Title: Out With the Old, In With the New. . .

Author: J.D. Rush

Series: Big Things; follows 'There Ain't No Sanity Clause'

Rating: PG for language

Pairing: Frohike/Scully mainly; LGM friendship; Byers/Reyes (kinda)

Summary: Grab some champagne, and toast the new year!

Disclaimer: FOX, 1013, CC. . .I think we know the song by now. 

Author's Note: Some of the events of this story were inspired by a couple of LGM scenes in the episodes, Nothing Important Happened Today Pts. 1 and 2--just something I saw that piqued my interest. While I'm pretty much distancing myself from the canon of the 9th season, I couldn't let this opportunity pass by. It's not really a spoiler, since you don't need to have seen the episodes to follow this story.

Special Thanks:  To both my wonderful beta's, Kylara and Shamrock. They gave me some great suggestions, and were quite helpful when my back was to the wall. (They were not, however, involved in the final little epilog segment. That one's my own--any mistakes are mine.)

OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE NEW. . .

Monday, December 31, 2001

9:05 P.M.

FROHIKE:

The party was already in full swing by the time I arrived, escorting two lovely Scullys on my arms: Maggie on my left was carrying her grandson (who seemed to know this was a special night and simply refused to go to sleep); and Dana on my right, who was currently miffed with me. "I seem to be a bit overdressed, Mel," she chided. "You lied to me."

I turned my gaze upon my pretty wife, looking even more beautiful than usual.   To tell you the truth, I don't know why she was so upset.   She was wearing a dark green velvet shift dress, simple and elegant; a matching pair of high-heeled shoes, a strand of pearls, and tiny gold hoop earrings rounded out the ensemble.   And okay, so the rest of the guests were in jeans and sweaters and such, but that just made her stand out even more, radiating her loveliness. Still, to appease her, I said, "Nonsense. See--John's dressed up, too."

And that was true. Good ol' John was decked out in his standard narc suit, but he HAD taken a walk on the wild side--his tie was decorated with brilliant bursts of fireworks.   He walked over to us as we stood in the hallway, glass of something alcoholic in his hand, big smile on his face. "Scully--it's so good to see you," and he greeted her with a quick hug.

I'll admit I was pretty freaked out about this party, as was Dana. Playing pretend in front of her family was one thing, but now we had to fool our friends, and that wasn't gonna be so easy. Byers knew the truth about our marriage, but no one else did. (Face it, that's not exactly something you go around bragging about.) We were still uncertain how our friends would react to our unusual co-habitation agreement--it was just easier not to bring it up. Consequently, both Dana and I knew we had to be on our toes tonight if we were going to pull this off, and convince everyone that we were still happily married 'newlyweds'.

She hugged him back, even planting a small kiss on his cheek. "Hello, Byers. Same here." As she pulled away from him, she gestured to woman on the other side of me. "I think you remember my mom?"

Byers stuck out his hand and greeted, "Of course. It's nice to have you, Mrs. Scully."

She took a second to secure William, then reached out to shake his hand. "Maggie, please. . .oh, I'm so bad with names. You are again. . .?"

Before anyone had a chance to make the introduction, Langly came flying out of nowhere and snatched the baby right out of Maggie's arms. "Hey, little dude!" he cried out, and began nuzzling William with his nose. Billy starting giggling like a demon, his tiny arms flailing around as Langly switched over to making raspberry sounds against his tummy with his lips. With William now screeching in delight, Langly seemed to finally notice the rest of us standing there. He gave us all a quick nod in recognition, then bounded off with his ward. 

Well, at least we didn't have to worry about a babysitter.

Trying to regroup from the whirlwind that had just swept through past us, Scully cleared her throat and announced, "Mom, this is John Byers. The man who just kidnapped my son is Ringo Langly. The young man over there who's manning the bar is their newest partner, Jimmy Bond. And this is. . .?"

I turned to see who Dana was staring at and unconsciously growled out, "Yves, what the hell are you doing here?"

The bane of my existence sashayed over to us, her hip movements even more exaggerated than usual. (I swear she's gonna throw her back out one of these days doing that.) Byers, the coward, mumbled some quick lame excuse and hightailed it out of there, leaving me alone to deal with the barracuda. "Ah, Melvin. . ." she purred in that 'it's GOT to be fake' British accent of hers. "I see you're as charming as ever. Nice to know married life hasn't changed you much."

"You didn't answer my question," I hissed, not even trying to hide my annoyance of her presence.

She just crossed her arms over her leather-clad chest and sighed, "If you MUST know, a 'business dealing' fell through, and since I had no other plans for the evening, I thought it might be fun to crash your little soiree." Taking a quick look around the warehouse, she sniffed, "How wrong I was."

"Well, no one's keeping you here, dollface," I informed her in my best Bogie imitation. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"What, and miss the chance to meet the little man's little woman? I wouldn't DREAM of it!" she declared.

"Yves, I'm warning you. . ." I threatened. 

But of course she ignored me--like she ever takes me seriously, right?-- and held her hand out to my wife. "So, THIS is the famous Dana Scully. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. And may I add your personnel photo doesn't do you justice."

Dana took the hand, more to be gracious than anything else. "Um, ah. . .it's nice to meet you, too, ahhh, Yves, was it?"

A sarcastic sneer rang out, "Yeah, THIS week."   We all turned to see Ringo standing behind us, a sock puppet on one hand while he played with the baby. 

"I see you've finally met your intellectual equal, Richard," a totally unfazed Yves sneered back. He retaliated by sticking his tongue out at her, an action that was mimicked by Billy-boy. <Way to go, kiddo!> Yves just groaned out, "Oh, VERY mature, Langly." Turning back to Dana, she sighed, heavily, "Do you really think it's a wise idea to have your son associating with these. . .boys? Especially after the LAST time they were left alone with a defenseless infant?"

I instantly cut her off--no need to go THERE! "You know, I'm actually surprised you'd show your face here, Yves, considering all the fibbies hanging around."

"Well, normally, the last place I'd be is in a room with so many feds," she readily agreed, "but if they're friends of yours, and YOU paranoia poster-children trust them, then they can't be all bad."

"Pity we can't say the same thing about you, eh, Yves?" I muttered.

She just laughed, a laugh as phony as her accent. "Melvin--that's not a very nice thing to say--but then again, I'd expect nothing less from you. Perhaps that why Dana decided to keep her maiden name." Turning back to Scully, she clucked, "Quite a wise idea, if I do say so. 'Frohike' has such. . .unsavory connotations."

By now Dana had crossed her arms over her chest in a mirror image of Yves. "You seem to know an awful lot about my husband," she observed, her tone as smooth and phony as Yves. <Just what is she up to?>

The raven-haired trouble maker regarded me contemptuously, "Well, we go back a long way, don't we, Melvin?"

"Too long," I growled. "And stop calling me Melvin."

"He's so enchanting, isn't he?" she cooed, derisively. "I really envy you, Dana--you're quite a lucky woman." <My God, the girl raised sarcasm to new heights.>

Dana stepped over to me and wrapped her arm around my waist, pulling me close to her. Giving me a kiss on the cheek, she replied, silkily, "Yes, I know."

At that, Yves raised an eyebrow, and I wondered if it was a female trait or something. "Could it be that I've underestimated you, Toad-boy?" she pondered, sardonically.

"Oh, most definitely," Dana purred, huge Cheshire Cat smile on her face. "Mel is an amazing man." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial, just-between-us-girls whisper, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but the boy can go for HOURS without a break; he completely wears me out some nights." 

With that, she had turned to me, no doubt to pick my jaw up off the floor, and whispered sweetly, "C'mon, lover, let's go get you something to eat--you're going to need your energy tonight." All I could do was nod dumbly and let her lead me away, hand firmly planted on my ass. I glanced back over my shoulder to see the reaction of the ball buster . . .

Well, pinch my toes and call me a jelly donut--Yves Adele Harlow was struck speechless.

When we were well out of earshot, I gasped, "Geez, Dana, if you didn't want to be married to me anymore, you COULD just ask for a divorce instead of trying to kill me off with a heart attack!"

"But then I wouldn't be able to collect on your life-insurance," she kidded.

"I can't BELIEVE what you just said that to Yves!" I wheezed, still unable to catch my breath.

"I don't know what you mean, Fro," she replied, innocently. "I simply told her the truth. The way you can chatter on and on--there have been times you've almost talked my ear off."

I stood there, mouth agape as I pondered the wily ways of my bride. "Dana Scully--I didn't know you could be so devious," I said admiringly when I found my voice. "I like it."  

"What can I say? You're a very bad influence, Frohike."

"I do my best," I admitted, with a shrug of my shoulders. Her smile simply beamed as she leaned in for a quick kiss, our wicked giggles filling the room.

WALTER:

"Maggie."

At the sound of my voice, she turned away from the spectacle she had been watching, and a smile crossed her lovely face; it was so obvious to see where Scully got her good looks. "Walter!" she exclaimed, giving me a quick hug. "I didn't expect you here tonight."

"I could say the same," I replied, as I helped her off with her coat. 

"Well, Dana and Mel were dropping William off at my place, then decided it wasn't fair for me to spend the night alone babysitting for them. Next thing I knew, Billy and I were dressed up, and going out on the town."

"Your daughter is quite persuasive that way. . . how do you think *I* ended up here!?" I hung up her coat, then looped her arm in mine. "Please, come join us," I insisted, leading her over to the couch where Doggett and Reyes were already lounging, engrossed in conversation. Their eyes lifted at our approach, and John graciously stood up.

"Mrs. Scully," he smiled, already leaning over to kiss her politely on the cheek. "Nice to see you again."

"And under much nicer circumstances," she smiled back. She wasn't kidding, either. The last time she and Doggett were together was at Mulder's funeral. Shit. . .Mulder. I had hoped coming here would help me to forget him for a few hours, but that was easier said than done. "And must I remind you, it's Maggie?"

"No ma'am," he answered, jumping slightly at the sound of a throat clearing loudly behind him. Turning around, he saw Reyes giving him one of those 'what about ME?' looks women are so good at. "Ahh, Maggie, may I introduce Monica Reyes?" he quickly, and guiltily, amended.

Monica stuck out her hand and Dana's mother reached out to shake it. "It's nice to finally meet you, Maggie," she said. "Dana speaks of you all the time."

"Same here, Monica," Maggie answered, taking a seat next to my newest agent. "She's told me all about what you did for her during that difficult delivery. I have much to thank you for."

"It was my pleasure," the young lady assured her. "I'm just glad the baby is okay."

"He's more than okay, he's wonderful." That came from Scully, who had wandered over to join us; she handed a drink to her mother and joined the other women on the sofa.

"I think you're bein' a bit biased there, Scul," Doggett teased, as he ended up taking a seat in a chair next to mine.

"Why? Just because William is the smartest, most beautiful baby that was ever born?" Maggie countered, playfully.

Reyes laughed, "I don't think grandmas are allowed to vote for 'world's cutest baby'. The results end up rigged."

"Only in Southern Florida," Frohike deadpanned, as he made his way to our group, and sat on the armrest next to his wife.

His wife. Dana. Why could I not get that through my head? This was the first time I had really seen them together, and I just couldn't grasp it. I mean, I understood what Scully had told me that night of the stakeout, heard what she said about how she loved Frohike, but I still couldn't help thinking that this picture was wrong.

I looked around, trying to piece it together. Langly was off in his own little world, dancing with William in his arms. Jimmy was in discussion with that exotic beauty --the one entirely decked out from head to toe in black leather. (Indeed, it looked like a contest between her and Frohike to see who could wear the most leather at one time.) There was no question how sexy Yves was, but frankly, I wouldn't trust her as far as he could throw her--and maybe not even that much. Her obvious charms seemed to have little effect on the Gunmen, except for Jimmy, that is. As for the other guys, Frohike only had eyes for Scully, and Byers--Byers appeared to be captivated by one Monica Reyes. Interesting.

The only person missing was Mulder. He should be here, with us, with his friends, ringing in the New Year. HE should be sitting on the armrest of the couch, joking with Scully and her mom, butting heads with Doggett, and comparing outlandish theories with Reyes. I could almost picture him, with those sparking, laughing hazel eyes and annoying know-it-all smirk, and it made me miss him all the more.

Things just weren't the same with Mulder gone. Work was back to normal now, well, somewhat. The cases of the X-Files pretty much assured that work would never be exactly 'normal', but neither was it the conspiracy-filled rat race it had turned into during the years Mulder was there. Sometimes I found myself wondering if he had just imagined it all but his charisma and persuasive nature caused all of us to get wrapped up in his paranoid delusions. Or had something happened the night William was born, something that brought about the end of the proposed alien invasion and occupation? Or maybe, Krycek's death was the key, a human sacrifice that saved the human race.

Those are thoughts best left to philosophers--or Mulder, for that matter. Only he could make sense of what had happened to us that fateful night. All I wanted was for him to come back someday and explain it to me. I needed someone to help me understand, to help me forget. . .to help me forgive. 

I needed Mulder to come home

"Hey, Fro--can you take the kid for a sec?" Langly's voice interrupted my ruminations. "I gotta go shake the snake."

"Jesus, Langly! There are ladies present!" he reprimanded.

"Well, that's why I didn't say I had to take a wizz."

Frohike buried his head in his hands. "Oh, God, Langly--what am I going to DO with you!?"

"You gonna take the kid or not?" the young man asked, annoyed.

"Over here, Langly," I cut in, holding my arms out. "I'll take him for a few minutes."

"Thanks, Skinner. You're the man." And suddenly I found my arms filled with one happy wriggling baby boy. 

"He's gotten so big!" I declared, astounded.

"Well, that's what babies tend to do when you don't see them for a few months," his mother explained patiently, and rather sarcastically, if that's possible.

She was right. I hadn't been over to visit her since she had gotten married. Come to think of it, I didn't visit her much before that, either. Guess I was worried about intruding on her and Mulder and the child. Then, once Mulder was gone--let's just say I wasn't very good company for a long time. "You know, I think I'm gonna have to agree with Maggie--he's absolutely beautiful," I stated.

Scully blushed and tried to cover it up with a sip of her wine. "Thank you, sir," she said, with obvious pride.

I noted the young child watching me with big bright hazel-green eyes, and my mouth dropped open. "He's got Mulder's eyes," I said in wonder.

She nodded. "Yeah--I noticed that, too."

"We just hope he doesn't end up with Mulder's nose," Frohike snipped, jokingly. 

"Cute outfit--where'd you get it?" The child was dressed in a miniature Starfleet uniform jumper, complete with captain insignia at the neck. 

Dana and Frohike both sighed, "Mulder."

"It was his Christmas gift to William," Maggie filled in.

"Figures," I laughed. Mulder was the ultimate sci-fi fanboy geek. "I'm surprised he didn't include a pair of Spock ears and a toy phaser."

Frohike looked at Dana, Dana looked back at Frohike – and they both sighed again, dramatically. I shook my head in disbelief. Leave it to Fox Mulder.

Not knowing what else to do, I began bouncing the small bundle of energy on my knee and couldn't help laughing at his joyous giggles.   His smile was not just contagious but also suspiciously familiar, and I found myself wondering how much more he had inherited from his father. If he had Mulder's sharp inquisitive mind, Scully was going to have her hands full. 

"This one's going to be a charmer," I announced to no one in particular.

"He already is," came Scully's delighted response.

"And a heartbreaker," I warned her.

"Skinner!" she scolded. "I already have enough to worry about without thinking of him DATING, too!"

"Yeah, Walter," Frohike added. "Let's get the kid toilet trained before we turn him into Don Juan!"

I let go with a belly laugh that at first startled young William; he looked puzzled for a moment, then started imitating me.   Charming AND smart--just like his father. "You know, Sharon and I really tried to. . ." and I stopped myself. Now was not the time to be thinking about things like that. My wife--my ex-wife--had wanted children so badly, but it just wasn't meant to be. And maybe it was all for the best in the end--who knows what kind of parent I would have been?

Almost as if she could read my mind, Scully softly said, "You would have been a great father, sir."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dana," I told her, and sincerely meant it. William seemed to be tiring, so I stopped bouncing him, and pulled him in close; he instantly snuggled up to me. Turning to Frohike I informed him, "You better take good care of this little guy."

"Hey, I'm doing my best, Walt," he replied, sounding defensive.

I shot him one of my A.D. scowls, and informed him, "I really hate that name."

"Yeah, I know," he shot back with an impish grin, and I knew I was getting jerked around.

I was about ready to fire off a snappy retort when Langly came bounding into the room and made a beeline for the baby. "Okay, kiddo--I'm back. D'ya miss me?"

<No. I don't want to give him back yet. Just a few more minutes. Please? He's so. . .he's so. . .Mulder. He's all that's left of Mulder. Don't they understand? I miss him so much.>

"Hey, Langly, isn't it about time you save the galaxy or something?" Frohike had hopped off the couch and slung an arm around his partner's shoulders. Looking over at me, he gave me a knowing nod.

<Then again, maybe someone DOES understand after all.>

"But Frohike. . ." Langly started, as the older Gunman interrupted him.

"What about that new game Byers got you for Christmas? Why don't you show it to me?"

"But Mel," Langly whined, "I wanna play with the baby."

"You can play with him tomorrow," Frohike told him, squeezing his shoulder for good measure. "C'mon, we'll go hack into the F.B.I.'s mainframe. That always cheers you up."

I gave them both my sternest glare. "What was that?"

Frohike just brushed me off with a wave of his free hand as he led a still bellyaching Langly away. "Chill, Walt--we never touch your files." He paused for a second, then added, "Well, ALMOST never." With a final wink, they were gone. And I was left holding the baby.

Mulder's baby.

<Dammit, Mulder--where the hell ARE you?!>

DOGGETT:

11:42 P.M.

"For Pete's sake, Monica, stop making cow eyes at the guy and just DO it!"

We were closin' in on the midnight hour, and I was startin' to wonder if my partner was gonna live that long, 'cause I was just about ready to strangle her. "It wouldn't be nice if we didn't go," she had told me. "We'll just stay a few minutes," she had promised me. "Just long enough to toast the New Year," she had insisted.

That was nearly four hours ago.

And for nearly all those four hours, I had to deal with her mooning over John Byers. I now knew that was the only reason we were here--not to be nice, or because Scully had invited us or nothin' like that. But because Mo had wanted to see Byers again.

Shoulda known better. She had talked him up quite a bit at work after her official introduction to the Gunmen a couple months back. They had simply barged into our office one day, unerringly with some obscure information we needed to solve the case we were working on. Don't know how those guys do it--maybe it's better that I don't. I just take their help as it's offered, no strings attached. They're good guys, really, if a bit. . .odd.

But Byers made a definite impression on Ms. Reyes that day, and she has asked both me and Dana on occasion what we knew of him and the other Gunmen. I thought it was just her curious nature. . .

More like her neglected libido, apparently. 

Ah, I don't know why I'm bitchin' so much. I've actually had a pretty good time, if I'm gonna be honest, much better than I thought I would. (And certainly better than sittin' home alone in my boxers, watchin' MTV's Rockin' New Year or somethin' equally mind-numbin' with just a six-pack for company.) It was great to get out and socialize--have a few beers, shoot the shit with some friends. And since I'm bein' completely honest, I suppose I was interested in seeing Frohike and Scully together, because, let's not mince words, that was the most unlikely couple I'd ever known. 

From what I could see, they got along very well. Frohike was by her side most of the night, but not in a domineering, possessive kind of way that some new husbands can have. She seemed to bask in his attentiveness; indeed, she almost glowed. Plus he made her laugh--a lot. Hell, she laughed more in one evening than I think she has in all the time I've known her. <And what an infectious laugh it is, too.> Her smiles (and there were a lot of them) were simply radiant--not those quirky little half-grins she usually gives. No, these were the kind that reached her eyes and made them sparkle.

Damn--Frohike was one lucky guy.

Not that I would have tried somethin' with Dana, mind you. I knew I could never compete against the memory of Mulder, and 'sides, those office romances only lead to trouble. Found that out the hard way a long time ago.  Maybe that's why nothin's ever happened between me and Mo. I can't deny the chemistry's always been there, and she's a helluva gal. We even dated a couple of times many moons ago, but it just didn't feel right. So we both settled for friendship instead. Been friends now a long, LONG time--hell, she's probably the best friend I got.   I'd do anything for her, and likewise, her for me. Sometimes, though, that means endurin' things no man should have to. . .

Like her ravings about John Byers.

In fact, now that I think about it, I see a lot of me and Mo in Frohike and Scully. Or Scully and Mulder, for that matter. A deep friendship, a mutual respect, a lot of special feelings--but not love. Or rather, not a romantic love. I mean, Mel and Dana just didn't act like newlyweds usually act. You know--can't keep their hands off each other, making goo-goo eyes at each other, calling each other by silly little pet names. It was quite obvious they cared deeply for each other, but there was somethin' missin'. A spark, if you will. 

As I sat there and observed the two of them interacting, I could easily slip Mulder into Frohike's place without disrupting the picture; that's how similar the situations were to me. And I had an odd feeling that maybe Dana had found in Frohike a replacement for her ex-partner. 

I wasn't the only one who felt that way, either. A lot of gossip was flyin' around about Dana and her new husband, almost none of it nice. I defended her as much as I could--hey, it's nobody's business but theirs, right? It's not as if Mel weren't a nice guy, and there's more to a person than just his looks. And if Dana was happy, then we should all be happy for her.

I just couldn't help but wonder how happy she really was.

Suddenly there was some movement to my right as Mo stood up and announced, "You know, John, I think you're right. I'm going in." And with that, she smoothed down her sweater, fluffed up her hair, and headed off to make her move. Poor Byers didn't stand a chance.