The Dream Series


Title: Suspicion
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. 

Summary: Something's up with Scully.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, 
sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder.

She'd been acting quiet all day. Now, it's not like my wife is the most open 
person, but still, I could tell she was ignoring me.

At first I though maybe she was sick, ya know? I couldn't figure out why she 
spent more time in the bathroom than in the office- It's not like the FBI 
restrooms are that appealing. Then she said she had "somewhere to be" 
halfway through the day and then she just left. Short of having someoen 
follow her, there was nothing I could do to solve the mystery that is 
Scully. I just hoped she would come to me eventually and let me help her.

She still wasn't back by 5 and since she had made me promise to work only as 
much as necessary (practically part of the wedding vows), I figured she 
would've gone straight home. So I left right at 5. She would've been so 
proud of me- had she been with me.

Now, I know I've done the same thing to her many times in the past but I had 
thought we had overcome that. I mean, isn't that a long time to hold a 
grudge? I know I can't erase the past (Oh, how I wish I could), but... this 
isn't my Scully.

So I arrived home and the apartment was dark. First reaction: reach for the 
gun. It's not like I ever use the thing anymore, Scully makes sure we don't 
go running off on adventures that aren't really there, but it's a habit. 
Luckily I didn't have to panic very long- once my eyes were adjusted to the 
low light I discovered the love of my life lying on the couch, her eyes 
closed.

Walking over, her eyelids began to flutter and she had a sickly, worried 
look on her face. When I asked her what was wrong it looked as if she had to 
think about it for a while. But then I guess she remembered because her eyes 
closed in frustration.

Finally she spoke and what she told me ripped my heart apart. "I'm 
pregnant." Those two words changed my life. At first I was thrilled: a baby! 
A baby of my own to love and cherish and take care of. But then I 
remembered: how could this be? And how would we cope? And what would become 
of us or the baby? Our past was coming back to haunt me, giving me a major 
migraine. But then I saw the hopeful look on my wife's face and all the 
worries just fell out of my mind. She's pregnant. A miracle has happened and 
we are soon going to be blessed with a child. I gave her a hug and kiss, and 
I guess that was what she needed because she grew limp with relief.

So that's where we stayed for the rest of the night, on the couch just 
holding each other. For the moment it was just the three of us and I think 
that was one of the most happiest moments of my life.

So little baby, this journal is for you. Today I found out you were coming 
into my life and although my mind was full of dread and doubt, the good that 
was *you* overcame that all. Besides your mother (!) and I will love you and 
take care of you and that's all that matters. Only 7 months until we see 
you. I can hardly wait.

Love,

Dad

Author's notes: I keep falling back to Mulder and Scully, ignoring the baby. 
But I keep remembering all the important parts of pregancy and I feel the 
need to record it all. I really someone out there still enjoys this!! Please 
let me know if you do! Comments and suggestions are, as always, welcome and 
invited. 

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Title: Serenity
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish. Nothing graphic.
Classifications: V, MSR, S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now.
Summary: Mulder arrives home and admires Scully.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit that Scully can't have 
kids. I think the rest of this is pretty clear. E-mail me *any* comments. Be 
warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is merely Mulder's thoughts and there is not one word 
exchanged between the two characters.

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I unlock the door and enter the apartment. *She should be here* I think to 
myself and instinctively my hand flies to the holster hiding at my back, 
where, with one quick motion I could take the life of any intruder. *No, 
think rationally* I remind myself and try to relax. Flinging my black jacket 
onto the coat rack, I do a quick inventory. Nothing's been taken or turned 
over, I notice, so I make my way into the bedroom.

I notice the bathroom door halfway open and the flickering flames casting 
shadows off the walls. I push the door open slightly and the sight I am 
greeted with takes my breath away.

The bathtub is filled to the brim with warm water and, looking closer, I see 
the tendrils of steam rising. Several candles are lit, releaing the scents 
of assorted flowers. Relaxed in the bathtub is the woman of my dreams with a 
look of pure serenity gracing her face.. My nose catches the scent of herbs 
and I realize she is using one of those packets I gave her for Christmas. 
There are no bubbles, only a greenish tint to the water, and I delight in 
the fact that she enjoys my present.

She stirs at the cold rush of air I brought in and I close the door 
slightly. I refocus on the lady in the tub, who barely has room enough to 
stretch her legs. Her dainty toes are forced out of the water, the pink 
nailpolish complementing the blush of her skin.

Moving slowly upward, I notice the way her knees slightly poke out of the 
water like two plateaus, marring the simplicity of a flat desert. My 
attention is then turned to two other hills, covered with a washcloth in 
order to avoid the cool air that steadily blows on her from the vent above. 
She lets out a satisfied sigh and I realize that she is sleeping. Her head 
leans against the porcelain and her crimson hair is pulled up, although the 
ends are slightly damp. The washcloth covers her eyes and her lips are 
upturned in a small smile. My gaze makes it way back down and I smile at the 
freckles that dot her creamy-white skin. The battle scars that are scattered 
over her are testimony to her unconditional faith in me and my quest but 
they have started to fade and are nothing but distant memories. My gaze goes 
lower until it stops at her rounded abdomen. This brings a full smile to my 
face as I remember the day we found out she was pregnant. I crouch down to 
my knees and simple stare at this beautiful sight- the joy at knowing that 
in *there* my child (Ok, I'm hoping for a girl but I'll love either) grows 
more and more each day.

After several moments of watching her breathing I see the skin that protects 
our child twitch. At the same time, my angel with the flame-red hair and the 
clear blue eyes awakens and one hand reaches up to pull off the washcloth 
while the other reaches down to caress her abdomen. With eyes still 
adjusting to the light, she turns to look at me (how she sensed my presence, 
I have no idea) and grabs my arm, pulling it into the now-cooling water. 

She places it just under her belly button and then she smiles. After just a 
little bit I feel something so faint, like a butterfly beating its wings, 
underneathing my hand and then I realize what it is- my child kicking, 
making sure we know he is there.

Eventually my legs begin to ache, reminding me that I'm not the young man I 
used to be. I lean my bride back against the tiles and, after dipping it 
into the water, replace the washcloth over her eyes. Placing a kiss on her 
forehead, I make my way out of the bathroom and leave her to take care of 
our child- our miracle.

Author's Notes: I'd like to thank... myself, for writing this story. Myself, 
for editing. And.... just kidding. Um, I'd like to thank the creator of 
Green Tub Tea. I used it last night and it inspired this story. I highly 
recommend it. 

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Title: Miracle
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened.

Summary: Mulder writes a journal entry after a doctor's appointment.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names. I can't 
see them (Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox and Dana.

I never liked doctor's offices. Ever since I was young I had been frightened 
by the absence of color in everything. It felt cold and sterile, not 
appealing to me at any age. And a lollipop was no consolation to the terror 
I felt, let me tell you. You'd think I wouldn't mind anymore, seeing as how 
often I visit the hospital over. Nope. Wrong. I still hate it and if I could 
find some way to never go again, I'd be thrilled to pieces.

Except today my beautiful wife had an appointment at the doctor's. The 
OB/GYN, as she put it. Ugh. And my job, as the dutiful father-to-be, is to 
accompany the mother and protector of my soon-to-arrive child to these 
lovely appointments. Great.

I don't understand how she can't be even slightly shaken up by what she had 
to go through. A doctor (a lady, thank goodness), looks... down there. I 
mean, it's one of my favorite places and at home I often reiterate how much 
I love her... there. But when a complete stranger is doing that, no thank 
you. Call me a cab, I'm outta here.

Either way, after waiting quite a while, we entered a room. My beautiful 
bride was to lie down on this... I don't know what it's called. It was 
steel, but padded, with stirrup-like things where she was supposed to put 
her legs. Lovely. I turn around and pretend to be fascinated by the 
information on the wall while she got herself situation, then made my way to 
her head and refused to look below the neck.

The doctor came in, very nice person, and checked her out. Now, I have not a 
clue what she did because I refused to look. I just stared at Scully's 
beautiful blue eyes and nodded to everything the doctor said. Because, 
frankly, I felt it was none of my business to be peeking down there (even 
though, technically, I could). Too embarassing for me.

Then the doctor put some gunk on Scully's belly and waved a little *thing* 
around. When she stopped I could hear something. When I asked what it was, 
you know what she said? It was my baby's heartbeat! My baby has a heartbeat! 
Of course, logically I knew my child had to have a heartbeat but I think 
until today I hadn't really accepted (or believed, take your pick) the idea 
that we're having a baby. But it's true: inside my wife's belly grows a 
little child that has a heartbeat and which soon will be ours.

But that wasn't all. The doctor did an ultrasound. And on this screen, in 
black and white, I could see this *thing*. Very descriptive, I know. But 
there was no other way to put it. At first I had not a clue what we were 
looking at but then we were pointed out body parts. And I realized that what 
I was looking at was our child. Ok, it's a little fetus, barely 
recognizable, but still. We weren't going to find out the gender but it 
didn't matter because the little darling had it's rear end facing us. Our 
baby was mooning us!

Well, anyway, after the visit was over we got a print of the ultrasound, as 
well as the tape, kinda like a souvenir. So here I am, just staring at this 
picture of our baby, our little miracle as Scully puts it. And I have to 
agree. This infant is our little miracle and we will love him (or her) so 
dearly. I can't wait til he or she is here so I can hold him (or her) in my 
arms and love him (or her).

So, this is why I'm keeping this journal. So that when our little baby, our 
little miracle, has come into this world, he or she can read this and 
understand exactly what I felt like. And right now I'm feeling, blessed. 
Yes, I think that's the right word. I feel blessed that I am lucky enough to 
have a gorgeous wife and a child on the way. I hope you understand, little 
baby. I love you so much already. So very much.

Love,

Dad

Author's notes: Um, just want to say thanks for all the e-mails and keep 
them coming, one can never get too much praise! Always, any qustions, 
comments or suggestions are always appreciated. 

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Title: Burdens
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. 

Summary: There are some problems still. Someone feels like a burden (gee, I 
wonder who it could be).

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, 
sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder.

Burdens

I can be such an idiot sometimes. Now, that's not something I usually I 
think on a regular basis but it's something I have just realized and finally 
come to terms with. I am an idiot.

So, we're (by we I mean my beautiful wife and I) nearing the middle of the 
second trimester of pregnancy and, thank the heavens, the love of my life is 
finally able to keep down food. Morning sickness is a thing of the past and 
I couldn't be happier. All I could think was how wonderful everything would 
be from this point until the end of the pregnancy. But then I (the idiot) 
did something I could kick myself for.

We were getting ready for work in the morning. Not a big deal. But then I 
happened to mention that I thought I saw Dana's stomach getting a bit 
rounder than usual. Thinking nothing of it, I carried on with my life. I 
mean, it's not that big of a deal, if you think about it. Expanding in the 
waistline is a natural part of pregnancy and does two things: It says that 
the baby is healthy while at the same time announcing to the world that 
there is a baby inside.

So my wife comes in, *skips breakfast*, and makes her way tidying up the 
apartment (nevermind that it is so clean one could eat off the floor). Ah 
ha. I notice: it looks like she's trying to suck in her stomach to appear 
thinner. "Don't try to hide it," I say, my second mistake of the day. She 
gets red in the face, then marches off to wait in the car, while I hurry 
after her with the keys in hand, trying to figure out what I did wrong.

All day long I kept an eye on her and people's reaction to her. I do that 
anyway but this time I paid close attention. And, as usually, people stayed 
away from her. 'Ice Queen' was her nickname and, by golly, she seemed very 
proud of it. You would think so, the way her eyes glared at anyone who 
looked a second too long. I'd never seen her so... defensive before.

Lunchtime: She appeared to have forgotten about it so I suggested she eat 
something, "for the baby". Pow! The third mistake of the day. She glared at 
me and made her way out of our office, slamming the door quite loudly too. 
Of course I had to follow her (what kind of a husband would I be if I 
didn't?) and I found her at our park bench. Her face was burried in her 
hands and the way she was hunched over made her look so little and helpless. 
Sliding my arms around her in a semi-hug, I tried to figure out what was 
wrong.

Let's see: 1. Told her she was getting pudgy. 2. Insinuated she was hiding 
her stomach. 3. Asked her to eat. All three were in reference to the baby. 
Could she not want the baby? Is it possible that she never wanted this 
child, afraid of what it could change, of would could happen to it. So I 
asked her and the horrified expression she gave me scratched that idea out 
completely.

Ok, she wants the baby. She just doesn't want to eat for the baby. Why? 
It'll make her fat. Why doesn't she want to get fat? Oh... everyone will 
know. I finally get it- what a shock the office will be in when the 'Ice 
Queen' shows up pregnant. There goes the reputation she had to build. And of 
course there's the touching. My wife prefers the "keep your hands to 
yourself" rule and with pregnancy comes people wanting to touch the stomach. 
Ugh. What a pain. And then there was Skinner. He didn't know and I can bet 
that when he finds out he will certainly keep us on desk duty (not that I 
mind) until after the child is born. That will make the love of my life feel 
like a burden, the one thing she hates. Problem discovered. Now how to fix 
everything?

"Sweetie, it'll be okay. We can keep the whole thing a secret as long as you 
want. We've been doing a good job of it so far. Eventually we'll have to 
tell because most people will have figured it out but you can decide when 
and who to tell. And it won't matter what people think- you never minded 
before so why start now? If they so much as look at you funny I'll set them 
straight. And, we'll just have to hang a sign around you neck- no touching. 
Okay?" Turning on my charm, I peeked a glance at the woman next to me, 
waiting for her reaction.

Hallelujah! I'm getting good at this supporting husband role. The smile I 
received truly made my day. Her eyes, glistening from tears not yet fallen, 
radiated such love and her expression was pure happiness.

"We should tell him today."

Wait, what? Say that again? Am I hearing things? I stared at my wife and 
when she repeated the words I nearly fell over. "But I thought..." I think 
I'm getting a headache. Two minutes ago I had figured out what was going on 
in her mind and now... I'm confused again. But she looked so sure of her 
decision that, without wasting another minute, she dragged me (still 
confused) up to Skinner's office, and announced her pregnancy, quite proudly 
I might add.

Nothing remarkable happened. No confetti, band, etc. We were congratulated, 
asked when maternity leave were to take place and then assigned to desk 
duty. Oh well.

There's just one more thing. On the way back to our office I could've sworn 
it looked like my wife was sticking out her ever-expanding abdomen, holding 
a hand over it quite protectively. Announcing to the world (or at least a 
portion of it) that we are expecting a child and are proud of it. Gee, you 
think you know a person...

Author's note: Hello? Anyone out there? *taps microphone* Is this thing on? 
If you like it and you know it, e-mail me. If you hate it and you want to 
show it, e-mail me. Just e-mail me, k? 

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Title: Misery
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could
not have children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some
miracle between then and now. 

Summary: Hmmm... like the title says, Mulder and Scully are
miserable.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit that Scully
can't have kids. I think the rest of this is pretty clear. E-mail me
*any* comments, please! Be warned: if you are one of those who
complained I explained too much detail, run away! This is all
Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very little. By the
way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names. I can't see them
(Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox and Dana.


It was so obvious. Even though she tried to hide it. I always knew
when she was in pain and needed help; no matter how many times she
tried to tell me "I'm fine" I would never believe it. And while it
made her all the more attractive (A woman who can defend herself!) it
also hurt me that she could never just admit when she was having a
problem. And right now she was having a problem- she was miserable.

It wasn't the pregnancy, per se. We both were in love with the fact
that in one month and counting we would have a child to call our own.
And she had finally gotten over the morning sickness and had
progressed to all sorts of unusual cravings. Out of nowhere she would
declare she wanted something like chocolate-covered bananas or a big
package of gummi bears (after eating one she threw the rest away).
And of course the pickles and ice cream (which I still don't
understand) was a popular choice. But that wasn't her problem.

Her problem: she was nearing the last month of her pregnancy. She was
getting... fat. Not obese fat, just "I've got a *big* baby inside me"
fat. More like chubby. And she hated it. She would turn around and
knock something to the floor. And of course she couldn't even see her
feet so there was no way for her to even attempt picking it up. I
have eyes in the back of my head- I could see her try to kick it
under something, as if I wouldn't notice. And of course, there was
the heat- being pregnant in July, when D.C. is having a heat wave, is
not fun. The only way I could make her happy after a day of stress
was to fill the tub with cold water and serve her pickles and ice
cream.

But she didn't want to admit that she was losing control. She refused
to go on maternity leave, preferring to hide her weakness and remain
on desk duty. No matter how many times I tried to bring up the issue,
she would side step it and completely change the subject. I couldn't
blame her, she probably couldn't help herself. She had always enjoyed
being right at my side, taking whatever life dished out, and then
suddenly she couldn't. She would get tired easily and, of course,
being out in the field was out of the question so we were stuck with
desk duty. Even though we weren't doing anything exciting or even
remotely *interesting*, she refused to surrender. And the fact that
she felt she had to pretend made me miserable.

I knew things were out of control when Skinner asked me to come speak
to him, alone. He told me, basically, that it was about time Scully
took her maternity leave and if I was such a good husband I would
allow her to do so. As if I were to blame! Effective immediately she
was off work for the next couple of months and I was the one to break
the news to her. Great.

So what did I do? After a heap o' protests from my red-headed beauty,
I managed to persuade her to get off work for the rest of the
day, "just because I wasn't feeling well". That got us home. Then I
set about lighting candles, filling the tub and getting together the
pickles and ice cream to relax her. It worked like a charm for
awhile, until she figured what I was up to.

She questioned me about my motives and, what can I say? I'm getting
soft in my old age. I broke down and told her the truth- that she was
being placed on maternity leave against her wishes. Way to be subtle,
Mulder. She practically freaked out and would have stormed out of our
apartment had she not needed my help getting out of the tub.

Now my beautiful bride has several weak spots which, luckily, I
happen to privy to. And one of them is a massage. Not a quick one,
mind you, but a long and relaxing massage. So, whipping out the
bottle of baby oil, I got down to work, making her skin smooth and
her mind numb.

When I could tell she was weakening, I tried again. "I really think
it won't hurt if you stay here for a while. It might be better for
the baby." Well, that didn't work. She still had some control over
her mind and she answered that question in the negative. So I tried
another tactic: "If you stay home, then I'll leave work earlier and
at the very end I'll even stay home with you."

There was silence. And then, in a tiny voice she asked, "Would you
bring me ice cream?"

"All the flavors in the world," I replied. Because how could I really
refuse her? I mean, with her blue eyes shining so brightly and her
arms wrapped around her ever-expanding belly. This woman was (in a
way) sacrificing her body in order to give us the child we've always
wanted. To give *me* the child I always dreamed of.

So we made a truce and now, after placing a call into Skinner, we
have decided that she will not return for work until she's good and
ready (although that might be a bit too soon, but we'll see) and I am
leaving work at three in the afternoon every day to take care of my
wife. Such small sacrifices to make in order to get the misery out of
our lives, wouldn't you say?

Author's notes: I just would like to say thanks to all of you who
have written in response to this series. I love writing this and I'm
glad to know that there are those who love reading them. Any comments
and suggestions are still always appreciated, though! Oh, one quick thing: 
does anyone know how to fix it so that it is posted in lines, and not 
jagged? does that make sense? 


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Title: Bliss
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could
not have children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some
miracle between then and now. This is kind of a continuation of
Serenity, although it is quite obvious what happened.
Summary: Mulder takes care of his wife.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit that Scully
can't have kids. I think the rest of this is pretty clear. E-mail me
*any* comments, please! Be warned: if you are one of those who
complained I explained too much detail, run away! This is all
Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very little. By the
way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names. I can't see them
(Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox and Dana.


She had disappeared. Not disappeared as in abduction or anything like
that (I don't think) but all I knew is that I had been staring at the
stupid computer trying to pull up a case file (Scully did some
rearranging) and then I looked up and she was gone. But, hey, I'm an
FBI agent- I can track her down.

Clues. Her purse was not on the chair next to the file cabinets and
was, therefore, with her. Her chair (the one I got her recently, it
revolves!) was still spinning ever so slightly. And the door appeared
to be flung open, as if she left in a hurry. Ah ha! There's only one
place she could be. Opening the drawer, I grabbed a packet of
crackers and made my way to my wife.

I opened the door cautiously and found what I suspected: my beautiful
bride leaning over the sink with a pale look on her face, brushing
her teeth. That could only mean one thing. "Morning sickness?" I
asked, just to be sure. Those two words caused her to stop fixing
herself up and, giving me a look of pure disgust, run to the nearest
stall where I could hear her disposing of the remains of her
breakfast. I sighed and, as she returned to my side, handed her a
cracker. She swung herself delicately onto the counter and leaned
against the mirror. Perfect, it was my turn to take care of her.

Grabbing a paper towel, I moistened it, using it to mope off the
sweat that had appeared around her face. I dug through my pockets and
came up with a mint, which she accepted gratefully. I whipped out a
comb and started brushing her gorgeous flame-red hair, which she has
let grow out. I gave her a quick hug and a kiss and stepped back to
take a look at her.

Not good. She still looked exhausted and had a faint greenish glow.
*She should not have to work so hard. She deserves to be in the warm
depths of our bed with me waiting on her every wish.* I placed a
quick call to our boss and said that we're sick and on our way home.
(Ok, I left a message, I'm still scared of him.)

I pulled the love of my life off the bathroom counter and supported
her back into the office, where I gathered our stuff and made our
escape as quickly as possible. After all, you never know when someone
might need us.

So now here I am, lying in bed, my arms wrapped around the woman of
my dreams, who sleeps and dreams. She's been suffering from morning
sickness for practically her entire pregnancy- about three months-
and I ache for her. I wish I could take away her burden, especially
the pain we know she will experience during labor. But I am her
support, her strength, and I accept it. After all, what better way to
spend a Monday afternoon than relaxing in bed with a gorgeous woman.
This is bliss.

Author's notes: Sorry, this is kind of out of order. I want to go
back and fill in the blanks. Except, I'm not willing to explain how
they got married and how Scully got pregnant. If you are enjoying
this, even a teeny bit, please let me know. 


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Waiting
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although it is 
quite obvious what happened. This is the 12th one I've written; if you 
would like the other parts just let me know. If you are missing a piece, let 
me know and I'd be happy to get it to you.
Summary: Mulder and Scully are forced to wait.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Author's notes at the end.

This is dedicated to Katie, my best friend since I can hardly remember, who 
recently died of cancer. May you find peace among the stars and joy among 
the angels. I love you.


Waiting

"You're waiting for someone to put you together.
You're waiting for someone to push you away.
There's always another wound to discover.
There's always something more you wish he'd say."
--Vertical Horizon, "Everything You Want""

Waiting. That's all there is left to do. I'm not a very patient person by 
nature so this feels like torture. A bittersweet torture, since after this 
endless period of waiting we will be blessed with something (or rather, 
someone) wonderful. A child to call our own. Unfortunatly that requires... 
waiting. I can't handle this.

Neither can the lovely wife, whose head rests in my lap. I can't help but 
feel pangs of pity when I see the way she clutches her belly (which now 
appears to be stuffed with water-balloons, ready to pop), the way she 
struggles every time she attempts changing positions, the way she knocks 
things to the floor by simply turning around. She is also a very impatient 
person and with the doctor having told her to "go home and wait", she tries 
to hide the anger she feels at being helpless. I wish I could do something 
to help her but as of now I'm merely an outsider looking in, a stranger in 
the form of her husband, waiting for the child inside to just give up and 
come out.

*Click. Click. Click-click-click.* She flips through the channels, frowning 
in distaste at the lack of interesting programs at this time of day. What 
can I say, it's not quite noon and the daily soap operas aren't as exciting 
as our life, at least, the way it used to be. Throwing the remote against 
the cushion, my wife finds a magazine and starts flicking through that. 
She's read that one a thousand times, at least, and when she realizes that 
she throws that aside also.

Bed rest. She's on recommended (although, with the way her OB looked, it 
appeared more like required) bed rest for the amount of time this child 
wishes to hide away. When that might be is the question, considering that 
the due date has come and gone at least a week ago. Time just blurs together 
with the endless television shows, magazines, and rustled-up dinners. We are 
too exhausted to do anything (the summer heat controls us) and I worry what 
we will be like once the baby arrives.

The baby. One of the good things of life. Before I had thought that Dana, my 
precious Dana, was the only good thing I had managed to salvage of the 
wreckage that was my life. When we got married I thought my heart was about 
to burst from sheer happiness. And I was happy. Believe me, I was thrilled 
to pieces, no complaints here. I could die happily knowing I had the love of 
my life all to myself.

"I'm pregnant." Those two words, uttered quietly nearly eight months ago, 
changed my life. We were expecting a child and while I was terrified, I 
couldn't help but feel pride and hope. Pride that soon there would be a 
little child to call my own, to raise and love the way I wished I had been. 
And hope that miracles do happen and peace can exist.

When I found out there was nothing left to do but wait I was terrified. What 
were we waiting for? Was something bad going to happen to this child that I 
have fallen in love with? I'd read too many books about mothers dying during 
childbirth and while I had been assured that cases like that were becoming 
rare, I became a wreck. What would I do if we got into a situation where I 
had to choose between the baby and my wife? Who would I choose? What would 
happen if I choose my wife? Would she ever forgive me? When I think of these 
I shrink back, afraid that the gorgeous angel with the copper locks and 
bright blue eyes knows what I'm thinking. Could she forgive me? There's just 
too many questions and I struggle to push them to the back of my mind.

She tenses up quickly and her hands fly to her belly. Is the child coming? I 
question her with her eyes and she pauses, then shakes her head and lies 
back down. Not coming. Not yet anyway. But soon, oh yes, soon our child will 
come. Everything will happen far too quickly for my liking but after 
everthing we have endured and everything we overcame, a helpless infant will 
come into this world, completely dependant on me and my wife. So, even 
though the baby is not coming yet, I'm not worried. I can wait. Difficult as 
it may be, I will wait.

Author's note: I know, the song has no significance to the story. It was 
Katie's favorite song and besides, it's my story and I'll put it in if I 
want to! So there! For some reason I've been having trouble thinking of new 
parts to this series. All comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. 

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

Title: Dream
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish. Nothing graphic.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of Serenity, although you don't 
really have had read it in order to understand this.
Summary: Mulder writes a letter to... well, you'll see.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit that Scully can't have 
kids. I think the rest of this is pretty clear. E-mail me *any* comments, 
please! Be warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too 
much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot 
and says very little.



Dream

It was all a haze. I can barely remember it at first but then everything 
comes clearly. Some things stand out while others are just... fuzzy. But 
this is important so I'll do the best I can.

It was a normal day. Well, I guess I should've seen the signs but I can be 
dense when I want to be. My beautiful bride had been having horrible back 
pains and nothing could relieve it. She curled up on our bed and tried to 
sleep and so I busied myself getting the house straightened. Then suddenly 
she got up and told me, no, she ordered me to drive her to the hospital.

When we got there she was whisked away while I was stuck answering 
questions. I couldn't remember our names, our address, I could only focus on 
the reason for being there. I think I finally remembered because she, 
somehow, got the information she wanted and let me go see my wife.

I remember opening the door to her hospital room, the way my heart slowed 
down at the sight of her. Her eyes were clenched tightly and her copper hair 
was pulled into a messy ponytail, wisps of which stuck to the back of her 
neck and got in her eyes. Her hands were gripping the rails of the bed and, 
though she appeared to be in pain, she made not a sound, aside from the 
occasional groan of agony. Even though she was sticky and sweaty she had a 
glow about her and therefore I think she was the most beautiful person in 
the world.

Ater quite a bit of pain (3 hours, as a matter of fact, not bad!) we were 
told she was fully dialated and after that I can only remember pieces.

I remember us being moved into another room, and the cries of pain, from 
both of us. That I remember clearly. I remember there being a lot of blood 
and then suddenly, out of nowhere, the doctor holds up this perfect child. 
This infant that we had created. And the baby was crying and I was crying 
and my wife was crying and I think the doctor was about ready to cry too. He 
took the baby away for a while and then he came back and placed her into my 
arms. A girl! I have a daughter. Someone to play with and someone to fuss 
over. Someone to go shopping with (although I'm sure she'd prefer her mother 
when she's older) and someone to compare notes on television programs. 
Eventually (hopefully not too soon) she would have boyfriends and a husband 
and kids (my grandkids!). And there would be mean friends, horrible teachers 
and bad boyfriends. But I can handle it all, and so can she. And I know I 
would never hurt her, never, and I would let anything bad happen to her. I 
realized then that I would do anything to protect her and would give 
anything to spend the rest of my life as happy as I was right then.

We talked about names. We didn't want to name you something as simple as 
Katherine, nor did we want to burden you with a name you'd hate for the rest 
of your life (ahem, think FOX!). So then I remembed what your mother had 
said you were for us. "A dream come true. A hope for the future. A new life 
for all of us to treasure and love." So, it was so easy to name you.

So that's what I thought. And I know your mother thought so too. We both so 
happy and I don't think we ever expected anything as wonderful as you. Right 
now you are just an baby, only a few days old, asleep in the pale pink and 
blue crib with the fringe at the bottom. But when you read this I imagine 
you will be a teenager and I wanted you to be able to know what I felt. 
Because, as you may have already found out, I'm not too good at expressing 
my feelings. Your mother has accepted it but I'm trying, really. So, Dream 
Hope Mulder, when you read this remember how I feel. Even when you are mad 
at me, just remember that I love you and have loved you from the moment you 
were born, no, from the moment you were conceived. Your mother and I think 
you are the most precious gift we have ever received and will always love 
you.
Love,
Dad

Author's Notes: I hope you liked this. If you did PLEASE let me know. I 
guess even if you didn't, I'd also like to know, but please be gentle! Um, 
well, I have no one to thank. Ok, well, my own birth mother who I wish I 
could've met, who wrote in her diary that I was "A dream come true." 

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

Title: Love
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish. Nothing graphic.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said
Scully could not have children. So you can say it didn't
happen or there was some miracle between then and now.
This is kind of a continuation of Serenity and Dream,
although you don't really have had read it in order to
understand this. Well, Dream is somewhat important.
Summary: Mulder watches over his child.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit
that Scully can't have kids. I think the rest of this
is pretty clear. E-mail me *any* comments, please! Be
warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained
too much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts
and he notices a lot and says very little.



Love

I think I'm in love with two different women. Nope, I know
it. True, it's nearly three morning and I haven't really
slept all night (or the night before that, come to think of
it) but I am thinking clearly. Just 2 weeks ago my wife (the angel with red 
hair and blue eyes, my love, my beautiful bride) and
I brought home this beautiful creature and she's all ours. As
I sit here in this rocking chair, with one woman of my dreams
cradled in my arms and the other sleeping on the bed not more
than 3 feet away, I realize that this is heaven.

I take inventory of the child in my arms. 10 fingers, 10 toes.
I know that already, I've counted several times. I know
everything by heart because I do this every night, when
everyone else is sleeping. I touch the soft down on my
daughter's head. It's growing in a dark red, like my wife's
but darker. She's in a soft sleeper, a pink one with a pattern
of flowers, made of fleece (I think). I love these little
booties that cover her perfect feet. Perfect feet, perfect
hands. Perfect face. She's... perfect.

She stirs in my arms, making a mewing sounds reminiscent of
a kitten. Her eyelashes flutter and then they part to reveal
crystal blue eyes. Dana (yes, we've gotten past the Me: Mulder,
You: Scully stage. She still calls me Mulder, though, thank
goodness) keeps reminding me that all caucasian newborns are
born with blue eyes but I just love the idea that ours will
have her mother's hair and eyes. She has a tiny upturned nose
(thankgoodness) a few freckles that dot across her cheeks and
down her neck. Not too many, mind you, but just enough. That
sweet baby scent- I don't know what it is. A mixture of baby
powder, lotion, baby sweat? If they could bottle it up I'd be purchasing it 
in the boxes. But right now I'm content since I
have the real thing in my arms. I go back to her eyes, noting
that they are still open and they are focused on my face. She's
memorizing my face. I can imagine her thinking: let's see, big
nose, dark brown hair that flops in his eyes, which are a
greenish color. Cute smile and friendly face. Overall we'll
give him an 'A' for effort.

She's a perfect child already. Only cries when necessary (hungry,
tired, or dirty) and usually sleeping when she isn't showing us
how loud she can be. She sleeps on her side or back (doctor's
orders) and when she is on her back her tiny hands ball up into
fists as she waves them around. Those are the nightmares. When
she is dreaming happy thoughts you can see her eyes under her
eyelids moving around rapidly and sometimes her lips making a
smacking noise, as if she were drinking. What a life- baby's
are content eating or dreaming about dreaming. I tease Dana-
"Dream's dreaming" and no doubt our daughter will get that a
lot. But it suits her- she was our dream come true. And it
appears that she might be one of those people who aren't bossy
or obnoxious, who just stand back and dream up wonderful thoughts
in their mind.

But the times when she is awake are amazing to me. She will stay
contentedly wherever she is placed and will simply memorize her
surroundings. Those big blue orbs move rapidly, searching the room
for any detail she might have missed and storing it for furthur use. Those 
are the times I dream up wonderful thoughts for her. I can
almost see her going to college after graduating as valedictorian,
marrying Mr. Right and having those 2.5 children with a dog. Or a
cat. And there are other times I don't want her to grow up, I just
want her to stay the innocent baby pressed up against my arm,
snuffling as she dreams.

I don't mind the middle-of-the-night feedings. And while I certainly
not the biggest fan of changing diapers, it's a small price to pay
for my angel. Everything dreadful experience I can recall does not
seem payment enough for my angel. And as my beautiful wife pulls my
daughter and I into the warmth of the bed, I cannot think of a better
way to spend my life that surrounded with love.


Author's notes: I just hope everyone is enjoying this "series". Why,
I'd keep writing for one person who enjoys this. Please, any comments
and suggestions are always appreciated. 


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

Title: Wonder
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. 

Summary: Mulder admires his baby girl.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, 
sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder.


My baby girl is three months old today. Hardly a feat I know, and not 
something most parents would celebrate, especially at... 1:35 in the 
morning. But, seeing as how I am up and I just realized Dream's age, I'm 
celebrating. Plus, I never thought I would ever have a little baby (let 
alone a precious child as cute as this) that would survive this long, so, 
why not?

I'm not saying I wish something bad upon her, good heavens, no. I would do 
anything to take care of her, to protect her from the evils her mother and I 
experienced. It's just that, well, we've had so many obstacles blocking us 
from reaching this point and now that we're here, I keep looking back.

I don't want to look back. I just want to keep doing what I'm doing: 
watching in wonder as this little... angel I helped bring into this world 
changes day by day. She's as cute as can be but I can't help feeling this 
overwhelming desire of... worry. What if... Ah, there's so many of them. But 
I try to catch myself and keep track of the good in life and not the bad.

That, of course, starts with Dream. She's just three months old and yet 
she's brought such happiness into my life. I find myself gazing at her, just 
staring in complete wonder of what she is and what she might become. And why 
we were blessed with her presence. She still wakes up in the middle of the 
night, explaining why I'm up so late (or, rather, early) in the night. But 
her tears are easily cured and, once she is fed and satisfied, my lazy (but 
loving) wife gives me the opportunity to rock her to sleep, not a difficult 
task.

I loved the very idea of her. When we discovered that we were, in fact, 
expecting a child, I was in shock. Then I was worried. But, finally, I was 
happy. How could I not be? I'd always wanted a little baby and when I 
finally got to hold her in my arms I was... in awe. And now, three months 
later, I can still hardly believe my good fortune. Her little face scrunches 
up as she yawns and I continue to rock back and forth. How it must feel, I 
wonder, to be able to lie, completely relaxed and at ease, on someone's 
chest, surrounded by both warmth and love. It's amazing, just watching her, 
as she grips tightly to my t-shirt, her face angled just right so that she 
breathes perfect spurts of air right on my neck.

She starts fidgeting and wakes up, soft cries indicating her need for 
attention. I pull her back to face me and her cries fade as she slightly 
moves her head to examine me. *Yes, this face looks familiar. Right, I've 
pulled on that nose before. And that hair, it smells great. I think he's... 
dad. That's it. Dad.* Her face relaxes and, as her blue-green eyes focus on 
mine, I see a hint of a smile being to appear.

A smile? I lean closer and smile brightly, hoping to get her to follow my 
example. Her lips twitch and, sure enough, it does seem to be a smile that 
she gives to me. Even in the dim moonlight, I am certain and my smile gets 
wider. I pull my daughter close to me and place a kiss on her forehead. I 
rock her back and forth, amazed at what just took place. What a wonderful 
feeling. She sniffs, burrying her little nose closer to my neck. She's 
asleep. I'm in shock. I'm thrilled to pieces that *my* child *smiled* at 
*me*. I can't wait to tell her mother. I can't wait for any future smiles I 
might receive. I can't wait til... No. One moment at a time. That's how I 
vowed to live my life, ever since the day I got married to the woman of my 
dreams. So instead of planning for the future, I revel in the knowledge that 
my daughter smiled at me.

Author's note: Cheesy? Rereading it, I think it does sound a bit cheesy? I 
don't know, I just finished watching a new episode of The X-Files not more 
than an hour ago and it always throws me off, how different the characters 
are from what I've changed them into. Hmmm. Well, comments and suggestions 
are always welcome. 

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

Title: Joy
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although it is 
quite obvious what happened.
In case you didn't notice, it's now a series: the Dream series (even though 
there are some where Dream hasn't arrived). 

Summary: It's bathtime/bedtime at the Mulder household.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, 
sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder.


I had always thought getting cleaned was something that should be over 
quick- step in the shower, rinse, lather up, rinse, get outta there. No more 
than ten minutes tops. Dana, on the other hand, thinks showers are lame and 
baths are more relaxing. She can stay in there for quite a while, just 
soaking in warm water; candles, bubble bath and a good book bring her quite 
a bit of joy. Recently I bought her a present and she's in love with it- I 
had someone install a large tub. Big enough for both of us and our darling 
daughter, who has just turned six months.

Previously, Dream had to be bathed in a little contraption in the sink. 
Initially I had thought, what's the fun in that? But it was somewhat funny, 
watching the way her little arms and legs would flail about, splashing my 
wife and I. Occasionally we would end up wetter than she. But our little 
baby girl enjoyed the gentle motions of a warm hand rubbing soap into her 
belly. And after we had cleaned off all the traces of soap from her hair and 
body we would rub baby oil into her skin. That relaxed her, as if we were 
giving her a massage. Then we would dress her up and love her to death.

But now we could all pile into our big built-in tub and pour in the bubble 
bath. Being careful not to let her slip, one of us would hold her tightly 
and the other would lather away, being sure not to let the water she was 
splashing around get into the eyes. These are the days that I'm thankful for 
my photographic memory- the image of my beautiful bride up to her neck in 
bubble bath while she holds on tightly to our daughter and keeps her head 
above the water. At the same time I'm trying to get soap on the baby, not in 
the baby's mouth or eyes.

Lately, it's the simple things in life that bring me much joy. I appreciate 
them more, like the way my daughter appears to be smiling at me when I make 
a silly face, the way she giggles when she grabs my nose, and the way she 
yanks on my ties. But my favorite time of the day is bathtime/bedtime. After 
we get Dream sweet-smelling and presentable (her copper curls slicked back 
make her look quite funny), it's time to get ready for bed.

While I mop up the water that has spilled over the side of the tub, Dana 
feeds our darling daughter. They both look so peaceful: my wife looking down 
at her child with such love in her eyes while our angel has her meal, 
looking back with awe and wonder. Then we rock her in our arms and read a 
book or two. Sing a few songs, unwilling to part with the love of our life 
for as long as possible. When we realize that she has long been sleeping, we 
carefully place her in her crib and creep out. As hard as it is to let go 
now, we know it will be even harder as she gets older. But we have finally 
learned to live life in the present and that results in pure joy.

Author's notes: Thanks for staying with me so far. I love the comments, keep 
em coming. If you have any suggestions for future stories, feel free to let 
me know! Ooh, quick question: should I put 'The DS Series' in the title? Or 
not? 

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

Title: Bonding
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. 

Summary: A trip to the park with Mulder and Dream.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, 
sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder.

Bonding

"Aw, how cute! She is just *adorable*!"

Okay, now tell me something I don't know. No, really. I don't think I could 
ever get enough of hearing people complementing me and my baby. Okay, so 
most of it aimed at my child. Lucky for me, complete strangers constantly 
feel the desire to come up to people like me and just... gush about how 
pretty Dream is. I can't blame them.

It's a gorgeous April day and, in order to give my wife some time to 
herself, my daughter and I took a trip to the park. Call it a bonding 
experience- I am determined to spend as much time as I can with my daughter 
while she still thinks I'm "cool". Dream is now eight months old, time 
certainly does fly, and she has that face that makes people just love her. 
Her dark-auburn hair is still quite short but soft like the feathers of a 
duck. It isn't long enough to get into her eyes, which I have to say, are 
her best feature. My favorite activity these days is just looking into those 
light-green eyes, surrounded by blue. I swear, they change colors. But now 
I'm getting off track. She has cute little pudgy cheeks and button of a 
nose. She's got only traces of baby fat and I love her to pieces.

Dream starts to clap her hands, somewhat awkwardly, and I encourage her, 
clapping my hands to help her out. Whenever I get the chance to be out with 
Dream, just the two of us, I prefer to carry her. I hate strollers. They are 
so difficult to work and I'm always worried that I've set it up so she was 
fall out. Not a great feeling. Nope, I prefer to hold her in my arms; I 
don't even mind the drool on my favorite jacket or the spit up that lands in 
the strangest places.

Taking in my surroundings, I am glad we discovered this park. I think it was 
one of the main reasons we moved into the apartment (it's a short walk- five 
minutes max), although we may not have realized it then. I notice some 
swings built just perfectly for Dream and we make our way to them. Placing 
her into the black plastic seat, I check to make she is securely held by the 
straps, then start pushing her gently.

Babies are so much fun to observe. As Dream flies through the air (in the 
swing), her expressions cross her face. First it is one of confusement (why 
is the ground moving so fast? am i falling?), which changes to amazement 
(wow, there's like this wind blowing in my face, very nice) and eventually 
satisfaction (so let me get this straight- i'm not going to fall, my dad is 
right there and i'm *swinging*? all right, great). Her eyes dart rapidly 
around, taking in the various activities that surround us.

Eventually she seems to get bored of the swing and I make my way back to a 
bench, proping her up on my lap. At first she totters, then she manages to 
sit up-right, a feat that makes her clap. Getting tired, she leans back 
against me and I just enjoy this moment- my daughter and I sitting quietly, 
watching the world go by.

"What a cute little girl you have there," an elderly lady comments, as she 
sits down beside me.

Making space for her, I thank her and wait for her next question: "What's 
her name?" I tell her and watch as the look of confusion appears. Bingo. 
"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly."

"Yes, ma'am (see, I have manners), her name is Dream," I remember the day we 
told my mother-in-law the name of her grandchild. Her expression was 
priceless: complete shock, confusion and, finally, contentment. I waited 
until the lady compemented us one more time, then made our excuses and left 
back to the house. What was the fun of a father-daughter bonding trip if you 
had a stranger trying to bond as well?

Author's note: Please, please, *please*, if you read this and you liked it 
(or even you didn't like it), e-mail me? Great, now I'm begging! 

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

Title: Prioritizing
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of Serenity, although it is 
quite obvious what happened.
Summary: Mulder must prioritize his life.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Like I said in the spoilers, I refuse to admit that Scully can't have 
kids. I think the rest of this is pretty clear. E-mail me *any* comments, 
please! Be warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too 
much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot 
and says very little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet 
names. I can't see them (Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox 
and Dana.


"Sweetie?" My hands pause from their position above the keyboard and, when 
no words follow, I carry on, convinced my wife is addressing our daughter. 
Ridiculous paperwork. Who *really* cares how many miles I drove on the car? 
People have no respect for fathers. Sure, mothers can take off as long as 
they want (although, I must admit, Scully as gone back to work, resulting in 
Dream being placed in daycare) but fathers get nothing. True, the only part 
I had in the whole creation of the child was limited but still. This time 
that I am spending staring at the white face of my laptop could be spend 
doing more productive things. Such as memorizing the ever-changing features 
of my darling daughter.

"Honey? Come quick!" That would be wife's voice. Wait, I think now she is 
calling me. There is no way my child can get anyplace quickly. At least 
until she starts walking, which I am dreading. True, I would never want my 
daughter to be behind on anything, it just feels that time is flying by. 
Soon it will be her first birthday, which follows with potty-training, 
preschool, friends, school, boyfriends, driving, weddings, babies... Ok, I 
have a headache. Great, I'm thinking about grandchildren when my own 
daughter has yet to turn one.

"Mulder, get over here now!" Ooops. Guess I forgot that I was supposed to be 
doing. I make my way over to the living room and stop suddenly. There was no 
way I was expecting what is before my eyes.

In the middle of the various toys, spread out randomly around the room 
(enough to make me pause seeing as how my wife is a bit of a neat freak), 
sits my wife, her hands outstretched. And in between those two arms, not 
touching anything but the ground with her feet, stands, yes *stands*, my 
daughter. Dream wobbles a bit, then rights herself. Her little head with 
those dark-red locks turn towards me, when she offers me a big smile. I 
can't resist; I smile back.

After I have recovered from my initial shock, I look around for a camera. 
Finding one, I zoom in and focus on Scully and Dream, then take the picture. 
Perfect. Photographs have been my life since the day my daughter was born. I 
feel the need to record every moment of her life and, even though it drives 
Scully up the wall, I know one day we will both be grateful.

Putting the camera on a table, I set the timer record, then rush to join the 
rest of my family. Placing my arms around both of them, I smile. The flash 
goes off, blinding us all. My paperworks awaits in the other room and even 
though I know it needs to be done, I have come to realize that there are far 
more important things in life.

Author's note: Work on this series has been a long time coming, but life has 
been hectic over here. Any suggestions for future use will be appreciated, 
as would be any and all feedback! 

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

Title: Leaving
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Archive: Just let me know.
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now.

Summary: Mulder and Scully can't bear to leave their daughter.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: Be warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too 
much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot 
and says very little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet 
names. I can't see them (Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox 
and Dana.


"What else does she need? I've got bottles ready, diapers, wipes, toys, her 
blanket, her stuffed animal... Am I missing something?" I pause from the 
book I was reading aloud to my daughter to turn to my wife, pacing the floor 
and, clearly, panicking.

"Sweetie, will you relax? She'll be fine. Oh, don't forget that book she 
likes to suck on," I hide the need to laugh as Scully frantically searches 
for the hardcover book. Turning back to Dream, I find her gnawing 
contentedly on the pages. Pulling her away, I continue explaining all the 
details to her, "Can you see the balloon? Where's the balloon? See, right 
there. Now, look, there's a cloud. That's right, in the sky. And there's the 
sun..." Realizing my wife has been too quiet, I look up to find her on the 
floor, looking under the couch.

"Honey..." I snicker as she bumps her head on the couch, then, as she turns 
to look at me, I bow my head. "I doubt she'll miss the book that much. We 
*are* only going out for a few hours, not for the rest of her life. Besides, 
I'm sure your mother has plenty of things for her to play with. I think the 
question is, are *you* ready?"

I smile as she considers my statement, then disappears into the bedroom. 
It's understandable that she's nervous. Truth be told, I'm a bit worried 
too. It's not that I don't trust my mother-in-law. It's just we've never 
been that far away from her. The daycare where Dream stays during the day is 
located in the Bureau, only a few minutes away, less if necessary. But 
tonight my wife and I are going out on a date.

That does sound weird, that I'm going out on a date with my wife. But it 
seems that we never have any time to ourselves so, while Scully's mother 
takes care of our darling daughter at her house, we are going to have a 
night out on the town. Or rather, we're going to have dinner and, most 
likely, will rush back to pick up Dream. We're very neurotic. But what can I 
say? We've accepted it and we've moved on.

"So, what do you think?" I turn around and can't help but smile. There 
stands my 'date', in a long, deep red dress, somewhere between casual and 
elegant. Her auburn locks, which she has been letting grow, are loose around 
her shoulder and, dangling off that gold chain of hers is that cross. I 
sigh.

Satisfied that my daugher is occupied and is not off to destroy anything, I 
make my way over to my wife. "Hey, you wouldn't want to go out with my 
tonight, would you?"

She indulges me and my little game, making me love her even more. "Maybe. 
But my husband might get mad," she says coyly.

The sound of little hands clapping and the silvery bells of my daughter 
giggling make us turn around to delight in the sight before us. Our baby 
girl sits in the middle of the floor, obviously amused by her parents. We 
don't want to leave Dream, we just want to take her with us and hold her 
tight and never let her go. But I go off to change as Scully continues 
getting organized, all the while struggling to stay clean from grubby 
fingers and spilled food.

Eventually we make our way to grandmother's house. Mrs. Scully is standing 
before us, holding our little Dream in her arms. "Now, don't worry. She'll 
be fine. We'll have ourself a bit of fun, right pet?" We look down at the 
content child and, satisfied that she would survive, say our goodbyes (which 
last quite a while) and leave.

"Do you think my mother remembered to put on the diaper rash cream? And did 
we forget the tape of lullabies?" I rub my eyes with my hands. I love my 
wife. I do. But try as I might to remember that, I am about to kill her.

"Sweetie, please. We said we wouldn't talk about Dream tonight. Tonight is 
just for *us*, remember?" I struggle to make my wife understand and relax 
but her eyes are still filled with worry.

"I just hate leaving her. I mean, I know we've left her behind in daycare, 
but I *know* Sally... Not that I don't know my own mother is capable. It's 
just..."

"Different, I know. Remember, your mother raised you. And, I'd have to say, 
you didn't turn out quite badly. I seriously doubt your mother would have 
problems with our daughter for a few hours."

Dinner is finished and we are slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor. 
How comfortable I am right now, how happy, with the love of my life in my 
arms, as we turn circles to such peaceful music. The only other time I feel 
like this is when it's the three of us, Scully, Dream and I, dancing 
together... No, I'm not supposed to think of Dream. What am I crazy? How can 
I not think of my daughter? I guess if it were easy for me that would make 
me a bad father. Well, I'm not a bad father and proud of it! I turn down to 
look at Scully and find her gaze fixed on mine. I give in.

So here it is. Nine in the evening. Probably the shortest date in history. 
But I don't mind. Because right now everything is right. Right now my wife 
and my daughter and I are dancing together and nothing could be more 
perfect. Leaving isn't easy but coming back always is.

Author's note: I'm not quite sure if there is a daycare facility in the FBI 
building; if there isn't, there should be. Either way, for my purposes, I've 
created one and I'm sorry if you can't handle that. LOL. I'll probably 
encorporate it into other parts of this series. I hope you enjoyed this, 
feedback, as usual, is appreciated. In other words: EMAIL ME! 


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

Title: Contentment
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Archive: Just let me know.
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now.
Summary: Mulder knows just where to go to find... contentment.
Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.
Notes: I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names. I can't see them 
(Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox and Dana.


I glance at my watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. I can't handle 
this anymore. There's nothing to do. Scully is down performing an autospy 
and unless I want to lose any remnant of breakfast, I would prefer to stay 
clear of her area. Lunch doesn't appeal to me, not after the case I just 
read. Of course I can't get anything done, especially with my partner (that 
red-headed beauty) not here to put my theories down. Tapping the pencil 
against my head, I try to think of something to do.

Suddenly it hits me. Shoving the file into a desk drawer I stand up, grab my 
jacket and make my way to the elevator. Punching in the appropriate button, 
I lean agaist the walls of the elevator, taking in the smiling faces of the 
rest of the people in the room.

Usually one would not associate 'smiling' and 'faces' with anyone remotely 
near me. But, I think, ever since Dream was born people have become 
friendlier towards me. I guess they've realized that I'm just human and, 
right now, coping with the problems commonly associated with rearing a 
child. The same has happened with my wife; I truly believe people have 
stopped calling her 'Ice Queen' and now treat her with more respect. If my 
theory pans out I consider the birth of my daughter more blessings in 
disguise than I can count.

The elevator doors open and I make my way through the halls, avoiding the 
other agents who are making their way back to the elevator. We share smiles, 
small discreet ones, as if we know something the rest of the world has yet 
to discover. Because, after all, we do.

I sign in at the door, then enter the nursery. I take in and bold colors and 
tiny furnishing designed for small children. The sweet baby smell (as 
opposed to those associated with diapers) fills the room and I take a moment 
to delight in it. I find Miss Sally (as she is called by everyone) in the 
rocking chair, struggling to give Billy his bottle while Sara and Callie 
climb up on her lap. Pulling out a few books, I hand them to the girls, 
allowing Miss Sally to continue feeding the baby. She smiles gratefully, 
then whispers, "She's been down for a while. You can wake her."

I nod in understanding and make my way over to the room filled with cots and 
cribs. I spy two babies and pick out my daughter with the dark red hair. She 
looks so peaceful there, lying down with her arms flung outward carelessly. 
I pick her up and make my way to a free chair.

"Dreamy," I whisper, kissing her to wake her up. "Dream-Dream, sleepy time's 
over." She sighs and flails her arms in protest. "C'mon sweets, let's get 
up." A whimper is my response, and she snuggles in closer to my neck, 
breathing those perfect bursts of air.

As much as I want to wake her up to play with her, I don't mind this moment 
right now, her curled up against me. After all, who knows how long this will 
last. So right now I hear her silent plea, "Five more minutes, dad." Just 
five more minutes.

Author's notes: Insert usual begging for feedback here. Too tired to be more 
creative. LOL. Hope you didn't my creation of a nursery (technically a day 
care facility, but, whatever). Call it a plot device, I'll most likely use 
it a bit more in the future. 

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

Title: Bouquets
Author: Dream Cole
E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com
Rating: PGish.
Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S
Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although it is 
quite obvious what happened. If you are missing a piece, let me know and 
I'd be happy to get it to you.

Summary: A sick day means some father-daughter bonding and bouquets of 
flowers.

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. Neither do Winnie the Pooh 
and Veggie Tales. Those are great programs though and I highly recommend 
them for young children.
Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, 
run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very 
little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, 
sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder.



"Sweetie, wake up," my wife tugs on the sheets, whispering in my ear the 
time. "We're going to be late for work."

"Don't wanna." Okay, so me and speaking full sentences in the morning is 
just a bit too much to ask. When I finally fall asleep, boy do I sleep.

"C'mon, it's time to get up Mulder." The tugging was getting more impatient 
and, as much as I hate getting her mad, I *really* did not feel like going 
to work. So I voiced my opinion. Struggling to open my eyes, I squinted and 
was able to make out the flame-red of her hair.

"Scully, I'm calling in sick today. Tell him I feel sick." Her jaw dropped 
when she saw that I was serious. "Look, I'll take care of Dream with me 
today, just... let me stay home. You can stay home too if you want to..." I 
said, suggestively.

Her face was of utter disgust. "That's okay. I'll tell Skinner you and Dream 
are staying home today. Just when I get home... I expect the house to be 
intact."

"Scout's honor. Now, let me sleep!" I muttered into the pillow. The sounds 
of Dana getting ready for works faded as I drifted back to sleep.

"Da."

Hmmm. Why can't people let other people sleep?

"Da," came again, followed by an incessant patting on my head. I listened as 
the sheets rustled and groaned as my daughter jumped on top of my stomach, 
making her giggle. "Da-da."

"Okay, I'm up, I'm up," I reached around her chin and tickled her, planting 
kisses all over her face. My daughter. It still made me smile. Nearly two 
years old already, walking and talking. Her strawberry-brown hair was 
getting long and had slight curls to it so we tended to pull them up into 
pigtails. Clich, I know, but it made her look so cute. "Should we have some 
breakfast?" She nodded her head vehemently and I struggled to get out of 
bed. Placing her in the high chair, I rustled up some food and served 
breakfast.

I loved the precious time I have with my daughter. That's why I call in sick 
at least a couple of times a month, as does my wife. Just to spend time with 
Dream, just the two of us. I pull her hair into the two pigtails and let her 
pick out her outfit: a blue dress. I help her get ready, then we make out 
way outside to find things to do.

It's a beautiful July day. August will be Dream's birthday. She's getting so 
big. I figure we'll make our way to the park and then waste time. Then we 
can have some lunch, take a nap and be bright-eyed and happy by the time 
Mommy gets home.

"Fow-er." Dream declares happily. I stop and look at her. "Fow-er." She says 
again, pointing eagerly. I follow her finger and see a flower shop, filled 
with all kinds of flowers. Wait, who taught her how to say flower?

"Should we buy some flowers for Mommy?" When she nods her head I take her 
hand and we go into the store.

The fragrance of various flowers fill the air and Dream is almost overcome 
with awe at the number of different flowers that are here. We walk around 
and I point out different kinds of flowers, only to be rejected with a 
serious shake of the head- "NO!"

She pulls at my hand and leads the way and I follow my daughter until she 
stops. "Fow-er." A simple daisy stares back at us, the white petals 
surrounding the yellow center, so beautiful and simple and utterly perfect.

"Daisy." I tell her and watch as she struggles to form the word. "Should we 
buy Mommy some daisies?" I help her pick out some daisies and then we let 
the shop owner decorate it with baby's breath and a bow. I head towards the 
park but she refuses to go and points back in the direction of the house. 
Kids these days. You can never understand them.

We waste the time by watching videos- among them: Winnie the Pooh and Veggie 
Tales- then we practice. My wife loves feeling loved and what better way to 
do so than by being told she is loved. "I love you," I tell Dream.

She stares blankly at me. I try again. "I love you you you you you." I say, 
pointing her finger into her stomach and making her giggle.

Taking her finger, she points to my stomach. "You."

My turn. "I love you."

"You."

I give up. Well, she's got a third of it down. We hear the key turn in the 
lock then watch as my other beautiful red-head walks into the room. I direct 
Dream and watch happily as she presents her mother with the bouquet of 
daisies. "I know they're nothing special, but she insisted," I explain.

"They're perfect," she sighes, picking up Dream and smothering her with 
kisses.

They need some time alone. I decide to make my way into the other room when 
I hear, so soft I think I'm imagining it, "Wuv you." My wife and I gasp and 
exchange glances. Perfect.


Author's note: I'm a sucker for daisies, what can I say. I haven't written 
anything in a while and I've missed all the encouraging feedback! So write 
me!

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

Title: Outing

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in reading the 
others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: It's an outing with Mulder and Dream.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.

Notes: I know, I haven't written in a while. I got a couple of e-mails from 
people who had the read the others in the series and decided to try to write 
some more. Be warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too 
much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot 
and says very little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet 
names. I can't see them (Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox 
and Dana.

Outing

It was my day off, my one day to spend alone with my daughter. So how could 
I resist? When we got married, the idea of children hadn't crossed our mind, 
especially since we had thought that we were unable to bear children. But 
then Dream entered out lives and that little surprise brought us such joy... 
but then there were our jobs. My wife took some time off to spend with our 
baby but eventually the need for her job, for responsibility and repsect as 
so great that we compromised. Now we leave Dream in the daycare facility 
located in the FBI building so she's just within reach, and one of us has a 
day off every week to have some one-on-one time with our daughter.

I woke up, as usual, had my shower and ate breakfast with my beautiful 
bride. Dana looked at me longingly, wishing it was her day, but Dream and I 
smothered her with affection and sent her out the door. Then I turned to my 
daughter, sitting in her high chair wearing her breakfast, and decided that 
a bath was in order.

I drew a bath and while rinsing her, I tried to think of what we could do. 
Maybe a walk in the park? A trip to the gym? A visit to the zoo?

Suddenly it came to me and I got excited at the idea. I pulled a squirming 
Dream out and toweled her off, dressing her in a little green sundress and 
plopping a matching hat on her head. Grabbing her bag full of supplies, we 
left the apartment.

We walked for a while. There's nothing I love more than walking with Dream 
in my arms, pointing out the little details. She smiles in return, her lips 
unable to repeat, only gurgle and giggle. We waved to people, smiled at 
passerbys and talked to strangers.

Finally we stopped at a sandwich shop. Ignoring the menu, I ordered two 
sandwiches, two drinks and a slice of cake. Then Deam and I were back on the 
go, walking for a while. One quick stop and then we were back on our way.

The FBI building. Ah, I knew it too well. We made our way through the front, 
smiling at familiar people. It's amazing what a baby can do for your 
reputation. I'm no longer "Spooky" Mulder, the agent that people hide from. 
I'm looked at in a whole new light and those people who used to stay away 
from me now smile in greeting. Not that I'm not intimidating. I have my 
moments.

We finally stopped and I smiled at the sight before me. My wife at work. Her 
smooth, porcelein skin was slightly creased in concentration, her teeth 
absently tugged on her lower lip. Her auburn hair, which now flows around 
her shoulders, framed her face and her eyes shone crystal blue. Her 
fingertips were tapping against the table, meaning she either didn't enjoy 
what she was reading or she didn't approve.

A gurgle from the child in my arms shattered the moment and Dana's head 
whipped up, across her face I saw both sadness and worry. Then her eyes met 
mine and a smile started. When they saw Dream it turned into a full-fledged 
grin.

"What are you doing here?" I couldn't help it, I had to laugh, her 
expression was that of sheer contentment just for a small visit.

"We have a surprise for you," I took her hand and we snuck out of the office 
and walked until I found the perfect spot. I pulled out a blanket and placed 
it under the shadows of a tree, delighting in the laughter of my wife and 
the echoing giggles of my daughter.

I ate lunch with my wife and daugther. We ran around and played, watched a 
kite dance in the sky and talked. My wife, the smart one in the relationship 
appaently, had a camera in her purse and we had someone take our picture. 
It's framed on the desk in our office. Tomorrow we both go to work and leave 
our daughter in daycare. But I think that since today was such a success, I 
might have to try it again. Looking at the expressions of sheer happinees on 
our faces in the picture, I definitely think we have to.

Author's note: I'm not quite sure if there is a daycare facility in the FBI 
building; if there isn't, there should be. Either way, for my purposes, I've 
created one and I'm sorry if you can't handle that. LOL. I'll probably 
encorporate it into other parts of this series. I hope you enjoyed this, 
feedback, as usual, is appreciated. In other words: EMAIL ME! Please please 
please?


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

Title: Hope

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. Well, know that Scully was unable to bear children at one 
point and that she had cancer. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream 
Series, although it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in 
reading the others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: All ya need is... hope.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.

Notes: This is pure sap. Pure sap! Well, there's a story in there, but... 
well, read it and find out. Be warned: if you are one of those who 
complained I explained too much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's 
thoughts and he notices a lot and says very little. By the way, I call 
Scully... Scully, among other pet names. I can't see them (Mulder and 
Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox and Dana.

Hope

I hate doctors. Hate them, hate them with a passion. You'd think I'd be used 
to them considering the amount of time I spent in a hospital. I even married 
a doctor, I should get over it. But I can't. Because they nevr bring me good 
news, all they do is ruin my life. And today, I know, will be no exception. 
I left the water from the shower head run over my body, I bury my head in my 
hands, lean against the cold tiles and breathe deeply. I can't do this. I'm 
not strong enough. But I have to be.

Today my wife and I took the day off of work for one reason. Tomorrow, 
Saturday, is my daughter's first birthday. We're having kids from the 
daycare she goes to, friends and family come to celebrate. The theme? That 
good old bear, Winnie the Pooh. But that's tomorrow. Today is Friday. Today 
is a trip to the doctors for both Dream and Dana. all sorts of test will be 
run and by the end of today (I love having connections) our world might 
change.

We had been walking on eggshells since the day my wife and I found out we 
were expecting a child. Every test possible was done during the pregnancy 
and immediatly after. We were told that everything was fine and to go home 
and be happy. Since then we've tried to do that by living in denial, 
pretending that the horrors we experienced never happened. We live in an 
apartment with neighbors that have yet to hear shots to come from our room, 
intruders break in and people to die. We ignored the fact that our daughter 
was thought to be impossible a couple of years ago, a pipe dream. She's now 
become so much a part of our life that the idea of living without her... I 
rub the towel over myself roughly to rid myself of that horrible thought. 
But at the same time, I think we're still on the guard. Every day I stay up 
late or sneak out of bed to have a little longer with my sleeping baby. 
There's nothing more beautiful than a baby fast asleep: the way her little 
chest rises steadily and how her perfect lips expel breaths of air as she 
breathes. Her locks of auburn, slightly damp from sweet baby sweat, cover 
her tiny head. How her eyes move under her eyelids. Her little fingers 
clenced into tiny fists. Those adorable Winnie the Pooh pajamas with the 
little feet to keep her warm. I could spend half the day looking at her, 
memorizing her, loving her.

The rest of the day would be spent watching my wife sleep. The way her nose 
crinkles up and how her eyelids flutter. How her copper hair flows around 
her face and neck, tickling me if I get too close. How her hands, her small, 
soft hands, grip thesheets, pulling them towards her, leaving me shivering. 
All the time I spent without her, needing her, looking for her seems so far 
away and yet too close at the same time. the idea that something could be 
wrong with her, even the samllest indication, causes such pain. I couldn't 
bear losing her, raising Dream alone, or the other way around.

I leave the bathroom and a cloud of steam follows me into the bedroom, where 
my sleeping wife lays. Usually she's up by now, coffee in hand, so I start 
up the coffee machine and get breakfast ready. I wake her up with a smile 
and some caffeine and watch her walk out of the room to get ready. Then I go 
to wake up my daughter but find her lying in her crib, happily waiting for 
smoeone to play with her. I get her dressed and then we waited to eat 
breakfast as a family.

The walk to the doctor's was excruciating for me. I kept sneaking glances at 
the two women in my life, reflecting on how empty I would feel without them. 
Dana's hands was in mine and I squeezed it tightly.

Suddenly she stopped walking right in the middle of the sidewalk. She pulled 
on my hand, causing me to stop also and I turned to see what was happening. 
There stood my gorgeous wife, my partner, my best friend. In one arm she 
carried our daughter, the other pulled at my hand, bringing me closer to 
her. "This isn't how it's going to work," she declared.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I can't handle this, I know what you're thinking and I want you to stop. As 
of right now we have no reason to be sad, only reason to be happy. So that's 
what we'll be."

"But Day-"

"No. What is your daughter's middle name? Have you forgotten that already?"

I pause, then smile, remembering how we named our baby girl. 'Dream Hope 
Mulder'. Hope. I tell her so, and wait for her to continue.

"There's still hope. There's always hope. Forget about what happened in the 
past. Appreciate the present and remain hopeful about the future. Because in 
the end, that's what we have dreams, hopes and love," her blue eyes sparkled 
with determination, trying to make me undertand.

"Okay. Okay," I plucked a curious Dream from her arms and held her close, 
gesturing for Dana to join us.

We walked into that doctor's office with smiles on our faces, small ones 
though they might be, and laughter in our eyes. We had no fear as Dream left 
us and we exchanged quick smiles when Dana was taken away. Whem my 
mother-in-law called to reassure me, I surprised her with my confident 
attitude, in fact, I surprised myself. I didn't pace and I didn't work; I 
didn't reflect and I didn't get sad. Instead I planned for the future.

I made plans for the party tomorrow and for the parties that would follow. I 
pictured Dream growing up, getting older, becoming smarter and eventually 
leaving us to start her own life. I pictured Dana and I together. The day we 
would quit our jobs and simply grow old togheter. I pictured the way my life 
would bge and ignored how it was and should be.

We turned off our mobile phones and spent the rest of the day together, 
outside of the apartment, making new memories. We took pictures, we smiled, 
we laughed and we made others do the same. And then we went back and ate a 
home cooked meal together, forgetting all about the tests, the results and 
our worries.

The phone rang later that evening and once again fear swept through my 
heart. Dana leaned ran into my arms and we held each other for a while, the 
denial that we had been living in all day flew away and the truth came back. 
But we held each other and then I finally leaned over and pressed the button 
for the speaker phone.

"Yes, the results for the tests are back. Dream Hope Mulder, as far as we 
can determine, is a perfectly ordinary child. Average height and weight and 
there are no abnormalities that we can see."

I let out a large sigh of relief and smiled, holding Dana closer to me. I 
closed my eyes as I waited for the doctor to tell me about her. I held my 
breath and listened.

"Dana Scully Mulder's physiology has changed, for reasons that we are unable 
to determine. Her ovaries are in perfect working order and any signs of her 
cancer is gone. I can see no reason either of them would lead anything but 
perfectly ordinary lives."

I managed to gasp out my thanks before squeezing my wife tighter as we let 
our big gasps of air and laughed, tears streaming down our eyes.
After a while I ran over and picked up Dream and we held her close, dancing 
around. Not only were they both fine but Dana had the possibility of 
conceiving again. It couldn't get much better than this.

"You see Mulder?" I turned to my wife, her eyes sparkling with tears as she 
talked, "Dreams, hopes and love. We've got it all." I have to agree. Because 
we do. We have our dreams, some of which have come true, our hopes for the 
future and the love to last us the lifetime.

Author's note: Pure sap, I know. Mushy stuff, I tried warning you. So... did 
you like it? I love e-mails and don't get enough of them so please let me 
know. Also, any suggestions are appreciated, both in style of writing and 
ideas for future stories.

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

Title: Breathe

Author: Dream Cole 

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com 

Archive: Just let me know. 

Rating: PGish. 

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S 

Spoilers: None. Well, know that Scully was unable to bear children at 
one point and that she had cancer. This is kind of a continuation of 
the Dream Series, although it is quite obvious what happened. If you 
are interested in reading the others in the series, please e-mail me 
and let me know.

Summary: Ever have one of those days...? 

Disclaimer: I don't own em. If I would, they'd be treated a lot 
better than they are being treated, believe you me!

Notes: Okay, this is a result of me having THE lousiest week.. and 
it's just started. When I found out about Leyla I felt inspired to 
write something in her memory, and this came out. She was a 
fantastic writer and a great person, and fanfic will be different 
without her.

Breathe

It was the day from hell. Just when things couldn't possibly get 
worse.. they did. And then... they got worse. 

It started out not a big deal. I woke up shivering a million and one 
times during the night because my lovely wife and pulled the covers 
off of me. Okay, no problem. I can just roll her over, regain my 
portion of blanket, and go back to sleep. The fact that this 
happened many times didn't bother me. And it didn't bother me that 
she was sleeping on my part of the bed either, that's okay also. 
And, while waking up on the floor isn't my idea of a good time, I was 
okay with that. It wasn't anything I couldn't get over.

But things kept building up. My daughter, who usually wakes up in a 
good mood, didn't. Usually I'll get out of bed, take a nice warm 
shower, find some coffee ready, and walk over to her room, where 
she'll be lying in bed, playing with the mobile above her bed. 
She'll see me, give me a big grin, and reach up for me, and then give 
me a big hug and I'll have a great day because that hug stays with me 
for most of the day. So I'll get my hug and then get my kiss from my 
freshly showered wife and everything turns out fine.

But not today. I woke up on the floor. Great. As I fell, I took 
the alarm clock with me so the alarm didn't wake us up. Even 
better. When I finally got up, it was to my wife tripping over me as 
she got out of her shower, and I entered the bathroom to find cold 
water. So I finish my freezing shower in record time to find that 
our coffee maker has decided not to work anymore and have to settle 
for a soft drink instead. That's okay, it's still caffeine. I make 
my way to Dream's room, to find her utterly pissed off. She's 
teething and as a result, has not been a happy child for the past 
couple of days. She's lying there asleep, and waking her up is never 
a pleasant experience. So I try to wake her up soothingly, "Dream, 
honey, it's time to wake up. C'mon sweetie, let's get ready. Dream-
dream, let's go? Wanna go find mommy?" She protestingly parts her 
long eyelashes to reveal her sparkling blue-green gems, and takes one 
look at me, scrunches up her face and starts working her lungs, 
screaming something fierce. I try to calm down, and then panic as my 
wife rushes into the room. "I didn't do it," I explain as Scully 
leans over and picks up our daughter. "I didn't even touch her!" I 
exclaim, as she rushes them out of the room. 

I follow them down the hall and watch in relief when I realize that 
my daughter is not being taken away from me and is instead being 
given a cold pacifier to suck on to relieve the pain in her mouth. 
The screams slowly stop and I can breathe again. I lean against the 
wall and close my eyes against everything, trying to take deep 
breaths. I feel two warm hands cup my cheeks and give me a soft kiss 
on my lips and I accept it, using it to make myself feel better. 
Then I feel a kiss on my forehead and know my wife must be really 
stretch on the tips of her toes to kiss me there, which makes me 
smile. I gave her a hug and she holds me close. We stand in the 
kitchen there for a little while, holding each other. 

Crying causes us to seperate and we dash to the living room to find 
our daughter with tears streaming down her cheeks. We look around to 
find out what upset her and see nothing. Then suddenly a white flash 
fills the room, followed by the loud rumbling that signifies 
thunder. The sound of rain hitting the windows fills the room and 
what was peace and quit only moments ago turns hectic when combined 
with noise from the storm, Dream's screams of anxienty and my wife 
rushing us to leave before traffic starts.

The rest of the day was just a blur of bad news. We managed to get 
stuck right in the middle of traffic so I spent the ride to work 
listening to my daughters cries, the sound of the storm pelting our 
little green car and the two deejays on the radio talking about some 
nonsense. Then, to make it worse, due to the weather we couldn't go 
out in the field and were forced to do paperwork. By the end of the 
day I couldn't feel my hand, a direct result of having to sign my 
name on countless forms. I'm not sure if I even spelt it right at 
the end. Then, to make things better, I got chewed out for "going 
over the budget", which was "placed for a purpose" and as a result 
would be watched more closely. Oh goody. 

What next? Oh, how about the fact that my daughter had a birthday 
party to attend to in the evening? Yup. Scully and I had asked to 
work for only the morning in order to take Dream to this party. The 
catch was, Scully's mother needed to go to the doctors for a checkup 
and needed to take her daughter with her. Therefore, guess who got 
to attend a party for a bunch of one-year olds? That's right, me. 
The weather hadn't changed in the slightest so the half a dozen 
children had been indoors all day and would be stuck indoors for the 
rest of the day, meaning that they were not in the best of moods. 
After keeping hands away from presents, out of food and away from 
clothes, hair and body parts, the dull pounding that signaled a 
headache had already started and was getting stronger by the minute. 
I was only too happy to leave and drive Dream back home....

to find the house cold, dark, empty. Now, while I don't expect to 
have food prepared for me, that would have made things a little bit 
better. Especially since I am no cook, to say the least. But that's 
okay, I'm old enough to take care of myself. I don't mind that my 
day has been horrible. That all I want is my wife to take care of 
me, to give me a hug and tell me it's going to be okay, to fix 
dinner, to calm down Dream, who has resorted to pulling at my sleeves 
and howling in pain, soaking the edges of my shirt. I pull her close 
to me, and hold her, willing her to stop crying.

Just when I contemplate actually crying with my daughter, the locks 
unclick and my angel of a wife walks in, I could almost see the halo 
shining above her copper hair. As she walks in, a delicious aroma 
wafts in with her. She sets down her bags in the kitchen, then walks 
back in the room. She hands Dream something to help her with her 
teething, then takes her child and gathers her in her arms. Then she 
snuggles up against me, squeezes me tightly.

"Hasn't been a great day for you either huh? I got some Chinese 
takeout, thought we could use it." She murmurs above the sounds of 
Dream's quieting sobs.

"It's getting better," I admit, as I gather her tighter in my arms. 

Suddenly, things are calm. The storm has quieted down, and there is 
just silence in the apartment. Holding my daughter and bride in my 
arms, I know that things are looking up already. I close my eyes and 
enjoy the moment, just as my wife says, "It's going to be okay."

Notes: This was hard to write. I don't know why, usually it comes 
easy. Please, support and encouragement are accepted and 
appreciated. So is hate mail, but that doesn't really make my day, 
now does it? E-mail me at dreamcole@hotmail.com

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

Title: Exhaustion

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in reading the 
others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: Read the title and guess what's going on. :-P

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.



Exhaustion

You'd think that the terrible two's would start at age two, wouldn't you? 
That's what I had always believed. I mean, I had always hoped that Dream 
would simply bypass that stage but somewhere deep down I knew that wouldn't 
happen. Wishful thinking, I know, I know.

Anyway, I'd always thought that the terrible two's would start at age two. 
And so far my daughter had been an angel. She started walking and talking a 
bit before anyone expected, a pleasant surprise. And she was starting to 
get the hang of toilet training, which was a relief for me as diapers 
weren't exactly my favorite part of parenting. So when we were entering the 
last month or so of Dream's 2nd year with us, I thought we were safe.

And then it started.

Dream's mother has never been dependant on me, and I've never been one to be 
dependant on anyone, so when my daughter started becoming independant I 
thought nothing of it. That is until it started to hurt.

At first it was little things, really. She wanted to get her drink by 
herself. That's fine, she can do that, I don't mind. She wanted to pick 
out her own clothes. Okay, I can just make sure they match somewhat. She 
wanted to put her shoes on without help. That's fine, if she can handle 
wearing shoes on the wrong feet, I can handle being excluded.

But when "no" became her favorite word, that's when I started getting 
frustrated. When she gave the stroller a bad look and stubbornly told us 
she would not get in it, I got annoyed. And when she refused to let me 
carry her, preferring to walk, my heart started to hurt.

That's not to say I'm not proud of my child growing up, because I am. But 
suddenly she doesn't want me around anymore, I'm not good enough. She's a 
"big girl" now, which is fine and dandy, but I miss my baby. That little 
bundle of love that I brought home from the hospital. The face covered with 
mushed peas, laughing and flinging her spoon around. The little girl with 
the pigtails (yes she had the pigtails), running towards Daddy, excited to 
see her father back from work.

Now she's happy to see me, but not as much as I'd like. She loves daycare 
now, so when her mother and I go to pick her up, she's reluctant to leave. 
And after a long hard day at work, I'm exhausted and just want to go home 
with my daughter in one arm and my lovely wife in the other. I want to eat 
dinner with my family and then settle around a book or a game.

But noooo that's not how my life is. We arrive and we're exhausted. Scully 
goes and takes a nap, worn out from work, and Dream goes and stares at the 
TV, ordering me to "go 'way". Thanks a lot, love you too.

The weekends aren't much better. My wife needs more sleep than I thought 
possible and lies around most of the time, dressing in sweats and avoiding 
makeup. Dream visits friends her age, reads her books (or rather, stares at 
the pictures) and, if I weren't keeping an eye on her, would spend her life 
in front of the television. Not that she watches junk, I get her to watch 
educational programs, I'll have you know.

So today was one of those days where my lovely wife was taking a nap in our 
bedroom - her last coherant words being "get Dream to bed" - and my darling 
daughter was painting... on the walls. Who wants boring white walls when 
one can smear them with assorted colors from a paintbox?! Ask the parents? 
Of course not! I wonder if she realizes that WE are the ones in charge, not 
her.

"Dream, sweetie? Mommy wants you to go take a nap, will you go lie down 
with her?" I ask cautiously, knowing the answer before the question is 
finished.

"No," she says rather calmly, not even glancing up from her artistic 
abilities.

"Dream?"

"No, TANK YOU," she replies, remembering her manners. At least I brought 
her up to be well-mannered. It's the obedience part that we need to work 
on.

"Baby, mommy and daddy need their sleep so why don't we all go lie down in 
the big bed?"

She doesn't even bother to reply. I get tons of respect around here, can't 
you tell?

I reach over and take the paintbrush from her hand and put it back in the 
box, cringing as the wails begin. Kids have the art of temper tantrums down 
- they know exactly how to cry so they'ree slightly annoying enough to get 
their way but just pathetic enough to earn sympathy. But I can't fall for 
that, I'm the Father and it is my duty to get this cranky kid to bed. I 
reach over and pick her up from the floor and place her under the covers in 
her bed. She struggles to get up but I'm two steps in front of her and 
gently push her so that she's lying down.

I leave the room, remembering the first time I had to do this. Scully and I 
had read that we can't run to our baby every time she wakes up in the middle 
of the night, she needs to learn to put herself to sleep. So we stayed in 
our room, her in my arms, our hearts breaking as our daughter screamed 
bloody murder. When the cries finally subsided, we closed our eyes and 
tried to sleep. It doesn't get easier, nearly two years later. She's still 
crying, screaming and when I walk back into the room she turns her back to 
me, obviously unhappy with me.

I lie down with my daughter and her sobs subside. She's still daddy's 
little girl and she lies in my arms and listens to the beating of my heart. 
She's forgiven me, I can tell by the way she's letting me hold her. Somehow 
the room goes fuzzy and everything goes quiet, save for the deep breathing 
of my sleeping child. I let the contentment of realizing that I was finally 
victorious in getting my child to sleep, before I lose consciousness myself.

I'm awoken to the worried expression of my wife standing over me. The room 
has gotten dark, we've all slept for several hours. What a lazy bunch we 
are. I pry myself apart from my daughter and try to see if I can comfort 
her.

"What's wrong sweetie?" I ask as she paces the floor, trying to make a dent 
in the carpet. I step in her way and hold her closely in a hug.

She pulls away slightly, looks up at me and then blurts out her news before 
I can even wrap my mind around it:

"I'm pregnant."

THE END

Author's note: I'm not sure if anyone is interested in this anymore so... 
lemme know and I might finish where I left off. This story has an implied 
"To Be Continued..." ending, with a question mark on the end, depending on 
if anyone cares or not. In other words: feedback is my friend!

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

Title: Peace

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in reading the 
others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: Mulder and Scully struggle to decide the future.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.

Quick note: This is a continuation from Exhaustion so if you haven't read 
that yet you might want to go read it. You'll probably get the picture of 
what's going on, but just in case... :-)



Peace


"I'm sorry, what did you say?" My mind couldn't comprehend what my wife 
just said. I blinked the sleep away and tried to concentrate. I've never 
been good at paying attention when I first wake up so talking to me after 
I've just awoken from a nap is never a good idea.

Something was wrong though, I could tell that much. Scully looked worried 
and tired, about how I felt. Her clothes were wrinkled from her nap, her 
gorgeous hair swept up in a messy ponytail and her face scrubbed free of 
makeup. Her actions weren't typical either - my usually calm and composed 
wife was fidgeting, her eyes darting around the room as she chewed on her 
lower lip, an endearing trait that made me want to sweep her into my arms. 
But I could tell by the way she was acting that now wasn't the time.

"Mulder, it'll be okay, you know? We can handle this, right? I mean, it'll 
be fine, just fine." She sat down on the bed with me and Dream, sneaking a 
peek at our sleeping beauty.

"Scully, I didn't hear what you said," I braced myself for the worst.

"Uh," she took a deep breath, looked me in the eyes and said, "I'm 
pregnant."

Oh. That would explain her uneasy attitude. While we do love Dream and 
would do anything for her, these past couple of weeks have been stressful 
what with her rebellious stage kicking in. Moments like now, when she's 
fast asleep and looking adorable put a big grin on my face. But when she's 
running around the house, disobeying her own parents, and throwing temper 
tantrums I would like nothing better than to hide under the covers until 
she's either reverted back to her cute self or grown up.

Another baby? Can we do this? I could tell my wife wanted an answer by the 
way she kept darting looks in my direction, pretending that she was fine but 
secretly needing to know how I felt about this. I mean, there was no 
question that we had to have this child, we were both against abortion, but 
I don't think Scully would have survived being alone in the pregnancy. I'd 
never leave her, that's not what I mean. Alone in wanting this child. I'm 
still tired, I can't think straight.

"What do you think?" I asked her.

She looked down at her hands. "I know we didn't plan but, I dunno. I mean, 
a baby! I wish we had waited a bit longer, but maybe it'll be okay. It 
will be okay. It'll just take some... adjusting."

She was hurting and I knew why. She had taken off a great deal of maternity 
leave when Dream was born and though she didn't mind because of the baby, 
she had missed work. And now she's only been back at work for a year and 
she has to start all over? It had cost her, leaving work to become a mommy 
- she had been struggling to regain her pposition, her authority, her 
respect.

But then I thought of other things. I remembered the first time I saw my 
baby - my baby! - covered in fluids and screaming her lungs off as the 
nurses struggled to clean her off. The way she looked into my eyes and 
snuggled in my chest, recognizing me immediately as someone she could trust. 
 The way I could take her for walks and teach her things. The way she 
loved me, would always love me, and the way I loved her. The feeling of 
pride the day she started saying "da da". The surge of happiness that 
sprung up inside of me when she would come running into my arms after a long 
day. The sense of peace that came over me as I held her on my lap, with my 
wife by my side, reading her a story. Could I do this again? Probably. 
Did I want to? Definately.

I could tell Scully was still waiting for an answer, striving to read my 
face for a response. I took her hand in mine. "We can do this."

Her face lit up and I could tell that her thoughts had been similar to mine. 
 "Yes. We will."

THE END

Author's Notes: Someone called me a feedback whore the other day (In a nice 
way, I hope) and I suppose that's true so... didja like it? Feedback 
feedback feedback!

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

Title: Awe

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in reading the 
others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: Bad news.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.

Quick note: This is a continuation from Exhaustion and Peace so if you 
haven't read those yet you might want to go read them. You'll probably get 
the picture of what's going on, but just in case... :-)


Awe


A baby! We're going to have a baby! I can hardly conceive of this. I 
mean, yes this isn't a new thing because we already have Dream. But it's 
still exciting! I can't wait! A new baby! Another bundle of love!

I already have big plans. I'm not bothered by a girl or boy. I don't 
harbor any secret preferences. I'd be more than content with either. I 
can't wait. Have I said that already? I know, I'm gushing. I mean, I know 
I was totally panicking about it earlier but this is a dream come true. 
It'll be okay in the end. Right? I mean, one of us won't have to work and 
I don't mind if it's me. And, yes things might get complicated but we could 
make it work. It's going to be our new baby!

Back to my plans. If it's a girl... a little sister for Dream. She can 
wear the hand-me-downs, however we'd be sure to let her have her own 
clothes. We could dress them alike and people would gush about how cute 
they are! I can just imagine Dream teaching her new little sister things. 
Dream has this soft side, this sweet side to her, and I know she would love 
a family member.

But if it's a boy... Oh wow. I could teach him to play basketball. He'd be 
my little boy. I could teach him how to fix things, to meet girls, 
everything a dad does. I would be there for my little boy. I'd tell him 
I'd love him everyday, and make sure that he knows that I mean it. That I 
do love him. Because I would. My own childhood wasn't that great and I'll 
make sure that never happens to my boy. And when he gets older, I can see 
him protecting Dream, taking care of his older sister. The dreams are 
endless.

You know, when my wife first told me that we were having another child, it 
didn't really hit me. I mean, I understood but it seemed too far off, 
unimaginable. So I said yes to it and went on with my life, not giving it a 
second thought.

Then we went to the doctor's. She had a checkup and everything went fine. 
I blocked out all the medical junk and distanced myself from the situation. 
And then I heard the tiny beating of a little heart. That's my child's 
heart. It wasn't an object, a thing, something to be avoided. It's a baby, 
my baby and soon enough we'll meet and bond.

I can hardly wait.

Author's Note: Short but sweet. I have the next one in progress, sorry 
it's taken a while to write, I've been busy. Feedback!

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

Title: Despair

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in reading the 
others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: Bad news.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.

Quick note: This is a continuation from Exhaustion and Peace and Awe so if 
you haven't read those yet you might want to go read them. You'll probably 
get the picture of what's going on, but just in case... :-)



Despair



"How could this happen? How could we let this happen?" I could only shrug 
my shoulders as I watched my wife frantically pace the floor, clutching 
Dream to her tightly. Her hands were shaking and her voice trembled as she 
let the fear take control of her.

"Sweetie, it's okay. You know, we'll get through this. We always get 
through things together," I reached over and tried to take our squirming 
daughter from her arms but she only squeezed tighter, "Look, let's just try 
to think rationally, okay?"

"Okay. Okay. I can do this. We can do this," She struggled to regain 
control. I struggled to remember how this all happened.

Things were going, well, fine. Dream was getting to be a handful, stuck in 
her terrible two's and entering her third year with us. We still loved us 
and there was always those precious few moments when she would curl up with 
us and we would get a glimpse of that sweet child that we always loved.

Then the news of a pregnancy was dropped on us. Namely, my wie was 
pregnant. We didn't think we could handle it but we wanted to. There was 
hardly another option so we had to take what we received, but it had caused 
a bit of stress in the household.

Then the first appointment to the doctor came up. We both went, excited to 
find out about our new baby. Things were fine. Everything looked good, 
according to the professional and we went home and enjoyed our baby 
presently with us. We had a big birthday party for her third birthday, 
which resulted in a wrecked house, an overload of gifts, and headaches for 
the two of us. We took some time at work, trying not to tell people about 
the pregnancy for fear of "jinxing" it, but we also tried to think of a way 
to break it to our daughter.

Then came the second doctor's appointment, complete with ultrasound. The 
words uttered came as such a surprise - we could not speak, only stare in 
disbelief and listen as our hearts shattered. "There are some abnormalities 
- you might want to consider an abortion"". Ten words. That's all it took.

That was only yesterday. We spent the rest of the day in silence and my 
wife went to bed as soon as she got home. I half-heartedly took care of 
Dream, my brain working overtime, trying to process this latest trauma.

I called in from work, saying that we needed to be at home and our boss 
understood. I tried to get my wife to talk to me, to say something, but for 
the first half of the morning she merely avoided me, avoided speaking. When 
she finally spoke, it almost made me wish I hadn't urged her to speak. 
Sometimes the thought of "sharing our feelings" makes me want to curl up in 
a ball and hide.

"Look, Dana, I know this is hard. We have every right to be angry, to be 
upset, to want to cry or stop living or whatever. But we need to take into 
consideration our daughter. And we need to make a decision. I need to know 
what's on your mind."

"But I don't know what's on my mind. I mean, I do but I have too many 
thoughts going at once. I'm scared, I'm mad, I'm sad. I can't even begin 
to think about what's going to happen in the future. I've always been 
firmly against abortion. This isn't an "it" inside me, it's a child, a 
baby. First I was worried about bad timing? Now I'm concerned about 
abnormalities! I don't think I can handle this Mulder. I just... don't 
think I can," That broke her and she slumped to the floor sobbing. Dream 
identified with her mother and started crying in harmony. I wrapped my arms 
around her and Dream, the three of us in tears and we rocked ourselves, 
trying to fight the despair and wondering what would happen.


Author's Note: This little piece took a bit of struggling on my part. I 
knew what I wanted to happen and I wanted a little fluffy happy piece first, 
which explains Awe. Sorry that this is kinda tragic but... I have a plan in 
mind. Feedback, please?

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

Title: Beloved

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have 
children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between 
then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although 
it is quite obvious what happened. If you are interested in reading the 
others in the series, please e-mail me and let me know.

Summary: A lot has changed...

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.



Beloved


"See Gen, this is where baby David sleeps. He was really sick when we first 
got him, not like you, and he didn't stay with us long. And do ya see that 
big sign? It says... Daddy? What does it say again?" Six-year-old Dream 
turned to look at me standing from a few steps back.

"Do you remember what I told you, hun? The name David means "beloved". So 
the sign says "Beloved - we love you".

"Oh, yeah, I knew that. That's what it says Gen. Because we love David, 
even though we can't see him anymore," Dream said matter-of-factly. Then, 
leaning over into the baby carriage, she placed a kiss on the cheek of her 
four-month-old baby sister. Baby Genesis giggled in response, waving around 
her little arms and legs.

"Daddy, can we buy flowers for mom?" Dream looked up eagerly, her bright 
blue eyes hopeful.

"I think that's a good idea hun. Let's go!"

"Daisies, okay dad?"

"Of course."

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

"Mom, mom, mom -- look what we got you!" Dream could hardly contain her 
excitement and ran screaming around the apartment, looking for her mother. 
She held the daisies clumsily in her hand, a few petals falling off as she 
waved them around.

I found my wife in the study, complimenting her eldest daughter on the 
choice of flowers she had picked out. I lifted the sleeping Genesis out of 
the carriage and sat down with her on a nearby chair. The most beautiful 
sight in the world, I had always thought, was that of a sleeping baby. The 
way my daughter's eyelids fluttered, her eyes moving ever so slightly during 
her dreams. The wisps of dark brown hair that covered her head. Her little 
fists, gripping so tightly around my giant fingers.

"Mulder?"

I looked up to the sound of my wife calling his name. She looked tired, 
probably had been working too hard.

"Will you get the kids sorted out? I need to lie down for a bit."

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

"Hon, can I hold you for a while?" I called out to my wife who was busy in 
the other room, working, as usual.

She wordlessly moved over to the couch I was lying on and joined me. She 
stretched out against me and let me put my arms around her. We snuggled 
like we used to when we were younger. We held each other for a long while, 
letting the silence comfort us.

"The kids should be sleeping by now," I thought aloud, breaking the silence. 
 "Do you want to talk?"

"About what?"

"I'm not sure. It's probably nothing. You just seem to be wearing yourself 
out again and..."

Scully cut me off. "I'm fine. There's a new case that they need my help on 
and the killer just seems to be gaining confidence, won't back off. I guess 
I'm just putting a lot of effort into it."

I didn't say anything. I just took himself back a couple of years, to when 
disaster struck.

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

Dream had been close to her third birthday. Scully had been pregnant and 
there was something wrong with their unborn child.

Things hadn't been going right to begin with. Our darling daughter had been 
stuck in the terrible two phase and it was wearing out both of us. 
Everything was "no" or "I can do it myself". Another child was the last 
thing on our mind.

Then there had been the doctor's telling us that our unborn baby was 
abnormal and that an abortion was our best course of action. How killing a 
child could ever be the best course of action, I never could understand.

It hadn't mattered in the end. Scully had miscarried. I'd never forget 
finding her lying in bed, the blood all over the sheets, and the scared look 
on her face. The drive to the hospital, the doctor telling me that "this was 
for the best" and "there was nothing they could do".

And then my wife's following withdrawal from everything. The cold look in 
her blue eyes as she looked at me. As if I was to blame for the death of 
her baby.

Our baby. David Jonah Mulder. We named our beautiful baby boy after 
prompting from Scully's mother. But we just agreed to what she said and 
tuned her out, trying to absorb every essence of our child before he had to 
be taken away.

His cold face tinged with blue was overlooked. The blood stained blankets 
that he was wrapped in was ignored. All we could see was his blue eyes and 
red hair. His heart wasn't functioning properly and had died. Had left us.

David -- Beloved.

Jonah -- Peace.

We didn't feel that peace for a long time. We buried him... and a part of 
Scully with him. She wasn't the same for a long time after that. Slept a 
lot more, played a lot less.

Dream was affected too. She didn't understand anything. Just that she had 
been told that she was getting a new baby brother and then suddenly she 
wasn't. And with that 'suddenly' came a lot more changes. Her mom didn't 
smile as much. Her dad was too busy for anything.

Soon Scully changed again, but not back to before. She couldn't ever go 
back to before. She became a workaholic. She came home for mere fractions 
at the day, living at the office every opportunity. She worked on cases 
that they were given, worked on extra cases, didn't stop and didn't try to 
remember. She buried the hurt under the paperwork, and she left her 
daughter behind too.

It was our boss that came to me, bringing the situation to reality. He 
forced us both to take a week long vacation, preventing us from even 
entering the office. The first few days we looked up case files online, 
ignored the problem and each other.

Until our three year old daughter reminded us. Scared us actually -- she hit 
her head against a table and had to get stiches. Six of them.

Being back in that same hospital, having another child in trouble, shook us 
up. We had to pay attention to our daughter, to our reality. And we had to 
face our past.

They took a trip to the grave to say goodbye. On the way we bought flowers 
from a store. Dream picked them out -- lilies. Lilies for purity and death. 
 We placed them next to the stone. Such a small grave. Too small for a 
body to rest. Graves should be larger, people shouldn't die at such a young 
age. It was too much -- I couldn't take anymore and fell to the ground 
crying.

My wife held stronger for longer. Until she read the stone. "Beloved -- we 
love you." Love. We loved him. And he had left us. She too sank to the 
floor sobbing. I held her in my arms and we held on to the one child we had 
left.

That was our wake up call and things changed. We took off some extra time 
from work and doted on Dream. We lived, we loved and we grew closer.

And with that came the peace that had left us.

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

"Honey, are you still with me?" My wife was pulling on my shirt, trying to 
find out why I had grown so quiet.

"Yup. Sorry, just thinking."

"About?"

"David," I said quietly. I was always afraid to bring him up, but at the 
same felt that it was necessary. He would not be forgotten -- I wouldn't 
allow it.

"My sweet boy. David Jonah. I wish..." Scully trailed off, caught up in 
memories.

"I know. I wish too. Things could have been different. But what about 
Gen?"

"Genesis..." Scully sighed.

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

It was a while before either of us wanted a child. To go through that pain 
again... It wasn't until Dream was five years old that Scully got pregnant. 
We were both scared to be honest and went to the doctor more than necessary 
to make sure that the baby was normal.

She was. She was perfect. Still is.

This birth was harder than the others. Our new baby girl was determined to 
do things her way. She waited until SHE was ready to come out... and she put 
up quite a struggle too. Our daughter was strong, self-sufficient and 
healthy. What more could we ask for?

Genesis Cara Mulder.

Genesis for beginning. Which she was -- a new beginning for all of us.

Cara -- Irish for friend, Italian for love. A new friend for Dream, for our 
family and someone we would love, we could love.

Genesis, Gen for short, was different from Dream in appearance. Green eyes 
and brown hair -- remind you of someone? Yeah, she's definitely a daddy's 
girl.

And we're inseparable already. I don't work, not really. I worked while 
Scully was on her maternity leave but now she's doing the work and I'm being 
a stay-at-home dad. Just for a while. I'll pick up a bit of work some time 
down the road. But for right now there's no place I'd rather be than with 
my daughter, watching her grow, teaching her and just loving her.

Dream gets along with her new baby sister. She was excited from the start 
and we couldn't pry her away from Gen's crib for the longest time. She 
would bring her books and "read" to her new sister and would talk to her 
every day about how her day went. Then there's the refrigerator -- covered 
with pictures that Dream drew of her and her sister. Every day there's a 
new one, we might have to hide some in her memory box. It's good to see 
them getting along.

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

"Things are good, aren't they?" I asked my wife, looking into those soulful 
eyes of hers.

She paused to think for a bit, then smiled. "Yeah. They're really good."

I squeezed onto her tighter. My two daughters are sleeping, safe and sound, 
and the woman I love is in my arms. Things are definitely good.

THE END

Author's note: I know, I cheated and jumped ahead 3 years... but I had 
written myself into a corner and needed to find a way out, so I apologize. I 
know it's been a while but it's been busy and only recently have I been 
inspired to write. Please... feedback... don't make me beg.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Title: Family

Author: Dream Cole

E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com

Archive: Just let me know.

Rating: PGish.

Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S

Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could
not have children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some
miracle between then and now. This is kind of a continuation of the
Dream Series, although it is quite obvious what happened. If you are
interested in reading the others in the series, please e-mail me and
let me know.

Summary: Becoming a family happens when you least expect it.

Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't.

Quick note: This is a continuation from Awe and Despair and the rest
of the fanfic in the series so if you haven't read those yet you might
want to go read them. You'll probably get the picture of what's going
on, but just in case... :-)




Family


"Dream, *please* don't move around so much... you're going to muss up
your dress." I had earlier watched my wife struggle to calm our oldest
daughter down, who had been busy spinning around in circles, watching
the way the bottom of her white dress puffed out as she twirled. I
had peeked a glance at the child in my arms, also dressed in a white
dress, wide awake but keeping quiet and simply glancing around the
room with large eyes, trying to absorb everything.

This was probably the best and worst idea we've ever had: family
portrait time. When I was little, before my sister was... gone... we
took some professional pictures, as did Scully's family. Anyway, we
wanted to have pictures taken, and we decided to have them done now. 
It had seemed like a good idea.

The photographer had decided that the pictures would look more
dramatic, more elegant, if they were in all white. Which meant that
we had to be in all white. Females in white dresses; males in white
pants and white shirts.
 Which meant we had to go shopping... boy, was *that* an adventure.

Also, the color white is basically not conducive to... anything. 
Dream hasn't been allowed to drink, eat, color or even move. 
Six-year-olds just don't have the tolerance for that much sitting.

Gen, on the other hand, didn't seem to have as much of a problem. 
But she'd always been very quiet and still...not really a fussy baby,
come to think of it. Not as though Dream has been a horrible infant,
but Gen was different somehow. She hardly cried and seemed content to
just explore the world. She would sit quietly and play happily with
one toy, fascinated with it, trying to learn everything about it until
we took it away from her. And even then, she wouldn't put up a fuss
and scream about it-- she would accept it and look for something else
to interest her.

"Dream, please just sit down. Stop twirling, stop moving, just sit," 
Dream's frustrated mother had properly chastised her, and the child
plopped to the floor, staring wide-eyed at me as if to find out what
she did wrong.

I had watched my wife race around the apartment, gathering baby things
for Gen, extra white clothes, just in case, and assorted other things
that she just shoved in a bag. Coming back over to us, she had looked
at her daughter and sighed. "Dream, would you please stand up? You're
going to wrinkle your dress."

Poor Dream, she had looked so frustrated. I had winked at her, and
she came over to stand by the door with me. The sooner we could get
this over with, the better.

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

"Okay, could you just turn your head a little to the left? Yeah,
that's good... wait, wait, that's too much. Okay, that's perfect. 
Don't move, don't blink, don't even breathe..." The shutter went
*click* and the flash went off.
 "Perfect, folks. This is looking great."

Who would have thought taking photos could be this much work,
especially with two kids? I guess it does seem complicated, but I
thought they could just make us sit there, smile and we'd be gone
within an hour. Three hours later we're still posing for different
pictures. Mom and baby. Mom and both girls. Mom and Dad. Dad and
eldest daughter. How many different combinations of us did they need?

"Okay, just one more and then we'll be just about finished," he
plucked Gen from her mother's arms and placed her in the little
bassinet they had for her, decorated in white sheets. Then, they put
Dream on a stool so that she was looking down at her little sister. 
This seemed like a complicated picture, how was he going to get them
both to pose perfectly?

Gen waved her little arms around, giggling slightly at the sight of
her big sister. Then, she reached out to Dream, her eyes full of awe
and her smile growing bigger. At the same time, Dream, leaning over
the bassinet, smiled sweetly at her little sister and reached out to
stroke the soft downy hair on Gen's head. A flash and a click and the
picture was taken. Perfect.

"I'd say that's a wrap. Thanks for coming. I'll call you when the
proofs are in, and you can come take a look, okay?" The photographer
led us to the door and we went home, where we could change and run
around and spill things without Scully having a heart attack.

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

"Oh Mulder, what do you think?"

I wandered over to where my wife was sitting in the living room with
the book of the proofs of the photographs we had taken. She slowly
turned the page and we stared at the perfect images of us in various
poses.

"How will we decide what to get?" I asked. Every photo looked
perfect. There was one of my wife and the girls, smiling sweetly at
the camera. And there was the one with me holding Gen, her green eyes
staring into my green eyes, a slight smile on both of our faces. 
Then there was the one with the two children reaching out to each
other, and the one of all of us, close together with peaceful
expressions on our face.

"Wow hon, we look..." my wife trailed off, unable to find a word
appropriate enough to describe how we look.

I looked some more at the picture of the four of us all together. I
didn't know what it was, but it looked good. Familiar, comforting,
inviting.

"We look like a family," I realized. Scully looked up at me, and we
shared a smile. We had become a family.

THE END


Author's Notes: This story popped into my head last night but for some
reason was hard to get out and I'm still not pleased with. Thanks to
my beta Dark Ravenette for encouraging me and taking on this work and
making it better. Feedback is always welcome... I'm kinda wondering
if anyone is even reading these stories or if I should just stop.
*~*