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Daylight is a Long Way Off


Notes: This was supposed to be a 200 line smut punishment for the "I Want To Believe" list. It is neither 200 lines nor very smutty. I guess that angst is all that will come out for me these days... Many thanks to the great beta by dtg and DS.

She tries not to focus on the suitcases she knows are sitting in the living room, waiting for him. She tries, instead, to focus on him...he's here, right now. They'll worry about the suitcases and what they mean in the morning. For now he's here, in her bed and that's all that should matter.

"I don't..."

"Mulder, don't. Not tonight, please," she pleads. She doesn't want to think about it before she has to. She knows it's denial, but right now that's the only thing that's keeping her from screaming.

"He's so beautiful, Scully. Everything about him is perfect."

She looks over at their child. He is perfect. His mouth is like a little rosebud, his tiny fist just slightly touching his soft lips. She hadn't known how much love would flow out of her, how much this little creature would mean to her...to them.

"It's the best thing..."

"Not tonight," she responds, this time more sharply.

He drops his eyes, looking away from her. She knows he doesn't mean to hurt her. She knows the pain she feels and can only imagine what it is like for him.

She reaches over and lifts his chin so she's looking directly into his hazel eyes. "I want this night to be for us, for all of the ones we've wasted, to make us remember, later..."

He nods and leans in to kiss her. She knows she has to be careful, but there are still plenty of things they can do...even if he just held her all night, that would be enough...enough to last as long as it took for them to all be together again.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asks.

No, he can never hurt her, even tomorrow...

She shakes her head and returns this kiss. She pulls him over to the bed. They kneel on the mattress, facing one another. She runs her hands across his chest, it is broad and regal, strong. She has seen him in this gray t-shirt so many times, but this time feels different.

They have not had many nights together. Fate has conspired to separate them, just as they have discovered what it means to be together. Only a few times before Oregon and now, when they have finally been honest, it is time for him to go again.

"Stop," he says. He knows that she's dwelling on his impending departure. She can't help herself. It's hard not to fixate on it, what it will mean for all of them.

He unbuttons her shirt. It's dirty and stained from the baby. He touches one spot and smiles at her. She knew immediately that he loved their child. It's clear in everything he does and says.

He touches her breasts. They are engorged with milk. The baby is a good eater, but there is always more for him. As he fingers her nipples, a little milk slips out. He slides his finger across it, then sucks the finger into his mouth. He smiles at her. It pleases her to see him taste her.

"May I have more?" he asks. She nods. He may have anything he wants. He leans her back against the pillows and slips her pants down. She lifts her hips a couple inches and he pulls them free, then her panties.

"God, you're incredible, Scully."

She smiles. She knows that she's still carrying much of the weight from the baby, but it feels like a badge of honor for the work she's done, for the child she's given him.

He trickles his hands from her breasts to her waist and down between her legs. She trusts him to treat her gently. She knows he will.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Of course."

His fingers touch her clit and she raises her hips slightly. It's very sensitive there right now and although the bleeding has slowed, she's still quite wet down there. He sits back, his fingers again raised to his mouth.

"You're so sweet."

He moves so that he's sitting over her, one leg on either side. He pulls his t-shirt off, his legs still clad in sweatpants.

When he returns, it's not with his fingers, but his tongue. She writhes slightly as he probes further. This is new for them, but good. His presence is good. She reaches down to touch his shoulders, then moving her hands into his hair. She pulls him closer to her, increasing the pressure. It hurts, but the pain is refreshing, it helps her know that it's real, that he's still here.

Her hips quiver, pleasure coursing through her veins. He lifts his head and smiles at her. She relaxes against the pillows, completely happy. He slips up and takes her in his arms.

"Are you okay?" he asks again.

"Yes, I'm...it's perfect," she says, slipping her arms around him. Their bodies wrap around one another. They lie there for a moment, until the baby begins to fuss.

"I'll get him," he says, slipping from her arms. He brings the baby to her and watches as the little one latches onto her breast.

She watches as he slides his sweat pants down. She smiles as she see he's erect. He slides into bed next to them, kissing her as their child suckles at her breast.

"He'll be done soon," she says, running her hand down to touch his erection.

"No, don't rush him," he answers, his eyes intent her and the baby.

The baby asleep again, she moves him to the cradle. She crawls back into the bed, now facing him. She slips her small hands down under the covers, once again. She touches the head of his penis as he gasps slightly. It's been so long for them, and it will be so much longer until the nex time, but there will be a next time. She pumps her hand along it until he shakes and then releases.

He slides even closer, his legs entwined with hers. She tries to memorize every inch of his body, running her hands over his face, his ears, down his neck and across his chest. She doesn't want to forget the pucker from the bullet she put in his, the jagged scar on his leg or the fading scar down his chest. Finally she lays her head on his chest and sleeps.

When she wakes she hears him in the shower. She knows that the time is coming. She slips into her robe and moves to make him coffee. The baby wakes. He's hungry. She moves to close the door, to not see him as he prepares to go. She can't live with the image. Instead she will remember as he was, how they were the night before.

He is gone, but it is not over.

FIN

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