Snapshpot 19:Wedding Bells Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, and any other tangentially mentioned characters were created by Chris Carter, and remain the copyrighted property of him, TenThirteen Productions, and Fox Television, a unit of 20th Century Fox, Inc. All characters are used without permission, and no infringement is intended. Classification : MSR,X Rating : PG Some words, and some oblique references to adult sexuality. Archivists : Sure. Just make sure to keep my email address and this entire text as is without changes. Feedback : Please. Positive, negative, what have you. Address is drambo@sonic.net Summary : Enroute to their new assignment, Mulder and Scully have separate but similar thoughts on the plane. Upon arrival, they settle into their new house and enjoy their first night as...well, you know. Spoiler Warning: None. But, if you have not read any of the Snapshot stories, you may need to be brought up to date. :) ------------------------------------------------------------------- Baltimore-Washington International Airport "Do you prefer a window or an aisle seat, Mrs. Edwards?" The reservations agent stared expectantly at Dana, who was busy staring off into space, her thoughts elsewhere, her mind a thousand miles away. The reservations agent waited what he thought was a sufficient amount of time, and then tried again. "Mrs. Edwards?" Mulder, who was standing behind Scully, was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. He felt the smile tugging at his lips, and nudged Scully gently with his foot. "Honey? He asked you a question." With a start, Dana turned her attention back to the reservations agent. "I'm so sorry...I was...thinking. What was the question?" "Isle or window seat?" "Oh...window. Please." The clerk nodded and returned to his computer, punching keys with speedy efficiency. "OK, Mr. and Mrs Edwards, you are confirmed on flight 323 to Billings, with a stopover in Dallas, departing from gate 17." He snatched the boarding passes from the printer and quickly scribbled on them with a green felt-tip pen. Stapling the baggage claim checks to the tickets, he folded the entire affair inside a small paper carrier bearing the airline's logo. Handing the packet to Mulder, he continued: "Turn left at the end of the counter, down the concourse past security, and it's the seventh gate on the left. Have a nice flight." He waited to see if there was anything else, and when neither Mulder or Scully said anything, he pointedly turned his attention to the next person in line. Taking the hint, Scully and Mulder made their way towards the concourse. "Hungry, Scully? I could use something." Dana shook her head. "Not me." She watched as Mulder approached a cart vendor and quickly ordered two hot dogs and a soda. She watched him as he ate, wolfing the food down, swigging quickly from the bright red can, polishing the makeshift meal off in a matter of minutes. Scully dropped her glance to the ring on her finger, her thumb slowly working it, twisting the metal band again and again. The ring felt heavy, foreign on her finger, somehow...well, alien was the only word that came to mind. She snorted, wondering if Mulder would appreciate the joke. She wanted to talk to Mulder, wanted to tell him the myriad emotions that were running through her mind, the conflicting feelings whirling and spinning in her heart and in her head. She glanced back at him, and decided that it would have to wait. For Mulder, this was one big adventure, a chance to play dress-up the way grownups did. He was on a mission that looked interesting, a covert, clandestine operation that appealed to the little boy in him, that youthful exuberance that was never far beneath the surface. No matter how many times he railed against the shadow governments that he was convinced existed, he too liked the idea of playing secret agent, of jetting off to distant places to skulk in the shadows in the name of finding the truth and protecting Justice and the American Way. To him, this was a way to explore the concept of being married to Scully with both an official Bureau blessing, and a built-in escape hatch. Not many marriages came with an expiration date, Scully thought, and smiled. Mulder felt Scully's eyes on him and could sense her feelings. He had long ago given up trying to explain or dissect the strange way they seemed to be able to communicate silently across great distances. He didn't even need to look in Scully's eyes to feel her...reluctance. That was the chief emotion he felt coming off of her. By the way she stood and moved, the way she held her body, Dana Scully was all but wearing a neon sign around her neck that she wasn't a happy woman. And deep down inside, Mulder knew why. Scully wanted all the same things he did...some day. She wanted marriage, a home, family, children, PTA meetings, bake sales, Little League, band practice, trips to the dentist and the doctor, school plays and bumped knees, changing diapers and three-am feedings. She wanted that very badly, and Mulder knew that a very specific, only recently awakened part of her wanted those things with him. He was still struggling himself, a little, with that concept, trying it on for size, turning it over and over in his mind, taking it out to play with when he had some quiet time. He knew that Dana wanted, in a place so deep inside her that it was almost invisible, for this to be real. Not that she didn't want to do the op, but that when it came to something like being married to Mulder, she didn't want to play at it. She didn't want it to be fake. "C'mon," Mulder said, "we're going to miss the plane." Scully looked up, saw the look in his eyes, and heard the words his heart was speaking. his eyes said. She smiled softly and took his hand, glad that the undercover nature of the mission allowed them to act like a couple in public. "David," she whispered, "have I ever told you how much I love you?" He smiled. "Karen," he said, trying the name on for the first time, "you show me how much every day." And with that, they turned and walked down the concourse, towards a new life, a temporary, through- the-looking-glass life that promised to show them things about each other that neither had ever suspected. Aboard Flight 1019 "Coffee, Tea, soda?" "Dew me!" Mulder said, grinning at the flight attendant. "Excuse me, sir?" Mulder's smile slowly faded. "Uh...Mountain Dew, please." "I'm sorry. We have Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite and Root Beer." "Uh...Coke." The flight attendant smiled thinly at Mulder, reaching down underneath her cart and returning with a can of Coke. She filled the small plastic cub with exactly three ice cubes, as the airline regulations specified, and then filled the remainder with the brown liquid. "And for the lady?" "Coffee," Scully said, her head buried in a child psychology journal. She had been reading almost since the plane had started to push away from the gate. She remembered her psych rotation in medical school only as a dim, distant memory, and she had a lot of catching up to do. Mulder was reading "Stranger in a Strange Land" for what seemed like the twentieth time. The scifi classic never ceased to amaze him. As he read, his thoughts began to drift. There were so many things going on at the same time, it was hard to keep track of them all. The last week or so had been so completely full of life-changing events that it was almost too much to comprehend and understand. Scully was his lover. He was hers. Skinner knew. The OPR both officially and unofficially knew. They were on an undercover op for the OPR, and not just the OPR, but a smaller, almost clandestine unit called 620 that did God only knew what for nameless and faceless strangers, a culpability trail that might lead to the doors of the White House itself. Not to mention that he and Scully were about to start playing house, the two of them thrust together into a situation that mirrored not only the current state of affairs between them, but took them to new places Mulder wasn't sure either of them was ready to explore yet. Like trying to walk through a quicksand minefield, he thought. The next step in any direction could cause the entire thing to blow up in his face, and at the same time he was trying to navigate it carefully, he was flailing around, scared that he was going to go under, sputtering and gasping for breath. Mulder closed the book, finally accepting the fact that he was totally, completely unable to concentrate. "Penny for your thoughts, Mulder." Her voice was quiet, serene, soothing. He leaned towards her as if to hear her better, but all he wanted was to drink in the presence of her. Scully's scent, the mixture of her shampoo and perfume, and beneath that, something lower, more basic, always made him feel comfortable. "Just thinking about the op," he said. "What're you thinking?" "It's gonna be strange, pretending we're married." Scully looked up from her psychology journal with her trademark arched eyebrow, a signal that Mulder understood better than any other human on Earth -- explain, Mulder. Now. "Before," he said, trying to worm his way out of what sounded, already, like a lame excuse, "we became lovers, this would have been a fun little side-trip. I would have teased the hell out of you, and you would have done the same. We'd laugh and joke, and ... well, we'd both be wondering what it would be like to be with each other, to play man and wife for real. But we probably wouldn't have done anything about it, because we weren't ready for it. We hadn't...crossed the bridge." "Yeah," Scully agreed, turning to stare out the window. The clouds look comforting, fluffy, soft. She had to agree with him; it was going to be strange. Maybe strange in a good way, though. "Look at it this way, Mulder...we get a chance to see what it would be like to live together as husband and wife. We get to see each other first thing in the morning, last thing at night. We get to sleep together, and get paid for it, I might add. I'd also like to point out that I will finally be able to determine if you are trainable." Mulder, who had been slouching in the seat, trying to find more legroom, sat up straight and turned to face his partner. "Excuse me? What-able?" "Trainable, Mulder. It's an easy word. Only three syllables." "Trainable?" "Trainable," she confirmed. "Jeez, Mulder, how many long-term relationships have you been in, any-" Scully bit the last part of the sentence off, realizing that he had only been in one, and that it had ended badly. Mulder's longest relationship was with his Quest, and she was an evil, cold bitch. He gave all his time and energy to the Quest, and she hadn't given much back. If Mulder's Quest had been a real flesh-and-blood woman, and not the emotional mistress it actually was, Dana would have long since scratched her eyes out. No, Mulder had lots of experience with women, and none with relationships. He was scared. Of exactly what, Dana wasn't quite sure. But his fear was palpable, detectable, if only by her. She took his hand. "Mulder," she said softly, "this is an assignment. Neither one of us had a lot of experience going undercover, so we're going to have to depend on each other a lot during the next few weeks. But it's all pretend, Mulder. Part of the job. I'll be there for you, and you'll be there for me. Just like always, OK?" Mulder nodded, sighing deeply. Her face was turned towards his, and he could see her eyes, her wonderfully captivating, alluring eyes. He had fallen into them the first time he'd seen them, and now he was acting as if he wanted to escape. Nothing could be further from the truth...in theory. Dana could see the thought racing across his mind. She reached for it, trying to grasp it and examine it, but it was too deep an emotion, to private a feeling. She saw his brow crease, and waited for him to speak. The incredible combination of bioelectric computer and mystical divining rod that made up Mulder's mind was cranking over faster than he ever remembered it working. Of course, he thought; that was exactly it. For as long as he could remember, Mulder had been thinking about a relationship with Scully. About what it would be like, surrounding himself in an active fantasy life, building totally unrealistic expectations about what a relationship with Scully would be like. And now it was true. Now it was real; it had escaped the realm of pure theory and was now bouncing around in the Real World, the world were emotions were delicate and feelings could turn brittle with the mention of a certain phrase, a poor choice of words, a hard look. Like a spider web, he thought, each delicate tendril had been carefully placed in his mind, with Scully at the center; It seemed as if a strong breeze could turn the entire affair into a mess of twisted dreams and shattered hopes. And more than anything else in the world...or, most anything in the world, Mulder didn't want to screw this relationship up. "Scully," he finally said, "this is not the time or place to talk about this. I need time to think about how I want to say what we both need me to hear. I promise you, tonight, when we get to the house, we will sit down and I'll tell you exactly what I'm thinking. Deal?" Scully didn't even think about it. A promise from Mulder was as sure as a politician's greed. "Deal, Mulder," she said softly, leaning over to kiss the side of his mouth. "I have some reading to do..." "And we have to fill in some of the blanks, too," Mulder added after a moment. "Huh?" "Well, that legend the OPR-620 guys gave us was a pretty good starting place, but it's nowhere near complete, Scully." "What do you mean?" "Well...where did we go on our honeymoon? What's my favorite color? What was the name of your prom date, Scully? We have to be prepared for some of the more common questions that are asked of married couples. We have to be able to give the same answers, even if we're asked separately." Scully nodded. She'd been thinking about that ever since they had left Quantico. Leave it to Mulder, one of the best interrogators Scully had ever seen to be able to turn that skill around and use it as a way to protect them. Scully felt a wave of affection for Mulder wash over her. "You're amazing sometimes, you know that?" His mouth twisted into the familiar grin that told Scully some witty comeback was seconds away from arriving, but nothing came out of his mouth. "Thanks," he said softly, humbly. "You're welcome." Billings International Airport 4:45 PM "Well," Mulder asked softly, "Which one do think it is?" They were standing in baggage claim, waiting with the rest of the passengers for the motorized carousel to start circling endlessly. It was a proven fact that no matter what time you arrived for your flight, bags were always the last ones off. Mulder and Scully had passed the time waiting by studying the crowd, trying to spot Deputy US Marshal Dan Stone. So far, none one in the terminal seemed to perk either Scully or Mulder's interest. With a lurch, the luggage carousel groaned into action. It went around for several minutes before the first bag appeared, and magically, it was Scully's garment bag. With a smile on her face, she leaned down and grabbed it, handing it back to Mulder. Against all logic, all human understanding of how such things worked, it took another ten full minutes before another bag belonging to either of them emerged. "How is that possible?" Scully demanded. "They all went onto the plane at the same time!" "Sounds like an X-file, Scully," Mulder whispered. She shot him a warning glance, and his expression turned contrite. There could be no discussions about X-files while they were in Montana. At least not in public. Finally, they had all their bags. Mulder loaded himself up with most of them, and Scully took the rest. They turned to leave and stopped, realizing at once that they didn't know where to go. They had been assured that Stone was to meet them at the airport. Government assurances, Scully thought. About as trustworthy as a politician's promise. "Well, what should we do?" Scully asked her partner. Before Mulder could answer, a voice called out. "Mr. Edwards?" Mulder turned to see a man about his age, a few inches shorter and definitely thicker, slowly approaching. He held out his hand. "I'm Dan Stone. I'm sorry I was late, but we had a SOG takedown earlier today, and we just finished up the paperwork and loaded our package onto the Gooney Bird." "You're with SOG?" Mulder asked. That put a new spin on everything. The US Marshal's Service was small in comparison to the other federal law enforcement agencies that were all part of the Department of Justice family. Just over three thousand sworn members strong, the USMS was had three primary missions. Providing security for judges and federal courthouses, protecting federal witnesses before, during and after trial, and chasing and recapturing escaped federal fugitives. Even such a small, elite service like the USMS had an even smaller, even more elite unit inside of it, just as the FBI had the Hostage Rescue Team and the Secret Service had the Executive Protection Detail. The USMS's Special Operations Group was a small subset of the Fugitive Recovery Squads that dotted the USMS offices across the country. SOG operatives were trained in the latest assault tactics by the military counterterrorist units like Delta Force and SEAL Team Six. US Marshal's were feared across the country by fugitives. Mention the phrase "SOG" to an escaped federal prisoner or fugitive, and they would literally shake in their boots. SOG operators were not known to take a lot of prisoners. The fact that a hard-charging, kick-ass and take-names USMS SOG operator was on this mission didn't exactly surprise Mulder, but it did answer a few questions that had been dangling in his mind. Most of the SOG operators were taken from military units or police SWAT teams. They were used to dealing in the shadowy, dual worlds of law enforcement and intelligence. They were the kind of people that Mulder never found it easy to trust, and now is only contact with the DOJ and Washington was one of those shadow faced goons. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Stone handed him a slip of paper. "Home, pager, cellular and fax. You can get me 24/7, Mr. Edwards. Judging by your face, you know what I do for a living when I'm not protecting witnesses. I make no apologies for the way I earn my living, sir, but I will tell you that I consider you just as important, if not more so, than any of my witnesses, and when you call, if you call, I will come." His piece finished, Stone handed over two sets of car keys. "They're parked next to each other in short-term. Green Ford Expedition, and right next to that a red Miata. Directions and keys to the house are under the visor. You are only to call me if you need something, not to chat. There is five thousand dollars in a wall safe in the master bedroom of the house. The combination is your birth month, her birth day, and your birth year, Mr. Edwards. If you need more money, call me. If you need to be yanked out, call me. If Zack gets abducted by the aliens he's so worried about, call me. Otherwise, no matter where you see me, no matter what I'm doing or who I am with, you are not to publicly acknowledge me in any way. Is that clear, sir?" Mulder just nodded, unprepared for this level of animosity from the man. They were on the same side, right? Stone studied the two agents for a moment, and turned to Scully. "Ma'am, I'd sure like to help you with them bags, but as your husband will explain to you later, I have a Bad Guy to go and catch. You have a nice day now, you hear?" With that, he turned and walked away. "What was that about?" Scully asked. "I'll tell you when we get there," Mulder said, turning and trudging towards short-term parking. Shrugging, Scully followed her husband. 22 Mon Bar Road Pave Creek, Montana 7:45pm The drive had taken them just over an hour, north and east of the airport. The directions Stone had provided were excellent, and Mulder found the turn off onto Mon Bar street with little difficulty. He counted from the first house, numbered 2, all the way down to the last house on the block, number 22. His house. The house he and Scully would be spending the next few weeks in...as husband and wife. It was a two-story brick-faced colonial, with a wrap-around verandah on three sides with a wide set of steps ending at the semi- circular driveway. Mulder pulled a little forward, letting Scully park behind him. They got out, stretching their legs, hands on hips, leaning back as they stared at the house. It was beautiful, Mulder thought, and Scully agreed. Looked to be about twenty five hundred, maybe three-thousand square feet. Their nearest neighbor was perhaps four hundred yards away. "Cool," Mulder said, noticing for the first time that a previous owner had poured a twelve-foot square cement slab that supported a regulation basketball backboard and hoop. The sun had set a few hours ago, but there was still enough light to see by. There was a light on inside the house, gently bathing the front door in a soft yellow glow. "Shall we?" Mulder asked. Scully nodded, using a fist to try and hide a yawn. They walked up the stairs slowly, looking around, taking it all in. The entrance was protected by an aluminum storm door, and Mulder opened it, inserting the key he'd found in the car. The lock snapped! and he pushed the door open. "God, I feel like I could sleep for a week," Scully said, starting to move around Mulder, trying to get inside. "Oh, no you don't," Mulder said, reaching out to stop her. She looked at him, puzzled. "Wha-" she started to ask, but she never got to finish the sentence. Mulder reached down and literally swept Scully off her feet. His left arm was cradled behind her knees, his right arm gripping her shoulder. He turned sideways perfectly, carrying Scully across the threshold. Standing in the foyer, Mulder grinned in the soft light to his partner. "If we're going to play house," he whispered, "we may as well do it right." He slowly lowered Scully until she was standing next to him, her hands on his shoulders, her face tilted up, her eyes searching for and finding his. Her smile was soft and sweet and pure, as only a Scully's could be. She didn't know what to say. "Thank you" sounded trite considering the circumstances. So she settled for the one thing that she knew Mulder wanted to hear. "I love you, Mulder." They kissed, a soft, gentle, promise of a kiss that hinted as something more, something deeper once they got unpacked and settled. Parting, Scully reached up with her thumb and wiped a stray trace of lipstick off Mulder's lips. "Let's go exploring!" she giggled, and then laughed at herself for giggling. "I gotta go first," Mulder said. "Well, we gotta it first, Mulder." Hand in hand, they set off to explore their new house. Scully was brushing her teeth, staring at her reflection in the master-bathroom mirror. Holy God, she thought. The Bureau had certainly gone hole hog on this particular assignment. She was still reeling from the entire experience of exploring the house with Mulder. A sunken living room, a dining room big enough to comfortably seat twenty, a kitchen to die for, complete with a butcher-block island in the middle (plumbed wired,), a restaurant-quality stove, cold storage large enough to hold an entire cow, four bedrooms including a master bedroom with a King size bed and a skylight. The bathroom had a vanity that looked long enough and sturdy enough to comfortably land aircraft on, and a Jacuzzi bathtub that looked like a white porcelain promise of relaxation and escape. She leaned over and spit, using a paper cup to fill her mouth with water. She swished it around, thinking about the man waiting in bed for her. Waiting for . Mulder was waiting for her in their bed. So far they had only made love in her apartment, and in San Diego. Now they had a bed. Together. It was neither hers nor his. It was theirs. Scully studied her reflection and smirked at it. You look real gorgeous, she thought, cheeks bulging out with green goo-stained water. You should be a fashion model, Dana. She leaned over and emptied her mouth, straightened up and dabbed at her face with a soft terry hand towel. She took another moment to study herself in the mirror. They day before, while they had been doing laundry in preparation for this assignment, Mulder had surprised her with the donation of his Oxford T-shirt. It was incredibly soft and worn, and it did very flattering things to Dana's petite figure. Knowing how Mulder felt about such things, the Oxford T-shirt was all that Dana was wearing at that particular moment. Running a brush quickly through her hair, Dana called out, "Ready or not, Mulder, here I come!" Flipping the light off, she closed the door behind her and started moving towards the bed. God, the master bedroom was almost as big as my entire apartment! There was a 41" inch Sony-XBR television mounted on a swivel stand in one corner, and Mulder was currently flipping the channels. He was on his stomach, a doubled-over pillow holding up his chin as he worked the remote. "How many channels?" she asked, slipping onto the bed next to him. She was sitting up, her arm on the other side of his body, staring down at his bare back. Mulder had decided to sleep in a pair of worn cotton track shorts. "Over a hundred. I think Grant actually did what he said he would. I have the feeling there's a satellite receiver somewhere on the property." She watched him flip channels for few minutes, and then remembered his promise on the plane. An evil grin split her face, and quickly covering it, reaching out with her hand, her fingers hooked into claws, she lightly dragged her fingernails down Mulder's back. "Ooooohhhhhh," he moaned. "That feels wonderful, Scully. Do that again." "Oh, you like that?" "Mmmm. Very much. Again, please." "Nope. I want something first." "Anything! My kingdom for a horse! No! Wait, my kingdom for... for...whatever you call it that you just did to my back. My kingdom for that nail-thingie again!" Scully laughed. It always felt good to laugh, but with Mulder, it always felt wonderful. "What I want is to finish that conversation from the plane. You promised." Mulder's body sagged as he realized he'd been sandbagged, yet again, by his lovely partner, his best friend, his lover...and his 'wife.' "Yes, Dear," he said, the insolent whining tone in his voice so clearly fake that Scully laughed again. He turned over and moved to the head of the bed, flipping the pillow over and collapsing against it. "OKlemme think..." Mulder sat, pulling on his bottom lip with two fingers, mulling and thinking. "Since we're married now, I guess I can tell you all my deep dark secrets, huh?" Scully laughed, a short, harsh back. "Mulder, I know all your secrets. I've never had anyone be more open with me than you have. I doubt that there's anything you can tell me that I don't already know." Mulder decided he could not let that go unchallenged. "Did you know that on the day I first met you I had an erotic dream about you the following night?" Scully thought for a moment. "Of course you did, Mulder. I burst into your hotel room in my underwear! What normal man wouldn't?" "OK, Scully, I'll grant you that one." He paused, suddenly finding it harder to speak. "But I'll bet you don't know how often I've thought about us. You. Me. Being together. I know you think I spent a lot of time getting to know you before I started trusting you, and maybe part of that is true, Scully. But, in a way, I was gone from the moment I met you. I must have thought about you a thousand times every single day since I met you. We both know what the people at the Bureau call you behind your back, Scully. Ice Queen. The first time I heard someone use that term, I wanted to punch him in the mouth and burst out laughing at the same time. I've never met anyone so passionate in my life. "I felt that in you, you know," he continued. "And I can remember the first time we started this....dance that has brought us here to this bedroom tonight. I can remember the very first time the channels of communication opened, for real." "Tooms," Dana whispered. "Right. In the office, when that butthead made the joke about little green men..." "And you said Grey. Little grey men." Dana thought about it, nodding slowly. "You're right. That's when the dance started." "I'm no good at relationships, Scully. Phoebe was the last serious woman in my life. The rest have all had staples in their bellies. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I thought about you and me, us, for the longest damn time, imagining all these wonderful scenarios between us, where we marry and settle down and have kids and live happily ever after, and here we are, playing around in the most dangerous emotional minefield I could ever come up with even on my most paranoid of days, and I don't want to screw it up!" Scully smiled softly at the man she loved. "Mulder, I understand how scared you are. I am just as scared. You are a handsome man. I've seen women throw themselves at you in diners and hotels, even at crime scenes all over this country. I have to think about all those gorgeous women out there who might come along-" "No." Mulder moved so quickly Dana was surprised when he appeared in front of her, his nose two inches away from hers. "Don't ever say that," he whispered urgently, each word a separate sentence. "Don't ever even think that, Scully!" His hands came up to capture her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks softly, his pinkies doing the same thing against her throat. "Don't you get it?" "Get what?" It was his turn to snort-laugh. She could see the muscles in his jaw flexing. "For the last four years, Dana Katherine Scully, AKA Mrs. Karen Edwards, you have been the standard by which I personally define beauty." Scully saw the look, the intensity in his eyes, and heard the truth in his voice, and felt the honesty in his heart. She melted as he continued. "Every single woman that ever came onto me after I met you was nothing, Scully. She wasn't as smart, wasn't as fun to be around, didn't have the most incredible, depthless blue eyes. She didn't know me and accept me the way you do. No one has ever made me feel the way you do, Scully, and dammit, I don't want to fuck that up!" He kissed her on the nose and released her face, moving to sit back against the headboard. "No!" Scully said, reaching for him. "Come back here." He moved again, changing positions to sit cross-legged (what, in less politically correct times, have been called Indian-style) on the bed. She moved against him, settling into his lap, curling her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, moving until their foreheads touched. "That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me, Mulder." In this position, her head was higher than his, and she had the pleasure of lowering her mouth to his and capturing his lips with hers. She moaned into his mouth as she felt one of his hand slipping under her shirt, climbing swiftly up her back and emerging from the collar only to slide into her hair, his fingers tugging gently. Every single time this man touches me, she thought, I melt. She slowly broke the kiss. "Mulder...I have two things to say to you. The first is that I love you so much I can hardly find the words to even begin to describe the outline of what I feel for you. And the second is...we won't screw this up. Trust me. I won't let us." She felt him shifting beneath her, and she realized he was straightening his legs. His hands were at her waist, and he pivoted on the bed, and then lowered them both to the mattress, his head a scant foot from the bedside table. Reaching over, he snapped the light off, plunging the room into darkness. She felt his fingernails on her thighs, moving slowly north towards her hips. His fingers caught the shirt and slowly slid it up Dana's body. Raising her arms to help him, Scully settled back against his chest as Mulder tossed the shirt onto the floor. "Mulder...are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" "What do you think I'm thinking?" he asked. "Is that a gun in your pocket...or are you just glad to see me?" Mulder chuckled in the dark room, his body vibrating with the sound. "Scully," he teased, "they took our guns." "Oh," she said. "That's right." She moved to the side a bit and slid her hand down his stomach, underneath the waistband of his shorts and found what, exactly, had been poking at her only a moment ago. "Are you telling me this isn't a dangerous concealed weapon?" "No, Scully, it's not. It's not a weapon. Never that." It was her turn to sigh and laugh at the same time. "You're right. It's a gift, a wonderful, special gift." "Consider it a wedding gift," Mulder grinned. "After all it is our honeymoon...sorta." Dana laughed again, and Mulder felt himself lurch. There was something different in that laugh, something throatier, more carnal. "Well then, I'd better unwrap my wedding present," Scully said, moving to do just that. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ END CHAPTER 19 End Note - Missing Chapters & Mailing Lists - If you are on my mailing list for "Snapshots" and wish to be, please send a email from any feedback you may or may not care to give. The SUBJECT of this email should be "SUBSCRIBE" without the quote marks. My thingie will take care of it from there. I'm trying to automate this because I get between 30 and 40 requests for missing chapters every day, and I want desperately to keep up with the volume. So, if you are missing a chapter, I will please ask as nice as I can for you to send a separate email message for each chapter you are requesting, with the subject line as "Request 01" or "Request 03" or "Request 09" or whatever. Please remember to have a TWO DIGIT chapter number. My autoresponder thingie that I wrote myself only likes two-digit numbers. Since there ain't no freakin way I'm gonna be able to write more than 99 chapters, we should be fine. If, however, you don't mind getting a big-ass ZIP file with chapters to date in a single zip file (the zip file expands to 16 separate files,) send an email message with "REQUEST 00" as the subject line, again . The .ZIP file was created with a Unix version of ZIP, but it WILL unzip with DOS PKUNZIP 2.04g or WINZIP. I have tried it myself and it works. Macintosh users, you are currently out of luck as far as the .ZIP file goes unless you have a utility you KNOW works on DOS/Unix ZIP files and want to try anyway. :)