TITLE: "Revelo" 
AUTHOR: Kirsten Kerkhof * kirsten_xf@yahoo.com 
RATING: PG 
CLASSIFICATION: Mulder/Scully married 
CATEGORY: S R 
DISCLAIMER: Not mine ... *sigh* 
SPOILERS: Pilot, Beyond the Sea, Abduction-episodes 
FEEDBACK: Oh please ... I know this is an old story and I know 
I can do better (I hope), but I give you a Mulder if you do write 
back, okay? 
SUMMARY: Mulder, Scully, and the 'hump' (Than-X, Natalia!) 

XxXxX 
"Revelo"
XxXxX 
 
   He looked at the peaceful face of his wife, sleeping at his 
side. He smiled. God, he loved her! And the best thing was that 
she loved him too. Honestly speaking he couldn't imagine why, he 
didn't know what it was that he possibly had to offer her in return 
for her unfaltering love, but obviously she saw something in him 
that he didn't know he had. And it felt really good ... 
   He caressed her cheek, tracing the delicate bone structure 
that lay underneath. He ran his finger over her jaw and her chin, 
then over her soft, full lips. Her lips parted slightly and she 
sighed, but she didn't wake up. Or so he thought. 
   He looked at her and all of a sudden he couldn't resist the 
temptation to press his lips on hers, to taste her sweetness. He 
touched her lips with his and to his surprise he felt that she began 
to kiss him back. Not that he cared ... 
   "I didn't know you were awake, Scully", he said with a 
smile. 
   "I wasn't, but you woke me up." 
   "I'm sorry." 
   "I'm not." 
   "No, you need your sleep." 
   "Mulder! I'm not ill!" 
   "No, you're not. I know that", he answered and smiled. He 
placed his hand on her abdomen, softly stroking the slight bulge 
that had begun to form. It was a miracle. 
   He felt her hand stopping his, covering it, her small hand 
soft and light on his. He looked at her and the look she gave him 
made him want to die happy. Yes, it was a miracle. A miracle not 
even Fox Mulder could understand. 
   "Are you happy, Mulder?" she whispered. 
   "Mm-mm", he answered. He felt too content to speak.  
   He made her hide her face in the curve of his neck, almost 
wanting to protect her against all the evil with which this world 
could possibly want to harm her. Her and the life inside her. Her 
baby. Their baby. The ultimate proof of their love and their bond. 
   He closed his eyes and held her warm body close to his 
side. He felt an insane urge to laugh - or to cry, he didn't know - 
but he managed to suppress the feeling. Instead he merely sighed. 
   Then a chill ran through him as he felt her lips softly 
kissing his jaw, going up to his ear where she gave him a lazy 
kiss. He held his breath and felt the tension in him grow. But then 
she stopped, seemingly unsure about what she wanted to do. 
   He frowned and turned his face to look and see why she 
had stopped. She had her eyes closed and was lying with her head 
against his shoulder, her arms around him. He smiled at the sight, 
fully understanding why she had stopped kissing him. 
   She had fallen asleep. Oh, Scully ... 
   He carefully stroked her cheek and as he felt her soft, 
warm, satiny skin he remembered their discussion, only a few 
days before. He had told her that it seemed so miraculous to him 
and to his amazement she hadn't tried to contradict him. He had 
expected her to tell him that it had nothing to do with miracles 
and everything with nature, but she hadn't. She had merely looked 
at him, granting him a breath-taking smile, showing him that 
despite her tendency to give scientific explanations for everything 
they encountered, she seemed to want to believe in miracles as 
much as he did. And to let him believe. She had told him that it 
indeed was some sort of a miracle, immediately adding that there 
was of course a perfect scientific explanation for it ... And he 
hadn't even felt bothered by it. On the contrary, it had added a 
certain familiarity to the conversation. This was Dana Scully in 
optima forma ... 
   He felt her shift next to him. Was she waking up? Then 
she took his hand and covering it with her own hand she placed it 
on her belly. 
   "What?" he asked. 
   "Shh ... Just feel it ...", she whispered. 
   And then he felt it. He felt it move. Their child. It was 
alive! It stunned him. 
   "It's moving, Scully!" he said, his voice clearly betraying 
his amazement. 
   He looked at her. Her eyes were both shiny with tears and 
sparkling like stars, the combination making her look supremely 
happy. 
   Then she frowned, just for one-tenth of a second. But his 
FBI-trained senses didn't fail to pick it up. 
   "Everything's all right, isn't it, Mulder?" she whispered. 
   He nodded, though he didn't answer. He hoped the child 
was fine. God, he hoped it more than he could ever tell! He 
wished he could tell her that her baby was going to be perfect, but 
he couldn't. Because he didn't know. No-one ever knew for 
certain, but with them there was always that additional worry 
about her three missing months, so long ago, and what "they" 
might have done to her. 
   Her smile faded and a slightly troublesome look appeared. 
   "Is something wrong, Scully?" 
   "I'm worrying about ... about what they've done with me, 
Mulder. Do you think I'm fine?" 
   It took some effort, but then he nodded and momentarily 
they were silent. 
   "I'm scared, Mulder." 
   "Are you worried about your baby, Scully?" 
   "I'm afraid something's wrong and it's my fault ..." 
   He looked at her in shock. She couldn't possibly think that ... 
   "It's not your fault if anything's wrong with it, Scully, you 
know that." 
   "I know, but ... I'm just ... I ... you ...", she said and looked 
helplessly at him. 
   "What, Scully, are you afraid that I will blame you? Come 
on, you know me better than that!" 
   "It's not that, Mulder, I ..." 
   "What is it, Scully? Tell me ..." 
   He saw the tears in her eyes and his heart froze.  
   'Oh, God', he thought. 'She about to cry! She really 
terrified! But about what?' 
   "You won't leave me if anything's wrong, will you, 
Mulder?" 
   "Scully!" 
   "Please, don't leave me, Mulder ...", she whispered, her 
voice tight with tears, clinging  onto him as if her life depended 
on it. 
   "Scully, what the hell are you talking about? I ... I'd never ..." 
   He pulled her close and kissed her, her cheek salty with 
tears. 
   "Don't worry, Scully, everything's just fine. I know that. 
You're going to have a beautiful baby and we'll be so happy. I'm 
absolutely certain of that." 
   She sighed and smiled. 
   "Everything's going to be all right, isn't it, Mulder?" 
   He nodded and she chuckled. 
   "I'm sorry I bothered you like that ...", she said. "I 
shouldn't ..." 
   He cut her off by lightly placing his fingertip over her lips. 
   "Shh, don't be. It's all right, I understand." 
   "I knew you would, Mulder ..." She paused and then she 
smiled. "I'm always the one making stupid remarks, aren't I?" 
   "Those are your words, Scully, not mine ..." 
   She chuckled and looked up. 
   "You'd like to hear more words, agent Mulder?" 
   A chill ran through him at hearing the promises hidden in 
her voice and her words. 
   "Words?" 
   "Or more, if you want to ..." 
   'Well, Scully, you sure never cease to amaze me!' he 
thought as he felt her lips trailing slowly over his jaw, planting 
soft yet hot kisses over his skin until it felt like she had drawn a 
line of fire across his jaw ending with a sweet full kiss on his lips. 
He couldn't help the sigh that escaped him as she stopped. 
   "You know, I'm actually glad you decided not to go for 
words, agent Scully, I think I like this much better!" 
   "Good, because that's exactly what you were supposed to 
say!" 
   He smiled and sighed again. She was really the most 
amazing, wonderful woman he'd ever met. And of all the men in 
the world, of all those perfect men she had met over the years, 
men who'd be able to give her so much more than he thought he 
ever could, she had chosen him to be her man, her lover, her 
husband. And now the father of her child. Being with her was like 
being allowed to spend the rest of his life in paradise; it made up 
for all he'd lost and sacrificed over the years, it made it all seem 
worthwhile. Even losing Samantha was worth it - well, sort of - 
because if Samantha wouldn't have been taken from him, he'd 
probably never have ended up with the X-Files, which means 
she'd never have become his partner - he most likely wouldn't 
even have met her, as their fields of expertise were too far apart - 
and consequently he'd probably never have known this kind of 
blessing. He shuddered at the thought. Hell, he didn't even mind 
that his photographic memory frequently reminded him of that 
dark, lost period before she had walked into his office, his life, 
and his soul, flooding it all with a kind of light, so unfamiliar to 
him that back then he had wished he could kick her out of the 
office. But she wouldn't let him kick her out, she had been 
standing there, a female J. Edgar Hoover wannabe, quietly poking 
holes in every theory he'd come up with to scare her. And he had 
hated it, but he had been forced to let her under his skin, forced by 
his own mind. He didn't mind thinking of that period anymore, 
because it contrasted so beautifully with the amazing, blissful 
situation he was in right now. 
   He pressed her closer. He felt warm and comfortable, her 
arms around him, his arms around her, their unborn child inside 
her safely protected between them. 
   She softly ran her hand through his hair and down his 
neck. It stayed on his shoulder where she gently massaged the 
muscles. The feeling was sweet and familiar to her touch, she 
knew he liked it. She knew him so well ... She slowly lifted her 
mouth to his ear and closed her eyes. 
   "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I 
love you", she whispered. She saw and felt a shiver ripple through 
his body and with a smile she repeated her mantra of love and 
affection over and over again to the point where it became the sole 
important phrase in life. And beyond. 
   God, she felt like she was going to burst right through her 
skin with love for him. She wanted to touch him all over, feel him 
everywhere, let herself melt in his arms and envelope herself 
around him. Loving him. Loving him. 
   'Touch him, gotta touch him', she felt her mind form 
insane, passionate thoughts. 'Touch me, Mulder, kiss me!' 
   She removed her hand from his shoulder, back to his head 
and she slowly bent his head towards hers, seeking the sweet, 
intoxicating taste of him with her lips, longing to drown herself in 
the overwhelming sensation of love, love, and ... well, love, really 
... Loving him beyond reason, she had to, just had to ... 
   Then she felt the heat of his lips on hers, the sensation of 
which alone was enough to make her head spin, make her mind 
go crazy, her body wild with desire and amazement. 
   Yes, this must be why she had married him. Fox Mulder 
was without a doubt the most amazing man she had ever met. 
And he was handsome - hell, he was drop dead gorgeous! -, he 
was brilliant, endearing, frustrating, stubborn-like-a-pissed-off 
mule - sometimes - ... And absolutely irresistible. Oh sure, there 
were times that she'd felt the bloody urge to slap him in the face 
with anger and frustration, but she just couldn't resist his 
charming ways, even when he'd hurt her again with his actions 
and felt he deserved nothing but being left on his own. She'd 
never do that, she knew that whatever he did that hurt her, he felt 
sorry for it even before he had done it. He lived with guilt as his 
permanent companion. He had hurt her countless times, certainly, 
and she had hurt him, too. Like hell. He had ditched her, left her 
in the dark, she'd been dying with fear and he'd never given her so 
much as a call to say that he was fine. No, she had never ditched 
him, not that ... 
   But she could never stay angry with him for very long. 
Because, in truth, she had found that this dark, multi-layered 
aspect of his added a certain spicy touch to his personality, 
without which everything would be dull and boring. Much as she 
hated it when it actually happened, she needed her worry - or her 
fear - for him, it kept her alert. And alive. 
   And much sooner than she herself, her mother had been 
allowed to see the person Fox Mulder behind the agent Fox 
Mulder. The side of him he showed to only those who'd 
understand and respect the vulnerability inside him. People who 
wouldn't treat his trust lightly, but those who'd support him. For 
he needed support. Physically he was strong. He was muscular 
and well-built, in excellent physical condition. But mentally he 
probably had not even half the strength of an average person. He 
was damaged by traumatising events that had been allowed to 
grow until they had threatened to make him plunge himself head-
first into the pitch-dark abyss of insanity. 
   Her mother had been the first to see him the way he really 
was: wary, distrustful yet honest, and with a desperate need for 
comfort and love. Motherly love. And she had given him that 
love, in the same way she gave her endless love to her own 
children. From the very first moment she had seen him, Scully 
knew her mother had adopted him as a child of her own, her third 
son. And even after their marriage he continued to see her 
mother. Without her. And it was all right. 
   Just as right as this kiss that never seemed to end. 
Sometimes soft and sweet, one second later hot and passionate, 
but always perfect. 
   Very slowly it ended, as if neither of them wanted to give 
this up already. And as she opened her eyes she found herself 
looking in her husband's eyes. The look she found there made her 
breath stop in her throat. This wasn't just love. Or trust, which 
was one step beyond love for Fox Mulder. This was even more 
than trust, he looked at her as if she was his own personal goddess ... 
   He opened his mouth as if about to speak, but no sound 
came out. Then he spoke, slow and unsure. 
   "Have you got any idea what you mean to me, Scully?" 
   She looked at him, contemplating what and whether she'd 
answer. She could make a joke of it, which would be disastrous. 
Or she could tell him what *he* meant to *her*. But she couldn't sum 
up what he meant to her, there was no way that words could 
express all that. 
   So she said nothing, merely looked at him, her eyes telling 
him that he could speak freely, that she would treasure his answer 
like gold. 
   "Everything", he answered, shrugging slightly and 
seemingly helplessly. 
   He saw her brow crinkle in a slight frown. Then her face 
relaxed and she smiled as she shook her head. 
   "Don't give me so much power, Mulder, I ..." 
   "Everything, Scully", he cut her off. "Everything. You hold 
me right ... here", as he took her hand and kissed the palm. 
   "You hold me in the palm of your hand. And I hold you in 
my heart." 
   "Not in the palm of *your* hand, Mulder?" she smiled. 
   "No, because my hands have done too many horrible 
things and I don't want to do that to you, not even in thought ...", 
he answered, his voice completely serious. The look in his eyes 
was so beautiful, she couldn't find an answer for quite a while. 
But then she swallowed and said softly: 
   "You know where I really, truly hold you, Mulder?" 
   He looked at her and she took his hand. First she held it 
over her heart, letting him feel the slow, strong heartbeat. Then 
she moved it down, placing his hand over the child she carried. 
   "In my heart and in this child, Mulder. That's where you 
are, where you really are ..." 
   "Rats, I always enjoyed thinking you held me in the palm 
of your hand!" he quipped, not able to mask the emotions that 
flowed through him. "Sounded so nice and poetic, I thought ..." 
   She laughed and laid her head on his chest, listening to his 
heartbeat, beating rhythmically and strongly under her ear. 
   "We're going to have a beautiful baby, aren't we, Mulder?" 
   He softly ran his fingers through her golden hair. Since the 
beginning of her pregnancy her hair had seemed to become even 
more beautiful, he noticed with amazement. 
   "Mm-mm. A beautiful red-haired little girl with large blue 
eyes who will be the beauty queen at college one day!" 
   "Or a cute little boy with intense hazel eyes and unruly 
brown hair, destined to become irresistibly handsome!" she 
laughed. 
   "And spooky?" Mulder said, raising his eyebrows, curious 
of her reaction. 
   "God, I hope not. One spooky Mulder is great, but I'm not 
sure whether I'll be able to handle two!" 
   He laughed, a wonderful, rare Mulder-laugh that she didn't 
hear nearly often enough. 
   "You'd do just fine with two, Scully. I've given you plenty 
of opportunities to practise!" 
   "Yes, you have actually, but a girl's got to have dreams  ..." 
   "So your dream is not to have more than one spooky 
Mulder?" 
   "Well, not exactly, even though two spooky Mulders would 
make the perfect nightmare of course ..." her tone was kind of 
cheeky. 
   For a moment they didn't speak. 
   "You have a dream that you're dreaming frequently, 
Scully?" 
   "Yeah, I guess so." 
   "Will you tell me about it?" 
   "My dream, Mulder?" 
   "Yes ... if you want to share it with me, that is. If you don't 
want to tell me, that's all right too ..." 
   'How typically Mulder', she thought. 'Even when it comes 
to something as innocent as a dream he's prepared to let me have 
them and not tell him.' 
   "My dream, Mulder?" she repeated softly. Then she fell 
silent and he could've sworn he heard a little sob. 
   "Scully, are you okay? Are you sure you want to tell me?" 
he asked concerned. 
   "Yes, Mulder, I'm fine, it's just that ... Well, my dream ..." 
   She lifted her head from his chest and looked at him. 
   "My dream, Mulder, is about my father. Sometimes, every 
now and then, I see him in a dream. It started about two years 
after his death ... I ... I sometimes saw him. Every time it was in a 
different situation, it often happened on out of town cases, when I 
sometimes felt a little lonely and ... probably a little home-sick, 
too ... And then I'd see him, looking so happy ... so ... happy ..." 
   "He was feeling happy, Scully?" 
   "He was not just feeling happy, he was happy, he was 
happiness. He was younger, too, about as old as he was after three 
years of marriage. In the first dreams I saw him, there was still 
some sort of sternness in his face and attitude, but lately he's so 
open, so ... so ... He's my father, Mulder, and I love him dearly. I 
believe he's watching me, and Melissa is at his side, and they can 
see us and our baby, and I think they're very happy for us. At least 
that's the impression I get when I see him, I don't know ..." 
   "How do you feel after such a dream?" 
   "I feel happy, loved. I know I'm the happiest woman on 
earth and it makes me feel very tranquil. I think he's proud of me 
... Proud ..." 
   She had her eyes closed and was lying with her head 
against his shoulder. God, he loved her. So much ... 
   "Have you ever asked him about your baby, Scully?" 
   "No" 
   "No?" 
   "No, because I ... I got the feeling I wasn't allowed to ask 
him that, even though he knows what I want to know so 
desperately. And right now I think he's right. We shouldn't try to 
know and understand it all, there are things that are supposed to 
remain mysteries, I guess. And the wonder of life is one of those 
mysteries. But I did think about it once in a dream and he gave 
me a wink, so I think I know already ..." 
   She smiled and looked ahead of her, feeling a little sleepy. 
They were silent for a moment. He stroked her hair lazily, 
thinking about what she'd just told him. 
   "You remember how it all started, Mulder?" 
   "What?" 
   "This whole conversation. It started with a kiss, 
remember?" 
   "Ah yes. Hey, I'm the guy with the photographic memory!" 
he said and grinned broadly. 
   "Okay, then please remember that kiss and give it to me 
again. Just the way it was." 
   "I could do that, I guess ... So, let's see, didn't it start 
something like ... this?" he said and immediately pressed her lips 
on hers. 
   'Impressive, Mulder', she thought. 'I'll have to thank you 
for this!' 
   "So", he said when they had stopped. "How was it?" 
   "What do you think?" 
   'She sure hasn't changed', he thought. Dana Scully had 
always been the type of 'You show me your feelings and maybe 
then I'll show you mine.' 
   "I liked it", he said carefully. Actually, he had more than 
just 'liked' it, but he wanted to know her opinion. 
   "You wanna know what I really thought, Mulder?" 
   "Yeah, I guess I do ...", he answered. Was she just joking, 
or ... Surely the kiss wasn't that bad? 
   Her voice lowered to a sensual whisper. 
   "Impressive, Mulder, I was impressed. You sure know how 
to wake a girl!" 
   He grinned, more than just slightly relieved. 
   "You want to try it again?" 
   "Maybe later", she answered, stifling a yawn. "We have to 
get up early tomorrow and I'm sleepy ... Could you just hold me 
for now?" 
   "I could do that", he answered seriously and he took her in 
his arms. Very softly they fell asleep. The last thing Fox Mulder 
was aware of before sleep took over, was a wonderful, lazy 
emotion of supreme happiness. He was looking forward to the 
future. 

THE END

Mijn droom was over mijn vader ... Ik mis je ...
Je dochter,
Kirsten