needed it to happen that way." 
Fresh tears slipped over her cheeks and mingled with the ones Mulder
had let slide down his own cheeks.  

"Oh baby, I know, I do, please, Scully... don't.  You're making
yourself sick, baby - please, no more.  I would do anything to bring
her to you, I would - I miss her too."  On the edge of the bed they
sat holding each other and crying all over each other - hot tears
that burned and cleansed at the same time.  Mulder pressed tiny
kisses over her face and he breathed broken reassurances into her
ear, until she shuddered and managed to get herself under control, a
little.  

And when five minutes later she fell asleep in his arms with small
hiccups escaping through her open mouth, Mulder kept a tight grip on
her and drew the quilt over both of them.  Cradling her close, even
in sleep - easing her pain, he hoped.

Easing his own.

*****************



~ Chapter Thirty Four ~


In the few weeks since Krycek's discovery of their refuge and his
death, Bill Scully had been afforded plenty of time to think.  The
guilt he'd carried ever since that fateful day, that he should have
been in the village to defend it - well, it wouldn't completely go
away.  Sometimes he'd close his eyes and his imagination would take
off running, providing him with unwelcome footage of Matty, in
various stages of unspeakable violence:  lying in a bloody little
heap on the snow while that bastard carted Dana away... Matty
screaming in pain as he was poked and prodded in ways that Bill could
barely fathom, by an unfeeling and hostile alien task force... Matty,
dead.  Always, dead.  His sister, dead - her body torn open and her
child wrenched from her, to provide the alien colonizers with viable
testing fodder.  Tara, dead - her body left behind with a gun still
gripped in her cold hands, dead because she aimed a weapon at the
enemy and missed...  

Bill couldn't stop it - and it was slowly driving him mad.  

Outwardly anyone would have been hard-pressed to find anything wrong
with him.  Maybe he was a little quiet, even for Bill - but so they
all were, these days.  The vaccine was still eluding Dana and Mary;
everyone was sick of the darkness and suffering from some form of
cabin fever.  Spring was here but the bulk of the day was still dark,
although they were slowly gaining minutes and it was warmer.  The
snow still lay thick and heavy on the ground and would not melt off
completely in the more shaded areas, even come summer.  

It had just been a long winter for everyone - and worrying about the
next danger to their existence wasn't helping to make the wait for
summer any easier.  Summer brought lots of daylight and hopefully,
sunlight - eighty-seven days of it.  Bill yearned for it, as much as
he dreaded it - because summer would be warm and when it was warm the
insects came out - and where there were insects there might be
honeybees.  Though he knew they were reasonably safe living above the
Range... it was hard not to worry.

He couldn't talk to Tara about his worries; she was trying to hold
it together same as the rest of them.  Besides, Bill had a feeling
she knew.  Tara was intuitive where her family was concerned and she
understood the way his mind functioned, God help her.  She would also
leave him alone until he was ready to come to her about it.  Tara
always knew when to back off.

Besides, Bill's worries had gone beyond the bees and had morphed
into flat-out depression.  More and more he found himself thinking
about his mother, and Charlie.  He awoke in the morning with just a
moment of imbalance, thinking he was back in his comfortable bed in
his comfortable quarters in Norfolk - then that small lump in the
middle of the mattress would dig into his back and the dim room would
be chilly and the air would smell of firesmoke and creosote... And
the thick flannel sheets underneath him brought it home better than
anything else that he was not in Norfolk and would never see Norfolk
again... never see his mother and his brother, again.

Bill Scully needed closure in a big way - and in all the months
since his family's death he'd been unable to get what he needed.  

**********************

"OWWW, shit!"  Mulder shoved his wounded thumb into his mouth and
glared at the offensive hammer that had just injured him.  It had
slipped out of his gloved hand and had landed with stunning force on
his poor thumb, bypassing the carpenter nail and making jarring
contact with his thumbnail.  Mulder threw down the hammer and
regarded Bill with impatient eyes, envious of the way his brother-in-
law was not only twice as graceful with a hammer but also more adept
at holding steady to a slippery roof.  His patch of shingles were
more evenly laid, as well... and Mulder perched precariously on the
sloped roof of the clinic with a flattened thumb and uneven, sloppy
shingles.  

Shit... Well, at least he hadn't fallen off the roof - yet - he
supposed that would come next, when he'd try to climb down.  He
peered at Bill's downcast face and waggled his wet thumb at him. 
Bill didn't even look up, so focused on the nails he hammered with
precise aim on the neatly laid shingles that he seemed oblivious to
anything else.  Mulder shrugged and wiped his sore thumb on his snow
pants, ready to call it quits for the day.  He straightened himself
carefully and took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air, absently
noticing that it was mid-afternoon and the sun was holding steady. 
They were gaining seven minutes a day; spring was definitely in the
air.  April 6... God, hard to believe. Just about a year ago, this
whole mess had begun, for them... Mulder spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Doesn't seem possible, Bro - a year since we first started figuring
it out.  Where has the time flown?   Almost a year ago today, we were
admitting to ourselves the need to get the hell out of Dodge.  April
6..."  At the mention of the date, Bill's head jerked up and his eyes
narrowed as he stared at Mulder, digesting the only piece of the
monologue he'd actually heard.  He mumbled.

"Did you say today's April 6, Mulder?"  There was a raw edge to
Bill's tone that Mulder couldn't help but notice.  He nodded at the
other man and re-adjusted his ass on the cold shingles.

"Yeah.  April 6, today.  All day.  So what?"

Bill shuddered.  So what, indeed?  Nothing much... only his mother's
birthday, that was all.  His mother, Maggie.  His wonderful,
beautiful young mother who adored sterling roses in a silver vase
that she'd always fill with the gorgeous lavender blooms that their
dad always brought home to her every April 6 - or sent to her from
wherever his travels had flung him.  Maggie Scully's birthday...
Mother.  She would be fifty-nine years young today... Bill shook
harder, feeling himself begin to break off into little pieces, there 
on the roof of the Mt. Vu'luk clinic... and from a distance he heard
Mulder's concerned, "Bill?  Bro, you okay?"  

No... Bill was definitely NOT okay.  Nothing that happened today,
nothing he could dwell upon would make today okay for him.  Because a
year ago today the Scully family was happy, and whole - as whole as
it had been in the years since his dad's and his sister's deaths. 
Twelve months ago today Charlie was preparing himself to become the
father of a son.  Fifty-two weeks ago today his mother was putting
the finishing touches on the embroidery of the Scully christening
gown, originally made for Rachel and re-decorated with each new
grandchild's birth.   From Rachel to Matty and then to Katie... then
sent back for Meggie who got pink ribbons... and Joshua would wear
bright yellow chicks when it was his turn - Bill remembered how cute
those little chicks looked on the gown when it was finished.  He
remembered...

Because three hundred and sixty-five days ago today his darling
nieces each grabbed a phone extension and yelled into the receiver,
"Happy Birthday, Grandma!"  So loudly their little voices could be
heard above the din of Matty pounding on a Tupperware bowl in his
grandmother's kitchen.  And Bill was sitting at his mother's kitchen
table eating delicious birthday cake that Tara had baked, while his
mother giggled over the phone with her granddaughters and Meggie
dozed in Tara's arms.  He remembered the sweet pleading in Jeannie's
voice when she finally got a turn speaking to all of them, and begged
him, "Bill, promise you'll all make it out for the christening!" 
He'd promised... Yeah, he hadn't broken it either, had he?  No Siree.
He'd come to see them... Jesus Lord, he'd kept his word.

Except he came without Tara, and without the kids... he'd come with
Dana, and Mulder and Skinner in a mad dash from Norfolk to Myrtle
Beach with the threat of bees on their tail.  A month before the
scheduled christening, he'd come.

And had found the end of his world, as he'd known it...  

From a far distance he heard Mulder's shout of warning as the force
of his shaking caused him to slip sideways.  Too numb to know he was
falling off the roof, Bill's eyes had squeezed shut, keeping the
tears locked under his lids... and Mulder managed to grab his arm at
the very last second, and haul him over to safety.  At the touch of
his brother-in-law's hands Bill shattered; he broke.  He allowed
himself to be pulled into Mulder's strong arms and he buried his face
in Mulder's parka, and the sobs he choked out were so thick Mulder
could barely understand the words.

"Jesus, oh, God... he didn't make it, Mulder.  He didn't get... I
can't..."  A heaving shudder, and Bill scrubbed at his eyes hard,
fighting to get the words out.  "Joshua... no christening for him. 
It was supposed to be at two months... he'd had a cold and they'd
postponed it.  We were all gonna go down and be there.  That's why
Mom went early - to help Jeannie because they'd all come down with
this crappy cold.  Dana hadn't thought she'd be able to make it - now
I know why she sounded so distracted that day, when Mom called her. 
Fuck, it's not as if she had anything pressing on her mind, huh?" 
Bill clutched Mulder's arms as it all washed over him; the
significance of not only his mother's birthday but the sure knowledge
that Joshua Scully had died unbaptized.  

And he sobbed anew... in his brother-in-law's arms Bill sobbed like
a baby.  Mulder held his big, trembling frame and felt the tears
standing in his own eyes slip over the rims and roll down his chapped
face.  There wasn't a thing he could do for him, for this man he'd
learned to love like a brother - the brother he'd never been meant to
have.  The brother his warring parents had never been able to give
him, after Samantha's birth.  Everything Mulder had lost over the
years, his sister and his father, and mother too - it dwindled into
nothing compared to what this man had lost.  And Scully, as well. 
Mulder held fast to Bill and his low, broken words washed over them
both.

"Bill, shhh.  I know, Jesus I know.  I loved your mother too, Bill -
she was so kind to me after my own mother died.  And I would have
given anything to meet Charlie, and Jeannie and the kids.  Anything. 
I wanted them to be my family, too... all of you, Bro.  All of you,
my family.  I looked forward to it, I really did."  Mulder cradled
Bill's head against his parka and let the big guy purge it all out,
helpless to give him any sort of relief other than a shoulder to cry
on... knowing just how close to the edge he really was.  And it went
beyond perching on a slippery roof, about to fall off... because if
Bill fell he'd plummet far more than just a story and a half... 

He'd never come back.  Mulder knew - Mulder had almost gone there a
few times, himself.  Scully had saved him, had pulled him back.  So
many times, she'd pulled him back from the edge.  And there was no
way in Hell he was going to let her brother - HIS brother - fall.  

Not now - not after all they'd been through...  Mulder gripped Bill
tightly and tugged him closer, away from that slippery edge.  He
listened to the broken pain pouring out of the big, tough Navy man,
who had only recently learned to enjoy whatever life tossed out - the
way they'd all learned, since coming to the village.  And he wondered
bitterly which of them would be next, to lose it... for as busy as
they'd all been especially the last six months, there had been no
time for vital closure.  No time to grieve, likewise no way to
celebrate the wonderful traits of their lost loved ones.  Mulder
pressed a hand into Bill's shoulder and pushed him a little, until he
could see into his brother-in-law's ravaged face, speaking softly but
firmly to him.

"Bill, listen to me.  They're not gone, never completely gone, can
you see that?  A little bit of them lives on, in you and in Scully -
in your children.  You find a way to keep it alive and it'll go on
forever, each new generation of Scully children mirroring the very
best of Maggie and Charlie Scully.  You'll look into your
granddaughter's eyes someday and your mother's beautiful face and
strong spirit will shine out at you and give you cause to rejoice. 
And you'll tell your children about their grandma, and their Uncle
Charlie.  You'll show them pictures of their cousins - I'd bet you
have some in your wallet, like any proud uncle.  And they'll get to
know them, through you and the memories you keep alive."    He stared
into Bill's drenched eyes, seeing his wife's blue orbs as well as
Bill's gazing sadly back at him.  Mulder held Bill's shoulders and
repeated to him what he'd told Scully, all those months ago the night
he'd held her and comforted her when she'd felt lost and motherless.

"There is a time for everything, Bill - I said this to your sister,
not so long ago.  Today you may mourn... tomorrow you may laugh. 
Tomorrow, you'll think about your mother and you'll smile, and when
you look into Matty's face you'll see her there.  Please, hang onto
that, okay?  Please?"  He held Bill's eyes, his own earnest and
filled with caring and concern - and when Bill nodded slowly, and
wiped at his face with his gloved hand, Mulder released the sigh of
relief he'd not even known he'd been holding.  Bill managed a small
smile, and when he spoke his words were typical Bill Scully - and
Mulder was never more happy to be able to admit that for once,
'typical Bill Scully' sounded damn good...

"So Mulder... how often in the immediate future will you be using
this outburst of mine against me?  I'd like to know up front so I can
practice my ass-kicking techniques..."  Mulder chuckled and gripped 
Bill, hard - once... then let him go and picked up their hammers, 
pointing one toward the direction of the ladder propped against 
the side of the building.

"Well, let's get off this goddamned roof first, Scully - then you
can start giving me cause for blackmail."

They crawled over to the ladder and started down, Bill going first 
so he could hold the ladder for Mulder.  And his voice floated up to
his brother-in-law as he reached the ground and locked his hands
around the rungs.  "You're not gonna tell anyone I let you hug me, 
are you, Mulder?  I got a rep to protect..."  

Mulder snorted as he stepped carefully down the slippery rungs.
Casting a smirking look over his shoulder at the big man holding 
the ladder, he flapped his eyelashes at him and murmured sexily, 
"I won't tell if you won't, Big Boy."  Bill shook his head in 
disgust.

"You're a riot, Mulder..."

*********************

Scully rubbed her eyes and looked up at the clock on the wall.  Mary
had taken the day off to stay home with her father who had been
feeling a little under the weather that morning and Mulder would be
stopping by soon.  They had come to an agreement after their argument
- he would not badger her about her work and eating habits during the
day and she agreed to stop working at a decent hour to go home, eat
and rest.  At the end of each day, Mulder would show up to walk her
home from the clinic and as her pregnancy progressed and the baby
grew larger, throwing off her balance and causing her back to ache
terribly, she was grateful for his strong arm to lean on as she
tiredly made her way home each evening.

With the discovery of the vial of the original vaccine, Scully had
taken a small sample of the precious stock to study and break down
the chemical components of the vaccine.  Two months later she was
still trying to duplicate it.  She was so close but an exact match
continued to elude her.  Scully studied her latest effort under the
microscope, making careful notes on a scrap of paper.  Pushing her
chair away from the scope she walked to her computer and tiredly
entered the figures into a program that she and Mary had discovered
on the Internet.  Fearing that they would lose access to the Internet
at any time, they had downloaded the program and had modified it to
suit their own purposes.  Scully stood and rubbed a hand over her
back, digging her fists into the aching muscles just above her hips. 
At seven months, the baby was already so big.  Scully didn't even
want to consider how huge she would be by the time she was ready to
deliver.  Mulder had told her he'd been a big baby... it stood to
reason their boy would take after his daddy.  

Scully began listlessly stacking her notes and organizing her desk,
allowing the computer to finish running the comparison so that she
could cross this latest attempt off her list and try again from
another angle the next day.  

She was gaping at the monitor in shock when Mulder pushed open the
door to her office.

"Ready, Scully?" he asked as he poked his head through the doorway.
"Scully?"  He hurried across the room when he saw his wife clutch the
desk and carefully lower herself into a chair.

"What is it?" he asked as he squatted beside her chair.  Laying a
hand on her belly, he called to her again.  "Scully!" he cried. 
"What's wrong? Is it the baby?"  Scully shook her head dazedly and
looked down into his frightened face.

"It matches," she said in a tiny voice.  Mulder's forehead creased
in concerned confusion and his eyes followed her trembling finger as
it pointed toward the computer.  He squinted at the screen and leaned
closer to read the data.  Two sets of numbers ran in incomprehensible
columns down either side of the screen.  At the bottom of the screen,
however, he easily understood the information displayed above the
blinking cursor.

"99.9% match rate," he read aloud.  He turned his head slowly and
gaped into his wife's stunned eyes.  "Does this mean... have you..."
His voice trailed off as she nodded slowly and leaned forward to
press shaking fingers to the screen.  A single tear slid down her
cheek and she lifted her hands to her mouth in an attempt to still
the wobbling of her chin.  Her eyes remained locked on the monitor
for several long seconds and then suddenly she burst into motion,
quickly printing out the data and saving the file.  She stood as the
printer began grinding away, spitting out page after page of data and
she clutched the papers tightly, her eyes devouring the proof that
she held in her hands.

Mulder rose and stood before her, bending his knees to bring his
eyes level with hers.  Scully looked up from the printouts in her
hand, meeting his excited gaze with eyes dilated with disbelief. 
Mulder wrapped his arms around her hips and he lifted her from the
floor.  Startled, she threw her arms around his neck as he brought
her face up to his.

"You did it," he murmured.  He kissed her, tasting the salt of the
tears that streamed down her cheeks.  "I'm so proud of you," he
whispered against her damp lips.  Scully tightened her grip around
his neck and returned his kiss.  She shrieked as he spun her in an
impromptu and excited dance.

"Oh God, oh God," she whispered against his shirt as he set her back
on her feet and drew her close to his chest.  Her legs began shaking
as reaction set in and Mulder eased her back into her chair.  He
knelt on the floor in front of her and stroked his hands down her
arms and traced gentle, calming patterns over her knees with the tips
of his fingers until she settled down and caught her breath.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he cupped her cheek in his
hand.  "Let's make sure that everything is saved before we shut the
computer down for the night," he suggested softly.  Scully looked
from him to the computer and her mouth opened and closed several
times without issuing a sound.   She scrubbed her hands over her face
and looked longingly down into the papers still clutched in her hands.

"But..." she began only to fall silent when her husband laid gentle
fingers over her lips.

"Let it go for the rest of the night, Scully," he suggested.  "I
know that you'll be back here bright and early tomorrow morning. 
It's waited this long, you can start in earnest tomorrow," he
promised.  "Right now," he said with the beginnings of a grin on his
face, "we've got to get everyone together so that we can share the
good news!"  

A wide smile burst over Scully's face and she leaned forward,
throwing her arms around him again, hugging him tightly.  'Almost
there,' she chanted in her head.  'I'm almost there.'  She nodded and
placed the printouts carefully into a folder and stood, reaching for
her parka.

"Let's go home," she said, holding out her hand.

********

Days passed in a blur of activity as Scully refined, analyzed and
ran every test she could think of on the vaccine, each time yielding
the same result - a near perfect match to the sample left in the vial
found in Mulder's parka.  Mary assisted her in running the various
tests and cross-referencing the calculations against the information
already stored in the computer and Mulder contributed by making sure
she ate and by forcing her to curl up on the small sofa in the office
each afternoon to rest.  He would slide her shoes from her aching
feet and rub them until her eyes would flutter shut.  He guarded her
sleep and woke her each day after one hour - as promised.  She would
rise from her nap refreshed and ready to begin again.

Finally there was only one test left to run.  As Elder Honea blessed
the food at the Sunday gathering, Scully stood up to address the
villagers.

"Mary and I have finished our work in the clinic on the vaccine,"
she began, smiling gratefully at Mary.  "We are as sure as we can
possibly be that this vaccine is a match to the one that saved my
life three years ago."  She licked her lips and looked around the
table at the faces of family and friends who were watching and
listening with great interest.

"There's only one way to be sure that the vaccine works," she said. 
"And that is to test it on a someone who has not been exposed to the
virus before."  She drew in a deep breath and blew it back out.  "I
would test it on one of the animals first, but the virus does not
seem to affect animal life in the same way that it does human life." 
Scully looked down and studied the rough wood of the table, tracing
the whorls in the grain of the wood as she spoke.  Swallowing hard,
she looked up again.

"I need a volunteer."

Skinner leaned forward immediately. "I'll do it," he offered. 
Mary's hand tightened around his.  She had instinctively known that
he would be the first to volunteer and she was fighting back
frightened tears when Sophie pushed away from the table and stood.

"You will do no such thing, young man," she stated regally. 
Everyone turned to look at the village matriarch as she spoke.  "You
have a family to take care of," she said.  Directing her attention to
Scully, she spoke quietly but commandingly.  

"I do not have a death wish, but I am an old woman," she said.  "You
have toiled over your work for many months now and I trust you when
you say that you believe that the vaccine is safe."  She looked down
at her gnarled hands.  "Still, this is an alien life form that we are
speaking of and as you say, we will not know for sure until it is
tested on someone."  She looked at each of the dear faces gathered
around the table and smiled.  "I have led a good life.  A long life."
Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded decisively.  "You will test your
work on me."  Her voice was firm and tolerated no argument, forcing
slow nods of assent from everyone around the table.

******** 

The next morning Scully arrived at Sophie's cabin. The old woman met
her at the door with a smile and a cup of sweet tea.  

"I know that Sarah has been brewing her special tea for you every
morning," she said with a knowing grin at Scully's poorly hidden
grimace.  "The tea is good for you and the baby," she chided and
Scully nodded.

"I know," she sighed.  "But the taste..." She shuddered, happy to
have slipped past Sarah's door without having to suffer through her
daily dose.  Sophie laughed.

"Sit down, child," she said.  "We'll drink our tea and you'll
explain to me what you are going to do."  She sank down into a wooden
rocker near the fireplace and motioned for Scully to sit in the
matching chair on the other side of the hearth.  Scully gratefully
sat down and cradled the warm cup of tea between her hands.

"It works like any inoculation you've ever received," she said. "The
vaccine is made from weakened or dead cells from the actual virus,
but should not be strong enough to cause a severe infection," she
explained. "Your immune system will recognize the weakened form of
the virus as an invader and will trigger the production of antibodies
in your blood.  The antibodies will fight against the invading virus
and build up an immunity against it to protect you in the event you
should be exposed to the real virus later on."  Scully looked at the
old woman to make sure that she understood.  Sophie nodded
thoughtfully.

"How will you know if the vaccine is successful?" she wondered
aloud.  "Do you simply assume that the vaccine works if I don't keel
over?" she asked with an impudent grin.  Scully's hand tightened
convulsively around the arm of the rocker and she choked on the
mouthful of tea that she had just swallowed.  Sophie laughed and
leaned forward, placing one wrinkled hand on the younger woman's leg.

"I'm sorry, my dear," she apologized.  "I know that you take this
very seriously and that you are afraid," she said.  "But you should
not worry so," she told her.  "God has brought you to this place and
He has delivered you from evil time and again," she said.  "He
intends for you to do wonderful things, Dana," she murmured wisely. 
"You were meant, I think, to save the world."  Sophie tapped a gentle
finger against Scully's temple.  "First, by using this," she said
softly.  Then Sophie curved her hand around the swollen mound that
protected the baby.  "And through this," she intoned quietly.  "He
has blessed you with many gifts, Dana."  Scully blinked back tears
and she lifted Sophie's hand into her own.  She studied the papery
skin covering the still strong hand and brought it to her lips,
pressing a kiss onto the aged knuckles.  One fat tear brimmed and
splashed over her lashes as she whispered her thanks.

Sophie stood and drew Scully to her feet.  "Let's get this show on
the road," she said. 

*************** 




~ Chapter Thirty Five ~


Scully had cautioned the rest of the villagers that she would be
placing Sophie under a strict quarantine until she was sure that the
vaccine had not caused any lasting ill effects on her patient.  After
the vaccine was administered, she kept careful watch over the old
woman, alert for any signs that she had infected her with, rather
than protected her from the virus.  By mid-afternoon Sophie was
running a low fever and she told Scully that she felt mildly achy. 
Scully helped her into bed and kept a close eye on her vital signs. 
Her blood pressure was slightly elevated but her temperature did not
rise past one hundred degrees and she did not complain of dizziness
or nausea.  

The two women passed the day by talking of friends andfamily and 
Scully entertained her with some of the most colorful cases that 
she and Mulder had investigated during their careers with the FBI.  
She steered clear of talk of consortiums and alien invasions, 
choosing instead to regale the old woman with stories of
flukemen and vampires.  When Mulder - the only other person permitted
inside the quarantined cabin - arrived late in the afternoon, he
found both women dissolved in tears of laughter as Scully recounted
the look of studied casualness and barely repressed panic on Mulder's
face as he tried to shake a yellow bilious substance from his fingers.

Scully was heartened as Sophie's temperature continued to hold
steady, never climbing above the hundred degree mark. The old woman's
eyes sparkled as Mulder brought their dinner into the bedroom.  She
sat, comfortably propped up against a mound of pillows and ate the
soup and sandwiches he had prepared with gusto and watched with a
glad heart as he tended to his pregnant wife with gentle hands and
loving eyes.  He offered to keep watch over Sophie through the night
as he guided Scully into the small second bedroom and helped her
settle onto the bed for a much-needed rest.

And when morning arrived, Scully's heart beat furiously in her
breast as she read the thermometer, which told her that Sophie's
fever was gone.  The older woman was spry and was moving quickly
about her home, declaring one day spent in bed 'quite enough, thank
you.'

Scully drew a vial of blood from her patient and kissed her papery
cheek, promising to let her know the results of the blood test as
soon as possible.  An hour later, Scully lifted shining eyes from the
microscope to meet the concerned gaze of her husband.  She nodded
slowly and stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist,
whispering softly into his flannel covered chest.

"It worked."

********

Scully quietly allowed Mulder to fuss over her as he buckled her
seatbelt low across her belly.  She knew that he would have preferred
that she stay in Mt. Vu'luk and let Mary oversee the inoculations of
the survivors living in Barrow and the surrounding villages, but when
she had stated that she would be going along to supervise the
distribution of the vaccine, he had only asked if she was sure that
she was up to the trip.  When she assured him that she was, he had
yielded to her decision.  The flight to Barrow was a short one and
although she was almost always tired now, the nausea was thankfully a
thing of the past.  She smiled and patted his hand reassuringly as he
dropped into the seat next to hers and buckled himself in.  

Skinner twisted in his seat to look over his shoulder at them.
"Ready?" he asked.  Mulder nodded and gave him a thumbs-up signal. 
Skinner glanced toward Mary in the co-pilot seat and at her nod, he
flipped a number of switches, powering up the helicopter and sending
the powerful blades overhead into motion.  

Scully had tested the vaccine on two more volunteers after it had
produced the necessary antibodies in Sophie's blood.  When the
vaccine had yielded similar results in all three cases, Scully felt
confident enough to vaccinate the entire population of Mt. Vu'luk. 
She wouldn't know for certain that the vaccine was completely
effective against the virus unless and until an inoculated person
became infected with the virus and successfully managed to fight it
off.  Scully knew that she would be content never to put the vaccine
to that test.

Sophie and Scully had contacted the survivors in Barrow over the ham
radio and Scully had explained to them that a vaccine against the
virus would be available when she and Mary were able to produce a
large enough quantity.  And as soon as the necessary quantity of the
vaccine was prepared, plans were set into motion for the four of them
to make the trip to Barrow.

The survivors were waiting for them when they arrived at the
community center.  Mulder noted that there seemed to be a number of
faces that he didn't recognize from his previous trip to Barrow.  Joe
Manno explained that survivors from some of the more remote, outlying
areas and smaller villages had fled to Barrow over the long, winter
months seeking refuge and security in a larger community.

Scully and Mary set their equipment out on a table and Mulder smiled
gratefully when one of the men dragged a high-backed stool across the
hall for Scully to sit on.  He and Skinner collected the used needles
and bagged them for disposal as Mary and Scully inoculated every
resident of Barrow against the virus.  Although the process should
not have taken longer than a couple of hours, the pace was slowed as
the people of Barrow stopped to thank Scully or lay a hand on her
burgeoning stomach, offering prayers and blessings for the baby's
health and long life.  Scully blushed and stammered as she tried to
deflect the praise away from her, explaining that she could never
have done it without Mary and the help of all of her friends and
family in Mt. Vu'luk.  

Mulder's heart was bursting with love and pride as he watched his
wife efficiently administer the vaccine to each person patiently
waiting in line.  Her hands were gentle and her smile was quick and
genuine as she put each of her new patients at ease, quietly
explaining the vaccine and how it would work to those who inquired.  

When they were finished and Scully and Mary were packing up the
remaining vaccine and unused needles and discussing babies with some
of the women, Mulder and Skinner spent a few minutes talking to a
small group of men.

"We're running low on basic supplies," Mulder said.  The men nodded
and Joe offered a solution.

"There is a supermarket/general store about four blocks from here,"
he said.  "It was well-stocked before the invasion began last August.
You should be able to find what you need there."  Mulder thought it
over quickly.  

"We have money, but I don't know that it's worth anything any more,"
he said honestly.  Joe glanced over his shoulder.  Scully's bright
hair stood out as she was surrounded by a small group of Inupiaq
women.  The petite white woman was one of them now, Inupiaq by choice
and by heart.  Joe smiled as he turned back to Mulder.

"We can never pay you enough for what you have given to us today,"
he said slowly.  "You will take what you need.  Nobody here has
needed to use money for months and I don't see where that will change
for us in the future.  Please, help yourself to whatever you want." 
Mulder smiled gratefully and the two men shook hands.

Thirty minutes later the foursome made their way to the North Slope
General Store and Marketplace.  Skinner twisted the doorknob and
found it unlocked.  Bells tinkled overhead as they pushed the door
open and stepped into the darkened store; Mary located a switch on
the wall.  Light flooded the store to reveal well-stocked shelves of
dry goods, clothing, shoes and other basic supplies.  Skinner and
Mulder found several empty boxes under the counter and they carefully
began to make their selections, taking only what they absolutely
needed.  Toothpaste, deodorant, soap and other basic necessities were
placed in the boxes along with flour, sugar, salt and other staples
that they felt they would need.  

Mary and Scully moved to the clothing department and selected
several outfits for Michael, Matthew and Meggie who were rapidly
outgrowing their clothes.  They chose several toys as well.  Balls
and bats, board games and a baby doll were packed into the box.  Mary
was browsing through a rack of shoes, looking for a pair of sneakers
for Michael to wear during the approaching summer months, when she
saw Scully stop before a display of baby goods.  She watched her
friend's hands drift over the tiny clothes and she glanced across the
room to see Mulder watching his wife.

"Go ahead and take what you need," Mary encouraged.  Scully
wistfully fingered a beautifully stitched blanket and patted a pile
of adorable little outfits in pretty pastel blues and greens and
yellows, cheerfully decorated with smiling animals.  Instead she
settled on several one-piece rompers and a large stack of cloth
diapers, putting them into the box before resolutely moving away from
the display.  Mary's eyes met Mulder's... he nodded and winked at her
and she quickly snatched up the blanket and grabbed a number of the
gaily-adorned outfits and several plush, stuffed animals, pushing
them into the box and covering them up with their other selections. 
Her broad grin was echoed in the one her best friend's husband
flashed at her.

Seven hours after they had arrived, they exchanged farewells with a
small group of people who had come to see them off.  Scully promised
to come to Barrow on a more regular basis after the baby was born to
see to its residents' medical needs.  After a round of hugs and
profuse thanks, they climbed into the helicopter and buckled
themselves into their seats for the short trip back to Mt. Vu'luk.

********** 

Mary awoke later that night to a terrible pounding on the door to
her cabin.  Throwing off the blankets, she ran to the door and yanked
it open to find a wild-eyed Mulder waiting.  He was shivering in the
cold, night air and she grabbed him with both hands and pulled him
into the cabin.

"What is it?" she demanded, glancing over her shoulder as her father
and Michael poked their heads out of the bedroom they shared.  Mulder
clutched her hands in both of his.

"It's Scully," he said in a desperate voice.  "Something's wrong
with the baby!"  His eyes pleaded with her to hurry.  Mary yanked her
hands from his and ran toward her room to get changed.  

"Mulder, go back and wait with Dana," she said.  "I'll be there in a
minute."  He nodded and fled back toward his cabin.  "Michael," she
called and her nephew looked up in surprise.  "Go get Sarah," she
ordered.  "Tell her that something is wrong with Dana and the baby." 
Michael jammed his feet into his boots and yanked his parka from a
peg on the wall, racing to do as he was told.  Mary ripped her
nightgown over her head and dragged on a pair of jeans and a sweater.
Stuffing her feet into her boots, she hurried back into the living
room to grab her own parka.  She spared a helpless glance toward her
father.

"I don't know how long I'll be," she told him.  Her father nodded
knowingly.

"I'll pray," he said quietly and pressed his lips to her forehead. 
"Now hurry," he told her.  She could see the light come on in Sarah's
cabin and she heard Michael's urgent voice carry across the silent
village as he explained the situation to Sarah.

She burst into Mulder's cabin and found Scully curled up in the
center of the bed.  Mulder was wrapped around his wife's body and he
was whispering to her soothingly.  Scully looked up when she heard
Mary enter the room and she held out her hand, her voice breaking on
a sob at the sight of her friend.

"Mary... oh God.  The baby!"  Mary hurried across the room and
clutched Scully's hand in her own.

"Are you in labor, Dana?" she asked as her fingers settled over the
inside of Scully's wrist, checking her pulse.  Her eyes widened as
she felt the frantic throbbing beneath her fingers.  Scully shook her
head and watched her with wide, frightened eyes.

"No," she gasped tearfully.  "But I have some cramps.  And I'm
bleeding."  Everyone looked up as Sarah rushed into the bedroom.  She
sized up the situation quickly and firmly pulled Mulder away from
Scully's side.  He backed up against the wall, his worried eyes never
leaving his wife.  Sarah laid a soothing hand on Scully's shoulder.

"I need you to lay down on your back, Dana," she said softly.  "I
need to examine you."  Scully nodded and her eyes were dark with fear
but she made no attempt to move.

"Come on, sweetheart," Sarah encouraged.  She looked across the bed
at Mulder and he leaned over his wife, crooning to her softly to
stretch out on the mattress and allow Mary and Sarah to examine her. 
She tugged him down onto the bed beside her and buried her face
against his thigh as the two women gently pushed her nightgown up
around her hips and pulled her underwear down her legs.  Their eyes
were grim as they studied the spots of blood staining the cotton
panties.

Sarah hurried into the bathroom and quickly scrubbed her hands under
near-scalding water.  She knelt between Scully's legs and called
softly to the frightened woman, demanding her attention.

"I'm going to examine you," she said gently but firmly.  Scully
nodded and turned her face away again, pressing into her husband,
whose hand stroked her head soothingly.  Mulder's eyes begged the two
women for help.  After everything they'd been through and triumphed
over this past year, he couldn't lose Scully and the baby.  Not now. 
It would surely kill him... 

Mary watched, feeling helpless, as the midwife slid gentle fingers
inside of Scully, probing carefully.  She watched the older woman's
eyes shut as she called on years of experience and skilled hands to
make a diagnosis.  After what seemed an eternity, Sarah withdrew her
fingers and wiped her hands on a towel.  

"The sac has not been ruptured," she announced.  "When was the last
time you felt the baby move?"   

Scully tried to clear her jumbled thoughts.  "About two hours ago,"
she said.  Mary grabbed a stethoscope out of Scully's medical bag and
everyone held their breath as she listened for the baby's heartbeat. 
She closed her eyes in concentration as she counted the rapid beats
of the baby's heart.  

"Sounds good," she declared as she straightened up.  "Do you want to
hear?" she asked.  Scully nodded tearfully and Mulder helped her to
carefully sit up as Mary fit the rubber tips of the stethoscope into
her ears.  A tiny smile trembled on Scully's lips as she heard the
baby's heartbeat.  Mulder looked up at Sarah with concerned eyes,
feeling some relief at the apparent health of their child but still
scared as hell about Scully.

"What is it?"  he asked.  "Why is she bleeding?"  Sarah shrugged,
not unkindly, and put away the stethoscope.

"Tension... stress, change of diet... take your pick."  She affixed
stern eyes on Scully's frightened face.  "You've been overdoing it
for months now," she said.  "And your body is rebelling."  Scully
hung her head and nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks.  Sarah's
face softened and she slid closer, gathering the younger woman's
hands into her own.

"You've taken care of everyone else.  Now you need to take care of
yourself and your baby," she lectured gently.  "Bed rest," she
pronounced.  "Until the baby is born, you are not to go near the
clinic.  Stay off your feet as much as possible."  Sarah smoothed a
tender hand over Scully's bright hair, waiting for her reply.

Scully's mind rebelled at the thought of spending the next month
lying in bed, but she knew she would do whatever was necessary to
ensure the safe delivery of her child.  She nodded dejectedly.

"I know... I will," she said softly.  Glancing up at Mulder, her
eyes filled with tears again.

"I'm so sorry, Mulder," she whispered.  He shook his head and
gathered her into his arms, holding her as if she would shatter into
a million pieces.  He whispered lovingly to her.

"Shh," he murmured into her hair.  "It doesn't matter.  We'll just
do whatever we need to do."  Mary cleared her throat, shaky with
relief herself.

"Let's get you into some clean clothes and change these sheets," she
suggested. Mulder nodded, lifting Scully into his arms and setting
her down on the chair in the corner of the room.  While the two women
put fresh sheets on the bed, he pulled clean underwear and fresh
pajamas from the bureau and helped Scully into the clean nightwear.

When she was settled back in bed, Mary sat down next to her and
placed a warm hand over her stomach.

"I know you're going to go crazy lying here in bed for the next
several weeks," she said knowingly.  "I promise I'll come by every
day." She pressed a kiss to her friend's forehead.  Scully nodded
tearfully and whispered her thanks to both women as they prepared to
take their leave.

"I'll see you out," Mulder said.  He walked them both to the door
with his arms over their shoulders, then took turns hugging each of
them with grateful affection.

"Thank you," he whispered fervently.  "Thank you so much!"  He
kissed them both on their cheeks and watched from his door until they
were safely in their cabins before turning off the lights and
climbing back into bed, curling his body protectively around his wife
and child.   Scully sighed, already in a light doze, exhausted from
the draining anxiety of the day and the panic of the evening.  Mulder
rested his hand underneath the swell of her stomach and smiled into
her hair when the warmth of his palm permeated her skin and within
the comfort of her womb, their child kicked.  Nose buried against
Scully's soft hair, Mulder whispered to their child, "Daddy loves
you, Little One... I'm counting on you to take good care of Mommy..." 

He fell asleep with his wife warming his body and the reassuring
movements of their son calming his soul.

*****************



~ Chapter Thirty Six ~

Scully was bored.  Only midway through the second week of enforced
bed rest, she was ready to tear out her hair.  Mulder would rise up
from their bed every morning and get dressed for the day before
bringing breakfast to her.  After breakfast, he would quickly clean
up, gently remind her that she was to rest and then sweetly kiss her
goodbye before leaving the cabin to go about his daily chores. 
Spring was upon them and the residents of Mt. Vu'luk were taking
advantage of the lengthening days by making repairs to the buildings
before the heavy spring breakup began.  Busy hands were at work in
the greenhouse, sowing the crop that would be harvested in early
summer.  Although Scully did not claim to have a green thumb, she
itched to bury her hands in the loamy soil of the greenhouse;
desperate to breathe in the pungent fragrance of the fertile dirt and
feel the heat of the sun intensified through the glass panels of the
greenhouse roof.  Beverly had explained that there would be a second
planting in about two months' time in which Scully's assistance would
be more than welcome, but that was of little comfort to her at the
moment.

To everyone's delight and no one's surprise Skinner had proposed to
Mary, right in the middle of a Sunday Gathering lunch.  He had jumped
to his feet during dessert, staring down at Mary as she laughed with
Patrick and Beverly seated across from them... and with high color in
his cheeks and no advance warning had grasped her wrist, pulled her
to her feet and dragged her off to the empty schoolroom two doors
down.  Tara, reporting back later that day to Mulder and Scully, had
recalled the shocked Mary with glee, hooting, "They were gone a full
twenty minutes before Walter finally brought her back in, both of
them beet-red."  Mary's eyes had been wide with wonder; she'd opened
her mouth twice to speak but nothing had come out.  Skinner had
finally taken pity on her and had blurted out in a gruff voice.

"We're getting married!"  The room had exploded with excitement,
Skinner caught right in the center of it and turning redder by the
minute... Scully would have given anything to see it.  But she was
missing out on the Sunday Gatherings, as was Mulder who refused to
leave her alone and spent the entire day with her.  

Now a wedding was in the works and the women of the village were
busy with the details as the menu for the reception was discussed and
refined and plans were made to decorate the chapel for the big event,
while Mary patiently stood still and allowed Tara to fuss over the
alterations being made to her dress.  She faithfully stopped in to
visit Scully every day, reporting to her the smallest details of the
wedding planning and while Scully rejoiced in her friend's happiness,
she couldn't help but feel a little left out.  Her own wedding had
been such a rushed and frantic affair... now she worried that her
well-meaning friends and overly-protective husband would not even
allow her out of bed long enough to attend the festivities.

Scully was determined to attend that wedding at any cost.

Winter was over and the village was rousing, bursting to life, while
Scully lay still and the world passed by without her.  The days were
long, with only Nanook for company, and there was little in the form
of entertainment.  She would place a stack of records onto the record
player and the sad, sweet strains of the oldies would whisper through
the room.  Her eyesight had been badly strained over the last several
months as she had spent hours squinting at the computer, pouring over
research manuals and studying her notes without the benefit of her
glasses.  A forgotten novel lying open at the second chapter bore
testament to the fact that reading only produced a headache now.  

Scully sighed and shifted in the bed, drawing a pillow close and
resting the burden of her belly against its soft weight.  The four
walls of the bedroom were closing in on her as she calculated the
time left until her due date.  Scully had too many hours each day on
her hands to think.

And worry.

The day after she had awakened terrified by the sight of the blood
spotting her underwear, Mulder had taken her to the clinic for an
ultrasound.  Mary was waiting for them and with Mulder, helped Scully
to climb onto the bed in the examination room.  Her clothes had been
pushed aside and rearranged and Mary had slathered the gel over her
seemingly enormous belly.  The wand floated over her gel-coated skin
and the baby's heartbeat filled the room.  There was something odd
about the heartbeat, Scully had thought - but then she was
distracted, her attention riveted to the grainy black and white image
displayed on the monitor to her left.

Mary moved the wand slowly over her stomach and pointed to the
screen with her other hand.

"There," she said with a note of relief in her voice.  "You can see
for yourself that everything is fine.  You have a very active baby,"
she smiled, watching the baby's limbs lazily push and twist in
Scully's womb.  Mary glanced over at Mulder's enraptured, but
confused face and she grinned again and began to trace her fingers
over the image on the screen.

"Here you go, Mulder," she said softly.  "Can you see the baby's
feet?" she asked.  He nodded and leaned closer to the screen, his
hand clenched tight around Scully's while Mary continued to point out
his child's features.

"That's the cord," she said, pointing.  "And there," she exclaimed. 
"The baby is sucking his thumb."  A wide smile broke over her face. 
"There's the other arm," she continued.  "And that's..." A puzzled
frown crossed her face and she leaned closer to the screen, moving
the wand over Scully's distended stomach, trying to gain a different
angle and a better view.  

"What is that?" she murmured.  Scully propped herself up on her
elbows as she strained to see the screen. 

"What?" she demanded.  "Mary, what is it?"  Her friend rocked back
on her heels and turned toward the couple looking anxiously at the
monitor.  She licked her lips and turned back to the image on the
screen as she puzzled out what exactly it was that she was seeing. 
Finally, she raised her eyes and a brilliant smile lit up her face.

"Twins!" she exclaimed happily.  Mulder's face registered shock and
then hesitant joy as he peered at the monitor, while Scully's
features were indeterminate and guarded.

"Look," Mary said, pointing to the screen.  A spindly arm and
another head with indistinguishable features peeked out from behind
their baby, its face turned away from them.  Mary smiled again as
Mulder gathered his wife into his arms and buried his face in her
hair.  She quickly typed several commands into the ultrasound's
keyboard, freezing the picture on the screen and printed out a hard
copy.  She eased the door closed behind her as she left to give her
friends some privacy; consequently she did not see the agitated look
on Scully's face as she stared intently over Mulder's shoulder at the
frozen image of the tiny lives growing inside of her.  

Twins... Sweet Jesus.  Mulder was holding her so tenderly and
whispering his awe and wonderment - and unending love for all three
of them - into her hair. And all Scully could hear was Krycek's
taunting voice playing over and over in her head...  

"Is this Agent Mulder's child or something unspeakable growing
inside of you?"

Now, almost ten days later, Scully waited and worried.  A twin? 
What were the chances, even with Spender's interference, that she who
had been previously barren, could suddenly bear not one, but two
healthy babies?  She wondered many things, starting with the
possibility of twins in Mulder's genetic makeup, to the uncertainty
of random fertility anomalies brought on by the procedure
involuntarily performed on her almost two years past. In the lonely
hours of her confinement, she was helpless to put a halt to the
maddening thoughts swirling through her head.  Did this second being
have the same features that she had already memorized of the first? 
The same tiny toes?  The delicate nose and teensy fingers?

Or did her child share the protective environment of its mother's
womb with an abomination, and if so, what would they do?  This second
life was part of her - biologically hers, feeding from her body and
receiving nutrition and life in the same manner as its womb-mate. 
The obvious difference in size worried her to no end, not to mention
the inability to see its little face... 

Scully shifted again in anguish and Nanook raised her head from her
resting place on the floor to climb onto the mattress.  She burrowed
her warm body against the distraught woman and Scully wrapped
trembling arms around the dog, burying her face in the soft, white
fur and sobbing out her fears.  Hours later, when Mulder returned
home, he found Nanook curled up in the center of his bed.  The dog
opened liquid blue eyes and whoofed softly in greeting, careful not
to disturb the woman who had dried her tears on her fur. Mulder
smiled at the peaceful picture they presented, unaware of the
turbulent dreams plaguing his wife's sleep.  He clucked softly at the
faithful dog and pointed to the door, knowing Nanook in her
dedication to Scully would not have moved a muscle.  The poor
sweetheart had to be bursting... the big Husky whined gratefully as
Mulder let her out, and she completed her business neatly and
quickly, loping right back in and climbing up on the bed so gently
and carefully that Scully never stirred.  Mulder sat on the edge of
the bed and made a fuss over Nanook as she settled down once more
close to his wife's side, quite willing to sacrifice the rest of her
day in protective care.  With a sigh of ecstasy at the scratching
behind her ears and a thankful lick of her master's hand Nanook
stretched out and went back to dozing, leaving Mulder free to begin
dinner.

********** 

"Tara!  Wait up!"

Tara spun on a heel and waited for Beverly to catch up with her. 
The glare off the snow made her wish for her sunglasses, but since
they were still sitting on the dash of the Explorer they left in
Deadhorse...  Tara shielded her watering eyes and smiled as Beverly
got closer, almost running in the loose snow.   

"Morning, Beverly!  Just in time.  Come help me gather eggs. Walter
can't do it today; he's helping Manly at the treatment plant."  The
two women fell into step together and walked in the brisk spring
morning.  Sunshine in the AM hours... it was a wonderful thing, Tara
decided.  Small things made her very happy these days - like gaining
ten minutes of daylight a day.  This was a good thing.  She grinned
at Beverly as they walked along, and gestured at the bright sky,
sighing, "Don't you just love it?  Spring is finally here, even if we
still have mounds of snow."  Beverly nodded and smiled at her
friend's enthusiasm.

"Yes, May is the beginning of it.  In just a few weeks we will enter
into the endless day of the summer season.  It is a true celebration
for us.  And speaking of celebrations," she stepped ahead to the barn
and held the door open for Tara, "I wanted to ask you if you'd given
any thought to having a baby shower for Dana.  She's got to be going
nuts, flat on her back in bed all day!  I think we need to entertain
her, if only for one day."

Tara nodded as she walked over to the wall and pulled down the egg
basket, finding a clean cloth to cushion the eggs.  "Yes, I was just
talking to Bill last night.  He spent yesterday afternoon with her
and I gather she really tried his patience - what there is of it!"
she laughed.  "You can certainly tell they're brother and sister. 
They played cards and took turns cheating and bickered so loudly that
Nanook got to barking!"  The women began working their way down the
line of clucking hens, Tara taking their eggs with minimal pecking
and squawking.  She added,  "I would love to have a shower for her; I
think it would really make her feel good.  I had about a week of bed
rest with Meggie and I truly thought I'd flip put before it was all
over.  And Dana's in bed for a month, poor thing!  I think it was
sweet of Michael to give her Nanook for the duration.  That is one
devoted dog.  She even sleeps on the bed with Dana; Mulder says he
comes home and finds them all curled up together, dozing."  

Beverly nodded as she held on to the basket and followed Tara. 
"Michael is a very intuitive boy - and Huskys are known for their
loving disposition."  

Tara suffered a mean peck from one of the older hens but still
managed to steal an egg or two, placing them gently in the basket, as
Beverly voiced her thoughts on the shower.  "Well, if we are going to
make this happen let's plan on doing it toward the end of the week. 
I crocheted her a baby blanket and matching sweater - I'd bought the
prettiest baby yarn the last time I was in Kenai visiting my mother."
Beverly swallowed a small lump in her throat as she thought about her
beloved mother, then determinably continued, "I had bought it with
the thought of making a receiving set for my cousin in Prudhoe.  But
the poor child suffered a miscarriage before I could even get
started.  I began working on the blanket set for Dana last month and
just finished it a few days ago.  Thank God I originally bought
enough for more than one blanket.  Just think of it... twins!" 

Tara nodded and smiled, remembering her surprise and joy upon
hearing the good news from first Mary, and then Scully.  Her smile
faded a bit as she recalled her sister's worry.  Oh, Dana had hidden
it well, but Tara could tell.  She was worried.  The other twin was
tiny in comparison to its brother and they could not establish its
sex with the ultrasound. And although she couldn't be sure exactly
why Dana was so worried - for she kept much of it to herself - Tara
was smart enough to know it had to center around her fear of the
virus.  And Tara was determined to keep her thoughts to herself and
not burden Dana or Bill - or Mulder, whom she had grown to love
dearly.

Now Tara collected eggs from the last hen and motioned Beverly over
to the goats' pen, both women cooing at the newest kid, a mottled
billy with the longest eyelashes they'd ever seen.  The tiny baby was
nestled in the curve of his mother's body, nursing like a fiend while
the nanny chewed her cud contentedly.  Tara leaned against the pen
and smiled at the sweet sight mother and baby made.

"Dana wanted so much to come over and see this little tyke.  But
Mulder won't let her out of bed.  I think the sooner we can organize
a shower the better. It shouldn't be hard to put together and we can
have it right at her bedside.  She won't even have to get up.  Mary
gave me a stack of baby things that she nabbed when they were in
Barrow doing the vaccinations.  I guess Dana had seen some cute
clothes and other things at the general store but refused to pick up
more than the bare necessities.  I'm going to wrap it in a big box or
two and it can be from all of us."  

Beverly smiled as she thought of how surprised Dana would be when
she opened the box.  She ticked off shower items on her fingers as
she thought of them.

"We need a few simple decorations, and food - little appetizers
would be nice, although we are severely limited.  I am sure I can
come up with some ideas!  And I will make my potato skins.  They are
to die for - made from blue potatoes."  Tara's eyebrows shot up at
the mention of colored vegetables, and Beverly chuckled at the look
on her face.  She added, "That's right - blue.  You'll see.  They are
very hardy and do well up here, growing any time of the year in the
greenhouse. A quarter of the smaller house is boxed off with dirt
that goes down three feet.  Plenty of depth for tubers and carrots. 
And Patrick made a platform for it a few years ago, to keep it off
the ground and safe from freezing."  

"But blue potatoes!"  Tara was amazed.  "Why haven't I seen them
before?  Doesn't anyone eat them?  Nobody has brought blue potatoes
to the Gathering lunches!"  Beverly shook her head as they walked
back to the chicken pen to pick up their outerwear.

"Would you believe I am the only one who likes them?  Everyone else
just looks at them and shudders, seeing only the color.  Patrick
won't even eat them.  I just grow them in a small patch of the tuber
box, and eat them at home.  I have never brought them to the
Gathering because I cook for everyone and I know they would not be
enjoyed."  She grinned at the thought of bringing her blue potato
skins to the shower and imagining the look on Dana's face when she
saw them.

Tara collected the egg basket and walked out of the barn with
Beverly, locking the barn behind her and assuring her friend that
she'd crate and distribute the eggs later that day.  Beverly left her
at her door with a promise to take care of all the food for the
shower.  Tara thanked her and entered her cabin, grinning at the
sight of Bill rolling around the floor with both Matty and Meggie
climbing all over him trying their best to tickle him.  Tara placed
the egg basket safely on her kitchen table and wriggled out of her
parka, commenting, "Under Daddy's arms, Matty - he's real ticklish
there!"  Matty whooped in glee and burrowed his little fingers under
his father's arm, digging all ten digits in and causing Bill to
screech with laughter and not a little pain.

"Tara, that hurts!  Matty, Son, don't hurt Daddy; you're supposed to
love me..."  Matty immediately stopped gouging him and his little
face crumpled with worry as he regarded his father.

"I hurt you, Daddy?  I'm sowwy!"  The child's chin wobbled, and Bill
was quick to reassure Matty, embracing him and snuggling him close.

"No, it's okay, Matty!  You didn't hurt me, Son - honest.  Daddy
likes to be tickled, really!"  Tara snorted at the blatant lie, and
mumbled under her breath as she filled the kitchen sink with hot
water and egg wash.

"That's not what you said last night, Bill..."  


*****************

Although Bill had cautioned her to warn Scully in advance of her
impending baby shower, Tara decided to surprise her sister-in-law,
figuring it would do Dana good.  She did tell Mulder who thought it
was a wonderful idea and promised to make himself scarce that day. 
In their village, with so many spring repairs and much planting to
accomplish, keeping busy and making oneself disappear all day long
would never be a problem.   

With the help of Mary, Tara broke into the clinic and swiped a
handful of thin rubber surgical gloves, determined that Dana would
have balloons.  Granted, balloons with fingers... but somehow that
was fitting for a doctor, she thought.  Michael begged to help her
blow them up and he and Tara spent a hilarious afternoon doing just
that.  Bill had watched them struggle to stretch the rubber enough to
force air into the palms and fingers of the gloves; Tara's face was
bright red before she managed to get her first glove stretched and
full of air.  She tied it off with a bit of string and fell back
against the sofa, gasping for air.  Bill guffawed loudly and she
swatted at him with one weak, slow hand which he avoided easily.

"Well, let's see, Darlin'... that only took you twenty minutes..." 
Tara flashed him a dirty look and flung a handful of the gloves at
his face.

"Bill, stop poking fun at me, and help us out here!  You can start
by stretching these damn things out using those big paws you call
hands."  Bill obligingly began stretching the fingers and palms of
the gloves, laying them aside in a neat pile, as he fought to keep
from laughing at Michael who was struggling to blow up one of the
stretched gloves.  He kindly deigned to blow up a few himself and
completed the task in half the time, much to Tara's disgust.  Bill
held up the silly looking balloon and regarded it seriously.

"You know, this is one boring-as-hell balloon, Tara.  It needs
something.  Maybe draw a happy face on it.  What do you think,
Michael?"  he addressed the thin boy, who blushed profusely at being
asked his opinion.  He gazed at Bill earnestly as he voiced an idea
that had been knocking around in his head ever since he'd asked Tara
to let him help out.

"Well, Dana and Mulder don't have names picked out for the babies,
do they?  I got a Magic Marker pen set; all different colors.  Maybe
we could write names all over the balloons, in different colors.  You
know - some good names and some silly ones, too.  So she'd laugh.  I
think Dana needs to laugh."  At the amazed looks on the adults'
faces, Michael blushed again, then turned absolute crimson when Tara
reached out and gave him a hug.  

"Michael, that's a great idea.  Very creative!  And you're right -
Dana needs to laugh.  Go get your pens, okay?  And start making a
list of names.  Bill and I will finish up these balloons. Won't we,
Bill?"  She threw a 'don't-even-think-of-saying-no' look at her
husband, who signed with loud resignation.  He winked at Michael as
he whined to Tara.

"Gee whiz... I always get to do the fun things..."

***************

On a sunny Thursday in the morning the women of Mt. Vu'luk met in
secrecy.  They gathered in the schoolhouse where they had some table
room, and laid their bounty down to exclaim over.  There were tiny
little rompers and sleepers in pale blue, yellow and soft aqua,
pattered with sweet little kittens and playful mice cavorting back to
front.  There were tiny booties, one pair knitted to look like saddle
shoes, and several caps and bonnets.  Tiny sweaters and shirts; a set
of sweats with adorable baby blue whales swimming in a rainbow sea. 
All compliments of the North Slope General Store...

Mary had found four empty boxes and the women split up the clothes
and the blankets and stuffed toys Mary had also grabbed.  They
wrapped the boxes in leftover Christmas paper, knowing Dana wouldn't
mind at all.  The packages still looked pretty and it was more
important to have something to rip open, as Sophie laughingly
remarked.  Then she opened up the bag she'd carried in, and showed
everyone what she had made... and there was utter silence before the
'Oohs' and 'Ahhs' filled the room.

Two identical parkas made of mink and fox, the mink shaded from pale
brown to almost cream and the fox slightly reddish in color.  Each
had a row of carved ivory buttons dancing down the front in the shape
of orca whales, and each little hood and sleeves were trimmed in
colorful braiding.  A ruff of softest mink edged the hood and had
drawstrings to pull the hood closed for maximum face protection. 
Tara had never seen anything more precious - and she voiced out loud
in amazement the amount of time that went into something this minute
and perfect.  Sophie had waved away the praise, explaining that she'd
begun working on the first one as soon as Dana had announced her
pregnancy, and then setting a world record for fastest stitching when
it was discovered that there would be twins.

"Ah, this is nothing.  When I was younger my fur parkas and kuspuks
always won awards and blue ribbons when I entered them in the Tanana
State Fair in Fairbanks.  They were much fancier than these.  My son
Jim lived there for many years and I would send him my entries every
year.  I will show you all my ribbons someday." Sophie fingered the
fox on the little sleeves gently before placing the parkas into an
empty box.  Reaching into the bag she withdrew two pair of tiny
mukluks made of spotted ermine and trimmed in mink.  Upon seeing them
Beverly whooped and hugged her.

"Sophie!  I KNEW you'd give these to Dana!  I remember these well...
even though I was just a little girl myself.  You made them years and
years ago, for your twin girls!"  Tara's head jerked around and she
stared at Sophie, shocked that in all these months of living here
she'd not heard more about Sophie's children.  She had to ask.

"Sophie, you had twins, too?  I had no idea!  Where do they live?" 
In her eagerness to know more about Sophie's children Tara never
stopped to think they might have passed on or not made it through the
colonization.  Sophie's wrinkled face creased into a sad smile.

"Oh my dear - they passed away years ago.  Both of them, within a
month of each other.  They could never stand to be apart and never
married, preferring each other's company to anyone else.  Pammy and
Patsy, my girls.  Thirty years old when they died, Child.  Pammy
developed ovarian cancer and I swear Patsy found a way to follow her
into death."  Sophie held the little boots in her gnarled hands and
her smile was full of remembered love for her girls.  

"I want Dana to have these - she will need them when her little ones
start toddling around out in the snow.  I would have given her one
pair - how lucky that I had two!"  With one last tender touch of her
fingers Sophie laid them on top of the parkas and taped the lid on
the box, and her memories.

With arms full of gaily wrapped gifts and balloons shaped like
surgical gloves, trays of appetizers and three bottles of sparkling
cranberry cider, the women of Mt. Vu'luk prepared to ambush Dana
Mulder, Pregnant Lady.  With Tara leading the way they tiptoed
through the snow in the afternoon sun, trying their best not to
giggle.  Tara reached the front door of Dana's cabin and opened it
soundlessly; from the bedroom Nanook woofed very softly and padded to
the door, wagging her tail.  From the bedroom they heard Dana's
sleepy, "Nanook, come back to bed Sweetheart..." Tara grinned and
pointed to the bedroom door - and they followed the dog back to her
bed - and right into the face of one very surprised Dana.

*******************

Tara watched her sister-in-law smile and laugh at the silly
balloons, pretending to take some of the baby names written on them
seriously.  

"Fartquart and Booboola... don't tell me.  Bill thought those up,
didn't he?"  Dana glanced at Tara with a lopsided grin and Tara
nodded back, shaking her head at her husband's silliness.

"Oh, yes.  Bill had several choice names picked out.  I had to
restrain him - Michael was the one writing the names on the
balloons!"  Scully cupped one of the inflated gloves in her hands,
admiring it - and her expression was stern as she met Mary's laughing
eyes.  She pretended to lecture her friend.

"And how many poor innocent gloves had to sacrifice their rubber to
make me laugh, Mary?"  

Mary choked on her cider and wiped it off her chin, exclaiming,
"Coming from you, Dana - that question sounds downright obscene!" 
Everyone laughed, which roused Nanook and set her off barking loudly.
Sarah flipped her a cheesepuff and she shut up in a hurry, chomping
in delight at the tasty treat.

Tara watched through the next hour or so, as Dana opened her gifts
and sighed over the lovely clothes and blankets.  She teared up when
she opened Beverly's hand made blankets and sweaters; but she almost
lost it completely when she dug into Sophie's gift and pulled out the
little parkas and mukluks.  Those tears pooling in her eyes ran down
her cheeks as she held up the tiny, furry clothes; it was clear she
was overwhelmed.  She laid them on her lap and held out her arms to
Sophie, who hobbled over to the bed and sat on the edge, cradling her
and whispering, "Now, don't take on so, Child!  It was nothing,
truly.  I have a lot of fur and much of it was already pre-cut into
shapes, ready to sew.  It was my honor and pleasure to make this for
your babies.  They will still be very tiny when our winter hits again
- you will need to keep their little bodies warm!"  

Tara watched Sophie wipe away Dana's tears and saw something much
more than just awe in her sister-in-law's eyes.  She saw worry there,
too.  Dana hid it well, over the rest of the shower.  She ate
some of the appetizers, seeming to enjoy the blue potato skins that
Beverly made; sipping her cider and listening to the gossip.  She
joined in when it became Mary's turn to receive the good-natured
teasing about her upcoming wedding.  Yet Tara could see Dana's heart
wasn't in it.  Doubtful anyone else noticed it, but Tara knew her
sister as well as she knew herself, despite the sparseness of their
visits before the world had come unraveled.  Tara sighed under her
breath as she poured more cider into empty glasses.  Whatever it was
Dana would not let anyone in until she was ready.

********************

Scully turned off the shower and pushed back the shower curtain. 
She squeezed the excess water out of her hair and reached for a towel
hanging on a hook outside of the shower stall.  Blotting the moisture
from her skin, she carefully stepped out of the shower.  Looking up,
she saw Mulder standing in front of the sink, shaving.  In the last
remaining weeks of pregnancy, her center of gravity was way off and
Mulder worried that she would lose her balance and fall.  She
indulged his concerns by agreeing to take her shower before he left
the cabin in the mornings.  She was sure that if the shower stall
wasn't so small, he would insist on being in there with her.  As it
was, he contented himself by performing his morning rituals of
shaving and brushing his teeth while she was bathing so that he could
remain close at hand should she need him.

As she slid her arms into her robe, she saw his eyes run over her
lush form in the mirror and a quick glance downward showed the
evidence of his desire rising beneath the towel wrapped around his
waist.  He cleared his throat and lifted the razor, cutting through
the lather covering his face in a long, smooth stroke.

"I'll be done in a few minutes," he mumbled and Scully nodded,
sidling past him on her way out of the room.  She climbed onto the
bed and rubbed the towel briskly over her hair.  She was reaching for
her brush on the table next to the bed when she heard Mulder groan
softly.  Concerned, Scully awkwardly slid out of the bed and padded
carefully across the room to peer through the half open door of the
bathroom.  

Mulder's towel was pooled around his feet and his back was bowed
over the sink as he stood with one hand braced against the smooth
porcelain.  His other hand was wrapped firmly around his hardened
flesh.  Another low sound slipped from his throat and his face was
tortured as he slid his hand roughly over his swollen length.  The
muscles of his back rippled as his hand moved on himself.  Scully
watched him for exactly four seconds, feeling the tingle of desire
pooling soft and deep.  It felt good... felt like enough for her.  

But not enough for Mulder... he'd been deprived of the assuage of
his needs for weeks now, since before she went on bed rest.  Scully
moved toward the bathroom door, smiling to herself.

Mulder's head was bent, his eyes tightly closed as he imagined
Scully's tight wet sheath enclosing him, instead of his hand... hell,
her hand would be equally wonderful - but she needed her rest, not a
humped-up husband demanding his rights.  He concentrated harder on
working himself toward release; so focused that he jumped in shock
when Scully settled one hand on the damp skin of his back and
cupped the fingers of her other hand lightly around his pumping hand.
Her lips pressed into his shoulder and she spoke into his skin.

"Let me," she whispered as she trailed her hand over his spine. 
Mulder shuddered and shook his head.  She was sweet and generous and
he was so tempted... but she was too far along.  It wasn't safe for
her.

"No, Scully," he whispered and took a step back.  "We can't," he
reminded her.  She shook her head and moved close.  Her robe hung
open and her heavy breasts brushed across his arm.  The feel of those
satiny globes made him tremble anew with desire, and he clamped down
hard on it.  Scully kissed his chest and trailed a wet tongue lightly
across each nipple, before she replied.

"I can't," she said softly, "but you can."  She brushed his hand
aside and wrapped her own fingers gently around his straining penis. 
He shivered and shook his head again, even as his hips thrust forward
helplessly, reacting to the amazing feel and warmth of her small hand.

"No," he whispered again.  "You're supposed to be in bed," he
protested, but his voice lacked conviction - and she smiled softly as
she stroked him.

"We could move this to the bed if you prefer," she suggested.  "But
Mulder, it's all right for me to be out of bed for a little while
every day.  I promise not to overdo it," she vowed.  She trailed her
fingertips lightly up and down over his quivering flesh and swiped
her thumb over the velvety head once.  Twice.  Each time his body
clenched and jerked in response to the caress.  He needed this, so
much...  Her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered again.

"Let me."

Mulder shivered and he nodded as he dropped his head onto her
shoulder.  Scully's fingers tightened around him and she began
stroking him firmly from root to tip.  Her other hand slid over his
neck and she buried her fingers in his hair, lightly raking her nails
over his scalp; he quivered and moaned under the dual caress.  His
hips began rocking forward, pushing his throbbing flesh into the warm
fist of her hand.  She could feel his lips moving against her throat
as he whispered her name over and over and his hands slid under her
robe, cupping her rounded hips securely, ever mindful of her safety.

Scully's movements sped up as his breathing hitched and changed. 
She would have liked to have taken him in her mouth and love him
properly but she'd never be able to get down on her knees and she
knew Mulder wouldn't let her anyway.  A hand job would have to
suffice... judging by the soft groans coming from his throat and the
way he whispered her name, her hand was more than enough for him. 
Her fingers slid over him, matching the rhythm of the gasping pants
below her ear.  When he began to tremble her arm tightened around him
and her fingers clenched in his hair as he stiffened against her. 
His mouth opened against her shoulder and a low growl was ripped from
him as he shuddered and shook, spilling himself over her hand and
burgeoning stomach.  Her hand slowed and gentled as she wrung every
drop from his body and she released him from her grasp, sending one
final loving caress over his damp penis.  

Wrapping her arms around Mulder's body, Scully pressed her swollen
breasts and belly against him, cradling him to her and whispering to
him soothingly as the tremors wracking his body slowed and stopped.

Mulder lifted his head from her shoulder and she tilted her head
back as he drew himself to his full height.  He wound his arms low
around her back and pulled her up against him, on her tiptoes.

"Thank you," he murmured before covering her mouth with his.  Their
lips met in a slow kiss that spoke of sated desire and tender
affection.  Mulder pulled away from her clinging lips and he turned
back to the sink, running a washcloth under warm water. Dropping to
his knees he gently cleaned the sticky residue of his semen from her
hand and stomach.  Before he tossed it in the sink he swirled it over
his abdomen and still somewhat swollen penis, ridding himself of the
last of his fluid.  He discarded the soiled washcloth, then closed 
his eyes and rested his cheek against the fertile mound of his
wife's stomach.

"I love you," he whispered.  Scully's heart burst with love as she
watched Mulder press kiss after gentle kiss into her belly, up to her
breasts; with featherlight lips he kissed each tender nipple.  His
soft mouth and gentle tongue felt so good... and when he stood and
led her back to their bedroom, crawling into the bed and curling
his body around hers, she sighed, reveling in the quiet contentment
of the moment.... so glad to be able to give him this.

Almost as much as he'd given to her.

************************



~ Chapter Thirty Seven ~

Somehow the day kept running through his mind like scenes from a
movie, while he was making slow, exquisite love to his bride. 
Snippets of the day, some verbal and some just images, floating in
and around the fine mist of desire which soaked him to the skin as
his body moved on hers, and the connection between them pounded
through his blood.  

Walter Skinner was enjoying the hell out of his wedding night...

All day long he'd been in a haze of longing anticipation, already
flipping his mental journal pages to the night and their bed in their
very own cabin; possessive 'they' in all aspects.  He'd awoken alone
in the new cabin, on this his wedding day; missing the warmth of Mary
but understanding the importance of some traditions.  She'd spent the
night with her father and Michael.  This was right and proper,
Skinner conceded.  It had given him an opportunity to put the
finishing touches on the cabin that used to belong to Sarah - and
who'd given it to Skinner and Mary as a wedding gift. The
conversation was forever etched in his mind as one of the most
unselfish acts of kindness anyone had done for him...

"Sarah, we can't take your home!"  Mary had been adamant and Skinner
had nodded, sitting side by side in this very room.  Sarah had smiled
and squeezed Mary's hand.

"And why not?  What do I need with two cabins?  I should have moved
years ago, but I never got around to doing it.  Patrick always said
he'd help me but I hung onto the cabins, thinking someday maybe he
would have need of them. Well, that did not happen, and now I have
just what you two need.  A place for you and a place for Jon and
Michael."  Mary had sighed softly and squeezed Sarah's hand in
response, and then she and Skinner had both looked around the unusual
cabin.

It had been built with a guest in mind, Skinner realized.  On the
outside actually two cabins, sitting close together and connected by
a heated breezeway, each cabin was completely private and each had
two bedrooms and a full kitchen and bath.  The larger cabin had a
living area, while the smaller cabin's living room had been
sacrificed for an extra bedroom.  Sarah's mother-in-law had occupied
the smaller cabin; it had been built specially for her.  Together the
two cabins were much more than the widowed Sarah needed, and Patrick
had built his own cabin three years ago.  

Sarah had cleared her throat, bringing Skinner's attention back to
her.  She had smiled at him gently, and reached out her other hand to
clasp his reassuringly.

"I do nothing unwillingly, Walter.  You should know that about me,
by now.  This cabin is too big for my old bones to rattle around in. 
Patrick worries about me; keeps thinking I'll fall."  She shook her
head indulgently.  "He thinks I'm going to break, I guess.  But it is
good for a son to worry about his mother; he honors me with his worry
and concern.  The least I can do is respect his wish, and find a
smaller place, nearer to him.  And that empty cabin next to his only
needs a piece of the roof fixed.  I will move there.  And you will in
turn honor me, by accepting this place for you and your family.  You
will need the room, Mary - for Jon and Michael."  Sarah's smiling
eyes had locked on to Mary's, who had nodded and smiled back,
blinking tears out of her vision.  She had impulsively leaned forward
and kissed the old woman's face, whispering to her.

"Sarah, Walter and I would be honored... wouldn't we?"  Mary's
imploring gaze had caught Skinner and he had nodded as well, and had
grinned at both women.

"You bet, Sarah - and thank you."

And so it was done - the roof on Sarah's new cabin was fixed in no
time, and she moved the very next day, Manly and Patrick helping her
with the furniture and heavier things.  It had not taken very long...
Beverly had spent half a day cleaning the empty cabins, refusing to
let Mary lift a finger to help.  And then Manly and Patrick had moved
Mary and Skinner's belongings right in, waving away Skinner's help as
well.  Mary and Skinner had spent the day cuddled in the gathering
hall, planning and laughing and just enjoying their free time
together, for Scully had refused to let Mary into the clinic the day
before her wedding...

The fire in the stove crackled and threw heat into the cabin, but
that heat had nothing on the intensity of what sparked between the
two bodies entwined in the bed.  The quilts and blankets had been
tossed to the floor; they were not needed.  The filmy nightgown Mary
had borrowed from Beverly had landed on top of the blankets. As
lovely as she'd looked in the pale blue confection Skinner had wanted
her skin against his.  She had been clothed all day, was indeed
gorgeous beyond belief in her mother's wedding gown.  Skinner had
been amazed to see it - then discovered Jon Honea had packed it in
with his belongings, unable to bear leaving it at the rectory.  Mary
had broken down and cried in her father's arms when he'd brought the
gown to her...

Mary had walked to him with her head held high and her long black
hair pouring down her back like a sable banner, and Skinner's throat
had closed up with emotion.   In the glow of the tiny chapel his
bride was as lovely as anything he'd ever beheld in his entire life. 
Skinner's eyes had locked upon hers and everyone else had ceased to
exist for him; the soft sniffling of Tara and Scully, seated on the
first pew closest to the door in case Scully had to beat a hasty exit
to the bathroom.  He'd been especially overjoyed to see Scully up on
her feet; it had meant everything to Mary and to him, having her at
their wedding.

Walter Skinner had adored Mary clothed in creamy antique satin...
now he adored her a hundred-fold more, clothed in nothing but her
equally creamy skin.  He'd pulled the nightgown from her body with
barely-disguised urgency.

Mary hadn't minded his urgency... not a bit.

In the dim room her hair swung over him in a midnight shimmer of
silk; it had grown in the past six months and now hung past her
waist.  She pressed him down into the tangled sheets and her hair
cascaded over one shoulder and dripped down onto his chest as she
took one of his small hard nipples in her mouth and bit down gently. 
He shuddered and his big hands gripped her waist, hard.  Mary's eyes
never left her husband's as she nipped at his sensitive skin, working
her way over hard pecs and a muscled stomach with her slippery hair
caressing him in the wake of her eager mouth and kneading hands. Down
his chest and over his tight abdomen... body slipping out of his grip
and moving steadily south until she reached her goal, and her fingers
strove to enclose all that lovely hard flesh on display between his
heavily muscled thighs.  

She sat back a little on his legs and stared at the sight of her
small hands running the length and breadth of his erection; dusky
fingers against darkly reddened flesh as hard as marble...  She could
look at him, admire him all day.  His male beauty was beyond compare.
Mary released him and used both hands to pull her heavy hair over her
shoulders, then she smiled as she reached out one tender index finger
and traced it down the throbbing skin, to the base and back up,
swirling one teasing nail around the broad tip.  And when her husband
gasped out a hoarse, "What are you doing to me, Mary..." she had a
ready answer.  She fluttered her fingers over the silky skin and her
reply left him reeling.

"I'm admiring a true work of art, Husband... I have always been a
lover of beauty."  She bent forward and her mouth grazed him in a
most sensitive spot, followed by her tongue, accompanied by all ten
fingers and two warm palms...

Skinner wound his hands into her hair and groaned.

Against his burning skin her mouth burned even hotter, her lips and
tongue gliding up and down his ridged length but never settling in
one spot.  Teasing him... stretching out the need until Skinner's
head was thrashing on the pillow and his breath hissed between his
teeth in one long sibilant exhale.  His fingers knotted and clenched
in her hair, fighting the urge to push her face into him, to make her
take all of him instead of just bits and pieces.  Mary looked up at
him with eyes as hot as her mouth, which hovered just over the satiny
head, waiting for him to lose it... daring him.  She darted out a
small pink tongue and let it barely touch him, feeling his entire
body tighten under hers - and when she blew a breath over the wetness
she'd left behind, his hips bucked into her face and his hands
grasped her hair and he pushed against her mouth, groaning harshly
when her mouth opened wide and took him inside.  

For Skinner the unselfish act was one more reason to adore her, for
Mary was one of the very few women he'd known in his life that really
enjoyed the giving of it.  Her mouth and throat felt incredible and
he could do nothing but lie back and let her take what she wanted,
and hope he lasted long enough to return the favor...

Her hair cascaded around him like a black waterfall as she made love
to him with her mouth and her hands.  Skinner held the silky strands
up and away from her face to watch the sensual by-play.  And he
thought back to a few short hours ago, when he'd slid his hands
underneath her heavy hair and grasping two fistfuls of it, had
brought it to his lips and kissed the fragrant skeins of it. Mere
seconds later he'd used it to pull her lips close enough to cover
with his own as her father had pronounced them man and wife...  when
he'd kissed her hair, Mary's eyes had filled with tears and her lips
had trembled.

Now he watched those full lips stroke him, and feeling her throat
enclose him and her tongue caress him this way was almost more than
he could handle; Skinner brought her hair to his face and pressed it
to his mouth as his hips rocked slowly, slowly...

When he could hold back no longer Skinner lifted her head and
extricated himself as carefully as possible, then tilted her face up
to his so he could see her heavy-lidded eyes and rosy, swollen mouth.
She took his breath away... what little he had left to take.  He
started to move her onto her back but Mary pushed against him and her
low, firm, "No," stopped him cold.  Skinner stared at his new wife in
confusion.  Her answering grin was reassuring, as she instructed him,
"Sit on the edge of the bed, Walter."  She tugged at his arm until
she had him positioned to her satisfaction, then she slipped off the
bed and opened the closet door, rooting around for a second until she
found what she wanted, and propped it directly across from the bed,
against the wall.

A full-length mirror...

Mary approached the bed, and Skinner; insinuating herself between
his legs she bent down and covered his mouth with hers, kissing him
deeply as he sighed into her mouth and his hands moved restlessly
over her body.  He began to push his fingers inside her and Mary
pulled her hips away from his roving hand, again with a firm, "No. 
Not yet - not that way..."  Skinner obediently removed his hand,
slipping his arms around her and kissing her, waiting to see where
she would lead him next.

When she suddenly broke their kiss and spun around to face the
mirror, leaned back against his broad chest and curved a hand behind
her to maneuver his hard length underneath and to the front of her
wetness, Skinner got the picture.

The full-length picture... and it was the most erotic sight he'd
ever beheld.  Between her thighs and pressing up against her soft
curls Skinner saw the darkly-flushed tip of his penis jut forth like
a piece of living sculpture; the look and feel of it nestled there
forced a gutteral moan from his throat.  God... the way she looked...
small and fragile, but looks were deceiving.  The power she had over
him was formidable... 

Her hair rippled over his arm and down his side to pool on his
thigh, and in a graceful splay of slender legs she opened herself to
him and lifted her hips up and away from his erection, the better for
him to observe.  In the light coming in from the open bathroom he
could see her, glistening, ready for him.  Inviting... arousing. 
Skinner stared at her and he couldn't stop himself from groaning
aloud.  Mary slipped an arm up around his neck and drew his head down
for a kiss, her eyes never leaving his as he put his hands on her
hips and lifted her higher, while she repositioned him and guided him
inside.  They watched each other shudder with the impact of flesh
absorbed within flesh...

Skinner was fascinated by the sight of them together in the mirror,
his eyes glued to their reflection as he saw his hands raise Mary's
hips and then bring her down upon him, again and again... each time
forcing a gasping breath from her lungs.  She anchored her arm around
his neck and her other hand reached into her thicket of dark curls
and toyed with her swollen clit, fingers occasionally brushing
against him as he moved faster, and deeper within her.  Mary watched
her hand giving herself pleasure as her husband's driving strokes
coiled her tighter, and tighter - the intensity of his stare burning
her in the mirror, as hot as the flesh that impaled her.  Knowing she
was on the edge of her release - wanting it to never end -

Screaming when it broke over her and inside her and the full body-
shudder she experienced pulled strongly at him... until with three
final hard thrusts he was right there with her...

His shout as he climaxed was loud enough to break a mirror... 
fortunately for them, theirs held together.  Mary lifted eyes gone
heavy with satisfaction, her stare devouring the sight of her
husband's reflection; his entire body flushed with the force of their
coupling and his chest heaving beneath her back.  She leaned in
against his shoulder and her voice was low and vibrated with emotion.

"God... look at us.  Look.  Do you see what I see, Walter?  I see
love.  I see endless need and spent desire and I see my husband, whom
I adore beyond all else..."  

Skinner's arms tightened about Mary's damp body and he pressed his
mouth into her shoulder as he stared at the picture they made, here
in their new bedroom at the beginning of their new life together.  It
was a sight he knew he'd never tire of seeing.  Still trapped within
her indescribable warmth, touching the very womb of her... Skinner
could think of only one other gift that would make his world
complete.  His hoarse rumble against her ear made her shiver.

"I want a child with you, Mary..."   The sweet words brought tears
to her eyes and she turned her head and caught his mouth; kissed him
tenderly, feeling him still so far within her and sending a prayer
heavenward that locking him inside for these few precious minutes
would give him his wish...  Against his lips she was affirming.

"Yes.  I want it, too - so much I ache, Walter."  She stared up into
his dark eyes and her own filled with tears that dampened her cheeks
as she made a vow for them to keep.

"Soon.  Maybe tonight... maybe it has already happened.  But I'd
like to think you gave me a son, or a daughter tonight, Love..."  

In the mirror the newlyweds pressed themselves close to one another
and whispered of their future.

*************
~ Chapter Thirty Eight ~


June

Scully felt the first contraction shortly after Mulder left the
house in the morning. The sun was shining brightly both day and night
now but with black shades and heavy curtains over the windows, the
bedroom was cool and dark. She had been experiencing Braxton-Hicks
contractions for several days as her uterus began preparing to expel
its tiny passengers. Scully blew out a breath she hadn't been aware
she was holding as the pain faded; she smoothed a hand over her
rounded belly, relaxing back into the pillows. That one had been
different from any contraction she had felt so far and she had been
caught unprepared for its intensity.

Long moments passed without another contraction and her eyes
fluttered shut. Boredom and enforced bed rest had combined to make
her lethargic over the final weeks of her pregnancy and she had found
herself taking frequent naps during the day. She was startled out of
a comfortable doze when the second contraction hit, curling low and
hard in her womb. Gasping, she sat up and looked at the clock. She
guessed that roughly thirty minutes had passed since the first
contraction. She rubbed a hand over her stomach. Scully found her
watch on the nightstand and strapped it around her wrist. She had
things to do and she had to get them done before the pains began to
come with more frequency. She struggled out of bed and cautiously
stood, holding onto the bedpost for support. When she was sure her
legs would hold her, she began to make her way slowly toward the
bathroom. 

Grabbing a towel, razor and a can of Mulder's shaving cream, she
lowered the lid of the toilet seat and sat down, clumsily propping
one foot on the sink. Squirting the shaving cream into the palm of
her hand, she began to smooth it over her leg. Reaching across the
broad swell of her stomach, she awkwardly began shaving. As she
dragged the razor along her leg, she remembered a story that her
mother had always told about how she had calmly and insistently
painted her toenails while in labor with Melissa, as her husband
paced and raged that it was time to leave for the base hospital. 
Somehow that trivial yet calming little chore had made absolute sense
to her and Missy, although Bill, Charlie and their dad would always
roll their eyes in pretended disgust...

Mulder, she knew, would be worse. Scully had briefly considered
sending for him after the second contraction, but had quickly
discarded the idea. He had never been able to handle seeing her in
pain and she knew that this delivery would be as difficult on him
emotionally as it would be on her physically.  It was best to get the
worst of the more sporadic contractions out of the way and spare
herself an over-abundance of Mulder-angst.

She finished shaving, then washed her face and brushed her hair
back, securing it into a neat ponytail. She went back into the
bedroom and changed out of her pajamas and into a clean nightgown.
She was stripping the bed when the third contraction washed over her.
This one was stronger than the other two and she braced her hands on
the mattress for support as she waited for the pain to subside.
Huffing out a steady breath, she looked at her watch. Still almost
thirty minutes between contractions, she noted; she finished making
the bed with fresh linens. Scully looked around the room and her eyes
fell on the two cradles sitting side-by-side in the corner of the
room. Mulder had spent every spare moment working on the second
cradle after the ultrasound had shown the twin lives growing inside
her womb. Her troubled eyes traced over the tiny bed with its fresh
coat of varnish lovingly applied by Mulder only two days earlier. She
determinedly pushed the disturbing thoughts out of her head. She
would know soon enough.

Scully pulled open a drawer and gently lifted out two soft receiving
blankets and two impossibly small diapers along with tiny pajamas in
pale shades of blue and yellow and laid them in the waiting cradles.
Lastly, she laid clean towels and washcloths by the bed. Between
contractions, Scully straightened up the bedroom and cleaned the
cabin, nervous energy preventing her from sitting still.

Four hours after her labor had begun, she was hit with a
particularly strong contraction. Caught off-guard, she leaned
forward, clutching the table for support and gasping for breath as
the sudden pain curled through her belly and spread low in her back.
It was at this moment that Mulder chose to come home for lunch and he
found Scully in the middle of the sun-filled room, eyes squeezed shut
and with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table.  Mulder
dropped the small tool kit he'd been carrying; it narrowly missed his
foot.

"Scully!" he cried as he raced to her side. She blew out a long
breath as the pain receded and looked up into her husband's worried
face. 

"I'm alright," she assured him quickly. He reached out to brush her
stomach with tentative fingers.  Through the nightgown he could feel
the hard knot as their babies shifted and prepared to drop into
birthing position.  Taking several deep breaths Mulder forced himself
to remain as calm as possible.

"Is it...?" he asked. Scully nodded and laid her hand over his.

"The contractions started about four hours ago," she said. Mulder's
eyes rounded and a look of anger crossed his face.  Four hours -! 
Jesus!

"Why didn't you send for me?" he demanded. Scully laid a restraining
hand on his arm and looked up at him with a reassuring smile. 

"It's okay," she said softly. "First babies can take a long time.  I
wasn't planning on giving birth without you," she promised. Mulder's
eyes were turbulent and he swept her into his arms, carrying her on
swift legs toward the front door.

"Mulder?" she asked with a bewildered look. "Where are you taking
me?" Mulder glanced down at her face in astonishment.

"Where am I...?" he spluttered. "I'm taking you to the clinic!" he
said, stating what he thought should be obvious. Scully shook her
head and began to squirm in his arms.  Mulder blew out an impatient
breath and tightened his grip.

"Stop that," he demanded. "You're going to fall!" She looked up at
him challengingly.

"I'm not going to the clinic," she said resolutely. "I'm going to
deliver here, at home."  Her husband's jaw dropped in shock.

"Here?" Mulder demanded. "But... but all of the equipment is..." He
broke off as she pursed her lips and shook her head slowly back and
forth. 

"No," she said stubbornly. Mulder began to argue again, but he
recognized the determined set of her jaw and he knew she wasn't going
to budge.  With a loud sigh he retraced his steps, her nightgown
fluttering around her bare legs.

"Fine," he huffed in exasperation as he carried her into the
bedroom. "But you aren't supposed to be on your feet," he declared as
he set her down in the center of the newly made bed. "I'm going to
get Mary and Sarah."  He turned to leave the room.

Scully grabbed his hand quickly. "No, wait!" she exclaimed as she
pulled him back toward the bed. "It's too early to call them," she
said. Mulder's face was a combination of fear and disbelief.  He sank
down onto the bed and grasped one of her hands, feeling the panic
begin to set in.

"Scully, you're in labor!" he said. "Please, let me get them!"  And
with a sigh, Scully acquiesced. The pains were still coming every
thirty minutes or so now and she knew Mulder would not rest until 
she had been examined. She nodded and he raced out of the cabin. 
She was blowing out short breaths and counting her way through the 
next contraction when she heard the door slam open and Mulder's 
feet pound across the living room.

"We're back!" he called unnecessarily as he hurried to her side. He
sat down on the bed next to her and smoothed his hand down the column
of her spine as she bowed forward through the pain. When it subsided,
she looked down at her watch and then up into Mary's smiling face.

"How far apart are they?" the nurse asked as she sank down onto the
mattress. She lifted Scully's hand into her lap and calmly wrapped
her fingers around her wrist, quickly checking her pulse.

"That one was about twenty-five minutes after the last one," Scully
told her. Mary nodded and urged her to lean back against the pillows,
tugging on a pair of latex gloves. Scully struggled to raise her hips
as Mary pulled her nightgown up her thighs so that she could examine
her. A few moments later, the younger woman looked up and met
Scully's expectant gaze.

"You're just a little more than one centimeter," she said as she
tore the gloves from her hands. "You should rest while you can," she
said quietly. Standing she looked into Mulder's anxious face. "You
should both get some rest," she suggested before turning to leave.
Mulder leapt to his feet, in a panic.

"You're leaving?" he asked incredulously. He caught the hem of
Mary's shirt between his fingers. "How can you leave?" he asked.
"She's in labor!" Mary wrapped strong fingers around his and squeezed
gently. 

"Mulder, she has hours to go before she delivers these babies," Mary
told him. "Labor usually takes a long time," she said. "First time
mothers can sometimes labor for up to twenty or thirty hours before
the baby is born." Mulder paled and she laid a reassuring hand on his
cheek.

"She's strong and healthy and I don't think it's going to take that
long," she said comfortingly. She led him out of the bedroom and
stopped near the front door. "There's nothing I can do for her right
now. But you can help her," she said, hoping that by giving him
something to do, she could help to calm him. "Rub her back, bring her
something to drink," she suggested. "Talk to her. SING to her. Help
her to rest." Mary smiled and pulled her friend forward, wrapping her
arms around his lean frame. 

"It's going to be okay," she told him bracingly. "Sarah and I will
stay close and we'll come by to check on you. Soon," she promised.
Mulder nodded jerkily and as the door closed behind her, he scrubbed
his hands over his face and turned back toward the bedroom.  Mary
knew what she was doing, he told himself.  He was the one with no
prior birthing experience with which to compare.  He walked back into
the bedroom and found Scully lying in the middle of the bed, peeking
at him from beneath her lashes. Mulder managed a shaky smile and a
silly, falsetto, "Miz Scarlett, Ah doan' know nuthin' 'bout birthin'
no babies!"  

Scully snorted out a tired laugh that ended on a squeak as the
chuckle rode out on the coattails of another contraction.  She
groaned.

"Mulder, don't you dare make me laugh..."  She held out a hand to
him and her husband climbed into bed, curling his body behind hers
and rubbing a warm, soothing palm over her belly.

********* 

The afternoon passed slowly. Scully's labor varied in both frequency
and intensity and Mulder marveled at his wife's ability to nap in
between contractions. Sarah and Mary stopped in regularly throughout
the afternoon and early evening to check on her progress and they
were pleased and upbeat with each examination. By eight o'clock in
the evening, Scully's cervix had dilated to approximately four
centimeters. Sarah looked up and met Scully's tired eyes with a smile.

"Four centimeters," she declared. She laid a hand on Scully's thigh
and squeezed softly. "The contractions are going to start coming
faster and they will be more sustained now," she told the younger
woman. Scully nodded and her hand tightened around Mulder's as the
pain began building once again. She hung her head and panted softly
and Mulder whispered into her ear until the pain had receded
slightly. Still panting, she smiled shakily at Sarah.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "That one was strong." She swiped a trembling
hand over her brow, pushing back the hair that had long ago escaped
its ponytail. "What was the time on that one?" she asked. Sarah
looked at the clock on the nightstand. 

"About eight minutes," she told her, taking a glass of water from
Mary and offering it her. "Small sips," she instructed and Scully
nodded, gratefully allowing the cool water to moisten her dry mouth.
She handed the glass back to Sarah and leaned her head against
Mulder's shoulder. She reached up with one hand and pulled his face
close to hers.

"How are you doing?" she asked gently, brushing her lips over his.
Mulder smoothed his hand over her tangled hair and smiled against her
mouth, determined to lie to her if necessary.

"I'm doing just fine."  Outwardly, he struggled to maintain a calm
appearance but deep inside, he was a mass of jumbled nerves. Scully
shook her head ruefully. She was all too familiar with the look of
studied calm on his face that she knew was a front to cover the panic
within. She was about to call him on it when her hand involuntarily
tightened around the back of his neck as another powerful contraction
swept through her. She could feel Mulder's heart thundering against
her back as he wrapped protective arms around her until the spasms
had subsided once more.  He dropped his cheek on her bright hair and
prayed for enough strength, not only for her but for him as well.

Scully's labor continued like that for another hour or more and she
was becoming tired and tense as the contractions began to move closer
and closer together. Suddenly, when she was approximately seven
centimeters dilated, her contractions began to slow and then they
seemed to stop.

"What is it?" she demanded as Sarah sat between her parted legs to
examine her again. "What have the contractions stopped?" Her eyes
were large with fear and every muscle in her body was rigid with
tension. Sarah smoothed the nightgown back down over her legs.
Grasping Scully by the hands, she glanced up at Mulder, whose face
had lost all pretense of studied calm and looked out-and-out
frightened.

"Help me," she said as she eased Scully's feet onto the floor. Sarah
smoothed her fingers over the backs of Scully's hands. "Sometimes,
when the mother has been laboring for a long time, she becomes too
tense and that can cause labor to stop," she explained. Scully
nodded. Medically speaking, she knew all of that, but she had long
ago stopped reacting to what was happening to her body like a doctor.
She was tired. She was in pain and she was afraid. Sarah looked into
Mulder's eyes.

"You need to help her relax," she said and she began to pull Scully
to her feet. "A warm shower might help," she said. Mulder shook his
head.

"How does that..." he began to ask in confusion. Mary spoke up from
where she had been watching worriedly from the doorway. She pasted a
calm look on her face as she met his troubled eyes.

"Climb into the shower with her and hold her," she said. "A warm
shower and the comfort of your arms will provide a physical and
emotional timeout for her," she explained. "It might help her body to
readjust and recommit to the job before her." Mulder nodded and
wrapped his arm firmly around his wife's waist, helping her toward
the bathroom. Mary had moved into the small room ahead of them,
turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. She laid out
towels and a fresh nightgown and as she slipped out of the room, she
laid one hand on Mulder's arm.

"Stimulation of the nipples can encourage the uterus to contract,"
she told him softly. Mulder flushed and his eyes darted away from
hers but Mary just tightened her grip on his arm, forcing him to meet
her gaze.

"We need to get the contractions started again," she said firmly.
Mulder nodded and tried to slide past her but she wasn't finished.
"Don't overdue it," she cautioned, "or it can cause contractions to
last more than two minutes in duration. The babies need more time to
rest between contractions." Mulder's mind swirled with a combination
of embarrassment, confusion and fear.  He didn't want to talk to Mary
about something this intimate.  And yet, who else could he talk to? 
Mulder blew out a shaky breath as he faced his and Scully's best
friend with bright red cheeks.

"How do I know if I'm..." He broke off, unable to continue this line
of conversation. Mary smiled sympathetically and patted him on the
arm.

"Just be gentle," she advised as she pulled the door closed behind
them. Scully was leaning tiredly against the sink and Mulder hastened
to pull her sweat-soaked nightgown over her head. He quickly stripped
out of his own clothes and climbed into the shower stall. He
carefully helped her into the narrow stall with him and backed up
against the wall, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms
around her.  There wasn't enough room in the tiny box but they made
do as best they could - Scully was weary enough not to care how tight
the fit was.  Her head found its favorite resting place below
Mulder's chin and she slumped against him as his hands swept up and
down her back in long, smooth strokes. 

The warm water sprayed over her aching limbs and she began to relax
by slow degrees as the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear and
the warmth of the water trickling over her body began to lull her.
Mulder fought down his body's natural response to having his wife wet
and naked in his arms and he concentrated on helping her to relax,
whispering encouragingly to her as his fingers stroked and caressed.
She felt his hand settle on the back of her head and she tilted her
face, blinking against the fine spray of the water. His mouth lowered
to hers in a gentle, oh so gentle kiss as he cupped her breasts
in his palms, sweeping his thumbs delicately across the sensitive
tips. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours; she lying
heavily in his embrace; he awed by the responsibility entrusted to
him as his hands moved with gentle purpose over her body. The
peaceful interlude was interrupted when Scully's body grew rigid in
his arms as her uterus began to tighten once again in a powerful
contraction.

Mulder held her securely until it had passed, and then he quickly
turned off the water and helped her out of the shower stall. He ran a
towel over both of them and eased the clean nightgown over her head,
sitting her down on the closed lid of the toilet while he rapidly
dressed. Then he picked her up gently in strong arms that reacted to
her extra weight as if she were no heavier than a feather - and
holding her closely to his heart he took her back to bed, settling
her against the pillows and kissing her soft mouth in tiny sweet
kisses, before taking his place beside her and curling himself around
her again, supporting her sore back.

********************

Sarah let them rest for several minutes before leaning over the bed
and rousing them.  "Come on, Dana," she said firmly.  "It's better
for you to keep moving right now."  She stroked a strand of wet hair
off of Scully's face and smiled as the younger woman briefly nestled
her cheek into Sarah's warm palm.  "We don't want the contractions to
stop again," Sarah finished and she slid her fingers down Scully's
pale cheek.  Mulder stood and helped his wife to her feet.  Firming
his grip around Scully's waist, he laid his other hand on top of her
belly, noting for the first time how her burden had dropped over the
last few days.  

Leaning heavily on her husband's arm, Scully let him lead her in a
slow walk through the cabin.  She was beginning to focus on the
internal workings of her body and Mulder's voice was a low murmur of
comfort in her ear.  Mary and Sarah melted into the background as the
couple moved from room to room and despite her worry, Mary couldn't
help but smile at the picture they presented - the tall, dark-haired
man bent protectively over the small woman curled so trustingly
against him.

Scully stopped in her tracks as another contraction caught her in
its powerful grip.  She leaned forward over Mulder's arm, gritting
her teeth and trying to breathe through the pain as it radiated across
her middle, pushing into her back and spreading down into her legs. 
A low moan of distress escaped her lips and as the pain briefly
faded, she tilted her head back and looked up at him.

"Mulder, please," she said as she clutched his arms with her hands. 
"I'm so tired.  I want to lie down for a little while."  Mulder
nodded as he studied the small face turned up to his.  With one hand,
he pushed the damp hair from her cheek.  Her face was deathly pale
and heavy bruises ringed eyes that were wide and dark with pain and
fear.  Mulder's heart clenched as he gazed into her frightened eyes. 
She had been so calm and brave over the many long hours since he had
come home for lunch and he had forgotten that she had confessed to
being terrified of giving birth only a few short months earlier. 
Mulder cupped his wife's face and thought about how small she was;
how narrow through the hips.  And he was so worried... he'd been a
big baby - nine pounds and almost twenty-two inches long.  His mother
had always joked that her Fox had split her just about in half when
she'd delivered him.

Mulder never discovered until years later that his mother had almost
died giving birth to him.  And as he supported Scully and kept her
weight off her feet Mulder remembered the difference in size between
their babies...  Their son would cause his mother a lot of pain - and
history could repeat itself...

He bent down, intent on carrying her back to bed, but a startled
gasp from Scully stopped him.  She was staring sightlessly at a spot
on his T-shirt and her lips were rounded in a perfect "O" of surprise.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly.  Scully's eyes moved slowly up
along his chest to meet his wary gaze.

"Something's... something is happening," she whispered as first a
trickle and then a warm flood of liquid poured from between her legs,
pooling on the floor at their feet.  Mulder looked down in shock at
her small feet standing in a puddle of fluid then he burst into
motion, scooping her into his arms and hurrying toward the bedroom.

"Her water just broke," he announced nervously as he shouldered his
way into the room and laid her in the middle of the mattress.  Mary
settled on the bed between Scully's legs and examined her while Sarah
used a towel to dry her legs and feet.

"It sure has," Mary confirmed.  "You are fully dilated," she crowed.
Sarah leaned over the tired couple and stroked gentle hands over
their heads.

"It won't be long now, my dears," she assured them.  

Mulder used a cool, wet cloth to wipe Scully's face as she writhed
on the bed when another contraction assailed her body.  One after
another they came, giving her little to no rest in between.  Gasping,
Scully struggled to sit up and Mulder helped her, slipping behind her
to support her back, his hands shaking.  Scully looked wild-eyed at
Sarah.

"I need... I need to push," she panted.  Sarah nodded and rose from
the edge of the bed.  Mulder looked up in surprise.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she moved away from the bed and
into the other room.  He craned his head to see what she was doing.

"Bring her over here," Sarah directed, pointing to a small stool
that was set up near the fireplace in the living room.  He had been
so focused on Scully that he hadn't noticed it earlier when they were
walking through the cabin. Mulder looked around the bedroom and then
peered back at Sarah through the doorway.  His arms tightened
protectively around his wife as she moaned softly against the pain of
another contraction.

"Why can't she just stay in bed?" he asked in confusion.  "It's got
to be a hell of a lot more comfortable than that thing," he
protested, eyeing the wooden stool.  Mary shook her head.

"It will be easier for her in the birthing chair," she told him.
"Sarah has been a midwife for many years," she reminded him.  "And
she has used this chair for almost every delivery she has
participated in.  Squatting will increase the flare of the pelvis
allowing the baby to slide through easier," she explained.  "Besides,
we want to have gravity working for her, not against her."  Mulder
nodded doubtfully, still worried - but he lifted Scully into his arms
and carried her out of the bedroom. 

The birthing chair was set low to the ground.  It had a curved seat
and back, against which she could lean comfortably.  Two handles
jutted up from the seat and Scully immediately clutched them with
both hands as the next contraction bore down on her.  Sarah was
waiting near the chair and she stripped the sweat-soaked nightgown
over Scully's head, replacing it with one of Mulder's oversized T-
shirts, tugging the soft cotton over Scully's breasts and giving her
the illusion and comfort of modesty, although she realized that the
younger woman was far from caring about such things at this moment. 
She pointed to the floor behind the chair and Mulder knelt down and
placed his hands over his wife's on the handles, watching with
frightened eyes as Mary settled into place on the floor between
Scully's spread legs.

"I'm too old to be sitting on the floor," Sarah explained under
Mulder's questioning look.  "But Mary has delivered several babies
and I will be right here the entire time," she said reassuringly. 
Mary set warm hands on Scully's ankles and lightly chafed the skin of
her calves as she sought her attention.

"Okay, Dana," she said in a low, soothing voice.  "When the next
contraction peaks, I want you to push."  Scully tightened her grip on
the wooden handles and nodded.  Mary rose to her knees and set one
hand on Scully's stomach so that she could feel the contraction as it
built.  Scully locked her eyes on her friend's face and saw her nod.

"Now, Dana!" she exclaimed.  "Push.  Push now!"  Scully closed her
eyes and drew in a deep breath and bore down with all of her
strength.  The contraction subsided and she could hear Mulder's voice
near her ear, praising and encouraging her.  

Mary set a hand on one of Scully's quivering legs.  "Good, Dana,"
she said.  "Now, here it comes again," she warned.  "Can you feel
it?"  Scully nodded and braced herself again.

And on it went for almost another hour.  Scully knew, or thought she
had known how painful this would be, but nothing she had read or
heard had prepared her for the pain and utter exhaustion of
childbirth.  Each contraction swelled and peaked and she bore down
every time, straining and grunting with her efforts.  Her focus
narrowed and the other occupants of the room faded into background
noise as her body struggled to deliver itself of the tiny creatures
within.  She collapsed back into Mulder's waiting arms and he wiped
her face and neck with a cool cloth.  She could feel his heart
thundering in his chest and she heard the low rumble of his voice
whispering words of love and praise in her ear.

For Mulder the reality of seeing a woman give birth was frightening
enough - but that it was his wife, delicate and small-boned... Scully
was strong but contractions like these would have decimated anyone
else.  He didn't know how she'd hung on this long.  And he was beyond
worried and beyond afraid for her and their babies.   Mulder fought
against the taunting voice in his ear that whispered to him of all
that could go wrong with the birth...

Breech delivery.  Massive tearing, especially as her body struggled
to expel their much-larger son.  Umbilical asphyxiation.  Arterial
clotting.  Mulder knew enough of them, stored in his damned memory,
to keep him in endless panic for days and weeks to come.  He could
feel himself breaking up and ruthlessly pushed it way down.  Now
wasn't the time to come unhinged.  His wife needed him to be strong
for her...

After what seemed to be endless pushing sessions Scully struggled to
open her eyes and she looked first into the beloved face of her
husband and then down into Mary's earnest one.  "I can't," she
panted.  Mary shook her head and leaned closer.

"Dana, you're doing so great," she told her encouragingly.  "I know
you can do this!"  Scully rolled her head against Mulder's chest and
licked dry lips.  Mulder held a cool wet washcloth to her mouth and
let Scully moisten her lips with it.  She sighed brokenly and the
weary tears slipped down her cheeks.

"No, Mary," she protested.  "Something is wrong.  I can feel it,"
she said, lifting beseeching eyes to Sarah who was sitting in a chair
just behind Mary.  "Sarah, please," she said pleadingly.  Sarah
looked up at the clock on the mantle and then down into Scully's
exhausted face.  She had hoped that Scully would have been closer to
actually delivering by now, but things had not progressed as quickly
as she had anticipated.  There were a number of reasons for the
length of the labor.  Scully was a first time mother; she was
pregnant with twins and she was a small woman.  All of these things
could and most likely were contributing to the lengthy delivery and
Sarah was not inclined to panic yet.  But Scully was tiring.  She was
not getting much of a break between contractions and she was
convinced that something was wrong with her babies.  It wouldn't hurt
to check, just to be sure, Sarah reasoned.  She looked down and set
her hand on Scully's knee.

"All right, Dana," she said quickly.  "Let's take a look."  She bent
low and quietly gave Mary instructions on how to proceed with the
examination.  Mary slid a gloved hand into Scully's vaginal opening,
probing as gently as possible.  Scully moaned softly and turned her
face into Mulder's chest.  Her fingers locked around his wrists and
she tried not to tense against the invasion of Mary's hand.

"I can feel the baby's head!" Mary exclaimed, turning to look to her
mentor for further instructions.

"Be very careful," Sarah cautioned, "You should be able to feel the
baby's forehead and nose," she advised.  Mary did her best to block
out Scully's low exclamations of pain and the way her hips jerked,
instinctively trying to dislodge her hand.  She closed her eyes and
concentrated, probing gently with upturned fingertips.

"No," she said, turning again to Sarah.  "I can feel the back of the
baby's head," she told her in a low voice.  Mulder glanced up
sharply, alert to the note of anxiety that had entered Mary's voice.

"What is it?" he demanded tensely.  Sarah leaned forward to speak
with the distraught couple.

"The baby is facing the wrong way," she began.  Scully's eyes closed
in defeat and a tiny "No..." escaped her lips, but Mulder was more
vocal in his anxiety.

"Breech?  It can't be breech!" he exclaimed.  "Mary just said she
could feel the baby's head."  His eyes darted wildly between the two
women as he searched for an explanation.  Sarah shook her head and
tried again to explain.

"No, Mulder.  The baby is not in the breech position," she assured
him.  "But the baby is turned on its side."   Mulder rubbed
a hand over his bristled jaw and shook his head in confusion.

"I don't understand," he said.  "Can she deliver the baby this way?"
Sarah nodded and paused, thinking for a moment. 

"This happens sometimes and usually the baby turns into the correct
position before birth," she explained.  "But it slows the delivery
and Dana is so tired already.  I'm reluctant to let her labor
continue much longer.  It's stressful on Dana and the babies." 
Mulder's eyes were terrified as he looked down into his wife's
exhausted face.  

Jesus... if Sarah was suggesting Caesarian - if she was even
remotely contemplating the idea... Mulder could feel himself break
out into a cold sweat.  They were in the middle of nowhere, with a
nurse and a midwife - and a scared shitless former FBI profiler who
didn't know nothin' about birthin' no babies....  The only true
doctor in the room was fighting not to lose consciousness from the
body-wrenching contractions she'd been forced to endure in her quest
to give life to their children.  They were in a tiny cabin three
blocks away from a small clinic and there wasn't a way in Hell they
could even move her there.  

All of Scully's worries and anxieties of several weeks ago... every
word she'd cried out on his shoulder came pouring through his mind
harder than an avalanche.  They whipped themselves up into a dervish
of panic unlike anything he'd ever felt and as that panic-twister
churned over him Mulder had to bite his lip until it bled to keep
from yelling it aloud, and chance frightening his wife further.  It
stayed lodged in his chest and spilling from his eyes; luckily Scully
could not see the expression on his face.

But Sarah could... and she knew exactly what he was thinking.  She
had been a midwife for many, many years.  She had come across this
type of situation before... and she knew the first thing some fathers-
to-be thought of - especially the more educated ones - was
Caesarian... thinking that if a child couldn't be born with ease and
alternatives were mentioned that surgery was the only recourse. 
Sarah shook her head and sent a reassuring smile Mulder's way, and he
latched on to that smile the way a drowning man would clutch a life
preserver.  He took a deep, fortifying breath and fought to keep his
voice as evenly-pitched as possible. 

"Is there anything you can do?" He stroked shaking fingers over
Scully's pale cheeks.  Sarah nodded and laid a hand on Scully's
belly, calling to her.

"Dana," she said softly.  "Dana, look at me now, sweetheart.  I need
you to pay attention."  Scully roused slowly and lifted heavy eyelids
to meet the older woman's comforting gaze.  

"We're going to have to turn the baby, Dana," Sarah continued. 
"It's the fastest way to get these children born," she said gently. 
"I won't lie to you, Dear - it will hurt.  You are very small and
that is one big boy you have in there - just like his daddy."  Sarah
raised her head and winked at Mulder, who managed to smile even
though Sarah had just given credence to all the guilt with which he'd
been lashing himself.  

Big boy... just like him... his mother kidding around about Mulder's
delivery splitting her in half... the sudden paling of his father's
cheeks when she'd said those words - as if he'd been forced to
remember that day... shit.  Mulder could feel the dampness of his
face as his tears slipped down and dripped into Scully's sweat-soaked
hair.  He pressed his trembling lips into the top of her head and
prayed, hard.

At the thought of yet more pain, Scully began to sob quietly,
leaning back into Mulder's arms.  Mary moved to slide out from
between her legs, but Sarah laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. 
Mary looked up at the older woman in surprise, and a little panic.

"Oh, Sarah," she said.  "I don't know... maybe you should do this." 
Mary's eyes were unsure but Sarah shook her head and gave her a
small, confident smile.

"You're doing fine, Mary," she told her.  "Your hands are smaller
and more steady than mine, Child.  It's best if you do this.  Just
follow my directions, and you'll be okay."  Mary blew out a cautious
breath, nodding,  and resumed her position.  Mulder shot a concerned
look at Mary and then up at Sarah, but the midwife returned his gaze
calmly.

"We won't let anything happen to your family, Mulder," she promised.
"Now," she said to the room in general.  "Are we ready?"  Mary nodded
grimly and waited for Sarah's directions and Mulder turned his face
into his wife's hair, unable to watch.  Scully's hands convulsed
around the wooden handles in her grip as she braced herself once
again.

Sarah laid a calming hand on Mary's shoulder.  "We'll wait for the
next contraction," she began.  "You have to wait until it is over,"
she cautioned.  "Otherwise, the spasm of the muscles will make it
impossible for you to move the baby."  Mary nodded again and slid her
fingertips back inside of Scully so that she would be able to move
quickly when the contraction was over.  

"Cup the back of the baby's head completely with the palm of your
hand," Sarah continued, "and place your thumb on the forehead.  The
baby's head is soft, so you need to be very gentle," she reminded the
nurse.  "Move quickly, but you should only use your hand as support
while you twist your wrist and turn the baby.  As soon as the baby 
is in position, pull your hand back out."  

Mary blew out three quick breaths.  "Ready?" she asked Scully, who
nodded tiredly.  Everyone tensed as the next contraction built,
rippling across Scully's midsection and wringing a weak moan from
her.  As soon as the contraction lost its intensity, Mary was moving,
sliding her fingers the necessary few inches inside of Scully and
gently but firmly cupping the baby's head in her hand.  A scream was
torn from Scully's throat as pain exploded through her body.  Her
vision swam and blurred and she briefly lost consciousness.  Vaguely
she registered Mulder's hoarse curse as her head lolled and her body
slumped in the birthing chair.  So tired... God.  Just let me sleep...

Mary fought back tears and quickly righted the baby, sliding her
hand free and panting softly in relief.  She leaned forward and
lightly slapped Scully's cheek, rousing her friend.  Scully moaned,
as weak as a day-old kitten.

Scully was dimly aware of her husband frantically calling her name
and she blinked to clear her vision.  Mulder's terrified face swam
into view.  She tried to smile reassuringly but her face contorted
into a grimace as she was caught in the grip of another contraction. 
She could hear Mary urgently coaching her.

"Push, Dana. Come on!"  Scully's head fell forward, hanks of wet
hair swinging into her face.  Sweat dripped from her nose as she
strained to bring her baby into the world.  Exhausted, she collapsed
against the chair back as the contraction diminished in intensity.  

"That was great," Mary cheered.  "I can see the baby's head!"  She
reached out with one hand and tugged on Mulder's arm.  "Come here,
Mulder," she said.  "You don't want to miss this."  Mulder shifted a
bit and Scully clutched his arm with desperate fingers.

"Don't leave me," she cried, leaning heavily against him.  Mulder
stroked his hand over her hair and shook his head at Mary, content to
stay where he was.  But Sarah gently pushed on his shoulder.

"Just move to the side of the chair," she suggested.  "You can still
hold Dana, but you'll be able to see the babies, too."  Mulder
shifted on his knees until he was kneeling next to Scully instead of
behind her.  At this angle he could see enough to watch his
children's births and still comfort their mother.   Scully leaned
forward again to push and he ran one hand down her back and tightened
his grip around her fingers.  A low shriek was ripped from her as the
baby's head pushed insistently against her opening, her perineum
tearing slightly as the head slid through.  The pain of the tearing
just added into the jumble of agony her poor body had already endured
and Mulder's muscles ached for her, sympathy pains wracking his frame
as he held fast to Scully and whispered broken words of encouragement
to her.

"Don't push!" Sarah cautioned.  "Just a minute, Dana.  Stop
pushing."  Mary changed her grip on the baby's head and then nodded
to Scully who grunted, struggling to push the child out of her body. 
The shoulders popped free and the baby turned again, face up before
sliding in a long, liquid rush into Mary's waiting hands.  Mulder
stared, transfixed by the sight of his wife's body producing a real
live baby - his baby... he found himself thanking God and Allah and
Mohammed all in one fell swoop...

Mary looked up to see Scully fighting to hold her head up to see the
baby and tears shining in Mulder's eyes as he stared in wonder at his
child.  Those tears poured down his face when he saw which child had
been born first.

"It's a boy," he cried, reaching out with tentative hands.  Mary
lifted the baby into his arms and he held the baby close to Scully so
that she could see him while Mary clamped and cut the umbilical cord.
Scully lifted a shaking hand to skim her finger over the baby's soft,
wet cheek and Sarah stepped forward and took the baby from Mulder's
hands.

"I'll take care of him," she promised Scully, smiling at her.  "Your
work isn't finished yet."  Scully's lips moved silently as the pain
began to build once again.  Mulder threw a glance over his shoulder
to where Sarah was fussing over his son, before turning his attention
back to his laboring wife.  His love and pride for Scully swamped him
and he could barely speak for the emotion clogging his throat.

"Almost there, baby," he rasped, smiling through his tears.  "You're
almost there. Just a few more pushes and you can rest."  

Scully's breath escaped her in a long, determined exhale as she
steeled herself again.  Her focus was split now between the soft
snuffling wails of her son across the room and the pain centered
between her legs.  Gritting her teeth, she bore down again and with a
pop and a slide, felt the second life make its entrance into the
world.  She looked up frantically when neither Mary nor Mulder made a
sound.  Mulder's eyes were wide with amazement and tears were
tracking silently down Mary's cheeks as she moved quickly to cut the
second umbilical cord.  Their silence was the most frightening sound
Scully had ever heard...

************ 

~Chapter Thirty Nine ~


"What's wrong?" Scully cried, struggling to sit up as Mary handed
the tiny bundle to Mulder.  Sobs wracked his shoulders as he cradled
the baby against his chest, his lips moving gently over the child's
head.  He looked down into the face of their second little miracle
and his eyes filled again, these tears splashing on the blanket as he
finally turned to his wife and his watery gaze registered the alarm
in her face.  

Mulder smiled with such brilliance that it took her breath away... 
"A girl," he sobbed softly.  "Oh God, Scully.  A tiny, beautiful
girl."  

Gasping with joy, Scully's hands scrabbled for the delicate creature
in Mulder's arms and he laid their daughter within her mother's
embrace.  Scully traced trembling fingers over the fine tufts of dark
hair covering the baby's head.  She was dainty beyond belief and so
tiny it was a miracle she'd survived in the womb along with her much-
larger brother... sweet little perfect face and the most precious
rosebud mouth... she even had eyelashes.  Eyelashes, on a newborn
child... Scully fingered one miniscule hand, noting the long fingers.
Slender, bird-boned... normal.  God, so normal it hurt to look at
her...  Scully gave up trying to stem her tears and just let them
flow, all over her daughter and her husband.  Their miracles... a
girl and a boy...

Her boy.  Oh... there was a spot in the curve of her free arm, just
made to hold him, cradle him...

"I want to see my son," Scully sniffed, reaching out her other hand
toward Sarah.  The older woman brought the baby boy to his parents
and laid him in the curve of his mother's other arm.  He was still
covered in the birth fluids and his hair was wet, but Mulder was sure
that he saw a hint of red in the fuzz covering his son's head.  One
of their children would have Scully's glorious hair... he was so glad.

Twenty tiny fingers and twenty tiny toes were counted and exclaimed
over as the babies were christened with their parents' joyful tears. 
Mulder stroked his son's rounded little cheek while Scully just
stared at both her children in complete awe.  She could not believe
these two perfect creations had come from inside her.  She whispered
to Mulder, "I feel as if I'm the only woman in the world who has ever
given birth... silly, huh?"  Mulder shook his head and kissed her
soft mouth tenderly.

"As far as I'm concerned, Baby... you are."  The loving words made
her tear up again, her emotions running on a roller coaster high.  

"Oh, Mulder..."  

Reluctantly, Sarah gently interrupted, moving over to the birthing
chair and leaning down with a big smile on her face.   "Let me clean
them up, my dears," she said, holding out her arms.  Scully carefully
handed her babies into the woman's waiting arms and her eyes tracked
them from across the room as Mary kneaded her stomach, forcing the
delivery of the afterbirth.  She filled a basin with warm soapy water
and gently cleaned the blood and other birth fluids from between
Scully's legs, and gently patted her dry with a fluffy towel.  She
squirted a little body lotion into her hands and warmed it, then
applied it to Scully's legs, rubbing it into her reddened skin.  She
repeated the rubdown on her distended stomach as well, then pulled
the shirt down and bending in, kissed Scully's cheek before bestowing
a similar caress to Mulder's face.  She nodded toward the bedroom
door.

"Take her back to bed," she instructed Mulder.  He lifted Scully
with arms that were still shaking and carried her to the bed.  He
heard Sarah call to him softly, telling him the children were cleaned
and wrapped in their blankets, and he left the room when Scully
nodded that he should go get them.  He moved out of their bedroom so
fast that Scully chuckled wearily at the sight of those long legs of
his making such eager haste.

Mary helped her to finish washing up and to dress in a soft, cotton
nightgown.  She left the room briefly and returned with a warm
poultice which she applied to a cloth and which she placed between
Scully's legs to soothe and begin the healing process while warding
off any infection before helping Scully into a pair of cotton
panties.  Settled against the pillows, Scully pulled her friend into
her embrace.

"Thank you, Mary!" she cried.  "Oh God!  Thank you so much."  Mary
smiled and wrapped her strong arms tightly around Scully and the two
women rocked back and forth, finally breaking apart when Mulder
appeared in the doorway with a baby cradled in either arm.  Scully
held out anxious hands and he sat down on the edge of the bed, easing
first one and then the other baby into her waiting embrace.  The
sight of his wife sitting up in their bed dressed in a creamy soft
nightgown, holding his children, was a picture Mulder knew he'd never
tire of seeing.  His three babies, and each of them priceless beyond
measure, to him...  

He murmured the words aloud, adding, "Baby, I am so proud of you...
in awe of your strength, and your determination and courage... love
you, so much..." Scully smiled tremulously at her husband, whispering
the words right back at him, and then looked down at the warm little
bodies she held.

"Hi, babies," she cooed gently.  Mulder's arm slid around her
shoulders and he traced the index finger of his other hand over the
tiny noses of first one and then the other of his children, marveling
anew at their perfection.  Scully turned her face and pressed her
lips to his cheek, and then his mouth.

"Thank you, Mulder," she whispered against his lips.  "They're so
beautiful."  She turned her gaze back to her children, raptly
studying and memorizing each tiny feature.  When Mary came back in
the room with a heating pad in her hands for Scully's still-aching
back she found the new parents with identical grins on their faces,
just staring down at their newborn family in complete awe.  Mary
grinned a wide one herself, and laid the pad on the nightstand, then
caressed each downy little head.

"What are you going to name them?" she asked softly.  Scully looked
up briefly and then fixed her gaze back on the softly mewling
babies.  

"Zachariah and Hannah," she said quietly.  Glancing up at her
husband, she looked at him questioningly.  "Right?"

Mulder nodded and lifted his son out of his mother's arms.  "Hiya
Zach," he said, stroking a finger over the baby's mouth and smiling
as his little rosebud lips began smacking.  Scully had unbuttoned her
nightgown and Hannah was already rooting around for her mother's
nipple.  Scully lifted her breast with her free hand, brushing the
nipple against the little girl's cheek. The baby latched eagerly onto
her breast, vigorously suckling.  

"You should try to feed both babies at the same time, when you can,"
Sarah instructed from her station near the door.  With a smile Scully
unbuttoned her nightgown far enough to expose both breasts and Mulder
eased Zach into her free arm.  The baby boy searched for a second or
two before he found the nipple on his own, nursing ferociously. 
Scully jumped as his tiny mouth clamped around her tender flesh and
she raised awed eyes to Mulder's, whose expression seemed just as
awed.  She was nursing, not just one but two precious babes.  Neither
of them could quite believe it.  Mulder figured it would be several
days yet before any of this became truly real for them.  The odds
against this day ever occurring had been so damned high... and yet,
here they were.  Married, and parents of twins.  It was almost too
much; he could feel the residual emotion of it all clutching at him
and he found himself surreptitiously wiping away another tear or two
as he gazed down at the beautiful sight of his children feeding at
the breasts of the woman he worshipped...

Sarah and Mary slipped out of the room and closed the door behind
them, understanding that this was a vital time for the new Mulder
family, to bond with each other.  The two hard-working women were
both exhausted, ached all over and starved to boot.  Earlier in the
evening Mary had gotten word to Tara and had promised to keep her and
Bill apprised of the labor and delivery as it had progressed.  And
Tara had promised to stay home unless they were needed, knowing that
in the tiny cabin there would not be enough room for her and Bill. 
She had remarked that both of them could pace very well in their own
home... likewise Walter, her father and Michael - and all the other
residents of Mt. Vu'luk, who stayed in their homes and paced and
worried.  

Now the two weary women hugged in the living room, reactionary
emotion from the evening's high drama causing them to cry all over
each other.  Mary raised a shaky hand and wiped at first Sarah's
face, then her own, commenting in a teary voice, "If we go out there
like this they'll all think the worst, Sarah!  We have got to get
ourselves under control."  Sarah nodded and rubbed hard at her
cheeks, standing tall and straightening her rumpled clothes.  She
pointed down at herself.

"How do I look, Mary?  Not too afterbirth-y, am I?"  The younger
woman chuckled and shook her head, brushing at a spot of blood on
Sarah's sleeve.

"Not at all.  Just roll up your sleeves and nobody'll know.  How
about me?"  Mary scooped up her hair and twisted it into a fast
braid, rooting around in her pocket and finding a piece of yarn to
knot around the end.  Sarah looked her over, noticing the blood and
other assorted fluids sticking to her tee shirt.

"Button up your over-shirt, Mary, and you'll be fine."  The two
women got themselves straightened out and as presentable as possible,
then headed for the door.  It was late but they knew that there was
an entire village of people awaiting word of the births.  They opened
the door of the Mulder family cabin and stepped out into the early-
morning sunlight of the longest day of the summer solstice, their
smiling faces reflecting the joy of this nights' work. Down the
narrow street they went, knocking eagerly on doors.

****************

Mulder and Scully watched as Hannah tired first.  Smaller than her
brother by what appeared to be several pounds, her tummy was quickly
filled.  Her mouth stopped moving, tiny lips growing slack around her
mother's nipple as her eyes fluttered closed.  Mulder lifted his
daughter into his arms and rubbed at her little back to elicit a
burp, while Scully smoothed gentle fingers over the dark red hair of
her son as he continued to nurse at her breast, his teeny fist
kneading her plump flesh rhythmically.  Mulder grinned at the greedy
display and his low chuckle filled the silent room.

"Lusty little thing, isn't he?"  Scully stroked a hand along her
son's satiny shoulder as she responded to her husband's comment.

"He's enjoying himself, Mulder..."  The retort was meant to provoke
and Mulder took the bait willingly, loving the way they could now
joke and tease and just enjoy each other after months of worry.

"I can certainly understand why he'd enjoy, Baby..."  Cuddled up
beside her with his arms full of daughter and one warm hand covering
the breast she'd so recently vacated, Mulder ran a gentle thumb over
Scully's nipple, easing the soreness left behind from first-time
nursing.  They both watched little Zach's eyes glaze over with
drowsiness, full of milk and ready for sleep.  His eyelids drooped
and he was out for the count mere seconds later.  Scully eased her
nipple out of his mouth and shifted both of them into a more
comfortable position, yawning hugely, then sighing as Mulder gave her
a second massage with his thumb.

"That feels so good... can I hire you to perform this duty every
three hours, Mulder?  I promise to make it worth your while."  Her
husband hummed aloud, pretending to consider his options; Scully
pinched his arm for taking so long to answer her.  Mulder laughed
aloud and growled his decision onto her hair.

"Well, it's a dirty job but somebody's gotta do it..."  He kissed
her forehead tenderly, then whispered, "Look up, Scully..."  When she
did, he caught her mouth and kissed her again, deeply - holding two
objects of loveliness in his hands, her soft breast and their tiny
sleeping daughter.  With a final caress and one more kiss he released
her, then helped her to turn a bit on her side and pulled the covers
up around her and the babies.  Scully laid Zachariah on his back and
curled herself around him while Mulder snuggled little Hannah in one
arm and slipped his other under Scully's head to use as a pillow. 
She managed one last feathery kiss on his chin and a sleepy, "Love
you, Mulder..." before she succumbed to the overwhelming need for
sleep.  

Murmuring the words back to her, Mulder laid his head back on his
pillow and indulged himself in the sheer wonder of looking his fill -
of his wife, and his children.  He felt wide awake and was determined
not to waste a minute of just being able to watch his little family
sleep.  In the dim room of that early summer morning there wasn't
anything in the world more important than this - nothing more
priceless and rare.  It had taken them a long journey to get there,
but they'd made it.  Mulder whispered it into Scully's hair, before
the exhaustion of the day poured over him and he, too slept -

"We made it, Baby... all of us."

******************

Although Mom and Pop Mulder had gotten very little sleep that first
night, they were awake and ready for the deluge of visitors who
crowded into their little cabin later that morning.  

Mary had to just about hog-tie Michael to keep him from pounding on
their door at six AM.  The boy was so excited he wouldn't eat.  Tara
sent him outside to feed the chickens and the goats, with a strict
admonishment to stay away from the cabin one circle over until she
said he could go there.  Michael hung his head and grumbled a lot,
but he whistled to Nanook and they set off for the barn.  

Mary stretched and meandered back into the bedroom, reaching the bed
and staring down at her husband.  Walter had commandeered her side of
the bed as soon as she'd vacated it, and had managed to wind himself
into all the blankets as well, somewhat resembling a mummy.  Mary
perched on the edge of the bed and carefully tugged some of the
bedclothes aside, then used one delicate finger to etch a random
design over his muscled back and down the center of his spine. 
Walter stirred and mumbled in his sleep, burrowing his face deeper
into the pillow.  Mary leaned over him and let her tongue mimic the
movement of her finger, following the same path.  

Walter groaned under his breath and his body shifted restlessly as
the feel of her tongue began to rouse him in several interesting
places.  Mary kept up the maddening caress until he turned over on
his back, opening one eye groggily.  His wife grinned down at him
impishly and he yawned in her face, swamping her with morning breath.
Mary never flinched; she propped her chin on his chest and watched
the never-boring sight of Walter Skinner awakening in the morning...

One eye open, dark and lazy... sleep-flushed cheeks and overnight
beard stubble giving his handsome face a curiously boyish appeal.  A
strong hand coming up to rub at his head and with both eyes open
struggling to focus without his glasses, the somewhat myopic stare
sexy as hell... drowsy nude body beneath the sheets stirring to life
against her and lastly, the million-watt smile, sleepy but oh so
lethal... directed at her.  

Mary Skinner felt like one lucky lady, every morning of her life
since the day she'd first awoken with this incredible man in her
bed.  

Walter slid warm hands over his wife's shining hair and braided his
fingers through the cool strands, pulling her down for a morning
kiss.  She tasted like coffee and mint and he swallowed her flavor
eagerly as she opened her mouth against his and her tongue sent a
morning greeting to his.  He'd put her to bed early that morning,
after she and Sarah had spread the news about the babies; she had
finally come home dead on her feet, smelling of one or more feminine
bodily fluids and wound up tighter than a mainspring in spite of her
exhaustion.  He'd carried her into the bathroom and given her a quick
sponge bath while she'd sat on the toilet lid and swayed, already
mostly asleep.  He'd picked her up and carried her to bed and had
cuddled her into his arms, kissing her gently and smiling into her
hair when she'd mumbled, "We have babies, Walter..." He'd replied
against her hair as she'd fallen into a light snore. 

"I know, love... and I am so proud of you..."

Now Mary kissed her husband good morning and let herself enjoy the
way his strong body moved beneath hers as he responded to her
nearness and warmth.  She whispered into his mouth, "Mmm, you feel
wonderful... and you were so sweet to clean me up and put me to bed
last night..."  

Walter pulled back a little and looked into her face, surprised. 
"You were awake?  You snored while I washed your face, Mary!"   She
shrugged a little and brushed her lips over his chin.

"I was in and out of it, I think.  But it was still sweet of you." 
She kissed him once more and sat up, stretching.  Walter eyed her
taut form with lazy hunger and reached for her with every intention
of pulling her underneath him and enjoying a little 'morning
delight'... Mary chuckled and wriggled out of reach, shaking her head
at him.

"Uh-uh, Husband... not now.  If I let you take me we won't leave
this bed for hours!  And I want you to see little Zach and Hannah."  

"Are those their names?  I asked you last night but all I got for an
answer was one slurred word that sounded like 'Hazzack...' I didn't
think it was anyone's real name!"  Walter dodged the cuff she sent
his way and grabbed her around the waist, squeezing her until she
squealed, then set her aside and climbed out of bed, dragging her
after him.  Mary followed her husband into their small bathroom,
unable to take her eyes off his narrow hips and tightly-muscled
buttocks.  She swallowed hard and mumbled under her breath as they
shared the sink and mirror, brushing her hair while Walter took care
of his morning breath.  

"Well... maybe we'll just cut the visit short..."

*****************

Bill chomped at the bit while he waited for Tara to finish feeding
Meggie her soft-boiled egg.  Next to him on the sofa Matty bounced up
and down, screeching loudly about the vital need to, 'See my babies,
NOW, Daddy!'  Bill winced as his son got a bit too close to his poor
ear with that last holler, and wrestled the squirming boy onto his
lap, trying to no avail to calm him down.  And after a few minutes
Bill found his son's excitement catching.  He tapped his foot and
stared hard at Tara, willing her to hurry.

Tara was understandably as anxious as her husband was, to see their
new nephew and niece.  But Meggie was a slow, methodical child when
she ate - it had always been this way.  Tara could remember more than
one occasion when she would be the first to doze off during nursing,
rather than her baby who would still be feeding slowly and steadily
as her mother fell asleep.  

Meggie smacked her lips around the spoon Tara was helping her to
hold; with yolk smeared on her nose and her mouth full of egg white
she was adorable to behold.  She looked over at her father, sitting
impatiently on the sofa, and sent him a wide grin, which caused
several pieces of chewed-up egg white to fall out of her mouth and
land on her navy blue romper.  Matty immediately zeroed in on the
messy display and hooted, "Meggie's sloppy!  Meggie's a piggie!" 
Bill clamped a hand over his son's mouth while Meggie shrieked with
laughter and Tara tried to wipe egg off her face and clothes.  Meggie
squirmed and giggled and Tara finally threw up her hands in
frustration, glaring at Bill and Matty whose tussling session on the
sofa had somehow gotten reduced down into a tickle-fest.  Tara 
shouted above the three-way hooting.

"Bill, Matty... STOP!  We're leaving - NOW.  I want to see my niece
and nephew before they're old enough to start school!  I'm taking
Meggie in to change her clothes and when I get back you'd better be
at the door and ready..."  Bill immediately sobered up and stood,
prepared to get the show on the road - and their impish son clambered
to the floor, ran over to his exasperated mother and adopting a stiff
military posture, saluted her.

"Yes, SIR!"  Giggling, Matty made a run for it, disappearing into
his room before either of his parents could retaliate. Tara slapped
her hands on her hips and rounded on her grinning husband, who tried
to lose the grin and failed miserably.  He held up two hands to ward
her off, chuckling helplessly.

"Tara, honest - I didn't teach him that!"

******************

The living room of the Mulder family was packed to the gills, noisy
as could be and overflowing with food that threatened to collapse the
tiny kitchen table upon which the various dishes sat.  Most of the
action centered in and around the small bedroom, where Scully lay
propped up against a stack of pillows watching her brother make a
complete idiot of himself in the vain hope that Hannah would give a
genuine smile rather than one induced by gas.  The sight of her
brawny sibling sitting on a corner of her bed with Hannah in his big
hands, tittering baby talk to her was a true Polaroid moment, Scully
decided, then grinned up at Mulder as he came in the room carrying a
plate heaped with food.  Above the masculine gurgling and baritone
cooing of her brother, Scully eyed the loaded plate with trepidation.

"Mulder, I couldn't possibly eat all of that!  What were you
thinking?"  Her husband smiled sweetly at her, shoving the plate into
her hands, then dug in his pocket and pulled out two forks.  He
snuggled in next to her and handed her a fork.

"Who says it's all yours?  Sharing, woman... that's what it's all
about."  Mulder dug a fork into a mound of broccoli casserole and
waved it under her nose temptingly, before shoving it into his mouth
and humming in pleasure over the taste.  Scully shook her head and
speared some for herself, still amazed at the sight of Fox Mulder,
the original broccoli-hater, chowing down with eagerness.  If nothing
else, his eating habits had come a long way since they'd moved to the
Last Frontier...  She chewed thoughtfully, eyeing her husband.

"I sure hope that attitude overflows into three AM poopy diaper
changings, Hubby..."  Bill paused in his adoration of his niece long
enough to snicker loudly, then spout sage advice in a serious intone.

"It's a husband's sworn duty, Bro... you have to do it.  If you
don't, I'll hear about it - and then I'll have to get up out of my
warm comfortable bed, tearing myself from my woman's arms, and come
over here to indulge in a little Mulder-Ass kicking..."  From across
the room Bill's 'woman' paused long enough from waltzing her sleepy
nephew around the tiny space over by the window, to gag at his smug
words and glare at him.

"William Scully, don't even think about lying in front of these
innocent babies!  And don't make me tell your sister about how many
times I had to push your snoring butt out of our bed to cover those
three AM changings... don't even.  We're not going there."  Tara
sniffed at her grinning husband disdainfully and moved out of the
bedroom toward the mob in the next room with the sleeping Zach in her
arms, muttering about lazy fathers, and handed her precious nephew
over to an eager Sophie, before coming back to Bill and plucking her
equally-precious niece out of his hands.

"My turn, Billy - go feed yourself."  Bill sighed dramatically as he
lumbered to his feet and dragged himself off to the kitchen, tossing
one last bit of advice over his shoulder to his brother-in-law.

"Don't let my sister boss you around, Mulder - nip it in the bud,
now.  You can see for yourself what happens when the 'Little Woman'
gets a little hair on her chest..."  Mulder exploded into laughter
and Tara was scandalized.

"BILLY!"

********************

Throughout the day Scully slept off and on, finding that she tired
easily.  Secure in the knowledge that their friends understood
completely, she let herself sleep when needed, figuring her body had
a ways to go to finish the healing process.  When she'd awoken that
morning she'd been running a slight fever and Mulder had hovered over
her like a mother hen.  She'd assured him she was fine and he'd piled
on an extra blanket to keep her warm, before handing her their
freshly-bathed twins for their morning meal.  Scully had been
impressed.

"Mulder... when did you bathe them?  I never heard a thing!"  Scully
had opened her nightgown and helped each child to find and fasten
onto a nipple, while Mulder sat beside her and stroked her tumbled
hair.  He'd kissed her head.

"I'm fast with the soap and water, Baby.  Hannah never even woke up,
lazy girl.  It took me maybe a minute.  I dressed her and plopped her
back in her cradle and had Zach half-done before he even awoke - then
I just shoved a pacifier in his mouth.  I don't think he did more
than squeak maybe twice."  Mulder took Hannah from her mother and
propped her on his shoulder to pat a burp from her, which she'd
dutifully emitted before snuggling in and falling asleep again.  He'd
rubbed her little back soothingly and watched her greedy brother as
he continued to nurse like there was no tomorrow.

"I can already see the writing on the wall, Mulder... your son will
tower over you and outweigh you by twenty pounds or more."  Scully
had stroked Zach's downy head as he finally slacked off a little, and
burped into her breast without any help from her.  She'd smiled
softly.  "Independent, too, I see.  Just like Daddy..."   

Their friends had come and gone all morning and afternoon, bringing
food and little gifts and more well-intended advice, which she and
Mulder had taken with a resigned smile.  Everyone wanted the best for
the little family and Scully appreciated it more than she could ever
say.  Having so many instant baby-sitters in the cabin gave Scully
plenty of chances to sleep.  Mulder had awoken her a few times for
feedings, but other than that she'd been allowed to doze when
necessary.  And she hadn't apologized once for snoozing when there
were people in her bedroom visiting with her, although Michael had
complained teasingly about her snoring right in the middle of a
discussion about when he could come over and sit for the babies.  

Scully had hugged him in apology and the teenager had accepted it
eagerly, once more a happy boy with the dark shadows forever banished
from his eyes.  Scully knew the transformation had everything to do
with the love and caring of not just Mary but Skinner as well -
taking his fathering duties very seriously.  And Michael adored
him... 

For Mulder the best part of the day centered around the way their
Native family embraced his children and fussed over them, promising
not with words so much as actions their dedication and determination
to help keep them safe.  Mulder wasn't a daydreaming fool; never had
been.  He knew the danger wasn't past; knew they would never be able
to relax their guard.  Months ago when Krycek had invaded their
village and threatened their lives, his final words had been a vow
and a taunt - that the surviving human race still had much to fear
from the alien colonists.  Here above the Arctic Circle they were
safer than most but not immune to it.  

Manly had come to him the morning after Krycek's demise, and had
told him reassuringly not to worry about the chances of anyone
finding the body.  Mulder had looked into the calm, dark eyes of his
friend, and had not asked - and Manly had gripped his shoulder
fondly, had kissed Scully on her soft cheek and had gone on his quiet
way.  Scully had turned into Mulder's arms and whispered, "Do we want
to know, Mulder?"  He'd shaken his head and had cradled her close.

"No, Scully... we don't."

*********************

Later that evening when the last visitor had left, passing around
hugs and kisses and exacting promises to let them know anything
further that could be done to make these first weeks easier... Mulder
finally shut the front door and leaned against it with a sigh.  He
looked around the cabin; it was spotless.  Beverly and Sarah had
whipped through like mini-tornados, cleaning up dishes and leftover
food and even swiping the few soiled diapers and baby clothes they'd
used, vowing to clean them and bring them back the next day.  Mary
had left a venison pot roast on the stove, the heavenly smell of it
simmering through the rooms, and a window open in the kitchen let in
the freshness of another sunny summer night.

Near the stove Nanook raised her head and whined softly, then rose
to her feet and padded over to press against Mulder's side.  Mulder
squatted down and rubbed the dog's ears, eliciting licks and more
whining and much tail thumping.  The faithful dog had refused to
leave Scully's side and Michael had finally given up trying to coax
her out and had promised to drag her home in the morning.  Mulder
didn't care if the dog never left; he owed her a lot for taking such
good care of Scully during her confinement.  And if today was
anything to judge it looked as if Nanook's dedication would spill
over onto the babies, as she'd plopped down on her haunches wherever
the twins were being held and fussed over, watching them in true
guard-dog fashion.

Hearing a soft mewling in the bedroom Mulder made his way over to
the cradles nestled side by side near the far wall.  Zach was awake
and had an entire fist crammed into his mouth, sucking like mad. 
Mulder chuckled and lifted his son from his warm little bed, checking
his diaper with one hand and holding his head securely with the
other.  He couldn't be sure but he could swear the little guy had
already gained a pound or two from all the eating he'd been doing so
far.  

Mulder walked to the window and pulled aside the blinds, showing
Zach the summer evening sky glowing softly blue.  "Another sunny
night, Son - bet you can't wait to get out there and start hitting
baseballs, huh?"  The child stared up at his father with myopic baby
eyes, yawning around his wet fist, obviously less thrilled about the
prospect of running bases as he was in getting hold of his mother's
nipple. As if on cue Zach opened up his lung capacity and let his
daddy know in no uncertain terms his fondest desire.  And across the
room Mulder heard a sleepy giggle from his wife.

"Mulder... the last thing on that child's mind is slapping around a
piece of horsehide..."  

Mulder turned from the window and walked to the bed, smiling at the
sight of Scully all tousled and rosy from sleep, holding out her arms
to her men.  He sank to the bed next to her and transferred their
son, then stood up to get Hannah, remembering Sarah's admonishment to
feed them both at the same time whenever possible.  He picked up his
sleeping daughter and got her settled, then kissed Scully's head and
went to the door to let Nanook out and run for a bit.  Shutting the
door, Mulder headed back in to have dinner with his children, and
maybe catch a catnap of his own.  He was suddenly very tired.

********************

Scully sighed with relief and relaxed into the pillows.  Mulder was
asleep on his back in the bed next to her and little Zach was
sprawled comfortably across his father's chest. One of Mulder's big
hands rested securely over the baby's diapered bottom. Scully smiled
tenderly at the picture they made. Both of her boys' stomachs were
pleasantly full - Zach's with breast milk and Mulder's with a
piece of the homemade raspberry cake that Beverly had left behind.
They were sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted. 

Hannah fussed slightly when Scully's nipple slipped from her little
mouth and Scully switched the tiny girl to her other breast,
carefully lifting the nipple into the baby's mouth. Zach had taken to
breastfeeding like a champion and would suckle to the point of being
piggish, but Hannah tired quickly and tended to fall asleep easily at
the breast. Scully tickled the baby's feet and lightly pinched her
teensy toes, trying to wake her up again so that she could finish
eating. Weighing in at only a little over four pounds, it was easy to
see how Hannah had hidden behind her bigger, brawnier, older brother.

Hannah yawned daintily and let the nipple slip out of her mouth
again. Her tiny limbs stretched and she blinked at her mother with
sleepy eyes. Scully studied her daughter's face carefully, noting the
dark hair, so like her father's. Both children had inherited their
father's pouting lower lip as well as the arch of his brows. Scully's
heart clenched with love for her small daughter and she lowered her
lips to the baby's silky hair, whispering kisses and words of love
against the frail skin of her cheek. She was completely in love with
both of her children and it broke her heart to remember that she had
spent weeks fearing this creature who had turned out to be her
beautiful, sweet baby girl. She lifted Hannah's hand to her mouth and
pressed apologetic kisses into the tiny palm, vowing that this
darling child would never know that there had been a time when her
mother had doubted and questioned her very existence.

"Mama loves you, Hannah," she whispered, lifting the baby to her
shoulder. Hannah shifted, looking for a comfortable spot and turning
her face into her mother's neck. Scully's eyes closed blissfully as
the little girl's breath puffed sweetly against her neck; her
diapered bottom sagged in the cradle of Scully's arms as she
slept trustingly in her mother's loving embrace.

********* 

~ Chapter Forty ~ 

Mulder made his way through the village, crossing the outer circle
of cabins on his way to the greenhouse.  He felt good - incredibly
good.  Zach and Hannah were two weeks old today.  It was late June
and was finally warm enough for him to leave his jacket at home.  He
stopped walking to stretch his arms over his head as he basked in the
golden sun and took a look around the village.  The snow was almost
entirely gone now.  It didn't melt here the way it did back in D.C. 
No - in Alaska the climate varied from wet and humid along the
coastal regions to almost desert-arid in the Interior and northern
ranges - and this far inland the snow was so dry it seemed to
evaporate rather than melt.  

He could see the arctic grass growing in abundance over the uneven,
spongy tundra.  Trees and bushes that only a week ago had begun to
bud were now covered in almost fully-grown leaves and the vegetables
in the greenhouse seemed to magically grow plump and ripe in a matter
of days.  The constant daylight would speed up the growing process to
warp factor in the summer months.  Mulder spotted a snowshoe hare
dart across an open field; having lost its winter camouflage coat of
pure white, the hare was a mottled mix of brown and white.  The whole
village seemed to be taking on new life and color as summer burst
upon it in all of its shining glory.

Mulder stared into the low-hanging arctic summer sun, and thought
how good it was to be alive, today.

Overhead, he saw a small plane bank above the landing strip before
dropping out of sight behind a small copse of trees.  Manly had taken
the prop plane to Barrow that morning to pick up several new panes of
glass for the greenhouse, intending to replace those that were
showing signs of wear after the harsh winter.  Mulder was glad Manly
had been willing to go - a roof in their village could go without
repair but the greenhouses were their sustenance.  If they ever lost
the use of one they'd be up the creek, so to speak.

A few moments later, Mulder heard a dog barking excitedly and turned
to see what kind of mischief Nanook had gotten into, but the Husky
was nowhere to be seen.  Then, through the narrow thicket of trees
separating the water treatment plant from the airstrip, he saw a
small group of strangers making their way into the village.   Manly
had not mentioned plans to bring anyone back to Mt. Vu'luk with him
and Mulder's hand slid to the holster secured to the back of his
jeans. Krycek's lesson had taught him the hard way that they could
not allow themselves to fall into a false sense of security again. 
Still, there was something almost familiar...  Mulder lifted a hand
to shield his eyes from the glaring rays of the sun and squinted into
the distance.  He could see a dog cavorting around the legs of one of
the strangers, tall with flowing blonde hair...

Flowing blonde hair.  Buddy-Holly glasses... oh, SHIT!  "Langly?
Langly!"  Mulder stared, disbelieving, then broke into a run.  

"Byers!  Frohike!" he shouted as his feet pounded over the grass. 
The trio looked over at the man racing toward them and they veered
away from the group, hurrying to meet him.  They fell onto Mulder,
each of them yanking him into a bone-crushing hug.  Mulder slapped
his hands on their backs, overjoyed at seeing his friends, healthy
and whole.  A golden retriever raced around the four men, barking
madly as their voices rose in a jumbled flurry of exclamations.

Mulder clasped Frohike by the arms and yanked the little man close
again.  Slinging an arm around his shoulders, he beamed at the other
two men.

"I had almost given up on you," he cried happily.  The dog's excited
barking and their frenzied chatter drew a crowd as the small group of
travelers who had arrived with the Gunmen and a number of curious
villagers made their way over to the jubilant group of men.

"Damn!" came a booming shout as Skinner hurried out of the treatment
plant to see what the commotion was all about.  "There goes the
neighborhood!" Wiping greasy hands down the legs of his jeans, he
reached out to Byers who clasped his proffered hand in a hearty
shake.  

"How the hell are you, Goldilocks?" he asked as he enthusiastically
shook hands with Langly.  Planting his hands on his hips, he grinned
as Frohike stepped forward and he excitedly pumped hands with the
smaller man.

"Good to see you, Walter," Frohike said, the solemn words at odds
with the happy sparkle in his eyes.  Skinner nodded in agreement.

"It certainly is, Melvin.  It's very good to see all of you."  Byers
looked into the crowd gathered curiously about them, searching for a
familiar face that he hadn't yet seen.

"Where is Agent Scully?" he asked as he continued searching through
the crowd for a glimpse of her bright hair.  A slow smile spread over
Mulder's face as he thought of the surprise waiting for his friends. 
Wrapping an arm around Byers' shoulder and the other around Langly's,
he began to herd the men toward his home.

"Come on," he said.  "She'll want to see you right away."  Mulder
smiled reassuringly at the two men and the young child who'd
obviously been traveling with the Gunmen, and without having to ask,
Skinner immediately took them under his wing, introducing himself and
leading them off toward the Gathering Hall.  

Meanwhile, Mulder led his friends through the village, choosing to
hold off on asking them for the details of their trip.  They had a
lot to talk about, but first he wanted to introduce the guys to his
new family.  They turned into the inner circle of cabins.

"That's our place," he said, pointing to the small cabin.  Looking
over his shoulder at his friends, he held his index finger over his
lips, hushing them as he wrapped his hand around the doorknob.  Broad
smiles covered the men's faces and they nodded quietly as they filed
into the cabin behind him.  Mulder led them into the house and
crossed the living room.  Stopping outside of the half-open bedroom
door, he cocked his head to one side, listening to the quiet murmurs
coming from within - and suppressed a smile.  Gesturing with his
hand, he beckoned the other men close as he silently pushed the door
open wide.  The three men stepped forward and then stopped in shock,
transfixed by the pretty little tableau being played out before them.

Scully's rapt attention was focused so firmly on her children, that
she was unaware of her audience.  She was stretched out in the center
of the bed and her long hair hung in a coppery curtain around her
babies.  Both infants were clad in diapers and tiny T-shirts and
Mulder and his friends watched her push Zach's T-shirt up to his
chest.

"Mama's gonna get your belly," she murmured as she pressed smacking
kisses against his chubby tummy above the snowy white diaper.  The
baby pulled his knees up to his chest and waved his hands in glee,
tangling his fingers in his mother's hair as Scully turned her
attention to the other baby.

"What are you doing, Hannah-Banana?" she asked.  "Are you hungry
yet?"  She lowered her lips to the baby's neck, drawing her
daughter's milky, talcum powder scent into her lungs.  The little
girl's hand slapped softly against Scully's cheek and she turned her
face to press a kiss into the baby's palm, pretending to nibble on
the tiny fingers poking into her mouth.  

Mulder cleared his throat softly.  "Scully, look who I found," he
said as he led his friends into the bedroom.  Scully looked up
curiously and a wide smile of delight bloomed over her face.  She
pushed herself up, wincing slightly as she untangled Zach's small
fingers from her hair and scrambled to her feet next to the bed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.  "Oh, Thank God... Langly, Byers!" She held out
her hands and the two men awkwardly crossed the room and were quickly
enveloped in her strong embrace.  "We've been waiting for you for so
long," she murmured, surprising them with the strength of her
emotions and the warmth of her hug.  She laid a huge kiss on each
blushing cheek of their old friends, then took a step back and turned
to Frohike.

"Frohike," she smiled softly, bright tears standing in her blue
eyes.   He stepped forward to sweep her into a crushing embrace and
she sniffed and laughed at the same time.  "We've been worried," she
whispered quietly.  The small man nodded and set her away from him as
Mulder moved closer.  Scully dashed an escaping tear from the corner
of her eye, suddenly remembering the babies...

"Oh!" she cried.  Turning, she sat down on the edge of the mattress
and expertly scooped both infants into her arms.  She felt Mulder
sink down onto the bed behind her and she smiled encouragingly at the
men looming over her; the looks on their faces were just priceless.  

"I'd like you to meet our children," she said happily.  "This is
Zachariah," she introduced, tilting her head to the left and smiling
down at her little boy.  "And this," she said, switching her
attention to the other baby, "is Hannah."  

Never had three grown men developed a hot case of shyness this
quickly, Mulder thought, as he watched the way their friends reacted
to the twins.  Langly hung back, waving awkwardly at the babies
before stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, but
Byers swallowed his shyness attack and leaned down to formally shake
hands with both Zach and Hannah.

"I'm very pleased to meet you both," he said and though the words
were reserved, there was a smile very much evident on his blushing
face and in his voice.  He straightened up and studied the small
family seated on the edge of the mattress.  The change in them was
remarkable.  Mulder was relaxed, the restlessness that Byers had
always associated with his friend seemingly tempered by an air of
contentment.  And the haunted look that Byers had grown used to
seeing in Mulder's eyes... gone.

But the most dramatic changes could be found in Scully.  The woman
he remembered had been an intimidating combination of beauty and
brains; a woman who wore a mantle of pain and loss with great dignity
and poise.  And although he suspected that those things still lurked
beneath the surface, everything about her spoke of softness and love.
His eyes took in the confident and casual way she leaned back against
Mulder's chest.  Her arms were filled with babies that she never
thought she would have and her eyes sparkled with happiness as she
looked into their tiny faces.  Her hair, once expertly cut and
styled, now curled around her face and shoulders.  The strong, lithe
figure that he remembered as sometimes too thin, sometimes too
angular, was softer and curvier.  

Scully's eyes glimmered merrily as looked up from her babies. 
"Frohike?" she prompted in a low voice as she gently jostled the
infants in her arms.  He dropped down onto his knees before the small
family in order to get a better look at the children.  He was simply
overwhelmed by the sight before him.  His dear friends... married, if
those unusual-looking rings on their left fingers were anything to go
on.  And parents as well.  It was almost too much... and he was so
very happy for them both.  It had been a hell of a long time coming...

Frohike cautiously lifted Hannah from her mother's arms and gently
held her close to his face.  Her tiny hand slapped out, knocking his
glasses askew and Scully smiled as she watched the grizzled
surveillance expert fall under her daughter's spell.

"Was it hard to find us?" Scully asked him as Frohike stroked a
calloused finger over the soft skin of Hannah's cheek.  He shook his
head and pressed his bearded cheek to the child's forehead, awed at
the tender silk of her skin.

"We followed the star," he murmured impudently, shooting a sly grin
at Scully before raising his head and making funny faces for Hannah's
benefit.  Scully looked startled for a moment and then she giggled,
burying her face in Zach's neck, drawing a mewling gurgle from the
little boy.  Mulder snorted and reached down to lift his daughter out
of Frohike's arms.

"Come on baby girl," he said.  "Daddy'll save you from the crazy
man," he declared heroically, and pressing kisses into her dark hair,
he carried her to the other side of the room where he joined Byers
and Langly in a low conversation.  

Frohike eased himself onto the mattress next to Scully and poked out
a finger at Zach, who immediately grasped it and tried to shove it
into his little mouth.  "Kid's got a good grip," he said admiringly
as he waggled his finger, shaking the baby's hand.  Scully smiled
softly.  She threw a glance over her shoulder to where Mulder was
gesturing broadly with one hand, while holding a sleepy Hannah
securely against his shoulder with the other and then she looked back
at the man seated beside her making fish faces at her son.

"He missed you," she said simply.  More unshed tears brightened her
eyes.  "We both did."  Frohike nodded furiously, ducking his head to
play with the baby's toes as he fought down the sudden lump in his
throat.  There were many things he wanted to say to this woman that
he'd adored from afar for so very long.  He'd had a serious crush but
had always known he wouldn't be the man to win her heart.  It had
belonged to Mulder almost from the beginning... it had just taken
them longer to figure it out.  Meanwhile Melvin Frohike had gone on
with the life he'd been assigned - but he'd never lost his tendre for
Dana Scully.  And he hadn't gotten a chance to express his sympathy
at her grievous family loss, so he made amends for that as they sat
together on the bed and shared Zach.

"Scully, the guys and I wanted you to know... we were so sorry to
hear about your mother, and your brother and family.  Mrs. Scully was
a real special lady.  I wish I'd gotten to know her better."  Frohike
was blushing furiously but his words were from the heart and that's
what mattered.  Scully wrapped strong fingers around his and he
studied the soft, smooth skin of the small hand pressed firmly
against his own.  He squeezed her hand and added, "That last day,
before you all left - it was hard seeing you go.  We didn't think we
would ever see you again.  I can't tell you what being here means to
us."  

Scully smiled the most brilliant smile right at him, and laid her
soft cheek down on their clasped fingers, pressing it into the back
of his hand.  He felt one warm tear splash on his skin and fought to
keep his emotions in check.  Scully raised her head and locked eyes
with him, seeing beneath the glasses that hid his eyes... 

And if they'd shared their thoughts at that very moment it would
have been a good bet that each was thinking how lucky they were - to
be safe and at the end of a very long journey and back with family
that meant the world, to them.  Scully cleared her throat and managed
to hold her voice steady.

"Thank you, Frohike.  It means the world to us, as well.  So many
times Mulder tried to contact you; he was just beside himself with
worry when your email finally came through.  Very clever, by the way -
Ringo, and George.  It tickled me to no end when Mulder told me how
Langly had disguised his email."  Frohike chuckled and Scully joined
him, then said, "And thank you for your sympathy concerning my
family.  I had a hard time, at first - but everything happens for a
reason.  I have to hold onto that thought.  Besides, I'll see them
again, someday."  Scully smiled sadly and slipped her arm through
his, holding him close to her side.  

"Zach and Hannah are being christened on Sunday," She told him. 
"I'm so glad you made it in time."  Frohike chanced a glance upward
and saw another tear brim over her lashes and spill down her cheek.  

"So am I," he rasped in a choked voice.  "I wouldn't have missed it
for the world," he vowed.  Scully nodded and pressed closer, feeling
him wrap his arms tentatively around her and the baby.  She blew out
a shaky breath and brushed her lips against his rough cheek.  He felt
good... he felt like home.

"Welcome home, Melvin," she whispered.  Rarely had Scully ever called
him by his given name, and Frohike was touched. His arms tightened 
around her, squeezing a protest out of Zach as he was squashed 
between them. Frohike moved back a little and smoothed a hand over 
the wispy dark red hair that curled lightly over the baby's head.

"Sorry little guy," he apologized.  Zach cast a baleful eye at the
older man and grumpily turned his head toward his mother's breast,
rooting and snuffling softly.  Frohike leapt from the bed as if
electrocuted and Scully rolled her eyes as he stumbled toward the
safety of his friends.  It took every ounce of willpower she had not
to laugh aloud in pure joy - maybe she'd save it for later, after the
babies were asleep.

"Mulder," she called, a lilt of laughter evident in her voice. 
"Bring Hannah over here," she said.  "I want to nurse them before
they take their nap."  The Gunmen fell over each other in their hasty
dash through the bedroom door.  Mulder grinned and waited until
Scully had finished baring her breasts before easing his infant
daughter into her mother's arms.  Zach was already suckling greedily
and as always, Hannah had to be led to the nipple.  Once both
children were happily nursing, Mulder stroked a hand over his wife's
hair.

"Skinner and I are going to take the guys on a tour of the village,"
he said, checking to be sure that she didn't need him for anything. 
Scully nodded, her attention already refocusing itself on the babies.
Mulder knelt and pressed a kiss on all three dear cheeks before
rising to leave the room.

"Mulder?" she called and he turned back to look into her uplifted
face.  Scully smiled as she took in the look of sheer joy in Mulder's
eyes.  She knew that as the months had dragged on without further
word from their friends, anxiety over their safety had dragged at
him.  

"Bring them back here for dinner tonight," she said.  "We have a lot
to catch up on."  

*******************

They walked through the quiet village with two excited dogs dancing
around each other.  Mulder hadn't realized just how starved Nanook
had been for canine companionship until he'd seen the way she reacted
upon initial contact with the big retriever.  He'd asked the guys how
they'd come upon him and Langly had explained.

"We were just outside of Saskatoon.  God, what a mess - Jesus it
hurt to look out the windows, man.  Bodies everywhere.  It was awful.
Anyway we were running on fumes; we had to stop.  We found a little
Mom and Pop gas station and of course it was deserted, lots of bodies
to step over.  I started pumping gas and was just topping off when
from outta nowhere I get jumped by this dog."  Langly glared at the
retriever, remembering his fear when the animal had leapt upon his
back, hot doggy breath fanning his neck.  

He continued, "I thought I was a goner, for sure - I mean, look at
the size of those jaws!"  As if the dog could somehow figure out he
was the topic of conversation he stopped cavorting with Nanook and
dashed over, about knocking Langly down in his attempt to get in his
face and slobber a large pink tongue all over him.  Langly suffered
the affection for about three seconds before pushing the dog away,
and the good-natured animal bounded back to Nanook and promptly
shoved his nose into her backside.  Skinner barked out a bellow of
laughter and the others snickered loudly.  

"Yeah, I can see where a mouth like that might scare you, Langly -
especially knowing where it's been!"  Skinner was having the time
of his life, teasing the younger man.  Langly snorted and resumed his
story.

"As I was saying... after that horse knocked me down and I figured
out I wasn't gonna get anything worse than tongued to death, we
looked around for anyone who might be the owner.  But all we found
was Kellie."  Langly indicated the solemn little girl riding on
Byers' shoulders.  She looked to be four or five and had not spoken a
word since they'd arrived in the village.  She had smiled when Byers
had picked her up, though - and when Nanook had licked her face. 
Mulder had discovered from one of the other survivors that Kellie had
screamed in her sleep every night during the trip, and clung to
Byers, for whom she'd taken a strong liking.  And studying the
pinched, little face, Mulder thought he could understand why... for
Kellie's and Byers' coloring was almost identical.  Mulder would bet
anything that Byers probably looked a lot like this child's daddy...
with brown hair and a beard; probably slender as well.  As timid and
introverted as the child seemed, the sight of her actually holding
her little arms out for John Byers told Mulder a lot.

The tour lasted about an hour, with the guys expressing amazement at
the sheer ingenuity of the self-sufficient life Mulder and the other
villagers had carved out for themselves, here in Mt. Vu'luk.  They
stood in the barn and let Kellie pet the goats, while Frohike looked
around and spoke for all of them.  

"All those weeks and weeks on the road, Mulder - we were never sure
of what we'd find when we finally reached you.  We went through parts
of Canada that looked almost normal, and if we hadn't known anyone we
needed urgently to find we could have stayed in several places and
made ourselves believe that life hadn't changed a bit."  Frohike
watched Kellie fuss over a young male kid, before he continued.

"Then, ten miles away from that normal setting, we'd come across the
worst mess of devastation - sort of like what we found that day when
we ran into Kellie.  That's not her real name of course - we have no
idea what it might be since she won't talk - she looked like a
'Kellie' to Byers and that's who she became.  God only knows what she
had to witness; I mean, Death was all over the place."  Frohike
stopped abruptly, unable to force much else out around the clog in
his throat.  Langly took up the narrative.

"We ended up driving this big old Dodge minivan that we'd found
abandoned in Ontario; we'd deserted Frohike's clunker and nabbed it. 
After a week on the road we'd collected Kellie and the mutt, plus a
few others along the way who were either alone or just wanted a ride
north.  Sometimes we ran out of food but unless we were in a place
that didn't look like "Alien Central", we wouldn't stop.  Hick
actually lost some weight."  On cue, Frohike opened up his jacket and
Mulder and Skinner dutifully circled him and exclaimed over his new,
more svelte shape... then ruined the effect a bit by cracking up with
laughter.  Frohike gave them both a foul stare and picked up where
Langly stopped. 

"Yeah, laugh it up... but I am evolving into a definite chick-
magnet.  Now all I have to do is prove it."  The men laughed and
Frohike grinned at them.  "You know, you've got a great bodyguard in
your friend Manly."  He inclined his head toward the wiry Native man,
who went pink-cheeked and ducked his head.  Frohike continued, "When
we landed in Barrow we just figured you'd stayed there.  After awhile
it became apparent you weren't in town so we started asking
questions.  Eventually word got back to Manly some strangers were
looking for Mulder and he came right up to us and challenged us -
then didn't believe us when we told him you were our friends!"  

Manly defended his attitude, still blushing.  "Hey, I didn't know! 
We'd already had to deal with that crazy one-armed Russian dude...
how was I to know you guys were harmless?"  Langly visibly bristled
at being called 'harmless, but Byers and Frohike understood
completely.  Frohike cracked his usual odd joke.  

"Hell, I don't blame you, man!  If I came face to face with me I'd
be cautious, too!"  Mulder laughed and chimed in, slapping Frohike on
the back.

"Hick, if you came face to face with yourself it would either mean
you were looking in a mirror... or there's two of you in the world. 
God help us."

Everyone guffawed, even Frohike, who'd never minded being the ass-
end of somebody's joke, as long as they were friends of his.  He
reached out and clapped Mulder on the shoulder, then became very
serious, as he voiced his strongest concerns.

Listen," Frohike's eyes were earnest as he stared at Mulder and
Skinner, "You have got to know that it's far from over.  We heard a
lot of rumblngs as we moved north.  We had to backtrack at least six
times, to try hiding our route - didn't want to be followed.  Didn't
want to lead them to you and Scully - and am I glad we did what we
did!  Now that we've seen your little boy and girl..."  Frohike's
concern and worry was plain to see as he held Mulder's gaze.  

"Mulder, if they knew you had children they'd want them.  In fact,
I'm not sure they don't already know, somehow; those mutant fuckers
have their ways.  They're hoping the human race is stupid enough to
wipe itself out.  At least I don't think they know about your efforts
to create a vaccine; that was a rumor we heard amongst the surviving
humans we ran into as we drove."  

Mulder nodded soberly.  It was as much as he'd expected - and it
left him cold and worried and more determined than ever to protect
what they'd all worked so hard to achieve.  He turned to his friends.

"We're going to fight them, Guys.  Little by little we're going to
get that vaccine out and we're going to make ourselves an immune
world.  And when we get strong we're going to take control somehow
and kick their scaly asses all the way back to Pluto."  

The guys nodded, understanding and accepting the new fierceness in
Mulder's voice as proof of how he'd changed.  They'd had a few
private minutes with Skinner while Mulder was helping Scully get the
babies settled in for their naps, sitting in the small but comfy
living room.  Skinner had shown up and informed Frohike that the men
who'd traveled with them were at Warren's place and would each have a
cabin assigned to them.  

When asked their housing preferences, the guys had looked confused,
as if no one had ever asked them such a question before.  Langly and
Frohike had shrugged and Byers had finally piped up and had spoken
for all of them.

"Well, these cabins are very cozy - and I think we'd be better off
if we each had our own.  Maybe three, close together?  And I'll no
doubt have Kellie with me... I have more or less adopted her."  
Skinner nodded, figuring there would be motherless and fatherless
children out there, needing somebody.  And as he had glanced at these
men, who'd been so much a part of his life for so long that he barely
remembered any other existence... Skinner knew their village would be
the safer, and the better, for having admitted as citizens the Lone
Gunmen.

He was very glad they were here... very glad.

*****************


All during dinner that evening the most frequently felt emotion
experienced around the little kitchen table - was awe.  That they
could be sitting together sharing a meal, after all they'd been
through and after everything the world's misfortune had heaped upon
them... the simple breaking of bread and consuming of moose stew and
greenhouse vegetables had been appreciated by all present and crowded
inside the Mulder cabin.

Only three people could sit comfortably at the small wooden table,
so rather than fight over it Scully had placed all the food on the
table and everyone sat on the floor with plates in their laps.  Bill
and Tara had come over with the children; they'd been dying to meet
the infamous Gunmen, whom they'd only heard about in the past.  About
an hour into the evening, when the adults had killed two bottles of
cranberry wine and most of the food had been eaten, Mulder glanced
around at the occupants of his little living room... and chuckled,
just loud enough for Skinner to overhear.  The big ex-Marine tore his
rapt attention away from the infant delights of the tiny Hannah who
was curled in the bend of his knee sound asleep, and looked over
inquiringly.

"What?  What's so funny?"  

Mulder pointed across the room, encouraging Skinner to feast his
eyes on the incongruous sight of Bill Scully laughing and yakking in
the midst of two Gunmen - namely the oddest two, Langly and Frohike -
while Tara held an animated conversation with Byers and Matty did his
best to charm Kellie, who was sucking her thumb.  The tableau
presented was so "out there" that Skinner hooted with laughter,
startling Hannah who awoke and made her displeasure known.  Skinner
shifted her to his shoulder and rubbed her back, instantly soothing
the fretful child.  His eyes were filled with mirth as he looked back
at Mulder.

"Now that's a Polaroid moment, Mulder - your brother-in-law making
nice with the Odd Twosome.  What I wouldn't give for a camera!" 
Mulder nodded, unable to hide his grin.

"I'll see if North Slope has any of those instant cameras.  With new
people in town we'll need a trip into Barrow for more supplies." 
Mulder stood up and stretched, then meandered into the bedroom where
Scully was just finishing up nursing Zach; Mary had come in with her
to keep her company.  Mulder perched carefully on the edge of the bed
and curved an arm around Mary's neck from behind.  He nuzzled his
nose in her ear, eliciting a small shriek as he growled to her.

"How about I give you a night you'll never forget, Doll?  You and
me... we'll sneak off to the barn and make some hay."  Mary pushed at
him and he slid off the bed and landed on the floor at her feet.  She
glared at him in mock-severity as he lay there with a silly wine-
induced grin on his handsome face.

"And what do you propose we do with your wife and my husband?  Not
to mention the twins?"  Mulder's reply was predictable but made her
laugh just the same.

"Let them get their own hay."  From the other side of the bed Scully
finished changing Zach and rose with him in her arms, standing
over her husband and shaking her head at his goofy antics.

"Mulder, quit putting the make on Mary and take Zach out to Michael.
He wanted to hold him for awhile before bedtime."  Mulder dutifully
got to his feet and took the sleepy boy, pecking a quick kiss on
first Scully's cheek and then Mary's, before sauntering out to the
living room and announcing to the room in general.

"Hey, Skinner... I just kissed your woman..."

***********  

The babies were baptized after the Sunday services, four days later.
This week's Gathering would double as a christening party and a
welcoming party for the newest residents seeking shelter and a fresh
start in Mt. Vu'luk.  Jon Honea waited near the small altar and
gestured for the participants in the ceremony to step forward. 
Mulder and Scully rose from their seats and each handed a child into
the waiting embrace of their godmothers.  Mary took Hannah into her
arms and smiled up at her husband as the little girl blinked sleepily
at them, while Tara whispered softly to Zach who was busily sucking
on his fingers.

In lieu of christening gowns, Scully had dressed the infants in the
little white sweaters that Beverly had made for them and had wrapped
the matching blankets around their tiny bodies.  The delicate, white
yarn of the babies' christening finery glowed in the soft light of
the chapel.

Jon smiled at the congregation. Everyone in the village, both new
residents and old, had shown up for the christening and the small
chapel was packed, a blessing in itself, he thought.

"Today we gather for a blessed event as Dana and Fox Mulder present
their children to be consecrated to the Lord," he began as he cast a
fond smile at the couple standing before him.  Looking out into the
small crowd, he spoke again.

"By your presence here you are helping to welcome these new lives
into the community of our church and into the ever-growing population
of Mt. Vu'luk."  He grinned and nodded toward the Gunmen and the
small group of travelers who had arrived with them only a few days
earlier.  His broad grin gentled to softer smile and he beckoned
parents, godparents and children to come forward.

Tara and Bill stepped up to the small altar and presented Zach first.

"By what name do you present this child?" Elder Honea intoned
solemnly.  Tara adjusted the white blanket around the baby and looked
up.

"His name is Zachariah," she said softly before turning her face up
to her husband's.  Bill Scully smoothed a gentle hand over the baby's
downy head.

"It means God Has Remembered," he said with a break in his voice and
Jon's smiled widened again.

"Indeed, God has remembered us," he said in a strong voice.  He
motioned the couple closer and Bill slid a big hand behind Zach's
head as Tara held the baby over the small glass bowl that had been
set in the middle of the altar.  Elder Honea laid one hand on the
baby's forehead.

"God will never forget you Zachariah," he said gently.  "And so we
consecrate you unto Him and welcome you into His loving embrace." 
Jon scooped some water into his hand and allowed it to trickle over
the baby's head.  

"I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the
Holy Spirit," the elderly minister said, using the words of the
Catholic ceremony to provide a comforting familiarity to the small
child's mother.

Zach screwed up his face and snuffled unhappily as the cool water
dribbled over his head.  Scully watched, teary-eyed but smiling, as
her first-born child was christened.  Tara lifted the baby onto her
shoulder and rubbed a soothing hand over his back and he continued to
whimper softly as Mary and Skinner took their place at the altar.

"By what name do you present this child?" Jon asked his daughter. 
Mary smiled happily into the sleepy face of the baby girl in her arms.

"Her name is Hannah," she proclaimed in a proud voice.  Skinner
wrapped one arm around his wife's waist and helped her support their
tiny goddaughter as she held Hannah over the glass bowl.

"Hannah means Blessed by God," Skinner said of the tiny creature
with her father's dark hair and her mother's pretty features; his
heart swelled with love for her and her brother and he vowed at that
moment to care for them and protect them for as long as he lived.

Jon stroked a finger over the satiny skin of the baby's cheek. 
"This little girl and her brother are blessed by God and they are
God's gifts to us all.  They are the most precious of gifts to their
parents - living proof of their love and commitment to each other." 
Again, his eyes found the couple wearing twin smiles of pride and
love etched on their faces.  "And they are gifts to the rest of the
world as well, for they are the first of a new generation to be born
free of the scourge that has decimated this planet," he continued. 
"They and the children that will come after them are proof of God's
hand at work through his people, for these children are His blessings
upon us and proof that He has not forgotten His people."

Elder Honea scooped up another handful of water and poured it over
Hannah's silky, dark curls.

"I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Spirit," he said and laid a hand on the damp tufts of hair
covering the head of each baby.  

"Welcome, my children," he said softly.  "Welcome."

*********** 

The celebrants moved from the chapel into the main room and people
crowded around the tables laden with food.  Bottles of homemade wine
were uncorked and the children eyed the sweet table and gauged their
chances of stealing a cookie without being caught.  

The babies were passed from person to person, as everyone was eager
to coo and cuddle the tiny guests of honor.  Hannah, exhausted from
the big morning, slept through most of the party but Zach was wide-
eyed and over-stimulated as he changed hands over and over.  The
little boy had finally relaxed as he rested against his father's
shoulder while they stood in a corner among a group of men.  His eyes
were drooping sleepily and his sturdy body was slumping heavily
against the supporting arm that Mulder had curled under his diapered
rump.  One of the men cracked a joke and Zach was startled out of his
pleasant baby dreams by Skinner's booming laugh.  His little body
jerked in his father's arms and Mulder shifted him to lie in the
crook of his arm.  Zach's rosebud mouth quivered and his face
crumpled as huge tears spilled down his chubby cheeks.

"Shh... shh..." Mulder murmured, pulling the baby against his
shoulder.  "It's okay Zach," he reassured his son.  "Daddy's got
you."  Tears continued to pour down the infant's face.  His mouth
opened and for a moment there was silence as he sucked air into his
lungs before letting loose with a piercing wail.  Mulder paced back
and forth, patting his son's back and whispering soothingly to the
little boy.  Zach buried his face in his father's neck, but nothing
seemed to soothe him.  The men crowded close, awkwardly patting his
back and talking nonsense to the child, trying to calm him and only
serving to frighten him more.  Mulder sighed with relief when the sea
of men parted to allow his petite wife through their ranks.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, eyeing her baby with concern but
careful not to pluck him out of his father's arms.  If Mulder wanted
to handle this on his own, she would let him.  Mulder continued to
rub Zach's back and the baby's loud sobs began to quiet but he could
still feel the little one's tears soaking in his shirt.

"He's okay," Mulder said reassuringly.  "I think he's overtired,
though," he murmured, looking at his wife over their child's head. 
Scully nodded and stroked gentle fingers down the baby's arm.  

"It's been a long day already," she said.  "And he hasn't taken a
nap yet."  Zach's eyes popped open at the sound of his mother's voice
and Mulder could feel the tiny tremors that continued to wrack his
son's body with the force of his tears.  

"He's probably hungry," Mulder suggested.  Scully nodded and held
out her hands.

"Come on Zach," she said as Mulder eased the baby into the cradle of
her arms.  She bent her head low and brushed her lips over his
forehead and his hand automatically reached out to tangle in her hair
as it swept forward.  "Let's get something to eat," she cooed. 
Mulder swept a hand over the baby's silky head.

"You okay buddy?" he asked in a silly voice as he bent low to kiss
the infant's cheek.  Zach blinked at him with huge, wet eyes and he
turned his face toward his mother's breast.  Scully stretched up on
her toes and brushed her mouth over her husband's.

"We'll be fine," she promised.  "Let's go Zach.  You need to eat and
take a nap," she said.  She looked around the hall and chose a quiet
corner where she could nurse the baby.  Scully sank down onto a bench
and rested her back against the wall.  She shifted Zach into one arm
and quickly unbuttoned her blouse with the other hand.  As soon as
her breast was bared, Zach eagerly turned his wet face toward her and
fastened hungrily onto the nipple.  His mouth moved greedily and her
milk let down in a rush, spilling over his cheek and running down his
chin.

"Slow down," she admonished as she wiped his face with a cloth
diaper.  She was humming to him softly and Zach was making tiny,
contented noises as his little hand opened and closed rhythmically
against her breast.  Scully saw a movement out of the corner of her
eye and she raised her head to see what had caught her attention. 
Kellie was standing about four feet away, her fascinated gaze locked
on the nursing baby. 

"Do you want to see the baby?" Scully asked softly and the little
girl lifted startled eyes to hers.  Her body tensed and she looked
ready to bolt so Scully quickly lowered her gaze back to Zachariah
and she worked on keeping her voice steady and quiet.

"He's a very pretty baby," she said enticingly as she played with
one of his hands.  From under her lashes she saw Kellie sidle a
little closer until she was within easy reach of the baby.  Scully
slowly twirled her fingers through Zach's dark red curls and Kellie
watched, seemingly fascinated as he briefly pulled away from the
nipple and blew a milky bubble toward his mother.  The baby gurgled
and then hurriedly latched back onto Scully's breast.

"He's a little piggy," Scully said in a confidential voice, grinning
up at Kellie.  The little girl reached out with tentative fingers to
touch the baby's cheek as it hollowed with his vigorous suckling. 
Her mouth pursed with surprise at the silky feel of his skin and she
touched his hand with her own.  Kellie let out a startled gasp as
Zach's tiny fist closed tightly around her finger and Scully held her
breath when the little girl's mouth opened as if she wanted to say
something.  Several tense seconds passed before she popped her thumb
into her mouth, sucking as energetically on it as Zach was at
Scully's breast.  

Scully masked her disappointment at the child's continued muteness
but was heartened when Kellie inched closer, loosening her other
finger from Zach's grasp and stroking her hand over his head, petting
him.  She glanced shyly up at the red-haired lady with the pretty
smile and pressed damp lips to the baby's cheek.  Smiling gently at
the haunted little girl, Scully prayed that this child would find the
same healing peace and salvation in Mt. Vu'luk as she had.

*************  

Jon Honea was tiring from the long hours of celebration and from his
sermon earlier in the morning, but he was unwilling to give up and
call it a day.  As bad as a child refusing to go to bed, he thought
to himself, as he sat in the only chair with an actual back to it,
and watched his family and his friends enjoying their fellowship. 
Outside the sun cast its customary low glitter over the growing
grasses on the tundra, and starlings twittered in the trees by the
open window.  Michael had been feeding them bits of crumbled bread,
flinging it out of the window and taking turns holding Matty and
Meggie up to the ledge so they could observe the tiny feathered
bodies scarfing up the unexpected manna.  Jon watched his beloved
grandson with moist eyes, thinking what a change had been wrought in
the boy over the long winter months.  He had his son-in-law to thank
for that...

Walter had made such a difference in all their lives, beginning with
Mary and trickling down to him.  His daughter was happy... happier
than he had ever seen her, even when she'd belonged to Calvin.  Jon
supposed a great deal of it stemmed from the difference in Mary
herself.  Although she'd married in her twenties, she had been a
girl.  Up until Calvin had passed away she'd still remained so young;
carefree, yes - but young.  Still somewhat unformed.  Loving Calvin
so much, but with a girl's passion.  

But she loved Walter Skinner with the full-bodied love of a woman -
and that made all the difference.  And her love was returned a
thousand-fold, by the big brawny man who could lift Jon in his arms
as easily as he lifted his goddaughter - and as gently.  Jon Honea
hated to think about getting old, but of course it was happening to
him, as it happened to people his age.  It was difficult for him to
get up out of a chair, or sometimes his bed - and when he needed
assistance his son-in-law was always there to lend a strong arm or
two.  Walter was a very dedicated son, and the perfect husband to his
Mary.

Jon watched his daughter as she approached her husband, calling to
him teasingly as he rocked Hannah in his arms.  She leaned up on her
toes to kiss him and Walter lifted her easily in one arm, hauling her
off her feet and causing her to squeal breathlessly as her feet
dangled and one of her loafers fell off.  Jon smiled at the happy
sound of her laughter - and he wondered how long it would be until
she told Walter, and him and Michael, that she was with child.  

Jon Honea was old, and very wise.  He had sharp eyes - and excellent
hearing.  The bathroom in Mary's and Walter's cabin was close to the
breezeway that connected their homes - and early in the morning these
past few days, Jon had heard his daughter purging herself of morning
nausea.  He figured she'd just begun to suspect - and knew she would
hug it to herself like a new, shiny doll, before letting anyone know,
and share in the joy.  And that was just fine with him... Mary
deserved this - she deserved it all.

The sun had dipped just a little and the children were all napping,
laid out on various blankets and afghans or snuggled in adult laps,
when Mulder stood and raised a glass in a toast to the future.  He'd
been sitting on the floor with Scully curled next to him, arms empty
of babies.  Sarah had been rocking Zach and Bill had demanded a turn
with Hannah, claiming that everyone had a chance to play with her
except him.  Of course by the time he got his hands on her she'd been
so sleepy that she'd promptly dozed off on his shoulder.  He'd sighed
in resignation but had selfishly hung on to her, loving the way her
sleepy little body felt in his arms.  The sight of her big brother
going all mushy on their tiny daughter had made Scully tear up more
than once.

Mulder held up a glass of cranberry wine and his eyes touched every
person in the room as he quietly announced, "Scully and I want to
thank you - every one of you - for all you have done for us, since we
came here.  Your caring and your acceptance has meant the world to
us.  Our blessings have also doubled, now that our dear friends have
made it safely to us -" he indicated the Gunmen, noting with quick
amusement their embarrassment at suddenly becoming the center of
attention.  Mulder tipped his glass at them and continued.

"We don't know what the future holds for us.  We can't predict how
long any of us will survive the colonization going on outside our
relatively safe haven.  We have done - and will continue to do -
everything in our power to keep ourselves safe and immune from the
virus.  And we will send the vaccine out as far as we can, and pray
that we are beginning a chain of immunity that will someday stretch
around the world."  

Mulder turned and nodded to Jon Honea, indicating that he should
speak.  Jon sat up a little straighter in his chair; everyone's
attention was riveted on the much-respected Elder.  Mary sank to the
floor at his feet and Jon smoothed a gnarled hand through her thick
hair, taking comfort from her nearness.

"My friends and family... God has indeed blessed us today, no only
with the consecration of two new lives dedicated to His love, but
with another summer to enjoy.  Another crop to plant; another eighty-
seven days of His wondrous light and warmth.  And yes, it is true -
we don't know what we face.  But we are strong now, stronger than we
have ever been - and all of us are fighters.  We are survivors.  We
are a hopeful people, because we have seen the worst and made it
through.  We are thriving."  Jon's voice dropped low and intense,
vibrating with the force of his feelings.

"Hope - we have hope.  Given to us at our darkest hour, as bright a
hope as that sun outside our windows - making us brand new and shiny.
I think it's appropriate that today, in celebration of our new lives
and our new purpose... that our village should be renamed as a re-
affirmation of our determination to continue on."  With some
difficulty Jon Honea struggled to gain his feet; Skinner immediately
came to his side and wrapped a strong arm around the Elder's frail
body and supported him as he stood with a glass of wine in his hand. 
Jon raised his glass and everyone followed his lead.  His voice
strengthened and grew firm with conviction.

"I propose that we should now be called "New Hope" - and that we
should all strive every day of our lives, regardless of how long or
short a time that might be - to honor the name, and to live our time
accordingly."  

Mulder glanced around at the faces of his family and his friends...
and saw smiles and tears, nods as well - and heard a few 'Amens' here
and there.   And he thought now right and fitting that they should
rename themselves - and come out of their winter corners ready to
fight whatever came their way... 

Delivering themselves from evil.

**************************

Stay tuned for the Epilogue!