Book Two of the Dreams Series Ah, gentlefolk, here is the second section of the Mulder-Scully relationship piece I started in 'Every Mother Dreams'. This one goes into more detail about Mulder's parents and his father's relationship to him as a small child. It also deals with how the Bureau is going to deal with this partnership although more of that is in the next part which is still in the writing stage. MSR, rated PG, still might contain third season spoilers. Never been posted anywhere (just for MaryKate's group) OH, and before I forget, yes, you can do a sonogram that early, no you can't do amnio and the results don't come back in the same day- -this is fiction here, people, so don't go running to your OBGYN and demand results, you won't get any! I know! Also, this was written before Apogrypha, so the time lines for William Mulder do not reflect those of the show. How's that for cryptic? :) Disclaimer: Every thing in the X Files universe belongs to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. All the rest belongs to God and I don't intent to infringe on HIS/HER copyright, either! And before I get flamed, the Pandas arrived in the DC Zoo in the 70's, during the Nixon Admin, but I needed them in the 60's so sue me, but rest assured that there's nothing to collect. Send me comments, folks. I want to know how long this should continue. HOMEWARD BOUND By Vickie M. Moseley vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com Boston General Hospital March 23 10:30 am "This is crazy! I am not riding home on a gurney, Scully! I refuse. I'll walk home, first," Fox Mulder was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, still dressed in the traditional too short hospital gown, with a very disgruntled look on his face. "Besides, the insurance people will have a coronary. They already 'red flag' every claim either one of us makes. This will push them right over the edge." "We could always stay a couple of more days, until you have your strength back," Dana Scully countered, her arms crossed firmly across her chest, not giving an inch. He recognized a losing battle when he saw one. So he immediately moved to his fall back position: his 'puppy dog look', as she referred to it. "Dana, please," he pleaded. She sighed heavily. He was exasperating, annoying, childish, and she was deeply and completely in love with him. How did things get so out of hand so quickly? Gathering all the patience she could muster on such short notice and so little sleep, she sat down beside him. "You remember when I came out of my coma, Fox?" she asked quietly. He winced at the sound of his name. He didn't mind her calling him that when they were in the throes of passion. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he actually liked it. When it was broad daylight and he was on the receiving end of a lecture, it was a different matter all together. "Yes, I think I have that particular moment engrained on my memory, thank you, Dana Katherine," he grumbled. "Would _you_ have let me walk out of the hospital and get on a plane to ride for an hour, in my condition?" she asked pointedly. "I was only in a coma for 2 and a half days, Scully. You were missing for 3 months. It doesn't compare, and you know it. I feel fine. I am fine. I want to go home, now. The only thing stopping me from walking out that door is you. I love you. I respect you. I don't want to make you angry. . ." "I have your clothes. . ." she added. "Yes, that too, but it hasn't stopped me before," he glowered at her. "I can walk down the hall and rip off some scrubs from any passing laundry cart," he shot back. This argument was not getting anywhere. It was time to try something new. He took her hand in his and with the other, brushed the auburn hair from her face. "If I stay one more night, and let you get some sleep, can we go home like normal people in the morning?" he asked softly. she thought and allowed herself a wry smile. "I'll consider it. I don't know that the hospital staff here will be all that thrilled," she admitted. "But they can live with it." He reached over and took her into a hug, kissing her softly on the top of her head. "Besides, we have some stuff to talk about, still. You never did answer my questions last night. I don't want to push you, but it's not polite to keep a guy hanging by a thread, you know," he said, kissing the tip of her nose before reaching her lips and kissing her there. She returned his kiss, readily. "Yes, and I'll think about it," she whispered. "Yes, you'll marry me?" he asked, the excitement making his throat very dry suddenly. She smiled shyly. "Yes, I'll marry you. And not just because I'm pregnant, either, Mulder," she added, sternly. "We should have talked about this at Christmas, but. . .well, we were trying to avoid the inevitable at the time. We can't hide this relationship from the Bureau. Somebody is bound to find out. But I won't let them take you away from me, Mulder," she said emphatically. "Not this time, not ever. If I have to marry you to keep an eye on you every second, . . ." tears were tightening her throat to the point where she could barely get the words out. ". . .I should have dragged you to the altar years ago." Her words made his heart soar. He still didn't know what had happened over the last 2 and a half days. Some sudden illness, similar to one he had suffered when he was a child, had left him in a coma. He had finally turned the corner the day before, waking up to find Scully sitting by his bed. Immediately upon waking he remember a snatch of a dream he had. He knew they were having a baby and he knew he couldn't stand the thought of ever losing her, either. So, with the little strength he had, he had proposed. And then fallen asleep before she had a chance to answer. "But that doesn't solve all our problems, you know," she said, straightening up. "We have to tell Skinner," he admitted glumly. "I don't think we have much choice. It's pretty early in the pregnancy, but I'm going to start to show at some point. And besides, we have to consider moving. Neither of our places are big enough for both of us AND a baby." She slid down off the bed and sat down in the recliner by his bed, blowing out a deep breath. "This is a lot of stuff happening at once, isn't it?" he asked, his voice filled with understanding. She smiled up at him. He could read her like a book. She only prayed he'd never get tired of the subject. She nodded, slowly. "Yeah, it is. But it's not all bad. And I must admit, you took the news better than I would have expected." She narrowed her eyes a little, but they still twinkled with amusement. "You weren't planning on this 'little surprise', were you Mulder?" He laughed at her accusation. "I don't think I COULD have planned on it, and you know that." "So how come it was the first words out of your mouth when you woke up yesterday? Or close to your first words," she asked suspiciously. "I told you, you won't believe me when I tell you," he said. "Try me," she replied. "OK, but you asked for it. I talked to Melissa," he said and watched her for her reaction. She bit her lip but said nothing. She had her own 'near death' experiences to draw upon, and it scared her that he had actually been that close to being lost from her. "Melissa told me," he concluded. "Missy told you I was pregnant?" she asked. "What else did she say. . ." "That it's a baby girl and that she'll steal my heart the moment I hold her," he said wistfully. He looked over at his partner again and saw tears in her eyes. "Hey, it's going to be all right," he murmured, moving around so he could capture her hand in his. The tears were falling down her cheeks but she smiled up at him. "I know. I know it will." She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "While you were. . .asleep," she said, the word catching in her throat. "I had a dream. In the dream, you were holding her, our baby girl. And you had such a beautiful expression on your face that I . . ." she stopped and tried not to fall prey to the sobs that were threatening to engulf her. ". . .I knew at that moment that I was seeing the future. Our future. Whatever happens, I know that dream will happen, too. And it really will be all right." He pulled her up onto the bed next to him and held her tight. "I'm sorry I scared you so badly," he murmured into her hair. She balled her hand into a fist and socked him lightly in the shoulder. "There, that's for making me worry," she said lightly. Then she reached up and kissed him on the lips, ever so gently, then pulled away. "And that's my apology for not following your advise and going to a doctor. I've been horrible to live with, Mulder, and I'm really sorry. I was just so tired and the microchip and all. . .I was so scared," she said, biting her lip again to keep the tears away. "Your mom could have told you," he admonished. Scully laughed. "Yeah, she figured it out right off the bat. But how did you know that," she asked. "Or did Missy. . ." "Yup. Melissa spilled her guts, told me that your mom had us figured out long ago, and then told me that I knew about the baby before you knew. So I found out I was a father before you knew you were a mother! Almost makes the whole experience worth it, doesn't it," he asked grinning. She gave him The Look. "Next time, what say I just tell the doctor to call YOU with the results and you can tell me. I think it might be less stressful on all of us that way." He chuckled and gave her another squeeze. "Speaking of your mom, where is she? Did she go back home?" "No, she had something she wanted to do first," Scully said, trying to decide how much she wanted him to know of the last 2 and a half days. "You know your mom was here, don't you?" "Dana! You didn't. . ." "I didn't call her, Mulder, honest! She just showed up. She had dreamed about. . .when you were little and you were sick, or so she said. She called all the hospitals in DC before she realized you had been transferred here back then. She came on her own." Dana stiffened a bit while talking. She couldn't get the last conversation she had with Ann Mulder out of her mind. It still appalled her that the older woman could have suggested that Dana would have been better off if Fox died. The cold-bloodedness frightened her beyond belief. "I notice she didn't stick around to see me wake up," Mulder said with a note of sarcasm. "I think I might have had something to do with that," Dana admitted sheepishly. Mulder gave her a questioning look. "I don't know how much of this you really need to know. . ." "Dana, she's my mother. Nothing she said to you will come as a surprise to me. What happened? Did you two fight or something?" Dana closed her eyes. She didn't want to do this. It served no purpose, other than to clear her own conscious that she had been justified in forbidding his mother into his room. But she knew him too well to think he would let it drop now. "Your mother and I had an argument over your living will," she said quietly. "This was after we had received the medical records from when you were sick with something similar, back when you were four. Skinner got the old records, through 'unofficial channels', I guess. They had suggested turning off the life support back then and your father would have nothing to do with it. The next day, your fever broke and you woke up sometime later that day." She looked over at him, expecting some reaction. There was none, he was just nodding, waiting for the rest of whatever she had to tell him. "I had been fighting with the doctors here, too, until we got those records. Then, they agreed with me to let the illness run it's course. You were stable, you weren't getting any better, but you weren't getting any worse, either. I thought the matter was settled and we were all just waiting until you started to get better. Then, yesterday morning, your mom asked to speak with me and she said she had spent the night thinking about it and if the living will represented your true wishes, we should abide by them." She refused to look at his face, she was too afraid of what she would find. So she knotted up the blankets with her hands and kept talking. "I thought she misunderstood. I told her that it was too early to make that decision. But she was adamant. When I told her that I was the executor of the will, and that I refused to execute the provisions, she told me. . .she told me that 'they' would never leave us alone. She said it would be best for me to let go, and not 'burden myself with this child'. She said that you and I are just playing into their hands. That they will never let us live in peace, especially with a 'another generation' to experiment on." She stopped when she saw his face grow pale. "She said that? She said 'experiment on'?" he asked, gripping her hand. Dana nodded. He sat in stunned silence. So many images tumbled through his mind, but the one that lingered was the file folder they had found in the mining operation when he returned from New Mexico. The file folder which had been his, until someone had covered his name with Samantha's. "She knew," he breathed. "She must have known." "Mulder? Fox? What are you talking about? Who must have known?" Dana was getting more worried by the minute. He turned to face her and the look he gave her was one she had seen before. It was the look of realization, the one when he discovered that his father had been party to atrocities untold and had kept those atrocities quiet, in the interests of National Security. But he kept saying 'she'. "My mother, Scully. Up till this moment, I always believed that she had no part in all this. I've been blaming my father, he was the one who blamed me, who turned on me and made me feel responsible. And all those years, after Samantha was taken, when the family was falling apart, I assumed it was his fault, or even my fault, but that my mother was blameless." His eyes were haunted and so dark they frightened Dana. "But she wasn't blameless at all. She was in on it. She knew. She still knows." He threw off his covers and went to get out of the bed. Only Dana's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Where do you think you're going," she demanded. "We've agreed that we BOTH need some rest right now. You aren't strong enough to go running back to DC today. Now just lie back. . ." He shook her hand off his shoulder. "I'm not going to DC. I'm going to my mother's house. Goddamit, Scully, I gave her a chance last spring. I gave her an opportunity to tell me the truth when I confronted her with the knowledge that Samantha was chosen to be abducted. And she didn't take it. She kept quiet, let it slip by. Well, I'll be damned if I'm going to let her get by with that now. She was right. For her sake, it would have been better if I'd died!" ****** end of part 1> > Homeward Bound part two Disclaimer in part one Greenwich CN 10:00 am Ann Mulder's residence Maggie Scully stamped her feet to knock the snow off her boots. She wasn't used to seeing snow this deep at the end of March, but then, Bill Scully had never been stationed in New England. She wondered to herself how much of the chill she was feeling was due to the weather, or to the fear she was feeling inside. She didn't have too much time to consider it, because the curtain on the door parted and Ann Mulder looked out at her. The door opened and Ann silently ushered her in. "Thank you for seeing me," Maggie said as she pulled off her coat. Ann took the coat and hung it up on the coat tree by the door, then motioned for Maggie to follow her into the living room. By the look on her face, Ann had been crying for sometime. "Please, sit down, Margaret. I've made some tea. I'll be right back," she said and that regal dignity surfaced once more as she left the room. Maggie took a minute to survey the little living room. It was much smaller than her own, but then, Ann had lived here all alone for several years. The furnishings were feminine, and not inexpensive. Several antiques were arranged on the mantel to an ornate wooden trimmed fireplace. Maggie stood by it, admiring the craftsmanship of the mantel. There were a few pictures, situated at random. A picture of a four year old boy, holding a tiny baby girl with a 'big brother smile' plastered on his face touched her heart. She recognized a very young Fox Mulder in the traditional cap and gown of a high school graduate. She smiled at his serious expression. Then, came another graduation picture, with a much different gown, she supposed it was his graduation picture from Oxford. Finally, a couple of pictures of a small girl, similar to the one she had seen on Fox's desk. Samantha. Ann came back into the room carrying a wedgewood tea service. "Do you take cream?" she asked, the perfect hostess, pouring the tea into dainty bone china cups. "No, thank you, sugar is fine," answered Maggie. She'd had 'tea' before, not the drink, the ceremony, many times, once she became a Captain's wife. It was expected. But now, after all that had happened and all that needed to be explained, it seemed very inappropriate and she felt out of place. The two women sat in silence for an interminable time, to Maggie before Ann finally spoke. "He's better, I take it," she said. It wasn't really a question, more of a comment. "Yes," Maggie answered brightly. "His fever broke yesterday morning and he came out of the coma early last night. When I left this morning, they were trying to convince him he still needed to rest." She smiled at the relief the memory caused her. "Your son is not exactly the most patient man in the world," she added with a wry grin. Ann didn't return the affectionate tone. "No, he never has been," she said flatly. The silence decended again. This time it was Maggie who broke the quiet. "Ann, I don't know what you and Dana talked about yesterday morning, but. . ." Ann held up her hand to stop Maggie. "I said some things that I should have kept to myself, Margaret. I realize that now. We must all make our own mistakes. I think I misjudged the strength of the bond between your daughter and my son. I understand completely why she reacted the way she did. I don't hold anything she said against her." "May I ask what it was all about?" Maggie interjected, hesitantly. She was on shaky ground here. She'd always had excellent relations with Bill, Jr.'s in-laws, but then, her daughter-in- law's family had hardly been as dysfunctional as the Mulders. In comparison, they were the Cleavers. Ann closed her eyes. She hadn't really wanted to go into any of this. Even as she had said the words the day before, she knew she was wrong. She had been manipulated again, this time so subtly that it took the angry words of a young woman she didn't even know to bring her to her senses. And by that time it was too late. "I think it best that the details are kept between Dana and myself, for now," she said, straining to be kind. "I will tell you that I was wrong. I had my reasons at the time, but now, after some time to reflect, I was foolish and stupid. But I'm afraid the damage is done and I don't think it can ever be repaired." She sipped her tea and tried to hold the tears back. "Perhaps it's for the best. I've never been much of a mother, I don't think I'd be much of a grandmother, either." Maggie's heart broke watching her. "Ann, don't talk like this. Everyone was tense yesterday. Good grief, your son was so sick and you were so worried about him. And Dana, she spends half her life worrying about him, but on top of that she had just found out they are expecting a baby. She wanted him to wake up so badly so she could tell him, but she was afraid how he would take it. . ." "How _did_ he take it?" Ann interrupted. Maggie smiled. "It's the strangest thing. He woke up and proposed. Just like that. She never really did get a chance to tell him. He already knew and from what Dana said, he was thrilled." She chuckled at the image that flashed in her mind, of her daughter, happy tears streaming down her cheeks, trying to explain how he could have known. "Dana said he's always been perceptive, but it still makes me wonder. . ." "I'm glad," Ann whispered. "I'm glad he's happy. That's all I ever really wanted, you know. For my son to be happy. It hurt me so much when he was growing up to see him so sad all the time, so serious. To see how Bill would reproach him for the least little thing, it was so unfair. He never deserved that. Never. But I just didn't have the strength to stand up to Bill. If I had, long ago, maybe things would have been different." Maggie watched her silently. There was so much pain here. This wasn't so much a family as it was a big open sore. she wondered. "Ann, I know you can't see it right now, but I know my daughter. She won't hold whatever was said yesterday against you. She'll give it time, and think it through and then she'll understand that you didn't mean it. She's a very good judge of character, my Dana. Just look at her taste in men," she added with a knowing smile. Ann tried to return the smile, but it never quite reached her eyes. "I hope you're right, Margaret. I really do." Boston General Hospital 12:00 noon "Are you sure about this?" Scully was standing next to Mulder's wheelchair, waiting for the nurse to take them down to the front door. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life," he said solemnly. She shook her head. She was still worried. He was too pale and for once in his life, hadn't even argued about the wheelchair ride to the door. She had already been to the motel and picked up their belongings before coming back to the hospital to pick him up. Now, he was insisting that they were to drive to his mother's house. she convinced herself. If he didn't want to stay in the hospital, nothing short of heavy seditives would keep him there. At least there had been no argument about who was going to drive. Fox had slid into the passenger's seat and stared out the window. But the grim expression cast on his face and the stiffness in his shoulder's, Dana knew he was still furious over his discovery. "Fox, I hope you aren't over reacting," she said softly. The silence in the car had become overwhelming. It wasn't the usual comfortable silence that they often lapsed into when on a case. This time, when she looked over to watch his face, his stern expression frightened her. "I'm not going to kill anybody, Scully," he countered, reading her thoughts. "I just want the truth for once. For once in my life I'm not going to let a well-rehersed sob story stop me from finding out exactly what happened." He stared out the window again. "It's not just for me, you know," he added quietly. He sighed deeply, almost painfully. "If they did 'experiment' on me, well, we should know about it, right? I mean it might have some affect on. . ." She watched him shudder and close his eyes against the horrible images that were tumbling through his mind. "I couldn't bear it if. . ." His hands were clenched into fist so tight his knuckles were white. He lapsed into silence once more. She reached over and gripped his hand. "There are tests, Fox. When we get back home, I have every intention of getting tested, having the baby tested. If it shows any problems, we can decide what we want to do then. Let's not buy trouble, OK?" she pleaded. He turned toward her and saw the fear he felt mirrored in her own eyes. He swallowed, pushing his own fear down. "You're right. And we have no reason to think anything is wrong," he added. He reached out and covered her hand with his own, then gave her a brief small smile. "Hey, Melissa and I might have had our differences, but she never once lied to me. If anything, she saw the truth even when I had let myself be blinded to it. And if she thinks everything will be all right, who are we to question?" She smiled back in relief. There would be enough time to worry while they waited for the tests results. Right now, she wanted to get his mind off things that were weighing so heavily on him. "So, you never did tell me why we have to name the baby after mom. I mean, why can't we name her Melissa? Like you said, you two had your differences, but I think it would be nice. . ." He laughed and it sounded wonderful to her ears. "No, you misunderstand. _Melissa_ doesn't want us to name her that! She told me she always hated her name. Said she even considered changing it, but didn't want to hurt your mother." Dana smiled at some long forgotten childhood memory. Her brothers, standing by an old abandoned treehouse, taunting her older sister with shouts of 'Messy Missy' and 'Missy the Mess'. Of course, they had been no easier on Dana, but it had been harder for them to make fun of her name. Melissa had even confided once that she would have rather been named Dana than Melissa. "I mean, we aren't naming any child 'Fox', if I have anything to say about it," he added emphatically. "Well, we have seven or eight months to decide," Dana grinned. "I don't think we need to rush into anything. We can get one of those baby name books and pick something we both like, and one that won't have Missy haunting our house for the next fory years." "I don't think we're going to be able to avoid the latter, but you're right. Besides, it's not your sister's ghost that scares me." "You're thinking about the Bureau?" she asked and he nodded. "They'll separate us, is that what you're thinking?" she asked. "You know the policy as well as I do," he answered flatly. "I wish there was some way around it, and who knows, maybe there is. I mean, it's not like there's a waiting list of people wanting to work on the X Files. And I think we're more of a threat to the 'games players' when we're together. Skinner knows that. Maybe he'll weigh it in our favor." "If we were just sleeping together, he probably _would_ just look the other way. But, Fox, face it. A wedding ring and a baby is pretty damning evidence that we're involved," Scully responded. "It makes it hard for him to ignore the situation. Others would claim preferential treatment and it could get really messy, for all of us." She felt like she was on a roller coaster of emotions, high as a kite one minute, the depths of dispair the next. "Maybe you answered my question too quickly this morning," he said quietly, regarding the scenery outside intensely. She looked at him, confused, until she understood he was refering to the proposal. "What? Are you trying to withdraw your proposal?" she shot at him with a mischievous grin. "Oh, no, Fox Mulder! You got me in a family way, now you have to finish the job and 'become' the family. I'm not letting you off that easy. If you don't show up, I have two really big brothers who will gladly come after you with shotguns and drag you to the church," she teased. "It will all work out," she added with confidence and pressed his hand to her lips. "So, are we engraving that on our silver?" he grinned back at her. "I think it might be more socially acceptable than 'trust no one'," she countered and was rewarded with another big smile. When they arrived at Ann Mulder's home, Dana was surprised to see her mother's car there. Maggie hadn't said where she was going and Dana hadn't asked. She wasn't sure she wanted her mother in the room when the Mulder family 'dirty laundry' was being discussed. For that matter, it was only for the sake of the man sitting next to her that _she_ even consented to being in the room. He had asked her to stay, even when she offered to let him talk to his mother in private. "I want a witness," was his only explanation. The knock on the door startled the two women in the living room. Ann got up and opened the door, her eyes growing wide at the unexpected visitors. "Didn't expect to see me again, did you, Mom," Mulder said evenly. Ann bit her lip and sighed. "I didn't think you would want to see me," she whispered and led them both into the living room. "Hi, Maggie," Mulder said, standing by the fireplace. Dana sat down on the sofa, next to her mother. She reached over and took her mom's hand in a gentle squeeze. Maggie could see the dark mood that had decended and suddenly got the impression they were standing on a battlefield of a war she no part of and could never understand. "Ann, you know, it's lunchtime. If you don't mind, I'll go get us some sandwiches and bring them back here. I know none of us have been very good at eating regularly these last couple of days." She got up and looked down at Dana. "Want to ride along, sweetheart?" Dana shook her head and let her gaze fall on her partner. Maggie nodded in silence and headed for the door. "What do you want, Fox?" Ann asked after the door had shut firmly behind Maggie. "Same thing I've wanted for 22 years, Mom. The truth. I thought I asked for it last April, but I let you off when the tears came. I'm not making the same mistake this time." "I had no right to suggest that we turn off the machines," Ann said, her voice straining to hold steady. "No, you didn't. Especially since it was my wish that decision be made by Dana. See, Mom, I trust Dana. And, again, my trust was well placed. But that's not what I asked, and you know it." He was glaring at her as if she were the most vile of serial killers and it took Dana's breath away. "I don't know the truth, Fox. I never did." She got up and busied herself with the tea service until his hand came down on her shoulder and spun her around. "You mentioned an 'experiment', Mother. One done on me. You know something. What is it?" he growled. She stood up and very deliberately took his hand in her own. "All I know is that it happened 30 years ago. I have no other details. I walked out into the hallway when your father was making a phone call. I heard only half of the conversation," she sighed. "Who was he talking to?" Mulder demanded. "Them! I don't know who they are. You saw their picture last April," she answered in a hiss. "You don't know their names?" Mulder yelled, incredulous. "NO! I don't!" she shouted back. Then she quietly added, "And I never really wanted to know. What difference does it make? Whatever they did, it didn't hurt you, you grew up, you were bright, exceptionally bright. Your memory, for all I know, it's the result of those experiments. God knows, neither your father or I had eiditic memories." She let go of his hand and sat down heavily on the sofa. "You were a bright baby, Fox. You were potty trained early, you could read by the time you were three and a half. All that was before the illness. Whatever they did, they only 'enhanced' what you already had. I'm convinced of that," she said quietly. "Yeah, well, Mom, what about my nightmares?" Mulder shot back at her angrily. Ann was beginning to lose her own patience. "You've had nightmares your whole life!" she shouted. "Ever since you were 9 months old," she said softly, shocked at her own outburst. He looked at her, confused. "I don't understand. . ." he muttered. "You had night terrors. Horrible, horrible terrors. They started when you were 9 months. You would scream and scream and we thought something was killing you. But when we went into your room, you were alone and it took forever to calm you down. Later, when you were out of the crib, you would still have the nightmares. You would come into our room and beg me to come in and lie down with you, so you wouldn't be alone." Her voice was so soft it was only a whisper. She smiled, a little wistfully. "And I did. I would go in and rub your back and pretty soon you would fall asleep. And if I hadn't fallen asleep by then, I go back to my room. That's how I knew there was something wrong the night you got sick. You hadn't come in to get me." The memory was still painful, after 30 years. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, the sight before her hurt more than any memory. Her son, her baby boy, was looking at her like she was a stranger--no, worse, like she was one of those killers he was so good at hunting down. she asked herself. she answered. "Fox. Come sit down. I think it's time we talked," she said softly. At first, it appeared that he hadn't heard her, then he walked over and sat next to Dana on the sofa. "Maybe I should leave," Dana spoke for the first time. "I should find us a room for the night." Ann looked over at her. "No, dear, I want you to stay. This affects you, too, and I want you to hear it from me. I don't think it will change anything, but maybe you can understand what I was thinking yesterday when we talked." She got up and paced for a moment before finally sitting down in the arm chair across from the sofa. "It's so hard to know where to start," she sighed. "How about at the beginning, Mom," Mulder quipped and sat back, prepared to listen. ******* end of part 2 > Homeward Bound part three by Vickie Moseley vmoseley@fgi.net Disclaimer in part one Ann smiled at him. "OK, the beginning. You know that I met your father in college. In fact, that's when we got married. I was in my junior year. We'd been going together for several months. I discovered that I was pregnant. . .with you," she smiled slightly. "Oh great. We're repeating mistakes already," Mulder said flatly. "Get one thing straight, Fox Mulder," Ann said seriously. "You were a 'surprise', yes, but you were _never_ a mistake! Your father was so excited when I told him. We were married on campus, at the Chapel of Boston College. He was a graduate student and we could afford a tiny apartment near campus. I got a job working at the library, making sure my hours were when your father could be home to watch you. From the start, you were his pride and joy. He loved you so much." She stopped for a moment and looked at her son. She could see he was trying to reconcile the father he had known for so long with the man she was describing. "When you were almost two, your father got his Master's and we knew he had to find a job. I had gone back to school part time, trying to finish my teaching degree. After months of searching, he got a call. It was from the State Department. He had applied there right out of school, but the position had been filled internally. We forgot about it. This time, they had a different position, and your father was the only applicant they were considering. He took the train down to Washington, our car was a 53 Rambler and couldn't make the trip. When he called to tell me that he had gotten the job, I was ecstatic." "I expected we would have to move to Washington. I was surprised when Bill told me that he was to stay in the Boston area and do research. He would have to go to DC occasionally on trips, but most of the time he would work at an office in Boston. About that time, your grandfather passed away and left us the house in Chilimark. We moved there almost immediately." "We were so happy, the three of us. You were a handful, that was certain, but you were also a joy. You learned to read on the porch of that house. You were constantly saying things that would cause your father to burst out laughing. You were so serious, but with such a streak of mischief, you kept us hopping. And I was in seventh heaven." "After about a year, your father started having more and more business trips. I didn't think much of it. He got a huge increase in his salary, and the Dept. paid all his expenses, so the only problem was the time it took him away from us. I was secretly quite proud that it meant he was 'climbing the ladder'. I expected it meant we would end up moving to Washington, but I really didn't even mind. We would always have the house on the Vineyard, for vacations and I have to admit, the thought of Washington's social life was very inticing. I asked your father about it a few times, but each time he said no. We were to stay where we were. He didn't want to disrupt your life. This was home to you." "I was getting lonely, to be honest, and you were ready for school, even though you were only four. So, Samantha was conceived. Again, your father was thrilled. But, things were beginning to change. He didn't talk about work very much, told me it was too boring to bring home. When he was in the house, his attention was always on you, what you were reading, what you were doing. You were his total focus. I was so proud to have a husband who took such an interest in his child. Most fathers would come home and flop in an easy chair, read their papers and watch TV, ignoring their children, but not Bill. But then, he was gone so much, that he really didn't have much time at home." "As I told you, you were lonely, too. Or at least that's what I thought. A baby brother or sister would fill up some of that loneliness, at least I hoped it would. Anyway, Bill was gone again, when you got sick." "It didn't make sense. You hadn't been sick all fall. No colds, no sniffles, even. Just all of a sudden, you were violently ill. When I went in to check on you, you were so hot, and you wouldn't wake up. It scared me so much. And you sounded like you couldn't breath. I called the hotel that your father always stayed at and he told me to call the ambulance." "I told Dana the rest of it. Basically, we took you by ambulance into Boston. You were on life supports, you weren't even breathing on your own. I was so terrified, your father was so terrified. One of the doctors suggested that even if you did recover, you would be severely brain damaged by the fever. He told us you would be a vegetable and would probably not live to see your teens. Then he tried to tell us how hard it would be to care for you, especially with a baby in the house. He was the one to suggest that we turn off the machines and just let you die in peace." Ann stopped and took a moment to compose herself. She glanced over at Dana and saw tears glistening on her cheeks. Ann smiled wanly at the younger woman and went on. "Your father almost hit that doctor. In minutes, he was on the phone to our lawyer, working on getting a court order, if necessary. Of course, it wasn't, but it frightened me even more to think that the doctors thought your case was hopeless." "I was staying with you every second, by this time. The nurses just worked around me. I wouldn't let go of your hand. I talked to you, read to you, told you stories. Anything I could think of that might get through to you. At one point, the nurses insisted that I had to get something to eat, for the baby's sake. I was on my way to grab a sandwich from the coffee shop when I found your father on the phone. At first I thought he was talking to the lawyers. His back was to me, but I was sure he wouldn't mind if I listened in. Now, I almost wish I wouldn't have seen him." "Like I told you, Fox, I only heard one half of the conversation. He called the other man Andrew and he was very angry as he spoke. He was demanding to know how they had gotten hold of you, how they gave you 'the substance'. He told him that you were not 'one of the merchandise to be experimented on' and that he was going to do something to stop them. Then, he listened. He listened for a long time. And I watched him closely, and it was like all the life just drained out of him. He spoke more quietly from that point on. He nodded and said yes a lot. He even thanked the man on the other end. When he hung up the phone, he wiped a tear away from his face. I was so shocked, I ran down the hall. I don't think he saw me." "I hid out in the coffee shop, trying to figure out what to do. My son was dying, my husband knew who had done it and what had been done and I just couldn't believe it. Finally, my fear for you outweighed everything else and I went back to the room. Bill was sitting there, holding your hand and reading to you. For a little while, I almost convinced myself that I had imagined the phone call. It was a nightmare or something. But I noticed something. Bill refused to look me in the eye. He talked to me, but wouldn't look at me. And so I knew it was all true." "I confronted him with what I had heard. He immediately went on the defensive, telling me that it was State Dept. business and that it had nothing to do with you at all. But he still refused to meet my eyes. I loved your father, Fox, and I could read him like a book. I had never been concerned about the time he had been in Washington, because I knew when he lied and would know right away if he was ever to have an affair. That day, I knew he was lying. And I had to make some decisions, soon." "Your fever broke and you woke up, crying for Alexander, remember, your teddy bear? You were weak, but you were lucid and remembered everything, how to read, how to write. The doctors were amazed, called you their little miracle. Dr. Gleason was the only one who continued to wonder what had happened. He kept tabs on you, even coming out to the house to see you once or twice before he committed suicide about a year after you were sick." "As for me and your father, well, I was so confused. I still loved him. I couldn't believe he would ever have agreed to anything so horrible. I knew it had to be a mistake. And before long, Samantha was born. There I was, with a four year old and a new baby, what could I do? So I stayed with him. And I never asked about work. With time, some of his associates would stop by the house. He never introduced them, he would take them out on the porch to talk. One of them, an English gentleman, made a point of talking to you every time he came. You thought he was funny, he talked funny. He loved to play with Samantha, too. After she was taken, he came to the house again. You were at school. He told me that I shouldn't worry. That our daughter would be returned eventually. But even as he said it, I knew he was lying. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was responsible for her being taken. I threw him out of the house. It was the last time I saw any of them again." "That's all I know, Fox. Except that the English gentleman showed up at the hospital the day before yesterday. He suggested that I let you die. That your life was not what I had dreamed it would be and that it would be best for you to end it now. I was so angry at him. I hated him. But I let what he had to say affect me. And I almost let him convince me that he was right." She looked up at Dana again. "Thank god, someone loved you enough to stop me from making the worst mistake of my life." "You really don't know any more than that, do you?" Mulder asked, breaking the silence. "No, I don't. I know that after Samantha was gone, I couldn't stand to be in the same room with your father. And he was being so abusive to you. I couldn't take it anymore. Besides, I didn't need him, you were old enough not to need him. But I was to blame, too. And because of that, I shut myself off, even from you. I'm so sorry I ever let that happen. You were right, Dana. I was afraid of the heartache. But that's really no excuse, is it?" Dana stood up and walked over to Ann. "No, it's no excuse, but I can understand it. Times were different then. I just want you to know that I can't condone what you said the other day, but I don't condemn you for thinking it, either. I know there have been times when I've felt like giving up, too. After they killed my sister. . ." her voice trembled a minute and she stopped to get it under to control. "After they killed her, I didn't know what to do. But your son," she smiled over at Mulder. "Your son gave me the strength to go on. And that's exactly what we are going to do." Ann took Dana's hand. "I'm going to be very happy, knowing that he has you," she said. There was a knock at the door and Dana opened it. Maggie was there, with a tentative look on her face, loaded with bags from various delis and grocery stores. "Did I stay away long enough?" she asked in a stage whisper. "Yeah, Mom, just long enough," Dana smiled. "But let's take our time fixing up the plates. I want Fox and his mom to have some time alone to talk." "Well, Fox, what do we do now?" Ann asked after Maggie and Dana left for the kitchen. "I have a lot to think about, Mom. I don't think I can make a decision right now," he said calmly. "Will you and Dana at least stay the night? I have room. I've already invited Maggie." "I don't know. Dana really needs to rest. I'll ask her." He got up and went into the kitchen. Dana looked up from the sandwich she was cutting. "How are you doing?" she asked, concerned. "Fine. A little tired. She wants us to stay the night," he replied, grabbing for a pickle before Dana slapped his hand. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Maggie murmured in Dana's ear, carrying two plates into the dining room. Dana wiped her hands on a dish towel. "What do you want to do? I warn you, I'm not driving farther than the nearest motel, regardless," she warned. "Let's stay the night. I'm still a little punchy, I don't know how much of her story I really buy. But for the first time, I think she was really trying to tell the truth. At least, the truth as she knows it. I guess I'll never really know the truth, since Dad died. He took a lot of it with him to the grave," he said sadly. "I'm sorry," Dana whispered and reached up to kiss him. He looked at her for a second and then returned the kiss. "You look exhausted. After lunch, I want you to go lie down, take a nap. It can't be good for you, no rest, lousy hospital food." "Sounds like my residency," she quipped. "But you weren't expecting our baby during your residency, future Mrs. Mulder," he countered. "OK, I'll take a nap. But only if you take one with me. You're still too pale. I want you rested before we start back home." He got a sly smile and nodded. "I mean it, Mulder. We are going to sleep!" she said, hitting him in the arm. "I still have my gun with me, you know," she added menacingly. "Promises, promises," he teased and helped her carry the two remaining plates to the table. When Dana woke up, it was already dark outside. She rolled over and saw that Mulder was awake, too. He was chewing on his lip, hands behind his head, deep in thought. "Mornin'," she smiled at him, snuggling closer to him. "Did you sleep at all?" "Yeah, a little. Mostly, I laid here and watched you sleep," he smiled. "I never sleep that well after a coma," he joked, but the grimace on her face made him sorry he had said it. "I was only kidding," he said apologetically. "I know, but it's true. I remember when you got back from New Mexico. And Alaska. We really need to reassess our lifestyle, you know," she pointed out. "Not exactly conducive to bringing up a baby, is it?" he nodded. "Well, I think we could still manage to make a living, but I think we need to get a grip on what is manageable risk and what is unreasonable risk," she concluded. She hadn't wanted this to turn into a lecture. "What were you thinking about?" "My dad," he answered. "I was trying to remember a time when I thought he loved me." The look in his eyes tore at her heart. "You'd think, with my memory, I'd be able to remember something like that." "From what your mom said, it sounds like he loved you very much," Dana sighed, stroking his hand in hers. "Yeah, I guess so. I do remember sitting in the big chair with him. It was cold outside and we were huddled underneath a blanket by the fireplace. He was reading to me, _The Hobbit_, I think. I must have been three or four." "Seems like you get a lot of mileage out of snuggling under a blanket. That must be where you got it from," she teased, reminding him of how they had first confessed their love. He smiled at her. "Yeah, give me a good blanket any old day," he chuckled. Then he grew serious. "So I guess, they took my dad away from me even before they took my sister," he said dryly. Dana pulled him down to kiss him. "I'll make certain they never take anything else away from you. From us, ever again." He gave her a smile and prayed in his heart that she was right. ****** end of part 3> > Homeward Bound part four Disclaimer in part one Bethesda Clinic March 25, 1996 9:30 am Mulder had read every one of the Sports Illustrateds and was about to start on the Newsweeks. Waiting had never been more annoying. Every few seconds, he would glance up at the corridor, hoping to see a familiar face. Well, one familiar face in particular. And all the while, he kept wondering what would happen if the world decided to take this opportunity to really fall apart on him. An article on the primary elections finally caught his attention, simply because he had lost track of who was running for President these days. he had convinced himself. He didn't hear the nurse call his name until she was standing directly above him. "Mr. Mulder. Your wife would like you to join her in the exam room," the nurse stated. he mused. "Certainly. Which way?" he asked and she directed him. The room was small and Dana was sitting up on the examining table, one of those white gowns around her and another sheet covering her lap. She smiled at him when he walked in. He took a deep breath and tried to give her a smile in return. It was fairly weak, but it was the best he could do. "Well, what have they come up with?" he asked. "For starters, I'm definitely pregnant," she said. "I sort of figured on that one," he replied. "And it appears that everything is normal," she added. "They want to do a sonogram, and I thought you might want to come in and watch." He looked a little shell shocked. "OK, if you think you want me to," he said hesitantly. She took his hand and squeezed. "Are you sure you're OK?" she asked. "You look a little pale." "Nerves," he replied and she nodded. "How are you doing?" "I'm fine. As long as you're here, I'll be all right," she said quietly and that made him smile. "I'm not going anywhere," he countered and the technician came in and set up the machine, cutting off any further discussion. "Well, Dana, you are still pretty early in your pregnancy, so Doctor prefers an internal sonogram at this point. It won't hurt, believe me, I've had one," the tech, whose name tag read 'Sheryl' smiled at the both brightly. "And you're 'daddy'?" she asked Mulder. He only nodded, and Dana noticed that a person really could blush and go pale at the same moment. She squeezed his hand tighter and his color returned to some semblance of normal. Sheryl used the sheet covering Dana's lap as a drape, a fact that Mulder gave silent thanks for, and started the procedure. In a moment, a small computer screen next to the exam table came to life and what looked like static was on it. After some adjusting, a tiny object was seen, floating. It was only about 5 or 6 centimeters long, but Mulder immediately recognized the shape as a human embryo. Sheryl was chatting merrily, using a mouse cursor to point out the head, the spine, and in the center, the tiny heart, beating steadily, but Mulder heard none of it. He was totally mesmerized. "Mulder?" Dana spoke, trying to see if he was lapsing into the coma again. "Fox, do you want to sit down?" "No," came the reply after a few minutes. "That's her. That's our baby." She'd heard this voice before. It usually came in times when the evidence before them was so spectacular that even her 'I want to believe' partner was nonplused. She smiled at him and turned to watch the computer screen herself. "How is it? I mean, does it look normal, or OK?" he asked of Sheryl in a slightly panicked voice. Sheryl furrowed her brow and grew serious. "Why, yes, it looks perfectly normal. You weren't expecting problems, were you?" Dana covered quickly. "It's our first. We didn't know quite what to expect," she explained. Sheryl smiled at that. "Oh, I see. No, you have a beautiful baby there. Of course, I see you're scheduled for amnio, so any genetic problem will come to light then, but for the most part, the spine looks good, the arm and leg buds are developed well for this point in the pregnancy, and that heart, well, it's definitely looking good." She pressed a few buttons and small pictures on computer paper started spurting forth from the machine. One handed, Sheryl reached over and pulled them off, handing them to Mulder. "I've found that most father's get a little queasy watching the amnio test. Why don't you take these and the girl outside will get you a jacket for the one you like best. We'll finish up and Dana will be out to join you in a few minutes, OK?" He was still staring at the picture, now taped inside a soft pink and burgundy card reading 'Baby's First Photo', when Dana came back out into the waiting room. "You ready to go?" she asked and pulled him to his feet. He handed her the picture. She looked at it and smiled, then tucked in safely in her purse. "How long till the other test comes back?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Carrel, my OB, and I went through residency together. I explained that we had some concerns because of some illnesses we've had, work related, and she agreed to speed things up. With any luck, we'll know by the time I get home tonight." "I'm going into the office with you," he countered. She shook her head emphatically. "Skinner gave the guards 'shot to kill' orders if you come within 50 feet of the building," she told him. "You are still on medical leave. I know those words mean absolutely nothing to you, but he was really serious when I talked to him yesterday morning. You are to stay home until you've been checked out by a doctor here in town." "I thought I got checked out last night when we got back to your place," he said with a devilish grin. "Very prepubescent, Mulder," she retorted dryly. "No. We are going over to GWU, they'll do a physical and then you go home for the afternoon and rest. I have some stuff to clean up on the case and I promise I'll be home early. If you want to make yourself feel useful, you _could_ have dinner waiting for me when I get home," she pointed out with a devilish grin of her own. "And set a precedent! Never," he said in mock seriousness and enfolded her in a hug. "But the pizza will be delivered within minutes of your arrival, sweetheart." "I should have snuck him in," Dana muttered to herself as she finished up the report on the 'haunted house' on the outskirts of Boston. After all the events of the last 4 days, she was having a hard time piecing together the notes she had taken and the images that kept floating in her mind. It hadn't helped that she was dead on her feet the entire investigation. "A nice handy eiditic memory would be good right now, but he'd better be sleeping," she sighed. The phone rang beside her and startled her. "Scully." "You gonna change that, or you gonna keep it," the male voice on the other end of the line asked. "Keep it. We can be Mr. and Mrs. on Christmas cards and school emergency forms," she said, happy to hear his voice. "Hey, since you called, did the bloody walls only manifest themselves on the third floor of the house?" "No, remember, there was one wall, the north wall, in the basement with the same stuff. Having trouble with your notes?" he asked. "I don't write very clearly when I'm asleep, I've discovered," she confided. "But that was the only big question I had left. I'm printing out as we speak." "Good. I miss you," Mulder said. "Hey, no pepperoni on my half of the pizza, OK," she reminded him. "Got it. I love you," he said and she could see his face as he said it. It made her smile. "I love you, too. I'll be home in a bit. Just want to drop this off to Skinner and I'm on my way." "Be careful. See you soon." He hung up. She picked up the printed sheets and arranged them in the folder. Then, she reached into her bottom drawer and grabbed her purse, pulled her coat off the coattree and she was out the door. Once in the hallway, she tried to find her car keys in the half light and ran smack into Assistant Director Walter Skinner. "I was just coming up to give you this, sir," Dana said, thrusting the file folder in the AD's hand. As she did, the purse strap fell off her shoulder and her purse fell to the ground, spilling much of it's contents, including her keys. Skinner stooped to help her pick up the spilled items, and managed to scoop up the pink and burgundy folder, which was on the top of the pile. Walter Skinner was never one to pry too deeply into the private lives of any of his agents, but he had come to be a little more 'involved' with these two than he ever imagined. As he read the words on the outside of the card, Scully watched with a sense of horror as the implications played on the older man's face. "Do we need to talk, Agent Scully," he intoned. It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement of fact. "Sir, could you come by my apartment this evening? I think I can explain everything," Scully pleaded. Skinner was in a momentary state of shock and honestly didn't mind having the time to think through the situation. On top of that, he was already rather late for a meeting and simply didn't have time to go into the kind of discussion he feared he needed to have with Scully at that moment. "Sure. About 9." He helped her pick up the remaining items, helped her to her feet and looked down at her. "I assume Agent Mulder will be in attendance, as well?" he added. "Yes sir, he will," she answered quietly and quickly left. Mulder was lying on the couch, eyes closed. To anyone passing by, he appeared to be sleeping. He wished he was. He was thinking and it wasn't very productive. He had given Dana the picture to hold. His daughter. Just a little over 5 cm. long, no real body shape, yet. Just a head, a spine, a heart, a very clearly beating heart. That was the image on the back of his eyelids. The little beating heart. he mused. But he knew that it didn't have anything to do with the impact that image had made. Little hearts. It's so easy to break them. Look at how easy his had been broken. He had very definite memories of the time before Samantha was gone. But few of them were of his father. It seemed that he was always away, in DC or somewhere. Always on business. He was a voice on a phone line. <> Those were the memories of his father. The man his mother had spoken of seemed like an alien clone of the man he had known growing up. he mused. When he had allowed himself to consider fatherhood, and he had at times, Fox always assumed that his own father had been always been cold and unloving. He could convince himself that his father had never really wanted him, had never wanted to be burdened with children, and that would explain his distance and his constant rejection. But now he was faced with a much different reality than his conjecture. At some point, the woman he loved told William Mulder that he was going to be a father, and that thought had made him happy. 'Thrilled' to use his mother's words. And if she were really telling the truth, he had been a very good father, the kind of father that Fox Mulder could only hope to be. Then something had changed him. And it was all lost. 'They' changed him. It was so easy to place all the blame on 'them.' He knew Cancerman had known his father then, even his own mentor, Deep Throat had been pictured outside the mining operation in western Maryland. But was that entirely fair? What had been so important about his work that William Mulder would walk away from his family, allow them to abduct his daughter, let them perform some experiment on his four year old son? Fox shuddered at the thought. He could never imagine doing any of those things. He didn't trust his government. What was that bumper stick that he had pointed out to Scully when they were in Oklahoma a month or so ago? 'I love my country. . .it's my government I don't trust.' That about summed up his feelings as well. So why was he drawing a paycheck from the same people he couldn't trust? Maybe his life was becoming as much a tangle of lies as his father's before him. He was startled out of this line of thought by the sound of keys in the door. He opened his eyes and watched Dana come in, carrying a grocery bag and something from the video store. He hadn't had a chance to stand up when the phone rang. She gave him a wave and went to answer it. "Scully. Oh, hi Carole. Thanks for getting back to me." Dana slipped her coat off with his help and he hung it on the hook by the door. "Yeah, well, we are kind of on pins and needles," she continued, glancing over at Mulder to see him nodding in agreement. "Nothing? What about those factors I asked you to mark? No sign of them?" By this time she had broken into a huge smile and was giving Mulder the 'thumbs up'. "And it is a girl?" Dana laughed for a moment. "No, he isn't psychic, he's just a good guesser," she giggled into the phone. "Yes, I went ahead and set up the next appointment today. Next month. No, I don't see how we could possible handle this on a barter basis, Carole. How many crimes do you usually get involved with?" This was good, Scully was joking. "OK, I'll see you in a month, then. Yes, I already filled the prescription. I'm all set. I'll bring him in next time so you can meet him. Good bye, and Carole, thanks a lot. I mean it." She hung up the phone and looked at him with that beautiful smile she gave him so rarely. He took no time pulling her close to him and kissing her deeply. She pulled away to smile at him again. "I like your reaction to good news, Mulder," she teased and kissed him back. "We've got a few minutes till the pizza arrives. Why don't you take a nap?" he suggested. "In a minute. We have something else to deal with," she said, her face growing serious again. "Now what?" he asked with apprehension. "Skinner is coming over at 9, 'to talk'," she said evenly. "I take it that he's not coming over to talk about the case in Boston," he offered. "No. When I went to give him the report, he was coming down to see me. I dropped my purse and everything spilled out, including the sonogram picture. He picked it up before I even noticed it had fallen out. So that means we have about 3 hours to figure out how we are going to tell him about the baby, and us, for that matter." "But he's coming here?" Mulder asked. "That doesn't sound like an 'official discussion'. At least, not yet. There may be a light at the end of the tunnel," he pointed out. "Or that's just an oncoming train, Mulder. But we have 3 hours to be frantic until he gets here. What did I do with that bottle of Scotch that Charlie gave me for Christmas?" "Pregnant women do not drink, Scully. You should know that," he chided. "It's not for me. I figure if we get him drunk, well, maybe the discussion will go better that way." ******* end of part 4> > Homeward Bound part five Disclaimer in part one 9:02 pm Walter Skinner was not a happy man. The meeting he had been late for was a disaster. He had several cases on his desk in need of immediate attention. And the X Files were about to be shut down, again, by all outward appearances. This time, though, it was all Mulder's fault. Maybe that wasn't entirely fair. Skinner had no doubt that Dana Scully was not completely blameless here. To imagine her as being 'swept off her feet' by her own partner was an insult to the woman's intelligence as well as her integrity. No, she was as much to blame as he was. That didn't make the situation any easier to bear. But how could he blame them? They were thrown together under the most dangerous of circumstances. They had no one else to rely on but each other. Even he couldn't help them as much as he had wanted to at times. And as paranoid as Mulder appeared, it did indeed seem that the 'bastards were out to get them'. The fact that they sought comfort in each other's arms only made them human, not criminals. But that was exactly how they would be treated. Well, maybe not criminals. But rogue agents, that was for sure. he exclaimed to himself as he drove toward Scully's apartment. Just a few days ago, he was positive their partnership was ended, for entirely different reasons: he was certain that Fox Mulder was dying and he was equally certain he knew who was behind it. he chided himself. It was Mulder who answered the door. "We have to stop meeting like this," the younger agent quipped. Skinner gave him a scowl. "Seems like you should have been thinking that much sooner, and in relation to someone else," Skinner shot back. Mulder winced at the point scored. "Come on in and sit down. Dana's making coffee," Mulder said, leading the way to the living room. Skinner barely glanced around the room, sitting in the arm chair across from the sofa. Right behind him came Scully, carrying three mugs of coffee in her hands. "I remember you like your coffee black, sir," she said, handing him a mug. "I'm afraid it's decaf, we're both supposed to avoid caffeine for a while," she added, nodding over to Mulder who screwed up his face in disgust. Mulder hated decaf. Skinner took a swig of the coffee, secretly wishing it was something with a much stronger proof and regarded the two agents sitting in front of him. Mulder looked defiant, Scully looked apologetic. This was not good. "Well, Agent Scully. Just tell me that sonogram was from your brother's wife and I'll go home a happy man," Skinner said evenly. Mulder smirked but said nothing. Dana took a sip of her coffee and cleared her throat. "The picture is mine, sir. I'm pregnant." Skinner closed his eyes in distress. Somehow, hearing it was much worse than imagining it. "Then tell me the father is from another agency, another town,. . .another planet," he pleaded. "No such luck," Mulder said quietly. "If it's any consolation, this was a surprise, to both of us." "I would think Oxford would have seen to it that you knew where babies come from, Agent Mulder," Skinner intoned. "And it's not exactly like Agent Scully has that excuse, either." "That's not what I meant, and you know it," Mulder replied, trying very hard to stay calm, for Dana's sake. "We have worked together for three years and I've never touched her. We've been through hell together and we kept our relationship on a strictly professional basis. Very by the book. But you know, I guess we just got tired of lying to ourselves and we did the only honest thing we could think of--we fell in love. That's the surprise I was refering to. The baby, well, it's just a little added surprise, but it's not exactly in the realm of extreme possibilities," he added with a smile to Dana. Skinner started to take another drink of coffee, but stopped. "Scully, I can only assume you have something stronger sitting around here someplace," he said. She nodded. "Break it out. We have some damage control to do and it might take some time. I hope you're both well rested." Mulder got up and retrieved the unopened bottle of Scotch from the kitchen cabinet and two glasses. Pouring both glasses to the brim, he offered one to Skinner and took one himself. Scully sat back and watched in amazement at the obvious display of male bonding. This was too weird for words. "It's obvious that neither of you want other partners," Skinner said after they had spent close to two hours going over all the possibilities. "It's not so much a matter of 'want' as a matter of 'trust' another partner, Skinner. I won't have another Krycek. And there is no way I'm letting anyone I don't trust completely within a 100 feet of my wife," Mulder growled. "Then maybe we could have her stay at Quantico. As an instructor, she didn't have a partner," Skinner pointed out, for the fourth time during the evening. "And leave you with no one to watch your back?" Dana interjected, putting a warning hand on Mulder's arm. "Out of the question! I won't be sitting at Quantico wondering when the coroner is going to call. Next option!" she demanded. "I know I haven't mentioned it before, because it's a little far fetched, but could we just say you don't know who the father is and continue to keep this relationship a secret," Skinner suggested and even as he said it, he realized it was the Scotch talking and not himself. Mulder bristled at this one. "Unlike some people, I acknowledge my children, Assistant Director," he hissed. Skinner sighed and filled Mulder glass. "I figured as much, Mulder. I'm just running out of options here." He glanced at his watch. "Look, I'm running out of options and we're running out of steam. Don't come strolling into the office with a copy of Parents Magazine and one of Modern Bride tomorrow, Scully. Let's keep this between the three of us." "We're getting married on Saturday," Mulder replied. "Fine, just don't post the invitation on the bulletin board of the cafeteria, OK?" Skinner growled in exasperation. "I'm sure you can manage to maintain a policy of 'deny everything', at least until I can figure out how to keep you out of hot water." He stood up, a little amazed that he didn't feel more blown away than he thought he would. "Agent Scully, I'd like to use your phone. I think a cab is in order." Dana was already in bed when Mulder made his way into the bedroom, flicking off lights as he went. It was strange, how quickly they had adapted to living together. And even stranger still, they managed to change locations without incident. If their flight came into National, Dana was just as comfortable rambling around his apartment as she was in her own. He felt perfectly at ease, where ever they laid their heads. He quietly pulled back the covers and crawled into bed, but after just a moment of listening, he knew she wasn't asleep. "Hey, it's after midnight. Carole will come after me with a scapel if you don't get some rest," he teased, but his tone made her realize there was a point being made. "I was just thinking. You were right. I think Skinner really does want to try and keep us together. But I'm at a loss to figure out how," she said with a sigh. "That's because you weren't drinking any of the scotch," he quipped. Rolling over on his side, he pulled her closer to him. She complied, snuggling into the crook of his arm. "Don't worry, OK?" he pleaded, stroking her hair. "It's going to be all right. Hey, remember our silver pattern," he added. "And at least the baby's all right," she replied. She heard him sigh in relief as he gave her a hug. "Yes, at least that. With that particular nightmare out of the way, I think this whole business with our jobs will fall into place, too. It's going to take some creative thinking on Skinner's part, but somehow, I think he's actually up to the challenge. He might be a son of a bitch at times, but he's a damn good bureaucrat," Mulder said, gently kissing her hair. "So, we're getting married on Saturday, huh?" Dana asked, trying to sound annoyed. "Did you want to wait? I mean, I figured we'd want to get married as soon as possible. I don't want our daughter sitting with a calendar some day, figuring out that mom and dad did the wild thing before marriage." "So we'll just lie to her and tell her that she was early?" Dana asked with amusement. "No, bad idea. OK, I want to marry you on Saturday because I don't want to give you time to back out of it," he said, and even in the darkness, she could see his smile. "That, I'll believe. That's OK, Fox. I want us married, too. And I want our mothers there when we do it,"` she added and felt him stiffen slightly at her suggestion. "I know you don't want your mom there, but Fox, she's the baby's grandmother, too, you know. Don't deny them each other, because of the problems you two have. It wouldn't be fair. Besides, my mom would object, you know that." He sulked for a moment, then sighed. "It's your wedding. You can invite anyone you want, sweetheart," he said and kissed her hair before falling asleep. Tuesday, March 26 6:30 pm It had been a long day at work and an even longer ride home. Mulder wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch and turn into a potato. At lunch, he and Dana had gone down to the courthouse to get their marriage license. A friend of Dana's older brother, who was a priest at a church in Tyson Corners, VA, had agreed to do the ceremony. They had decided to put off finding a new place for a while, at least until the whole question of their jobs had been settled. He would just move most of his things over to Dana's. As he pulled out his keys, a small box lying on the floor caught the edge of his foot and he kicked it halfway down the hallway. Juggling his briefcase, keys and paper, he retrieved it and carried it with him into the apartment. He dumped the box, briefcase and paper unceremoniously on the coffee table and went off to change his clothes. They were spending the night at his place, Dana worrying that the fish would be archeological exhibits if they didn't get them fed. He also needed to find his dry cleaning in the morass he called a closet. In a couple of minutes, he came back into the living room, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and finally took the time to pick up the box. He grimaced when he saw the return address. It was from his mother. They had been civil to each other when he left her home, but it was still a strain. The thought that Dana would be inviting her to wedding didn't set too well with him, either. He had meant it when he told that she could invite anyone she wished, but secretly he hoped his mother would find something else to do on Saturday. He really didn't want to face her again so soon. He toyed with the idea of throwing the box in his desk drawer. He really didn't care what was in it. She probably found a tie or something of his and decided to send it down. Or worse yet, it would be some knick knack of an antique that she wanted them to have as a wedding present. Whatever it was, he didn't want it. The key in the door startled him and he jumped up to get the door. Dana was struggling with her own briefcase, a bag from the deli down the street and the mail that he had forgotten to pick up. "Thanks," she said leaning up to kiss him quickly before the packages spilled from her arms. "So what did you get us to eat?" he asked, eyeing the bag suspiciously. He was hoping for a cheeseburger, but knew that was outside the realm of even extreme possibility. He just prayed whatever was in the bag was light on sprouts and void of tofu. "I got you a reuben on marble rye," she said with a knowing grin. "It's as close to a cheeseburger as you're going to get for a few days. I'm watching your diet like a hawk, sweetheart. We still don't know what triggered your attack of whatever that was." She pulled out a big deli pickle and placed it on a plate. "I did make a few allowances, however," she said and gave him the plate. "I accept this as the peace offering it should be," he grumbled, but bit into the reuben with relish. She always managed to know what substitutes he was willing to accept. She handed him a glass of iced tea and carried her own plate out into the living room. The box was still sitting on the coffee table. "What's this?" she asked, holding up the box. He frowned. Now he would have to open it and deal with whatever it was. "It's from mom. Something old and not childproof, I'll wager," he offered by explanation. "Well, aren't you going to open it?" she asked. She handed him the box and looked at him in anticipation. He sighed and slowly unwrapped the brown paper. Leave it to his mother to still use butcher paper and shipping twine to wrap a package. Inside was a wash of wadded newspaper. Pulling the top layer out, he revealed a small faded velvet box and a stack of letters, tied with Christmas ribbon. He pulled out the box first, slowly opening it. In the box was a ring. A half caret diamond in an ornate, but old-fashioned setting. A note was tucked inside the lid. <> Dana had been reading over his shoulder and watched his face intently. "Which grandmother?" she asked quietly. "Grandma Mulder," he answered and picked the ring up off the velvet. "I remember her pretty well. She was a real neat lady. She died when I was about 10. Mom's right. She would have loved you, she'd want you to have it." He looked at her hesitantly. "I mean, it doesn't have to be your 'official' engagement ring. It's sort of old fashioned. I planned on buying you one that matches our bands, when we finally get them picked out." Dana took the slim gold ring in her hand. "I should get it re- enforced. It's so thin. But I love it. Would you mind if it _was_ my 'official' engagement ring," she asked shyly. He leaned over and took it out of her hand, placing it on her finger. "Don't let Skinner catch you wearing it to work," he teased and kissed her. She kissed him back and then held her hand so that the ring could sparkle in the light from the kitchen. "I can't wait to show Mom. What else is in the package?" Dana asked, not really caring too much at that point. The ring was more beautiful than any they could have found at a jewelry store. It was more than she could have hoped for. She looked up from her hand only when she realized he hadn't answered her question. "Mulder? What is it?" He was holding a set of envelopes in his hand. She glanced at them and saw they were all addressed to his mother, to an address in Chilimark. The return had the same address, but no name. "Who are they from?" she asked again. He cleared his throat before he spoke. When he did, his voice was strained. "They're from my dad," he said, still staring at the yellowed envelopes and the fading ink. "Why in the world would your mother send you letters your father wrote to her?" Dana puzzled, but she knew he wouldn't answer. She picked up the two empty plates and glasses and took them into the kitchen. "Ah, sweetheart, I'm going to take a bath. OK?" She felt he needed some time to himself. "Sure," was the soft reply, not more than a whisper. Sitting there in the darkening room, Mulder let his fingers play over the ribbon binding the letters together. It was the old ribbed kind of Christmas ribbon, and he knew his mother had wrapped them in it a long time ago. From glancing at the postmarks, the top letter was sent from Washington, in Dec. of 1963. He would have been just a little over two years old. Slowly, as if being manipulated by some outside force, he pulled the ribbon off the letters and opened the top one. "My darling Ann, I arrived safe and sound. The Dept. has me at the Hilton. It's a little more plush than what I'm used to. I hope one day I can bring you and little Fox down with me. I know he would love a trip to the zoo. They have the Panda exhibit finished. I think I might get him one of the stuffed pandas they are selling on every corner. I know you think I spoil him, but I do miss him so much. I plan on being home early on Saturday. I won't have to travel again until after the first of the year. We can get the tree on Sunday, if you think the weather will hold. I can't wait to see my buddy's face when we come home with a big tree. I want you to go out an buy plenty of ornaments. We won't have to scrimp this year. Remember to get some of the glass balls for the lower branches. Then Fox can lay under the tree and see the lights reflected off them. I think he'd like that. It's getting late and I have an early meeting, so I better get this down to the lobby to mail. I love you very much, Ann. I know these trips are hard on us, but it's nice to know that I can finally provide for the family. And I'll be home before you know it. Kiss my 'buddy' for me. Tell him that daddy will be home soon and bring him something special. Always, Bill" Closing his eyes didn't stop the flow of tears. She hadn't lied. His father really did love him as much as his mother had thought. The whole letter seemed wrapped up in his family, his wife, his son. But by the time Mulder could clearly remember, that man, the man who wrote of pandas and Christmas trees, had all but disappeared. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Mulder held the letters to his chest and allowed his head to fall to the back of the couch. "What happened, Daddy? What did they do to you?" the end