Vanilla and Silver (1/1)

DSc1110
        dsc1110@vvm.com

Rating:  PG13

Keywords: Fluff, MSR, baby makes three

Spoilers: None, but note that this is set about a two years in the future,
so if you don't know the "big news" from 'Requiem' -- you're screwed.  ;o)

Summary:  "A gift from Mulder: a night of relaxation."

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Nor is the poetry, obviously.
Please don't sue.  (I'm worried enough about how I'm going to make it
through the next month.)

Feedback:  I adore it.  It's all responded to!  (Note that I have a new
email address.  I was at schoppe@vvm.com.  I can still, atleast temporarily,
access that account, but I am trying to get everything shifted over to
dsc1110@vvm.com.)

Distribution: Spookys, yes.  Everyone else, yes.  Let me know where so I can
go stare at it?
Can link to:
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Comet/6895/fanfic/vanillasilver.html

A Few Notes: I am in the corner believing they will have a boy, but I never
give the child's name. Oh, and they live in a HOUSE together.  So this is in
neither of their apartments.  More notes and thanks at the end of the story
. . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
within this twinkling realm i hear your laughter
and ache to say again how dear you're held
    -- Starry Starry Night
               Rhiannon MacGregor
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I slip down into the hot vanilla-scented water.  A gift from Mulder: a night
of relaxation.  It's been almost a year and a half since our lives were
turned upside down by the birth of our son.  A year that has been positively
wonderful; I have found myself completely content for the first time in my
life.  I hadn't realized how much I'd missed the small pleasures single life
had afforded me, though, until Mulder surprised me with the gift I am
enjoying at the moment.

I'd gone to do an autopsy as a favor to another agent earlier in the
afternoon.  It had taken longer than I expected and I wasn't surprised to
find him already gone from the Bureau when I finished.  The drive home was
long and tiring.  Bumper to bumper traffic made worse by the sheer fact that
it was Friday evening was enough to drive anyone crazy.  I couldn't wait to
get home.  I was surprised, however, when I entered our home to the sound of
one of my favorite classical music CDs playing on the stereo, and the house
lit only by the fading sunlight outside.

"Mulder?"

He came around the corner with a small smile on his lips, dressed casually
in jeans and a black sweater.  He approached me and gave me a gentle kiss in
greeting.

"Wha --"

My question was cut short by his finger on my lips.  I was not used to this.
Whenever it would happen that one of us beat the other home for the day, we
always began supper and could be found in the kitchen with a small TV on in
the corner, our child playing on the floor nearby.  This calmness was a
mystery to me.

He took my purse and briefcase from my hands and placed them on the floor in
the corner of the room, then returned to take my jacket.  I continued to
give him an inquisitive stare; he continued to give me a mysterious smile.
He took my hand and led me to our room.  As we passed by the nursery -- the
only room lit at the moment by artificial lighting -- I saw our son playing
happily in his playpen.  Mulder sat me on the bed and removed my shoes and
gun.  I gazed around the room taking in the fact that the bed had been
turned down, the blinds were open to allow the red glow of the sunset in,
and there were various candles strategically placed in every corner.  Only
when my shoes were completely off and placed in their usual home under the
bed and my gun locked safely with his in the nightstand did he speak.  He
kneeled on the floor in front of me and looked up into my face.

"This evening is for YOU. You are to completely relax and enjoy yourself.
No work is allowed.  Short-stuff and I are headed out for an evening of
picking up chicks.  You deserve this time."

My mind began to race, wondering if I had forgotten it was my birthday or
something.

"It's just a little gift from me to you, for no reason at all.  It just
seemed to be the thing to do."

I gave him an incredulous look and began to smile from ear to ear.  He
responded with a smile of his own.  He stood quickly and turned towards the
door.  I stood also and caught his hand as he exited the room.  I followed
closely behind him, still clutching his hand, as he made his way back to the
nursery.

"Hey little man!  Ready to go?"

The boy looked up at his father with a smile and pulled himself up to stand.
It was then that I noticed he was indeed dressed to go out wearing a pair of
jeans, his tennis shoes, and a white turtleneck shirt.

"Ready Daddy."

I smiled as Mulder bent to pick him up.  I stepped back and watch him move
to pick up the bag of various things needed when traveling with a child.

"Where will you be?"

"That doesn't matter, does it?"

He turned back towards the door where I stood, giving me another mysterious
smile.

"Mulder.  I'd just feel better if I knew where you two were, so I can find
you if I need you for any reason."

"I'll have my cell phone with me."

I glared at him as he passed me on his way to the front of the house.  He
turned to face me when he got to the door.

"Guys' night.  We are headed over to the Gunmen's for awhile.  We won't be
out too late.  YOU --"

He leaned forward and kissed me soundly.

"YOU are going to stay here and relax.  Enjoy yourself."

"All right.  You two be careful."

Mulder leaned forward and whispered into the boy's ear, and then the two
faced me.  My son looked at me with the most serious face before speaking.

"Promise, Mommy."

I smiled and gave my baby boy a kiss on the forehead.

"Take care of Daddy."

Then I kissed Mulder.

"You take care of Daddy, too."

He laughed and in his free hand he presented me a folded piece of paper.  I
frowned at the paper, but took it nonetheless.

With that, he turned and left, whispering a soft "Bye."

As the door clicked closed, I looked at the paper in my hands.  I unfolded
and read the simple message.

"Bath"

I turned the paper over, but all it said was that one word.  I made my way
back to our bathroom.  I opened the door and was hit by a steamy heat, the
smell of vanilla and strains of Verdi's 'La Traviata: Overture.'  The room
was lit with candles and I entered it with a high level of curiosity.  The
soft light revealed a speaker in the corner that had never been there.  I
followed the wire with my eyes as it ran out the door on an apparent journey
to the stereo in our bedroom. I also found a large fluffy towel hanging
beside the bathtub, and new pajamas placed on the rack above it.  I pushed
the shower curtain to the side to reveal a bathtub full of vanilla-scented
bubbles.  Steam rose from the water and my sore muscles ached even more,
reminding me of my full day, full week, hell -- my full year.

I stripped quickly and lowered myself down into vanilla bliss.  Now as I
sit, I let the strains of Mendelssohn, Mozart, and Tchaikovsky wash over me.
I close my eyes and sink into the suds slipping just below the surface to
dampen my hair.  I re-surface and reach for my shampoo.  It is also vanilla
scented.  As my hand reaches around the bottle, it finds a slip of paper
taped to it.  I wipe the soap out of my eyes and inspect the sheet of paper.
In Mulder's handwriting it reads simply:

"I love you."

An indescribable feeling wells up from deep inside and I choke on a half sob
and a half laugh.  I carefully remove the paper and lay it on the floor
beside the tub in an attempt to keep from smearing the ink any more.  I wash
my hair, shave my legs and just soak until the water gets too cool against
my skin.  I pull the plug on the tub and reach for the towel.  I dry off,
and wrap the towel around my torso.  I comb my hair out and reach for the
pajamas.  They are brand new, and are my favorite kind.  The blue silk is
soothing to my skin.  I slip into the bottoms first, then the top.  I look
in the mirror and I am startled by how the color matches my eyes.  I turn to
retrieve the note and find another one on the floor under the shelf where my
pajamas had been.  I pick them both up and inspect the new one.

"Food."

My curiosity is piqued and I can't extinguish the candles in the bathroom
and the bedroom fast enough.  I deposit my discarded clothes on the chair in
our bedroom as I move to the kitchen/dining room.  There I find more lit
candles, another speaker filling the room with music and a meal for one on
the table.  The homemaker in me notes that the breakfast dishes have been
washed and put away, along with any dishes that were used in making the
meal.  I can't help but wonder how early Mulder took off today.

I sit at the table and uncover my plate.  I discover my favorite salad,
homemade, in front of me.  I uncover another dish and find a bowl of chicken
noodle soup, kept warm by the heavy cover.  I note that it is all served on
the china my mother gave us awhile back.  An empty crystal glass sits beside
a bottle of wine.  I reach for the wine, and under the bottle is yet another
note.  I fill my glass and reach for the note before replacing the bottle in
its original location.

"I have always loved you."

The feeling returns, but this time I simply smile.  I eat my meal to
Beethoven, Bach, and Debussy.  When I finish, I stack my dishes and pour
myself one more glass of wine.  I carry the dishes to the sink and return to
the table where a small dish still sits.  I uncover it to find a small slice
of apple pie.  Under the dish is one more note.   I inspect it, already
excited about what I might find.

"Warmth."

I frown and sit down to eat my dessert.  I'm stumped.  I decide that he must
mean the living room and the fireplace, but surely I'd have noticed if there
was a fire lit when I got home.  I place the dish with the others when I
finish.  I put out all the candles in the room, and I move to the living
room, wineglass and notes in hand.

I decide that I am right when I see a slip of paper taped to the glass cover
of the fireplace.  I set what I am holding on the coffee table beside the
couch and turn on the lamp.  I peel the note off the glass.  There is
nothing written on it.  I open the glass and find that everything is there
to start a fire.  I work quickly to get it lit, and soon I have a bright
fire warming the room.

I then turn back to the couch.  Folded on the far end is an old quilt of
mine that my grandmother gave me when I was in junior high.  Now faded, it
continues to be a comfort to me as it reminds me of an old woman's love for
a shy red-head who was always asking "how?".

On top of the quilt are two books. Upon closer inspection I find that the
one on top is my old worn out copy of 'Wuthering Heights'.  The second book
is my journal.  Beside the journal are my glasses, Mulder's favorite Cross
pen, and a bottle of silver nail polish.  I chuckle and pick up all the
items and move them to the other end of the couch closer to the fire and the
lamp.  I lay the books, pen and polish on the table beside my glass.  I
unfold the blanket and wrap it around my shoulders as I sit down.  I reach
for the polish and quickly paint my toenails.  I had never used silver
before, always opting for clear on my fingernails and pink on my toes.  The
silver gives a unique look that accents the new pajamas nicely.  I slip my
glasses on and take the pen and my journal and fill a page and half with
details of my day, including Mulder's gift to me.  With that finished, I
reach for the book.  Though I have read the story many times, I am excited
about diving into the story of Heathcliff and Catherine.  I open the worn
book and yet another slip of paper falls out and lands in my lap.  I pick it
up and turn it over.

"I will always love you."

This time my eyes fill with tears, and I once again ask myself how I got so
lucky.   I sit and stare at the paper for a full five minutes before I lay
it on the coffee table with the other two notes from earlier.   I open the
book once again and began to read.  I am beginning to drift off to sleep
when I hear the front door click open and then shut.  I look up from the
book as Mulder enters the room with a sleeping child on his shoulder.  I
feel myself smile -- genuinely smile.  Mulder notices and begins to do the
same.  He puts a finger to his lips and points towards the nursery.  I nod
and he leaves the room.  I sit back and realize that I have loved every
moment of this evening, but that I am happiest now that the two most
important people in my life are back home.

I use the slips of paper to mark my place in my book.  I stand up and fold
the quilt.  I move to the fireplace, poke it a few times, and leave it to
die out on its own.  I gather the various items off the coffee table and
move towards the bedroom, stopping in the kitchen to place my now empty
wineglass in the sink.  As I pass the nursery, I pause for a moment to watch
Mulder gently put our son to bed.  I continue my journey to our room.  I
don't turn on the light.  The full moon has bathed the room in a soft silver
light through the still open blinds.  I add the notes from earlier in the
evening to the others in my book.  I lay the books, polish, pen and glasses
on the bedside table and then turn to the stereo to stop the CDs that have
been playing all night.  After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I
slip into bed, shedding my pajama bottoms because they always ride up my
legs and end up annoying me.

I lay quietly listening for Mulder's soft approach.  I deduce that he has
shed his shoes by the almost complete lack of noise.  I smile, proud of
myself, when I see his white socks.  I watch with hooded eyes as he begins
to get ready for bed himself.  He sheds the sweater and moves to lay it on
the chair.  He pauses and has an amused expression on his face when he sees
my clothes remain there from earlier.  Soon his jeans and socks join the
rest of our clothes.  He stands facing the window in his black boxers with
his back to me.  The moonlight gives his skin a silver shine, just as it
does the rest of the room.  It sparks off his gold wedding band in perfect
contrast. Suddenly I want to do more than observe this sight; I want to be a
participant in it.  I slip out of bed and move quietly behind him.  I shiver
at the draft against my now bare legs.  I wrap my arms around his waist
before he can turn around.  I lay my cheek against his rapidly cooling back.
He covers my hands with his own.

"Thank you."

My words are barely a whisper.  I turn and kiss his back before moving
around him.  He lifts his arm and I slip under it.  My arms remain around
his waist and he envelopes me in a tight hug.  He rests his head on mine; I
press my cheek against his chest.  We both stare out the window at the empty
street.

"Thank you for everything."

He turns his head and drops a kiss on my hair.  I look up into his eyes.  It
is almost as if I can see deep into his soul, and all I see is love.  Love
for *me.* It takes my breath away.  I can never get used to seeing it.  I
hope I never do.

His face begins to move closer to mine.  I close my eyes as our lips meet.
The kiss deepens and the air around us begins to fill with a growing
passion. Hands begin to roam as I try to touch all of his moon-kissed skin.
His hands do the same, leaving my skin fevered as all chill that had
previously plagued me disappears.  I groan as he pulls away.  When I open my
eyes, I find passion and lust have joined the love in his eyes.  He steps
away from me and reaches for his discarded jeans.  Out of his back pocket he
retrieves one last slip of paper.  He hands it to me with an almost shy
smile.  I take it and grin knowing that I will more than willing to comply
as I read the word etched on it in the familiar handwriting.

"Bed."




The End.

07/30/2000

(Now send me some feedback.  *g*)

If you like what you read, come visit my page at:
http://www.geocities.com/saddledreams/


Author notes/thanks: First, thanks to my vanilla-scented shampoo for
inspiring me.  (Honest!)  Second, to Brandy for telling me it was good, not
to toss it out and to keep going.  Also for helping me in a last minute
search for poetry that fit this story.  Last, but most certainly not least,
my "twin" (I still call you that!) for doing such an awesome job beta-ing.
I can't thank you enough for taking your time to help me and for giving me a
much needed boost.  The whole wedding band thing -- I left it ambiguous
before the end on purpose, because I see it being something they would do on
the show (and hope they WILL do).  We won't see anything, but one day there
will be wedding rings on their fingers.  :o)    (This is why the keywords
don't read Mulder/Scully Married.  I wanted it to be a small surprise.)