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.