From: yankeestarbuck@yahoo.com   
      
   part 2   
      
   *-*-*-*   
      
   Decorating the house is an experience.  Sarah's philosophy is:   
   start at the top and work your way down.  So, of course, we start   
   with Shannon's rooms.  Walter gave Sarah detailed drawings of the   
   furniture and the dimensions, which almost stopped the process.   
   Walter stands his ground and the decorating goes on.  She does have   
   great ideas for Shannon's rooms, doing the bedroom in peach which   
   matches the bathroom, but opposes the blue of her playroom.   
   Shannon likes blue, but both rooms would be too much.  Walter even   
   agrees to paint the furniture, which is something I rarely see him   
   do.  He loves natural wood.   
      
   Our room and the sitting room are done in manly colors, but we stop   
   her at the paneling.  I refuse to put wood on a wall.  It will feel   
   like a bad seventies basement.  I couldn't live with that.  She   
   doesn't carpet our rooms like she did with Shannon's rooms.  We   
   have these lovely Turkish rugs she found very cheap on the   
   internet.  I did verify they were real Turkish rugs, since I   
   recognize the workmanship.  She asked me how I came to spend time   
   in Turkey, but I fobbed it off that it was during my last career.   
      
   The guest rooms I tell her to just do something neutral and   
   pleasing.  It's for guests, so it shouldn't be outrageous, but it   
   should be comfortable.  She does the living room the same way,   
   since we'll hardly use that room.  There won't be a television in   
   there.  That will be the den.  That room she does up right with a   
   work area and a play area.  The television is one of those massive   
   ones that is almost like a movie screen in the house.   
      
   Well, now I know where that extra million dollars went.  Yes, it   
   takes that much money to decorate this place top to bottom.  To   
   show good faith, I pay for it.  Walter paid for the house, after   
   all.  Everything is in both our names though.  When finally Kelly   
   tells us we can move in, we've packed our clothes, personal things   
   we want like photos and the like, dry goods that will eventually go   
   bad back at the house, and anything we can think of.  I won't leave   
   the books, videos or music at the cabin.  Shannon insists on the   
   video game we got her and William.   
      
   I think about Mulder, Scully and William visiting.  They'll love   
   this house and we won't be on top of each other.  They can stay   
   longer than a weekend.  Well, that's if Scully can stand me for   
   that long.  Sometimes I wonder if she doesn't still hold a kernel   
   of hate for me over her sister.  I just don't mention it.   
      
   Moving day is exciting.  Walter loads the Range Rover and I load   
   the Hummer.  He takes Shannon and the dogs in his truck because he   
   has better shocks.  We've turned off the cable to the house, but   
   not the power or the phone lines for the security system.   
   Officially, we have moved.   
      
   I can't help but let a few tears fall as I drive down the mountain   
   for the last time, probably, as an inhabitant.  This was the first   
   real home I'd ever known, that I could recall.  The cabin was where   
   Walter and I fell in love, after I crawled back to him.  I hurt him   
   so badly that day, when I made him have sex with me.  He's forgiven   
   me, we've discussed it, sober and not so sober, and I have allowed   
   him to forgive me.  I just won't ever forgive myself.   
      
   At the house, Shannon is trying to corral the dogs to get them into   
   the house.  Walter is waiting for me, but I don't know why.  I walk   
   over and say, "What's up?"   
      
   "I'm waiting for you.  I want to do something."  He has a strange   
   look on his face.   
      
   I walk over and say, "What do you..."   
      
   And I don't get a chance to ask the whole question as he sweeps me   
   up into his arms and carries me into the house through the door   
   that Shannon has conveniently left open.  He puts me down in the   
   foyer and kisses me.  "I love you, Sasha.  Welcome home."   
      
   He must be able to read my mind, thinking about a home.  He's the   
   most amazing man I've ever known.  We find the three dogs crawling   
   all over the new furniture, getting fur and slobber on things.  I   
   had warned Sarah about the dogs, so all of the furniture was   
   treated for stains.  There's only one problem that I can see about   
   this house.  Keeping it clean.  We'll never be able to do that.  I   
   don't particularly care about that right now.   
      
   Shannon runs over and jumps into my arms, asking,  "When can we   
   eat?"   
      
   "Oh, we've got a lot to do.  Why don't we start by getting the food   
   into the cabinets and make sure we agree where everything goes?"   
      
   "Good idea.  We'll start in the kitchen, then we'll unpack the   
   trucks.  We can start with the beds today, but clothes can be   
   unpacked in time, yes?"   
      
   "How do you know?" Shannon asks him.  She gives him a dubious look.   
      
   "I've moved quite a few times in my life, Shannon.  From the   
   Marines, to college, to my first apartment, then when I was   
   married, and about three more times after that.  I pretty much know   
   what I'm doing.  We'll do a little every day and it won't take so   
   long."   
      
   She nods and walks into the kitchen.  That day is wrought with   
   struggles, where do the cans go, where do the cereal boxes go, and   
   we come to the conclusion, we will need a stepstool for Shannon.   
   Walter volunteers to build it, but asks me to paint it.  I've found   
   I have a talent at painting intricate designs on things.  I have a   
   vague memory that my mother did that, painted nesting dolls,   
   matryoshka.  I did it on one headboard for an order, and I did it   
   for all of Shannon's furniture, painting unicorns and dolphins on   
   things, which she loves in equal amounts.   
      
   By the end of the day, we're exhausted.  The phone company is   
   coming tomorrow to put in jacks where we want them.  It seems the   
   Wainwrights had two phones in the house, one in the master bedroom,   
   one in the kitchen.  We'll need extensions all over the house, both   
   our lines, the designated one for the security system the Gunmen   
   will be by to install, even though I'm still technically employed   
   with a security company on a consulting basis.  Walter needs a jack   
   in the work shed, we should have one by the pool and I want Shannon   
   to have one.   
      
   Walter and I lay together in our bed, clean sheets on it, prettily   
   decorated around the bed frame we made together.  His hand is on my   
   belly, rubbing circles.  "We have a great house, Vlad," I say to   
   him.   
      
   "Yes, Sasha, we do.  You made a solid choice.  Did you see all the   
   copper piping in the basement?"  He rolls towards me and begins   
   kissing my neck.   
      
   "Yes, I saw that on my first visit.  I should have looked in the   
   attic, sorry," I say, noticing he's nibbling on my earlobe.   
      
   "Does all this house-talk turn you on?" I ask, as he moves down my   
   throat.   
      
   "Yes.  It's finally something real for both of us.  We're married,   
   we own the house together, we've got the kid, it's real."  His kiss   
   is swift and strong.  I'm almost over-taken by his all encompassing   
   kiss.  He's on top of me, laying between my legs, on my chest, with   
   his arms around me to bring me closer to him.  His tongue is   
   relearning me, stroking my collar bones, teasing my nipples and   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)