Classification: TRHA

Rating: NC-17. Grownup stuff. Not for the kiddies.

Summary: The X-files are open again. Scully and Mulder await their child's birth. Langly & Allison have done the nasty. More to come...

Disclaimer: Property of Fox Television and 1013 Productions. You don't seriously think I'm making money off this, do you?
 

"Now I'm gonna walk with the night
Talk to the angels above
Walk with the night
Describe this phantasm of love..."

"Walk With the Night" by Jimmie O'Neill, Copyright 1988 BMG/Used without permission.

July 8, 1999
Allison's townhouse

It was nearly 10:00 a.m. when the phone arose me out of a stupor. Fortunately, the handsome blonde sleeping next to me didn't stir.

"Yeah?" I mumbled into the phone, still not in the realm of consciousness.

"Ally, it's Emma." My sister-in-law.

"Hey, Emma, what's going on?"

"Did I wake you?"

"Had to get up anyway."

"Ally, please forgive me for this--"

"For what, Em? You haven't done anything."

"Ally, we buried Dad yesterday."

"Say what?"

"He went to sleep the other night, and he never woke up. Ally, I knew if I called you, you would come, and as much as I appreciate that, you've been through a lot, and I know it costs you a fortune to fly and you really can't take the time off from your job."

"Em, I'm so sorry about Dad." I could feel the tears prickle my eyes. I didn't say that I had actually expected him not to last much longer, but I think Emma was thinking the same thing.

"Ally, it was going to happen, and sooner than later. Dad knows you would have been there. That's what mattered to him. Wherever you say Kaddish will be fine with him." She was choking on a sob.

"Do you need some help with getting stuff in order?" I asked her.

"You really can't take the time--"

"Actually, Em, I lost my job two days ago. I got laid off."

"You're kidding! And after they just about forcibly dragged you there!"

"Well, I don't know the whole story behind it. I hope I find out soon. In the meantime, I've got some prospects."

"Well, tell you what. Don't come yet. Let me deal with as much of this as I can. I'll let you know if I have any problems."

"Where are you going to go after the house is sold?" I asked.

"That's something I wanted to talk to you and Lydia about, but let's sit on that for today. I've got my hands full as is."

"I really appreciate you calling, Em. Call me tomorrow."

"I will."

***

I pulled on a loose white shirt and a pair of undies; putting on clothing was still agony. Needless to say, I hadn't spent a lot of time away from the house since I got back from the Gunmen yesterday.

Langly had made his contribution to the current issue of their magazine and had appeared at my house around 1:00 a.m. He was peeling and blistered and still in pain. When I say we slept together, that's exactly what we did last night.

I put on the coffee, fed the cats and the dog, waited for the coffee to finish perking, filled two mugs and trucked back upstairs.

"Hey." A muffled voice from the pillow.

"Hey yourself. You among the living?"

"How could I be dead? It wouldn't hurt this much." He raised himself up slowly. "It's getting better, I think." He took the coffee. "Thanks." Sipped. Carefully. "How about you?"

"Not as bad. I have clothes on, as you can see."

"You call those clothes? I could get those off you in a heartbeat."

"Hey, this is the most I've worn since I got back here yesterday." I took a good sip of coffee. "Langly. I've got another dead relative. My father-in-law died Tuesday."

"You going to the Coast again?"

"Nope. He's been buried already. Remember, it's the Jewish thing. I love my father-in-law dearly, but tell the truth, I'm relieved that I don't have to go." Another sip. "I should go to temple sometime, to say Kaddish for him, because he'd appreciate that. I mean, you can say it anywhere, but temple was really important to him.

"Guess you're gonna have to tell Miranda when she gets back."

"Yeah." This was not going to be good.

"So what are we gonna tell her about us?"

"Langly, we're going to tell her the truth. We're going to tell her we're sleeping together, because we are. It's not like we could fool her for very long." Considering she knew even before I did that we would be, I doubt we'd have to say very much when she returned from her camping trip.

"How do you think she'll take it?"

"Well, she likes you a lot..."

"Yeah, but she likes me as her bud. Not the same thing as her mom's lover." The sound of that made me warm all over. Lovers. Yeah.

"We'll just tell her and take it from there."

He sunk back into the pillows. "Ally, can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away."

"Was this yours and Eric's bed?"

"Nope. This was our guest bed. I couldn't bring myself to put up our old bed. It was way too big to sleep alone in...and it was our bed, not mine. This one was, shall we say, more neutral territory."

"Ah. Okay." He seemed relieved about that. "Just wondering."

The phone rang again, and I reached for it on my night table.

"Hello, Ms. Gerstein?"

"I am she."

"This is Joanna Gilfillan, Disability Services Director in Charge of Deaf Students at Catholic University."

"How are you?" I mouthed the caller's name to Langly.

"I'm fine. I received a copy of your resume...how did you hear of the position?"

"Uh...through word of mouth."

"Yes, I guess Deaf Services is a small world. Anyway, I am very interested in talking to you, and I was wondering if we could set up an interview?"

"Uh...yes, that would be great. What's convenient for you?"

"I will be out of town on Thursday and Friday, but I thought perhaps Monday, 10:00?"

"That sounds great."

She gave me directions to her office, instructed me where to park, and I hung up feeling a lot more relieved...

"Shit!" I yelled.

"What's the problem? You got an interview. You've probably bagged the job already."

"Monday's your birthday!"

"Yeah, well, tell you what. Miranda gets home when, Sunday night?"

"Yeah."

"So we do nasty grownup type things on Sunday till she gets home. Then Monday, she can treat me to a day at Kings Dominion. She says you hate those places."

"Considering that I puke on everything, yes."

"Well, Miranda and me, we love 'em, so we're going. Give us a chance to talk about stuff."

I was wondering how much she would be in the mood to do a day of thrill rides at an amusement park, after a week of camping and being forced to deal with some new issues in her life, but she'd probably go for it. She could always sleep on Tuesday.

Fucking phone! It was ringing again.

"Let me talk to LoverBoy there." It was Frohike. I handed Langly the phone.

I covered the mouthpiece. "It's Frohike, and he's not sounding too happy."

"Yeah, what's up?" Pause. "Hey, I'll be back soon." "Hey, last time I checked I'd reached the age of majority." "Frohike, quit acting like my mother." "So?" "Okay. Bye." He clicked off the talk button. "Jesus."

"Didn't you tell Frohike where you were headed?"

"It's not that." He shook his head. "I think Frohike's jealous."

"Of what?"

"Ally, you are so amazingly good-natured, don't you realize not everyone's as cool as you?"

"Hey, let's not get the idea I don't get pissed off, jealous and just plain depressed sometimes."

"Okay. Granted. Frohike's...I told you Frohike was married before?"

"Yeah, you did."

"Well...first it was Mulder and Scully, and now it's us."

"But it's not like we're trying to hurt him or something."

"Ally, you are so sweetly clueless sometimes."

"Well, I've had a pretty sheltered life."

"And it shows. Hey, we have something that Frohike would like more than anything else in the world...he's not coping too well with this."

"So give him some time. He'll deal."

"Hope so, because he's a real pain in the ass right now." He shifted his weight up on one arm. "God, has it been 48 hours yet? Because if I don't take a shower soon, I'm gonna scare myself." We'd both been told not to shower for 48 hours to give the skin time to heal up, and then to still treat it gently, no soap or perfumed stuff. I couldn't take it, though. I'd gone ahead and showered after not quite 24.

"Just be careful, I did it, I didn't die. Don't let the water get too warm."

He pulled himself out of bed. "So are you gonna join me or not?"

***

"This is pretty nice, really." He and I were facing each other, and with cool water running over us, we could embrace full length and not screech in pain. I could feel myself becoming very aroused, and he was obviously conscious of it as well, because he started responding. The only problem was that he had nearly a foot of height on me, which meant that he had to
bend down to kiss me and I had to stand on my tiptoes.

"God, you're tiny," he commented for about the thousandth time. "I love
it."

"Never had a small woman before?" I asked impishly.

"Not like this. You definitely qualify as a little one. But perfect," he hastened to add.

I was admiring him as well. His skin was fading to a deep pink instead of the angry vermillion it had been, and it made the blonde hairs on his arms and legs and chest show very white. His nose had begun to peel and was showing some freckles, which were absolutely adorable.

"Didn't know you freckled," I commented to him, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Used to. I don't get outside a whole lot anymore." He traced a finger over my shoulder, which was still very sore, but he was very tender, and I didn't want him to stop. "I notice you've got more on your shoulders and your back than on your face."

"For a redhead, I don't have that many. Though after this, I may be sporting a whole new crop."

"You're just as blonde as you are red," he observed. "You're way lighter than Scully or Byers."

"The red's my mother's legacy. My dad was blonde." I took a tendril of his platinum hair. "Which one of yours had the blonde hair?"

"Both. Blonde hair, blue eyes, both sides. Scottish and English."

"My mother's family is Ukrainian, my dad's is Austrian. My married name is Russian."

"You gonna keep your married name?"

"Unless I get married again. Then I'll take my new husband's name." He looked a bit surprised. I was equally surprised that I had even said it.

"Wow. Not a sentiment you hear in DC a lot."

"Well, I am pretty traditional. And it's a tradition I like."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I like the idea of solidarity with someone."

"You don't see it like a compromise to your identity or something like that?"

"No, I don't. I may be Jewish by tradition and upbringing, but I think I'm mostly an existentialist, and I think we're all connected...you know, the 'no man is an island' thing. I don't think anybody stands alone. Even if you choose to, it's still because you've been influenced by everything and everyone in your world." I wrapped my arms around his waist, very gently, and pressed my face lightly into his chest.

"I think you can be really alone in the world."

"Didn't say you couldn't. You can feel really isolated, but you didn't get there on your own, that's all I'm saying."

"We gotta put you and Mulder in the same room and let you have this discussion. It'd be pretty amusing."

"You know, I like Mulder, he's a sweetheart, but I still don't feel like I know him very well."

"Nobody knows Mulder very well. 'Cept maybe Scully. And I bet there's stuff she doesn't even know."

"How well do you know him?"

"Mulder? I've know Mulder for about 8 years now. And I know a lot about him, but do I know him? I'm not sure." He wrapped his arms around my shoulders gently. "I think Frohike knows him best, but...hey, we're guys. We don't talk about this stuff."

I started fluttering my mouth over his chest, and he gave a gasp. "Oh God that's good don't stop don't stop..." He buried his face in my hair and pulled me into him.

I knelt down and began to smooth my mouth over his now very prominent erection. When he said he was burnt everywhere, he wasn't kidding, so I used a very light touch. I rubbed my breasts against him; I was aching with desire by now.

"In me. In me. In meinmeinmeinme," I begged hoarsely.

In view of the difference in our height, it was a bit awkward at first, but it also allowed me to feel every inch of him sliding up into me, slowly and carefully at first. I couldn't hold out much longer. Every cell was alive with the sensation of him invading my body, in it, around it, through it, over it, under it...every preposition you can think of, it was there.

I cried out as he carried me over the edge, and then he exploded inside me, love and semen spilling all over my insides. I leaned into him, trying to catch my breath, and listened to his heart try to return to its normal slow, easy rhythm.

"Langly?"

"Mmm."

"We're waterlogged."

***

I think when they said we could start taking showers again, they meant long enough to get cleaned up.

"God, we're going to have no skin left if we keep this up," he said, looking over our pruned hands and feet.

"And that would truly be a drag," I concurred. "How's the burn?"

"Better, actually. I think the water helped. The company didn't hurt, either." He smiled wickedly.

"Okay, where's all the glop we're supposed to be smearing on?"

"I didn't bring mine. Use some of yours?"

"Sure, okay." He laid face down on the bed, and I picked up the tube of antibiotic ointment first, squeezed a ribbon of it into my hand, and smoothed it over his back. He murmured something that sounded appreciative. I finished applying it to the back side of him, told him to flip over, and applied it to the front. Then I started on the Water-Jel.

"Mmm. This is great," he murmured sleepily.

"Don't doze off there. It's my turn after this," I reminded him, bending over to kiss that mane of damp hair.

"You'll get yours, don't worry."

And then he fell asleep.

***

A long cool shower mixed with some very hot sex had made me feel a lot better. It was time to put some clothes on.

I rummaged through my closet and checked out the summer dresses that weren't in the laundry. There was one in navy, purple and white batik that I really loved but didn't wear to work because of the spaghetti straps and low back and front. Well, I wasn't working today. It had a long flowing skirt and it was lightweight cotton. Very comfortable for a hot, muggy day in
northern Virginia.

Langly looked about ten years old, curled up on my bed, a fist pressed against his cheek. He was breathing slowly, peacefully. I covered him with the spare blanket again and let him doze. Even if he had reneged on his promise to put the prescription glop on me, he looked too adorable to be annoyed at.

I plugged in the curling iron, toweled off the remaining water in my hair, and started to do some corkscrews. The process made me look like little orphan Annie, but I remembered the look I got from Langly on Dana and Mulder's wedding day...and I figured I wouldn't mind seeing it again. Oh, the things we do for love.

Half an hour later, I had the effect I wanted, or at least as close to it as I could hope to get without Miranda's expert touch. I combed out and fluffed the waves, pulled it back, formed the tendrils against the sides of my face, and...I still had the ribbon I wore in my hair that day. It wasn't quite the right shade of blue for this dress, but so what. It would do. Some lip gloss, a pair of sandals, and I was feeling pretty damn human.

When I emerged from the bathroom, there were two open blue eyes blinking at me from the bed.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

He raised himself on one elbow.

"Come here--whoa. You look killer." He touched the curls in my hair. "I think I warned you what would happen if you did your hair like that." He put his glasses, which had been on the night table, and looked me over admiringly. "Awesome. You know what I like about you?"

"Other than my ability to make you come easily and reliably?" I teased.

"Okay, that too. But what I really like is that you dress like a girl. Shoot me for being a chauvinist pig, but I like women who aren't afraid to look like, you know, women." He ran his long, narrow fingers over the top of my hand, which was doing things to me that shouldn't happen in any public arena. "Women in this town, it's like they're trying to look as sexless as possible. I mean, look at Scully. She's really pretty, but she dresses in those really geeky looking suits and stuff. When she's got on real clothes, you know, jeans or a dress or something, she's really gorgeous."

"I don't even own a suit," I admitted.

"God, and the FBI actually hired you."

"Well, they laid me off, too." I lowered my eyes off of his face for a moment and studied my well-chewed cuticles and nails. "Which means that I am probably looking at a lot less income."

"How much less?"

"We're talking about half of what I would make with the Fibbies."

"Ouch. But think about it. How much do you need?"

"Well, for one thing, I really need a bigger place to live."

"Why?"

"Have you noticed that when Miranda, the cats, the dog, and you and I are all here, you can't move in the living room?"

"So? You can't move anywhere in the offices."

"That's true. But half my stuff is in storage, and the place is packed wall to wall already."

"Maybe you've got too much stuff."

"A distinct possibility. Right now, I'm not going to be going anywhere until I have a better grip on my financial prospects. I have about a year and a half until I have to either buy a house or pay the capital gains piper."

"That's right, you're a taxpayer."

"Yeah, happens to the best of us."

"And hitting on Mom is out of the question."

"Hitting on Mother is definitely out of the question."

"Yeah, hitting on mine was something you didn't do either."

"Is your mom still around?"

"Nope." That sounded like the subject was closed, and I didn't pursue it.

"So, Langly?"

"Mmm?" He was clasping my hands in his.

"You were planning to get out of bed today, weren't you?"

"Planning, yeah. Wanting, no way."
 

END OF PART 10