Title: Time of Your Life

Author:Emerald Starburst

E-mail: apriltwoseven@aol.com

Website: None

Fandom: Law & Order/X-Files

Archive: X-Files Fuq-Q-Fest Archive.

Status: Part One of Two

Rating: NC-17.

Feedback: Please! Onlist or private e-mail.

Categories: Alternate Universe. Mpreg.

Crossover-Law & Order/X-Files.

Summary: Oops! Someone is pregnant. Whatever shall they do?

Pairing: Fox Mulder/Mike Logan

Warnings: M/M. Mpreg. Mention of past child abuse. Mention of Het.

Disclaimer: The Usual. I don't own them. Wish I did. Just borrowing them for awhile to play. Not making any money here. Honest.

Authors Notes:
#1 In this Alternate Universe, male pregnancy is possible though very rare.
#2 Inspired by authors like nikita and rose campion. #3 Special thanks to nikita for being a wonderful beta and suggesting an X-Files spin to the mpreg.

Challenges: #1 Crossover with another show. #2 Mulder must at one point say, "You are naked and you are not in your right mind." #3 Write an MPREG into the story.

Additional Note: // indicates thoughts. XXX indicates flashbacks.

Time of Your Life
by Emerald Starburst

Prologue:

Mulder and Scully wearily entered their motel room. It was a roach infested dump, but it beat sleeping in the car, which was something they had done too often the past three months. Since they had narrowly escaped annihilation after the last meeting with Cancer Man (Oh, how Mulder prayed the bastard was really dead!), their days consisted of changing vehicles every few days and traveling every back road from Oregon to Virginia and back. They kept contacts with their allies brief and infrequent.

Mulder saw his helpful dead once during that time. While lying awake watching tv holding a sleeping Scully in his arms, Alex Krycek stepped out of the shadows and handed him a slip of paper. It was a phone number and the password to an account in the Cayman Islands. "Thank you," he whispered. Krycek smiled and stepped back into the shadows. The very large account, he never did know how large, kept them alive and running. Scully never asked him where the money came from, and he blessed her for that. Their mutual trust was complete, and they were confident that somehow they would subvert the alien invasion.

One day, the running ended.

They entered the room, and he was sitting there on a rickety chair at a rickety table. It was the alien Gibson Praise had exposed at Mulder's mock trial. He sat there like a kindly old uncle and smiled invitingly. Scully and Mulder looked at each other. There was no need to speak. If he was there, then there was no point in running. They sat on the bed, side by side, held hands and waited.

"Agent Mulder, you have been an annoyance to us. Not a major annoyance, mind you. We would have terminated you long ago if you had been. No, you were a gnat, constantly buzzing in the face of destiny. We brushed you away, but you always came back more irritating than before."

"I don't understand," Mulder said. "I was never successful at stopping the plans for colonization."

The alien nodded amicably. "True. Yet, you never completely failed. Locations had to be changed, loose ends eliminated, schedules altered. Much valuable time was lost, thanks to your efforts. And in your wake, you left behind fellow gnats. Your partner, Agent Scully. Agent Doggett. Agent Reyes. A.D. Skinner. Young Mr. Spender. Kersh was a most unpleasant surprise. Others, merely more gnats, but a swarm of gnats can goad a huge beast to its destruction. Thus, we have decided to reschedule the colonization."

Mulder's heart leaped in his chest, and Scully squeezed his hand until her knuckles turned white. "Rescheduled," Mulder echoed when his vocal chords would cooperate.

"Yes, the date of the invasion is no longer 2012, it's 2073. Long after you and your gnats will be dust." He smiled again. "Our species is millions of years in advance of yours, Agent Mulder. Our lifespan is measured in centuries. A few decades here or there is just the blink of an eye."

Behind the alien, Mulder saw the shadows in the corner flicker. X stepped forward. "He's telling the truth, Mulder. It's over." He turned around to leave, stopped, and looked back over his shoulder. "For now." He faded back into the shadows.

Mulder turned his attention back to the alien. "Say we believe you. What now?"

"Now? Nothing. Go back to your lives. Go home." He stood up and walked to the door. On his way out, he said, "We considered not telling you, but it amuses us sometimes to indulge in the human concept of 'closure'." He looked at Scully for the first time. "Agent Scully. Just to show you we have no hard feelings, look in the bathroom. Call it a parting gift." He closed the door behind him.

Guns drawn, Mulder and Scully approached the bathroom. Carefully and slowly, Mulder opened the door. They peered inside and their jaws dropped.

Sitting beside the stained and rusted bathtub was a blue portable crib. Inside, sleeping the sleep of innocence, was baby William.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In all their years in the X-Files, there was nothing more surreal than their journey back to Washington, D.C. They packed up William, hauled ass to the nearest payphone, and called A.D. Skinner.

"Mulder! Thank God, you called. You won't believe this."

"Don't bet on it," he said grimly.

It was just as the alien had said. There was a rash of sudden resignations and retirements from the Bureau and Congress. There were also some complete disappearances, which strangely went unreported in the news. Mulder and Scully had been on extended personal leave and there was no record of a trial. Not that there had ever been a record. Time had been rewound, and it was as if Mulder had never disappeared. Friday night, Mulder and Scully sat on the old leather couch in the apartment at Hegal Place, drinking beer, and not watching tv. William slept in his crib nearby.

"Well, Mulder," said Scully. "What do we do now?"

"It isn't over, Scully. The aliens are still out there. They're just biding their time, hoping we'll forget the threat while we earn our daily bread. We won't forget. We'll find a way to protect the future."

"That, we will," said Scully, taking Mulder by the hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But what do we do tomorrow?"

"Hell if I know," Mulder admitted. "Go back to work, I guess. Life will sure be dull." They laughed.

Mulder would soon regret saying that.

December 25, 2002
2:32 am

Mulder found himself in the apartment of an NYPD detective, facing said detective naked and profoundly aroused. So was the detective.

//How did I get here?// he asked himself and thought back over the last few hours.

Mulder and Scully were working a case in New York in conjunction with the Staten Island police. Local cemeteries had been plagued by a rash of grave desecrations, and they had been called in as experts because the local profiler believed it to be the work of Satanists.

However, it was almost immediately apparent to Mulder that they were instead dealing with a fetishist whose MO was disturbingly close to Donnie Pfaster's. His conclusions turned out to be identical to the ones drawn by the original investigating officer, Detective Michael Logan.

Detective Logan was not only extremely attractive but possessed a lively intelligence that complimented his own. It had been a pleasure to work with the man, and together they shouted down the other detectives and the NYPD profiler to find the fetishist before he graduated to serial killer. He was a little puzzled when he overheard the lieutenant muttering to himself about "birds of a feather" and "I should have known when I saw the tie".

They apprehended the suspect just as he was about to claim his first 'warm body'. The next day was Christmas Eve, so the Staten Island cops decided to throw a combination Christmas Eve, farewell, and Halleluiah-we-caught-the-bastard party. The party was attended by all off-duty personnel, and was declared casual dress. Seeing Mike Logan in faded jeans-was he wearing underwear?-and a dark blue shirt was an eye-opener. He was tall, dark, smouldering, and utterly delectable in denim. Mulder sighed and lamented that all the good ones were straight.

Scully had begged off early, and Mulder was getting ready to leave himself, when Logan's partner, Frankie Silvera, stopped him.

"Mulder, could you do me a favor? Mike's had a little too much holiday cheer, and I'd take him home myself, but he lives way over in Manhattan and your hotel is just a few minutes away from his apartment and..."

"I'll be glad to drive Mike home," he assured her. He was going to sorely miss the detective, and he was grateful to have an opportunity to talk with him a little more.

Unfortunately, talking was a skill Logan had temporarily lost. Silvera had somewhat underestimated Mike's state of inebriation. After an extremely friendly, "Mulder, howsit goin?", he'd slumped over Mulder bonelessly. A lopsided grin was his only reply to Mulder's questions. In the car, Mike suddenly found his voice, but it was only to sing. Tunelessly, and enthusiastically, he belted out all the choruses to 'Lydia, the Tattooed Lady'.

As much as he would have liked to continue one of their esoteric discussions, Mulder found himself enjoying this side of Mike Logan. While they worked together, the man had been deadly serious and almost morbidly intense. As phenomenally sexy as that was, it was good to know Mike could be light-hearted, even if only while intoxicated.

Mulder pulled up in front of Logan's apartment building. Mike had started to doze, and Mulder shook him awake.

"Wha'?" he said, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy toddler.

"You're home, Mike. Let's get you upstairs."

"Okay."

Mike had sobered enough by that time to mostly walk himself up to the second floor apartment. He handed over his keys meekly when Mulder asked for them. He led Mike inside intending to pour him into bed and take his leave. That was when the rules changed.

As soon as the door shut, Mike pushed Mulder up against the door and covered him with his body. His hands were everywhere, peeling off their coats, stroking Mulder's face, back, and ass. All of it in seemingly one motion.

"What the fuck!" Mulder exclaimed. "Mike, what are you. . .Oh my god."

Mike was smiling down at him ferally, shedding his clothes. The blue shirt hit the floor, followed by a sleeveless white t-shirt. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off the socks slowly, like a burlesque striptease. Mulder could only lick his lips when Mike unsnapped his jeans and let them fall.

"Oh. My. God." Mike 'was' wearing underwear, and now Mulder knew why he couldn't detect a seam. They were satin. Black satin boxer shorts. They covered all but concealed nothing, the flowing fabric outlining a very impressive hard on. Feeling as if he'd just stepped through the looking glass, Mulder didn't protest when Mike grasped his hands and guided them to his satin-cloaked ass.

It was like touching wet skin, and Mulder imagined it was the next best thing to having sex in a pool. Mike didn't have a jock's body, but he was toned and firm in all the right places. Mulder cupped the gluteals and squeezed them firmly. MIke responded by sighing deeply and resting his head in the crease between Mulder's neck and shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment.

Suddenly, Mike pushed away, and Mulder thought for one terrible moment that he had somehow misunderstood. Then the boxers were gone and there stood Mike in all his glory.

Some sort of sanity seemed to seep into Mulder's brain at that time, and he tried to speak. "Mike."

Mike knelt at his feet and started to undo his pants.

"Mike." No response, Mike continued to remove his pants.

"Mike." Still no response, and Mike had pulled out his penis and was ghosting his fingers tantalizingly up and down the hard shaft. While he could still think, Mulder took a deep breath and tried one more time.

"You are naked and you are not in your right mind. Mike, are you sure you want to do this?"

In answer, Mike opened his mouth and, without warning, swallowed Mulder whole. "Oh, crap!" Mulder screamed over his orgasm. He literally saw stars. "Mike, do you even 'have' a gag reflex!" He blacked out.

When Mulder could again think, he realized he was no longer leaning against Mike's front door. He was in a bed, naked, with Mike pressed against him.

"Mike..." he tried to say, but Mike put a finger to mouth and then replaced it with his lips. They were a little dry and tasted of stale beer and his own come, but it was a wonderful kiss just the same. It was deep and warm and unselfconsciously sweet. Mulder didn't need air. Not when he could have kisses this sweet in exchange.

Mike broke the kiss and placed something in his hand. It was a large bottle of Astroglide. "Fuck me," he said.

"Mike..."

"Please," he pleaded, his voice cracking with the strength of his emotion.

Mulder sighed and hoped he wasn't making a horrible mistake.

"Turn around," he instructed softly. Mike obeyed without hesitation, turning onto his left side.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered.

Mulder placed a hand between Mike's shoulders and slid it down the curve of his back to the crease of his buttocks. Mike shivered under his touch.

"Please," he whispered again.

Mulder positioned himself beside Mike and squeezed some of the lubricant on his fingers. He spread the cool gel over his fingers and Mike's center and then gently inserted one digit.

Mike didn't move, but Mulder heard him hiss in pain.

"Damn, you're tight! Mike, have you ever done this before?"

A long moment passed before Mike answered. "It was a long time ago." When Mulder didn't continue, he added, "Please, keep going. I want this. I need this."

Mulder pulled out his finger, added more lube, and inserted two fingers. Slowly, he scissored them, stretching the tight muscles.

"Yes," Mike whispered, pushing back on Mulder's hand. "Yes!"

Satisfied he wasn't hurting Mike, Mulder added a third finger, searching for Mike's prostate gland. When Mike arched his back and shouted, "God, yes!" he knew he'd found it.

Liberally coating his cock with lube, Mulder stroked the back of Mike's head. A layer of sweat made his hair appear midnight black, and his skin was flushed with arousal.

"Mike, I'm ready to enter you. Is that okay?" Mike nodded wordlessly and began to take deep breaths.

"Raise your right knee to your chest."

Mike did as instructed.

Mulder drank in the sight of Mike's body, open and ready for him. He placed the tip of his penis at the opening and slowly pushed it in.

Mike shuddered and started to pant more loudly. "More," he said when Mulder stayed where he was.

Ever so carefully, Mulder sheathed his cock in Mike's body. He used his hands to stroke Mike's belly and chest to help him to relax. At last, he was all the way in. "Mike, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, just move. Please."

Though it was killing him, Mulder rocked slowly back and forth, trying to hit Mike's prostate with each deliberate thrust. From the moans and gasps he heard Mike uttering, he mostly succeeded.

Mulder felt Mike's belly and scrotum contract just as he orgasmed with a muffled scream. Mulder followed a few seconds later. He quietly disengaged himself, found the bathroom, and returned with some damp washcloths. Mike was sleeping soundly and didn't awaken even when Mulder was wiping him off. He returned to the bed and spooned up behind Mike for a post-coital snuggle.

Mulder awoke about an hour later. Mike was sound asleep, sprawled limply over the bed. And it was only then that he realized they had forgotten something important.

"Fuck!" Mulder had completely forgotten to use protection. A brief glance into Mike's bedside stand comfirmed his suspicion for it contained a recently opened box of condoms. //Stupid// he cursed himself. Mike had the excuse of being drunk, but Mulder had been sober enough to remember and if he'd just asked Mike would have handed over a condom just as he'd done everything else Mulder had asked of him. Well, at least he 'had' condoms, which meant that Mike was probably clean, but God, what a stupid risk!

Mulder watched the man sleeping and wondered at the tenderness he felt. It was almost like what he felt for Scully, but there was passion here. Something he and Scully had never found together no matter how hard they had tried.

Mulder decided to let Mike sleep, and he made a mental note to get tested as soon as he returned to D.C. He wrote a detailed note saying how much he wanted to see Mike again and how New York and Washington D.C. weren't all that far from each other. He ended the note with his phone number, address, and e-mail addy.

He dressed quickly, cursing the fact that he had to catch a plane in two hours. He kissed Mike gently on the forehead and left.

Mike awoke a few hours later. He stretched, wincing a little from the soreness in his ass. He found the note Mulder left on his kitchen table. Still naked, he took it back to the bed and read it through serveral times.

He let the letter fall through his nerveless fingers to the floor. Mike curled up on the bed in a fetal position and started to rock.

"Oh, God. What have I done, what have I done, what have I done..."

Mike repeated the words over and over, rocking and sobbing as though his heart would break.

Six Weeks Later

Mike crouched over the toilet and tried to will his stomach to stop heaving. It didn't listen. He continued to retch miserably for several minutes before he could safely walk away. He splashed water on his face and tried to rinse the taste of bile from his mouth.

"Hey, Mike," Frankie yelled from the other side of the door. "Are you okay? You didn't fall in, did you?"

"Funny, Silvera." He opened the door and his partner nearly fell in. "Didn't your mother ever tell you never to hang around the men's room?"

"I never listen to my mother. My grandmother, on the other hand, was a great old broad." She presented Mike with a metal thermos.

"What's this?"

"My grandmother's cure for a queasy stomach. Ginger tea. Her own recipe."

"Give it a rest, Frankie. It's just that bug that's going around."

"That lasts for two or three days. You've been upchucking for the better part of a week. Try it. It helped me when I had morning sickness." At Mike's look, she shrugged. "Hey, nausea is nausea. Give it a shot."

"If it'll get you off my back," he grumbled. He poured a half cup into the lid, blew on the hot liquid, and sipped.

"Well?"

"It's not bad," he admitted. "And my stomach is settling a little."

"Told you. Ready to go?"

"Sure. We have lawnmower thieves to catch."

Twelve Weeks

"I don't believe it! I don't fucking believe it! We bust our asses to nail that bunch of lawnmower thieves, and now that it turns out they're dealing crack on the side, Narcotics takes it away from us! This sucks!" He kicked the trashcan by his desk so hard it bounced off the far wall. Fortunately, no one was in the way.

Frankie marched over to her partner, grabbed him by the arm, and said, "Break room. Now."

Mike's temper flared for an instant. Then he saw the concern in his partner's face and it died. "Fine."

The break room was empty at that time. Frankie shut the door and confronted her partner. "Well?"

"Well, what? Okay, I was pissed, I lost my temper. It's not a secret I've got a short fuse."

"Not like this, Mike. You've been acting weird for weeks now."

"Oh, come on!"

"Mike, last week you nearly took off Pirretti's head for taking the last jelly donut. Two days ago, I had to stop you from shoving that perp's face through a wall because he spit on your shoes."

"Yeah, that's really uncharacteristic."

"Mike, you've got a temper, but you're not stupid. Except for that time you punched out that city councilman, you know where the line is. You like to dance on the edge, but most of the time you don't cross it. Lately, you've been crossing. And then there's what happened yesterday."

"What? What happened yesterday?"

"I saw you take off. I followed you to the car. Mike, you were sitting in the car, crying, for no reason."

"I don't want to talk about this." Mike made a move to leave, but Frankie grabbed his arm.

"I'm not finished! First, I thought you were getting burned out, then it hits me. You look like crap, and you're losing weight. You're still throwing up, aren't you?"

"No, I am not still throwing up." Though if they stayed in the break room much longer, he probably would. The smell of cigarettes and coffee had been making him nauseous recently, and the break room reeked of both.

"Then why did you ask me for my grandmother's recipe for ginger tea? Don't think I haven't noticed that humongous thermos you keep in your car. You're chugalugging that stuff by the gallon, aren't you?"

"I decided to cut out the coffee for awhile. That's not a crime. I'd know, I'm a cop. Can we go back to the job now?"

"Mike, as a friend, I'm asking you. See a doctor. Maybe it's something that can be fixed."

//And what if it can't?// crossed his mind. Mike kept his expression blank, but a cold chill filled his stomach, threatening to set off the nausea Frankie's tea had been keeping at bay.

"Look, Frankie," he said aloud, "I admit, I haven't been feeling great lately, but it's no big deal. I'll stay in my next off day and spend it sleeping in and getting rested up. If it doesn't help, I'll see a doctor. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "But if you don't feel better soon...?"

"I'll see that doctor. Let's go back to work."

That night, Mike pulled Mulder's letter out of his bedside stand. He ran his fingers over the worn paper, staring at the words as if the message would change. He reached for the phone. Picked it up. Hung it up without dialing.

He turned out the light and went to bed, hugging his pillow and thinking about Fox Mulder's hands.

Eighteen Weeks

Mike didn't know how he dragged himself out of bed that morning. The nausea had finally stopped plaguing him, but his appetite had decided to take a vacation. Before work, he made himself eat half a plain bagel and had a glass of milk to wash it down. He had a headache from caffeine withdrawal because he still couldn't stand the smell of coffee, he felt weak as a kitten, and Silvera was furious with him.

"Dammit, Mike, you look worse than ever. You need to see a doctor."

"I don't need to see a fucking doctor. Get off my case, Frankie." His fear put an edge of warning in his tone, but Frankie wasn't having any. She was about to lay into him again, when the lieutenant addressed them.

"I called you two into my office. Am I keeping you from your kaffeeklatsch?"

"Coming," said Mike. He stood up, and a wave of heat and dizziness engulfed him. "I...I..." Mike tried to say something, but he couldn't get the words out. Then the floor leaped up and hit him and the world faded to black.

Mike was in a world of warmth and soft darkness. It felt good. He heard voices, but they seemed to come from a long way off, and he ignored them. Suddenly, his nasal passages were on fire.

"Christ!" he swore, shot straight up and nearly banged heads with a man leaning over him.

The man, wearing a paramedic's uniform, calmly disposed of the ammonia ampul.

"He's awake," he announced to the room filled with gawking detectives.

"Oh, really, do you think so?" Mike growled.

The paramedic ignored his sarcasm and spoke into his radio. "Patient is now conscious. We are ready to transport."

"No way!" Mike found to his embarrassment he was already on a gurney ready to be wheeled out the door. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Sir," said the paramedic, "I think you should reconsider. A healthy adult just doesn't pass out for twenty-eight minutes without a reason. Plus, your blood pressure..."

"What about my blood pressure?" The paramedic hesitated, and the lieutenant spoke up.

"What's he's saying is that you're a stroke waiting to happen. Go to the hospital, Logan. Don't come back without a doctor's okay, or I'm going to declare you unfit for duty and chain you to a desk. Is that clear."

"Yes, sir," Mike said with poor grace and lay back down on the gurney.

"Silvera, go with him."

"Yes, sir."

Hegel Place
Same time

Fox Mulder was running late for work. He dashed out of the bedroom and stopped dead. Alex Krycek was lying on his couch, glaring at him.

Krycek sat up and spoke coldly. "Mulder, you have so screwed up."

"Nice to see you, too, Krycek. Being dead agrees with you. If you don't mind...?"

"I 'said' you screwed up. The Powers that Be wanted things to happen naturally. I knew you'd mess it up somehow, but you surprised me at first. You actually managed to pull it together at just the right time. But you didn't follow through, dammit!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The future of humankind, you ass. Only the most important element in the fight against the alien threat, and thanks to you its very existence is in question!"

Krycek had stood up and started stalking toward Mulder, and now they were standing eye to eye. "We haven't given up fighting, Krycek. We have our group. We're building alliances..."

"Yes, I know. Your little tete a tete's with other UFO loonies. Encrypted websites. Cell groups. Copied and hidden computer disks. All very nice. And all useless unless a real leader is there when the time comes!"

"Nice spiel, Krycek. If you could come to the point sometime this century?"

"Mike Logan."

Mulder was brought up short. "Mike? What's he got to do with this?"

"Doesn't matter right now. I've said too much as it is. What does matter is that he needs you. Right now." When Mulder started to protest, Krycek interrupted him, "You'll find him at St Mary's Hospital in Staten Island."

"Hospital? He's hurt?"

Krycek smiled. "Mulder, that sounds like concern. Good. Go to him. Now. Before it's too late." Before Mulder could question him further, Krycek disappeared into the shadows.

Cursing Krycek, the Powers that Be-whatever the hell that meant, and stubborn detectives who refused to call, Mulder ran down the stairs to his car. He called Scully on his cell phone to ask her to call in sick for him and started the four hour drive to New York.

St. Mary's Hospital

Detective Frankie Silvera nodded wearily as her commanding officer continued to yell at her over the phone.

"Lieutenant, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you what I don't know. I know he's been here all morning. Yes, they've done every test I think they can do. What? No, sir, he's sleeping now." Frankie gave her partner a worried glance. "Yes, sir, the doctors took one look at his blood pressure and admitted him. Look, I'll call you as soon these doctors tell us something. Yes, sir. Bye." She hung up the phone with a sigh.

"I'm awake." Mike opened tired eyes and looked up at his partner. "Still no sign of the doctors, huh?"

"Not yet." If anything, Mike looked worse. He was deathly pale and there were dark circles under his eyes despite his two hour nap. "I think they're still evaluating the test results."

There was a quick tap at the door just before it opened. Mike was expecting a doctor or a nurse. What he didn't expect to see was Fox Mulder.

"Hi, Mike. Silvera."

Mike was speechless, so Silvera spoke up. "Mulder, what are you doing here?"

"I heard Mike was sick and I came as soon as I could."

"How?" Mike asked, finally finding his voice.

"I have my sources," he said with a faint smile. "What's wrong?"

After a slight pause, Mike said, "The doctors haven't said anything yet."

"But you think you have an idea?" Mulder persisted.

"Maybe."

Silvera looked from her partner to Mulder and back again. There was a very strange vibe coming from the two men. "Mike, if you think you know something, don't you think you should tell the doctors?"

"Maybe Mulder has something he needs to tell 'me'." The tone was sarcastic, but Mulder could detect the underlying fear. Then it clicked.

"AIDS? You think I gave you AIDS?"

Mulder started laughing to Mike's consternation and fury.

"You think this is funny!"

"God, no, Mike. You don't get it. When I returned to D.C. I went straight to a clinic. You know, where you can be tested for AIDS and STDs anonymously? I was tested, retested, and triple tested. If you have AIDS, you didn't get it from me."

Mulder walked over to Mike and cautiously laid a hand on his shoulder. When Mike didn't flinch, he pulled him into a light embrace. "If you had called me, I would have told you."

Something inside him seemed to shatter at Mulder's touch, and the man was so gentle and ..."Oh, God," said Mike and sagged into Mulder's arms. "God! God! God!"

Frankie stood there, slack-jawed, as Mulder held Mike and rubbed his back. //Mike slept with a guy. Mike is gay. Mike is gay and slept with a Fibbie.// She truthfully didn't know which part boggled her mind the most.

"Dammit," said Mike. "If I don't have AIDS, what the hell is wrong with me?"

"Perhaps I can help?"

All three of them jumped. While they had been distracted a short, thin, black woman of about forty-five had entered them room. She looked at them severely through her horn-rimmed glasses, then she smiled and offered her hand to Mike.

"How do you do, Mr. Logan. I'm Dr. Irene Temple. I was called in as an ... expert."

"An expert in what?" Mike asked cautiously.

"Mr. Logan, may I suggest that your friends wait outside while we talk?"

"No! Mulder," he said, grasping his sleeve, "if it's bad news, I'd just as soon you stayed. Okay?"

Mulder nodded his assent.

"Frankie, you too. If you still want to stay."

Frankie shook his head to clear it. Well, Mike was the only partner she'd ever had who had treated her like an equal. Hell, that should have told her something! "It's alright, Mike." His relief told her he understood she'd meant it to be more than just about staying.

"Right. It is bad news, isn't it?"

"Not really. It's just that I think you're in for a surprise." She sighed. "I'm afraid there's no easy way to put this. Mr. Logan, you're pregnant."

"Very funny, now tell me what's really going on."

"Mr. Logan, I do not joke about these things. My area of expertise is Dual Sexuality. You are Dual Sexed. You. Are. Pregnant."

Silence.

Then, "Jeeze, Mulder, you knocked Mike up!"

Both men gave her a look that would have frozen the East River. "Sorry. It's just...sorry."

Mike buried his face in his hands. "This is not happening."

"There are experts?" Mulder said in honest surprise.

"Well, I'm the closest thing there is at the present time. I've helped three men through their pregnancies. All of them delivered healthy babies." She directed the last statement to Mike.

"Since you're the damn expert," said Mike, uncovering his face to glare at Dr. Temple, "why did I pass out?" He was tired, frightened, and embarrassed, and it pissed him off.

"Mr. Logan, you're suffering from exhaustion, malnourishment, and severe anemia. I'd venture to say you've been functioning on sheer willpower for several weeks and you've had no pre-natal care. Also, your blood pressure is 220 over 115."

"I've never had high blood pressure," he protested.

"You've never been pregnant before," she pointed out. "It's no wonder you passed out. The hypertension could be stress-related, or it could be an early sign of pre-eclampsia. I'm also guessing you didn't know about your Dual Sexuality?"

Mike mutely shook his head.

"Dr. Temple," Mulder said, desperate to understand what was going on, "how could he not know? Shouldn't Mike have had some inkling he was Dual Sexed?"

Mike's hostile look was replaced by an amused one. "Mulder, don't tell me there's actually some arcane knowledge you haven't investigated?"

Mulder was about to give Mike a smart retort, but Dr. Temple headed him off.

"No, Mr. Mulder, there is no way to tell from an external examination that a person has Dual Sexuality. Shall I give you the short lecture?"

"Yes, please," said Mulder, eager to have some sort of explanation for this highly unlikely situation.

"Dual Sexuality, or DS, was first discovered about twenty years ago. No one knows why this particular mutation suddenly appeared, though I and several colleagues have their own theories. We do know it occurs in one out of ten thousand male births." Dr. Temple had shifted into doctor/lecturer mode. Scully often did the same thing, and it annoyed him to no end. Scully, had she known, would have found that amusing, since he often did the same thing himself. "The DS individual appears to be a perfectly ordinary male, but he possesses the functional internal reproductive organs of both male and female."

"So, why not call them hermaphrodites?" Mulder asked.

"Because that would be incorrect. To be a true hermaphrodite, the individual would also have to possess both the male and female external organs, which Mr. Logan obviously does not." She gave him a look that said, 'May I continue now?' Mulder shrugged, and she took that as a positive response.

"Dual Sexuality is usually discovered as an incidental finding during an ultrasound or abdominal surgery. Accidental pregnancy is rare."

"Lucky me," Mike muttered.

"There are approximately two thousand Dual Sexed in the United States," Dr. Temple stated. "We don't have an exact figure because many individuals remain undiagnosed."

Mulder sighed internally. This was one of the things he and Scully had never had the time to fully investigate, but they were fairly certain that this was one of the byproducts of the Syndicate's attempts to create human/alien hybrids. One or both of Logan's parents had probably been infected when they were immunized for the smallpox virus, a method the Syndicate had used to 'tag' humans and possibly introduce other things. Like extra genes. He wondered how many generations humanity would be cleaning up the messes the Syndicate had made. Mulder forced
his mind back to Dr. Temple.

Dr. Temple removed her glasses and looked Mike directly in the eyes. "Mr. Logan, all of your adult life you've been certain of your place in the reproductive cycle. You've just had the foundation of that certainty shattered. You have to deal with an unplanned pregnancy. You're stressed. You're exhausted. You're frightened. All of that is normal."

"Normal, huh? Well, what if I don't want to deal with it? What if I want an abortion?"

"I'd say that would be your choice," Dr. Temple answered smoothly. "Unfortunately, you don't have that option."

"What are you talking about? What about pro-choice?"

"I am very pro-choice, Mr. Logan. But...You wouldn't happen to know when conception occurred?"

"December 25th," Mike said resignedly.

"Oh, yeah," agreed Mulder.

"That tallies with the ultrasound results. You're at eighteen weeks, nearly halfway through the pregnancy. It's too late."

"Fuck!"

"Okay," said Mulder, feeling a need to take some control, "Mike and I haven't had a chance to talk privately. Could we have a few minutes? Please?" he asked the two women.

"Of course," said Dr. Temple. Frankie gave Mike's shoulder a squeeze, and they walked out of the room.

"Alone, at last," Mulder ventured as a feeble attempt at levity. It fell flat. Mike started picking at the sheet, declining to add anything to the conversation.

"Mike, my feelings about this situation are a little mixed. Hell, the fact you can even be pregnant is blowing my mind. And when you get to know me better, you'll realize that's saying something. Do you really want an abortion? Even if you could?"

Mike shrugged. "I guess not. Even though I don't believe in it anymore, I was raised Catholic. I couldn't live with myself after. My God, what am I going to do with a baby? The thought of me being a parent is ludicrous." Mike rubbed his face with his hands to hide the fact he was about to cry. "Do you want me to have it?"

"I think so. It's a shock for me, too, but I think I want this child." Mulder raked his finger through his already dishevel hair. "Why didn't you call me? Back in December, I left my phone number and my address. I left a note asking you to call me. I know it was just the one night, but I thought it might be a beginning. When I didn't hear from you, it hurt. I thought I was just another notch on Mike Logan's bedpost." Mike muttered something that Mulder couldn't quite make out. "What was that?"

"I couldn't," MIke repeated. "I was too ashamed."

Mulder felt his stomach twist. "You're ashamed you had sex with another man?"

"No! I mean, I was ashamed because I...used you."

"Excuse me? 'You' used 'me'? Mike, you were drunk. I was relatively sober. 'I' fucked 'you'. Obviously. Most people could make a good argument for my using you."

"You don't understand!"

"Mike, please, calm down. You're right, I don't understand. Explain it to me."

"I just...I just wanted the nightmare to go away." Mike was shaking. He pulled his knees up to his chest and started to rock. Mulder the psychologist put the pieces together and came up with a very sick picture. Carefully, he returned to Mike's side. He put his hands on Mike's shoulders, prepared to draw away if he startled. Mike seemed to accept the touch, so he pulled Mike into an embrace. Mike didn't resist, but he didn't fall into it either. Mulder decided that it would do for the moment.

"Mike, please, tell me. What happened?"

"I...I like men. I always have. But every time I thought about having sex with another man, the face would turn into...his."

"Whose face, Mike? Can you tell me?"

Mike didn't answer at first. He rocked, but allowed Mulder to continue the embrace.

"He hurt me," Mike said at last. "I told him he was hurting me, but he wouldn't stop."

"How old were you, Mike?"

"Twelve."

Mulder gritted his teeth and held back his outcry. Mike didn't need his rage right now. "Who was it, Mike?" he asked, hoping the pervert was in prison and thus saving him the trouble of killing the bastard.

"He's in jail, Mulder. He didn't stop with me. It finally caught up with him." Mike sighed deeply. "I was an altar boy..."

Christ! It was almost a fucking cliche. "I am so sorry, Mike. That sounds so inadequate, but it's all I can say."

Mike shook his head. "No, you don't get it. You're the one who changed everything. When I met you, I knew you were different. I could feel you were attracted to me." Mulder shifted slightly. "It's okay, you weren't the first guy to be attracted to me. But you didn't push it. You backed me up when everyone said I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong."

"You think the higher ups care? Once again, Logan was bucking the system! Screw the truth, just don't let Logan be right. You didn't let what anyone else said about me affect how we worked together. Mulder, you're passionate about your work, you care about people, and I felt myself drawn to you. For the first time, I could think about another man in a sexual way without puking. So, when I realized we were alone in my apartment, I went for it. And it was wonderful."

"You don't see that bastard's face anymore?"

"No. Now all I see is you." Finally, Mike relaxed into Mulder's arms. Mulder gently stroked Mike's hair as they rocked together.

"Fox," said Mulder.

"What?"

"Call me Fox."

"I thought you didn't like your first name."

"I don't, but it's ridiculous for someone I've been intimate with to call me by my last name."

"Scully doesn't call you Fox."

"I never slept with Scully."

Mike pulled back and stared up at him wide-eyed. "I thought you said she had your baby?"

"In vitro fertilization. She wanted a baby. I supplied the sperm." Okay, it was the Reader's Digest version, but it was the truth. "I love Scully, Mike, just not that way. We thought it would turn into a relationship, but it didn't work out."

"Then there's really nobody else?"

"That depends, Mike. How about us?"

"Us? I don't know, Mulder...Fox. We barely know each other."

"We'll take it a step at a time. For now, let me take care of you. Just until you get back on your feet," he hastened to add before Mike could protest. "Let me help you take care of our baby. It will be much easier if there are two people involved, and I want to know this baby."

Mike swallowed. "If we do this, you can't just walk out on me,...Fox. I don't think I can do this alone."

"You won't be alone." Mulder made it a solemn vow.

Nineteen Weeks

"Well, here we are," said Mulder, as he held the door open for Mike. Mike's iron level had gone up and his blood pressure had gone down, so Dr. Temple had discharged him with two sheets of strict do and don't and two big bottles of pills.

"Yeah, home sweet jail." Mulder sighed. Mike had at least one week of bed rest ahead of him, and when he was allowed back to work it would be to a desk. As a result, Mike was pissed.

"Mike, come on. Try to make the best of it. Look at it as a mini-vacation." Mike just looked at him. "Well, you can catch up on your reading."

"Yeah. 'What to Expect When You're Expecting/The Dual-Sexed Edition'. I thought the doc was kidding until she actually brought out the book."

Mike walked over to the couch and sat down. He sighed and laid his head back.

"Mike..."

"I know, I'm supposed to be in bed. I'll get there in a minute."

"Okay. Fine. As long as you're up, are you hungry?"

"Starving." Ever since his anemia resolved, Mike's appetite had kicked in with a vengeance. "I'd love a steak, but I'll settle for pizza."

"It's no problem, I've got a couple of steaks in the refrigerator. Are potatoes and a salad alright?"

"You went shopping?" Mike asked, puzzled. He looked around for the first time since he came home. He'd let Mulder stay at his apartment, since he'd come barrelling into New York without so much as a toothbrush. Mike expected the place to be picked up a little but...

"Did you hire a maid?"

"Funny, Mike," Mulder called from the kitchenette. "You aren't exactly a slob, and it doesn't take that long to clean up an efficiency apartment. Plus, the only food you had was an almost empty bag of stale bagels and half a quart of milk. Which I found on the kitchen counter, by the way, rapidly turning into cottage cheese. That made grocery shopping something of a necessity."

Mike closed his eyes and laid his head back down. "I forgot to put it back. Damn." Mulder was about to remind him that Dr. Temple had warned him that memory lapses were common during pregnancy, but he decided against it. "I'll put the steaks on," he said aloud.

Mike laid down on the couch and watched while Mulder puttered around his tiny kitchen. True, he wasn't a slob, but his apartment usually had the lived in look of many professionals' apartments where the owner spent little time actually living there. All the surfaces were dusted, the carpet was vacuumed, and the bed was made. Somebody was taking care of Mike Logan, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Could Mulder...Fox...really care about him? Or did he just feel guilty about the baby?

While the food was cooking, Mulder pondered the enlightening talk with Dr. Temple about the DS facts of life.

XXX

"Here you are," announced Dr. Temple as she spread her papers on the beside table.

Mike was sitting up in bed, and Mulder sat beside him. Both leaned over the table and looked intently at what the doctor had brought them.

"Okay," said Mike. "What are we looking at?"

"This," said Dr. Temple, as she tapped at a picture labelled illustration #1, "is a diagram of the female uterus."

"Yeah," said Mulder, regarding the inverted pear-like structure. "I recognize it from first year biology. And?"

"And this," she now pointed to illustration #2, "is the uterus of an individual with DS."

After a few seconds, Mike remarked, "It looks like a pair of tube socks."

"Absolutely fascinating, isn't it? What you're seeing is a deeply bicornated uterus, almost a double uterus."

"Uteri," Mike remarked absently. Mulder did a mental double-take. There was a great deal more to Mike Logan than met the eye, and every now and then little things like this would remind him of it.

"Actually," said Mulder, "it looks familiar, but I can't think from where."

"You must have had some advanced training in biology," said Dr. Temple knowingly.

"Advanced Forensic Science---Oh, my
God," said Mulder suddenly. "Cats!"

"Cats?" asked Mike in bewilderment.

"Cats are often used as subjects in dissection classes. Yuck," said Mulder. "I almost failed that class. When I saw the insides of that cat, I threw up on the professor."

Mike rolled his eyes. "This from the guy who strolls around crime scenes with dismembered corpses, through labs analyzing various bodily fluids, and I saw you interrogate the Staten Island Grave Robber. Did he ever go on and on about fingers and noses and..."

"Hey, I was twenty. Cut me some slack here." Mulder was starting to enjoy the conversation, but Dr. Temple cleared her throat and the men decided to behave.

"Yes," said Dr. Temple, agreeing with Mulder's prior statement, "the uterus is remarkably similar to that of the cat. In a way, it's a shame Mr. Logan is only carrying one baby. The DS uterus could theoretically support between four and six. It's almost as if someone designed it for that very purpose."

Mike saw Mulder pale and laughed. "I know how you feel! The thought of carrying six babies doesn't for much for me either."

That wasn't what was making Mulder ill. //My God,// he thought, //is that what they were planning? Human incubators for their hybrid slaves?// Mulder added another item to his list of Things To Tell Mike After The Baby Is Born. It was becoming a lengthy list.

"So how's the kid going to get out?" Mike asked. Mulder winced. He had a very good idea of the answer.

"Well, Mr. Logan, the same way it went in."

"I want drugs," he said a second later.

"We can discuss birthing options at a later..."

"Drugs. Lots of them."

"Well, you can't have 'lots of them', but an epideral is certainly a possibility."

"Great. I want that."

"Mike," said Mulder, desperately trying not to laugh, "you have nearly five months to decide. Let's let Dr. Temple finish telling us about the nuts and bolts, okay?"

"I already decided," he said, but he settled back down to listen.

"Very well. Here we have the anus, and the rectum, just as everyone has, though in this instance they double as the birth canal." She pointed to the illustration again, "Where the sigmoid colon would be, is the cervix. Normally, it remains closed off, until it's stimulated to open by the presence of sperm. Or at least that's the prevailing theory. Ovulation occurs at that time as well."

"That's why Mike doesn't have a period?" Which was a good thing. Mike with PMS did not bear thinking about. "He only ovulates when...ah..."

"He engages in anal intercourse," finished Dr. Temple. "You have it in a nutshell."

XXX

The oven timer went off, and Mulder went to check on the steaks.

An hour later, they had finished dinner, and Mike was stripped down to t-shirt and boxers and settled in bed. Mulder, despite Mike's protests, was propping him up with pillows and generally fussing around him.

"You don't have to do this," Mike said for the third time.

"I know I don't have to, Mike. I want to do this. I care about you and the baby. I missed four and half months of this. Let me play catch-up, okay?"

Mike muttered under his breath, but he stopped fighting the attention. After Mike was arranged to Mulder's satisfaction, he went to the couch and pulled out a box he had stored behind it. "Here," he said, handing Mike the box. "Call it a belated baby gift."

Damn, but the box was heavy. Mike popped the lid and nestled inside was a laptop computer.

"What is this for? I can't accept this!"

"Yes, you can, and I did it for very selfish reasons. You were the world's worse patient in the hospital, and I don't expect that to change while you're stuck at home. Now, you have a nice new toy to play with so you don't get bored and drive me insane. Say, thank you, Mike," he prodded.

Mike gave one of his trademark half grins. "Thank you, Mike," he said sweetly.

Mulder snorted. "George Burns just rolled over in his grave. Would you like to see how it works?"

Mulder was just getting to the part about the wireless modem, when there was a knock at the door.

"Who's there?" he yelled through the door.

"Mulder, open up, it's me."

//Oh, God,// thought Mulder as he opened the door to let his partner in. Scully was standing in the hallway with a suitcase he recognized as his own. "I only asked you to send me the clothes, not bring them yourself."

"Sure," she huffed, breezing past Mulder and tossing the suitcase on the couch. "After the message you sent Kersh, you expected me to just twiddle my thumbs in D.C. until you deigned to tell me what the hell was going on?"

"Hello, Agent Scully," said Mike. He stood up, ignored Mulder's frown, and put his hand on the small of his back. Damn, his back was sore.

Scully opened her mouth to utter a scathing reply. Then she closed it, her eyes wide in shock.

"Scully?" said Mulder, worried.

"You're pregnant!" she said.

"And you're a witch! Mulder did you..."

"Not a word. Honest." Mulder looked at Mike carefully, and then he saw what Scully saw. He smiled.

"What?" said Mike, irritably.

"Well, you're not really showing yet, but apparently the baby has gotten big enough to shift your center of gravity. You 'stand' like a pregnant person. Especially when you put your hand on your back." Mike quickly pulled his hand away.

"Crap."

"I take it," she asked with a little ire in her voice, "that the reason you're here is that you're the... other parent?" Mulder hated it when she spoke in that tone.

"That's right."

Scully nodded briefly and then slapped the back of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?" The slap had really hurt.

"For being an idiot. Both of you. You're too old not to know better than to engage in unsafe sex."

"Swell." Mulder rubbed his head. "Mike, please get back to bed. We'll talk, okay? All of us," he said in answer to the look Mike and Scully were giving him. Mulder had put off the inevitable long enough. He had to start thinking of himself and Mike as a couple, and that meant bringing him up to speed about who Fox Mulder really was, or at least hit the highlights. 'Everything' would take a few years!

Two Hours Later

Mike was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat listening to Mulder pound on the door.

"Oh, come on, Mike! You can't stay locked in the bathroom forever!"

//Wanna bet?// he thought. //Dear God, I'm having the child of a crazy person who thinks he was abducted by aliens from outer space! Who thinks aliens are out to take over the world. Who thinks---God know what else. God! What did I do to piss you off!//

"Mike." This time it was Scully. "I know you don't want to hear this, but everything Mulder told you was the truth."

//And he's got his partner brainwashed!//

"Mike," said Mulder, "please come out! If Scully can't convince you I'm telling the truth, I can get some others. How about an Assistant Director of the FBI? Hell, I can get two to back me up!"

Mike took some deep breaths. "I think that you 'believe' what you're saying. That's what scares me!"

//Damn,// thought Mulder, //and I didn't even tell him the worst part. I definitely don't tell Mike about the aliens being responsible for DS. At least not until the baby is born.//

"Mike," said Mulder, "okay, I get that you don't believe me about the aliens. That's alright. There's only one thing that I need you to believe."

Mike tensed. //What now? Werewolves? The Easter Bunny? Elvis lives?// "What?" he asked aloud.

"I care about you and our baby, and I would never do anything to harm either of you."

Mike rested his head on the edge of the sink and thought. Hard.

"Mike?"

The lock clicked open and, to Mulder and Scully's relief, Mike walked out.

"You will never talk about any of this again," said Mike. "As far as I'm concerned, you have a weird hobby that I will try to pretend you never mentioned. Is that clear?"

"As crystal," said Mulder, holding his hands up in surrender.

Twenty Weeks

Six days went by. Mike ate, slept, and played with the laptop. He did not say one word to Mulder.

Mulder, sitting on the couch pretending to read a book, looked at Mike surreptitiously and worried. //I wanted us to be a couple, and I didn't want any secrets between us, so I told him the truth. Will be ever trust me again?//

The phone rang and Mulder answered.

"Hello."

"Hi, Mulder."

"Hi, Scully." Mike had looked up briefly when the phone rang, but he went back to the keyboard when he heard Scully's name. He studiously avoided Mulder's eyes.

"So, is Mike talking to you yet?"

Mulder sighed. "No."

"Well, what did you expect? The man just got out of the hospital, and you hit him with this."

"Thank you for your support. You called because...?"

"Delahaney."

"Who?"

"AD Delahaney. The head of the New York office? He wants to meet with us to discuss our transfer."

"Today?"

Mulder could almost hear Scully roll her eyes. "Mulder, after that email you sent to Kersh, you're lucky you're still in the FBI." The day after Mulder learned of Mike's condition, he sent an email to AD Kersh requesting an immediate transfer to the New York office. 'And if my request is denied, please consider this my resignation.'

"I am, too," Mulder agreed. "I meant it, though."

"I know," she acknowledged in a softer tone. "Can you be there in an hour?"

"I don't know. I hate to leave Mike alone."

"I don't need a keeper," MIke said. "If you have something to do, just go."

Finally! Mike was talking to him. He still wouldn't look Mulder in the eye, but he was talking.

"Scully, I'll see you there."

Scully said goodby and broke the connection. Mulder put the phone down and faced Mike.

"So, are you over being mad?"

Mike stayed silent so long, Mulder thought he wasn't going to respond. Just as he was was about to turn away, "I wasn't mad."

"Then why haven't you been talking to me?"

"You scared me. Just when I thought we were moving closer together, bam, you hit me with this alien garbage. It's not that you believe in this stuff that bothers me, Fox. I've met some people who believe in weirder stuff. It just smacked me between the eyes that we really don't know a thing about each other." Mike unconsciously wrapped his arms protectively around his belly. "I'm pregnant with a stranger's child."

"Christ, Mike!" Mulder felt like having a minor emotional outburst of his own, and he decided to indulge. "I could give you chapter and verse about Fox William Mulder, and you know what? We would still be strangers, because all I could tell you would be facts. And facts are not what people are about. Facts are not what turn people from strangers into lovers. Feelings are what make the difference. Feelings and shared experiences.

"The few weeks we spent together last December told me all I needed to know about you, Mike. You're a warm, intelligent, passionate man. You feel about your work much the same way that I do. You care about people, maybe too much. And," Mulder took a deep breath and took the plunge, "I love you."

Mike said nothing. He looked down at the floor, but Mulder could see his hands shaking slightly.

"Before, in the hospital, you said that the man you used to see in your dreams was the monster that molested you. Now, all you can see is me.

"Can you still see only me?"

Mulder pulled on his jacket and left the apartment. Mike stared at the door.

"Damn you," he said to the empty room. "Damn you and God help me, yes. I still see only you."

Fifteen Minutes later

Alex Krycek appeared in the passenger seat and Mulder nearly veered into oncoming traffic.

"Fuck, Krycek!" Mulder swore. "You could give a person some warning!"

"Turn around, Mulder."

"What?"

"Logan is in danger. Turn around!"

"Shit!" Mulder made an illegal u-turn, leaving honking horns and shrieking brakes in his wake.

"It would be useful to get there alive," Krycek snarked just before he vanished.

Same time
Logan Apartment

Mike's furious self-examination was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mike swore, got up, and looked through the peephole. Surprised, he opened the door. "Lieutenant Stobar, what are you doing here?"

The Lieutenant didn't answer. He just raised his eyebrows in an 'Are you going to invite me in' expression.

Mike sighed. "Come in."

Stobar came in and Mike shut the door behind him. Mike wished he was wearing something besides a set of gray sweats and socks, but he decided to make the best of it.

"Well, what brings you..." That was as far as he got before a hand grabbed the front of his shirt, lifted him like a rag doll, and then threw him across the room. Mike hit the far wall spread-eagled and then slid down to the floor.

Mike shook his head to clear it, looked at his attacker, and then he shook his head again. For a moment it looked as if Stobar's face was shimmering. Mike looked up again. The face stopped shimmering and became someone else. A white male in his late thirties, short dark-blond hair, and a build that a prizefighter would behold with awe.

"What the hell?" Mike's words were cut off when the man reached down, grabbed him by the throat, and hauled him up. Mike could feel the hand cutting into his airway, and he fought to get air. He hit his attacker as hard as he could on the face, neck, and body, but it was like hitting a granite wall. Mike willed himself to stay conscious, somehow knowing that once he blacked out he was dead. But he was losing the battle.

"Please," he forced out with the little bit of air still in his lungs. "Baby. Going to..."

"Don't worry," said the man. The total lack of emotion in his voice and on his face chilled Mike to the bone. He watched helplessly as the blond man reached in his pocket with his other hand and brought out large hunting knife. "I won't cut it out until you're dead."

//No! Oh, God, please. I'm so sorry, Fox. I didn't believe you, and now our baby is going to die. I didn't tell you I loved you. Please, someone, help!//

Mike's eyesight was beginning to gray around the edges, and he heard a dull pop he could have sworn was a gunshot. Abruptly, the huge hand let go and the face, still without expression, fell away. In it's place, Mike saw Mulder in a shooter's stance, holding a smoking gun.

In a shuddering sob, Mike pulled air into his starved lungs. As he exhaled, he said, "Fox." His voice was barely more than a whisper.

At once, Fox was at his side, pulling him up and away. "Mike, help me, we've got to get you out of here."

"Fox..."

"Mike, come on!" Mike last view of the interior of his apartment was the image of his assailant dissolving into a puddle of green slime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mike lay in the hallway, panting and trying to get his breath back. Mulder propped him against the wall, said, "I'll be right back." He was halted by Mike's hand on his sleeve, holding the fabric in a deathgrip. "Mike..."

"I love you," he wheezed.

Mulder's eyes popped. "He hit you in the head, didn't he?"

"I love you," Mike repeated. "Thought I was...dying...never get...to tell you."

Mulder gently pried Mike's fingers loose from his suit and he held the hand in his. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Trust me."

"Always." Mulder heard alarm bells going off in his head. This was not good, but he didn't have time to analyze Mike's behavior right now. He ran back into the apartment and came back a few seconds later with MIke's shoes. He pushed them onto his feet, pulled him upright, and started walking them to the elevator.

"Where...?" MIke started to ask.

"Save your breath. Downstairs to the car. We need to get you away from here."

"Police..." Mike wheezed.

"We'll talk in the car. There may be more of them around."

A few minutes later, they were seated in Mulder's car. Mike said, "Okay." He swallowed, his throat was still sore, but it was easier to speak. "Okay, we're out of the apartment. Let's call the police."

"And tell them what? Officer, I was attacked by an alien bounty hunter. The father of my baby killed him. The body? Oh, that dissolved into a puddle of green goo."

Mike opened his mouth, shut it, then whispered, "Damn."

"Damn is right. Best case scenario, they laugh us out of the precinct. Worst case, they call Children's Services and arrange to take our baby away."

Mike felt cold fear fill his stomach. "I have been more afraid since I've been pregnant than I have in all my years as a cop. Shit!" Mulder noted that Mike was still hoarse. He reached over and touched his throat. Mike winced.

"We've got to get you to a hospital."

Mike shook his head, suddenly very tired. "You said..."

"I meant we couldn't tell them the truth. At least not all of it. But you need medical attention, if only to keep Dr. Temple off our backs."

"I think my brain is still oxygen deprived. Why would the doc be on our case?"

"Mike, you have an appointment with Dr. Temple tomorrow. The doctor will examine you. She will see the bruises. Hell, I can see them already," Mulder said with dismay as the purplish-blue blotches started appearing on Mike's throat. "If we don't go to the emergency room, we don't report an assault, and we refuse to tell her how you were injured, what do you think she's going to do?"

Mike thought quickly. "Christ, she'll report a suspected case of Domestic Violence."

"And once there's a police report to that effect, it'll haunt us forever."

"What do we do?"

"Let me think. The best lies consist of partial truths." Mulder put his profilers' brain to work on the problem.

Twenty minutes later
Hospital ER

The physician pulled the curtain around the examination table and smiled at his next patient. "What seems to be the trouble?"

"I was mugged."

Fox waited outside the curtained area. He was wondering why the chairs in hospitals were always hard and uncomfortable when the curtain was pulled back.

"You can come in now, " said the doctor.

"How is he?"

"Everything seems good. The bruises look worse than they are. The swelling in the larynx is a bit worrisome, so we'll keep Mr. Logan overnight for that. The fetal heartbeat is strong, but we've notified Dr Temple to be safe. Her service told us she's on her way. I'd also like our own OB to take a look.

"Ah," he continued, "here he comes. We're fortunate that the head of the department was available."

"Hello," said the new doctor, a personable, balding, middle-aged man. He held out his hand. "My name is Dr. Dalbert."

"Touch me and you die," Mike said. To Mulder's amazement, he was dead serious.

"Now, sir, I know you're a little stressed. Just let me take a look." Still smiling, he patted Mike on the shoulder.

Thirty Minutes later

"I can't believe you!" Mulder shouted. "Do you know you broke that man's nose!"

"I told him not to touch me," Mike answered smugly.

"That's the only reason he's not pressing charges! Plus, you're pregnant and you were just mugged. A good lawyer could probably get you off with a diminished capacity defense." Yet, all the while Mulder was ranting, inside he was cheering. //Yes! This is the hotheaded Irishman I fell in love with! He's okay!//

"Man, I should have gotten pregnant years ago. You can get away with murder."

"Mike," Mulder hissed. "An explanation would be very good right now!"

"I'd like to hear that myself," said Dr. Temple. "Hello, Mr. Mulder. Well, Mr. Logan? Do you assault all your obstetricians? Understand, I have a vested interest in the answer."

"Only the ones I arrest."

Silence.

"Mr. Logan, you arrested Dr. Dalbert? He's one of the most respected obstetricians in New York State!"

"He's also a crook. Hey, Fox, remind me not to have the baby at this hospital. I don't like their hiring practices."

Dr. Temple looked thoughtful. "I do remember some talk about some shady financial dealings, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with his skills as a physician."

Mike snorted in disgust. "He's a psycho with delusions of grandeur! The only reason he's not in Sing Sing is that none of his victims would press charges."

"Okay, Mike," said Mulder, "you wouldn't be this upset about a fraud case. What did the good doctor do to get your Irish up?"

"You mean other than inseminate all his female patients with his own sperm?"

Dr. Temple gasped, "What?"

"His own sperm. He had about thirty offspring and counting when we had to drop the case."

"That can't be legal," said Fox.

"It isn't...now. At the time, there were no laws in place to protect people from that kind of unethical conduct."

"That's incredible," said Dr. Temple. She took off her glasses, cleaned them, and them put them back on. "Well, in that case, a broken nose was too good for him.

"Now, tell me how this happened. You were supposed to be on bedrest," she informed her patient sternly.

Mike took a deep breath and gave her the story he and Mulder had come up with. "I know, I know, but I was going stir crazy. I just went downstairs for a breath of air, five minutes tops, then I was going right back to bed.

"I'd just walked outside when this lowlife comes up to me, pulls out a knife and says, "Give me your wallet." Well, I didn't have a wallet. The bastard doesn't believe me, throws me against the building and starts choking the life out of me. He must have been on something, because I hit him hard, and it didn't faze him. He was about to gut me when I heard Fox yelling."

Mulder supplied his part of the story. "I'd forgotten my cellphone, and I went back to get it." Before driving to he hospital, he tossed his phone in the trunk. If for some reason the police felt compelled to search for it, he could explain it must have fallen there. "I saw what was going on, pulled out my gun, and told the guy to let Mike go or I'd shoot. The perp dropped Mike and took off running. I thought getting Mike to the hospital took precedence over catching the bastard, and here we are."

"Understandable. Well, let's check you out, Mr. Logan."

"Mike. It's getting really awkward calling each other Dr. Temple and Mr. Logan."

"Whatever you're the most comfortable with. I'm Irene."

"And I'm Mulder," Mulder quipped. "Only people I sleep with get to call me Fox. Right, Mike?"

"Right, Fox."

Dr Temple rolled her eyes and started her examination. Mulder went to make a belated phone call to Scully.

That Night
The Hospital

"This sucks," said Mike, trying to get comfortable in his hospital bed. "I just got out of the hospital."

"Well, I have something to keep you busy," Mulder said, and presented Mike with some sections of various newspapers.

"Real estate ads? What for?"

"Mike, you live in a one room apartment. Where are we going to put the kid? The bathtub? We need a house."

"A house? How can we afford a house? You on the take?"

Mulder smiled. "No, but my parents left me some property. I'll sell it. It should be enough for a decent house."

"You're already moving your whole life to New York. I feel bad taking all your money. Besides, you should be putting some of this away for William." Mulder was silent. "Fox?"

"William is no longer my responsibility," Mulder responded softly. "Scully is engaged to marry Walter Skinner, my old boss at the X-Files."

"Okay. So?"

"So, they asked me to surrender my parental rights so Walter can adopt William."

"Crap! They've got no right to do that!"

"Yes, they do. I wasn't around for them when they needed me, Mike. Walter was. It wasn't my fault, but it's the way it is. William calls him Daddy," Mulder concluded.

"Son of a bitch. You really love that kid, don't you?"

Mulder nodded. "I love him enough not to play tug of war with his affections. Scully and Walter love him, too. I'll be around, just not as his Dad. I'll be Uncle Mulder."

Mike reached out for him. Mulder climbed into the bed and they held each other close. "You know, this is the closest we've been since Christmas without some kind of crisis going on?" Mike buried his nose in Mulder's hair and took a deep breath. "It feels good."

"Yeah, it does."

Silence.

"Fox, something just occurred to me. How 'did' you know I was in trouble?"

//Oh, God. Well, it was nice while it lasted.// Mulder sighed. "Mike, are you sure you want to know?"

"It's something weird?" Mulder nodded silently. "Yes, I want to know. I get the feeling it is no longer safe for me to live in ignorance."

"Agreed. This is big, though. I've never even told Scully about this, and I tell Scully everything." Mulder took a deep breath. "I see dead people."

Silence, and then, Mike started laughing.

"Uh, Mike, you're not hysterical, are you?"

Mike shook his head, still laughing. "No, I think I just reached my mind-boggle threshold. I don't think I'll ever be shocked by anything you tell me again."

"Don't make any wagers," Mulder warned. Then he joined in the laughter. He figured they might as well enjoy it while they could.

Twenty-Two Weeks

It was a two story Victorian. The neighborhood was gay-friendly and the schools, both public and private, were excellent.

Mike sat down on the front porch steps. He was extremely tired and a little depressed. Mulder was inside talking to the real estate agent.

"Let me talk to Mike. We'll give you our answer this afternoon."

Mike heard Mulder shut the door and walk to the steps. They sat quietly for a few minutes.

"Mike, it's the right price," Mulder ventured.

"I know."

"It's a beautiful house."

"I know."

"It's got everything we wanted. Three bedrooms. Two baths. I had the building inspected, and the structure is sound. The wiring was redone two years ago. All the rooms were just redecorated. All we need to do is buy some furniture and paint the nursery."

"I know!"

"Mike, what's...?"

In a voice that broke more with sorrow than anger, he exclaimed, "It's Staten Island!"

That afternoon they signed the papers and made a down payment on the house.

==============

The next day, Mike walked over to his desk and greeted his partner. "Hi, Frankie." He sat down at his desk.

"Yo, Mike." Frankie saw him fingering his belt. "Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I just have to get these pants let out."

Frankie grinned wickedly. "Finally starting to show, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess." He looked around the squad room. "So, do you think they'll stop anytime soon?"

"Stop what?"

"You know." Mike had hoped when he started back to work, he wouldn't get too much ribbing. He anticipated a lot of, 'So, old Tomcat Mike Logan got caught in his own trap. Heh, heh, heh.' Instead, he'd gotten a 'Hi, Mike,' and then the cold shoulder. "It's a good thing I'm not on the street. I'd have a hole in my back by now."

"Mike, it's not that bad. Well, it's not," she insisted when he gave her a look. "It's only been a few days, and most of the guys have only read about DS. They never knew anybody who actually had it. It's just a novelty. It'll wear off."

"Until the baby comes."

"Speaking of which, have you found out if the little bugger is a boy or a girl yet?"

"No, but Dr. Temple says that's not unusual. I have another visit tomorrow. Maybe we'll see what we're having then."

Mike had had two visits to Dr. Temple since his incident with the bounty hunter. Her attempts to determine the baby's gender with the ultrasound had been less than successful.

XXX

"Your baby is bashful, Mike. He won't turn the right way."

The two men looked at each other. "Are you sure this baby belongs to us?" Mulder said with a smile.

XXX

Trista, one of the file clerks, yelled out, "Hey, Logan and Silvera! The Captain wants to see you."

"Captain?" said Mike.

"Didn't you hear? Our new commander starts today."

"I'm really sorry I missed Stobar's retirement party." Mike had still been on bedrest and couldn't attend. "Who did the department finally send us?"

"You'll see," said Frankie mysteriously. "It's an old friend of yours."

Mike was mentally running down the list of possible candidates when they entered the office. Sitting at the desk was the last person he ever expected to see.

" Lieutenant Van Buren?"

"That's Captain Van Buren to you, Detective. Have a seat."

Totally flabbergasted, Mike sat and said the first thing that popped into his head. "Who did you piss off?"

"Not everyone thinks of Staten Island as Siberia, Logan. I get my promotion, and the Manhattan brass don't have to deal with me anymore. Win-win. Aren't you going to congratulate me?"

"Right, yeah, sorry." He held out his hand. "Congratulations, Lieu...Captain."

She took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Thank you. And I understand you deserve some congratulations as well. When are you due?"

"September 16th, though I'm told that few babies are actually born on their due date."

"Tell me about it," said Frankie. "My first was two weeks late, and my second a week early."

"God," groaned Mike.

"It's not that bad," Van Buren consoled him. "Although this might be."

Mike heard a commotion behind him. He turned to see the members of his squad filing in bearing packages wrapped in pink and blue.

"I convinced the squad that in lieu of a welcome party for me, they should give you a baby shower."

"I seconded," said Frankie.

"And I thirded!" said Trista. Mike blinked at her beaming face. When he'd started at the Staten Island precinct, he'd asked Trista out numerous times and had been unceremoniously rejected every time. Now they were best buddies? Belatedly, he remembered the numerous, "Mike, how are feeling? How is the baby? What theme are you planning for the nursery?" inquires he'd been getting from Trista and the other female civilian helpers. Frankie was still the only female detective on the squad, much to her chagrin.

//Maybe I should tell her she's mistaken about that. It would make her day. Great. I always wanted to be one of the girls,// Mike thought dismally. He received this revelation the day he returned to start desk duty. He'd been called down to Personnel to charge his ID.

XXX

"What's wrong with my ID?" Mike had demanded.

"Well, you're DS and you're pregnant, right?"

"So?"

"So, we have to change the gender on your records."

It took a second for the penny to drop.

"Wait a minute! Are you trying to tell me, according to the law, I'm a WOMAN!"

"Hey, don't yell at me, I didn't make the law! I just process the forms.You got a problem, write your congressman!"

Mike was still seething over the discovery that evening. He'd yelled at Mulder for an hour, and Mulder had said nothing until he'd run out of steam.

"So?" Mulder had said after that. "Do you feel like a woman?"

"No!"

"Do you feel like you 'should' be a woman? You know, like you should have a sex change operation or something?"

"Fuck, no!"

"Then the only thing that's changed is that we don't have to go to Vermont to get married."

Mike sat down on the bed. "What?"

Mulder sat beside him, an eager, earnest, and fearful look on his face. "I know this relationship has been going ass backwards, but let me at least get the last part right. It should have been love, marriage, house, baby." Mulder gently touched Mike's slightly curved abdomen. "We have the baby. We're getting the house. I love you, Mike Logan. Would you marry me?"

Mulder started shaking his head at Mike's response. "Mike, is this going to be the pattern of our relationship? I say something profound, and you laugh?"

"It's not that!" Mike tried to explain. "When I was about sixteen, my Dad told me that if I kept tomcatting around, someday I'd 'have' to get married! Somehow, I don't think this is what he had in mind!" In spite of his mirth, Mike noticed Mulder's crestfallen expression. "I love you, too, Fox. Yes, I'll marry you."

XXX

The women had given the brightly wrapped gifts, while the men had pooled their resources and given Mike a gift certificate. It was obvious by the way they hung back and the glares the Captain was giving them that Van Buren had told them to participate or else. Mike mentally blessed her. With his superior on his side, his life would be much easier.

Mike could make neither head nor tail of the Captain's gift until Van Buren explained, "It's a breast pump."

Mike amazed himself with his discovery that he could still blush. "I hope you kept the receipt."

"You're not going to breastfeed?"

"Not all DS can, and I don't intend to try! It's bad enough I have to push this little rugrat out my ass. I'm keeping my tits to myself."

"Oh, Mike," Trista protested, "didn't the doctor tell you how important that first feeding of colostrum is?"

"Yeah, she did, and I told her exactly where she could stick her colostrum."

The guys, a little grossed out by the talk of breastfeeding, started guffawing at Mike's last statement. The women gave them a hard stare, and it died quickly.

Van Buren patted Mike kindly on the shoulder. "You've got plenty of time to decide."

Mike gritted his teeth.

When Mulder came to pick him up, he whooped at the sight of the packages. "Hot damn, loot!"

Mike said nothing. He followed as Mulder and Frankie carried the gifts to the car. Or rather where the car should have been.

"What the hell is that?"

"Do you like it? I traded my old car in and picked it up this morning."

"I thought you drove to Virginia this morning to finish packing up your apartment?"

"That took about twenty minutes. And buying this baby took five. The internet is a wonderful thing!"

Mike shook his head as he regarded his fiance's latest purchase. "A minivan. You bought a minivan."

"According to Scully, a minivan is essential. You need the space just to pack up the kid's stuff. Great timing, huh?"

Mike said nothing as Mulder and Silvera loaded the gifts into the back of the vehicle. Mulder and Silvera gave each other worried looks. "What's eating him?" he whispered to Frankie."

"I don't know. Talk to him."

Mulder nodded and went to join Mike, who had already seated himself in the van.

"A Ford Windstar," said Mike. "I would have figured you for a Nissan of some kind."

"Well, they do have a good safety record, but I thought you'd appreciate it if a bought American," he replied, gently tapping the American flag Mike habitually wore on his lapel. "You wore that long before 9/11. I know it means a lot to you."

"It does. Thanks."

"Okay, what's wrong? A quiet Mike Logan is not a good thing. I have at least learned that much about you."

"You know me better than most people, Fox." At his beseeching look, Mike smiled. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just in a weird mood."

"About?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Would you?"

"I was right, you do know me. Alright, like I said, nothing is wrong. It's just sometimes, it's too much at once. I fall in love with you. I get pregnant. We move in together. We're getting married. Then an alien tries to snuff me and steal my unborn child. It gets a little overwhelming."

Mulder sighed. "Mike, I told you, my sources say that shouldn't happen again."

"The Lone Gunmen, right?" Mulder nodded, still finding it strange to be able to talk someone about his helpful dead. "Did they tell you why he wanted the baby?"

"Yes, they helped me hack into some encrypted sites this morning. Can we talk about that later? There's something else I wanted to discuss. Though in your present mood, I'm not sure the timing is right."

"Oh God, something weird?"

"No, something pretty normal, actually. It concerns our wedding." Mike perked up at that.

"I am always ready to hear about our wedding, but I thought there was something you wanted to take care of before we shared the news."

"There was, and I did."

Mulder reached into his suit pocket and brought out a small box. "This is the real reason I wanted to go back to Virginia this morning. I got this out of my safety deposit box." He opened the box, and he took out a ring. It was heavy gold, set with a large, square-cut emerald. Etched into the gold on either side of the emerald was a stylized W. Too stunned to speak, Mike just allowed him to place the ring on the little finger of his left hand. Mulder smiled in delight. "I knew it would fit. You have large hands just like his."

"His?"

"My grandfather. My mother's father. He was the only Worthington who ever believed in me. Grandfather never had any sons, so when he died he left me his ring."

Mike thought about refusing it, but the look on Mulder's face killed the impulse in its tracks. Instead, he smiled and said,"I'm honored. Is this my engagement ring?" Mulder blushed. //Well, at least I'm not the only one!// "It is, isn't it?" On an impulse, Mike took off his own ring and put it on Mulder's finger. Unfortunately, it slipped off immediately.

Mulder snatched it up and put it in the jewelry box formerly occupied by the emerald ring. "I'll take it to a jeweler tomorrow and have it resized."

"Fox, we could pick out another ring," Mike said, suddenly embarrassed. "You know, something that matches what you gave me."

"I didn't give you my grandfather's ring because it's valuable. I gave it to you because it means something to me. This ring must mean something to you. I've never seen you take it off. So there's nothing you could give me that would make me happier."

Mike cleared his throat. "It was my Dad's. He gave it to me when I made detective." Unable to say anymore, Mike leaned forward and kissed Mulder on the lips. Mulder responded hungrily.

"Ever done it in a minivan?" asked Mulder, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Mike laughed. "You ass, we're parked in front of a police station!"

"Aw, where's your sense of adventure?" Mulder pulled Mike into an embrace and kissed him soundly. Before they knew it, they were panting, hands were seeking paths through layers of clothing, skin was being stroked.

Since Mike's attack, Mulder had refused to allow Mike to return to his apartment, and they had taken the adjoining room to Scully's at her hotel. Walter Skinner had decided to retire from the Bureau and be a stay at home dad for William. So, Scully, Walter and William were in the next room, and the connecting door was 'not' sound proof. The men were always in either earshot or in view of somebody since their reconciliation and the men were getting extremely frustrated. Just as they were about to take the action to the back, the passenger door opened.

"Hey, glad you're still here. You forgot...Oh, my God!" said Frankie when she saw what they were doing. "I 'so' did not need to see that."

Reluctantly, Mike and Mulder readjusted their clothing and 'put away' what needed to be put away. They glared at Frankie.

"Yeah, well, you forgot this." She handed Mike an umbrella stroller decorated in a bright Winnie-the-Pooh motif. "I'll let you guys...Wait just a minute!" she exclaimed when her eyes caught sight of the glint on Mike's finger. "Yowza, what a rock! You're engaged, aren't you! Right on, partner."

"I take it you approve?" Mike asked with a half smile.

"Hell, yeah. I checked Mulder out. His family is loaded, so if the marriage doesn't work out, you'll make out like a bandit in the divorce settlement."

Mike was still laughing when Mulder pulled away from the curb. "Okay, that's it! We are moving into our house tonight!"

Mike stopped laughing abruptly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you too tired for a little quick shopping?"

4848 Florin Drive
New Residence of
Fox Mulder and Mike Logan

"Yum," said Mike. He found that he liked Hawaiian Barbecued Chicken Pizza. Especially when he could lick the sauce off Mulder's lips.

"Ditto, yum," said Mulder, returning the favor. "More wine, sir?"

"Please." Carbonated catawba grape juice actually tasted pretty good with pizza, and Mike could swear he was getting a buzz. Maybe it was the company. He drank the juice from the plastic wine glass, and at the same time drank in the sight of his soon to be...? "Fox, what will we be?" Mulder gave him a questioning look. "After we're married, I guess you'll be my husband, but what will I be? I am not going to be a wife. No way."

"We'll both be husbands, my love. Is that still bothering you? I asked a lawyer for some details."

"Oh, and what did he say?"

"It's a little talked about codicil in the the law 'to protect and lend legitimacy to the unfortunate offspring in these unions.' Not my words, by the way."

"So what happens to some guy who's bisexual, has kids with his wife, gets a divorce, and then gets knocked up by his male lover? Huh?"

"I did ask a similar question. The upshot is that every judge in the US prays he or she won't be the one that has to rule on that idiot law. So far, it hasn't come up."

"You'd think it would be easier to make same-gender marriage legal. Noooo, they have to make a guy into a de facto woman. That makes sense," he groused.

Mulder took Mike's empty glass from his hand. He lowered his lover to his back and spooned up behind him on the floor. Mulder had purchased two sleeping bags and zipped them together. He stored their hastily purchased toiletries in the master bathroom. They lay in the master bedroom, on the floor, surrounded by the remains of takeout pizza and a battery lamp. The water and power were off. The phone was disconnected. And Mulder had never been happier.

He stroked Mike's face and was relieved when he felt the tension ebb. "I think that for just a little while, we should concentrate on us. Tonight, let me make you feel good. Okay?"

"Okay," Mike agreed in a lazy voice, "but remember, you can't make me feel 'too' good."

"Oh, I remember." When Mulder had suggested sex upon Mike's discharge from the hospital, Mike had shown him one of the no-no's on his list from Dr. Temple. No anal sex after the twentieth week. And since that had 'been' the twentieth week, well, Mike had gotten a good laugh out of his swearing. Mulder was beginning to feel like Mike's comic relief. Even Scully didn't laugh at him that much. //Maybe it's a good thing.// Mulder thought, surprised at himself. //Scully always took me seriously, even when she thought I was full of shit. Maybe, that's why our passion
never kindled. There was no humor. No joy in the little things.//

They had already kicked off their shoes. Mulder guided Mike into the folds of the doubled sleeping bag. "Is this warm enough? Is the floor too hard on your back?"

"I'm good." Mike felt full and warm and very relaxed. He held out his arms. "Come on, big boy."

This time it was Mulder's turn to laugh. He took off his clothes, and then he helped Mike out of his. He inhaled deeply, and then let the breath out slowly.

"Fox?"

"Just relaxing." he assured Mike. "Getting in the mood." He reflected that one day he'd have to make love to Mike by a fire. He could imagine how sexy this man could be with the light of the flames glistening in his dark hair and in his beautiful eyes. Hell, he looked pretty damn good by the light of a battery lamp.

He started with a kiss. A deep penetrating kiss. Mulder lightly caressed the sides of his face and his throat, kissing him all the while. He smiled when Mike moaned softly into his mouth. God, Mike had such a wide, sensuous mouth.

He ran his hands down Mike's body. Shoulders, arms, chest and abs. He started to tweak his nibbles.

"Christ!" swore Mike, and knocked his hands away. "Don't do that!" At Mulder's shocked expression, Mike apologized, "I"m sorry. I should have told you. I can't stand having them pinched. It hurts too much."

"I should have realized, the baby..."

"The baby doesn't have anything to do with it!" he retorted, annoyed. "I never could stand it. Too sensitive."

"Okay." Mulder pondered a moment. Then he bend down and carefully licked one nipple with just the tip of his tongue.

Mike gasped, bucked upward and exclaimed, "Oh yeah, you can do that again!"

Mulder spent several minutes licking and gently sucking on the sensitive nubs. Soon, Mike was flushed, aroused, and very hard. Amazingly enough, Mulder was just as aroused watching Mike respond. //God, he's sensitive.// Mulder started turning his attention southward. He slid one hand down Mike's stiff and dripping cock. Mike inhaled explosively at the contact.

"I'm not going to last," he warned Mulder. "I've wanted you so long."

"I know." Mulder kissed him again. "It's okay. We've got all our lives to do this."

He pumped Mike's cock firmly, using his precum as lubrication. Just as Mike said, it didn't take long. One, two, three more strokes and Mike came hard on his hand.

"Fox," Mike cried as he came. It was long and hard. Mulder kept pumping until Mike was finished.

"You needed that," Mulder observed, and marvelled again at the beautiful man in his arms.

"So do you," Mike panted, indicating Mulder's still painfully hard penis. "Let me." Mulder didn't take long either. A few strokes from Mike's hand finished him as well.

"Oh crap," said Mike, looking at their semen coated bodies, "the water's turned off!"

"No problem," Mulder assured him. "I thought ahead." He ran into the bathroom and came out with a box of wipes. "Here we go."

Mike took one look at what he held in his hands and bust out laughing,

"What now?" Mulder looked at the box. "Johnson & Johnson Extra-Gentle Aloe Baby Wipes." Mulder thought about it a moment, and then he smiled. "It's not 'that' funny." But he started laughing with him anyway.

============================================

Mulder's watch told him it was ten forty-two in the evening. Mike was spooned up against his back, and they were both snug in the sleeping bags. He enjoyed the comfort and the warmth and was amazed all over at his good fortune.

Mulder had made subtle inquiries about this man he had fallen in love with. He had been shocked at some of the things he'd discovered. Mike had told him about being molested as a child, but he hadn't said a word about the battering he'd received from his mother. His parents' alcoholism. His close friend and partner murdered. //Christ, I've profiled serial killers who were less screwed up!// Yet, here he was, a brave, passionate, sensitive man. A man who loved his country and loved the law, though both often made him angry and frustrated. Life was indeed strange.

The night was warm, and Mulder had left the window slightly open. One of their neighbors had their radio tuned to a soft rock station, and Mulder listened lazily to the words.

>Another turning point
>A fork stuck in the road
>Time grabs you by the wrist
>Directs you where to go
>So make the best of this test
>And don't ask why
>It's not a question
>But a lesson learned in time
>It's something unpredictable
>But in the end is right
>I hope you had the time of your life

>So take the photographs
>And still frames in your mind
>Hang it on a shelf of
>Good health and good time
>Tattoos of memories
>And dead skin on trial
>For what it's worth
>It was worth all the while
>It's something unpredictable
>But in the end is right
>I hope you had the time of your life

>It's something unpredictable
>But in the end is right
>I hope you had the time of your life

"It's something unpredictable, huh? You've got that right," he said aloud. "No way I would have predicted this." Mulder picked up the hand Mike had thrown over his shoulder, kissed it, and went to sleep.

End Part One

Time of Your Life (Good Riddance) by Green Day