Title: Park Benches in Phoenix
Author: Gillian Leigh
Summary: From zero to fluffy in .2 seconds.
Spoilers: Requiem, but it's AU after that.
Disclaimer: They're not mine; I'm just borrowing them. (Thanks to Chris Carter for creating them! ))
Author's Notes: This is a one-shot deal that I wrote in about 30 minutes. Something inspired me. It's not beta-ed; it's not anything really. But it needed to be written. So here it is.
I woke up on a park bench in Arizona. I had no recollection of anything that happened to me after they had taken me. All I knew, was that I needed a shower, I was nowhere near Washington, and that I needed to see Scully.
The local newspaper told me that it was 2002; I'd missed two years. Two damn years. I scrounged up two quarters and found a payphone. I called the Bureau.
"Walter Skinner, please." I was connected by the pleasant operator, whose voice was new. Annabelle must have retired.
"Skinner."
"Skinner, it's me."
"Mulder? Oh my God. Where are you?"
Less than twenty-four hours later I was on a plane to Washington, D.C., sitting beside an astonished Walter Skinner.
"Do you remember anything?" he asked. I closed my eyes; I was unbelievably tired for a man who'd probably slept away the past two years on a spaceship.
"Nope. Everything before is there, but I don't remember anything after the forest in Oregon," I supplied. I asked the question I'd been waiting to bring up all day. "How's Scully? Still down in the basement without me?"
Skinner's look spoke volumes. He hesitated, and I felt my stomach clench. "Is she--?" I began, fearing the question. He gave a quick shake of his head.
"She's fine, Mulder. She just—Scully left the Bureau about six months after you went missing. She moved to Pennsylvania to be closer to her brother, Charlie. I haven't seen her in over a year."
I noticed the way he avoided my eyes. "There's something you're keeping from me."
"I think…I just think Scully should tell you everything herself." I felt the knot forming in my stomach, anticipating what I'd find when I found Scully.
I never pictured Scully for one to have a house in the Poconos. I stood on the sidewalk, with my hand shoved in my pockets, and glanced up at the house before me. It was modest, two stories, white with black shutters and a red door. I also never pictured Scully for a red door.
Steeling my nerves, I moved briskly up the walk, and knocked firmly on the door.
I heard a man's voice from inside. "Coming!" he called. There was that knot again. She'd found someone else. Moved on.
"Can I help you?" The man who opened the door was not what I expected. He was my height, but with brownish red hair and blue eyes. He was thin, but looked athletic. In fact, he looked an awful lot like Scully. In fact, he looked like he could be her brother…
"Charlie? Charlie who is it?" I felt my heart hammer at the sound of her voice. She came to the door, the Scully I remembered, except her hair was longer. She had a good-natured smile on her face… until she saw me, that is. The color went out of her face when she saw me at the door.
Charlie looked from me to his stunned sister, and back again. A spark of recognition crossed his face as he said, "Mulder?"
My response was truncated by the sound of his sister hitting the carpet as she fainted.
Welcome home.
Scully came to about five minutes later, and as her eyes fluttered open and she glanced up at me, all I wanted to do was kiss her.
"Mulder," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that you?"
"Did you miss me?" I teased, smiling warmly at her as I stroked her hair. Her response, quite the opposite of what I expected, was to burst into tears. She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder. It only took a moment before our lips met. I must have been delirious with joy, because I thought I heard a baby crying.
Scully had pulled me onto the couch with her at this point, and had her hands all over my body, as if she had to reacquaint herself with every inch of me. For me, luckily, it was as if no time had passed. I remembered vividly the times we were together—every moment. I'd have to remember to write a thank you to the responsible parties for leaving those memories intact.
"Not that I'm trying to be a killjoy or anything, but I think someone's hungry." Charlie's voice snapped me out of my reverie as Scully pulled away from me. I looked up to see Charlie holding a baby. Now I was just plain confused. Charlie was divorced. His kids would be ten or twelve by now. Whose baby was this?
When Scully reached up to take the baby, kissing his forehead, it was my turn to feel weak in the knees.
"Mulder," she said, turning to face me. "I'd like you to meet our son. This is Sam."
Oh. Son. Our son. My son.
Holy shit.
I expected at that moment to pass out, or maybe to throw up, but I did neither. Instead, I cried. I have a son. His name is Sam, and just like his mother, he is beautiful.
Author's Notes: Ah, fluff. My specialty. Who needs homework when you can write fluff? ) Thanks for reading, kids. I know it's been a while. But let's just say, it's a sign of things to come (I hope).
