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Title: Six Weeks Summary: Mulder and Scully's life together in the six weeks after William's birth. Told in alternating first person POVs. Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Andrea, for beta-reading and for letting me "borrow" one of her ideas for a section of this story. Week One I continue to kiss Scully, while holding our son in my arms. This is, without a doubt, the single best moment of my entire existence. But then it gets even better when she moves her hands down to my ass and makes a little growling noise in the back of her throat. When we come up for air, she murmurs, "I love you, Mulder. I'm sorry I ever had any doubts that our love created the baby within me." "Shh!" I murmur. "None of that now. No more regrets. We're here, all three of us, healthy and together. What more could we want?" "You lost the X-Files, Mulder. Your life's work." "My life was about work for too damned long, sweetheart. Now it's about you and our baby." "You really don't mind?" she asks, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. "No," I assure her. "I'll help Doggett occasionally if he wants me to, but only if he asks for my assistance." "You're not only off the X-Files, Mulder, you're out of the bureau. What will you do?" "I've got some ideas," I reply. "But they're all subject to your approval. Do you remember last New Year's Eve?" "You mean when we kissed for the first time?" she asks with a smile. "The kiss was the highlight of the evening," I assure her, "but what I'm actually talking about is meeting Frank Black. He made me an open-ended offer to join him as a consultant, working as a profiler-for-hire, if and when I ever left the F.B.I." "Is that what you want to do?" "I think so, yeah. I could do it either full-time or part-time. That's for you to choose. I kind of feel. . .that it's probably not a good idea for both of us to work full-time while William's an infant. It's not as if we need the money, because I've still got a lot of investments and stuff from my inheritance from my father. So I can work part-time, mostly by telecommuting while watching William, if you want. Or I'll work full-time, allow you to spend more time at home with the baby. It really doesn't matter to me, Scully." "Can I think about it?" "Of course." William begins to fuss at that moment. "What does he need?" I ask Scully. "Probably to have his diaper changed and be fed," she murmurs. "Why don't you watch me change him, so you'll know how to do it?" After he's changed, Scully sits down on the bed and pops her bra open, then slides her nipple into William's mouth. He latches on and begins to gulp greedily. I put my hand on her thigh and ask the question that is suddenly burning in my brain. "Scully, did your doctor say how long we have to wait until we can, um. . .?" "Make love again?" she asks, apparently understanding where I'm headed with this. "I have a check-up scheduled on William's six-week-birthday; he said not to have intercourse prior to then. I'm sorry, Mulder." "It's okay, Scully. I waited six *years* the first time around; I think I can handle six weeks." "If wonder if" we both say at the same time, then stop to laugh. "You first," I say. "Well, you offered to stay here with me for a few days after William was born, but I was wondering if you'd just like to move in on a permanent basis. I mean, we love each other and we have a child together; it seems silly for us to keep on maintaining two separate apartments." "I'd like to go ahead and start staying here, beginning tonight. But the three of us living together in this apartment for the rest of our lives isn't really what I want on a permanent basis." "What, then?" she asks, looking a little lost. "I seem to remember," I whisper, moving in to drop a kiss on her forehead, "somebody once mentioning wanting to get married," another kiss, this time on her ear, "buy a house" a kiss on her temple, "get a dog", a kiss to her cheek, "and have a baby." I finish up with a quick, soft kiss to her lips. "Mulder, did you just ask me to marry you?" she murmurs. "I asked you to marry me three years ago, when you were in Maine and I was back here dying of loneliness," I point out. "Cell phone proposals don't count." "Will you marry me, Scully?" "Yes," she murmurs, dropping a kiss on my forehead, "I will." The we kiss again, once more with William between our bodies. Week Two Mulder has been living with me for the past week, ever since William and I got home from the hospital. If he'd suggested this arrangement last year, I would have been leery to say the least. I would have thought living with Mulder might have been difficult. I was wrong. As I found out, in those awful months when I thought he was lost to me forever, it was living *without* Mulder that was hard. Living with him is wonderful. We're also officially engaged; Mulder bought me a beautiful sapphire ring surrounded by tiny diamonds. Father McCue dropped by with my mother yesterday and the four of us hatched out a plan to have get married and have William baptized all on the same evening, about a month from now. Normally the Catholic church insists on a mandatory engagement of at least four months between the decision to marry and the actual ceremony, but Father McCue said he thought that - due to the fact that we've been partners for eight years, in one sense or another, and already have a child together - that he could get the bishop to waive that requirement. Strangely enough, neither Mom nor the priest inquired about our current living arrangements. Maybe they're just happy we *are* going to get married, even if it will be with our six-week-old son in attendance. Maybe they figure there's no point in closing the barn door after the horse has already escaped. Maybe my mother, who gave birth four times herself, realizes that there is no possiblity of anything sexual going on right now anyway. When I excused myself to go nurse the baby, my mother came in with me to talk about the ceremony. Returning to the living room, we found Mulder and Father McCue deep in conversation. I think Mulder may be about to embrace Catholic Christianity with the same fervor that he once embraced conspiracy theories and the search for extra-terrestrial intelligence. Well, he's always wanted to find the truth. Mostly I'm busy with the baby or trying to grab a few hours of sleep. But Mulder has been handling most of the cooking and housework and all of the errand-running, so I'm not too exhausted. When we're both home and awake, we talk. About William, of course, but about other things, too. We've got eight years of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings to clear up. Now, as William begins to make the snuffling sound that I've already learned to recognize as the prelude to a full blown feed-me-I'm-hungry wail, I ease myself out from under Mulder's arm and go to the bathroom. The toilet seat's up. I know that this is the kind of thing a woman is *supposed* to have a fit over, but I simply put it down and do my business. I grew up with two brothers, for heaven's sake; it wasn't 'til my first year in an all-female college dorm that I realized most women expected to go into a bathroom and find the seat down. William is making a bit more noise when I return. "Shh!" I whisper. "Don't wake Daddy." I quickly change his diaper, murmuring to him all the while, then bring him back to bed and lay down with him between me and Mulder. I nurse and doze, then blink myself awake enough to burp him switch him to the other breast. My back is now to Mulder and he pulls me close instinctively. . .right up against an enormous hard-on. "Scully," he murmurs, sounding at least half asleep. "Mmm?" I ask, not wanting to ignore him if he expects an answer, but not wanting to wake him if he's just talking in his sleep. "I love you." "I love you, too. And you, William," I add to our beloved baby boy. "Huh?" Mulder sounds confused, but more awake. "Oh. I was dreaming. Is he doing okay?" "He's fine, Mulder. What were you dreaming about?" "Um. . ." I wiggle my bottom against him a bit. "I *am* a trained investigator, Mulder. I presume this is a clue to the content of your dream?" "Yeah," he whispers, dropping a kiss on my ear. "Do you remember the details?" "We were in the car, on a stakeout. But we got bored, you started taking off your clothes. . .we were in the backseat when I woke up. I'm sorry, Scully." "For what?" I ask, perplexed. "I don't want you to think that's all I ever think about; that it's the only aspect of our relationship I'm interested in." "I know it's not, Mulder. Actually, I think it's sort of sweet that you're having sexy dreams about me. A lot of men suffer a loss of sexual desire for a while after a woman's given birth. Let's face it, I have leaky breasts, most days I get up at five a.m. but don't get a chance to take a shower 'til after noon, and I've spent the better part of the past two weeks wearing a bathrobe with baby spit-up on the shoulder; it's not exactly an image most men would find alluring." "Scully, I've loved you for years but these past couple of weeks. . .watching the total love and devotion you give to William. . .I wouldn't have imagined it was possible for me to fall more deeply in love with you, but I have." "That's sweet, Mulder," I reply and snuggle down between my two "fellows" - one incredibly tiny, the other incredibly big, both the loves of my life. Week Three Scully, William and I have actually been getting out these past few days. Not for long periods of time, or to crowded places, but the weather's been nice so we've taken him for a few short walks and last night we went over to Maggie's house for dinner. We even got daring and made a quick trip to the grocery store this morning. She's nursing William and I'm putting the last of the groceries away when the phone rings. "I'll get it," I holler out. Probably another aunt or cousin of hers wanting to drop by with a baby gift. I know Catholics have large families, and I was even vaguely aware that Maggie grew up in Baltimore and has lots of siblings, nieces and nephews in this area, but I wasn't really prepared for the sheer number of Scully relatives who have been crawling out of the woodwork since William was born. Instead the call is one that even I, with over a decade's experience in expecting the unexpected, would never have guessed might be coming. After several minutes of conversation, I end it with "I'll get back to you later today," and hang up. "Who was that?" Scully asks as I walk into the bedroom. "The Deputy Director in charge of Quantico," I reply. "They had an unfortunate experience this morning; an instructor dropped dead of a heart attack, literally while in the middle of giving a lecture at the Academy. They're two weeks away from graduation and in desperate need of someone who can teach the class two days a week for that time period." "Mulder, I'm not ready to go back to work," Scully states emphatically. "Skinner promised me a full two months after the birth, in addition to the time I took off during the last trimester of my pregnancy." "They don't want you, Scully," I say with a small smile. "They want me. It's a criminal psychology class for students who've shown an interest or aptitude in profiling. I pointed out that I'm no longer an active agent, but he didn't seem to think that would be a problem; it will just mean I get paid as a visiting lecturer - which is more money, because it doesn't come with benefits - and he doesn't have to deal with the red tape and hassle of arranging a temporary transfer of an agent from another division to Quantico." "Do you want to do it?" I'm silent for a moment, then answer honestly, "I'm torn, Scully. You know that one of the things I've always tried to do, throughout my career, is open up people to new ways of thinking, new ways of looking at the evidence. Working as an instructor might be a way to do that; a way to make sure that the next generation of F.B.I. agents doesn't consist solely of guys like Kersh and Colton. On the other hand, I'm really enjoying spending all this time with you and William; I don't want to fall back into my old, bad habits of putting my work ahead of more important things in life." "How many hours a week would it be?" "I'd only be out at Quantico from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m .on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But when you factor in class prep time, grading papers and stuff like that, I'd probably be working about 20 hours a week. It's up to you, Scully. I spent eight years of our lives dragging you around the country to hunt for aliens, mutants and monsters, ignoring your repeated requests that we live a normal life. I think it's time - long past time, really - for you to have a chance to call the shots." "I think you should do it, Mulder." That evening, after we've eaten and I've cleaned up the kitchen and she's fed William, Scully beckons me to sit next to her on the couch. "Why don't you go make us some popcorn, get a beer for yourself and a glass of orange juice for me," she suggests, "we're going to watch a movie." "Okay," I agree, mildly surprised. Watching videos together is certainly a normal "couple" activity - and one of the few that's easy for parents of a newborn baby to accomplish - but Scully has mostly only wanted to sleep or talk during the brief hours we haven't been busy with William. When I return with our snack and drinks, Scully cuddles up to me and flicks the remote. I watch as the opening credits to 'Steel Magnolias' comes on the screen. "Remember," she murmurs, "you told me that next time we had a movie night, I got to choose the feature presentation. You didn't think I was going to let you weasel out of it just due to little things like alien abduction, birth, death and resurrection, did you?" I chuckle and snuggle her closer. We're not more than ten minutes into the movie before we've assumed our favorite TV watching position; me flat on my back with Scully lying atop me, both our faces turned toward the screen. Well, mostly they're turned to the screen. Scully keeps crawling up and kissing me every few minutes. Within less than an hour, she's asleep, with my hand molded to the curve of her ass. So I mute the volume and lay there, in the darkened living room, listening to her breathing and that of our son in the other room, and think about how happy I am. Week Four Mulder's at Quantico and William is asleep. The phone's not ringing, the answering machine light's not blinking and no one is knocking on the door. For the first time in a month, I have a moment to call my own. I decide to skip my usual mid-afternoon shower in favor of a leisurely bubble bath. I've been in for only a few minutes when I hear the door to our apartment open and Mulder call out softly, "Hey, honey! I'm home." "In here, Mr. Petrie," I call out, giving the name the pronunciation we used when were undercover in Arcadia. Mulder chuckles and follows the sound of my voice to the bathroom. "Wow," he says, "do you want me to wash your back?" "I'd like that," I agree. As he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, I add, "I think it would be easier if you just joined me in the tub." Mulder's eyes grow dark as he asks, "Really?" "Well, I don't want to come across as a tease, Mulder. We still can't. . .do anything. But I'd like to have you in here with me." The words are barely out of my mouth before Mulder is tearing off his clothes and sliding in behind me. "That's nice," I murmur as his big, soapy hands glide across my back. "But I wish this tub was bigger. Remember that great big bathtub in the hotel in California?" "Mmm, yeah," he replies. "I know we won't be able to take a honeymoon right after we get married, since you'll still be nursing William. But after he's weaned, I'd like to see if maybe your mother would be willing to watch him for a few days, so we could take a little trip together; maybe for our first anniversary. We'll be sure to book the honeymoon suite and those usually have oversized tubs." "We're not going to take a honeymoon 'til our first anniversary?" I inquire, amused. "Come on, Scully," he points out. "We never do things in logical sequence. We took a shower together months before we first kissed and we're getting married several weeks after our son's birth." "That's true enough," I have to admit. "I've missed this," Mulder says with a sigh, wrapping his arms around me as I settle down in his lap, my bottom on his thighs and my back against his chest. "Not so much sex, per se, but just being naked with you. It feels so good to hold you without any barriers - physical or emotional - between us." "Mmm," I agree, but just at that moment William begins to fuss. "Let me help you out of the tub," Mulder says, standing up and wrapping a towel around his waist. "Then I'll go change him while you get dried off." I nod, letting my eyes linger on his long legs and broad chest with its sprinkling of hair, then allow him to assist me out of the tub while he calls out, "Just a minute, son. Daddy's coming." '** Week Five Things have settled into something like a routine around here. William slept about six hours straight from approximately 11 p.m. to five the next morning for the past two nights, so Scully and I are no longer stumbling around like zombies. He also takes mid-morning, mid-afternoon and evening naps and is in his best, most playful moods early in the morning and late in the afternoon. I go out to the Academy on Tuesdays and Thursdays and do paperwork connected with the class on Monday and Wednesday afternoons while William and Scully nap. Mornings when I'm not at work, we take William out for walks or run errands. Fridays are for laundry and housecleaning. Evenings and weekends, we relax together. My daily early morning jog - once a sacred routine with me - has dwindled to four or five times a week, at whatever time of day it can be fit in. Today's Saturday and and the guys have invited Scully, William and me over to their place for lunch. It's around 10 a.m. and I've finally slipped out of the house for brief run through the park. I notice another father jogging with a baby in one of those racing strollers. Wonder if Scully would be okay with me taking William along with me some mornings, once he gets a bit older? When I return home, I find William asleep in his crib and Scully doing. . .something. . .on the floor. "What in the world are you doing?" I ask, faintly alarmed. She smiles up at me. "Oh, hi, Mulder. I didn't hear you come in. These are exercises - sort of a modified type of yoga - designed especially for women who have just given birth. My doctor said I could begin doing them once William was a month old. I started Thursday, when you were at work, and did them yesterday while you went to the bank and the dry cleaners." I nod and strip off my sweaty T-shirt. Then I take off my shoes and socks and toss both shirt and socks into the hamper. I really should go take a shower, but I'm mesmerized by the site of Scully doing stretches and leg lifts. She's only wearing a T-shirt and panties; with every movement, the shirt rides up and I get a tantalizing peek of her ass. I don't know how long I've been standing there, staring at her, when she finally focuses in on me and smiles. "Wow, Mulder," she says softly. "I've heard that a lot of men, once they're nearing forty, need more than just visual stimulation to get an erection. Looks like you're not one of them." I notice then that Scully is looking at me with almost a feral gleam in her eyes. I never would have thought that someone as into neatness and order as Scully is would be turned on by a sweaty, shirtless man, but I learned last summer that she often is. . . at least when the man is me. It takes me a moment to realize what she's talking about, but that's probably due to the fact that most of my blood is now circulating a lot lower in my anatomy than my brain. I'm so hard it's possible my shorts are going to burst from the pressure. Rather than getting up off the floor, Scully rises to her knees and hooks her fingers in the side of my shorts and my boxer-briefs, drawing them down. Then she lowers her mouth to my throbbing cock. Oh, God! I feel like I just wandered into one of those videos that aren't mine and I don't watch any more. I come in from jogging, expecting no more in the way of greeting than a sweet smile and maybe a quick kiss, and find myself getting a blow job from the most gorgeous woman in the world. If the activity alone wasn't enough of a turn-on, there's also the fact that she's kneeling in front of me. Scully's done this to me a couple of times before, in the brief months between when we finally consummated our relationship and when the aliens abducted me, but then it was always when were in bed together and she was just sort of lying next to me at an angle. As a psychologist, I'm sure there must be something faintly kinky about the idea that her being on her knees makes it even more intensely pleasurable than otherwise, but I'm too busy to stop and analyze the situation. Scully's slid her hands up to my ass to brace herself and continues to suck on me, her cheeks beginning to hollow with the effort. I'm getting close and retain just enough brain function to mumble, "Stop, Scully!" Her eyes go wide and she looks up at me, my cock still in her mouth, like a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She slowly releases me and asks, "Am I doing something wrong?" "No, baby," I pant out. "You're doing it exactly right. That's the problem. Last summer, when we first became lovers, you said you enjoyed oral sex as a form of foreplay, but not as a substitute for intercourse. I'd never want to push you into doing something you don't want to do, and I know we can't have intercourse 'til next week. So you need to stop and either I'll go take a cold shower or you can finish up with your hand, if you're comfortable with that idea." She smiles at me sweet and sexy and loving, all at the same time. "Mulder, it means a lot to me that you'd be willing to stop at this. . .advanced point rather than push me further than I want to go. But I want to do this for you." She then licks her lips and lowers her mouth to my cock again. I come in about ten seconds flat, moaning her name out softly. Although I thought I'd been quiet, William starts to fuss at this point. "I'll change his diaper, if you want to go rinse out your mouth," I say, touching her brilliant hair gently. A few minutes later, when Scully is nursing William, I ask quietly, "Do you need me to. . .do anything for you?" "What do you mean, Mulder?" she inquires, looking faintly puzzled. I feel the tiniest bit embarrassed bringing this up, but I'd feel worse if I behaved selfishly. "Well, I realize we can't have intercourse. But if you'd like me to do for you what you just did for me. . .or if you'd like me to use my hand. . .I'd be happy to Scully." She smiles softly at me. "I appreciate the offer, Mulder, but I'm not quite ready to be touched there yet. Just go take your shower, so you can take care of William while I take mine, and we can get over to the guys' place on time." I nod and head off to the bathroom, whistling. Week Six It's my wedding day. From the time I was a little girl, I've dreamed of this day, although there was a period of years when I never believed it would happen for me. Of course, it's a bit different from the way I envisioned it. I never thought I'd be carrying my infant son, instead of a bouquet of flowers, in my arms as I walked down the aisle. And many of the people I would love to have here with me on this day, like my father and sister, aren't physically present...but I can sense they're here in spirit; Fox's family, too. Other people I love *are* here, though. My mother. My brothers. My sister-in-law and niece and nephew. The Lone Gunmen. Skinner, who is the closest thing either Mulder or I have to a father anymore. And William, of course. The most important element, however, is the man waiting for me at the altar. For the past eight years, I've known that if I ever married, it would be to my sexy, irritating, smart-alecky, tenderhearted partner; Fox William Mulder, who is also the father of my son. The ceremony is brief but beautiful. Mom and Skinner serve as our Matron of Honor and Best Man. Immediately after the wedding, we have William's baptism, with Bill and Tara serving as his godparents. Afterwards, we go over to Mom's house. Mulder had suggested we have the wedding/baptismal dinner in a restaurant, to spare her the trouble, but she insisted. Maybe it's for the best; in addition to William, the party also includes three-year-old Matthew and his 14-month-old sister Kara. So we eat the delicious entree she slow-cooked, along with the array of breads and salads she made ahead of time. The highlight, however, comes with dessert. She didn't prepare a traditional wedding cake, but made a sheet cake with the words "Congratulations Dana, Fox and William" on it. Later, after the Gunmen and Skinner have left and Tara's trying to get her two ready for bed, and Mulder is watching a sporting event in the living room with my brothers, I take William into my mother's bedroom to nurse him. She comes in to talk to me privately for a few minutes. "Is there anything you'd like to ask me, Dana?" she inquires. I laugh softly. "Mom, I think it's a little too late for a birds-and-the-bees discussion! I'm a mother and a doctor." Mom smiles and says, "You're also a mother who went to the doctor today. Unless things have changed radically in the past 30 years or so, that means tonight will be the first time you'll be able to make love with Fox since giving birth. Sometimes that can be a bit of an...adjustment." "We'll be fine, Mom," I assure her. Once we arrive home, Mulder and I settle William down in his crib at the far corner of our bedroom, then sit down on the bed and turn to face each other. "Will I sound like a complete idiot if I say I'm kind of nervous?" he asks. I shake my head and smile. "No. Same here. I feel like I ought to duck into the bathroom and emerge wearing a frilly black nightie or something. But I really think I'd rather have you undress me." Mulder complies, going exquisitely slowly, stopping to touch and kiss each newly exposed section of skin almost reverently. When I'm completely naked, I set to work on him, treating his beautiful body to the same care he gave mine. Mulder rolls me onto my back and kneels above me, kissing me deeply. Then he moves his mouth to my neck and nips softly. I moan quietly as he moves further down. "You have beautiful breasts, Scully. But I know that William gives them quite a workout, so I won't focus too much attention on them tonight. Besides," he glances up and flashes me a wicked a grin, "I've got a feeling my mouth can be put to better use in other places." Mulder continues to kiss down my stomach; when he reaches the top edge of my auburn curls, he lifts one of my legs and begins to kiss up the inside of thigh. Finally, after giving equal attention to both legs, he dips his tongue slowly into me. He licks and laps slowly at me for a long time, humming his approval while I moan mine. "Mulder," I whisper, "please. I'm ready." He moves up to kiss me on the mouth again, then gazes deeply into my eyes and whispers, "I love you." "I love you, too." Mulder eases in slowly, giving me as much time as I need to adjust. Then he begins moving, sliding almost all the way out, then gliding back in. In the past, it's usually been difficult for me to climax in the missionary position, but something is different tonight. Maybe it's a biological change, brought on by having given birth. Maybe it's a psychological change, brought on by the knowledge that he's my husband now. Whatever it is, when he looks into my eyes and smiles, I climax around him. My orgasm isn't so much intense as endless, undulating through my body in wave after wave of pleasure. When I'm done, Mulder begins moving a bit quicker, his breath coming in uneven pants. I gaze with joy at his passion-drenched features and watch as he whispers my name and floods my body. A few minutes later, listening to Mulder breathe next to me and William's gentle snuffling from across the room, I feel a sense of completion. The End Author's e-mail addy: tapw63@hotmail.com
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