ECLIPSE
Chapter Seven
+++++
Interstate 5
Between Los Angeles and Sacramento, CA
May 16, 2000
As they sat in the theater, Scully was intermittently distracted by the
whispering of a woman speaking on a telephone. She found some strange
poetic justice in a cell phone disrupting this ridiculous movie supposedly
based on their lives. After the fourth call, she turned around and glared
at the phone user, but the woman shrugged and whispered, "New baby at home."
Manners were at a premium, it appeared, but then this was Hollywood, after
all.
And they were mannered people. Both she and Mulder kept their hands to
themselves throughout the film, but after the baby comment, he reached over
and squeezed her hand. Later, in the darkened soundstage, she returns his
touch. Two months ago, such movements would have had their genesis in pain.
But they have grown so much since then, and they can touch one another out
of love and the new measure of happiness they are beginning to find
together.
"Let's get out of here," he murmured as they left the soundstage.
She nudges his arm with her shoulder. "Want to get something to eat?"
"No." He stopped and turned to face her. "I mean let's get out of town.
I'm sick of this city."
Scully replied with a tentative, drawn-out, "Okay." As they neared the car,
he asked her where she wanted to go. "Surprise me." She trusted his
instincts. After the methodical progress of the IVF and their relationship,
she needed to be surprised, to be swept off her feet for once.
The first surprise was their arrival back at the hotel, rather than the
great unknown. "Pack up all your things, Scully. I'll meet you down here
and we'll check out."
She willed herself not to look at him skeptically. After packing, she
returned to the lobby, wearing jeans and a lightweight sweater and carrying
her suitcase. Comfortable clothes, he'd instructed before they parted on
the elevator. The lobby was still busy, even at an hour past midnight;
Scully wondered if L.A. was really the city that never slept.
Now, five hours later, they are on the road to Lake Tahoe. If she had
remembered how long the drive was, she would have said no when he suggested
it, but now she is enjoying this time with Mulder. They have seldom had the
opportunity to simply drive like this, without having to focus on an
investigation. She realizes just how much she enjoys being with him. She
never wants it to end.
"Tell me about the first time you went out there, Scully," he asks as the
night sky slowly begins to segue into dawn.
"Tahoe?"
"Yeah."
She closes her eyes and tries to remember the trip itself, but all she can
recall is the scenery and the overwhelming feeling of grandeur and freedom.
"My dad was transferred back to San Diego when I was in eleventh grade. My
high school senior trip was to Tahoe."
He interrupts, "You didn't go to the beach, Scully? I thought that was the
required destination for senior trips."
"Mulder, we lived barely five miles from the beach. Anyway, we rented a
couple of coaches for the trip, which took forever." She chuckles. "Jimmy
Watson kept trying to get his hands up my shirt."
"Oh, really?" He sounds quite amused. "And you shot him down?"
"Who says I did?"
"Lucky him," he says with a laugh.
She decides to play coy for once. "Are you jealous?"
"Why should I be? You're mine now." He reaches for her hand, and she takes
it.
The next few miles pass with a smile, then she continues, "I don't remember
much else about the trip itself -- just that I loved the mountains and
wanted to live up there someday. Hasn't happened, though."
"When my mother's house is sold, I'll have enough money to buy us a condo up
in the mountains. Would you like that, Scully?"
She is caught by his words -- to buy them a condo. It speaks of a
permanence to their new relationship as lovers. Fear had made her worry
that he only meant for them to be together as parents, but now that scenario
has become moot. He simply means forever.
She realizes that she wants this very much.
"Yes," she murmurs. "I'd like that."
He is quiet, perhaps realizing just what has taken place between them.
She wants to ask him something, but cannot make herself say the words.
Instead, she says, "Back then, I always knew I'd be a doctor. I never
expected to join the Bureau, but you know that already." He nods. "I think
I knew even back then, though, that I'd have someone like you in my life."
He replies, "I didn't realize it until much later, but I think I knew the
same thing the day we first met, Scully."
Although the sun has not yet risen, the eastern sky begins to fill with
pinkish light, matching the glow his words have infused in her.
A plan begins to form in her mind.
Later, on the other side of Sacramento, Scully sees a road sign telling her
that they are about an hour away from Lake Tahoe. Mulder pulls off the
freeway at an exit ramp and she stretches her legs as he fills the gas tank.
He sets the latch for auto-pump and glances over at the foothills of the
Sierras in the far distance. Wind ruffles his short hair and he squints in
the early morning sunlight. She thinks her heart might burst for love of
this beautiful man.
Nervousness nearly derails her plan as she enters the well-appointed gas
station and looks around for what she needs. Nostalgia draws her toward the
pink Sno-Balls on a display, but she passes them by on her way to the candy
aisle. She sighs with relief as she finds what she has sought, then goes to
the register.
"Sweet tooth?" the clerk asks.
She chuckles and hands him the money as she unwraps the cellophane on her
purchase. "I guess so."
When she steps back outside, Mulder is leaning against the passenger side of
the car. He looks delicious, and she feels delectable in his hungry gaze.
The promise of very satisfying things to come gives her the last bit of
courage she needs.
Sidling up to him, she presses her body to his and kisses him long and hard.
Although they have not eaten since a fast food stop hours ago, his mouth is
candy sweet. She wants to wrap her arms around him, but her hand is closed
tight around the prize behind her back.
When she draws away, he raises his brows in a question.
"Mulder," she begins.
"Yes?" He sounds amused by her flirtiness, but she hears a note of
confusion in his voice.
Taking her hand from behind her back, she takes his own and places the candy
ring pop on the end of his middle finger.
"Marry me."
He freezes, shock on his face.
She has never felt more sure of anything in her life, but her confidence
begins to melt as he stares at her, processing her words. Reassuring
herself as much as him, she continues, "I want to be with you. Wanting a
child brought us together, but now I've realized that it doesn't matter as
much as waking up next to you every day for the rest of my life. I want us
to grow old together."
The corners of his mouth twitch, and his hand trembles in hers. "Will you
marry me, Mulder?" she repeats, desperate to hear him say something,
anything, even if it is a politely-worded rejection.
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath, then he says with surety,
"Yes."
So this is true happiness, she thinks as her heart fills with joy and
wonder. Another car pulls into the gas station, but the world exists
solely for the two of them as he pulls her up for another long kiss.
"Yes," he murmurs against her lips.
"Yes," she repeats.
"Aren't I supposed to buy you the ring?" he asks as he stares at the
plastic-and-sugar ring on his finger.
She laughs. "When have we ever been conventional, Mulder?"
"True." He joins her laughter.
'Unconventional' certainly suits the situation. Many women dream of their
lover proposing on bended knee in a fancy restaurant, with a diamond
solitaire sparkling in the candlelight. But she and Mulder are leaning
against a rental car at a gas station in the middle of northern California,
and the ring she has given him is a 99-cent piece of candy.
This is perfect. She wouldn't want it any other way.
"You're going to be my wife." He looks down at her, blinding love in his
eyes.
"And you're going to be my husband." She loves the way that sounds.
He laces their fingers together. "We'll be a family."
She stills, eyes wide despite the early morning sun.
"I didn't mean..." his voice trails away. "The treatments might not have
worked, but we have other options, remember? I just want you as my wife and
the mother of my children, however they might come."
The shock begins to fade, and she gives him a reassuring half-smile. "It's
okay. I know what you meant. But I don't want to talk about that now."
Mulder nods, then leans over and kisses her, his lips warm and beautifully
familiar. "Let's get out of here," he whispers against her mouth.
As they merge back onto the interstate, she remembers something in her
pocket. "We never did use the Bureau credit card, Mulder."
He chuckles as he glances over his shoulder to check his blind spot. "Think
Skinner would mind if I used it to buy you a huge diamond ring?"
"Probably wouldn't be a good idea, no."
A few miles pass as she thinks about this incredible thing that has happened
to them. Five months ago they were simply partners, in love but too afraid
to admit it to each other. Since then they have become lovers, tried to
conceive a child together, and now this has happened.
As if he can read her mind, Mulder murmurs, "Life has a funny way of
throwing curveballs, doesn't it?" Perhaps he can read her mind; it would
only be fitting.
"I'll step up to the plate with you any day, Mulder."
He laughs, full and throaty, the car swerving a bit with its force.
The peaks of the Sierras begin to peek out from behind the foothills. They
are strong and permanent, like Mulder and herself. Behind them, the sun
inches up in the sky, beginning a new day. 'Today is the first day of the
rest of our lives,' pops into her mind, and she doesn't mind the cliché.
She has waited all her life to have this kind of symbiosis with a man.
"Mulder?"
"Yes?"
"Let's do it," she says, her voice strong and sure.
"Do what?" Before she can answer, he says, "Oh, the wedding? Of course
we'll do it. Do you want to set a date?"
"Today."
"Today?" he parrots. "Now? Don't you want--"
"I want *you*." She smiles. "If we wait, we may never do it. How long did
it take us just to kiss each other? I don't want you to wear that candy
engagement ring for another seven years." This spontaneity is new, but it
feels so good.
"I want you too, Scully, but I know how important weddings are to women.
Hell, they're important to me too."
She hopes he will not bring up his first wedding ten years ago. She has
already accepted it and has no hard feelings, but doesn't want it to intrude
on this moment. Fortunately, he doesn't mention it, and she says, "I'm not
like other women, Mulder. Weddings are just a ceremony and a party. I'm
more interested in the marriage."
"True." He pauses, and she waits for him to continue. "Well, both
California and Nevada don't require waiting periods or a blood test. We
could get married immediately. Does that sound good to you? It does to
me."
She loves how his voice alone can sound like making love.
"Lake Tahoe is beautiful. I can't think of a more perfect place." And she
can't. Any place is perfect as long as he is with her.
"You don't have a dress, Scully," he reminds her.
She glances down at her light sweater and jeans. "I don't need one. That's
not me. Though, if we wanted something more appropriate for our
relationship, I might as well pull out one of my suits."
He laughs. "Don't do that. You look beautiful just the way you are."
"You do too." She reaches over and places her hand over his. He takes it
off the steering wheel and once again laces their fingers together. The
candy ring perches on his other hand, shining in the dawn light.
+++++
Mountain Shore Lodge
South Lake Tahoe, CA
May 18, 2000
At a quarter after seven on Thursday morning, Scully and Mulder stand on the
banks of Lake Tahoe as the county justice of the peace pronounces them
husband and wife.
He feels lighter than air, exhilarated and amazed that this is happening.
That they have overcome fear and failure and misunderstandings to stand here
together, committing their lives to one another. He has finally found pure,
honest happiness in this chaotic world in which they live, and she is the
one who has given it to him. She is the only one who can ever make him feel
this way.
The civil servant smiles as Mulder kisses his bride. He and Scully are both
barefoot on the beach, and he pulls her up slightly to meet his mouth.
Although she is nearly a head shorter than him as they stand, barefoot in
the sand, she feels larger than life. The scenery is magnificent but it
melts away with the touch of her tongue against his.
Yesterday was a blur of preparations. As they stood in the county clerk's
office and waited for the paperwork to be filed, she browsed through the
dozens of wedding chapel brochures, most of them too tacky to contemplate.
He laughed as she showed him a pamphlet touting western-themed weddings at
"The Authentic Ponderosa Ranch." Rolling his eyes, he murmured, "Well, we
all know what happens to a Cartwright bride."
Scully laughed and said, "I think we already have all the risk we need in
our lives."
A few minutes later, she paused and handed him one offering ceremonies on
the lake shore. She didn't need to say a word. It was perfect.
They had to pay double the usual fee to get the owners to agree on such
short notice, but now the manager and his wife serve as their witnesses as
the sun rises over the Sierra Nevadas. The Barclays have recommended a
wonderful local restaurant for a romantic breakfast, which will serve as the
reception while Scully calls her mother with the news; she hadn't wanted to
call Margaret earlier, lest her mother try to talk them into a more formal
ceremony back in D.C. This is what he and Scully want, and it is perfect.
Her back is warm in the early morning sun as he continues to kiss her,
tracing the strength of her spine. Though they are barefoot, he wears a
gray suit and she is in a simple white slip dress she found at a boutique in
town, a shawl around her shoulders to ward off the dawn chill. It is
perhaps less traditionally romantic than tulle and satin, but it fits her
body and spirit like a glove. Their only concessions to tradition are his
boutonniere and the mountain lilies pinned in her hair, and the gold bands
now on their fingers.
Simple people, simple wedding. They don't need pomp and a bevy of
spectators to validate their marriage; having her here with him is truth
enough.
"You are my everything, Mulder," she whispers, her words filling his mouth
like honey. He has always known she has the soul of a poet, deep down
beneath the pragmatism and calm.
And she is his everything. She is his wife.
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END (7/8)
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