Title: Domesticity

Author: Diandra Hollman

E-Mail: diandrahollman@gmail.com

Website: http://diandrahollman.tripod.com/index.html

Date Finished: 5/25/2006; 1/24/07

Rating: NC-17. Sheesh, you don't know me at *all*, do you?

Keywords: Slash, Crossover, Mulder/Vaughn, MPreg

Spoilers: Yeah, right. Not.

Disclaimer: The X-Files belongs to Chris Carter and 1013, 
   Alias belongs to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot and obviously 
   these characters are not mine because none of those people 
   would let me do these things to them.

Archive: E-mail me and we'll talk about it.

Summary: "'I'm in labor,' Vaughn announced casually, as if it 
   were a passing conversation piece."

Dedication: Apologies to Michael Vartan for butchering a 
   character he has played so wonderfully for five...well, 
   four and a half years.

Author's Notes: Obviously I'm taking a few medical liberties 
   here. I tried to make it as believable as possible though. 
   I did take a course on human anatomy after all (although I 
   got a D in it, so...). ;)

   This story takes place in an alternate universe to my Detox 
   universe (I know, I've lost it). The overarching   
   relationship/plot progressed more or less as it did in 
   Intoxicated, Sobriety and Serenity. The main difference is 
   that in this universe Vaughn is a hermaphrodite. You don't 
   necessarily have to have read the Detox series to be able 
   to follow this story, but it doesn't hurt.

   For the purposes of this story, assume that at the 
   beginning Mulder is 38 years old and Vaughn is 30.


Domesticity
By Diandra Hollman

I woke to the sound of the toilet flushing in the master 
bathroom. I glanced around the room, reminding myself of where 
I was and who I was with. It had been several months since we 
had moved in together but I still hadn't quite gotten used to 
the new house.

Vaughn shuffled out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the 
bed with a weary sigh. 

"You okay," I asked.

"Your daughter won't let me sleep," he muttered tiredly. He 
slid toward me less than gracefully, his head resting on my 
shoulder, his leg slung over mine.

I wrapped my left arm around him, drawing him to me and rested 
my right hand on his swollen abdomen, feeling the tiny hands 
and feet beating on the other side of the taut skin. Early in 
our relationship Vaughn had revealed to me that he was a fully 
functioning hermaphrodite, but the words "fully functioning" 
hadn't taken on full meaning until eight months ago when he 
found out he was pregnant.

"How long has she been awake?"

"This time? About two hours," he grumbled, wincing as a 
particularly violent jab impacted my palm.

"Did you try taking a shower," I asked gently. Warm water 
usually lulled the baby back to sleep.

He nodded. "Tried the chair too. Didn't work." Once the 
nesting instinct had kicked in Vaughn and I had bought a 
plushy stain-resistant Lay-Z-Boy on the age-old assumption 
that rocking a baby will put it right to sleep. We hoped it 
would be more effective after the baby was born.

I sighed. "Okay. Turn over."

He was too worn out to question or protest and merely rolled 
over with a grunt. I helped him arrange a pillow between his 
knees and pressed up against his back, my right hand moving to 
rub soothing circles on his bulging stomach. "Try to relax."

He snorted sardonically. I ignored it and tapped against the 
taut skin. "That goes for you too, Princess. I know you're 
getting antsy but you have to let your mother get some rest."

"Mulder," he growled. A few days before I had referred to him 
as the child's Mommy and he had threatened to break my arm if 
I did it again. I ignored this too. I figured as long as I 
didn't start using feminine pronouns he wouldn't kill me.

"Like it or not, you're the one giving birth to this kid," I 
reasoned. "Technically, you are her mother." I ran my hand 
through the sparse hair on his chest. "It doesn't make you any 
less manly."

"I'm lactating," he grumbled.

"That's a good sign," I assured him. "It means you're both 
healthy and we won't need to buy as much formula."

He groaned. "You're a bastard, you know that?"

I smiled and kissed the soft, sensitive skin behind his ear. 
"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

I knew he was rolling his eyes, but he didn't say anything 
because we both knew he did. "Keep talking," he said after a 
moment. "I think your voice is calming her."

I snorted. "Great. She's not even out of the womb yet and I'm 
already putting her to sleep."

He swatted at my arm lightly. "She recognizes your voice. It's 
soothing."

I smiled, letting his sleep-mussed hair tease my lips, and 
began talking about anything and everything until our baby's 
restless movements eased and both she and Vaughn drifted back 
to sleep.

******

I felt only slightly more rested when I was jerked awake again 
hours later, this time by the ringing of the front door bell. 
Vaughn still slept more or less peacefully so I carefully 
detangled myself from him, threw on my robe and hurried to get 
the door before whoever it was woke him.

I was surprised to find Sydney Bristow standing on the front 
doorstep. 

"Hi," she said with a bright, albeit somewhat shy smile.

"Uh, hi," I replied, dazed. "What are you doing here? Is 
something wrong?"

"No," she said quickly, her tone apologetic. "Nothing's wrong, 
I just...I needed a vacation and I thought I'd surprise you. 
Is Vaughn home? Maybe I shouldn't have..."

It was probably the first time I'd seen Sydney act like less 
than her usual composed self. "No," I protested, pulling her 
into a brief hug. "You just surprised me. Come in," I stepped 
aside to let her in the house, locking the door again behind 
her. "Vaughn's still sleeping, but he'll probably be up soon. 
He has a bladder the size of a peanut lately. Would you like 
some coffee?"

*******

A half an hour later we were sitting at the kitchen table with 
large mugs of hot coffee. It turned out the CIA had 
practically forced her to take a week's vacation. But Sydney 
was not the kind of person who could sit still for long, so 
she had decided to use the chance to fly across the country to 
visit us and possibly help with any last minute baby 
preparations. 

We were talking about what still needed to be done around the 
house before the baby came (not much, thankfully) when a 
bleary-eyed Vaughn shuffled into the kitchen and blinked at 
Sydney in surprise. 

"Syd?"

She rose from the table and threw her arms around him 
wordlessly, kissing his cheek and hugging him as if she hadn't 
seen him in years. Well...months anyway. 

"Oh my god," she breathed, pulling back and taking in Vaughn's 
heavily pregnant form. "Look at you." She shook her head in 
disbelief. "You must be due any day now."

"A few weeks, actually," he said, still dazed by her sudden 
appearance.

"He could go into labor safely any minute now," I piped up. "I 
keep trying to tell him that it's not an exact science but he 
won't listen to me."

"I'm just not *ready* yet," Vaughn argued, as if the baby 
cared whether or not we were ready for her.

"Do you know what it is yet," Sydney asked, guiding Vaughn to 
the nearest chair and pushing him into it. 

"It's a girl," he said, groaning as the baby's restless 
movements made the muscles in his abdomen ripple visibly. 

Sydney rested her hand over the bulge with a soft smile. 
"Looks like she's really active already."

"She's killing me," Vaughn grumbled. "She won't let me sleep 
more than an hour at a time and she keeps using my bladder as 
a punching bag."

Sydney visibly suppressed a laugh and patted his stomach 
sympathetically. 

"What are you doing here," Vaughn asked as if just remembering 
that Sydney was supposed to be on the other side of the 
country. I got up to get Vaughn some of the herbal tea Scully 
had recommended he drink during his pregnancy as Sydney 
explained her forced leave again.

"How's Will," I heard him ask. 

"He's good. He didn't want to take time off yet so he's 
probably at the office doing paperwork right now."  

"He pop the question yet," I asked bluntly as I set Vaughn's 
tea down in front of him. Vaughn gave me a warning look but 
Sydney just chuckled. 

"No, we're not quite there yet," she admitted.

I sat back down and pulled Vaughn's feet into my lap, gently 
massaging his swollen ankles. He took a tentative sip of his 
tea and grimaced. 

"Do you have someplace to stay," he asked and I kicked myself 
for not thinking of that earlier.

She waved her hand politely and slipped into the chair next to 
him. "I was just going to get a hotel."

"You can stay here," I offered, knowing that was what Vaughn 
was thinking already.

"Oh, no, I couldn't..."

"Syd," Vaughn interrupted, stilling her fluttering hands with 
his own. "I know you didn't come all the way out here to do 
some sightseeing. You're staying here. We could use your help 
around here." 

I didn't say anything, but I knew his pregnancy-enforced 
leave from the CIA was driving him as stir crazy as Sydney. I 
trusted Sydney, but I was afraid Vaughn might try to talk her 
into doing things that involved heavy lifting. I would have to 
talk to her later about what he was and wasn't capable of 
(something he was too stubborn to be objective about).

She smiled, unaware of my probably unwarranted fears for 
Vaughn's health. "Sure. I can do that."

********
(3 days later)

I came home from work to find Sydney and Vaughn sprawled on 
the couch watching an old black and white film on television. 
Well, Sydney was watching and Vaughn was sprawled with his 
head in her lap, snoring softly.

"Now you've done it," I said in a low voice. "Once he lays 
down he's like a beached whale."

She smiled and ran her fingers lightly through his hair. "I 
didn't want to move and wake him up," she said softly.

I knelt beside the couch and brushed a stray hair from his 
face, bending to kiss his cheek gently. He stirred at the 
touch and blinked at me sleepily, a slow smile spreading 
across his face. "Hey," he murmured.

I smiled back at him. "Hey, baby." I leaned in to kiss him 
chastely on the lips and then held out my hand to him. "Let's 
give Sydney's thighs a break." 

He rolled his eyes but let me help him up anyway. "We put 
together the crib," he said when he was fully upright. "And we 
did some painting. The baby's room is starting to look like 
the inside of a bottle of Pepto Bismol."

I chuckled at his mildly derisive tone. "That was your idea," 
I reminded him. "I would have gone for primary colors."

"She's already going to live with two men. The least we can do 
is make her room look girly. If she turns into a tomboy anyway 
we can always redecorate."

"I managed to talk him out of the Barbie wallpaper border and 
into something more subtle," Sydney added. "But still girly," 
she rushed to add as Vaughn gave her a look. 

After a few moments of silence Sydney sat up straighter and 
announced "I'm going to go get dinner ready." 

"No, stay here," I protested. "I'm sure I can find something."

"No, it's already done," she said with a sweet smile. "I just 
have to put it in the oven." With that, she hurried off to the 
kitchen. 

"She hasn't slowed down since she got here, has she," I asked 
as I slid onto the couch beside Vaughn, pressing against his 
side. 

He leaned into me, his body wonderfully warm and pliant from 
his nap. "Nope. It's nice having her here though. She keeps me 
from being bored out of my mind when you're at work."

I hummed an agreement and pulled his face to mine for a deep, 
probing kiss. He sighed into my mouth and went limp against me 
in surrender. I straddled his lap as the kiss grew more 
passionate, pressing my stirring cock against his thigh and 
sucking on the skin at the base of his jaw. 

"MmmmMulder...let me up...bathroom," he mumbled. 

I sighed and reluctantly climbed to my feet, helping him up 
and watching as he waddled out of the room in search of a 
bathroom. A couple weeks earlier I had commented on the fact 
that his increasingly frequent need to empty his bladder was 
crimping our love life. He responded by throwing a bar of soap 
at my head and asking if I would prefer the baby be kicking 
*my* bladder around like a soccer ball and I promised I would 
never complain again. Honestly, sex with Vaughn had been as 
amazing as ever - if not better - since he became pregnant. 
Scully told me it had something to do with uterine 
contractions but I can barely understand half of what she says 
when she starts speaking in medical terms.

I peeked in the kitchen to find Sydney busily chopping 
vegetables. "If it's going to be a while still, I think I'll 
go take a quick shower."

Sydney glanced over her shoulder briefly and said "yeah, sure. 
It'll take at least twenty minutes for the lasagna to cook."

I crept quietly up the stairs and reached the bathroom door 
just as it started to open. Vaughn blinked at me in surprise 
as I pushed him back inside the bathroom and closed the door 
behind us. 

"Strip," I said simply, pulling off my tie and quickly undoing 
the buttons on my dress shirt.

I had us both naked and in the shower in record time. He 
leaned into me, relaxing under the warm spray and hummed as I 
wrapped my arms around him from behind. I let my right hand 
dip lower, loosely closing my fist around his stirring length. 

He hummed. "How much time do we have?"

"Sydney said dinner is in twenty minutes," I replied, plunging 
two fingers into his slippery channel. It had taken a while to 
get used to the fact that he had both male and female 
equipment, but I had quickly become comfortable with both sets 
after I spent the better part of one night pleasuring him 
multiple ways. 

He snatched my wrist, pulling my hand away, and turned in my 
arms. "Then we can do that later."

I groaned. "I don't think I can wait any longer. I've been 
thinking about you all day."

He gave me a devilish smile. "That's not what I meant," he 
said, dropping less than gracefully to the floor of the 
shower. I groaned again as he swiped his tongue teasingly 
against the tip of my straining cock, watching me from beneath 
dark lashes.

Needless to say, I didn't last long. For a man who claimed to 
have had sex only with women until the day he met me, Vaughn 
was disgustingly good at giving blowjobs. 

He swallowed eagerly when I came and hummed gratefully when I 
released my death grip on his hair. I pet his head 
apologetically and cupped his chin, tilting his face up until 
his eyes met mine. I knew he didn't expect me to reciprocate 
yet. We both knew that ever since his second trimester he 
could go for hours and have multiple orgasms and still 
sometimes not be satiated. Besides, I was looking forward to 
being able to take my time thoroughly ravishing him. I helped 
him stand up and kissed him deeply, tasting my own semen on 
his tongue. 

"I'll make it up to you later," I muttered between kisses.

"Hmm...you'd better."

*******

"You've only been here three days and you've already spoiled 
us," I said as I helped Sydney clear the table.

She laughed. "Actually, Vaughn does at least half the work. 
He's surprisingly adept in the kitchen."

"You say that like you're surprised to find a gay man who can 
cook," I said teasingly. 

"Hey," Vaughn yelped, swatting me on the backside when I came 
within range of his chair. "I just do what she tells me to."

"Ah, my mistake," I joked, carrying another plate to the sink. 
"A *submissive* gay man who can cook." 

I laughed as a rolled up napkin hit me in the back of the 
neck, accompanied by Vaughn's muttered "I'll show you 
submissive..."

Sydney smiled and winked at me before turning to address 
Vaughn. "Either of you up for dessert?"

"Depends on what you're referring to," I said with a subtle 
leer at Vaughn. He flushed in embarrassment. 

Sydney rolled her eyes at me. "I was referring to the ice 
cream in the freezer, but if you two would rather be alone..."

"Ice cream's fine," Vaughn blurted, his eyes pointedly 
avoiding mine. 

She opened the freezer and pulled out two pint-size containers 
of Godiva White Chocolate Raspberry. She set one down on the 
counter for me to divide between two bowls and opened the 
other, handing it to Vaughn along with a spoon. 

"Trying to tell me something," Vaughn asked, eyeing her 
suspiciously.

Sydney smiled brightly. "Nope. Not at all."

I set her bowl in front of her as I sat back down at the 
table. "Just so you know, you might hear some strange noises 
coming from our room tonight. Ignore them."

Vaughn nearly choked on a mouthful of ice cream. "Mulder," he 
hissed warningly. 

"What," I asked innocently. 

Sydney laughed. "Don't worry, I will. I made sure to bring 
earplugs with me this time."

I watched in amusement as Vaughn's face turned red. The last 
time Sydney had spent the night in our house Vaughn had let 
out a particularly loud yelp during what would have otherwise 
been a relatively quiet round of sex. Sydney had burst in the 
room, disheveled from sleep, her gun in her hands, her eyes 
wide as she realized her mistake. She had just laughed about 
it the next day, but Vaughn had spent the entire morning 
apologizing for scaring her and avoiding her eyes. 

"I don't know how you guys can have so much energy," she 
continued. "Will's usually unconscious after an hour. Two at 
most."

Vaughn spluttered and I reached over to pat him on the back. 
"Syd," he choked.

"What," she asked, wide-eyed. "We're all adults here." 

"That doesn't mean we have to talk about our sex lives while 
we're eating," he protested.

"Why not? As long as we don't start describing bodily fluids 
in detail I don't see the harm."

"Vaughn's had the stamina of a racehorse ever since he became 
pregnant," I said in answer to her earlier implied question. 
Vaughn shot me a withering look but gave in, slumping back in 
his seat with his container of ice cream and listening to us 
talk about sex.

*******

"Did you have to tell her that I let you tie me to the bed," 
Vaughn asked later that night while I brushed my teeth. 

I spit toothpaste into the sink and looked up at him, standing 
in the bathroom doorway with his arms folded. It would have 
been an intimidating look if his arms hadn't looked like they 
were resting on a beach ball. "Did she have to tell us about 
her and Will playing The Grad Student and The Naughty 
Professor? We were just trading stories - giving each other 
advice. I know you two talk about me and Will all the time 
anyway."

"That's different," he argued. "We don't talk about the 
details of our sex lives."

"Well, you should try it. Sounds like Sydney could give you 
some suggestions."

Vaughn glared at me, but I could tell he wasn't completely 
angry. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

I finished rinsing and turned to him, drawing him into my arms 
with little resistance. "You said yes," I replied simply. He 
rolled his eyes, but leaned into my kiss, letting his arms 
drape around my neck. "I love you," I whispered against his 
lips. 

He hummed and deepened the kiss, coaxing me out of the 
bathroom and into the bedroom, only pausing long enough to 
allow me to turn off the bathroom light.

I helped him remove his clothing, my hands smoothing over his 
skin as it was exposed, marveling at the strange mixture of 
soft skin and hard muscles. I hadn't been lying to him before. 
His pecs may have softened a little during pregnancy, but 
aside from that and the bulging abdomen he was still 
undoubtedly masculine. 

"No," he gasped when I tried to push him onto his back on the 
bed. "Can't breathe..."

I piled pillows against the headboard and helped him recline 
against them. He smiled at me as he leaned back, letting his 
legs fall open wide to give me a better view. I leaned in to 
kiss him again as he wrestled my clothing from me. He managed 
to get my shirt and shoved my jeans off my hips. Then he just 
slipped his hands inside my boxers to cup my ass and pulled me 
tightly against him so my clothed erection came into contact 
with his own. I pulled away teasingly and he moaned in 
frustration.

"Please, Mulder, just fuck me already," he begged. 

"I will," I promised as I kissed my way down his neck and 
along his shoulders. "Many times. Until you beg me for mercy. 
Then I'll fuck you some more." I rocked my hips against his 
and he moaned. 

"Get on with it then." 

I shook my head slightly. "Yes, sir." 

He gasped as I pulled back and bent down to take him in my 
mouth without any further warning. I pressed two fingers into 
his slick opening and rubbed gently against the front wall to 
stimulate his prostate. He whimpered and spread his legs 
wider, his muscles fluttering against my fingers and then 
relaxing, allowing me to slip a third inside and move them 
back and forth, stretching him. The small channel accommodated 
me easily. Vaughn and I had been working on stretching those 
muscles in the hopes that we could avoid tearing when the baby 
was born. Scully assured me that there didn't seem to be any 
reason he couldn't safely give birth to our daughter, but we 
didn't want to take any chances. 

He came relatively quickly, shuddering as he spilled into my 
mouth. I sucked him dry and kissed my way back up his body, 
paying special attention to the taut muscles that protected 
the baby. 

"How do you want me," I asked between bites and licks to his 
neck. 

"I don't care," he groaned. "I just want you in me."

I helped him roll over onto his hands and knees and plunged 
inside him without another word. He moaned and spread his 
knees, opening himself more fully to me, his stomach almost 
touching the mattress beneath him. I groaned as slick muscles 
squeezed and rippled around my cock. I had been hesitant to 
fuck him like this when I first found out he had a vagina. 
Almost afraid, even, as if it would make him seem more 
feminine. It didn't. I realized that even though he had some 
of the same equipment as a woman, sex with him was nothing 
like sex with a women. He had his own unique responses to 
stimuli that were neither entirely masculine nor entirely 
feminine. He was simply Vaughn. So when anal sex became too 
painful the further his pregnancy progressed, eliminating that 
option from our love life proved to be a fairly easy 
sacrifice.

"Lower," he breathed. I changed my angle until I knew I had to 
be slamming into his prostate and he let out a soft wail of 
pleasure, rolling his hips back to meet my thrusts. "Yes," he 
hissed. His thighs began to tremble beneath my fingers. I held 
his hips steady and pounded into him with sharp, quick thrusts 
that I knew he could feel reverberating through his whole 
body.

"Yes...yes...oh god...Mulder..."

I managed a smirk through the haze of passion forming around 
me. Vaughn could make me feel like the greatest lover in the 
world.

His whole body shook when he came, his muscles fluttering 
against me, a long string of soft whimpers spilling from his 
lips. His cock twitched dryly. One of the benefits of his 
mixed up hormones and physical biology was that he could come 
multiple times without long refractory periods, but he didn't 
always ejaculate or even get hard. In fact, he claimed that 
sometimes the orgasms he had that didn't involve ejaculation 
were more intense, but we had yet to find any definite 
correlation between the variables.

I caught him before his arms gave out and helped lower him to 
his side, pulling out of him in the process despite his very 
vocal protests. I pressed against his back and simply held him 
until his breathing evened out.

"Why'd you stop," he gasped. 

I smoothed my hand over his abdomen and kissed his neck. 
"You're exhausted. She's been restless all day, hasn't she?"

He sighed. "Yes, but I'm *fine*. Keep going."

"I didn't say I was stopping," I said as I pulled his top leg 
over my own and pushed back inside his now drenched opening. 
"I just thought you should relax and let me do the driving."

He grunted. "I thought that's what you were doing."

"Yeah, well, it shouldn't come as news to you, but you're an 
incredibly bossy and controlling bottom."

"So're you," he fired back over his shoulder.

I smirked. "Just relax and let me do the work, would you?"

He grumbled something unintelligible and relaxed obediently, 
reluctantly handing the control fully over to me.

I rocked gently against him, creating just enough friction to 
bring him to the edge again fast. He moaned and writhed, 
clutching fistfuls of the bedsheet restlessly.

"Harder," he ground out.

I sped my movements, holding his hips steady and shifting my 
own to jab relentlessly at his prostate. He yelped and moaned 
loudly as he shuddered through yet another orgasm. This time I 
let go and followed him with my own triumphant moan. He gave 
an additional tiny noise of pleasure as my semen flowed into 
him - a feeling he had once told me was almost as pleasurable 
as the sex itself.

I held him as he came back down to earth, petting him gently. 
I felt our daughter's restless movements under my hand and 
heard his breath hitch as one particularly sharp little limb 
jabbed him.

"I think we woke her," I commented.

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a sudden 
burst of applause from the other side of the bedroom wall. I 
held back a laugh as Vaughn blushed furiously. Apparently, the 
baby wasn't the only one we had woken.

*******
(Two days later)

It was an almost anti-climactic moment. The day had started 
out a normal Sunday morning. Vaughn had been particularly 
affectionate, staying close to me as much as possible, but 
that was hardly suspicious given his hormone fluctuations as 
of late. I helped him and Sydney work on the finishing touches 
of the baby's room. Sydney's compromise to the girly debate, 
it seemed, was to paint flowers freehand on all the walls in 
rich pastel colors. She jokingly told me that it insured we 
would have to tell the baby about her Aunt Sydney.

We were just finishing lunch when it happened.

"I'm in labor," Vaughn announced casually, as if it were a 
passing conversation piece. 

Sydney and I stared at each other in shock, the dishes we were 
cleaning frozen in our hands. "Are you sure," I asked dumbly. 

He nodded and grimaced - no doubt in response to a 
contraction. "A few hours now, I think."

I was at his side in an instant.

"It's okay," he said hurriedly when he saw the no doubt 
worried look on my face. "The contractions are still really 
far apart. Dana said it would probably be hours before I 
needed to worry about it."

I pulled my chair as close to him as possible and squeezed his 
hand. "Are you okay?"

He gave me a tremulous smile. "Excited," he said nervously. 
"Scared...I still don't think I'm ready for this."

"I don't think anybody's ever really ready," Sydney piped up. 
"You're as prepared as you'll ever be." She smiled 
reassuringly. "You'll be fine."

He smiled back at her and lightly massaged his swollen 
abdomen. "When Dana said it might happen two weeks ahead of 
schedule she wasn't kidding," he muttered.

"Should I call her," I asked.

He seemed to consider it for a moment and then nodded. I 
picked up the phone and watched as Sydney helped Vaughn move 
to a more comfortable location.

"It sounds like he's still in early labor," Scully confirmed 
when I explained the situation to her. "Michael's right, you 
shouldn't have to worry much yet unless he starts bleeding 
heavily. Don't be too alarmed if there's a little bit of blood 
though - that's normal. Let me know when the contractions are 
about five minutes apart and I'll get ready to leave."

"You're not coming here now?"

"The first stage is always the longest. It could be several 
more hours before he goes into active labor. There's really 
nothing to do until then but wait. Make sure he stays hydrated 
and keeps his bladder empty. Watch a movie, go for a walk, put 
up drapes, whatever he feels up to doing. Just don't stray too 
far from the house. Breathe, Mulder. Relax. Keep him calm. He 
should stay upright, walking around if possible, but if he can 
take a nap he should go ahead. He'll need all the energy he 
can get later."

By the time I hung up and located Vaughn and Sydney he was 
sprawled on the Lay-Z-Boy, snoring softly. Sydney, her hand 
resting gently on his abdomen, shook her head at me in 
amazement. "I think he just slept through a contraction."

I rolled my eyes. "He's determined to be a tough guy through 
this. He already told Scully he will *not* take anything for 
the pain."

Sydney looked alarmed. "Can he handle that?"

"You tell me. Your agency trained him to deal with all kinds 
of abuse."

"That's different," she argued. 

"I know, but he's insistent that if he can handle getting 
shot, stabbed and tortured he can handle childbirth."

"As far as I know in all of those cases he was unconscious 
through much of it. 

I sighed. I had suspected as much. "Well, he's insisted he can 
handle it and he's threatened to castrate me if I try to force 
any drugs on him. Maybe he'll come to his senses, but it's his 
body. If he wants to suffer through it there's really nothing 
we can do to stop him."

She shook her head and muttered something unintelligible, 
rubbing her hand lightly over Vaughn's abdomen. She stopped 
when he began to stir.

"Stop hovering over me," he grumbled sleepily. "This could 
take hours. I don't need you guys breathing down my neck the 
entire time."

Sydney held up her hands placatingly. "I was just timing your 
contractions."

"They were about twenty minutes apart the last time I 
checked," he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I moved to stand by his side. "Are you comfortable like that?"

He sighed. "My back is sore," he admitted.

I sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. 
"C'mere."

He sighed again and heaved himself from the chair, hobbling 
over to the couch and easing himself down next to me. I piled 
pillows on my lap and helped him lay down. Sydney handed him a 
rolled up blanket to put between his knees. 

"When you said a few hours, how many are we talking?"

"Since about eight or nine this morning, I think."

I wanted to be angry with him for not telling me sooner, but I 
could only be angry with myself for not recognizing the signs. 
One minute he was laughing and joking with Sydney, playfully 
dabbing paint on her nose as she tried to put the finishing 
touches on a brightly colored daisy by the door to the nursery 
and the next he was complaining of a backache and plastering 
himself to my side. He had been in labor for hours already and 
I hadn't known...hadn't really been there for him. "Why didn't 
you tell me," I asked, my voice sounding pained even to my own 
ears.

"Because I knew you would both be like this. I didn't want to 
spend the entire day in bed with you two hovering over me, 
wringing your hands." He flinched and rubbed his stomach as 
another contraction hit.

Sydney glanced at her watch. "It's only been twelve minutes 
since the last one," she announced.

"Are they getting stronger," I asked.

"Not really," he replied hesitantly.

I shook my head at Sydney and mouthed 'it's okay'. "Let me 
know when they do," I said to Vaughn, picking up the remote 
and flipping on the television before handing it to him. "In 
the meantime, why don't you find us something to watch."

*****
(Three hours later)

Vaughn leaned against me heavily as the warm water rained on 
us from the showerhead, moaning softly through another 
contraction. Once the contractions had started getting closer 
and more intense I had instructed Sydney to call Scully while 
I stayed with Vaughn. Scully had confirmed that Vaughn was now 
in active labor and assured us she was on her way. Sydney was 
waiting for her downstairs. 

I rubbed Vaughn's back and swayed gently with him, almost like 
we were slow dancing. "Breathe," I instructed softly. His grip 
tightened around my shoulders and he pressed his forehead to 
my neck.

"It hurts," he gasped.

I held him tighter. "I know. Just try to relax."

He slumped almost completely against me, trusting me to hold 
him up, and continued to sway gently until the water began to 
run cold. I managed to get Vaughn out of the shower and dried, 
helping him into a thick terrycloth robe. He leaned against 
the counter while I got dressed, rocking back and forth and 
whimpering, his eyes tightly shut as another contraction came 
and went. "They're getting stronger," he hissed. "It feels 
like my spine is in a vice."

I led him into the bedroom slowly. "Maybe we should try 
different positions, see if we can find one that's less 
painful."

He rolled his eyes, then focused on something outside the 
window. "Dana's here."

I left Vaughn - at his insistence - to greet Scully. By the 
time I reached the door, Sydney was already opening it for 
her. 

Scully smiled politely and held out her hand. "You must be 
Sydney. I'm Dana Scully."

Sydney shook her hand and smiled back, stepping aside to let 
Scully in. "Vaughn is upstairs."

"How is he," Scully asked. 

"About an hour away from killing me is my guess," I replied 
dryly, causing both women to look up at me, startled. "The 
contractions are getting stronger and his back is really 
hurting."

Scully nodded, smiling. "That's normal. Do you have any heat 
packs?"

*******

Scully and I arrived in the bedroom to find Vaughn kneeling 
beside the bed, digging his elbows into the mattress and 
hissing through clenched teeth. She dropped her doctor's bag 
on the bedside table and ordered him to get on his hands and 
knees on the bed.

"What, you're not even going to offer me dinner first," Vaughn 
asked sarcastically.

Scully smiled. "You've been around Mulder too long, Michael."

He grumbled as he heaved himself painfully onto the bed. "How 
do you think I got this way?" He grunted as she began 
palpating his back.

"Let me know when I find the spot where it hurts most."

He flinched as she pressed against the small of his back. 
"Right there."

Scully motioned me over to the other side of the bed and 
grabbed my hand, pressing it over the offending spot in 
Vaughn's back. "Push hard," she instructed, grinding the heel 
of my hand into his spine.

"I don't want to hurt him," I protested. 

"You're not," Vaughn moaned, visibly relaxing. "It feels 
good."

Scully patted his back with a smile and then crouched beside 
him, one hand on his abdomen, the other resting just above the 
swell of his buttocks. "Okay, I'm going to have you try 
something. Roll your hips under, toward your stomach." He 
followed her directions slowly. "A little more...squeeze... 
okay, bring them back." 

She had him repeat the process. The third time around he 
gasped and froze in mid-release. Scully smiled. "There she 
goes. That should help with the back pain." Vaughn nodded, 
blowing out a grateful breath. Then he gasped and whimpered 
softly, shifting restlessly and arching his back against 
another painful contraction.

"Easy. Don't fight it," Scully encouraged soothingly as she 
snapped on a pair of latex gloves. "Try to relax into it - 
ride it out."

Sydney arrived with a heat pack and handed it to me 
wordlessly. Vaughn sighed when I pressed it into his lower 
back, then winced as Scully's hand snuck under his robe and 
disappeared between his legs.

She winced in sympathy. "I'm afraid you've got quite a ways to 
go yet," she announced, bringing her hand back and wiping it 
on the clean towel I had left nearby. "Might as well settle 
in, it could take a while." 

*******

I watched helplessly as Sydney soothed Vaughn's forehead with 
a cool washcloth, barely even flinching at the death grip he 
had on her hand. The last time I had tried to touch him he had 
snarled and punched me in the arm. My bicep still throbbed 
from the blow.

"I am never letting you touch me again, you son of a bitch," 
he hissed around the pain, his words breaking off with a moan, 
his back arching from the pillows pilled against the 
headboard.

"You don't mean that," Sydney said gently, brushing his hair 
back from his temples with a light touch.

Vaughn ignored her and muttered a half coherent threat 
involving the removal of a certain part of my anatomy with 
hedge clippers. Sydney visibly held back a laugh and kissed 
his forehead. He whimpered once and finally slumped against 
the pillows, panting heavily.

"They're getting longer," Sydney pointed out unnecessarily, 
sponging sweat from his face and neck.

Vaughn nodded, dazed, his glassy eyes searching the room. He 
found me quickly and held out a hand to me, his gaze pleading.

I was at his side instantly, climbing onto the bed next to him 
and grasping his extended hand, kissing the back of it gently. 
"I'm here, baby."

Sydney smiled and carefully pried her hand from Vaughn's. "I 
think I'll go see if Dana needs help," she announced, giving 
Vaughn's hand one last squeeze before fleeing the room.

"I don't think I can do this," Vaughn moaned.

I moved as close to him as I could and drew him into my arms 
awkwardly, careful of his hyper sensitive abdomen. "You can, 
baby. You're doing great so far."

"'m tired," he slurred.

I kissed his hair and combed down the strands sticking in all 
directions from the back of his head with one hand. "Then 
sleep," I said softly. "You should have at least five minutes 
until the next contraction..."

His arm slipped from my shoulder, falling heavily to the bed, 
and I realized that he was already asleep.

********

Watching Vaughn ride out the increasingly painful 
contractions, I was reminded of the fine line between pain and 
pleasure. He had thrown off the robe an hour earlier, 
complaining that he felt too hot. His bare skin was flushed 
and slick with sweat. He rocked back and forth on his hands 
and knees, his body gyrating like a man in the throws of 
passion. The noises coming from his mouth, however, told a 
very different story and were possibly the only thing keeping 
me from pitching a tent since my dick certainly didn't know 
the difference. I pressed the heat pack to his lower back, 
although it only provided minimal relief. I felt helpless, 
watching my lover suffer like this and being unable to do 
anything much about it. I knew Sydney felt just as frustrated.

"Vaughn," she entreated from her position squatting beside the 
bed, looking up into his eyes, rubbing his knuckles with 
gentle fingers. "If you're afraid it will hurt the baby..."

"I said no," he snapped. "I can do this."

We had been trying to talk him into taking something for the 
pain, but he still wouldn't consider it.

"Has he always been this stubborn," Scully asked from a nearby 
chair, putting down the book she had been reading.

Sydney shot her a withering look. "For as long as I've known 
him, yes," she said flatly.

Scully chuffed lightly. "Well, he has a higher pain tolerance 
than most men, so I don't doubt he can do this without drugs, 
but it will get worse before it gets better." She directed the 
last comment more at Vaughn than Sydney or me. 

I helped Vaughn as he struggled to turn onto his side, propped 
up by the mound of pillows, his knees tucked under him. "This 
is going to be difficult enough without me being doped up on 
painkillers," he muttered.

I knew he was referring to the abnormal nature of the 
pregnancy. Scully had told us early on that, while Vaughn's 
hips were wider than normal for a man they bordered on being 
too narrow for childbirth. She assured us there was no reason 
to believe he couldn't give birth safely but he was determined 
do it as naturally as possible to minimize the risks. 'And 
also because he is hardheaded and wants to prove to the world 
that he can handle childbirth,' I thought.

Scully sighed and patted his knee as she sat on the edge of 
the bed. "Okay. It's your choice." Sydney took over Scully's 
former position in the chair and picked up her book curiously, 
reading the back cover. I pressed myself against Vaughn's 
back, offering him comfort and support.

"We never decided on a name for the baby," I said, desperate 
to provide a distraction. 

"That's because you kept coming up with horrible names," he 
grumbled.

"I was not," I said in mock offense.

"I am not letting you name this baby Daisy or Geraldine or 
Edwina or anything else that is going to prompt other kids to 
mock her on the playground." 

He grunted and squirmed as the pain barreled down on him. I 
held him as he rode it out, my hands ghosting over his 
clenching abdomen. I kissed his temple when it was over and 
he lay panting in my arms.

"Three minutes," Sydney declared, her eyes on the clock by the 
dresser.

"How about Isabelle," he offered around gasping breaths.

"How about something more original," I fired back. "Every 
other baby born in the last year was named Isabelle."

"Yeah, well, your idea of 'original' is shit. I will not call 
my daughter Winifred."

"Oh, so she's *your* daughter now," I teased.

"Well, when she starts getting into trouble at school and 
asking questions about government conspiracies and little 
green men she'll be your daughter."

"Little grey men," I corrected automatically and yelped when 
this prompted him to elbow me in the ribs.

Scully donned a latex glove, her lips pressed into a thin line 
in an effort to hold back her smile. "Can you roll a little 
towards Mulder, Michael," she asked. "I want to check your 
dilation."

I helped Vaughn roll slightly onto his back, holding his knee 
up and out of the way as her hand disappeared between his 
thighs. He moaned and I kissed his hair, whispering nonsense 
into his ear to distract him.

Scully felt around for a few seconds and nodded over her 
shoulder at Sydney. "He should be entering transition soon."

I didn't bother to ask. One thing I had learned about Sydney 
was that she was an amazingly quick study. I had no doubt she 
had convinced Scully to teach her everything she could 
possibly need to know to help with the birth in the past few 
hours. I also knew she would be disgustingly good at 
everything she had learned.

"What does that mean," Vaughn asked.

Scully removed her hand. "The good new is it shouldn't take as 
long from here on out. The bad news is the most difficult part 
is yet to come. Are you sure you won't take anything?"

Vaughn nodded determinedly. 

Scully sighed. "All right." She nodded to Sydney and the two 
women left the room.

******

If I had thought it was difficult to watch Vaughn suffer 
through contractions before, it was downright excruciating 
now. For over an hour I had been sitting behind him, holding 
him upright while he all but screamed through near-continuous 
bouts of pain. His water had broken toward the end of the last 
"stage" and Sydney and Scully had been busy ever since - 
cleaning the mess of fluids from the bed, bathing Vaughn's 
face with cool washcloths, helping him drink glasses of water 
or simply holding his hand and talking him through the pain, 
encouraging him to breathe and assuring him he was doing well.

It was well into the night and from the look of it our 
daughter wouldn't be born for quite a while yet. Vaughn was 
half delirious with pain, his body trembling continuously, an 
unbroken stream of incoherent mumbling spilling from his lips.

"I love you," he murmured in a moment of coherency, his voice 
weak and ragged from exhaustion and overuse. 

"I love you too, baby," I replied instinctively. "Now 
relax...save your strength."

He moaned and reached a trembling arm to Sydney, who pulled 
him toward her and held the trash can under his chin while he 
vomited. It was the second time he had done so and Scully had 
already patiently explained to me that both the shaking and 
the vomiting were perfectly normal and there was no need for 
me to panic and upset Vaughn. I rubbed his back, wincing as he 
moaned tiredly. 

He slumped back against me with a whimper. "How about Emma," 
he slurred.

"Too Jane Austen," I teased gently. "How about Amelia?"

"Too...Earhart," he gasped, moaning as another contraction 
shook him.

"How about Sarah," Sydney suggested when it had passed. "I 
mean, I know it's not original, but I heard you call her 
Princess and Sarah means Princess in old Hebrew."

Vaughn's glazed eyes met mine.

"Sarah Mulder," I said experimentally.

"Sarah Vaughn-Mulder," he corrected, the name breaking off 
with a hiss of pain. 

"We'll argue about the surname later."

I gripped his hand as he cried out and arched his back, 
quivering through a contraction and slumping against me 
weakly.

"Here, Michael..." Scully cupped his chin and pressed a glass 
of cool water to his lips, helping him drink.

"I don't think I can do this," Vaughn moaned when he finished 
drinking.

"You're almost done," Scully promised, squeezing the hand he 
wasn't using to crush mine. 

He flinched and I realized that Sydney had donned a glove at 
some point and had her hand between Vaughn's legs. "He's fully 
dilated," she told Scully. 

Scully smiled at him. "You can start pushing with the next 
contraction."

******

After an hour of pushing, we still seemed to be going nowhere 
fast. It was well into the early morning hours and we were all 
beginning to get tired. Vaughn was exhausted. I rubbed my hand 
over his abdomen, keeping my touch light enough to be 
comfortable for him but heavy enough for me to feel the 
contractions. When one came, I helped him lean forward and 
supported him while he grunted and bore down, pushing with all 
of his strength. When it passed he slumped against me, 
panting, his face red from exertion. 

"I can't do this anymore," he moaned after a particularly 
lengthy contraction, his head lolling against my shoulder.

I kissed his cheek and stroked his hair back from his sweaty 
face. "Yes, you can honey. You're stronger than anyone I 
know...except Sydney, of course."

Sydney snorted daintily.

"Just think about the baby," I coached. "Just a little while 
longer and you'll be able to see her...hold her." I wiped away 
the pained tears leaking from his eyes. "You can do this."

His breathing grew short and rapid, the muscles under my hand 
beginning to tense. I helped him lean forward and he bore down 
again.

"That's good," Scully encouraged from her position between 
Vaughn's knees, pressing a small, covered heat pack against 
his perineum and monitoring the baby's progress. "Keep 
pushing...a little more."

"Breathe," Sydney instructed. The breath Vaughn had been 
holding blew out of him in a rush and he cried out, straining 
to push our daughter out of his body.

"Stop," Scully said after a minute and Vaughn slumped against 
me, gasping for breath. 

"Ow," he moaned. I bit my lip to corral the laugh building in 
my throat, knowing he wouldn't appreciate the humor of that 
statement. 

"Okay, try not to push on the next contraction," Scully 
directed. Then she directed her words to Sydney. "Can you get 
me a mirror?"

Sydney peeked between Vaughn's legs before running off to find 
one.

"What is it," I asked, alarmed. 

Scully smiled. "I just thought you might want to see your 
daughter." 

Sydney returned and squatted next to Scully, holding up a 
small, hand held mirror between Vaughn's legs.

"Oh my god," Vaughn breathed. In the reflection of the mirror, 
amid a mass of pubic hair, stretched skin and birthing fluids, 
was the smooth surface of a tiny head. Vaughn's body tensed 
suddenly and it moved a fraction of an inch outward. 

"Don't push," Scully reminded Vaughn.

"I'm trying," he gasped.

"Vaughn, look at me," Sydney ordered. "Breathe." She began 
breathing in a rhythmic half-pant, half-blow until Vaughn 
began to copy her.

The head moved, seemingly of its own volition, until it just 
barely protruded from Vaughn's body. Vaughn hissed as he was, 
no doubt, stretched to the limit.

Scully grabbed his hand and brought it between his legs, 
guiding his fingers to the baby's head. She let go and he 
smoothed his fingers over the surface experimentally, a smile 
creeping onto his face in spite of the pain. "It feels weird," 
he said softly, awestruck. I laced my fingers with his, 
sliding them across the surface of our daughter's head. 

He pulled our joined hands away suddenly as the next 
contraction hit, squeezing my hand tightly and panting through 
the pain like Sydney had coached him to, struggling against 
his body's instincts to push. "It burns," he moaned in my ear. 

My eyes remained fixed to the mirror as the baby's head began 
to emerge. "Okay, you can push now," Scully said urgently. 

"Haaaauuughhh." He bore down with all his strength and the 
baby's head emerged fully from him in a rush of fluids.

Vaughn slumped against me again and Sydney put down the 
mirror, running to grab something out of Scully's bag and 
returning to her post to suction fluid from the baby's nose 
and mouth. I watched Scully prod at Vaughn's splayed opening. 
"Okay one more push."

Vaughn hoisted himself upright determinedly and pushed, an 
almost animal scream coming from deep in his chest. 

"Harder," Scully commanded.

"I can't," he shouted back. 

"Yes, you can, baby, push!" I reached my hands around him and 
gripped his thighs firmly, pressing up and out, giving him 
leverage. 

He gave a long, pained cry and pushed with everything he had 
left. I watched as our daughter finally came free and slid 
into Scully's waiting hands. Scully turned her over and tapped 
her on the back. A moment later the sharp wailing of a newborn 
filled the room. Vaughn gave a watery, relieved laugh, tears 
still flowing freely down his cheeks, lying limp against me in 
complete exhaustion.

Scully checked the baby over, announced the time of birth and 
told us we had a healthy baby girl. She also said something 
about an apgar, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was 
too busy staring at the small, wrinkly creature in her hands, 
its skin red and coated with slime, its head misshapen by its 
trip through the birth canal. If I had to be objective I would 
have said it wasn't a pretty sight. But it suddenly hit me 
that this was my daughter. My daughter. This was the little 
miracle my lover had carried in his body for the past nine 
months. I realized that I could never be objective where Sarah 
was concerned. Even coated with slime and sporting a painful 
looking cone head, she was the most beautiful baby I had ever 
seen.

I slipped from behind Vaughn, letting him rest against the 
pile of pillows while Scully worked to clean him up a little, 
gathering the dirty towels spread all over the bed and tossing 
them into the nearby laundry basket. Sydney cleaned Sarah off 
as best she could, cooing at her in an effort to soothe her 
cries. She wrapped the baby in a warm, fluffy towel and handed 
her to Vaughn with a practiced ease worthy of a trained nurse. 
Or maybe it was just the natural instincts of a woman and - 
hopefully - future mother. The second Sarah was in Vaughn's 
arms she began rooting for a nipple.

"You want to feed her," Scully asked, noticing the frantic 
sucking motions Sarah was making.

"Is that okay," Vaughn asked warily.

Scully nodded. "Go for it. It might help with delivering the 
placenta."

Vaughn groaned softly. "You mean I'm not done?"

Scully laughed. "Don't worry. This is the easy part."

Sydney helped Vaughn guide Sarah's head to his left nipple. 
She latched on instantly and began to suck. 

Vaughn grunted, his eyes widening in surprise. "It feels 
weird," he murmured. He stared down at Sarah in amazement, 
cradling her as if she were a precious piece of china and he 
was deathly afraid she would break if she wasn't handled 
properly. I uncurled one tiny fist, marveling at the small, 
perfectly formed fingers. The hand wrapped around my finger 
with an impossibly tight grip, the tiny fingernails digging 
groves into my skin.

"She has her mother's strength already," I said with a laugh, 
although Scully would later tell me this was true of all 
newborns. 

Vaughn laughed softly, unable to tear his eyes from our 
daughter's face. I realized suddenly that this was the first 
time he had let me call him the baby's mother without protest 
and wondered vaguely if he had come to accept it as his new 
title or if he was just too tired and happy to care.

I stroked Vaughn's hair with the hand Sarah didn't have a 
death grip on. "I'm proud of you," I said softly.

Vaughn tore his gaze from the baby and looked at me, his eyes 
shining. "Thank you." He kissed me reverently and immediately 
returned his focus to Sarah, tracing the contours of her face 
with one trembling finger.

Sydney helped Vaughn detach Sarah and turn her over, both of 
them making hushing noises when she wailed in dismay at having 
her food source taken away. She latched on to the other nipple 
easily and settled down, sucking contentedly and trapping 
Vaughn's exploratory finger in her stranglehold grip.

He pushed out the placenta with relative ease shortly 
thereafter. Scully plopped the hideous mass of tissue onto a 
pie tin we would never use again and declared it whole. She 
wrapped it in a bag, claiming she would have to dispose of it 
"properly" and went back to checking Vaughn to make sure he 
didn't have any tears or bleeding. He didn't. 

Sarah lulled herself to sleep, Vaughn's nipple slipping wetly 
out of her mouth, her tiny fist clutched in the soft fuzz that 
had passed for his chest hair since he had become pregnant.

Sydney held her arms out to Vaughn. "I can take her."

"No," Vaughn said quickly. "I'm fine."

"Vaughn, baby, you've been up for almost twenty four hours," I 
reasoned, unable to tear my eyes from my new daughter's 
precious face myself. "You need to rest."

He hesitated, then finally reluctantly handed the baby to 
Sydney, gently untangling the tiny fingers from his chest 
hair.

Sydney took her into the next room to clean her up some more 
and bundle her while Scully finished with Vaughn. 

"Sleep, baby," I encouraged, riffling my fingers through his 
damp hair. "You must be exhausted."

He hummed. "I love you," he mumbled as he stopped fighting the 
pull of sleep and slowly drifted away.

"I love you too."

*******
(Nine months later)

I came home from work to find Sydney and Will sitting on the 
living room floor, playing with Sarah. It was Sydney's first 
return visit since the baby had been born and she had 
surprised us by showing up with her "new fiancé". 

"Hey," Will greeted. "We decided to give Vaughn a break. He's 
upstairs taking a nap."

"Maybe I should have taken this off," Sydney said worriedly, 
watching Sarah pluck at the engagement ring on her finger, 
fascinated by the shiny diamond reflecting the overhead light.

"I'll pay for any damages," I assured her. 

"I'm just worried she could hurt herself," Sydney protested.

I laughed. "Trust me, she's fine. She swallowed Vaughn's ring 
last week and we didn't know what had happened until we found 
it in her diaper."

Sarah perked up suddenly at the sound of my voice and reached 
her chubby little arms out to me, her bright hazel eyes 
sparkling with delight. I squatted next to Sydney and pulled 
Sarah into my arms. 

"How's my little princess," I cooed. She giggled, her flailing 
arms whapping me in the nose as I leaned in to kiss her downy 
soft cheek. She lost interest in me quickly and began 
struggling to get down, her attention focused on her favorite 
toy - an already much abused stuffed pink rabbit.

I let her down and fingered the wisps of light brown hair 
covering her head while she gnawed on the rabbit's ear. "It's 
always nice to know where I rate in her world," I joked. Will 
smiled and Sydney laughed, playing with Sarah's bare foot. I 
stood reluctantly. "I'll go check on Vaughn."

He was curled on the bed, facing the cracked open door, still 
dressed in sweat pants and an old, stained button-down shirt 
with the top buttons undone. I kicked off my shoes and threw 
my tie and jacket on the chair by the door, climbing onto the 
bed carefully so I wouldn't wake him. He stirred anyway and 
blinked at me sleepily.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice sleepy. 

"Hey," I returned just as softly with a smile, kissing his 
welcoming lips. I scooted closer and pressed lazy kisses to 
his neck. "Mmm...you smell good."

He snorted. "I smell like old milk and baby spit up."

"Exactly," I smirked.

He groaned. "You're disgusting."

"What," I asked innocently. "You smell like a new mother. It's 
charming." I wrapped my arms around his middle and drew his 
sleep-warmed body against me.

He stiffened. "Mulder, no. You'll ruin your clothes..."

I kissed him into silence. "I don't care."

He sighed and relaxed against me. "Sarah's really taking to 
Will and Syd," he murmured.

"Hmm...then I guess we'll have to invite them over more often. 
Maybe they'd agree to transfer to Langley and become our 
regular babysitters."

He smiled. "And what would we tell Dana and John?"

"Good point. Scratch that. We'll just have to have them visit 
more. Although considering how much time Doggett spends with 
Sarah I'm starting to worry that she might call him 'daddy' 
when she starts talking."

He laughed. "She knows who her dad is. She may become confused 
about her mother when she gets older, however. I'm already 
dreading getting a call from her teacher wanting to know why 
her mother's name is listed as 'Michael'."

I smiled. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. 
Besides, gay people adopt babies all the time. I'm sure they 
won't think anything of it. As long as she doesn't tell people 
one of her daddies has a hoo-hoo, we're clear."

He swatted me hard enough to make my arm throb. I chuckled and 
resumed kissing his neck, popping open a couple buttons on his 
shirt as I worked my way down and across his chest, rolling 
him over onto his back.

"Where is everybody," he asked.

"Living room. Watching Sarah play 'let's see what I can put in 
my mouth'." I slipped my hand under his shirt and brushed my 
fingers tentatively over one raw nipple, drawing a hiss from 
him. "Have you been using that cream?"

"Yeah. They're still really sensitive though." He moaned when 
my hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, wrapping 
around his half-hard length. 

"Were you dreaming about me," I asked with a smirk. 

"Nope. Brad Pitt."

I froze and stared at him blankly, watching the laughter dance 
in his eyes. "Very funny."

He smiled broadly. "You asked."

I leaned in to kiss him.

"Mmm...Mulder?"

"Yeah," I mumbled between kisses.

"I have to tell you something..."

The sound of somebody clearing their throat drew our attention 
to the doorway, where Will stood awkwardly, his eyes looking 
everywhere but directly at us. "Sydney wanted me to tell you 
dinner'll be ready in ten minutes."

"We'll be right down," I said, trying not to laugh at his 
obvious embarrassment. He ducked back into the hallway and 
disappeared.

Vaughn flipped me onto my back suddenly and gave me a stern 
look. "Why do you keep insisting on turning me into an 
exhibitionist," he asked as he worked the top button of my 
slacks free. 

"It's fun," I teased. "Although since Sarah was born you've 
become a lot harder to fluster."

"Yeah? Well I guess that's what happens when you spend the 
better part of a day with people looking up your 'hoo-hoo'," 
he snarked.

I hissed as he finally freed us both. He straddled me, 
pressing our hard, heated lengths against one another. He 
leaned back and began rocking over me, moaning, his eyelids 
fluttering.

"God, you're beautiful," I moaned, thrusting up against him, 
countering his movements and trying to goad him into moving 
faster.

I came just before he did. Both of us made valiant efforts to 
stay silent but only ended up muffling our groans of pleasure. 
He slumped against my chest. I stroked his back contentedly 
and kissed his forehead. 

"We should get down there before Will gets sent up here again 
and gets an eyeful."

He groaned. "I'll get cleaned up while you change clothes."

I grabbed his arm as he rolled off me and moved to leave the 
bed. "You wanted to tell me something earlier..."

He smiled. "It can wait."

*******

We arrived in the kitchen five minutes later to find Will 
pacing the floor, bouncing Sarah in his arms in a vain effort 
to soothe her fussing before she worked herself into full 
blown cries. Sydney was busy trying to warm her bottle. The 
second Sarah saw Vaughn she tried to climb out of Will's arms, 
as if she could simply jump over into Vaughn's all on her own. 
Will handed her over to his capable hands where she 
immediately latched on to his shirt, clutching fistfuls of 
material and shoving it in her mouth. 

He laughed. "It's coming, sweetie. Hang on."

Sydney handed Vaughn the warmed bottle and he expertly tested 
the milk on his wrist before bringing it to Sarah's mouth. She 
latched on hungrily and settled down in Vaughn's arms, sucking 
contentedly. 

"You know, you really don't need to cook for us every time 
you're here," I said, trying to stay out of Sydney's way as 
she bustled around the kitchen. 

"Yes, I do," she said simply. "I want to give Vaughn a break 
and I've seen the way *you* cook." She smiled. "I'm just 
earning my keep. Will? Get over here and help me with the 
salad."

"Yes mistress," Will teased. 

She swatted at his hand with her wooden spoon. "Stop that."

He laughed. "So when are you guys gonna finally have that 
commitment ceremony," he asked.

"We were thinking we'd wait until Sarah was a little older. 
We'll probably have to leave her with Doggett and Scully while 
we go on our honeymoon. I'm not exactly planning on going 
anywhere...family friendly."

"Well, I guess we know what sort of gifts we should get you," 
Sydney said with a wink.

"Vaughn already has a vibrator," I said dryly. 

"Mulder," Vaughn snapped warningly.

"I was thinking more along the lines of fur-lined cuffs," she 
fired back.

Vaughn groaned. "Syd...don't encourage him."

By the time dinner was ready and the table was set, Sarah had 
finished her bottle. Vaughn threw her feeding towel over his 
shoulder and rearranged her in his arms, patting her back 
gently until she let out the loudest, cutest little burp and 
spit up a little milk on Vaughn, managing to get some on his 
shirt as well as the towel.

I laughed as he tried in vain to mop up the spill. Sarah 
giggled and attempted to stick her fingers in his mouth. He 
gave up on the shirt with a sigh and grabbed her hand, kissing 
the tiny palm and holding it to his chest, cooing nonsense and 
making funny faces at her. 

By the time the table was set and the food was ready, Sarah 
was beginning to nod off, her head tucked against Vaughn's 
neck, her fist halfway in her mouth. I volunteered to take her 
to bed and Vaughn reluctantly handed her over after one last 
kiss to her head, inhaling the scent of her silky hair.

I took her upstairs and laid her in her crib, where she 
immediately began snoring softly. I kissed the tip of her 
nose. "Sleep tight, Princess," I whispered. I picked up the 
baby monitor and returned to the kitchen, setting it on the 
counter. 

"So have you guys talked about having any more kids," Will was 
asking as he plopped down at the table, opposite Vaughn.

"No, but I'm glad you brought it up," Vaughn replied. "There's 
something I need to tell you guys."

Sydney nearly dropped the pot of spaghetti she had been 
dishing out and everybody stared at Vaughn, wide-eyed. "You're 
not..."

He nodded. "I took a pregnancy test this afternoon. It was 
positive."

Sydney abandoned the spaghetti and rushed to Vaughn's side, 
throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 
"Oh, my god, congratulations!"

"That's great, man," Will offered, reaching across the table 
to pat him on the arm. 

I stood frozen in shock for several moments until Sydney let 
go of Vaughn and he looked up at me nervously. "Mulder?"

I jolted back to awareness and sat in my seat next to him, 
drawing him into a kiss. "Are you okay with this," I asked 
cautiously.

He smiled. "I wasn't sure before, but...yeah." He laughed at 
my skeptical expression. "I know I said I'd kill you if you 
did this to me again, but I wasn't exactly myself at the time. 
Besides, Dana promised that the second one would be easier. 
But you have to promise me that after this baby is born, 
you'll get a vasectomy." 

I laughed and hugged him tightly. "I promise, baby."

******

"So, do you want a boy this time," I asked later that night, 
sprawled out in bed beside Vaughn, kissing his stomach 
reverently between words.

"I don't care what it is," he said softly. "If he or she is 
even half as wonderful as Sarah I'll be happy."

I stopped kissing him and just stared up at his face. It could 
have been my imagination, but I could swear he was already 
glowing. 

"If it is a boy, what do you think we should name it?"

He groaned. "Mulder, for the last time, you are not naming our 
children..."

"I was going to suggest William," I interrupted. "After both 
of our fathers."

He looked surprised. Then a warm smile melted slowly onto his 
face. "I like that."

"And if it's another girl, we can name her Willamina."

I laughed as he responded by swatting me on the side of the 
head. 

"I love you."

He smiled in spite of himself. "I love you too. Now come up 
here and give me a real kiss."

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, dear."

******
(5 years later)

"You know I hate you for this, right," Vaughn asked between 
panting breaths, leaning over the back of the rocking chair we 
had bought years ago for the bedroom.

I rubbed his back gently. "I know, baby. Deep breaths."

After William was born, we had been careful to ensure Vaughn 
wouldn't get pregnant again. I had finally gotten my vasectomy 
nearly a year ago, but apparently I hadn't been paying 
attention to the doctor when he told me it would still be a 
while until I was shooting blanks. Not only did I get Vaughn 
pregnant again but it turned out we were having twins. Both 
girls. 

Scully poked her head in the room not long after the 
contraction had passed. "How are we doing in here?"

"I think it's getting close," Vaughn gasped.

Scully stepped into the room and grabbed her gloves from her 
nearby medical bag, reaching under Vaughn's robe to check his 
dilation. "You should be entering transition. Do you want to 
lay down?"

He nodded and Scully and I helped him over to the bed, where 
he leaned against a pile of pillows already set up for him. 

The door Scully had left ajar squeaked softly. "Mommy," a 
small voice called from the hallway. We had coached the kids 
to refer to both me and Vaughn as "Daddy" in public, but as 
long as we were in the house they preferred to call Vaughn 
"Mommy". Vaughn had accepted it years ago, even welcomed it.

"Mommy's kind of busy right now, honey," I called gently. "Why 
don't you go play with your brother and Uncle John?"

She frowned and pushed her lower lip forward in an exaggerated 
pout. "I don't want to play with them."

Scully turned and moved toward her. "Sarah..."

"It's okay," Vaughn interjected. "She can come in here." He 
patted the bed next to him.

Sarah smiled brightly and bounded into the room, crawling up 
onto the bed next to Vaughn. Vaughn groaned and clutched the 
rippling beach ball protruding from his middle. 

"Are they fighting," Sarah asked innocently.

Vaughn laughed. "No, honey, they're just anxious to get out."

She frowned, confused. "Then why don't they just come out?"

"They can't do it on their own, sweetie," I explained. "Mommy 
has to help them."

She blinked at me. "Why?"

"Because that's how babies are born."

She still didn't seem quite satisfied with that answer, but 
she didn't ask any further questions. 

Vaughn's back arched slightly and he visibly held back a cry 
of pain, not wanting to scare Sarah. I stroked his hair back 
and squeezed his hand.

"Are you okay, Mommy," Sarah asked.

Vaughn gasped and panted. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm fine. It just 
hurts."

"Can I kiss it better?"

He chuckled. "I don't think this is the kind of hurt you can 
kiss better. But maybe if you keep me company, it won't be as 
bad." He held out his arm and she eagerly curled against his 
side, kissing his cheek. 

I ran to get some water for him to drink, listening to 
William's giggles drifting from the living room where Doggett 
was watching him play.

When I got back, Vaughn's eyes were glazed almost completely 
and he was absently stroking Sarah's hair with trembling 
fingers, listening to her rattle on about the games she could 
play with her new baby sisters.

"I think it'll be a while before they're old enough to play 
dolls with you," I said gently.

"I can wait," she said defensively.

I held back a laugh, knowing she would grow impatient waiting 
until they were old enough to know better than to swallow 
little plastic Barbie shoes. "Here, baby," I murmured, cupping 
the back of Vaughn's head and helping him drink. 

He reached a shaking hand for me when he had finished half the 
glass. "It's happening fast," he marveled. 

Scully smirked at him. "I told you it would be easier."

I pressed a cool washcloth to his forehead gently and he 
moaned gratefully. 

Sarah lifted her head from Vaughn's chest and watched me 
curiously. "Can I help?"

I hesitated only a moment. "Yeah, sure Princess." I took her 
hand and folded the washcloth into it, guiding her to Vaughn's 
forehead. "Hold that there."

Vaughn tried to smile encouragingly at her, but the effect was 
ruined by a loud groan of pain he wasn't able to hold in. I 
squeezed his hand, holding it to my chest.

It only took a few more contractions before Scully announced 
that Vaughn could begin pushing. Sarah watched, baffled as he 
grunted and strained. I encouraged her to keep bathing his 
forehead, which she did dutifully. 

"Okay, I see the head," Scully announced after a few bouts of 
pushing.

"Is it okay if Sarah looks," I asked Vaughn. He nodded 
wearily. 

Scully motioned for Sarah to join her, giving her a first look 
at her new baby sister.

"Ew," she said, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

Vaughn laughed in spite of the pain and Scully smiled and 
nuzzled Sarah's cheek. "You can help me or help your mommy," 
she offered.

Sarah scooted to Vaughn's side and picked up the washcloth 
again, carefully dabbing Vaughn's forehead. Scully snickered 
and turned back to monitoring the baby. "Okay, Michael. You're 
almost there."

Minutes later, the loud cries of the first twin filled the 
room. Sarah watched in fascination as Scully cut the umbilical 
cord, wrapping her in a blanket before handing her to Vaughn. 

"Is this Elizabeth or Lilly," I asked. We had decided on the 
babies names long ago.

"Lilly," Sarah replied with a definitive nod.

Vaughn smiled and kissed her cheek. "I think so too." 

He gasped and I rushed to take Lilly from his arms. "Stay with 
Mommy, Princess," I said, struggling to soothe the baby as 
Vaughn strained to deliver her twin.

Minutes later, Elizabeth Vaughn-Mulder was born, followed 
almost immediately by the afterbirth. Vaughn slumped against 
the pillows, exhausted and Sarah sat quietly, abandoning the 
washcloth and watching wide-eyed as Scully and I cleaned and 
swaddled the squalling newborns and Scully disposed of towels 
and various medical waste. 

I handed Lilly to Vaughn, who automatically guided her to one 
nipple. She latched on and he grunted. "She bites," he 
muttered.

Scully stood beside the bed, Elizabeth cradled in her arms. 
"Do you think you can feed them both at the same time?"

"I can try," Vaughn replied tentatively, holding out his free 
arm. Scully settled her on his arm and helped her latch on to 
his other nipple.

"What's wrong with their heads," Sarah asked.

"That's the way all babies look when they're born," Vaughn 
explained. 

Sarah gaped at him. "Did I look like that?"

Vaughn chuckled. "Yeah, you did. You grew out of it."

She looked skeptical. "Did Will look like that?"

Vaughn nodded.

"You were just too little to remember," I offered.

Sarah seemed to consider this for a moment, then she shrugged 
and leaned her head on Vaughn's shoulder, watching her sisters 
nurse. She reached to touch Lilly's head.

"Careful," Vaughn reminded her. 

She nodded solemnly and gently ran her finger along the 
crooked line where the two halves of the tiny skull 
overlapped. She tried to hide a sudden yawn and failed 
miserably. 

"I think it's someone's nap time," I said, amused. 

"I do *not* need a nap," she pouted.

Her yawn triggered Vaughn's. "That's too bad because I was 
hoping you'd join me," he said.

The ploy worked like a charm. Although honestly, Vaughn really 
did need the rest after nine hours of labor. Scully and I took 
the babies from Vaughn after they lulled themselves to sleep 
and settled them in the large crib in the corner. 

"I'll wake you when it's time for dinner," I said softly, 
kissing Vaughn's lips. He kissed me back tiredly and hummed an 
acknowledgment. 

"Will mommy have dinner with us," Sarah asked hopefully. 

I pet her hair. "I don't know. We'll see. Maybe we can bring 
dinner up here and eat with him."

She smiled brightly and nodded.

"Get some sleep."

She curled up next to Vaughn, who was mostly asleep already. I 
kissed her hair and Vaughn's forehead before standing up and 
quietly creeping out the door behind Scully.

I was stopped almost immediately by a small bundle of energy 
plowing into my legs. "Daddy!"

I disengaged William from my legs and squatted beside him. 
"Shh! Mommy is sleeping. Let's be quiet so we don't wake him, 
okay?"

"Okay," he said in a loud whisper. "Look what I made!" He 
waved a page ripped from a coloring book, bold scribbles in 
brightly colored crayon covering it, some of it inside the 
lines.

"That's great," I exclaimed softly. "Let's go put it on the 
fridge." Along with about two dozen other pieces of artwork 
made by both children.

Doggett stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for us to 
come down, rubbing Scully's shoulder affectionately as she 
passed him. "Everybody okay," he asked.

I smiled happily. "Never better."

*******
(Three years later)

"Daddy, I know where babies come from, but how do they get 
there," Sarah asked innocently as I finished tucking her in.

I froze and heard Vaughn chuckle from the doorway to Sarah's 
room. "Maybe you should ask your mother," I said hesitantly. 

"Oh, no, you don't," he said, leaning against the door frame 
and watching with amusement. "She asked you."

I shot him a withering glare and struggled to think of a 
tactful way to approach the subject. Sarah waited patiently, a 
curious expression on her face. "Honey...when two people love 
each other...uh..." I faltered and started over. "When two 
grown ups decide to have children together they make a baby in 
the Mommy's tummy through a long, complex process that you'll 
understand when you're older."

It didn't work. 

"But...*how* did you get me in Mommy's tummy?"

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head 
to see Vaughn fighting to hold in his laughter, his shoulders 
shaking violently with the effort.

"When your Mom and I decided we wanted to have kids..." I 
faltered again. 

"Your Dad made love to me," Vaughn piped up. He came over to 
sit on the other side of the bed. "You've seen us hug and 
kiss, right?"

Sarah nodded solemnly.

"It's kind of like that only a little different. It's 
something that's very private that only grown ups do."

Her curious eyes darted between Vaughn and me. "But...most 
Mommies are girls..."

I laughed. "Most boys can't make babies in their tummies but 
your Mommy is very special." I gestured to Vaughn's abdomen. 
"He's got a little pouch in there for carrying babies that 
most boys don't have."

She looked at me, wide eyed. "You don't have one?"

I was no longer able to resist the impulse to pinch her nose, 
making her giggle. "No, I don't. And your brother doesn't 
either, so he won't be able to make babies in his tummy when 
he's older."

"Will I," she asked innocently.

"Yes, but not for a long, long time. When you're a grown up 
like us, you'll be able to have your own babies."

She stared at me in wonder. "So if you and Mommy hug and kiss 
a lot I could have another brother?"

Vaughn practically choked on his restrained laughter.

"No, honey," I explained carefully. "Mommy and I can't make 
any more babies."

She frowned. "Why not?"

"Because Daddy had an operation that prevents him from being 
able to put a baby in Mommy's tummy."

She blinked at me for a long moment. "Why?"

"Because your Dad and I decided that four kids was enough for 
us," Vaughn explained as he got his giggles back under 
control. "You guys were more than we could ever have hoped 
for. We knew we could never have another child as perfect as 
any of you."

She smiled brightly.

"Now go to sleep." Vaughn kissed her forehead and ran his 
fingers through her silky hair before standing up.

"I love you, Mommy," she said sweetly. 

"I love you too, Princess."

"Hey, what about me," I asked with mock offense.

Sarah smiled and sat up, throwing her arms around my neck and 
giving me a big, wet kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Daddy."

I smiled back. "That's more like it." I gave her a kiss and 
she flopped back onto the pillows, curing up on her side and 
closing her eyes.

I pet her hair. "Goodnight, Princess."

"Night, Daddy."

I stepped out into the hall and shut the door softly. "You get 
the next one," I muttered to Vaughn. 

He laughed quietly. Then he turned at a sudden noise and 
looked down the stairs. "Hey, what are you girls doing up?"

I moved to stand next to him and saw the twins, halfway down 
the stairs, looking up at him guiltily. 

"I wanted a glass of water," Lilly said.

"Me too," Lizzie chimed in.

Vaughn looked at me and sighed. "I've got it. You go check on 
Will."

*******

"You realize Sarah's probably going to twist that explanation 
around and assume babies come from kissing, waving a magic 
wand and chanting a spell or something," I said later that 
night as I spooned up to Vaughn in bed.

He chuckled. "Well, she wouldn't be completely wrong, would 
she? I mean, there was a 'magic wand' and chanting involved. 
Mostly to various deities as I recall."

I groaned. "You have a sick mind, Michael."

He laughed and turned his head to kiss me. "And you love me 
for it."

*******
(Two years later)

I glanced at the clock for at least the twentieth time that 
night. Vaughn should have been back from his trip to "San 
Francisco" hours ago. He hadn't done much field work since 
Sarah had been born and he assured me he steered clear of 
anything too dangerous, but that didn't stop me from worrying 
about him whenever the CIA sent him away on a mission. I had 
allowed the kids to stay up well past their bedtime to wait 
for him, but I had finally given up. The twins were just 
finishing brushing their teeth when I heard the muffled sound 
of the garage door going up. Sarah bounded down the hall, her 
bare feet slapping the wooden floor violently. 

"Mom's home," she shouted excitedly. 

The twins stampeded down the stairs after her and Will poked 
his head out of his room to see what all the commotion was 
about.

Vaughn came in the door seconds later, looking exhausted, and 
was nearly bowled over by the girls. He knelt on the floor and 
gathered them into a sloppy group hug, kissing their hair - 
still damp from their showers - and holding them as if he 
could absorb them into his skin. 

"Why aren't you girls in bed," he asked, his voice ragged.

"We were waiting for you, Mommy," Lizzie announced.

I expected him to chew me out for letting the children stay up 
past their bedtime, but when his eyes met mine they didn't 
show anger, disappointment, frustration or any other emotion I 
would have expected. They showed relief, worry and sadness. I 
knew at that moment that something had happened to him on the 
mission but I wouldn't be able to talk to him about it until 
the kids were safely in bed.

"Come on girls, it's past your bedtime," I announced from the 
top of the stairs. "Let's let Mom rest - I'm sure he's tired."

All three girls whined in protest, but their pleas fell on 
deaf ears.

"Bed. Now."

They each reluctantly gave Vaughn one last kiss goodnight and 
climbed the stairs to their rooms. I watched worriedly as 
Vaughn came up after they had left, his shoulders slumped, 
seemingly almost in tears. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "Get the kids in bed first," he murmured, 
his voice just as unsteady as before. 

He disappeared behind the door to our bedroom before I could 
ask anything more.

******

After I had made sure all the kids were in bed, I hurried to 
find Vaughn. 

The bedroom was empty, but the door to the master bathroom had 
been left open and the sound of the shower running poured out. 
I stepped inside tentatively, the steam from the hot water 
instantly making the clothes stick to my body. 

"Vaughn?"

He didn't reply, but I saw movement on the other side of the 
frosted glass. I peeled my clothes off quickly and stepped 
inside the shower.

I gasped when I saw him. He was slumped against the inside 
wall of the shower, letting the hot water pour over his back. 
His torso was a mess of scratches and bruises. A white bandage 
wound around his upper arm had a small amount of blood leaking 
through it.

"Oh, god, Vaughn," I ran my hands over him frantically, 
assessing his injuries. None of them seemed anything more than 
superficial, but there was one dark bruise on his ribs that I 
knew had to hurt like hell. "What happened?"

He reached for me instinctively and I pulled him into my arms. 
He tucked his head against my neck and pressed himself as 
close to me as possible, his chest hitching with unsteady 
breaths. From my new angle I could see more bruises around his 
neck - which had been hidden by the turtleneck shirt he had 
come home wearing. My eyes traced the edges of the bruises, 
outlining the shape of a hand.

I took a deep breath. I knew he needed me to be calm right 
now. "Can you tell me where you really were now?"

"Russia," he whispered. "I got into a fight with a guard." He 
took a deep breath. "It's nothing I haven't done before, 
but...I've never been so scared in my life. All I could think 
about was you and the kids. He could have killed me! If Sydney 
hadn't arrived when she did..." He dissolved into small, 
hiccuping sobs.

I felt the tension in my shoulders loosen slightly. Sydney. Of 
course. If there was anyone I trusted to watch Vaughn's back 
in the field, it was her. I made a mental note to send her 
some flowers or something.

I rubbed his back gently. "You're okay now," I soothed. 

He shook his head. "But what about next time? We can't keep 
doing this! Do you have any idea how worried I am every time 
you go out in the field? If anything happened to us..."

"Stop," I said gently. "You can't think like that. I worry 
about you when you're on a mission too, but we've both been 
especially careful ever since Sarah was born - taking less 
dangerous assignments and staying out of the field as much as 
possible...making sure only one of us is in the field at a 
time. I haven't dropped my gun in at least a year." 

He elbowed me in the gut. "That's not funny."

"Really," I asked, my voice laced with mock surprise. "You 
used to think my jokes were funny."

"Mulder, I'm really not in the mood for jokes right now."

I sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

He pulled back and looked me in the eye. "How can we keep 
doing this? Risking our lives when we have children who depend 
on us."

"People risk their lives every day just by hopping in the car 
and driving to the office. There's a reason they're called 
accidents, Vaughn - nobody ever sees them coming. If you think 
about it too much and try to avoid anything that might be 
dangerous you would spend your life worrying about what might 
happen instead of actually living."

"But..."

I covered his lips with two fingers. "I'm not saying we 
shouldn't be more careful on the job. And if you ever take an 
assignment that you know could put your life in jeopardy I 
will kill you myself and let Scully, Doggett, Will and Sydney 
fight over who gets to take the kids while I'm in prison. I'm 
just saying you can't keep worrying about what *could* happen. 
Just keep being careful and it won't."

He stared at me for a long moment after I had finished 
talking. "When did you become such an optimist?"

I smiled and kissed him lovingly. "I guess you bring out the 
best in me. Now, let's see what we can do about your arm."

*******
(Four years later)

I was coming home from work when my cell phone rang.

"Mulder, can you pick up Will at school," Vaughn asked the 
second I picked up. "I have to bring Sarah home from driver's 
ed practice and then I have to pick up the twins."

I looked at my watch. "Why is Will still at school?"

"He got into a fight with another boy and the teacher gave him 
detention. I figured you'd want to have a talk with him."

I sighed. Whoever said raising girls is easier than raising 
boys was absolutely right. 

A half an hour and several miles of detour later, I pulled up 
in front of the middle school. Will slipped into the car, his 
eyes pointedly avoiding mine.

"You got into a fight," I asked disapprovingly. 

"He started it," Will muttered.

"I don't care who started it, Will, we don't hit people!" 
Unless, of course, it's government work related, I added 
silently. 

"He called you and Mom faggots and said you would rot in 
hell," he practically shouted, finally turning to face me, his 
eyes flashing.

I hesitated. It wasn't really anything I hadn't heard before, 
but it never got any less painful. Hearing it was like a 
physical blow. I mentally shook myself. "It doesn't matter," I 
said stubbornly. "You're smarter than that. You shouldn't be 
stooping to his level."

"He said Mom was a freak of nature."

"I understand your need to defend your mother, but he wouldn't 
want you to do it like this..."

"He said I'm a freak too. He said I should have been drowned 
at birth." 

My stomach clenched. The hatred some parents bred into their 
children never failed to sicken me. "Who is this boy?"

"Jeremy."

"What's his last name?"

"Brushell."

I sighed. That explained it. We had seen Jeremy's parents many 
times at conferences and open houses. They were as ultra 
conservative and holier than thou as they come. They had never 
confronted us directly, but that was mostly because they 
avoided us like the plague, settling for glaring at us from a 
distance. Clearly, however, they had poisoned their only son 
with their hatred of anything they claimed their beloved Bible 
would call "sinful".

I pulled Will into my arms in spite of his resistance. "I'm 
sorry. It's not Jeremy's fault - that's just how his parents 
raised him. It's not fair, but punching him in the face is 
only going to make it worse."

"Made me feel better," he muttered.

I choked back a laugh. "I'm sure it did, but you need to learn 
that fighting is not the way to solve your problems. Talk to 
your mother and I. We can help you come up with ways of 
dealing with kids like him."

He pulled back and looked at me warily. "Does this mean I 
won't be punished?"

"Oh, you're still getting punished," I said as I turned back 
to the wheel and started the engine. "But I'll see if I can 
talk your mother into reducing your sentence."

Will grinned. "Thanks Dad."

I waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, sure. Now buckle your 
seatbelt so we can go home."

*******
(One year later)

Vaughn grunted as I slammed his back against the hotel room 
door. "Mmm...Mulder," he said between kisses.

"Mmm-hmm," I hummed, moving to suck at his neck. 

"Maybe we should take this inside."

I dragged my lips from his neck long enough to catch the 
disapproving look being thrown our way by a passing woman. 
"Point taken. Should I carry you across the threshold?"

"Regardless of what you may tell people, you aren't forty 
anymore. My plans for this honeymoon don't include driving you 
to the emergency room."

"Yeah, well, one of the perks of being a field agent...you 
have to stay in shape." I kissed him while I blindly slipped 
the key in the lock and turned. I braced myself to take on his 
weight and shoved the door open, stepping inside and spinning, 
pressing him against the wall inside and slamming the door 
shut when it bounced back, locking it.

"Impressive," he admitted with an amused smile. "But now who's 
going to get the luggage?"

I groaned and let him drop to his feet. He laughed and kissed 
my cheek. "I'll get it. You go ice that back." 

I swatted his ass as he left the room, but that only made him 
laugh harder.

I was lounging on the bed when he returned several minutes 
later, lugging two heavy bags. "That's okay, I don't need 
help," he said sarcastically.

"Okay," I called back sweetly. 

"Should I dig out your Viagra while I'm over here?"

"Very funny," I responded dryly. "Joke all you want. You're 
not exactly a spring chicken yourself." I caught the tube of 
lubricant he lobbed at me. "And at the rate Sarah's going, we 
may be grandparents sooner than we thought." 

"Come on, it's not that bad," he scoffed as he came over to 
the bed and straddled my lap. 

"She's sixteen and she's already had more boyfriends than you 
had in your entire life."

"She's only had three."

"Exactly."

Vaughn rolled his eyes. "At least she brings them home to meet 
us."

"Yeah, about that...I'm starting to consider getting a 
shotgun."

"Between the two of us we already have five guns. Don't you 
think that's enough firepower?"

"To stop a teenage boy? We may need a tank."

He chuckled. "Don't worry. If the guns don't scare them, I can 
just break their arms."

I smiled. "Now there's the man I married."

He smiled back and kissed me deeply. Then he pulled back and 
looked up as if he had just figured out why I had booked this 
particular room. "Mulder...a mirror above the bed? You didn't 
think that was a bit tacky?"

I nipped at his jaw. "I want you to see how beautiful you are 
when we make love."

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

"No, I'm serious. Human beings are very visual. Watching 
yourself in a mirror during sex is supposed to be very 
arousing." 

He sighed. "I suppose now that we have it, we might as well 
put it to good use," he mumbled, tilting his head to give me 
better access to his neck.

I mentally rolled my eyes and flipped him onto his back, 
spreading his legs and settling myself between them. I kissed 
him a little longer and finally reluctantly sat up so I could 
remove his clothing. He watched in the mirror as I kissed my 
way over every inch of skin as it was revealed.

"See," I asked softly.

He snorted. "Yeah, well, you can't see the stretch marks from 
here."

I traced my fingers along the thin white lines marring the 
skin at his sides. I opened my mouth to say something but he 
cut me off immediately.

"If you say they make me even more beautiful because they're 
the result of me giving birth to four beautiful children I may 
have to throttle you."

My mouth snapped shut and I hesitated. "That's not what I was 
going to say," I protested.

"Oh, really? What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say they're the result of you *carrying* four 
beautiful children."

He slapped me on the side of the head and I laughed. 
"Seriously, honey, I think they're charming."

He snorted in disbelief. "I already married you. You don't 
need to work so hard to get into my pants."

I feigned a look of surprise. "I don't? Oh. My mistake." I 
shrugged and bent to take his half-hard length in my mouth, 
cutting off any further argument.

He moaned and I looked up through my lashes to see him close 
his eyes, his head lolling to one side. I stopped and lifted 
my head.

"No, baby, I want you to watch."

He groaned and opened his eyes, looking up in the mirror with 
a sigh.

"Keep watching."

"All right. Just get on with it."

"Yes, sir," I muttered before bending to continue the blowjob.

He moaned and rolled his hips rhythmically, restlessly 
following my movements. I spread his thighs as wide as I dared 
with firm hands and abandoned his cock to give equal attention 
to his dripping channel.

"Do you have any idea," I asked between licks to the small, 
delicate folds protecting the slick opening. "How amazing you 
looked today. I came very close to throwing you down on a 
table and fucking you right in front of everybody."

He groaned. "Yeah, I figured that when you kissed me like a 
sex-starved nymphomaniac," he muttered. "I'm just glad you 
finally got yourself under control. My mother is open-minded, 
but she's also old. I was afraid she'd have a heart attack if 
you took your little possessive display any further."

I rolled my eyes and lifted my head long enough to say "your 
mother told me to have fun on the honeymoon and then winked 
and patted me on the back. She's hardly a blushing flower."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like her." He wiggled his 
hips. "Are you gonna finish what you started?"

I smirked. "Yes, dear." I reached for the tube of lubricant 
and a condom but he grabbed my hand, halting the movement.

"No. It'll take too long. I want you now."

My cock surged and I crawled up the bed eagerly, spreading his 
legs and plunging in his slick opening with no further 
preamble.

He grunted and dug his nails into my shoulders. I held still, 
giving him a chance to adjust.

"Let me know when you're ready," I murmured between nibbling 
kisses to his jaw. 

"Mmm..." He shifted under me, lifting and stretching his legs 
to alleviate the pressure, wrapping them around my waist. "Go 
ahead."

I rolled my hips, thrusting gently and feeling the muscles 
loosen and welcome me inside. He groaned and rolled his hips 
in a steady counterthrust.

He stretched his arms toward the headboard and gasped as he 
caught sight of our reflection in the mirror. I smirked and 
pulled almost all the way out of him, thrusting back in 
slowly, my movements exaggerated so he could get the full 
benefit of seeing what was happening in the giant mirror.

"See?"

He moaned. "Save the 'I told you so'. Just fuck me."

I pulled his knees higher and dug my elbows into the mattress 
on either side of his head, giving me better leverage and a 
better angle as I accelerated my thrusts. He clung to my 
shoulders, his fingers digging into the muscle with every 
thrust. His eyes remained fixed on the mirror and I wondered 
if he was as fascinated by the flush spreading across his skin 
and the unrestrainedly passionate expression on his face as I 
was. A stream of incoherent noises spilled from his lips as he 
approached climax.

"You're so beautiful," I murmured, letting my lips brush his 
ear. "It's too bad you can't see the color of your eyes from 
here. They usually turn almost black the moment before you 
come. It's amazing."

He whimpered and writhed, arching his back to rub his 
neglected cock against my stomach. I ground my hips down into 
his harder and he moaned, his eyes fluttering. 

I levered myself up a bit. "Touch yourself."

He groaned and reached his hand between our bodies, wrapping 
it around his swollen cock and stroking frantically. I smirked 
and sped up my thrusts, trying to match his rhythm. 

Vaughn's back arched again and his eyes fell shut. I pinched 
his chin between trembling fingers, forcing him to look up. 
"Keep watching, baby. I want you to see how beautiful you are 
when you come."

He gave a soft cry and forced his eyes open, watching in the 
mirror as he raced toward orgasm.

He came with a wail, his cock erupting over his stomach and 
hand, his tight channel clenching wetly around me. I groaned 
but held back firmly, knowing he would be far from finished. 
One of the advantages of getting older, I had discovered, was 
that it wasn't nearly as difficult for me to delay 
gratification. It was especially lucky that I had more control 
over my pleasure because Vaughn, it seemed, was hitting his 
second peak of sexual performance. He couldn't get an erection 
any faster than me, but he could still have multiple orgasms 
and he was always eager for sex.

I slowed my thrusts, holding him close as he came back down, 
kissing him gently.

He whimpered in protest as I pulled out of him suddenly. I 
grabbed a handful of Kleenex and wiped his juices from my 
cock, slipping a condom on in record time and greasing myself 
with a generous amount of lubricant. Vaughn took the cue and 
hitched his legs up higher, exposing his other entrance, 
glistening with fluids that had followed the natural course of 
gravity. I slid two fingers inside, the muscles - loosened 
from his orgasm - easily accepting the invasion.

He groaned. "Do it now."

I shook my head in amazement. "If you say so," I muttered, 
drawing his knees as far up as I knew he could comfortably 
hold them and shoving myself deep inside the winking opening.

His back arched and he cried out, squirming beneath me.

I froze and cradled his head in my hands. "Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head. "It's just...been awhile," he gasped. 
"Don't move."

I started to pull out slowly, trying not to cause any further 
pain. "I don't want to hurt you, baby. Why don't we just..."

I was flat on my back with Vaughn straddling my lap, my cock 
still firmly embedded inside him, before I had a chance to 
register his movement.

"I said don't move," he growled.

My cock twitched inside him. I always loved it when he got 
bossy.

I steadied his hips as he began to ride me slowly, his snug 
passage gradually relaxing and welcoming me inside. He braced 
himself against my chest and moaned.

"Do you see," he panted.

I looked up in the mirror and gasped, hypnotized by the sight 
of Vaughn's back, glistening with sweat, the muscles rippling 
under the taut skin as he moved over me. I realized suddenly 
that he hadn't been watching himself in the mirror earlier - 
he had been watching me.

"Do you get it now," he asked. 

I nodded stupidly. 

"Good." He leaned back, his hands resting on either side of my 
hips. "Now help me out here. And don't come yet. I'm not 
finished with you."

I groaned and reached out to slide two fingers into his 
drenched opening, rubbing insistently against his prostate. He 
moaned and rocked in my lap, his movements awkward because of 
the angle.

I drew my knees up so my feet were flat against the bed. "Lift 
up a little," I panted. 

He raised up on his knees and I snapped my hips up, fucking 
him from below. He cried out and rocked against me harder.

He came fairly quickly, his muscles squeezing my cock, his 
juices coating my hand. I rolled him onto his back and pulled 
out, removing the condom and plunging back inside his front 
opening before he had a chance to recover. He shouted and 
clung to my back, holding me tightly as I fucked him with 
unrestrained strength.

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk without limping," 
I growled in his ear. "And then I'm going to fuck you some 
more."

"Are you sure...you can handle it...old man," he asked between 
gasping breaths. He yelped as I responded with a particularly 
brutal snap of my hips. 

"Keep that up and I might just leave you here," I grumbled.

Vaughn laughed breathlessly. "I'm sorry baby. Keep going. I'm 
almost there."

I leaned back and brought his ankles over my shoulders. He 
keened as the angle forced me into contact with his prostate 
and within a few thrusts he was shuddering his way through his 
third orgasm. 

"That was incredible," he gasped minutes later as we lay side 
by side on the bed.

I hummed in agreement and entwined my right hand with his 
left, bringing it to my lips and kissing the simple gold band 
on his ring finger reverently. "So how does it feel to be 
married?"

He rolled onto his side, facing me. "Honestly? It doesn't feel 
any different. I've thought of you as my husband for years. 
This just made it official to the world."

I rolled onto my side and kissed him, smiling broadly. "Me 
too."

*******
(16 years ago)

I watched Vaughn skate circles around me, marveling at the way 
he could look almost graceful in spite of his advanced state 
of pregnancy.

"No, you have to bend your knees," he instructed. He slid to a 
stop in front of me. "Here, let me show you." He positioned 
himself in front of me, wrapping my arms around him, his hands 
covering mine on the well-used hockey stick. The 
ridiculousness of the scenario was not lost on me.

"Bend your knees," he repeated.

I followed his lead, letting him guide my hands.

"It's all in the wrist," he said as he guided me through a 
slow swing. "You feel that?"

"Hmmm..." I nuzzled his neck, kissing it softly. 

"Mulder," he scolded. 

"Mmm-what?"

"Pay attention. You can do that later."

I sighed heavily. "Fine."

He guided me through a couple more practice swings and then 
lined the stick up with the puck. Then he faltered suddenly, 
his hands slipping from mine with a sharp gasp. I let go of 
the stick, vaguely registering the sound of it clattering 
noisily to the ice as I wrapped my hands around his chest 
tightly, instinctively holding him steady.

"Are you okay?"

"The baby kicked," he gasped.

"Really?" My hands went to his abdomen instantly and he guided 
them to the right spot. I waited, holding my breath for 
several long seconds before I felt a ripple under the 
stretched taut flesh, followed by a tiny jab to my palm.

"There," he said. "Did you feel that?"

I smiled. "Yeah." I wanted to say something more but I was at 
a loss for words. All the time I had spent nursing Vaughn 
through morning sickness - feeding him dry crackers, holding 
his head in my lap and pressing cool washcloths to his 
forehead, feeling helpless as I listened to him moan miserably 
- this one moment made it all worth it. I hoped there would be 
more moments like this.

He turned his head and I got the full effect of his gorgeous, 
beaming smile. "I love you," he said softly.

I smiled back. "I love you too, baby."

******
(Present)

I came out of the bathroom to find Vaughn pulling his cell 
phone from one of the bags. He froze, the phone half-flipped 
open, a guilty look on his face.

"I thought we agreed: no worrying about the kids this week."

He sighed. "I know, but isn't it driving you crazy?"

"It's only been a few hours since we saw them," I pointed out. 
The plane had left early in the morning. With the time 
difference, it was almost bedtime for them, but it was still 
the same day. "I have every confidence our friends will be 
able to handle them." Will and Sydney were staying at our 
house for a few days. Doggett and Scully would be taking over 
for them when they went back to LA.

Vaughn threw his arms around my neck and looked me in the eye. 
"Let me put this another way. If I don't call them, it will 
drive *me* crazy."

I sighed. "Fine. Put it on speaker."

He smiled broadly and kissed me. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, just make it quick."

He dialed eagerly and put the phone on speaker. The line was 
picked up after a couple rings and Sarah's voice filled the 
room.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Princess, we were just calling to check on you," Vaughn 
greeted.

"Mom? But you guys just left this morning..."

"That's what I tried to tell him," I cut in.

"Is that Mom and Dad," Will's voice asked in the background. 
"Let me talk to 'em." There was a small scuffle and our son's 
voice came on the line. "Aunt Sydney wants to know if you 
opened the present she and Uncle Will got for you yet."

Vaughn groaned. We had brought the present with us, unopened. 
We didn't know what it was, but judging from the smirk on 
Sydney's face when she handed it to us we thought it was best 
to not open it in mixed company.

"No, not yet," I replied over the sounds of another small 
scuffle.

"Give me the phone, you loser," we heard Sarah say in the 
background. "Why don't you go play in traffic or something," 
she muttered as she returned the phone to her ear. 

"Hey, be nice to your brother," Vaughn scolded.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "So how's Santa Barbara?"

"Beautiful," I said. "Of course, we haven't had a chance to 
see anything much outside of the hotel room yet."

She groaned. "Please. Spare me the details."

"I want to talk to Dad," a different voice shouted in the 
background.

Sarah sighed. "Hang on." 

There was a shuffle and the new voice came on the line. "Dad?"

"Hey, Lilly," I responded.

Vaughn shook his head and mouthed "Lizzie". At the same 
moment, from over 5,000 miles away, our daughter said "It's 
Lizzie, Dad." I would never understand how Vaughn was able to 
tell the twins apart by their voices alone, but then he was 
the one who had given birth to them. He shared a bond with all 
of the children that was deeper than my own.

"I knew that," I bluffed. "I'm just teasing you."

I could picture her rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Uncle Will 
told me to tell you that the FBI couldn't find a drunk boy at 
a frat party. What does that mean?"

Vaughn's lips pressed into a thin line, his shoulders quaking 
with his barely repressed laughter. I gave him a withering 
look. As an FBI agent surrounded by CIA agents I was always 
fielding jokes about agency competency.

"Tell you what, next time Uncle Will says something like that, 
you tell him your Dad said the CIA wouldn't recognized a 
terrorist if it walked into Langley."

Vaughn swatted my arm.

"Okay," Liz said brightly before handing the phone back to her 
big sister and scampering off.

"You guys are being good for Aunt Sydney, right," Vaughn 
asked.

Sydney and Will, her husband of eight years now, were 
expecting their second child in a couple months. In Sydney's 
advanced state of pregnancy, flying to Virginia had been out 
of the question, so she and Will and their daughter Isabelle 
had driven the entire 5,000 miles from LA so they could attend 
our wedding. Vaughn had fretted over Sydney from the moment 
she had arrived to the moment we had stepped on the plane to 
California.

Sarah sighed. "Yes, Mom. She was fine when you left and we 
haven't done anything to her."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Sure." She drew the phone from her mouth and shouted "Sydney! 
Mom wants to talk to you!"

"I'm right here, Sarah," Sydney's muffled voice replied. "You 
don't have to yell."

The phone changed hands and Sydney greeted us with a bright 
"So, have you guys opened our present yet?"

Vaughn groaned. "Not yet, no."

She made a frustrated noise. "Come on, the anticipation is 
killing me!"

"Tell you what, the second we hang up, I'll go dig it out and 
we'll open it," I promised.

"Good. Just do me a favor and don't think of me when you use 
it."

Vaughn groaned. "Thank you. That confirmed my suspicions."

Sydney laughed and then made a noise of protest as the phone 
was snatched from her suddenly. "It is *on*, man," Will Tippin 
said. "Bring it!"

"Sure thing," I fired back. "I hope you get good health 
insurance."

There was a scuffle as Sydney wrestled the phone back from 
Will and told him to behave himself.

"We were just calling to make sure everything was going okay," 
Vaughn said when she was back on the line.

"Since you left this morning? Yeah, everything's fine. Relax, 
Vaughn. Enjoy your vacation and try not to worry about the 
kids. We have everything under control."

"Hey, quit throwing knives at your sister," a muffled voice 
shouted.

"Very funny Will," Sydney deadpanned. "Now be a good boy and 
go check on Isabelle." Will muttered something and she 
giggled. "Yeah, and don't you forget it," she called as he 
apparently left the room. "I'd better go. Have fun you guys. 
And don't call here again unless one of you is hurt or in 
jail."

Vaughn rolled his eyes at me. "Okay, thanks Syd."

"I mean it."

"Don't worry, Syd, I'll keep him busy," I vowed.

"You'd better."

Vaughn turned off the phone reluctantly and looked at his 
watch. "Our dinner reservation is in an hour. You should get 
dressed."

I ignored him and started digging through one of the 
suitcases, unearthing Sydney's present. 

"Mulder..."

"You promised," I reminded him. "Besides, it'll give us 
something to look forward to later."

Vaughn groaned. "Fine, but hurry up."

He groaned even louder when we opened the box to find a large, 
reversible, adjustable strap-on vibrator with ridges designed 
to massage the G-spot...or prostate as the case may be.

"You have some sick friends, baby," I smirked. 

My eyes fell on the small remote trigger at the bottom of the 
box and a wicked thought came to me. "I've got an idea."

********

"I can't believe I let you talk me  into this," Vaughn 
groaned, leaning over the bed and spreading his legs as I 
pushed our new toy inside him. It had taken a lot of begging, 
but I had finally gotten him to agree to wear the vibrator all 
night.

"Come on baby, where's your sense of adventure," I teased. 
"Hold this."

He reached down to hold the end of the vibrator steady while I 
strapped the harness around him and tightened the buckle. He 
grunted. "I think she bought the biggest one she could find."

"Nah, I'm sure there's one bigger. Can you walk?"

I steadied him as he straightened and slowly turned around. He 
held back a whimper and took several deep breaths. "Yeah, 
just...give me a minute."

I waited while he breathed and adjusted to the feel of the 
foreign object inside him. Finally, he took a tentative step 
and groaned as the vibrator shifted.

"You okay?"

He gave me a stiff nod. "I'll be fine. Get dressed."

I got dressed quickly while he paced the room, getting himself 
used to the feeling of fullness. Once he was moving 
comfortably, I picked up the remote trigger and quickly 
flipped it on and off.

He gasped, his knees buckling slightly. "Oh, god," he 
whimpered.

"Sorry. Just testing it out."

He grunted and held his hand out. "Give it to me."

I grinned and slipped the remote into my pocket instead. 
"Let's get you dressed."

"Mulder," he said warningly. "I swear if you make me come in 
the middle of the restaurant I will rip your balls off."

I chuckled and retrieved a pair of his boxer briefs. "I 
promise I'll behave myself."

********

Vaughn volunteered to drive to the restaurant, no doubt on the 
assumption that I wouldn't play with the vibrator controls for 
fear of getting us into an accident. He was partially correct. 
I only turned it on at every traffic light.

"Have you got it out of your system yet," he muttered as we 
pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

"For now," I chuckled.

We got through dinner without any further...incident. 
Regardless, Vaughn sat awkwardly and fidgeted almost the 
entire time. Not obviously, but enough for someone who knew 
him as well as I did to notice. 

"I feel like an exhibitionist," he muttered at one point.

"Relax baby, nobody will notice," I assured him.

"How badly flushed am I?"

I reached across the small table to squeeze his hand. "You're 
not. Don't worry."

"Then why does it feel like everybody's staring at me," he 
muttered.

I laughed. "It's just your imagination. Relax. I'll make it 
all worth your while later, I promise."

He groaned and shifted slightly in his seat, his breath 
catching as the movement made him aware of the vibrator inside 
him. "Don't," he whispered.

"Don't what," I asked innocently, keeping my voice low enough 
that people at nearby tables wouldn't be able to hear. "Don't 
talk about how I'm going to rip that thing out of you and fuck 
you until you scream?"

"Mulder," he yelped, his voice low and strained, his face a 
mixture of horror and anger.

"What?" I gave him my best innocent look.

He opened his mouth but didn't get a chance to say whatever it 
was he wanted to say because the waiter arrived with our food 
at that moment.

Dinner was rather uneventful, except for the moment when a 
woman walking past our table on her way out flashed me a smile 
and a thumbs-up.

"You know her," Vaughn asked.

"No, but I think she's congratulating us," I replied, 
indicating the wedding ring on my left hand and winking at 
him. I was reminded again of how much more open minded the 
people of Southern California could be.

After dinner, Vaughn excused himself to go to the bathroom. I 
waited until he was about halfway there before digging the 
remote trigger from my pocket and tapping it once, quickly.

Vaughn stumbled into a table and apologized to the couple 
sitting there, obviously embarrassed. Then he hurried to the 
bathroom without a backward glance, his posture stiff. 

I waited a couple minutes and followed him.

He was alone in the men's room, standing at the sink splashing 
water on his face. I leaned against the wall and casually 
pulled out the remote before he even noticed I was there. He 
gasped and gripped the edges of the sink as I turned the 
vibrator on.

"Mulder," he gasped, his hips jerking as if trying in vain to 
escape the stimulation. "Stop."

I turned off the vibrator and dragged him into the nearest 
stall before he had a chance to recover. I pressed him against 
the wall and kissed him hungrily while I unbuttoned his 
slacks, pushing them and his underwear down around his knees. 
He whimpered into my mouth as I wrapped my hand around his 
engorged cock. I reached my other hand further back to 
manipulate the vibrator gently, flipping the manual switch on 
the end. He moaned and dug his fingers into my shoulders, 
clinging to me as his knees went weak with pleasure.

"I don't think I can make it through dessert," he gasped into 
my mouth.

"That's okay, I was planning on having dessert at the hotel."

He groaned and rocked his hips steadily against my hands. It 
didn't take long before he was gasping and clutching at my 
shoulders, his eyes glassy with pleasure. I dropped to my 
knees and took him in my mouth, swallowing his semen as he 
came with a shudder, knowing he would kill me if it stained 
his suit. I turned off the vibrator as he came back down and 
supported him with a firm grip on his hips. He stroked my hair 
somewhat clumsily and smiled down at me.

"Can you spread your legs a little, baby," I asked softly. He 
did and I gently lapped away the wetness leaking from his 
stuffed channel. He whimpered and the muscles in his thighs 
twitched.

The door to the bathroom opened and Vaughn's fingers dug 
painfully into my shoulders. We both froze as the newcomer 
entered a stall and shut the door. I gave Vaughn one last 
quick lick and pulled his pants back up, letting him help me 
to my feet.

I pulled him into my arms and rubbed his back. "You okay," I 
whispered in his ear, my voice low enough that the other man 
wouldn't be able to hear me. He nodded tightly. I kissed the 
soft skin below his ear. "Okay. I'm going to go pay. Take as 
long as you need."

He nodded and kissed my cheek.

I flushed the toilet and stepped out of the stall, hearing 
Vaughn click the lock back into place as I moved to wash my 
hands.

I arrived back at the table just as the waiter was bringing 
the check. I reached for my wallet and froze. My pocket was 
empty. I searched every pocket I had but I found nothing. Even 
the remote trigger for the vibrator was gone.

"I know I have it here somewhere," I told the waiter 
nervously. 'I did bring it with me, didn't I?' I thought 
frantically. 

"Looking for this?"

I looked up as Vaughn slid into his seat, holding my wallet up 
between two fingers, a satisfied look on his face. "You left 
it in the men's room."

I stared at him for a long moment before taking it, digging 
out my credit card to hand to the waiter. I knew I hadn't 
really left it in the men's room. Vaughn was sending me a 
message. Somehow he had managed to lift the remote trigger 
from me. He took my wallet as well and made a show of giving 
it back to me so I would know he had done it.

"Point taken," I muttered as the waiter left to run my card.

He smirked. "Good."

"Can I have it back now?"

He grinned and sipped at his water. "Not a chance."

******

The second we were in the car I pulled him over the console 
into a passionate kiss. 

"I don't know if I can make it all the way back to the hotel," 
I murmured. 

He groaned and tilted his head to give me better access. After 
a minute or so he pulled back slightly. "Mulder," he hummed 
against my lips.

"Mmm-hmm?"

"If you don't take your hand out of my pocket, I'll break it."

I sighed and broke the kiss, settling back in my seat, putting 
on my seatbelt and starting the engine. "You can't blame me 
for trying."

He laughed and drew the small remote from his pocket as I 
pulled the car out of the parking lot. He turned it over again 
and again in his hands as an idea seemed to formulate in his 
mind.

"Keep your hands on the wheel," he said. Then he flipped the 
switch.

His head dropped back against the headrest and he moaned. "Oh, 
god...Mulder..."

I quickly punched the button that would lock all the car doors 
lest he accidentally clutch the door handle and open his. I 
watched his hips roll in a mock thrusting motion from the 
corner of my eye. 

His head lolled to the side. "It feels so good," he murmured.

I ground my teeth and clutched the steering wheel tightly, my 
knuckles beginning to turn white. I knew this was his way of 
getting revenge on me. It struck me - as it had many times 
before - how creative and cruel Vaughn could be.

"You started this," Vaughn reminded me as if he could read my 
thoughts.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," I thought with a sigh. "When 
we get back to the hotel, I'm going to rip that thing out of 
you and fuck you until you scream," I vowed, my voice a low, 
rough rasp.

Vaughn moaned and fiddled with the remote clumsily. "What does 
this button do," he asked breathlessly. He pressed it and 
gasped, his hips jerking violently.

I risked a brief glance at him. "It's a three-speed, isn't 
it?"

He made an affirmative noise and clutched the edges of his 
seat restlessly. 

"You know..." I began. "The straps on that thing are 
reversible..."

He caught on to my train of thought immediately. "Oh, god 
yes," he breathed.

I let go of the wheel with one hand and coaxed the remote from 
his slackening grip, pushing the button that would take it to 
its highest speed. He gasped and stopped moving for an eternal 
moment. Then he screamed, his hips pulsing violently in time 
with the waves of his orgasm. 

By the time he was finished we were just pulling into the 
hotel parking lot. I flipped off the vibrator and turned in my 
seat, pulling him into my arms and kissing him passionately. 

"Can you walk up to the room?"

He groaned. "Yeah, just give me a minute."

I smiled. "See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

He glared at me but said nothing.

*********

Vaughn moaned as I slipped a third finger in his clenching 
opening, working to stretch the muscles so they would easily 
accept my cock. Vaughn, already naked and on all fours in the 
middle of the bed, thrust back into my hand impatiently. 

"Need you now," he gasped.

He hissed as I twisted my hand roughly and tapped the vibrator 
still firmly lodged in his vagina through the thin layers of 
skin. "I'm sorry baby, but I'm not going to risk hurting you."

He groaned. "Hurry up then."

I paused and leaned over him, turning his face so I could look 
him in the eye. "I want to do this right. I don't want to have 
to take you to the hospital because I tore you open."

He grumbled something in French under his breath and sighed. 
"Fine."

By the time I felt I had him sufficiently stretched he was 
almost completely lost in his pleasure, his hips rocking in a 
mindless rhythm.

I rolled him on his back and kissed him hungrily. He moaned 
and spread his legs wide, tilting his hips toward me 
invitingly. "Do it," he panted.

I unrolled a condom over my cock as quickly as I could manage 
and lined myself up with the clenching opening. I pressed 
forward slightly - not enough to fully penetrate but enough 
for him to feel the stretch.

"Relax baby," I whispered in his ear.

"I'm trying," he gasped.

I rocked back and forth gently, massaging the opening. He 
moaned again and went limp beneath me. "Yes..."

I pushed forward suddenly, burying the wide head of my cock 
inside him. He cried out, his nails digging painfully into my 
back. 

I froze. "Is this too much?"

He shook his head with a grimace. "Keep going."

"I don't want to hurt you..."

He wrapped his legs around my hips and pulled hard, throwing 
me off balance and forcing me to slide a good two inches 
deeper. I felt the vibrator shift inside him to accommodate 
the intrusion. He shouted and writhed beneath me, but this 
time I recognized the overwhelming pleasure warring with the 
pain for prominence on his face.

I hovered on my elbows over him. "Breathe, baby."

He blew out a noisy breath and whimpered. "It hurts..."

I kissed his temple. "We don't have to do this."

He shook his head. "You pull out and I'll kill you."

I sighed. "Baby, you don't have to play Tough Guy..."

"I gave birth to four kids," he grumbled. "I think I can 
handle a little pain."

"Are you going to use the 'I gave birth to four kids' card in 
every argument?"

"I'd like to see *you* try to push four bowling balls through 
a garden hose."

I laughed. "Okay baby. Point taken. But this isn't childbirth 
- it shouldn't hurt."

He blew out a loud, exasperated breath. "Would you do it 
before I explode?"

I leaned back to get a better angle and pushed forward 
slightly, feeling his muscles give a little more. He 
whimpered.

'It's like a band-aid,' I thought. 'If I do it fast it'll hurt 
less.' "Relax," I said out loud.

"I'm trying," he moaned.

I felt his muscles slacken a bit and thrust forward, burying 
myself to the hilt in one plunge. 

He stiffened, his mouth open in a silent scream. I held still, 
groaning as his overstretched muscles clamped down on me, 
squeezing me unbelievably tight. "Are you okay," I asked 
between gasping breaths.

"Oh, god, MOVE," he cried.

I quickly undid the harness holding the vibrator inside him 
and wound the straps around my own waist, adjusting the device 
so that the vibrator jutted out just above my own cock. I 
pulled out about an inch and gave an experimental thrust. 
Vaughn yelped and clutched my back. I took that as my cue to 
keep going and pulled almost all the way out, pushing back in 
slowly and steadily. Vaughn stilled suddenly and came with a 
long, drawn out cry, his tight channel squeezing me 
mercilessly. 

I held him as he came back down, his whole body trembling from 
the force of his orgasm. 

"Too much foreplay," I asked, brushing a few stray hairs from 
his temple. 

He nodded.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," he panted. "Just...give me a minute."

I rolled onto my side, relieving the pressure on my elbows, 
managing to take him with me without sacrificing our 
connection. "How does it feel," I asked.

He groaned. "I'm so full I feel like I'm gonna burst."

"I didn't tear you, did I?"

"No...I don't think so." He moved experimentally and groaned. 
"Oh, god it feels incredible."

I kissed his forehead and held him close. "Let me know when 
you're ready."

He took a couple more deep breaths and rolled me onto my back, 
straddling my lap. "I'm ready."

It only took a minute of him riding me before we were both 
moaning and thrusting mindlessly, lost in pleasure. He reached 
for the manual trigger on the vibrator and I grabbed his hand, 
halting his progress. 

"If you do that I'm gonna come," I gasped.

He moaned. "So will I."

I groaned and let go of his hand. He flipped the switch and we 
both gasped as it flared to life. He rode me faster, his 
movements growing sloppy and frantic. I raised my knees, my 
counterthrusts growing violent as I neared completion. 

Vaughn stilled suddenly, his eyes rolling back in his head, 
his body jerking with the waves of orgasm, his mouth open in a 
silent scream. I stilled, letting the feel of the vibrator 
through the thin layer of skin and the squeezing of his 
muscles carry me over the threshold into blinding hot 
pleasure.

I turned off the vibrator once I was back in control of my 
senses. Vaughn collapsed on top of me and moaned in 
halfhearted protest as I rolled him onto his back and gently 
pulled out.

I staggered to the bathroom on wobbling knees to retrieve a 
washcloth, returning to the bed to clean him of the sticky 
remnants of sex. He hissed and flinched as the rough cloth 
abraded his oversensitive skin.

"Sorry," I murmured.

He hummed and held his hand out to me. I quickly finished 
cleaning us both off and chucked the cloth in the direction of 
the bathroom and the vibrator on the bedside table before 
cuddling up to him in bed, arms and legs tangling together 
intimately. 

"Have I told you I love you today," I asked drowsily.

He smiled. "Yes, but it doesn't hurt to say it again."

I kissed him. "I love you," I murmured against his lips.

His smile widened. "I love you too." He combed his fingers 
through my hair the way he always did with the kids when he 
wanted to lull them to sleep. "Get some rest."

I hummed and snuggled closer to him, dropping into a deep, 
dreamless sleep almost embarrassingly fast.

*******
(The next day)

I found Vaughn standing on the balcony in a bathrobe and 
slippers, watching the waves crash on the shore below. I 
wrapped my arms around him from behind and nuzzled his neck.

"This is what I miss most about California," he sighed. "Have 
you ever seen anything more beautiful?"

"Nope," I mumbled against his skin.

He snorted. "You're not even looking."

"Yes I am," I said indignantly, nibbling my way down his neck 
and across his shoulder.

"Mulder, can you try to think of something other than sex?"

I sighed and stopped my attentions, resting my chin on his 
shoulder and watching the seagulls circle over the pounding 
surf. "You're a hopeless romantic."

He laughed and snuggled deeper into my embrace. After a minute 
he began swaying unconsciously with the rhythm of the waves.

"How about tonight we take a nice long walk on the beach," I 
offered.

He smiled. "That sounds nice..."

"Then we can find a nice, secluded spot and I can fuck you 
into the sand," I added.

He elbowed me lightly. "Mulder!"

I laughed and coaxed his hands open, entwining my fingers with 
his. "I'm kidding...sort of." In all honesty, Vaughn had me 
wrapped around his finger. I would do anything and everything 
to make him happy and he knew it. In fact, going to Santa 
Barbara for our honeymoon had been all his idea. I just made 
the reservations.

He turned his head to kiss me. "Thank you."

******
(That night)

"Oh god," Vaughn moaned, his head falling back against the 
giant palm tree as he cock erupted in my mouth. I nursed him 
through the aftershocks and eased away, drawing my fingers 
from his dripping opening and licking them clean.

I grunted as I stood up, my knees protesting the abuse despite 
the soft sand that had cushioned them. I kissed him and he 
moaned as he tasted himself on my tongue.

"I didn't hurt you, did I," I asked softly, pulling him away 
from the rough bark and running my hands gently down his back.

"Mmm-no. I'm good. Thank you."

I smiled and kissed him deeply. "Let's get you back to the 
hotel before you drop."

He groaned. "You mean we can't sleep here?"

"There are a lot of things I'd do for you. Spending the night 
sleeping on powdered rock isn't one of them."

He groaned. "And here I thought you loved me."

I swatted his backside. "Ha ha," I said dryly. "Now let's go. 
I don't want to have to carry you."

*******
(The next morning)

I woke early to the call - actually scream - of nature. I 
carefully detangled myself from Vaughn and rushed to answer 
it.

I stopped in the doorway to the bathroom on my way back and 
took in the sight of my husband sprawled on the bed, sleeping 
peacefully. The early morning sunlight was only half muted by 
the light curtains, casting him in a pale glow. The bedsheet 
rode low on his hips, just barely concealing his soft, sated 
length. His bare skin was randomly scattered with angry 
looking red splotches - especially around his neck - where my 
five o clock shadow had abraded him. He looked so much younger 
when he slept...he looked both purely innocent and completely 
debauched. He really was beautiful, stretch marks and all.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you coming back to 
bed," he asked sleepily.

I smiled and climbed back into bed. "I didn't think you were 
awake."

He hummed and wrapped his arms around me. I nudged my knee 
between his thighs and coaxed them open, slipping my hand 
between his legs to find tissues wet and swollen from sleep 
and earlier activity. He groaned and bucked into my hand, his 
cock stirring with lazy interest. "You're gonna kill me."

I licked at one dark nipple, coaxing it to a stiff peak. "I'm 
sure there are worse ways to go."

He groaned louder and squirmed under my increasing attentions, 
grinding his stirring length into the muscles of my thigh. 
"How can you still do this to me?" He moaned lustily. "I feel 
like a slut."

I smiled against his shoulder. "But you're my slut," I said 
huskily, pressing a kiss to the warm skin. 

He whimpered as I guided my newly hardened length into his 
slick channel with practiced ease. "God, that feels good..."

I rolled my hips in slow, lazy thrusts. He matched my rhythm, 
wrapping his legs around my waist.

"We have to do something besides lay around and fuck today," 
he muttered.

I gave him a mock pout. "I thought that's what honeymoons were 
for."

He groaned. "We didn't fly clear across the country to spend 
the entire week in the hotel...or fucking on the beach or in 
restaurant bathrooms," he added as I opened my mouth.

"Fine," I grumbled. "But tonight I'm tying you to the bed and 
fucking you until you pass out."

He rolled his eyes and whimpered as my cock hit at just the 
right angle. "Fine," he squeaked.

"Are you gonna come?"

"Keep doing that and I will," he gasped, arching his back and 
gripping my shoulders tightly.

I smiled and rocked harder. It didn't take him long to come. 
He lay trembling beneath me as I followed seconds later. 

I lay on top of him as I recovered. He welcomed the weight and 
combed his fingers through my hair as I panted in his ear, his 
nails scratching gently over my scalp.

"There's a carnival in town," he sighed. "Maybe we could do 
that today. Get out of this hotel room for a few hours at 
least." He yawned. "But right now I think I just want a nap."

"Sounds good to me," I mumbled, already half-asleep.

********

"Are you sure about this," Vaughn asked skeptically as I 
handed some money to a carnival booth operator. 

"Are you kidding? I could do this in my sleep," I boasted, 
taking the BB gun the operator handed me. "Watch and learn."

He rolled his eyes and popped a handful of popcorn in his 
mouth, watching in amusement as I took aim at the moving 
targets at the back of the booth.

"What am I supposed to learn, exactly," he asked when my first 
shot missed completely.

"That was a test fire," I bluffed. I adjusted my aim and fired 
at the second target, suppressing a shout of victory when it 
folded down on its track. The third shot was likewise 
successful. The fourth went wide and the fifth was, I was 
fairly certain, a bullseye.

"Nice shooting," the operator said, handing me a small stuffed 
dog.

I smirked at Vaughn, holding the dog out to him. He shook his 
head and handed me his half-empty bag of popcorn. "Hold this."

He fished a couple dollars from his wallet and handed it to 
the operator. Then he took his position at the firing line 
while the operator reset the targets. When they were set he 
took aim and, with seemingly little effort, picked off all 
five targets one by one.

The operator handed him a stuffed bear the size of a three 
year old amid applause from bystanders. He turned and held it 
out to me with a huge grin.

"Show off," I grumbled.

*********

"How the hell are we going to bring this thing home," I asked 
that night, staring at the giant bear sitting on top of our 
suitcases.

Vaughn spat a mouthful of toothpaste and stuck his head out 
from the bathroom. "I'm sure it'll fit into the overhead 
compartment."

"Before or after airport security unstuffs it to search for 
bombs?"

Vaughn finished brushing his teeth and snapped off the 
bathroom light, coming back to the bedroom and sitting beside 
me on the bed. "That's where being a federal agent has its 
perks. Just show 'em your badge and they'll be a lot more 
accommodating." He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and 
kissed my neck.

I turned my head to capture his lips and within seconds I was 
flat on my back in bed with Vaughn hovering over me, nibbling 
on my neck.

"Honey," I began hesitantly. "I'm not sure if I'm up for 
anything tonight.

He hummed. "What happened to tying me to the bed and fucking 
me until I passed out?"

I groaned. "I'm afraid I'm too tired for that now. Tomorrow 
night - I promise."

He rolled onto his side and snuggled up to me, resting his 
head on my shoulder. "Mmm...sounds good."

I rested one hand on his boxered hip. "Do you need anything," 
I asked tentatively.

He sighed. "No. I'm good."

I smiled and kissed his forehead.

I lay awake for a while longer, staring at the giant bear - 
its sewed-on eyes staring back at me. "You do realize that the 
kids are too old for stuffed animals?"

He yawned. "They're not for the kids. They're souvenirs."

I grunted. "So we'll always remember the day you proved you're 
a better shot than I am?"

He laughed. "Something like that."

"So what do you want to do tomorrow Mr. I Don't Want to Spend 
the Whole Week in Bed?"

He swatted my stomach lightly. "Actually I was thinking of 
going to the zoo. Sydney always talked about this giraffe with 
a crooked neck. I suppose we should see what all the fuss is 
about."

"Fine. But we're ordering room service for dinner."

He lifted his head to look at me suspiciously. "Why?"

I winked. "You'll see."