Title: Changing Winds 
A Wrapped in the Wind story

Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com<
Disclaimer:; Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No
infringement is intended. Emma is mine, thanks.

Summary: Set in July/August 2000, Mulder and Scully discover the breadth
and depth of love and marriage...and how much it takes to change.

=-=-=-=
Wrapped in the Wind
=-=-=-=

Changing Winds

From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of a cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute. . .
Minute by minute they live.

--Yeats, "Easter 1916"

=-=-=-=

A soft breeze was stalking our bed, catlike, in the early morning heat. I
could feel the sun like a heavy hand on the sheet and our bodies, but I
ignored the warmth and closed my eyes again. I wanted to sleep in today.

Mulder stretched beside me and rolled so that his head nestled beneath my
neck, his soft hair brushing my lips. I curled up around him and smiled to
myself, hot now but somehow still comfortable.

I was glad I left the windows open last night. Our air conditioner worked
only when it wanted to and that wasn't too often. We needed to fix up a
lot of things in this place, but we were still unpacking as it was and I
didn't feel like getting up the energy to start. Work had been hectic ever
since we started taking cases again and then moving on top of that had
left me drained.

Today was definitely a sleeping in kind of day.

"How about Niagra Falls," he muttered.

I snorted, causing his head to shake against my chest. "No way."

"Just a thought," he said and moved so that his arms were wrapped around
me.

Every morning we played this game. One of us would suggest a place for our
honeymoon, which we hadn't taken and might never get the opportunity to
take, and the other one would agree or disagree. Usually, Mulder made the
suggestions and spent all day trying to sell me on the idea.

"It's nice and cool there," he added.

"Well, if they could move it into our apartment, that might be nice. But
once was get there, it would be too cold. I don't like being cold."

"It's more comfortable for you to be hot?" he asked, raising his head to
look at me.

"Yes."

"But if you're cold you can just pile on more blankets or snuggle up," he
said and shifted so that his entire body covered mine. He was grinning
lecherously and I ignored it.

"Yes but if you're hot, you can go naked," I said, knowing it would appeal
to him.

Mulder huffed and laid back down, moving off me so I could catch my breath
again.

"No Niagra?"

"No. Not at all. Boring."

He growled into my shoulder and placed a gentle kiss to my neck, teasing
my skin with his breath and eyelashes. I squirmed and blushed, still not
used to this, to Mulder's playfulness.

He must have fetl me tense because he sighed and pulled back. "Jeez,
Scully."

I closed my eyes and turned my back to him, sighing myself and trying to
push out the sick feeling in my chest. One little reaction I couldn't  
control and it went sour.

He moved and pulled me against him, his head above mine on the pillow so
that his chin was resting against the top of my head. His hand dropped
against my breasts and his legs curled up so that I was entirely wrapped
in him. It used to make me shiver, but I could deal with this better now.

"It takes time, Mulder."

He didn't answer and I knew that I'd done something to hurt him, but I
just didn't know what, or how, or how to stop it. We'd only been married
a little over three months, and a lot of that time was spent moving or on
cases or being with Emma. We had precious little time to ourselves and it
still made me jump when he touched me.

After lying in his grip for a moment, I realized that I had turned from
him and he had reached out for me. I felt ashamed for shutting off from
him, but it was like an instinct, a natural reaction that I couldn't shut
down, especially when I felt attacked and vulnerable.

I loosened his grip and turned in his arms, my eyes still closed, and
pushed against his chest. I knew, in my heart, that Mulder wouldn't hurt
me, and even if he did by accident, I wouldn't lose him. I knew that. But
my mind was telling me that human beings are irrational creatures, prone
to mood swings and disappointments and failures, and sooner or later,
Mulder was going to betray me. Somehow, someway.

It was a bitter, sad thought and I had to squeeze my eyes close to forget
it.

"Scully?"

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, his lips brushing my nose.

"I don't understand," he said, and he seemed so pathetic that I wanted to
cry. "If your family had been. . .more like mine, I might understand. But
I see you with your Mom, I see you even with your brother and I saw you
with Melissa. No fear, no uncertainty, none of this. . ."

His thumb traced my cheekbone as I sighed, then traced my lips with a
gentle sorrow that made my heart break.

"I. . .I don't know how to explain it, Mulder. But you're the only one who
touches me like this," I said.

His lips quirked and he ran his hand down my body, letting it rest at my
hip.

"And it better stay that way," he added.

I gave him a small smile back and could feel myself blushing. His words
had never before gotten to me so much, and maybe that was because I'd felt
safe in the fact that Mulder was just too focused on the X-Files, on the
truth, to ever follow up.

"But you," I continued, poking his chest. "You've always been so casual
about invading my space. From the very first. You walk too close, you lean
down so that we're nearly eye to eye, you touch me. You're very
possessive. . ."

He tilted his head on the pillow, then slid down in the bed so that I
could see his face better. He was interested, I could tell, and he was
paying attention very carefully.

"I'm not like that. I just got used to it, I guess. I like it now. . .I
just have to get used to this too. To letting myself show. . .how much. .
."

I stopped, not even sure I knew what I was saying anymore, nor how to
explain whatever I did mean. I wanted him to understand, but understand
what?

"For you, this is natural. . .just taking one step closer. For me, this is
letting everything go and not only just standing still when you step
closer, but meeting you halfway. I've never had to do that before."

I smiled crookedly at him, praying he would understand. He had to
understand.

"I see," he said, but I couldn't tell if he really did or not. "I'll just
keep stepping forward until one day, we don't have to step forward at
all."

I quirked my lips at him and ran a finger down his cheek, still amazed
that I could touch him like this and not risk everything, not be
jeopardizing our career, our partnership.

"I've spent years keeping myself from reaching out, Mulder. And partly
because, at the very beginning, you pushed me away. I don't mean that this
is your fault, but just that it's not like I don't want to touch you, to
feel you. . ."

"Old habits die hard?" 

I nodded in relief and sighed. "Yes, that's it exactly."

"I think I understand, now," he said and I could feel the warmth of his
arms through my T-shirt. Relief was spilling through me like water.

"How about Hawaii then? It's nice and warm."

I laughed and pushed on him, looking up into his eyes with teasing
admonishment.

"I can never be serious around you," I said, even though that was
magnificently not true. And we both knew it. While there were times we
could crack jokes, we were hardly ever *not* serious.
=-=-=

"If you don't shut up, Mulder, I'mm going to make you take me to Hawaii."

His eyebrows danced at me and I wrinkled my nose at him, pulling Emma out
of her high chair. She tried wriggling away as I washed her face, but I
balanced her against my right arm and swiped her clean. The pouty look in
her eyes only made me want to laugh, and she looked indignant when I did.

Mulder rinsed off the high chair tray, then wiped it down and placed it
back in its grooves. I was surprised, but I guessed we were both learning
to do new things. Only for Mulder, it was learning to clean up after
himself and others. It was refreshing.

I pulled the bib off Emma and threw it on top of the dirty clothes pile,
wrinkling my nose at her again. She liked that and tried to imitate me,
but ended up with her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut. She looked
adorable.

I tried to remember if she'd gotten a bath last night and thought maybe
not. We had picked her up from my mother's last night after coming in from
a case, and Mom usually gave her a bath in the morning after breakfast.

Well, we had all slept in a bit, so she'd get her bath after lunch today. 

As I pulled her pajamas off I realized that I did not have to keep taking
a bath with her, and probably hadn't needed to for awhile. She could sit
up on her own and if I reached, I could wash her hair just fine. It made
me just a bit sad and I filled the bathtub while Emma banged a rubber duck
against the tiles.

Mulder came in and picked Emma up while I sat on the toilet, letting the
water run over my fingers. It was warm but not hot, and I had grown used
to the lukewarm water that was only a few inches high. I had gotten used
to the smell of baby shampoo on my skin and even sometimes Mulder
wandering in.

"Aren't you getting in?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No."

He looked shocked and glanced around the room, as if looking for whatever
had made me suddenly decide to stop.

"Why?"

"Because she'll be a year old in a few days, and it's time."

"Oh."

He sat down in the floor with Emma in his lap, letting her crawl out to
inspect the edge of the rug that lay in front of the sink. She played with
the fringe and made the rubber duck peck at it with his bright orange
beak. She had a bruise on her elbow and a scratch down her leg.

I shut off the water and sat watching her for a few moments, just thinking
about how much she'd grown and just how different everything was.
Sometimes I wished to be alone, just for some quiet and calm, but usually,
I found this family strange and appealing, with love and giving and joy.

Emma knocked her head against the cabinets under the sink but didn't seem
to care. Mulder shrugged at me and smiled. I looked back and saw her pull
up against the cabinets, holding on to the handles for support, her face
in a tight mask of concentration.

At that moment, she didn't look like either of us. It was strange, because
usually I forgot she was adopted and forgot she wasn't really ours. I
could always find something in her that looked like Mulder, or even like
me. But she didn't right then.

"Are we going to tell her she's adopted?" I asked suddenly.

Mulder glanced to me, then back to Emma, then to me again. He looked
cautious.

"Uh. . .why?"

"I don't know. I just don't think about it, ever. But she deserves to know
the truth and I don't want her to feel different and alienated when she's
sixteen. . ."

Mulder smiled but I could tell he understood. "Yeah. To me, it's not
important that we adopted her. She belongs to us. But she might feel
awful if we just didn't tell her."

I sighed and drew my knees up to my chest, resting my chin there.

"We should tell her from the very beginning. Like. . .like my mom used to
talk about us."

Mulder looked back at me, questioning.

"At bedtime, we always heard stories about our family. One was about my
aunt, and how she caught her hair on fire--"

"Her hair?" Mulder looked at me incredulously.

"Yeah. Long story. That was a favorite. But, my mom also told us stories
about the day we were born. Each one of us. I know Bill's story and
Melissa's and mine and Charlie's. If we did that for Emma, it would be
like a story. . ."

"You mean, instead of fairy tales, we tell her true stories?"

I smiled. "Well, since you love fairy tales, Mulder. . ."

He grabbed my ankles and tugged my feet back down, pulling me down into
his arms. I tumbled from the toilet and landed in his lap, laughing.

"I think it's a great idea. It makes it special."

I smiled brightly, watching Emma shift from foot to foot, almost like she
didn't know where to go next. She was still standing, her fingers curled
around the handles of the cabinets like lifelines.

"Emma."

She looked over at me, then grinned.

"Good job, Emma."

Her hands released the doors and pressed flat against the wood. I pulled
out of Mulder's arms, afraid she would stumble and fall against the
cabinets, but she rocked backwards and sat down hard.

I looked at her and she looked at me and for a second I couldn't tell if
she was going to cry or not.

And then she smiled, slowly and mischeviously, her eyes dancing. She
looked like Mulder.

I laughed and pulled her up.

"Bath, Emma-jean."

Mulder stayed and played with her in the tub, making up stories between
good and evil and making Emma's rubber duck the hero of it all. Emma
couldn't have possibly understood, but Mulder and I were having fun.
=-=-=
=-=-=
=-=-=

"Should we wrap them?"

Mulder glanced over to me with confusion on his face as he held up the
soft Elmo doll. He was trying very hard to participate in the whole
birthday thing, but he wasn't sure how to go about a birthday for a one
year old.

Frankly, I wasn't sure either.

"Sure," I said and shrugged. "Maybe she'll have fun ripping the paper
off."

"If she's anything like you. . ." he muttered and I swatted his arm.

He huffed at me. "Jeez, Scully. You get violent when a guy really gets to
know you."

"Exactly. Just watch it, mister."

But his eyes were laughing and mine were too and he grabbed my elbows and
danced me closer to him, so that I stumbled into him and had to cling to
his arms for balance.

I laughed as he made faces at me, and his eyes lit in triumph, his grin
like a banner of his joy, and I had a hard time playing at being mad at
him. Instead, I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed his chin, as high as I
could get in bare feet.

He smiled and ducked down to let me kiss him right, and his lips were soft
and waiting and expectant. For once he didn't take control and I could
just explore the sensation of kissing Mulder and wanting to kiss Mulder.

When we parted, his eyes were just as soft as his mouth had been, and he
looked like he wanted to cry or shout or maybe both.

"Thank you," he said and I felt ridiculously happy for making him that
grateful and also shockingly guilty for making him grateful about
something he had a right to anyway.

His fingers curled at my back and I leaned against his chest for a moment,
listening to his heart beat and his blood rushing through his veins.

"I have to admit, Scully. . .I never imagined it could be this good."

That quieted me even more and I slipped my eyes shut to keep from thinking
too much.

"Why not?"

"Because I know me. I just didn't realize the extent to which I could fall
in love with you. . .or the extent to which you could fall in love with
me."

I smiled at that, but still felt that stain of sorrow in me. That he could
have dreamed at times, alone at night, and it never got this good. And
this wasn't even that great right now, and I knew it could get better.

"You'd be surprised how lovable you can be Mulder."

I switched to humor because I didn't know how else to comfort, and it
seemed I picked right, because he sort of laughed and pushed away from me,
grabbing the Elmo aagain.

"Back to wrapping."

"Sure. Can you wrap, Mulder?"

He looked mock-offended and shook his head at me.

"Of all the nerve. I can wrap better than you can."

And with that, we had a little wrapping war while Emma napped.
=-=-=

We were sitting in the floor of my mother's living room, Mulder leaning
against the couch and me leaning against Mulder. His arms were loosely
around my waist and he had one leg curled in around my butt. It felt good
to have him nearly wrapped around me, and my brother had only shot us two
dirty looks.

Emma was in the middle of all the attention, smiling and looking gorgeous
in her dark green corduroy jumper and pink T-shirt. My mother was trying
to play with her before we brought out cake and presents, and Charles was
trying to keep his youngest from eating the plant beside the couch.

The warmth of babies and love and parents was thick in my mother's house,
with Bill and Tara and Matthew, then Charles and his wife, Carrie, and
their three kids, one who was younger than Emma. Mulder and I were content
to watch it all, content to hold and be held.

Emma glanced toward us and gave us one of those hesitant smiles, as if she
wasn't sure what was going on but she thought she was enjoying it. She
loved all the people, loved being the center of attention; her dark eyes
sparkled at my  mother and the kids gathered around her. Kids can smell
presents coming from a mile away, I'm convinced.

My mom glanced over at me and I reluctantly got up and followed her into
the kitchen, missing Mulder's arms for a moment.

"I'll get the cake, Dana, and you grab all the gifts."

I was impressed by the pile and even more impressed that my brothers had
wanted to give Emma anything. She was only turning one, and she. . .well,
I didn't expect them to want to be involved. Bill hated Mulder with a
passion but Charlie couldn't have cared less about it.

Charlie was kind of out of it a lot. He lived in a thousand different
places in a year and he never got news until it was almost obsolete. I
felt bad for his kids, because I knew what moving around was like, but his
whole family seemed to thrive on moving. It was nuts.

I grabbed the gifts, thankful that Mulder and I brought big plastic bags
to haul everything inside. When we got to the living room, Emma was
already wide-eyed and watching the cake. She saw me and her eyes lit up
even more, her hands clapped and she scooted forward.

My Mom had lit the candles on the cake, which I don't think I would have
done, but Emma just stared at the fire and didn't even move. Mulder was
trying to get her to blow on them, but she looked incredibly confused and
Charlie was laughing while Carrie poked him into silence.

I couldn't help smiling, but I didn't laugh, sure that might upset Emma.
She looked caught somewhere between crying and laughing and so I just
watched, impressed with Mulder and his handling of her.

Finally, she stretched her neck and closed her eyes really tightly, like
she was afraid to even move. I could see her breathe on the candles and
Mulder quickly blew them out, applauding her.

Emma's eyes opened and she glanced in surprise to the extinguished
candles, then up at me. 

"Good job, Emma," I said and sat down next to her, clearing room from the
kids hanging around. The presents were at her side and she slid a look
towards them, then back at me.

My mom was laughing and asking who wanted birthday cake, so I waited to
give Emma her gifts until she got back. It took about ten minutes to get
everyone eating and then Mulder decided he'd have a piece, which he tried
to share with me but I just don't like cake that much.

Instead, he fed a piece to Emma, who reached out for the rest of the cake
and grabbed at it, getting frosting all squished between her fingers. I
was already laughing when she reached for Mulder again, who was lying on
the floor next to her, and smeared it in his hair and across his lips,
then in her own hair, glancing at me as I nearly choked on tears.

Mulder glared at me for a moment, but he looked amused more, I guess, and
then he reached out and grabbed me.

In that instant, my panic and laughter all mixed in one and I stared at
him, everything in slow motion until he had his lips inches from mine.
Then it was a rush. His lips, the frosting pushing past my teeth and into
my mouth, feeling the cake on my cheeks, Emma's hands reaching up to pat
my forehead.

I pushed away and felt frosting all in my mouth and along my cheeks and
near my hairline. Emma was grinning like I was her work of art and Mulder
had a self-satisfied smirk on.

I glanced to my mom, at a loss for words, and she was laughing and
everyone else was laughing.

Mulder stood up, grabbing Emma, and reached for my hand.

"I suppose we should clean up before she gets the carpet messy."

He pulled me up and we headed for the bathroom, leaving the living room
filled with laughter and my mom trying to pass out ice cream to go with
the cake. I sighed in relief, glad Emma had missed out on the ice cream.

As I used a washcloth to wipe at Emma's hands and face and hair, Mulder
used his fingers to swipe frosting from my cheeks and lips. Emma
constantly bucked and moved, twisting on the counter, nearly falling into
the sink. I grew frustrated and snapped at Mulder to stop touching me, and
it got very quiet in the little bathroom.

I sighed and scrubbed Emma's face, feeling Mulder beside me, dark and
ominous and silent. I knew if I turned to look at him he would seem stoic,
his face a mask of bland unimportance, but his eyes would be churning. I
didn't want to apologize but I knew I had to.

"I'm sorry," I sighed and glanced only once back to him. I didn't like the
look he was giving me and I hated seeing him so far away, as if I'd
slapped him and he was blinking away tears.

Emma was cleaned up pretty quickly and I turned to Mulder, setting our
daughter on the floor. I glanced around for trash or anything else on her
level, but the floor was clean and I didn't even see a garbage can.

I focused on Mulder again and ran my thumb across his cheek, biting my lip
because I had hurt him by snapping and wishing it didn't have to
constantly be this reaffirmation of feelings that were definite to me but
shaky for him.

He took my hands in his and shook his head. "I understand, Scully."

He leaned forward until my forehead was pressed against his chin, his lips
kissing the top of my head and his hands pushing mine to rest against his
chest.

"Do you, Mulder?"

He leaned back and his lips quirked at the sight of me trying to be
serious with frosting all over my face. I smiled back at him and he took
the washcloth from my fingers and ran it gently across my lips. I let him
clean me up and then did the same for him, sure that he couldn't possibly
understand.

Then he reached down and picked up Emma, who had resorted to chewing on
her fingers for the last taste of frosting and sitting on my feet, which
made it rather difficult to move. Mulder shifted her in his arms and
tugged her jumper down, smoothing it and flicking off crumbs of cake.

"I do understand, Scully," he said and wouldn't look at me. "I understand
that sometimes we're going to be short with each other. And I understand
that doesn't mean we don't love each other anymore. I really do. But I
can't stop myself from feeling this way when it happens."

I sighed and leaned my cheek against Emma's leg, running my hands around
Mulder's waist. He held me tightly for a moment, as if he could crush me
into his side and keep me there permanently. If I had anything to say
about it, I'd stay right there, forever by his side.

"Let's get back to Emma's birthday party," I said and kissed his chest. It
was funny how I couldn't even reach his chin without standing on my
tiptoes a little bit.

We opened the door and walked back into the living room, a family.
=-=-=-=

end
adios
RM