TITLE: "The Joys of Boys..." 
BY: Ten
E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au

CATEGORY: V; MT; MSR; some angst; some H
RATING: R for fairly non-descriptive, consensual adult
situations
SUMMARY: A household of three young boys is chaos enough,
but add three cousins to the mix and then pull Scully out
of the picture when work calls... Can Mulder survive?
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: This is set in Macspooky and my
"Daniel/Couch" series. It can be read as a standalone:
This series and universe diverted from the show after the
events of "Emily" in the fifth season. Mulder and Scully
have bred and wed, then bred some more. A few aspects of
the following seasons are kept, but not many.

The usual sexual endurance disclaimer still applies here.
Namely: The sexual endurance of this Mulder has been
enhanced for the pleasure of Scully and the readers - and
the writer. Don't expect this at home. We don't want to
cause any unrealistic expectations re: males of around
this age, but hey, it's nice to dream!

ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be
archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer
stay intact.
FEEDBACK: Always great to know who's out there in the
ether!
THANKS TO: Sally, Judie, Suzanne, Debbie, Mac, Gerry and
Sheila. For plot, medical and child advice!
DEDICATED TO: Sally - see author's notes at end.

My website for all my X-Files fanfiction (including all
the Couch series), thanks to the wonderful Skyfox, is at
http://tenxffic.tripod.com
With a mirror site at:
http://homex.coolconnect.com/member3/tenxffic/

DISCLAIMER: The X-Files, the episodes referred to, Mulder
and Scully and all other characters from the show belong
to Chris Carter, the writers of the episodes, Ten
Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting, and are used
without permission. No copyright infringement is
intended, no profit will be gained. Characters not
recognised from the show are mine or Mac's.


The X-Files: "The Joys of Boys" 
By Ten, 14 April 2001 - 19 June 2001

xXx

PROLOGUE:

Late February 1999
Mulder apartment

Soft singing woke Mulder. He opened his eyes and saw his
wife. She was holding their eight week-old son as she got
up from the rocking chair that was perfectly situated
between the bed and the cradle. Still singing, Dana
kissed the now-sleeping Danny and tucked him in his
cradle. Rearranging the front of her nightgown, she came
back to the bed. "Ah, NOW you're awake."

"I missed the feed?" Mulder asked sleepily. "Must have
been in my hour of dead sleep."

"You usually are when he needs changing." She slid back
into bed, into her husband's arms. "But after the session
we had a few hours ago, I might find it in my heart to
forgive you."

"I'll get up next time, I swear." Mulder toyed with the
buttons of her nightie, debating whether or not to undo
them and instigate further fun or whether she was too
tired. He tried to gauge her mood in the light of the
lamp, which she had yet to turn off. "You seem amused."

"Just pondering men. How you can act just like babies."

He halted, his thumb on a button. "'You' as in me, or
maledom in general? And how so? The breast fixation
thing?"

"Take you for example." She poked his bare chest. "A
prime example. The minute your needs are met, you zap off
to sleep, just like your son."

"Different needs."

"Same result."

"Not ALL the time. And when I do, it's because *you* wear
me out! And it's not like I deliberately crash. If you
want to assign blame, it's all oxytocin's fault." She
made a sound about as close as a lady could get to a
snort of derision. Mulder pressed on. "You know that
better than I do - you're the scientist! It's proven
fact." Oxytocin was a hormone that bonded men and women,
as well as mothers with babies. A hormone at its peak
during orgasm, it ensured a good night's sleep. More so
in men than women.

"You expect that to validate the male race?"

He tried a schmooze routine instead. "You're so sexy when
you're scientific. Lovely when you're logical."

"Shut up and put that mouth to better use."

"Just show me where..."

xXx

January 2006
Mulder residence
Friday night

The music issuing from the stereo was almost loud enough
to cover the cumulative cries of pleasure coming from the
couch in the sitting room. Not from the couch itself, per
se, but from one of the two people on it.

Since their three sons and the dog were staying overnight
at Grandma Scully's, Fox and Dana were making the most of
having the whole house to themselves. They were alone
apart from the cats, who were staying out of the way, and
the hamster, who was safely stored in Daniel's room.

And tonight was a trade off for Saturday night, when they
would have not only their children and the dog back in
the house, but Matthew Scully and two other cousins on
the Scully side - grandchildren of Maggie's sister -
Steven, nine and Ben, ten years old.

This onslaught was because Maggie, Tara and her daughter
Lisa, and Maggie's niece Jodie and her daughters were all
going to some huge sleepover that a local charity or
church were having. A girl's thing. Mulder wasn't really
sure of the details. The only points of importance to him
had been that Friday was a free night in which he and his
wife could get up to all sorts of funky mischief without
little ears overhearing, and that Saturday night would be
where payment was painfully extracted in stereo.

"Don't you want to go to the sleepover too, Dana?" he had
asked.

"And leave you alone with six boys for that long? It
would be interesting in a sadistic sort of way to see
what would be left of you by the end of that period, but
hardly fair. And besides, I like sleeping in my own
bed..."

Oh, how Bill had crowed and bragged when Tara gave birth
to Lisa, Maggie's first female grandchild, five years
ago, not long before Dana and Fox's second son, Brett,
was born. Lisa had arrived prematurely, but fortunately
not so early that it had caused complications. It looked
like Lisa was going to be Maggie's only granddaughter
too, which just made Bill all the more impossible.
"Another boy, Mulder?" was his derisive response both
times when Mulder had phoned about the arrivals of his
two youngest.

Upon hearing that response to Brett's birth, Mulder had
replied, "Yes. Another wonderful boy. Any child your
sister gives me is a miracle and a gift." That had shut
him up.

Until son number three...

At the same response to Keiran's birth, Mulder tried a
different tack. "Considering the odds, I'd say I'm doing
a great job of knocking her up. We're aiming for a
baseball team."

Cue stunned spluttering from the other end of the line.

And at the moment it was still Friday night and Mulder
was drifting, safe in the knowledge that his house was
not going to be invaded just yet and that he'd just
scored.

So sated, so content, so sleepy...

WHACK!

So completely smacked upside the head.

"Ouch!" Mulder jerked back to reality: the couch. Naked
him. Naked, flushed and impatient-looking wife. "What?"

"No falling asleep on the job!"

"But -"

"Don't go giving me the old 'oxytocin' excuse, Mulder!
You haven't done your duty!"

"I was trying to... I just..."

She glared at him. "Get with the program! You got to be
happy. I got to 'teetering on the edge of happy'."

"I was trying... It was just so warm and comfortable...
This is why it's easier to get you off before or during,"
he muttered defensively.

"Well excuse me for not orgasming to your timetable..."

"Can't I give you an IOU for first thing in the morning?
Special treatment? So I can sleep now and give you my
full attention then?" He was joking (especially since he
valued his life), and as usual their banter - even as
pillow talk - was stimulating him awake and holding the
oxytocin at bay. For long enough, he hoped.

"Fox, in all the time you've wasted arguing you could
have easily made me a very happy woman and then gone back
to sleep."

"Well, we don't have the boys around - we have the run of
the house. I'm not going to make you a very happy woman.
I'm going to make you a positively *ecstatic* woman..."

The anticipatory gleam in her eye eclipsed the
frustration as he moved in for the thrill.

xXx

Over the course of Saturday morning and most of the
afternoon, Dana and Fox had revisited some of their
favourite stomping grounds (or rather bonking and
thrusting grounds). The stairs. The spot against the wall
in the front entryway where many a kiss goodbye had
turned into a lot more, back before the kids were mobile
and roaming around the house. It had been agreed to leave
the kitchen table and/or counter until the next time. A
joint bath had rounded things off nicely.

"I should really do some cleaning up before everyone
arrives," Scully said.

"Why? They're just going to undo all that fine work. And
why waste time and energy doing that when we can waste
both much more creatively? Besides, we have been dusting
- we did a great job of polishing the couch cushions and
buffing the stairs!"

"True. Very true..."

Then the invasion had come.

Mulder wondered if his boys were as noisy as these other
three or if he was just so used to it that he didn't
usually notice, or whether they were all being louder
than usual because there were more voices to be heard
over and outdo...

And these other three kids were pretty obnoxious. Was it
because they were hyper about being out of parental care
or were they usually this way or was it just an
'age/phase/boy thing'? The thought of Daniel possibly
going through the same phase in the next few years made
Mulder shudder. But at the moment Daniel was eight, Brett
was five and Keiran four, and Mulder was in no hurry for
them to grow up.

Though nine-year-old Matthew Scully was a dear boy most
of the time - those times usually being when his father
was out at sea and he was under his mother's full
influence - however, when Bill was around, Matty started
to take on the less likeable aspects of his personality.
Tara would try to enforce the rules, but Bill would
ignore them in an: 'I'm home on leave and what I say
goes, lighten up will you' way. Which did not improve
matters.

Bill had shipped out a week ago, and Matty was still in
residual bossy-boy mode, ordering all of his cousins
around, even Ben, who was a year older than him. Matty
was being generally arrogant and opinionated and 'the
assigned leader' in games, so Mulder or Scully made sure
they were around to keep things fair.

One night and Sunday morning, then back to the status
quo, Mulder told himself.

On Saturday night, they set up mattresses, blankets,
pillows and sleeping bags on the floor in the basement
game room for a mass sleepover - for the older boys
anyway. Daniel and his cousins stayed up late, watching
videos and talking and playing games. Mulder and Scully
went to check on them frequently and had to referee food
fights, pillow fights, claims of cheating and bossing,
and also settle issues such as what video to watch next,
what game to play next, whose turn it was on the
playstation, who was going to sleep next to whom...

In between keeping an eye on the boys in the game room,
Mulder and Scully were with Brett and Keir in the sitting
room, where the youngest two had their own 'special'
setup to watch videos and play games without being kicked
off or ignored or accused of being babies by their
cousins. (Or never getting much of a go at the game
because the older boys didn't 'die' as often.) And Brett
and Keir could also flake out on the sofa bed at their
own internal setting of 'late' instead of being
frequently awakened by the older boys still busy doing
their own thing. Hopefully that would mean a less cranky
kid quotient in the morning. The boys tended to take
after Mulder's sleeping habits anyway and therefore could
probably lose some sleep tonight without too bad an
effect.

The youngest could join with the game room crowd when
they wanted, but Brett and Keir had quickly tired of
Matthew and Co. ("Matty called me a baby and I'm not a
baby." "Matty's too bossy and I hate him.")

xXx

Sunday morning

Mulder lay dozing, lying with his wife in a loose spoon,
his arm draped over her.

He wasn't in a sexually-sated blissful stupor - they
hadn't dared get up to anything with all the kids in the
house, even with them sleeping downstairs. Plus there
wasn't any time with all the checking and to-ing and fro-
ing and the accompanying exhaustion. But going without
didn't matter too much for now. He was warm and loved and
with his wife, and drifting in the peace and contentment
that only comes when it is a weekend morning and the air
will not be disturbed by an alarm clock.

THUD! THUMP! SLAM!

Of course, who needed an alarm clock with six boys in the
house? And by the sound of things, they were all up and
out of the game room and sitting room. In the kitchen...
Which was right below the main bedroom.

He could only see the back of his wife's head, but he
could hear her eyes snap open.

The fridge door was slammed shut.

"No, we can't. We're not allowed to -" Daniel.

Sound of the blender being turned on - Matthew, he bet -
and just as quickly turned off - Danny, he bet.

"We can make cereal. I pour the milk for Keir, and I'm
allowed to do the toaster when Mom or Dad's around and -"
Daniel said.

Fox could hear Matthew's sneer. "I'm a year older that
you! Here, pour the cereal then and shut up. Catch!"

Mulder had a vivid image of Matthew throwing the cereal -
not the box itself, but the contents of it, in Danny's
direction.

Sure enough, he then heard his son say, "We don't pour it
on the floor!"

"Stop whining, you wimp. Your dog'll vacuum it!"

Mulder could feel his wife's skin bristle at the affront
to her baby and her home.

Surely she'd get up?

She elbowed him instead.

Oh no. Not me.

He feigned his infamous dead sleep. If she was so worried
about the house being trashed, she could go do her
'Warrior Woman' thing.

"I want those!"

"I'm thirsty!"

"Keir, don't eat those cornflakes!"

"No one's stepped in 'em! Fluke didn't lick these!" Keir
stridently asserted before his next sentence was obscured
by a mouthful.

Scully's hand squeezed Mulder's thigh. Hard.

From downstairs came a yell of: "Don't put jelly on the
cat!"

Scully applied even fiercer pressure. Mulder considered
his options. Well, it didn't sound like the kid was
actually *setting fire* to the furball... Yet.

But...

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He did the manoeuvre only a martyr could manage, namely
that of falling on his sword while rolling out of bed.
But he was going to salvage *something* from this
situation, dammit. "You'd better be naked when I get
back..."

"Done."

xXx

Mulder sorted out the fracas - as much as humanly
possible anyway. And it would take a few hours of coaxing
to get Underfoot the cat to come out from his hidey hole
so he could be bathed. The other cat, Come Here, had also
made tracks. They would resume living up to their names
once the trauma had worn off. Mulder was glad that UFO
the hamster (aka Unidentified Furry Object) was safely
shut away in his hutch upstairs.

He whipped up a heap of pancakes to keep the boys going
while they watched TV and used the Nintendo in the game
room. The dog was happy to forgo a walk for the moment,
knowing that he was going to get plenty of morsels from
the boys if he stuck with them. Mulder just hoped that
whatever cornflakes Fluke had devoured off the floor
before parental intervention wouldn't be puked up at any
stage.

Wife was not amused when he returned to the bedroom. "Why
didn't you keep them contained in the kitchen until they
ate? Now there'll be crumbs and sticky fingerprints
everywhere."

"Like there aren't usually with our little angels?
Besides, nuclear blast doors couldn't contain that lot.
There would have been just as much mess in the kitchen.
Actually, there is to a degree. The game room needs
scraping and industrial sandblasting soon anyway. Let
them have a bit of fun now - they can help clean it up
later on. Plus the trade off is worth it so you and I
have a bit longer to lie in. I'll go down and check them
again soon."

Scully thought for a moment, then nodded. "Are Brett and
Keir okay in with the others?"

"I got them alone and asked. While there's food to be
had, I think they'll stick with them. K and B have got
the sitting room for themselves whenever they want it.
That was a good idea - they didn't fall asleep too late
last night and they're not really cranky this morning.
For the short time it's going to take them to remember
how annoying their cousins are, they'll want to mix with
the big boys... Can't blame them - they don't want to
seem like 'babies'."

Scully nodded as he continued speaking, "Though why
they'd want to mix with Monster Mode Matt... Poor kid -
Tara gets him straightened out back to normal and he's
fine, then Bill comes back, lords around, and undoes all
her work." Mulder shook his head. "Anyway, K and B know
their options if they change their minds or get left
out."

He looked at Dana, who had the sheets and blankets
demurely up to her chin. "I seem to recall issuing an
edict of bare flesh, wife."

A creamy, naked shoulder appeared, then disappeared in a
tantalising shrug. She said, "Perhaps you'd better -"

"Come and find out?"

The door burst fully open and, with two bounds, Brett
landed on the bed. "Morning, Mommy! I brought you
breakfast!" He proudly offered a slightly worse-for-wear
cookie and started chatting.

Mulder realised too late that Scully had been about to
say 'shut and lock the door'. He'd left it partly open -
a house rule was no barging in if a door was closed...
Whoops. Oh well, perhaps this was for the best. Now
nothing would distract him from 'sentry duty'.

So near, yet so far, he thought, just as Keir appeared,
his legs not quite able to keep up with his brother,
bearing his own 'breakfast in bed' contribution: a
handful of cornflakes.

xXx

After the boys had finished their chores, like feeding
the hamster and cleaning up the kitchen under
supervision, Mulder spent time with them in the game
room, watching cartoons and playing some games. Keiran
and Brett stayed because he was there - after a spell in
their parents' bed, happily talking and sleeping. The
phone rang when Mulder was in the middle of showing off a
really cool trick on one of the games, where the player
could use a shortcut key to instantly upgrade his legion
of Roman soldiers to spacemen with ray guns.

Soon after, Scully entered the game room. She spoke over
the buzz of the boys. "Work called. They want me in to do
an emergency autopsy."

That got everyone's attention. "You have to go cut up a
body?" Matthew asked. "Cool! Can we come watch?"

Scully ignored that and continued speaking to her
husband, "Skinner really wants me to do it -
straightforward enough from what he's told me, but he
wants an 'unimpeachable' report. There are times when
having such a good rep is a pain. But it should only take
a few hours."

"So we CAN come?" Ben was nearly beside himself with
glee.

Matthew was right beside him. "Oh wow - what did he die
of?"

"Might be a she," Steven said.

Mulder gave Dana a 'you deserter, this is deliberate'
look, but smiled. "Sure. I'll take the guys to the park.
Wear them out." He had planned to do that anyway this
morning because fortunately the winter weather was fairly
mild at the moment. "And give Fluke his walk." The dog
looked around and thudded his tail enthusiastically.
Mulder clapped his hands. "Okay, everyone - coats, socks,
shoes. And I think the football is around here
somewhere..."

"Can't we go and just *see* the body?" Matthew whined.

"If you behave at the park, Aunt Dana might tell you
about it when she gets back. Or about some really gory
stuff she's seen over the years..."

"That's bribery."

"Live with it."

Matt got one of his Big Bill wise ass expressions and
announced to his cousins, "I wanna see the intestines.
Sausages and hotdogs are really ground up stuff stuck
into intestines. My Dad says so."

"Like tennis racket strings being made out of cat guts,"
Ben said, not wanting to be out-grossed.

"And horses being made into glue!" was Steven's
contribution.

Mulder checked out his son's reactions. Daniel was giving
his cousins a 'yeah, right' look. Brett looked both
curious and a little green. By Keir's look, a family
barbeque would be out for the time being, more out of
horror of the wherefores rather than it producing an
upset stomach - Keir very rarely tossed his cookies.
Damage control time though, he thought, heading towards
his youngest.

As Scully was getting ready to leave, Mulder was busy
alternating between putting socks on Keir and
congratulating Brett on his determined effort at tying
his sneaker laces.

He piggybacked Keir around the room, searching for a pair
of the boy's shoes, doing his best pirate imitation.
"Ahoy! Over there!" Keir yelled in his ear from the
'crows nest', pointing behind the armchair.

"Nah, matey, that's one of Brett's, not yours. Might be
yours next year though, when it's a hand me down."

His wife eyed the six boys and then turned to her husband
and said, "I'll drop into the church and pray for you."

"Hey, I'm doing fine so far. Look -" He waggled his son's
stocking feet. "Keir's actually in matching socks!"

She smiled and Keiran laughed at the tickling of his
toes, tugging at his father's hair. "Yeah, but are they
fresh ones?" Dana asked.

"Don't mess up a miracle with details..." Mulder said.
"And don't dawdle too long over the body. Think of me
with all these bodies..." He kissed her, and heard
'ewwwww' noises in the background from Matthew and Ben.


xXx

After Scully had left, Mulder was on the way out the back
door with his entourage when the phone rang again. It was
Tara, announcing that she and Jodie and Maggie and the
girls would be back earlier than expected. They were
cleaning up the church hall at the moment. She said that
Jodie hoped Ben and Steven were behaving...

When Tara gave her estimated time of arrival, Mulder
glanced at his watch. "That works out well. I've still
got time to take the boys to the park. They're all hyped
up for it now. If we're not back when you arrive, that's
where we'll be. We won't be too far away though."
Especially not when I can offload three problem children
earlier than expected, Mulder thought. And if I wear them
all out, I'll be surrounded by grateful women!

Since it was a weekend morning and good weather for the
moment, with no frost or snow, the park had a good
turnout of people.

The older boys and the dog played with the football.
Brett hesitated, not wanting to miss out on their action
(and probably not wanting to be thought of as a baby
either), but the lure of the playground won out. So
Mulder was kept busy with Brett and Keir as they slid,
swung and scrambled over their kingdom. He kept his eye
on the other boys and gave the occasional yell to ensure
fair play. So, his throat got exercised, while his ears
were assailed by: "Watch me Daddy/Catch me Daddy/Look at
what I can do Daddy". His diplomacy and negotiation
skills got a workout in trying to halt some tantrums in
the bud when his sons' favourite items of play equipment
were already being commandeered by other children.

He loved playtime, but this was very large scale. Yes -
the Scully women owed him big time. And he already knew
how he was going to collect off one of them...

Eventually Mulder played catch with Brett and Keir near
the footballers while also throwing a tennis ball for
Flukie to fetch.

He looked at his watch then called out, "A few more
minutes, guys, then we head for home."

A collective: "Awwww!"

"The girls are due back. And there's a mess to fix up in
the basement, remember?"

Since he was sans-Dana, some of the mothers had been more
flirtatious than usual at the playground. Mulder
chuckled, thinking back to another weekend a few years
ago. He and Dana and the boys had returned from an outing
to the park. The two youngest went down easily for their
naps, exhausted, and Daniel went with the neighbours to
play next door. Mulder turned to his wife. "The sunshine
must have agreed with you, babe. You're glowing."

"Happiness. Pride. I heard something today that I think
you might like..."

Dana recounted how she had taken Keir to the park's
public restrooms and upon coming back they were
approaching the play area when she overheard two other
mothers talking up ahead on a bench, their backs to her.

"Who's that guy over at the swings? The one filling out
those jeans so well..."

"Forget it. He's taken. He's *very* taken. You can join
the rest of us who look but don't touch. Most of the time
he and his wife are like newlyweds. Devoted to each
other."

"Oh, damn." The woman sounded disappointed, then rallied.
"He must be good in bed then. Still, with the divorce
rate as it is, I've got some room for hope he'll become
available! Is that his kid he's swinging? Looks like he's
a devoted father too. I wish my ex was."

"Yes, that's his middle one. He just waved to his eldest
son on the slide. Three sons."

"Oh." The woman appeared to be giving up on her fantasy.
"I don't know if I could handle being stepmother to that
many boys."

"They have their moments, but they're not demon
incarnates. Sweet little ones."

Dana had finished recounting the discussion. And she
started rubbing a hand over Mulder's jeans. One place in
particular. "I agree with what they said, and I think you
should be rewarded for your devotion."

"I won't say no." He reached for her zipper, but she
blocked him.

"Uh uh. This is for you. Let my fingers do the walking.
And my mouth..."

xXx

"Dad! Can you get that?"

Mulder paused, his mind still dwelling in the memories,
his body about to toss a baseball to Brett. The football
was careering past on his right - someone's wild kick or
throw. He turned in pursuit.

And then everything happened at once.

Later on, he couldn't quite reconstruct the order of
events. He remembered his ankle turning and, as he was
trying to right it, Flukie was suddenly right there,
streaking up with the tennis ball between his teeth from
his latest retrieval. Mulder recalled thinking how the
dog's tongue was hanging out the side because the ball
was taking up the rest of the room in his mouth. He tried
to leap or dodge or something, but either the dog
ploughed into him or he avoided the dog but came down
awkwardly, or perhaps he tripped over the dog's tongue...

One thing he was sure of was PAIN.

Mulder lay on the ground on his side, gasping and
writhing. His left ankle hurt like hell.

"Dad? Dad!" Worried.

"Daddy!" Frantic.

It's just my ankle. It's NOT broken. I won't let it be
broken. I'm fine. I have to get up. I'm scaring the kids.

"I'm okay..." He pushed himself onto all fours, then over
into a sitting position. "Yowtch!" By now all the kids
were there, ringing him like wagons preparing to defend
against an attack. The dog was there too, unhurt and
sensing his discomfort. Fluke would have been trying to
lick him, but was still clamping the tennis ball for dear
life. Daniel pulled the dog back a bit.

"I'm okay. I just rolled my ankle..." Mulder said.

But he could tell he wasn't fooling them. He was
breathing shallowly and couldn't stop, and he had to keep
clenching his eyes shut to ride out the waves of rather
intense agony.

The boys were all crowding around him. Natural curiosity
about injuries and accidents. Also, sometimes when
playing with the boys, Dana would turn medical scenarios
into games - serious 'what if' training, but still fun:
"Okay, we're going to pretend that Daddy has just broken
his arm here in the sitting room. What do you think we
should do - Mulder, stop overacting. You're scaring
Keir."

"Am not!" Keir and Mulder declared at the same time. And
with the same expression.

"I've had a broken arm before, babe. You haven't. So
don't knock my performance."

Dana folded her arms. "How about we pretend that Daddy
has passed out on the floor instead, and is unconscious,
*unable to speak*."

"Fine. I'm not dedicating my Oscar to you then!" Mulder
declared, before 'swooning' as directed.

A few times the boys had gotten overenthusiastic with
their bandaging jobs and nearly turned their father into
an Egyptian mummy. Like the time last year when Mulder
was napping on the recliner with his feet up, went into
his 'dead sleep', and woke up immobilised - they'd
wrapped bandages right around the reclining part of the
chair, not just his legs. His kids were nothing if not
thorough.

"Thanks for stopping them, dear," he said sarcastically
to his wife, when he thought she had stopped laughing
hard enough to actually hear him.

Dana wiped tears from her eyes. "I just couldn't make
myself stop them - I *had* to see the look on your face
when you woke up! Besides, they said the recliny-bit was
like a splint for your 'broken legs', so who was I to
argue with such logic?"

Not to mention the time they decided to turn 'vets'
instead and started wrapping Flukie up before Mulder
realised what they were doing. Good thing it hadn't been
the hamster.

So, Mulder's ankle injury here in the park was just an
extension of the scenarios to his boys.

"Dad, do you have your phone?" Danny asked.

Mulder shook his head no. Daniel began looking around for
help and a relieved expression came over his face.

Mulder knew what - or who - was coming. As if it wasn't
embarrassing enough to have taken a header, he had also
taken it in a public place. More than just his boys and
their cousins were in the vicinity. Several women from
the 'swing brigade' hurried over, clutching hastily
scooped-up children. "Fox, are you all right?"

One in particular looked like she wanted to give him
pretty thorough attention...

"I'm fine. I just need a few minutes." Downplay the pain.
He felt like clenching his eyes shut again, but forced
them to remain open and did a quick headcount of his
charges, just to make sure all were present and accounted
for, especially Brett and Keir. To his relief, they were.

One mother had whipped out her cell phone, finger about
to hit the speed dial. "No, no ambulance," Mulder said.

"Then what about your wife? At least let me drive you to
the ER."

"We gotta get Dad home and bandage him up!" Brett
declared.

"It's just his ankle," Matthew said, rolling his eyes.
Ben and Steven made accompanying jeering noises.

Mulder forced a smile and explained to the woman, "I'll
call Dana when I get home. Relatives are going to be on
the doorstep at any minute and one of them can drive me
if need be." Thank God the arrival of Tara and Co. was
imminent. Babysitting six boys was stressful enough when
the sitter was healthy. With his ankle sprained, Mulder
knew he couldn't properly supervise or keep up with that
many kids.

"Danny, put Fluke on his leash please. Matthew, can you
and Ben gather up the balls?" Too bad they hadn't brought
the baseball bat along - could have been a stand-in cane.
"In a few minutes I think we'd better head for home. Then
we can have some ice cream." Bribery couldn't hurt. Damn,
his voice was husky.

"Your dad's a wimp," he heard Matthew say to Brett. "MY
dad wouldn't -"

Mulder couldn't overhear the rest as one of the mothers
scrutinised him carefully and said, "Perhaps you'd better
stay put. You look very pale."

"Just a little sprain. I've had them before." That was
true - the initial pain was usually intense and this was
no exception. It was shaking him up and he could feel
sweat forming. Hopefully his tennis shoe had limited the
sprain.

Once everything had been gathered, Mulder got to his
feet, the most eager of the swing brigade lending a
helping hand...which ended up straying - quite
accidentally - to his behind and staying there to
'steady' him as he kept the weight off his injured ankle.

"Thanks. Okay, guys, let's go home."

"Lean on me, Dad. Ben, can you take Flukie?" Danny held
the leash out to his cousin. "So he doesn't tangle Dad
up?"

Ben muttered about dumb dogs, but did as requested. He
and Steven started talking together about how they
weren't looking forward to having their sisters back and
what silly things girls did. Matthew joined in.

"Dad, are you okay?" Brett asked.

Mulder ruffled his son's hair. "It's fine. I've had lots
worse."

His ankle was throbbing. It had started swelling
immediately. The injury hurt, but he was able to walk on
it with support from some of the boys, leaning on them.
He started to head for home, going very slowly to keep
the limp down to a minimum. It was not keeping the pain
down though.

Groper-woman was still present. "I can help you back to
your place. It's just over there, isn't it?"

I'm sure my wife will be thrilled to catch you tucking me
into bed...

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm fine. Um, I think your
daughter wants to go to the bathroom..." Mulder pointed
at a girl several yards away who was pulling her little
pants down. The mother hastily disappeared from his side.

Mulder had to stop a couple of times to catch his breath
and heard whispers about 'wimp' and 'wuss' from the brat
pack. By the time they reached the house, Mulder was more
than ready to keep his weight off the ankle. He used
furniture within reach to help propel himself, and, once
he reached the sitting room, he hopped to the couch and
sank down gratefully.

Matthew went to the picture window and looked out. "No
sign of Mom yet. Or anyone."

"So we're still stuck here," Steven muttered. "Though at
least we're still a boy zone! No girls!"

Damn, Mulder thought. Tara couldn't be far off though.

Daniel was eyeing him carefully. "Dad..."

"It's okay. Your aunts and Grandma will be here very
soon. I just need to sit for a while."

Actually, his ankle was throbbing relentlessly now, and
the pain had started to radiate up his calf. Now that he
was no longer walking, he hoped the pain would die down
to a dull roar. Quickly.

One thing that was both touching and amusing was how
Daniel was taking on Scully's role. The concern and care.
He was the one who insisted that his father lean on him
for support on the way home from the park. Who had
insisted - even before Mulder could say so - that Matthew
keep Brett and Keir with him as they crossed the road.
Matthew had grumbled about babies, but did as told. Now
Daniel was looking at his father in that scrutinising,
judging way that was classic Doctor Dana Scully, trying
to figure out just how much front Mulder was putting up.

It was bizarre. An eight year old physical replica of
himself, but with Scully's blue eyes... And a mixture of
their personalities.

Matthew was heading out the door into the entranceway.
"Matthew, where are you going?"

Bill's son stuck his head back in. "I need permission to
go to the bathroom in this place? No wonder my dad says
that -"

Mulder waved him out, but decided to keep an eye on the
time. No telling what that kid would get up to while
Uncle Mulder was incapacitated. All of the boys had gone
to the little boys' room while in the park, so Fox did
wonder if Matthew genuinely had to go again or was up to
no good.

Ben and Steven were on the move too. At Mulder's look,
Ben said, "We're gonna go play on the computer until Mom
gets back."

"You can use the playstation in here." So I can keep an
eye on you all, within reach... The only other absent
child was Brett, whom he knew was in the kitchen.
Actually, they were probably all thirsty too... "Ben,
Steven, you can go get sodas out of the fridge. One for
everyone, and bring them back in here please."

"I'll do it," Steven said and exited.

Mulder started unlacing his left tennis shoe, and was
about to ask Daniel to get him some ice, when Brett raced
in with something in his hands. "I found some! I'll put
it on his ankle!"

"You found some ice? Good boy. That's what I need." But
when Mulder reached out, he found himself being handed a
packet of...rice.

"What's that for?" Danny asked his brother, bewildered.

"That's what you said. I heard you. You didn't say ice,
you said we had to rice! I've heard Mommy say that too!"

"No, I meant as in an aberration."

"Abbreviation," Mulder corrected. "RICE, standing for
Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation." He then realised
that was actually an acronym, but Mulder was not up to
delivering a lecture on the finer points of the English
language.

"Oh, right!" Scully's scenarios were coming back to Brett
now. To the Mulder boys it was almost the equivalent of
the 'ABC' song.

"Put that back in the pantry and check the fridge,"
Daniel ordered, though not in a Bossy Bill way. "Just be
careful when you stand on the chair."

"I wanna help," Keir said.

"Then you can get me those blue cushions over there. So I
can prop my foot up," Mulder suggested. Something safe
and easy enough.

"After we've iced and comp-compressed it," Daniel said,
managing to get his tongue around the word.

"Sure thing."

"We have to crush it?" Ben asked, looking up with
interest from the playstation controls. "The ice or the
foot?"

While Daniel tried to explain, Mulder noticed the dog
slinking out of the room, looking guilty. He checked his
watch. Where was Tara? "If Aunt Tara's not here by the
time I fix up my ankle, I'll call her and find out where
she is, and then I'll phone your mom," he told the
hovering Daniel. "Can you get the first aid kit, please?"

Daniel nodded and went to fetch it.

A nightmare vision came to Mulder of none of the Scully
women showing up by lunchtime, leaving him to hobble
around the kitchen trying to fix something... He *could*
take them to the nearest drive through window, he
supposed. Thankfully the van was an automatic and not a
manual, so he wouldn't have to use his bad leg...

Matthew wandered back into the room with Steven and the
sodas as Mulder was slowly easing his shoe off, trying
not to whimper. Fox needed the returned Daniel's help to
get the shoe completely off. The process made him see
serious stars.

Danny said, "I think I better phone Mom."

"In a few minutes... Once I've had a look at it and once
I know what's happening with Tara and Grandma. Otherwise
she'll rush home for nothing."

Recovering a little, Mulder decided to remove the sock.
The boys crowded around.

"Whoa!" Matthew pulled a face a gargoyle could have
borrowed.

"Yeah. Wow, that is huge!" Ben said.

"I was talking about the smell!" Matthew made a pantomime
performance out of holding the sock up like it was toxic
waste.

Jerk.

"Don't forget this!" Steven dangled one of the tennis
shoes.

Mulder's plan was to lie down and try to wait out the
pain. He used one of the Ace bandages from the kit and
propped his foot on the cushions with the ice on it. He
involuntarily let out some groans while doing so.

"Dad, are you sure you're okay?" Daniel asked.

"It's just my ankle, son, not my head. But I'll make
those calls now." He could see Matthew whispering to Ben
and Steven, no doubt plotting up some mischief. Then a
thought occurred to him. "Hey, someone check the
answering machine on the hall table. Tara might have left
a message."

"The light's flashing!" Brett said.

Too bad the boys hadn't seen it earlier, but Mulder
conceded his injury had kept them on the go and
distracted. "What is it? Can you turn it up loud?"

It was quite a message: another car had run into Tara's
parked car while the girls were fortunately still in the
church hall. Aunt Jodie was taking the girls back to
Grandma's and looking after them while Maggie and Tara
dealt with the insurance people and forms and so on. So,
they weren't coming back any time soon.

"We'll fix him - Dad and me!" Matthew declared about the
driver who caused the damage. He went on to his cousins
about the horrible tortures he would inflict, and Ben and
Steven started adding their suggestions.

Danny gave his father the phone. Mulder sat up a little
to make the call to Dana. He started to dial, wincing.

Matthew saw this and snorted. "Your dad's such a wuss. My
dad says -"

Daniel exploded with worry-fuelled anger. "I don't care
what your damn dad says! I'm sick of hearing about him.
And I'm sick of YOU!"

Next thing Mulder knew, Danny and Matthew were on the
floor, wrestling. "Stop it!" he yelled, the task of
completing his call now the last thing on his mind.

The boys rolled. Right towards the coffee table, their
heads unknowingly aligned with one of the heavy wooden
legs.

Still yelling, Mulder leapt up in one movement, putting
himself between them and the danger. In that one
movement, he also put weight on his ankle...

Several things happened at once. His foot sent a bolt of
agony to his brain. He yelled - the queen of all swear
words, actually, not that he realised it at the time. His
brain tried to alleviate the pain by having him quickly
take the weight off. He lost balance. The floor rushed
towards his face. CLUNK! The edge of the coffee table
gave his head a love tap on the way down.

"Fu-Far out..." Mulder censored his summing up of the
situation as he lay in an even-more injured heap. At
least he had blocked the boys from crashing into the
coffee table - and stopped the fight - but of course Lady
Luck had seen fit to make him lose his balance in the
wrong direction. Instead of tumbling onto the relative
safety of the carpet, he just HAD to fall towards the
coffee table.

Then again, if he had gone the other way, he might have
squished Daniel and Matthew. Both were only a few feet
away from him, now scrambling up, looking at him in
alarm.

Mulder put a hand to his head and came away with blood.

Great. Now he was bleeding profusely at the top end and
in agony at BOTH ends. Pity they didn't have a cancelling
effect on each other.




xXx

FBI Building
Pathology Department

Scully wondered how Mulder was coping.

With boys, some chaos was unavoidable. But like the lady
in the park had said, her boys were not demon-incarnates.
They were mature for their ages, but they weren't child
prodigies. They were intelligent, and had parents who
spent a lot of time with them and talked to them, not
down to them. So they were simply more mature and
thoughtful than normal.

Still. Boys would be boys...

For one example out of many, there was the time the boys
had been in the sitting room. When she looked in on them,
Danny was watching TV, Brett was playing with his train
set on the floor, and Keir was napping. She went back
into the kitchen, and two minutes later the sounds of a
riot burst forth.

Dana had raced back to the sitting room door and halted.
Chaos. The TV was up at maximum volume, train carriages
and tracks were scattered everywhere, the remote control
was burbling its way sadly to the bottom of the fishtank,
the dog was running around in circles, barking, all three
boys were yelling at each other...

Dana opened her mouth and took a deep breath, as her
voicebox worked itself up, like a pitcher on the mound,
ready to deliver a yell that would even make the TV go
quiet. Suddenly her husband appeared behind her. Right
behind her. Mulder's arms encircled her, his body
pressing up against hers and his nose nuzzled her ear.
"Barren my ass!" he intoned.

Pride, love, amusement and amazement were in his voice.
The anger drained out of her and she started to laugh.
She tilted her head and purred right back at him, "I
don't think your ass was the culprit, but it did aid
somewhat in the delivery."

She remembered holding Daniel a few minutes after his
birth and whispering to Mulder through her tears, "We're
parents..."

They certainly were. Dana looked at her brood and the
worse-for-wear sitting room. "Who'd a thunk?" Sometimes
in the midst of the chaos it was good to remember just
how lucky they were to have it.

Still... They couldn't let the kids run completely riot,
miracles or not.

Mulder apparently agreed with her, saying authoratively
over her shoulder, "Danny, turn the TV down - off, in
fact. Brett, get the remote out of the tank before the
battery acid gets to the fish."

Three boys.

Her and Fox's passion had been - and still was - so great
that they had managed to conceive in the rare times that
an egg had been released. Or at least a viable egg. And
when Keiran had been born, they both knew that there
would be no more. A strong feeling, just like in the
vision of the future Dana had experienced six years ago
in her dreams. Keir was their last baby.

Dana pulled her thoughts back to the autopsy. Not long to
go...

xXx

"Dad!"

"Daddy! Daddy's broken!"

"Uncle Mulder?"

"Wow, look at all that blood!"

"I'm telling my father he swore! He REALLY swore!"

"I'm okay..." Mulder tried to collect his scattered
thoughts. I can't have a concussion. I won't let myself
have a concussion - I've got six boys to look after!

Voices.

"I'll get more ice."

"No - we need something to stop the bleeding... I know!
Brett, go to -"

Mulder missed the rest of the sentence. He was certainly
bleeding. He was glad that the area rug in the sitting
room consisted of dark colours. He instinctively tried to
cover his head, in a vague attempt to shield the cut and
blood from the youngsters' views - blood either
fascinated or freaked out one of his boys, but he
couldn't remember which, or if it depended on their mood
- but someone stopped him.

"Dad, can you hear me?"

"Yep..."

"Do you know who I am?"

"I know my own boys! Miracle son number one."

"And how many fingers am I holding up."

For a moment Mulder couldn't tell, then his vision
cleared. "Four..." He made himself look at Daniel and
Matthew. It didn't seem like they'd hurt each other in
their wrestling bout.

Daniel nodded at Mulder's finger-count. His expression
was becoming less an 'I'm ten seconds off dialling 911'
look and becoming more a 'Let's see what we've got here
first' one. Mulder knew that if he'd knocked himself out
or hadn't responded properly, Danny would be making the
call.

His eldest son said to the others, "We have to turn Dad
onto his side. You know, we've done it before in the
practises."

"Mommy helped," Keir pointed out.

"There's six of us and no choice! Otherwise he could
throw up and choke on it!"

"He could? Wow..." from Steven.

Now THAT made Mulder feel sick. He closed his eyes. "I
can turn on my side by myself," he informed the boys.

"No, Dad, don't! Save your strength," Daniel insisted.

Mulder decided to humour them on the issue. The boys kept
talking. Something was pressed against the cut and held
there.

"Your dad is such a klutz. My dad wouldn't fall and hurt
his ankle. Or his head."

"Dad hurt his head because of you and me, Matt. Our
faults, not his." Danny sighed. "Good thing the cut and
the ankle are both on his left side. Be hard to know
which way to roll him if it was one on each..."

"A person can actually choke on puke?" Ben asked.

"Yep, and die from it. It can get into their lungs. Some
rock star went that way."

Mulder felt hands pushing and pulling at him. Little
faces were staring down at him. "Heave!"

"Get me the cordless phone," his eldest son said.

Matthew's voice and Daniel's firm reply...

"Are you gonna call 911?"

"Close. Mom."

xXx

Scully was on the tail-end of the autopsy, closing up the
corpse. The technician, Mike, was busy in the background.
When the phone rang, he answered it, then told Scully,
"It's your son - Danny. Says its urgent."

Dana wanted to lunge for the phone, but she was still in
detritus-covered latex. The technician solved that
problem by holding the phone up to her ear. "Honey,
what's wrong?"

"Dad's had an accident - two accidents. He's hurt his
foot and now he's lying on the floor and he's bleeding -
and it's my fault but Matthew was being *such* a pain and-
"

"Danny, honey, slow down. Dad's cut his foot?"

"No. He hurt his ankle in the park, now he's cut his
head. Well, the coffee table cut his head. He's awake. So
I called you first instead of 911. We've got him on his
side."

"Danny, is he -"

"Gimme the phone." Mulder was in pain, but alert. And the
mischievous looks he was seeing on Matthew, Ben's and
Steven's faces were NOT reassuring him.

Sure enough, Matthew was in obnoxious mode and going for
the mindgames. "Ooh blood. To the bone. Yup. Are his
brains hanging out? Oooh brains...cool. Look Keir,
Daddy's brains are hanging out."

"Shut up!" Mulder raged, then regretted the pain such a
loud sound caused him. But it was too late either way.
Keiran howled in terror.

Brett looked like he wanted to cry too, however he was
making an effort to be really grown up. "It's okay, Keir.
Mommy always says that Daddy has more brains th'n he
knows what to do with. Remember? So he can lose some and
be fine!" Brett looked to his other brother for
reassurance. "Right, Danny?"

"Mom, Matthew says that Dad's brains are spilling out but
I don't see any brains. Brains aren't white, are they?
I'm sure that's just bone."

"My brains are NOT falling out!" Scully heard her husband
rage.

Matthew grabbed the phone from Daniel, nearly chortling
with glee. "His brains are falling out!"

"No way!"

"Yes way!" one of the cousins yelled, not wanting to be
upstaged by Matty.

"Give the phone back to Daniel - NOW!" Scully demanded.

When Daniel retrieved the phone, he said to his mother,
"The only thing that's coming out is blood. Brett's
holding a diaper to it."

A diaper? Mulder realised it must be one of the old cloth
ones from the closet. Or somewhere.

"We'll wrap a bandage around it," Danny continued.

His youngest was still giving a few hiccoughing sobs.
"Keir, it's okay, I'm fine." Mulder waved his hand even
harder. "Daniel, if you want to get a car when you're
sixteen, give me the phone NOW."

His son held the phone to his ear.

"Fox, what the hell's going on? Are you all right? Are
the kids all right?"

"Keir might need some therapy. I'm kidding, I'm kidding.
But certain household visitors *will* need medical
attention once I'm finished with them. Ouch!"

At that threat, Matthew's 'what a great joke' mood went
down a few notches and he shut up, though not before he
dared to mutter something about telling his father what
word Uncle had used.

Mulder continued on the phone, "Relax, babe. The kids are
okay. I'm not concussed... Just probably need some steri
strips and some pain meds." He gritted his teeth.
Definitely some meds. He had lifted his head a bit,
despite the pain, wanting to count heads again, and Brett
and Daniel were making the most of this to wrap a bandage
around his forehead to secure the old cloth diaper on.
One quick sweep-around ended up covering his eyes and he
hastily shoved the strip upwards out of his way.

Dana wasn't mollified. "But Daniel said -"

"I'm just lying here to keep them happy. Ow. They won't
let me move." And if they kept up the bandaging like
that, soon he wouldn't be ABLE to move. He was trying to
keep up a light tone, not wanting the younger boys to get
any more upset.

"Well, you sound coherent. That's a start." Mulder knew
that despite that, he hadn't been able to keep the pain
out of his voice. His wife pressed on. "What have you
done to your foot?"

"Sprained my ankle when Flukie tried to become a furry
hurdle."

"It could be broken."

"It isn't."

"All right, I won't phone for an ambulance, but I am
coming home *now*. And if I decide that you're going to
the ER, then you're going! Give me back to Daniel so I
can tell him."

A few minutes later, the phone was off and Danny was
taking charge again. Mulder watched his eldest son.
Daniel was in charge not through his age, but by force of
his personality, quietly coping. If anything happened
between now and Dana getting home, Danny would call 911.

"Okay, Keir, you know how when you're not feeling well,
you've got Mr Buns to hold?" That was his favourite toy,
a rabbit. "Well, can you do that for Dad? Be his Mr
Buns?"

Keir nodded. Mulder would have nodded approvingly too if
possible. Daniel had manoeuvred his brother so that Keir
would no longer see the blood and get hysterical. And he
would also be 'helping' his father while being comforted,
but not feeling like he was being treated like a baby.

Mulder felt the icepack being placed on his ankle. A cool
cloth was applied to his cheek - his forehead was too
swathed in bandages for there to be any room.

Daniel said, "Okay, now we keep talking to him. I'm
sorry, Dad. We can't give you any aspirin."

"Why can't you?" Matthew asked.

"Mom keeps it locked up out of reach."

"Besides, it's a blood thinner. Not what I need right
now. Oww... And something stronger would just mask any
symptoms," Mulder said. "It's fine. You've made me very
comfortable." And now Warrior Woman was on her way home,
so if he could just hold out that long...

xXx

Scully arrived home fearing the worst and praying for the
best.

She found Mulder lying on his side on the sitting room
floor. Her husband had been covered with a blanket. There
was a pillow under his head and Keir was curled up with
him and Mr Buns. "I'm keeping Daddy warm!"

Brett was holding one of the old cloth diapers to
Mulder's head. A mound of unravelled bandages was nearby.
"We just took the bandage off 'cause we knew you'd want
to have a look."

Mulder gave her that grin that always made her want to
knee him in the groin. Or do something to his groin...
"Hey babe, how was your day?" Then he winced.

"Let's see what you've done..." Though she did a quick
head count of the boys first, just to make sure all six
were still around. The cousins were engrossed in a
playstation game.

"I've been doing headcounts. Making myself dizzy doing it
too..." Mulder announced. "How do large families manage
to keep track of everyone? I'd have a nervous
breakdown..."

Several minutes later...

"Doesn't look like you have a concussion, but you're
going to need a few stitches," Dana concluded. She had
put another bandage around his head. "Plus x-rays of your
head and foot, to be sure. Your ankle could be broken."

"It's a sprain. The pain of a break increases over time.
This is staying about the same."

"Come on, guys, we're going to the ER. All of us."

"Scully, do you think that's wise-"

"There aren't many options! There's enough room for
everyone in the van. Just. Come on, guys, move it! The
tallest of you can help me with Dad."

xXx

The stress and worry had gotten to her brood too, and ALL
the boys were playing up on the trip. Being in the front
row at a heavy metal concert would have been more
soothing on both Mulder and Scully's nerves.

Mulder was taken into the ER. Scully then turned to the
six reasons that she was unable to accompany him, and
marched them into the waiting room. This many boys in
such a confined space had 'disaster' written all over it,
so she knew she had to take strong preventative measures.
Especially since some of these boys were almost as big as
her.

Dana lined them up on chairs while rummaging in her
handbag - the advent of motherhood had also brought the
handbag into her life. In her pre-children working career
she had sometimes used a satchel or briefcase, but never
bothered with a handbag. The moment Daniel popped out of
her was the beginning of the new phase of her life -
baglady. Carrying a kid around also meant hauling their
entire nursery too. Just In Case. Pre-kids, she had been
able to pack an incredible amount of things in her suit
pockets, but trying to fit spare diapers in them without
making her body look lopsided was something that could
not be achieved.

Even when the kids left infantdom, there was still any
number of items that could become essential and needed to
be on hand at any moment. Like food bribes. Or food
simply because boys basically seemed to have hollow legs
and were always starving just when the pantry or a seven-
eleven were too far away. She'd give them each some
chocolate soon if they behaved. And to take an edge - or
sliver - off their hunger.

All she could come up with in the way of intimidation was
a hairbrush. She made do, marching up and down, pointing
it threateningly, telling the boys in no uncertain terms,
"Nobody moves or else."

She hadn't gotten any sex last night and her house was a
wreck and her husband was injured and she couldn't be
with him and she WAS Warrior Woman and the hairbrush was
her sword and the boys took one look at her eyes and
decided that behaving would be a Very Good Idea. And at
least the waiting room TV was on.

Message delivered, Scully sank down on a couch. The
process with the hairbrush had reminded her of
intimidating a bad guy with her gun. Brett and Keir had
been spared the worst of her glare-and-point routine, not
because their behaviour had been any better than the
others, but they were both half asleep now, worn out, so
hopefully they would nap and lose some crankiness along
the way.

At some stage someone would want to go to the bathroom
though... The logistics were enough to give her even more
of a headache.

It belatedly occurred to her that she hadn't brought her
cellular along and she hadn't left a note behind in case
Tara and the others arrived at the house and wondered
where they all were. Scully went to check her watch, but
she hadn't put it on after the autopsy, rushing home
instead. She looked at the wall clock while taking the
brush from her lap and sweeping it through her long hair,
now down from the bun she'd tied it in at work. If Mulder
was okay, they should be home before the others came to
pick up the kids. She didn't want to leave the boys in
the waiting room to go and try to phone them, or troop
all the boys with her to the phone - they'd block the
flow of traffic in the hall...

Skinner had been very understanding about the situation
when she phoned him while changing out of her scrubs
before her mercy dash home. "At least you were the one
who did the autopsy. That was the main thing. And we'll
have to wait for the lab results to come through anyway
before the full report can be done." But she would still
have to find time to do the preliminary autopsy report...

A familiar-looking woman entered the waiting room,
literally juggling three children, and sat down on the
other end of the couch. The elder two children looked
like twins, and were around eighteen months old and very
fractious, and the youngest was about five months old and
starting to howl. The mother looked like she was about to
do the very same as she tried to calm them all.

Other people in the waiting room were alternating between
trying not to look annoyed at the disturbance and just
plain looking amazed at how Scully could keep so many
boys so quiet (and most likely hoping that she would
share some tips - or at least her hairbrush - with this
woman.).

A very sympathetic Scully could recall her own days when
the boys were younger and more high maintenance, and the
accompanying exhaustion, even though Mulder had been, and
still was, fully involved in looking after the kids. The
energy levels needed to deal with boys, even when they
were no longer little... Ideally, Dana would not have had
three children so close together - a few years between
Brett and Keir would have been nice, instead of eleven
months - but miracles like those were not something you
resented the timing of.

Scully leaned towards the harried woman. "Excuse me,
you're Jill Collins, aren't you? I think we go to the
same daycare? I'm Dana Mulder."

"Yes, that's right! Oh, what a mess... My husband cut
himself doing some 'do it yourself' and I didn't have
time to drop the kids off at my sister's."

"My husband had some bad luck himself... My sons know how
to make an emergency call, and their father knows how to
provide the need for such a call!"

Jill gestured with her chin towards the boys, who were in
a regimented line, like soldiers, hardly daring to
breathe, while her own brood continued to create havoc in
her arms. "They're not all your kids, are they?"

"No. Those three are."

"They're all very well behaved."

Too scared to move, more like. "Yes, they're being very
good." And they had better continue doing so, Dana
communicated over to them with a Look.

Daniel fidgeted slightly, then quickly stopped. "Your
father is going to be fine," Dana reassured him, knowing
what was on his mind.

One of Jill's twins poked the other and even louder
howling burst forth.

Dana put the hairbrush back in her bag and said, "Here,
I'll hold the baby for you while you deal with your other
two."

"Are you sure? She's just had her milk and she's quite a
spitter."

"Been there. Bought the t-shirt, and promptly had it
thrown up on."

"By me, Mommy?" Keir asked sleepily. The other boys
looked at Dana with a mixture of curiousness and
nervousness, wondering if he was going to be told off.
Her instructions had been not to move, but 'do not talk'
had been strongly implied.

"No, honey, you have a strong tummy." Ironically, he was
the child who hardly ever threw up, which had been a
godsend in the early days. Keir seemed to have a cast
iron constitution. So, obviously he didn't take after his
father, and had instead inherited more than just his
colouring from the Scully side, namely his grandfather's
sea-faring stomach.

Keir had a smug look on his face as he closed his eyes.
If he wasn't in nap-mode, Dana knew he would have done
something like poke his tongue out at his cousins and do
the equivalent of 'nyah nyah, I've got a strong tummy!'.

Dana held her arms out for the little girl. The mother
really needed some help, regardless of the risk. "It's
okay. Good to have something to keep my mind occupied."
That was certainly true. Dana couldn't be with Mulder at
the moment. Her children were not babies anymore and she
lived in a house full of males - even the pets had turned
out to be hims - and the thought of holding a beautiful
little girl baby all done up in pink seemed like just the
balm and calm her frazzled system needed.

She went to settle the baby so the girl was sitting in
her lap and could see her mother, but the baby suddenly
resisted and wriggled and turned and threw up on Scully.
And threw up again before Dana could do anything. Yes,
this perfectly caps off my day, she thought, as her just-
brushed hair clung together in sticky strands and more
spit up worked its way beneath her shirt and trickled
between her breasts.

The other people in the waiting room kept staring. She
wondered if it was because they still couldn't believe
anyone could have that many kids and keep them quiet or
that one baby could upchuck that much.

The boys were probably now keeping silent because the
baby puking was highly entertaining. Though she was sure
they'd start chortling any second.

And even a few ounces of sour milk and drool is an awful
lot when you're wearing it...



xXx

Mulder didn't have a concussion, but he did have another line of
stitches to his name. He didn't have a broken leg either - it was
a sprain. Bad, but not of the 'really bad and will take months to
heal with possible permanent weakness' variety. So he could leave.

When they got out to the van, there was a parking ticket on the
windshield. Scully removed it and put it in her pocket, looking
murderous. All of the boys - including the adult one - were *very*
subdued on the ride home.

At home Maggie and Tara were waiting. They had used Maggie's key
to get in, and were worried about the deserted house and non-
answering of cell phones. They'd had a quick look around the park
too.

Before Dana had taken the boys to the hospital, she had
fortunately gotten Danny to put the bandages and bloodstained
diaper from the boys' patch-up job in the trash. Otherwise Maggie
and Tara finding such things would have caused a whole new level
of panic.

The women got Mulder to the couch, and a frazzled, fed up, spit-up
drenched, smelly Dana was trying to explain, as were all six boys,
who were also all by this stage starving, thirsty and in severe
sugar-withdrawal mode. Most of the pets were hanging around, also
starving and making noise, then the phone rang and Bill was
bellowing down the line, having spoken to a frantic Tara not long
beforehand, demanding to know what was going on.

Dana was yelling back and Mulder was lying there with a splitting
headache and throbbing ankle, wanting everyone to shut up, or at
least to escape the mayhem, but he didn't have the strength to
make it upstairs by himself. Suddenly he started to gag, about to
throw up. "Bucket - trash can!" he gasped desperately, trying to
hold on or hold it in, while trying to signal for attention and
help.

Keir, the closest, grabbed the nearest thing and shoved it into
his father's hands. Mulder didn't have time to have a good look
and by the time he could, it was too late. He'd thrown up in
Tara's bag.

xXx

30 minutes later

Mulder lay in bed and drifted.

The pain meds were working. Thank God.

One good thing about his literal upheaval in the sitting room was
that it had been a showstopper - immediately halting all the
yelling going on and putting the focus of three worried Scully
females back onto him.

Then when Tara and Maggie had been helping Scully to get Mulder up
to the bedroom, Dana had spotted damage to the wall just before
the stairs. "Who did that?" she raged, glaring at all the boys who
were present.

Mulder pulled her back enough to whisper in her ear, "Um, honey, I
think that was *us*. Remember?"

She did. Things had gotten so hot against that wall on Saturday
that her body had probably acted like an industrial wallpaper
steamer. "Never mind," she said to the boys, not meeting their
eyes, then practically carried her husband up the stairs in order
to make a speedy escape.

Mulder let his mind spin off towards sleep...

There was a thud out in the hall. "Shhhhh!" from someone, one of
the boys, also out in the hall.

Mulder mentally shrugged. He had a sick note - he could sit this
one out and let his wife or Tara or Maggie handle it, whatever
'it' was.

Then the door opened and he heard stockinged feet pad in. He
cracked one eye open and saw Danny heading stealthily towards
Dana's bureau. Danny proceeded to open the top drawer and rummage
around.

"Son, what're you doing?"

Daniel jumped and whirled around, looking guilty. "Nothing!"

Mulder started to sit up, then regretted it. "Ow!"

"Dad, it's okay. Just lie down."

"What are you doing?" Then Mulder saw movement in the open
doorway. Brett was there in the hallway, holding his own money box
and Keir's piggy bank. "What IS going on here? Where's your
mother?"

"Mom's in the shower getting rid of the upchuck," Daniel began,
his hand still in the drawer.

Just then Dana's voice could be heard in the hallway. "Mom, I need
to talk to you!" Danny called. He hurried out, leaving the drawer
open, but shutting the door behind him, not before saying, "It's
okay, Dad!" but not sounding very confident about it.

What the hell WAS going on?

Mulder decided if it was a serious enough crisis, he would be
woken. If not, Scully was more than up to sorting it out.

He began to drift off again. Lovely soothing sleep...

The door opened again and bare feet entered. He didn't need the
smell of body lotion to know that it was his wife.

Then her hands were suddenly in the vicinity of his groin, patting
around. Frisking.

Mulder opened his eyes. Dana was leaning over him, wearing only a
very haphazardly tied towel, her wet hair dripping onto the bed.
"Um, honey, if you want some action, I'm gonna have to plead the
fifth for now, sorry..."

Then he realised she was actually searching the pockets of his
sweat pants. "Is it Thief Week in this house or something? What is
going on?"

She didn't seem to be in the mood for either amour or
explanations. "Where's your wallet?" she demanded briskly.

"I can't remember... I did have it when we got home... What have
the boys done?"

She hurried over to the bureau, but pulled open a lower drawer and
rummaged. "They're not stealing. They're gathering. The pizza
delivery man is at the door. With six pizzas. Daniel ordered them.
He told me just then that he DID ask me before he phoned for them,
and that I said yes, but everything was happening at once, if you
recall. I guess he thought he was doing the right thing, and he
was, since we're all starving, though Matthew may have hiked the
number up on him, but the upshot is that the pizzas are here and I
left my bag at the hospital, with my purse and checkbook in it!
Seems to be my day for leaving things behind... The hospital
phoned just before. Jill Collins noticed my bag just after I left,
so at least no one has gone through it and got the credit
cards..."

"Oh. Can't we borrow some money off Ta - ahhhh...." He remembered.
Then, "Ahhhrgh!" as he moved a bit too much and his ankle reminded
him not to. At least his son's behaviour had become clear: Danny
not wanting to wake him with the problem, then when that failed,
his son didn't want to go into detail and stress him out further.

Dana said, "Mom's only got some change. Though she'll head to the
nearest ATM if we can't raise enough. The kids are about ready to
eat the pizza man. Or the pets. Typical - we've got plenty in the
bank, but not enough on hand! Where's that damn stash I had?" She
slammed drawers and headed for the wardrobe. "I might have to hunt
for your checkbook. Though by the time I find it in your desk -"

"It's not THAT much of a mess!"

"- the pizzas will be cold and the kids will be in college! By the
way, you haven't felt like throwing up again, have you?"

"Nope."

"Good. You're not exhibiting any other signs or symptoms of raised
intracranial pressure but I'll keep an eye on you to be sure."
Throwing up after a head injury was not an unexpected thing. Too
much throwing up could be bad though, so Doctor Dana was still in
residence.

"Any chance we can trade Matthew for the pizzas?" Though Bill's
son had gotten some comeuppance - Matthew had accidentally left
his favourite baseball cards in Tara's car on Saturday, so Tara
had put them in her bag for safekeeping... Mulder had to work to
keep the smirk off his face at that news.

Scully pulled a velvet bag out of the depths of the wardrobe and
peered inside. "Damn, I thought there was more than that. Pretty
close though. With the boys' piggy banks and spare change from
under the cushions, we should be right... Saves me having to -"
The last half of the sentence was lost as she rushed out, nearly
losing the towel on the way. The pizza man might not want a tip if
he got a free show instead...

xXx

Same day
Early evening
Mulder residence
Dana and Fox's bedroom

Awakening, Mulder opened his eyes and found two amber ones staring
back at him. For a second his brain thought it was a mutant and
wanted him to lunge for his gun, but then he realised that it was
just Underfoot the cat, who was presently on top of the wardrobe
and would most likely remain so for some time. Dana had managed to
give the cat a bath a few hours beforehand to get the remaining
grape jelly out of its fur, and as soon as it had been released,
it streaked back to 'safety'. So Dana had no choice but to put a
food bowl up there. She'd better remove it before coming to bed -
he didn't want to be woken up by munching if Underfoot
rediscovered an appetite at three in the morning.

At least the house was now no longer harbouring any children apart
from his own. He had managed some sleep. But his head and ankle
were hurting again.

The slightly-ajar door opened further, and wonder son number three
appeared, blinking blearily and lugging Mr Buns.

"Hey, big boy. What're you up to?"

Keiran came around and leaned against Mulder's side of the bed,
resting his face on the blankets. "G'night time."

Dana came in, carrying a dozing Brett and guiding a dead-on-his-
feet Daniel. "Time for more pain meds. And to say goodnight. Time
we all got some sleep."

Mulder looked at the clock. It was before Keir's usual bedtime.
But none of the boys were complaining. No stories would be asked
for or read out tonight.

He hoped Dana had enough energy to get herself back to their
bedroom after tucking the boys in, because he wouldn't be able to
come out and sweep her up.

Dana boosted Keir up within reach. "Night, kiddo."

A minute later, Mulder said, "Boys, I'm proud of you all. You did
a great job looking after me. Thanks."

"Okay, tribe, let's hit the hay." Brett was now awake enough to
walk out under his own steam, so Dana hefted Keir and led the boys
to the door.

"Danny, wait up a minute," Mulder said. Dana and the younger boys
exited, and Daniel came back near the bed, looking down at his
hands.

Mulder watched this eight year old near-carbon-copy of himself and
realised that Scully was correct about what she had been saying
for years, even back when they were only work partners: guilt did
NOT look good on him.

"I know you're feeling guilty, but it wasn't your fault that I
hurt my foot or my head, Danny. It was mine."

Daniel shrugged, not convinced. "Maybe not your ankle, but you
only stood up from the couch and fell because I got angry at
Matthew and we started fighting. So that's my fault."

"You were trying to do the right thing - to help me and he was
being stupid about it. You two shouldn't have started fighting,
but it was hard on you. You were worried about me and stood up to
him. Despite the fight, everything else you did today you proved
you're more sensible than a nine year old. You weren't the eldest
there, but you took charge and coped." At that, Daniel smiled.
"I'm lucky and glad that you were there."

Now the both of them smiled. Mulder made a 'c'mere' motion and
they hugged as best they could in between his injuries. "Now get
to bed before your mother digs out another hairbrush!"

Very soon, Scully was settling into bed next to her husband, meds
having been issued and the cat gently outed to another room. "So,
who babysat whom today?"

"I think I'd rather face six liver eating mutants than six
boys..."

"I think you did a good enough job of injuring yourself without
any help from them! Oh, and Matthew said you dropped 'the word' in
front of them."

"Like his father has never?" Then Mulder became thoughtful. "Hmm,
I wonder..."

"What?"

"After I hit my head, Matthew was even more of a pain, but come to
think of it, perhaps it was because he was scared. Of how much
trouble he'd be in and that I might really be hurt. But he didn't
want the others to know, so he put on an act."

"Perhaps... Perhaps not. Interesting theory though." Dana eyed his
head bandage and the bulk at the end of the bed where Mulder's
foot was propped and surrounded by cushions. "Lucky we had such a
good session over Friday night and Saturday."

"If you get the urge tonight, babe, you'll just have to take care
of it yourself. Sorry. I just couldn't do it to the standards
which you deserve."

She pressed up gently along his good side, to be close and just
hold him. "I don't expect you to do your duty tonight."

"Well, I consider it more a pleasure than a duty."

"Not to mention essential. But we can abstain long enough for you
to mend enough."

Mulder chuckled. "Looking back now, I can't believe we held out
five years..."

"Well, I love you for more than just how good you are in bed!
Besides, before we got together, we didn't know what we were
missing. In our fantasies we knew it would be something special,
we just didn't realise how incredible it would be."

They gazed at each other, content, for several long minutes, then
sleep started creeping up on them.

"Won't need rocking tonight..." Mulder murmured.

"Not even our special brand of 'rocking'. No oxytocin required
this time..."


THE END 


Author's notes:

Those of us who enjoy MT usually have a favourite form. I'm
partial to giving my heroes fevers. My friend Sally is, it could
be said, a sprained ankle whore <G>. When I was deciding what
story out of thousands of ideas to work on next, her reply was
definite: "You're going to sprain his ankle. And in the Daniel
Universe."

I was sure I could come up with a sprained ankle scenario, but the
second part of her demand had me floundering. So Sally came up
with an outline and that set my brain going, then we showed
Macspooky and she upped the ante ('more disaster - add more
boys!'). And so, Sally and Mac, you've been invaluable co-
conspirators in this.

The addition of Brett and Keir to this universe came about (and
sat on my hard drive) long before the show 'Malcolm in the Middle'
appeared, but since then I have found the show a great crash
course in the 'art' of raising boys (or surviving boys). I've even
had Sally phone me up during the commercial breaks and say, "You
are taping it, aren't you? That scenario would be perfect for the
Couch Universe!" Yes, inspiration (and a few lines) have been used
in this story and more will follow. (Oh, and Keir looks *nothing*
like Dewey <G>.)