TWO PEOPLE FELL IN LOVE

By Char Chaffin

Category: Pre-X, MSR, D/Other, W/Other, LoveFic, FutureFic,

Completely AU

Rating: R

Spoilers: Not really

Disclaimers: Clones on Loan

Dedication: We have a sweet IWTB Newbie, Piper - and it's her birthday! Happy Birthday, Fellow IWTB-Baby!

Beta Thanks! To Meridy, Sallie, Shelba and Steph for theirlook-see, cheerleading and advice - what a team!

Additional Thanks and Author notes at the end of the tale!

Title and theme gratefully borrowed from Brad Paisley, and his wonderful song, "Two People Fell in Love" -

Summary: 'Three generations, but only one reason - because two people fell in love...'

"Two People Fell in Love"

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~~~ One: Past ~~~

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"What are you thinking about?"

He smiled at the question, and turned his head to look at her. They were sharing the same pillow, the same air. It was dusky in their room; the sun had just gone down. Perhaps some people would say it was decadent to spend so much time in bed - but after all, it was their honeymoon. They were entitled to lollygag in bed in the early evening.

Outside the open patio door the surf murmured to them, low tide and one hell of an orange sunset just simmering below the horizon. They could have watched that glorious and fiery orb sink into the ocean - but they'd been too preoccupied, with each other. And that was right, and good - because they'd only been married a day.

One amazing day... and already she wanted to know what he was thinking.

He stared at her.

In the pre-twilight her face was unbearably lovely, her hair a thick mist over the pillow, her eyes at once innocent and sultry as they gazed into his. The innocence he figured would always shine from their blue depths; the sultry fire also present was there courtesy of their wedding night. He was proud as could be that he was the one to put that particular spark into her pretty eyes. She'd worn purest white down the aisle, and he'd been so, so proud. Proud that they'd waited, proud that he'd forced down his passion and desire, his need for her... until he'd made her legally his.

"Well? Are you going to keep me in suspense all night, my love? What's brewing up there, hmmm?" She reached out a finger and tapped at his head, and he caught the slender digit and brought it to his lips, kissing the soft pad, and then pressing another into her palm.

What he was thinking... oh, Lord. What wasn't he thinking, that was more the question, he knew. And all of it about her.

She was everything he'd ever wanted, in his whole life - and everything he thought he would never deserve. Her brothers had hated him, her parents had been wary of him. He was older, had been 'around the block', so to speak - had lived abroad, thanks to the Navy. He was tanned and hard and muscled and liked his beer. He smoked and played pool and piloted his boat much too fast. Not exactly reckless but not really all that safe - and he'd been a far cry from the innocent Catholic boy her folks had always assumed she'd go for. Catholic, yes.

Innocent, no.

He'd fallen for her on their first date. He would have married her that very night, that was a definite - but she'd kept him at arms' length for an agonizing three dates before she let him kiss her. Another two went by before she let him open her mouth with his tongue... and three months after that she allowed him to touch her in places deemed way off-limits for any good Catholic girl. By then he'd already been on his knees twice, had begged her to marry him. He asked her four times in all, before she said 'yes'... and three seconds after she did, he called his parents and told them the good news. Then he'd broken down and cried with his head in her lap, because the girl of his dreams had just become the fiancee of his future and he was so deliriously happy that he felt he was floating on a goddamn cloud.

And now his bride lay with her head on his pillow in an overly-warm hotel room in Honolulu, the day after their wedding - and wanted to know what he was thinking.

He decided to tell her. "I'm thinking about sending your parents a huge 'thank you' card."

Her eyes widened and she shifted her head a little, to better see into his eyes. "A 'thank you' card for my parents. MY parents. The ones who just about tossed you out on your ear several times in the past year... those parents? Mind telling me why they suddenly warrant your gratitude?"

He smiled at her, flickering his gaze over her nude form there on the bed next to him. Why, indeed? He could give her lots of reasons, starting at the top of her beautiful head and streaking down toward her small feet. From her soft hands to her soft breasts, her delectable mouth, her bright smile. Her endless heart, her loving manner; her dry wit and the inner strength that he was only beginning to discover and understand...

Her. He was grateful to her parents, because they had created her. For him. Just for him, although he knew it would take some time before they were as enchanted with the idea as he had become. But there it was. As simple as that. He'd just made love to her, for the first time bringing her to the same plane of ecstasy he'd already found, in her embrace. She'd trembled. Cried out in surprise and fulfillment in his arms, when the unfamiliar feeling of climax took her over. Had come back to earth slowly, as he had done - and she'd been amazing. He was the luckiest bastard in the entire US Navy...

He smiled at her again. Leaned in and kissed her sweet lips lingeringly. Whispered to her in a husky, emotion-laden voice, "They have my endless gratitude, my lovely wife... because one day, years ago, they did a very wise and very smart thing. They fell in love... and they made you. And I am reaping the benefits of their wisdom. That's what I was thinking, Margaret Mary... just that."

Her bottom lip trembled in reaction to the sweet words; she sniffed once, burrowed against him, her blushing and now-damp cheek pressed into his neck. And as he ran his big hands over her delicate back, William Scully thought that if he died tomorrow there would never be a more perfect feeling than this... holding his bride of one day in his arms in a romantic setting while she kissed his neck with her satin lips and gripped him in her small, strong hands.

He whispered to her again, "I want your children, Margaret. Soon. I want to start a family with you. I want to know that you have our child to keep you company when I have to go back to sea."

She raised her face, blinked at him in the darkening room. "You want a baby? So soon? Are you sure, Bill? We haven't even talked it over, very much... I thought you wanted to wait until we received definite word about that post you're trying for..."

He nodded, brushed his mouth over her damp temple. "I know. And I think that post may fall through. It's a feeling I have. I may need to go back, after all. We haven't talked it over but I know we both want a family, someday. I'm making plenty of money; I've saved a lot, too. We can start anytime - you don't even have to work, ever - not unless you want to. I want to give you a baby, Maggie - before I leave. I want to come home to the sight of you, with my child cradled in your arms."

Her smile curved against his cheek when she pressed herself close, her loving murmur a soft, "Oh, Bill. I want that baby too, so badly. I want at least three children, I think - no, four. I want four. Two boys and two girls. I want them to have your hair," she ran a gentle hand through the dark red hair that he wore in a crewcut, "I want them to have your eyes. Your strength. Your courage..."

He queried gently, "You don't want them to have anything of yours, Maggie mine? I do." He touched the curve of her mouth with an index finger. "I want the girls to have this gorgeous smile. I want them to have your blue eyes. I want them to have your loving heart. And I want them all to have your faith, your respect of all things just and holy... and if they are blessed with these things they'll be the luckiest children in the world."

Her smile wobbled a bit. "But what if I can't get pregnant, Bill? What then? If I can't ever have a baby..." Her worried query was cut short by the sudden and ardent kiss he pressed into her mouth, by the arms that banded around her and bore her back into the soft cotton sheets. By the hard body that covered her and the love pouring from him, into her soul.

He locked eyes with hers, linked hands with her, slipped into her deeply, leaving her in no doubt when his impassioned reply rasped into her trembling mouth. "You'll have my children, Love. Never doubt it. When it's time, when God deems us worthy of such a gift... you'll have them, one by one." He moved tenderly, adoringly against her, adding, "Two boys and two girls, this I swear to you. And you'll be a wonderful mother. Because your mother was a wonderful mother, and you take after her. Because your parents loved each other and they made you, just for me, Margaret Mary O'Hanlon Scully."

As the shadows lengthened in the room, William Scully made slow, sweet love to his bride Margaret Mary, and imagined he felt that first soft fluttering, when he pulsed and spiraled, emptied all of his worship into her eager body... the fluttering that meant they'd created life.

And her parents, and his before him - each pair had fallen in love, and made something wonderful from it. And those two creations had now become one perfect whole from the blending of each half - as it was meant to be.

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~~~ Two: Present ~~~

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"I adore your mother."

She grinned into his chest. "Oh you do, do you? Should I be worried? Jealous? Grateful?" She pressed her lips to his skin and felt him shudder in reaction.

He sifted his fingers through her hair. "You should be grateful, most of all. Certainly not worried. Probably not jealous, although I confess the idea of you getting all green-eyed and feisty on my behalf is kind of a turn on." His hand stroked down her bare back and it was her turn to shudder.

He added softly, "I also wish like hell I could have known your father. So I could adore him, too." He chuckled at the gape she sent him from widened eyes. He slipped his hand further down, cupped one sweet cheek and pressed her into his hip, watching her digest his words.

She sputtered, "Mind telling me why on earth you'd want to adore my father, Mulder? As well as my mother?"

He caressed her gently. "You bet, baby. I adore your mother because she made up one half of the team that created you, and thus created my reason for living. If your father were still with us, he'd have as much of my gratitude and love that your mother currently possesses, from me."

His words brought stinging tears to her eyes and a tremble to the smile that faltered just a little, when she folded him into her arms and kissed him all over his face. In between kisses she mumbled, "That may very well be the absolute sweetest thing you have ever said to me, Mulder..."

He held her close and returned each and every kiss. "Well, it won't be the last, Scully - this I promise you." A few more kisses, before he added, "Your parents got together and fell in love and got married - and one night when they were feeling very happy and very ready, they made love - and you were conceived. And at that moment, somewhere in the world, I think I must have felt a small tug, right in my heart." He took her hand and pressed the small palm over his beating organ, then continued. "Maybe at the time I thought it was one too many candy bars. Maybe I was asleep and dreamed about it, while it was happening. But I know I felt it. I know I knew it."

The vow made her tear up again, this time the salty drops spilling over her cheeks and sliding down her face, as she gazed at him with her very heart in her eyes. This man. This overwhelming love. Some days it was too much. Other days, it simply swamped her with its sweetness. And she knew she was lucky, so lucky... to have discovered that in her partner she'd found the love of her lifetime, and beyond. Only a man in enduring love would speak such incredibly romantic words to her. And mean them, that was the thing.

He meant them.

Their relationship was still solidifying, even after years together. Still growing. Still fresh and new and yet so familiar it was like baking bread from scratch using a brand-new loaf pan. Tasted better, shaped more like tradition dictated... yet was improved by the fact that the pan was new and would form this perfect substance. Like them. New. Fresh. Better.

He lived and breathed for her. Would die for her. All the years of knowing her, partnering with her, protecting her and in turn being protected, by her... it had all led up to this moment, as sacred to him as all their past moments: Scully, in his arms. Bare skin pressed up into his equally-bare skin; gentle breeze wafting through an open window while the kisses they shared got more intense, got deeper, got harder. Hotter. Like it had never happened before, like the first time... although it was far from their first. They'd been intimate for years. But each time they made love, it was brand new and fresh and just so damned good...

Newlyweds. If they both lived to be a hundred they'd still be on their honeymoon, that was the truth. There might be little strength left in their arthritic hands, to touch and caress, but they'd manage and each touch would mean so much more. They'd kiss and it would be delicious, regardless of whether or not their dentures clacked together when they attempted a bit of Frenchie - and they'd never be too old to try it - never. They'd lie side by side in their bed and they'd press together even though their flesh might be weak. It wouldn't matter for their spirits would always be willing...

As they were right now. Spirits willing and flesh far from weak. After years of loving her it had only gotten stronger, better - after all of the past sadness and anxiety, a past fraught with danger and trial, their love never suffered, never faltered. For every loss they'd faced, they'd gained three times as much happiness.

Blessed. That's what they were, pure and simple. And he owed it all to her father, and her mother... for having the wisdom to fall in love and make Dana Scully, just for him.

The kiss he pressed into her mouth was so meltingly tender it brought more tears to her eyes; the arms that gathered her close trembled in reaction to having her so near. Hazel eyes locked with bright blue, as they kissed with increasing passion... love spilled over and swamped them, as he parted her legs, as he slipped between... as he slid home, into her endless and tender heat.

They moved together as if they'd been born to do so, thrusts meeting counter-thrusts and breath exploding against flushed skin. So, so good... and as she shuddered in his arms, as he came apart in hers, Mulder spared one more heartfelt prayer of thanks to the Powers above, that she was his.

As their breathing quieted, as their skin cooled and their kisses became sleepy and their fingers intertwined together... Mulder smiled into his wife's drowsy eyes, thinking that tomorrow he'd send her mother a huge bouquet of roses. 'Thank You' roses, one for every year he'd known her, for every year she'd loved him like a son... and a dozen more, for good measure. Because she was instrumental in the making of his very happiness - and because in her total acceptance of him he had come to adore her. Because she had become his mother, too.

Side by side with the soft summer breeze floating over their heads... they slept. And down the hall, in a smaller bedroom, their young son slept, too - and dreamed his own brand of little-boy dreams.

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~~~ Three: Future ~~~

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"I want to marry you, Mevvie." The words were uttered from a young throat, but the love behind those words was adult and filled with the wonder of everything he felt, bursting within his heart. He held her tightly in his arms, a slender slip of a girl who barely reached his shoulder and whose tender mouth had just kissed him, as he'd kissed her.

And at his words her eyes got round and her voice was a breathless squeak as she stammered, "M-marry? How can we get married? We're not old enough yet! We don't know enough about each other, Will!"

He shook his head, kissed her again, an open-mouthed kiss that made up in ardor what it lacked in experience and finesse. "I know you, Mevvie. I know all I need to, about you. I don't have to be older to know that you're the only girl for me. I love you so much - I want you so badly. As my wife. I want to give you children. I want you when you're old and I haven't any hair, I want you when we can do nothing more than hold hands in the nursing home. You have to marry me, Mevvie. I'll die without you."

The words were so dramatic but she knew he was dead serious. William Mulder never said anything he didn't mean. Maeve gulped in several fortifying breaths along with the panic and longing his vow stirred inside her, and fought like mad to be the sensible one. They had only dated each other for three weeks. But already, she had become the sensible one, even though she had wanted to take after her free-spirited, passionate mother. And her mother would have let herself be swept away by the moment, would have agreed to marry him, immediately. Her mother could easily be a true Bohemian, but Maeve took after her more conservative, more practical father. And yet... her papa had been swept away by her mama's endless passion, and fiercely caring ways. Papa always said that Mama had taught him how to live and how to love... surely he of all people would approve of what had blossomed within her heart, for the boy who held her so tightly.

She stared up into William's bright blue eyes. He was so beautiful, he made her ache. Tall. Slender yet muscled. Wide shouldered and narrow-hipped. Full lips, white smile. Straight nose and big eyes. Impulsive, impetuous, already she had seen this side of him. And she had already given him all she could give of herself... her heart. Soul. Innocence... and no regrets, she'd never regret it. But marriage?

They were both too young, were still in school. And yet... hadn't her mother always told her to follow her heart, let it guide her? Hadn't her mother done exactly that, when she'd married Maeve's father? Mama never let anything stand in the way of her determination to have a wonderful life, to be happy. Even if it meant going against her beloved Papa. Maeve knew this, had grown up seeing it, surrounded by that peculiar combination of passion and common sense. In fact, she was a careful balance of just that.

She and Will had met up again when she and her parents and older brother moved back to Hanover and she had started school at Hanover Central High. Her parents had moved to be close to their friends, the Mulders. It was natural that she'd see Will, as their parents reacquainted themselves. They'd been young children when last they'd played together... It was natural that they'd go out on a few dates, get to know each other. Natural that they'd be so attracted to each other... natural they'd fall in love.

The unbidden thought now brought Maeve up in shock, as she stood in the circle of Will's arms and forced her practical side to overrule her passions, and examine her feelings. Love. That's what was there, she was sure of it. She'd never felt anything stronger than a vague crush, on anyone - all through school. She was only one grade behind him but there were three years between them. She'd started school at four years of age and had skipped a grade as well, making her a young high school junior. He was a senior, had just turned eighteen. She was fifteen and a half, yet she knew she loved him with a woman's passion, a woman's need. They'd been dating for three weeks; had just become lovers, a scant hour ago. They stood in the middle of her pink and girlish bedroom partially-clothed with the spots of her innocence sprinkled on her flowered sheets, and an ache between her legs that matched the one in her heart, every time she looked up into his loving eyes. She was his first. He was hers. And that also seemed to be Fate...

"Marry me. I'm not kidding, Mevvie. I don't want to leave you behind when I go back East to college. I want you with me. I HAVE to have you with me... please, just say you will, say you'll marry me." His eyes pleaded with her, his arms tightened around her. His need overtook her and her carefully-stacked sensibility, making her head spin.

Maeve rested against his shoulder, her voice a broken murmur. "My parents would never let me, Will. Even if by some chance my mother did, Papa would never let me go. He loves you like his own son, but he'd never let me go with you. Not until we're both older. Not until we're through with college." Her words hurt her, cut her with their ring of truth. And she bled just as much from their utterance as she'd bled from the giving of her virginity. She wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed into his chest, tears soaking the sparse hair that lay soft as silk under her cheek.

Will slipped a hand into her dark satiny curls, held her head against him. He wanted to cry, wanted to scream. Wanted to tell her parents that they had no control over their daughter's life. Over their lives together. He could take care of her, he knew he could. He would protect her, love her, forever - give her children. Give them grandchildren... And he also knew his own folks would not accept his urgency even though he knew they'd understand and acknowledge his love and his need.

Shit, Hell! He adored her. He'd never survive without her; there had to be a way... He had to go to college; his folks would never let him just graduate and go find a job someplace. His arms tightened around his Mevvie as he churned the dilemma through his numbed mind. He'd taken her innocence and had in turn given his to her. That alone bound them together in a way even a wedding ring couldn't match. They belonged to each other. He'd learned the mysteries of a woman, in her arms. Had discovered the feel of a female, the way she smelled when she was trembling and excited, the way her damp center paved the way for his entry, his tender intrusion. He'd learned her taste, the dark flavor between her legs, the lighter and just-as-sweet taste of her neck and that soft spot of skin beneath her hair. He'd touched her in a place nobody had ever touched before, had taken her hand and wrapped her small fingers around him, when he swelled and hardened with the force of his need. He'd found his way inside her, had learned the rhythm of the dance, had shuddered in her arms - had swallowed her cry of pain and wonder when in his quest to learn her he broke through her barrier and found the very soul of her.

She belonged to him. Maybe she'd always belonged, from the time they were small children and their parents got together for those short and sporadic visits. Fate... he was a firm believer in it. Now all he had to do was convince her...

"Mevvie, listen. You may think we've only really known each other for a few weeks but I say we have been together since before both of us were born." The conviction in his voice was strong, and Maeve gaped at him.

"Will..."

Her protest was cut off by the hard kiss he pressed into her half-open mouth, and the earnest gaze of him, when he rushed on, "No, listen! It's true! Mevvie, I'm eighteen years old and I have only dated a few girls and I never even kissed anyone with my mouth open until you! I never wanted to. I never cared enough, to - you had to be the first. MY first. All of it, all the firsts, they had to be with you." He locked her eyes with his. "Your parents made you for me, Mevvie. Just as my folks made me, knowing that someday they'd give me to you. Our parents created us, with their love... knowing that someday we'd find each other, and in turn fall in love."

Her eyes teared up at the utter sweetness of the conviction she heard in his voice. She sighed shakily as his hands framed her face and his lips feathered over her mouth, as he added, "We exist because your mom and dad fell in love and made you. Because my folks fell in love, and made me. For each other, Mevvie. We've been meant for each other since the day we were born."

How could she fight against that kind of logic? It was beyond her. It was stronger than she was, it was sure and final and as definite as could be... and suddenly she wanted it. All of it. She wanted him, forever... him.

But still, she worried. "Will... what about school?"

He was decisive. "I can go here, until you're old enough to marry. I can get my core classes out of the way and I can do that anywhere. Until your folks think we're ready. I'll start my classes, here."

Her smile was brilliant but her chin wobbled a little. "My father..."

He reassured her, "Uncle John will be okay with it. You said it yourself... he loves me. And you know what? I can't wait to start calling your mother 'Mama Mo'..."

Her watery giggle vibrated against him, and he joined in, rocking her back and forth, both of them laughing until they were giddy. She gasped out, "Mama Mo! Oh God... she'll shoot you for that! If Papa doesn't do it first!"

Will grinned down into his Mevvie's lovely face. "Papa John? Shoot his new 'son'? I think not!" Her fresh burst of giggles, upon hearing her father referred to as 'Papa John', was so sweet...

The sun lengthened the shadows in her bedroom and they reluctantly dressed themselves and stripped her bed and put on clean sheets. As they combed their hair and washed their faces and shared more tender kisses, Will Mulder thought about the kind of promise ring he'd buy for his Mevvie. He thought he might ask her mother and his mom to go with him, to pick it out - thought he'd give it to her when he announced to their parents his intention to stay in Hanover, and start college. His determination to make Mevvie his fiancee, and marry her when she was old enough. He knew they'd understand... for John and Mo Doggett loved him, almost as much as Fox and Dana Mulder - his parents - did. And his Uncle John knew the value of a love, sweeping all of the past clean and making him whole and new - because that's what he'd been lucky enough to receive the day Aunt Mo took him by the hand and gave him the gift of herself. A precious gift, given freely and happily - the same as his mother had given to his father.

And after all, they'd started it - by falling in love.

End

Author Notes:

The thought process for this fic came from two sources. The first was a desire to borrow a wonderful original character created by the equally-wonderful Meridy: her incredible Mo Dannah, lover of John Doggett. I adore Mo D., and asked Meridy if she'd let me have her for this fic. Meridy was gracious enough to agree, and she provided the sweet name for Mo's and John's daughter - Maeve, nicknamed Mevvie.

The second was a great song from one of my favorite artists: Brad Paisley's touching "Two People Fell in Love". I don't intend to quote the entire song in my notes, but I think these lines say it all:

'There ain't nothing not affected when two hearts get connected -

All there is, will be or ever was...

I'm glad your dad could not resist your mother's charms - and you

exist

All because two people fell in love.

You know, to me it's all so clear - every one of us is here -

All because two people fell in love...'

Thanks for reading! Meridy my Love, thanks for your lovely Mo Dannah, and Piper... Happiest of Birthdays!

I adore hearing from you, please email me! char@chaffin.com

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http://char.chaffin.com