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ALL HALLOW'S EVE III: ALL XMAS EVE
by Sue Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

4/6/97

Synopsis: Mulder and Scully with the help of friends make a
break for freedom. To get a handle on this weird situation and
all of the cast of characters you need to have read All Hallow's
Eve II: Extreme Unction fairly recently.

Rating: PG-13 for a very few bad words and mature subjects like
the nitty gritty of childbirth but mostly it's pure adventure,
suspense and disgusting Romance. Oh, yes, and angst. Have to
have angst.

Author's Notes: Sorry that this is getting put out in the
spring. After the disturbing impact of All Hallow's Eve II I
promised people an uplifting story in the saga and this is it.
As my stories tend to do, however, it got long and life intrudes
and so its coming out at Easter instead of Christmas. Thanks to
Vickie and Mary Jo and Sci and Dianora and Debbie for their
comments.

Copyright 1997 by the author. Reproductions may be made but only
if the entire text is included and the author's name attached.
 

ALL HALLOW'S EVE III: ALL XMAS EVE (1/13)
by Sue Esty (AKA Windsinger)

Chapter 1

December 24, 1996
Montgomery Mall, Bethesda, Maryland

      "Are you sure blue is a good color?" Fox Mulder asked
hesitantly, eyeing the robe Dana Scully held. "Mom always wore
a lot of pink."

      Dana roughly thrust the garment back into the rack between
all the other holiday fare. "Mulder, I'm sorry... I'm tired...
and to tell you the truth I really could care less about what
color nightgown you buy your mother for Christmas." Without
warning she took her index finger and jabbed him low in the
chest. "She'll be so happy that you remembered to get her
anything at all that you could wrap up a pair of red flannel
long-johns and she wouldn't even notice."

      At that Dana turned on her heel and stalked out of the
department. Slightly open-mouthed in bewilderment, Mulder
watched her go.

      Definitely time to regroup.

      The shopping trip had been a disaster from the start. Well,
what could one expect? The day before Christmas... One of the
most affluent suburbs of D.C...

      A shopper only by necessity, Mulder thought he should be
forgiven for not realizing that a free parking space would be
about as hard to find as a 'Tickle Me Elmo' at this time of
year. Dana could have warned him. For fifteen minutes, which was
about fourteen and a half minutes longer than his patience
usually lasted, Mulder circled, tracking the elusive gap in the
endless, identical rows of chrome and paint. It was only after
he had practically ground his teeth down to the roots that Dana
had finally emerged from her blue funk long enough to release
him from his misery.

      "It's one of life's great mysteries, Mulder. You lurk
around near the mall entrance until someone leaves and then you
follow them."

      Within two minutes Mulder had zeroed in on his quarry - a
small, grey-haired woman materialized from the side entrance of
Sears lugging two enormously overstuffed shopping bags. Foot
alternately on the gas and brake, Mulder began to slowly creep
at the poor woman's heels. It took no insignificant skill to
keep his hundred-thousand-plus mile vehicle crawling along at
two miles an hour.

      "If we engaged in this kind of activity anywhere but here
we'd be arrested for stalking," Mulder grumbled. As the woman
pulled out her keys and opened her car door, a hunter's light of
triumph brightened his eyes. As he waited for the shop's car to
back out, however, Mulder's vehicle gave a painful, mechanical
groan and stalled allowing a sleek gold Mercedes to slide into
the vacated space.

      Three minutes and a few dozen blue phrases later - some
even new to Dan a and she had heard quite a few over four years -
 Mulder found a new victim and Dana begrudgingly offered that next
time she would get out and flash her FBI ID if anyone dared try
to jump his claim.

      "Thanks for the offer," he'd glowered, "but the CIA is only
about five miles up the road. We'd probably be outgunned."

      Luckily, neither harassment nor firearms were needed to
procure their spot. Mulder parked, crawled stiffly from behind
the wheel and straightened his shoulders in preparation for
battle.

                            * * * * * * * *

      The analogy wasn't far wrong. The Mall was crowded and
noisy, the shoppers in a hurry, the lines long, and the clerks
snappish and weary of snoring Santa displays. Ho.. Ho...Ho...

      And now Dana had left him in a monster huff for some
unknown reason and if he didn't hurry Mulder was certain that he
was going to lose her in the crowd. That would be the perfect
end to a perfectly dreadful day - having to turn himself into
the mall's lost and found until she got over whatever was eating
at her and came to claim him.

      Frustrated, he tried to pick up her trail but was instantly
cut off by a crowd merging in from a side aisle. Politely, he
paused. The line of people kept coming. A woman pushing a three-
across triplet stroller moved against the flow of people like an
ancient warrior wielding a battering ram. More than a little
anxious Mulder paced back and forth waiting for a break in the
traffic. Though his partner couldn't have gone too far, he had
momentarily lost sight of her. Obviously, politeness took a back
seat to the hunting instinct at Christmas. It wouldn't hurt to
have the talents of a running back either. The well-conditioned
holiday shopper probably found the ability to twist and turn and
sprint for daylight a great advantage.

      The advantage Mulder was grateful for at the moment,
however, was his height. From a vantage point on the brick edge
of a planter, he finally spied a familiar red head and her even
more familiar posture which would have done the Marines proud.
She was just leaving Penney's and heading out into the mall
proper. As he struggled to catch up, Mulder considered that
maybe he should have followed her suggestion and gone to
Nordstrom. He had thought it too rich for his wallet but at
least it would have had the advantage of being less crowded.

      As he concentrated on the red head, bobbing forty feet in
front of him in the midst of the throng, Mulder made a decision.
 

      This was absurd! He'd send his mother flowers. He always
had before. He really didn't want to be here and Dana obviously
didn't. She had just seemed so down lately that he thought she
needed an outing. Girl stuff, boost the economy, give her a
chance to assist the shopping impaired. The idea had been fair-
to-good on inspiration, disastrous on execution. As soon as he
caught up to her, he'd suggest they go home. He could do that...
the whole trip had been his idea anyway.

      Well, the truth be told, not entirely his idea.

      Since mid November, Margaret Scully had been calling at
first on a weekly basis and then almost daily. "Fox,
what's happened? Something obviously. Dana just hasn't been
herself since she got back from helping out at that Michigan
plane crash site in October."

      Caught off guard, Mulder had stammered something about
stress and that Dana would snap out of it. She always did. Then
Margaret went on to describe how Dana seemed to have gotten more
moody in the last few weeks, not less, and that she had actually
broken down and cried on the phone over seemingly nothing at
all. The conversation had been about how about how Dana's cousin
Sophie and her three kids wouldn't be coming for Christmas after
all. Margaret had been mystified by the intense emotion she felt
radiating over the phone from her so-in-control younger
daughter. Sophie and Dana had gone to college together but other
than that Margaret hadn't thought that they were all that close.

      Holiday depression? No, that was Mulder's special
territory. Dana LOVED Christmas. Big family. Lots of tradition.

      "Come on and use about a teaspoon of that fine, vintage
grey matter you were born with," Mulder grumbled to himself, not
that he had to think all that hard. In his bones he knew what
was troubling his partner. He had been praying that the subject
would dissolve into the ether without either of them having to
deal with it.

      Thinking that the problem would go away had been an even
worse idea than trying to go shopping the day before Christmas.
For two months Mulder had been the insensitive, close-mouthed,
big-footed male while Dana had been determined to match him by
emulating the strong, silent female version of the species.

      I am woman... see me really fuck up the holiday season for
everyone who loves me without letting a soul know why.

      She'd almost managed it, too, except, in the case of her
ever present partner who knew very well what was bugging her.
There were times when Mulder had his troubles telling a hawk
from a handsaw - but he did know his Dana Scullys and this was
not the normal variety.

      At that moment, something caused this particular Dana
Scully to stop in her headlong flight. Paralyzed, she stood in
front of Santa's house, which was surrounded by a host of tired,
screaming children and their resigned, footsore parents.
      In ten strides, plus four additional ones to evade a crowd
of giggling teenagers, Mulder made it to Dana's side. Taking her
gently by the elbow, he led her to a ring of couches under an
escalator out of sight of the all-seeing, all-knowing Santa and
his crowd of greedy present-grabbers. There were tears on her
cheeks, gentle, silent tears that had escaped somehow on their
own. She seemed unaware of them.

      Mulder had only known Dana to go weepy at the sight of
children on two of their cases - which was less often than he
did. At least she wasn't sobbing. Not yet anyway. That came
twenty seconds later.

      "Dana," he said gently, reaching for the memories he had
tried so hard to forget, "I'm not a fool."

      Dana blew her nose and tried to remove his hand from her
arm, though not with much effort. "Did I ever say you were? You
don't understand..."

      "Want to bet on that? Do you think I'd forgotten what day
it is?"

      Now she was sobbing.

                             * * * * * * * *

      As Dana collapsed against his shoulder and began making a
good start at wetting his coat, Mulder assumed his sternest 'bad
cop' scowl to chase away any hapless shopper who wanted to
invade their little shadowed hide-away. It worked pretty well
against everyone except one old woman who was too exhausted to
care. She'd seen so much melodrama on her multiple daily doses
of afternoon soaps that being in the presence of such genuine
sorrow didn't embarrass her in the least. Besides, the tall
young man with the eyes which were both hard and sad and the
sobbing, red-haired woman he was rather inexpertly holding were
both certainly handsome enough to be television stars so maybe
she wouldn't miss her daytime dramas as much as she thought she
would.

      Mulder gave in and softened his expression only when a
thin, harried woman with a baby in a stroller and a toddler
clinging to her skirts nearly collapsed inside of their hide-
away. It became clear almost immediately that the baby needed a
change and, considering the packed conditions of the mall, the
woman's rest rooms were certainly overflowing. Mulder had waited
outside of rest rooms often enough for Scully, his mother, his
infrequent dates and long ago for Sam to have some sympathy. He
let the woman stay.

      About the time that the mother managed to get her baby
undressed, Dana's muffled sobs began to lessen. Mulder felt his
anxiety tighten a notch. The last thing he wanted at that moment
was for Dana to turn around and get an eyeful of a nearly naked,
defenseless infant. Clumsily, he held his partner more tightly
in his arms. The very strangeness of that rare intimacy shocked
Dana out of her super-PMS attack faster than anything else could
have.

      "Mulder, what are you doing?" Dana asked as she struggled
to pull herself together and out of his embrace.

      Mulder wasn't very helpful. In fact, he felt a lingering
need to leave his arms right where they were. It was a rare,
awkward position for them and yet Mulder found his body hungrily
remembering the sweet feel of her from the Dream they had shared
during that long, LONG All Hallow's Eve night two months before.
In the Dream Dana had been pregnant, that had made them both
incredibly happy. Mulder hadn't forgotten and it was clear from
the way she was acting that neither had she. During that
horrific investigation in the town of Home, what had he let
slip? That he had never thought of Dana as a Mom before? That
hadn't been quite correct, he had, and he despised himself later
for having opened up such a recent wound.

      As Dana's efforts to disengage herself from his long arms
became more determined, Mulder was relieved to receive  a tired
but appreciative nod from the young mother as she, her
exceedingly quiet infant, and her big-eyed toddler departed.
Only the watchful old woman remained, sitting as she had from
the beginning as if in the front row of a play. She had become
so much a part of their surroundings that Mulder had ceased to
think of her as anything more than part of the furniture.

      Once the coast was clear - that is, once the baby was out
of sight - Mulder rather abruptly released his hold on his
partner.

      Keeping one wary eye on her partner, Dana began digging
into her purse for a tissue. "I don't know what got into me..."
she murmured later, her voice muffled behind the tissues as she
blew her nose. "I'm sorry."

      "Don't be," he assured her, wanting to put his arm around
her again. "It was my fault as much as yours. We should have
talked about this weeks ago and settled things."

      Red-rimmed eyes peered up at him suspiciously. "You
noticed?"

      "You wouldn't have reacted so strongly to the examination
of that child's poor corpse a few weeks back if it hadn't been
for what happened over Halloween. Besides, you forget how well
I know you. Just as you've learned to anticipate when I'm going
to ditch you, I know when there are things going on up there,"
he touched her forehead feather-light with the knuckles of his
closed fist, "that you're not telling me."

      "It's stupid," Dana said, shaking her head. "It was just a
horrible dream."

      "Not all horrible." All too easily, Mulder found himself
recalling the feel of her slender, naked body against his.

      Dana stopped wiping her eyes and studied her friend again,
sensing the memory in him more strongly than she had expected.
"That's right," she admitted slowly. "Not all of it." Her eyes
were bigger and rounder in ways that threatened to shift his
primal instincts into high gear and his brain into neutral.

      "But most of it was a nightmare, or a least nightmarish,"
he stammered, scrambling to pick up the threads of Mr. Cool
before things got out of hand.

      "Right." She gestured with the tissues. "I don't know why
I keep dwelling on it. Must be Christmas, must be hormones."

      Let it go, Mulder told himself. Just let it go. But, no -
Mr. Cool be damned - they needed to speak the truth for once.
"Dana, you know it's not that simple... It's your due date."

      Dana's jaw dropped slightly in awe. She couldn't have
gotten a word out at that moment if she had tried.

      "See, I'm not quite the useless, insensitive specimen you
first introduced yourself to down in the basement. You've been
domesticating me for some time."

      Her voice was very small. "It's still silly to get so upset
over a dream."

      Silence from Mulder.

      Dana stared up from her soggy tissues into his perturbed
face. "Mulder, it's your turn here. You're supposed to agree
with me that it was all just a dream."

      "Was it?" This came from the open minded member of the
team, the one who never paused to believe two impossible things
before breakfast.

      Dana found herself backing slightly away from him until the
back of her knees were up against one of the mall's fine
leatherette couches. "Oh, no, you don't, Mulder. Don't even
begin to tell me this was precognition or a past-life-something-
or-other or worse."

      Gently he pushed her onto the couch and sat down close
beside her. "Dana, we had the SAME dream."

      Her hands went to her ears. "I'm not hearing this."

      "Yes, you are," he said, pulling her arms down. "Scully,
this is affecting you in a way a dream never would. Tell me
that's not true."

      Dana found herself inches from his beautiful, trusting
eyes. They sat that way for a long time, neither moving, hearing
only each other's breathing. The din from the crowds of shoppers
was just white, seamless noise. The canned musical Christmas
fluff poured in from the ceiling speakers far, far away. Even
the old woman must have been holding her breath.

      Since Mulder had already laid himself bare for her, Dana
knew she had to speak or they'd be there all night. This didn't
mean she had to meet his eyes, however.

      "It's foolish, I know, but sometimes I wake up in the
morning and I... reach for you and for a moment I don't
understand why you're not there. I see children and I..."
Carefully, she laid her right hand across her stomach - "but
he's gone, Mulder, he's done."

      Mulder took her hand in his. It was small and warm and he
realized he didn't hold it nearly as much as he should. "As you
know, I usually sleep on my couch. Just to remind myself I have
a bed I used to sleep in the bedroom once a week or so, but I
haven't since we returned. Not once. I can't face that big empty
spot to my left." She sensed his head dropping a little. This
next admission was hard for him. "I also have trouble looking in
mirrors. It's sometimes all I can do to shave in the morning."

      Dana did remember seeing more nicks than usual. She forced
her eyes up to see that he was the one who had turned away.
Hesitantly, she raised her hand to run her finger down his
smooth left cheek. "Now that you mention it, there are days when
I think you've shaved with your eyes closed."

      "Sometimes I try."

      Dana sighed. "We're a mess, aren't we?"

      A shrug. "In my case only slightly worse than usual,"
Mulder admitted with his crooked smile. His grip suddenly
changed and he pulled her, startled, to her feet.  "Let's leave.
I have someone I want you to meet."

      "But Mulder, we just got here!" Dana protested, always too
practical for her own good. "You spent so much time finding a
place to park..."

      "So we'll go out in the lot, hunt up some poor soul with
three kids creeping about forlornly in her suburban wagon,
beckon for her to follow us and give her our space. At least
we'll be making someone's day."

      They left so suddenly that neither heard the old woman ask,
"If you two were rehearsing for a play, at least tell me where
it'll be playing. I'd like to know how this ends."
 

End of Chapter 1

From windsinger@aol.com Sun May 04 21:11:14 1997
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: All Hallow's Eve III: All Xmas Eve (2/13) by Windsinger
From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
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ALL HALLOW'S EVE III: ALL XMAS EVE (2/13)
by Sue Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

For disclaimer see chapter 1.

Chapter 2

      Dana was frowning. The afternoon was not shaping up any
better than the morning. Where Mulder took her was to a fourth
floor office in the psychology building on the campus of a small
private college in Northeast Washington. The office belonged to
Dr. Vinchenzo, an elderly white-haired professor of mixed
ancestry, part Italian or Spanish, part Eurasian.

      "Please make no mistake, my dear," Vinchenzo explained to
Dana in an accent that was as blended as his features. "I am not
a clinical psychologist. My life is research. I am submitting
grant requests everywhere. Academia does not provide the freedom
I need for my pursuits but the income is necessary, is it not?"

      Dana scanned the titles on the books in the many bookcases
which lined the crowded room. Besides the basic psychology texts
most of the volumes were on hypnosis, past life regression,
reincarnation, time travel and spiritualism. Mixed in with these
were the standard psychology texts and studies on schizophrenia
and multiple personality disorders.

      "I'll bet you don't have many grants funded," Dana
murmured, still rankling at the 'my dear'.

      The man's wide smile was a little sad. "True, too true. The
minds of you Americans, not the most fertile ground for radical
ideas," he glanced at Mulder, "as your colleague has found in
his career. Two Afrocentric spiritualist sects have funded two
of my short studies and a group in California is looking for
sponsors, so all is not lost."

      Dana gave Mulder the hairy eyeball for bringing her here.
"I'll bet you and Mulder are just the best of friends."

      Vinchenzo shrugged in that elegant way Europeans have. "We
do not always agree, but he brings me interesting problems from
time to time. For example, we have talked about your current
problem in some depth. The dreams you have had these past two
Halloweens... They were under the influence of some psychedelic,
perhaps an hallucinogen. Very unusual. Certainly you are aware
that they are not ordinary dreams. People do not dream together,
but then, as a rule, they do not hallucinate together either.
The first year, you shared Agent Mulder's terror of nearly being
burned to death and left to die of exposure in the desert. Later
that same night, his near death experience. Extraordinary. Then
two months ago, you lived entire years during a single night.
Absolutely unique. I envy you. Such realism."

      It was Mulder's time to roll his eyes from where he had
propped himself on the edge of the professor's desk. "A little
too much realism. Don't envy us, Vinnie. Certainly not for the
last one."

      "Yes, so you have said. Distressing." The old man tapped a
pencil eraser against the coffee cup he carried. "Before we
start, Dr. Scully, my apologies. Agent Mulder tells me that I
talk too much, but to communicate it is necessary so you must
forgive me. As a species, we have not developed telepathy yet to
any great extent." He smiled at his little joke before
continuing.

      "As I understand it, you and Agent Mulder are here for two
reasons. The first that you are seeking an explanation for these
episodes. On the surface, your experience from 1995 would seem
to have a fairly straight forward interpretation. Agent Mulder
was reliving a terrible trauma as nightmare, a particularly grim
and vivid one. You two are very close and that night you were
separated and afraid. You, Dr. Scully, were more concerned for
him than for yourself. In your fear for him and your desire to
reach him, I believe you read his mind. Some psychedelics are
reported to have that effect."

      "Reported where? In aborigines' folk tales?" Dana snapped,
embarrassed that she should allow this man's wild theories to
irritate her so. She wanted, more than anything, to forget this
whole thing and walk out of here into the clean, cold winter
air. Just to get out and keep walking. The problem was it had
happened. After the first dream she had felt closer to Mulder
than ever before which wasn't such an unpleasant side effect. In
fact, though it seemed incredible now, they had both looked
forward to this year's party. Dana glanced almost guiltily in
her partner's direction. The after effects of the second party
had been nearly opposite the first. She felt almost afraid of
him. His grief burned as deeply as her own. How had she failed
to see it before? Now she realized why it had felt so painful to
be close.

      Dana became aware that Vinchenzo was studying her intently,
watching for the skepticism which was clearly already building
for his next theory. He plunged on anyway. "This year's
experience - Agent Mulder calls it a curse - quite, quite
different, was it not? Would you think I were crazy if I used
the term alternate reality here?"

      Despite herself, Dana felt her lips curving into a small,
bemused smile. "Parallel universes? That science fiction cliche?
I saw it used on Deep Space Nine again last night."

      Mulder's tightly crossed arms loosened as he watched the
interplay between the two. Scully hadn't stomped out yet which
meant this was going better than he had expected. "Major Kira in
the black leather cat suit was on again and I missed it?" he
said mostly to himself. To Vinchenzo he commented, "VERY nice."

      The psychologist returned a smile in Mulder's direction
showing agreement with the agent's critique. "That one, yes,
extremely - visual." He coughed a little and turned back to
Dana. "But just because a plot device has practically joined our
popular culture as a kind of modern fairy tale, that does not
mean that there is not a grain of truth. Why is it used so
often? Could it be because it makes some logical sense? The mind
of Man must first conceive of a thing before it can become real.
Think about computers... toasters... In your field, Dr. Scully,
Magnetic Imaging. All would have been thought science fiction at
one time but man dreamed and now they are reality."

      Vinchenzo began pacing, warming to his subject. "So
imagine, for a moment, that there really are such things as
alternate realities or alternate life lines, terms I prefer to
parallel universes. They would split off from our current
reality - when? why? At birth? Some may but most later, at every
decision we make, at every important point in our lives. What if
you two were 'allowed' to follow along a different life line for
a while?"

      "Forced," Mulder corrected glowering.

      "Forced then, only to be thrust rather abruptly back into
your own life line at a later time. A very inopportune time as
I understand it."

      "I think it's more sinister than that," Mulder suggested
eyes dark. "What if the demon or devil we angered at the dance
actually created the split at just that point last Halloween,
caused my cancer in the new time line and then sat back to watch
the fun."

      Dana had listened wide-eyed. "Mulder, you can't be serious.
That's assigning powers to that demented man that are almost
godlike and would mean... " Her heart beat harder, faster.
"...that somewhere out there we have lived, are still living,
those lives. If it was not a dream then it was..."

      "Real?"

      Dana's glance shot out to meet his but found he had thrown
up a barrier between them. Protection against her disbelief?

      Dr. Vinchenzo was looking from one to the other. He pulled
off his glasses and began to clean them a little nervously with
the handkerchief from his pocket. "Demons consciously triggering
an alternate reality - for revenge? More like the old tampering
gods of Olympus than any Christian devil. Did anyone ever tell
you, Agent Mulder, that your propensity for mixing mythology and
science, even science as unrecognized as mine, can be quite
frightening?"

      Dana had wrapped her arms across her chest, suddenly
chilled. She could use a good warm hug right now. Nervously, she
tried to moisten dry lips. "You said, Dr. Vinchenzo, that we
were here for two reasons. Very well, I've listened to you and
Mulder's theories on the first - an explanation of the dreams.
What do you see is the second reason for our being here?"

      Vinchenzo looked towards Mulder for an agreement to
continue. Both were taking this in deadly ernest. "During
previous visits, Agent Mulder has tried to rejoin that life
line. Not to merge them again but just to 'peek' in. We both
believe that when you returned to this line that your
counterparts continued with their lives. They were too well
established there, had made too many acquaintances, established
too many bonds. They had become people in their own right with
their own loves and fears. Unfortunately, we have not had any
success to date. Since you were originally together, he
thought... we think... that our chances for success would be
greater if the two of you worked together to establish the
link."

      Dana stared blankly from the psychologist to her partner.
"Mulder, you must be crazy. To go back to that - that -" she was
so astonished that at the moment a strong enough word for that
horror just wouldn't come. "This has to be one the stupidest
idea you've come up with in all the years I've know you. So I'm
talking pretty damn stupid!" Dana had flung herself out of the
chair. As it was, she had only barely been able to stay sitting
for the last five minutes. "No! Absolutely, positively, no!" She
turned, quaking with indignation, looking for her coat and being
unable to find it through the red haze across her vision.

      Then she heard his voice behind her - not arrogant, not
teasing, not even particularly obsessed, but gentle and maybe
even pleading a little.

      "Dana... please. He was my son, too."

      That stopped her, froze her in a way nothing else could
have. Mulder hadn't moved. He was still leaning against
Vinchenzo's huge desk. He had opened himself to her, dropped all
his barriers, his eyes were like windows into the mystery which
was Fox Mulder and he was more incredibly sad and, yes,
frightened than she thought she had ever seen him.

      Clearly, he could still feel deep in his bones the hell he
had been trapped in. How could he not? He came within a hair's
breath of dying twice. She knew he must still be haunted by the
monster they had made of him inside and out. While their
prisoner, she knew that only her love had made life bearable for
him and even with it that he had tried to kill himself at least
once. But he had also just admitted that he remembered their
child. Did he find some joy in those memories? He must, or why
would he even consider going back. Did he remember how much they
had loved each other?

      "Mulder, I c-can't... I won't put you through that again."

      "I need to know," he said slowly with grim determination.

      "It was a dream, Mulder."

      "We've been through that. Are you absolutely sure? Was it
like any dream you ever had?"

      Dana hesitated. It was only like one other, like the dream
she had of Mulder speaking to her across the stars when the
evidence, the authorities, her logic, even her own heart had
told her he was dead. But he hadn't died. His voice had touched
her pure and deep. This dream had touched her the same way.
Mulder alive... real... ergo....

      Dana closed her eyes. She felt empty inside. She still had
Mulder here - they were not nearly so close, but he was so much
better physically and for that she was thankful - But what had
happened to the baby? Her baby, Mulder's... That was the worst
after feeling so alive.Had she given birth? If so, was it
healthy, did it have all its fingers and toes? Was it - Human?
Despite the prenatal tests she had always had this fear she
refused to bring out where Mulder could see. Had they been
allowed to keep their son or had he been taken away as they had
taken Sam? If they wanted to destroy Mulder for good this time,
that would have been the way to do it.

      Mulder was right. It was his baby too, and, if there was
any chance of finding out what had happened he would do whatever
was necessary. Could she do less? Did she have the right to kill
that hope in him. Besides, he was asking so little. What harm
would it do to try? It wouldn't work anyway.

      Dana sighed dramatically as if in long-suffering
resignation. There was no point in letting Mulder think he had
won too easily. "How do we start?"

                             * * * * * * * *

      Dr. Vinchenzo was so happy with her agreement that his grin
threatened to split his already lined face. It was Mulder's
response, however, that got Dana to wondering. She had expected
a smug little smile of triumph but there was none of that. Just
an acknowledging nod of his head. Only when Dr. Vinchenzo showed
them the couch did Mulder's mood lighten.

      "We have to lie here on that narrow little thing -
together?" Dana exclaimed in shock.

      "As I understand it from Agent Mulder," the psychologist
said, "that position approximates your physical proximity to
each other the night the incident occurred. And since Agent
Mulder says no drugs -"

      Dana's eyes narrowed wryly in Mulder's direction. "Do I
detect a modicum of common sense worming it's way into this
venture?"

      She was granted only a tight, wan smile in return. At least
there would be a possibility that she could keep her job after
this.

      Alarmed, Vinchenzo interjected, "Never did I suggest that
we attempt to repeat what you were exposed to before. God in
Heaven, no! For one we do not know what was used or the dosage.
The results could be disastrous; wild and uncontrolled at the
very least." A slight gleam sparkled in the old man's grey eyes.
"Not that the study would not be fascinating but in this
instance - no. I did, however, suggest one of the new drugs
being used quite regularly by main stream psychopharmacologists,
one that has been found to help subjects achieve the hypnotic
threshold more easily. Agent Mulder says no to these as well."
Vinchenzo sighed. "In that case we have no choice. It is
imperative that we recreate the physical arrangement as closely
as possible. We hope that your presence will help. I have
hypnotized Fox many times, but as I've said we've had no luck in
connecting to this particular alternate life line."

      Dana stared in astonishment at her partner. Vinchenzo had
hypnotized Mulder 'MANY' times? Since when? She knew about the
regression analysis he had undertaken in an attempt to
understand what had happened to his sister, but that had been
years ago when he had just begun working with the X-files. Dana
felt her insides turn cold. There was one other time and that
very recently during a case which even now she tried with all
her heart to forget. It was the time the FBI hypnotist probed
Mulder for any connection between him and Sullivan Biddle as the
woman Melissa attested. They had all gotten more, far more, than
they bargained for that afternoon. The wounds they had opened
...  Was Mulder working with Vinchenzo in this same area?  What
were they doing? Working to close those wounds or opening and
reopening them again and again? Dana wanted to ask - with her
eyes she WAS asking - but Mulder's face was a mask, a dark and
sorrowful mask, his lips a grim, tight line that revealed no
secrets.

      Oh, Mulder...

      Dana's eyes closed. Why, oh why, had she fallen in love -
yes, in love, though it was a kind of love few people could
truly understand - with such an impossibly self-destructive,
obsessive, insane, noble, adorable creature. But love was
irrational and, it seemed, blind and deaf and dumb as well.

      Heaven help us.

      Dana became aware that Vinchenzo was still talking. "Have
you ever been successfully hypnotized, Agent Scully?"

      Her reluctant "Yes" snapped Mulder out from behind his
protective shield. She had never told her partner about that.
When she had thought him dead in New Mexico, she had gone to a
hypnotist recommended by her sister to see if she could uncover
any repressed memories of how or when the computer chip had been
implanted in her neck. She had learned little which was helpful,
only much that disturbed. Dana often wondered if that attempt
had opened a crack into some new level of consciousness because
that night she had dreamed of Mulder on his bridge between the
two worlds. From that moment on her heart had never doubted that
he lived.

      "Good, good," Dr. Vinchenzo was saying with enthusiasm at
her affirmative response, "that will make our session so much
easier. Now, if you're ready, shall we get started?"

      Two sets of eyes, so full of questions, studied the couch
warily as their owners approached. In order to lay together on
its narrow width Dana had to practically lie in Mulder's arms.
At first she had tried to keep some semblance of space between
them but that proved impractical. Stiffly, she allowed herself
to lie against him. Her distress didn't come from reluctance.
Just the opposite. The feel of his body against hers was both
disconcerting and as natural as breathing.

      "I won't bite, Scully," came his gently amused voice from
behind her as the doctor tied their wrists together with the
belt from a terry cloth robe. Mulder had remembered that, too.
"We are, after all, supposed to be recreating the last moment we
were together there. You know, married... doing mildly kinky
things."

      Dana glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes alarmed. "I
thought we wanted to know what was happening now, or better a
few weeks from now, not months ago. You want to work up to it!"

      Live through the final trimester of pregnancy? Oh, that's
just great, Mulder! Probably one of the more memorable periods
of a woman's life but, if it weren't for the final outcome, not
one many were eager to repeat.

      "Where we were pulled out is fixed in both our memories,
which should help," Mulder was explaining sensibly. "Besides, as
we learned, time doesn't pass as fast here as there. It's not
like the trip will make us late for work on Thursday or
anything, if that's what you're concerned about."

      Dana merely felt her mouth pucker as if she had tasted
something sour and turned forward again in silence. There really
was no point in arguing. They weren't going anywhere - not
mentally, spiritually nor in the flesh.

      Dr. Vinchenzo started talking.

      Ten minutes later Dana was ready to admit that the old man
was good at least at this part of his job. He had a lovely
voice, cultured, interesting, as smooth as fine liquor. A
pleasure to listen to. Without a doubt this was a more pleasant
experience than the only other time she had been hypnotized.
One, she was not alone this time; Mulder was with her. Neither
was she crowded in by her guilt and his ghost. As if assure
herself he was there, she allowed herself the guilty luxury of
a comfortable cuddle. Yes, he was there, warm, alive.  Dana
relaxed. In fact she had been so tense, and had slept so poorly
of late, that a part of her was afraid that she was going to
fall asleep. She didn't want that. Mulder would be hurt if she
showed so little interest in his experiment and she didn't want
him hurt. There had been enough of that for both of them.

      Half dreaming, they were told to listen to the beat of each
other's hearts, to the sound of each other's breathing. The room
light was dimmed almost to complete darkness like on that
afternoon when they had made love with such serenity. Mulder was
scheduled to leave on a short trip but it had been delayed. They
had time. No hurry. Music played softly. There was wind in the
trees outside. Back then it had been summer and there was the
distant sound of birds. Dana could not remember when she had
last felt so lethargic and so content to be so. Vinchenzo was
telling them to think back and call to mind every detail of
sound and touch, sight and smell and emotion they could remember
about their last few minutes in the Compound.

      A child's game, Dana thought. Senseless. Mumbo-jumbo. She
just wanted to sleep. She felt safe. She let her mind begin to
drift, to slide into neutral, but her empty body ached in spite
of her contentment. It longed for completeness. She thought she
dosed then woke slightly. The ache had increased, became
sharper, more like a cramp. It came and went. Dana stopped
listening to Dr. Vinchenzo, in fact she couldn't hear his voice
any longer even when she tried because she was too distracted
listening to what her body was telling her. Another cramp began,
stronger this time, then faded away. Then another, and
another.... Dana grimaced at the last and sought along the belt
tie for Mulder's hand to squeeze it. That one HURT! Hurt like
the worst menstrual cramp she had ever had. A stray thought
passed through her mind - where were her magic blue pills, the
ones which helped get her through the bad days every month.
Lousy timing... I want to go home, Mulder...

      ("Don't tense. Breathe naturally," someone told her.)

      Stupid instruction as if she needed to be reminded to do
that.

      The pain came back. Faded away. Came back again. Dana found
herself gripping Mulder's hand harder with each pain but then
she realized not only what was going on but that she wasn't the
least bit afraid.

      During one of the pauses when the pain was absent, a little
thrill of excitement raced through her. Women, all females, had
gone through this since the first mammal crawled out of the sea.
As she and Mulder stayed too close to allow any other man into
her life, but too far for that kind of intimacy, Dana had begun
to wonder if she would ever be inducted into this particular
mystery.

      Without fear, she prepared herself. It seemed like today
was going to be the day.

                             * * * * * * * *

      Mulder let his head settle back against the pillow. Dana
had stopped fighting him - and herself - and finally relaxed
against him. She felt so good there, so right, that it was hard
to concentrate on the psychologist's voice. Not that he needed
to. He had done this so often that the lulling sound of
Vinchenzo's voice was like the rise and fall of the tide against
the shore and just as natural. It was a sensation he liked.
Being able to put in the background even for just a little while
all the worries and trials that plagued his life was a great
relief. To replace his troubles with the soft void of the
twilight world was like looking into wonder and danger and
mystery all at once.

      The unknown called to him; you never knew what you would
find.

      I must be mad. To put himself, his mind, his consciousness,
his vulnerable 'sub'-consciousness, into another's keeping for
even a little while was not something Dana would have expected
from him. But the need to know, to explore was greater. What
would he have done with his life if Sam hadn't disappeared, if
his father's work hadn't changed everything. Deep in him was the
need to fly, to break the bonds of conventionality, to explore
the limits of space, inner and outer, physical and spiritual. In
these there was no fear. Fear came from wondering which would
find him first: the bullet, poison, the orchestrated crash of a
car or airplane, retaliation by his enemies against his few
remaining loved ones, destruction of what little remained of his
professional reputation. These were the uncertainties which
would drive him insane.

      He felt Dana take his hand. Thoughts of madness faded away.
He was not alone this time. Why did that make it less mad? Her
hand gripped his more tightly. Was she frightened? Mulder felt
anxiety for her building within him but he was too deep in the
hypnosis to break free. He heard Vinchenzo's voice, soothing
them both, strengthening the enchantment. The floating sensation
of being not entirely of this world reasserted itself only Dana
was drawn into it with him now, had become a part of him. The
sense of being not alone brought him the greatest peace. The
feel of her hand in his made her even more real, only he wished
she wasn't holding on quite so tight. The intensity came and
went. At times, her grip was so fierce that he was afraid that
her fingernails would go right through the skin of his palm.

      They had been floating in their twilight sleep, drifting on
the current, barely moving. A sensation rippled through him; the
current had suddenly begun to pull with greater urgency and with
it their speed had increased. The change was slight at first and
then they began moving faster and faster. Mulder was certain of
one thing only - that he wasn't doing this. He had always gently
merged into the other times, the  other lives, like waking from
a dream or becoming part of one, but this was fast, fast, too
fast... The thunder of the water or wind, whatever it was, was
like the roaring of a mighty river now.

      Scully? Was Scully doing this? The question was torn from
him unanswered as a rapid rumbled under him, as he felt himself
whipped about like the lightest piece of flotsam amidst the
white water. For the briefest moment he caught a glimpse of her
consciousness blazing beside him.

      "Dana, what are you doing?" he wanted to scream but
couldn't find his voice. He felt as if he were drowning in the
overpowering flood of her emotions. For he realized that she was
not beside him any longer, but in front, in front - and above as
if they traveled now on two planes, one a river, the other a
long, dark tube and that she had taken the lead in both and was
reaching forward, soaring gloriously, recklessly and, bound
together, he had no choice but to follow.

      Only the sharp pain in his hand remained unchanging, that
and his astonishment. That she would be the one to lead the way
had never occurred to him.

      All at once a thought burst into his mind so strongly that
it was almost painful. The attempt might just work this time,
this was no game. If they succeeded it would be because her need
drove them. SHE needed to be there, to know what was happening.
He was merely being pulled along helplessly behind her, linked
as securely as their hands where linked. Embarrassed, Mulder
accepted why, alone, he had not been able to succeed before.
For fear... for he remembered how he had looked, how he had
felt, how he had wanted so much just to die and die and die...

      He would have, gladly ... except for her. No sane person
ever willingly threw themselves into that kind of fire.

      Maybe he wasn't so very mad after all?

      The torrent was behind them. There remained only the tube,
a long, long tunnel, not so black now but the richest of greens
like the color deep, deep under water. A light glittered at the
far end.  He could barely breathe for the fear... Dana, wait.
Please wait, please don't go... The light was brightening,
coming closer and closer.... Only a few seconds now...

      Scully, STOP! Scully, I don't want to go - Please, please,
Dana, STOP!!!!

      But she lead the way and screamed too loud to hear him. If
only the hand she held as if it were her life line, didn't hurt
so. His fear should have made him a drag on that line, an
anchor, but there was no hint of their slowing.

      Somewhere ahead he sensed something; a tug on his soul.
Familiar. A far too familiar horror. Pain waited, pain that knew
him and which was hungry to swallow him. The self that had been
abandoned to suffer alone. The other's aura of flailing
nightmares touched him, burning where they touched. His skin
began to wither, to scar. Acid flowed once again in his veins.
Bring on the chains for the monster; better yet, a cage!

      Please, Dana, no, no.... he was sobbing But she was
hurtling towards HER other self to embrace her twin and dragging
him, desperately raving, behind her.

      and now both Danas were screaming until it was a single
scream. A scream? No, not a scream after all but a cry, a high
rising cry almost like singing. Mulder had never known Scully to
be so musical while in pain.

      There was light everywhere... a room in sunlight... nothing
fancy, just a room, a bed, two women standing over the bed
looking down.

      A man was on the bed holding Dana in his arms. For a split
second Mulder saw that man clearly, recognition flooding him,
familiar and yet totally unexpected. There was not the revulsion
he had expected. Was this the right place, the right time after
all?

      Mulder stared blinking, paralyzed in indecision and
astonishment for just long enough for his terror to stumble

      just long enough for two

      to become

      one....

End of Chapter 2

From windsinger@aol.com Sun May 04 21:11:49 1997
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: All Hallow's Eve III: All Xmas Eve (3/13)
From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
--------
ALL HALLOW'S EVE III: ALL XMAS EVE (3/13)
by Sue Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

For disclaimer see chapter 1.

Chapter 3

December 24, 1999 (alternate time)
9 am

      "AAAAHHHEEEEEIIIII!!!!"  Dana screamed, her voice rising
from deep in her chest higher and higher up into her head voice
until it was almost lost in the supersonic range.

      With a jerk Mulder pulled away from her, involuntarily
raising a hand to the ear closest to the source of the ear-
splitting sound. "Ouch, woman!" With a shake of his head he
leaned closer and whispered a bit more harshly than he intended,
"I said to make it good. I didn't tell you to deafen me."

      Thirty seconds later - after fourteen hours counting had
become second nature - Mulder felt the rigid, rounded little
body in his arms begin to slacken. Her breath was definitely
coming faster than after the previous contractions. Concerned,
he frantically rubbed her back. At his touch her breathing
slowed, became deeper, more even. Glazed blue eyes opened to his
hazel ones. She was not happy with him. "I wasn't ACTING, you
idiot!" she hissed.

      Apologetically, he rubbed her back a little harder. It was
the only thing he could think to do. He felt so useless. "Bad
one, huh?"

      She moved awkwardly in his arms. "I think I'm going into
transition."

      Frantically, Mulder turned the term over in his mind
seeking the reference. "That means it's almost over. That's
good, right?"

      "That rather depends on what side of the contraction you're
on, Mulder."

      Like clockwork, Deanna, the practical nurse, was at their
side, slipping her hand in between them. As unobtrusively as she
had done every ten minutes for the past five hours, the young
nurse planted the portable fetal heart monitor on Dana's tight,
round basketball of a stomach. Such personal attention was a far
more humane system than having the belt type monitor permanently
strapped around one's swollen middle. The woman's Sudanese print
dress, however, rather made Dana feel like she was taking part
in the filming of the African version of the 'Rites of Passage
in New Guinea'.

      "Heart's good and strong," Deanna said helpfully. "Just a
little fast. He's a fighter."

      Positioned at the end of the bed, a middle-aged woman with
greying hair made a note on Dana's chart. "That's always good to
hear, but I'm becoming suspicious that he's way too comfortable
in there. Dana, try standing up for the next few. Now that your
contractions are stronger maybe we can convince him to move a
little further down the old birth canal. If he doesn't we'll be
here for another two hours."

      "Oh, God, anything but that," Dana sighed and awkwardly
began the long procedure to shift once again from where she
sprawled on the big double bed enfolded in Mulder's arms to an
upright position. Half way there she moaned and Mulder saw her
eyes go glassy, turning inward. The expression was one Mulder
knew well by now. Another contraction was beginning to build;
time to start counting. He moved quickly, managing to get to his
own feet and her to hers before it got nasty. Her slender arms
came up to wrap around his neck so frantically that he thought
for a moment that she was going to pull them both back onto the
bed.

      Another bad one.

      Mulder found himself visualizing each contraction as she
did - as a single mountainous wave. Early on in her labor when
she still found the contractions fascinating from a physician's
point of view, Dana had explained the sensation to him in
excruciating detail. How she could feel when each approached,
drawing her towards itself. How she could sense it gathering
strength, the pain pulling her higher and higher until finally
she was over the top. The easy part was sliding back down.

      Just after dawn, exhausted, her enthusiasm had dimmed.
During those hours, just to grit her teeth and breath through
each one, sometimes dozing between them, was all she cared
about. As mid morning came and went, the contractions became
longer and stronger there was no more dozing and her
excruciating fascination had become simply excruciating.

      Throughout that long night, Mulder had not slept at all but
sat or laid down beside her watching every twitch on her face,
worried yet marveling at how she was handling this. There was no
need for her to tell him any more when a contraction was coming
so that he could time it. He had only to watch her posture
change, to see her eyes dim or brighten to know what stage she
was in. The most amazing aspect to watch was how much she was
like a light bulb on a switch; one moment she was talking,
joking a little, dozing, drinking juice (apricot and peach
nectar were the only ones she could stomach), and the next
moment she could have been on another planet for all the
connection she had outside of her own body.

      This time the top was WAY up there. As the shriek echoed
what was going on inside her battling body, her fingers dug
painfully into the muscles of his neck. Thank Nurse Evelyn's
stern requirement that Dana cut and smooth her fingernails down
to the nubs before Mulder would be allowed anywhere near his
wife during her contractions. The slender grey-haired nurse
stopped just short of requiring that Dana wear a muzzle.

      "Just kidding," the nurse-midwife said in answer to their
pale shocked faces, "unless she's a real biter." Mulder had
flushed all the way down to his toes. That was something he
would never know. If Dana had ever been prone to that sort of
erotic impulse, she had repressed it totally.  Besides, life was
hard enough without having to be reminded that any little break
in his skin would be toxic to those around him. Even his tears,
and there had been enough of them in the early months after he
came out of the tank, had given Dana a rash. She seemed to be
developing a tolerance, however. The last time he cried, which
was when she had agreed to his current mad plan, she had come
away with only a slight itching on her hands and neck. Kissing
was no longer even the sightly uncomfortable, though
scintillating, experience it had been at the beginning.
 

      But that beginning had been more than two years ago. Now
here he was holding her in his arms like any enlightened husband
would, supporting though that most apt of terms 'labor'. He was
awed to see how she threw herself into this challenge just like
all the others in her life, even when the challenge was simply
to let her body relax and do its work without any interference
from her. She flowed into the contractions, inwardly centering
herself, not fighting but depending upon him completely to
protect and care for her. Her trust humbled him. She was as
vulnerable as a human being could be now and yet she put her
life and their child's entirely in his hands.

      As the desperate arms around his neck relaxed once more, he
felt her put her weight on her feet again and lean slightly away
from him, gathering her businesslike Scully-ness back around
her. The contraction was ebbing away, the next not yet on the
horizon.

      "How was that?" Evelyn, the nurse, asked. "Baby drop any?"

      Dana's expression was tight with frustration. "I don't
think so. It didn't feel any different than any of the other
times."

      "That is one child who is far too happy where he is,"
Evelyn noted, her brow furrowing. "Next time bear down, just a
little bit. Maybe you're being just a bit too relaxed though I
can't remember ever having to tell a laboring mother that
before."

      Four more contractions appeared on the horizon and their
monstrous heights assailed before they passed on. Mulder heard
Dana grunting just a little along with her high ear-splitting
cries, tensing more at the top of each of the overpowering
waves. There was definitely moisture on her lip now and her hair
was dark and limp at the edges.

      Panting a little as a particularly bad one subsided, Dana
stared up at Mulder's pale face. Here was definitely a shell-
shocked man.

      "Is it THAT bad?" he whispered tensely. "I've never heard
you scream like this before."

      "Mulder," Dana said planting a damp finger on his chest,
"this is one time in my life when I'm allowed to scream and, by
God, I'm going to scream. Doesn't mean I have to, it's really
not that bad - I'll take this to a gun shot any day - but it
feels good to let it out and so I'm damn well going to!"

      "I pretty sure I can relate to that," Mulder admitted,
remembering his own too frequent trips to the hospital. "There
were a few times when it would have been a relief if someone had
just told me, 'If it hurts, just go ahead and scream all you
want.' But no one ever did. They always just wagged their heads
and told me to be a good boy."

      "Which you never were," Dana said her eyes momentarily all
for him astounded as she often was these days at how beautiful
he was. Afraid to be caught staring, something she had trained
herself not to do during the bad years, Dana looked down to see
his left hand on her arm.

      In hindsight, both realized that the day she had unwrapped
his hand in their rooms after the first operation was the day
that the plan had begun to form in his mind. He had been as
delighted as a boy with a new toy. Not that the terrible
deformed hand was perfect even now, but it was much improved
both in looks and in motility. Eighty percent Dr. Hogan said. To
Dana it was a miracle. Even more of a miracle, however, was the
expression of eager hope she had seen in his eyes as both
realized what this meant - that with this success Dr. Hogan
could start work on rebuilding the scar-ravaged face.

      Which he had. Some skin for the grafts came from the
unscarred places on Mulder's back and some from his butt. The
expression 'soft as a baby's behind' had taken on a whole new
meaning for them. The weeks of waiting after that first
operation on his face had been nearly more than either had been
able to stand but the hours of loving that following the
unveiling had been well worth it even if their celebration had
to be taken more carefully than either would have preferred.
There was this little complication that Dana was six months
pregnant. Since then there had been two more operations and Dana
dared for anyone to look upon her husband's face now with
anything other than envy or maybe unattainable desire.
                             * * * * * * * *

      Another contraction appeared, a real monster by the pull of
the current that swept forward to engulf her.

      "They're coming pretty close together now," Evelyn remarked
looking at her watch, "and they're really lengthening out. Let's
look under the hood, after the next one," she suggested just as
a new one began to build. Mulder sensed a barely recognizable
nod upon his shoulder before Dana plunged once again into the
sensation of her own body. Even before it had completely died
away, however, she was edging towards the bed, her scientific
mind concentrated, as always, on the hungry for more
information; her human animal part just as eager to have it all
over and done with. As he had often during the last twelve
hours, Mulder sat with his back against the high, old-fashioned
headboard and allowed Dana's ungainly body to recline between
his legs. The midwife flipped up the Redskin's jersey which Dana
wore and did whatever it was she did down there.

      Mulder shuddered. What women had to go through. The
indignity of having a virtual stranger poking and prodding at
their most intimate parts. Of course, women had their own curse
from the moment they entered puberty. Outcast as unclean for
millennium during their 'Moon' times, now they had to add to
their troubles, pelvic exams, sonograms and pap smears, not to
mention labor and delivery.

      As part of the FBI's extensive first aid training, Mulder
had seen videos of live births just so he wouldn't be
excessively shocked if he should ever be in the same room as
one. Films like those hadn't bothered him. They were in the
abstract; something that happened to other people. For the first
time since becoming a husband and father, however, he had been
shown one again in the pre-natal classes Evelyn taught. It had
taken all the control Dana possessed at that moment not to laugh
at the pale, sick, greenish color on the face of her spouse.

      "At least I'll get a baby out of it," Dana had reassured
him at the time. "How many times have you been treated just as
impersonally and all you've gotten in the end is a bill and some
new scars."

      All true, Mulder had to admit as he had sat wishing that he
hadn't eaten dinner before that particular class. Certainly the
male appendage was nothing to be all so very proud of. It was
more than a little ridiculous flopping about or doing just the
opposite whenever it wanted which was usually at the most
inopportune of times. God must have been having a really bad
day, either that or an attack of a really sick sense of humor,
the day he invented human kind.
 

      The nurse watched closely through two contractions asking
Dana to push again ever so slightly. Afterwards, Dana's face was
weary and anxious as she looked towards the older woman for
reassurance. Half an hour before she had been eight centimeters.
Once a woman entered transition the end was supposed to come
quickly, but as powerful as the latest contractions had been,
Dana had not found herself raving and screaming in agony like a
wild beast as was reported could happen when one contraction
followed almost immediately upon the next.

      Although glad to be spared such a lack of control, Dana was
concerned at the slight shake of Evelyn's head. This was clearly
not a typical transition phase. "Fully effaced but only nine
centimeters," was Evelyn's report, "and he still floats back up
after each contraction. I'd like to see him stay down. The
pressure on the cervix will help get you over the final hump."

      "Probably has a big head, "Dana quipped between her long
breaths as another wave began to build. "Just like his father."

      Mulder sighed and gently thumped the top of her head from
behind. "That's right. Let's make it all MY fault."

      Evelyn was still considering as she watched what was
happening beneath the large round stomach during the next
contraction.

      As for Dana, she was past caring what Evelyn or anyone saw
or not. When the wave engulfed her she was sucked into another
reality, not torn apart, but just separate, where what was
happening within her body was her entire Universe. Even Mulder
ceased to exist except as her distant life line.

      When Dana felt that life line, his arms, around her once
more, she opened her eyes and looked past him to see Evelyn
still standing and watching as before.

      "You're one of the most cooperative mothers I've ever had
the pleasure to work with. You seem calm enough but I wonder if
there's still some internal tension which is holding this up, so
to speak."

      "Tension?" Dana knew that she had responded too quickly.
She could feel Mulder's arms tighten just a little in warning.
With an effort she tried to be light and smile. If there was
stress, most could be blamed on the fact that she was constantly
aware of the ticking of the damn clock.

      Why was this taking so long! Dana thought near to panic. In
response, Mulder's larger hand, as sweaty as hers, came down to
cover hers. He must also be feeling the stress. After all, it
was nearly ten-thirty. Weren't babies supposed to be born in the
gaud-awful wee hours of the morning? That would have given her
whole day to recover and prepare for the dark. But no, this one
just had to be as contrary as his father.

      "Don't tense up," Evelyn warned her sensing the new
mother's worry. "Let's do more standing and walking and let
gravity do it's part."

      "What about the shower?" Mulder asked as the two on the bed
struggled to reorganize themselves. "During the classes, you
said that showers could help relaxation."

      The nurse looked dubious. "Early on, yes. But this late?
She's very tired.  I don't want to her fall."

      Knowing that at least part of her tiredness had been part
of the act, Dana let her head sag back against Mulder's
shoulder. "Damned if you do and damned if you don't," she
murmured tightly.

      "I'll come," she heard Mulder offer. "She won't fall."

      Just then Dana sensed another mountainous wave appear on
the horizon. "The shower's pretty small," Dana heard the nurse
say as if through cotton.

      Somehow before she was lost to sensation Dana managed to
force out, "We've been in tighter places than that."
 

      Dana only wore Mulder's long football jersey so she didn't
have much to remove. As she draped it over the towel rack she
let her hand pause for a moment on the soft, worn material.
Mulder had worn this under his robe the day they had transferred
his cancer ridden body to the Compound. There had been only a
desperate kind of hope then. Just to live and to live together
was all they could reasonably expect. To have a baby, to be
family, had been far beyond their dreams. How very different
their dreams were now.

      Dana put her hand under the water. It's warmth felt
wonderful on her skin. In the next moment Mulder was at her
elbow, steadying her, helping her in. That hadn't taken him
long, he must have torn his clothes off. In time they squeezed
into the tiny space, made tinier still by Dana's extra bulge.
They had to stand close but then neither would have wanted it
any other way. Out of the corner of her eye Dana could see that
he was sleek and naked except for the black silk boxers which he
knew that she loved and which he had also worn that fateful day
a lifetime before. Hastily, Dana averted her eyes. She alone
knew what it took for Mulder to voluntarily allow his body to be
seen in full light, even by her, even after all this time.

      A warm wash cloth moved over her shoulder, wiped her brow.
"I love you," his smooth voice murmured brushing her ear with
his lips just before another contraction bowed her back and sent
her voice spiraling up, echoing deafeningly in the tiny space.
She came back to herself, feeling his arms around her, his hazel
eyes full of concern. Drops from the shower dripped off his
disgustingly long lashes. "Don't worry about the other," he
whispered. "It was a stupid idea. I didn't understand what you
would be going through. Just have the baby any way you want,
just have it safely; drugs, pitocin, Caesarian, saddle block -
just come out healthy. Both of you."

      Before she could answer Dana grasped him around the neck.
His tender, unselfish concern had triggered a wave of a sort of
passion which brought on another contraction before the one
before had even subsided completely. It was hard, frightening
quick to rise and didn't seem to want to end. It sent her voice
rising again into a long wail. This time she didn't have to try
to push down. Her body did it all on its own in a way that Dana
found acutely frightening. But she had no time to worry about
that. She needed to talk to Mulder which she did in a hoarse
whisper the second she got her breath back.

      "Don't you DARE back out on my account. We must do this! We
will do this! We agreed. I won't have our baby raised in this
place as a hostage to make you toe their line."

      Another contraction gripped her in its fist this time. For
the first time she felt the world slipping through her fingers,
her body making one gigantic thrust. At the top of her cry was
one frantic gasp of amazement and confusion.

      "Dana... Dana..." She came back to the feel of her lover's
hand wiping the water from her brow. She felt warm and safe in
his arms. A water nymph in the embrace of her enchanted prince.

      "Something was different that time... What's wrong?" he
demanded anxiously.

      "Something - ah - moved, opened and... Something slipped.
Something... big." Her eyes were wide with astonishment. "He
felt like he dropped down somewhere in the vicinity of my
knees."

      "I think," Mulder suggested, more than a little green
showing, "that maybe it's time we got out of here and let Evelyn
take another look under the hood."

      It was plain from Dana's wide, apprehensive eyes that she
agreed.

      Two steps outside the shower and Dana had to force herself
to pant through another contraction as Mulder threw a towel
around her shoulders and rapidly began to rub her down as she
held onto the sink. "Too late," she gasped. "No time for that.
And I don't think I can make it to the bed."

      "Are you going to faint?"

      "No," she panted, as he slipped the football jersey over
her head in one smooth motion. "I think a certain someone has
decided that now is the time. And I do mean NOW!"

      Dana remembered only later that she had never seen the
whites of Mulder's eyes so clearly as during those few seconds
before he scooped her up in his arms and delivered her to the
wide birthing bed.

                             * * * * * * * *

      Evelyn and Deanna had heard everything but the furtive
whispers and were waiting for them, unconcerned and smugly
smiling. The mattress had been covered completely with absorbent
pads. Towels and baby blankets were warming under a heat lamp.

      Quickly Mulder got into position. Luckily, he'd been
through part of this drill at least a dozen times before. After
taking two seconds to pull green scrubs over his still damp
body, he propped himself up against the headboard with Dana
reclining in his lap, her head against his chest, without
requiring her to help much. Not that she could have. The sudden
new pressure on the nerves in her pelvis had taken all of the
strength and most of the control out of her legs. Her body was
opening itself up, nearly splitting itself open and there was
not a damned thing she could do about it. On the contrary, she
wanted this, though the helplessness she could have done
without. The end was near. Nine months of nausea, heartburn,
sleepless nights, backaches, indignity, White Whale jokes, and
an itchy stomach as hard as a rock and the one-time-terror of
the FBI firing range had had enough.

      "Now this," Evelyn announced as she stared at Dana's
straining bottom, "is going to be a piece of cake. Whatever you
did in the shower, I'd like to bottle it. Ninety percent of your
work is done. His head's past the pelvic bone and he's in
perfect position. Notice that you haven't had a contraction in
a bit. There will be fewer now. When you do feel one just go
with it and push but slowly."

      The news delivered in Evelyn's calm and matter-of-fact
manner filled Dana with a wondrous exhilarating strength.
Soon... soon...  A warning tickled her mind, however. "No
episiotomy!" she reminded everyone, her voice rising. An
incision now was the last thing she wanted. With effort she
forced her voice back down to its normal tone. "Please we did
all the exercises. Those vitamin E massages, too."

      "Did we ever," Mulder muttered with a sort of exasperated
sincerity. Hours rubbing the vitamin rich oil on his partner's
sensitive nether regions to help the tissues 'achieve their
maximum elasticity' had done wonders to relieve Dana's sexual
frustrations but had done nothing for his. At least they had
only cost the compound a lot of cold water.

      "Not to worry," the midwife said as she watched the head
crown as Dana pushed experimentally through her next
contraction. "You're opening beautifully. That's it nice and
easy. Do you want to reach down and touch the head?"

      With considerable effort Dana managed a quick touch and had
to admit she was largely unimpressed. Mulder hesitantly gave it
a try. Fluke Men and Tooms obviously hadn't quite prepared him
for this. Dana could feel him recoil slightly with a "Yuck!"

      Evelyn shrugged. "Well, the mysteries of nature aren't for
everyone. I have to admit, a crowning baby's head does rather
resemble an overripe orange.  All the skin and hair get pushed
towards the top. Want to catch him, Fox? I'd say you have about
twenty seconds to make up your mind. The next contraction will
probably do it."

      Dana could feel Mulder tense behind her. One of his still
remaining fears was that his toxic, partially alien blood could
somehow harm the baby. He would need time to get over that and
there was no time like the present to start. She patted his
hand, his new left one. "Only go if you want to, but it would be
nice if one of us were there and I'm a little busy right now."

      After a second of hesitation he slipped out from behind
Dana, accepting the young nurse Deanna's help to pile pillows in
his place. "Never let it be said that Fox Mulder was afraid of
the unknown," he told them. As he pulled on a pair of latex
gloves with unsteady hands, Mulder couldn't escape the feeling
of 'deja vu'. He'd 'snapped on the latex' hundreds of times in
the past but never for this sort of thing.

      It took six contractions to get the baby out though Mulder
suspected that Dana could have done it in two if she had been in
a hurry. Dana was being ultra-conservative, however, and pushing
as slowly as possible. There could be no tearing, no incision,
no stitches. On the fourth contraction the head came out, nice
and slow, and Evelyn suctioned the fluid from his mouth and
nose. Mulder's stomach churned as he stared. Had anyone done
that for him when he came out of the tank where he had
'incubated' for ten months?  On the fifth push one shoulder came
out. On the sixth...

      "Better move quickly, Dad - "

      Mulder had barely stretched out his arms when the rest of
his son poured out in a rush of limbs, fluid, and blood. Dana
had arched herself forward to push. Now she collapsed back into
the pillows laughing in relief. It was over.

End of Chapter 3

From windsinger@aol.com Sun May 04 21:13:47 1997
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: All Hallow's Eve III: All Xmas Eve (4/13)
From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
--------
ALL HALLOW'S EVE III: ALL XMAS EVE (4/13)
by Sue Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

For disclaimer see chapter 1.

Chapter 4

      Dazed, Mulder stumbled back from the bed allowing the two
nurses to happily begin briskly rubbing the new arrival's body
with warm towels. No slapping for this one. A tiny cry more like
an angry cat's than anything split the silence in the room.

      "Oh, my but he's long," Evelyn cooed, lifting up the
slippery, screaming, wiggling creature for Dana to see. "Every
finger and toe. Feed him right and you'll have a basketball
star, no doubt about it."

      Tired as she was Dana grinned blissfully. Mulder was
looking more stunned than she had ever seen him. His gloved
hands were still wet with baby slime but his eyes were shining.
Basketball? Dana knew Mulder had been good at the game but had
always regretted not being a couple of inches taller. The light
faded a little from his eyes as he stared at Dana with
meaningful intent, determination and love. Both knew that if
they stayed here there would be no basketball team for this boy
and not much of a future. Dana poured every ounce of purpose she
could summon into the strong, brave smile she sent back in
response.

      I can do this, she told him. I can and I will. I won't let
you down.

      In an instant he was at her side, enveloping her in his
arms. His embrace was so intense it hurt but Dana didn't mind.

      Without warning, when her arms were full of the feel of him
and her head full of his scent, Dana's breath suddenly came out
in a hiss and she grabbed for two fists of short, brown hair.
Already off balance, Mulder felt himself nearly pulled over onto
the bed on top of her.

      "What the -"

      Dana groaned. "Ouch!!!! I thought this was all over with!"

      Mulder's eyes flew up to the nurse, concerned, but Evelyn
was casually handing baby over to Deanna. "Afterbirth. In fact -
" Evelyn took the baby back and placed it naked, skin to skin on
Dana's chest between her breasts, covering the squirming pink
bundle with a light blanket. "- let's put the baby here. You'll
be surprised how the old mammalian hormones will kick in by just
the smell and feel of one's offspring. A couple more
contractions like that and the placenta will be out."

      Which was what happened, the only problem being that Mulder
made the mistake of watching. Looking even greener than his now
rather exotic olive complexion, he rapidly turned back to Dana
who was engrossed in the baby's twistings and turnings as their
son tried to rid himself of the blanket.

      After giving Evelyn a few long moments for an examination
of down below, Dana couldn't wait any longer. "How is it?"

      Oh God, please, no tearing, she prayed.

      Evelyn straightened. "Nearly textbook perfect. I've seldom
seen a neater delivery from a primipara - that's first time
parent to you, Mr. Mulder. There's only the tiniest little cut
which is little more than a rug burn from where he slid through.
A couple of stitches will take care of it and you won't even
know it."

      Dana sighed in relief and wrapped her arms around the baby,
though she was careful. As if he were something incredibly
fragile which might break, she felt comfortable putting only the
barest pressure on him.

      Dana smiled blissfully. This might just work after all.

      Mulder's hand squeezing hers brought her back to grim
reality. "How you are feeling," he asked stressing the word
'feeling'.

      Damn! Dana remembered. I'm supposed to be really out of it
and fading with exhaustion.

      She was being way too happy and excited.

      With an effort Dana forced her voice to sound weaker and
just a little sleepy. "I think I can see a crash and burn in my
future as soon as the last of this adrenalin burns off."

      The young nurse Deanna was immediately at her side taking
pulse and blood pressure.  "Hmmm, at least for the moment you
seem fine. Any crash is to be expected, you know. You just did
the hardest work any woman can be expected to do."

      Obviously, Dana thought with an eyebrow raised in her
husband's direction, the woman had never tried to keep up with
Fox Mulder for nearly three days non-stop during an X-Files
investigation. Compared to that, labor had been like a walk in
the park.

      While her blood pressure was being taken, Dana kept the
baby balanced uneasily against her left arm. She realized with
a start that she had worried so long about just getting to this
point - with she, the baby and Mulder as healthy and strong as
possible - that she didn't know what to do now. Evelyn had seen
that particular look of panic before.

      "Let's try a little breast feeding," the nurse-midwife
suggested. "Not that you have any real milk yet, but the first
'milk', the colostrum, is very good for him and his nursing is
needed so that the good stuff will come in in a couple of days."
As the women worked together to expose the breast with its large
dark areolae, Mulder found himself staring in fascination. He
had, of course, noticed how much larger Dana's breasts had
become but in his distraction with his own plans had not put two
and two together. It made him feel warm and male and horny as
hell.

      "Now his suckling is going to hurt," Evelyn warned.

      "But he doesn't have any teeth."

      "Not up there." Evelyn put her hand lightly low on Dana's
abdomen. "Down here. Remember, I discussed that during your
classes. The oxytocin your body will release when he sucks will
help contract your uterus far better than pitocin."

      And thus critical if the night's activities were to be
successful, Dana remembered. Determined to put up with whatever
discomfort there might be, Dana concentrated on getting the
little bird mouth to latch on to the nipple. She very shortly
learned that neither the practical life skills class from high
school, nor the FBI academy, had prepared her for certain
aspects of motherhood.

      Ten minutes of effort and the baby's efforts were half
hearted at best.

      "Don't be discouraged," Evelyn said. "He's really not
hungry yet. You have to realize, he's probably just as tired as
you are right now."

      "Just like his father then," Dana commented. "Won't eat
when he's too tired, too busy, too excited or otherwise just too
distracted."

      Mulder made a slight hrumphing noise and bent down to get
a better look. Eyes wide, probably in intense sensory overload,
the infant was solemnly rolling the nipple around with his
tongue trying to decide what to do with it. "At least he seems
to like the feel of it in his mouth," Mulder said seriously,
trying to be help.

      "Just like - somebody else I know," Dana winked, enjoying
the color that flowed up his neck until it darkened the tips of
his ears.

      It was a pleasant, rare interlude. Mulder pulled a chair up
close and sat staring at the baby as if he were examining a
rare, alien life form. Dana felt her mind vacillating smoothly
between watching the baby along with him, happily studying
Mulder's reaction as he watched the baby, and bearing the deep
uncomfortable cramping. Secretly, however, Dana was excited by
the dull pain. This was just as it was supposed to happen.

      Evelyn thought so too. Half an hour later when she gently
examined Dana's uterus she was more than satisfied. "Nice and
hard. Shrunk down almost to its normal levels. Take it easy and
I doubt you'll have much bleeding. The placenta looked whole,
too, which means there are no parts left inside. That would
cause problems later if there were. You'll be sore for a few
days - there's a lot of broken surface area in there and you
need to keep off your feet - but I predict you're going to have
a truly problem-free recovery. It's nice to have such a healthy
patient."

      Dana swallowed and, when she felt confident that Evelyn
wasn't watching, shot Mulder a concerned glance. The muscle in
his clenched jaw was leaping in worry. They didn't need any more
talk about how well she was doing.

      Dana forced herself to droop, her voice to drop and shake
just a little. "Mulder, will you take the baby. Suddenly, I'm
really tired." Without warning Mulder found a bundle thrust into
his fumbling arms.

      As if terrified by the rough handling, the baby's arms and
legs suddenly flailed out in all directions, his impassive eyes
opened huge and dark.

      "Help!" Mulder cried, his voice breaking with a nearly
adolescent squawk. "What did I do wrong?"

      Laughing gently, Evelyn took the child from its father's
uneasy hands.

      "Well, there's one test the pediatrician won't have to do.
That's an expected reflex. Think of it as the exaggerated
startle response we all experience sometimes when we sense we
might fall. It's a test for nervous system function. I'd worry
if he hadn't responded that way when he found himself so
unsupported." Evelyn took one of the baby blankets and went to
Mulder's side. She put blanket and baby on the side of the bed.
"Here let me show you. Remember what we discussed in the
classes? You swaddle babies tightly for the first few weeks
because that's what they were used to in the womb. They're
happier that way. More secure."

      Dana lay back smiling as she watched the nurse assist
Mulder in wrapping the baby snuggly. Though not jealous, Dana
realized that she wouldn't mind a little of that attention for
herself. First, however, she wanted to wash. She felt damp and
sticky with all manner of bodily fluids.

      "Evelyn," Dana asked, "you said I could take a shower. I
think I'm ready for that now and then I want to sleep for about
a week."

      The nurse cocked her head to one side. "I can appreciate
that you want to clean up, but if you're as tired as all that,
I worry about your being alone in there." An eyebrow raised.
"Unless Fox should go in with you again?"

      Exactly what Dana had been thinking - more secure time for
them to talk and crawling into the shower with Mulder under any
circumstances was never a hardship - but then her thoughts
turned dark and a more than a little anxious. They couldn't take
the baby into the small bathroom with them. That would throw up
about two dozen red flags signaling loud and clear about how
mistrustful Mr. Mulder and Dr. Scully continued to be. The
thought of leaving their baby with anyone who was tied heart and
soul with the Consortia, however, which was just about everyone
to some degree, made Dana's skin crawl. Still, for a few hours
more they must play the game. They must look and act like
normal, excited, contented new parents. Nothing more. That fact
did nothing to relieve the fist of nerves closing in Dana's
stomach. Anxiety attacks Dana had had before and this was a
level two.

      Dana sought Mulder's eyes and found his thoughts mirrored
hers. At that moment a knock sounded softly and Grace
miraculously poked in her greying head into Dana's hospital
room.

                             * * * * * * * *

      "Is that two jelly donuts - or three?" the older woman
asked with a grin.

      "You're either psychic or it's all over the hospital by
now," Dana said, trying to keep the relief from her voice.

      "Oh, far beyond these walls," Grace said rolling her eyes.
"I'm sure it's made it all the way up to W.M.'s office by now."
'W.M.' was the general euphemism for the Englishman with the
well-tended cuticles of the gentleman and conscience of a
concentration camp commandant.

      Dana laughed, well aware that the laughter was louder than
the joke humor warranted but she didn't care. Here was someone
to leave the baby with whom she trusted implicitly. Grace had
been Dana's second friend in this place after Louis. She had sat
by Mulder's tank holding Dana's hand over scores of weepy
nights. She had brought Dana food and made her eat it. As much
as Louis, she had taught Dana how to maintain the equipment, the
computers and pumps, the sensors and fluid chambers, which had
kept Mulder alive. She had been mother and sister, teacher and
friend. She had even been tactful enough not to ask the baby's
name as everyone else had a dozen times a day since the
chromosome analysis had determined his sex.

      No name. Dana and Mulder had decided that on the night the
plan had been conceived. No name in this place.

      "How did you know that he would need the comfort of his
godmother's arms while his Mom and Dad take a shower?" Dana
asked.

      Both of Grace's eyebrows went up. "Again? I heard you did
that already. Don't you two ever get enough?"

      "No," was Mulder's immediate response.

      Despite the fact that everyone laughed at the tasteless
joke, tasteless considering the present condition of Dana's
insides, Dana detected Grace's understanding that now, more than
ever, they needed this private time together.

      Awkward, sore, seriously exhausted and more afraid of
hurting something by over exertion than actually hurting
anywhere specific, Dana scooted off the bed into Mulder's
supporting arms.

      "Got your sea legs?" he asked, concerned when she swayed a
little though he suspected that most of that was for effect for
Evelyn.

      "Better than you, Mr. Gets-seasick-in-a-bathtub. At least
I don't look quite so much like Moby Dick any longer." In truth
Dana was appalled. Putting her hand on her stomach, she realized
how big she still was. "Just more like Flipper."

      "Don't worry," Evelyn said encouragingly. "Toning will help
and a lot of that's water. Over the next three days you're going
to pee more than you have in your entire life once you remember
how to do it."

      Trying to understand that cryptic comment Dana waddled
towards the bathroom. Now that the critical concern of getting
the baby out was complete, Dana's natural modesty returned. She
and Mulder shared a lot but not EVERYTHING, which was why she
kept him outside pacing with concern as she relieved herself.
Now she understood what Evelyn had meant. Without eleven or
twelve extra pound of baby, amniotic fluid and placenta sitting
on her bladder, a certain part of her anatomy was having trouble
remembering how to do its business.

      When she opened the bathroom door ten minutes later, Mulder
whirled, his face grey, his eyes full of questions. Talk about
anxiety attacks! A level one, Mulder's own personal category.
"How are you feeling?"

      Dana leaned dramatically against the door frame, her eyes
shining. "About three pounds lighter than when I walked in
here." With that she reached out, closed her hand around the
front of his green scrub shirt, and with a jerk dragged him,
startled, into the bathroom with her. "Come on, Tiger. I need a
shower and I mean now!"

      Only her real fear that she might injure herself in her
awkwardness kept Dana from leaping into the shower stall. She
wanted a shower that bad. In any case, she didn't wait for
Mulder though she was more than willing to allow him to help
her, once again, to take off the long football jersey. Much as
she loved it, because it had belonged to him, it was now a
sweaty and nasty mess. As she dumped it in the corner of the
bathroom, she couldn't help thinking with a mixture of sorrow
and anticipation that if all went as expected tonight she would
never see it again.

      Dana leaned against the tiled wall and contentedly gloried
in the feel of the water against her exhausted skin. She also
kept the sliding door open, just a crack, but enough to
unashamedly watch Mulder undress this time.

      "You're staring," he admonished, gently. Six months before
the words would not have been said with the tenderness he used
now.

      "One of these days, Mulder, I'm going to be able to show
you again that I love your new body as much as the old one." In
response he blushed with a color which came out oddly mismatched
on the two sides of his face.

      Eagerly, he slipped like a lithe seal into the small shower
stall. Bracing his arms lustily on either side of where she
stood, he asked lewdly, "How soon do you think?"

      Her good mood wavered a notch. "Considering the way I'm
feeling now and the texture of those industrial strength,
superduper 'rubbers' you have to use, at least two weeks," she
told him apologetically.

      Mulder's lower lip came out in such a hurt and adorable
pout that Dana had to raise herself up and kiss it.

      Bad idea. In a second he was wrapped around her and
amazingly she was responding to him. Not that she had the least
desire to DO anything but just to have his skin all over hers,
to get amazingly close to him again without the watermelon in
the way was bliss. Reluctantly she pulled away as she realized
how fast and hard his heart had begun to pound.

      He backed away sharply though in the small stall he
couldn't go far. "Sorry," she apologized, genuinely grieved. "I
shouldn't have started that."

      "Don't be sorry. Don't ever be sorry that your body and
your mind and your spirit turn me on."

      He came down to whisper so close to her ear that his breath
tickled. "I should be telling you gushy things now about how
brave and strong and wonderful you were during labor and how
beautiful our son is but I'm afraid we don't have time for that
right now. The question for the afternoon is: Are you going to
be able to go through with this? We can still call it off."

      Dana paused to take serious inventory. "I'm tired and sore,
I don't know where my balance is half the time and my body
almost feels afraid to move but I'll manage. I will, I have to!"
She insisted so softly that her voice was barely heard over the
hiss of the water even by him. "I didn't consider how loose in
the joints I was still going to feel though." With that she
couldn't resist swaying her hips against him just a little bit
almost feeling guilty when she heard him groan.

      "Agent Scully," he gasped, "when did you get to be such a
tease?"

      "When I realized how much fun you could be when I did it."

      That got her a kiss long on love though restrained on
sexuality. "We'd better hurry," he whispered reaching for the
soap and beginning to lather her back. "You're not going to have
time for more than four hours of sleep as it is."

      "Then four hours will have to do," she murmured back. When
she turned to wash him, not only the alien green and the pale
Jewish-Scot but also the slightly pink areas of newer normal
skin where they had taken the grafts for his face and hand.

      He grumbled a little. "Two showers in one day... I don't
know if I can stand being so clean."

      "Too bad we can't save one up until later," she joked
softly but both knew it was no joke. Who knew when they would
get a shower again?

                             * * * * * * * *

      Grace was waiting for them with the baby asleep in her
arms. Dana had never been so grateful. She didn't need a crying
baby now. A few minutes later, Grace was gone but only after a
cheerful wave and a promise of another visit. Evelyn and Deanna
had returned to other duties. The blinds were drawn and the
lights turned down low.

      They were alone. Dana lay on one side of the oversized
hospital bed, Mulder on the other. Swaddled closely as if he
were still in the womb, their son lay safely between them above
their joined hands.

      Alone? Well, no, not quite - alone. A tiny red light
blinked on and off near the ceiling. They had company, as well
they knew in the form of the Consortia's ever-present electronic
eyes and ears.
 

End of Chapter 4

From windsinger@aol.com Sun May 04 21:15:05 1997
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: NEW: All Hallow's Eve III: All Xmas Eve (5a/13)
From: windsinger@aol.com (Windsinger)
--------
ALL HALLOW'S EVE III: ALL XMAS EVE (5a/13)
by Sue Esty (AKA Windsinger@aol.com)

For disclaimer see chapter 1.

Chapter 5a

Late Afternoon
December 24, 1999

      Dana, Mulder and their yet unnamed son slept. At least two
out of three of them slept. Mulder rested for their ordeal to
come but his eyes and ears were as wary and watchful as the
electronic ones. Probably more so.

      He worried. Trust no one. It was a maxim burned more deeply
into his bones than any strand of alien DNA. If this escape
attempt was going to succeed, however, they would need help, but
that didn't mean he had to like it.

      At five-fifteen Evelyn arrived with dinner and woke
everyone. Even though the hospital only had thirty beds, it was
run like one ten times its size. Irritated at being awakened and
just as appalled by the look of the food, Dana realized that she
was famished. Knowing she would need her strength, she
resolutely closed her eyes and ate.

      Minutes passed. Silence. They were being too quiet but
under the tension of waiting their voices would not have sounded
natural anyway. Certainly nothing they could have safely said to
each other could have meant more than that shared silence.

      From time to time as she ate, Dana's eyes looked out from
under her half closed lids towards the face of the clock on the
wall.

      Finally. Five-fifty. Show time. Her eyes slid from the
clock down to her spouse who was slouched in the room's only
chair, his feet propped up on the side rail of her bed, a
hospital dinner tray on his knees.

      "Mulder, did you sleep at all?"

      "Hmmm, me? Sleep? Never heard of it," he muttered staring
at the grey-green vegetables on his fork. "Evelyn said that they
brought me a tray because I was accommodating enough not to pass
out on them during the birth. They must have wanted to see me
out cold because this looks like punishment to me."

      "Mulder," Dana began, nudging his leg with her foot and
wondering if he remembered the plan, "you didn't sleep last
night either. I should know, because you were there for every
contraction and I remember every one. Why don't you go back to
the apartment and try to get a few hours."

      "What do you mean 'me' go back?" he asked so innocently
that Dana had a hard time believing that this conversation
hadn't been rehearsed 'ad infinitum'.  "We decided that six or
seven hours of TLC in this place was enough. If everything went
well, we planned to go home together. Didn't everything go
perfectly, my efficient, little baby factory? Ouch!" For that he
got a soggy, grey pea right between the eyes. The 'little baby
factory' line had not been in the script. "Who lectured me on
and on about how pregnant women are not sick and, therefore,
don't need to be in a hospital?"

      Dana put on her best 'I AM being reasonable' face. "Mulder,
I'm sorry. I'm just much more tired than I expected. I'm also a
little apprehensive that I might need some help with the baby in
the night."

      "And what am I?" he asked making a great show of injured
pride. "Puppy chow? I passed all of Evelyn's prenatal courses in
flying colors."

      "Experienced help, Mulder." Dana almost regretted the
comment. He really did look hurt. Ah, for a camera to catch this
all on film. She certainly hoped that the security people were
tuned in so that they would have something to remember them by,
not that they did not already have hundreds of hours, some of it
definitely X-rated.

      Six o'clock. As expected a knock on the door. Grace's lean,
motherly smiling face.

      "Look, Grace is here. You go, get some PB and J at home -
which is what I know you really want - then crash. At least you
won't have the nurses waking you up every three hours."

      "The nurses won't be waking YOU up every three hours,
either," Grace assured her. "Sleep is what you need so they have
orders not to wake you unless you call. You are a doctor after
all. You ought to know if you need help."

      "There, see. There's no reason I can't stay," he sulked.

      Dana stared him down. "Home, Mulder. You hate hospitals.
Besides, I won't have you lying awake all night next to me
worrying about everything that could have gone wrong."

      Reluctantly, lower lip protruding moodily, Mulder got his
parka from the closet. At her instructions to 'bundle up', he
pulled the hood up obscuring his face. The close confines of the
hood felt familiar. The coat was the green one with deep fur-
trimmed hood he had nearly frozen to death in in Alaska. It was,
after all, December and the Compound was located somewhere in
Pennsylvania, or so they were able to gather.

      Just as he was preparing to leave and Dana was positioning
the baby at the breast, she sent her most sinfully sweet smile
in his direction. "Fox, before you go, could you do me a favor?"

      With exaggeration he sagged against the door jam. "Uh, oh.
She used the 'F' word. I'm in trouble now," came his voice from
within the hood. "What now, or shouldn't I ask?"

      "Could you get me a soda from the canteen? Root Beer?" She
shrugged. "Sorry, no iced tea. I'm still not allowed caffeine."

      Sending him off smiling over their little private joke,
Dana laid back against the pillows and tried this nursing thing
again. Having had a nap, her son was more interested this time.
The feel of his little jaws against her sensitive nipple did
still cause cramping but the other sensations it produced where
not in any way unpleasant.

      "I really can't stay but a minute," Grace was saying.
"Things to do. Is there anything you need doing?"

      Dana did manage to think of a few things; to check on the
chart for the baby's Apgar scores, to check later for his weight
which she pretended to have forgotten, to ask for some hand
cream from her bag in the bathroom. All these and others.
Purposely, Dana didn't ask for them  all at once. The point was
to have reasons for Grace's comings and goings.

      When Grace returned with the hand cream she found Dana with
a wistfully relaxed expression on her face. "You know, Grace, I
think I could get into this."

      The middle aged woman grinned broadly. "Yes, I remember
what it was like with my two. You never do forget. Wait till
they start responding and lay there smiling up at you with your
tit in their mouth. It will break your heart."

      Dana nearly burst out laughing at the image. Not at the
image but at the response that came unbidden to her mind.

      Just like Mulder.

                             * * * * * * * *

6:10 pm

      With the light steps of what a happy new father without a
care in the world might make, Mulder tripped down the two floors
of stairs to the basement. He had put his coins in the vending
machine and extracted the root beer and then an iced tea and was
heading for the stairs when he paused and retraced his steps to
detour towards the men's room. There he sat down his cans on the
counter, turned on the water, zipped down his parka and then
turned on the hot air dryer.  All the while his head was
studying the six stalls. All empty. Or seemed to be. He studied
the glazed over window at the end of the aisle. There was the
tiniest crack of light around it's edges which used to be
painted shut.

      Louis had been at work.

      Coat in hand, Mulder headed for the handicapped stall, the
one no one uses except as a last resort. It was occupied, only
it's occupant was sitting on the back of the tank his feet on
the toilet seat, a big smile on his very young and handsome
face.

      Mulder reached out and clasped the expected hand as he
offered his coat. As quietly as possible they changed places.
Both wore the same jeans and boots which the commissary sold.
Both were lean, broad shouldered and within an inch of the same
height. The expected newcomer had also darkened his hair and
trimmed it to Mulder's length. Wearing Mulder's coat with the
hood pulled up, Kenneth could pass easily for his slightly older
friend.

        Kenneth was not only the son of one of the Consortia
members but a former incubant himself and the one who had had
the biggest crush on 'Dr. Dana'. While Mulder had been battling
for his life in the tank against his infection, Kenneth had
completed his recovery and been sent to one of the other of the
Consortia's compounds. There, as many of the medical community
had suspected, he had been trained to handle a large chunk of
the Consortia's finances. Luckily, his work required travel and
so he had visited the medical compound from time to time. There,
through Dr. Scully, his former physician and object of many an
agonized wet dream, he had been introduced to the almost
mythological Fox Mulder. To Kenneth's dismay Mulder was
passionate, brilliant and in such desperate need of a woman's
acceptance and affection that Kenneth knew his cause was lost.
There was no way he could compete with that for the heart of the
red-headed Dr. Dana. With the cooling of his ardor, however,
Kenneth had gained a friend.

      How he had arranged to be here at just this time, a date
that with natural childbirth could not be pre-determined with
any accuracy, neither Mulder nor Dana ever asked. It was enough
that he was here.

      "Are you certain you want to do this?" Mulder whispered.
"They give you a lot of freedom. After this, if they find out -
"

      "Don't worry," the young man soothed in just as soft a
voice as he hurriedly slipped on Mulder's coat. "I'm still Mr.
Big's son. There's only so much they can do to me. After all, I
know where all the bodies are buried now, financially speaking
at least. Hell, I've reburied so many of them they'll have to
keep me on. I got married last year, you know. Judy has reasons
for not wanting to be on the outside so I'm content. When we
have a baby, though - who knows? - we may feel differently. If
so, I'll look you up."

      The hand dryer motor cut off. No more talk. After another
rough handshake, Kenneth pulled up the hood of Mulder's Alaskan
parka, gave the 'V' sign to Mulder who was now sitting on the
back of the tank where the younger man had been, and turned to
leave the stall. As he did, he heard Mulder flush the toilet
behind him. Whoops, forgot that. Of such little things are wars
lost. Quietly closing the stall door, Kenneth made a point of
washing his hands. Picking up the two cans of soda, he left for
Dana Scully's room.

                             * * * * * * * *

6:15 pm

      Right on schedule, all hell was breaking loose up on Dana's
ward.

      A minute before, Louis had barreled down the hall, huge,
nut brown and loud.  White teeth flashing, he stood in the
doorway, one beefy hand wrapped around the strings of twenty-
four helium 'It's a Boy!' balloons which he was busy handing out
to all the patients and nurses who slipped by to see what all
the commotion was about.

      This was when 'Mulder' returned to deliver Dana's root
beer.

      While the laughing and congratulations were going on behind
him, Kenneth leaned down to say good bye as he thought Mulder
would do. Dana took the front of his coat in her hand, pulled
him to her and kissed his startled young face within the
shadowed confines of the hood.

      "Thanks for everything," she whispered to him sincerely
and, though she couldn't see his face as he straightened up to
leave, she thought he might be blushing. With his ice tea in one
hand and the three balloons Louis had thrust at him in the
other, Dana watched him go. It was almost like seeing Mulder.
She reminded herself that that was the point. For all intents
and purposes he had to BE Mulder for the next twelve hours. By
running his errand to the basement, Mulder had displayed his
coat and silhouette clearly for all to see. Now with the
balloons he would be an even more obvious sight as he left the
hospital, walked across the compound and into the building where
Mulder and Scully's tiny apartment was located. There Dana knew
he would undress in the dark exactly as Mulder still did even
after all this time and then he would climb into their bed.

      Mulder. Dana's thoughts went out to him, wondering,
concerned. He wasn't at home in this place but would he feel
less alien outside if this plan did succeed and they were able
to escape? She doubted it. If anything the estrangement would be
worse. People here knew what he had become, there was no
pretense. But there was also no privacy, no freedom, certainly
no security for their future. Dana smoothed the dark, slightly
reddish hair on small round crest of their son's head. If
everything went correctly tonight, they would be free. In that
case the future at least would be their own to make. If they
were caught, there would be no future anyway.
 

      Louis was hovering. "Where'd Grace go?" he asked loudly.
"I've been saving this red one for her."

      "She had to leave," Dana told him matter-of-factly. "She's
braiding corn rows for someone tonight."

      Louis whistled. "The woman has the patience of a saint."

      "But I don't," Dana reminded him. "Come over here and sit
down and give me a progress report from Building One."
 

      Amidst the commotion surrounding the arrival of Louis and
his balloons, 'Mulder's' coming and going, and the milling about
of curious staff, no one noticed that Grace had vanished into
Dana's bathroom on an errand and never emerged.

                             * * * * * * * *

6:35 pm

      For twenty minutes Dana and Louis talked with animation
about the health of the new incubants and their reactions. Louis
promised to pull the videos of the immersions for Dana to
review. She didn't try to hide her reluctance. Her reaction
wasn't new. Everyone on the team was aware that she was still
haunted by the screams from Mulder's immersion and determined to
change the procedure if she could. A year before they had tried
sedating a new incubant before immersing him in the tank. He had
not done well his first few minutes and they had nearly lost
him. That animal instinct for self-preservation was somehow
essential for the release of the right balance of hormones. Sad
and horrible but true.

      "I think we've talked enough about this," Louis said seeing
her drooping eyes. "You want to sleep?"

      "I should. But first would you watch the baby for a few
minutes?" Dana made a show of dragging herself heavily off the
bed. Her lethargy, unfortunately, was not entirely an act.

      "Another shower?" Louis asked with a grin, having been told
about the two previous ones.

      "Don't I wish. I ache, but I'm afraid I'd fall asleep on my
feet so no shower. But I do need to relieve myself of some more
of this pregnancy-induced hypervolemia."

      As she closed the door to the bathroom, Dana heard Louis
begin to sing. He had a nice voice, a lovely rolling bass. Most
importantly it was loud. In the bathroom a slight form rose
smoothly up from the corner of the still damp shower stall.

      Grace.

      A few minutes later Dana opened the bathroom door but only
far enough to put her head out. "Louis," she called, raising her
voice over the sound of his singing. The singer paused to catch
her words. "I've changed my mind. You're going to think that I'm
just being contrary and Mulder will say 'I told you so', but I
want to spend tonight with Mulder after all. Will you take me
and the baby over?"

      "You crave that skinny mongrel?" Louis exclaimed offended.
"I thought only pregnant women had weird cravings..."

      "I'm about as pregnant as I can be and not actually be
pregnant."

      Heaving his great bulk from the room's single chair, Louis
sighed. "I'll get a wheelchair."

      "Before you go, would you hand me the bag with the rest of
my clothes? I have a snowsuit for the baby, too. It's not a long
way across the compound but far enough."

      With the sleeping child securely cradled in the crook of
one huge arm, Louis picked up the heavily stuffed duffle bag.
The security cameras in the main room would be picking up his
large form filling the open doorway as he handed it to her.
Their audio pickups would be hearing Dana's voice, muffled
behind Louis' say, "Here give him to me and I'll dress him."
There was movement as Louis handed over the infant but his body
still remained solidly in the doorway.

      "When are you going to quit calling this child 'Baby' and
give it a name?" the security team would hear Louis ask.

      "As soon as we can come up with one that Mulder will agree
to. I'm letter him choose. He was the one saddled with 'Fox',
after all."

      In the bathroom, blocked from the camera's sight by Louis,
Grace opened the duffle bag and pulled out a bundle already
clothed in a dark blue infant snow suit which was nearly
identical in size and shape to the baby Dana held.

      Louis continued to lounge casually against the doorjam. "If
he thinks he can find a name that no one can turn around and
create a cruel nickname out of, he's not as smart as I thought
he was."

      Inside, Grace and Dana exchanged 'infants', Dana handing
the fake one to Louis. "We agreed that if it was a boy he could
choose," Dana said. "Here, place 'Xavier' in the middle of the
bed. He's fast asleep. If he wakes, I'll be able to hear him
from here as I dress."

      "Xavier?"

      "Just a joke of Mulder's. I least I hope it's a joke."

      Louis turned from the bathroom staring at the covered
'face' of the bundle quizzically. "Xavier. Nothing's more
heartless," he said returning to his earlier subject, "than a
school yard of young delinquents. Go ahead, call him - 'Xavier',
if you want so. You could call him 'Peter' or 'Robert', but he'd
still get a nickname that will make him blush when he's fifty."

      As instructed, the big engineer carefully placed the
'child' in the center of the bed. Though there was no one but
the camera to see, an old bittersweet memory rose to alter the
broad, n