Spoilers: Season 1, A/U after The Host
Summary: Mulder leaves the X-Files after The Host/Flukeman case, and a few months later gets an unexpected surprise from his ex-partner.
Author's Notes: I started yet another rewatch of XF episodes I like, and while watching The Host I was amused by noting the camera angles they used to hide GA's pregnancy. Then, later, when they were talking on the bench and Mulder threatened to leave the FBI, I thought, "what if he did and Scully was pregnant and he later found out?" And there you have a writer's thought processes in a nutshell. More author's notes at end.
My unending gratitude to beta Mimic117, who did an amazing job on a rough draft.
Dealbreaker
By Suzanne Feld
Rated PG-13
Despite his recent successes Mulder still spent most of his evenings either at home alone, in the Gunmen's lair, or at his favorite watering hole. Even after having given a talk on Bigfoot sightings in the Pacific Northwest at Lincoln Hall earlier that evening, he gravitated to Casey's afterward. Alone. As usual.
Being the up and coming wunderkind wasn't anything new for him—first college, then the FBI, now the lecture circuit—but then it hadn't paled, either. So why was he sitting at this big oak bar with a bunch of equally-lonely Washington suits who, apparently, also had nothing better to do on a Friday night? For that matter, why was he even still here? Without the FBI there was nothing to hold him to this area, he could live wherever he wanted to, and yet he hadn't even looked into moving elsewhere yet.
In the big mirror on the other side of the bar he saw a short redhead walk past behind him and for one brief moment, wished it was his spunky little ex-co-worker coming to drink with him. But Scully had stayed at the FBI when he'd left, and made it clear that she wasn't interested in him romantically. That still surprised him. Though he'd never been good at figuring out women, he'd been pretty sure up until she turned him down that she was equally interested in him.
The Fluke-man case had been the final straw. No matter who said what, in the end it was that kind of crap which made him walk away. Scully had reamed him out when he'd told her he was giving up, going on and on about what a great career he could have had and so on, but his mind had been made up and he'd walked away from it all without a look back. The vague promise of a "friend" at the FBI wasn't enough to make him stay when he knew he was nothing more than a joke these days.
"Is that Spooky? It is! Spooky Mulder!"
He turned bleary-eyed towards the stocky man who plopped on the empty stool next to him. His eidetic memory was both a curse and a blessing, more of a curse in this case. "Colton. Couldn't you have pretended you didn't see me?"
The smaller man swatted him on the back, and Mulder idly considered shooting that arm off. Luckily he no longer carried a firearm. "So I hear congratulations are in order. You're one lucky dog."
Mulder took a swig of his third Scotch and soda, feeling the tingling burn of the alcohol grow in his extremities, but he wasn't drunk enough for this. A few lectures and a book deal and he was suddenly Tom Colton the Pilgarlic Asshole's best friend. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Hell yes it is! You know we all tried to tap that during the Academy, and she wasn't known as the Ice Queen for nothing. I heard she was doing one of her instructors at Quantico after graduation but I was in VCS by then."
"Colton, I don't know what in the hell you're talking about, so go away," Mulder grumbled with a frown. He rested his forearms on the edge of the bar and cupped his almost-empty glass, wondering if he could manage one more and still find his way home.
"What, you embarrassed you knocked her up?" Mulder glanced to the side and noted that Colton was leering. He'd never seen anyone actually leer before but it was pretty unmistakable—and grotesque, to be honest. "We're all jealous. How'd you get her fine ass in the sack?"
Mulder finally snapped. "What the fuck!" Heads turned around them, but he ignored them. He swiveled on the stool, bracing one hand against the bar, and snarled, "What in the hell are you talking about?"
Colton stopped leering and looked alarmed, then surprised. "Dana. Dana Scully. I heard you guys were getting it on and havin' a kid."
Mulder stared at him blankly. It was so far from what he'd expected or thought to hear that it took a few seconds to register. "Scully? My ex-partner Scully? We never did anything. She wouldn't even go out with me after I left the FBI."
Colton looked almost comically surprised. "That's not what I heard. I saw her in the hallway at Quantico last week and she's damn sure knocked up. I asked around and apparently she's telling everyone it's your kid. It isn't?"
Speechless, Mulder just stared at him as he processed the words. He started to reiterate that he didn't know anything about it but even his whiskey-soaked brain realized that if Scully really was saying something like that, she must have a good reason. If she was pregnant he knew it wasn't his, there was no way it could be, but Scully was a meticulously honest and forthright person so he had to find out why she was saying such a thing before he did anything else.
Completely ignoring Colton, who was still earnestly babbling at him, Mulder threw a few bills on the bar and stood up, relieved that he was more or less steady on his feet, and went to get his jacket from the rack just inside the door. Once outside the bar, the cold autumn air helped clear his mind as he began to walk. It was a good thing that Colton didn't follow him, he thought, or he may have finished out the night in a jail cell for striking an idiot who happened to be a federal officer. He had taken a cab to the bar from the lecture hall, but it was only a few blocks' walk to his apartment. Though he wanted to confront Scully ASAP, he knew it was better if he was stone cold sober when he did. He had to see her in person to verify what Colton said, though somehow he didn't doubt the little prick.
# # #
He didn't sleep well that night, waking several times from nightmares stemming from some of their odder cases, and in all of them Scully was enormously pregnant and he couldn't protect her. He'd never thought of her as someone to protect because he knew she could take care of herself, and this new perception was unsettling. He finally got up around dawn, chucked a few aspirin in his mouth, washed them down with week-old orange juice from the otherwise-empty fridge, and threw his shoes on. It was too early for even Scully to be up, but the bagel place down the street opened at 5 am. He knew that a cup or two of their good strong Columbian coffee and as many bites of a plain bagel as he could manage would put paid to the hangover.
Two hours later he was fed, showered, dressed and, while still feeling vaguely headachy and grainy and tired, was ready to find out what was going on. He had planned to spend most of this Saturday working on his book, a nonfiction account of abnormal physiology based on the X-files that he and Scully had worked, but knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate. May as well go get it over with, he thought as he scooped his car keys off the table in the entranceway and headed for the door. For better or for worse.
His timing was impeccable. As he pulled up across the street from her building, he saw Scully walking up the block carrying a small plastic grocery sack and nearly choked on his own saliva. Though his nightmares had had her pretty hugely pregnant, it was nothing on the real deal. Maybe it was because she was such a small woman, but her belly looked almost grotesquely swollen, probably since the rest of her was just as delicate and thin as she had been before. The way she waddled towards her apartment building was almost comical. As he got out of his car Mulder did some quick mental arithmetic and realized that she had probably already been pregnant when he'd left the FBI, or she was having quintuplets. By the size of her it could be the latter anyway.
He waited until she was up the steps and reaching for the outer door handle before he jogged across the street and walked up behind her. "So I guess it's true, I am about to become a daddy," he said drily as he stopped behind her.
Scully whirled around, the hand clutching her keys going to her enlarged chest as her long, tan wool coat swirled around her legs. "Jesus, Mulder, you scared the hell out of me!" she scolded, and then her eyes widened with realization as they met his. "Oh, shit."
He took her in, noting how flushed and beautiful she was despite the giant protruding belly covered by a draping blouse that didn't hide one bit of it. He'd never thought much about pregnant women before, or having kids, but he had to admit that it looked good on her. Especially her boobs, which appeared to have increased at least two sizes and he was having trouble keeping his eyes away from. "You could say that," he rumbled, looking her up and down openly. "So, is what Colton told me true? Am I the father, or do I have to take you on Jerry Springer to get the truth?"
Her face went crimson and she looked embarrassed, and for a moment he was afraid she'd cry. That was the last thing he was prepared for from Scully, but this was clearly not the same capable, independent federal agent he had worked with for nearly a year. "Colton? Tom Colton? I haven't seen him since that crazy fluke-man case," she said in a tremulous voice, avoiding his eyes. "I don't know what he told you, but—"
"He congratulated me on becoming a father," Mulder said bluntly, but not unkindly. God, he didn't want her to cry. "Apparently everyone at the FBI thinks we're shacking up and doing the white picket fence thing."
"I haven't said anything like that, Mulder, not to anyone," she said fiercely, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were such a clear bright blue; he hadn't remembered quite just how stunning she was, baby or no baby. "People could have assumed…"
"If I may ask, then, who is the father?" he said and if it was possible, her blush deepened. "We both know it's not me, though I certainly wouldn't have minded being in on the creation."
She ducked her head for a moment, her deep auburn hair shining in the early morning autumn sunlight with glints of gold. "Would you like to come up for a cup of coffee?" she said, looking back at him with a neutral expression on her face, the blush already fading. "I'd rather not go into it out here, and besides my feet swell if I'm on them for more than a couple of minutes."
"Sure," he said, then followed her into the building, amusing himself by watching her late-pregnancy waddle from behind.
Once inside her apartment she pointed him to the kitchen as she set the sack on the long table behind the couch. "Give me a sec, I'll—"
"You sit; I'll make the coffee—I remember where everything is if you haven't moved it in the last six months." Mulder took off his black leather jacket and hung it over the back of one of the round-backed dining room chairs.
She gave him a wry, close-mouthed smile as she shrugged off her coat, hanging it in the big wooden cabinet behind the door. She then waddled to the kitchen, pulling it out a chair and easing into it with a whistled sigh of relief. Her hair, longer than he'd ever seen it, fell around her shoulders like an auburn waterfall, curling just above the tops of her full breasts. She was wearing a pair of blue slacks under a loose blue-and-white plaid maternity shirt, which was so long that it fell halfway down her thighs even with the giant belly out front. "Thanks, I'll take you up on that and no, everything's where it's always been. I had no idea you learned the layout of my kitchen so well in the few months we worked together. By the way I only have decaf, I can't have regular right now."
He tapped the side of his faintly-aching head as he reached for the Mr. Coffee carafe with the other hand. "Eidetic memory, remember? My curse and my blessing."
"Ah, yes. So. What exactly did Tom Colton tell you?"
On one hand he was surprised at her directness, but on the other-now this was the Dana Scully he remembered. As he filled the carafe with water and then the basket from her stash of Starbucks pre-ground decaf Sumatra he repeated the conversation, ending with, "I figured I'd better wait until I was sober and convinced myself that it wasn't a drunken dream before I talked to you."
She heaved a sigh, resting one elbow on the table and chin in hand. "Okay, I'll tell you exactly what's going on, you deserve that much after being bushwhacked by Colton."
Mulder leaned back against the counter, hands braced behind him, as the coffeemaker began to burble and drip.
"So… while I was in med school I started seeing one of my professors, who I kept dating after I graduated, and did my residency in the same hospital where he worked. When I got interested in the FBI he didn't like it and tried to stop me, so I broke it off and moved away. Well, a few weeks before you left the FBI, I ran into him at a pathology conference and well, one thing led to another—a 'for old times' sake' thing." She was blushing again, he noted, but her clear blue eyes were steady on his. "I'm sure he doesn't want anything to do with this baby." She paused and sighed, watching him closely. "I know it's his, there's no one else's that it can be, but I'm not going to push it. It wouldn't do anyone any good."
Mulder felt anger rising, and wanted to feel his fist smash into this asshole's face even though he'd never met the man and didn't even know who he was. Still… "Didn't you, ah, use… protection?" he asked almost hesitantly.
"Yeah, but after I found out I was pregnant I went and looked at the packet of condoms left in my purse and they had expired in October of 1992," she sighed. "I guess they have an expiration date for a reason."
"Never knew that, but I'll keep it in mind," he said just as the Mr. Coffee signaled its finish with a gurgling, burbling finale. She continued to talk as he got mugs down and served the coffee.
"I hadn't even decided on whether or not I wanted kids but I wouldn't consider an abortion; this was my responsibility. Still, that didn't mean I had to tell anyone what had really happened, it's no one else's business."
"So how did everyone at the FBI come to assume the kid's mine?" he asked carefully, without any anger or annoyance though he had been feeling both before confronting her. Her honesty was going a long way to calm him; had she denied it completely he would have been a lot more pissed off, though he still wasn't too pleased with having been ambushed by Tom Colton, of all people.
She shook her head slightly, looking down at her cup as she curled her hands around it. "I notified Skinner that I was pregnant once I was sure, and put in for my maternity leave. He asked me if it had anything to do with you leaving the FBI and I said no, but maybe too forcefully," she admitted. "No one else ever outright asked me but I suspect that's how it got started."
"So you heard the rumors?"
"Yeah, a few times, when people thought I couldn't hear them, saying things like 'check out baby Spooky' and things like that. I guess I should have told you, but I never thought it'd get back to you."
He nodded, mulling everything over. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the ticking of the butcher-block clock over the fridge. Finally, he said, "How far along are you?"
She leaned back and framed her bulging stomach with both hands, smiling beatifically. "Thirty-nine weeks, in fact I'm due any time now. I know the exact date I got pregnant and up to a week before and after is perfectly normal." Then she put her hands back on the mug and looked over at him, a rather sad expression in her eyes now. "I'm sorry you heard about it that way, Mulder. I should have called and told you, and set everyone straight."
"Aha… so that's why you wouldn't go out with me after I left the Bureau," he said with dawning comprehension.
She nodded. "Exactly. I've wanted to talk to you since, I just didn't know what to say. I have missed you, and our never-boring conversations."
He didn't dare admit that he thought about her all the time, and that the only reason he hadn't called her before this was because she had convinced him that she didn't want anything to do with him when he left the FBI. "It's been odd not to be argued with at every turn," he agreed, smiling over at her.
"So what are you doing now? Did you decide to go into clinical psychology?" she asked with a smile in return, then took a sip of her decaf, which was more milk than anything else.
"Actually no, I pitched a book idea to a few publishers and one took me up on it," Mulder said. "And I'm doing the lecture circuit as an expert on the paranormal and abnormal."
She jumped and put both hands on her belly. At his quizzical look she explained, "Baby's kicking. I shouldn't be drinking even decaf coffee but I indulge myself now and then, although I have to stop completely after the birth because I plan to breast-feed."
He had never felt a baby moving inside a woman and his innate curiosity won out. "Could I… could I feel it?" he asked a bit hesitantly. This was very personal, but who knew if he'd ever get another chance.
"Of course!" She grinned, clearly tickled that he asked. Her smile was so wide that the dimples at the corners of her mouth showed, which he had rarely seen when they were partners. She was so lovely it almost hurt him to look at her.
Mulder leaned forward and reached out. She took his hands to put them low on her stomach. Right away he felt a lump move across his palm. He jumped, startled, and grinned back at her. "Wow! Strong little thing." Another bump poked his fingers, then slid away. "That is amazing. I've never felt anything like that before," he admitted as he slid his hands out from beneath hers and sat back. "Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"
"I wanted to be surprised, but the last ultrasound tech inadvertently showed me his testes," she said, still smiling. "So yeah, it's a boy."
It was suddenly surreal, sitting here with Scully discussing her pregnancy and feeling the baby move, and utterly overwhelming. He felt so out of whack and the situation so bizarre that he needed to leave. "Well, that was, uh, cool but I have to go," he said, taking a last gulp of the excellent coffee despite being decaf and getting up so hastily that he almost knocked the chair over, catching it at the last second. "Got some chapters due next week, gotta get 'em done."
Though she had looked a little baffled when he suddenly leaped up, now Scully relaxed and smiled as she slowly rose, bracing herself on the table and pushing herself up belly-first. His first impulse was to help, but he made himself stop; the whole situation was too bizarre and he needed to process it all.
"Well, I'm just glad you're not angry at me," Scully said, looking up at him as he shrugged into his leather jacket. "I wouldn't blame you if you were."
"Nah, I was more confused than anything," Mulder said honestly, edging towards the door. "Thanks for the coffee, and let's, uh, stay in touch."
To his surprise, she reached out and hugged him around the waist, her hard belly pressing lightly against his lower stomach. After a moment of indecision, he hugged her back gently, arms around her shoulders. She was so tiny without her usual three-inch heels that her head didn't even reach his chin. Then he found that he didn't want to let go, pressing his cheek against her silky-soft hair and inhaling the gentle floral scent of shampoo. It wasn't often these days he touched another person or was touched, and it felt so good he didn't want the moment to end although he knew it had to.
They let go simultaneously and smiled at each other, then Scully said, "I'll email you. I'd like us to be friends."
That cemented his certainty that she hadn't spread rumors to try and get him to be her baby-daddy; it had crossed his mind, especially when he had his hands on her belly. Suddenly he didn't want to leave, but it was too late for that. "Of course," he said easily. "Now that I know you don't dislike me as much as you made it seem when I left, you'll have a hard time getting rid of me."
She blushed but was still smiling. "I'm glad you understand why I did that."
Mulder nodded, reluctantly reaching for the doorknob. "Hey, want to have dinner?" he said impulsively. "After I get a few chapters out, that is." He really did need to work on his book, that was no lie.
Her beautiful face lit up, the flush fading to just her cheeks. "That would be nice, I don't get out much these days," she said. "Give me a call when you're ready to go. I really shouldn't be driving, so if you don't mind picking me up…?"
"Of course," he said, making himself open the door with the promise of seeing her again. "Later, Scully."
"Later, Mulder."
# # #
He had a hard time concentrating but understood that time would pass faster if he kept busy. Instead of trying to write, however, he went through his research material and copies of the FBI case files he had made before leaving and got it all ready for when he was able to focus, then edited the previous two chapters.
At six he couldn't wait any longer and called her. "Mulder! Thought you'd changed your mind." Her amused voice came through the line. "We still on for tonight? I'm starving already."
"You know it," he said. "I was thinking… up for a bit of a drive?"
"How far? I can't ride in a car too long in this condition."
"I was thinking about going to The Statesman, but if that's too far—"
"No, that's fine, I thought you meant longer," she said with relief. "Pick me up in half an hour."
Mulder hung up smiling, glad she's been just as excited about going out as he was. Though he wasn't sure he wanted to get involved with a woman who had a baby, he did want to be around Scully so he'd have to make up his mind eventually. Seeing her had made him realize just how much he'd really missed her. The Statesman had been their favorite restaurant in D.C., though it was a twenty-minute drive from the Hoover and twice that from either of their apartments.
She was waiting on the front stoop when he arrived, looking bright and pretty in a soft purple dress that fell just above her knees and a short black wool jacket. He helped her into his car, the seat all the way back, eyeing her belly and hoping she wouldn't go into labor while they were out. But she wouldn't have gone if that was a possibility, would she? Probably not, he mused as he walked around the back of the car, then got in. And promptly forgot about the possibility in getting reacquainted with her as they chatted all the way to the restaurant.
He was surprised at how much she ate, though it was barely half his dinner. Still, she had previously eaten like a bird, seeming to live on salads and water half the time. Now she ate half a plate of lasagna, her entire green salad, and ordered a piece of chocolate cake for dessert though most of it got boxed up to go.
"This was really nice, Mulder, thank you," she said as they walked through the restaurant, one tiny hand tucked through his elbow. He knew that everyone watching them probably assumed that they were married and that the baby she was carrying was his. Though it probably should have, the thought didn't bother him. Was his bachelorhood in jeopardy? Possibly, possibly, he thought with some amusement.
"You're very welcome, Scully, it was nice to be out with someone for a change. I always seem to be alone these days," he said, then realized how insensitive that sounded and tried to backpedal as he held the door open for her. "I mean, not just because—"
"I know what you mean, Mulder, no worry." She smiled up at him as she went past and out into the cold autumn night. Then he saw her grimace and put a hand to her back.
"You okay?" he said, looking down at her with concern as she paused on the sidewalk outside the building.
"Yeah, my back's been killing me the last couple of days, but that's normal during late pregnancy. The weight in front pulls at the muscles," she said, once again taking his arm as they headed down the sidewalk to where his car was parked. "I might go to the doctor—OH!"
She stopped so suddenly that he took another step and her hand slipped out of his elbow. When he turned back she was standing with her legs spread apart and staring downwards. Even in the dimness, broken only by the lights of the restaurant behind them and one streetlight a few feet away, he saw the large dark spot between her feet. "Did—"
"Ah, shit. Yes. My water just broke. Now don't panic, Mulder—"
"I'm not panicking. This isn't my panic face, trust me." His heart was pounding merrily away but he forced himself to stay calm. This was a normal human function and she wasn't about to drop the baby on its head on the sidewalk… was she? "Tell me what to do."
She began to walk again, her legs straddled a bit more so that her waddle was even more pronounced. "Just get me to your car and take me to the hospital. It's St Mary's over on Higgins Avenue. Don't worry, first babies take forever so it's not like I'm going to give birth in your car."
Ten minutes later she screamed, "Drive faster, Mulder, oh dear God, I think I'm about to have him right here in your car!"
Mulder pushed the gas a little more but they were already doing fifty in a thirty-five and he didn't dare go any faster. Luckily they were almost to the hospital and Scully had called ahead on her cellular to let them know that she was on the way.
Once there they whisked her away but not before she gave Mulder her purse and cell, and instructed him to call everyone in her address book and let them know where she was, her mother first. He explained to the nurses that he was just a friend who had driven her, not the father (though one gave him a dirty look at that, as if he was lying) and he was not going in the delivery room under any circumstances. He would be anticipating the outcome in the maternity waiting room with the rest of her family when they arrived.
He got answering machines at the first three numbers, then reached a relative and had what was possibly one of the most awkward conversations of his life and, at that point, gave up on the calls. He'd left a message for her mother and sister at least, and that should be good enough, he thought as he hit "end" and tossed her cellular on the hard plastic seat next to him. Jesus Christ, I just wanted to have dinner with her, not spend my entire night in a hospital, he thought crossly, then made himself calm down. Not her fault she went into labor, and you knew this could happen. The least you can do is wait until someone from her family gets here, then pass the baton and go home.
Every time someone walked past the doorway he looked up expectantly, but he remained the lone occupant of the room until almost an hour later. He was perusing an ancient issue of People which had caught his attention since Farrah Fawcett was on the cover when he looked up to see a doctor in bloodstained scrubs leaning though the doorway. "Are you Fox Mulder, here with Dana Scully?" he asked.
Mulder stood, tossing the magazine on top of Scully's purse and phone. "Yeah, how is—"
"Not good—she began hemorrhaging after the birth and they're having a hard time stopping it. She wants to see you, and you need to hurry," he said. Mulder was frozen, shocked. "Come on, man, move it!"
Leaving the purse and phone on the chair he hurried after the doctor, though he had no wish to see Scully dying, if that was what was happening. Why had he stayed? Why hadn't he left? Why in God's name did she want to see him now?!
They trotted down a long hallway and then through a set of wide double doors which swung open at their approach. They paused so he could put on a face mask and gloves, then he followed the doctor into an operating room just a few feet away. He was assaulted by the bright lights, the sound of a baby wailing, the thick copper smell of blood, and most of all by Scully laying prone on a partially reclined operating table, her face sheet-white but her eyes open and looking at him as he entered the room. He hurried around the doctors and nurses working on her to stand by her head, taking her outstretched hand and leaning over to hear her faint voice. "Mulder. Thank God. Listen, I need to tell you— "
"Hey, you'll be fine— "
"Not sure about that, so just shut up and listen, okay?"
He gazed down into her blue eyes, now clouded and desperate. "Okay, what?"
"The baby's father's name is Daniel Waterston. If I don't make it you need to find him and tell him that William is his son, he needs to know." Scully's hand tightened on his, but it was still so faint he could barely feel her grip. Jesus, was he watching her die? "Promise me, Mulder, promise!"
What the fuck? Was she saying that she hadn't told the kid's father? He thought back to their conversation in her apartment earlier and sure enough, she'd only said that she was sure he didn't want anything to do with the baby—not that she'd told him about it. "Okay, Scully, I will, don't worry."
"Okay, good. Did you—"
"Your mother's here, Miss Scully, do you want to see her?" A nurse came up beside them.
"Yes! God, yes! Thank you, Mulder."
"You'll be fine, Scully," he said, then leaned down and brushed back her sweaty hair, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead before letting himself be led away, passing a short woman with graying black hair, a mask also over her face, on the way out.
Back in the waiting room he found it half-full, and by the amount of redheads among the group he guessed that they were Scully's relatives. A tall woman with a mop of rufous hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, in a loose gauzy dress and a black choker, came over to him as he was gathering up Scully's stuff from the orange plastic chair. "Are you here with Dana Scully?" she asked hesitantly. "Isn't that her purse?"
"Yes, I'm Fox Mulder, we used to work together," he said with great relief; the cavalry had arrived. "You are…?"
"Melissa, her sister." They shook hands and he wasn't surprised that her grip was strong, businesslike. Though he knew from Scully that she could be a bit of a flake, she had a direct gaze that belied her reputation. "How is she?"
"Not good, I think," he said hesitantly, handing over the purse and phone. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more, they said she was hemorrhaging but not how badly." He didn't want to tell her what Scully had entrusted him with, assuming that she had meant it for his ears alone. "Listen, I'm really sorry I have to go, but can you give me a call later and let me know how she is?"
"Did… did the baby make it?" she asked fearfully, her eyes wary.
"All I can tell you is that he was screaming his head off when I was in there," Mulder said honestly. "Sorry—gotta run."
Without another word he turned and hurried out, never having taken off his jacket. He had to get out of there, between knowing that Scully could be dying just a few doors away and the shock of what she'd told him overloading his brain—yet again. He was halfway home before he realized what the smell in his car was, and nearly threw up his expensive dinner at the thought as he madly rolled down the driver's side window. After some searching he found a 24-hour party store and bought some overpriced cleaning supplies, rubbing down the seat with bleach wipes and spraying it with Lysol right in the parking lot. Once the smell was gone he felt a lot better.
At home, he put the restaurant bag with Scully's leftover dinner and dessert in his fridge, then went into the living room and sank down on the couch with head in hands. A few tears hit the hardwood floor between his feet, but Mulder's mind was such a swirling, eddying mass of confusion that he didn't care, or quite know why, he was crying.
# # #
He was yanked out of an uneasy sleep by the burring of his cell phone, which was on the coffee table next to the couch where he had dozed off sometime in the early hours. "Mulder," he mumbled into the hard plastic.
"Fox Mulder? This is Melissa Scully, we talked at the hospital yesterday?"
He came instantly awake and sat up, swinging his bare feet to the floor. "How is she?" he asked almost fearfully.
"She made it though it was a near thing, and she's still not out of the woods," her sister's tired voice said. "But the baby's fine and Dana's resting in ICU at the moment. I just wanted to call and thank you for staying with her until we got there."
"Yeah, well, least I could do," Mulder mumbled, scrubbing at his prickly face with one hand. "Thanks for calling."
"Hey… wait. I hate to ask this, but is he your baby?" Melissa said hesitantly. "She would never say who the father was."
Again? "No, I didn't even know she was pregnant until two days ago when an ex-coworker told me," Mulder said honestly, hoping she wouldn't ask him if he knew who it was. "I went to see her and took her out to dinner, and she went into labor right after we left the restaurant."
"Oh. I see. Well, thanks again."
"Can you call me when she wakes up?" Mulder refused to say "if" though it did cross his mind. "I'd like to see her when she's feeling better."
"Sure. I'm calling you from her cell phone, so I have your number."
He pushed down the antenna and hit the OFF button, then rolled back onto the couch and fell into a deeper, more restful sleep now that his mind was at ease.
# # #
He found Room 288 easily and peered around the doorway, relieved to find Scully sitting up in bed and alone. He did not want to have this conversation with anyone else around, especially not her mother or sister.
"Hey, congrats Mom," he said as he walked through the doorway, bringing the bouquet of flowers he'd bought at the gift store downstairs out from behind his back when he reached the bed. "I hear you have one whopper of a kid."
"Eight pounds nine ounces." Scully smiled up at him, setting aside the magazine she'd been reading when he walked in. She was wearing a pretty, flowered pink nightgown and it was all he could do not to stare at the scooped neck where her rounded boobs were about falling out. "No wonder my poor body almost gave up the ghost."
He winced, but she was looking at the flowers and didn't see it. He set them on the windowsill among several other vases and containers of both flowers and plants, and went around the bed to sit in the chair next to it. "So how are you feeling?"
"Not bad, considering," she said, her smile fading. "I guess it was a pretty close thing. I'm sorry I ruined our nice time out, Mulder."
"What? Seriously? Other than you almost dying, that was the most excitement I've had since I left the FBI," he said. "I ate your food, though."
She laughed, then clutched her stomach through the starched white sheet. "God, stop, I'm still sore," she mock-scolded, eyes bright on his. "I'm glad you came, Mulder."
He smiled back, and it was dawning on him that perhaps she didn't remember what she'd told him. Did she even remember him being in the delivery room? "Well, I had to make sure you were doing better than the last time I saw you," he said as a test.
"Yeah, waddling into the hospital dribbling and swearing was not my finest hour." Her cheeks turned pink. "I hope you can forget having seen that."
"It's forgotten," he said easily. If she really didn't remember he wasn't going to remind her, and if she was pretending then she was one fine actress. Either way, he decided to go with that it hadn't happened as well, and just move on. When he recalled their conversation in her kitchen he realized that she had never lied to him, and apparently never told her family either so she hadn't been hiding it from just him. So why bring it up? "So when do they spring you outta here?"
"Normally it's a day or two, but they want to keep me longer just in case, and the baby has to stay with me since there's no one at home to take him," she said, looking down and worrying the edge of the sheet over her much-reduced belly with both hands. "Listen, Mulder…"
He waited a few beats, then prompted, "Yes…?"
"What I told you in the delivery room… I hope you won't think less of me for not telling him, or you, or my family, but I do have good reason."
Mulder stared speechlessly at her downturned face; she did remember!
"What happened is that the next morning, after our 'reunion' night, I found out that Dan had moved here to D.C. and been following me," she said, low, still not looking up at him. "He wanted to get back with me, and he'd left his… wife… to do so. I had originally left him because when I found out he was married, he tried to stay with her and have me on the side."
Mulder was floored. Not only hadn't she told the father, he was married?! He never would have guessed that of strong, proud, truthful Dana Scully. Huh.
"I put up with it for a few months but once I realized that he wasn't leaving her, I left my residency at Boston General. I moved to D.C. and joined the FBI; the rest you know." She glanced up at him, then back down at her lap, hands still folding the edge of the sheet. "Then after our night together he told me he'd left his wife and wanted to be with me, and I realized what a mistake that would be. Also that anyone who would move almost five hundred miles for a relationship without even contacting the other person wasn't right in the head. He threatened to go to the FBI and invoke the morals clause so I'd lose my job, and I threatened him right back with going to the AMA." She paused and reached for the covered cup on the rolling table on the other side of the bed, took a sip from the straw and then held it with both hands on her belly. "We both said some pretty nasty things, but then he threatened me physically and that was the last straw. I told him that if I ever saw him again I'd swear out a restraining order and I think that did it. I kept an eye on him after that and he moved back to his wife and Boston, and hasn't come near D.C. since that I know of. I almost moved, then decided I wasn't going to be chased out of my home." She looked at him again, this time holding his eyes with her sad, serious ones. "I hope you understand, Mulder. I imagine you must think a lot less of me now."
Oddly enough, he didn't and told her so. "No, come on, Scully, we're all human. Pobody's nerfect, not even moi." That got a ghost of a smile. "If you don't want him to know, your reasons are good enough to keep my lip zipped."
She breathed out a sign of relief and gave him a sweet close-mouthed smile. "Thank you, Mulder. You're a better friend than I deserve."
"None of that, now." He took the hand she stretched out, holding on the edge of the bed rail. "What d'ya say we move on from here? Forget all the rest."
"Sounds good to me," she agreed. Just then a nurse came though the doorway, pushing a bassinette with a whimpering, wriggling blue-wrapped bundle in it.
"Miss Scully? Someone is ready for his lunch."
She sat up straighter, smiling eagerly and set the cup aside. "I thought it was getting to be that time."
The nurse looked over at Mulder as she picked up the baby. "Is this the dad? Do you want him to stay for the feeding?"
Before Scully could reply Mulder said, "Yes, yes I am." He winked at Scully and almost laughed out loud at her stunned expression.
"Would you like to hold him before he eats?" the nurse asked, pausing on the other side of the bed with the baby, who was going from whimpering to outright crying, in her arms.
Total panic filled Mulder's brain and he was speechless, staring at the tiny pink hand wiggling outside the bundle of blankets.
"No, give him here, I'm about to explode," Scully said, saving him. "But can you help me with the blanket? I'm not too good at this just yet," she added with a stern look at Mulder. Oh yeah, she knew what he'd hoped to see.
Once the nurse had left and the baby was comfortably nursing underneath a small blue blanket tossed over Scully's shoulder, she turned to him. "What was that all about, Mulder? Do you really want people thinking you're the baby's father?"
"Well, not everyone, but it'll help stop the questions around here," he said. "Besides, I want to stay friends with you, Scully, and I guess we'll have to get used to hearing it."
"In that case, I suppose you should start calling me Dana," she said drily, but her smile belied her tone. "And I could call you… Fox?"
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. "What if we'd gotten the X-Files back? We wouldn't be here now, would we?" Mulder smiled at her. Baby or no baby, the bottom line was that he wanted to be with her. The kid wasn't what he'd planned on, but he wasn't a dealbreaker either.
"Who said I didn't?" At his shocked look Scully—Dana—smiled smugly. "What do you think I've been doing at the FBI since you left, Mulder? You need to stay in touch with the things—and people—who matter."
…and his life was complete.
Finis
More Notes: For those who may think that Scully had her baby awfully fast, my longest labor was four hours—with my first one. Apparently I was in "back labor" for two days before that and didn't know it. Also, I don't know if the FBI has a morality clause or not, I wasn't able to find out doing research online, so let it stand as a plot device. Otherwise everything was as researched and close to canon (including later episodes) as I could possibly get it.