"A Kaleidoscopic Christening" by. J.Hallmark Summary: Mulder and Scully celebrate in the wake of her cancer remission. Keywords: MSR/MSsex, Story Spoilers: Memento Mori, Redux 2 Time Frame: Takes place between "Redux 2" and "Detour" Rating: A light R for sexual situations Disclaimer: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong to the brilliant mind of Chris Carter and I'm just borrowing them so as to put some joy into their lives that Chris seems intent on denying them. Dedications: To Carrie, my Ronin-Beta Reader, who always has the right words to make the story better and the push to keep me at it till it's done. And to Rhoni, who catches XF stuff, even I miss and helps me add that extra touch of realism to the tale. Archive : Anywhere you want as long as I get credit :) Comments? Questions? Love Notes? Flames of 6th Degree Burns? Insane Musings on Cancer Man? Send 'em here - arabian@ite.net ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A Kaleidoscopic Christening" Whatever the microchip held...Whatever God Dana Scully believed in...Whatever medical miracle had taken place, her cancer was in remission and for the first time in a long time, she felt as if she were fully alive. She was home. No shroud of sadness sauntered within the shadows. Gloom and doom had bid goodbye and the sun filtered through the windows. Rays of gold beamed upon the furniture, the carpet. Prisms of light cast their rainbow upon her face as she stepped in through the front door. She was home. She stood a few minutes inside the apartment, breathing deeply. Her eyes were closed and there was a contentment she had never known, or perhaps never recognized, filling her entire being and it was reflected upon her face. Fox Mulder stood behind her, his tall, lanky form filling the doorway. He stood silently, watching her, reveling in the peace and the joy emanating from her. The weight and the shadow of guilt and self-anguish no longer surrounded him. How much of her pain and suffering he was indirectly responsible for, he didn't know. She didn't blame him, however much she should. It wasn't necessary. He blamed himself more than enough for the both of them. But now she was fine; she was healthy for the moment and he would thank whatever or whoever was responsible. He would not drag her down with misery, with his own self-recriminations. They had both experienced too much to look back. Scully opened her eyes and looked about the room. She smiled, turning to Mulder, her smile widened. "Come inside." He stepped in and shut the door behind him as she let out a laugh of pure delight, her gaze still focused on him. "It's a cliché, I know, but --" She paused, looking down. "What?" He looked down at her, his own lips curving in a smile. "I feel like I have a new lease on life." "You do," he replied simply, a deep feeling of satisfaction rumbling through his voice. Scully looked back up at him, her smile less radiant, but softer, warmer. He grinned back, clasping his hands, he rubbed them together quickly. "So what do you want to do?" he asked. Scully pursed her lips together slightly, a ruminative gleam in her eyes. "How 'bout some coffee?" Mulder laughed lightly. "You, wild and crazy woman, you!" She grinned back at him and began to laugh. Louder and louder, her hands went to her face; her body bent over slightly. Mulder shook his head and joined her, but as her laughter grew more frenzied and tears began to stream down her face, his own laughter died. Her laughter had become gulping sobs; her giggles, hiccups. Mulder put out a hand, touching her shoulder, Scully fell into his arms, her entire body shaking with the effort and power of her tears. She clung to him as he wrapped his arms around her, his hands rubbing up and down her back, soothing the tousled strands of her burnished red hair. His lips pressed against the crown of her head, her forehead. Soft, shushing noises rained softly upon her. Her cries continued unabated as she let loose the frustration and the anguish, the fear and the sorrow that she had held within for too long, the feelings she had kept from him. She had spent the last year hiding these emotions from Mulder, retreating behind her standard "I'm fine," when he tried to get too close. When she was in the hospital, just days after she had found out about the brain tumor, even then she had restrained herself, instead putting her thoughts and feelings on paper. Thoughts and feelings that she had not shown him, even though she had written every word for him. She could not bear that Mulder know how much pain she was feeling, not only physically, but also emotionally and mentally. The knowledge of what understanding the full truth was would do to him always kept her silent. Her own suffering she could handle, but not his. But now that it was over, at least for the time being, she found herself releasing the barriers. She needed this. She needed him to know now that it was over, because only he could comfort her. As close as she was to her mother, to the rest of her family, as strong as her renewed faith in God was, no bond was stronger than the one she shared with this man. She rested her wet-stained cheek against his shirt, her tears subsiding now. She stood silently, leaning upon him a moment longer and then she pulled away. Her eyes were downcast. Mulder's arms dropped to his side and reaching out with one hand he gently raised her chin up so that their eyes were locked upon each other. He didn't know what he expected to see on her face, in her eyes, but it was not the serenity that was revealed there. "Scully, you okay now?" She nodded softly, her face falling away from his gentle grasp. "You needed that." It wasn't a question. She shook her head slightly. "No. Yes. I needed it for you." Mulder opened his mouth to say something and then understanding dawned in his eyes. He pulled her to him quickly, holding her tightly for a moment. Her arms wrapped around his back and neither one spoke. They did not need to. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Mulder loosened his hold on her. Pressing a kiss atop her head, he pulled away. She looked up at him, giving him a watery smile. "I'll make the coffee," she said softly. Nodding, he shrugged his coat off and hung it on the coat rack. Although he knew that he was being overprotective, he still looked towards the kitchen where she had headed; he knew that she really was fine, but he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight. She stood before the coffeemaker, carefully spooning out the required amount, placing the container holding the coffee and filter into its place, she pushed the brew button. Hearing him move behind her, she laughed lightly and took a step back, backing right into him. She hadn't realized that he was that close behind her. She turned to face him. "Mulder, you're hovering," she said softly, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Sorry," Mulder responded, laughing softly himself. His smile died and he looked at her seriously. "I guess a part of me is afraid that if I turn around, let you out of my sight ...." He trailed off, not wanting to say his next thought aloud. She did for him. "You think it will come back." It wasn't a question. He nodded. "It's not going to happen, Mulder. At least not just because you let me out of sight." Mulder closed his eyes briefly, her statement opening his mind to the possibilities of what could bring the cancer out of remission. He shook the thoughts from his mind and opened his eyes, giving her a half-hearted smile. He began to walk out of the kitchen, but he found himself stopping. He had to tell her, to let her know what she meant to him. "I was so afraid. And I only had one thought. Not the conspiracy or the Smoking Man. Not my father," he looked at her, his love for her shining in his eyes, the only pure thing he had never lost sight of, "not even Samantha. All I could do was hope and pray that we would find a cure. Nothing else mattered." She felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. She knew that he loved a pause in the air around them. Time seemed to stop. And then his lips descended once more, capturing the breath hovering between their mouths. They paused for a moment longer, the tension thickening about them. Their eyes were open, staring into one another, a rapturous communion shared between the two. Their lips met. Softness. Hesitation. Reticence. All were gone, once their lips met. An explosion of passion burst between them. Tongues exploring. Hands exploring. Fingers pressing, feeling, discovering the landscape of each other's bodies, as much as they could reach. A rushing sense of fulfillment bloomed between them. Certainty. Honesty. Inevitability. They pulled away, breathing heavily. Their eyes stared into one another's. He ran his finger along the side of her face, a slight smile gracing his lips. Her own curved in response. He reached out and captured her hand, their fingers curled about each others, entwining. He took a step back, still facing her, not wanting to lose sight of her. She ducked her head shyly for a moment and then moved ahead of him, leading him to the bedroom. There was no hesitation. They stood in the room for a moment, the sunset's golden and crimson rainbow pouring in over their bodies. Carefully they removed their clothing, one by one. First his tie, then his shirt, his slacks. He sat down on the bed and removed his shoes, his socks. She slipped out of her heels, her skirt, her blouse. Their eyes locked, then released, wandering over new exposed oceans and valleys of flesh. Yet there was no show, no display of temptation, enticement in their unveiling or in their viewing. They were simply undressing, two people expressing the glory the other felt at seeing the one they loved at last. It had been too long; too much had happened. They were down to basics. A man. A woman. The superficiality of desire, of lust, of playing the game of seduction was unnecessary. What they felt, what was going to happen, ran too deep. She didn't tell him that she loved him, nor did he tell her. He knew as did she. It was unspoken, unnecessary ... as known to them as breathing. He stood up as she sat down. Tugging at her sheer nylons, her gaze remained locked on his long fingers as he pulled his grey boxers down his lean thighs. She stared at the puddle of silk pooled at his feet. He stepped out of them and headed towards her. He knelt before her and helped to pull off the stockings. Her eyes lifted and met his own. She felt as if this were dream as did he. The sun melted outside their world, creating a kaleidoscope of colors to christen their love. Then he lay down upon her. Then their lips met. Then his heat entered her and she enfolded him in her arms. Their cries echoed in the room. Bliss. Joy. Belonging. An infusion of love and peace flooded through them, over them. The sun set it's final rays of glory as the two became one. At last. * * * When it was dark, when they had known one another, they spoke again. Words in place of cries and sighs of love and passion; words contemplating this choice. "What will happen now?" he asked, his fingers slowly circling the pale silk of her breast, his thumb gently rubbing the crest. She purred softly in his arms, her back arching slightly. She didn't answer. "Scully, what about the consequences. We can't go back. And they will find out, no matter how careful we are." She shook her head, turning towards him. She nuzzled against his chest, her face lifting, her nose sniffing the male scent of him. She leaned up, her lips, her tongue once again tasting the flavor of his skin; drinking in the heat, the perfection of his throat. "There will be no consequences," she murmured, her voice soft as a kitten's, as content as a child with a new toy. "What do you mean? Scully, something will happen." His voice was low and quiet. The importance of his words lacking fire as his attention was still captured by the puckering of her nipple, the softness of her breast, her reaction to his touch. She giggled. When he spoke, she could feel the vibration through her, his Adam's apple moving under her roving tongue. She wanted him to speak again but instead he waited for her to speak. She tendered one more kiss upon his throat, enjoying the slightly scratchy feel of the stubble just coming in. She pulled back and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "Mulder, there will be no consequences and nothing will happen that wouldn't have happened anyway because everyone thinks we're lovers already. They have used our love against each other so often before, they must have no doubt that what happened today has been going for months, if not years; if not from the very beginning." He looked thoughtful, reflecting. "You think," he paused. "Everyone?" She nodded. "But," he continued, "I know that we've been mistaken by people who don't know us, but your mom," again she nodded. "Your mom thinks we're lovers?" "I told her that we weren't and she said it was only a matter of time." He grinned, "and what did you say?" Her lips curved, "nothing, I just smiled." She reached up, slightly pulling her body up, to deliver a sweet kiss to his lips. His eyes closed, even after she pulled away, his eyes were closed, a look of peace and ecstasy intermingled on his features. Once again, she smiled. He opened his eyes, looking at her once more. "That's your mother. She knows you. But Skinner?" she nodded. "Other agents?" she nodded. "Others in the bureau?" she nodded a third time. "Smoking Man?" She laughed, not even a reminder of that man capable of bringing her down. "Mulder, yes. Everyone means everyone. This will effect no one but us. To everyone else, this is old news. Been there, done that." "Just us," he said, liking the word 'us.' "Just us," she repeated, agreeing with the sound. "Well," he whispered huskily with a sexy smile as he drew her up more firmly against him, "I suppose we ought to make up for lost time." "I suppose," she answered with a wicked, but happy, grin as his lips captured her own. She wrapped her arms around him, joy feeling her. She was home. THE END ---- Read this list on the Web at http://www.FindMail.com/list/fwmfic/ To unsubscribe, email to fwmfic-unsubscribe@makelist.com To subscribe, email to fwmfic-subscribe@makelist.com -- Start a FREE E-Mail List at http://makelist.com !