From: Kirsten Kerkhof <kirstenkerkhof@gmail.com>
Date: Sun, 8 Aug 2010 13:28:13 +0200
Subject: 'The Farm', by Kirsten Kerkhof
Source: direct

TITLE: "The Farm"
AUTHOR: Kirsten Kerkhof * <kirstenkerkhof@gmail.com>
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, AU
KEYWORDS: S R A H
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Post-colonisation, AU
SUMMARY: We were told it wouldn't happen until 2012 -- but they 
lied ... They came a lot sooner, and we were nowhere near 
prepared for it. Nobody was. 
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. No copyright infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Sure. I'll do Gossamer myself, all others: you're 
welcome when you tell me where it's going, okay?
FEEDBACK: Cherished and worshipped at <kirstenkerkhof@gmail.com>
NOTE: It's probably set a few years back in time, about 2005 or thereabouts. Make them a little younger than they are now ...

XxXxX
"The Farm"
by Kirsten Kerkhof
XxXxX


A light covering of snow is gathering in the fields and 
around the haystack as I make my way back to the house. 
I look up, but it's a fairly calm sky which doesn't seem to 
predict heavy snowfall, and I'm reassured. It doesn't look 
as though we'll need to take extra precautions as far as the 
weather is concerned.
	
The animals are inside and I know she's already fed them. 
We've divided the tasks, helping each other when 
necessary: I take care of the fields and crops, the outside 
of the house, the maintenance of everyday equipment. She 
cares for the animals, the vegetable garden, the inside of 
the house. And of us. I'm pretty sure we'd never have 
made it if she wasn't so careful about us.
	
It can be a lonely life out here on the farm. There are a 
few farmsteads dotting the countryside around ours, but 
they've all been abandoned. We're truly alone. Well, for 
as long as it'll last. We're not naive enough to believe 
They won't come back for another sweep -- and I'm not 
sure we'll escape again. But no one knows when that will 
be, and if it'll be in our lifetime, and for now we're 
making a decent life for ourselves.
	
We were told it wouldn't happen until 2012 -- but they 
lied ... They came a lot sooner, and we were nowhere near 
prepared for it. Nobody was. We've seen it happen, the 
invasion, the panic, the ... carnage. As usual she was the 
sensible one, although by all means we should've done 
exactly the opposite of what we did. We should've 
fought. We should've stood our ground. We would've 
died like rats. Like so many millions of others ...
	
I see a chicken in the small paddock next to the barn and 
decide to pick her up. She must have escaped, all the hens 
and our rooster are penned up. Winter so far hasn't been 
too cold yet, but we have to be careful with our animals 
and we can't afford to lose any through negligence. I 
slowly approach her, then scoop the small animal up in my 
arms. She clucks a few times, but doesn't seem unduly 
upset. Good. I walk to the barn where the chickens and 
the pigs are housed and open the top of the Dutch door, 
letting the chicken in. Then I go back to the gate and pick 
up the tools I'd put down to get that chicken, and walk on 
home.

It's not a bad place to live, this farm, this land. I would 
never have chosen this life for us, but on the whole we're 
not doing too badly. We were never trained for a farmer's 
life, and we've made some very serious errors, but we 
survived last year's winter -- although I never knew 
hunger like that -- and I hope we're better prepared now.
	
A few weeks after we arrived here we checked out the 
other farms in the neighbourhood. They were all empty, 
with the exception of a few provisions and some semi-
starving animals, all of which we had no qualms about 
taking for ourselves. The people that had inhabited these 
houses must have fled when They arrived -- as did 

everyone else. There is very little chance they'll ever come 
back. 
	
Mankind has been decimated. Nobody knows how many 
people have died worldwide, there is hardly anything left. 
Governments have toppled, countries have ceased to exist. 
I'm pretty sure the coastal cities are all gone, and inland 
cities must have fared just as badly. DC was hit later than 
cities like New York or San Francisco, but I know the city 
is gone nonetheless. 
	
We ran before They hit, as did everyone else, but we took 
another route. We've always gone against the grain. We 
did it again: we ran towards Them. They arrived in the 
south-west -- God only knows where they came from -- 
and from there They spread like a virus, Their lethal 

tentacles spreading like oil across the land. The population 
fled as it was bound to do, heading for the east coast in 
numbers that must have resembled the Migration waves of 
the early Middle Ages. Only this time it wasn't the Huns 
that made the people run, but something much more 
sinister.
	
Everyone went east. We went west. There were days 
when I just knew we would never make it, but she was 
convinced it was the best route to take. I don't know how 
she knew, she wouldn't tell me, but I could see in her eyes 
that she had a plan. And seeing that I had nothing of the 
kind, I wasted no time and went with her.
	
We lost the car with all our belongings to looters 
somewhere in Texas, spent three terrifying days hiding in 
a cave system in Colorado, stole a cart and horse in God-
knows-where, and finally, heading north after a while, 
came across these farms. We hadn't seen Them for a week 
at least, but we were penniless, desperate, and on the 
point of starvation, not having eaten for close to two 
weeks, except for the odd fruit we'd found along the 
way. The stores in the ghost-towns we passed through 
were empty, though from looting or otherwise I don't 
know, and we didn't know what other foods we could 
eat. True city-folk we were, completely unprepared for a 
life of fending for ourselves.
	
Then we came across this farm and its rich green fields 
and we just knew: whatever it was the future held for us, 
we had come home. We have no idea what state this is, 
and we don't care.
	
I push the back door open and walk into the outbuilding 
behind the kitchen. I kick off the clogs I was wearing -- 
we found those in a neighbouring farm -- and on socked 
feet I walk into the large farm kitchen. I'm wearing three 
pairs of socks and I still can't feel my toes anymore. The 
stove is roaring, spreading a balmy heat throughout the 
large room and I smile when I smell what's cooking. It's 
Christmas Eve and she's roasting a goose for our 
Christmas dinner. We keep a few geese for the eggs and 
the meat, and one of them must've paid the price. I can't 
wait.
	
Just then she walks into the kitchen and my smile grows 
even bigger. She's wearing a flowery dress and shoes. 
Nothing fancy; in fact, it's homely and rather plain, but 
I've become so used to seeing her in overalls and clogs, 
that it's nice to see her dressed so feminine again. Her hair 
is long and looks freshly washed.
	
"Did you manage to fix the fence?" she asks, walking up 
to me and wrapping her arms around my waist.
	
"Yep. It wasn't too bad, just a couple of beams come 
loose. I've nailed them in place. Should last for another 
year or so, but I'm going to check on them in Spring 
before we let the animals out into that field to see how 
they survived the winter."
	
She nods. "Anything else?"
	
I smile. "Just a chicken running loose in the paddock, but 
she's back inside."
	
She sighs. "That little brown one?" I nod and she smiles, 
shaking her head. "She's a regular Houdini. Nothing can 
keep her indoors, it's ridiculous."
	
"Knowing our luck she'll turn out to be the best layer of 
the bunch, give us a few weeks of tremendous output and 
then get eaten by a fox or something."
	
She chuckles. "I have no doubt. Anyway, if you want to 
wash and change before we eat, you have plenty of time. 
That goose needs at least another hour or so before it's 
ready. You want me to heat up some water?"
	
I smile. "Yes, please, can you do a kettle?"
	
She reaches up and kisses me. "No problem, I won't need 
the stove for the next half hour anyway."
	
I run my hands through her soft wavy hair and smile at 
her. "Thank you. I'll go and pick up the tub. Can I wash 
here? It must be freezing cold in the rest of the house."
	
She smiles widely. "If you're going to get naked here, it's 
probably a good idea I won't need to be in the kitchen for 
another hour or so."

I bend down and kiss her some more. "Or it would be one 
heck of a way to kill the time until that goose is done ..."
	
She chuckles. "Go upstairs and get your clean clothes and 
a towel, Mulder, and I'll put the kettle on."
	
I should be careful about the clothes she's wearing, she's 
probably proud of them. On the other hand: the night is 
young, the room is warm, and I'm going to be naked ...

XxXxX

"Did you know that in ancient times it was customary for 
women to give the men a bath?"
	
I'm sitting in the big tin tub -- in summer we use it as a 
drinking trough for the animals and we bathe in the fish 
pond -- and she's on a low stool next to the tub. I sincerely 
tried to coax her into joining me, but that blasted goose 
needs basting so she had to refuse. She picks up the wash 
cloth, and starts washing my back where I can barely 
reach.
	
"Really?"
	
I nod. "Mm-mm, I read it somewhere."
	
"Do I really want to know where?"
	
I chuckle. "Probably not. Do you have some more hot 
water in the kettle?"
	
She shakes her head. "No, I used it up for this go. Want 
me to boil some more?"
	
I reach up and give myself a good stretch. "Nah, don't 
worry about it. It's about time I got out anyway."
	
She reaches out and hands me the towel. "I should mend 
that towel, it's starting to fray."
	
I stand up and wrap the towel around me. "It'll last for a 
while longer."
	
"It will, but the sooner I fix it, the less I'll have to fix."
	
Ever the logical one, she is, I think with a smile as I 
vigorously towel myself dry. The kitchen may be warm, 
but central heating it is not and there is a nasty draught. I 
can't wait to get back into some clothes. Last winter we 
wore more clothes at night than I ever did before the 
Invasion. We found new ways to be intimate, even if it 
meant no skin contact except for hands and faces. Then 
again, by the end of winter we'd come so close to 
starving, we needed all our energy simply to stay alive. 
Sex might just have literally killed us off ...
	
I've decided to wear some fancy clothes as well, and the 
nearest I can tell they're not even torn or much worn. In a 
neighbouring farm we found some men's clothes which 
the former inhabitants must have left behind, for whatever 
reason. Maybe they couldn't take them with them, maybe 
they forgot them. Maybe they simply didn't like them 
enough. Well, whatever the reason was, I was more than 
happy to take them. It's a pair of khaki trousers, a plaid 
shirt and the shoes I was wearing when we first got here.
	
"Dressing up, handsome?" she says as I button up the shirt 
and I look at her, grinning.
	
"If you're all dolled up, then so should I," I reply.
	
She smiles, looking me up and down. There is something 
sad in her eyes, even though she's smiling. "We've 
changed so much," she says softly.
	
With the top three buttons still unbuttoned, I reach out, 
cupping her face in my hand, making her look at me. "Are 
you sorry?" I ask very softly.

She smiles again, shaking her head a little. "No, not at all. 
I realise every day how we're the luckiest couple in the 
world and I'm never sorry for that." I raise my eyebrows 
and she clarifies. "We have love, not to mention that we 
are still alive. That last thing alone makes us very much an 
exception already. But love, Mulder -- who can boast such 
a precious commodity nowadays ...?"
	
I swear I can hear my heart breaking. She's right. I close 
my shirt, leaving the top button undone and then I draw 
her in. "I love it when you are right."
	
I feel her chuckle. "Only you can give answers like that 
and make them sound like the sweetest of compliments, 
can't you?"
	
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment then, too."
	
She presses a soft kiss on my lips, then pulls away. "I 
should get back to the goose, and put the potatoes and 
turnips on. Can you set the table?"
	
"Sure. Is the fire still going in the living room?"
	
"Should be. I put on plenty of logs before you came in, 
although you may want to put more wood on."
	
"We should be careful with our firewood ..."
	
She shakes her head. "Normally, yes, but not tonight. It's 
Christmas Eve. Tonight I want to enjoy life. We can think 
of it as the Yule Log."
	
I chuckle. "All right."

XxXxX

Day before yesterday we spent all day decorating a small 
spruce that is our Christmas tree. Maybe that's why 
Christmas is in winter -- it's about the only time in the year 
we can afford to have a day off for something as trivial as 
decorating a tree. We decided we could spare a cob of 
corn from the larder and made popcorn. She treaded the 
popped kernels onto lengths of string while I went in 
search of candles. We have candles, just not very many of 
them, and, because we have no way of replacing them, we 
save them for special occasions. Special occasions like 
Christmas. Then we put the strings of popcorn in the tree, 
added some pine cones which I'd dipped in chalk to 
whiten them, and added a cloth star to the top of the tree. 
It's standing next to the fireplace and we're on the sofa, 
facing the fire, our main source of heat.
	
Picture perfect.
	
I have no idea what time it is right now. I lost my watch 
along with just about everything else on our trek up here 
and hers ran out of batteries a few months ago. There is no 
clock in this house. We could check out the other farms 
for clocks, but chances are they're not working anymore. 
And to be honest, it's not really necessary to us. For time 

keeping we use the sun dial in the garden and hourglasses, 
and we're doing fine by those. We're living as much in the 
18th century as in the 21st ...
	
"I liked the turnips," I say, "they weren't bitter like I 
remembered them."
	
"I put a potato in with the turnips as I boiled them. I read 
in Mary-Ellen's cookbook that adding a potato to the 
turnips takes away the bitterness."
	
"I never would've thought of that."
	
She smiles. "Nor would I. But that's been the story of our 
lives for the past year and a half, hasn't it?"
	
I just smile. True ...
	
"Anyway, I saved the goose fat. It makes fantastic 
cooking fat."
	
"Can you make French fries?" Years ago I read 
somewhere that the best tasting fries are made with goose 
fat and the slob in me hasn't forgotten that titbit of 
information.
	
"Mm, can we afford to use so much fat? Spring is still so 
far away."

I sigh. "Yeah, you're right. We must be economical with 
our fat. God knows we may need it again."
	
She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. But I never want to be 
that hungry again ..."
	
I pull her a little closer. "Nor me. I wasn't thinking, I'm 
sorry. You're right, making fries is irresponsible."
	
She looks up and smiles. "That's all right. We need a little 
irresponsible dreaming now and then to make the truth 
more palatable."
	
I chuckle. Then we fall silent for a while. The fire is 
crackling loudly in the large fireplace, three candles are on 
a stool near the Christmas tree, and we hear a soft wind 
going around the house. One of our sheep is bleating a 
few times and a few other sheep answer, but it doesn't 
sound serious. On the whole it's pretty calm around here.
	

I wanted to say peaceful, but I'm not that stupid ...
	
"It's our second Christmas here," she says and I nod.
	
"It's the start of a new life, a new year," I add.
	

"I don't even know where They are now," she continues, 

her voice soft.
	
I shake my head. "They could be anywhere."
	
"Shit ..." I look at her and see her frown. "I hate this 
insecurity!"
	
I smile a little. "Scully, we can't help it. And we shouldn't 
even be thinking about it. If They come, we'll stand no 
chance. We will be killed. But that may still be so many 
years into the future. It may not even happen in our 
lifetime. We must make plans, we must live for what's yet 
to come, or we won't fare any better than all those people 
who perished."
	
"It's up to us?"
	
I shrug easily. "Who knows? Makes us sound rather 
important, doesn't it?"
	
She laughs. "Terrifyingly so." Then she gets up from the 
sofa. "Anyway, seeing that it is Christmas: I have a gift 
for you."
	
I feel a wide smile break out on my face. "Really?"
	
She nods with a smile. "Really. I just need to get it. Can 
you get us some more tea in the meantime?"
	
We dried herbs and fruit for tea this autumn and I must 
say I've become quite fond of the drink. Of course, since 
we ran out of coffee in the first few weeks, we needed 
something else to replace our daily shot of comfort. I walk 
into the kitchen and bring the water in the kettle back to 
boiling. Then I walk on into the outhouse and pick up my 
gift for her. It's simple, it's hand-made, but I'm pretty 
proud of it. I just hope she'll like it because I'm planning 
on building my future on it.
	
With the steaming teapot and two mugs in my hands and 
my gift under my arm, I return to the living room. She's 
already on the sofa, two parcels wrapped in tea towels on 
her lap. I wrapped my gift in some old burlap cloth I 
found in the stable. We're truly the king and queen of 
fancy wrapping ...
	
She must have sensed my thoughts because she looks at 
her gifts and then at mine, and gives me a wry smile. "I 
see Tiffany's didn't offer free gift wrapping this year 
either ..." she says, making me laugh.
	
"So, who goes first?"
	
She looks down at her gifts and pauses for a moment. "I 
think we're forgetting something."
	
I frown. "We are?"
	
She sets her gifts down on the table, and gently takes my 
gift to join hers. Then she turns towards me and takes my 

hands in hers. "I think we should first offer some thoughts 
of gratitude to where they're due. We have not had an 
easy year, but we survived and we're still together, and 
we shouldn't take that too lightly, I think ..."
	
I nod. Boy, is she ever right. "Of course." I raise her 
hands to my lips and press a soft kiss on her fingers. "You 
want to pray?"
	
She smiles a little. "I do, but you can do whatever you 
like." She knows I don't pray. After all we've been 
through I still haven't found my way to God, and to be 
totally honest I don't think I'll ever do, but I truly respect 
her beliefs and perhaps some of it will eventually seep 
through and find its way to me. If I even deserve that, of 
course.
	
For a moment I expect her to let go of my hands, but 
instead she pulls me towards her. Then she wraps her arms 
around me and hugs me close. It might have been 
arousing, if I didn't suddenly feel so touched and 
emotionally connected to her that I'm on the verge of 
tears. I like this way of praying, Scully ...
	
We're sitting like this for a long time and I can hear her 
whispering, although I can't make out the words. It's not 
important. As for me, I try to include a few thoughts for 
the world, for everyone who suffered -- but I can't. I'm so 
selfish ... I only think of her and of me. I put in a few 
thoughts for our animals, too. I've grown quite attached 
to them, not in the least because they are so vital to our 
survival. The first time I had to slaughter one of our pigs I 
could barely do it, although we've grown less sensitive 
about it now. But we do love our animals.
	
But mostly I think of her, and maybe I do pray, in my 
own insignificant way. I don't care, I just want her to be 
safe.
	
After a while we're down to just cuddling. She no longer 
smells of shampoo and perfume, like she did before the 
Invasion. Her smell is different now, far more earthy, far 
more natural. I no longer smell of aftershave or cologne, 
either, like I used to. I smell of grass, and mucked-out 
stables, and sweat. She smells of hard soap and animals. 
She smells of fertile soil. And I don't give a damn about 
that bullshit about women not sweating: I've seen her 
sweating like a horse. There were times the mere sight of it 
made us end up copulating like a couple of crazed rabbits. 
We're silly that way.
	
We slowly let go of our close embrace, replacing it with a 
much gentler cuddle, side by side on the sofa.
	

"Merry Christmas, Mulder," she whispers and I smile, 
leaning in to press a kiss in her hair.
	
"Merry Christmas, Scully," I reply. "So, can I have my 
presents now?"
	
She laughs. "Yes, little boy, you can have your presents!"
	
I laugh with her. "Little boy, eh? I don't recall hearing 
those words last night ..."
	
Her ears turn a lovely shade of pink and she grins. God, I 
love being able to banter with her. She reaches over and 
picks up the larger of the two presents.
	
"Oh, okay. Here you are, stud."
	
"Ooo, 'stud'. I like the sound of that!" I say in a low 
voice, making no effort to hide the underlying message.
	
"Just open the damn gift, Mulder, or we won't even make 
it to opening all three of them before the night is over!"
	
I shrug easily. "I wouldn't mind."
	
She chuckles. "No, I know that." She turns a little so she 
leans into my side, her feet on the sofa. With her head on 
my shoulder she watches me open her gift.
	
She's the queen of knots, I think, as I try to unpick the 
string that keeps the tea towel in place. Hard labour has 
made my hands rough and my finger tips calloused. Good 
for ploughing fields, useless for undoing string.
	
In the end, however, I manage to get a couple of knots 
undone and I slide the string away and open the tea 
towel.
	
"You made me a sweater?"
	
She nods, her eyes a little insecure. "Yes. Last year you 
complained about how incredibly cold it was outside, so I 
thought I try out my old knitting skills." I pick up the 
navy garment and hold it up. "I know it's not much, but 

it's been over 30 years since I last tried my hand at 
knitting, so ..."
	
To be honest this sweater would never win a prize. It's 
rather shapeless, and the neck, cuffs, and waist look a 
little odd. And at first glance it's at least two sizes too 
big.
	
On the other hand, it looks toasty warm and she made it 
herself. This sweater will be worn a lot.
	
"Are you kidding? This is fantastic, I love it!" I lean in 
and kiss her soundly on the lips. "Thank you."

She grins widely. "Really? I made it too big because I 
figured you could wear some clothes under it for extra 
warmth."
	
"When did you knit it? I've never seen you knitting."
	
She smiles. "I did it while you were outside tending to the 
fields and stuff. I started in July, because I wanted it to 
remain a surprise so I had to hide it whenever you came 
in."
	
I grin. "You sneaky little devil! Where did you get the 
wool by the way?"
	
"I unravelled some of the old sweaters we found on our 
trips. And I found knitting needles in the attic."
	
"Thank you." I carefully fold the sweater and put it on the 
table. "Can I give you my gift now?"
	
She grins, sitting up. She looks eager like a little kid. "Yes, 
please!"
	
I reach over and pick up the small present. "Merry 
Christmas, sweetheart."
	

She smiles, her eyes soft at the term of endearment. We 
don't use them often, because we don't feel the need for 
them, so it's extra special when we do. Like now.
	

I didn't use string, I just rolled it in the cloth, so she has a 
much easier task when it comes to unwrapping. "Is it 
fragile?"
	
I shake my head. "Nope."
	
"Okay." And she holds the cloth up with her right hand, 
letting gravity do its job. A few wooden spoons drop into 
her left hand.
	
"Spoons?"
	
I nod. "You can never have enough of those."
	
She grins. "Are you telling me you want to be fed more?"
	
I lean in and kiss her, deeply and slowly. When our lips 
part I look in her eyes. "I couldn't ask for a better cook 
than you," I say in a low voice. Her eyes are dark and 
intense, and her face is flushed. "But you can feed me 
anytime ..."
	
"Keep that up and you'll never find out what's in that 
second parcel."
	
I press another soft, lingering kiss on her lips, but pull 
away just before she can deepen it. "Well, we can't have 
that, can we?"
	
"We'll discuss this later."
	
"Discuss?"
	
"Well, it's just a euphemism."
	
I grin. "And thank God for that."
	
She takes the spoons and picks out one of them. They're 
all just plain wooden spoons, except for that one. "What's 
up with this spoon?"
	
"It's a love spoon."
	
She gives me an intense look. "A love spoon?"
	
"Yeah. Although I guess I'm a bit old for one of those, 
but ..."
	
"I don't get it."
	
I shrug, also to mask my nervousness. "Well, I couldn't 
find a ring, so ..."
	
"A ring?" Her voice is nothing more than a whisper.
	
I nod. "Yes. I know a ring is more customary but in the 
absence of such jewellery, I thought I revert back to more 
ancient symbols. Like the love spoon." 
	
She just looks at me, her expression a mesmerising mixture 
of love, excitement, fear, astonishment, and a good dollop 
of something I've never seen there before. I realise she 
won't say a thing until I have finished.
	
I take her hands in mine. Clich?, but the only thing I can 
think of now. "Will you marry me?"
	
Her eyes open wide. "Are ... are you serious?"
	
I nod. "I am. Dana, there is not a person I could do this 
with but you. I wouldn't even want to try." I duck my 
head. "I've always loved you, but there was a day this 
summer, when you were working in the garden, I ... I 
spent some time just looking at you ..." I take a deep 
breath. "I just knew then that, apart from my loving you, I 
knew you were the only person I ever truly liked, you 
know ..." I look back up at her and I see a tear running 
down her cheek, but she's smiling the sweetest smile 
possible. "I just ... felt it ..."
	
"So you thought ..."
	
I smile a bit. "Well, I didn't just *think*. I *knew*. I 
know we'll be together for as long as fate allows us to, but 
..." I shrug a little. "... maybe I'm just old-fashioned ..."
	
I hear her chuckle and it makes me smile as well. "I never 
knew you were so romantic."
	
I smile a little more. "Well, that's as good as may be, but 
you haven't answered me yet: will you marry me?"
	
She nods. "Of course I'll marry you." Then she frowns. 
"But how are we going to do that?"
	
"Do what?"
	
"Get married, I mean. There are no churches or 
courthouses left. Everything's gone."
	
"We don't need those."
	
Her frown deepens. "We don't? Mulder, how are we ..."
	
"They're just trappings. I figured ... I mean, I've been 
thinking about this quite a bit, you know ... And as far as I 
see it, a marriage is really about two people, making a 
solemn promise to one another. The rest is merely 
decoration and a way to blow a heck of a load of money."
	
She smiles. "I never thought of it like that."
	
"That's because we're not raised to think of it like that. 
Especially not girls."
	
She raises an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
	
I smile. "Believe me, Sam had her whole wedding 
planned by the time she was seven, although I have a 
feeling that at that age she would've been sorely 
disappointed if there wasn't a fairytale castle at the end. 
As for me, I'd just left the 'Ewww, girls are gross!' phase 
at that point -- I mean, I was only eleven -- and started 
thinking that girls might actually be good for something, 
although I still hadn't the foggiest idea what that 
something could possibly be."
	
She grins widely. "That is so cute!
	
I duck my head. "Of course, things sort of went downhill 
from there, but I did figure out what girls were for, so I 
guess I got some of it right."
	
She very gently pulls me towards her and presses a soft 
kiss on my forehead. For years that was the most intimate 
touch we had, and it's still a very special gesture between 
us. Then she rests her forehead against mine and we just 
sit.
	
"Trust me, there is a lot you got right."
	
With our foreheads still touching, I hear her speak. "I still 
have a gift for you."
	
"I'm having all I could ever wish for," I say and I hear her 
gentle chuckle.
	
"Well, that's very sweet and all that, but what would you 
say if I told you I made you a spoon too?"
	
I grin at her gentle joke, grateful she's lifting the heavy 
atmosphere. "Of course, that would change everything!" 
With that we sit back and smile at each other.
	
"By the way, did you carve these spoons yourself?"
	
I nod. "Yeah, I figured it was a good way to learn how to 
use a knife, seeing that I was never trained in lethal knife 
skills like you were." I wink at her and pick up a spoon. 
"This was the first one. Well, the first one that didn't 
break, although I'm not giving out extended warranties on 
it. Then I made those three, and I spent the last two 
months carving the love spoon."
	
"Where did you keep them?"
	
"I had them in my pocket. Whenever I was taking a break 
from harvesting or some other job, I would take out the 
spoon -- or rather the piece of wood -- and do some more 
carving. Do you like them?"
	
My parents had love spoons in the house as decorations 
and they were beautifully intricate. Mine is not nearly 
that. I think my love spoon is on par with her sweater: it'll 

do the job, and was made with more heart than skill. And 
she, too, doesn't seem to mind a bit.
	
"I love them, especially the love spoon, because you made 
them for me."
	
See, there you go! How's that for sappy ...
	
She reaches out and picks up the smaller present and 
hands it to me. It's soft and weighs next to nothing.
	
"It's not a spoon," I quip and she smiles.
	
"It's not a spoon," she confirms. "Open it."
	
With this gift I don't need to untie the string because I 
can bend it so the string slides off. I pretend I don't hear 
her "You're cheating!" and open the tea towel. Inside is 
something small made out of flannel or some fabric like 
that.
	
"Actually, I don't think I'll fit in th-" I whip my head 
round to look at her. "Scully?"
	
She smiles and gives a little shrug. "Maybe it's a good 
thing you just proposed to me, 'cause someone will need 
to make an honest woman out of me ..."
	
I must've been gaping, but now I swear this grin can't get 
any larger or my face will split in half. "Are you serious?"
	
She nods. "I missed my period about three months ago, 
but didn't think much of it. I mean, I hadn't had my 
period either for those months last winter when we were 
so hungry. Then I missed it again a month and a half ago, 
and I was getting a little suspicious. After all, I was in 
pretty good physical condition, there was no reason for it 
to stay away. And it didn't come two weeks ago either." 
She takes a deep breath. "Add to that some mild morning 
sickness and a few changes to my body, which I was 
kinda hoping you'd pick up on, and I think we can fairly 
safely predict you're going to be a father again in, let's 
say, May or June."
	
I gather her up in my arms and hug her hard. Oh my God, 
this goes deep ... I can feel my emotions right down to the 
core.
	
"Why didn't you just tell me?"
	
She snickers. "And miss out on an expression like the one 
you just gave me? I'm taking that one to my grave!"

I grin. "I'm glad I could amuse you."
	
"So, seeing that things have changed a little: when were 
you thinking of marrying me?"
	
"Well, we could do it now, or whenever you feel like it."
	
"Do you think Christmas is the right time?"
	
"It's a celebration of how the days are beginning to 
lengthen again. But that's kind of a pagan interpretation 
and if you're not comfortable with that, which I can 
imagine, we can just wait a little more."
	
She's silent for a bit. "No, this is as good a time as any. I 
don't think we can afford to put things off or live in the 
future --"
	
"We made a baby, I don't think there is a more concrete 
way of living in the future," I interrupt her, smiling.
	
"Don't be such a smart-ass," she admonishes gently, 
making me chuckle. "Anyway, apart from this baby, I 
want to do things now.  Well, tomorrow, that is, it's 
getting a little late."
	
I grin and kiss her. "All right. We'll get married 
tomorrow." She smiles a warm smile and I reply in kind. 
Then I wiggle my eyebrows. "You know, the night is still 
young ..."
	
"Is it now?"
	
I nod with a grin. "Yeah, and I'm feeling like I'm letting 
you down a little in the gift department."
	
"You don't need-"
	
I interrupt her with a hot kiss. "I know," I say when I 
break the contact.
	
"That second gift-"
	
"Wasn't even for me," I interrupt her again and she rolls 
her eyes, but she's smiling. "I know." I gently push her 
down onto the sofa.
	
"Oh, I get it," she says with a twinkle. "You want to make 
that baby some more?"
	
I can't resist, I know I'm a pig, but I just can't. "Well, 
seeing that you're offering ..."

She grins as she starts to unbutton my shirt. "Oh, all right 
then," she sighs, pretending she's just doing me a favour, 
but her eagerness shows in the trembling of her fingers. I 
undo the zipper down the back of her dress and pull the 
top down over her shoulders, revealing the little camisole 
she's wearing underneath. She hasn't completely gained 
back the weight she lost last year and for a moment I'm 
worried. Will she be strong enough to carry the baby to 
term? We can only hope we have enough provisions this 
winter ...
	
"I'm still skinny, aren't I?" she says softly. "I should've 
put on some weight over summer, but I just can't keep it 
on."
	
I bend down to kiss her, pausing momentarily from the 
pleasant job of undressing her. "We can only do our best 
and hope winter won't be too harsh."
	
She nods. "Yeah ..." Then she stretches like a kitten, 
arching her back and immediately I'm drawn back to the 
task at hand. What man has time to think about winter 
provisions when he has the woman of his dreams willing 
and ready under his hands? I'm a twit.

XxXxXxX

God, this room is cold, I think when I wake up. I don't 
think it's snowing anymore, but it's still the end of 
December and the temperature must be way below 
freezing. I'd be surprised if there wasn't an icicle hanging 
from the tip of my nose. 
	
That's it, I'm never getting up again.
	
"Morning," she whispers and I snuggle a little closer. 
She's small and warm and so soft. Like I said, I'm never 
getting out of this bed.
	
"Morning," I reply, prying an eye open. "Can we stay in 
bed today?"
	
She chuckles. "Wish we could, this feels really good." She 
wraps her arms and her legs around me and we cuddle 
some more. "Merry Christmas, by the way. Think we 
could make love some more or don't we have time?"
	
I sigh. "The animals need us to feed and clean up after 
them. And I want to check the barn to see if our supplies 
are still dry. I think the wheat needs to be turned, so I'll 
do that."
	
She chuckles. "And we thought we were busy when we 
were still in the Bureau ..."
	
I smile a little ruefully. She's right, though. If we ever 
complained about not having enough time to ourselves 
before the Invasion -- although personally I never really 
cared -- it had nothing on how busy we are now. If we've 
taken two days off last year I should be surprised, and 
even then it was more like a few hours at a stretch than 
complete days. We have too many lives depending on us.
	
I pull her closer and we just kiss and hug for a little while.

	
Then I brace myself and get out of bed.
	
Goddamn, this house is cold ... I quickly throw on the 
nearest clothes I can find and step into the house slippers I 
keep by the bed to keep my feet off the freezing floor. 
Then I turn around and see how she's curled up in a big 
ball of all the sheets and blankets on the bed. How's that 
for a little cover-hog ...
	

"Go check on the animals, Mulder. I'll see you tonight," 
she says from under her toasty igloo. I grin and start 
pulling away her covers. She shrieks playfully, making me 
laugh even more. God, and here we thought we were 

getting old! How are we ever going to be an example to 

our son or daughter? We're as playful and childish as any 
5-year-old.
	
"Oh no, you don't!" I grin, but I let her have the last 
blanket. We sleep naked whenever possible and the house 
is too cold to pull away all of her shelter. I take her 
bathrobe and toss it to her. "Come, put that on, and you 
can stay in bed for a bit. I'll get the kitchen stove on to 
heat up the kitchen."
	
"Nah, that's my job, and it's time to get up anyway. If 
you can feed the animals today, I'll get the fire going in 
the living room and the kitchen, and I'll see you in half an 
hour or so for breakfast."
	
"It's a deal," I smile and make my way downstairs. Duty 
calls, Christmas Day or not.

XxXxX

"Don't tell me that's --"
	
"Yup, I have coffee," she smiles. "I wish you could've 
seen your own face when you came in."
	
I think I've just died and gone to heaven. "Where did you 
get that from?" I can't believe it. Oh my God, I never 
knew coffee smelled this good!
	
"I saved a bit for a special day. Which I suppose today 
is," she says. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her. 
"How was the wheat?"
	
Screw that, I get to have coffee! But I'm pretty sure I 
can't say that. "Looking good. I don't think the rainfall 
we had last week was heavy enough to cause damage. But 
I've given it a stir anyway. Oh, and I moved the chickens 
and the pigs to the other pen. Their pen was freezing 
cold."
	
"That's true, their pen faces directly into the wind."
	
"Mm-mm. If we keep their pen empty for now, it can 
function as a kind of insulation. Plus, I think the 
combined body heat from the animals will keep them from 
getting too cold. Although we'll need to do more mucking 
out now, seeing that they're all together now."
	
She shrugs. "I'd rather do that than lose animals to the 
cold."
	
"So," I go on, moving behind her, but keeping my arms 
loosely around her waist. "How's breakfast coming 
along?"
	
"You hungry?"
	
"Starving."
	
She gives me a stare.
	
"Sorry," I apologise. After last winter, that's not a joke 
anymore.
	
"Anyway, it's almost ready, I just need to fry the eggs."
	
"The coffee smells ready," I say, adding nothing useful. 
She chuckles.
	
"It does, doesn't it?" She gently pulls out of my embrace 
and hands me the table cloth. "If you can set the table, I'll 
take care of the eggs, and we'll eat."
	
I set down the plates and cutlery for our breakfast on the 
kitchen table. Then I light a candle. Because it's Christmas 
Day, yup. She picked some holly a few days ago and I 
arrange it around the candle, adding a little Holiday 
decoration to our sober kitchen.
	
Meanwhile she's frying the eggs, hopefully in extra fat, 
and that coffee smells more than ready. God, I'm hyper 
already and I haven't even had that caffeine yet! Must be 
the anticipation.
	
"I know you used to use sugar in your coffee, but of 
course we don't have that. You could try some honey if 
you like," she says, putting down a large pot of steaming 
coffee on the table. I see a little fabric bag floating on top, 
which I guess is what she put the coffee in and used as a 
filter.
	
"Think it's ready to drink?" I ask. I sound so eager it 
makes her smile. "It sure smells ready."
	
"I thought I'd weaned you off your coffee."
	
I grin. "Nah, addictions are forever."
	
She pours the black liquid into my cup and I smile, happy. 
This, I tell you, is perfect. She pours herself a cup, too, 
and together we sip the scalding drink.

	
Oh. 
	
My. 
	
God.
	
...
	
Coffee ...
	
"I don't remember it tasting so good," she says and I 
smile, nodding.
	
"Me neither. How much do we have left?"
	
"Well, there's enough in the pot for another cup, but 
we've hardly any coffee left to make. Perhaps I could 

make one more pot of coffee, but that would definitely be 
it then. I think I'll put it away again for another special 
occasion."
	
I nod. I drain my cup and smile. Merry Christmas indeed! 
Speaking of which ... I get up from my chair and walk 
over to her. I reach out my hand and she lets herself be 
pulled up from her chair. It's only the smallest of 
movements now to gather her to me.
	
"I haven't even wished you a Merry Christmas properly," 
I say in a low voice.
	
"You haven't? You sure could've fooled me with that 
orgasm this morning," she quips, making me smile.
	
"I think that was technically still yesterday."
	
"Yeah, whatever."
	
I smile before I lean in to kiss her. Long. Deep. Wet. Like 
the lovers we are. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a kiss 
between a long-standing couple, make no mistake about it. 
We only came together physically a few years ago, but 
we've been lovers psychologically almost from the day we 
met. That makes a huge difference. People may scoff at 
the idea of soul mates -- but only those who never met 
theirs do so. We know differently.
	
"You know ..."
	
I smile a little. "What?"
	
She takes a deep breath. "You proposed yesterday."
	
My smile grows. "Yes, I did." Then I feel the smile fade. 
"You're not having second thoughts, are you?"
	
"Oh no! I was just wondering when and where you were 
planning on marrying me, seeing that you had this idea we 
could do it by ourselves. I still don't see how you're going 
to do that."
	
The smile is back, mostly because I'm reassured now. 
Damn this sense of doubt and insecurity in me! When it 
comes to her I should know so much better by now. 
"Well, I was thinking that we could perhaps do it in the 
living room where it's warm."
	
"Oh ..."
	
I sense a kind of disappointment. "But perhaps you had 
another place in mind?"
	
"Well ... what about the old oak in the wheat field? I 
know it's lost its leaves for winter, but it's still a 
magnificent tree. And, well, oaks do have some 
significance and ..."
	
"You're not worried by the pagan symbolism here?"
	
She shrugs. "Whatever happens we've already come so 
much closer to a nature-based belief system than we could 
ever have imagined. It was inevitable, now that we're so 
incredibly dependent on what Nature is prepared to give 
us. Believe me, contrary to just about everything I was 
raised to believe in, I have talked to the animals and I 
have talked to the plants as though they're imbued with a 
kind of spirit whose existence I never once contemplated 
before we got here. I'm not giving up my Faith, but there 
is a lot more to this than I ever thought." She lets out a 
deep breath. "I think we should honour the old man down 
in the field."
	
"The old man, huh?"
	
She nods. Then, with a smile, she puts her head against 
my chest, her head snugly under my chin. "Come, let's get 
covered up," she says and I hear the smile in her voice, 
"and let's get hitched."

XxXxX

We're having a pretty fine Christmas this year. Clear blue 
sky, bright winter sun, and a light dusting of snow 
covering the earth. Enough to make it pretty, not enough 
to disrupt our daily routine. It's freezing, but only just.
	
We're walking towards the old oak tree behind our house. 
It's a impressive tree, even without its leaves. I'm 
guessing it's a good 200 years old at least, and judging by 
the abundant foliage it sported this summer, it has at least 
another 200 left in it. As make-shift churches go, this is 
not a bad one at all.
	
I smile when we get to the tree and quickly glance at its 
branches. Each branch, small or big, is covered in a thin 
layer of snow. It's pretty magical.
	
"So," I say.
	
She smiles. "So," she repeats. We're a bit unsure as to how 
we should continue.
	
Her nose and cheeks are pink with the cold. "Are you 
okay?" I ask.
	
"A little cold, that's all."
	
I put my arms around her and pull her to me. "Let's warm 
up first then."
	
We stand like this for a little while, our combined body 
heat driving away the chill. Our clothes aren't very warm 
by themselves so we're wearing lots of layers, but even 
then it's not exactly toasty.
	
"Are we just going to stand here?"
	
"Well, I suppose one of us has to start ..."
	
"It was your idea," she says. "You start."
	
"A vow, eh?"
	
She shrugs a little. "Well, something like that, I guess. I 
think you said it was about two people making promises 
to one another, but quite frankly, you don't need to 
promise me much, because I already know you're not 
going anywhere without me."
	
"That sounds like a vow to me already," I smile and I hear 
and feel her chuckle.
	
"Do your stuff, Mulder. Give me a reason to say 'I do'."
	
"All right."
	
We stand in our embrace for a bit longer and I think. How 
am I going to put this into words? It's not like I wrote 
anything or have given it much thought. Perhaps I should 
have.
	
"I'm going to improvise here, because, well ..."
	
"Improvise?"
	
I nod. "Scully, I know I'm not exactly known for being 
concise, in fact, I think I should learn to shut up once in a 
while, but ..."
	
She chuckles, which is what I was aiming for anyway. I 
smile.
	
"... but, there isn't such a lot to say now, you know, apart 
from that I ..." I take a deep breath. " ... I can promise 
you, and I do promise you that I will be with you, stand 
by you, protect you, us, from whatever bad the future 
holds for us." I loosen the embrace so I can look in her 
eyes. The warm soft look takes my breath away. I know 
she's soaking this up and I know she believes me. "I can't 
promise we'll be safe, but you know I'd lay down my life 
for you, don't you?" She nods. I close my eyes and lean 
my forehead against hers. "I love you, Dana," I whisper, 
voicing whatever thoughts pop up in my head. It seems 
that's the most honest thing to do. "I want to spend the 
rest of my life with you. When we make love, I feel as 
though I'm part of you, as though you're a part of me, and 
I -- there is not a better feeling in the world." I'm silent for 
a moment, feeling her hands on my face. "I want to marry 
you because it's another step closer to being with you. I'd 
do whatever it takes, because ..." I sigh. "God, this is 
selfish, but ... Dana, I need you! I need you with me, and 
I want to be with you. In good times and bad, sickness 
and health and all that -- I need you ..." My voice, soft 
already, drops to a whisper and I lift my head a little so I 
can look her in the eyes again. I'm close to begging here. 
Not because I'm afraid she'd refuse me, but simply 
because I can't tell her how much I need her in my life. 
"You've been the centre of my life for more than twelve 
years, even though I haven't always shown you that and I 
know that. And I'm not sure you couldn't have had a lot 
better than me, but ... I really appreciate your not giving 
up on me, you know ..."
	
She chuckles softly and I smile widely.
	
"Will you accept me as your husband, to be by your side, 
forever?"
	
"Forever?" she whispers.

"Well, I know it's customary to include that 'till death do 
us part' crap, but I'm not letting a silly thing like death 
come between us," I say, and I'm completely serious. "I'm 
going for eternity."
	
She grins. "You're nothing if not thorough, aren't you?" 
She cradles my face in her hands and gives me a fabulous 
smile. "If you want to be with me forever, then I'm 
definitely settling for that. Do I accept you as my 
husband? Heck yes! I do, Mulder, I do with all my heart." 
	
She pulls me to her and we hug hard. "I think it's my turn 
now."
	
I smile. "I can't wait."
	
She chuckles. "I was thinking of just saying 'ditto' and 
ask you to say 'I do', but ..." She takes a breath before 
going on. "I think you were wrong just a moment ago 
when you said I could've had better. Because I tried, and 
I failed, and you're honestly the only man who would 
ever have done for me. You've shown me your love and 
friendship and affection from the day we met, because 
you've always treated me with respect. Love is easy, but 
true respect for the innermost person -- that's rare to find. 
You've given it to me and it never seemed to take much 
of an effort in you."

"I couldn't help it," I say and she nods.
	
"Exactly, it came completely natural to you. That's a 
strong basis for love, Mulder, and I felt safe to give you 
my love, because I knew it would be built on utmost 
respect. Whatever the future holds for us, however things 
are going to change, I know we will always have love and 
respect for each other. You've given me a precious gift --" 
She places her hand on her lower belly. "- and you've 
given me your heart. I can only ask you to accept mine ..." 
She reaches up and kisses me softly. "Will you take me as 
your wife, to be truly yours in every way possible, 
forever?"
	
I gather her to me again. "I will. I do. Oh God, I do ..." 
Then I let go and after a quick look at her, I pull her face 
towards mine and we kiss. We seem to kiss forever.
	
We end with a few soft kisses. I for one just don't want 
to give this feeling up. 
	
"So we're married now, aren't we?" she says, smiling.
	
I nod. "As far as I'm concerned, yes." Then I frown. "I 
wish I had a ring for you."
	
She cups my jaw in her hand and her eyes are soft. "I 
know you do. It's okay, maybe one day we'll find a ring 
somewhere. It'll keep."
	
I pick up some old dry wheat stalks left behind from last 
year. The field is empty, seemingly barren, but hidden 
under the fertile soil the seeds lie dormant. Just waiting 
patiently for their time to appear and grow. The 
symbolism isn't lost on me.
	
"You know, in pre-Christian times wheat was considered 
to be a sign of good luck and fertility," I say and she 
smiles. If I had been her I'd be making some lame 
comment now, but she's too smart for that. I arrange them 
into a miniature sheaf, then rather sheepishly offer it to 
her. "It's not much, but it seems stupid not to give you 
anything now."
	
She smiles widely. "Thank you." We look at each other 
for a bit and I feel my smile growing bigger by the 
second. My God, I'm a lucky bastard to have her! I lean 
in and kiss her hot. She giggles a little. "Getting playful, 
are we?"
	
I grin. "Well, maybe a little." I wiggle my eyebrows. 
"After all, seeing that we just got married, there's always 
the ... wedding night ..."

"Mulder, it's only midday!"
	
I lean in close and softly kiss her neck, little vampire 
kisses that I know can turn her on in seconds. "So we'll 
have more time."
	
She shudders and she becomes soft in my arms, and I feel 
a rush of arousal shoot through me. "The animals need us 
to ..." she protests weakly.

"I'll get up later to care for them, I promise," I say in a 
low voice. Then I pull away from her and I grin when I 
see the dark look in her eyes. Her lips, lipstick-less for 
almost two years now, are red and full and moist, 
betraying her excitement. I take her hand and together we 
make our way back to the farm; to a warm house and a 
warmer bed.

XxXxX

"Can you see it? It's getting rounder."
	
She's lying on her back, her head on my chest, and she's 
lazily stroking her abdomen. We're taking a breather from 
our lovemaking, and we're just lying here now, chatting a 
bit, cuddling some more, taking our own sweet time. I'll 
need to get up soon to tend to our animals before darkness 
falls, but right now it can wait.
	
I nod. "It is. Are your breasts larger, too? They seem so to 
me, but then I'm rather biased."
	
She chuckles. "You would be, wouldn't you? But, yeah, I 
think they are. Well, they'll have a job to do soon." She 
turns around onto her stomach and crawls up so our faces 
are level. "Except for turning you on, that is."
	
"They've always been able to do that," I say and she 
giggles.
	
"Even before we became lovers?"
	
I nod. "Remember Oregon when you stripped for me?"
	
"That early?"
	
"Yup."
	
"But I had my underwear on still, hadn't I?"
	
I huff. "That hid nothing, sweetheart, especially not from 
a guy who hadn't done it in an embarrassingly long time. I 
may have had a reputation for having done the entire 
secretarial pool -- and I didn't mind that reputation, it sure 
beat the other one! -- but I'd been on a dry spell for way 
too long."

"Really? I had a boyfriend at the time, I'd always thought 
you must've had a girlfriend as well."
	
"Nah, you know our work didn't mix well with 
relationships."
	
She nods. "Ethan left me about two weeks into our 
partnership. Said I wasn't paying him enough attention." 
She lets out a soft sigh and turns a little, moving up so our 
faces are side by side. "I think he was jealous because I 
was with another man."
	

"You weren't with me, you were just my partner."
	
She shrugs a little. "Try telling that to a guy like him."
	
"Are you sorry he dumped you?"
	
She doesn't answer right away. Then, "I think it was 
inevitable. And maybe we didn't really have a future 
together anyway. I don't know. He was an all right guy, 
but ..." She sighs. "... Anyway, he left me and I got you. 
And I haven't had the urge to look elsewhere."
	
I nod.
	
We are silent for a little while.
	
"Do you think I should get up to look after the animals?"
	
She nods. "Perhaps you'd better, they need us. But I 
don't want to stay in this bed alone. It'll get cold." She 
stretches, letting out a satisfied little groan. "You've worn 
me out."
	
"Good, because the feeling is quite mutual."
	
She grins. "Awesome!" She combs my hair with her 
fingers. "Your hair is getting long again, I should cut it."
	
I nod and rub my hand over my jaw. "I should shave, 
too."
	
"Yeah, I've noticed that ... stubble of yours in very 
interesting places," she says, her eyes twinkling 
dangerously. Cut it out, I think, or those beasts will never 
get another meal. "Come," she then says, "let's get out of 
bed, feed the animals and clean the pens, and we can 
continue this very pleasant pastime when we get back."
	
"Maybe we can do it in front of the fireplace then. Stoke 
up the fires in more ways than one ..."
	
She smiles. "I suppose so." Then she frowns. "I 
completely forgot: did you blow out the candles?"
	
I nod. "Yes, before we went outside."
	
"Phew, thanks. You know, I totally didn't think of that!"
	
"So I noticed. It's not like you to be so absent-minded."
	
"I was ... preoccupied, shall we say?"
	
I grin. "I know ..."

XxXxX

We're back inside after looking after the animals. I'm 
beginning to doubt the wisdom of my decision to put the 
chickens and pigs in together with the geese, sheep and 
our two horses and three cows, since the mess they're 
making is unbelievable, but for now I think it might be the 
only solution. If the temperature goes up to above freezing 
we may change them back, but for now it will probably 
help in their survival. We lost a few animals to the cold 
last year, and although it meant instant food, I'd much 
prefer to determine their fate as our needs grow. It's a 
delicate balance, since more live animals means more 
mouths to feed, but possibly more young in the spring. We 
slaughtered a couple of pigs and an old cow this autumn 
and she pickled fruit and vegetables, and that should see 
us through the winter, but it's not easy.

	
I should've spent my money on books about survival and 
farming instead of on all those videos I never owned ...
	
The fire in the hearth is blazing. We're recklessly 
extravagant with our firewood today, but we'll be more 
careful again tomorrow. We need to be prudent.

Sometimes it annoys the heck out of me.
	
"Penny for your thoughts?" she says softly and I smile at 
her. We're cuddling on the couch, still fully dressed. I 
know we were thinking of a little sexy fun in front of the 
fire, but we haven't gotten to that yet.
	
"Nah, I don't think they're worth that much."
	
She smiles. "Worrying about the upcoming winter?"
	
I raise my eyebrows. "How did you know?"
	
She shakes her head. "It's all we seem to think about these 
days, and it's what we should think about. By the way, 
skipping winter and moving to spring: I think a few of the 
sheep are pregnant."
	
I nod. "I was thinking as much, yes. Bessie and Flora are 
going to have young as well. And the chickens and geese 
will probably have loads of chicks." Bessie is our little 

heifer, and Flora is the young mare I was hoping to get a 
foal from anyway. Our other horses are getting on a bit 
and we need new, strong animals. I'm kind of hoping this 
foal will be a male, as I don't think our current draft horse 
has a lot of years left in him, and a young stallion will be 
invaluable. Of course, a little female will give us the 
promise of new foals to come when she's older. Anyway, 
babies are always good, no matter what the sex is.
	
She's silent for a few moments. Then she chuckles a little. 
"It's a fertile little farm we're having, isn't it?"

My eyes are drawn to her abdomen, which doesn't show 
anything under her clothes yet. Well, hardly anything; 
perhaps I'm seeing a small bump, but I'm probably just 
kidding myself. "It would seem so, yes." Then I frown. 
"How are we going to know if everything is all right with 
the baby?"
	
She sighs. "I think we're not going to know. Unless it 
goes wrong, that is. I'm not going to be able to have 
check-ups, like with William. We're going to have trust 
everything will be okay." She looks up at me and smiles. 
"Stop looking so worried, women have been having babies 
for as long as mankind is on this planet. I'm sure I'll be 
fine."
	
"Women have been known to die in childbirth in droves 
as well until modern science stepped in," I counter, unable 
to shake my sense of doom.
	
She presses her lips together and gives a little shrug. 
"Yeah, well, there's precious little we can do to change 
this, is there? There's no chance They'll be leaving soon 
and the civilisation that made that science possible is now 
truly a thing of the past, and maybe of the future. But it's 
not here now. We're alone and we're going to have to 
make the best of it."
	
"Maybe this baby ..."
	
"I think this child was meant to be," she says softly. "I 
mean, I know we're not using birth control, and the 
thought of not having sex with you is total lunacy, but the 
chances of my getting pregnant at all were so 
astronomically small that I think there was a higher power 
at work that pulled a few strings and pushed a few 
buttons and made sure that that little egg down there 
ripened and was lucky enough to find some sperm. As 
unlikely goes, this is a pretty good candidate."
	
"Lucky stars, eh?"
	
"That's one way to put it, yeah." She softly squeezes my 

hand. "We have to put trust in God or whoever decides 
about this. There's nothing else for it."
	
"Do you think that coffee you had this morning was 
smart? I heard that pregnant women shouldn't have 
caffeine."
	
She shrugs. "Maybe not, but ... well, it's not as though I'll 
be having a lot of it anyway. And if winter turns out to be 
harsh, that little bit of caffeine will be the least of this 
baby's worries. I can only try to do the best I can, and 
pray we'll have a healthy child by the end of it." She 
smiles. "Not to mention that I really wasn't going to pass 
up on a chance to have coffee again."

	
I let out a breath. She's right. Now I just need to convince 
myself of that fact.
	
I feel her hand in my hair and turn to look at her. 
	
"Stop worrying," she says softly, smiling. "We'll be fine. 
We'll all be fine." Then she straddles my legs and kisses 
me. "You know, with the animals settled in for the night, 
and the crops safe and dry, we have some time to spare."
	
I smile, pulling her closer until our bodies are flush. God, I 
love feeling that tight little body against mine, it never 
fails to arouse me. "Determined to put your words into 
action?"

"Actually, I believe those were your words. You were the 
one suggesting a little hot fun in front of the fire."
	
"So I was. But you didn't exactly protest."
	
She curves an eyebrow and I grin. "Come on, honestly, 
did you expect me to?"
	
I shake my head and start kissing and nibbling the soft 
skin of her neck, little vampire bites. "Nah, not really."
	
I feel her chuckle under my lips. "Good," she says. "Now, 
be a manly man, and put some more wood on the fire so 
we won't get interrupted."
	
"You like being bossy, don't you?" I grin, but the truth is 
I just got turned on another notch. I'll have to be careful 
or this is going to end embarrassingly early.
	
"I can be a lot bossier than that, but I'm not feeling like 
that right now."
	
I smile and quickly kiss her before I get up to feed the 
fire.

	
"Hurry up, Mulder, it's getting cold without you."
	
If I ever needed an incentive to move faster so I can get 
intimate with her, I just heard it.

XxXxX

When I wake up my arms are empty and it feels as though 
the skin on my back is freezing off. Just then I feel how a 
blanket is draped over me and I smile, welcoming the 
warm cover.
	
"Shhh, you can stay here," I hear her say and for a 
moment I'm tempted to do just that. Then I remember 
where we are and I force my eyes open.
	
"Shouldn't we be in bed?"
	
She sits down on the edge of the sofa. She's wrapped a 
blanket around her. Then, blanket and all, she lies down 
next to me. I hold open my blanket and she snuggles 
closer, letting her blanket fall open so we're skin to skin, 
covered by a warm stack of wool.
	
"Where did you go?" I whisper.
	
"To the bathroom. Go back to sleep, it's still dark 
outside."
	
Of course by now I'm completely awake. "Are you 
sleepy?"
	
"Well, not really, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't go 
back to sleep," she says. "Why? You want to make love 
some more?"
	
She doesn't sound too keen herself and although I don't 
think she'd refuse if I said I did, I don't want to make her 
think she has to do me a favour. We may have waited 
ridiculously long before we became lovers, but it hasn't 
dampened her eagerness a bit and I'm pretty sure she'll be 
ready and willing soon enough. Besides, there's 
something to be said for simply cuddling as well.
	
"Well, I wouldn't mind, but ... you know ..."
	
"What?"
	
"Well, it's a bit late to be thinking about this now, but ..." 
I take a deep breath. "... do you think this is the kind of 
world we should let a child be born into? It's not safe and 
we really don't know what the future will hold for us."
	
She doesn't answer immediately. Then, "I don't know. 
And it's not as though we can just pull out now, can we?" 
She sighs, but smiles. "People have had children in the 
worst of situations. Children have been born during wars, 
famines, in times of incredible poverty and deprivation. I 

don't know if we'll be able to give this child a good 
future. But I'm pretty sure I'm not the only pregnant 
woman on this planet right now, and all those babies were 
conceived after the Invasion. I think it's only natural that 
people continue to have children. As it should be."
	
I nod. "Yeah, you're probably right."

She kisses me softly but warmly. "Of course I am," she 
smiles, making me smile widely in return. "Come, let's go 
to sleep. Christmas is almost over."

"I wouldn't mind if it never ended," I reply, almost more 
to myself than to her, and it's true: this was a pretty damn 
fine one.
	
"Me neither," she whispers against my lips and the 
warmth of her lips and her breath, along with the 
sensation of her tongue against my lips quickly heats up 
this kiss. She gently pulls me on top and I feel my groin 
stir. Looks like we're going to make love after all. Well, I 
don't mind at all.
	
"Merry Christmas," I whisper and she smiles, running her 
hands over my torso. I can't really see her, but I can feel 
her skin heat up with arousal. My body isn't slow to 
follow.
	
"Actually, I think it's technically already the day after 
Christmas," she answers and I can hear the grin in her 
voice.
	
"Yeah, well, whatever," I reply and pull her down to kiss 
her.
	
Merry Christmas, Dana.

THE END

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