Title:  Confronting the Facts
Author:  Vickie Moseley  
Spoiler:  DeadAlive (seeing the last scene of this ep is a necessity 
for the enjoyment of this story)
Summary:  Continuing the scene after the door closed at the end of 
DeadAlive.
Category:  MSR, A
Rating:  G
Disclaimer:  I'm not condoning season 8, I'm clarifying the obvious.  
Not infringing of any copyright.
Archive:  yes
Note:  no Doggetts were harmed in the writing of this fiction.  
However, no confabulations were made, either.  I say 'em as I see 
'em.
Comments to vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

Confronting the Facts
By Vickie Moseley  
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

Even though the door closed quietly, Mulder stirred at the sound of
the click.  She brushed her fingers across his forehead and down his
temple, soothing him.

"Shh, it's all right.  Go back to sleep."

She probably didn't even get the whole thought out of her mouth before
his breathing deepened and he slipped back into a healing slumber.  
She kissed him on the lips, then pushed herself out of the chair and
went to the door.

She saw the man's retreating back heading for the elevators.  Luck was
with her and she had just enough time to catch him before the next car
arrived.

"Agent Doggett," she called to him, and he turned around.  It looked
like guilt in his features, but she could never really tell with him.

"Ah, Agent Scully.  I was . . . I was just . . . I came by . . .I
din't want to interrupt anythin'," he sputtered and jammed his finger
on the button calling another elevator because the one he'd been
waiting for had just closed its doors.

"Did you need to see me, Agent Doggett?" she asked, watching his face
for any sign that it might be something about the investigation, maybe
word on the whereabouts of Billy Miles or even Alex Krycek.

"I just, . . . I wanted to make sure you were OK," he admitted, giving
her a look as good as the one she was giving him.

Her smile felt foreign to her.  It had been so long since she'd had
anything to smile about.  "I'm fine,"  she said, and then laughed
silently at herself.

"What?" he asked, confused by her reaction.

"Oh, nothing," she tried to get herself back under control, but
couldn't keep the smile off her face.  "I just, . . . I used to say
that a lot, even when it wasn't true.  This time, I really mean it and
it just feels strange."

"Oh," was his response.  "Well, if everything's all right, I'll get
goin'," he said, dropping his gaze from her and turning back to the
elevator.

She was somewhat confused by his reaction.  She couldn't let him leave
without trying to understand what was bothering him.  She tugged at
his sleeve.  "Hey, buy me a cup of coffee?"

He looked confused at first and then slowly gave her a sad smile.  
"Sure.  Yeah, I'll buy you a cup.  In the cafeteria?"

"Let me tell the nurses where I'll be," she said with a nod and went
to give that information to the desk nurse while he waited for another
elevator.

They made their way through the cafeteria line, grabbing cups for the
coffee urn that was self-serve.  As they were about to leave the food
line, Scully's stomach growled loud enough for her to blush.  "I think
we better feed that thing, before it attacks,"  Doggett joked and
nodded toward the food offerings.  Scully sheepishly took a chef's
salad, then snagged an apple Danish, a cup of strawberry- banana
yogurt and a dish of orange jello with pinapple and carrots.  
Meanwhile, Doggett had poured their coffee and returned, smiling in
approval at her selections.

"Makin' up for lost time," he teased as he led her to the cashier.  
He put the coffee cups on her tray and reached for his wallet.  
"We're together," he told the girl behind the cash register.
 
"No, Agent Doggett, I was teasing," Scully protested, trying to put
the tray down fast enough to reach into her pocket for her change
wallet.  His hand stopped her.

"I'm just happy to see you eatin' again.  You know, in all the time
we've been partners, I don't think I've ever seen you eat more than a
few bites at any one time."

Her cheeks were flushed from embarrassment.  "I had morning sickness
for a while."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, letting her lie for both their sakes.  "That
must have been it."

They found seats near the exit.  She took her time, digging into the
chef salad.  He played with the small container of half and half and
stirred his coffee long enough to churn it to butter.  Finally, she
put down her fork.

"So, what's bothering you, Agent Doggett?" she asked, getting to the
point.  There was no use dancing around the issue.  The look on his
face when he'd opened Mulder's door spoke volumes and she wanted it
out and dealt with.

"Nothin'.  Nothin's botherin' me, Agent Scully.  Everything's just
rosy."  He put his spoon down and took a sip, grimacing at the too
creamy taste.  "Mulder's back, he's alive.  You got everything you
wanted.  Everything's just fabulous."

She bit her lip.  "Agent Doggett . . ."

"He's the father, isn't he?" Doggett blurted out.  "He's the father of
your baby."

She looked down at her lap.  "That's not really any .  . ."

"Of my business, yes, you've made that perfectly clear.  The truth is
very important, so important that we go to all lengths, we dig up dead
bodies and bring them back to life, all in the name of the truth.  
But god forbid we answer a simple question," he spat out.

Her hurt expression doused his anger.  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have
said that.  I have no right, it's not my business . . ."

"I wanted to tell the baby's father before I told the rest of the
world," she said in a voice just above a whisper.  "I've been waiting
months and months to tell him.  I thought I told him after it was too
late.  Now, I'd like to tell him in person, if you don't mind."

He nodded, contrite.  "I'm sorry.  I was out of line."

She smirked at him.  "I can, however, confirm reports to that effect,"
she said and broke into a smile.

He nodded, taking in that information.  For a while, they just sat
there, Scully chewing on her salad and Doggett pretending to sip at
his coffee.  Finally, he set the cup down again and looked at her.  
"How long?"

His question caught her off guard.  He was persistent, relentless in
his prying into her personal life.  Maybe he deserved to know, maybe
he didn't, but she decided to answer him as much as she felt
comfortable in revealing.

"We've been partners for 8 years, Agent Doggett."

"No, I mean . . . nah, ain't none of my business."

"You're right.  It's not," she said with a set expression.

"So, I suppose you'll want to be, . . . that he'll be . .  ."

"He's always been my partner, Agent Doggett.  Nothing has changed.  
But it has been a pleasure working with you and if you decide to stay,
I think you would continue to be an asset to the X Files."

He leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly, letting out a breath that
seemed too measured to be natural.

"I had a partner once.  Back in New York.  Mike Fitzsimmons.  We
worked homicide together."

"An Irishman," Scully said with a smile.

"African American," Doggett corrected with a grin.  "But he might as
well have a map of Ireland stamped on his face, as stubborn as he
was," he reminisced fondly.

"I'm overlooking that ethnic slur, Agent Doggett,"  Scully replied as
she calmly stirred her yogurt.

"We were together five year," Doggett continued, ignoring her comment.

"What happened?" Scully prodded when Doggett seemed to get lost in his
thoughts.

"Died.  Heart attack."

Scully nodded, not quite sure what to say.  "I'm sorry," she said
finally, but it felt terribly inadequate.  She was sorry for many
things, mostly if she'd lead to any assumptions.

"I know we were never really . . . you and me . . ."

She sighed and settled back in her chair.  "Mulder was my first
partner.  I was assigned to the Academy when I started with the FBI,
I'd never been in the field before I met him.  You mentioned stubborn?  
Try irritating, annoying, rude, inconsiderate . . ."  She stopped
herself and smiled at her memories.  "We've been to hell and back and
back to hell again.  Partner means something entirely different to me
now than it did 8 years ago.  Partner means two halves of a whole."  
She looked up abruptly and concerned shadowed her eyes.  "Agent
Doggett, John, if I ever misled you, led you to think . . ."

"No, Agent Scully, no.  You were always perfectly clear on where we
stood.  And I appreciate that, really.  I mean, even in the past few
months . . .  Any misconceptions were on my part."  Then he made the
mistake of glancing down to her bulging stomach.  "That was probably a
bad choice of words," he clarified hastily.

She smiled again.  "No offense taken, Agent Doggett."  She took that
opportunity to glance at her watch.  "I really should be getting back
upstairs.  He'll probably sleep for a few more hours, but I think he
rests better when I'm nearby."  She stood and gathered their cups and
her garbage on the tray, keeping her eyes firmly on her task.  "I want
to thank you."

"It was nothin', Agent Scully.  Just some lunch.  I shoulda thought of
it earlier."

"No, Agent Doggett," she said, allowing her eyes to come up to meet
his.  "Thank you . . . for understanding."

"He's that special?" Doggett said, and blushed immediately at his off
hand comment.

She gave him a room-brightening smile.  "Oh, yes.  He's that special."

Doggett nodded, taking the tray from her hands and holding his gaze on
the contents.  "He's a damn lucky man."  He chanced a look up at her
and then turned to dispose of the tray and its contents.

"Actually, I would call myself a damn lucky woman," Scully said
softly.  As she passed him, she reached up and squeezed his shoulder.  
"Goodbye, Agent Doggett."

He nodded his goodbye and watched as she walked through the cafeteria
exit, back to her life.

Wiping his hands on a left over napkin, he left by the same door, not
bothering to look back.

The end.