#now u have to follow daniel around the world while he lives his sick new vamp life and try to make a companion out of ur only fledging

[ctadiablotin]

moments before disaster.

yeah armand.... daniel is rlllyyy cooking up something that smells kinda fishy huh...... ur fuckery web of cahoots and and deceits is minutes away from being revealed.....

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Everything We Didn’t Know

Niall starts to think about his future with Hannah after going on his first date with her.

Based off the song ‘Black and White’ by Niall Horan.

MASTERLIST

OC Used:  Hannah

Word Count:  2,371

~~~

That first night we were standing at your door

Fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you

Clear, happy laughter surrounded me as Hannah and I walked together up the sidewalk to her house.  She smiled over at me through her laughter, hazel eyes glittering in the light of the pale full moon that bathed us in its pearly rays.

Reaching Hannah's door, we paused on her doorstep as she fumbled with her keys.  As I gazed upon her radiant features, words formed but got tangled up before I could even speak them.

Hannah finally sorted out her keys and inserted one into her lock.  But before she could turn it, my hand was on hers, stopping her from doing so.

"Niall?"  Hannah asked in a soft, confused voice as she looked over at me through the curtain of her brunette hair.  

Quickly, before I lost my newfound courage, I leaned in and kissed her.  Nothing over the top, just a swift press of my lips to her ruby ones.  

Ask me if I want to come inside

'Cause we didn't want to end the night

Then you took my hand, and I followed you

As I drew back, Hannah let out a breathy laugh, a shy smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she avoided my gaze, unlocking her door.  "Um, do you want to come inside for a while before you head home?"  She asked quietly.

I nodded, fumbling over my words.  How was it that I could speak eloquently in front of thousands of people, but when I was with Hannah, I couldn't string two words together.  "Y-Yeah.  Sure."  I stuttered, making Hannah smother a laugh behind her hand.  

I wasn't ready for this night to end quite yet.  It had been the best of my entire life, this first date with a girl I called my best friend, yet loved like she was meant to be mine.

Hannah slipped her hand into mine, interlacing our fingers together and squeezing gently before walking through the door, me following behind.

Yeah, I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

See you standing in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

Hannah left me to find my own way through her house that I knew like my own from all the times I had been here.  As she went to the kitchen to grab us a drink, I strolled down the wooden floor of the hallway to the living room.

There was a small, yet comfortable leather sofa on one wall, with a pair of armchairs opposite it.  On the third wall, there was a dark fireplace waiting for a fire to be coaxed to life within its hearth.  A mantel sat above this, decorated with picture frames holding snapshots of Hannah's life; her memories.

Walking closer, I noticed a new photo had been added to the cluster.  Unlike the others, it was in black and white, which made me curious.  Picking it up and looking closer, I took in a quick breath as I recognized the moment framed within.

It was of Hannah and I lying out in a meadow on her Aunt's farm, looking up at the stars twinkling in the night sky.  Her younger brother Daniel had taken this photo without us being aware of his presence.

Although, Hannah might have known he was there.  That night I had been blind to anything other than the beautiful woman sitting beside me in the cool meadow grass, pointing out all the different constellations and trying to catch fireflies as they flitted about.  

Replacing the frame to its spot on the mantel, I closed my eyes and took a silent oath to love Hannah for the rest of her life.  That was the least she deserved.  

Opening my eyes, I took one more look at the photo.  As I did, a sudden vision flashed through my mind.  

Hannah was standing across from me, dressed in a gorgeous white gown.  Her hands were held within mine as I stared into her stunning hazel eyes.  We had an audience of all our friends and family, watching as we swore to love only each other as long we lived.  

Taking a deep breath, I blinked away the tears forming in my blue eyes, gazing into Hannah's smiling face.  "I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Now, we're sitting here in your living room

Telling stories while we share a drink or two

And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind

We're 65 and you ask "When did I first know?" I always knew

The vision was suddenly broken as Hannah walked into the room, holding two mugs that contained a steaming, amber liquid.  "Sorry I took so long, I thought tea would taste good."  She said apologetically, offering me one of the mugs.  

I took it, breathing in the steam and smiling at her.  "No worries, Hannah.  It smells good.  What is it?"  I asked, before taking a slow sip of the piping hot liquid, grimacing as it burned my tongue.  

Hannah giggled at my expression, cradling her mug between her hands.  "Earl Grey.  Do you like that?"  She asked, and I nodded.  

"Absolutely.  I'm good with any tea, Love."  I said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs, watching as Hannah settled herself in the other, closing her eyes as she took in a deep breath of the steam rising from her white mug with the pink band at the top.  

Then she opened her hazel eyes and her gaze flickered over to look into mine.  A little smile decorated her gorgeous face, and if I hadn't already known that I loved her, I would have said that this moment showed me that.

Instantly, I saw us forty years in the future, sitting together on a porch somewhere, watching the sun set.  Hannah turned to look at me, her face boasting numerous laugh lines and wrinkles.  She was frailer now, we both were.  But I couldn't care less; she was still my Hannah even as her body grew older.  

"Niall, when did you know that I was the one?"  She asked in a soft voice, her hazel eyes gazing up at me.

I took a deep breath, looking out at the sunset a little longer before turning to gaze at her.  Strands of snow-white hair were falling across her face and I stretched out a slightly shaky hand to brush them back behind her ears.  

A cheeky smirk grew on my face as I did so.  "Beautiful, I always knew."  

Yeah, I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

See you standing in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

Returning to the present, I sipped on my cooling tea, watching Hannah as she told me about an incident that happened during one of her classes at beautician school.  It involved something about a cat and mascara.  

As she told me how some of the seniors had decided to apply their skills to the cat instead of human models, the story punctuated by her laughs, I took a mental picture of us together, turning it black and white and settling it next to the photo of us out in the starry meadow.  

Hannah and I smiled as we watched her little nephew, Zeke, walk down the aisle, a purple velvet pillow in his arms.  On the pillow rested two little bands, one gold and the other silver.  

Finally, he reached the altar where Hannah and I stood, and we both took a ring, turning back towards the pastor.

Hannah went first, pledging to be faithful to me all our lives, both through sickness and health, life and death.  Then she gently slid the golden band onto my finger, blinking back the tears welling in her eyes as she did so.  Her voice was choked up as she spoke, "Niall, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

I want the world to witness

When we finally say I do

We were curled up together on the couch, watching the news.  Hannah had her head resting on my shoulder, her breathing slow and gentle.  I was about ready to join her in sleep when something on the TV caught my eye.

The news anchor had begun a clip of our wedding and was speaking.  "...and all of us here at CKI want to wish this happy new couple the best following their gorgeous wedding yesterday afternoon.  If the new Mr. and Mrs. Niall Horan are watching this from wherever they are honeymooning, we extend our congratulations!"  

I turned the TV off and smiled, looking down at my beautiful new wife as she slumbered peacefully.  

It's the way you love

I gotta give it back to you

Tears streamed down Hannah's face as she looked at me, trembling.  "Niall, why do you love me?"  She asked, brow furrowed in confusion.  "I mean, I'm not famous, I can't sing like you, and I'm certainly not as beautiful as some of those other girls."  She said, and I rushed to console her.

"Nyah, sweetheart," I soothed, trying frantically to think of how to explain my answer to her question.  "This might sound a bit strange to you, but I love you because of how you love me.  You love me so completely, so selflessly, I just can't help but give love back to you.  You're all I'll ever need, Love."

I can't promise picket fences

Or sunny afternoons

I looked over at the angelic figure beside me, brunette hair shining in the golden light of the sun.  Shoving a hand in my pocket, I fingered the tiny black box stowed within.  

Now was the time, everything was perfect.  We were walking together in Hannah's Aunt's meadow, and all I had to do was ask this beautiful woman four words.  But those four words would change my life.

Taking a deep breath, I sank down on one knee, pulling out the box and opening it up as Hannah turned around to say something to me.  But as she caught sight of me on one knee, whatever she was going to say died on her lips.

"Oh, Niall..."  She gasped, covering her mouth with a hand.  

"Hannah Grace ben Tarben, I can't promise you picket fences or sunny afternoons, or the sun or the stars, but I can promise you that I will love you for the rest of my life, that nobody else will ever steal me away from you.  Will you marry me?"  I asked, almost afraid of what the answer might be.

"Yes."  Hannah breathed, and a grin leapt onto my face as I stood up, sliding the ring onto her finger.  Then I took the chance to just pause and look down at her.  

Vaguely, in the far future, I could see her standing in the doorway of a little house somewhere, a baby balanced on her hip as she welcomed me home from work.  A smile crept across my face at the vision.  Someday that would happen in some form.  Someday...

But, at night when I close my eyes

I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love ya

I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a star lit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

All too soon, the night had to end, and I left Hannah's house, going back to mine.  

Lying on my back in bed, I closed my eyes, trying to sleep.  But all I could see was Hannah and I framed in a black and white photo, smiles frozen on our faces as we danced in the moonlight.  A scene from the past this time.  

There would never be another person like Hannah; I could never love anybody but her, I had sworn that in my mind tonight.  

See you standing in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

And when the day came--and I knew it would--I would wait for her at the end of an aisle and watch her walk down it in a beautiful white dress, a beaming smile on her face.  

Together, we would vow, in front of all our family and friends that there would never be another.  That forever it would only be us two.  

I knew exactly what I would say to her; what I would promise for the rest of my life, and I said it aloud to the dark room.

"I promise that there will never be another, Hannah.  I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Hannah smiled at me, wiping away tears.  "And I promise that till the end of my days, that I will love you, Niall."  She said, voice husky with unshed tears.

The pastor smiled, nodding to me.  "With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss the bride."

I smiled, taking Hannah in my arms and gently brushing away the tears streaming down her cheeks with my thumb.  "You heard the man.  We're stuck together till death do us part, 'Nyah."  I whispered, making her laugh.

"I'm okay with that, Nialler."  She whispered back, settling the last of my fears into its grave.  Even with everything we didn't know yet, we would make it.  We had sworn that we would.  

[joelyjo]

Fic - Everything in its Place

Author: joelyjo

Rating: Strong R (sex and birth)

Summary: Scully is determined that the new baby will be born at home. Will it be peace and calm and everything in its place? Or will it be drama-filled all over again?

Author’s Notes: Written for the Nursery Files Labour (Sorry, I can’t bring myself to miss out the U) Day challenge, although it’s a bit late because I’m a bit rubbish at deadlines. Any feedback is very welcome. I’m fairly new to the fandom on tumblr, if not to writing, and eager for anything, be it positive or negative! Thanks, all.

 Tagging: @marinafrenzy and @today-in-fic

 William came into the world like a storm. When Scully thinks back to that night in Democrat Hot Springs, all she remembers is the white-hot pain and the burn of anxiety. She’d never felt more alone in a room full of people. Never been so terrified.

This time, she is adamant. It will be a peaceful birth. It will be at home and she will have Mulder with her through every contraction and every push. She tells her doctor all this and he listens, calmly and patiently.

“It’s lovely that you have such a clearly outlined birth plan, Dana. But you must remember that babies come when they are ready and things rarely go to plan. Be prepared for your plan to get shot all to hell.”

Scully sees Mulder looking from the doctor to her and back again and can read his thoughts like an open book. He does not fancy this doctor’s chances at appealing to Scully’s sense of reason and logic. “Mulder,” she says, pre-empting his interjection. “You know this is what I want.”

“Oh, I know it, Scully.” He glances again at the doctor, their gazes conspiratorial. She knows they will speak when he can get her out of earshot. Well, let them plot, she thinks. She will have this baby at home and everything will be in its place.

Six weeks before her due date, she begins to nest. The house is cleaned from top to bottom. She gets down on her knees and scrubs things that haven’t been scrubbed in decades, turns out cupboards and drawers, vacuums until she breaks the vacuum. Mulder tries to help, but most of the time his efforts end in him failing to meet her exacting standards and giving up before they come to blows over the right way to fold tiny onesies and stack diapers.

Her mood is alternately calm and zen then raging like a hurricane. She can’t sleep properly, can’t get comfortable in any position… and, just when she thinks things are at their nadir, they have a heatwave. July sun pounds down on the house and every room is hotter than hell. She curses Mulder for not fixing the AC and casts him from the house to find an engineer, but every engineer in the state is booked up for weeks. So instead she basks in front of a desk fan, takes to wandering the house in her underwear. Mulder stares and spends the week trying to hide a series of persistent erections. She is almost ready to climb into the refrigerator when the heat breaks in a massive thunderstorm that lasts most of the night.

In the morning, he brings her coffee and rye toast in bed and she feels like a different woman. She realises why when she stands naked before the bedroom mirror and sees that the baby has dropped. Mulder comes from behind her and wraps his arms around her, his big hands cupping the massive watermelon of her abdomen. “I can breathe again, Mulder,” she tells him, almost dizzy with the rush of oxygen. He smiles and kisses her neck.

“Not long now,” he murmurs and she smiles back at him. She is ready.

But nothing happens. Days pass and her due date approaches. Her bad mood returns and Mulder does his best to keep out of her way. Even that is not enough, though, and one day she follows him into work, waddling down to the basement to complain about the mess and try to take over his latest investigation. Skinner finds them arguing an hour later and nothing can hide the expression that passes across his face when his eyes fall on her swollen belly.

“Agent Scully, what are you doing here?”  His voice is full of concern, but there’s just enough chastisement to make her blood boil. She rounds on him.

“This is my office. I can be in it if I wish… sir.”

Skinner glances at Mulder and the two men share a beleaguered look. Scully’s fury mounts. She is standing behind the desk, her hands on her hips, and she knows she is more intimidating than an angry bull.

It takes them two hours to convince her to go home.

Two days later, the midwife comes to the house. Her name is Joy and she is a sweet, middle-aged Hispanic lady with amazing hair and a no-nonsense manner. She wastes no time at all in scoping out the house, sizing up where to place the birthing pool, the foetal monitor, the weighing scales, the gas cylinders. Scully is heartened by her professionalism and tells Mulder how pleased she is that they found the extra $500 for a nurse-midwife. “It’s not that I’m expecting anything to go wrong,” she tells Joy. “I’m a medical doctor myself and I’ve done this in somewhere with no electricity and no running water.” She leaves out the bit about being surrounded by alien witnesses. Joy may appear no-nonsense, but that detail is likely to send her packing. “But I am glad you are going to be here.”

“It’s nice that you’re happy and feel secure, Miss Scully,” Joy replies. “But I want you to remember that birth is a funny old game. It happens when it happens and how it happens can be anybody’s guess. Be prepared to find yourself back in the hospital because I won’t allow anything to happen that puts you or your baby at risk.”

Mulder nods in the background.

That evening, they fire up the grill and Mulder cooks steak and spicy vegetable kebabs. Afterwards, they sit together on the porch swing in the gathering darkness and watch the night insects crowding around the lamps. Mulder cradles her belly, rubbing gentle circles over the taut skin and Scully finds herself softening with his touches. “I’m sorry if I’ve not been very easy to live with these last few weeks,” she confesses.

Behind her, Mulder chuffs out a laugh. “I think I preferred being dead.”

She scowls at him and bats his bicep with her hand. “I’m huge, my feet are so swollen I can barely get my shoes on, my whole body aches, I want to pee constantly, I can’t get comfortable, I can’t sleep but I’m so tired. It’s enough to put anyone in a bad mood.”

“Yeah,” says Mulder ruefully. “I guess I never thought about it before. I didn’t really pay attention last time – there were other things on my mind.”

“I know.”

She twists and leans up to kiss him. He is warm and there is the lingering taste of spices on his breath. “I love you,” she says against his mouth. He doesn’t reply, but he takes her face in his hands and kisses her thoroughly and she hears him anyway.

Three days later, she wakes with backache and an odd feeling in her abdomen. It’s not pain, as such, but a kind of tightness. She goes to the calendar and crosses off the previous day, a habit she got into around 30 weeks and mulls the sensation over. Her due date is tomorrow. The day after Labor Day. She can’t remember clearly feeling anything similar before, but then, she muses, everything happened so fast towards the end that, like Mulder, she didn’t notice much of anything with any focus.

She showers and dresses while he goes out for a run, setting some coffee to brew when she thinks he’s been gone about his usual time. Taking her own mug of green tea out onto the porch, she unfolds one of the loungers and is dozing in the sunshine when he bounds up the porch steps, sweaty and breathing hard. He greets  her with a kiss and a cheerful, “Enjoying the holiday weekend, Scully?”

She opens one eye and regards him critically. “Ugh. Go shower and then we’ll talk. There’s coffee in the pot.”  

He nods, grins and withdraws upstairs. A moment later she hears the water start in the bathroom, then some time later, he returns in chino shorts and a tank, hair wet and with the scent of shower gel on his skin. He hoists himself up and perches on the porch rail with the kind of nimbleness that makes Scully ache with jealousy. Sitting there with his tanned, muscular limbs on show he looks all of twenty-five instead of fifty-something. “It’s Labor Day, the weather’s great,” he says. “What shall we do?”

“Have a baby?” she suggests.

“Well, yeah, there is that,” he agrees with a grin. “But what if baby’s not playing ball?”

Scully sighs. She is done with being pregnant, done to the point that any activity other than giving birth seems an unattractive option.

“I know you’re sick of this, Scully,” he says.

She makes a face. “No kidding, Mulder.”

“Yeah… No kidding. But is it better to be sick of it stuck indoors sniping at each other or sick of it outside in the sunshine with a chance of being distracted?”

Considering his suggestion, she thinks that she could quite easily hunker down here on the lounger for the rest of the day, but she can see the look in his eyes and knows that if she chooses that, he might just go anyway, without her, and that she absolutely does not want. “Okay,” she agrees.

“A walk and an ice-cream at Burke Lake?”

The idea surprises her with how good it sounds. “Yeah… Okay. You’re going to have to help me tie my shoes though.”

The lake is glorious in the early September sunshine and after she manoeuvres herself out of the car, she has to stand a moment, flexing the muscles in her back and admiring the expanse of twinkling water. Scully wonders briefly why he chose here, of all the places he could’ve picked, but can’t put her finger on a reason why. The place is sort of familiar and she figures she must have visited before with her family or maybe with Daniel or Jack – it’s the kind of place you might come with a romantic partner. He comes to stand behind her and looks out at the lake too. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” She nods. “You up for a short walk, then?”

There are other people here, but it is not as busy as she imagined it would be, so they set off on one of the flat, easy trails along the lakeside. She feels huge and ungainly and walks so slowly she is sure Mulder must be frustrated, but he seems content to fall into pace beside her. She reaches for his hand and he takes it, interlocking their fingers and then smiling down at her, his eyes obscured by sunglasses. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

They walk for a mile or so, then she has to stop. Her back is still aching and although she had thought the exercise might have helped it, it doesn’t seem to have had that effect. She perches on a boulder and rolls her shoulders, stretching herself out. Mulder leaves her alone and jogs down to edge of the river to skim stones across the gently lapping surface. “Hey,” she shouts after a few moments. “You promised me ice-cream!”

He turns and grins up at her. “I sure did, Scully. You want to head back?”

“I want ice-cream.”

On the way back to the car, Scully spots a picnic area and a kiosk selling snacks and ice cream and instructs Mulder to make good on his offer. While he goes to fulfil his duty, she wanders vaguely amongst the empty wooden tables then beyond through the parkland. She finds a shady spot beneath a tree and eases herself down onto the grass, feeling a little like a camel trying to get its awkward limbs folded in just the right way. Mulder returns with two enormous cones of ice-cream drizzled in strawberry sauce and drops down beside her. They sit and eat in silence for a while, then Mulder pauses and frowns. “You are sure about this home birth thing, aren’t you?”

She blinks and turns to him. She had guessed this was coming, in fact, she’s surprised he hasn’t said something already. It’s felt like he’s been holding back since Joy visited. “It’s just… If I’d had to place a bet on where you’d want to have this baby, it wouldn’t have been our lounge.”

She is half a breath away from snapping at him, tired and defensive as she is, then stops herself. Instead, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Mulder, when William was born, I was surrounded by aliens, in a place I’d never seen before, with nobody I loved nearby. It was the most frightening experience of my life.” Mulder’s face is still, but his eyes are locked on hers. “I don’t know why I’ve been given this second chance, why we’ve been given this, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that things are as far removed from that first experience as I can make them. So I don’t want a roomful of people, and a strange hospital suite. I want home…” She reaches out to take his hand in hers. “And us.”

“Even if it’s dangerous?”

“There’s no reason to think that it will be dangerous,” she assures. “I’m fit and healthy, all the scans have shown the baby is fit and healthy too. We have Joy. We’re not hundreds of miles from civilisation with an alien threat hanging over us. I’ve done this before.”

He stares at her for a long time, then starts to nod. She smiles as she realises he is acquiescing to her wishes and squeezes his hand. He returns the gesture and then places his hand on her belly, palm flat, and holds it there. Scully watches him, remembering another time when he touched her in the same way, when she lay in a hospital bed and neither of them was sure about anything. “Home,” he says, and his voice is rough with emotion. “Us.” He leans in to kiss her, softly at first, then with a growing passion.

Breaking away, she looks around them. It is quiet but still a public place, and she can hear the distant sounds of children whooping and yelling down by the lake, the hum of a motorboat. The sun glints off faraway car windows. She hunkers closer to him and presses her mouth to his neck. “You know,” she murmurs against his skin, “they say that one of the most reliable ways to bring on labour is to have sex.”

Mulder pulls back and regards her amusedly. “Here?” She arches her brows. “My, my, Dana Scully, what has got into you? I’m not objecting, but…” Her hand closes around his crotch and his breathing hitches. “But… wow. You must really be sick of this.”

“You have no idea, Mulder,” she tells him and kisses him again. Desperation has made her bolder than she’s ever been and right now, she couldn’t care less if her priest spotted her across the parking lot.

“I’ll warn you now, Scully, I’ve had several fantasies about this.”

He bites her lip and watches, looking somewhat punch-drunk, as she straddles him, the fabric of her dress stretching and rucking up so her knees are revealed.  “Tell me about them,” she commands, and grinds down on him. Mulder’s answering groan is like fire coursing in her blood. Sex has been the last thing on her mind for months but suddenly she is consumed with aching desire. She wants him and she wants him bad.

Mulder rubs his hands up and down her thighs. “You really want to know?”

“I do,” she replies. She is rocking herself against his leg now, and she can see him through his shorts, hard like a bar. Her hands are on his button. It is crazy that she’s contemplating fucking him right here, in a public park, but her entire body seems to be humming with need for him.  

“I’ll be honest, Scully,” he says, breaking her train of thought. “Doing it outside hasn’t been in that many fantasies of mine. But…” He glances around them, listening dog-like a moment. “Making love to you somewhere where we might get caught… Now we’re talking. That one has always been high on my list.”

She’s hot now and can feel herself throbbing with eagerness. She slides his zipper down and reaches in to feel him, stroking hard from root to tip. His eyes flutter closed a moment. “Have we ever been caught?” she asks. “In these fantasies of yours?” He lifts himself and she undresses him so that he’s free. A moment later and her hand is on his cock, skin to skin, and she revels in the way his face changes. She is pretty sure she could ask him to deny that aliens exist in this moment and he’d lurch to his feet and shout it as loud as his lungs could make him.

“I did once imagine that Skinner caught us,” he says, his words made breathless by what she’s doing to him. “But all I could see after that was his face and it kind of ruined it for me. So, no, let’s say not.” He thrusts into her hand. “Is there anybody about?”

“Not a soul,” she tells him with a smile and eases up his body. His hands reach and pull aside her panties so he can push inside her. “Now shut up and fuck me, Mulder.”

And he does.

Later, they lie curled up together in the haze of orgasmic bliss, alternately kissing and dozing. He strokes her belly and teases for more until she has to push him away because her back is driving her mad now. He pouts a little, but relents and uses the rejection to rise to his feet, button himself back up and stretch. “Why here, Mulder?” she asks him as he holds out his hand and pulls her to standing. “It’s lovely, but there were lots of other places we could have gone – fireworks displays, outdoor parties, concerts…”

They start to walk back towards his car.  

“You don’t remember, Scully?”

“Remember what?”

“Long time ago… eighteen years ago, actually. I came here on a lead. There’d been a bigfoot sighting in the woods on the other side of the lake – it was a load of bull, but it was something to do on a Saturday afternoon. And you called me and we talked about stuff. We made arrangements to go for dinner that evening.” He looks down at her, his smile years away and drifting on the recollections of memory. “And when we finished up talking, just before you hung up, you told me you loved me.”

She can’t help the grin that breaks on her face. “So I’ve never even been here before?”

“Well, no, I guess not.”

A laugh burbles out of her. Mulder looks wounded.

“It’s not that funny. It’s a special place to me.”

“Oh Mulder,” she giggles, “that is so perfectly you.”

“The hazards of a eidetic memory…” He holds out his hand and she takes it. “Come on, let’s go home. We can pick up a pizza on the way back.”

They take a detour into DC to get her favourite pizza and while they’re waiting for their order, watch as a fireworks display over the Potomac kicks off. He suggests taking the pizza and going to listen to the National Symphony Orchestra on the West Lawn but she’s been before and so has he and all she really wants now is to get home, take off her too-tight sneakers, put on her pyjamas and feast on garlic stuffed crust double pepperoni and mushroom pizza.

So he takes her home and juggles the pizza in one hand as he offers the other to her to help her out of the car. The light is failing now and after he dumps the pizza on the coffee table, he goes around flicking lamps on while she climbs wearily upstairs to dress for bed.

She’s at the top of the stairs in her pyjamas when she feels a popping sensation in her abdomen and seconds later, fluid pours down her legs and onto the floor. Scully starts and takes a step backwards, gasping involuntarily as she observes the puddle she is now standing in. “Mulder!” she shouts.

“Yeah?” he calls back from the kitchen.

“I need some help here.”

He appears at the bottom of the stairs, beer bottle in hand and frowns up at her. “What’s the matter?”

“Um… I need a cloth, I think.” She looks down at the pool on the floor. She feels a bit dislocated, like she’s hovering above her body and watching rather than actually being here.  

“Oh,” he says, realising. “Okay, um. Yeah.”

Mulder makes a move to go up the stairs, then seems to remember he has a beer bottle in his hand and goes back down, darts into the kitchen and returns with a roll of kitchen towel. Working with an obvious sense of panic, he mops up the pool of fluid then looks up at her. “Are you okay?”

“Mm… Yeah?” She frowns as her abdomen tightens in a clear and obvious contraction. “Ohhh, I think this is it, Mulder.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course it is. I, er… I’ll call Joy. Can you get downstairs okay?”

She nods and, gripping the bannister, she descends slowly. Another contraction hits as she takes the final step and she balks, groaning. Things are happening faster than before, she thinks. That was just about thirty seconds between contractions. She’s about to open her mouth and explain this to Mulder, when he appears in front of her, pale-faced. “Scully, I’m making my panic face. Joy’s not answering. Her phone is going to answer machine. I’ve, I’ve left a message, but I don’t know what else to do. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

“No!” she barks and Mulder flinches. She does not want an ambulance, because ambulances take you to only one place, the ER, and there is no way she is having this baby on a gurney in the ER. “No,” she repeats, steadier. “Keep trying Joy. She’s maybe out at some kind of party and can’t hear her phone.” Drawing in a deep breath and feeling her uterus relax, she adds, “We’ve got time. This isn’t happening right away.”

Mulder nods. He looks a little lost, which strikes her as vaguely amusing. A man who has faced mutants and alien bounty hunters and serial killers is overcome by the prospect of the birth of his own child. She reaches out a hand and pats his arm in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. “It’s going to be fine, Mulder. We got this.”

“Hm, yeah, you got this, Scully. Me? I’m not so sure. I’ve never delivered a baby before.”

“You won’t have to. Joy will answer her phone soon.”

Her belly tightens again and this time she has to close her eyes with the strength of it. How long was that apart, she thinks. “Mulder, you’ve got to time the contractions. I need to know how far apart they are.”

“Okay. Okay, I can do that.” He pulls up his sleeve and glances at his watch.

“And we need to fill the pool with water.”

Thirty minutes later and the pool is inflated and filling with water. Mulder, happy to have some distraction to keep him busy, is standing over it in a slightly proprietorial manner, watching the water rising up the sides. “You going straight in, Scully?” he asks, turning to see her in the grip of another contraction. She nods, breathing too hard to reply. She’s been walking about the lounge and kitchen, stopping only when contractions hit. Sweat is pearling on her brow and she reaches up a hand to wipe it away. She’s naked but for one of his t-shirts, her hair scraped back in a scruffy ponytail. It’s undignified, for sure, but right now, she couldn’t care less.

She climbs over the side of the pool and sinks down in the water, the t-shirt darkening. It’s warm and soothing and when the next contraction grips her, it feels a little less like she’s being held by a vice. “Have you tried Joy again?” she asks.

“Still the same.”

Scully closes her eyes and wills calm to embrace her. It’s all right, everything is fine, she can do this. Mulder can do this. She does her best not to see the anxiety behind his eyes. “We need to think of what to do if she doesn’t answer.”

Mulder takes a deep breath. “It’s pretty clear what needs to be done, isn’t it? Either I help you, or we call an ambulance. And since you seem quite against the latter option, I guess it’s you and me, Scully.”

She hums her way through another contraction, shifting position in the pool. “It’s not going to be long, Mulder.”

And it isn’t.

Forty minutes later, the contractions are unrelenting and she’s feeling an intense need to push; Mulder is behind her, hands on her shoulders, his voice in her ear, coaxing, urging, breathing with her.

It’s coming.

She can feel it in her very centre.

She shouts his name, gets up on her knees and holds his arms, vice-like, desperate. He’s still as a rock. She leans forward, presses her forehead to his, breathes his air. “Push, Scully,” he tells her. “Come on, you’re doing this. Push.”  

Behind them, the door clicks and in walks Joy, but neither of them notice. With one last, tremendous effort, the baby is born and Scully looks down to see the water blooming pink and twists around. Joy lifts the tiny body from the water and the air is instantly filled with that beautiful sound of a newborn cry. “Here you go, Mama, take your baby.”

Scully brings the squawking, bluish child to her chest and laughs deliriously, her eyes filling with sudden tears. “Oh my God, Mulder, look…”

She looks up at him and the wonder on his face is worth every hardship she’s ever endured. “She’s beautiful,” he whispers. He kisses the top of her head, then with his thumb, strokes the wet, dark hair on the baby’s forehead.

“What you going to call her?” Joy asks from the side-lines.

Their eyes lock. “Ellen,” replies Mulder. “Ellen Margaret.”

“Ellen Margaret Mulder,” Joy repeats. “Born on Labor Day 2018.”

“Kid’s already got a sense of the apt.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” explains Joy, reaching into her bag. “I was at the concert on the West Lawn. It was just by chance that I checked my phone and realised I’d put the ringer on silent. What an ass I am!” She stands with hands on hips beside the pool, smiling down at them. “But look at the three of you! What a bit of teamwork! You going to cut the cord, Dad? Then you can hold her if you like, while I sort Mom out.”

Mulder looks at Scully and smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.” She can tell he’s nervous and that he’s thinking back to that time in her apartment all those years ago, when he first held William, only to have to run and leave him mere days later. For his sake, she wants him to hold this child and never have to let go. She wants it too, but for Mulder, even more.

Joy clamps the cord, waits a moment, then instructs him to cut. “There we go,” she says. “Good job, guys. You’re an independent being now, Miss Ellen. You go on to your Daddy now while we get your Mama all cleaned up.”

Leaning down and taking the naked baby, Mulder wraps her in a soft muslin blanket. He cuddles her into his body and Scully thinks that her heart might explode from the look on his face. She’s seen this scene in her head over and over, in a thousand dreams and daytime fantasies. Sometimes the baby is William, other times she’s been unsure whether the baby is even hers. But every time, it’s been the smile on his lips that has remained with her, long after the rest of the vision has gone. And so she watches, and takes it all in… the silence in the room, the tick of the ancient clock in Mulder’s study, the creak of the floors as he waltzes aimlessly about the lounge, the softness of the light and the gentle sounds of a newborn baby, the murmur of his voice as he breathes words of love in her tiny ear, and as she watches, the undimming smile on Mulder’s face.      

 The End.

[lifeofaliterarynerd]

We Need Diverse Books: Black History Month Edition                                          *Books by black authors and/or have black protagonists

How It Went Down - Kekla Magoon //  When sixteen-year-old Tariq Johnson dies from two gunshot wounds, his community is thrown into an uproar. Tariq was black. The shooter, Jack Franklin, is white. In the aftermath of Tariq's death, everyone has something to say, but no two accounts of the events line up. Day by day, new twists further obscure the truth. Tariq's friends, family, and community struggle to make sense of the tragedy, and to cope with the hole left behind when a life is cut short. 

X - Ilyasah Shabazz & Kekla Magoon //  Cowritten by Malcolm X’s daughter, this riveting and revealing novel follows the formative years of the man whose words and actions shook the world. X follows Malcolm from his childhood to his imprisonment for theft at age twenty, when he found the faith that would lead him to forge a new path and command a voice that still resonates today.

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas // Sixteen-year-old Starr lives in two worlds: the poor neighbourhood where she was born and raised and her posh high school in the suburbs. The uneasy balance between them is shattered when Starr is the only witness to the fatal shooting of her unarmed best friend, Khalil, by a police officer. Now what Starr says could destroy her community. It could also get her killed.  

The Women of Brewster Place - Gloria Naylor //  We follow the stories of seven women living in Brewster Place, a bleak inner-city sanctuary, creating a powerful, moving portrait of the strengths, struggles, and hopes of black women in America. Vulnerable and resilient, openhanded and open-hearted, these women forge their lives in a place that in turn threatens and protects—a common prison and a shared home. 

Piecing Me Together - Renée Watson //  Jade believes she must get out of her neighborhood if she’s ever going to succeed. Her mother says she has to take every opportunity. She has. She accepted a scholarship to a mostly-white private school and even Saturday morning test prep opportunities. But some opportunities feel more demeaning than helpful. Like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for “at-risk” girls. Except really, it’s for black girls. From “bad” neighborhoods. 

Shadowshaper - Daniel José Older //  Sierra Santiago was looking forward to a fun summer of making art, hanging out with her friends, and skating around Brooklyn. But then a weird zombie guy crashes the first party of the season. Sierra's near-comatose abuelo begins to say "No importa" over and over. And when the graffiti murals in Bed-Stuy start to weep.... Well, something stranger than the usual New York mayhem is going on.

The Rock and The River - Kekla Magoon //  Set in 1968 Chicago, Thirteen -year-old Sam realizes it's not easy being the son of known civil rights activist Roland Childs. Especially when his older (and best friend), Stick, begins to drift away from him for no apparent reason. And then it happens: Sam finds something that changes everything forever. Sam has always had faith in his father, but when he finds literature about the Black Panthers under Stick's bed, he's not sure who to believe: his father or his best friend. Suddenly, nothing feels certain anymore. 

Monster - Walter Dean Myers //    Sixteen-year-old Steve Harmon is on trial for murder. A Harlem drugstore owner was shot and killed in his store, and the word is that Steve served as the lookout. Guilty or innocent, Steve becomes a pawn in the hands of "the system," cluttered with cynical authority figures and unscrupulous inmates, who will turn in anyone to shorten their own sentences. For the first time, Steve is forced to think about who he is as he faces prison, where he may spend all the tomorrows of his life. 

This Side of Home - Renée Watson //  Identical twins Nikki and Maya have been on the same page for everything—friends, school, boys and starting off their adult lives at a historically African-American college. But as their neighborhood goes from rough-and-tumble to up-and-coming, suddenly filled with pretty coffee shops and boutiques, Nikki is thrilled while Maya feels like their home is slipping away. Suddenly, the sisters who had always shared everything must confront their dissenting feelings on the importance of their ethnic and cultural identities and, in the process, learn to separate themselves from the long shadow of their identity as twins. 

Brown Girl Dreaming - Jacqueline Woodson //  Raised in South Carolina and New York, Woodson always felt halfway home in each place. In vivid poems, she shares what it was like to grow up as an African American in the 1960s and 1970s, living with the remnants of Jim Crow and her growing awareness of the Civil Rights movement. Touching and powerful, each poem is both accessible and emotionally charged, each line a glimpse into a child’s soul as she searches for her place in the world.  

Promise of Shadows - Justine Ireland //  Zephyr Mourning has never been very good at being a Harpy. She’d rather watch reality TV than learn forty-seven ways to kill a man, and she pretty much sucks at wielding magic. Zephyr was ready for a future pretending to be a normal human instead of a half-god assassin. But all that changes when her sister is murdered—and she uses a forbidden dark power to save herself from the same fate. 

Fake ID - Lamara Giles //   My name isn’t really Nick Pearson. I shouldn’t tell you where I’m from or why my family moved to Stepton, Virginia. I shouldn’t tell you who I really am, or my hair, eye, and skin color. And I definitely shouldn’t tell you about my friend Eli Cruz and the major conspiracy he was about to uncover when he died—right after I moved to town. About how I had to choose between solving his murder with his hot sister, Reya, and “staying low-key” like the Program has taught me. About how moving to Stepon changed my life forever. But I’m going to 

Endangered - Lamar Giles //  The one secret she cares about keeping—her identity—is about to be exposed. Unless Lauren "Panda" Daniels—an anonymous photoblogger who specializes in busting classmates and teachers in compromising positions—plays along with her blackmailer's little game of Dare or . . . Dare. But when the game turns deadly, Panda doesn't know what to do. And she may need to step out of the shadows to save herself . . . and everyone else on the Admirer's hit list. 

Don’t Fail Me Now - Una LaMarche //  Michelle and Leah only have one thing in common: Buck Devereaux, the biological father who abandoned them when they were little. After news trickles back to them that Buck is dying, they make the uneasy decision to drive across country to his hospice in California. Leah hopes for closure; Michelle just wants to give him a piece of her mind. Five people in a failing, old station wagon, living off free samples at food courts across America, and the most pressing question on Michelle’s mind is: Who will break down first--herself or the car? 

Flygirl - Sherri L Smith //  Ida Mae Jones dreams of flight. Her daddy was a pilot and being black didn't stop him from fulfilling his dreams. But her daddy's gone now, and being a woman, and being black, are two strikes against her. When America enters the war with Germany and Japan, the Army creates the WASP, the Women Airforce Service Pilots - and Ida suddenly sees a way to fly as well as do something significant to help her brother stationed in the Pacific. But even the WASP won't accept her as a black woman, forcing Ida Mae to make a difficult choice of "passing," of pretending to be white to be accepted into the program. Hiding one's racial heritage, denying one's family, denying one's self is a heavy burden. And while Ida Mae chases her dream, she must also decide who it is she really wants to be. 

Mare’s War - Tanita S Davis //  Meet Mare, a World War II veteran and a grandmother like no other. She was once a willful teenager who escaped her less than perfect life in the deep South and lied about her age to join the African American Battalion of the Women's Army Corps. Now she is driving her granddaughters—two willful teenagers in their own rite—on a cross-country road trip. The girls are initially skeptical of Mare's flippy wigs and stilletos, but they soon find themselves entranced by the story she has to tell, and readers will be too. 

Not Otherwise Specified - Hannah Mockowitz //  Etta is tired of dealing with all of the labels and categories that seem so important to everyone else in her small Nebraska hometown. Everywhere she turns, someone feels she's too fringe for the fringe. Not gay enough for the Dykes, her ex-clique, thanks to a recent relationship with a boy; not tiny and white enough for ballet, her first passion; and not sick enough to look anorexic (partially thanks to recovery). Etta doesn’t fit anywhere— until she meets Bianca, the straight, white, Christian, and seriously sick girl in Etta’s therapy group. Both girls are auditioning for Brentwood, a prestigious New York theater academy that is so not Nebraska. Bianca seems like Etta’s salvation, but how can Etta be saved by a girl who needs saving herself? 

Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler //  When unattended environmental and economic crises lead to social chaos, not even gated communities are safe. In a night of fire and death Lauren Olamina, a minister's young daughter, loses her family and home and ventures out into the unprotected American landscape. But what begins as a flight for survival soon leads to something much more: a startling vision of human destiny... and the birth of a new faith. 

The Sun is Also a Star-Nicola Yoon //  Follow Natasha, a girl who believes in science and facts, as she meets Daniel, a dutiful son and dreamer, as they spend a single day together in New York - and try to stop Natasha’s family from being deported to Jamacia.

Everything, Everything - Nicola Yoon //  My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla. But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. His name is Olly. Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster 

Pointe - Brandy Colbert //  Theo is better now. She's eating again, dating guys who are almost appropriate, and well on her way to becoming an elite ballet dancer. But when her oldest friend, Donovan, returns home after spending four long years with his kidnapper, Theo starts reliving memories about his abduction—and his abductor. Donovan isn't talking about what happened, and even though Theo knows she didn't do anything wrong, telling the truth would put everything she's been living for at risk. But keeping quiet might be worse. 

The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl - Issa Rae //  Being an introvert in a world that glorifies cool isn’t easy. But  Rae covers everything from cybersexing in the early days of the Internet to deflecting unsolicited comments on weight gain, from navigating the perils of eating out alone and public displays of affection to learning to accept yourself—natural hair and all.

Tiny Pretty Things - Dhonielle Clayton & Sona Charaipotra //  Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama. Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her. And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever. When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best. 

Liar-Justine Larbalestier //  Micah will freely admit that she’s a compulsive liar, but that may be the one honest thing she’ll ever tell you. Over the years she’s duped her classmates, her teachers, and even her parents, and she’s always managed to stay one step ahead of her lies. That is, until her boyfriend dies under brutal circumstances and her dishonesty begins to catch up with her. But is it possible to tell the truth when lying comes as naturally as breathing? 

Hidden Figures - Margot Lee Shatterly //  Before John Glenn orbited the earth or Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, a group of dedicated female mathematicians known as “human computers” used pencils, slide rules, and adding machines to calculate the numbers that would launch rockets, and astronauts, into space. This book brings to life the stories of Dorothy Vaughan, Mary Jackson, Katherine Johnson, and Christine Darden, four African-American women who lived through the Civil Rights era, the Space Race, the Cold War, and the movement for gender equality, and whose work forever changed the face of NASA and the country. 

The Color Purple - Alice Walker //  Taking place mostly in rural Georgia, the story focuses on the life of women of color in the southern United States in the 1930s, addressing numerous issues including their exceedingly low position in American social culture. The novel has been the frequent target of censors and appears on the American Library Association list of the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 2000-2009 at number seventeen because of the sometimes explicit content, particularly in terms of violence. 

Sister Citizen- Melissa Harris Perry //  Not a traditional political science work concerned with office-seeking, voting, or ideology, Sister Citizen instead explores how African American women understand themselves as citizens and what they expect from political organizing. Harris-Perry shows that the shared struggle to preserve an authentic self and secure recognition as a citizen links together black women in America, from the anonymous survivors of Hurricane Katrina to the former First Lady of the United States. 

The Blossoming Universe of Violet Diamond - Brenda Woods //  Violet is a smart, funny, brown-eyed, brown-haired girl in a family of blonds. Her mom is white, and her dad, who died before she was born, was black. She attends a mostly white school where she sometimes feels like a brown leaf on a pile of snow. She’s tired of people asking if she’s adopted. Now that Violet’s eleven, she decides it’s time to learn about her African American heritage. And despite getting off to a rocky start trying to reclaim her dad’s side of the family, she can feel her confidence growing as the puzzle pieces of her life finally start coming together. 

The Summer of Chasing Mermaids - Sarah Ockler //  The youngest of six talented sisters, Elyse d'Abreau was destined for stardom - until a boating accident took everything from her. Now, the most beautiful singer in Tobago can't sing. She can't even speak. Seeking quiet solitude, Elyse accepts a friend's invitation to Atargatis Cove. Named for the mythical first mermaid, the Oregon seaside town is everything Elyse's home in the Caribbean isn't: an ocean too cold for swimming, parties too tame for singing, and people too polite to pry - except for one.

Black Boy White School - Brian F Walker  //  Anthony “Ant” Jones has never been outside his rough East Cleveland neighborhood when he’s given a scholarship to Belton Academy, an elite prep school in Maine.But at Belton things are far from perfect. Everyone calls him “Tony,” assumes he’s from Brooklyn, expects him to play basketball, and yet acts shocked when he fights back. As Anthony tries to adapt to a world that will never fully accept him, he’s in for a rude awakening: Home is becoming a place where he no longer belongs.