This is a companion story to the story "Yes Sir, That's My Baby." by Michelle Hiley. When Michelle first posted it, back in April 96, Vickie, who had been one of the first people to read it, remarked that there was a lot more to it, and she would like to see the story told again, more fully, filling in the gaps Michelle had had to leave. Michelle liked the idea, and asked if she'd co-author. Vickie agreed and this is the result. We feel it important that you read "Yes Sir, That's My Baby." first, and so we have included the recently corrected version as the prologue to this story. The prologue follows now, below it is the introduction to "Inherently Given" and part one. Inherently Given's Prologue: Yes Sir, That's My Baby. Vickie Moseley vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Here we go.. Mulder, Scully, Skinner and the Nisei man are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter. Everyone else and the story are mine. Mulder/Scully Romance Zone, warning hereby given. Minimal violence, angst etc, no graphic sex or bad language. This story may be freely distributed, as long as it remains intact and unaltered, with the author's name and e-mail address, and provided money doesn't change hands. Feel free to archive it, but the author reserves the right to ask for its removal from any archive and retains the copyright. I'm just covering my butt folks, in case it ends up on the cover of Time (like that's really going to happen.....:)) Spoiler Warning. I haven't seen "Nisei" or "731", but I won't let a little thing like that stop me... OK, the rest is introduction, you can skip it if you like. Hey! I think I beat my own long introduction record! Nearly 50 lines, plus a 12 line footnote! Did anyone actually read this? Hello. I've been reading fanfiction stories for a while now. Happy ones, sad ones, funny ones. But there is one kind of story I really hate. The ones in which Scully has an alien baby and/or eggs taken from her. I don't much mind if Mulder turns out to be Daddy, but otherwise...urgh.... Don't get me wrong please, this is *not* a flame towards the authors of such stories. The ones I've (accidentally) read have often been excellently written, and many people love them. As Sheryl Martin once sorta said, each to their own tastes, and if you don't like it, don't read it. So, when I can, I don't. It's purely a personal horror. I don't think that happened in the show myself, (I go with the idea of humans being mutated, not bred from), and if CC ever did do that, I'd probably quit. But that's what fanfiction is for, speculation. I just try not to read the alien baby stories.:) Anyway, the point of all this, is that while on yet another rant to my long suffering friends about how much I'd hated the whole abduction arc, someone (Sneakers) made a joking remark about something I'd said. And I realised, I was going to have to write a story to exorcise my demons. So, here is my version of What Will Really Happen. Yes, Michelle is writing an unexpected baby due to alien influence story. Those of you who know my feelings, prepare to faint.... The medical information is undoubtedly all preposterous, because I know nothing about it. But that's the nice thing with experimental procedures, if anyone says "That can't happen!" I can say "Ah, but you see it's *experimental* and secret......":D I know the doctors talk in simplistic terms. That's so I can understand them. It's like the aliens in Star Trek that all speak English. This will never happen on the show. But, in this version alone, I'd love it if it did.....:D:D ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Yes Sir, That's My Baby..... By Michelle Hiley e-mail fbi_basement@hiley.demon.co.uk Dedicated to Sneakers, for inspiring it. Blame her. Autumn 1994. Hanson's Disease Research Centre. "So, is the test subject suitable?" The doctor turned to his Japanese colleague, who was studying a chart. "Yes, she seems healthy enough. I think she'll make a fine parent." "So, when do we proceed?" The Nisei man pondered. "We obviously need time to arrange matters. Perhaps in a few weeks, we can get started, once we have what we need." The other man looked down at the red-haired woman on the table. "Are you sure she's genetically compatible? This is a big step. No-one's done an experiment quite like this before." "She's the perfect person to help us with this. Strong and healthy." "Well, she looks anaemic to me. Curse of the redhead. And the tests you did to examine her must have weakened her. Inflating someone's stomach to look around takes it out of them, you know." They stared down at the unconscious Dana Scully. "You're right. We'd better give her an iron injection. Pass me the syringe please." He grasped Dana's upper arm and injected her. Almost at once she went into spasms. The doctor said a rather rude Japanese word, and grabbed the bottle his colleague had filled the solution from. "Are you insane? This isn't iron solution!" "Well, if you will keep labelling the bottles in Japanese... What did we give her then?" "Purity Control!" "Oops." They looked at the writhing woman, watching until she fell into coma. "Get her into a hospital. I doubt she'll survive, but if she does, then we'll arrange matters for sometime in the future." "Yes, sir" ***** October 13th 1996 "So Scully, want a sunflower seed?" "No thanks. How much longer?" Mulder checked his watch. "Twenty minutes and we're out of here. Why? Hungry?" "Yes." "Then let's pick up a pizza and...." He was interrupted by the sound of a rap on his door. Scully raised her eyebrows. A face came down alongside Mulder's window, flashing a badge. "Ah gee, and we weren't even necking, Scully. Guess this guy's either part of the surveillance, or bored." He wound down his window. "Yes, officer?" "Get out of the car please sir." Mulder showed his badge. "FBI, officer. We're on business here." The cop didn't budge but raised his voice a little. "Out of the car please. I have reason to believe you're drunk." He winked at Mulder and mouthed . Mulder obligingly got out of the car, just as the second man hit him from behind. Scully dived for her gun, but came up to find the "cop" using a dazed Mulder as a shield, gun to her partner's temple. "Just step out of the car please Agent Scully, and I won't need to hurt him." Scully weighed her odds, and complied. She couldn't risk Mulder. Meanwhile the second man had signalled to a van which drew up alongside. The next thing they remembered was the sharp smell of the rags that were pressed over their faces. **** "You have both of them? Was that intended?" "I gave orders, sir." The French doctor paused. "I'm continuing our late colleague's work as he intended. This was his special sideline project. The resulting child, although special, will be entirely human. Therefore we needed both a male and a female. These two were separately examined at different times, and considered a good genetic mix. And because they were partners it would be easy to remove them together. They are also in peak condition, an important factor." "Then I suggest you proceed. You have taken an egg from the woman and fertilised it with her partner's sperm?" "We have." "Then implant it. And release them. We won't need them back, we just need to monitor the pregnancy, see whether it proceeds in an normal way or not." He waved his hand. "Just seeing whether a child conceived and born in these circumstances can survive will be enough. They'll no doubt try and have the baby in secret, but they'll know we know. Let them have it, and raise it. It'll be of no interest to us once it's born." He frowned. "If it is born. What if they just abort it?" The doctor smiled. "Agent Scully is a Catholic. And Agent Mulder wants answers. His curiosity will be too much. Besides, it'd be as dangerous to abort as to proceed. And they'll realise it's each other's. You haven't observed them as I have, sir." "They are lovers?" "No. But they are emotionally linked. It would seem a matter merely of time and courage on their part. They'll remember enough of this incident to know what has happened. And I'm wagering their feelings will ensure this baby is carried to term. I'd stake my life on it." His boss smiled. "You just did, Dr Philipe." **** Office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner 2 months later. "Pregnant???" Walter Skinner looked at the agents before him in disbelief. "When? How?" Scully cleared her throat. "As for when, well as close I can reckon it, about the time Agent Mulder and I vanished for two days. As for how...well I believe artificial insemination was used. Agent Mulder and I have memories of a sample being taken from each of us." She blushed. "And neither of us can recall any sexual activity." "Each of you? So this baby hasn't been fathered by an alien, Agent Scully?" Scully was turning redder. "No sir. We took the liberty of conducting a few tests. The baby is clearly mine and Agent Mulder's." "You ran a few tests." Skinner reached up and started pulling out what little was left of his hair. "I bet you had fun explaining yourself." Mulder stirred in his chair. "We just told them Agent Scully was a nymphomaniac, and that I'd been drunk." He smiled at his infuriated partner. Skinner regarded him coldly. "Agent Mulder, I fail to see any humour in this. How am I going to explain this upstairs? I lose two agents for two days, and one of them comes back pregnant by the other. Any ideas?" "They don't know about the birds and the bees? Jesus, I thought I had a sheltered upbringing." Skinner took a deep breath. "What are the medical implications here Scully?" He suddenly looked worried. "Is this baby's birth going to be dangerous?" The agents shifted in their chairs and looked at each other. Finally Mulder spoke up. "They did something to us, and we don't really know what. We've been able to determine that they did something to ensure the baby's supply of food and blood would be the same as a normal pregnancy. The child seems to be growing as expected." "And the birth?" "We..that is Dana, reckons a Caesarean in the eighth month. We'll give it every chance we can. But we're keeping it, unless things turn bad, and we have to abort." Skinner looked at them. "Very well, it's your right. But the circumstances that surround this have to be kept secret. You do appreciate that this child is unique?" They nodded. "Then I'm sending you together to a safe house in New Hampshire. You can await the birth there. I'll see that you're supplied with any medical equipment necessary. But I don't want one of my agents having a green blooded baby in a hospital! The National Enquirer is all I need!" His voice softened. "I'll ensure the best medical help is on hand." Mulder and Scully nodded and rose to leave. "Oh, and Agent Mulder? Agent Scully?" They turned. "Congratulations." "Thank you." **** A safe house One month later. The new Mr and Mrs Mulder lay in bed together, curled around each other. "So, did you enjoy our day?" "I loved it. Did I tell you that I loved you by the way?" "Yes. Did I remember to mention I loved you?" "Yes." They lay together in mutual warmth. "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "You didn't just marry me because I'm carrying your child, did you?" "Of course not! I...I know this was all sudden, and we didn't have time to talk about how we felt until we came here. But I've always loved you, and I've always wanted you. That abduction, this baby..well, it was a blessing in disguise. I love you. And I love our baby." "Thank you." "You didn't just marry me because I got you pregnant did you? You never struck me as the type to do something you didn't want to, just to be respectable." "No, the fact you knocked me up didn't come into it." "What a charming way to put it." They both grinned in the darkness. "Really?" "Really. Just because I'm pregnant was no good reason to marry. I always wanted to marry you. I was always just trying to pluck up the courage to tell you how I felt when this happened." "And now we're lovers, spouses, and prospective parents." "Uh, huh." They snuggled up. "Do I show much yet?" "Not much. You won't see it in the photos, don't worry." "That's good. I know it's vain but I didn't want to look pregnant on my wedding day." "So, do you want to make love?" "Again??" "Sorry. Are you tired? That's OK if so." "No, no. I'm pregnant, not ill. I was just teasing you." "C'mere then....." **** "We'll be doing the Ceasarean now." Mulder and Scully looked at one another. Skinner had been as good as his word. The safe house had been equipped with a medical room, and a team of trusted doctors were on hand. Three of them, four if you counted Scully, although they knew she wouldn't be in much of a state to offer advice. "It'll be OK love. I'll be here holding your hand. It won't take long. And we'll have a beautiful baby afterwards, thanks to you." **** "Congratulations. You have a lovely little girl." The two agents just stared at the perfect miracle that was their daughter. Eventually Dana was coherent enough to speak. "Is she OK? I mean....she looks fine to me, but I'm not a paediatrician...." "She's normal and healthy. Here. You two get to know her while I stitch up after her." He passed the baby up towards them and carried on. None of them noticed one of the junior doctors slip out of the room. **** "Well?" "Baby Mulder born at 6.03 pm. Perfectly normal child. No reason to think she won't thrive." "Then the experiment is over. Make your excuses and leave." **** "Mulder?" "Yes?" Mulder was busy playing with his little daughter. "You know Scully, she looks like you. What'll we call her?" Scully smiled. "We'll figure something out. Look, while you were talking to the doctor, Skinner called." Mulder's face darkened. "What did he want? You look worried." "It's just that..well, he thinks it would be easier all around if we just told everyone that we conceived this child in a normal way, and that we filled out the paperwork saying that I am its mother and you its father." "He just wants to deny it all, huh?" "Mulder, he has a point. Imagine how she'll feel being pointed out as a freak. We'd get no peace." He thought it over. "You're right. It would be hell. But when she's older...especially if we have children the normal way and you give birth to her little brother or sister some day....can we tell her then?" Dana smiled. "OK. Now get some rest." She crossed to the bed and kissed her weary husband. "Mulder, you've had a long pregnancy, and a difficult birth. You'll be just fine, but you need to sleep. I'll bring you some food first, and we can bottle feed our baby at the same time." "I guess I can't claim to be eating for two anymore huh? Can I at least have some decent junk food now, instead of all that healthy stuff?" She smiled. "After the gift you just gave me, you can have whatever you want." She drew him and their child into the first of many embraces. The end. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Footnote (read the story first please!). OK...you should have known the weird way I look at things. Running and hiding now....:D:D Comments welcome at fbi_basement@hiley.demon.co.uk A quick end credit should go to Vickie Moseley, because a scene she wrote suggested the ending of the scene where they tell Skinner. She alas, broke her story up and used bits elsewhere, so I used her "Congratulations" "Thank You" line with her permission. As she put it, the circumstances were rather different in her story.:) Final remark (then I'll shut up). The first two readers of this asked me if it had been inspired by the film "Junior". No. I never saw that movie, and I'd forgotten it existed. The story came about due to conversations with Ra Enright and Sneakers (especially the latter). But I might rent "Junior" out now.... ----------------------------------------------------------------------- And now, onto "Inherently Given" itself..... Fox Mulder and his parents and sibling, Dana Scully and her parents and siblings, Cancer Man, Pendrell, Henderson, Kathy, Ellen, Trent, Danny, Dana's Professor, Phoebe, Colton, Well Manicured Man, the Lone Gunmen, Kevin Kryder and Skinner belong to 10.13 productions, and are used without permission. Think that's all of them. Not a bad cast list.:) Mulder's unnamed uncle and cousin just *might* be Mike and Erin Mulder , or not. If they are, they are copyright Ra Enright and are used with her permission. Everyone else, and the story, are copyright M.Hiley/V.Moseley. The songs mentioned are "Wait" by Sarah McLachlan, and "Lose My Faith In You" by Sting and are used without permission. In both cases we have quoted the "official" lyrics from the album covers. This story contains spoilers for the third season, but not for the fourth. It does contain some consenting sex scenes between Mulder and Scully, but they are not explicitly described. A Mulder/Scully romance warning most definitely applies, read on at own risk. The authors of this story consider themselves reasonably knowledgeable about the subject of pregnancy, given that they have six children between them. Actually that's a bit misleading. One of them has six children, the other has never even been pregnant (though she did cyber-adopt). One's American, the other's British. One's well known for her thoughtful angst pieces, the other's a comedy writer who thinks angst is a unit of radiation. Both however enjoyed the chance to write "against type" and shared duties on both the serious and the comedy scenes; Vickie loved wallowing in comedy, while Michelle got a rare chance to do some soul searching. Hell, even if you lot don't like it, we've had a *lot* of fun writing it...Michelle *still* hasn't seen "Junior" by the way, and so remains completely unaffected by it, but Vickie's seen it.:D We would like to thank our test readers, Alasdair McLean, Juliettt, Scarlet, Char Hall and Ra Enright (Sarah Johnson) for their help, and on occasions suggestions, (it was Alasdair's question about forms that led to the rewriting of one part for example). Ra especially has been a source of immense encouragement, always ready with a suggestion or a punctuation correction, hence we included a small tribute to her in the final scene. Ta Ra.:) Additional note: for the story we have supposed that, as well as the home she keeps near Dana, Mrs Scully has a country home, (probably the old family home she shared with Bill), a few hours drive north of Washington. Warning: The medical information in this story is undoubtedly wrong and certainly far fetched, but then it's a work of fiction. Do not try this at home.:) Remember children, Mulder is indestructible, you are not!:) This story is being posted in 22 parts. Don't panic, many of them are quite small. Dedicated to Brian, Paul, Ra, Burny, Nate, Greg, Maggie, Patrick and Stevie. Inherently Given. by Vickie Moseley and Michelle Hiley. vmoseley@fgi.net, fbi-basement@hiley.demon.co.uk Part One. Second Month Blues. Basement office of Fox Mulder. FBI Headquarters, Washington DC. December 4th 1996. 10:35 am. Dana Scully checked her watch and then looked at the clock on the wall for verification. It was impossible, but it was happening. Her partner was late for work. It wasn't that Fox Mulder had never been late for work. It had happened before, usually the day after a wrap up of a particularly horrific case. He would sleep in, and she would cover. No problem. But this was the sixth day in a row that it had happened, and she was becoming more and more concerned. she thought while booting up her computer. She was about to call him when the door behind her opened and he stumbled in. He looked dreadful. His hair was standing on end, his clothes looked thrown on, she noted. His face was an interesting color of green. He mumbled an apology and slumped down in his chair, avoiding her eyes. Still, he could *feel* her eyes on him. "I'm fine, Scully," he blurted out before she could say a word. "Well, if this is fine, I don't ever want to see you looking bad, Mulder," she shot back. Then, realizing that she wasn't helping him at all, she got up and walked over to his desk. "Do you feel as bad as you look?" she asked. "Do the world a favor, Scully. Don't ever decide to change careers and go into diplomacy," he quipped, and put on his glasses to read the file on his desk. She grabbed his chin and turned his face toward hers. His eyes were clear, if a bit miserable. He didn't look like he had a fever. Still, she reached up and put her hand flat against his forehead to be sure. He sighed with disdain, but made no move to stop her. Finally, she took her hand away, shaking her head in confusion. "Satisfied?" he asked sarcastically. "No," she answered honestly. "You look like you have the flu, Mulder, but you don't have a fever. What are your symptoms?" "I don't have any symptoms," he lied. When she glared down at him with her patented Scully Look, he finally caved in. "OK, I have a *few* symptoms. I just seem to have an upset stomach." She allowed her eyebrows to raise, a sure sign that she knew there was more to come. He relented. "And I'm more tired than usual," he commented casually. She still wasn't getting off his desk. "OK, OK, and I get queasy sometimes at the thought of certain foods. Are you satisfied, Doktor?!" She looked him over carefully and he suddenly got the impression that this is how a piece of round steak might feel, if it could feel anything. The next thing he knew, he was grabbing the wastebasket from under his desk and emptying his stomach contents into it. "That does it," she said with a note of finality. "We are going to the doctor's." Mulder merely nodded. Though he hated the idea of visiting the doctor's, he simply didn't feel up to arguing with her. "OK. If you insist." Scully opened her mouth to tell him exactly why he had to go, and stopped abruptly. "OK?" He gave her a miserable look. "Truth is, I don't think I can carry on like this. If there's something you can give me to make me feel better, then do it. I don't think you could make me feel worse." Scully looked at him. Now she was really worried. Reaching for their coats, she helped Mulder to his feet, making a mental note to get someone to clean up the wastebasket. Before he could change his mind she urged Mulder out of the building. She wanted a second opinion right now. Part Two. Excuse Me, That's MY Bloodwork. The parking garage. December 4th 1996. 10:50 am. They were halfway to the parking garage when Mulder grabbed Scully's arm. "Wait a minute, Scully," he said, coming to a stop. "What, Mulder? And don't give me that line about how you don't like going to the doctor. I've heard it before and I'm not letting you get by with it. . ." "No, Scully, think about it. We were abducted two months ago, right?" He waited for her reluctant nod. She was still not completely sure of what had happened when they had vanished two months previously. She had snatches of memories, most of them extremely vague, of things that occurred during their two day absence. In many ways, she hoped she was merely experiencing dreams, and had done her level best to convince Mulder of the same. "Yes, so we disappeared for two days. But we were fine when we came back. Are you thinking that something is just turning up now? And if so, why is it only affecting you and not me?" she asked, her arms crossed in front of her. "I don't know, but I don't want to risk going to a doctor on this. Can't you just run some tests here in the building? Use the lab, it's well equipped to do bloodwork, isn't it?" She gave him her sternest glare. "You *really* don't want to go to the doctor's, do you?" she accused. "What about wanting to feel better? Chickening out now, huh?" He gave her back his best "puppy dog" look. "Come on, Scully. Hey, I'll even pass up the lollipop. Whadda ya say?" He broke into a grin when she shrugged her shoulders in defeat and led him up to the lab. Agent Pendrell was more than happy to help out, especially if it meant spending time with Agent Dana Scully. All the while she drew the blood, the red headed lab tech was shooting her looks and Mulder was having a hard time containing his amusement. He found the "courtly affections" of the young man to be harmless and couldn't help but notice that his partner was completely without a clue. That made the whole scene even funnier, in Mulder's opinion. But his amusement was short lived when another round of nausea struck, just as another lab technician popped a bag of butter flavored popcorn into the lab microwave. Mulder beat a hasty path to the restroom and when he returned, Scully made him lie down on a gurney they had borrowed from pathology. Mulder made a snide comment about not knowing where it had been or *who* might have been on it, but that didn't stop him from taking the opportunity to grab a quick nap. "Agent Scully, ah, I just got the results from that last blood sample," Agent Pendrell said. Scully couldn't help but notice the decided blush that was coloring the younger agent's cheeks. "OK, let me see them," she said, reaching out to him. He snatched the computer printout just out of her hand. "Uh, I really think, well, there seems to be some mistake, Agent Scully," he stammered. "This vial was labeled 'Mulder', and I don't think that's right." "What do you mean? I drew the blood myself," Scully said, reaching further and grabbing the sheets of paper out of the other agent's hands. "Agent Scully, that blood contains high levels of. . .well, maybe you should. . .Oh, gee, Agent Scully, that blood is yours and you know it," he sighed in exasperation. "I mean, I won't tell, I promise. It's your business. But gosh, it's not a good idea to mislabel blood, you know. It can cause real problems. . ." Dana read the printout, then read it again. "Pendrell, this blood contains high levels of . . ." she said, her voice taking on the tone of a trance. "That's a . . ." Pendrell was studying a particularly interesting piece of ceiling tile. " . . .pregnancy hormone. Yeah, I know. I used to work summers in a small hospital lab." Finally, he met her eyes. "I meant what I said, Agent Scully. If you're, ah, in a family way. . .well, they won't hear it from me, I swear it!" He looked totally crestfallen as he walked back to sit at his desk. ***** "So you haven't told me why you're taking more blood," Mulder said, as his partner stuck him with another needle. "Ow! Hey careful, that arm's attached, ya know!" "Sorry Mulder," she muttered and hurried off back to the other side of the lab. Mulder watched her and shrugged his shoulders. She would get around to telling him what the problem was eventually. Until then, another nap seemed in order. About half an hour later, Scully was shaking him awake. "I *refuse* to let you have any more blood, Scully. Make do with what you have," he growled when he saw his partner. "No more blood, Mulder, I promise. We need to do another test and I need you to put this on," she said, holding out what looked like a hospital gown. He stared at it. "You want to tell me what's going on, yet, Scully?" he said evenly, but it was apparent that his good temper was sorely being taxed. "We need to do an ultrasound and I can't do that through your suit, OK?" she replied testily. "Want to tell me *why* we are doing an ultrasound?" Mulder shot back, not taking the gown. She pulled on his arm and draped the gown over it. "Trust me on this, Mulder. I'll tell you everything, just as soon as I know what the hell is going on." He glared at her a moment, and then reluctantly pulled the gown off his arm and headed for the restroom. He took a bit longer than usual, since he waited until the restroom was empty and then wouldn't leave its confines until he was positive no one was in the hallway between it and the lab. Finally he came back. "OK, now what?" he asked. "Lay back down on the gurney," she directed. He did as he was told. "Now, this isn't nearly as good as the picture we could get in a doctor's office. I mean this equipment is usually used in bomb disposal, but it's the best I could come up with," she chatted merrily. He couldn't help but notice that she seemed unusually cheerful, like she was hiding something, something *really* big. He eyed the machine suspiciously. "Bomb disposal? Are you sure this is safe?" he asked. She looked at him curiously. "Of course it's safe, Mulder! Do you think I'd do anything to harm you?" She was obviously offended. "Well, you did shoot me once," he reminded her. "And you are *never* going to let me forget that, are you?" she countered. "Mulder, this is as safe as walking through a metal detector. I just need to see something internal. It's not nearly as sophisticated as the one at the hospital, which is used for looking through soft tissue. But it will suit my purposes. Now, if you'll let me get on with this it will all be over in a minute. Just try not to wiggle, it will blur the picture on the computer screen," she directed. When she put the hand held scanner on his stomach he let out a yelp. It was cold! But he quieted down immediately when he saw the picture on the computer monitor. "Scully," he said slowly, "what is that little blob like thing?" "Ohmigod," his partner replied, growing very pale. Mulder continued to stare at the screen. "You know, Scully, the only part of biology I had trouble with was embryology. I actually had to read that part of the book *twice*. And that thing looks an awful lot like. . ." "Ohmigod," she repeated and grabbed for a chair. "Ohmigod. . ." "But that would be impossible, right?" he said, more to himself than anyone else, since his partner was in shock and not responding to any outside stimulus. "I mean, a man can't get. . ." Scully finally found the words she had been searching for. "Mulder, you're pregnant!" The usually stoic Fox Mulder passed out cold. ***** Mulder was a little shaky getting dressed and didn't even bother with his tie. Scully decided that it might be a good idea to take the rest of the afternoon off and drove him to her apartment. Agent Pendrell, who had been at lunch during the ultrasound, and as a result was ignorant of their findings, agreed to send Scully the results of the remaining tests over her modem. "What do you want to do?" she asked, once they arrived at her door. "A bowl of ice cream sounds good. I'm starved," he replied as he flopped down in a corner of her couch.. "That's not what I meant, Mulder. I mean, *this*," she said, patting his stomach. "What do you want to do about this?" "Scully, tell me the truth. Is this really possible?" he asked anxiously. "Well, I admit it's definitely in the realm of . . .No, Mulder, it's not possible. But it's happening. Can you remember anything of our abduction?" she asked. "Not a whole lot," he admitted. "I remember a mask over my face, like in the hospital. When I woke up, we were in that field. I was a little sore and I showed you that cut I got on my stomach. That's about it." He scratched his head. "I don't know. How is it even possible?" "I don't know. Maybe it was surgically implanted. It appears to be growing in a sac that's being fed by the blood vessels of your intestines. It's very, very complex. I'm still trying to figure out how they managed to get your body to produce the proper hormones. Synthetic hormone therapy usually takes longer than a couple of days. When we came back from Norway, it took close to a week for you to respond to it. . ." She stood up and absently got him a bowl of ice cream from the kitchen and watched as he dug in. "Mulder, I'm going to ask you again. What do you want to do about this?" "I'm not sure what you mean, Scully," he said between spoonfuls of ice cream. "You don't have to go through this," she said quietly. "But if it's surgically implanted and if they made sure that I'm producing the hormones, what would happen if I decided I *didn't* want to go through with it?" he asked. By the look on her face, he saw that it was indeed a very good question. "Do you mean, could it be dangerous?" she asked. He nodded. "I don't really know, but I'm afraid it could be very dangerous. Even so, carrying it to term might be just as dangerous. It's just too close to call which might be worse." He sat there, at her table, considering his options. This was unbelievable. But it was happening. He had been experimented on, and he raged inwardly at that. But if it were possible. . .the result would be mindboggling. Then, he remembered the ultrasound. That tiny little being, floating in a little sac. . . "What if it's alien?" he asked, suddenly fearful. Relief flooded him as she shook her head. "No, Mulder, there is no indication of that. It's human. Just like you or me. It's just growing in the wrong place, so to speak. Or if not the wrong place, at least a highly unlikely place. . ." she let her voice trail off. "So I was implanted with an embryo that was, what, a "test tube" baby?" he asked. "Yeah, basically, that's what happened." "So there's a woman out there who doesn't know she's about to be a. . .a 'father'?" he asked. Scully was silent for a moment. Then, abruptly, she burst out laughing. "Now what is it, Scully?" he demanded. She tried to regain her composure and not let him see what she was thinking. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I can't help it. This is all so. . ." "Impossible?" he asked. She nodded, glad he was leaving it at that. "But it sounds exactly like something that would happen to me, Scully," he said with a sigh of resignation to his fate. "Look, you still look beat. Go and lie down on my bed for a while and I'll wait for Pendrell's fax. Maybe we'll know more when we see the rest of the lab results." "OK, in a minute," he said, going out into the kitchen with his bowl. He filled it with more ice cream and then started to rummage through the refrigerator. "Mulder, what are you looking for?" she asked, as he proceeded to take out all of her condiments and line them up on the countertop. "I don't know, Scully, but suddenly pickles sound real good right now," he said with a lop sided grin. Fortunately the cushion she threw just missed his head. Part Three. Facing The Music. Scully's bedroom. December 4th 1996. 3pm. There was a gentle tapping at the door. "Come in." Scully entered, a sheaf of papers in her hands. "Hey. How are you feeling?" Mulder grimaced and sat up a little. "Pretty bad. Still sick." "How about..how about emotionally?" She sat on the edge of his bed, not looking at him. "Shocked. I mean Jesus, Dana, I'm still having trouble believing this." That brought a smile. "You? I thought you wanted to believe." "I wasn't expecting this, though." Despite it all he grinned. He hadn't got any more used to this yet but... Then he noticed something. Dana wasn't looking at him. She sat, head down, nervously playing with the sheet. "Dana?" She looked up at him, and smiled again, but he could see the worry in her eyes. And something else....anticipation. She had something to tell him, and she wasn't sure how he'd like it. "What's up, Doc?" "Mulder..." she groaned. "What *is* up?" he asked more seriously this time. "Is there something wrong with the baby? Or is it me?" "No." She hastened to reassure him. "You both seem to be doing fine." "Seem to?" "Mulder, this is a rather unique case, you'll have to agree. Seem to is the best I can do, OK?" "OK. So then what is it?" She stopped looking at him again. This wasn't good. Finally, just as he was about to tilt her face up, she spoke. "Mulder, you remember I said this baby was human?" "Yes. Isn't it?" "Yes! Quite human. But, as you said, that had to have meant human parents. Two of them." He said nothing, and after a minute she continued. "I did some genetic tests. I...I had my suspicions. I figured they had to have taken an egg from a woman, fertilised it, probably with your sperm, and implanted it into you." "And what did you find, Dr Scully?" His voice was gentle. She looked at him then. "I used some common sense. They probably used your sperm, it would explain the sample you remember taken during our abduction. The tests proved it, the baby is genetically yours. And my other suspicions were confirmed as well. They...they took a sample from me too, Mulder. Just enough." She dropped her eyes, and Mulder saw tears begin to form. He put his hand to her cheek, raising her face to his again. "Are you saying I'm carrying *your* child, Scully?" She nodded. "This is a bad thing?" "I..." the tears began to fall faster. "No..I'm happy about it in a way, but..." "But....?" "Oh Mulder, I'm so sorry. I know this will ruin our friendship." She was sobbing and Mulder let her continue. "I always hoped one day..but to have it forced like this, and on you..." Mulder awkwardly pulled himself up and took her into his arms. God, she felt good. She felt right. He stroked her hair as she cried against his chest. Dana's baby. He was carrying a little Scully, a small part of her. Suddenly Mulder felt like he wanted to cry the news from the rooftops. The most wonderful woman in the world, and he was having her child. Eventually the sobbing subsided, and Scully, a little embarrassed, blew her nose on the tissue Mulder proffered and pulled away. "I'm sorry." "That's OK. Dana...is the idea of this baby really so repellent to you? Do you really feel unready for parenthood? Or is it that you just didn't want to have children with me?" Scully looked at him. He looked gorgeous, with his hair flopping over his face. But he looked worried. And she knew she didn't ever want to be with anyone but him. "Mulder...I'm happy about it. I wanted it to be mine. When I was running the tests, I was praying for it. But when it was...I was just afraid of how you'd feel. I thought you might blame me for getting you pregnant, might resent me, might not want a child with me." Mulder wrapped his arms around her again, lying back in an embrace. "Dana, there's nobody I'd rather have children with than you." She looked up at him, tentatively raising her head as his lips met hers lovingly. Part Four. Mom, We Have Something To Tell You. Scully's bedroom. December 4th 1996. 3:10 pm. The kiss lasted a nice long time. When it was over, they both looked at each other and Dana started laughing. "What's so funny?" Mulder asked, a little concerned. Could she be laughing at his kiss?! "I was just thinking that I always assumed we'd have sex *before* we conceived, Mulder," she laughed again. "I mean, talk about putting the cart before the horse!" He chuckled. "Yeah, this sure puts a whole new twist on the phrase 'safe sex'," he nodded. "But I want you to know that I'm a nineties kind of guy, Scully. I don't mind if you're more experienced than I am," he added with a wicked smile. She gave him her best 'Look' and gently punched him in the arm. "Hey, watch it! I'm in a delicate condition, here," he said with a grin. "Mulder, the last time you were delicate you were still in your mother's. . .Oh No!" She stopped short and sat up on the bed. "Oh No Mulder!" "You've said that twice now, Scully," Mulder said pointedly. "What's the problem?" She turned so that she could look directly at him, and the horror on her face froze his heart. She was frightening him now. "Scully, Dana, you are really scaring the hell out of me. What is wrong?" he asked anxiously. "Mothers, Mulder! What are we going to tell our mothers?!? I mean, it would be hard enough to tell them that *I* was pregnant, but *this*? What are we going to say? How is *your* mom going to take this? I mean, Mulder, she's been through so much. And if she thought you had been abducted, Mulder, think about it. This could be too much for her." She was looking very concerned and for the briefest second, he was reminded of exactly what a gentle person she was and how much he truly did love her. "Well, maybe we shouldn't tell my mom. I mean, not right away. I almost never go up there, she has never come down here. We communicate over the phone and we do that pretty infrequently. I don't think she would notice as long as I remember to call her on Sam's birthday, and send a card on Mother's Day. Hey, by the way, do *I* get a 'Mother's Day present' this year?" "Not this year, maybe next," she teased. "But you are changing the subject. That might work with your mom, but we see my mother all the time. If you just up and disappeared for eight months, she would be very worried. Besides, I couldn't lie to her, Mulder. She would know it the moment I opened my mouth." Dana chewed on her lip. "So, Oxford psychologist, got any brilliant ideas?" Mulder laid on the bed and considered the options. Finally, he pushed himself up on his elbows and shrugged. "Well, I refuse to lie to your mother. I have never lied to her and I won't start now. So that leaves us only one option: we tell her the truth. But first," he paused, "we have to tell Skinner...." ***** Margaret Scully's country home. December 10th 1996. 12:10 pm. Margaret hurried to the door, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She peeked out the curtained window and broke into a brilliant smile. Opening the door she immediately reached out to hug her daughter and her partner. "Hello, hello," she greeted them merrily. "What time did you leave the city? You had to have driven pretty fast if you left after you called," she said pointedly. "Actually, Mom, I called from my cell phone. We were on our way up to New Hampshire, and thought it would be nice to stop by," Dana said, as she took Mulder's coat and hung it with hers on the coat tree. "Mulder, take Clyde out to the backyard. He can terrorize the squirrels while we talk." Mulder nodded and led the little Pomeranian out through the kitchen. Dana caught her mother's knowing look. "I know, I know. It's the last thing I need, but darn it, Mom, I just got so attached to Queequeg. Mulder helped pick this one out. He's housebroken and everything," she added, as if that would make or break the arrangement. Maggie regarded her daughter with an upraised eyebrow for a moment, then softened. "Well, I'm glad you did. You need something to baby, Dana. You've always been such a Mother Hen. Now I have soup on and I made some chicken salad sandwiches. . ." Maggie's voice trailed off when she saw the concerned look on Dana's face and noticed that Fox, who was coming back through the hallway, was turning slightly green. "Maybe just the soup," he muttered. Dana steered him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. She asked him something and he waved her off with a weak smile. None of this was lost on Maggie. "Dana," Maggie said, her voice betraying her concern. "Is Fox all right?" Dana looked up at her mother. "Yeah, Mom. It's just that certain foods have been, well, not sitting well with Mulder these days," she explained. Maggie didn't look at all convinced. She stood looking down at the two agents and the beginnings of concern were flowering into full blown anxiety. "You *would* tell me if anything were truly wrong, wouldn't you?" she accused. "We better tell her now, Dana. Waiting won't make it any easier," Mulder said softly. "Mrs. Scully, I think you should sit down." Maggie obeyed, her fists clenched in her lap. Mulder looked at Dana and he nodded his approval and encouragement. She began. "Mom, I'm going to tell you something that I think you will find rather unbelievable. You know that Mulder and I are very close." Maggie smiled. OK, this wasn't so bad. "Yes, dear, I've known that for a very long time," she said, giving Mulder a knowing look. "Well, Mom, as you know, sometimes when two people care about each other. . .oh, this isn't working," she wailed and looked at her partner in dismay. "Mrs. Scully, what Dana is trying to tell you is that we are, uh, we're having, we're going to have a baby," Mulder blurted. Suddenly Maggie's face took on a totally different appearance. It was not displeasure, it was simply the look of a mother who had just found out that her daughter was using birth control. Or maybe *hadn't* used birth control. . . "Oh!" Maggie struggled to ensure she didn't look shocked. This was a different generation she reminded herself. Even so, she was hoping this announcement would have wedding bells attached. "Mom, it's not what you think," Dana started. Maggie looked very confused. "Then you aren't pregnant?" she asked, looking at her daughter. Mulder started fidgeting in his seat. "No, Mom, *I'm* not pregnant," Dana said kindly. "But we are expecting." She stopped and let that statement sink in. "I don't understand. . ." Maggie said, struggling with the statement her daughter had just made. "Gee, I think that's what I said," Mulder muttered to no one in particular. Dana was clenching and unclenching her fists and it was obvious that she didn't know exactly how to proceed. Mulder took over. "Mrs Scully. What I am going to tell you is going to seem fantastic. No, that's not even true. It's unbelievable. But it's true, every word." Then, very gently, using every trick he had learned in the Bureau and all the psych classes he had ever taken, he told her about the abduction, what they remembered of the experiments, and finally, of the consequences of those experiments. When he was finished, Maggie was pale and visibly shaken, but otherwise, appeared calm. "And you are all right?" she asked, looking at Mulder and then to her daughter for confirmation of his nod. "And the baby. . ." "Seems to be fine, Mom. We are going to be monitoring this very closely, of course. The baby is ours, Mom. Mine and Mulder's. It was done in-vitro, we guess. I ran all the tests myself. And they seem to have taken care of every contingency, I mean, as far as we can tell, there won't be any problems. Of course, we'll be taking the baby by Caesarean. . ." "Well, I had all four of you that way," Maggie commented, and then took a deep breath when she realized what they were talking about. "Want to give me some hints as to what I'm in for?" Mulder asked, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was enough to break the tension and Maggie laughed. "Of course, Fox. What kind of grandmother would I be if I didn't hand out free advice?" she said lightly. "Then you are keeping the baby?" she asked, and was doubly relieved to see both heads nod in unison. She smiled at Mulder, and the affection in her eyes was all that he could have hoped to find. "But I don't think you are going to be having this baby at Georgetown Uni Hospital, am I right?" "No Mom, that's the bad part. We have to go away for a while. I mean, it would just be too hard to explain, and there are still some people who might want to. . .well, make this headline news, you know. But we'll try to call often and let you know how we're doing. And I'm sure we can sneak you up for some visits," Dana smiled. They had a pleasant lunch, talking about babies and raising them. Finally, Dana and Fox had to leave. Maggie walked them to the door and gave them both a hug. "Well, take care of her," she said to Fox. "And you," she said to Dana pointedly, "take care of Fox and my grandchild." Mulder walked Clyde on out to the car and left Dana a moment with her mother. "Are you sure you're OK with this, Mom?" she asked, searching her mother's face for any sign of indecision. Maggie bit back a comment on wedding plans. She had a feeling that would come in time. "I'm fine with it, sweetheart. Just promise me one thing," she asked, waiting for her daughter to nod. "When you have any more children, make sure they come into the world in the *normal* way," she said, and Dana gave her a hug. Mrs Scully started to laugh. "Mom? What's so funny?" Margaret struggled for composure. "Oh Dana, I'm sorry. It's just..." "What?" "Well, I always knew there was a possibility that one day one of my kids would come and tell me they'd got someone into trouble. I just figured it would be Bill Junior or Charles...." Part Five: Oh What a Tangled Web. The road to New Hampshire. December 11th 1996. Noon. The drive to New Hampshire was pleasant, the winter sun warming the car, even though the air outside was crisp. They had spent the night in a motel in Connecticut, and soon they'd be pulling off the interstate. Scully smiled as she looked over at her partner, who had fallen asleep about five minutes into the ride. she noted, and not for the first time. One thing was for certain, she hoped the baby inherited his eyes. Her partner's eyes were the most endearing feature he owned. Slowly, those eyes fluttered open and focused on her. "Trying to turn me into a pumpkin?" he asked lazily, as he stretched his arms and yawned. "You're doing a fairly good imitation without my help. You've been asleep for hours," she said with a laugh. "Feeling better?" "Yeah. Who would have thought that your mom's chicken salad would affect me like that yesterday? Scully, I've thrown up more in the last week and a half, than in my entire adult life," he said woefully. "I'm afraid to watch TV, the commercials send me straight to the bathroom." She nodded in sympathy. "At least you managed that toast the motel gave us for breakfast. When we get settled into the safe house, Skinner has arranged for you to be seen by an OB." She held her hand up to stave off his protests. "Mulder, listen to me. I'm a pathologist, not an obstetrician. I delivered one, count 'em, ONE, baby during my residency." She held up her index finger to illustrate her point. "I am not in any way qualified to do this." "But Scully," he protested, "I don't *trust* anybody else!" "I know that. I know that. And I will be working with this doctor, Dr. Marc Robert. He's a researcher now, but he had a thriving practice until a couple of years ago. He's an older gentleman, he's experienced. I talked to him on the phone yesterday afternoon and I think you'll get along. He's an avid Douglas Adams fan," she offered, hoping it would lighten his mood. "Great. Our baby's going to be delivered by an 'Arthur Dent' wannabe," he groused. "Mulder," she said seriously. "You should know by now that I would *never* do anything that would endanger you. And that goes the same for this baby. Believe me, we will need Dr. Robert's help here. I'm very concerned about your health. I want to make sure all of this turns out all right." she thought. He glanced sideways at her plaintively, and was relieved to see her smile in response. His mood lifted. The sunshine was doing a lot to relieve the nausea that had greeted him when he woke up that morning. "Where are we?" "Not too far now. We need to turn off the interstate soon." Mulder yawned lazily again, and looked over at his partner. "I *could* drive for a while you know. If you get tired," he said, hoping that it didn't sound as if he was questioning her driving skills. One particularly harrowing ride to the airport, after a equally harrowing case in Comity, played before his eidetic memory in glorious technicolor. he assured himself. He happened to like this little red car his partner had purchased. He sure didn't want to see it wrapped around a tree, after his partner had lost control on a tricky curve trying to sock him in the arm. "Nah, Mulder. I don't think it's a good idea to allow someone to drive who has the tendency to toss his cookies at a moment's notice. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Only a few more miles and we'll stop for a bite to eat." She glanced over and noticed his tanned face growing a touch pale at the mention of food. she moaned inwardly. "Hey, Mulder, why don't you finish up some of that paperwork Skinner handed you on the way out the door?" she suggested, more to get his mind off his stomach than for any other reason. "Sure, Scully. You just want me to do all the work," he shot back at her with a grin. He knew that she was trying to keep his mind off 'other things' and it warmed his heart that she was that concerned for him. He twisted in his seat and managed to snag the handle of his briefcase, then pulled it into the front seat. After a moment, he was rummaging through a stack of paper. A burst of laughter caught Scully by surprise. She looked over, wondering if the stress might have caused him to 'flake out on her' at long last. Mulder was reading a form, but just barely. He was laughing so hard, his hands were shaking and he kept having to wipe tears from his eyes to see the paper. "OK, Mulder, what gives? Are you all right?" she asked, the concern deep in her voice. She knew he got like this, usually when the stress of a case became too much or when he'd had no sleep in an extended period of time. "Well, one of the forms Skinner expects us to fill out is a 'Request for Maternity Leave'. Now, I guess I could do the honors, but that's gonna tip our hand a bit, if you know what I mean. I don't know why he thought to include it. This must be getting to him, too, I guess." He finally got control of his breathing and sighed. Dana chewed on her lip. "We need to fill that out, Mulder," she said evenly. "You're joking, right?" he asked, not ready to believe she was serious. "No, I'm not, Mulder. Think about it. We're leaving town. In about ten months we are going to come back to DC - with a child in our arms. Now, it won't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened. But if we intend to allow our child a normal life, we had better 'dot all the i's, and cross all the t's', and that means filling out that form. Besides, without proper documentation, I won't be able to claim the baby on my insurance," she concluded. "Insurance?" he cried. "Shit, I never even thought about that." She smiled at him patiently. "I know, Mulder. You *never* think about it. It's a darn good thing that I do. You never did fill out a single form when I brought you back from Alaska. And do you think that little stay at Bethesda Naval Hospital after our trip to Norway was at the beneficence of our beloved 'Uncle Sam'? The paperwork was enough to wipe out half of the rainforests in the Pacific Northwest. So we'll fill that form out as if it was *me* that was taking the leave, which I am, I guess," she smiled, and winked at him. "So what kind of leave am *I* taking?" he asked, getting confused already. Dana thought for a while. "What other forms are in there?" "A couple of generic medical leave forms," he returned. "OK, we'll use those. Let's fill mine out first, though," she said as she pulled off the interstate and on to a smaller, two-lane highway. They would travel that to the small county road that would take them directly to the safe house. "Just ask me the questions, I'll tell you what to write." He shrugged and fished a pencil out of his briefcase, then pulled his glasses out and settled into the seat. "All righty then, first question: Name?" She glared at him. "Dana 'Starbuck' Scully," he said slowly, and she almost hit him in the arm when she caught the twinkle in his eyes. "Sorry, Scully. I always liked your nickname," he chuckled. "Next question: Division - I can answer that one," he smiled, and wrote with a flourish. "Supervisor, got that one. Address, that's a easy one. Geez Scully, I don't need you to help at all on this form. I could fill this one out in my sleep." He continued rattling off the inane questions, and not even waiting for her reply, until he stopped and gulped. Dana had all but tuned him out by this time, glancing at the map to make sure she didn't miss any turns in the road. Mulder looked over and gulped again. "Scully, ah, when was your last, er, when was the last time you, ah, oh shit," he sighed. No getting around it. he decided. They were closer than any two people could be but this was one thing that he *really* didn't want to know about her. Absently, Dana noticed his discomfort. "What, Mulder?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the road. He closed his own eyes and took a deep breath. "When was your last menstrual cycle?" he asked in a whisper. The car slammed to a stop. Complete silence reigned for a few incredibly long moments. Finally Mulder dared to open his eyes. Scully was sitting watching him, almost doubled up with laughter. "What?" he asked, aggrieved. "Do you have any idea how embarrassed you look?" "Well I..." Mulder found himself blushing. Scully made an effort and got her face straight again. "About a month ago actually. I'm due in about three days. I must remember to get some...." she trailed away at the look of anguish on her partner's face. "Mulder, it's a perfectly normal process." "I know, it's just..." Mulder didn't dare to look at his partner. "I think I better fill that one out," Scully said, taking pity on him. "Great idea." Mulder was quick to agree. "Mine should be fairly safe to fill out," he assured her, and pulled one of the other forms out of the pile on his lap as she started the car up again. He was quiet again. Too quiet, in her opinion. "Mulder, what is it now?" He started giggling and she couldn't help but wonder if it didn't sound just a little hysterical. "It asks me for the 'nature of my complaint'," he explained. "And I want to put down 'I was abducted by Men In Black and I'm getting damned tired of it!' but it won't fit in the space provided," he said with a wicked grin. "Maybe I better fill those out too," she said grinning. "Works for me," he replied tossing the forms into the backseat. They fell into a companionable silence that lasted the rest of the ride. Part Six. But What's It Going To Do To My Figure? The safe house. December 11th 1996. 2.30 pm. The safe house turned out to be a pretty two story house, with four bedrooms and a large backyard. A rose garden, in winter hibernation, lay just behind the yard, and amongst the roses two stone benches stood next to a birdbath fountain. Skinner had clearly chosen well, for a high fence surrounding the property served to keep out prying eyes. In Scully's mind it was idyllic. "Mulder, isn't it wonderful?" she sighed as she looked out onto the garden from the kitchen window above the sink. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, absently. "I'll take one of the front bedrooms, you can have the room with a view," he said, and he walked into the hallway with his duffle slung over his shoulder. "Talk to me, Mulder," Scully whispered under her breath. She knew he was working through a lot of things right now, and that most of it he would have to do on his own. But she couldn't help but hope he would come to her, if he needed someone to listen. Fox Mulder walked into his room and tossed his duffle bag on the bed. He sat down next to it, giving the bed a 'test bounce.' Comfortable. Not that he slept well at the best of times. With a sigh he started unpacking, putting the clothes in the empty dresser that stood opposite the bed. Most of his clothes were sweats and other loose clothes, Scully had advised him to leave most of his dress suits at home. He had reluctantly agreed when she reminded him the slight 'spare tire' that was beginning to form around his middle was only going to increase as the baby grew. He pulled out his bathrobe and glanced around the room, looking for a hook to hang it on. He opened the closet door and discovered not a hook, but a full length mirror hanging from the back of the closet door. "This is not happening," he told his reflection. "Men do not have babies. It is an abomination in the strictest sense of the word. It's too cheesy for even an 'Ed Wood' creation! It's a bad dream, probably from a high fever. I'm gonna wake up in a couple of hours, with Scully holding my hand and a nurse named Attila trying to jab a needle the size of a number two pencil into my ass." He was disappointed when his reflection refused to agree with him. Reaching past the mirror to the back of the closet, he found the needed hook and draped his bathrobe on it. Then he dropped himself down on the bed, and with his hands behind his head stared at the ceiling. He was still there, an hour later, when Scully knocked lightly on the door. "Mulder, you awake?" she asked. She entered at his grunted reply. "Hey, we skipped lunch you know. Do you want something to eat?" He didn't bother to look at her. "Yuck," he answered. Scully sighed and sat down next to him on the bed. "Mulder, I know you feel pretty icky right now, but you really need to eat. Or at least have some juice. I don't want you to get dehydrated. And you sure don't want to have an IV," she warned gently. He said nothing, but pulled the pillow out from under his head and covered his face with it. "Mulder, are you having second thoughts?" she asked softly. Slowly, he uncovered his face and looked at her. "Not second thoughts, Scully. Maybe *first* thoughts." She nodded. "I'm here to listen," she said. He regarded her for a moment. "I feel awful. Is that normal?" he asked. She could hear the barely concealed fear in that question. "Well, we don't have a lot of past experience to draw from, Mulder. But from what I've picked up on the street, yeah, that's normal," She reached over and rubbed his stomach. "It's pretty sore, huh?" "It was pretty sore a week ago, Scully. 'Ripped apart' is a more appropriate description. And look," He raised his left foot off the bed for her inspection. "Check out those ankles. Are they supposed to be that swollen?" "You were sitting in the car too long. You need to keep your feet elevated, like you would if you had a sprain or a broken bone. Keeps the swelling down." He rolled over on his side and propped his head on his hand. "Do you want kids, Scully? I mean, our present circumstances notwithstanding, do you ever dream of having kids?" Scully smiled. "I guess everyone thinks about it, Mulder. And I always had baby dolls, you know, when I was little. I kept them right next to my BB gun," she added with a wicked grin. "Well Scully, I've never thought about it. It was the furthest thing from my mind. Even with Phoebe, I never considered what we were doing to be procreation. It was sex." He picked absently at the bedspread. "Just sex. Plain and simple, no strings, no consequences." He was silent again for a moment. "I mean, if she had come to me and said she was pregnant, I would have married her on the spot. But I never *thought* about it." "Mulder, you were a college student," she said, with a hint of amused exasperation. "None of us thought of the consequences in college. It's hormonal or something," she joked. "What are you thinking now?" "Well, aside from being scared shitless at the whole process, I'm scared at the results." He rolled over onto his back, and stared at the ceiling again. "I'm not exactly 'father' material, Scully. I'm moody, I have terrible habits and I'm frequently self-centered. I have trouble keeping fish alive!" he cried, and looked over at her with a faint smile. "Feel free to defend me at any point here, Scully." The fact that he was joking relieved her greatly. She smiled back at him. "I'm waiting for you to get to the part I disagree with," she countered. His smile broadened. "But seriously Mulder, if we had minimum standards for parenthood, the human race would have become extinct eons ago. I remember Ahab used to tell the boys, Fatherhood is a job. You aren't born into it, you *grow* into it. And I have complete confidence that you will grow into this. If you really want to. Do you still want to?" He lay on the bed, still staring at the ceiling. She patted his leg. "Think about it. But if you want my honest opinion, what you are feeling is the most natural thing in the world. And it only proves to me that you will make a wonderful father. I can't think of anyone else I would rather have to be the father, or even the 'mother' of my child." Then she got up and left him to his thoughts. Mulder thought about what Scully had said. "Well, she got the '*grow* into the job' part right," he muttered to himself. "From all indications, I'm gonna be 'Dumbo' in about six months!" Downstairs, Scully had started a fire in the hearth and put a pot of chicken rice soup on the stove. The sun was setting over the trees in the front of the house, and from the clouds building up in the west it looked like it was going to snow. She snuggled under a comforter, and flipped through the medical journal she had packed, but her thoughts were with her partner. She knew he was hurting. He was plagued with doubts on so many levels. Even she was beginning to have second thoughts. He needed to be firm in his commitment to this 'endeavor'. The next seven months were going to be hard on him, both emotionally and physically, and she didn't want him to go into it half-hearted. "You know, whatever that is, it actually smells kind of good," he said behind her. "Chicken rice soup. Great for upset stomachs. Want me to spoon you out a bowl?" she asked, starting to get up. "Nah, I'll get it. You don't need to wait on me hand and foot, you know. I'm not bedridden," he added. he thought. He went into the kitchen, and returned with two steaming mugs. She threw the comforter aside and made room for him on the couch, flashing him a thank you smile as she accepted the soup. They ate in companionable silence. "So, do I call Dr. Robert tomorrow?" she asked, searching his face for any indication of emotional upheaval. He sipped his soup for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I guess you better. If I'm going to do this, I'm doing it right." She reached over and squeezed his hand. He covered it with his other hand and squeezed back. Part Seven. Enter The Gunmen. The Lone Gunmen's office. December 19th 1996. 11:21 am. "So.....Mulder, what are you up to?" The bearded man held up some photographs to the light. They showed Mulder sitting in the garden of a house in New Hampshire. Subsequent shots had Scully joining him. The blond man peered over his shoulder. "Not bad. You did pretty good Byers, finding them that fast. Huh Frohike?" Frohike grunted, his mind sifting through a pile of documents on the table. "What have you got?" Langly wandered over. "I tapped the phone, arranged for copies of receipts, watched what they did, where they went. With Byers' photographs, and your digging into that business two months ago, I thought we'd have figured out why they'd gone by now. Didn't you come up with anything on their abduction?" Langly sighed. "Squat. Mulder told us what he could recall." "What he said he could recall," interjected Byers. Frohike looked offended. "What, we can't trust Mulder now?" "We can't trust anyone. Hey, Mulder ran off to New Hampshire without telling us. I trust him as much as I trust anyone, but there's something going down." "I wouldn't mind as much if he hadn't taken that pretty partner of his away with him," grumbled Frohike. "You reckon they're doing it?" Langly ignored the question. "Byers, pass me that photo again. I'm going to enlarge it." He and Byers began working on the photos, not noticing that Frohike had gone back to his receipts and notes, until abruptly the small man spoke. "Guys...this is weird." Langly and Byers joined him. "What did you get?" "This doesn't make sense." He pushed a receipt at them. "They get most of their goods delivered or collected for them. This is what they bought from the drugstore recently." The others looked at it. "What's Natalins?" asked Langly. Frohike looked at him meaningfully. "They're prenatal vitamins." "So Scully is pregnant?" Byers chortled. "Ten to one it's Mulder's! But why hide?" Langly was grinning too. "Maybe they're scared of her Mom coming after Mulder with a gun." "I haven't finished." Frohike cleared his throat. "Look what else she ordered." They looked. "Sanitary napkins? Tampons?" Langly frowned. "Why?" Byers shrugged. "It's possible to still need them occasionally during pregnancy. She might just be making sure she has some." "And the rest? The condoms?" They looked at each other. "Nothing like shutting the barn door after the horse has bolted I guess." Frohike sniffed. "There's something *very* odd going on here. And Mulder clearly doesn't want us to know what. Which means," he grinned, "that we want to find out......" Part Eight. Ghosts In The Corners. A safe house in New Hampshire. Christmas Eve 1996. 8:00 pm. "Careful Mom." "I'm fine dear." Margaret Scully fixed the piece of holly firmly to the wall, and carefully stepped down from the chair she had stood on. Dana, her arms full of paper chains, regarded the freshly decorated room. "It looks great! Let's just string these across the hallway, and we're almost done." She passed half her bundle to her mother. "Bring the chair Mom, we'll need it." A plaintive voice spoke up from the couch. "Can't I help?" "No!" The two women rounded on him in unison. "Mulder, don't you dare even think about it!" Mulder pouted. Margaret ruffled his hair. "Fox dear, you know you mustn't exert yourself. Not...not.." "In my condition?" Fox sighed. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to just lie here and watch you two doing all the work? Having all the fun?" Both women gaped, and suddenly to his surprise both were hugging him. Very gently. "Hey, if I'd known I'd get this reaction, I would have complained before." He smiled. Dana gently squeezed his shoulder. "You just looked so...so forlorn when you said that." "I didn't really mean to. I just wanted to have done something to help." Margaret let go of him, and fished around for the decorations box. "Then you can. The tree isn't finished yet. Go and sit by it, and finish it. Dana and I will do the hall." Mulder happily seated himself by the tree as the Scully women walked into the hall of the safe house. Once they were out of earshot, Margaret turned to her daughter. "How is he doing?" "He seems fine. The baby's growing, he's gaining a little weight. The sickness is still there, but that's normal. He's still only a little over two months gone." thought Dana. "I meant emotionally. How is he?" "Oh. He seems OK. He had a hard time dealing with it at first..I mean the shock..." "I can quite understand that," her mother replied dryly, passing up the chains as Dana climbed onto the chair and began fixing them. "I guess it was a shock to us all. But he seems to be coping. He's nervous, he isn't sure what to expect. Trouble is, neither am I." "And how are you coping?" "Me?" "You. You're going to become a mother for the first time, Dana. Your partner is having your child next summer. How are you feeling?" Dana got slowly off the chair and looked at her mother. Abruptly, to Margaret's surprise, she burst into tears. "I'm scared, Mom." "Scared?" Margaret rocked her daughter back and forth, hoping Fox didn't hear. Obviously the same thought occurred to Dana, because she lowered her voice, and wiped her eyes, choking back the tears. "I'm sorry Mom. All I ever seem to do these days is lose control." She managed a wan smile. "It's supposed to be Mulder who's moody." "It's OK, Dana. You're under a lot of stress. Now, why are you scared? Is it the thought of being a parent? Or are you worried about Fox?" Dana lowered her voice so much, Margaret had to strain to hear her. "I'm frightened, Mom. What if something goes wrong? What if,.." she started to cry again, "what if I lose him, Mom?" Margaret stroked Dana's hair. "Sweetheart, you're a doctor. You know how many babies are born each year. It's not like it used to be, not with modern medicine. I had four children, and I was just fine." "It's not the same. Mom, if it was me, I wouldn't be worried, but, but.." "But with Fox, you can't predict what will happen? Because he's a man?" Dana nodded. Margaret sighed. "Dana, whoever did this to Fox made sure that baby was well provided for. I can't believe they mean for it, or Fox, to be harmed by this. You said the pregnancy was progressing just fine. Is there any reason to think Fox can't have this baby by Caesarean when the time comes?" At her daughter's mute shake of the head she continued. "Well then, you'll just have to trust things will work out. Trust me, that's a healthy man in there. He's going to give you a beautiful baby, and me a fine grandchild. Now dry your eyes, and let's finish this." Dana, happier, obeyed. But before she could pick up the chains again, Margaret felt her daughter's arms go around her. "Mom, thank you for coming here, to spend Christmas with us." Margaret turned and embraced Dana. "Where else would I go? I wanted to be with you. Both your brothers are doing other things." This time it was Margaret's turn to feel the tears beginning to threaten. "And now Missy and your father are gone, I wanted to be with you." Dana was silent a moment. "I miss them Mom. I'm glad you're here." Margaret smiled. "There's something about Christmas Eve. I feel it a little at New Year too, but especially Christmas Eve. The past has a way of intruding on your thoughts. My mother used to refer to the ghosts in the corners." "Ghosts?" "She didn't mean it literally," Margaret explained. "She meant that on Christmas Eve...well there's something about it. It's a time for looking back, as well as forward. Call it an atmosphere. I always feel that Dickens understood, when he wrote 'A Christmas Carol'. I always feel the dead are closer then, than any other time." She squeezed Dana's hand. "The unborn too. Next year at this time, one of those 'ghosts' will be lying in your arms, wanting its bottle. Then you'll remember this Christmas as the last peaceful one you had." Both women began to laugh, but were cut off short by a crash from the living room. "Mulder! The tree!" The sight that met their eyes however was not the horrifying one they feared. Mulder, clearly unharmed, was leaning against the wall shaking with laughter. The tree was on the floor, and emerging from it, also unhurt but with his dignity clearly shaken, was an indignant Pomeranian. "He tried to steal one of the baubles," Mulder eventually managed to explain. "It didn't come loose, so he pulled it." "Oh, you poor little thing!" Margaret scooped the dog up into her arms, petting him. Scully turned to her partner. "That could have landed on you!" "But it didn't, it fell the other way." Seeing her open her mouth he held up his hand. "Scully, I'm fine. You can't wrap me in cotton wool you know. If it had fallen this way.." "You'd have been hurt!" "I would have had time to get out of the way." He looked straight into her eyes. "Don't worry about me so much, Dana. I can look after myself, and our child." Scully looked at him, and thought it over for longer than he had expected. Reluctantly she nodded. "All right. But you are not helping to pick the tree up." He raised his hands in surrender. "OK. Pick it up. I want to finish decorating it." ***** Margaret turned in early, saying she wanted a good night's sleep. "It's always a luxury, getting to bed early on Christmas Eve. So many years of having to wait until children were asleep." Mulder smiled. "And some more to come. Go to bed early this year, while you can." She put her arms around him. "Thank you both, for this baby. It's a marvellous Christmas present for me." She briefly hugged her daughter. "I've put your presents under the tree, wrapped in dog proof wrapping." She gave the unrepentant looking dog a stern look. "Yours too, although you don't deserve them, frightening us like that!" Dana smiled. "We did the same with your presents. Good night Mom. Merry Christmas." Left alone together, Mulder got up and stirred the fire into life. Scully opened her mouth to stop him, then closed it again. She sat on the couch, staring into the fire, not noticing when Mulder returned to his seat beside her on the couch, and picked up his book again. The mantle clock chimed eleven. Still Christmas Eve. What was it her mother had said? Christmas Eve was a time for looking backwards, feeling the past pressing on you. She wondered if Mulder felt his past tonight. If so, he was coping with it well. There had probably been a lot of haunted Christmas Eves for him. Or was he looking forward? To that unborn child he was carrying? The future..... And suddenly Dana realised something. She was happy. In this past year she had been shot at, abducted again for the purpose of helping them perform a dangerous experiment on her partner, and was facing Christmas in hiding, while her father and sister were dead. And all she could think about was that she was with Mulder, and she loved him. She loved him. Unconditionally and totally. And there was a child on the way that was their child, no matter how it had been conceived, or would be born. At that moment Dana knew what she wanted from life. All she had to do was ask for it, and hope against hope that the answer was yes. "Mulder?" He looked up from his book. She was staring at him. "Yes?" "Mulder...will you marry me?" He just looked at her. "Yes." "Yes?" "Yes. I will marry you, Dana Scully." He reached out and pulled her into his arms, and for a while they held each other, kissing and gently stroking. "When do you want the wedding?" "As soon as possible. Before you change your mind." "Agreed. You might think better of your offer." She hit him with a cushion. Laughing he reached for one to pound her back, but stopped short at the look of consternation on her face. "Dana?" "Oh Mulder! I forgot you were pregnant! Are you OK?" Abruptly she found herself pinned down on the couch by her wrists. Her new fiance's face was thrust close to her own. "Firstly," said Mulder in a mock growl, "I am pregnant. I am not an invalid. I will not be treated like one, woman, or I will use my new found status as your fiance to chastise you!" Dana grinned. "Is that a promise?" "Secondly," Mulder continued, ignoring the innuendo, "you may from time to time call me Fox, instead of just Mulder. Otherwise when we're married, it'll get confusing." "What makes you think I'm taking your name?" "You want me to be Mr Scully? That has a ring to it." Dana smiled. "I rather like Mrs Mulder. I'll keep Scully for work." "As you wish, milady." He let her go. "I've been wanting to ask you to marry me." "Oh! I'm sorry...did I upset you?" "No!" he pulled her close. "I'm honoured you asked. I liked it. But we have to get you a ring after Christmas." "Let's get the wedding rings at the same time. If you want a ring?" "Of course. I am pregnant. A ring on my finger will stop people gossiping." "It'll take more than a ring, Mulder...I mean Fox." "You think?" He sighed theatrically. "People are so judgemental these days. Still, think how happy our mothers will be that you did the decent thing, and made an honest man out of me." This time Dana threw the cushion. "How are we going to tell them?" "We just tell them. Like I said, my Mom's away with friends this year. I'll ring her in the morning. We can tell your Mom at breakfast." He looked worried. "Think she'll approve?" "She'll be ecstatic." Abruptly, unexpectedly, Mulder started laughing. "What?" "Dana..do you realise something?" He looked more sober, and took her hand, looking into her face. "Here we are, engaged and with a baby on the way. And we've never even told each other 'I love you.' Never even made love." He blushed. She looked at him thoughtfully. "I love you, Fox." "I love you, Dana." "Then would you share my bed tonight?" She reached and brushed a stray bit of dark hair from his forehead. "Only if you want to. It's a big double bed though, and it's cold alone." "What about your Mom?" "Her bedroom's at the far side of the house." Suddenly Dana realised her mother had deliberately picked the furthest room from Dana's own. "If we're quiet, she won't hear us." He kissed her. "Then the answer is yes again." She got up, and extinguished the fire. Reaching down, she carefully drew Mulder up off the couch. "Then let's go." "Promise you won't be rough, considering my condition?" She slipped her arms around him. "I promise." As they went through the hall, Mulder reached for his coat and withdrew something from an inner pocket. "What's that?" To her amazement he blushed. "I added these to our last order from the drugstore. I was hoping....if I asked you..." He revealed a packet of condoms. Scully gaped, then began to laugh, as silently as she could for fear of waking her mother. "You're quite right Mulder. Safe sex is a good idea." "We could always say it was twins." Laughing and clinging to each other, they climbed the stairs for their first night together as Christmas began. Part Nine. Friends In High Places. Heaven. (Earthly time and date: 25th December 1996. 12:30 am EST.) Bill Scully was chewing on his lip, regarding the scene below. He was not a happy man. Christmas Night, and he had just decided to peep in on his family, only to discover, to his shock, that his daughter was in bed with Fox Mulder. They were asleep, but their mutual lack of clothing was clear indication that sleep had not been their first priority this evening. And now Bill didn't quite know what to think. He had no problem with the young man his daughter was teamed up with as a work partner. Not that he could have done anything about that anyway. But now, things were changing, and he didn't know if Maggie was reading all the signs. His Starbuck was headed for trouble, he was sure, and he couldn't just stand by and watch any longer. He had to do something. He found the man rather quickly, considering all the souls in heaven. His 'target' was standing also looking down on the life and lives he had left behind, lost in contemplation. Bill was a little shocked to see that this man also was frowning. , Ahab fumed. Glancing down he was reassured to see that at least Dana was decently covered by the sheets. Then he noticed the man wasn't watching the young couple at all, merely staring off into space, clearly as ill at ease as Bill himself. He decided that he needed to talk to this fellow soon, or else he might be forced to take action. "William Mulder?" Ahab asked, approaching the man with his hand outstretched. "I'm Captain Bill Scully. Dana's father." The other man, Mulder, looked at Ahab's hand for a moment, then shook it. "Captain Scully. I've been intending to look you up. I suppose you've seen what's been happening?" William asked as his gaze wandered down to the Earth below. "Yes, I have been watching just now. Can't say I'm very pleased with the current turn of events. Nothing against your son, but. . ." "No, I'm concerned, too. This is not right. It's not normal. I can't believe that Fox is going through with this," William said, almost in a trance as he watched the scene below. "Well, I wouldn't say it wasn't 'normal'," Ahab objected, confused. "I mean, they have been through a lot. . ." "But this baby thing," William said, shaking his head. "I can't believe that old bastard would do that to him. I thought he was protecting him all these years. Now this, this just. . ." He looked like his heart was breaking. "Baby thing?" Ahab asked, suddenly very interested. "But they just made love." He stopped, embarrassed. It was like reading her diary when she was little, to make sure she wasn't getting too wild. He had had to stop when Maggie found out. She had been furious with him, although she had never told Dana. He had felt the need to protect Dana, still did. But she had been so happy in the young man's arms just moments before. Maybe Maggie was right this time too, and he should let his daughter lead her own life. But a baby? How could there already be a baby in the picture? Ahab was sure this was the first time with Fox. At least he thought so. Then a possible suggestion occurred to him, and he felt his temper rise. "Look, if you're insinuating that my daughter is pregnant by another man. . .," he huffed. William looked at him, startled. "You don't know?" "Know what? That they've fallen in love? Yes, I know. Maggie is ecstatic. I probably wouldn't have noticed, but her feelings were so strong. I depend on her reading of events, you know. We have four, or rather three, children down there, and I can't always keep track of them all at once." Ahab looked down on the bedroom scene below, watching with some discontent as his baby girl lay naked, sleeping in the arms of her new love. he thought sadly. He quickly brushed the thought aside. "Oh, then you don't know," William said with understanding, interrupting Ahab's train of thought. "It's not your daughter that's pregnant. It's my son." The words just about didn't make it out of William's mouth, with all the emotion he had infused in them. Ahab looked at him like he was crazy. "What in the world are you babbling about?" he demanded. "That is totally insane! Look, I know we've been gone a while, but not that long!" "You don't know the whole story, Scully," William said, shaking his head. "I worked with some people in the government. Not the flag wavers, mind you. The deep, dark, you don't want to know government that keeps us a world power. And I served them well, or so I thought. But they thought I was a danger. So they stole my little girl and never gave her back to me." He shuddered as he stood there, the pain was so real. "Ohmigod," Ahab muttered. "Mulder, I had no idea. . ." "It's all right. Your daughter knows. And your wife, I think. Anyway, I thought my death would appease them. But Fox has spent his life searching for his sister. That's why they, your daughter and my son, end up on some of those damnable missions they're always getting hurt on. And now your family has been dragged in, through your daughter's partnership with my son." He looked sorrowfully at the other man. "Scully, I'm sorry. They didn't just take my daughter, they killed yours. Melissa is her name, isn't it?" "Yes." Bill thought of his other daughter. He'd call in on her after this. They needed to talk. At least she was here with him. This man's daughter was neither safe, nor with her father. "So, what are they doing to my other daughter?" Bill suddenly felt very afraid. "What I'm going to tell you will seem fantastic, Scully, but you have to listen, all right? My associates have some very interesting, ah, 'lab partners' we'll call them. And they kidnapped our children. They removed an egg from your daughter, inseminated it with my son's sperm, and implanted it. In my son. It's an experiment to see if a fertilized egg can grow somewhere besides a woman's body. Grow to term." William took a deep breath and sighed. "So you see, it's my son who is pregnant. By your daughter. They chose them because they were partners, and there was a bond that meant they'd keep the baby. And because a certain one of my associates has a perverse sense of humour. It amused him to think of the humiliation my son would feel. The terror your daughter would go through, worrying about her partner. They didn't care if it destroyed how Dana and Fox felt about each other. It's merely chance that they are so in love that they've faced it together. That bastard didn't give a damn. And he still doesn't care if this kills Fox. His associates are curious about the child's welfare, but only for their damn experiment. They don't intend to pursue this beyond the birth. They'll just observe, and to hell with the consequences Fox will have to face, trying to raise a child as a single parent." He snorted. "At least they intend to let them keep it, and raise it in peace. But only because they'll have got the information they wanted." Ahab was silent for several minutes. He searched out Maggie's mind, lying asleep in the little house with his daughter and Mulder's son. >>Maggie, what's happened? Is it true?<< <> >>But the baby?<< <> >>But Maggie! This is more than a 'little unusual', I would say.<< <> >>Of course not! But Maggie. . .<< <> >>I never made a very good 'observer', Maggie.<< <> Ahab shook his head and turned to William. "They seem to be happy about it," he said in a low voice. "I know. I can't believe it. But I don't know what to do," William said miserably. "This 'friend' of yours. He's not likely to cause more trouble, is he?" Ahab asked sternly. William drew in a deep breath. "Not over the baby, no. I overheard the doctor that did this talking to that smug English suit. The Englishman and the doctor will curb my associate on this. But if I know him, the trouble has only started. Fox will find his investigations hampered, his movements tracked. He'll be there, waiting, like a goddam spider at the centre of his intrigue web. But at least his hands are a little tied, due to a certain tape which protects Fox and Dana." He grinned. Ahab stared. William Mulder's grin made him look years younger. thought Bill, feeling a sudden urge of sympathy for his companion. "Tape?" "I'll explain about it later." William Mulder started to laugh. "I'll invite a few of the Navajo round, they love hearing about how the white authorities got bested by their people. There's one old chief, cut down by a raiding party in 1830, calls by every week to ask to hear the tale again. He knows it by heart, but he just loves to hear it." He looked at Bill, suddenly a little shy. "That is, if you'll drop by later? Perhaps bring your other daughter, Melissa?" Ahab put his arm around William's shoulders. "I'd be glad to, Mulder. If we need to keep watch on my daughter, your son, and our grandchild, then we'd better get to know each other. It looks like we have our work cut out for us." William met his gaze and returned it. The alliance had been formed. Fox and Dana now had protectors, in *very* high places. Part Ten. Sweetheart, I Don't Think That's Reindeer On The Rooftop. A safe house in New Hampshire. Christmas Eve/Christmas Day 1996. Midnight. It was so sweet, their first time together as lovers. A time for exploring and discovery, and tender whispers in the moonlit room. Passion flared and was fed by their love, and finally, in exhausted bliss, they slept, their first night of many in each other's arms. It was the perfect Christmas present to each other. But other forces were about to intrude. ***** Outside the safe house perimeter. Christmas Day. 3:45 am. Byers peered out through the night vision goggles at the small, cosy little house. In the distance, creeping near the garbage cans, a little man hurried to grab a white plastic bag out of one of the cans, and in a crouch ran back towards the wooden fence. "He's got something," Byers whispered to his left, the words appearing as frozen clouds in the early morning air. Langly nodded, adjusting the directional microphone towards the house. "How's it going? Hear anything yet?" "The dog is walking around. I'm picking up snoring in the room to the north and some sheets rustling in the room to the south. Don't think they're sleeping in separate rooms, do you?" Langly asked his companion, perplexed. At that moment, Frohike hiked himself over the fence and landed rather gracefully next to the two men. "Eureka! Check this out," he exclaimed excitedly as he dug through the white kitchen garbage bag. "Look, empty sunflower seed bags. That proves Mulder's there," he said, satisfied. Byers was rummaging in the contents as well. "And empty raisinette bags. Scully's with him. Besides, she would never leave that darn pooch. She's there, all right." He continued to poke through the bag. "But no evidence of, ah, a physical relationship, fellows. Are you sure you saw 'condoms' on that list?" he asked Frohike. "Of course I'm sure," the little man said indignantly. "It's not a word I would confuse with any other. And it was in Mulder's handwriting," he added forcefully. "Ah, sweet Dana, if you'd only waited a little longer," he muttered towards the house. His companions exchanged exasperated looks and shook their heads. "Now is not the time for jealousy, old friend," Byers said kindly, patting his co-conspirator on the shoulder. "If they're in hiding, they're in danger. And we're here to help, however we can." He went down to the bag again. "An empty prescription bottle. Those 'Natalins' things. And lots of empty antacid wrappers. Scully must have morning sickness pretty bad. Poor thing," he added woefully. "You know, I've been thinking. I know why they got the condoms," Langly announced to the other two. They looked at him expectantly. "If a woman has a yeast infection, she can pass it to her sexual partner during intercourse. He, in turn, can pass it back to her. It becomes a vicious cycle. And women are more likely to get yeast infections during pregnancy. And a good way to break the cycle is abstinence, or prophylactics." "Mulder! That sex fiend! Can't even let her off the hook long enough to get better," Frohike spat out. Langly just gave him a disgusted glare. "Where did you find this?" Byers asked, truly amazed. "'Redbook', August 1995," Langly answered. Byers shook his head and smiled. ***** Inside the safe house. Christmas Day. 4:15 am. The rapid scratching at her bedroom door woke Maggie. She stretched and crawled out of bed, slipping into her robe and house slippers. The house was quiet and she smiled down at Clyde. "C'mon, mutt. I'll let you out. You better not have messed up any of those packages under the tree, or we'll be having 'Pomeranian a la Maggie' for supper," she chided good naturedly. She walked him to the back door of the house and let him out. It was then that she noticed the rather beat up Volkswagen Vanagon parked about a quarter of a mile away. Curiosity overtook her and she scanned the privacy fence, the full moon's light and the thin covering of snow helping her. There, directly across the large backyard rose garden, she could just make out three figures crouched behind the fence. Fear clutched at her and she called Clyde back in, running to the other bedrooms. She knocked on Fox's door, only to have it swing open and reveal an empty bed. Frowning, she thought for a moment, then a smile formed on her lips, despite the fear she still felt. She hurried across the hall to Dana's room and knocked. In a moment, Dana was standing at the door in her robe, trying to hide the interior of the room. "Hi, Mom. Is it Christmas already?" Dana asked, a bit nervously. "Sweetheart, I have to wake up Fox, there's someone outside the fence," Maggie said, pushing her daughter aside and coming into the room. She made her way over to the bed and shook Mulder's shoulder. "Fox, we've got company." Then, hurrying past her startled daughter, she added "Dana, get some clothes on," and left the room. Mulder rolled over and grabbed his jeans from the floor. "Well, so much for breaking it to your mom gently," he sighed and went to his room, returning with his service weapon. Dana had pulled on her sweats and was standing with her own gun. "Just where do you think you're going?" she hissed at him when she saw his gun and the determined look in his eyes. "You're gonna need back up, sweetheart," he smiled, and waved her in front. He knew she would never let him lead, but even she couldn't deny she would need someone watching her back. She smiled back at him. "Just so long as you remember who's in charge," she warned, and laughed softly at his mock salute. As they slowly made their way into the kitchen, Mulder looked out of the window and saw the van. Recognition was immediate. "Dana," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I know who's here." She turned and then peeked out of the window as well. She let out a disgusted huff. "What the hell....?" "The boys are here, Mommy. Can I go out and play?" Mulder asked in his best seven year old voice. He looked at Dana, who only shook her head and went to put up her gun. Mulder grabbed his jacket and started out the door, ignoring Maggie's protests. "Mom, it's all right. We know them. They're harmless, relatively speaking," Dana assured Maggie. "But I'm guessing they've been out there a while. I'd better put on some coffee, and throw some bagels in the microwave to thaw." Mulder strolled leisurely across the frozen garden to come up next to the fence. "Good Morning, boys. Cold enough for ya?" he asked cheerfully. The three men stood up and smiled sheepishly. "Hi Mulder," they said in unison. "Well, don't just stand there. Come around the front and I'll let you in," he chided, and returned to the house. In a minute he was opening the front door, and ushering the Lone Gunmen into the hall. "Here, give me your coats. Dana and Maggie are in the kitchen. Oh, and I should warn you, you'd better be on your best behavior. Dana's trigger finger is itchy this morning," he added with a grin. The three men entered the kitchen, looking contrite. "Merry Christmas, Agent Scully," Frohike muttered as he accepted a cup of coffee. Dana smiled indulgently at him. "Well, I might as well make the introductions. Byers, Langly, Frohike, this is Margaret Scully, Dana's Mom. Mom, er, Mrs. Scully, these are the Lone Gunmen," Mulder said, sitting heavily in one of the chairs. He was sounding a little winded to Dana and she hovered close, handing him a cup of peppermint tea. He smiled weakly and accepted it. "The Lone Rangers?" Maggie asked, not certain she understood what was being said. "Lone *Gunmen*, ma'am," Byers corrected. "As in the Lone Gunman on the grassy knoll, you know at the Kennedy assassination?" Maggie regarded them skeptically from behind her coffee cup. "Oh. Of course. How silly of me," she said without much conviction. "Well, I'd better get dressed." She didn't let her eyes leave the trio as she left the room. Scully sat down next to Mulder who was turning a light green shade. "Too much excitement, wasn't it?" she asked softly, and brushed the hair off his forehead with affection. He nodded. "Want a bagel?" He shook his head vigorously. "Some dry toast?" she suggested. He shrugged and she got up to make it. This exchange was too much for Frohike. "Mulder, you slimeball!" he cried in disgust. "Agent Scully, you just stay put. You need your rest, in your condition. I'll make the creep his toast!" and he jumped up to start throwing bread into the toaster on the counter. The two agents watched him for a moment, then noticed the staring eyes of the other two men in the room. Even though he really didn't feel that well, Mulder could not stop the bubble of laughter that escaped his throat. That sent Scully over the edge as well, and soon they were both all but rolling on the floor with laughter. "I don't see the humor in this situation!" Frohike exploded. "You knock the poor woman up, make her go into hiding...." Mulder held up his hand, and tried to get under control. "Wait a minute, Frohike. You need to revise that statement. *I* didn't 'knock' anybody up. I'm the one who got 'knocked'! And it's Scully's fault. So just get off your high horse, and I'll accept your apology." "Me!?!" Scully cried, with giggles threatening to engulf her again. "I was unconscious the whole time. I'm just as innocent as you are!" she accused, and when she noticed the startled looks of the others at the table she collapsed into uncontrollable laughter once again. "What do you think?" Langly asked, never taking his eyes off the two hysterical agents. "Nerve gas?" Byers suggested. "Hypnosis can produce this kind of hysteria," Langly countered. "Then what was the suggestive word?" Byers argued. "Possibly 'knock'?" Langly suggested. "Wait a minute! You two just settle down and start explaining," Frohike demanded of the agents. Just then, Maggie walked in. Calmly, she went over and poured herself a second cup of coffee. "It's very simple, gentlemen,......Gunmen,....... whatever. Fox is pregnant and the baby is Dana's. I'll be a grandmother again next summer." She smiled and leaned back against the counter, sipping her coffee. It took quite a bit of explaining, but finally, Byers, Langly and even Frohike accepted the fact that indeed, their long time friend and subscriber, Fox Mulder, was pregnant. And his partner, the ever lovely and enigmatic Agent Dana Scully, was the father,....ah,....mother,...... ...whatever. "Are you sure he's going to be all right?" Langly asked, circling Mulder like he might examine the core of a nuclear reactor. "He's fine," Dana assured him. "We are monitoring this very closely. Skinner has an OB who is into research. He's been flying up each week for checkups. We are leaving nothing to chance." "He was looking pretty green a while ago," Frohike pointed out. "Morning sickness," Mulder explained glumly. "It's the pits. Doc Robert says it will go away in a couple of weeks, at the end of the first trimester." "Mulder," Byers said, getting his friend's attention. "I don't want to bring up a sore subject here, but.....aren't you freaked?" "Well, between the synthetic hormones and the psychological ramifications..." Mulder said clinically, then stopped and let his eyes fall on Scully. They locked gazes for a moment and everything else on the planet lost meaning. Then, coming back to the present, Mulder continued, his throat husky. "I wouldn't miss this for the world." "So, when's the big day?" Frohike asked, trying very hard to hide any resentment he might be feeling. "They haven't really talked much about that," Maggie interjected. "Actually, Mom, we were going to tell you sometime today, and now is as good a time as any," Dana said, and took Fox's hand in her own. "Last night I asked Fox to marry me. And he said yes." Dana's heart leaped as she saw her mother break into tears of joy and rush over to hug them both. "Thank you," she murmured, kissing them both in turn. "Thank you so much. You've made my Christmas, and many Christmases in the future, too. I couldn't be happier!" Byers cleared his throat. "I hate to mention this, but I assume you're in hiding for a reason?" "We still don't know who did this to me. Or what they might want. And we don't want the publicity, if you can understand," Mulder added, searching the three faces with a pleading expression on his face. "I'd hate to have this be the cover story on the June issue of LGM." The three looked at each other. They had a magazine to run. They had subscriptions to worry about. This was very possibly the news story of the century. But without words, they reached agreement. "It won't be. On one condition," Frohike said, drawing himself up to his full height. Scully winced and Mulder shrugged. "What condition?" he asked. The little man smiled broadly. "That I get to be your Maid of Honor." Part Eleven. Here Comes The.....Bride? "Ouch!" "Sorry. But if you didn't keep shifting, I wouldn't have caught you with the pin." Scully adjusted Mulder's clothes again. "There you go." "I don't see why I had to get dressed up for this wedding anyway," Mulder groused. "Fox, it's *our* wedding. I'm making an effort too you know." "I know, Scully, I just feel so. . ." "Mulder, come on. We've been through this. We flipped a coin and you lost. Now, get in the damned outfit and let's get the show on the road! I have to get ready as well. I'll see you there." With that she stamped out of the room, leaving Mulder frowning after her. Her words had been more than a little angry, and they hurt. What was happening? Did she feel like she was forced into this wedding? His mind reeled. It wasn't his fault. He didn't *ask* to get pregnant. But then, it wasn't really her fault, either. She sure didn't ask to be the father. OK, so whose fault was it?!? He was sure of it, even if that part was more or less foggy in his memory. He wondered if that black lunged bastard had done it deliberately, to humiliate him. Probably. Reluctantly, he finished putting on the clothes she had laid out on the bed. It was going to be a long day. He was adjusting his sleeves a few minutes later, when there was a soft knock on the door. "Fox, it's me. Are you decent?" "Yeah, Mom. Come on in." His mother walked into the room and caught her breath. A moment later her face lit up in a tremendous smile. "You look so....," she stopped and wiped a tear away. "Oh, sweetheart, if only your father could see you now....." She grabbed her son and let the tears flow onto his shoulder. Mulder silently thanked any gods that were listening that his father couldn't see him now. At least he hoped not. He missed his father, but he was glad he hadn't had to explain to William Mulder just how his grandchild was coming into the world. "Mom, I don't think this is a good idea. Scully says this material shows water spots." He struggled to reach over on the night stand and hand his mother a tissue. She took it and wiped her face, regaining her composure. "Of course. It's just.....I've always dreamed of this day. It's just how I always imagined it would be." She sobbed quietly, but her eyes showed her joy. Fox looked askance at her, but let that pass. "Well, I'm glad I could finally make you happy, Mom," he sighed. "Now, could you help me with this veil?" ***** He was finally dressed and walked out into the hallway. he wondered. The house was a good size, but there had to be over a hundred people crammed into the living room. There was Henderson, from graphology, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. And Pendrell. Mulder noted wryly. Skinner, over in the corner, nodded to him. Mulder nodded back and continued to scan the room, catching sight of a familiar and unwelcome profile. he fumed. Well, at least he'd get the satisfaction of marrying Dana in front of Colton. Pendrell he felt sorry for, but Colton had tried to take Dana away from him. "How are you feeling?" he heard a familiar voice ask. "All set?" Frohike. He knew that voice anywhere. "Glad you guys finally decided to show up," he said, starting to turn around. "I was getting...." He stopped short at the sight that greeted him. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," replied Byers. "After all, we are in attendance," Langly added, bending his head so Frohike could adjust the flowers in his hair. Mulder's world spun. He wasn't seeing this. Before him stood the Gunmen, in matching yellow satin gowns and floral headdresses. Byers and Langly just looked strange, but at the sight of his good friend Frohike, standing in a yellow satin gown, with ruffled sleeves and a pleasantly (on anyone else) seductive neckline.....Mulder screamed. "Mulder! Mulder, wake up. It was just a dream, love. Just a dream. Shush! It's OK. You're safe." Dana was holding him, rocking him, wiping the sweat soaked hair off his forehead. "Oh, sweetheart, that one must have been horrible," she murmured. "I've never seen you look so frightened. You woke me up with your screams. What was it? Sam's abduction?" He shook his head fighting to control his own breathing. At last, he felt he could trust himself to speak. "No, not Sam. Not this time. Dana, I love you, and I want us to be together. But we *have* to talk about this wedding. I want to know exactly what's being planned. Right now, please." "Now? It's two in the morning! Can't it wait?" "Now. Please Dana." He looked at her sorrowfully. She sighed. "You're pregnant. I'll indulge you. OK, I was thinking of an ivory satin gown..." "For you, right?" She looked puzzled. "Well yes, I was thinking blue for the bridesmaids. I thought I'd wear ivory. Is that OK?" He hugged her. "You'll look beautiful. And who are your bridesmaids again?" "My friends Kathy and Ellen. Remember? Mulder, are you sure you're all right?" "I'm just fine now. Now, could you let me see the guest list....?" Part Twelve. To Have And To Hold. The safe house. Saturday January 25th 1997. 2.00 pm. Fox Mulder finished tying his tie and looked at himself critically in the mirror. Three months of pregnancy hadn't yet made too much impact on his figure he decided. He'd gained a little weight around his stomach, but he'd always been lean, and the spare tyre hardly showed. He put on his jacket and pinned the white carnation in place. Ready. He hoped Dana would be pleased with the way he looked. He'd been conventional, even down to the plain tie, to please her, though she'd told him to dress as he wanted. In a way he liked it, the simplicity had an elegance. He hoped he looked reasonably smart, even though he knew all eyes would be on her. He'd become more concerned with his appearance once he'd become pregnant, probably because of his terror that she would find him revolting. Now he assured himself that he looked tidy, and turned as he heard the bedroom door open. His best man bustled in, himself neatly dressed in an outfit almost identical to Mulder's. "Ready? I just checked with Mrs Scully, Dana's nearly dressed. We ought to be going, to get there on time ahead of her." "Ready." Mulder followed Byers down to the waiting car, being careful not to trip on the stairs. He'd only known about the baby for about a month, but he instinctively found himself being cautious not to fall. He had a responsibility to Scully's child. He and Byers climbed into the car and set off for the small church Margaret and Dana had found. For all her scepticism, Dana had wanted some kind of blessing on their union, and Mulder hadn't minded. The priest had had the situation explained to him, under the promise of secrecy, but after his initial shock, he'd agreed to marry them. God, he'd told Mulder, moved in mysterious ways sometimes, and they certainly wouldn't be the first couple he'd married with a baby already on the way. Even though he had little time for religion, Mulder had liked the man. Now he saw him waiting for them at the door of the pretty grey stone church, just inside out of deference to the snow that still blanketed the churchyard. "Good afternoon. Come inside, both of you, it's too cold a day to spend out here." He led them both inside, and then surprised Mulder by shaking his hand warmly. "It is good to see you. This is your best man?" Byers was duly introduced and politely shook hands, seemingly relaxed and at ease. He addressed the priest. "Father, I sent the witnesses on ahead of me. Have they arrived yet?" A slight grimace passed over the priest's face. "Oh my, yes. That would be the short gentleman, and the gentleman with the long blond hair? They got here about twenty minutes ago. Last time I saw them, they were in the vestry, scanning it with some kind of electronic equipment." Byers sighed. "I told them it wasn't really necessary. I ran a check on this church and you beforehand. Sorry to hear about that appendix problem two years ago, Father." He turned to Mulder. "I'd better go take them in hand. Can you manage without me for a few minutes? Maybe greet your guests?" He strode off into the church, leaving Mulder with the open mouthed priest. Mulder smiled. "If you'll excuse me, Father? I'd better go and say hello, and then take my place at the front." He strolled off as nonchalantly as he could manage. Father Andrew sighed, and positioned himself at the door again to await the bride. Witnesses that scanned his vestry. A best man who knew his entire medical history. A pregnant groom. He wondered if the bride was normal. If so, he had a sneaking suspicion she was in for a rough ride. Maybe he should preach his sermon from the book of Job, rather than using the wedding feast at Cana. Mulder stood quietly at the back of the church for a moment, and let his eyes scan the guests. There weren't many, they'd wanted to keep it quiet, and not all of those they'd invited knew the full story. His mother was there, with his uncle and a cousin. Danny had shown, along with Martin, one of Fox's school friends, and the two men had obviously introduced themselves and were chatting amiably. On Scully's side there was no family, her brothers and their families hadn't been able to attend. Margaret would sit there, but she wasn't here yet, probably still fussing with Dana's dress. Dana's old professor had come along though, and Mulder nodded to him, not having seen him since New Jersey. Beside him sat one of Dana's female Bureau friends, and behind them sat Dana's godson Trent, and his father, having been sent on ahead by Ellen, Trent's mother. And that was it, apart from the attendants. No official Bureau presence, since Skinner would be attending in a private capacity. And definitely no Colton. Mulder smiled to himself. His reverie was interrupted by complaining voices, as Byers marched Langly and Frohike out of the vestry. At the sight of him standing there alone, Langly and Frohike forgot their arguments and hurried up to him. "Mulder! How are you feeling?" Langly looked at him quizzically. "Scully not here yet?" Byers patted Mulder on the shoulder. "She will be. She isn't due to arrive for another ten minutes. Best get up to the front." Frohike smirked then sighed regretfully. "I'll bet she looks good. You're one lucky man Mulder. I envy you tonight." Langly meanwhile was looking suspiciously at poor Father Andrew, who was staring out of the door, trying to ignore what was going on. "Yeah, but I still think she ought to be here by now." He patted Mulder's other shoulder. "Don't you worry, nobody runs off and leaves a friend of ours pregnant. If she makes a run for it, we'll find her and make her do the honourable thing. No way she's going to dodge her responsibilities." "Agent Scully wouldn't do that!" Frohike protested. "You'd be surprised," Langly argued. "Impending parenthood can be a frightening prospect. And we know she's already had her fun with our friend here at Christmas." He ignored the incredulous look he got from Mulder, Frohike's sorrowful glance at being reminded, and the warning glare from Byers. "She might decide Mulder was a bit of fun while it lasted, but she isn't ready to settle down. Happens a lot. You can't trust them, they'll use you and then clear off and let you face the music alone." He patted Mulder again. "I'm just trying to help." Byers cleared his throat. "I don't think he needs that kind of help, Langly." Langly looked worried. Mulder smiled "It's OK, Langly. Thanks for the warning, but I think she'll show. She'll not let me down." "Of course not!" blustered Frohike. Father Andrew interrupted. "Excuse me, but the bride just got out of the car. Would you please take your positions?" Langly beamed. "Looks like I was wrong. Come on!" He and Frohike started up the aisle. Byers and Mulder exchanged amused looks and followed. Scully adjusted the veil again and waited while her mother hurried into the church to take her seat. Behind her Kathy and Ellen, her attendants, straightened her dress and then their own and took their positions. Smiling Dana looked up at Walter Skinner, standing handsome in his best suit beside her. "Sir...thank you again for giving me away." Skinner smiled down at her. He'd never admit it openly, but he'd always had a soft spot for this woman. She was one of his best agents, and easily his favourite. He'd respected her for a long time, mourned with Mulder when she had been dying, rejoiced when she'd made her recovery. He knew working with Mulder couldn't be easy, and he appreciated the way she kept his errant agent in line. Most of the time anyway. He had felt sorry for them both when they'd discovered Mulder's pregnancy, and he was happy they seemed to have turned it to their advantage. He'd known for a long time how fond they were of each other, and he wasn't too surprised when they called and told him of their wedding plans. But he'd been surprised, and then touched, when Dana had asked him to give her away, in the absence of her father and brothers. Now he offered her his arm, and they walked carefully to the church door where the priest awaited them. The congregation turned as the music began and the bridal procession walked slowly up the aisle. Mulder's breath caught as Scully stopped beside him and the priest turned to face them. She looked so beautiful and delicate in that gown, as if a gust of wind might blow her away. Lifting her veil, he longed to reach out and kiss her, but he knew he'd better wait. Suddenly he realised the priest had begun talking, and hastily turned his attention to the service after giving his bride a reassuring grin. Time enough to tell her later how lovely she looked. Scully smiled briefly at Mulder as he lifted her veil. He looked gorgeous in that suit, and she figured he'd worn it partly to please her. Time enough to tell him later how handsome he looked. ***** The service over, the congregation tarried a few moments in the cold churchyard for some photographs, before Maggie swept them all off into a local hall she had hired for the occasion. A buffet had been laid out awaiting them, and when the photographer was finally finished, bride and groom began doing the rounds of their guests. A while later Maggie came across her daughter, glass of wine in hand, skulking behind a curtain. "Dana? Is anything wrong?" Dana sighed. "No mom, just sneaking a drink." "Why sneaking? It is your wedding day." "Yes, but I feel bad for Mulder. He's got to avoid alcohol, so I try not to drink in front of him. Besides, several people out there think that I'm pregnant." Maggie nodded. "Fox told me. He said you'd thought it best to tell certain people that. When are they going to know the truth?" "Possibly never, Mom. And in the meantime, it would look suspicious if I, a doctor, were drinking during pregnancy. So I hid." She caught her mother's eye and they both began to laugh. "Anyway, now that I've had my wine, I guess I'd better go keep Fox company. Have you seen him?" Maggie nodded. "He's talking with his mother." Mrs Mulder sat straight in her chair, her eye fixed firmly on her errant son as Dana approached. Ill health might have made her weak, but she was still able to tell her son a thing or two. "And in my day," Dana heard, "a man respected a woman. He waited until she had that ring on her finger. Getting someone in a family way without marrying them first indeed!" Mulder realised suddenly that his new wife had joined them. This he couldn't resist. He put on his best remorseful expression. "Mom, you're right. Only the worst kind of heel takes advantage like that." Beside him he heard Dana's strangled gasp of protest. "Still, at least in this case someone did the decent thing, huh? Even if it was a little late." "I suppose." For a moment his mother's expression softened. "You made such a lovely couple. I'll look forward to my grandchild." "Thank you," Dana said, smiling at her mother-in-law. "Will you excuse us? I have to talk to Fox a moment." She steered Fox away as his mother turned and began talking to his uncle. At a safe distance she grabbed his arm and pushed him against a wall, out of sight of their guests. "Dana! Can't you even wait until tonight?" He smirked at her. "We still have guests, you know." "Fox Mulder, if you weren't pregnant, I'd cripple you. What do you mean by doing that to me in front of your mother?" "What?" He grinned. "She blames me!" Scully opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of the music starting up. Instead she grabbed Fox by his wrists and pulled him towards the dance floor. "Come on. We have to start the dancing." "In front of all these people?" "Think of it as penance." A ripple of applause greeted their appearance as they sank gently into each other's arms for the dance. Scully put her head against Mulder's chest as he burrowed his face into her hair, both only half listening to the soft hypnotic song Langly had plucked out at random. ...."Under a blackened sky, far beyond the glaring streetlights, sleeping on empty dreams the vultures lie in wait....." Mulder frowned slightly and looked down at his new wife. "I'm not sure Langly appreciated the lyrics to this. Want me to change it?" She shook her head and snuggled against him again. "No. I like the beat. And I'm not going to let those vultures part us again." She slowly traced his jawline with her finger. ...."You lay down beside me then, you were with me every waking hour, so close I could feel your breath....." Mulder sighed and held her close. He had endured so much to reach this moment. He could so easily have lost her, so many times. He silently thanked Fate. ...."When all we wanted was the dream, to have and to hold that precious little thing, like every generation yields the newborn hope unjaded by the years...." Scully's hand rested softly on her husband's stomach and their eyes met. "Guess this wasn't such a bad choice, huh Mulder?" "I guess not." He closed his eyes again as the song played on. ...."And there is a love that's inherently given......" They danced on, only vaguely aware when other couples joined them, wrapped up in their feelings for each other and the child they were expecting, pausing only occasionally at Dana's insistence to sit down ("Mulder, you need to relax occasionally. And people will wonder why I don't."). The arrival of the car at eleven pm to take them back to the safe house surprised them both. Maggie, who was returning home for a while, hugged them both as they left. "Take care of each other." She pushed a package into Dana's hands. "A final present." They each hugged her. "Thanks Mom. But you've already given us a present!" Dana said. Margaret smiled. "Let me indulge you." "Thanks Mom," Mulder said shyly. "That is..if it's OK for me to call you that?" "Of course. Now go home, the pair of you. I'll be back in two months, to stay for a while, OK?" She looked at them anxiously. "Unless you'd rather I didn't?" Mulder kissed her, while Dana squeezed her hand. "There's nobody we want around more than you," Fox told her. "We'll see you then." He took Dana's hand and led her to the waiting car. Maggie watched it drive away and went back inside bursting with joy, to supervise the clearing away. In the car, Scully had her arms around her husband, and her head snuggled against him. Curled around each other, they drove through the still night towards the safe house, and bed. Part Thirteen: Fireworks And Candlelight. The safe house. January 26th 1997. 11:45 pm. "I could use a drink," Fox Mulder said with a sigh as he ushered his new bride out of the hire car. Nodding his thanks to the driver, he turned and unlocked the door of the house. "Nothing...." "Alcoholic," he finished for her with a grim nod. Dana Scully smiled indulgently. "Actually, I was going to say 'with caffeine'. I know you wouldn't get *that* kind of drink." She paused just before she crossed the threshold, studying Mulder's face. She knew he wanted to carry her over, but in his condition he couldn't. Smiling demurely she offered him her hand, and his face brightened as he helped her step carefully into the house. Taking off her warm coat, she hung it on the coat tree, wanting to be free of the weight of clothes she had been wearing all day. Twisting her arms behind her, she tried to loosen her long gown. "Hey, could you give me a hand?" she asked. Mulder turned from hanging up his own coat and looked at his new wife. She had her arms twisted over her head, trying unsuccessfully to undo the 25 satin covered buttons that ran the length of her back. He smiled and nodded. "I've been meaning to ask about these," he said, indicating the buttons. "I couldn't help but notice there were *so many* of them. Any special significance?" "I don't think so," Dana replied thoughtfully. "I mean, they look, well, 'fancy'. Wedding gowns often have lots of buttons. Why?" "Seems sort of like stopping the action before it even starts," he observed and was rewarded with a soft chuckle. He leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. "Have I told you how beautiful you looked today?" "Remind me to always get dresses with lots of buttons," she murmured, turning and kissing him passionately. Fox ran his hands up her arms and gently slid the dress off her shoulders. "You smell great, too," he noted as he nuzzled her neck. "Nice and fresh and soooo sexy." "Thank my deodorant. I was perspiring the whole reception," she laughed, softly. "My mom scare you that much?" he asked, never letting his full attention drift from the task of slowly undressing her right in the middle of the hall. "Between your mom thinking you're a cad, and Frohike bursting out into tears every time someone clinked their glass to make us kiss, yes, it was a stressful day at times. But I loved dancing with you," she said, and saw the gleam of agreement in his eyes. "And I think I have a pretty good idea of how we can relieve some of this tension," she said seductively. All the while she was being undressed, she had successfully disrobed the handsome man in front of her. They now stood in the hall, only in their undergarments. "Hold that thought, Fox," she said quickly and scampered off to the bathroom. "That won't be hard," he sighed and headed off to their bedroom. He switched on the light and immediately broke into a smile. The smell of roses was almost overpowering. The flowers from the church had 'mysteriously' appeared in their bedroom, making the room smell like a garden in late summer. Candles of all sizes and shapes were scattered over the bureau, the nightstands and the window sills. A box of kitchen matches with a note attached, sat on his pillow. >>Light the candles and check the fridge. Have a wonderful night. We love you both, very much. (signed) Moms, Scully and Mulder<< Checking to ensure that Dana wouldn't be making an appearance before his return, he hurried off to the kitchen. Among several foil wrapped dishes containing what he could only assume to be Mrs. Scully's fabulous lasagna, was a tray with assorted cheeses and fruits, and a chilled bottle of sparkling wine, non-alcoholic. Two wine glasses twinkled on the countertop with two linen napkins. He scooped all of it up and hurried back to the bedroom. He rushed around the room, lighting all the candles, then turned down the down comforter of the bed and slid between the sheets. he noted. He shook his head at the thought that his mother would have suggested such a touch. he decided. It was then that he noticed the new alarm clock/CD player on the nightstand. he grinned. He hit the button and the voice of Sting filled the room. "You could say I lost my faith in science and progress. You could say I lost my belief in the holy Church. You could say I lost my sense of direction. You could say all of this and worse but, If I ever lost my faith in you, There'd be nothing left for me to do...." He closed his eyes and had almost drifted off when he felt the bed move, and a warm presence engulf him. Without opening his eyes, he drew her into an embrace, running his hand down her back. "This is nice," he whispered as his fingers encountered the silk and lace nightgown she was wearing. "Something new?" "Present from Mom," she replied and sighed in contentment. "Something tells me that if we weren't already 'expecting', it would still be expected," he grinned and hugged her tighter to him. Opening his eyes he lay and admired her as she looked around, taking in the changes to the room. "Nice tunes. Where'd the new clock come from?" "My mom. She hinted at it this evening. So when did they manage to sneak off and do all this?" he asked. "I have no idea. But with the Lone Gunmen in attendance, I wouldn't be surprised if we have a string quartet hiding in the closet waiting for the right moment," she giggled. "I'm expecting the Boston Pops, actually," he said, and kissed her hard enough to take her breath away. She melted in his arms. "1812 Overture," he added, and turned to reach into the nightstand. She grabbed his hand and licked the fingers very slowly, making him catch his breath. "Special equipment is no longer necessary," she smiled. He answered her with a confused look. "That appointment I went to on Thursday was for a shot. No Irish twins in this family. At least, not unless we want, and definitely not for three months." He blinked. "What are Irish twins?" he asked, trying to understand the code she was speaking. His mind was reeling and not really able to concentrate on mere words any longer. "Siblings born within a year of each other. Charlie and I are Irish twins. Which makes one of us a surprise, or as Bill always told us, a mistake. I say it was Charlie because I was born first, but Charlie says it was me because they were expecting him and got me instead, so they immediately tried to correct the problem." "Too complicated for my New English Puritan upbringing," he surmised, and proceeded to nibble her earlobe. "This is very, very nice," he sighed. "I know," she returned in a husky whisper. "It's nice to be 'legal'." She could feel his smile against her shoulder where he was working his way down her body with kisses. "Legal. That's one way to put it," he answered. "Erotic. Aroused. Delicious. I guess you could fit 'legal' in there someplace." ***** "Ohmigod, Fox!" she screamed as light exploded behind her closed eyes. She could sense that her partner felt the same way judging from his ragged breathing. She kissed him gently on the eyelids, the cheeks and finally his mouth. "God, you are good!" she complimented him. "Ditto," he gasped. Speech was beyond his capabilities at that moment. He was too busy concentrating on the necessities of existence, like getting his lungs to fill with air and his heart to pump blood to other parts of his body besides the lower regions. Finally, he calmed down enough to think rationally. "That was wonderful," he murmured, pulling her against his chest and leaning back. She laughed teasingly. "I think I've created a sex fiend." "Always was one. Just needed a good reason. You, my love, are the best reason I've discovered." The new Mr and Mrs Mulder lay in bed together, curled around each other. "So, did you enjoy our day?" "I loved it. Did I tell you that I loved you by the way?" "Yes. Did I remember to mention I loved you?" "Yes." They lay together in mutual warmth. "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "You didn't just marry me because I'm carrying your child, did you?" "Of course not! I...I know this was all sudden, and we didn't have time to talk about how we felt until we came here. But I've always loved you, and I've always wanted you. That abduction, this baby..well, it was a blessing in disguise. I love you. And I love our baby." "Thank you." "You didn't just marry me because I got you pregnant did you? You never struck me as the type to do something you didn't want to just to be respectable." "No, the fact you knocked me up didn't come into it." "What a charming way to put it." They both grinned in the darkness. "Really?" "Really. Just because I'm pregnant was no good reason to marry. I always wanted to marry you. I was always just trying to pluck up the courage to tell you how I felt when this happened." "And now we're lovers, spouses, and prospective parents." "Uh, huh." They snuggled up. "Do I show much yet?" "Not much. You won't see it in the photos, don't worry." "That's good. I know it's vain but I didn't want to look pregnant on my wedding day." "So, do you want to make love?" "Again??" "Sorry. Are you tired? That's OK if so." "No, no. I'm pregnant, not ill. I was just teasing you." "C'mere then....." "Yeah, let's get good at this, before I blow up to the size of a house and all this is just a dream," he smirked, and he watched the fireworks go off in her eyes again. Part Fourteen: Cold Feet, Warm Heart. The safe house. February 14th 1997. 2.30 pm. "Mulder, I'm sorry, it can't be done," Dana said with her arms crossed in a defensive posture. "Why not? I mean, what's the problem here? It should be a simple needle and thread operation." He was leaning against the doorjam to the kitchen, a pair of well worn, much loved Levi's 501s in one hand, and a needle and blue thread in the other. "I'll do it myself if you'll show me how." "Mulder, in order to 'let out' those jeans, I would have to one, take off the waistband, two, add fabric to the side seams, and three, add fabric to the waistband itself. Face it, you are going to have to wear sweatpants until the baby comes. Then, after a few weeks on the 'ab-roller', you'll be back in those rags, er, I mean jeans, in no time." She went back to chopping carrots into the roasting pan on the counter. Mulder stood there for several minutes. When she finally looked over at him, the look of total despair was too much for her. "Sweetheart," she said lovingly. "I'm sorry. It's just a few months. Really, you'll feel a lot more comfortable in the sweats. They won't cut into your stomach and you'll probably breathe better in them, too. Here," she gently took the jeans out of his hands. "Let me put these up in the closet where we can be sure to pack them up when we go home. They'll still be waiting for you. OK?" She couldn't help but notice that he had followed her all the way upstairs to the bedroom, and watched her every move as she put the jeans in a box labeled 'post partum clothes' and put it on the shelf. Still in his boxers, Mulder glared at the chest of drawers in the corner of their bedroom. Slowly, he went over and pulled out a pair of navy blue sweatpants and put them on. "Dana," he called to her as she got to the doorway. "Yes?" she returned. When she looked at him, it was obvious that this was going to be one of *those* discussions. "Should we take this to the living room and get a drink before we start?" she quipped. It was evidence of how bad this discussion was going to be that he didn't even crack a smile. "OK, maybe not," she said evenly and sat down on the bed. Mulder didn't sit. He started to pace. Back and forth, in front of her. "Dana," he said, in his serious, this-is-important tone. "Fox," she answered. If he wanted 'serious', he was damn well going to get 'serious'. "I don't want to wear sweatclothes for the next five months," he intoned. "I like you naked, Mulder. It makes no difference to me," she replied and immediately realized the mistake of her comment. He was not going to be teased out of this mood. He turned to glare at her and she smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Now tell me, what's the problem?" "I've been thinking." He waited, half expecting her to come up with another sarcastic remark. When none was forthcoming, he continued. "Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea." Dana took in a deep breath. It felt like a knife had just been driven through her heart. The pain was so bad that all she could do was listen to him as he began again. "I mean, sure, it's a wonderful advance in science. And I'm sure a lot would be learned by continuing the experiment. But we are talking *lives* here, Dana. My life. Your life. And I just don't know if this is the right way to go about all this. I don't think I'm the right man for the job. I think we should consider....ending the experiment. Right now. Before it gets too far." He sat down next to her and took her hand. "But this isn't just my decision. It's half your experiment, too. So I want to know what you think." She was stunned. "I don't know what to say, Fox. I mean, I thought we had gone over this long ago. Why now, after all we've been through, are you having second thoughts?" "I don't know. And I don't know if they are 'second' thoughts, Dana. I think they're just thoughts. First, second, third, hell, I've lost track of them by now. I just feel.....it just feels wrong, somehow. Not right. Like something is missing here and I don't know what it is. This is a lot of trouble for a really dumb science project, you know," he said with a weak attempt at levity. "We have an appointment with Dr. Robert in an hour. I asked him to stay for dinner. What if we, or maybe you, talk to him then? A nice long talk. Maybe we need an outside opinion on this one." She took his hand and kissed it gently, then released it and stood up. "You need a nap, my love. I'm going to finish dinner. I'll call you when Dr. Robert gets here, all right?" "Yeah, good idea," he said and stretched out on his side, but sleep eluded him. It wasn't that he didn't love his wife. He did. It wasn't that he didn't want to have children with her someday. It just seemed that he was the only one experiencing the pain, the swelling, having to change all of his habits. Coffee was now a dream of the past, as was most of the fat laden food he loved the most. Sunflower seeds had been banned during Dr. Robert's last visit, because his blood pressure was elevated and they contained sodium. He was sleeping in a bed, (although that had an up side, since he was sharing that bed with his wife), his videos did not make the trip, (not that he *really* needed them now), and now he couldn't even fit into his most comfortable clothes. This was just too much, the last straw, the bridge was burning and he was on the wrong side. Punching the pillow in frustration, he finally found a position that didn't cause his legs to ache and fell into a fitful sleep. ***** "Fox, why don't you sit here and let me take your blood pressure," Dr. Robert said with a smile. The retired obstetrician was in seventh heaven with this case. He had taught OB/GYN at the University of Maryland when Dana had been in medical school, and was still involved in research, having just finished an article for the Journal of the American Medical Association. But working with the first male maternity patient was quite possibly the high point of his distinguished career. Not to mention that he liked the young man sitting before him. "Hmmm. It's still a little elevated, Fox. You haven't been sneaking those darn sunflower seeds, have you?" the doctor accused. Mulder sighed. "Not a one. Check the house, Dana has. There are no sunflower seeds on the premises." Dr. Robert frowned. He could tell when a patient was upset and the young man before him was practically screaming the fact at him. "OK, Fox, out with it. What's the matter?" the old doctor asked. Mulder stared at the floor. "I'm....I'm just having....I don't know if this is the right thing for me to do. If I made the right decision when I said I would go through with this. I mean, what they did, that was, well, if it doesn't constitute rape, it sure constitutes a violation of my civil rights, damn it! They abducted me, they put that implant in me....." Dr Robert hastened to reassure him. "Fox, I told you, the implant seems to be slowly releasing a pregnancy hormone. It's necessary, and it doesn't appear to be harming you. When we take the baby, we'll remove the implant as well. But for now we have to leave it, if you want a healthy baby, OK?" Mulder bit his lip, and shook his head. "I'm not sure I do want actually," he said quietly. "I'm sorry?" "I didn't ask for this baby. I don't know that I want it, either." Mulder finally looked up and the older man could see the torment in his eyes. Dr. Robert made a decision in that moment. He had talked to these two young people on several occasions. He knew Dana, she was a strong young woman who could handle just about anything that might come her way. The young man before him was made of steel, in the good doctor's opinion. He was determined and committed. Dana and Fox loved each other and had made a life together long before circumstances turned them into a family. Fox just needed to be reminded of what was really at stake here. "Fox, I want you to lie down, please," Dr. Robert said evenly. He turned to his bag and drew out a small black box that was about the size of an AM/FM radio with some sort of microphone on the end. Then he took a white bottle and lifting Mulder's shirt, he squirted a bluish tinted gel all over his stomach. "Oooo, that's cold," Mulder yelped, but otherwise, just watched Dr. Robert at work. This was the first time they had done *this* test and Mulder wasn't too sure what to expect. In a way, he didn't really want to know, he just wanted it all to be over. After a moment, Dr. Robert rubbed the microphone over Mulder's stomach, back and forth slowly. There was static over the radio. Suddenly, there was a thumping. Loud, regular, a little fast, but strong. A heart beating. Mulder drew in a breath and looked at the doctor in amazement. "Is that...?....Could that really be..?" Dr. Robert smiled knowingly and nodded. "Dana! Dana! Get in here, NOW!" Mulder shouted. Dana hurtled upstairs and into the bedroom as if being pursued. "Oh God, Mulder! What is it? Are you all right?" she demanded. Mulder put his finger to his lips and silently instructed her to listen. She stood stock still and in a moment, recognized the sound. A proud grin spread across her face and her eyes glistened with tears as she watched her partner look down in amazement at his swollen stomach, seeing her own tears mirrored in his eyes. "That's a good strong heartbeat, Fox," Dana said quietly. "Must be a fighter like its father." She suddenly realised the ambiguity of that statement, considering they still weren't sure which of them the "father" was. "I mean I think it might take after you." "You think?" He grinned at her proudly. "Mind you, you're one hell of a survivor yourself, Scully." Dr. Robert smiled again. he told himself. "Well whoever is responsible, that is one persistent little heartbeat." He moved to take the microphone off Mulder's stomach, but the young man caught his hand and held it there. "Can I listen just a little longer, Doc? Please?" Dr Robert nodded, and beckoned to Scully. "Actually, if I may I'd like to use the bathroom. Would you take over for a moment?" He pushed the microphone into Dana's unresisting hands and made himself scarce. Those two could use a few minutes alone. Mulder caught Scully's eye and smiled. "OK sweetheart?" he asked. She smiled back uncertainly. "Fox....about our discussion earlier, that was just....what?" He sighed. "I'm sorry love. I was being selfish thinking only of myself and not my family." "I think you're justified," she whispered. "It's your body." "But it's our child. And, when I'm not wallowing in self pity, I want this baby, as much as you do." He saw her face light up. "I'm still retaining the right to complain now and then. I think that's only fair. But there is no way I can walk away from this, Dana. This is worth all the inconvenience in the world." He pulled her into a kiss as the sound of their baby's heart echoed off the walls of their bedroom, leaving nothing but promises in its wake. Part Fifteen. But I Have Nothing To Wear. The safe house. March 24, 1997. 10:14 am. "Hi Mom," Fox said with a smile as he recognized the voice on the other end of the phone line. "Hi, Sweetheart. How are three of my favorite people?" Maggie asked playfully. "Dana and I are fine, the baby's great. Doc says everything is going terrific. Whoever these jokers were, they figured out the contingencies. Did you get the sonogram pictures we sent?" Mulder asked, licking ice cream off a spoon before putting it into the dishwasher. Dana didn't let him do a lot of chores in the house, but some she didn't object to, and loading the dishwasher had become one of his rituals. "I did, and I'm tickled pink. You asked them not to let you know the baby's sex huh? You can't tell from the pictures that's for sure." "We like surprises," Fox quipped. "At least, we're getting used to surprises," he added at the sound of Maggie's laughter. "You don't mind not knowing, do you?" "No," Maggie reassured him. "You're right, surprises can be fun. So everything's OK?" "Yes, Doc said that the baby is perfect. Dana put the pictures in the baby book already." "That's wonderful, Fox. I'm so excited, I can hardly wait. But that's not the only reason I called. I wanted to know what you two, or rather, 'three' were planning on doing this weekend." Fox stopped scraping the plate into the garbage and thought for a moment. The weekend. There was something special coming up on the weekend, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He finally gave up. "Got me, Mom. Dana likes to do laundry on Saturday. Why, you coming up for a visit? We'd love to have you," he said happily. He was always happy to see Maggie. She let him sneak all his favorite foods when Dana wasn't watching. Once she told him that when Dana was the one who was pregnant and craving her favorites, she'd understand, but until then, it was *their* little secret. "Fox, have you looked at a calendar lately? Next Sunday is Easter Sunday. I've heard from the boys, and Bill and the family are at his in-laws this year, and Charlie is still out to sea. I was planning on spending Easter up there with you," Maggie said. She went on talking about all the arrangements, but Fox had lost all interest in the conversation. Easter. He had forgotten. Well, not really forgotten. Easter was just one of those holidays that never came up when he was a child, his parents just hadn't bothered much. But he had noticed that Dana had gone once or twice to the little Catholic Church in town on Sunday mornings. He was sure she would want to go on Easter Sunday. It was pretty much expected. And especially if Maggie was visiting. But did he really want to go with them? "So is that all right, Fox? I mean, if Friday night is bad, I could come up Saturday morning, if you prefer," Maggie was saying, and it dragged his mind back to the conversation he was ignoring. "No, no, come on up on Friday, that will give us time to ah, dye eggs, I guess," he said absently. "Y' know, I think I hear the dryer. I forgot and put my tennis shoes in there and they're banging away. I better go grab 'em before they melt on the sides. Last time that happened, Dana hit the roof. Take care Mom, bye," he said and quickly hit the disconnect button. Mulder put the phone down and went to sit in the living room. He clicked on the television, not even noticing he had tuned to the golf channel. He was too busy thinking. Religion was not very high on the Fox Mulder list of things to think about, but this was different. This was Easter. And he was spending it with his wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, faithful, *Catholic* wife. At Christmas, Maggie and Dana had sneaked out after the presents were opened to 'grab a quick Mass' as Dana had told him later. With the Gunmen to keep him company, he hadn't felt compelled to accompany them to church. They hadn't said anything to him when they got back and everyone had enjoyed a huge Christmas dinner compliments of Maggie Scully. End of any possible religious discussion. But now, Dana was his wife. And they were very much a family, as his shifting and moving bulge of a stomach was quick to remind him. He patted his stomach gently, thinking hard. Families, normal families, had traditions. Happy traditions. Dana deserved some traditions in her life. They had never talked about it, but he was certain that Easter Sunday was a day she had probably looked forward to as a child. A time for a new dress, and brightly colored eggs, and all that candy. He knew malted milk balls were a secret passion of hers. It dawned on him like a bright light, she had been playing Handel's Messiah on the CD the past few days. Even though it was commonly heard at Christmas, Mulder remembered his music lit enough to know that it was really Easter music. Yes, Mulder was convinced that Easter was indeed on her mind. But she hadn't said a thing to him. Never mentioned it at all. Which meant that she was worried about his reaction. The only time they had discussed religion had been the Kevin Kryder case, and that was hardly the perfect venue. He hadn't been able to buy into the 'miracle' at the time, but she did. And it had affected their partnership on a deep level. Because of that case, he was sure she would assume that he didn't want to celebrate 'religious' holidays with her. She would probably sneak out to Easter Mass alone, if not for her mother coming to visit. She more than likely wouldn't even tell him where she was going. It dawned on him that only the secular part of the holidays would get any attention in their home. A part of her life, a part of her world, would always be hidden from him. That thought made him sad. "Well, Scully, this time you're wrong," he said to the television set, which was trying its darnedest to get him to buy a new improved pitching wedge. "We are going to celebrate all the holidays you did as a child. Hell, we'll do Diwali, Hanukkah, Christmas, and all the rest if it makes you happy! You like traditions, Dana Scully. I know that. And I love you, so you are gonna GET traditions, by god!" With a vigor he hadn't felt before, he started devising his plan. ***** Offices of the Lone Gunmen. March 25 1997. 9:40 am. "Lone Gunman," Langly said into the phone receiver. "Langly, it's Mulder. Turn off the tape," Mulder said with annoyance. "Ah, it's the little mother! How ya doin', Mom?" Langly exclaimed gleefully and hit the speaker button so that his cohorts could hear the conversation. "That tape had better be off, Langly, or they won't find your body," Mulder hissed, then his tone softened. "I'm fine," he added. "And that little bundle under your belt buckle?" Langly asked with a chuckle. "Bundle is fine, great actually. And Byers, you..." "And how's the baby?" snickered Frohike. Mulder grimaced as he heard the peals of laughter coming from the Gunmen. "*Very* funny guys." "Sorry." Langly coughed and managed to stop laughing. "How are things, really?" "They're OK. And Byers you were right. The second trimester is a breeze compared to the first. But I didn't call to talk baby talk. I have a mission for you guys," Mulder said. "You name it, friend. What is it? You want us to hack into some defense contractors? Maybe tap into the DIA files on the latest military hardware using UFO garbage parts? We aim to please....." "I need you to come up here and go shopping with me." ***** A Small New Hampshire Town. March 26, 1997. 10:21 am. It hadn't been easy getting out from under Dana's watchful eye. As a matter of fact, it had been almost impossible. Though she was normally easy going about who he saw, she'd become more and more protective of Mulder as the pregnancy progressed, and she obviously sensed something was going on with the arrival of the Gunmen. Mulder hadn't been able to tell her exactly what they were doing, and he could see she'd assumed they were going to ditch her and go chasing aliens, a risk she wasn't about to let Mulder take in his condition. He couldn't blame her for her suspicions, he thought ruefully. Finally, Byers had taken her aside and pleaded with her to let them go out and do "guy things", as he put it. He pointed out that Mulder was probably itching to get out for a while, and who better to watch over him than the baby's honorary 'godfathers'? Harmless stuff, he promised. No aliens, no breaking the law and definitely no jumping onto trains. After a great deal of discussion, and a lot of questions as to exactly where they were going and the nature of their activities, Dana had capitulated and allowed them to leave, but demanded that they take the cell phone and have it on at all times, informing Byers that if she got called to a hospital because Mulder was in Intensive Care, or to a jail to bail him out, both Mulder and the Gunmen would wish they'd never been born. They reassured her, and smiled, and vowed to be home by early afternoon, so that Mulder could go for his nap at three. "You take a nap, man?" Langly exclaimed as they made their way to the van. Mulder shot him a glare. "Wanta make something of it?" he hissed. Langly immediately realized he had hit a very sensitive nerve and regretted it. "Hey, no way, Mulder. I mean, I'd *love it* if somebody made me take a nap every day. Sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon." He elbowed Frohike in the ribs and the little man quickly nodded in agreement. "Geez, yeah, Mulder. Sounds hot. Especially if you get to take 'company' with you," he added with a leer. "Frohike, you are dangerously close to becoming target practice," Mulder warned. Frohike gave his best innocent smile and decided to stay quiet for the rest of the ride to town. "So, what are we talking here, Mulder? Baby stuff, a present for Dana, what?" Byers asked. "No, guys, we are looking for clothes. And since I need them and I want to get Dana something nice, I decided, well, I really had no one else I could turn to," Mulder admitted. "Don't work so hard to flatter us, Mulder," Langly said with a pout. "Hmmm, clothes," muttered Byers. "What kind of clothes?" "Something for Dana?" Frohike forgot his silence resolution. "Hey, I know this guy does a great line in leather and rubber..." Mulder gave him an exasperated look. "Not those kind of clothes." "Why not? All you'd need to pick up now would be a pair of fishnet stockings...she'd look great...." "*Respectable* clothes, Frohike," replied Mulder. "A nice dress, something 'springy' for Dana. And something, uh,.....well, something I could wear to a church," Mulder replied, a slight embarrassed flush creeping up into his cheeks. "You aren't getting nervous about this baby thing, are you, Mulder?" Langly asked, letting the concern show behind his dark rimmed glasses. "It's Easter, you dope!" Mulder shot back. "I'm not making it a habit. I'm just going because, well, because Maggie is coming up and Dana will want to go on Easter Sunday and....." "Sounds henpecked to me," Langly whispered conspiratorially to Frohike. Frohike saw the homicidal gleam in Mulder's eye and wisely decided not to comment. "For your information, I am NOT henpecked!" Mulder growled. "I am a family man now, and families have traditions. I'm not doing this for Dana,...." He stopped as three sets of eyebrows raised in disbelief. "OK, I'm sort of doing this for Dana, but mostly I'm doing it because I want our baby to have some traditions. Is that a crime!?" His voice made it clear that he was expecting a negative response to his query. Three heads shook side to side simultaneously. "No way, Mulder." "Of course not Mulder." "No one would ever convict you, Mulder." At the last comment, Mulder let them off the hook and grinned. They all broke down into laughter. "Sheez, this hormonal stuff is for the birds," Frohike confided to Langly, who simply nodded and smiled in agreement. ***** The foursome sat looking out the window and at least two of the faces were wincing. "Guys, I was hoping for something a little more, uh, upscale," said Mulder, his voice thick with reluctance. "What's the matter with you? This is a *great* store! I mean, they have that whole 'Cathy Lee Gifford' line of clothes, and they have a wide selection of 'big and tall men's' sizes, which we need for you these days. We couldn't find a more complete store in Manhattan, for cripes sakes!" Frohike cried as he jumped out of the car and headed across the parking lot. "He really likes Wal-Mart," Langly shrugged in explanation, and headed off after his friend. Mulder closed his eyes in an effort to dispel the horrible visions plaguing his mind. Byers gently took his elbow and lead him towards the entrance. ***** Mulder stood in front of a display rack of spring dresses trying to picture his wife in any of them. It wasn't working. He knew two Dana Scullys. One wore very fitted, very professional business suits and pantsuits. The other wore jeans and sweaters or sweat clothes. Then again, he was now acquainted with a third one who wore nothing at all and he smiled a tiny secret smile at the new version of his partner/wife. He shook his head to clear that particular thought and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. He'd never been to Easter Mass. He'd seen pictures, growing up. He remembered seeing women in dresses, bright splashes of colored flowers covering wide skirts. Wide belts cinched tight to accentuate the slim waistlines. Fitted bodices that left very little to the imagination, even in a religious setting. he chided himself. And a hat, to top it all off. But the dresses he was seeing on the display didn't look a thing like the one in his mind. It was not working. "Find anything?" Langly asked, wandering back from his perusal of the bras and underwear. Mulder gave him a stern look. "She's got plenty of that stuff, Langly," he scoffed. Then he looked back at the dresses in front of him. "I don't see her in any of these," he sighed. "Where's Byers? We need his opinion." "Lost in electronics, I think," Langly muttered. "Eureka, Mulder! I've found it!" cried Frohike from an aisle over. In a flash he was there, holding up a flowered print dress, wide belt and short sleeved. He held it just to his neck, to show where it hit on the legs. "Well, what do you think? Think it'll fit?" Mulder bit his lip to keep from laughing. Langly stood there, totally nonplussed. "Nah, Fro. You never put a red head in orange! Put that back. See if there's one with green as the background. Or blue. Navy would work, wouldn't it, Mulder? I mean, she doesn't have a lot of navy in her wardrobe, but it would look nice with her hair. Is she a true autumn, or does the hair throw that off?" Mulder turned to stare at his friend. "You are seriously scaring me here, Langly. Frohike, I'm sorry, but this isn't a 'Dana' store. No offence." He patted the short man on the shoulder. "Let's go see if we can find me something instead." "I'll just check the hats...." ***** Several minutes later, after Mulder had to physically drag Frohike away from the hat display, and Byers was coaxed away from the electronics department by the promise of coffee when they were done, all three co-conspirators were standing outside the one lone dressing room in the men's department, waiting for their friend to open the door. "Come on, Mulder. It can't be that bad," Byers was quick to assure him. "You haven't see it yet, Byers," Mulder's muffled voice wafted over the door. "Do you need a bigger size?" Langly asked helpfully. "They don't _make_ a bigger size," Frohike offered. Both the others glared at him. "Well, they don't," he said defensively. "Come on out, Mulder. Maybe you're just standing too close to the mirror to be objective," Byers suggested. Mulder finally opened the door, and glared at all three, daring them to comment. Immediately, all three friends bit down *hard* on their tongues. It wasn't that bad. It was worse. "Mulder, are you sure you aren't carrying twins?" Langly asked softly. The question earned him a quick jab to the ribs from Byers. "I think we got the wrong color," Frohike added. "Half of my wardrobe is this color, Frohike," Mulder said through clenched teeth. "I like brown." "Mulder, it makes you look,....ah, well, for some reason barns keep coming to mind," Frohike said frankly. "We need a looser fabric," decided Byers. "That fabric is too stiff. It's too confining." "I'm too huge," Mulder sighed unhappily. "Don't say that, Mulder. I think you have a, I don't know, a certain 'glow' to you. And besides, it's not like you're looking to be a 'babe magnet' on Sunday, right?" Frohike assured him. "I have a suggestion, though," Byers added hastily. "Make sure _you_ take all the pictures on Sunday." Langly shook his head. "Guys, we need a place that does good personal tailoring." He smiled at Mulder. "Don't worry, we can minimise it. Let's try somewhere else." ***** "Hey look guys!" Byers and Frohike looked to where Langly was pointing. "Impressive." "Yeah. Must be expensive. What do you think Mulder?" "It's great guys. But I came to pick out clothes, not admire the security cameras." Byers had found the store guide. "So, who are we transforming first Professor Higgins?" he asked Langly. "Mulder," said Langly firmly, steering them towards men's wear. ***** They headed home feeling a lot happier. An understanding assistant in the men's wear department had helped them pick out a suit, after Langly had sorrowfully confided to him about his friend's beer gut problem, and whilst it didn't hide the bulge totally, the well cut jacket and loose pants certainly made Mulder look presentable. For Scully they had found the type of dress Mulder had envisioned, with a delicate and tasteful floral pattern at hem and bodice, in a bright blue that would match her eyes. A matching hat had completed the ensemble carefully chosen by Langly and Mulder, and approved by the other two. Now as they headed back to the car with their purchases, Mulder stopped. "Hang on guys, I just need to call in here. I'll only be a few minutes." He vanished into the store he'd indicated returning a few minutes later with a bulging carrier bag. "You like candy, huh Mulder?" "It's for Scully and her mother. And a little for me," Mulder conceded. "It's for Easter Morning. And here," he thrust a box at Byers, a little embarrassed. "You guys like candy, right?" "Sure." "Then Happy Easter, and thanks for helping me out." "No trouble," said Frohike, trying to prise the box off Byers. "Wait till the weekend," Byers told him grinning. "We'll share it then." Frohike pouted, but subsided. "Well, shall we take Mulder home, and give our regards to the lady before we leave?" "She'll be sorry if you don't, for all her worrying about what we've been up to," Mulder replied. "Stay the night, make a fresh start tomorrow." They nodded, grateful not to have to head straight home. ***** The safe house. 26th March 1997. 2:45 pm. Scully turned from the window as she saw the car pull up. Not that she'd ever admit to Mulder how worried she was whenever he went out, but she'd been glancing out of the window for the past hour. She waited until she heard the key in the lock and slowly went downstairs, smiling at her husband and his friends. "Hi. Good to see you." Mulder chuckled. "And we didn't get arrested love. The baby and I are just fine." She nodded and turned to the Gunmen. "So, are you guys staying? You're welcome." "If it's OK with you," replied Langly. "Then we can set off afresh tomorrow." "Stay as long as you like. My mother's coming up this weekend, she often mentions you." Byers shook his head. "We can't, sorry. We'll have to leave tomorrow, there's a conference we need to be back for." Mulder looked interested. "I never thought of you as the conference type. MUFON or something?" "Governmental employees," replied Langly. At Mulder's puzzled look he explained. "We aren't attending. We're recording." "Ah." Scully thought it wise to change the subject. "OK, guys, you know where the spare rooms are. Help yourselves. Mulder, I'll make us a drink, and then...." "It's nap time." He hugged her, taking her by surprise. "I know. I'm grateful you take such care of me." Touched, she hugged him back while the Gunmen watched. Frohike sighed. "Gee Agent Scully, I'd have had your baby, if you'd only asked." Scully bit back a smile and regarded him gravely. "Thanks. What were you four doing today anyway, or can't you tell me?" "I'll tell you in the kitchen," Mulder said, steering her towards the door. The Gunmen smiled, nudged each other and headed upstairs. ***** "So?" "So.....it's Easter this weekend, you know." He smiled at her. She looked at him, warily. "And?" "And, it is customary for people to go to church. Don't think you're getting out of it, Dana Mulder." He laughed at the expression on her face. "I am taking you, and your mother, to church." "But you're an atheist! Why do you want to go to church?" "True, but it's part of your life. I want to go, to be with you. And so you didn't disgrace me, I bought you some new clothes," he added teasingly. She just stood and stared at him as he proffered the bag. Opening it he drew out the dress and hat. "Do you like it? It's your size, I checked." Her face lit up, and she hugged him as hard as she dared. Letting him go, she looked at the dress admiringly. "It's beautiful! And the hat matches perfectly! You picked this out?" "Langly helped." "*Langly*??" "Be grateful we didn't go with some of Frohike's suggestions." They both laughed. "I got myself some new clothes too. And I bought some candy, for both of us and your mother. No eating it until Sunday, I know you Scully women have a sweet tooth. And now, I shall make that drink and go take my nap while you talk to the guys." "*I'll* make it. You four deserve it." Her voice went quiet. "Thank you, Fox." "You deserve some traditions, Dana. So does the baby. We should raise it to appreciate its Mom is a Catholic, and its Dad is an atheist. Then when it's a teenager, it can make its own choice. What do you think it'll be?" "Confused most probably." She smiled again. "But yes, I agree. We don't push either view. It gets to know both sides, and decide for itself." "Agreed then. And in the meantime, we go to church, *and* we go UFO spotting without breaking the law. After all we both want to believe..." Part Sixteen. The Vultures Lie In Wait. Time and place unspecified. "So?" The man behind the desk drew on another cigarette, watching the agent before him. A good informant this one. "We've successfully managed to get our man onto the team. He's been with their Dr. Robert a long while, as a research assistant. He managed to get himself picked as one of the junior doctors in attendance." "And...ah this Dr. Robert does not suspect?" "No." "Has our man examined Mulder at all?" The agent shifted uncomfortably. "No sir. They are only having Dr. Robert attend them, until the actual birth. But we have obtained photocopies of Mulder's medical notes, and Dr. Robert's observations." "Good." His boss reached for the file. "And our insider will be there for the birth itself?" "Yes." "It will suffice. Very well, you can go now." The agent gratefully left, closing the door behind him. The man in the chair leaned back and smiled to himself. It all seemed to be going very....satisfactorily. He wondered how Mulder and Scully were taking this. Mulder especially. Was he humiliated? Almost certainly. Scared? He'd be a fool otherwise. And his relationship with Agent Scully....well that was taking an interesting turn. He glanced down at the photocopied marriage certificate. he wondered. . He laughed quietly to himself. It would be a shame to lose Mulder in childbirth, a great shame considering what a worthy adversary he was, but this experiment was worth it. The medical knowledge to be gained was enormous, and on a personal level the image of Mulder pregnant amused him. He pushed aside the marriage certificate and picked up a photograph of Mulder in the safe house's garden. he thought. Idly he wondered what Scully would do if she lost her husband. . Well, he'd deal with that if it happened. There was a knock at the door. "Come in Dr. Baker." The doctor quietly entered. "You sent for me, sir?" "Indeed. I have just been talking about you. I'm told you've managed to get in as part of the medical team. I expected nothing less of course. You've been fully briefed by Dr. Philipe?" "He informed me of the notes you want me to take, yes. I'm to call you as soon as is discretely possible after the birth? And get further instructions then?" "Yes. If the child is healthy, then it and the parents are of no further interest. We'll leave them alone to raise it. No reason to remove them, and I've always had reservations about killing Agent Mulder. Do you think he'll survive the experiment?" Dr Baker shrugged. "It's hard to say sir. He has a very high chance of survival in my opinion." "Good. And the baby?" "Harder to judge, but so far the pregnancy seems to have been normal." There was a chuckle from behind the desk. "Normal is not a word I usually associate with Agent Mulder, Dr. Baker, now less than ever. Very well. You will keep us informed of anything you learn, and you will call us after the birth. If the child is, as you put it, "normal", then you will be recalled." "And if it isn't normal?" "Then, we shall just have to see, won't we?" The man smiled, cruelly. Part Seventeen. All We Have To Look Forward To. The safe house. April 18th 1997. 3:17 pm. "What are you doing?" Dana Scully asked, standing in the doorway of one of their spare bedrooms. Mulder looked up from his seat on the bed, surrounded by all the boxes and spare clothes and things yet to be unpacked from the wedding. "Goin' through that box Mom sent," he replied absently. He was rummaging through a large packing carton that had arrived just the day before from his mother in Connecticut, sorting the items into piles. Already, there was an impressive array of baby clothes forming a mound at his feet. She knelt down beside him and gingerly picked up a tiny sleeper set, imprinted with little teddy bears. She drew it to her nose and took a deep breath, a gentle smile lingering on her face as she put it back on the pile. "She must have washed these before she sent them. They smell like they just came from the dryer," she commented, mostly to hide the very sentimental feelings that were rushing through her at the moment. "Yeah, Mom's a real neat nik," he agreed, not noticing the beautiful expression on his wife's face. "We should probably wash the stuff before we use it, though. Germs and all," he added. She grinned at that. Mulder, worried about germs - would wonders never cease? "Oh, most definitely. Just point out which pile is new-born clothes and I'll wash them and put them in the little dresser in our room. That should hold us until we're able to move back home." They had decided to stay at the safe house during Mulder's six week recovery from surgery and then move into her apartment, since it was the only one with two bedrooms. Eventually, they would have to go house hunting, but for now, that was pretty far down their list of priorities. She picked up the pile of 'new-born' items and started counting the little play and sleep jumpers, T-shirts and sleepers that were neatly folded, ready for their new owner. "Were all these yours?" she asked. Then she picked up a little blanket sleeper in a bright pink shade with bows all over it. He blushed, slightly embarrassed. "Ahem, I think some of that belonged to Sam," he intoned. She laughed at his expression of distaste. "Or it better had," he mumbled under his breath. "Well, that's great, because we can sort the stuff out by gender and then we're set for whatever we get," she said happily. "These things are in _great_ shape," she told him. "Mom's a pack rat. And I think she goes through every year and washes EVERYTHING. Aw, God, look at this! I don't believe it! I looked everywhere for this when I was packing for Oxford," he shouted and pulled out a rather dirty looking half of a plaster of Paris leg cast. "Oh, gee, how did you live overseas without one?" she asked, not bothering to disguise her sarcasm. He shot her a disgruntled look. "Do you have ANY idea what this is?" he demanded. "One half of a dirty leg cast," she said flatly. "And it still reeks! What was your mother thinking, putting that filthy thing in with the baby's clothes?" He pushed himself off the chair so that he towered above her. "Dana, do you KNOW what you're saying? This is PRICELESS! It's my most prized possession from my childhood!" He paced before her, cradling the plaster of Paris in his arms and stroking it fondly. "Wish I'd heard this story BEFORE I married you," she said with one eyebrow raised at him in disbelief. "Mulder, during my ortho rotation, I could have got dozens of those things. Enough for you to build an igloo," she said, restraining the amusement in her voice. "No, it's not just the leg cast, Scully! It's the signature on it. See, right here, just below the knee bend?" He held it down for her to look at. She took it hesitantly in her hands, grimacing at the smell and the feel of the dirty plaster. A piece the size of her little finger nail broke off and she shot him an apologetic look. Then she stared at the scribbling in the area he was pointing. "Rippie Oaksen?" she read uncertainly. "REGGIE JACKSON!" he howled. "Reggie Jackson! Mr. October! Homerun hitter for the New York Yankees! Come on, Scully. Don't tell me you don't know who Reggie Jackson is! I won't believe it," he said defiantly. "Oh, Reggie Jackson!" she said with a happy grin now in place. She had never seen Mulder this excited about anything so....normal. "Sure, I've heard of him. Billy had his baseball card. Wow, Mulder, how did you get him to sign your cast?" "This was the summer I broke my leg. I was playing ball and the pitcher was a real jerk. I knew that if I got him flustered, he'd throw wild and I'd either connect with the ball or make it to first on a hit batter pitch. So I gave him the finger. Made the little sucker so mad, he threw that ball like a rocket. It hit me in the leg and broke the bone. God, did that hurt. I wasn't quite 11 when it happened. I thought I was gonna die. Then, when I came to in the hospital and they told me that I'd have to wear this cast for the rest of the summer, I _wanted_ to die," he said emphatically, getting into the story. "Mulder, even then you had a propensity to get in over your head," his ever faithful, but much wiser wife clucked at him. "Yeah, Mom said pretty much the same thing. Anyway, I moped around for a week in bed, basically being a real pain in the butt. Mom and Dad moved my bed into the living room so I could watch TV. I watched baseball. I lived for it. Dad brought me books of statistics and I memorized them. I would quote them to Mom and Dad in the evening - probably drove them nuts doing it, too. Anyway, toward the end of August, Dad came home from a business trip and said he had a surprise. A minute later, there was a knock at the door and there stood Reggie Jackson! He was visiting some people on the Vineyard and my Dad had sat next to him on the Ferry coming to the island. Dad told him that I was laid up, and asked him if he had time to stop by. He said sure, anything for a fan. He stayed about a half hour, signed my cast and told me that making the pitcher mad at you was a sure way to end up in the hospital. After that, the rest of the summer didn't seem all that bad. But boy, I was really stupid, getting hurt like that. I asked for it," he said with deep regret in his voice. She stood up and took the cast from his hands and looked at it with reverence. "We need to get a glass box or a display case for this," she said quietly. "It's pretty dirty," he conceded finally. "Not exactly something you'd show with the good china." She shook her head. "No, not the good china. But the broken bat that I have in Mom's attic. I got it in 1985, the year the St. Louis Cardinals were in the World Series with the Kansas City Royals. I wasn't a real fan of either team, but it was my first World Series Game, and the guy I was dating knew the manager for the Royals. He got me the bat. I kept it in my dorm room all through med school." "What position did you play?" he asked, sitting down and pulling her onto what little lap he had left. She perched on the end of his knee. "Catcher. I wasn't that great. I did better at third base, but I liked the equipment the catcher got to wear. And Ahab had gotten most of it when Billy was pretty young, so I was the only one who could still fit in it all," she smiled, remembering. "You?" "Right field. I had the arm to be a pitcher, but I thought they were all a bunch of wusses. Never wanting to run the bases, always complaining about their arms hurting. I threw just as hard, just not as often." He was rocking her now, lost in his own memories. "So, what position are we gonna teach this one?" she asked, lovingly patting the bulge of his stomach. "I don't suppose we can teach him or her to be a sports 'announcer', could we?" he asked sheepishly. "I don't want to spend any time in the Emergency Room." She chuckled at his discomfort and gave him a light hug. "Sweetheart, kids hurt themselves. It happens all the time. We can't keep them in a bubble. What kind of life would that be? Think of how it grates on us when we think the other is getting too overprotective. Can you imagine a person with TWICE that factor in their genetic makeup? Gives me the shivers just to think about it," she said with a mock tremor. "So what are you saying? The way the two of us end up constantly under a doctor's care, we have that to look forward to - only worse?" he moaned, truly distressed. She laughed again. "Well, maybe these are recessive genes we're talking about and the dominant genes will make our children more cautious than we are," she reasoned. "Think so?" he asked, and really wanted an answer. She sat for a moment, thinking back over the last few years. All the evidence weighed against it. "Nah," she said slowly shaking her head. "We're in way over our heads," she conceded. He sighed deeply. "Well, at least I married a doctor," he said, nuzzling her in the back of her neck. "That should help a little." "I don't know about you, but I plan on being hysterical when it happens. And all my friends are pathologists," she said with a shrug. "Then we'll have our insurance company recommend the doctor and hope he or she doesn't check our track record" She laughed. "I guess we're going to have to change our name, because the name 'Mulder' has been inscribed in every hospital and doctor's office across all fifty states," she said, giving him a truly evil grin. Laughing he squeezed her gently. "Nope, I like my surname. Maybe we can hope they have short memories. I know, we'll deny everything!" he said in triumph, and was rewarded by Scully's groan as she slipped off his knee and helped him finish sorting the clothes, each wondering what their child would look like wearing them. Part Eighteen. Reflections. The safe house. April 24th 1997. 3:14 pm. Dana Scully examined the newly washed and rehung curtains with a smile. Finished. A few days ago she had felt the need to do some Spring cleaning, and this was the last job, the spare room Mulder had slept in before they had become lovers. Mulder had been amused by her cleaning spree, and insistent upon helping, and she'd managed to find plenty of non-strenuous jobs to keep him busy. Now he was sleeping, and she had come in here to hang the curtains and take pride in a job well done. She glanced around the neat and tidy room. Even the closets had been cleaned out and aired. Moving across to close the closet door, she noted what a good job Mulder had made of it, catching sight of her reflection in the carefully polished mirror as she did so. she thought to herself. Not that she was old at thirty three, but their lifestyle usually took it out of her, the injuries, the late nights. There was the faintest trace of shadow under her eyes, , but otherwise she looked well. Months of rest, and the pleasures of marriage, agreed with her. Unlike Mulder, growing bigger with their child every day..... Scully felt tears spring to her eyes, and sat down on the bed, watching the woman in the mirror do the same. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on that. The pressure of all this had already caused her to break down in front of Mulder when they'd found out, and in front of her mother at Christmas. She needed to be strong, not weak. But then again...Mulder was asleep, her mother was at her own home.....there was no one to see. Perhaps it was time to face those feelings and deal with them. She'd already accepted the worries she had for Mulder, those she could share with her mother. But this...she couldn't tell anyone this. They'd think her selfish, uncaring. How could she tell anyone how bitterly jealous she was? She looked at herself in the mirror, running a hand over her smooth stomach. Thirty three. And, finally, she was going to be a parent. But she wasn't the one carrying it. She wasn't the one forming that bond. Maggie was becoming a grandmother, but it wasn't Dana whom everyone was fussing over. She was finally fulfilling one of her secret dreams, a child with Mulder, but in a cruel twist she was being deprived of her natural part in all that, and could only stand on the sidelines, feeling neglected and left out. Dana started to cry, bitterly. She couldn't tell Mulder how she felt. And in a way she was happy for him, happy that he was getting the chance to experience carrying a child. But she felt old, and barren, and useless. Was she was never going to feel that first kick inside her, never going to watch her own body swell and change as the baby grew? She loved this child that was on the way, loved it dearly. It was hers as well as Mulder's. screamed her mind. She subsided into sobs, pressing her face against the pillow and never hearing the ajar bedroom door open softly. Mulder stood in the doorway, trying to decide what to do. He'd woken up, and decided to come looking for his wife, but had heard her crying as he'd crossed the landing. Now she was weeping to herself, and he didn't know why. What was wrong? Did she cry like this in secret a lot? He couldn't decide whether to just tiptoe away or go to her. But as he watched her, her body shaking with sobs, he couldn't bear it. Scully abruptly found herself being lifted off the bed, and turned around, and before she realised what was happening she was being cradled against her husband's chest as he sat beside her on the bed. Mulder shifted awkwardly, trying to fit her against his bulging stomach, as she wiped her hand over her eyes and tried to stop crying. "Shush. It's OK. It's OK, Dana," he murmured, stroking her hair. She gulped, and put her head against his shoulder, trying to think what she was going to say. "I'm sorry Fox. I guess, I was just tired. And I'm worried about whether we'll be able to cope, when the baby's born...." She trailed off. Mulder looked at her, shrewdly. "No you're not. You don't come and cry in secret over something like that. Especially as we've discussed how we'll cope. So what is it, love?" She didn't reply, and his face fell. "It's me, isn't it? You're regretting this aren't you? Marrying me I mean?" Scully looked at him, aghast. "No! Of course not!" Her own pain was momentarily forgotten as she hastened to reassure him. "Oh Mulder, how can you think that? I love you." "Then what is so terrible that you can't talk to me about it?" he asked gently. She didn't want to tell him, but one look at him made her realise she would have to tell him the truth, if she was to reassure him she still loved him. "I just feel...well, I feel envious." "Envious? Of who? Of what?" "Of you," she said quietly. "Of the pregnancy." Mulder opened his mouth to say something flippant, about her being welcome to the morning sickness and the tiredness, when he caught sight of the wistful, sad expression on her face. Of course. He should have realised it. Some psychologist he was. *She* should have been the one carrying this gift to him, not the other way around. He'd felt pleased and proud that he could give this to her, and glad of the attention Margaret had given him at the prospect of a grandchild. But Dana must have felt increasingly left out, even more so than a normal "father" would feel. He should have noticed. "I'm sorry, Dana. We've been leaving you out, haven't we?" She shook her head. "I just felt a little...well, left out, yes. But it wasn't your fault." He rocked her, gently. "Yes it was. I should have realised you'd feel this way. I know I will next time." "Next time?" "Sure. You don't want this one to be an only child do you?" "I....I haven't thought...I've been too wrapped up in this one..." "Well, I want our baby to have a little brother or sister. And if you think I'm going through this again, you've got another thought coming. Next time, Dana Katherine Mulder, it is *your* turn to throw up, and be unable to climb the stairs easily, and give up all your favourite foods." She wiped her eyes again and grinned at him. "You're just trying to make me feel better." He nodded. "Yep, I'm just telling you the fun parts." His expression became more serious. "Honestly though, I *would* like another baby. And next time, I'd rather like to be a regular Dad and see *you* carrying my child. How about it?" "Let's get this one out of the way first. Then maybe," she smiled. She slipped her hand into his. "Thanks Fox." "Anytime," he replied, kissing her forehead. "And next time....." "Next time?" "I'll hang the drapes and you can sit and do the closets...." Part Nineteen. If April Showers Bring May Flowers, What Do May Flowers Bring?* The safe house. May 1st 1997. 5:55 am. Fox Mulder awoke in the pale early morning light and smiled down at the sleeping person nestled in his arms. It felt good to wake up with his partner. He only regretted that they hadn't done it sooner, like sometime before they were about to become parents. But the thought of all the time they'd missed out on didn't darken his mood today. The sun was just peeking out over the tree tops, already brushed with a green tinge of spring. He had slept well, it had been a warm night and they had left the bedroom window open a crack. He kissed his wife's sleeping head and attempted to extract his arm from under her. She frowned without opening her eyes and wrapped her own arms around him in an effort to keep him beside her. "Bathroom, Scully," he whispered in her ear. She immediately released him and rolled over onto her back. Even in her sleep, Dana Scully knew that you didn't deter a pregnant person from making their 'appointed rounds' to the bathroom. He did have to go to the bathroom, he ALWAYS had to go to the bathroom these days, but that wasn't the real reason he was getting up at the crack of dawn. He had something important to do. He pulled on his sweatpants and threw a ratty old jacket over his T-shirt before grabbing his sneakers and heading for the kitchen, quickly turning on the water in the downstairs shower to cover any noise. He was out the back door before he knew it. The small garden at the back of the house was still looking a little winter weary. It had been a hard winter, with lots of snow, and some of it was still lying in piles near the privacy fence, protected from the spring sunshine. As the daily temperatures crept upward, the little piles grew smaller and smaller. It was a daily reminder of the coming of summer and he welcomed it. He was looking forward to summer. Usually, Fox Mulder ignored the passing seasons. Frequently, weather was more of an inconvenience to him. It seemed that they were always called to cases in the north lands in the middle of winter, and equally oppressive, to cases in the south and southwest in the dead of summer. He and his partner were constantly fighting dehydration from too many hours in the blazing sun, or bronchitis and ear infections from long exposure to wind and rain and snow. This time, the winter had made it near impossible for them to venture outside the little haven of their safe house sometimes. And he was feeling decidedly affected by cabin fever. He knew exactly what he needed to break out of the 'winter doldrums' and, as an added bonus, put a smile on his very pretty wife's face. It was something he had spied the day before, on one of his walks around the backyard. He was no longer able to go running, Dr. Robert had been adamant about it. So he had to content himself with walking on the treadmill they had set up in the corner of the living room, or walking around the backyard. It was a bit confining, but it was better than sitting inside all the time, and he took several walks during the day to relieve the leg cramps that had started plaguing him now that he was in the third trimester of the pregnancy. He walked around the perimeter of the privacy fence and a boyish grin blossomed on his face as he saw what he was looking for. It wasn't as easy to stoop these days, but he lowered himself as much as he could and reached when he couldn't get further down until he had his prizes firmly in his grasp. He held them gently, not wanting to damage them. He had learned long ago how fragile these things were and he had no intention of spoiling his surprise by bruising the offering. He made his way quickly back into the house and set about finishing his project. Some writing paper, a couple of well placed staples and a paper towel were pressed into service. With expertise born of long years of practice as a small boy eager for approval, he finished his 'package' and placed the small splashes of color tenderly in the folds. He stood for a moment and remembered how often he had done this little ritual as a boy. He must have been four the first time, when his father had told him the 'secret'. After that, he never missed a year, even when times at home had been tense, at best. It was the one comfort of childhood and something he'd looked forward to sharing with his love. He brushed the memories aside, and grinning like a madman, he tiptoed to the front door, opened it as silently as he could, and placed his present on the doorstep, right on top of the morning edition of the New York Times. Slipping inside, he rang the doorbell and hammered on the door, and then shut the door silently behind him. "Get that?" called a sleepy voice from upstairs at the sound of the doorbell. He ducked into the bathroom and turned the water up to full blast. Just to make sure she understood, he yelled "What? I'm in the shower," at the closed door. He laughed at the sound of mild cursing as she untangled herself from the sheets and threw on her robe. She stomped all the way down the stairs and he was almost doubled over with giggles as he crept into the hall behind her, stopping just in line of sight of the front door. She looked out of the peephole first, her gun, he now noticed, firmly in her right hand. When she couldn't see anyone, she went to the window and pushed aside the curtain, shaking her head at the absence of anyone. Finally, with a resigned shrug, she opened the door and looked around, her gaze ending at her feet. There, on top of the morning paper, was a little paper vase of crocuses, the first flowers of spring. Brilliant purple, yellow and orange fought for dominance in the tiny bouquet. On the little vase, which really resembled a paper cone with a handle, were the words, in script as familiar to her as her own: "Happy May Day - from your Secret Admirer" He got his reward when he saw her face light up. She stooped and picked up the flowers, leaving the newspaper ignored on the doorstep. With great care, she examined each tiny blossom, tracing each petal carefully and feeling the silky smoothness with a happy smile. He didn't even bother with the ruse of a shower any longer. He casually, he thought, wandered through the hall and acted as if surprised to see her standing in the doorway. "What is it?" he asked, straining to appear nonchalant. She smiled a truly enigmatic smile. "Nothing," she replied, and tucked the flowers in the pocket of her robe. "How about I make omelettes for breakfast?" she asked, not looking at him because she knew the smile on her face would give her away. "I thought Doc said to stay off the fat. Aren't omelettes on my 'after the baby' list?" he mused. "Just once won't hurt you. Besides, you look like a man who could use a good omelette. And maybe we could take a drive later. See the countryside a bit. We've been cooped up far too long," she offered. He smiled at her back as he followed her into the kitchen. "My, my, you are being awfully nice to me this morning. Is there some reason for all this pampering?" He knew he was stepping over the line here, but couldn't resist the temptation. She spun on her heel and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I just realized I married the most romantic man in the world, and I figure I better do everything in my power to keep him happy," she answered and kissed him on his chin. "Mom used to make me pancakes on May Day," he said in a mock pout. "Take the omelette and be happy, Mulder," she warned. "Yes ma'am," he said and helped her with the eggs. Part Twenty. I'm Going To Mother's. The safe house. May 16th 1997. 9:00 pm. Dana Scully had her arm firmly around her husband's substantial waist, but he still wasn't putting any weight on her. "Mulder, give it up and just *lean* on me, for God's sakes," she growled. "I will not! I'll crush you, Scully. I weigh a ton. I'm fine, I just need, aghhhh....." He stumbled through the door and landed with a creaking groan on one of the kitchen dinette chairs. "These things weren't meant to hold this much weight," he grumbled. The red haired woman before him all but ignored his disgruntled state. She was busy untying his sneaker laces and pulling off his shoes. "I told you that you'd been on your feet too long," she chided. She held up his foot so that he could see past his bulging midriff to his ankles. "I've seen smaller watermelon," she added, a definite undertone of disgust coloring her voice. He glared at her and pulled his foot out of her hand. "Thanks, *sweetheart*," he growled and gingerly rose to his feet. He was sitting again in a second. "Shit," he exclaimed. "Don't even try to walk on them for a while. And put them up on the other chair. It's the only way to get the swelling to go down," she said, getting up and getting a glass from the cupboard. She poured him a full twelve ounces of milk and sat it in front of him, accompanied by a oval shaped pink pill. He glared down at the objects in front of him, making no move to handle either of them. "Mulder, drink the milk and take the vitamin," she said sweetly, or as 'sweetly' as she could manage from between gritted teeth. "No." "Mulder, what has gotten into you today?" she cried. "You've been in a foul mood since you woke up this morning. Now, you know what the doctor said...." "Screw you! I heard the damn doctor. And I don't want any milk. I hate milk. I may never look a cow in the face again!" He folded his arms across his chest, resting them on his stomach and let out a puff of breath. Scully tossed her head back and rolled her eyes. He was so infuriating at times. And the times had been getting closer and closer together. She knew it was going to be rough on him. No other man had ever done what he was doing. she thought ruefully as she took the glass of milk and poured the contents into the carton in the refrigerator, then rinsed the glass and filled it with an equal amount of orange juice. She placed this in front of him with an upturned eyebrow, waiting for the next complaint. "Is that the calcium added crap you bought?" he asked, scowling at the glass. "Mulder, orange juice is orange juice. What the hell difference does it make? There's probably enough fertilizers in it to grow turnips in your intestines, so just drink it and take the pill, please," she pleaded. "I don't want orange juice," he said evenly. She hated when he did this. He was being difficult just to be, well, difficult. She tried to rein in her anger. He wasn't feeling well. The pregnancy was harder than they had expected. The doctor assured her that everything was going well, but she was getting worried that Mulder seemed to be having more discomfort than women she had known at this point in gestation. To put it plainly, some days he could barely get out of bed, he felt so awful. His ankles were constantly swollen, his hips and back were having trouble adjusting to the added weight of the baby. Muscles that on most men remained firm and taut were being stretched beyond their capacities and were making sure he knew that. And he hadn't been sleeping well, troubled by nightmares that he refused to share with her. In short, he was miserable. And there was very little she could do but be nice to him and help him get through it. "Mulder, what do you want? You name it, I'll get it for you," she said and tried for a smile. It almost worked. He regarded her for a moment before speaking. Finally, he looked her dead in the eyes. "I want....a beer." That was the last straw. Dana threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, great idea. Tell you what, why stop at a beer? Let's get a bottle of rotgut whiskey and get the kid *good* and sloshed!" He was getting red in the face, but Dana wasn't noticing. She stalked out of the room, her patience at an end. He followed. "You wanta know what *else* I want, Scully?" he taunted. "I want my couch! I want my couch and my TV and my VCR and my TAPES, Scully! I want my tapes!" He watched in satisfaction as she froze in her tracks. He liked the reaction, so he let his emotions carry him forward. "And I want potato chips, Scully. I want meat, *red* meat. *Cow* meat, Scully. No more of this 'chicken' and 'fish' and 'brain food' crap you've been making. And SEEDS, Scully! It's been forever since I've had sunflower seeds," he cried, pinning her against the wall between his arms and staring her down. "Too much salt," she spat out at him and ducked under one of his arms to continue down the hallway. "And you know what I really want, Scully?" he shouted at her. "I want to go to a bar and pick up the first woman I see and have mad, passionate sex with her in some hotel that rents by the hour and not even ask her name!" He heard the words ringing in the dimly lit hallway, but couldn't quite believe that they had come from his own mouth. "So what's stopping you?!" she shouted and ran upstairs into their bedroom, slamming the door so hard that it shook on its hinges. ***** Three hours later. (Midnight). Dana woke up, her pillow still slightly damp from her tears. It took her a moment to remember why she was crying. Then it all came back. A stupid argument. From the tone of his voice, she knew Mulder hadn't meant any of what he said. Well, he probably *did* want some sunflower seeds, and maybe, if she got the unsalted kind, she could indulge him a little. Ignoring her own creaking body, she pulled herself off the bed and walked over to the bedroom door. The sound of the knob turning echoed off the empty hallway walls. Except for her own footsteps, the house was silent. That was strange. Mulder liked 'white noise' - if it wasn't the television, it was the stereo or radio or something. she reasoned and wandered downstairs into the living room, ready to kiss and make up. The living room was empty. As was the kitchen, the hall, the three other bedrooms and both bathrooms. Was he out in the backyard at midnight? It was when she checked the yard that she noticed their car was missing. "Shit!" she said angrily. She went back into the kitchen and saw the note, taped to the cookie jar in the middle of the table. "I've gone to Mom's. Don't wait up." ***** Interstate 95, somewhere in Delaware. May 16th 1997. 10:30 pm. Mulder pulled the car out of the gas station and made his way back onto the interstate. The six pack of beer he'd just bought was sitting on the seat next to him, along with a copy of Playboy and some magazine that he'd never seen before, but the airbrushed photo of the woman on the front told him all he needed to know about the contents. He glanced over at the objects sitting there almost as if at any moment they would grow teeth and bite him. But something foggy took hold of his mind and he reached over one-handed, pulled a beer out of the plastic ring, popped the top and took a big swig. Then immediately spat it out all over the steering wheel. What the hell was he doing?! Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. With a feeling of pure disgust, he tossed the open beer out the window of the speeding car and a few seconds later, the rest of the six-pack and the two magazines followed. He felt a brief twinge of guilt at the crime he was committing, but if some bored highway patrolman pulled him over, he would gladly take the $500 ticket as just punishment. He just didn't want to be in the same car as those items. What was happening? Why had he got so angry at Dana? He barely remembered the argument. That alone frightened him, usually he remembered every second of his day. Not today, though. For several days now, he'd have brief moments of forgetfulness. He'd put it down to being preoccupied. But with what? He slept most of the day, if he did have any energy, he used it watching television, mostly the all sports channels. And why did he get mad at Dana? a bitter voice in his mind niggled at him. But was it hovering, or was she really just being concerned for his, no, their welfare? He was getting so confused. All he really wanted to do was get to Mom's house. It was calling him, like a beacon in the night. ***** Greenwich, Connecticut. Mrs. Mulder's residence. May 17th 1997. 1:00 am. "No, Dana I haven't seen him. Now tell me, exactly what happened?" Mulder's mother asked, concern heavy in her voice. She hadn't seen her son and daughter-in-law since winter, although they had called frequently. She knew they had busy lives, with their jobs and being newlyweds and with Dana expecting. It was a shock, to say the least, when her daughter-in-law called her, frantic, looking for her son, after not having seen them for so long. Dana sniffed and blew her nose. She had been crying for the last hour. Calling his mother was a long shot, she knew that. Mulder hadn't told his mother the truth about the baby, and was going to let his mother think that Dana had carried their child, once the baby was born. They had made an occasional phone call, but nothing other than just passed pleasantries, and Mrs Mulder had been lead to believe that the safe house was a "holiday home", and that they spent most of their time in Washington. Now, Dana had thrown caution to the winds in an effort to find Fox. She was no longer angry, just very, very worried about her husband. But she still didn't feel she could confide everything to his mother. She didn't think he would, either, but his note had said 'I've gone to Mom's'. All she wanted now was to make sure he was all right. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you so late. We had a fight," she finally confessed, holding the phone tight to her ear. "It was silly, really. Just a little spat that all married couples have, I suppose. I went to the bedroom and fell asleep. When I woke up, three hours later, he was gone," she sniffed again. God, she hated crying all the time. It seemed like that was all she did these days. "And his cell phone isn't on." "But why would you think he'd come here?" Mrs. Mulder asked innocently. "I've not seen him in months. Did you check your office? I'm sure I don't have to remind you how much of a workaholic he is sometimes," she smiled. "He might be there, even at this time." "No," Dana assured her. "I don't think he'd have dared go into the office. And I'd have heard if he did." Then, realizing how that must have sounded, she added. "We're on vacation for a couple of weeks. You know how vacation time builds up on government jobs. If we don't take the time, we lose it. Our boss told us to take the time or else. So if he showed up at work he'd have been ordered home by security, and I'd have been told to try keeping him there." she congratulated herself. "Nothing's wrong with the baby, is it, dear?" his mother asked, her voice starting to betray signs of worry. "Oh, no," Dana hastened to say. "I'm fine, the baby's fine, I just need to find Fox." Dana could hear the sigh of relief over the phone. "Well, then you might want to call his friends. I know my son, Dana. He's not the type to just 'run off'," Mrs. Mulder said confidently. "I'm sure he's somewhere safe." Dana bit her lip to keep from screaming. she prayed. ***** Margaret Scully's country home. May 17 1997. 9:30 am. Maggie Scully had risen early, breakfasted and was engrossed in making banana bread when the doorbell rang. Concentrating on her task, she didn't hear it at first, until it was joined by insistent knocking. She quickly made her way to the door, drying her hands on the towel tucked into her jeans. She opened the door to find her very pregnant son-in-law, teetering dangerously on her doorstep. His eyes were half closed, and from the smell, he'd indulged in at least one beer, most of which was probably on his shirt and sweat shorts. "Fox? What in the world?" she asked, as he pushed past her, tossing a pillowcase with what looked like just laundered clothing onto the sofa. She had been expecting him for some time, since Dana had called in the middle of the night, frantic to find him. When she glanced at her watch, she realized he'd really made pretty good time on the road. "Mom, can I stay here?" The look of absolute sorrow in his eyes tore at her heart. But there were more important matters right now, and one of them was getting him off his feet. "Start at the beginning," Maggie begged after she had settled her son-in-law down on the sofa, propped on pillows and with his feet on the coffee table. She'd have to wash the sofa cover to get the 'brewery smell' out of it, but at the moment, that was the furthest thing from her mind. "I can't do this," he said evenly. "I thought I could, but I can't. It's not working, Mom. She hates me. I'm fat, and ugly and she has to do all the work. I can't even help with the groceries. And we haven't made lo--," he stopped quickly, grasping for another subject. "She cries all the time. She doesn't think I hear her, but I do. She's not happy. And neither am I." "Fox, have you been drinking?" Maggie asked, but she made sure the look on her face was not one of condemnation. Mulder shook his head slowly no. "I bought a six pack at a convenience store, popped one open, took one swig and threw the rest out the window." He looked down at his shirt with a mixture of sadness and amusement. "I'm not that graceful these days. I spilled half of it on my shirt on the way out. I'm not drunk, Mom, I'm just tired. Tired and....scared, Mom. I get these thoughts in my head, and I just get so mad and I don't even know why." He looked up at her with a look of pure sadness. Maggie smiled at him and stood up, taking his hand and pulling him into a standing position beside her. "Fox, you are exhausted. More than anything right now, you need to sleep. Let's get you upstairs and to bed for a nap. I have a feeling things will seem a whole lot better after you've gotten some sleep." Mulder didn't look at all convinced, but was too tired to say no. As soon as Maggie had him settled in the upstairs bedroom, she headed for the phone. She called the safe house first, but there was no answer. She tried Dana's cell phone, but it was switched off, Maggie guessed her daughter was too distracted to remember it. She was about to call Assistant Director Skinner when the phone in her hand began to ring. It was Mulder's mother. "Dana called me last night. I guess she told you Fox was missing? She's frantic, Margaret. I didn't know what to tell her. She didn't tell me who she was going to call next, but I think she may be trying to contact some of Fox's friends." "Well, I have Fox here with me," Maggie assured her. "He's fine, but he's exhausted. I've got him laying down." "Margaret, what is going on? I mean, Dana was convinced that Fox would come to me, but I have no idea why. I've talked to him several times, but I haven't seen either one of them since the wedding. Dana assured me the baby was all right, but she sounded so worried about Fox." Mrs. Mulder's concern was back again, now that she was talking to Maggie. Maggie bit her lip to keep from telling the other woman the whole story. "It's just a lovers' quarrel, I'm sure of it. They're both a little emotional right now, with the baby due soon. I think it's harder on them than they thought it would be. I'll call her cell phone one more time and see if I can get her. She's probably on her way here right now. And I'll make sure they call you, to let you know everything is all right, OK?" Fortunately, Mrs. Mulder seemed satisfied with that. Maggie didn't have long to wait for her daughter. She arrived just three hours later. Maggie had finally raised her on her cell phone, to discover that she was already on the road to her mother's, but they hadn't spoken much on the phone, aside from Maggie assuring her that Fox was safe and asleep in her brother's old room. That was enough for Dana, at least for the time being. But Maggie sensed the situation was far from over and put a pot of soup on the stove. It was going to be a long day, she was certain. ***** May 17th 1997. 12:35 am "Mom, is he up, yet?" Dana asked, not even stopping to give her mother a kiss 'hello'. Maggie smiled indulgently. "No, sweetheart, he's still asleep. What did you expect, he drove all night long to get here. And you did, too. Why don't you go upstairs and lie down with him. I'm sure he'll sleep better with you near him, anyway," Maggie said, and gently pushed her daughter toward the stairway. "I don't know, Mom. He was pretty mad yesterday," Dana hesitated. "Yes, I'm sure. And he was pretty miserable this morning when he showed up on my doorstep. So go up there, wake him up and make up. And don't either of you come down those stairs until you accomplish that, hear me, Dana?" she said in mock gruffness. Dana nodded solemnly and trudged up the stairs, reminding her mother more of a teenager who didn't want to finish their homework than a wife going to bed with her husband. Dana pushed open the door and regarded the back of the man sleeping on the bed. He hadn't even bothered to take off his running shoes, he had collapsed on the bed and fallen asleep immediately, from the looks of him. The way he was curled, she could tell he was hugging one pillow and had one crooked under his topmost leg, to keep himself and the baby balanced. The sight of him made her heart melt. Quietly, she slipped off her shoes and climbed onto the bed with him. She started to put her arm around him, but he shifted and rolled over awkwardly to face her. "What took you so long?" he whispered hoarsely, with a slightly amused expression. "I got side-tracked," she retorted. "I forgot which 'Mom' you would run to." She snuggled close to him and wrapped his shoulders in her arms. "And you took the car!" He grunted in surprise. It hadn't occurred to him he'd left her stranded. "How did you get here?" "I took a cab into town and borrowed a car from the local FBI field office. Had to get Skinner to call and threaten them, told them I was on a drug bust and my partner was away following a lead." "Well done." He held her close, trying to find the words. "Mulder? Do we need to talk?" "No. But I need to apologize," he said firmly. "God, Dana, sweetheart, I don't know what came over me! I mean, I would never....you've got to know that I'd never, ever...." She cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Shhhhh. You know by now that I trust you, Fox Mulder. I know it's hard on you. You didn't want to run off and get 'laid', Fox. You just sort of wish, well, maybe that you could have a little of your old life back. I remember when Bill's wife Karen was pregnant the first time. She used to pull all of her really slinky dresses out of the closet, lay them out on her bed, and cry. She thought she'd never fit in them again. She thought she'd be huge forever. I think you're just having some of those same kinds of feelings. Only for you, well, you've still got a nice dose of testosterone swimming around in your veins, so there's no way to tell exactly *how* that might be affecting your emotions." She kissed him gently on the nose and he moved his head so that he connected with her mouth. The next kiss was anything but gentle. It was hungry. Dana let herself get caught up in the kiss. It was like it had been at Christmas and New Year, back when making love was even possible between them. She rolled over and he leaned down on her, his hands moving all over her body and it felt so good and right and then...a swift kick from his stomach and all activity ground to an immediate halt. Dana started to giggle at the 'little intrusion', until she looked into her husband's face. He had gone sheet white and his expression was one of tremendous pain. Slowly, he rolled off her and back on his side, but he curled up hugging his stomach with an agonized moan. "Fox? Fox! What is it? What's the matter?" she demanded, all but leaping over him so she could see his face. She landed on the floor next to the bed, kneeling down so that she could see him better. In the short seconds that had elapsed, Mulder's face was covered with a fine layer of sweat. His eyes were clenched shut against the pain and he was breathing in shallow gasps. "Hurts....Scully.... please..." he begged. In a instant, Dana was on her feet, running into the hallway. "MOM! Mom, get the phone up here fast!" she shouted down to the kitchen and then ran back to Mulder's side. He was panting now, not really able to get any air into his lungs. She was afraid he was going to pass out at any moment. "Dana, what's the matter?" Maggie asked as she skidded to a stop at the bedroom doorway. A quick look at the bed and she tossed Dana the cordless phone, then ran over to take her daughter's place next to her stricken son-in-law. "Fox, honey, can you hear me? It's Mom, sweetheart." Over her words of comfort, Maggie could hear Dana talking to Dr. Robert. "Dana's talking to the doctor, now, Fox. Just hang in there. We're all here to help you, sweetheart, you know that." Dana moved her mother aside and grabbed at Mulder's throat, staring at her watch and counting the beats of his heart. "120 plus, Doctor. Breathing labored. Pain in the lower quadrants, both of them, from the looks of it." She was silent for a moment. "No, I have no idea." She squatted down to be on the same level as Mulder. "Fox, have you passed any blood? Please, love, it's very, very important." He slitted his eyes open and shook his head in a jerky no. "No, Doctor, not yet. This is too early, my god, what are we going to do?" She moved into the hallway to finish making arrangements to have Mulder moved to somewhere with medical facilities. Maggie looked down at her son-in-law and let the tears slide down her cheeks. She loved this young man, almost as much as if she had given birth to him herself. And suddenly, this little 'adventure' didn't seem quite so funny. Dana touched her mother's shoulder gently to get her attention. "Mom, Dr. Robert thinks we should take Fox to Bethesda Naval Hospital. He can get his team together quickly and they can use the security level to keep privacy intact." There were tears in Dana's eyes, but Maggie could tell how much her daughter was struggling to remain calm. "I'm sorry, Mom. You can't come with us. The best I can do is ask you to wait by the phone so I can call you when we know something." "You know I will, baby. I'll be right here waiting," Maggie said and gave her daughter a hug. "You just take care of Fox, and don't worry. I have a feeling everything will work out just fine." Dana nodded and then hurried back to sit with her husband. In a matter of minutes, three paramedics had Mulder loaded in the ambulance. Margaret could only stand in the doorway to her home and continue to pray. Mulder was in pain and it was driving Dana crazy. She was pushed into a corner of the ambulance, the paramedic riding in the back was closest to Mulder. He had attached a blood pressure cuff and was taking a reading. "Ma'am, what's the nature of the problem," the young man asked, not taking his eyes off the B/P monitor as he spoke. He looked at her when the silence lasted too long to be easily explained. "Ma'am?" "How much did Dr. Robert tell you?" Dana asked quietly, glancing up to the front of the ambulance and noting that the other two paramedics seemed too preoccupied to be listening. "I know this is an unusual case. I don't know all the details," the young man answered honestly. "But at the moment, he's losing pressure fast and I should probably be looking for internal bleeding. Now if you could give me some help here, I think it will help him a lot. Doc said you're a MD, too, or was he wrong?" "No, he was right," Dana answered. She chewed on her lip, all the while watching the contortions of Mulder's body. He looked like an extremely overweight man who was undergoing a bad case of indigestion, but that diagnosis could cost him, and their baby, their lives. In order to help them, she needed to enlist the aid of this young man. "What's your name?" she asked. "Pharmacist's mate Alan Redmond, ma'am," he said and she could almost hear the salute that he would have given her, had his hands not been otherwise occupied keeping Fox alive. "Well, Redmond, what I'm going to tell you is probably going to make you question my sanity, but before this ride is through, I'm certain you'll question your own," Dana said and then quickly explained her husband's condition and why the symptoms were so life threatening. Redmond wasted no time and dug through the equipment box, finally pulling out what Dana recognized as a fetal monitor belt. "Let's see how the little fella's taking all this," Redmond said, fastening the belt around Mulder's middle and attaching it to the box above the gurney. To his credit, the young man asked no questions that weren't related to the current crisis. Dana noted that all three men must have been hand picked by Dr. Robert. The fetal monitor showed the baby's heartbeat at 75 beats per minute, far too slow for seven months gestation. Dana held her breath. The thought crossed her mind that she might lose the baby, or Fox, or both. Her chest constricted as she held back a sob. It would do absolutely no good to anyone if she lost control now. It had been a while since her three month stint in maternity in medical school, but she had been 'boning up' on the literature lately. She pulled down the professional calm that she often used during emergencies and ordered an IV with blood substitutes and medications to increase the blood pressure in both Mulder and the baby. Then she sat back and prayed she'd done the right thing. ***** Bethesda Navel Hospital. May 17th 1997. 1:40 pm. Dr. Robert was waiting at the ER entrance and led the gurney through the maze of hallways to a set of double doors marked 'Level 3 Quarantine'. Before she could enter, Dana had to scrub and gown. "You aren't going to take the baby now, are you?" she asked as soon as she joined Dr. Robert. He was doing a sonogram on the baby and was making some calculations on a small laptop nearby. "I sure don't want to. Look, Dana," he said, pointing to a vein that was feeding blood to the area of the intestine that was serving as a makeshift placenta. "Right there. I think that might be our bleeder." He looked grimly at the picture on the screen and shook his head. "Leslie," he said to a nurse standing nearby that Dana hadn't noticed. "Tell the guys to get ready. I think we can stop the bleeding without taking the baby. It's only about 4 lbs right now and the lungs are nowhere near ready," he added for Dana's benefit. He turned back to the nurse before she left. "And get Mrs. 'Taylor' a place where she can stretch out. This may take a while." **** Bethesda Naval Hospital. May 17th 1997. 6:00 pm. Dana had paced the hallways so long that the wax on the floor was losing its gloss. Leslie had been by every half hour to let her know how things were progressing. Fox was under general anesthesia. They were repairing the vein using a tiny incision and a specially designed laser, but it was still time consuming because they were having to keep the blood flow to the baby at a constant level. Dana understood all of it, the procedure, the precautions, but it didn't stop her from being anxious and frightened. Her stomach grumbled loudly and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since lunch on Friday. It was now dinner time on Saturday. She was near some vending machines, so she dug through her purse to find her wallet and get a sandwich from the machines. That accomplished, she put her wallet back in her purse and her hand caught on a small object that she had tucked in there. A small silver rattle. Fox had ordered it from one of those home shopper networks. It was a small thing, but he saw it and wanted to buy it for the baby. It had come in the mail as she was going out the door to shop for groceries and she had stuck it in her purse so as not to lose it. Now, it lay in her hand, catching the overhead florescent lights and shining with a brilliance she hadn't thought possible. The little rattle, such a simple thing. Usually played with and discarded early in childhood. One day it would invoke memories. To Dana, right then, it gave her hope. "Dana." She looked up to see Dr. Robert. He was still wearing surgical scrubs, but he had taken the cap off and his graying hair was mussed from the experience. He looked tired, but happy as he pulled up a chair next to her. "It's over. Baby and Fox are doing fine, just fine. We were able to stop the bleeding and not compromise the, well, I hate to call it 'intestine' but that's what it is. I don't expect any more problems until delivery, provided Fox follows orders." He gave her a serious look. "I want him completely off his feet, Dana. This was a close call. The synthetic hormones that are slowly releasing in his system are at open warfare with his own male hormones. It's confusing the hell out of his immune system, trying to figure out which is the 'invader'. They suppressed his immune response, but now that the baby is getting bigger, well it's a big mess. But we need time. The baby needs at least four more weeks to let the lungs develop fully." Dana sat there for a moment in shocked silence. "No wonder he's been such a bastard lately," she murmured, then blushed when she realized the doctor heard every word. "I mean, he's been so.....emotional," she hastened to correct herself. "No, you were probably right the first time," Dr. Robert laughed. "Think of it, Dana. He's having all the emotions attributed to pregnancy AND all the emotions of an expectant father. It's a wonder the poor guy isn't suffering from multiple personality disorder." Dana nodded glumly. "Can I see him? Is he awake?" "Just barely. Go on in. I want to keep him here tonight. Then, tomorrow, we'll make arrangements to chopper him up to the safe house. There's too much traffic, even on the quarantine floor, for me to want to keep him here for long. Besides, he'll be more comfortable at home." Dr. Robert pulled her to her feet and gave Dana a quick hug. "This, too, will pass, my dear. In sixteen years, when he's sitting up at half past midnight, ready to call out the Bureau to find his wayward child, I'm sure he won't even remember this." Dana laughed softly at the thought of Mulder, with a shotgun over his lap, waiting for their son or daughter to walk through the living room door. she moaned silently. That thought, too, made her chuckle. she added silently. ***** 6:15 pm Dana pushed the door open and stepped into the private room. Since he really wasn't in quarantine, it wasn't necessary to wear protective clothing around him, so she was just wearing the gown and not the mask. Mulder was laying on his side, toward her, his eyes closed, but not clenched in pain any longer. He blinked his eyes open when he heard her footsteps on the tile floor. "Hey there," he said hoarsely. "Hey, yourself," she returned and took his hand up to her mouth to place a soft kiss on his palm. "You really like to stop my heart, don't you?" "Ah, c'mon, Dana. This was nothing. Not a mutant or MIB in sight. What was there to be scared of?" he asked, shifting slightly so he could look at her more closely. She wondered if she'd been fair to him, encouraging him to go through with this. Much as she loved him and their child, some days she wished he hadn't had to go through all this, even if it meant they'd never admitted to each other how they felt. Then she looked at him. He had wrapped a hand protectively around his stomach, and was smiling down at it. Then he raised his eyes to hers, and she saw her own feelings for him and their child reflected back at her, as he took her hand and placed it on top of his stomach, resting his own hand atop hers. "We're all still here, Dana," he whispered, as he gripped her hand and closed his eyes. She brought his hand up to her lips and placed a kiss there again. As relieved tears slipped down her face, she sat next to him on the bed and watched him drift off to sleep. Part Twenty One. The Voice Of Doom. Offices of the Lone Gunmen. May 24th 1997. 3:30 pm Byers listened intently to the voice on the phone, nodding grimly. "Zeke, I don't know what to say," he said at last, a tone of defensiveness in his own voice. "I thought Frohike e-mailed that to you last week. He told me he had the article finished." Byers switched the phone to his other ear and listened some more, then shifted some papers on his desk. "What?" he asked suddenly. "Nothing from Langly, either? I don't believe this! We have to mail this sucker _out_ in two days, how the hell do they expect to get it printed if they haven't given you the articles?! No, I know you can't answer that, Zeke, it was a rhetorical question. No, rhetorical, not historical it means....ah hell, it doesn't matter what it means, I've got two necks to wring. I'll talk to you in an hour. Yeah, bye." He hung up the phone and fumed. "Frohike!" Byers yelled at the top of his voice. That alone should have alerted the little man to trouble. Byers was the 'official' publisher of the magazine that barely paid for their conspiracy addictions and seldom had to invoke his power. Usually, he just nodded mildly when his two cohorts came to him with their outrageous ideas for various articles. They did all the work, did all the research and wrote the articles. He read them over, toned down or punched up as needed and that was the end of it. Lately, he had been tied up doing a series of articles on a nerve gas dump in Western Oregon and he hadn't even bothered to edit their stories, relying on them to do it themselves. But the one demand was that all articles reach the printer 48 hours before the magazine was due to print. 48 hours was two hours ago and the printer was now informing him that the June issue was about to be printed with all blank pages. A second "Frohike!" failed to produce the required result. Byers got up from his chair and went over to the other side of the office to find the small 'technogeek' that he called his friend. "FROHIKE!" he yelled again. Finally, a semi-balding head peeked over a computer terminal. "Yo," the little gnome replied. "Something wrong?" he asked innocently. "Damn straight something's wrong! That was Zeke, the printer. He doesn't have your article. Or Langly's for that matter. Where is he, by the way and what the hell is going on here!? We do have a magazine to run, you know!" Frohike blinked. He'd never seen his friend this angry before. Well, once, but then how was Frohike to know that the woman he was stalking was Byers' sister? And besides, that incident was long forgotten and she hadn't even bothered to press charges. "What's the problem?" Frohike asked again. "It's the 24th, that's the problem," Byers explained, trying to regain his composure. "The 24th. Deadline. You know. The magazine. If Zeke doesn't get your article and the one Langly was working on, we'll have a two page magazine this month and I doubt our subscribers will find that very funny." "Oh," the little man said sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I sort of lost track of time. Gimme a couple of hours and I'll have that article, I promise," he said and quickly went back to his computer, signing off as fast as he could and pulling up the word processing program. Byers stood over him and watched him work for a minute before shaking his head and going off to look for the other 'prodigal' writer. He found him in the next room. "Damn it," Langly exclaimed, twisting the joystick in his hands and grimacing almost as if it was a physical battle, rather than just a cyber one. "Shit, when did you get this good?" he demanded of some unknown opponent. He sighed and let out a breath in frustration as the death's head grinned at him from the screen. "That makes it four in a row," he said with sorrow. "Langly! Where is that article on crop circles near the Illinois Statehouse?" Byers asked impatiently. He could tell his friend had been 'gold bricking' again, playing computer games instead of working. Langly looked up, surprised. "Is it the 24th already?" he asked in shock. Byers made a great show of pointing out the date on the computer screen. Langly grimaced again. "Shit. Sorry, Byers. I've got it all finished, really. It's all up here, in my head. I just need....." "A couple of hours, yeah, I've heard it already," Byers said with disgust. "Look, Langly, I need that article. I want it done, and done now. OK?" "You got it, chief," Langly said with a mock salute and turned on the word processing program to begin the article. The office settled into silence once again. Byers sat down and remembered that he still had his editorial notes to compile. It was the last article for the magazine and he usually did it after he had read the other articles, so that he could mention them in it, a sort of 'promo' of the issue. Since the articles were still in the writing phase, he had to do something different. He'd seen an interesting questionnaire that might just fit on the page, something about a popular television show and how you could tell how paranoid you were on a one to ten scale. He went on-line to find the site so he could download it. His mail icon was blinking. He had new mail. he thought. Two hours later, Frohike finished the last of his article. Langly had his done only five minutes later. They faxed them both to Zeke and relaxed. Their part was done, they could go back to what they had been doing. Not ten minutes elapsed when the phone rang. Langly jumped to answer it. "Lone Gunman," he said and turned on the tape. "Oh, hi, Zeke. Did you get the crop circle stuff? Yeah, and Frohike's article? Great. So what's the problem? No kidding. No, I had no idea. Yeah, I'll make sure he gets it to you. Thanks, Zeke. Later." Langly crossed the room and whispered something to Frohike, and they both went and stood grinning behind their well dressed associate. He was engrossed in the tug of wills taking place on the computer screen in front of him. Frohike shook his head in amusement and picked up the phone, while Langly watched Byers who was still completely oblivious to their actions. Frohike put the phone between himself and Langly so that both of them could hear the conversation. Finally, someone picked up on the other end. "Agent Scully. Please go unplug the computer in Mulder's room. Tell him Byers can't play anymore, he has to do his homework," Frohike said with a wink to Langly. "And Dana....this baby can't come *too* soon. At this rate, we probably won't have a July issue, either." Dana walked into the bedroom and regarded her husband. He was sitting up in bed, his 'doctor imposed prison' as he referred to it, with his laptop perched precariously on his stomach. He looked up as she entered and turned his head to accept the kiss she placed on his cheek. "Who was that on the phone?" he asked, still engrossed in the game on the computer screen. "Langly and Frohike. You've been shut down, my love. They have to get the magazine out and it seems that you are causing some delays," she said with a wry grin. He looked down at the screen as it went blank and frowned. "Damn it. And I was winning," he whined. Dana sat on the end of the bed. "Hey, I thought you were going to do some research into your Satanic cult thesis. You are so close to your doctorate, Fox. You should take this time to finish it. Then you wouldn't feel like sitting in bed is such a waste," she pointed out with a helpful tone to her voice. "Yeah, you're right. I should do that," he sighed with resignation. "I'll be fine, sweetheart. Really. I'm just a little bored, that's all." He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. "Go on back to what you were doing. I'll be fine, you don't have to entertain me," he said with a grin. She ruffled his hair, placed a kiss on top of the tousled mass and left the room to go back to her own work. "Now," he said to the walls when he was sure that his wife was out of earshot. "I wonder if Skinner is on-line?" Part Twenty Two. The Stork Only Rings Once. The safe house. June 24th 1997. 5:20 pm. Pace. Pace. Pace. Dana Scully reached the far wall of the living room, and turned to cross the room again. Six paces one way. Turn. Six paces the other way. Turn. In the doorway, Maggie hid her smile as she waited for the kettle to boil. "Dana, if you don't stop that, you're going to make yourself dizzy," her mother warned. "But where *is* he?" Dana growled as she turned the corner and came back across the floor. Dr Robert had called that morning, having received the results of the bloodwork and ultrasounds he'd performed two days before, and announced it was time to "get this show on the road". Fox had calmly accepted the fact, and had gone back to playing computer games with Byers over the internet, but Dana had been unable to hide her nerves, and an exasperated Fox had finally asked Maggie to take his wife downstairs and stop her hovering. Now she watched as Dana, the normally cool and composed doctor, tried to deal with a situation she felt no control over. "I just can't work out what's taking them so long!" Dana spun on her heel, and faced her mother. She knew she should be happy. But in all honesty, she was scared out of her mind. For the past two days she had been reading every OB posting on the internet, when she could get Mulder off the modem from one of his nightly games of Doom III. She had watched vid clips of C-sections, she had read all the possible complications and their treatment. She felt like she could probably perform the surgery in her sleep. But she wasn't going to be the one doing it. Dr. Robert had brought up the whole team that last time he'd come, and Fox and Dana had met most of them briefly when Fox had experienced the complications that required him to be bedridden. They all seemed extremely competent and caring. And she didn't know any of them from Adam. What if one of them was working for the consortium? It was a fear that she had never raised with either her husband or the Assistant Director. What if this was all a plot to kill him, in a truly vile manner? It would be so easy. A slip of the knife and a punctured artery that would result in rapid blood loss. They were performing the surgery in the middle of their spare bedroom, for God's sakes! It wasn't like they had a blood bank nearby. If he started bleeding, it would be minutes before the helicopter could get them out and on the way to Bethesda Naval again. And by that time, she could lose him. Both of them, she reminded herself. Both of them - Fox and the baby. They had tried to hold back on decorating the nursery at the safe house. After all, this wasn't their home. A simple bassinet and a changing table would have to suffice for the time being. Dana knew that her mother had taken care of preparing a beautiful nursery at her apartment back in DC, all in bright primary colors. Dana had ordered most of the furnishings out of catalogs and off the internet. She couldn't wait to see it. She could hardly wait to use it all. But all of that planning could come to only heartbreak if something were to happen now. How could they assume that this would all come out all right? It was all preposterous from the outset. Mulder was a man. He was pregnant. What if the 'back up systems' that had been created inside Mulder weren't enough to provide all the nourishment the baby needed? What if problems arose later in life? What if....? She'd tried not to show her worries to Mulder. Though she didn't know why she'd bothered. He'd sat there, smug and unconcerned, while she'd fretted and paced, and tried to control herself, and not show him how she felt. Her mind went back to the conversation of a few minutes ago.... "Mulder? You OK?" she'd asked. He'd nodded, and raised an eyebrow at her pacing. "The Bureau will charge us for a new carpet if you wear a hole in that one," he'd commented. "Damn, Byers, you've been practicing," he muttered and shifted a few keys on his keyboard. "But I've got you now," he said gleefully, and pounced on the keys with a fury. "Yes! Gotcha, sucker!" "I don't think it's a good idea for you to get so excited," she'd warned in a low voice. "What excited? I'm just playing a game. For God's sakes, Scully, will you calm down? I mean, you shot me once and you didn't get this upset about it," he'd pointed out, still not looking up at her. "I thought we agreed not to mention that little incident," she said icily. "And I thought we agreed that we were adults and weren't going to go off the deep end when the stork came, too," he shot back with a triumphant grin. "Guess you forgot that part, huh?" "I am not going off the deep end," she countered. "I'm just..concerned." "Well stop being concerned. There's nothing to be concerned about." He'd grinned, and she'd lost it. She had to wipe that smug grin off his face. "Let's see how cheerful you are when they hook up the IV," she'd snapped, and immediately felt guilty. Mulder however just stuck his tongue out at her, as Maggie cautiously poked her head into the room. "Great!" Mulder said, brightening as he saw his mother-in-law. "Look, Mom, will you take Dana downstairs please? She's driving me mad." Dana had given him a look that made it very clear that if he hadn't been pregnant, he'd have been wearing his teeth as a necklace. Maggie had gently taken her daughter's arm, and to her surprise Dana hadn't resisted. Fox had nodded to them to go, saying he'd call if he needed them. Now she was at a loss to know what to do. "The kettle's boiled." Maggie's voice cut into her thoughts. "Come into the kitchen and help me." Dana dragged her mind away from Mulder and tried to pay attention to what her mother was doing. "Mom, we don't use boiling water in births anymore. Not now." "We do when we are making the father a glass of iced tea," said Maggie firmly. "I think brewed iced tea is so much better than sun tea. It's stronger." She lead Dana into the kitchen, and poured the hot tea over the ice in the metal pitcher, listening to the crackling sound with a smile. Then she poured the warm tea in a glass filled with ice, and pressed the glass into Dana's hands. "Dana, I know. You're worried. But drink this, and stop pacing. It'll be fine." Dana looked at her mother in anguish. "How can he be so calm? We talked about this, he knows what to expect. They'll hook him up to an IV, stick a catheter in him...then there's the epidural. What if they screw up? He *insisted* on the epidural, rather than the general!" Her mother nodded. "Well, he wants to be awake for the birth." "But he won't even be able to see anything much! Not that he'd want to see anyway, once they start poking around," Dana grumbled. "And he won't be able to move his legs for twelve hours! Do you have any idea how he's going to be, with tubes sticking out of him, unable to move?" Maggie grinned. "Insufferable I expect." "And they'll have to cut right across his stomach..." Dana's voice trailed off as Maggie hugged her. "I know. I've had Caesareans, remember?" Dana opened her mouth to reply, when the doorbell rang. Maggie stepped back as her daughter flew to the door, to admit Dr Robert and his team. Maggie went into the living room, while Dana ushered them upstairs, returning briefly to hug her mother again. "It looks like this is it. You're sure you're OK, waiting down here?" Maggie nodded. "There are too many people fussing up there as it is. I'll be fine. I'll get the phone if it rings, and I'll watch a movie. It'll keep my mind occupied. Tell Fox good luck." "Tell him yourself," Dana said quietly, and caught her mother's eye. Together, they followed the medical team upstairs. "So, Fox are you nervous?" Dr. Robert asked as he started setting out the instruments they would use to administer the epidural. "I wasn't until Dana started telling me bedtime stories about deliveries," he groused. "That settles it. I'm the one who puts the baby to bed," he shot at her over the doctor's shoulder. "Dana, are you OK?" Dr. Robert asked as he saw her nervously wringing her hands. "Fine, just fine," she said, not very convincingly. "Marc, are you sure you don't want to do this with a general? I mean, so much can go wrong with an epi," Dana said, as her gaze fell on the needle that would carry the medicine into her husband's spine. "Dana, relax. Epis are the only way to go with a C-section. No worries about respiration, no fear that the baby gets too much of the anesthetic - I wouldn't do a C-section under a general now if you held me at gunpoint," he said with a laugh. "Don't give her any ideas, Doc," Mulder muttered just loud enough for Dana to hear. She shot him a vicious look and he quieted immediately. Dr Robert cleared his throat and looked queryingly at Maggie, unsure whether she was staying or not. "We'll be doing the Caesarean now." Mulder and Scully looked at one another. "It'll be OK love. I'll be here holding your hand. It won't take long. And we'll have a beautiful baby afterwards, thanks to you." Maggie crossed the room and kissed Fox on the forehead. "I'm going to wait downstairs Fox. This room's crowded enough without me as well. Take care, OK?" He nodded, and Maggie could see the nervousness behind his eyes. . "Sure. Thanks Mom." Maggie patted her daughter reassuringly, and left the room. Dana put her hand softly on Mulder's shoulder, and he leaned in against her hand, both silently apologising to the other. Dr Robert smiled. "OK, Mulder, here's what's going to happen. Dave here is going to administer the epidural. It's like an IV...." "In my spine," Mulder said with a gulp. "Well, yes, generally speaking. But believe me, it's a safe procedure and Dave has done thousands of them," Dr. Robert assured him. "On a guy?" Mulder shot back, eyeing the needle with a great deal more trepidation than he had earlier. "Actually, yes. We use epis for all sorts of surgeries these days. OB is the most common place to find them, but we use it in orthopedics, too," Dave answered. "Just relax. Now, let's get you laying on your side. Dana, why don't you come over here and provide something nice for him to look at," Dave said with a smile. When he had Mulder on his side he moved the hospital gown aside and spread something cold on his back. "That's just betadine. Cleaning up here a little," Dave said, chatting merrily. Mulder reached out and grasped Dana's hand. He smiled up at her and gave her a wink. "Ready to be a mom?" he asked softly. She nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "You ready to be a dad?" she asked him. "Never more ready," he assured her. "Just a little stick," Dave announced and Mulder flinched at the pain. "Hold still for me. That's good, that's good. Arch your back a little more, Mulder. Good, terrific. OK, a little pressure here," Dave kept up a running dialog as he administered the medication. Dana felt Fox's hand clench hers and saw his eyes slam shut against the pressure. "Are you all right?" she whispered in his ear. His nod was almost imperceptible. "OK, all done," Dave said triumphantly. "Great job, Mulder! Here, let me tape this down and then you can sit up and relax a little while we get the operating theatre set up. You guys got names picked out?" "Well, we know it's NOT going to be Fox," Mulder said with a grin as he adjusted in the bed. "Gee, only 49,999 more to eliminate," Dave said with a laugh. "Better get to work on that. We'll need it for the birth certificate." "We're waiting to see what sex the baby is," Dana explained with a smile. "Oh, yeah, I remember. You guys still don't know the sex. You could have found out months ago, you know." "We like finding out the old-fashioned way," Mulder said. "That's the ONLY thing 'old-fashioned' about this birth," Dave laughed and patted Mulder's shoulder. "You two just try to ignore us while we make a mess of things," he said and went over to help Dr. Robert and the rest of the team. The team became a flurry of activity. In short order, Dana was gowned, Mulder was draped, and all the members of the team had gone to their assigned spots, checking instruments and medications. A blood pressure cuff had been slipped up onto Mulder's arm, as well as an external fetal monitor. "We're going to put this right around your neck here," the doctor who had been introduced as Nate said as he slipped an oxygen mask over Mulder's head. "If you get dizzy or feel a little faint, just tell me and I'll put it up where you can use it. We'll probably have it up there during surgery." In minutes, Mulder's right arm was secured on a board. A second IV line was added to the first and he saw the pump next to his head. "What's that for?" he asked. "We're gonna give you a little extra something to relax. It's in addition to the epi. Not to worry, OK? You won't feel a thing," Dave said. "Marc, B/P's dropping," a young woman who Marc had called Beth said in a sotto voce. "Well, I knew this was going too well," Marc said in mild disgust. "OK, put the O2 up. Dave, you got a handle on this?" Nate moved the mask onto Mulder's face, covering his mouth and nose. Dave was injecting a syringe into the IV line. "Under control, Marc. Mulder, you might feel a little woozy here, but it's nothing to worry about, OK? It's just medicine to get your pressure up. Just keep breathing normally and everything will be fine." "Marc?" Dana asked anxiously over her surgical mask. "It's OK, Dana. This happens sometimes. We'll get the pressure up before we proceed. Hey, I thought you guys couldn't be scared," he teased. "That's what Walt Skinner told me." "Sewer mutants, morphing aliens, homicidal twins and green blood filled with retroviruses don't bother us," Mulder quipped from beneath the mask. "It's just natural stuff like giving birth that sends us into heebie jeebies," he said and winked at Dana again. This time she smiled back, even though he could only see her eyes. She reached over from her spot close to his head on the left and squeezed his hand. He wouldn't let it go. "Pressure's stablized, Marc. All systems GO," Dave joked and the rest of the team all smiled in unison. "OK, folks, let's make history," Dr Robert said calmly and moved the knife into position to make the first incision. It all happened so quickly that no one had much chance to comment. A long incision across Mulder's stomach, then moving aside some internal organs, another incision and Dr Robert was lifting their baby out of the sac. "Congratulations. You have a lovely little girl." The two agents just stared at the perfect miracle that was their daughter. Eventually Dana was coherent enough to speak. "Is she OK? I mean....she looks fine to me, but I'm not a paediatrician...." "She's normal and healthy. Here. You two get to know her while I stitch up after her." He passed the baby up towards them and carried on. Scully found her voice again. "It's a girl," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "A baby girl. We have a baby girl, Fox. Oh, look at her, she has your hair." The baby, once Beth had wiped her off a little, did indeed have a shock of dark hair. But her eyes were her mother's. Mulder fumbled with the O2 mask so that he could get a better look. "She has your eyes. And look, she's got your nose, thank God," he said with a shaky laugh. The team broke into chuckles with them. Dr Robert straightened up and tossed something into a basin. "And there goes the birth sac and the implant that was releasing the hormones. It's all normal in there again, Fox." He grinned. "No more excuses for being grouchy!" As Marc closed the incision and the neonate specialist Tom fussed over the baby, no one noticed that Nate slipped quietly from the room. Abruptly Dana gasped. "What is it?" asked Mulder, panicked. "Mom! I forgot Mom!" Dana rushed downstairs, not noticing Nate who had sneaked past the closed living room door and exited from the kitchen. "Mom! Mom!" Maggie was in the hallway a moment later. "What? What is it? Dana's face broke into one of the biggest smiles Maggie had ever seen. "You have a granddaughter!" ***** The safe house. June 25th 1997. 2:00 pm. The day before had been a busy day, though Mulder and the baby had slept through it. Dr. Robert and Tom had been in early in the morning and declared both baby and father to be doing just fine. The room was clean, Maggie had briefly been in to play with her granddaughter, and now the baby lay in Mulder's arms, squinting at her father while her mother and grandmother were calling everyone they couldn't reach the day before with the news. He crooned to her, making up words and music in a song that came straight from his heart, as Dana walked in. She smiled, watching as Mulder reached for a small soft toy the Gunmen had given them, squeezing it to make it squeak as their daughter looked up. Dana made a mental note to check it for listening devices. "Mulder?" "Yes?" Mulder was busy playing with his little daughter. "You know Scully, she looks like you. What'll we call her?" Scully smiled. "We'll figure something out. Look, while you were talking to the doctor, Skinner called." Mulder's face darkened. "What did he want? You look worried." "It's just that..well, he thinks it would be easier all around if we just told everyone that we conceived this child in a normal way, and that we filled out the paperwork saying that I am its mother and you its father." "He just wants to deny it all, huh?" "Mulder, he has a point. Imagine how she'll feel being pointed out as a freak. We'd get no peace." He thought it over. "You're right. It would be hell. But when she's older...especially if we have children the normal way and you give birth to her little brother or sister some day....can we tell her then?" Dana smiled. "OK. Now get some rest." She crossed to the bed and kissed her weary husband. "Mulder, you've had a long pregnancy, and a difficult birth. You'll be just fine, but you need to sleep. I'll bring you some food first, and we can bottle feed our baby at the same time." "I guess I can't claim to be eating for two anymore huh? Can I at least have some decent junk food now, instead of all that healthy stuff?" She smiled. "After the gift you just gave me, you can have whatever you want." She drew him and their child into the first of many embraces. Mulder snuggled up against her, as she reached down to stroke the baby's face. "Had any ideas for the name?" she asked. He shook his head. "Not unless you'll let me call her Dana." "Might get confusing. But thanks. You're right though, she does look like me a bit." Mulder looked up at her. "Who do *you* look like, Scully? You don't resemble your mother much." She laughed. "No, I look like the Scullys. Like my father's family. They're the blue-eyed redheads. And I've seen pictures of my grandmother at my age, my Dad's mother. I look a little like her, too." "She's still alive isn't she? Your Mom has mentioned her." Dana nodded. "Yes, though she's very frail. She lives in California. I'd like us to take a trip out there sometime soon, if that's OK with you. Grandma Sarah won't forgive us if we don't introduce the newest Scully to her." She paused, and looked at Mulder, seeing her idea occur to him as well. "Sarah?" she asked, a little unsure. "Sarah Dana," he replied. "After her mother, and her great grandmother. Unless.....reckon we should add a Margaret in there too?" "Don't you dare." Maggie had come into the room, unseen. "I like my name, but Sarah Dana is quite enough for her to cope with." She grinned at them. "Grandma Sarah will be thrilled. Thanks." "Then that's settled," Mulder said happily. Dana nodded, and got up. "I'll get you and Sarah some food then." "You will do no such thing Dana," Maggie's voice was firm. "I will fetch a meal for Fox, a good unhealthy meal at that. Burger and fries?" She saw his eyes gleam in anticipation. "And some sunflower seeds. I brought a big bag with me. I'll bring you something too Dana, you look half starved. And I'll fetch Sarah's bottle. *You* will stay right here, with your husband and child, and relax." She swept out of the room. Mulder grinned as Scully watched her mother leave. "That told me, huh?" "Yep. But mothers have this way of being right. And now Sarah and I would appreciate it if her mother, and my wife, climbed onto this bed and relaxed along with us." Scully smiled and obeyed, as Mulder with his daughter snuggled in the crook of his arm leant back against her, the three of them a family. Inherently Given's Epilogue: And There Is A Love. J. Edgar Hoover Building. FBI Headquarters. April 18, 1999. 10:15 am Fox Mulder put down the file folder that he had been straining to read and glared at the phone. In complete defiance to his mental commands, the phone refused to ring. He glared at it even harder and contemplated picking it up and banging it against the desktop again to see if it was working. It hadn't worked the last time he did that, but it sure made him feel better. He was worried. And with good cause. His partner of several years, wife of two and a half, was late. Very late. Late for work, although part of that was his fault. He had gotten up at the usual hour, taken his run, gotten little Sarah up for her breakfast and purposefully let Dana sleep. She'd been so tired lately. He knew it was probably nothing. He was tired, too. They had just come off a horrendous case that had taken them out of town for the better part of a whole week. Both of them had spent at least a good part of each evening pining for their tiny daughter. Talking to her on the phone, held lovingly by Grandma to her little shell ear, and listening to her chatter at them had helped a bit. But inevitably, it had also led to the tears that came in the middle of the night. "Damn it, I gotta stop that. Scully's gonna think I'm losing it, the way I cry all the time when we're not at home," he berated himself once again. But after the tears, came the comfort. And that _always_ brought a smile to his face. His wife was the best 'comfort' he'd ever had. Since they had been out of town almost ever other week lately, they'd had plenty of time to 'comfort' each other. His mind flew back to the time, almost three years ago, when his wife had been not only his comfort, but his stalwart. His rock to lean on. Being pregnant had been exciting, and looking back with the insulation of time, it had been wonderful. But he could never have done it without her. He couldn't imagine not having her, and little Sarah, in his life. His eyes rested for a minute on the picture frame on his desk. It was a double frame, in cherry wood. One side, as always, contained the picture of Samantha that always rested on his desk, wherever he was. The other side contained a more recent photo. Taken professionally at Christmas, it was the three of them. Mulder was sitting to the right, his arm around Scully's waist. Sarah sat in Scully's lap and mugged happily for the cameraman. The look on his face said it all. The once tortured soul had finally found a little peace. They made a very happy family. Not that he had forgotten about his promise to himself to find his sister. That responsibility would never leave him, not until she was in his arms again. In fact, he now had another reason to bring her home. He had a little niece he wanted to introduce to her. And a sister-in-law that already loved her as if she were her own flesh and blood. As he thought of the time that he would finally see his sister again, he heard the door open behind him. He turned and saw his wife walk in with a Mona Lisa smile plastered across her face. "Where've you been? I was starting to get worried," he said, getting up and taking her briefcase, then giving her the once over with his eyes. She still looked tired. And a little pale. She come down with the flu and it just wouldn't leave her. She'd been throwing up for over a week now and it was starting to worry him tremendously. But looking at her now, he had to admit that she didn't look sick. In fact, if anything, she looked....radiant. She smiled as he got her a cup of coffee and put it down on her desk without taking a sip. "I was still throwing up this morning, so I decided I better take your advice before you dragged me to the doctor by my hair." She chuckled at him as he shook his finger at her. "I told you I wanted you to go *last* week," he reminded her. "Yes, and when you wanted me to go, we were in the middle of a case and 1000 miles from home. So I called Carole up and went this morning. I was lucky to get in on such short notice." He frowned at that a moment. Carole was her gynecologist. Mulder had met her once at a party they'd had when they bought their house. he wondered to himself. "So, what is it? An infection? A virus? What?" he asked anxiously. He was worried. If Dana was pushing herself too hard, with caring for Sarah and working full-time, he might have to put his foot down. As division head, he might make her take some time off. And he'd been meaning to ask Skinner for some help. A clerical, at the least, would give them both a break from some of the paperwork they had to file each month. He made a mental note to call Skinner as soon as Dana told him what the doctor said. "It's not an infection. And it's definitely not a virus," she said. That Mona Lisa smile was back. Only this time, the intensity of it was blinding. "Dana, spit it out before I write you up for insubordination AND turn you over my knee. And this time, you won't enjoy it as much as you did in Portland," he warned. "OK, here it is. We can't go to your mother's for Thanksgiving this year." "Dana, it's April. Why are we planning Thanksgiving already?" he asked with exasperation. Then her smile made him suspicious. "Is there a _reason_ we can't go to my Mom's for Thanksgiving?" "Well, Carole doesn't want me traveling that far right then," she said cryptically. "And the reason that you can't travel wouldn't have anything to do with your proximity to a maternity facility, would it?" he said, breaking into a totally goofy smile. She laughed softly. "See, I knew you were a great investigator. Not to mention, incredibly sexy," she said as he enfolded her in his arms and kissed her on the head. "Another one," he murmured into her hair. "We have to get another crib." "And another high chair, although Sarah will probably be using a booster seat by the time this one's able to sit up. She'll be old enough for a youth bed by then too." "We can get one of those double strollers, as well. Sarah would love that." He lifted her chin and kissed her. "Hey," she said in mock seriousness. "I thought that was off limits in the office." "Special occasion. You know I love to break rules." He hugged her tighter. he reminded himself. "So, you're happy?" she asked as she pushed back so she could see his face. The look in his eyes told her everything she wanted to know. Still, she wanted to hear him say it. "I couldn't get happier without massive quantities of drugs involved," he laughed. "And the best part is that this time I get to watch over you instead of the other way around." "And don't forget about the drapes," she reminded him. His mind flew back to the afternoon, sitting in the little bedroom of the safe house. She'd been crying, wanting so much to go through what he was going through. He'd made her a promise then, and it applied to more than just curtains. "Sweetheart, believe me, I haven't forgotten the drapes. I've been counting the days." ***** The Mulder family home. December 2nd 1999. 11:13 am. Fox Mulder cradled his child in his arms, as he carefully sat down and smiled at his wife. Dana smiled back at him. Parenthood, they'd discovered, was both demanding and at times nerve racking, but they wouldn't have missed it for the world. He reached over and smoothed the child's dark hair, placing a kiss on its forehead. His son opened his eyes, regarded his father and promptly fell asleep again. "Another dark haired one," Dana said teasingly. "He looks exactly like you, you know." "Ah, but we got a redhead as well," he laughed, grinning at the twin baby that his wife was holding. Dana laughed with him, shifting in the bed as she breast fed their youngest daughter. She had to agree with him, they seemed to have almost duplicated themselves this time. A dark haired little son with his father's features (she'd had to reassure Fox that it was a *nice* nose), and a redheaded blue-eyed daughter, the image of Dana. Both different in looks from Sarah, all three equally beautiful and precious. A good variety. "How are you feeling now?" her husband asked her. She grimaced again. The home birth had gone well, but she was sore as hell from it. "Sore". He nodded, in genuine sympathy. "At least you can move afterwards. Still, I never knew it took so much time the normal way. Sarah's birth was what, five minutes by Caesarean? I had it easier, at least there." Sarah, hearing her name, looked up from the floor where she was playing with her toys and pulled herself to her feet, holding onto her father's leg. Fox carefully placed his son back in the bassinet, and pulled his elder daughter onto his lap, catching Dana's eye as he did so. The same thought crossed both their minds. "Remember the day Sarah was born?" Fox asked softly. She smiled. "How could I forget it? My Mom downstairs trying to keep calm, Dr. Robert reassuring me, and you acting like a grouch. It was one of the longest and happiest days of my life. Though today equals it." "I was not grouchy," he replied teasingly, in a mock offended tone. "I am *never* grouchy." Dana made a face at him, causing Sarah to giggle. The little girl stirred on her father's lap, wiggling to get a better look at her new brother and sister, and smiling he held her so that she could stroke the new babies' faces. Finally she got bored, and he took her downstairs and left her with her grandmother, who was cooking. "It was quite a day," he agreed when he returned. "Dana, do you remember what we discussed the day after? That if some day we ever had other children, we'd tell her how she was born?" She nodded. "Yes. But she's still too young to understand, let alone keep it a secret." She looked into his face, but he didn't look upset. "But then you didn't mean to tell her now, did you." "No," he agreed. "I just wanted to know if you still felt the same. If you want to.....well, to claim to have given birth to all three of them..." She shifted the now sleeping baby in her arms and placed her in the bassinet next to her twin. Reaching over she took Fox's hand. "Fox, I love all three of our children equally. Sarah's no less special to me than the others, just because I didn't carry her. Are the twins any less important to you?" He shook his head mutely, unsure where the conversation was going. "But the fact remains you have a very special bond to Sarah, and she deserves to know it. One day, Fox, we will tell her, when she's old enough to understand and to keep it quiet. Hell, maybe one day medicine will have advanced to the stage where men often bear children. We know the people who helped create Sarah were working on it, and Dr. Robert has been working on research. Perhaps a time will come when you can tell people the truth and they'll not bat an eyelid. Either way, we *will* tell Sarah." Fox thought of his beloved dark haired little daughter, so sweet a moment before, engrossed with her toys at his feet. "I hope she isn't repulsed by it." "She won't be," Dana reassured him. "At least, I hope not. She ought to be proud of what you did for her, and there's already a bond between you. She's your daughter, Fox. Accepting the strange should come as second nature." "But she's yours as well, Dana" he quipped, unable to resist. "Sceptical Scully's daughter. She's already questioning the existence of Santa Claus, and she plays all the time with that doctor's outfit my mother bought her. You think she'll believe this?" Dana looked smug. "You don't think I kept some proof out of Skinner's hands? I've got documents and notes still carefully hidden. And she *will* believe us, because I, her mother, will tell her that I'm...her father? Mother? I still haven't figured that one." Fox, kissed her. "Both. We're both, to her and the others. So now, there's the big question." "Which is....?" "What the hell are we going to name these two?" The End. Authors' final note: "Inherently Given" was conceived on 9-10th April 1996, and finally completed nine months later on 4th January 1997. Coincidence or X-File? Thank you for reading, and goodnight...... (curtains close).