From: "Dream Cole" Date: Tue, 18 Apr 2000 15:28:51 CDT Subject: xfc: NEW: Bouquets (1 of 1), PG, MSR Source: xfc Title: Bouquets Author: Dream Cole E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com Rating: PGish. Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have children. This is kind of a continuation of the Dream Series, although it is quite obvious what happened. If you are missing a piece, let me know and I'd be happy to get it to you. Summary: A sick day means some father-daughter bonding and bouquets of flowers. Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. Neither do Winnie the Pooh and Veggie Tales. Those are great programs though and I highly recommend them for young children. Notes: If you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names, sometimes Dana. But Mulder is still Mulder. Bouquets "Sweetie, wake up," my wife tugs on the sheets, whispering in my ear the time. "We're going to be late for work." "Don't wanna." Okay, so me and speaking full sentences in the morning is just a bit too much to ask. When I finally fall asleep, boy do I sleep. "C'mon, it's time to get up Mulder." The tugging was getting more impatient and, as much as I hate getting her mad, I *really* did not feel like going to work. So I voiced my opinion. Struggling to open my eyes, I squinted and was able to make out the flame-red of her hair. "Scully, I'm calling in sick today. Tell him I feel sick." Her jaw dropped when she saw that I was serious. "Look, I'll take care of Dream with me today, just... let me stay home. You can stay home too if you want to..." I said, suggestively. Her face was of utter disgust. "That's okay. I'll tell Skinner you and Dream are staying home today. Just when I get home... I expect the house to be intact." "Scout's honor. Now, let me sleep!" I muttered into the pillow. The sounds of Dana getting ready for works faded as I drifted back to sleep. "Da." Hmmm. Why can't people let other people sleep? "Da," came again, followed by an incessant patting on my head. I listened as the sheets rustled and groaned as my daughter jumped on top of my stomach, making her giggle. "Da-da." "Okay, I'm up, I'm up," I reached around her chin and tickled her, planting kisses all over her face. My daughter. It still made me smile. Nearly two years old already, walking and talking. Her strawberry-brown hair was getting long and had slight curls to it so we tended to pull them up into pigtails. Clich, I know, but it made her look so cute. "Should we have some breakfast?" She nodded her head vehemently and I struggled to get out of bed. Placing her in the high chair, I rustled up some food and served breakfast. I loved the precious time I have with my daughter. That's why I call in sick at least a couple of times a month, as does my wife. Just to spend time with Dream, just the two of us. I pull her hair into the two pigtails and let her pick out her outfit: a blue dress. I help her get ready, then we make out way outside to find things to do. It's a beautiful July day. August will be Dream's birthday. She's getting so big. I figure we'll make our way to the park and then waste time. Then we can have some lunch, take a nap and be bright-eyed and happy by the time Mommy gets home. "Fow-er." Dream declares happily. I stop and look at her. "Fow-er." She says again, pointing eagerly. I follow her finger and see a flower shop, filled with all kinds of flowers. Wait, who taught her how to say flower? "Should we buy some flowers for Mommy?" When she nods her head I take her hand and we go into the store. The fragrance of various flowers fill the air and Dream is almost overcome with awe at the number of different flowers that are here. We walk around and I point out different kinds of flowers, only to be rejected with a serious shake of the head- "NO!" She pulls at my hand and leads the way and I follow my daughter until she stops. "Fow-er." A simple daisy stares back at us, the white petals surrounding the yellow center, so beautiful and simple and utterly perfect. "Daisy." I tell her and watch as she struggles to form the word. "Should we buy Mommy some daisies?" I help her pick out some daisies and then we let the shop owner decorate it with baby's breath and a bow. I head towards the park but she refuses to go and points back in the direction of the house. Kids these days. You can never understand them. We waste the time by watching videos- among them: Winnie the Pooh and Veggie Tales- then we practice. My wife loves feeling loved and what better way to do so than by being told she is loved. "I love you," I tell Dream. She stares blankly at me. I try again. "I love you you you you you." I say, pointing her finger into her stomach and making her giggle. Taking her finger, she points to my stomach. "You." My turn. "I love you." "You." I give up. Well, she's got a third of it down. We hear the key turn in the lock then watch as my other beautiful red-head walks into the room. I direct Dream and watch happily as she presents her mother with the bouquet of daisies. "I know they're nothing special, but she insisted," I explain. "They're perfect," she sighes, picking up Dream and smothering her with kisses. They need some time alone. I decide to make my way into the other room when I hear, so soft I think I'm imagining it, "Wuv you." My wife and I gasp and exchange glances. Perfect. Author's note: I'm a sucker for daisies, what can I say. I haven't written anything in a while and I've missed all the encouraging feedback! So write me!