SPOILER WARNING: Numerous references to episodes. No season 7
spoilers
RATING: NC-17
CONTENT WARNING: Sexual situations, violence and disturbing
imagery. M/M sex act; chapter will be clearly marked.
CLASSIFICATION: S, A, R; M/S, Sk/O, K/O (m/m)
SUMMARY: As Mulder and Scully deal with the everyday challenges
of marriage and parenthood, a threat to their family moves closer.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Branwell and Ambress are not only giving me the
regular beta workout, but have given me so much input into an
experience I know nothing about; having a baby. Thanks, ladies.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

'Tis not that Dying hurts us so -
'Tis Living - hurts us more -
But Dying - is a different way -
A Kind behind the Door -

The Southern Custom - of the Bird -
That ere the Frosts are due -
Accepts a better Latitude -
We - Are the Birds - that stay.

The Shivers round Farmers' doors -
For whose reluctant Crumb -
We stipulate - till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home.

Emily Dickinson - 335

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

 

Chapter 1: First Date

31 Bridle Path Way, Pinecrest, Virginia; April, 30th, 3:45PM

 

"Mulder, how's everything going?"

Scully was on the cell phone for the fifth time since she'd left
him with the baby to go shopping. Her first solo journey out of
the house since Kit's birth.

Mulder balanced the receiver between his shoulder and ear. "Fine.
Everything's fine."

He glanced down at his son cradled in his arms. The baby cracked
his eyes open but then let his long, dark lashes drop again. To
Mulder, Kit's eyes seemed huge, a swirl of blue and green and
gray, depending on his mood.

Scully's voice snapped him back to the conversation. "Has he been
hungry?" She wasn't satisfied with his assurances.

"I've given him a bottle, yes."

"All right," she said grudgingly. "I'm going to be at least
another hour. The traffic is horrible! But take another
container of my milk out of the freezer. Just to be sure."

He was losing patience. "There's still some left in the bottle.
It'll be fine. I've gotta go. Diaper change time!"

He cut the connection before she could go over that procedure with
him again.

He swung the drowsing baby up onto his shoulder and began
chatting. "You and me, Captain. We menfolk can take care of
business." Kit's response was to latch onto Mulder's neck like
some toothless vampire, the baby's drool pooling in his
collarbone.

There were more immediate concerns. Recoiling slightly at the
odor rising from his son's diaper, Mulder hurried to the changing
table they'd set up the laundry room off the kitchen.

He was just beginning to unfasten the pins at Kit's hips when the
front door bell rang.

Grumbling, he picked the now squirming baby up and went to answer
it.

His heart plunged when he peered through the peephole.

Opening the door, he said, "Mother."

Teena Mulder stood on the porch. Despite her perfect coif and
smooth Chanel overcoat, her white knuckles clutching her purse
strap betrayed her tension.

"Fox." Her gaze immediately settled on the baby.

Mulder had to move aside to let her in. "Please come in. It's
cold. Kit needs his diaper changed," he called over his shoulder
as he hurried back to changing table. Kit had begun the low pig
squeals that signaled his displeasure.

"Fox..." His mother was wavering in the doorway as he began his
task.

Mulder didn't know what to say. He concentrated on wiping Kit's
small buttocks clean.

She slowly entered the room, watching him. "Why didn't you call
me?"

He tossed away the soiled wipe. "How did you know?"

He turned to be able to look into her eyes. She raised her chin
and met his gaze with her usual cool, bland gaze. "A friend
thought I should know I'm a grandmother."

He turned back to his task, his hands trembling slightly as he
pulled a new diaper off the stack. He had his answer.

She peered over his shoulder to watch. "He's not circumcised?"

"Scully doesn't believe it's medically necessary," he muttered.

Archly, his mother commented, "Oh? And has she had him baptized?"

Gritting his teeth, he replied, "No. We're going to let him
decide those things for himself." As he powdered Kit's bottom, he
reminded her, "You let Dad take Samantha and me to be baptized--"

She tossed her head back, dismissing him. "What was I to do to
stop him?"

He could only shake his head as an answer. It was useless to
challenge her.

She didn't seem to notice. "What's his name?"

"Didn't your 'friend' tell you?" he retorted as he finished
fastening the fresh diaper.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her hand reaching out
to touch his child. He shifted his weight so his body blocked her
move. She stepped back towards the doorway.

He knew what her response would be when he told her the name.
"Isaac Patrick."

Sure enough, she tossed up her hands, and shook her head. "Good
Lord! That old rag seller!"

"Yes, Mother. That old rag seller." He'd swung around to face
her; Kit tucked up under his chin. Ignoring the scene, his son
had fallen back to sleep, curling into his odd turtle-out-of-its-
shell shape. "Was there anything else?"

She seemed stunned. "What?"

"Did you want anything? Because I think you should go."

She hadn't taken her overcoat off or put down her purse. She
played at the buttons of her coat now, and let her eyes roam the
room, lighting everywhere but on him. "I--"

He heard a cold, brutal voice cut her off. "Okay. Then I think
you should go."

Her head dipped in a royal nod of acceptance. "I will."

He didn't show her out. Instead, through the living room window,
he watched her car pull out of the drive and slowly move down the
street. He was surprised that there was no silhouette on the
passenger side.

Kit began to fuss. Mulder rocked him, trying to settle him down.
In the kitchen, he made a disturbing discovery. The milk level in
the bottle was much lower than he thought.

The rest of Scully's milk was frozen solid. "Dammit!" Glancing
down at Kit's perplexed face as the baby sucked the last of the
milk down, he apologized. "Sorry, Captain. Maybe--"

He opened the door of the microwave and then hesitated as he
prepared to shove the container of milk into it. No, that would
kill the good thingies in the milk. Scully's lactation lesson
number 64, now only vaguely remembered.

"Now what?" he said out loud and got only some gasps of
frustration from his warm bundle. He began to pace and then
snatched up the phone. It rang before he could dial Scully.

"Mulder? It's me."

"Scully--"

"I'm still on the freeway! Dammit! I'm stuck behind an
accident!" she sputtered down the line at him.

"Are you all right?" he quickly asked, switching Kit to the arm
furthest away from the receiver so his low cries couldn't be
heard.

No such luck. "What's wrong?"

He put all of his powers of conviction in his voice. "Nothing--"

She growled, "Shit!"

Swaying in place to attempt to rock Kit to sleep, with no results,
he asked, "What now?"

Sputtering, she said, "I had a let-down when I heard Kit cry.
Dammit! Now I have milk all over my sweater."

Mulder met Kit's wet, sad eyes with equal despair. So close and
yet so far!

"Just drive safely. We'll be here when you get home, don't
worry."

Again, he cut her off before she could protest. Kit filled in the
protest, beginning to cry in earnest. Futilely, he patted the
baby's back, trying to soothe him. "You miss your Mommy, huh,
Kit? So do I."

As the minutes ticked by, he walked around and around the kitchen,
staring at the frozen milk in its rubber tub, willing it to melt.
A small puddle developed under the block, but it was freezing
cold.

Kit's cries became steady and strong. Widening his circle to
include the living room, Mulder peered out of the blinds to see if
his neighbors had gathered on his muddy front lawn, brought by the
wails of a tortured child, ready to snatch this neglected baby
from his incompetent father.

Upset, Kit began to spit up what little food he did have in his
stomach. Mulder was nearly sobbing himself.

"Oh, Kit! What'd you do that for?" He lay the wailing baby down
the couch and quickly stripped off his stained sweatshirt. When
he brought Kit back up to his chest, the baby began mouthing at
Mulder's damp pectoral muscle.

At first Mulder was horrified and then a plan formed in his
overwrought mind. Well, not that Kit could get any milk, but
maybe it would calm him to suckle...Mulder tried to adjust Kit to
this unfamiliar position. Scully made it look so easy...

"Mulder, what the hell are you doing?" came from behind him,
startling him to the extent he nearly dropped the baby.

"Scully! Thank god!"

"Yes. I should think so," she fussed.

She had stripped off her coat and was pulling off her milk-stained
sweater as she approached him. "Give him to me."

She settled into the armchair and Kit was immediately silent when
he latched onto her nipple. She was shaking her head and
chuckling. "Mulder! I'm concerned that your harebrained ideas
will spill into parenthood."

He plopped down on the sofa next to his crumpled sweater. "I
forgot--"

Fascinated, he watched as she gently stroked the plump white cheek
of his son. Fine dark hair was finally growing in, creating a
tidy cap on Kit's skull. She wasn't listening.

Her face held the dreamy expression he used to be happy to put
there on a regular basis. She was in that place she went when she
was with their baby. A place he would never be able to go.

He noticed his lips were contracting in unison with Kit's greedy
slurping. Did it taste like normal milk or something more--
better? The way his son acted, you'd think Hollandaise sauce,
rich and almost forbidden in creaminess, was coming out of her
nipples. He remembered the soft texture of her aureole, then the
elastic nub of her nipple. How hard would he have to suck to get
milk?

Leaping up from the couch, snatching up their soiled sweaters, he
hurried from the room, telling her, "I'll soak these sweaters."

Her laggard tone followed him, "All right."

 

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Scully sank deeper into the tub of warm water. This house had
been an extravagance, but she found it hard to feel remorse when
she was in this elevated, deep tub built for two. It had been a
long, cold day trying to find some clothes to fit her new and
fuller figure. Sighing, she lowered herself into the water until
only her head was poking out.

Also, she'd gotten her hair cut, at last, to a short, layered
style. Now it would be a tumble of curls if she didn't straighten
it mercilessly. It didn't matter. She still hadn't decided when
she would go back to work, or in what capacity when she did. For
now, she couldn't seem to summon interest in her career. All of
her priorities had changed.

The reason entered the room, carried by Mulder, and she couldn't
help but raise her arms. "The water's cooled enough. I'll bathe
him."

He shook his head, but smiled. "Let me take his diaper off first.
Enjoying your bath?"

She returned his smile. "Yes."

"I was going to shower." Handing the now naked baby to her, he
asked, "Care to join me?"

"No, I've got my man." She gently lowered her son into the warm
water, dunking him up and down.

Mulder looked disappointed, but said with a grin in his voice, "My
waterbabies."

She had drawn her knees up and propped Kit's head up so he could
see her as she made funny faces at him. "Yep! Wanna go for a
boat ride, Captain?"

Kit only gurgled in reply, then screwed up his face in his now
familiar, me-hungry, expression.

Quickly, she brought him to her breast and dribbled water on his
fat belly as he fed. She glanced up at Mulder. Like a large toad
on his stool, he was perched on the toilet; his long legs pulled
up, watching them with a strange look on his face.

"What?" she asked in a low voice, the room suddenly seeming very
warm.

Jumping up from the toilet, he tossed over his shoulder, "I'll
shower downstairs. Don't want to disturb you."

She shot a questioning look down at Kit, who ignored her in his
greed. Reviewing the past few moments, she thought she could
figure out the source of Mulder's discomfort. She was pretty damn
sure she'd seen a huge erection tenting his baggy sweatpants as he
rushed out of the room.

The now familiar lethargy that came with breast-feeding overcame
her and she settled her head back on the edge of the tub. Sex.
What was that? So far, things hadn't been going well at all in
that department.

She'd torn somewhat in the frantic birth and, for once, she'd been
slow to heal. Despite the doctor's okay, their first attempts had
to be aborted. Now she was sure she was physically fine, it was
just a matter of finding time and energy. They'd gotten pretty
far the other night, hands and lips traveling down all the old
roads, before Kit's cry had taken her away. By the time she'd
gotten back, Mulder had been sound asleep.

Hardly flattering, but she didn't blame him. He'd started back to
work, although only on deskwork. Still, he gamely would get up to
retrieve Kit for her every two hours in the night, settling back
to his side of the bed with the baby nestled between them like a
bundling board.

Kit was finished eating. Bringing him up to her shoulder, she
whispered in his ear, "Maybe tonight, Captain. Do I feel lucky?"

By the time she'd dried and powdered him, rocked him to sleep, and
had done her few nighttime rituals, Mulder was in bed with the
light out. Slipping under the covers, she wiggled up behind him,
letting her hand creep over his hip, under his pajama waistband,
along his groin to encounter...a flaccid penis.

"Where'd my friend go?" she asked, slightly taken aback.

Half asleep, Mulder mumbled, "Oh. Uh...I took care of that myself.
I didn't--"

Fury and frustration on three hours of sleep brought quick tears
to her eyes. "Fine." She flipped over faster than a McDonald's
hamburger, and pulled the coverlet up tight under her chin.

His remorseful tone followed her. "Scully? I could...what do you
want?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Go to sleep."

Now that she was royally pissed off at him, Mulder figured he
might as well tell her what had happened. "My mother came by
today."

"What!?" She flipped back over and her could see the whites of
her eyes gleaming bright panic in the dark room.

"Yes. I think that old smoking bastard told her about Kit," he
said.

"You hadn't called her?" Scully was stroking his arm now, her
anger apparently forgotten.

"No. I couldn't think of what to say," he muttered.

Her voice was low and strained. "Do you think we should be
worried?"

"I'm assuming he's just mind-fucking with us. He can't let go of
his 'family'. I'm sure that's all." He hoped he sounded
confident.

She pulled his arms around her and burrowed her head under his
chin. "Okay. I hope so."

Her body felt strong and lithe under his touch, the slight tension
still in her muscles. He squeezed the long muscles running down
her stiff back. "I know so."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

FBI Building
May 4th; 5:05PM

 

Mulder checked his calendar again for the twentieth time that
afternoon. Yep, he didn't have it wrong, 7:30 PM, tonight.

Scully had dropped by the office with a bawling Kit after a
doctor's appointment.

Tiff had seemed to pretend not to notice and then had to stifle a
chuckle when Scully had passed off the squirming, whining baby to
him, with, "Take him. He's cranky and so am I."

Scully herself had written the numbers in red as she leaned across
his desk, her torso pressing his stilled hands down on his
paperwork. It had been just before she'd left, after Kit had spit
up on his tie, after she had breast-feed the baby in front of a
horrified Skinner and a continually bemused Tiff and after she had
thrown a stinky diaper in his waste basket. As she'd written the
time, she'd whispered in his ear, "Our first date."

He knew what she meant. It was time to resume marital relations.
Or to put it more concisely, to start marital relations properly,
with Scully's belly flat and firm again.

No more of this 'fooling around' they'd been doing; the term he
and the other boys used in high school when they didn't want to
admit they weren't actually having sex with their girlfriends,
only petting.

He laughed suddenly and Tiff shot him a worried look. Scully and
he were finally going to have sex. How long had it been? He
broke out in a sweat. Should he stop and get some wine? He should
have sent flowers. He dialed the florist frantically. Too late.
He would have to pick up a dozen roses on the way home from work.
It was their first date after all.

He could see Tiff watching him out of the corner of his eye. She
just kept shaking her head. Fuck her. He was a man with a few
things on his mind.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*

He was at his own front door with his arms loaded down with
champagne bottles and flowers and had to stop himself from ringing
the bell. He wasn't arriving for a real date, for Christ's sake!

He was greeted by Kit's siren-like wail as he entered the foyer.
Scully was walking the baby around the living room, trying to calm
him.

Mulder stopped in the entryway and watched her. Well, she had
been beautifully coordinated at some point this evening, he was
sure. She was wearing a long, tight velvet dress, a dark deep
red, the color of desire. It was cut low in the back to show off
her gorgeous string of pearls spine. He couldn't see the bodice,
she had a squirming red-faced baby pressed to it right now, but he
was sure it was cut low too. She was barefoot, but he saw the
high Fuck-Me shoes tossed aside.

Scully suddenly realized Mulder was watching her and she jumped
with a start. Having a baby had dulled her instincts and she
didn't like that. She couldn't stop her voice from being snippy.
"You're finally home."

He looked stunned and then said, "Yeah, I'm sorry--" He glanced
down at his offerings.

She just couldn't stop herself. "I already have wine and
flowers."

"I'm sorry," he repeated as he tossed his things onto the console
table and came into the room.

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry too. Could you take him for
just one minute so I can check on the dinner?"

"I'd be happy to take him," Mulder said stiffly.

She bit back a bitter comment about the diaper-changing scoreboard
of late and handed him Kit before fleeing to the kitchen and the
smell of burning lasagna.

As she threw the casserole dish up on the counter, she noticed Kit
had spit up on her dress. That was pretty. It wouldn't come out
of velvet; that was for sure. She wiped off as much as she could
and sighed. This wasn't going the way she planned at all.

Mulder joined her in the kitchen. "We could order take-out," he
suggested.

She was still in the snippy mood. "I guess. Where's Kit?"

"I put him down." Mulder reached for her like a hungry baby
himself.

"He'll be crying again in a second, I tell you," she warned as she
moved away. She saw the hurt expression in his eyes.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to try to get in the
mood. "Why don't you order some food? I'll go check on him."

Mulder called after her as she hurried from the room, "I told you.
He's fine. You're just going to get him stirred up."

He didn't understand. She had heard other women say that about
their husbands but she'd thought a man as sensitive as Mulder...

He didn't understand that she knew if her child needed her. He
would never have this connection.

Kit was lying in his crib, gulping back quiet sobs. She quickly
picked him up and moved to her rocking chair. They rocked for a
few minutes and she started feeding him. Before he could finish
eating, he finally went to sleep. With a slight, pained grimace,
she rearranged her breasts in the bodice of her dress.

She found Mulder in the living room, with the TV on, flipping
through the channels. Great. Now she had to seduce him out of a
pout. She came up behind him and ran her fingers through his
hair, massaging his scalp, and he purred like a jaguar. Well,
that was easy.

"Where did I leave those shoes?" she said, putting some sexiness
in her tone.

He chuckled. "Oh, yes. Please."

She wedged her feet into the shoes with pain. They fit a year
ago. She had to admit it was no longer swelling and realize her
feet were now larger. She almost sobbed out loud at the idea she
was going to have to replace all of her beloved shoes.

She must put on a brave face for Mulder. She pivoted and
sauntered towards him. He seemed to appreciate the show. He
reached up and drew her down onto the couch. Immediately, his
tongue went into her mouth and his long fingers slipped down the
cleavage of her dress. Finesse appeared to be gone, replaced by
over-due need.

She gave out a gasp of pain as he gripped her breast. They were
still too sensitive. She reached up and tugged at his wrist.

He looked at her with drugged eyes and then saw what was wrong.
"Sorry," he mumbled as he pushed the strap of her dress down to
reveal the offended breast, the blue veins pulsing under the white
tissue. He dipped his head to gently lick away the soreness.

That was better. She moaned in encouragement and let her eyes
drift shut, cradling his head as he began to suckle. He gave out
a 'glug' and pulled away in surprise.

"What?" she asked.

He looked embarrassed and his lips were pursed as though he needed
to spit but didn't know where.

"What's wrong?" she asked again, and then realized what had
happened.

She started to laugh, but he said, "Uh, nothing," as he quickly
gulped down the mouthful of her milk.

If he wasn't going to keep his sense of humor, this wasn't going
to work, she thought with fury. Wait until he found a few other
surprises she had hidden under these clothes, including scar
tissue and stretch marks.

Just then, the doorbell rang with the food delivery and Kit
resumed wailing. They both jumped up from the couch to go to their
duties.

The three of them sat around the table, the adults disgruntled.
Scully hadn't bothered to light the candles. They shoveled their
dinners into their mouths as Kit fussed and whined in her ear,
draped over her shoulder.

Mulder kept shooting her looks as though he wanted to say
something. She dared him, she just dared him. The tension became
thicker than the congealed, fatty sauce on her pasta.

He waited until she had a stomach full of food to clench down on.
"You know, I think you're clinging to him too much."

Taking a deep breath, she shot back, "Is that your opinion as a
psychologist?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, obviously at war with his
better judgement. It failed, as usual. "No, my opinion as a
psychologist is that you're trying to compensate for your
perceived ambivalent feelings during pregnancy and your fear of
losing him now--" he stopped himself.

She dared him out loud. "And?"

He looked her right in the eye. "And I think you use him as a
buffer against intimacy because you're still not comfortable with
the fact that you somehow ended up married to me without all your
usual careful planning."

 

The end, Dark Seed III, Chapter 1

Chapter 2