A Brave New World Humility (4 of 4) by Vickie Moseley Los Cabos, Mexico January 24, 2008 Scully walked out onto the veranda and looked at the ocean's surf crashing not more than 50 yards away. The beach was still in twilight, but if she stepped onto the sand and looked behind her she would see the first signs of dawn on the purple horizon. The air was still save for the incessant thunder of the waves. It was so peaceful. Gathering her long cover-up around her legs, she curled up on one of the lounge chairs and leaned back. It was so nice, so relaxing. She'd have to figure out a way to wipe the smug look off Mulder's face when she finally admitted this was exactly what she needed. She smiled, glancing over her shoulder through the French doors to the bedroom beyond where her lover was still sprawled across the bed. The trip had been long, a flight delay in Atlanta caused by a snow storm had threatened their vacation. But eventually the storm moved on and they landed only several hours late. Instead of arriving in the light of afternoon, they were escorted to their beach cottage in the dead of night. Still, the salt air and the crashing of the waves outside their door had led to romantic thoughts and activities. She remembered falling asleep to Mulder's heartbeat under her ear and wondering how it managed to play such perfect counterpoint to the waves. She couldn't say what had awakened her, but she suspected it was that same longing that always drew her to the sea. She'd vowed to only sit there for a few minutes, just long enough to soak in the atmosphere, recharge her spirit with the energy of the pounding surf before going in back in with Mulder. Maybe she'd test his theory that it didn't matter what your physical age might be -- when on vacation a body was ready for anything. Maybe nothing too strenuous, but she had no doubt they would come up doing something enjoyable. "Hey, whatcha doin' out here?" his voice rumbled in her ear and she startled awake. "Oh, sorry," she said, stretching. He was leaning over her and she snaked her arms around his neck, dragging him down to her mouth. After a languorous kiss, he scooted her over with his hip and joined her in reclining on the lounge. She smiled at him, watching his expression. "I just -- " "Heard the surf and couldn't stay away," he said, smiling that 'I know you so well' smile of his. She leaned forward and captured his lips again. When he deepened the kiss her mind flashed on her earlier thoughts. "Want to take this back inside?" she asked in her smoky voice. "Why bother? We're alone here. It's a private beach. Let's give Google Earth a show," he purred as he found the buttons to her cover-up that was serving as both robe and impediment to his desire to get them skin-to-skin. "You certainly woke up on the frisky side," she teased as she helped him ease the soft cotton off her shoulders. "No. More. Talk." He punctuated his words with kisses. They did much more than talk and when she awoke again, pleasantly warm, she discovered the sun was now high in the sky, casting short shadows among the palms on their beach. She also discovered she was starving. "Hey, didn't you tell me on the plane that you'd be my slave while we're here?" she asked, waking him from his doze. "Then go get my breakfast." "I said 'sex slave'," he muttered with his eyes still closed. "Food is not my expertise, unless you happen to see a fast food restaurant out in all that sand." He promptly rolled over so that she was under him, effectively pinned to the lounge. "Guess I'll have to eat what's handy," she replied and took a nip at his shoulder, just inches from her nose. "OK, OK, none of that. I suppose this means we have to get dressed," he sighed. "Unless you happened to book us into a nudist colony," she quipped as he slowly moved off her, tickling her side till she squeaked. She grabbed for him, but he was already halfway to the bedroom. She found her cover-up and pulled it on. When she entered their cottage, she found her beloved in the tiny efficiency kitchen, still glorious naked, shining her a bright morning moon as he leaned into the refrigerator. "Hey, Scully, they stocked the place! There's milk, fresh fruit -- oh, wow, pineapple," he exclaimed happily, pulling bags and bottles off the shelves and placing them on the counter next to him. She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Don't get frostbite in there," she warned with a grin. She opened one of the cabinets closest to her and found assorted small cereal packages and all the makings for coffee. "Here, let me handle this, you go get something on. You're making me nervous," she told him. He gave her a feral smile and stalked over to press her against the counter. "Do I scare you, little girl?" he growled playfully. "No, but you play with that thing too close to a fire and it might get burned," she purred back and gave his ass a squeeze. He yelped for effect. "You're probably right," he agreed, kissing her lightly on the nose. Scully busied herself with coffee and a light breakfast of toast and fruit. Mulder returned wearing a pair of bright red swim trunks and his running shoes. He grabbed a spear of pineapple and a sip from her cup of coffee before kissing her on the side of her mouth. "I'm going for a quick run." "Don't you want breakfast?" she asked. "I'll get some when I come back. I won't be long. Check out what we want to do today." She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. "After that," he said, wiggling his brows back at her. "I thought we might go into town, look around," she said, sipping from her cup. "Translation: shoe shopping," he replied with a pain look. "OK, but I get to pick the night's activities." She thought about that for a moment, considering everything Mulder might think to do. She raised her chin at his challenging look. "Deal," she told him. The resort arranged for a rental car to arrive at their door just before noon. Mulder had finally acquiesced to wearing a short sleeved shirt over his swim trunks and had sandals on his feet -- which he informed her was as far toward civilization as he intended to get during their stay. Scully had opted for a pair of shorts, a tee shirt and sandals. Sunglasses were standard apparel this close to the ocean. The village was straight out of a tourist brochure. A small grocery provided all the ingredients for a few days worth of dining, including a nice wine to go with dinner. A few shops down the main street spoke to the relative wealth of the tourists that frequented the village. A nice women's clothing store, an equally nice men's apparel store, two shoe shops and a jeweler were sprinkled in among the inevitable souvenir and beach shops. Scully talked Mulder out of the surf board, but couldn't dissuade him from buying her a brightly colored beach umbrella. At the end of the shopping district stood a church, shining salmon adobe in the hot sun. Scully drew in a breath and turned to Mulder. "Can we go in -- just for a moment?" she asked. He nodded and followed her into the dark church, chewing on his lip. It wasn't that he was totally uncomfortable in a church -- he just knew what was on her mind and it upset him that he couldn't shield her from the grief he'd hoped to leave in Virginia. She walked over to a side altar, one with a statue of the Virgin Mary, if he wasn't mistaken. She knelt down on the padded kneeler and after tucking a few coins in the box provided, she picked up a box of matches and reverently lit two votive candles before bowing her head in prayer. Feeling decidedly like an outsider and not wanting to intrude on her prayers, Mulder roamed the interior of the small church. It was rather pretty, and obviously centuries old judging from the workmanship of the pews and the altar. The carvings on the wall depicted Christ's last hours before the crucifixion and he was admiring the intricacies of the artistry when a hand landed on his shoulder. He spun around and was met by an older man wearing the brown robes Mulder usually associated with monks. "Very pretty, aren't they," the man said in perfect unaccented English. "Oh, I hope I didn't startle you," he added. "No, um not really. Yes, they're beautiful." Mulder looked over to where Scully was still kneeling, head bowed, deep in benediction. "We're just . . . we just stopped in . . . " "Yes, we get many visitors from the resort. It's always nice when people don't take a vacation from God just because they're on vacation," the priest said with a mild chuckle. "I'm Father Farrer, this is my parish. I have a Mass schedule for next Sunday, if you're interested." The idea that had been playing tag along his mind for the past week finally formed and Mulder smiled at the priest. "Actually, Father, I have a question about something, if you have the time." Mary's Altar The ancient words rolled off her tongue in a soft whisper. "Remember, oh most Gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to Thy protection, implored Thy help or sought Thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly unto Thee, O Virgin of Virgins, my mother; to Thee do I come, before Thee I kneel, sinful and sorrowful. Despise not my petitions but in your mercy hear and answer me." It wasn't a new prayer, being one of the first her mother had taught her as a child. It wasn't even a forgotten prayer, for she'd whispered the words every day since she placed her son in the arms of the social worker from the adoption agency. She'd prayed it over and over again, sometimes several times a day when Mulder had gone missing and then when he was returned seemingly dead. What she had learned over time was that the answers given weren't always what she wanted. Moreover, she had finally learned to live with the answers, regardless of her desires on the matter. Miracles did happen, she was sure of that. Sometimes they just took time. "Ask Your Son to bless my sweet William and his new family," she added. She smiled softly, "and bless Fox, but don't let him know I asked." Her heart clenched a little and she continued. "Take Christian into your arms as he comes to you, and please help his mother and father understand. Help me to understand." She concluded the prayer and wiped hastily at her eyes, clearing them of the unshed tears. She rose and looked around the church. Mulder apparently had gone outside. She knew he wouldn't be far, but she also knew he wasn't all that comfortable with her religion. She cast one more look at the small church, letting the peace flow over her before she headed for the overly bright sunshine of the tropical morning. He wasn't on the street and she looked around at the little shops, wondering where he had wandered. Spying one with a familiar sign painted in a window, she marveled at the prime example of a 'global economy'. Mulder had once told her there was a Starbucks on the moon. She smiled and walked over to the store, inhaling the rich smells as she pulled open the door. She walked up to the counter and ordered her usual, pleasantly surprised to find the young barista understood her mangled attempt at Spanish. Maybe 'soy latte double shot' didn't really need translation. She paid for her purchase and was just about to sit down when Mulder came through the door. "There you are," he exclaimed with a smile that seemed overly excited, given that they had only been separated for a few minutes. "I thought I'd lost you." "The town is three blocks long, Mulder. I think your investigative skills could handle that, even if they are a little rusty," she teased, but accepted his hello kiss gratefully. He placed his order and came over to the table by the window where she was seated. "Nice little town," she commented. "Yeah," he agreed absently. He took her hands in his and stroked her knuckles, lost in thought. He didn't even look up when the barista called out their order. "Earth to Mulder," she joked but frowned slightly when he looked up, startled. "Hey, you OK?" "Great. Never better," he said quickly. "Oh, that's us," he added for no one's real benefit and jumped up to retrieve their coffees. "OK, Mulder, what are you hiding?" she murmured under her breath. He came back to the table and after a quick check of the side, handed her the cup. She watched him suspiciously as he sat down and gingerly sipped his coffee. They were quiet for a few minutes, Scully regarding him closely to determine what was on Mulder's mind. She finally decided it was the stop at the church, religion had often been a sore spot between them. But when he smiled at her and tilted his head in that totally disarming manner of his, she scolded herself. Maybe he was just at loose ends having the freedom to go and do whatever he pleased. "Hey, I have a suggestion for how we can spend this evening," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Mulder -- we don't want to wear out the bed on our first day here," she teased. "I like the way you think, Doc -- but not quite what I was thinking. I saw a boat rental place just down the street." "Boat rental?" Scully couldn't hide her skepticism. "How do you say 'Dramamine' in Spanish, Mulder?" He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Not fair, Scully. I grew up on an island -- and before you go dragging up ancient history, that long ago trip to the North Atlantic was in stormy seas. C'mon -- I found out there's a little island less than a mile out. There are picnic shelters over there. We can get the makings of a picnic supper and row across to the island." "Row?" she repeated, her left eyebrow immediately joining her right in open doubt. "Yes, row. I do know how to row a boat," he said, his tone showing his wounded pride. "Mulder, out in a row boat on open water -- I'll be a lobster before we make it half a mile." "Ah, but that's why I thought we'd make it a 'dinner' picnic. The sun will be lower and not as strong. Wear your suit and that cover up you had on this morning -- you'll be fine." "You're set on this," she noted critically. "It'll be fun, I promise," he prodded. She sighed but couldn't keep the smile from her face. "This is your escapade, Mulder. I'm just the deck ornament -- all rowing is your department." "I plan to show you my manly prowess on the open water, Scully," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. She laughed in delight. "OK, I'm sold." Baja Coast Mexico 4:30 pm Scully looked up at the clear, cloudless sky with a hand cupped to her eyes. It was perfect, too wonderful for words. Dropping her gaze, she couldn't keep the smiled from her face. Mulder was stroking the oars for all he was worth, his nearly 50 year old body looking decades younger, his expression spoke of a calm contentment that she couldn't remember seeing in years -- if she'd ever witnessed it in their time together. She contemplated that as she lounged against the stern, the ocean breeze riffling her hair, the hat she'd brought discarded under her seat, next to their picnic basket and beach blanket. "Penny for your thoughts," he called over to her. "I'm just thinking -- that you look really good over there. All manly manish," she quipped. "Let's hope you think the smell of Icy Hot is sexy. I think I'm gonna be using a few jars when we get back to the cottage," he responded with a wink. The sound of a small helicopter passing overhead caused them to look up. "They give tours of the coast," Mulder commented and waved to the pilot, who dipped in response. Scully smiled and waved as well. "Want to take a ride tomorrow?" he asked. "No thanks. I've had enough rides in helicopters in the last couple of weeks. Maybe I'll just have you row me to another part of the coast," she said with a tilt of her head. "If you pull out a drum and start pounding out a rhythm, you might have a mutiny on your hands," he informed her. She laughed at him and tilted her head back. The sun was low on the horizon out over the open ocean. She could see the island they were rowing toward grow slight larger with each stroke of the oars in the water. "So, you realize we'll be rowing back in total darkness," she commented. "Who said we're coming back tonight?" he parried. "We're spending the night? Mulder -- " She stopped, all objections swept from her mind as her baser instincts caught on to his plan. They had a blanket, it was the tropics and far from cold at night. They had enough food for dinner and some left over for breakfast. And they had nothing else required of them and nowhere else they had to be. "You are a genius," she sighed. He grinned broadly and nodded once, accepting her praise. "I thought you'd see it my way. We have to have the boat back by 3 tomorrow. Until then, we get our own private island." "What if there are pirates on the island," she teased with mock concern. "I'll battle them off with my trusty oar," he assured her, which was answered by a less than ladylike snort. "Good thing I still remember a little hand to hand combat training," she muttered, knowing full well he could hear her. "That's exactly what I was counting on," he shot back with sly smile. Island off the Mexican Baja Coast 6:45 pm Mulder rolled over onto his back, licking the last of the crumbs of his dinner from his fingers. "You make a mean picnic, Doc," he said with a sigh. "Oh, yes. It took me all of five minutes, packing it in the basket," she deadpanned. "How's the back?" "Back's fine. Hands, on the other hand -- " He held out his hands, palms facing her, the raw blisters starkly evident. She took his hands and turned them up, leaning over to give each a kiss. "So, I guess you should have used the gloves, huh?" "Just had to bring that up, didn't ya?" he quipped. "Well, you did walk right into it," she admitted slyly. She threw her leg over his torso, straddling him and smiled down at him, her expression growing sultry. "Hey there, sailor. New in town?" He burst out laughing, pulling her down to rest on his chest. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, I'm lookin' for a good time. Interested?" He dragged her up so her mouth was within his reach and kissed her slowly, taking his time, sliding his tongue over her tongue and tickling the roof of her mouth. Not to be outdone, she quickly joined in the festivities. The night breeze was cooling the sweat from their bodies as they lay on the blanket, her head resting on his shoulder. He was feeling languid, liquid, and the stars blinking above their heads seemed to be shining just for them. Maybe it was finally the right time. "Scully, I have a question to ask you and I need an honest opinion," he said. "I really liked the speedos, Mulder, but the red trunks are a turn on, too," she quipped. "That wasn't exactly the question. Well, it was, but not the first question," he replied dryly. "OK, shoot," she said. "What is the question that needs an honest opinion -- like I don't give you those on a daily basis." She was smiling up at him and he could just see her in the light of the lantern they'd found on the boat. He drew in a big breath and forged ahead. "Why isn't it a good idea that we get married?" She blinked but said nothing. "I mean, Scully, if you're holding out for another guy -- hell, I understand, but if we're here, and we're not going anywhere -- " "You want to marry me, Mulder? Is that what you're proposing?" she asked quietly. He snorted, but it was more painful than humorous. "Scully. I wanted to marry you somewhere around the time we came back from Wilkesland. I think if I were completely honest with myself, maybe even before then. But I understand -- " "Mulder, there were reasons back then. Not the least was the fact that we worked together. And then there was Diana -- " "No, we aren't going there," he broke in. "You never understood that Diana was more friend than . . . whatever. She wasn't in any way, shape or form - - " He stopped talking when she put her fingers to his lips. "I thought you were proposing," she teased, the tenderness in her voice taking the edge off the jibe. "I am," he said around her fingers. "If you're considering," he added, kissing the tips of those fingers before he took them in his hand and placed them over his heart. She was quiet for a long time and under her hand she could feel his heart rate speed up. He wasn't joking, he was being completely serious this time. Looking up and seeing the blanket of stars so close they could reach out and touch them -- she understood this was what he'd been planning all day. She could not conceive of a more romantic place for a proposal. She thought long and hard for a few seconds. Images flashed before her mind -- her devastation upon finding his broken and cold body in a field. Lowering his casket into the frozen earth. The overwhelming sense of joy and completeness when he opened his eyes at the hospital and she laid her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat in time to hers. The six years of running, but at the same time, building a life together on a more solid foundation than what they'd previously shared because it was just the two of them -- no one else mattered. She realized they'd been 'married' an awfully long time. Maybe it was time to let the rest of their new world in on the secret. "Maybe," she said, clearing the tears from her throat. "Maybe it's time we did get married." She looked at his face and saw his eyes misting up. "But there better be jewelry involved," she warned him, half teasing. "Oh, there is, there is!" he assured her. "Gimme a minute." He broke free from their embrace and rolled over to his knees to dig through the small backpack where he'd carried the beach blanket. He turned around and held out a tiny velvet box. "Um, would you mind sitting up?" She laughed at the befuddled look on his face. "Sure," she consented and pushed up to a sitting position on the blanket. He crawled over to her and then knelt down so that they were almost level. It took him a moment to get the ring box open, his hands were shaking so badly. She almost took pity on him and opened the box herself, but she realized it was something he had to do. Finally, pulling the ring out of the velvet, he took her hand and looked into her eyes. "Final answer time, Scully. Will you marry me?" Tears were streaming down her face and she had to wipe them away before she could look into his eyes. "Yes, Fox Mulder, I will marry you," she answered. Now the tears were glistening in his eyes as he slid the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. The band held a one-carat diamond in a simple gold setting. The stone caught the light from the lantern and glittered as she moved her hand. She stared at it, mesmerized and then up into his face. His eyes were a thousand times more mesmerizing than the diamond. "I love you so much, Scully. I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without you in it," he choked out as he pulled her to his chest and held her tightly. She managed to wiggle around in his embrace until she could tilt her head and kiss him. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else," she told him. From that one kiss, they quickly toppled to the blanket, arms and legs entwined. Their lovemaking was gentle and tender and both were fighting sleep while their bodies cooled in the soft breeze. Mulder wiggled around a bit and soon they were covered by half the beach blanket. Scully snuggled closer into his shoulder. "So, when?" she asked, around a yawn. "The wedding? I was thinking about that," Mulder whispered into her hair. "If we wait till we get home -- " "My mom will turn it into Camelot, complete with horse drawn carriage," Scully sighed. "I would really rather avoid that, to be perfectly honest." "I asked Father Farrer . . . " At her perplexed look, he explained. "The priest at the church today. He said we could get married here, if you want." "You talked to the priest about us getting married? Before you even asked me? Awful sure of yourself, weren't you?" she teased, poking him in the rib. "Let's just say I wanted to investigate some extreme possibilities," he shot back. "He said it would be the civil ceremony that would be recognized in the US, but he gave me the details of what we need to do and said he'd be happy to perform the religious ceremony, if you wanted one. Anyway, if we come back already married, it definitely would mean your mother would be pissed at us for a while -- " "But as we've learned after years of government service, Mulder, it's always easier to ask forgiveness than wait for permission." She leaned up and kissed him, then snuggled back against his shoulder. "I like the idea. The little church is beautiful." "Well, then, how about tomorrow?" he asked, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I don't know -- I'll have to see if I'm free," she answered in kind and wasn't at all surprised by the attack of his fingers on her ribs. "Oh, I just checked my schedule," she puffed through bouts of giggles. "Tomorrow is good for me." "Great," he said, pulling her head down to rest on his shoulder again. "Now, go to sleep. I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow." "You have a big day?" she challenged. "Yeah, I have to row us back, too, you know." She snickered. "Ah, don't get too worn out. I expect a wedding night." "So do I," he replied and kissed her. "Now, I repeat -- sleep." She rolled her eyes, but snuggled closer. "Love you," she whispered as she felt herself drift off. "Love you, too," he answered just before his breathing evened out and they were both fast asleep. Dulles Airport 6 days later "You ready?" Mulder asked as he pulled the last bag out of the overhead compartment. "For anything," Scully assured him, but deep inside, her stomach was a convention of angry butterflies. Going home was going to be problematic, but in their rush to leave and find their tropical retreat, many plans had been made in haste. They'd decided to turn in the rental from Mulder's accident when they'd arrived at the airport for their impromptu vacation. With one quick phone call, Scully had made arrangements with her mother for a ride upon their return. What hadn't been considered was how her mother would react to the news that the partners were now happily married -- all in one week's time. They had come back from the island, fresh for their new adventure. It had taken three days and a trip to the American Consulate up the peninsula to secure the proper documentation to marry on foreign soil. Skinner's secretary Kim Cook, who was now the administrative assistant to the Director, had been invaluable -- and promised to keep her involvement completely top secret until they revealed the news themselves. Father Farrer had performed a simple wedding at the church with two of the ladies of the parish stepping in to act as witnesses for both the civil and religious ceremonies. After all the running around, they spent the remaining two days of their now de facto honeymoon lying in the lounge at the beach house, alternately making love and sleeping as the mood fit. Never one to dream about her wedding, Scully had to admit -- it had been everything she'd ever wanted, but nothing that she'd ever expected. By the time they finished at the village civic center, the sun had been setting. Father Farrer had suggested they have a candlelight wedding and it had been more romantic than anything she could have imagined. They returned to the cottage and dined on seafood and champagne and then consummated their marriage out on the lounge under a full moon and a sky full of stars. Even after all the years, she felt like a newlywed and she loved it. Maybe there was something to be said for waiting a while, however 13 years did seem a little excessive in the 'get to know each other' department. Still, she couldn't be happier with the result. A passenger behind her cleared his throat and Scully realized she'd been standing in the aisle, daydreaming. She gave him an apologetic smile and hurried after her -- husband? She almost giggled at the thought. Mulder was her everything, but putting a name to it had always been an exercise in futility. Partner had been suitable for so long, but it really had lost much of its appeal when he'd run off to chase Russian mad scientists on his own. Husband was just such an alien concept when applied to her life mate. It would take some getting used to and with a start she realized he was probably having the same trouble thinking of her as his 'wife'. As they made it off the jetway, Mulder waited for her to catch up. Walking side by side through the rush of passengers felt so normal, she absently checked the back of her slacks for her missing service weapon. "Want me to tell her? She might take it better from me," Mulder suggested, telling her exactly where his mind was. "No, Mom is always after me for not 'fessing up', as she calls it. I better do it. But I hate to tell her in the baggage claim area. Depending on how she takes the news, we might have to make our way home without her assistance." Mulder broke into a grin and took her hand. "I have a feeling she won't be that mad, once she has a minute or two to think it through." Maggie was standing by the baggage carousel, searching the faces for her daughter. When she caught sight of Dana, her smile lit up the dingy concourse and she waved them over. "Fox, Dana! Over here," she called. She went to hug her daughter and stopped, looking down at their hands. She sighed and crossed her arms. "You just couldn't face a wedding with your brother there, could you?" she accused. Mulder chewed on his lip and glanced furtively over to the carousel. "Oh, look, our bags are up," he practically crowed and hurried over to get their luggage. "Mom, I know you're angry -- " Scully started, but at Maggie's chuckle, she frowned. "Mom?" "Sweetheart, I can't blame you. I'd like to. I'm hurt that I wasn't invited. But if I had to sit through your wedding with Bill fussing and fuming next to me, I think I might have run off to Mexico with you." She reached out her arms and Scully quickly fell into her embrace. After a moment, Maggie looked up and motioned Mulder over. "You're not getting out of this, Fox. C'mere." The group hug lasted just a minute, but it lifted a terrific burden off the newly married couples shoulders. "The car is in short term. Let's go and maybe I can convince you to stay for dinner tonight. Maybe even stay the night?" she offered. "Do Dana and I get to sleep in the same room," Mulder quipped. Maggie poked him in the ribs. "If you're quiet," she admonished. "But then, I'm a pretty heavy sleeper and the walls are pretty thick. That's why we bought the place, you know." "Mom!" Dana exclaimed. "Oh, Dana, Charlie's right. You are way too easy," Maggie giggled. "Now, tell me all about the wedding I missed. Oh, and you know we're going to have a reception for you here. Something simple, maybe a nice dinner at that Italian place you like -- what is the name?" "Bella Napoli," Mulder provided. "Yes, that's the one. They have a party room. We can coordinate it for when Bill and Tara are out this summer -- we can get started on the guest list -- " Mulder caught Scully's arm and pulled her back a step. "I thought we avoided all this by getting hitched on vacation." "You underestimate the power of a mother denied her daughter's wedding to plan. Just look at it this way -- all we have to do is show up, eat and open gifts. I won't even make you wear a tux. Piece of cake and we're out of there." "I'm holding you to that," he pouted. The end of Humility . . . to be continued later