If you've stuck with me this long, bless you!

love, sally :)

DUM SPIRO, SPERO
Part 98
 

"So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends..."

William Shakespeare, "A Midsummer Night's Dream," Act 5, Scene 1, Lines 453-454. Used without permission.
 

FROHIKE:

Martha and I sit down for a spell. I want to have a few more dances with her, but my leg is becoming very bothersome, and I need to dole out my energy judiciously at this point.

Preferably so I'll have some for when we get home.

We may not be the bride and groom, but we can still have fun. And we intend to.

Looking around the room, seeing so many faces-some familiar, some not.

Jo and Skinner share the Mashed Potato with each other. I'm shocked at what a good dancer Skinner is-I just never expected him to be the type. Jo has not done many dances-she has even more energy conservation necessary than I do-but she has done them, and she's been smiling and happy all night. We shared one dance, to 'I'll Be There,' Mariah Carey-Boyz II Men version. I actually think I prefer it to the Jackson 5 version.

I got to dance with Gizzie, who finally is dancing with Byers. She's danced a lot with her husband, but also with nearly every other male over the age of 6 months here. She even danced with Patrick Langly. Finally, an adult with an energy level to match his.

She came over to us for a moment after that one. "I got one word for that kid," she comments, a little breathlessly.

"And that is?" Martha opens her eyes.

"Ritalin."

She should talk. She's back on the dance floor before we can even answer.

Langly is sharing a dance with Luanne Russell. He's her second-favorite bust, so Renegade will tolerate her having a dance with him. He's dancing with Allison, which is hilarious. Renegade is at least 6'5" and weighs at least 240. Allison is 5-1 and 115 pounds, wringing wet. He practically lifts the tiny girl off the ground when he dances with her.

And I see that Kelly and Michael have abandoned their young charges to dance with one another.

He really does love her. I watch them, the way they look at each other, and I think about how they act with one another. There is a lot of caring between them. They look out for and defend and encourage the other.

Now, if she could just get him to pick a major, I'd sleep better at night!

Langly and Luanne share another dance, but Allison seems to want off the floor, at least for the moment. She and Renegade come and join us.

"Had to show the lady a dance with a real man," Renegade says jokingly, kissing Allison's hand and thanking her.

"Going to be around for a while?" I'm hoping Renegade will stick in town for at least a few days.

"Nah, gotta get back. We got a lot of work to do. I can do better in my own digs."

How do he and Luanne do it?

When she and Langly finish their second dance, she kisses him on the cheek and returns to Renegade.

I see how she looks at him, and he at her.

Whatever they're doing, it works for them. I don't think it'd work for me, but for them, they've sorted at least some things out.

Martha and I have so much to sort out, so much to come to terms with.

It's a terrifying idea.

But I see the faces of Renegade and Luanne, of Langly and Allison, of my son and Kelly.

Terrifying, yes, but so much love on the way.

I'm ready for the voyage.

Finally, our bride and groom come to our table and sit down with us. They look radiant, exhilirated, ecstatic, and utterly exhausted.

"So Byers? You recovered?" I ask, referring to his dental adventures.

"Never," he says, shaking his head.

"Quite a show there, buddy," I tell him, smiling.

"Frohike, you ever bring that up again, I will kill you."

But he knows I will, and I know he won't kill me.

Someone has grabbed the microphone. Don't tell me somebody brought a karaoke player.

Oh God. Here comes Elvis, a hundred times over.

And it's Mulder at the microphone.

How long before they kick us out of here?

Might be sooner than we thought if this keeps up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much," Mulder does his best Elvis imitation. Not bad, actually. "I'd like to dedicate this song to the one person who is the truth in my life. The only truth."

He signs as he speaks, and I turn to the table next to us.

A tired-looking Dana Scully sits, her younger daughter asleep in her lap. I suspect she'd like nothing better than to go home right now.

But her husband's words have come through to her, loud and clear, and she's paying attention...

And a smile breaks over her weary features.

I recognize the opening bars of "Fools Rush In." An ironic choice for a couple that took six years to admit to each other their real feelings for one another.

And as he sings it-and he's not too bad, really-he performs the piece in ASL.

I slide over to Dana Scully-Mulder. "You still going to murder him when you get home?"

"I think I'll keep my gun holstered this time. He does have his moments." Her face is transfixed, and suddenly, no one else exists in the world but the pompadoured, rhinestoned figure up front of the dance floor. And the crowd, for a few moments, is quiet and in awe of this naked expression of devotion.

The song ends, and she doesn't speak until he's left the dance floor, applause resounding and a standing ovation to boot.

She turns to me. "But if he thinks this will get him out of his vasectomy, he'd better guess again."
 

I can't even keep track of how many people we speak to. But I'm not counting numbers. Only love and good wishes.

It's finally time for this night to be over. The deejay announces the last dance.

It's Kenny G's instrumental, 'Silhouette.'

"Shall we?" I ask Martha, who takes my hand for the last dance of the night.

Langly has his face buried in his wife's shoulder, hers in his chest, as the song plays. Mulder and Dana are there, with him carrying one child and she another-Rebecca Mulder has actually gotten tired, miracles be praised. Three children and they're trying to slow dance.

And making it work, and look romantic.

Michael and Kelly are face to face, but I can see the smiles sneaking out. Luanne and Renegade embrace in their silent, concentrated fashion.

And our stars for tonight, Byers and Juliet. I've never seen Byers look so happy in my life. Not even when he married Susanne.

He was happy then, but now, he's just bursting with joy.

It's good for him. Perhaps a bit confusing, but he'll get used to it.

Martha and I are one of just dozens of couples on the dance floor-but once we face each other, we could be alone on the planet for all we know.

This has been quite a day. For all of us.

And it occurs to me, I haven't even missed my J&B. That much, anyway.

As the music ends, I suddenly feel exhaustion creep into these old bones. Martha's right. I am tired. I need to get home to bed.

Observe I did not say 'sleep.'
 

Saying good-night takes forever. Juliet's Italian relatives have no clue as to how to do the job quickly. First you say good night indoors. Then you go out to the porch. Then to the parking lot. Then you stand outside the cars. Then you talk to people as they're in their cars. Somewhere between 45 and 90 minutes later, you manage to leave.

"I think I'll spend all day tomorrow in bed," I tell Martha, as we walk towards the parking area. We've waited until most everyone has cleared out. I have no desire to wait around for cars to move while in mine.

"Is that an invitation?" She asks slyly.

"Definitely."

"Hmm...I don't have to be at work till Monday night."

She settles into me. "I am so tired, Mel. And these shoes are killing my feet."

"I know what you mean." I'll be delighted to lose my rental shoes. Langly and Michael had something there. They may have looked ridiculous, but they won't have blisters tomorrow.

Finally, there are only a few cars left, making their way towards the exit. The bride and groom have long disappeared to enter into the mystery and magic of their wedding night. (I don't care if you've done it before. It IS different when you're married). Sleeping children have been shoved into backseats by equally weary parents who will hopefully manage to stay awake until they reach their homes.

We slowly begin to make our way towards the T-Bird. My leg is aching completely.

And it was more than worth it. I'll stay in bed and keep it elevated with ice tomorrow.

Martha has already indicated she'll join me. It should be a pleasant, lazy day.

"What is that awful smell?" Martha sniffs the air around her.

"I don't smell anything."

"No, like cigarette smoke. Only really vile."

I sniff harder. Women are supposed to have a more acute sense of smell.

But it does hit my nostrils.

Foul-smelling smoke, far more irritating than from the cigarettes Allison smokes.

"I thought we were the last ones out." She looks alarmed.

"We are. Don't worry."

At least not for tonight.

THE END!

But only for Book 4. Book 5, 'Lux in Tenebris', goes into production tomorrow first thing! Come back for more fun and angst-we're all expecting you.

Love, Martha and Mel