A Brave New World
Humility (4 of 4)

Los Cabos, Mexico
January 24, 2008

Scully walked out onto the veranda and looked at 
the ocean's surf crashing not more than 50 yards 
away.  The beach was still in twilight, but if she 
stepped onto the sand and looked behind her she 
would see the first signs of dawn on the purple 
horizon.  The air was still save for the incessant 
thunder of the waves.  It was so peaceful.  
Gathering her long cover-up around her legs, she 
curled up on one of the lounge chairs and leaned 
back.  It was so nice, so relaxing.  She'd have to 
figure out a way to wipe the smug look off Mulder's 
face when she finally admitted this was exactly 
what she needed.

She smiled, glancing over her shoulder through the 
French doors to the bedroom beyond where her 
lover was still sprawled across the bed.  The trip 
had been long, a flight delay in Atlanta caused by a 
snow storm had threatened their vacation.  But 
eventually the storm moved on and they landed only 
several hours late.  Instead of arriving in the light of 
afternoon, they were escorted to their beach cottage 
in the dead of night.  Still, the salt air and the 
crashing of the waves outside their door had led to 
romantic thoughts and activities.  She remembered 
falling asleep to Mulder's heartbeat under her ear 
and wondering how it managed to play such perfect 
counterpoint to the waves. 

She couldn't say what had awakened her, but she 
suspected it was that same longing that always drew 
her to the sea.  She'd vowed to only sit there for a 
few minutes, just long enough to soak in the 
atmosphere, recharge her spirit with the energy of 
the pounding surf before going in back in with 
Mulder.  Maybe she'd test his theory that it didn't 
matter what your physical age might be -- when on 
vacation a body was ready for anything.  Maybe 
nothing too strenuous, but she had no doubt they 
would come up doing something enjoyable.

"Hey, whatcha doin' out here?" his voice rumbled in 
her ear and she startled awake.  

"Oh, sorry," she said, stretching.  He was leaning 
over her and she snaked her arms around his neck, 
dragging him down to her mouth.  After a 
languorous kiss, he scooted her over with his hip 
and joined her in reclining on the lounge.   She 
smiled at him, watching his expression.  "I just -- "

"Heard the surf and couldn't stay away," he said, 
smiling that 'I know you so well' smile of his.  

She leaned forward and captured his lips again.  
When he deepened the kiss her mind flashed on her 
earlier thoughts.  "Want to take this back inside?" 
she asked in her smoky voice.

"Why bother?  We're alone here.  It's a private 
beach.  Let's give Google Earth a show," he purred 
as he found the buttons to her cover-up that was 
serving as both robe and impediment to his desire to 
get them skin-to-skin.

"You certainly woke up on the frisky side," she 
teased as she helped him ease the soft cotton off her 
shoulders.

"No.  More.  Talk."  He punctuated his words with 
kisses.

They did much more than talk and when she awoke 
again, pleasantly warm, she discovered the sun was 
now high in the sky, casting short shadows among 
the palms on their beach.  She also discovered she 
was starving.

"Hey, didn't you tell me on the plane that you'd be 
my slave while we're here?" she asked, waking him 
from his doze.  "Then go get my breakfast."

"I said 'sex slave'," he muttered with his eyes still 
closed.  "Food is not my expertise, unless you 
happen to see a fast food restaurant out in all that 
sand."  He promptly rolled over so that she was 
under him, effectively pinned to the lounge.  

"Guess I'll have to eat what's handy," she replied 
and took a nip at his shoulder, just inches from her 
nose.

"OK, OK, none of that.  I suppose this means we 
have to get dressed," he sighed.

"Unless you happened to book us into a nudist 
colony," she quipped as he slowly moved off her, 
tickling her side till she squeaked.  She grabbed for 
him, but he was already halfway to the bedroom.

She found her cover-up and pulled it on.  When she 
entered their cottage, she found her beloved in the 
tiny efficiency kitchen, still glorious naked, shining 
her a bright morning moon as he leaned into the 
refrigerator.  "Hey, Scully, they stocked the place!  
There's milk, fresh fruit -- oh, wow, pineapple," he 
exclaimed happily, pulling bags and bottles off the 
shelves and placing them on the counter next to 
him.

She smiled and rolled her eyes.  "Don't get frostbite 
in there," she warned with a grin.  She opened one 
of the cabinets closest to her and found assorted 
small cereal packages and all the makings for 
coffee.  "Here, let me handle this, you go get 
something on.  You're making me nervous," she 
told him.

He gave her a feral smile and stalked over to press 
her against the counter.  "Do I scare you, little girl?" 
he growled playfully.

"No, but you play with that thing too close to a fire 
and it might get burned," she purred back and gave 
his ass a squeeze.  He yelped for effect.

"You're probably right," he agreed, kissing her 
lightly on the nose. 

Scully busied herself with coffee and a light 
breakfast of toast and fruit.  Mulder returned 
wearing a pair of bright red swim trunks and his 
running shoes.  He grabbed a spear of pineapple and 
a sip from her cup of coffee before kissing her on 
the side of her mouth.  "I'm going for a quick run."

"Don't you want breakfast?" she asked.

"I'll get some when I come back.  I won't be long.  
Check out what we want to do today."  

She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow.

"After that," he said, wiggling his brows back at 
her.  

"I thought we might go into town, look around," she 
said, sipping from her cup.

"Translation:  shoe shopping," he replied with a 
pain look.  "OK, but I get to pick the night's 
activities."

She thought about that for a moment, considering 
everything Mulder might think to do.  She raised 
her chin at his challenging look.  "Deal," she told 
him. 

The resort arranged for a rental car to arrive at their 
door just before noon.  Mulder had finally 
acquiesced to wearing a short sleeved shirt over his 
swim trunks and had sandals on his feet -- which he 
informed her was as far toward civilization as he 
intended to get during their stay.  Scully had opted 
for a pair of shorts, a tee shirt and sandals.  
Sunglasses were standard apparel this close to the 
ocean.

The village was straight out of a tourist brochure.  A 
small grocery provided all the ingredients for a few 
days worth of dining, including a nice wine to go 
with dinner.  A few shops down the main street 
spoke to the relative wealth of the tourists that 
frequented the village.  A nice women's clothing 
store, an equally nice men's apparel store, two shoe 
shops and a jeweler were sprinkled in among the 
inevitable souvenir and beach shops.  Scully talked 
Mulder out of the surf  board, but couldn't dissuade 
him from buying her a brightly colored beach 
umbrella.

At the end of the shopping district stood a church, 
shining salmon adobe in the hot sun.  Scully drew in 
a breath and turned to Mulder.  "Can we go in -- just 
for a moment?" she asked.

He nodded and followed her into the dark church, 
chewing on his lip.  It wasn't that he was totally 
uncomfortable in a church -- he just knew what was 
on her mind and it upset him that he couldn't shield 
her from the grief he'd hoped to leave in Virginia.

She walked over to a side altar, one with a statue of 
the Virgin Mary, if he wasn't mistaken.  She knelt 
down on the padded kneeler and after tucking a few 
coins in the box provided, she picked up a box of 
matches and reverently lit two votive candles before 
bowing her head in prayer.

Feeling decidedly like an outsider and not wanting 
to intrude on her prayers, Mulder roamed the 
interior of the small church.  It was rather pretty, 
and obviously centuries old judging from the 
workmanship of the pews and the altar.  The 
carvings on the wall depicted Christ's last hours 
before the crucifixion and he was admiring the 
intricacies of the artistry when a hand landed on his 
shoulder.  He spun around and was met by an older 
man wearing the brown robes Mulder usually 
associated with monks.

"Very pretty, aren't they," the man said in perfect 
unaccented English.  "Oh, I hope I didn't startle 
you," he added.

"No, um not really.  Yes, they're beautiful."  Mulder 
looked over to where Scully was still kneeling, head 
bowed, deep in benediction.  "We're just . . . we just 
stopped in . . . "

"Yes, we get many visitors from the resort.  It's 
always nice when people don't take a vacation from 
God just because they're on vacation," the priest 
said with a mild chuckle.  "I'm Father Farrer, this is 
my parish.  I have a Mass schedule for next Sunday, 
if you're interested."

The idea that had been playing tag along his mind 
for the past week finally formed and Mulder smiled 
at the priest.  "Actually, Father, I have a question 
about something, if you have the time."

Mary's Altar

The ancient words rolled off her tongue in a soft 
whisper.  "Remember, oh most Gracious Virgin 
Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled 
to Thy protection, implored Thy help or sought Thy 
intercession was left unaided.  Inspired by this 
confidence I fly unto Thee, O Virgin of Virgins, my 
mother; to Thee do I come, before Thee I kneel, 
sinful and sorrowful.  Despise not my petitions but 
in your mercy hear and answer me." 

It wasn't a new prayer, being one of the first her 
mother had taught her as a child.  It wasn't even a 
forgotten prayer, for she'd whispered the words 
every day since she placed her son in the arms of 
the social worker from the adoption agency.  She'd 
prayed it over and over again, sometimes several 
times a day when Mulder had gone missing and 
then when he was returned seemingly dead.  What 
she had learned over time was that the answers 
given weren't always what she wanted.  Moreover, 
she had finally learned to live with the answers, 
regardless of her desires on the matter.  Miracles did 
happen, she was sure of that.  Sometimes they just 
took time.

"Ask Your Son to bless my sweet William and his 
new family," she added.  She smiled softly, "and 
bless Fox, but don't let him know I asked."   Her 
heart clenched a little and she continued.  "Take 
Christian into your arms as he comes to you, and 
please help his mother and father understand.  Help 
me to understand."  She concluded the prayer and 
wiped hastily at her eyes, clearing them of the 
unshed tears.

She rose and looked around the church.  Mulder 
apparently had gone outside.  She knew he wouldn't 
be far, but she also knew he wasn't all that 
comfortable with her religion.  She cast one more 
look at the small church, letting the peace flow over 
her before she headed for the overly bright sunshine 
of the tropical morning.

He wasn't on the street and she looked around at the 
little shops, wondering where he had wandered.   
Spying one with a familiar sign painted in a 
window, she marveled at the prime example of a 
'global economy'.  Mulder had once told her there 
was a Starbucks on the moon.  She smiled and 
walked over to the store, inhaling the rich smells as 
she pulled open the door.

She walked up to the counter and ordered her usual, 
pleasantly surprised to find the young barista 
understood her mangled attempt at Spanish.  Maybe 
'soy latte double shot' didn't really need translation.  
She paid for her purchase and was just about to sit 
down when Mulder came through the door.  

"There you are," he exclaimed with a smile that 
seemed overly excited, given that they had only 
been separated for a few minutes.  "I thought I'd lost 
you."

"The town is three blocks long, Mulder.  I think 
your investigative skills could handle that, even if 
they are a little rusty," she teased, but accepted his 
hello kiss gratefully.  He placed his order and came 
over to the table by the window where she was 
seated.

"Nice little town," she commented.

"Yeah," he agreed absently.  He took her hands in 
his and stroked her knuckles, lost in thought.  He 
didn't even look up when the barista called out their 
order.

"Earth to Mulder," she joked but frowned slightly 
when he looked up, startled.  "Hey, you OK?"

"Great.  Never better," he said quickly.  "Oh, that's 
us," he added for no one's real benefit and jumped 
up to retrieve their coffees.  

"OK, Mulder, what are you hiding?" she murmured 
under her breath.

He came back to the table and after a quick check of 
the side, handed her the cup.  She watched him 
suspiciously as he sat down and gingerly sipped his 
coffee.  

They were quiet for a few minutes, Scully regarding 
him closely to determine what was on Mulder's 
mind.  She finally decided it was the stop at the 
church, religion had often been a sore spot between 
them.  But when he smiled at her and tilted his head 
in that totally disarming manner of his, she scolded 
herself.  Maybe he was just at loose ends having the 
freedom to go and do whatever he pleased.

"Hey, I have a suggestion for how we can spend this 
evening," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Mulder -- we don't want to wear out the bed on our 
first day here," she teased.

"I like the way you think, Doc -- but not quite what 
I was thinking.  I saw a boat rental place just down 
the street."

"Boat rental?"   Scully couldn't hide her skepticism.  
"How do you say 'Dramamine' in Spanish, 
Mulder?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation.  "Not fair, 
Scully.  I grew up on an island -- and before you go 
dragging up ancient history, that long ago trip to the 
North Atlantic was in stormy seas.  C'mon -- I 
found out there's a little island less than a mile out.  
There are picnic shelters over there.  We can get the 
makings of a picnic supper and row across to the 
island."

"Row?" she repeated, her left eyebrow immediately 
joining her right in open doubt.

"Yes, row.  I do know how to row a boat," he said, 
his tone showing his wounded pride.

"Mulder, out in a row boat on open water -- I'll be a 
lobster before we make it half a mile."

"Ah, but that's why I thought we'd make it a 'dinner' 
picnic.  The sun will be lower and not as strong.  
Wear your suit and that cover up you had on this 
morning -- you'll be fine."

"You're set on this," she noted critically.

"It'll be fun, I promise," he prodded.

She sighed but couldn't keep the smile from her 
face.  "This is your escapade, Mulder.  I'm just the 
deck ornament -- all rowing is your department."

"I plan to show you my manly prowess on the open 
water, Scully," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She laughed in delight.  "OK, I'm sold."

Baja Coast
Mexico
4:30 pm

Scully looked up at the clear, cloudless sky with a 
hand cupped to her eyes.  It was perfect, too 
wonderful for words.  Dropping her gaze, she 
couldn't keep the smiled from her face.  Mulder was 
stroking the oars for all he was worth, his nearly 50 
year old body looking decades younger, his 
expression spoke of a calm contentment that she 
couldn't remember seeing in years -- if she'd ever 
witnessed it in their time together. She 
contemplated that as she lounged against the stern, 
the ocean breeze riffling her hair, the hat she'd 
brought discarded under her seat, next to their 
picnic basket and beach blanket.  

"Penny for your thoughts," he called over to her. 

"I'm just thinking -- that you look really good over 
there.  All manly manish," she quipped.

"Let's hope you think the smell of Icy Hot is sexy.  I 
think I'm gonna be using a few jars when we get 
back to the cottage," he responded with a wink.

The sound of a small helicopter passing overhead 
caused them to look up.  "They give tours of the 
coast," Mulder commented and waved to the pilot, 
who dipped in response.  Scully smiled and waved 
as well.  "Want to take a ride tomorrow?" he asked.

"No thanks.  I've had enough rides in helicopters in 
the last couple of weeks.  Maybe I'll just have you 
row me to another part of the coast," she said with a 
tilt of her head.

"If you pull out a drum and start pounding out a 
rhythm, you might have a mutiny on your hands," 
he informed her.

She laughed at him and tilted her head back.  The 
sun was low on the horizon out over the open 
ocean.  She could see the island they were rowing 
toward grow slight larger with each stroke of the 
oars in the water.  "So, you realize we'll be rowing 
back in total darkness," she commented.

"Who said we're coming back tonight?" he parried.

"We're spending the night?  Mulder -- "  She 
stopped, all objections swept from her mind as her 
baser instincts caught on to his plan.  They had a 
blanket, it was the tropics and far from cold at night.  
They had enough food for dinner and some left over 
for breakfast.  And they had nothing else required of 
them and nowhere else they had to be.  "You are a 
genius," she sighed.

He grinned broadly and nodded once, accepting her 
praise.  "I thought you'd see it my way.  We have to 
have the boat back by 3 tomorrow.  Until then, we 
get our own private island."

"What if there are pirates on the island," she teased 
with mock concern.

"I'll battle them off with my trusty oar," he assured 
her, which was answered by a less than ladylike 
snort.

"Good thing I still remember a little hand to hand 
combat training," she muttered, knowing full well 
he could hear her.

"That's exactly what I was counting on," he shot 
back with sly smile.

Island off the Mexican Baja Coast
6:45 pm

Mulder rolled over onto his back, licking the last of 
the crumbs of his dinner from his fingers.  "You 
make a mean picnic, Doc," he said with a sigh.

"Oh, yes.  It took me all of five minutes, packing it 
in the basket," she deadpanned.  "How's the back?"

"Back's fine.  Hands, on the other hand -- "  He held 
out his hands, palms facing her, the raw blisters 
starkly evident.

She took his hands and turned them up, leaning over 
to give each a kiss.  "So, I guess you should have 
used the gloves, huh?"

"Just had to bring that up, didn't ya?" he quipped.

"Well, you did walk right into it," she admitted 
slyly.  She threw her leg over his torso, straddling 
him and smiled down at him, her expression 
growing sultry.  "Hey there, sailor.  New in town?"

He burst out laughing, pulling her down to rest on 
his chest.  "Yeah.  As a matter of fact, I'm lookin' 
for a good time.  Interested?"  He dragged her up so 
her mouth was within his reach and kissed her 
slowly, taking his time, sliding his tongue over her 
tongue and tickling the roof of her mouth.  Not to be 
outdone, she quickly joined in the festivities.

The night breeze was cooling the sweat from their 
bodies as they lay on the blanket, her head resting 
on his shoulder.  He was feeling languid, liquid, and 
the stars blinking above their heads seemed to be 
shining just for them.  Maybe it was finally the right 
time.

"Scully, I have a question to ask you and I need an 
honest opinion," he said.

"I really liked the speedos, Mulder, but the red 
trunks are a turn on, too," she quipped.

"That wasn't exactly the question.  Well, it was, but 
not the first question," he replied dryly.

"OK, shoot," she said.  "What is the question that 
needs an honest opinion -- like I don't give you 
those on a daily basis."  She was smiling up at him 
and he could just see her in the light of the lantern 
they'd found on the boat.

He drew in a big breath and forged ahead.  "Why 
isn't it a good idea that we get married?"

She blinked but said nothing.

"I mean, Scully, if you're holding out for another 
guy -- hell, I understand, but if we're here, and we're 
not going anywhere -- "

"You want to marry me, Mulder?  Is that what 
you're proposing?" she asked quietly.

He snorted, but it was more painful than humorous.  
"Scully.  I wanted to marry you somewhere around 
the time we came back from Wilkesland.  I think if I 
were completely honest with myself, maybe even 
before then.  But I understand -- "

"Mulder, there were reasons back then.  Not the 
least was the fact that we worked together.  And 
then there was Diana -- "

"No, we aren't going there," he broke in.  "You 
never understood that Diana was more friend than . 
. . whatever.  She wasn't in any way, shape or form -
- "  He stopped talking when she put her fingers to 
his lips.

"I thought you were proposing," she teased, the 
tenderness in her voice taking the edge off the jibe.

"I am," he said around her fingers.  "If you're 
considering," he added, kissing the tips of those 
fingers before he took them in his hand and placed 
them over his heart.

She was quiet for a long time and under her hand 
she could feel his heart rate speed up.  He wasn't 
joking, he was being completely serious this time.  
Looking up and seeing the blanket of stars so close 
they could reach out and touch them -- she 
understood this was what he'd been planning all 
day.  She could not conceive of a more romantic 
place for a proposal.

She thought long and hard for a few seconds.  
Images flashed before her mind -- her devastation 
upon finding his broken and cold body in a field.  
Lowering his casket into the frozen earth.  The 
overwhelming sense of joy and completeness when 
he opened his eyes at the hospital and she laid her 
head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat in time to 
hers.  The six years of running, but at the same time, 
building a life together on a more solid foundation 
than what they'd previously shared because it was 
just the two of them -- no one else mattered.  She 
realized they'd been 'married' an awfully long time.  
Maybe it was time to let the rest of their new world 
in on the secret.

"Maybe," she said, clearing the tears from her 
throat.  "Maybe it's time we did get married."  She 
looked at his face and saw his eyes misting up.  
"But there better be jewelry involved," she warned 
him, half teasing.

"Oh, there is, there is!" he assured her.  "Gimme a 
minute."  He broke free from their embrace and 
rolled over to his knees to dig through the small 
backpack where he'd carried the beach blanket.  He 
turned around and held out a tiny velvet box.  "Um, 
would you mind sitting up?"

She laughed at the befuddled look on his face.  
"Sure," she consented and pushed up to a sitting 
position on the blanket.  He crawled over to her and 
then knelt down so that they were almost level.  It 
took him a moment to get the ring box open, his 
hands were shaking so badly.  She almost took pity 
on him and opened the box herself, but she realized 
it was something he had to do.  Finally, pulling the 
ring out of the velvet, he took her hand and looked 
into her eyes.

"Final answer time, Scully.  Will you marry me?"

Tears were streaming down her face and she had to 
wipe them away before she could look into his eyes.  
"Yes, Fox Mulder, I will marry you," she answered.

Now the tears were glistening in his eyes as he slid 
the ring on her finger.  It was a perfect fit.  The 
band held a one-carat diamond in a simple gold 
setting.  The stone caught the light from the lantern 
and glittered as she moved her hand.  She stared at 
it, mesmerized and then up into his face.  His eyes 
were a thousand times more mesmerizing than the 
diamond.

"I love you so much, Scully.  I can't imagine 
spending the rest of my life without you in it," he 
choked out as he pulled her to his chest and held her 
tightly.  She managed to wiggle around in his 
embrace until she could tilt her head and kiss him.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life with 
anyone else," she told him.

From that one kiss, they quickly toppled to the 
blanket, arms and legs entwined.   Their lovemaking 
was gentle and tender and both were fighting sleep 
while their bodies cooled in the soft breeze.  Mulder 
wiggled around a bit and soon they were covered by 
half the beach blanket.  Scully snuggled closer into 
his shoulder.

"So, when?" she asked, around a yawn.

"The wedding?  I was thinking about that," Mulder 
whispered into her hair.  "If we wait till we get 
home -- "

"My mom will turn it into Camelot, complete with 
horse drawn carriage," Scully sighed.  "I would 
really rather avoid that, to be perfectly honest."

"I asked Father Farrer . . . "  At her perplexed look, 
he explained.  "The priest at the church today.  He 
said we could get married here, if you want."

"You talked to the priest about us getting married?  
Before you even asked me?  Awful sure of yourself, 
weren't you?" she teased, poking him in the rib.

"Let's just say I wanted to investigate some extreme 
possibilities," he shot back.  "He said it would be 
the civil ceremony that would be recognized in the 
US, but he gave me the details of what we need to 
do and said he'd be happy to perform the religious 
ceremony, if you wanted one.  Anyway, if we come 
back already married, it definitely would mean your 
mother would be pissed at us for a while -- "

"But as we've learned after years of government 
service, Mulder, it's always easier to ask forgiveness 
than wait for permission."  She leaned up and kissed 
him, then snuggled back against his shoulder.  "I 
like the idea.  The little church is beautiful."

"Well, then, how about tomorrow?" he asked, his 
eyes crinkling with amusement.

"I don't know -- I'll have to see if I'm free," she 
answered in kind and wasn't at all surprised by the 
attack of his fingers on her ribs.  "Oh, I just checked 
my schedule," she puffed through bouts of giggles.  
"Tomorrow is good for me."

"Great," he said, pulling her head down to rest on 
his shoulder again.  "Now, go to sleep.  I have a big 
day ahead of me tomorrow."

"You have a big day?" she challenged.

"Yeah, I have to row us back, too, you know."

She snickered.  "Ah, don't get too worn out.  I 
expect a wedding night."

"So do I," he replied and kissed her.  "Now, I repeat 
-- sleep."

She rolled her eyes, but snuggled closer.  "Love 
you," she whispered as she felt herself drift off.

"Love you, too," he answered just before his 
breathing evened out and they were both fast asleep.

Dulles Airport
6 days later

"You ready?" Mulder asked as he pulled the last 
bag out of the overhead compartment.  

"For anything," Scully assured him, but deep inside, 
her stomach was a convention of angry butterflies.  

Going home was going to be problematic, but in 
their rush to leave and find their tropical retreat, 
many plans had been made in haste.  They'd 
decided to turn in the rental from Mulder's accident 
when they'd arrived at the airport for their 
impromptu vacation.  With one quick phone call, 
Scully had made arrangements with her mother for 
a ride upon their return.  What hadn't been 
considered was how her mother would react to the 
news that the partners were now happily married -- 
all in one week's time.

They had come back from the island, fresh for their 
new adventure.  It had taken three days and a trip to 
the American Consulate up the peninsula to secure 
the proper documentation to marry on foreign soil.  
Skinner's secretary Kim Cook, who was now the 
administrative assistant to the Director, had been 
invaluable -- and promised to keep her involvement 
completely top secret until they revealed the news 
themselves.  Father Farrer had performed a simple 
wedding at the church with two of the ladies of the 
parish stepping in to act as witnesses for both the 
civil and religious ceremonies.  After all the running 
around, they spent the remaining two days of their 
now de facto honeymoon lying in the lounge at the 
beach house, alternately making love and sleeping 
as the mood fit.

Never one to dream about her wedding, Scully had 
to admit -- it had been everything she'd ever 
wanted, but nothing that she'd ever expected.  By 
the time they finished at the village civic center, the 
sun had been setting.  Father Farrer had suggested 
they have a candlelight wedding and it had been 
more romantic than anything she could have 
imagined.  They returned to the cottage and dined 
on seafood and champagne and then consummated 
their marriage out on the lounge under a full moon 
and a sky full of stars.  Even after all the years, she 
felt like a newlywed and she loved it.  Maybe there 
was something to be said for waiting a while, 
however 13 years did seem a little excessive in the 
'get to know each other' department.  Still, she 
couldn't be happier with the result.

A passenger behind her cleared his throat and 
Scully realized she'd been standing in the aisle, 
daydreaming.  She gave him an apologetic smile 
and hurried after her -- husband?  She almost 
giggled at the thought.  Mulder was her everything, 
but putting a name to it had always been an exercise 
in futility.  Partner had been suitable for so long, but 
it really had lost much of its appeal when he'd run 
off to chase Russian mad scientists on his own.  
Husband was just such an alien concept when 
applied to her life mate.  It would take some getting 
used to and with a start she realized he was 
probably having the same trouble thinking of her as 
his 'wife'.

As they made it off the jetway, Mulder waited for 
her to catch up.  Walking side by side through the 
rush of passengers felt so normal, she absently 
checked the back of her slacks for her missing 
service weapon.

"Want me to tell her?  She might take it better from 
me," Mulder suggested, telling her exactly where 
his mind was.

"No, Mom is always after me for not 'fessing up', as 
she calls it.  I better do it.  But I hate to tell her in 
the baggage claim area.  Depending on how she 
takes the news, we might have to make our way 
home without her assistance."

Mulder broke into a grin and took her hand.  "I have 
a feeling she won't be that mad, once she has a 
minute or two to think it through."

Maggie was standing by the baggage carousel, 
searching the faces for her daughter.  When she 
caught sight of Dana, her smile lit up the dingy 
concourse and she waved them over.  "Fox, Dana!  
Over here," she called.  She went to hug her 
daughter and stopped, looking down at their hands.  
She sighed and crossed her arms.  "You just 
couldn't face a wedding with your brother there, 
could you?" she accused.

Mulder chewed on his lip and glanced furtively over 
to the carousel.  "Oh, look, our bags are up," he 
practically crowed and hurried over to get their 
luggage.

"Mom, I know you're angry -- " Scully started, but 
at Maggie's chuckle, she frowned.  "Mom?"

"Sweetheart, I can't blame you.  I'd like to.  I'm hurt 
that I wasn't invited.  But if I had to sit through your 
wedding with Bill fussing and fuming next to me, I 
think I might have run off to Mexico with you."  
She reached out her arms and Scully quickly fell 
into her embrace.  After a moment, Maggie looked 
up and motioned Mulder over.  "You're not getting 
out of this, Fox.  C'mere."  The group hug lasted 
just a minute, but it lifted a terrific burden off the 
newly married couples shoulders.  

"The car is in short term.  Let's go and maybe I can 
convince you to stay for dinner tonight.  Maybe 
even stay the night?" she offered.

"Do Dana and I get to sleep in the same room," 
Mulder quipped.

Maggie poked him in the ribs.  "If you're quiet," she 
admonished.  "But then, I'm a pretty heavy sleeper 
and the walls are pretty thick.  That's why we 
bought the place, you know."

"Mom!" Dana exclaimed.  

"Oh, Dana, Charlie's right.  You are way too easy," 
Maggie giggled.  "Now, tell me all about the 
wedding I missed.  Oh, and you know we're going 
to have a reception for you here.  Something simple, 
maybe a nice dinner at that Italian place you like -- 
what is the name?"

"Bella Napoli," Mulder provided.

"Yes, that's the one.  They have a party room.  We 
can coordinate it for when Bill and Tara are out this 
summer -- we can get started on the guest list -- "

Mulder caught Scully's arm and pulled her back a 
step.  "I thought we avoided all this by getting 
hitched on vacation."

"You underestimate the power of a mother denied 
her daughter's wedding to plan.  Just look at it this 
way -- all we have to do is show up, eat and open 
gifts.  I won't even make you wear a tux.  Piece of 
cake and we're out of there."

"I'm holding you to that," he pouted.

The end of Humility . . . to be continued later