Title: First Steps Author: Vickie Moseley Summary: What was lost is found. Category: Scully Angst Rating: G Disclaimer: Even I have to admit that I'm getting more excited about this new season. I was dreading it, but I'm trusting you, Carter. Don't screw this up! You did so well with Requiem, don't let it be a waste. Meanwhile, I'm still not making any money on these. Comments: Read the whole thing before you yell at me :) First Steps By Vickie Moseley vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com He stood in the doorway, frozen in his steps. There before him was a nativity scene tableau. The Madonna, eyes shining, hair like a glowing halo surrounding her gentle face, staring with rapt attention at the tiny life bundled in a white blanket, clutched tight to her chest. Rocking in a steady rhythm, slowly, back and forth. Above her, the Protector, or so the man in the doorway knew he fancied himself to be. A guardian angel, suddenly in the picture, to stand guard, to defend. The man in the doorway closed his eyes with the pain tearing at his heart. At one point, he would have had a part to play in this recreation. But he threw that away in a fit of . . . what? He couldn't even remember anymore. He just knew as surely as he knew anything in his life that he'd tossed what he had to the winds and never looked back. The images tore at him. Times he'd shared with this beautiful woman. The way he could make her smile just with a tilt of his head. The way she looked up to him, respected him. Seen him as a protector. Those were the times that he cherished now, realizing that he'd thought so little of them when they were actually happening. What he wouldn't give for one more chance. One more time to see her look up and catch his eye as he entered a room. One more time to see her smile, knowing it was just for him. But the other man on the scene made that wish all the more impossible to ever see fulfilled. She accused him once of jealousy. Of course he was jealous! Was she insane? This man, this interloper, had snuck into her life like a thief in the night, stealing all that was his. Her playful glances, her laughter. How could he not feel jealous of that? That this man before him had taken up his own place in her universe, and regardless of what that did to her, he appeared to be there to stay. The tiny bundle in her arms wiggled and let out a mewing cry. She smiled indulgently, and gently shucked the robe off her shoulder, offering the insistent little mouth its sustenance at her breast. The man above her smiled and stroked her hair as he watched, unashamed. The man at the doorway averted his eyes in a flush of embarrassment. It had been a mistake to come here. He turned to leave. The sigh caught him as firmly as any rope or lasso. He had gotten no more than a foot from the door, out of sight of the inhabitants of the room, when he heard her sigh. A voice, soft in deference to the suckling infant, broke over the quiet creaking of the rocker. "He's not coming," she said. It wasn't the words, as much as the tone, the emotion behind them. Wistful. Resigned. Sad. Yes, enormously sad. "He'll come around, Sweetheart. You know in his heart that he loves you." The deep voice was soothing and was like a balm on a tender wound. "He just can't accept this. I understand, on some levels, but can't he see what he's doing? Can't he see how this is tearing us all apart?" "He's hurting. He's used to having you all to himself. You can understand that, can't you?" She sighed again, and it sounded like a heart breaking. He wondered if it was hers, or his own. "I do understand. But so much of the anger between us was of his own making. He never wanted me to live my life. It was always about him. What he wanted for me, what he thought was best for me." The deep voice chuckled slightly, breaking the tension. In a moment, she joined in. He stood in the hallway, trembling with rage at the thought that they were laughing at him. He crept closer to the door, intent upon making his presence known, giving voice to his own feelings. But he stopped short at the view. His foe was clutching her free hand to his own, bringing it up slowly to his lips to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. She was smiling still, indulgent. "But at least you knew enough to keep your opinions to yourself," she assured him. "Face it, we're more alike than you'd ever want to think. Certainly more than he would ever admit," came the deep voice, still rich with good humor. "I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?" she responded with a tearful smile. "Well, one of us you didn't pick, and the other you got by default. I think you just have lousy luck," came the mirthful reply. She turned her palm and clutched his hand to her mouth, mimicking the movements he'd just made. "No, I think I'm the luckiest woman alive!" she told him emphatically. The man in the doorway stood there, knowing that it was up to him. This was his decision; he had to make the next move. She'd made the first move when she'd made the invitation. She was leaving it all up to him, a courtesy that he'd never managed to extend to her. Straightening his shoulders, rotating his head as if walking onto a battlefield, he drew in a deep breath. Then, with trembling hand, he knocked firmly on the doorjamb. Her eyes shot up first, and caught his. There was a twinkle, a smile, that he knew was his and his alone. No matter who else might enter her life, he would always be there, unless he carelessly pushed her away. His actions always spoke louder to her than any words he'd ever uttered. He knew that now, and knew that what he was about to do would change everything. But in that change, maybe something could be regained. He plastered on a smile that became more natural with every step across the floor. Extending his hand, he waited breathlessly for the other man to take it, to clasp it. He wasn't disappointed, though the surprise was evident on the other man's face. "Welcome home, Mulder. And welcome to the family," Bill Scully said, grasping the startled man's hand as if it were a lifeline. In a heartbeat, Mulder's hand tightened and a smile lit his face. "Thank you, Bill, thank you. Let me introduce you to your nephew, William Scully Mulder." Through her tears, his little sister smiled up at him, just for him. What was lost was now found and would not be allowed to slip away again. The end. Baby Name Note: I know, I know, there are those who can't stand the thought of naming the kid William. Well, look at the track record, folks. Not a one of us would have dreamed of naming MaMulder 'Teena' now, would we? And it does seem that, with a few exceptions, Carter is stuck on the name William (William Mulder, Capt. William Scully, William Scully, Jr). So I think there is precedent set and I'm just following the lead. Story Note: Did I get ya? Who did you think it was at the doorway? Mulder? Did you think the guy beside her was the new guy? Skinner, maybe? Now, you know me better than that! Vickie