Title: By Her Side: That Voice Summary: Bill Scully stumbles onto something he never wanted to see and now must learn to keep a secret . . . from his mother. Category: S H MSR warning, but nothing graphic on the screen Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: All characters mentioned were dreamed up by the big surfer dude and are now the property of 10-13 Productions. But they are sooo much fun to play with, so I did. But I put them back on the shelf where I found them. Besides, I think Pat Skipper would love my ideas No infringement of copyrights, old, new or future. Archive: Yes, please Comments: This is dedicated to Brandon Ray and his patient little 'reminders'. He gave me the idea for this one and now he has to take at least a little of the blame. By Her Side: That Voice by Vickie Moseley vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com In my travels around the world, I've discovered something. No matter how old you get, your mother will treat you like you are sixteen years old. It's a great truth. I've noted it from San Diego to Singapore, from Baltimore to Budapest. And it never had a truer expression than in my relationship to my mother. What's even a little harder to understand is why I invariably _revert_ to the mind of a sixteen year old when my mother gets a certain tone to her voice. It never fails. I can only hope that my own beloved little Matty has the same problem with my wife, Tara. If that is the case, the little squirt doesn't stand a chance. And I can sleep peacefully at night. He can never lie, cheat, cause trouble or get arrested if he knows he'll have to face that voice. But sometimes, that can be a problem in itself. I was a little disappointed to find that the cruise I was to take was delayed for two weeks. Plugged toilets. Not something you want to deal with on the high seas. A disabled head is worse than a disabled captain. You can always let the XO steer the ship, but when you gotta go . . . So, since my Captain was getting tired of having me pace a hole in his office, and the head of the plumbing crew was threatening mutiny if I called him one more time, I was sent packing to deliver a report before one of the subcommittees of the Joint Chiefs. Hey, at least it meant a trip to see Mom, if only for a couple of days. I had no sooner walked in the door to her house when Mom had an errand for me to run. A kiss, a hug, and 'Bill, do you think you could do me a favor'. It was only a matter of time, but I'd hoped I'd at least get a cup of coffee. "Bill, your sister's been out of town for a few days and I promised I would water her plants. I completely forgot about it until this morning. Since you're right in the area on your way to your meeting . . ." My Mom has a unique sense of distance. Sure, Georgetown is located in the Piedmont area of the Eastern Coast of the United States, but it's _not_ 'right in the area' of the Pentagon. It's a full hour out of my way, counting on Washington 'sludge' traffic. And I know the area where her new apartment is located. There is _no_ parking around there, none, nadda, zero, zip, zilch. Add more time, finding a parking space where my rental wouldn't be towed. But Mom was using that voice, and so I just smiled through gritted teeth and grabbed my briefcase. If I hurried, I wouldn't be late for my meeting. It wasn't a horrible ride. It was sunny and not even that cold, though I knew the winter would be coming. I rolled the window down, turned the radio up and let the BW Parkway glide beneath my tires. I was almost surprised at how quickly I arrived outside my little sis' apartment. I was shocked when I found a parking space within a block. She's moved to a nicer neighborhood, and I'm happy about that. No more apartments on the first floor. I wonder how much of her new sense of self preservation is due to her partner. Mulder would consider such things, I'm certain of it. Of course, he probably wouldn't bother to consider the price range . . . It's not that I'm slipping in my opinion of Fox Mulder. I've decided that if my sister is going to work in the FBI, I would rather have him by her side than about 90 percent of the guys I could name. He's laid down his life for her, I appreciate that in a prick. Even a prick like Mulder. Doesn't mean I can't see his faults, though. Anyway, Dana's place a nice little brownstone, with a couple of willows in a courtyard. Tara would get all gushy and call it 'quaint' and start rambling on about antique door knockers and walnut stair railings. Tara, the farm girl who loves to watch 'This Old House'. I decided that if I got a chance, I should get some pictures to take home to her. Mom had given me the key, so I didn't bother with the ancient buzzer system. Besides, Danie wasn't supposed to be home. I climbed the two flights of stairs, ignoring the old elevator, and found her door right around the corner. I let myself in. And nearly dropped dead when a very naked Fox Mulder confronted me in the living room. Looking back, it was one of those moments that you just want to remember. Or forget for the rest of your life. I was standing there, key in hand, not bothering to close the door. Mulder was standing there in all his glory, wearing nothing by the Smith and Wesson pistol in his hand. I think we both screamed. Mulder made a dash for a couch cushion, and I have to admit that he did a good job of not dropping the gun on the way. I remember thinking that he was moving a lot better than he had the last time I'd seen him, two weeks ago. I just stood there. My mouth was probably open, which would account for Dana's greeting. "For God's sakes, Bill, close the door and your mouth!" I did as I was told, more from shock than any desire to please my sister. Looking at her wasn't much better than looking at Mulder, sitting on the couch with one of those foo-foo couch pillows on his lap. Dana, my little sister Dana, was standing in the arch to the hallway, wearing a man's white button down shirt. It was buttoned in just a couple of places, mostly with the wrong holes, and left nothing to the imagination. She was even barefoot. What she did next really threw me for a loop. She hurried over to the couch and sat down next to her partner and put her hand on his face. "Mulder, are you all right?" Was _he_ all right? I was the one in cardiac arrest! I was in rapt attention, watching them. Mulder had his eyes closed, was breathing a little heavy. Finally, he opened them, looked at her and nodded. "I'm fine, really, Scully. Just moved a little fast, that's all." I'm sure it wasn't the first time that morning that he'd 'moved a little fast', but I was trying to push that picture out of my mind. "Well, you shouldn't be running!" I would have giggled if the circumstances hadn't been so dire. The man was naked, sitting on her couch, and she was telling him he shouldn't be running? He probably shouldn't have been _walking_, if I was right in my suspicions. He was still on medical leave, and if I wasn't mistaken, he'd been an active participant in some pretty strenuous exercise. "Uh, Scully, . . . maybe Bill wouldn't mind making some coffee and you could, uh, get me some clothes?" Ordinarily, I would have told the prick where to stick the coffee, but I wanted out of that room as much as he wanted some privacy, so I trudged off to find where my sister hides the 'good' coffee. And a shot of Irish Whiskey which I knew was in the cabinet above the refrigerator. All Scully's keep the Wild Irish Rose there, it's tradition. When I returned, with three steaming mugs, mine steaming more than theirs, order reigned. Mulder was sitting in the same spot on the couch, except now he was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a matching FBI Academy sweatshirt. My sister sat next to him, wearing a tight pair of jeans and a pink Angora sweater and had managed to stick a pair of sneakers on her feet. For some reason, I felt better when I saw that she had shoes on. I know it's stupid, but it's me. "So, Bill, when did you get in?" Dana asked, trying for all the world not to sound like a woman just caught flagrante indelecto. "This morning," I supplied. Confession time. Now that I'd had a couple of minutes to calm down, the whole situation was striking me as damned funny. "And you just happened to stop by, unannounced, with my key?" Dana continued, sipping her coffee and giving me a look I haven't seen on her face in years. I'm certain if I said the wrong thing, I would have been torn limb from limb. "I went to Mom's first. She said _you_ were out of town and she forgot to water your plants." Aha! The tables were now turned. Dana coughed, but I think it was to hide her surprise. "I forgot to tell Mom when I got in last night." I looked square at Mulder. "You probably had other things on your mind." Score one for the Swabbie. Mulder's damned fun to watch when he's squirming, but I had found that out before. "Bill, I know you think you know what you walked in on . . ." "You mean you weren't giving my sister a bare skin massage?" I asked innocently. Geez, the guy can blush like a choir boy! "Bill," Dana said in a threatening voice. "What we do on our on time, in my home . . ." I couldn't help it, I broke out laughing. They both looked at me like I was out of my mind and that just made it funnier. Finally, I had to say something. "Look, you guys, fair is fair. Danie, you're absolutely right, it is your house. I broke in, it was my fault. And to be honest, I really don't think it's my place to cast judgement here. For the record, there are worse things you two could be doing," I added with a wink to Mulder, who blushed even redder. "You aren't mad?" Dana asked, her voice getting that real high range it does when she's confused. "Not mad. As a matter of fact, I'd like to think I had a hand in this." They both looked shocked for a moment. "I mean, I did suggest it, after all. Of course, if you ever do anything to upset my sister, Mulder, I'll be honor bound to kick the shit out of you and feed you to the sharks," I said casually. Mulder grinned. "Of course. I would expect nothing less, Bill." "Good. Boy, talk about stopping my heart. You would have drilled me a couple times before I could have let out a yell, Mulder! So, what does Mom say about all this? The least she could have done was warn me." The room was completely silent but there was a hell of a lot of talking going on. Two sets of eyes, my sister's blue, Mulder's brown, seemed to be arguing full tilt. Finally, Dana broke her eyes away and looked over to me. "Mom doesn't know, Bill. And I want to keep it that way." "Scully, I don't like . . ." Dana put up her hand and Mulder stopped like she'd pulled a plug out of a socket. "Mulder, we've talked about this. If we tell _my_ Mom, I think we should tell _your_ Mom. And then we won't know who _they_ tell and it could get back to the Bureau and we both know what a mess that will cause. It's just too dangerous. Bill, you have to swear that you won't breath a word of this to anyone. Not Tara, not Charlie and especially, _not_ Mom." I could understand not telling Charlie. I mean we used to have an expression: 'Tell a phone, tell a graph, tell a Charlie'. The kid couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his soul. How he ended up in Naval Intelligence is something I still have nightmares about. But Tara? I mean, I won the bet, after all. She said six months, I said two weeks. I don't win that many bets with Tara! I was all set to collect. That was going to be hard. But maybe if I just let it slip . . . I'd work on that one. The worst, by far was Mom. I looked over at Mulder, who shrugged back. "She has a point, Bill. If the Bureau found out, well, they wouldn't do anything to me, but it would screw Dana's career chances. It's not like there's a written policy on it, but it's still an 'old boys club' over there and they really look down on the woman of the pair when there's a sexual relationship. I don't want that to happen. Your sister's too good at her job to have to put up with that kind of shit." When put that way, I could see their point. I was just going to have to keep their secret. "That doesn't mean I like sneaking around, mind you. I would tell your Mom in a minute, if Scully'd let me. But it's her call. I hope you understand." I did, really I did. Hell, I'd been there myself. Tara and I started sleeping together before her senior year in college. We got engaged shortly after that, but we knew the wedding was a year off. That meant a year of keeping it quiet, not letting my family or her five brothers, in on the secret. God, I remember praying every second week of the month, even though I knew she was on the pill. "How long are you planning on keeping this a secret?" I asked. I had to know. I needed a date when I could let the cat out of the bag. Mulder shrugged and deferred to Dana again. She shrugged back. "We don't know. We're working on it. Believe me, Bill, I don't like this either. But Mulder's right. It would really mess up our professional relationship. We work so well together, we can't have them using this as an excuse to bench us or whatever. We'll just have to wait and see." I glanced down at my watch. "Shit, I have to get to a meeting. Look, your secret is safe with me, but don't expect it to stay that way. Mom has her sources and I'm not the only one." I remember Mom confronting me one weekend when I got shore leave about two months before our wedding. One little motel room receipt, somehow forgotten in my shirt pocket, and the jig was up. Mom was the one they needed in Naval Intelligence. "We know," Dana said, getting up to see me to the door. When she opened it, she pulled me aside. "You're really OK with this?" she asked. For a minute, we were back in time, my baby sister asking if she could borrow my bike to ride to the beach. I smiled at her. "More than OK. I told you, Danie, he's a good man. Now, I better get going or I'll be facing a firing squad." I leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Better feed him, Dana. He's gonna need his strength." She socked me in the arm, but it felt good. I grinned all the way to the car. The meeting went well. As I was leaving, I took the opportunity to find a phone and called the head of the plumbing crew back home, just to check on things. Need parts, another three days, at least. Before I was out of the building, my CO was calling to inform me that my stay was now a 'shore leave' and I was to 'take some time to visit with my family, away from any phones.' Well, that was clear enough. I got back to Mom's all set to take her out to a nice quiet dinner. Mom, of course, had other plans. "They were dead, weren't they?" I'm sure I looked pretty confused. "The plants at Dana's apartment, they were dead, right?" The plants? Oh yeah, the damned plants. Geez, I hadn't even bothered to look at the damned plants. Dana was there, she could water them. If she could pry her hands off Mulder. "Mom, Dana got back last night. The plants are in good hands," I told her. "Hey, I'm taking you out to dinner. Name your pleasure, Italian, Chinese, Thai . . ." "Bill, how sweet. Hey, since Dana's back in town, let's see if she and Fox can join us? Fox has been cooped up in his apartment for two weeks and I know he'd appreciate a little time out. And Dana's been so worried about him. She deserves a break, too. Besides, Tara tells me you and Fox are getting along better now, and you were such a help when he was in the hospital." How fast could I drive back to San Diego? And my wife's big mouth? The last thing I wanted to do was spend the evening with a couple of love birds. Especially when I knew they were love birds, but the other member of our party, our Mother, wasn't supposed to know. "Oh, Mom, I'm sure Dana's tired after the trip. And Mulder probably has a special diet, still. He's not that good about following doctor's orders all the time." "Oh nonsense. Unless there's some other reason you don't want them to go, William." There is was. That tone of voice. That 'what are you really up to William Dennis Scully' tone of voice. I had to tread lightly here. Besides, with the two of them right there at the table, maybe they would act as a distraction for Mom. And Mom would never ask any questions about them with the two of them sitting there. "No other reason, Mom. You're right, it would be a nice break for them. Why don't I call Dana and she can call Mulder and set it up?" It sounded like a rational plan. I mean, it would work. So why was my stomach churning? ****************************************************************** Antonio's Italian Restaurant, Bethesda. Nice place. Dana's idea. And it allowed us to 'meet in the middle' instead of us picking them up. I was lulled into a false sense of security from the outset. Mom loves Italian food. And not just spaghetti, which I figure she saw way too much of while we were growing up. Grilled chicken alfredo. I decided the lasagna looked good. Dana went for the baked mostaccoli and Mulder opted for a Tuscan steak, even though I distinctly felt my sister kicking him under the table. He took the kick, but still ordered the steak. I was actually beginning to like the guy. "So, Fox, how have you been occupying your time while you're on medical leave?" Mom asked after our salads had been served. I _knew_ what he'd been up to, so I tried hard not to choke, and ended up sputtering lettuce across my breadsticks. "I've been watching a lot of videos," Mulder replied and Dana sputtered water across _her_ breadsticks. I just knew I was in for an entertaining evening. "Well, I have a nice collection of John Wayne movies, if you're interested," Mom said, giving both Dana and I looks that would have chilled our hearts as children. Come to think of it, that look still chills my heart. "That might be fun. Westerns or war movies?" And so we entered into a lively discussion of how John Wayne did some great Westerns and some passable war movies, but his by far greatest role was the ex-boxer turned Irish country gentleman in 'The Quiet Man'. Mom's always been a sucker for that movie. I remember having to sit through it every St. Paddy's Day, even if it meant staying up past our bedtimes. Dinner came and we dug into our food. I noticed Mulder had a little difficulty with his steak, or more specifically, his knife. Then, I remembered, hey, this guy had major surgery on his _chest_ just a couple of weeks ago. I watched him for a few minutes and couldn't stop myself. I started to reach over to give him a hand when a sharp pain struck my shin. I looked over at Dana but she was busy putting romano cheese on a breadstick. I reached out once more and the pain struck again. I realized it was Mom. Mom looked at me and slowly shook her head. I didn't know what she meant, I was just trying to help the guy. Then she looked at me, then to Mulder and finally to Dana. I was still pretty confused, but decided if I was getting out of the restaurant without major bone damage, I better just let it be. In a minute, Dana looked over at Mulder. He was trying hard not to grimace as he pushed the knife across the piece of meat and it was making my chest muscles hurt just looking at him. She rolled her eyes and tapped his hand. An amazing thing happened. I don't consider Mulder a pansy. I mean, sure, he's a prick, but I've seen him mad and he's not what I would call 'limp wristed'. But when Dana raised one eyebrow, he sighed and handed her the steak knife and fork. She smiled and quickly cut the steak into nice, almost perfectly equal little bite sized pieces. Then she handed the utensils back to Mulder and returned to putting romano on anything that didn't move on her plate. He let her cut his meat. In public. I could count on one hand the number of times I'd let Tara do that. No, on second thought, I've _never_ let Tara do that. But then, I've never been shot in the chest, either. My mouth was hanging open I think, because Mom took the opportunity to 'call' on me. "So, Bill, why is your ship still in port?" "Uh, plumbing problems," I said, not going into details over dinner. She screwed up her face. "The worst. You can always let the XO handle the helm . . ." That's my Mom. She should be an admiral by now. "Plumbing problems on a ship?" Mulder broke in. Oh, shit, he was really going to ask. "What kind? A leak?" Dana bit her lip, she'd already figured out what was wrong with the ship. Mom was trying hard to look nonchalant, since it was obvious Mulder had no clue as to the table discussion he was entering into. I swallowed and answered. "Bathroom problems." Mulder thought about that for a moment, then the light dawned. "Ohhh, uh, yeah. I can see where that would be a problem." He went back to spearing steak pieces and the only sound was that of mastication. Again, I was congratulating myself on how well the evening was going. Here we were, the four of us, and so far, Mom hadn't caught on that Mulder and Dana were 'doing the nasty', and I hadn't made Dana mad, or had Mom yell at me for my table manners. I was beginning to feel like I was 38 years old after all. The dinner plates were cleared and I'd actually convinced Mom to indulge in some black tie cheesecake, which Dana offered to sample, when the other shoe finally hit the deck. "Fox, I know it's not my place, but I've been so worried about you, rattling around that apartment by yourself. I really wish you'd take me up on the offer to come stay in Baltimore for a few days. At least until you're fully back on your feet." The look in her eyes, that 'I'm a mother and I'm worried about you' look, was enough to make me mist over. Mulder looked like she'd just knifed him in the heart. "Umm, Mrs. Scully, umm, it's a . . . well, it's an incredibly generous offer. But I'm getting along fine, really. And I still have all those frozen dinners you brought over when I got back," he said with a depreciating smile that I wish I had perfected as a teenager. "That's not what I mean, Fox. I saw how much using that knife hurt you. What if you fell in the bathroom? With Dana all the way in Georgetown . . . and what if you couldn't get to a phone?" She was getting very adamant and it was really hard to watch. I mean, she was truly worried. Now, a few months ago, I would have been ready to blow my top. I mean, she's our mother, not his. But in the last couple of weeks, I've realized that, like it or not, Fox Mulder is now a part of our family. Well, as much as Charlie's wife, and my Tara are part of the family. And if I want my wife treated with love and respect, I have to treat my little sister's . . . 'partner' with that same . . . whatever. So, I was feeling rather good about the fact that my blood pressure was almost level and I had the good sense to try and ease my mother's worry. "Mom, don't worry. He's not alone. Dana's right there . . ." THUMP That one resulted in a definite bruise and I knew I wouldn't be running for a few days. My little sister wears shoes that should be listed as lethal weapons. "What Bill means, is that I stop by over there every night after work, Mom. To check up on him. You know, Mulder never takes his medicine unless I'm standing over him. So it's not like he's there, all by himself, 24 hours a day," Dana interrupted my sentence. Good thing, too. I was in too much pain to continue. "And it doesn't take that long to get from your place to mine, either," Mulder chimed in and for a moment, I was afraid he was going to need crutches. Fortunately for him, Dana let it ride. Mom was watching the three of us like a hawk. Or better, like a chickenhawk, staring down on the chicken coop. She could smell it. There was something going on and she wasn't on the information pipeline. But, by God, she would be before the evening was over. "Mulder. Hey, care to go to the men's room?" I asked quickly, before Mom could come up with a line of interrogation. Dana's mouth dropped to the table. Mulder looked at me like he'd decided I really _was_ the crazy bastard of the family, and he wouldn't be caught dead in a room with me alone. Mom just raised an eyebrow in my direction. "I mean, uh, I know you need some help walking sometimes, and uh, I . . ." A really weird thing happened at that moment. I was staring at Mulder, praying that he would at least go along with me, and all of a sudden, it was like he understood what I was trying to say. It wasn't the same 'total communion' kind of silent conversations he has with my sister, but it was enough for the moment. "You know, Bill, that's a very considerate offer. Yes, I think I would like to go to the men's room." And he started to rise, but put on quite a few winces and groans to make it appear that my offer was not out of line. By this time, Dana was ready to go into orbit. She was trying to figure out a way to excuse herself and come with us, but of course, that would have been totally inappropriate. So she had to be content with squirming in her seat, sending invisible smoke signals to her partner from across the table. We were in the little hall outside the men's room when Mulder let me have it. "What the hell is wrong with you, Bill? Guys _don't_ go to the bathroom in twos! That's a 'woman's thing!" "Shut up and listen. Mom's on the trail of something. Now, it's not exactly common knowledge, but if any of us have any investigative skills, it comes from Mom's side of the family. Dad couldn't find the way to the bathroom in the morning without a sextant and a computer chart. If you think Dana's good at sniffing out the dirt, you've never met Mom on a good day." The light bulb went off in his beady little brain. "Oh, shit . . ." "Oh, shit is right," I agreed wholeheartedly. "We might not be sunk yet, but we're listing pretty badly to starboard and our port engines are about gone." "What can we do?" he demanded. I have to say this much about him, when he senses danger, he is a man of action. "You're sick," I told him. "No, I'm not," he argued. "No, dumbass, we tell Mom you're sick," I explained in my best 'I'm trying not to kill you but you are so damned stupid' voice I used to use with Charlie on a daily basis. He went a little pale and shook his head. "I can't. I can't, Bill. I can't lie to your Mom. Not to her face." I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. "I could punch you in the chest. Then you wouldn't be lying," I sneered. "I'll fake it," he answered quickly enough that he must have thought I was serious. "What about Scully, uh, Dana?" he said after a moment's consideration. "OK, here's the plan. You stay here and get your coat. I'll go back in and tell Dana that you started feeling bad and you really need to get back home. She'll come back here and you two can head back to her apartment. And for God's sakes, don't do anything in the parking lot, OK? Wait till you get in the door," I said with a leer and a wink. He gave me a look that told me he would shot first next time and I laughed and thumped him on the back. Bad move, because the pained expression told me that it had to hurt. "Sorry," I muttered and went off to rescue my sister. I could hear Mom and Dana talking as I walked up and realized I got there not a moment too soon. "No, Mom, you're being silly. We are _not_ hiding anything from you. Mulder is fine. Really. The doctor thinks he can go back to work in a couple of weeks. He's really being good this time, listening to the doctor and taking it easy." Dana looked up and when she spotted me it was like I was Wayne Newton at Vegas. "Bill, you're back," she announced with delight. Then she noticed I was alone. "Where's Mulder?" "Dana, I'm really sorry, I hate to ruin your evening, but Mulder's not feeling well. I left him on one of the chairs out by the door. He said he just got really tired all of a sudden. Maybe you should get him back to his place." Mother shot a look over to Dana like her worst suspicions had just be confirmed and got up from the table. "I _knew_ something was wrong," she declared and marched off the way I'd just come. "What did you do to him?" Dana demanded, grabbing my sleeve as she headed off after Mom. I held my place and put my hand on her shoulder, holding her back. "I didn't touch him. He's fine, really. I just knew Mom was going to spend the rest of the evening on a fishing expedition and I wanted you two to make your getaway before things got out of hand," I assured her. "Well, if you hadn't opened your big mouth," Dana accused, "she wouldn't be suspicious! Besides, she's way off course. She thinks Mulder injury was more serious than we let her know. She's afraid he's pushing himself too hard to get back to work and he's going to have a relapse. She isn't anywhere near thinking that we're sleeping together," Dana hissed as she shook off my hand. "And now that he's acting sick, she thinks I really have been lying to her!" I said the only thing I could think of. "Opps?" "Damn it, Billy. I just wish you'd learn to keep your mouth shut," she growled. "Hey, you're the one with the deep, dark, secret, here, Short Stuff!" I hissed back. "If you'd just tell Mom that you and Mulder are screwin' around . . ." She balled up her fist and for a moment, I swear, I was sure my sister was gonna let me have it right in the middle of the restaurant. But she's a lady. At least, that's what Mom has always told her. "Just you wait, Bill Scully. It's gonna come someday, and when it does, it's not going to be pretty," she promised through perfectly straight clenched teeth. Great. My sister has a hit out on me and I was just trying to help. I was one step behind her when we caught up to Mom and Mulder. Poor Mulder, I really did feel sorry for him. I knew it was the stress of 'playing sick' around Mom, but he was white as a sheet and I think his hands were trembling. For all the world, he did look like he was going to pass out right then and there. Mom was all over him like wax on a kitchen floor. "Fox, I won't hear another word. We're taking you passed the emergency room and if they don't keep you, you're coming back to my house where I can make _sure_ you're getting the rest you need. You are not a teenager anymore, you know. Getting shot in the chest . . ." She stopped and one of the tears that had been clinging to her lashes took a nosedive and raced down her face. I felt about two inches tall when I realized that my little game was making my mother cry. Apparently, it had the same affect on Mulder. "Mrs. Scully, Maggie," he said, grabbing her hand in both of his. "Please. There's nothing to be so upset about. I just . . . I just pushed it a little too hard tonight. I just wanted to have a nice evening with you and Dana and . . ." I'm pretty sure he choked on this one, "Bill. You're right, though. Maybe I do need someone to look after me." He stared hard at Dana. The moment of truth. Oh my God, I thought the asshole was agnostic. Here he was, sitting on an overstuffed chair in the lobby of Antonio's and he was about to go to confession. He couldn't lie to my mother, either. My God, did the voice work on _everyone_? Dana saw it too and was trying all the non-verbal voo doo looks she could muster to seal his mouth shut. All to no avail, he was looking only at my mother. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have looking out for me for a couple of days . . . then you," he said, giving her hand a light kiss. "I would really like to come to Baltimore. Maybe just till the weekend." I'll be damned if the little shit didn't get us all out of hot water. Dana started breathing again. I figured I was safe, at least until I got back to San Diego and then I'd just make sure I didn't talk to Mom too long when we made our bi-monthly phone calls home. Everything was going to be all right. "That's wonderful, Fox," Mom said, pulling him up and into a hug. He hugged her back and when it started to get embarrassing, he pulled back and handed his coat to Dana, who helped him put it on. The rest of us got our coats and headed out the door. I was thinking things couldn't have been better. "Fox, it will be good for you," Mom was saying as I held open the door for her. "You'll get the rest you need, I'll put a little meat on those bones. You and Bill can share the boys room. You can sleep in Charlie's old bed." Well, it would have been too much to hope for, _everything_ turning out all right. the end. Vickie vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "We're gonna party like it's 1999" HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^