TITLE: Vulpecula V-VIII
AUTHOR: jeri
E-MAIL: ggal1116@yahoo.com OR agentjeri@thexfiles.com
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/index/html
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: SRA, S-POV
KEYWORDS: MSR/M, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst, Babyfic
SPOILERS: Requiem
ARCHIVE: Sure, just drop me a line!
STARTED: June 10, 2000
FINISHED: June 23, 2000
CONTAINS: Promises, Promises; The Immortal; Domestication;
and Honeymoon on the AD.
**DISCLAIMER: The names you recognize belong to
CC and his crew. Veronica Durant and Alexis are
mine, so please don't use them without consulting
me first. Enjoy!
^*^*^
V - Promises, Promises
[[Less than a week after Mulder's return, he's
forced to face the family]]
May 28, 2001
6:03 a.m.
It is with much pleasure that I ignore my son's
cries and roll over in bed. No need to get up yet:
Daddy can change that diaper!
Mulder hasn't even been home for a week yet --
it's a week tomorrow -- but he's already turned
into a SuperDaddy! whenever Adam requires assistance.
He's offered several times to work the breast pump
himself so he can share in the 2 a.m. feedings.
Since we have yet to be alone, it's the most intimate
we've been.
On that topic, Mulder is really torn. I can see in
his eyes just how much he wants me, and I know I
reflect that desire. But while I'm used to letting
Mom take Adam during the day while I work, Mulder
is still getting to know his baby boy. He cherishes
every moment he gets with Adam, and there's no way
I can deny him those moments.
So, I wait it out. I've waited a whole year, and
except for our two months before he was abducted,
eight whole years before that. I can hold out for
another week or two. I hope it's not two.
"Hey buddy! Good morning! You got a stinky diaper?
Huh, do ya? I think you... phew! Oh yeah, you do!
Let's clean that mess up, whaddya say?"
I smile at Mulder's babbling. The first day or two
that was his biggest problem. He just didn't know
how to talk to a five-month-old baby. But when I
came home from work on Thursday, he had it down
pat. When you're all alone with a baby, you quickly
learn how to carry a conversation.
"Geeze Adam, what did you eat last night? You sneak
out for a 4 a.m. snack? 'Cause that bottle at two-
thirty shouldn't have caused that much toxic waste."
I listen to Adam coo in response to his father's
gentle voice. I think Adam must already have
figured out the difference between Mommy and Daddy,
because he never stops crying for me in the morning
until he's fed. With Mulder he calms down as soon
as his butt's wiped up. And as soon as I sit up,
he starts crying for his liquid breakfast.
I feel the bed next to me sag as Mulder settles
down behind me, and I know he's put Adam between
us. Carefully, I roll over to say good morning.
"Morning baby," I murmur to Adam, placing a kiss
on his forehead.
"Morning pookie," Mulder responds. I can hear the
smirk in his voice.
"Not you. I was talking to our son." I smile despite
myself, leaning over to give him a chaste, but
meaningful, kiss on his lips.
"So was I," he retorts. "To you I say, 'Good
morning, beautiful.'" He takes the hand that has
been stroking Adam's cheeks and raises it to his
lips, kissing each knuckle in turn. It's times
like this when I wish we'd had a bit more time
together before having a baby. Oh well, beggars
can't be choosers.
"You won't be saying that when I tell you what we
have to do today," I admit, wondering if he remembers.
He groans and throws his head back. "Scully..."
Ah. He remembers.
"Mulder, I told you what Billy said when I told
them, didn't I?" Mulder frowns and shakes his head.
"No? Oh, I thought I did. Well, basically..." I'm
cut off by a hungry boy who's suddenly realized
that the food mobile is open for business. I gather
Adam up in my arms and he attaches himself to my
breast. I look back at Mulder and realize that
he's jealous of his son. "Mulder, about Billy."
He brings his focus from my breast to my face.
"He's gonna kill me," he whines.
"No, he's not. When I told them all about Adam and
Adam's father, Billy just accepted it. He said
that, the next time he saw you, he was just going
to warn you that you better take care of us. I'm
pretty sure Tara talked some sense into him."
Mulder scootches closer to me. "I always did like
your sister-in-law," he mumbled.
I grimace. "Well, you may like Tara, but I don't
think you'll be too fond of Saundra, Charlie's
wife. Neither Tara nor I can stand her, but everyone
else thinks she's just peachy. She's a stereotypical
rich Southern Belle who knows everything about
everyone and isn't afraid to talk about any of it."
I can hear the eye-roll in Mulder's voice. "Oh
goody. Just my type. Sounds like the kids up at
the Vineyard. The kind that avoided me like the
plague after Sam was taken."
"Oh yeah, she'll hate you. You're just the kind
of guy she used to go for, and the kind who
invariably dumped her for someone worthy of their
time."
"So, how'd Charlie end up with her?"
I shrug. "Right place, right time of month, I guess."
Mulder looks at me oddly, so I explain, "Shotgun
wedding. Remember that when she starts whispering
about our illegitimate child. Jason was only
legitimate by two weeks."
Mulder's eyes look away from me, and I realize
that I may have insinuated something that wasn't
meant to come up in casual conversation yet.
"Mulder," I sigh. Before I continue, I pull Adam
off my breast and switch sides. "Look, you just
got back last Tuesday. No one is going to expect
us to have even discussed the subject of marriage
yet, okay? And even if they do bring it up, it
doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here
with Adam and me."
He sits up, a smile on his face. "I love you," he
declares, and though I've heard it many times
these last six days, I still feel a tingle down
my spine at the words. "I love you, Scully, and
as soon as everything is back to normal between
us, I am going to want to marry you. Is that okay?"
I smile. "That's great." I lean forward and kiss
him. "I love you, too."
^*^
10:31 a.m.
To my surprise, we're not the first group to arrive.
I can hear Matty's squeals from the car, and I bet
that if the windows were up, I'd still hear him.
"God, he's huge!" Mulder mutters as he watches
Matty careen around the corner of the house to
greet us. I just nod, realizing that Mulder hasn't
seen my nephew since we stopped by their house in
San Diego just over two years ago.
"He's three now. I last saw him over Labor Day,
and he's even bigger now. Billy's gonna end up
with a giant on his hands." I say this as I open
the door and step out into the street. I then open
the back door to pull out the car seat that doubles
as a baby carrier. Mulder grabs the diaper bag
that's on the other side, and we slam the doors
in unison.
"Auntie Dee, hi hi hi!" He stops abruptly as he
sees Mulder step behind me, placing his hand at
the small of my back. Or maybe he sees Adam in the
carrier. It's probably a combination of them both
that causes Matty's wariness.
"Hi Matty," I say with a smile. "How are you?"
"Okay," he says shyly, then points to Mulder.
"Who's that?"
"You remember Mulder, don't you? He's my, um,
friend." I stumble over my words, trying to find
a description of what Mulder is that a three-year-
old can understand. I can tell what Matty's next
question will be, so I put down the carrier so he
can see his cousin better. "And this is your cousin
Adam."
Matty's face lights up. "He's a baby," he whispers,
his voice full of awe. "Just like Cory next door.
Since Cory is a baby, Wendy is his big sister.
Does Adam have a big sister?"
The thought of Emily leaps to the front of my mind,
but there's no way Matty can understand that. "Nope.
Just Adam. Hey, let's go out back and find your Mom
and Dad and Grandma, okay?"
"'Kay!" he agrees enthusiastically, running full
speed to the backyard, all the while yelling,
"Mommy, there's a baby, just like Cory! There's
a baby!"
Mulder grins at me as I stand up with Adam again.
"Guess we don't get the element of surprise."
I start walking to the back of the house. "It's
probably best that Billy gets a head's up. This
way he can remember to be nice and not make an
ass of himself."
We enter the backyard, met by an excited Tara who
gives Mulder a warm hug.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay, Mulder," she admits
as she steps away. "When Dana told us about your
case, I knew there was a chance that..." She
trails off sheepishly, then shakes her head. "But
here you are, safe and sound with your family."
Then she turns to me and takes note of the carrier
at my side. "Oh, and there's baby Adam! May I?"
she asks, and I give my permission as she reaches
down and pulls him into her arms.
"Dana," calls a voice that rumbles in the low
frequency. A voice I know all too well. It's time
for the Ultimate Test of Billy's Word.
All at once, I'm afraid. By big brother was never
great at keeping promises. He was always the first
to tattle on any of us if we did something bad.
Hell, even if we didn't do something bad, he'd
find some way to get us in trouble. He and Missy
used to get in awful fights where they'd each
dredge up all the dirt they could find on each
other and go running to Mom or Dad as soon as
their list was complete. Once Billy went off to
the Naval Academy, they just stopped talking.
They couldn't stand being in the same room together,
which was why she didn't show up for Dad's funeral.
And why Billy couldn't make it to my side when I
returned from my abduction. Missy was friendly
with Tara, though. And knowing what a peacemaker
Tara is, I can't help but wonder if Missy and Billy
might have reconciled if she were still alive.
Billy's walking towards me, opening his arms for
a hug, so I put down the carrier and step into his
embrace. For a moment we're silent, then he whispers,
"I'll be good, Dana. I swear."
I pull back, feeling better about the situation.
Billy can't keep promises, but when he swears
something, it's as good as gold.
Sure enough, Billy approaches Mulder, and though
it isn't with open arms, there is a hint of a
smile on his face.
"Glad to see you made it back, Mulder. Adam's gonna
need a father, and though you may not be number one
on my list, you're in the top ten." He holds out
his right hand, and Mulder takes it, shock evident
on his face.
"Thanks, Bill. That's all I ask." I knew Mulder
could be diplomatic. Now if only he'll apply these
skills to the FBI brass...
^*^
3:30 p.m.
Today has been such a wonderful day. Right now I
watch Mulder playing with Matty and Alexis, who's
six. From even our earliest cases I knew that he
would be a wonderful father. Granted, for the first
year or so I didn't think he'd be the father of my
children, but I knew that some woman would end up
very lucky.
I am so thankful to be that woman.
I can't wait for Adam to grow up. I want to see
him play a game of catch or one-on-one with his
dad. Of course, at the same time, I want Adam to
stay little forever. Five months and he's already
too old.
Sometimes at night, I imagine what our lives will
be like five, ten years from now. It sounds so far
away, but then I think about where I was just five,
ten years ago, and I realize that it's not that far
at all. I look at Saundra, and I swear to myself
that I will not let my little boy end up with a
manipulative woman like her.
But then I look at Billy, and I realize that I've
been acting toward Saundra just like Billy used
to act toward Mulder. Except I keep it to myself.
Just the same, I vow to try and put a positive
spin on Saundra, since if she hasn't gone by now,
she never will. Well, she is a good mother to
their three kids. I could trust her with Adam in
the event that neither Mom nor Tara were available.
I hear a familiar cry come from the baby monitor
that's sitting on the grass next to my chair. I
stand up to get Adam before Mulder's DaddyRadar
picks up on the sound and pulls him inside and
away from the two youngsters who want his attention
right now. As much as I enjoy not being on call
every time Adam cries now, I do think Mulder's
going a bit overboard, and I want to reassert my
right to a quiet moment with my son.
God knows they're the first quiet times I've had
in years.
^*^*^
VI - The Immortal
[[A voice from beyond brings answers to
Mulder and Scully]]
June 17, 2001
10:13 a.m.
He's happy as a clam this morning. Right now he's
watching SportsCenter's highlights from last
night's Knicks game -- they beat the Lakers to
win the Championship in five games. I'm glad I
stocked up on baby-sized Knick paraphernalia,
since Adam's been clothed in nothing else for the
last two weeks. Mulder's assured me that today is
the last day.
But the crazy part is, he doesn't even realize that
today is so much more than The Day After the Knicks
Won the NBA Championship Day. Which really shouldn't
surprise me, since he never really had to think
about this day before. Not since Samantha was taken,
I'm sure.
Today is Father's Day.
And now that I think about it, I barely remembered
Mother's Day this year. It only occurred to me
when I was in the grocery store and saw all the
cards. And I didn't even realize then -- with Adam
in the cart even! -- that I would get a card this
year. But I did get one for my mother. When I gave
it to her, she smiled and just handed me one of
her own. That's when it really hit me that I was
a mother. Before it had just been that I had a
baby now. But Adam can't talk, so he doesn't call
me 'mom' or anything, and it's easy to forget what
I am to my baby.
So I think Mulder's suffering from the same problem.
He knows he's a daddy, but I bet he forgets he's
a father. I know, same difference. But I do see a
bit of a difference between mother and mommy, so
there's got to be a difference between father and
daddy. Right?
Adam laughs loudly, and I move from the bedroom
doorway where I've been standing to see what the
commotion is all about.
Mulder's lying on the floor with a couple pillows
to elevate his head so he can see the TV comfortably.
His knees are bent, and Adam's propped in the crook
of his waist. The Knicks onesie Adam was wearing
ten minutes ago is in a pile on the floor, and
he's being gently tickled by his daddy. I grin,
realizing I've stumbled upon the perfect opportunity.
"Is Daddy tickling you, Adam?" I ask in the happy
voice that seemed to appear out of nowhere about
five seconds after I gave birth.
"Not at all," Mulder denies, quickly placing his
hands under his head. "He's just as thrilled as
I am about the game last night."
I chuckle as I sit down Indian-style (is that
term PC?) next to my boys, carefully keeping the
envelope out of Mulder's sight. "Right. He got
woken up at a very late hour because of that game.
He got a snack because of that game."
Mulder pulls one of his hands from behind his head
and softly ruffles the sparse hair on Adam's head.
"You know, this kid's got a pretty good life. I'd
forgotten how babies have their every wish granted
simply by letting out a good wail. I'm jealous."
"Yeah," I agree, adjusting myself so I'm laying
down next to him. "And his wishes aren't even that
specific."
His other hand comes out from behind his head and
takes mine. "You know, I almost wasted my third
wish on you," he says.
My mind tries to figure out what he would have
wished for, but it gets tripped up by one of his
words. "Wait. 'Wasted'? A wish for me would have
been wasted?"
I notice that his hand lightly grips Adam's arm
as he turns his eyes away from the baby and meet
mine. "Well, sure. If I'm not dreaming right now --
and I don't think I am -- then I've gotten what I
would have wished for anyway. So it obviously would
have been a waste. And I feel much better knowing
there's one more cynical person wandering around
the city with a Starbucks cup in her hand."
We laugh, and after a quick tickle Adam joins in,
too. I don't know how I ever thought that I could
live a fulfilling life without this.
"Mulder," I say, reaching to my side and fumbling
around for the card, "you seem to have forgotten
a very important date."
His 'panic face' breaks through his smile, and I
can tell he's wracking his brain trying to decide
what birthday or anniversary he's forgotten. With
a smile, I hand him the card.
"Don't worry, you weren't supposed to buy me
anything," I tease.
He takes the envelope and studies it, a frown
creasing his brow. His curiosity takes over and
he opens it and pulls out the card. Mulder's eyes
widen as he reads it, and the inside note brings
tears to his eyes.
"Thank you, Scully," he whispers, the sincerity
and emotion in his voice nearly bringing me to
tears as well. He starts to lean over to kiss me,
but he stops when he realizes the baby's perilous
position.
"You're very welcome, Dad," I respond. I complete
his lean and our lips meet for a brief kiss that
would have been chaste, had it not been so achingly
long since we've been alone together. He groans as
I pull away, and I'm glad to know I'm not the only
one who feels this way.
"Hey Mom? Can I skip the tie this year? I'd much
rather send Adam off with his grandma tonight."
I'm on my feet as quickly as possible while avoiding
a head rush and picking up the phone. Before Mulder
can even sit up, I've dialed and am anxiously
listening to each ring.
Mom finally picks up. "Hello?"
"Mom? Can you baby-sit tonight?"
^*^
10:47 p.m.
The *ding* of the elevator doors pulls us from our
clench; luckily, there are no neighbors waiting to
witness our wild behavior. As we stumble down the
hall to the apartment, it occurs to me that we must
look positively wasted. Right. Breast-feeding does
not allow for booze, and Mulder has been an absolute
gentleman by staying in a dry spell of his own.
Actually, we've been having two dry spells, one
of which is about to become very, very wet.
I giggle, thinking that I'm already very, very wet.
And I don't mean the rain outside.
But as we stand at the door, trying to unlock it
quickly, a feeling of unease comes over me. There's
an odd smell in the hallway, one that I've smelled
before, just never here. Mulder notices my sudden
stillness, and he opens his mouth to say something;
I cup my hand over it before he utters a word.
I can't figure out what's going on, so I finish
unlocking the door and slowly push it open. I flip
on the lights, and I'm relieved to see that nothing
looks out of the ordinary.
"Whoa!" Mulder cries, grabbing on to my shoulder.
I look at him, then follow his eyes downward. He's
just slipped on an envelope that lies just inside
the door. It must have been pushed underneath.
He reaches down for it. "No," I say, grabbing his
hand. "Prints," I add, and he nods and walks to
the kitchen for a pair of gloves. I've found latex
to be very useful when dealing with baby diarrhea.
He comes back with the gloves on, then bends to
pick up the envelope. The other side simply says
'Fox' in bold, capital letters. Virtually useless
to analyze.
I give Mulder a push toward the living room, and
we're soon seated on the couch. "Open it," I urge.
I still feel uneasy about this, but I don't feel
a sense of danger. We won't blow ourselves to
kingdom come, but I doubt we'll like what's inside.
Inside is a type-written letter. Courier font,
regular margins. Again, analysis will probably be
useless. Together, we begin to read:
Fox,
If you've received this letter, then you should
know that I am dead. I am no longer a threat to you.
You'll probably never know how or when, but trust me
just this once: I am gone forever. Well, almost.
Fox, men like me have simple desires in their
lives. We want money, power, and immortality. While
the first two are quite easily achieved, the last
is rather hard to come by. Many have tried their
own techniques to gain immortality. Some have
cryogenically frozen all or part of their bodies.
Some have made their names well known so that all
the world will remember them always. But I have
taken a simpler route. A route taken by billions
of people over time, many of who do not know that
they are becoming immortal.
Procreation.
Yes, the simple act of passing my genes to
another generation has sealed my immortality. Of
course, this act counts for nothing unless it is
continued. Which is where you come in.
As much as it will hurt you to admit, you must
know that Bill Mulder was not your biological father.
He wasn't Samantha's, either. He was supposed to
give your mother a child, but we found out too
late that he was sterile. And by that time he was
already raising two children who weren't his. We,
your mother and I, never told him that I fathered
you, but I suppose he figured it all out in the
end. That's why you weren't taken as originally
planned. It was to be Bill's child who would suffer
the tests. And when Samantha proved to be mine as
well, then I arranged for her to be taken by
different people, my people. She faced different
tests, horrible in their own right, but nowhere
near as horrible as the other ones. I still mourn
her death, though I feel no remorse for pulling
you in the wrong direction for so many years.
You see, you were my last chance for immortality.
I had hope for many years, but after you and Diana
parted company, I began to fear that you would
become a virtual hermit, living stubbornly in the
basement with your files, scaring off anyone who
dared darken your doorstep.
And then Agent Scully came along.
I didn't realize until after the X-Files were
first closed how she could help save my plans. My
colleagues wanted to abduct her, and I, knowing
what procedures went on during the abductions,
saw my perfect opportunity. When they induced super-
ovulation, I stole one of the vials, much like you
did at the research facility. I used alien cloaking
technology and hid the ova in one of her ovaries.
Don't look so surprised; if they can hide a whole
spaceship, they can hide, and hold in place, a
few dozen ova.
I waited patiently for the time to be right.
When I was confident in the feelings you both held
for (and from) each other, I set my trap. I lured
with the promise of the ultimate cure. I'm sure
you quickly discovered that the disk she ended up
with was blank. I must apologize for the deception,
but it was essential to my plan. She may have told
you about how I drugged her, how she woke up in a
strange bed in her pajamas, not knowing how she
got into them. I did that, but only so she would
be comfortable.
There is, in fact, a disk that can control the
implant that sits just under her skin. This implant,
which you believe simply put her cancer into
remission, actually regulates many of her systems.
You may have noticed that she heals remarkably
fast form serious wounds. She doesn't catch colds
or the flu easily at all. And, when instructed by
my disk, the implant removed the cloak from the
ova that still reside in her. She wouldn't notice
any difference, of course, because the implant
also regulates her menstrual cycle.
During that trip, I also planted an idea into
her subconscious. I told her she wouldn't allow
herself to love you. If you're receiving this
letter, then obviously she does now.
This letter was to be delivered to you the
first Father's Day after my death, unless otherwise
directed. I wasn't sure if I would live to see my
grandchild, and obviously I haven't. Had I lived,
I'd have delivered this message to you in person.
Thank you, Fox, for helping me achieve immortality.
Thank your lovely partner for me as well. Or is she
your wife now? Congratulations to you both, and
Happy Father's Day.
CGBS
I stare at the paper, my jaw dropped in shock.
I'd always suspected that that evil old man had
done something to me that day, but I never thought
that this was on his agenda.
I try to hate him for what he did, but it's damn
near impossible. I can hate him for doing it
without my knowledge, but that's about it. I
almost feel grateful to the son of a bitch.
"Scully," Mulder whispers, "what have we done?"
He drops the letter and reaches over to his desk
to pick up a framed picture of Adam taken just
days after birth.
I know he wants to hear harsh words come from my
mouth; he hopes that I'm appalled by this invasion
to my body and our lives. But I'm going to
disappoint him.
"Well, we may not have known it, but we created
a human being one night when we finally showed
each other how much we love one another. Despite
the selfish desire for immortality that provided
the means, the fact remains that Adam's only here
because of love. Doesn't that count for something?
I mean, it's not like he took a sample from you
and one from me and mixed them together in a
Petrie dish. We did have a choice in the matter.
"And no matter what pop psych crap he may have
fed me, it wasn't his words that told me it was
time. It was the whole Daniel incident. And what
Colleen told me. To be honest, I hadn't even
remembered that he'd said that to me until just
now. As much as I want to hate him for it, I'm
finding it very hard to do so."
Still clutching the picture, Mulder falls against
the back of the couch. "I know, Scully. I feel
the same way. Maybe, if he had told us about what
he'd done before we conceived, then maybe I could
hate him. Because then I'd think about it every
time we'd want to make love, and I'm sure we'd
have arguments about whether to try and have a
baby, or deny that man his immortality. But now...
now it's already happened. I wish I didn't know,
but it is a bit reassuring to know how it happened."
"And of course," I add, "we can't be absolutely
sure that this is the gospel truth. He's lied
before. Maybe he's not even really dead and he's
just messing with us one more time."
Mulder is quiet as he absorbs that idea. I get
the feeling that this letter won't be spoken of
ever again, and eventually he'll go back to
believing that Adam was a miracle that came about
completely unaided. And I may make a conscious
decision to do the same.
But subconsciously, I'll always know different.
And I find myself hoping that what the letter
says is the gospel truth. Because that means I
still have ova, and with ova comes the chance for
more children.
Old men with money and power aren't the only ones
who entertain the idea of immortality.
^*^*^
VII - Domestication
[[It's time for the inevitable: marriage and a
townhouse]]
August 4, 2001
8:56 p.m.
Christ, this man's going to be the death of me.
I guess I knew that the first time I dragged my
ass after his soon-to-be-very-sorry ass when he
ditched me. When was that again? Oh yeah, Idaho.
Second case. Go figure.
To be fair, this time he hasn't caused my heart
to stop because of some precarious position he's
gotten us into. Oh no, this is much more civilized.
We've finally been able to leave Adam with Mom
every other Saturday while we go out and act like
adults. Then we come home and act like adults who
are very much in love and attracted to each other.
After more than a year of missing him in an
intimate way, it's nice to have a routine to
stick to.
But tonight...
Mom had spent the day with a friend of hers in
McLean, so she offered to pick Adam up on her way
home so we wouldn't have to drive all the way up
to Baltimore. That was fine with us. We figured
we could grab an earlier dinner and maybe even
catch a movie or something.
Wrong. Tonight we didn't even make it out the
front door. I didn't even make it into my dress.
I think the heat got to us; the temperature peaked
at 107 in the shade. He'd been walking around the
place bare-chested all day long, with old shorts
that were down to their last, strategically-placed
threads. I suppose I didn't help much, going bra-
less with a tight tank and equally tight spandex
shorts. So I didn't do much laundry this week. So
sue me.
But, in all honesty, it's not even this extreme
physical exertion in extreme heat that's stopped
my heart tonight. It came close, but not quite.
No, my heart stopped when I laid eyes on the rock
nestled in velvet that he's holding out to me.
"Scully?" His voice has a tinge of worry in it,
and I realize that I haven't responded yet.
"Mulder...where's all this coming from? I mean,
it's out of nowhere, you know?"
He just shrugs. "It just seems like the right
time. I'm working full-time again, and I know you
want to cut back your hours some. It just makes
sense. But if you have a problem..."
Once again, that worry works its way into his
voice, and I hold my hand up to stop it. "I don't
have a problem. Yes, Mulder, I will marry you.
That was never a question in my mind. But like I
said, it just seemed to come from left field."
"Well, at least you're surprised," he quips,
pulling me close in for a kiss to seal our deal.
We're getting married. Jesus.
^*^*^
August 5, 2001
11:08 a.m.
Mulder screeches the car to a halt along the curb
outside Mom's house. I'm surprised how excited he
is to see her this morning. He's always glad to
pick up Adam after a night of releasing all of
our tensions, but today is different. Today, Adam
is one step closer to not being a bastard child
anymore.
Yes, I realize that since he was born to an unwed
mother, he's technically illegitimate, but he'll
never have to know. I doubt we'll even remember
the date of our anniversary, never mind how many
years it's been.
I step calmly out of the car, trying not to notice
how he's already *skipping* to the front door.
Still calm, I walk behind him up the front steps.
He's already inside, calling for Mom and Adam. I
hear the baby respond, letting out a shriek to
raise the dead.
"Morning, Dana," Mom says from behind me, where
she's just come out of the bathroom.
"Hi, Mom," I respond. I give her a hug, and we
walk arm-in-arm into the kitchen, where Mulder's
found his son and is presently wiping him clean
of his breakfast.
"Hello, Fox. Did you sleep well?" She's looking
at the table as she says this, but I can still
see the smirk on her face. I gently elbow her in
the ribs.
Mulder just smiles even wider and picks up Adam.
"Like a baby, Ma- Mom."
I smile at his correction. He's always called my
mother by her first name, but I guess now he
figures he's earned the right to call her Mom.
He's a smart man, but he never realized that he's
always had that right.
Mom also notes the change, and I can see the wheels
turning in her head. I keep my mouth shut though;
Mulder insisted on breaking the news himself.
Slipping my arm from Mom's, I step over to him,
holding my hands out to receive my son. Adam smiles
happily, he's a morning person, just like I was
as a kid. I hope this trait carries through high
school, 'cause I saw Missy and Charlie, and I do
not need grumps like them at five-thirty in the
morning. Mulder's bad enough.
Wait, did I say high school? I'm sorry, I'm mistaken.
My baby boy's never growing up. Ever. So there.
"So, Mom," Mulder says oh-so-casually. "What are
you doing next Saturday?"
The gears in her head start cranking at twice the
speed. "Saturday? The eleventh?" Mulder just nods.
"I don't think I have plans. Why, what's up?"
"Oh, not much." He steps behind me, placing one
arm around my waist, and rubbing Adam's head with
his free hand. "We were just thinking that you'd
like to come with us while we do some chores. You
know, odds and ends. Some clothes shopping, pick
up a realtor's guide, get married, that sort of
thing."
I successfully keep my laughter in as Mom's eyes
narrow then widen as she realizes the words that
were hidden in plain "sight" in Mulder's little
diatribe.
"What?!" she screeches. "You better be serious,
Fox Mulder, or I have half a mind to..."
He starts to laugh, and I finally let my own
laughter loose. Mom just stares at us, and I think
that she really thinks we're just kidding around.
"He's serious, Mom," I reassure her. "We figured
it's time to get ourselves settled, you know? We're
also going to start looking for a bigger apartment
or a townhouse or something, and I..." I pause,
not sure if this is the right time to say this.
Ever since Ronnie was assigned to the X-Files,
I've entertained the notion that she could take
my place once Mulder was back. Now he's been back
for two-and-a-half months, and he's been doing
fieldwork full-time for the last month. I've
continued going in for my normal full-time desk
job, but mostly to act as a buffer while Mulder
got used to the idea of actually working with
someone who wasn't me. And now, he's said that
he's okay with me cutting back my hours, so I
think I see the perfect opportunity for me to
bow out.
I want to be home with my son, it's as simple as
that.
Mom and Mulder are staring at me, waiting for me
to finish my sentence. I turn a bit so I can look
into Mulder's eyes. "I think it's time for me to
leave the Bureau."
Mom gasps, but doesn't argue. I know she's been
wanting me to be a stay-at-home mother ever since
Adam was born, but she also knew that without
Mulder, I had to earn income somehow.
But it's Mulder's reaction that really surprises
me. I expect him to put up a fight, claiming that
he can't work without me, beg me to at least work
part-time. But instead, he just nods.
"I figured that's what you were leaning towards,"
he admits. "I don't see any reasons for you to
stay anymore. We know about Samantha, the Project
is defunct now that CGB Spender's dead..."
"We think," I amend. "We hope."
"Yes we do. Anyway, Adam should have his mother
with him all the time. Not that his grandmother
is an inefficient babysitter," he corrects with
a smile, looking at Mom.
She just nods. "It's okay, Fox. I'd much rather
baby-sit once every two weeks, if that's all right
with you."
I smile and place a kiss on Adam's soft, blonde
hair. "That's wonderful."
^*^*^
August 11, 2001
1:24 p.m.
There are five of us sitting outside the magistrate's
office this afternoon. One is an eight-month-old
baby who's quietly snoozing in his carrier. Mom
and Skinner are seated across the hall, chatting
softly about God knows what. Probably something
to do with the little ceremony we're about to go
through.
Mulder is sitting next to me, on the other side
of the baby. He's not saying anything, just looking
down at his hands, which are folded in his lap.
Stupid self-doubt.
"Mulder," I whisper, careful not to wake the baby.
"What's wrong?"
He looks up, and his face shows confusion.
"Nothing's wrong. Why?"
"Well, you looked..." I make a gesture with my
hand, unsure of how to describe his outward
appearance. "You looked like something was wrong."
Mulder shakes his head, a smile forming on his
lips. "Nope. Sorry if you got the wrong impression.
I am quite content, and I will be even more content
when we leave this building."
I'm about to second his feelings when the door to
our left opens, and an elderly woman steps out.
"Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?"
We stand at our names, and she motions for us to
follow her into the office. Without my asking, Mom
grabs the carrier and joins us. She and Skinner
are our witnesses. Mulder was a bit wary about
asking Skinner to play the role, but we needed
two and there was no way we could split the Gunmen.
So Skinner was our only option. Not that we told
him that.
Behind the desk sits a kind-looking middle-aged
man; the plaque on the desktop identifies him as
Mr. James Newman. "Good afternoon, Dana, Fox." He
stands as he says this and holds out his right hand.
"Good afternoon," I return, shaking his hand.
Mulder does the same, and doesn't bother correcting
Mr. Newman about his name.
"So, you two wan to be married, am I correct?" We
nod our heads, and he looks over at the other
three people in the room. "And these are your
witnesses?"
I nod again, then introduce them. "This is my
mother, Maggie Scully, a good friend of ours,
Walter Skinner, and, um..." I find myself pausing
in embarrassment. Mr. Newman will certainly be
wondering why we didn't get married before the
baby was born, but I'm not in the mood to explain
a thing.
"Our son, Adam," Mulder finishes, without a hint
of embarrassment, only pride. To his credit, Mr.
Newman doesn't even raise an eyebrow.
"Wonderful. Well, let's get this underway, shall
we?"
^*^*^
August 17, 2001
2:22 p.m.
Ronnie sighs as she picks up my nameplate from
the desk. "You know, Dana, it's going to be really
boring around here with you gone. I was just
getting used to hearing you two argue about these
cases. There's no way I can recreate that feeling
with him."
I grin. "Good. That's what made me fall in love
with him, and I don't need you falling in love
with my husband!" We laugh together, carefully
packing the contents of my desk into the large
box on the chair.
Today is my last day. It's kind of sad; I never
could imagine being happy without the X-Files or
the Bureau. But now, I just look at my son and I
know that I'm doing the right thing.
"Speaking of your husband," Ronnie says, placing
extra emphasis on the word 'husband,' "where is he?"
"He's up with Skinner. Something about some earned
vacation time." I waggle my eyebrows happily.
Mulder has insisted that we go on a honeymoon, so
he's trying to work out a possible schedule. "But,"
I add, glancing at my watch, "he better be done
soon. We've got an appointment with our realtor
in two hours."
"Ooo. Where're you looking?" Ronnie stops packing
and perches on the corner of the desk.
"There's a development of townhouses in Ellicott
City that we're interested in. It's really close
to my mother, which is great for babysitting
purposes. I always feel guilty when she drives
all the way down from Catonsville."
When I suggested the idea of moving up closer to
Baltimore, Mulder wasn't completely thrilled at
first. He doesn't relish the thought of commuting
down I-95 in rush hour traffic, but he's beginning
to see the sense in it. I'm hoping that this place
we're looking at will get his approval; I saw it
years ago when Mom and I were doing some lazy
driving around, and even then I thought that I
might like to move there if I were to somehow ever
have a family. Luckily, there are a few townhouses
for sale right now.
The door behind me opens. I turn to see Mulder
stride into the office, and the look on his face...
oh dear. He's got something up his sleeve, that's
for sure. I just pray he hasn't booked airline
tickets without my input.
"Hey!" he greets us. Mulder looks at me and asks,
"Ready to get going?"
"Just a few more minutes," I respond, turning back
to my packing. The only things that are left to
pack are the various knickknacks in my desk. The
last few days I moved all of my equipment out of
the office, stuff that neither Mulder nor Ronnie
will have much use for without me there to work
it for them.
"I'm gonna go get a soda," Ronnie says suddenly.
She leaves the room, and I realize she's giving
us some privacy.
The meaning of this moment abruptly hits me: I
will never work with Mulder again. I won't be
seeing him 24/7. I won't have to watch another
slide show, or dispute one of his theories.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I reach for him. He
embraces me while I think of all the times I
wanted to do this when we were just partners. Now
that I'm allowed to do this whenever I want, we're
no longer partners in work. Sure, we'll always be
partners in life, but never again Mulder and Scully.
Just Mr. and Mrs. Mulder. Just Mom and Dad. Don't
get me wrong, those are great names to be known
by, but...
I feel his lips press against my cheek, then my
earlobe. "You'll always be Scully to me," he
whispers in my ear. I smile; he can still read
my mind.
"Thank you, Mulder," I reply. I take in a deep
breath and step back
"No, Scully, thank you. I may still be the FBI's
Most Unwanted, but I'll take that any day, as
long as I'm Dana Scully's Most Desperately Wanted."
A breath of laughter escapes me, and I hear myself
mumble, "That's not even a top ten list. There's
just one spot, and it's all yours."
He grins. "I know," he says arrogantly.
I shake my head at his cockiness, but I know he
knows. I look one last time at my desk and see
that everything's been placed in the box. With a
sigh, I pick up said box and motion to the door.
"Come on, Mr. Mulder. Townhouses await."
"I'm right behind you, Mrs. Mulder."
^*^*^
September 28, 2001
12:32 p.m.
"Okay, Dana, if you would just sign this line
here..."
I follow Keri's instructions as she points to
several places for me to sign. I've gotten pretty
good at my new signature in the past month. Dana
K. Mulder. The first time I tried it just felt so
weird that I called my mother and asked how she
got used to signing 'Margaret E. Scully' instead
of 'Margaret E. Perry'. We both laughed as she
admitted to spending a whole hour just writing
her signature over and over on blank pieces of
paper. That night, I did the same, and now I don't
even think about it anymore.
"Great!" says Keri Leigh as I sign the last line.
"Everything's done. Congratulations Mulders, you
just bought yourself a house!"
I sit back and sign in victory. The past month
I've been hearing tales of closings gone horribly
wrong, and for the past week I've been a nervous
wreck. Mulder's been very understanding and
reassured me that nothing would go wrong, but it
didn't really help much. Even Adam's noticed my
change in disposition; he's crawling now, and I
often find him crawling away from me the minute
Mulder gets home. I try not to take offense, but...
But that's water under the bridge. The closing
has gone perfectly, and we now own 291A West
Chestnut Street in Ellicott City, Maryland. And
thanks to an unexpected inheritance Mulder got
from an aunt he hadn't see or heard from in at
least twenty years, we only have a five-year
mortgage.
It took me three days to convince Mulder that the
house was perfect. Three bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms,
living room, kitchen, and dining room. Small, yes,
but it's bigger than our one bedroom apartment.
We'll make the extra bedroom into a study/guestroom.
And one small part of me, the part that still
believes in fairy tale endings, thinks that maybe
one day we'll really need that third bedroom.
But for now, everything's perfect.
^*^*^
VIII - Honeymoon on the AD
[[A call from Hollywood means only one thing:
Premiere time, baby!]]
November 10, 2001
9:30 a.m.
"Come on, Adam, big step...Good job! Okay, another
one...Yea!" With me cheering him on, Adam makes
his way from the sofa to the recliner across the
room. He's still tightly holding on to my hands,
but his steps are becoming more confident each
day. It wouldn't surprise me if he's walking by
his birthday.
Mulder starts clapping as he enters the room and
sees what all the commotion is about. "As proud
as I am of him," he says slowly, "are you sure we
want him toddling around here so soon? I mean, we
can barely catch him when he crawls!"
I guide Adam over to his father. "Yes," I agree,
just as slowly. "But, Billy and Tara are coming
out here for Christmas this year. And Matty didn't
learn to walk until he was nearly a year-and-a-
half."
"Da Da Da," Adam warbles as he reaches Mulder's
legs. In response, Mulder bends down to pick him
up.
"Well, I guess if Adam can beat Matty to that
milestone, then I guess I can't complain."
I chuckle at the stuffy pride in Mulder's voice.
Although Billy's made it a point to try and get
to know Mulder better, he still holds some obvious
resentment towards my husband. And when Billy was
last here for a visit, he made a few comments about
how Adam was a bit behind Matty in the milestone
department. Tara assured me later that Billy was
completely wrong and that Adam was actually ahead
of schedule, but we decided to let my big brother
think whatever he wanted to on that subject.
So Mulder relishes everything that Adam does,
especially when it happens earlier than it did
for Matty.
He kisses Adam's still-blonde hair, then gently
places him on the floor. "You packed yet?" he asks
me, his eyes giving away his excitement.
"No, not completely. I do have other things to do
with my time," I chide, poking him in the chest.
He catches my hand and pulls it to his lips. He's
about to kiss my palm when our moment is interrupted
by a thunk and a wail.
I spin around, pulling back my hand, to see Adam
sitting up about a step from the couch. I begin
walking over to him to calm him down, when I
realize what must have happened.
"Mulder, he was trying to do it all by himself!"
I say in amazement. I only began helping him walk
five days ago. This kid is amazing.
"Does Mom know?" he asks, disappearing into the
kitchen. "'Cause if she doesn't, she's in for one
helluva surprise!"
"I haven't spoken to her all week," I admit. Adam
stops crying and crawls into my lap, eager for
comfort. "She's doing this fundraiser at church
tomorrow, and she's really preoccupied."
He comes back into the living room with a glass
of orange juice in his hand. "Well, maybe she
shouldn't baby-sit then. I mean..."
I shake my head. "No, she'll be fine with Adam.
The fundraiser is a children's concert. And she's
already told the other members of the group that
she'd be babysitting. All she has to do tomorrow
is show up." I realize we've strayed a bit from
the original line of discussion. "What about you,
have you packed?"
He nods proudly as he flops down on the couch,
placing his legs on either side of me. "Yep. I
did it yesterday while you were in the office."
A month after I left my job, I realized that even
with Adam keeping me busy, I missed doing real work
terribly. I called the Baltimore Field Office and
asked them if they wanted any help with autopsies
or other forensic work that I could do. Now I go
into the city once every two weeks and they usually
find something for me to do. It feels good to keep
up with Bureau happenings. Mulder never figured out
how much I enjoy good gossip, so he doesn't pay
attention for me; working in Baltimore lets me
keep in touch with the sixteen-year-old in me.
"Actually, I just need to pick up my tux. The
tailor said it should be done by noon today, so
we can just pick up on our way to BWI."
The image of Mulder in a tux comes to the front
of my mind, and I'm momentarily distracted, missing
everything he says. I'm sure it's something I agree
with, so I just nod.
Adam crawls out of my lap and latches on to
Mulder's leg. His fists curled around the denim
of his father's blue jeans, he pulls himself to
a standing position much to his delight. Bravely,
he lets go with hand, reaching out towards Mulder,
and saying in his BabyTalk, "Da Da Da."
With a grin, Mulder heaves Adam into his lap.
"It's like living with that Volkswagen commercial."
I laugh with him, and Adam joins in.
^*^*^
4:39 p.m.
I sigh and roll my neck to relieve the cramps that
have settled in. The view of clouds outside my
window catches my eye; it's been a long time since
I've flown anywhere.
There's a break in the clouds, and I can see huge
patches of green, varying shades, of course. I can
make out large barns and silos. Must be the Midwest.
A flight attendant is making his way down our
aisle, offering blankets and pillows for the third
time since take-off. First class can get really
annoying. Besides, I already have the most
comfortable pillow I could ever ask for: Mulder.
Of course, right now Mulder's using my shoulder
as his pillow.
I glance across the aisle to Skinner, who's
engrossed in an issue of "Producer's Monthly". I
roll my eyes; he's really gone over the edge about
the whole Associate Producer bit. Hopefully, this
movie won't do so hot, and our esteemed AD will
realize he's much better suited for law enforcement.
Yes, the movie. Wayne Federman called about three
months ago announcing the official release date,
as well as inviting us to the premiere that would
occur earlier in the week. Mulder and I figured
that would be the best time for our delayed honey-
moon, so we accepted.
The premiere is tomorrow night, and we're staying
tonight and tomorrow in a hotel that Wayne has
generously paid for. Separate rooms, though.
Apparently Skinner failed to mention that we're
married now. Oh well. Not my money. But I have
big plans for that bubble bath this time.
^*^*^
November 11, 2001
5:20 p.m.
"Wow."
I look up from trying to fasten my bracelet to
see the stunned and pleased gape of my husband.
I smile in return, and I lower my gaze to take
in his outfit for the evening. Delectable as
always.
"You're pretty 'wow' yourself," I tell him sincerely.
He picks up his jaw and grins, then walks towards
me and takes the bracelet in his hand.
"Where'd you get this?" he asks in his 'I'm up to
something' voice.
"It was a graduation present after med school," is
what I say. I don't mention that it's from Daniel.
When I left Daniel, I almost threw it out, but for
some reason I kept it. I found it last year when I
cleaned out my apartment; I can wear it now that
there are no emotions attached to it anymore, now
that's it's just a pretty bracelet.
"Hmm." He steps away from me, taking the bracelet.
I'm about to protest, but I can tell that if I'm
good, I'll get something even better. Something
that does have feelings with it.
"Well, since we are here on our honeymoon, and
since I never got you a suitable wedding present,"
I bite my lip to refrain from saying anything, "I
thought it would be appropriate if I got you a
little something for tonight."
He pulls a long jewelry box from the inner pocket
of his tux jacket and hands it to me. It's wrapped
in silver paper with gold ribbon, but I really
don't take time to admire the wrapping job. With
the excitement of a six-year-old at Christmas, I
tear it open and lift off the top.
Inside lie two chains of gold. One is a necklace,
the other a bracelet. They're obviously a set, and
they each hold a single stone in their centers.
It's a light blue, and I look at Mulder questioningly
and ask, "Turquoise?"
He nods. "That's December's birthstone. I figured
tonight would be a good night for a subtle reminder,
since Skinner asked us..." He trails off, throwing
his hands up in annoyance.
Skinner came to our room (well, technically my
room) earlier today and asked us if we wouldn't
mind not 'acting married' tonight. Apparently
there's a part that Skinner just found out about,
and our being married might cause his friend a
great deal of embarrassment. We agreed, reluctantly,
though God knows I'm going to have a hard time
keeping my hands off Mulder tonight.
"They're beautiful, Mulder. Thank you," I say,
craning my neck back and rising on my toes to
kiss him. I wish I'd put my shoes on.
He pulls back much too soon and takes the box from
my hand. "Need help with the necklace?"
I turn around and look in the mirror. I'm wearing
a high-necked dress, and I think even my cross
might be a bit much for the outfit. "Actually,"
I say, hating to disappoint him, "I think I'll
forego the necklace tonight." His eyes give away
his regret, and I hurry to make it go away. "But,"
I add in my sexy voice I know will get his attention,
"maybe it's all I'll wear the rest of our...
honeymoon."
I see him gulp and I grin. No more disappointment;
all I can see in his stormy-hazel eyes is desire.
A little voice deep in my brain reminds me that
we're supposed to keep our hands *off* each other
tonight, but I do my best to ignore it.
A pounding on the door brings us out of our bubble.
Mulder leaves the bathroom to go answer it, and I
use the few extra seconds to make sure my hair is
straight and my lipstick is on just my lips. I
then follow Mulder's footsteps, heading to the
safe that the hotel provides with each room.
"Good evening, Scully," says Skinner in a slightly
choked voice that I'm going to take as a compliment.
"Hello, Skinner." Despite the level of closeness
we developed last year as we searched for Mulder,
I've never felt comfortable addressing him by his
first name. Apparently the feeling is mutual.
"Mulder, have you used the safe yet?" I ask as I
gather the few expensive items that I plan to tuck
away. He answers negatively, so I quickly think
of a six-digit number to use as my personal code.
Easy: 100212. I carefully place the necklace and
my old bracelet inside, keep Mulder's in my hand
so he can help me with it on the way to the theater.
With great remorse I slip off my rings; I haven't
taken them off once since they went on. I remind
Mulder to do the same, and I can see the pain in
his eyes as he hands his wedding ring to me. I
doubt his has come off, either.
With a sigh I lock everything up, then sit on the
edge of the bed to put on my shoes. Task completed,
and with Skinner nervously looking at his watch,
I take Mulder's offered arm (much to Skinner's
annoyance) and we head out the door.
Hollywood, here we come.
^*^*^
1:15 a.m.
It's been a very long time since I was up this
late without even a nap somewhere along the way.
But I've been having too much fun to think about
the time.
Mulder's asking our driver a question, and from
the pleased look on his face as he settles back
next to me, I'm guessing he got the answer he was
looking for.
"What's up?"
He shook his head. "Nothing, really. I just asked
Jerome up there if he wouldn't mind waiting for us
to gather our things so he can take us to the B&B
tonight."
"But, we don't start renting it until tomorrow,"
I point out. Before he can say anything, though,
I realize what he's done. "You called them, didn't
you?"
"After I left the movie," he nods. "They'll let
us take it tonight, but we have to pay an extra
fee to cover the lateness of their notification."
I bite my lip, concerned as always about matters
of money. Mulder's still grinning, though, so it
can't be all bad...
"Luckily," he says, reaching into his tux jacket,
"we don't have to pay..." He pulls out the Bureau
card, and I know my face lights up with the smile
that spreads over my face.
"Thank you, AD Skinner!" I giggle, and I find myself
wishing we hadn't paid for the rest of the week
already. Oh well. Our one night on the Bureau won't
be wasted, that's for sure!
^*^*^
4 out of 5 doctors say expressing your enjoyment of a fanfic
to its author increases your life expectancy 23-23.8 years.
The other doctor was killed by Cancerman before we could ask
him.
jeri, president, xpab: x-philes against bees
Join by writing to: kill_em_all@thexfiles.com OR
Visit the xpab site:
http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/xpab.html
And while you're there...
Visit Jeri's Basement:
http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/index.html
AUTHOR: jeri
E-MAIL: ggal1116@yahoo.com OR agentjeri@thexfiles.com
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/index/html
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: SRA, S-POV
KEYWORDS: MSR/M, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst, Babyfic
SPOILERS: Requiem
ARCHIVE: Sure, just drop me a line!
STARTED: June 10, 2000
FINISHED: June 23, 2000
CONTAINS: Promises, Promises; The Immortal; Domestication;
and Honeymoon on the AD.
**DISCLAIMER: The names you recognize belong to
CC and his crew. Veronica Durant and Alexis are
mine, so please don't use them without consulting
me first. Enjoy!
^*^*^
V - Promises, Promises
[[Less than a week after Mulder's return, he's
forced to face the family]]
May 28, 2001
6:03 a.m.
It is with much pleasure that I ignore my son's
cries and roll over in bed. No need to get up yet:
Daddy can change that diaper!
Mulder hasn't even been home for a week yet --
it's a week tomorrow -- but he's already turned
into a SuperDaddy! whenever Adam requires assistance.
He's offered several times to work the breast pump
himself so he can share in the 2 a.m. feedings.
Since we have yet to be alone, it's the most intimate
we've been.
On that topic, Mulder is really torn. I can see in
his eyes just how much he wants me, and I know I
reflect that desire. But while I'm used to letting
Mom take Adam during the day while I work, Mulder
is still getting to know his baby boy. He cherishes
every moment he gets with Adam, and there's no way
I can deny him those moments.
So, I wait it out. I've waited a whole year, and
except for our two months before he was abducted,
eight whole years before that. I can hold out for
another week or two. I hope it's not two.
"Hey buddy! Good morning! You got a stinky diaper?
Huh, do ya? I think you... phew! Oh yeah, you do!
Let's clean that mess up, whaddya say?"
I smile at Mulder's babbling. The first day or two
that was his biggest problem. He just didn't know
how to talk to a five-month-old baby. But when I
came home from work on Thursday, he had it down
pat. When you're all alone with a baby, you quickly
learn how to carry a conversation.
"Geeze Adam, what did you eat last night? You sneak
out for a 4 a.m. snack? 'Cause that bottle at two-
thirty shouldn't have caused that much toxic waste."
I listen to Adam coo in response to his father's
gentle voice. I think Adam must already have
figured out the difference between Mommy and Daddy,
because he never stops crying for me in the morning
until he's fed. With Mulder he calms down as soon
as his butt's wiped up. And as soon as I sit up,
he starts crying for his liquid breakfast.
I feel the bed next to me sag as Mulder settles
down behind me, and I know he's put Adam between
us. Carefully, I roll over to say good morning.
"Morning baby," I murmur to Adam, placing a kiss
on his forehead.
"Morning pookie," Mulder responds. I can hear the
smirk in his voice.
"Not you. I was talking to our son." I smile despite
myself, leaning over to give him a chaste, but
meaningful, kiss on his lips.
"So was I," he retorts. "To you I say, 'Good
morning, beautiful.'" He takes the hand that has
been stroking Adam's cheeks and raises it to his
lips, kissing each knuckle in turn. It's times
like this when I wish we'd had a bit more time
together before having a baby. Oh well, beggars
can't be choosers.
"You won't be saying that when I tell you what we
have to do today," I admit, wondering if he remembers.
He groans and throws his head back. "Scully..."
Ah. He remembers.
"Mulder, I told you what Billy said when I told
them, didn't I?" Mulder frowns and shakes his head.
"No? Oh, I thought I did. Well, basically..." I'm
cut off by a hungry boy who's suddenly realized
that the food mobile is open for business. I gather
Adam up in my arms and he attaches himself to my
breast. I look back at Mulder and realize that
he's jealous of his son. "Mulder, about Billy."
He brings his focus from my breast to my face.
"He's gonna kill me," he whines.
"No, he's not. When I told them all about Adam and
Adam's father, Billy just accepted it. He said
that, the next time he saw you, he was just going
to warn you that you better take care of us. I'm
pretty sure Tara talked some sense into him."
Mulder scootches closer to me. "I always did like
your sister-in-law," he mumbled.
I grimace. "Well, you may like Tara, but I don't
think you'll be too fond of Saundra, Charlie's
wife. Neither Tara nor I can stand her, but everyone
else thinks she's just peachy. She's a stereotypical
rich Southern Belle who knows everything about
everyone and isn't afraid to talk about any of it."
I can hear the eye-roll in Mulder's voice. "Oh
goody. Just my type. Sounds like the kids up at
the Vineyard. The kind that avoided me like the
plague after Sam was taken."
"Oh yeah, she'll hate you. You're just the kind
of guy she used to go for, and the kind who
invariably dumped her for someone worthy of their
time."
"So, how'd Charlie end up with her?"
I shrug. "Right place, right time of month, I guess."
Mulder looks at me oddly, so I explain, "Shotgun
wedding. Remember that when she starts whispering
about our illegitimate child. Jason was only
legitimate by two weeks."
Mulder's eyes look away from me, and I realize
that I may have insinuated something that wasn't
meant to come up in casual conversation yet.
"Mulder," I sigh. Before I continue, I pull Adam
off my breast and switch sides. "Look, you just
got back last Tuesday. No one is going to expect
us to have even discussed the subject of marriage
yet, okay? And even if they do bring it up, it
doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here
with Adam and me."
He sits up, a smile on his face. "I love you," he
declares, and though I've heard it many times
these last six days, I still feel a tingle down
my spine at the words. "I love you, Scully, and
as soon as everything is back to normal between
us, I am going to want to marry you. Is that okay?"
I smile. "That's great." I lean forward and kiss
him. "I love you, too."
^*^
10:31 a.m.
To my surprise, we're not the first group to arrive.
I can hear Matty's squeals from the car, and I bet
that if the windows were up, I'd still hear him.
"God, he's huge!" Mulder mutters as he watches
Matty careen around the corner of the house to
greet us. I just nod, realizing that Mulder hasn't
seen my nephew since we stopped by their house in
San Diego just over two years ago.
"He's three now. I last saw him over Labor Day,
and he's even bigger now. Billy's gonna end up
with a giant on his hands." I say this as I open
the door and step out into the street. I then open
the back door to pull out the car seat that doubles
as a baby carrier. Mulder grabs the diaper bag
that's on the other side, and we slam the doors
in unison.
"Auntie Dee, hi hi hi!" He stops abruptly as he
sees Mulder step behind me, placing his hand at
the small of my back. Or maybe he sees Adam in the
carrier. It's probably a combination of them both
that causes Matty's wariness.
"Hi Matty," I say with a smile. "How are you?"
"Okay," he says shyly, then points to Mulder.
"Who's that?"
"You remember Mulder, don't you? He's my, um,
friend." I stumble over my words, trying to find
a description of what Mulder is that a three-year-
old can understand. I can tell what Matty's next
question will be, so I put down the carrier so he
can see his cousin better. "And this is your cousin
Adam."
Matty's face lights up. "He's a baby," he whispers,
his voice full of awe. "Just like Cory next door.
Since Cory is a baby, Wendy is his big sister.
Does Adam have a big sister?"
The thought of Emily leaps to the front of my mind,
but there's no way Matty can understand that. "Nope.
Just Adam. Hey, let's go out back and find your Mom
and Dad and Grandma, okay?"
"'Kay!" he agrees enthusiastically, running full
speed to the backyard, all the while yelling,
"Mommy, there's a baby, just like Cory! There's
a baby!"
Mulder grins at me as I stand up with Adam again.
"Guess we don't get the element of surprise."
I start walking to the back of the house. "It's
probably best that Billy gets a head's up. This
way he can remember to be nice and not make an
ass of himself."
We enter the backyard, met by an excited Tara who
gives Mulder a warm hug.
"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay, Mulder," she admits
as she steps away. "When Dana told us about your
case, I knew there was a chance that..." She
trails off sheepishly, then shakes her head. "But
here you are, safe and sound with your family."
Then she turns to me and takes note of the carrier
at my side. "Oh, and there's baby Adam! May I?"
she asks, and I give my permission as she reaches
down and pulls him into her arms.
"Dana," calls a voice that rumbles in the low
frequency. A voice I know all too well. It's time
for the Ultimate Test of Billy's Word.
All at once, I'm afraid. By big brother was never
great at keeping promises. He was always the first
to tattle on any of us if we did something bad.
Hell, even if we didn't do something bad, he'd
find some way to get us in trouble. He and Missy
used to get in awful fights where they'd each
dredge up all the dirt they could find on each
other and go running to Mom or Dad as soon as
their list was complete. Once Billy went off to
the Naval Academy, they just stopped talking.
They couldn't stand being in the same room together,
which was why she didn't show up for Dad's funeral.
And why Billy couldn't make it to my side when I
returned from my abduction. Missy was friendly
with Tara, though. And knowing what a peacemaker
Tara is, I can't help but wonder if Missy and Billy
might have reconciled if she were still alive.
Billy's walking towards me, opening his arms for
a hug, so I put down the carrier and step into his
embrace. For a moment we're silent, then he whispers,
"I'll be good, Dana. I swear."
I pull back, feeling better about the situation.
Billy can't keep promises, but when he swears
something, it's as good as gold.
Sure enough, Billy approaches Mulder, and though
it isn't with open arms, there is a hint of a
smile on his face.
"Glad to see you made it back, Mulder. Adam's gonna
need a father, and though you may not be number one
on my list, you're in the top ten." He holds out
his right hand, and Mulder takes it, shock evident
on his face.
"Thanks, Bill. That's all I ask." I knew Mulder
could be diplomatic. Now if only he'll apply these
skills to the FBI brass...
^*^
3:30 p.m.
Today has been such a wonderful day. Right now I
watch Mulder playing with Matty and Alexis, who's
six. From even our earliest cases I knew that he
would be a wonderful father. Granted, for the first
year or so I didn't think he'd be the father of my
children, but I knew that some woman would end up
very lucky.
I am so thankful to be that woman.
I can't wait for Adam to grow up. I want to see
him play a game of catch or one-on-one with his
dad. Of course, at the same time, I want Adam to
stay little forever. Five months and he's already
too old.
Sometimes at night, I imagine what our lives will
be like five, ten years from now. It sounds so far
away, but then I think about where I was just five,
ten years ago, and I realize that it's not that far
at all. I look at Saundra, and I swear to myself
that I will not let my little boy end up with a
manipulative woman like her.
But then I look at Billy, and I realize that I've
been acting toward Saundra just like Billy used
to act toward Mulder. Except I keep it to myself.
Just the same, I vow to try and put a positive
spin on Saundra, since if she hasn't gone by now,
she never will. Well, she is a good mother to
their three kids. I could trust her with Adam in
the event that neither Mom nor Tara were available.
I hear a familiar cry come from the baby monitor
that's sitting on the grass next to my chair. I
stand up to get Adam before Mulder's DaddyRadar
picks up on the sound and pulls him inside and
away from the two youngsters who want his attention
right now. As much as I enjoy not being on call
every time Adam cries now, I do think Mulder's
going a bit overboard, and I want to reassert my
right to a quiet moment with my son.
God knows they're the first quiet times I've had
in years.
^*^*^
VI - The Immortal
[[A voice from beyond brings answers to
Mulder and Scully]]
June 17, 2001
10:13 a.m.
He's happy as a clam this morning. Right now he's
watching SportsCenter's highlights from last
night's Knicks game -- they beat the Lakers to
win the Championship in five games. I'm glad I
stocked up on baby-sized Knick paraphernalia,
since Adam's been clothed in nothing else for the
last two weeks. Mulder's assured me that today is
the last day.
But the crazy part is, he doesn't even realize that
today is so much more than The Day After the Knicks
Won the NBA Championship Day. Which really shouldn't
surprise me, since he never really had to think
about this day before. Not since Samantha was taken,
I'm sure.
Today is Father's Day.
And now that I think about it, I barely remembered
Mother's Day this year. It only occurred to me
when I was in the grocery store and saw all the
cards. And I didn't even realize then -- with Adam
in the cart even! -- that I would get a card this
year. But I did get one for my mother. When I gave
it to her, she smiled and just handed me one of
her own. That's when it really hit me that I was
a mother. Before it had just been that I had a
baby now. But Adam can't talk, so he doesn't call
me 'mom' or anything, and it's easy to forget what
I am to my baby.
So I think Mulder's suffering from the same problem.
He knows he's a daddy, but I bet he forgets he's
a father. I know, same difference. But I do see a
bit of a difference between mother and mommy, so
there's got to be a difference between father and
daddy. Right?
Adam laughs loudly, and I move from the bedroom
doorway where I've been standing to see what the
commotion is all about.
Mulder's lying on the floor with a couple pillows
to elevate his head so he can see the TV comfortably.
His knees are bent, and Adam's propped in the crook
of his waist. The Knicks onesie Adam was wearing
ten minutes ago is in a pile on the floor, and
he's being gently tickled by his daddy. I grin,
realizing I've stumbled upon the perfect opportunity.
"Is Daddy tickling you, Adam?" I ask in the happy
voice that seemed to appear out of nowhere about
five seconds after I gave birth.
"Not at all," Mulder denies, quickly placing his
hands under his head. "He's just as thrilled as
I am about the game last night."
I chuckle as I sit down Indian-style (is that
term PC?) next to my boys, carefully keeping the
envelope out of Mulder's sight. "Right. He got
woken up at a very late hour because of that game.
He got a snack because of that game."
Mulder pulls one of his hands from behind his head
and softly ruffles the sparse hair on Adam's head.
"You know, this kid's got a pretty good life. I'd
forgotten how babies have their every wish granted
simply by letting out a good wail. I'm jealous."
"Yeah," I agree, adjusting myself so I'm laying
down next to him. "And his wishes aren't even that
specific."
His other hand comes out from behind his head and
takes mine. "You know, I almost wasted my third
wish on you," he says.
My mind tries to figure out what he would have
wished for, but it gets tripped up by one of his
words. "Wait. 'Wasted'? A wish for me would have
been wasted?"
I notice that his hand lightly grips Adam's arm
as he turns his eyes away from the baby and meet
mine. "Well, sure. If I'm not dreaming right now --
and I don't think I am -- then I've gotten what I
would have wished for anyway. So it obviously would
have been a waste. And I feel much better knowing
there's one more cynical person wandering around
the city with a Starbucks cup in her hand."
We laugh, and after a quick tickle Adam joins in,
too. I don't know how I ever thought that I could
live a fulfilling life without this.
"Mulder," I say, reaching to my side and fumbling
around for the card, "you seem to have forgotten
a very important date."
His 'panic face' breaks through his smile, and I
can tell he's wracking his brain trying to decide
what birthday or anniversary he's forgotten. With
a smile, I hand him the card.
"Don't worry, you weren't supposed to buy me
anything," I tease.
He takes the envelope and studies it, a frown
creasing his brow. His curiosity takes over and
he opens it and pulls out the card. Mulder's eyes
widen as he reads it, and the inside note brings
tears to his eyes.
"Thank you, Scully," he whispers, the sincerity
and emotion in his voice nearly bringing me to
tears as well. He starts to lean over to kiss me,
but he stops when he realizes the baby's perilous
position.
"You're very welcome, Dad," I respond. I complete
his lean and our lips meet for a brief kiss that
would have been chaste, had it not been so achingly
long since we've been alone together. He groans as
I pull away, and I'm glad to know I'm not the only
one who feels this way.
"Hey Mom? Can I skip the tie this year? I'd much
rather send Adam off with his grandma tonight."
I'm on my feet as quickly as possible while avoiding
a head rush and picking up the phone. Before Mulder
can even sit up, I've dialed and am anxiously
listening to each ring.
Mom finally picks up. "Hello?"
"Mom? Can you baby-sit tonight?"
^*^
10:47 p.m.
The *ding* of the elevator doors pulls us from our
clench; luckily, there are no neighbors waiting to
witness our wild behavior. As we stumble down the
hall to the apartment, it occurs to me that we must
look positively wasted. Right. Breast-feeding does
not allow for booze, and Mulder has been an absolute
gentleman by staying in a dry spell of his own.
Actually, we've been having two dry spells, one
of which is about to become very, very wet.
I giggle, thinking that I'm already very, very wet.
And I don't mean the rain outside.
But as we stand at the door, trying to unlock it
quickly, a feeling of unease comes over me. There's
an odd smell in the hallway, one that I've smelled
before, just never here. Mulder notices my sudden
stillness, and he opens his mouth to say something;
I cup my hand over it before he utters a word.
I can't figure out what's going on, so I finish
unlocking the door and slowly push it open. I flip
on the lights, and I'm relieved to see that nothing
looks out of the ordinary.
"Whoa!" Mulder cries, grabbing on to my shoulder.
I look at him, then follow his eyes downward. He's
just slipped on an envelope that lies just inside
the door. It must have been pushed underneath.
He reaches down for it. "No," I say, grabbing his
hand. "Prints," I add, and he nods and walks to
the kitchen for a pair of gloves. I've found latex
to be very useful when dealing with baby diarrhea.
He comes back with the gloves on, then bends to
pick up the envelope. The other side simply says
'Fox' in bold, capital letters. Virtually useless
to analyze.
I give Mulder a push toward the living room, and
we're soon seated on the couch. "Open it," I urge.
I still feel uneasy about this, but I don't feel
a sense of danger. We won't blow ourselves to
kingdom come, but I doubt we'll like what's inside.
Inside is a type-written letter. Courier font,
regular margins. Again, analysis will probably be
useless. Together, we begin to read:
Fox,
If you've received this letter, then you should
know that I am dead. I am no longer a threat to you.
You'll probably never know how or when, but trust me
just this once: I am gone forever. Well, almost.
Fox, men like me have simple desires in their
lives. We want money, power, and immortality. While
the first two are quite easily achieved, the last
is rather hard to come by. Many have tried their
own techniques to gain immortality. Some have
cryogenically frozen all or part of their bodies.
Some have made their names well known so that all
the world will remember them always. But I have
taken a simpler route. A route taken by billions
of people over time, many of who do not know that
they are becoming immortal.
Procreation.
Yes, the simple act of passing my genes to
another generation has sealed my immortality. Of
course, this act counts for nothing unless it is
continued. Which is where you come in.
As much as it will hurt you to admit, you must
know that Bill Mulder was not your biological father.
He wasn't Samantha's, either. He was supposed to
give your mother a child, but we found out too
late that he was sterile. And by that time he was
already raising two children who weren't his. We,
your mother and I, never told him that I fathered
you, but I suppose he figured it all out in the
end. That's why you weren't taken as originally
planned. It was to be Bill's child who would suffer
the tests. And when Samantha proved to be mine as
well, then I arranged for her to be taken by
different people, my people. She faced different
tests, horrible in their own right, but nowhere
near as horrible as the other ones. I still mourn
her death, though I feel no remorse for pulling
you in the wrong direction for so many years.
You see, you were my last chance for immortality.
I had hope for many years, but after you and Diana
parted company, I began to fear that you would
become a virtual hermit, living stubbornly in the
basement with your files, scaring off anyone who
dared darken your doorstep.
And then Agent Scully came along.
I didn't realize until after the X-Files were
first closed how she could help save my plans. My
colleagues wanted to abduct her, and I, knowing
what procedures went on during the abductions,
saw my perfect opportunity. When they induced super-
ovulation, I stole one of the vials, much like you
did at the research facility. I used alien cloaking
technology and hid the ova in one of her ovaries.
Don't look so surprised; if they can hide a whole
spaceship, they can hide, and hold in place, a
few dozen ova.
I waited patiently for the time to be right.
When I was confident in the feelings you both held
for (and from) each other, I set my trap. I lured
with the promise of the ultimate cure. I'm sure
you quickly discovered that the disk she ended up
with was blank. I must apologize for the deception,
but it was essential to my plan. She may have told
you about how I drugged her, how she woke up in a
strange bed in her pajamas, not knowing how she
got into them. I did that, but only so she would
be comfortable.
There is, in fact, a disk that can control the
implant that sits just under her skin. This implant,
which you believe simply put her cancer into
remission, actually regulates many of her systems.
You may have noticed that she heals remarkably
fast form serious wounds. She doesn't catch colds
or the flu easily at all. And, when instructed by
my disk, the implant removed the cloak from the
ova that still reside in her. She wouldn't notice
any difference, of course, because the implant
also regulates her menstrual cycle.
During that trip, I also planted an idea into
her subconscious. I told her she wouldn't allow
herself to love you. If you're receiving this
letter, then obviously she does now.
This letter was to be delivered to you the
first Father's Day after my death, unless otherwise
directed. I wasn't sure if I would live to see my
grandchild, and obviously I haven't. Had I lived,
I'd have delivered this message to you in person.
Thank you, Fox, for helping me achieve immortality.
Thank your lovely partner for me as well. Or is she
your wife now? Congratulations to you both, and
Happy Father's Day.
CGBS
I stare at the paper, my jaw dropped in shock.
I'd always suspected that that evil old man had
done something to me that day, but I never thought
that this was on his agenda.
I try to hate him for what he did, but it's damn
near impossible. I can hate him for doing it
without my knowledge, but that's about it. I
almost feel grateful to the son of a bitch.
"Scully," Mulder whispers, "what have we done?"
He drops the letter and reaches over to his desk
to pick up a framed picture of Adam taken just
days after birth.
I know he wants to hear harsh words come from my
mouth; he hopes that I'm appalled by this invasion
to my body and our lives. But I'm going to
disappoint him.
"Well, we may not have known it, but we created
a human being one night when we finally showed
each other how much we love one another. Despite
the selfish desire for immortality that provided
the means, the fact remains that Adam's only here
because of love. Doesn't that count for something?
I mean, it's not like he took a sample from you
and one from me and mixed them together in a
Petrie dish. We did have a choice in the matter.
"And no matter what pop psych crap he may have
fed me, it wasn't his words that told me it was
time. It was the whole Daniel incident. And what
Colleen told me. To be honest, I hadn't even
remembered that he'd said that to me until just
now. As much as I want to hate him for it, I'm
finding it very hard to do so."
Still clutching the picture, Mulder falls against
the back of the couch. "I know, Scully. I feel
the same way. Maybe, if he had told us about what
he'd done before we conceived, then maybe I could
hate him. Because then I'd think about it every
time we'd want to make love, and I'm sure we'd
have arguments about whether to try and have a
baby, or deny that man his immortality. But now...
now it's already happened. I wish I didn't know,
but it is a bit reassuring to know how it happened."
"And of course," I add, "we can't be absolutely
sure that this is the gospel truth. He's lied
before. Maybe he's not even really dead and he's
just messing with us one more time."
Mulder is quiet as he absorbs that idea. I get
the feeling that this letter won't be spoken of
ever again, and eventually he'll go back to
believing that Adam was a miracle that came about
completely unaided. And I may make a conscious
decision to do the same.
But subconsciously, I'll always know different.
And I find myself hoping that what the letter
says is the gospel truth. Because that means I
still have ova, and with ova comes the chance for
more children.
Old men with money and power aren't the only ones
who entertain the idea of immortality.
^*^*^
VII - Domestication
[[It's time for the inevitable: marriage and a
townhouse]]
August 4, 2001
8:56 p.m.
Christ, this man's going to be the death of me.
I guess I knew that the first time I dragged my
ass after his soon-to-be-very-sorry ass when he
ditched me. When was that again? Oh yeah, Idaho.
Second case. Go figure.
To be fair, this time he hasn't caused my heart
to stop because of some precarious position he's
gotten us into. Oh no, this is much more civilized.
We've finally been able to leave Adam with Mom
every other Saturday while we go out and act like
adults. Then we come home and act like adults who
are very much in love and attracted to each other.
After more than a year of missing him in an
intimate way, it's nice to have a routine to
stick to.
But tonight...
Mom had spent the day with a friend of hers in
McLean, so she offered to pick Adam up on her way
home so we wouldn't have to drive all the way up
to Baltimore. That was fine with us. We figured
we could grab an earlier dinner and maybe even
catch a movie or something.
Wrong. Tonight we didn't even make it out the
front door. I didn't even make it into my dress.
I think the heat got to us; the temperature peaked
at 107 in the shade. He'd been walking around the
place bare-chested all day long, with old shorts
that were down to their last, strategically-placed
threads. I suppose I didn't help much, going bra-
less with a tight tank and equally tight spandex
shorts. So I didn't do much laundry this week. So
sue me.
But, in all honesty, it's not even this extreme
physical exertion in extreme heat that's stopped
my heart tonight. It came close, but not quite.
No, my heart stopped when I laid eyes on the rock
nestled in velvet that he's holding out to me.
"Scully?" His voice has a tinge of worry in it,
and I realize that I haven't responded yet.
"Mulder...where's all this coming from? I mean,
it's out of nowhere, you know?"
He just shrugs. "It just seems like the right
time. I'm working full-time again, and I know you
want to cut back your hours some. It just makes
sense. But if you have a problem..."
Once again, that worry works its way into his
voice, and I hold my hand up to stop it. "I don't
have a problem. Yes, Mulder, I will marry you.
That was never a question in my mind. But like I
said, it just seemed to come from left field."
"Well, at least you're surprised," he quips,
pulling me close in for a kiss to seal our deal.
We're getting married. Jesus.
^*^*^
August 5, 2001
11:08 a.m.
Mulder screeches the car to a halt along the curb
outside Mom's house. I'm surprised how excited he
is to see her this morning. He's always glad to
pick up Adam after a night of releasing all of
our tensions, but today is different. Today, Adam
is one step closer to not being a bastard child
anymore.
Yes, I realize that since he was born to an unwed
mother, he's technically illegitimate, but he'll
never have to know. I doubt we'll even remember
the date of our anniversary, never mind how many
years it's been.
I step calmly out of the car, trying not to notice
how he's already *skipping* to the front door.
Still calm, I walk behind him up the front steps.
He's already inside, calling for Mom and Adam. I
hear the baby respond, letting out a shriek to
raise the dead.
"Morning, Dana," Mom says from behind me, where
she's just come out of the bathroom.
"Hi, Mom," I respond. I give her a hug, and we
walk arm-in-arm into the kitchen, where Mulder's
found his son and is presently wiping him clean
of his breakfast.
"Hello, Fox. Did you sleep well?" She's looking
at the table as she says this, but I can still
see the smirk on her face. I gently elbow her in
the ribs.
Mulder just smiles even wider and picks up Adam.
"Like a baby, Ma- Mom."
I smile at his correction. He's always called my
mother by her first name, but I guess now he
figures he's earned the right to call her Mom.
He's a smart man, but he never realized that he's
always had that right.
Mom also notes the change, and I can see the wheels
turning in her head. I keep my mouth shut though;
Mulder insisted on breaking the news himself.
Slipping my arm from Mom's, I step over to him,
holding my hands out to receive my son. Adam smiles
happily, he's a morning person, just like I was
as a kid. I hope this trait carries through high
school, 'cause I saw Missy and Charlie, and I do
not need grumps like them at five-thirty in the
morning. Mulder's bad enough.
Wait, did I say high school? I'm sorry, I'm mistaken.
My baby boy's never growing up. Ever. So there.
"So, Mom," Mulder says oh-so-casually. "What are
you doing next Saturday?"
The gears in her head start cranking at twice the
speed. "Saturday? The eleventh?" Mulder just nods.
"I don't think I have plans. Why, what's up?"
"Oh, not much." He steps behind me, placing one
arm around my waist, and rubbing Adam's head with
his free hand. "We were just thinking that you'd
like to come with us while we do some chores. You
know, odds and ends. Some clothes shopping, pick
up a realtor's guide, get married, that sort of
thing."
I successfully keep my laughter in as Mom's eyes
narrow then widen as she realizes the words that
were hidden in plain "sight" in Mulder's little
diatribe.
"What?!" she screeches. "You better be serious,
Fox Mulder, or I have half a mind to..."
He starts to laugh, and I finally let my own
laughter loose. Mom just stares at us, and I think
that she really thinks we're just kidding around.
"He's serious, Mom," I reassure her. "We figured
it's time to get ourselves settled, you know? We're
also going to start looking for a bigger apartment
or a townhouse or something, and I..." I pause,
not sure if this is the right time to say this.
Ever since Ronnie was assigned to the X-Files,
I've entertained the notion that she could take
my place once Mulder was back. Now he's been back
for two-and-a-half months, and he's been doing
fieldwork full-time for the last month. I've
continued going in for my normal full-time desk
job, but mostly to act as a buffer while Mulder
got used to the idea of actually working with
someone who wasn't me. And now, he's said that
he's okay with me cutting back my hours, so I
think I see the perfect opportunity for me to
bow out.
I want to be home with my son, it's as simple as
that.
Mom and Mulder are staring at me, waiting for me
to finish my sentence. I turn a bit so I can look
into Mulder's eyes. "I think it's time for me to
leave the Bureau."
Mom gasps, but doesn't argue. I know she's been
wanting me to be a stay-at-home mother ever since
Adam was born, but she also knew that without
Mulder, I had to earn income somehow.
But it's Mulder's reaction that really surprises
me. I expect him to put up a fight, claiming that
he can't work without me, beg me to at least work
part-time. But instead, he just nods.
"I figured that's what you were leaning towards,"
he admits. "I don't see any reasons for you to
stay anymore. We know about Samantha, the Project
is defunct now that CGB Spender's dead..."
"We think," I amend. "We hope."
"Yes we do. Anyway, Adam should have his mother
with him all the time. Not that his grandmother
is an inefficient babysitter," he corrects with
a smile, looking at Mom.
She just nods. "It's okay, Fox. I'd much rather
baby-sit once every two weeks, if that's all right
with you."
I smile and place a kiss on Adam's soft, blonde
hair. "That's wonderful."
^*^*^
August 11, 2001
1:24 p.m.
There are five of us sitting outside the magistrate's
office this afternoon. One is an eight-month-old
baby who's quietly snoozing in his carrier. Mom
and Skinner are seated across the hall, chatting
softly about God knows what. Probably something
to do with the little ceremony we're about to go
through.
Mulder is sitting next to me, on the other side
of the baby. He's not saying anything, just looking
down at his hands, which are folded in his lap.
Stupid self-doubt.
"Mulder," I whisper, careful not to wake the baby.
"What's wrong?"
He looks up, and his face shows confusion.
"Nothing's wrong. Why?"
"Well, you looked..." I make a gesture with my
hand, unsure of how to describe his outward
appearance. "You looked like something was wrong."
Mulder shakes his head, a smile forming on his
lips. "Nope. Sorry if you got the wrong impression.
I am quite content, and I will be even more content
when we leave this building."
I'm about to second his feelings when the door to
our left opens, and an elderly woman steps out.
"Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?"
We stand at our names, and she motions for us to
follow her into the office. Without my asking, Mom
grabs the carrier and joins us. She and Skinner
are our witnesses. Mulder was a bit wary about
asking Skinner to play the role, but we needed
two and there was no way we could split the Gunmen.
So Skinner was our only option. Not that we told
him that.
Behind the desk sits a kind-looking middle-aged
man; the plaque on the desktop identifies him as
Mr. James Newman. "Good afternoon, Dana, Fox." He
stands as he says this and holds out his right hand.
"Good afternoon," I return, shaking his hand.
Mulder does the same, and doesn't bother correcting
Mr. Newman about his name.
"So, you two wan to be married, am I correct?" We
nod our heads, and he looks over at the other
three people in the room. "And these are your
witnesses?"
I nod again, then introduce them. "This is my
mother, Maggie Scully, a good friend of ours,
Walter Skinner, and, um..." I find myself pausing
in embarrassment. Mr. Newman will certainly be
wondering why we didn't get married before the
baby was born, but I'm not in the mood to explain
a thing.
"Our son, Adam," Mulder finishes, without a hint
of embarrassment, only pride. To his credit, Mr.
Newman doesn't even raise an eyebrow.
"Wonderful. Well, let's get this underway, shall
we?"
^*^*^
August 17, 2001
2:22 p.m.
Ronnie sighs as she picks up my nameplate from
the desk. "You know, Dana, it's going to be really
boring around here with you gone. I was just
getting used to hearing you two argue about these
cases. There's no way I can recreate that feeling
with him."
I grin. "Good. That's what made me fall in love
with him, and I don't need you falling in love
with my husband!" We laugh together, carefully
packing the contents of my desk into the large
box on the chair.
Today is my last day. It's kind of sad; I never
could imagine being happy without the X-Files or
the Bureau. But now, I just look at my son and I
know that I'm doing the right thing.
"Speaking of your husband," Ronnie says, placing
extra emphasis on the word 'husband,' "where is he?"
"He's up with Skinner. Something about some earned
vacation time." I waggle my eyebrows happily.
Mulder has insisted that we go on a honeymoon, so
he's trying to work out a possible schedule. "But,"
I add, glancing at my watch, "he better be done
soon. We've got an appointment with our realtor
in two hours."
"Ooo. Where're you looking?" Ronnie stops packing
and perches on the corner of the desk.
"There's a development of townhouses in Ellicott
City that we're interested in. It's really close
to my mother, which is great for babysitting
purposes. I always feel guilty when she drives
all the way down from Catonsville."
When I suggested the idea of moving up closer to
Baltimore, Mulder wasn't completely thrilled at
first. He doesn't relish the thought of commuting
down I-95 in rush hour traffic, but he's beginning
to see the sense in it. I'm hoping that this place
we're looking at will get his approval; I saw it
years ago when Mom and I were doing some lazy
driving around, and even then I thought that I
might like to move there if I were to somehow ever
have a family. Luckily, there are a few townhouses
for sale right now.
The door behind me opens. I turn to see Mulder
stride into the office, and the look on his face...
oh dear. He's got something up his sleeve, that's
for sure. I just pray he hasn't booked airline
tickets without my input.
"Hey!" he greets us. Mulder looks at me and asks,
"Ready to get going?"
"Just a few more minutes," I respond, turning back
to my packing. The only things that are left to
pack are the various knickknacks in my desk. The
last few days I moved all of my equipment out of
the office, stuff that neither Mulder nor Ronnie
will have much use for without me there to work
it for them.
"I'm gonna go get a soda," Ronnie says suddenly.
She leaves the room, and I realize she's giving
us some privacy.
The meaning of this moment abruptly hits me: I
will never work with Mulder again. I won't be
seeing him 24/7. I won't have to watch another
slide show, or dispute one of his theories.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I reach for him. He
embraces me while I think of all the times I
wanted to do this when we were just partners. Now
that I'm allowed to do this whenever I want, we're
no longer partners in work. Sure, we'll always be
partners in life, but never again Mulder and Scully.
Just Mr. and Mrs. Mulder. Just Mom and Dad. Don't
get me wrong, those are great names to be known
by, but...
I feel his lips press against my cheek, then my
earlobe. "You'll always be Scully to me," he
whispers in my ear. I smile; he can still read
my mind.
"Thank you, Mulder," I reply. I take in a deep
breath and step back
"No, Scully, thank you. I may still be the FBI's
Most Unwanted, but I'll take that any day, as
long as I'm Dana Scully's Most Desperately Wanted."
A breath of laughter escapes me, and I hear myself
mumble, "That's not even a top ten list. There's
just one spot, and it's all yours."
He grins. "I know," he says arrogantly.
I shake my head at his cockiness, but I know he
knows. I look one last time at my desk and see
that everything's been placed in the box. With a
sigh, I pick up said box and motion to the door.
"Come on, Mr. Mulder. Townhouses await."
"I'm right behind you, Mrs. Mulder."
^*^*^
September 28, 2001
12:32 p.m.
"Okay, Dana, if you would just sign this line
here..."
I follow Keri's instructions as she points to
several places for me to sign. I've gotten pretty
good at my new signature in the past month. Dana
K. Mulder. The first time I tried it just felt so
weird that I called my mother and asked how she
got used to signing 'Margaret E. Scully' instead
of 'Margaret E. Perry'. We both laughed as she
admitted to spending a whole hour just writing
her signature over and over on blank pieces of
paper. That night, I did the same, and now I don't
even think about it anymore.
"Great!" says Keri Leigh as I sign the last line.
"Everything's done. Congratulations Mulders, you
just bought yourself a house!"
I sit back and sign in victory. The past month
I've been hearing tales of closings gone horribly
wrong, and for the past week I've been a nervous
wreck. Mulder's been very understanding and
reassured me that nothing would go wrong, but it
didn't really help much. Even Adam's noticed my
change in disposition; he's crawling now, and I
often find him crawling away from me the minute
Mulder gets home. I try not to take offense, but...
But that's water under the bridge. The closing
has gone perfectly, and we now own 291A West
Chestnut Street in Ellicott City, Maryland. And
thanks to an unexpected inheritance Mulder got
from an aunt he hadn't see or heard from in at
least twenty years, we only have a five-year
mortgage.
It took me three days to convince Mulder that the
house was perfect. Three bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms,
living room, kitchen, and dining room. Small, yes,
but it's bigger than our one bedroom apartment.
We'll make the extra bedroom into a study/guestroom.
And one small part of me, the part that still
believes in fairy tale endings, thinks that maybe
one day we'll really need that third bedroom.
But for now, everything's perfect.
^*^*^
VIII - Honeymoon on the AD
[[A call from Hollywood means only one thing:
Premiere time, baby!]]
November 10, 2001
9:30 a.m.
"Come on, Adam, big step...Good job! Okay, another
one...Yea!" With me cheering him on, Adam makes
his way from the sofa to the recliner across the
room. He's still tightly holding on to my hands,
but his steps are becoming more confident each
day. It wouldn't surprise me if he's walking by
his birthday.
Mulder starts clapping as he enters the room and
sees what all the commotion is about. "As proud
as I am of him," he says slowly, "are you sure we
want him toddling around here so soon? I mean, we
can barely catch him when he crawls!"
I guide Adam over to his father. "Yes," I agree,
just as slowly. "But, Billy and Tara are coming
out here for Christmas this year. And Matty didn't
learn to walk until he was nearly a year-and-a-
half."
"Da Da Da," Adam warbles as he reaches Mulder's
legs. In response, Mulder bends down to pick him
up.
"Well, I guess if Adam can beat Matty to that
milestone, then I guess I can't complain."
I chuckle at the stuffy pride in Mulder's voice.
Although Billy's made it a point to try and get
to know Mulder better, he still holds some obvious
resentment towards my husband. And when Billy was
last here for a visit, he made a few comments about
how Adam was a bit behind Matty in the milestone
department. Tara assured me later that Billy was
completely wrong and that Adam was actually ahead
of schedule, but we decided to let my big brother
think whatever he wanted to on that subject.
So Mulder relishes everything that Adam does,
especially when it happens earlier than it did
for Matty.
He kisses Adam's still-blonde hair, then gently
places him on the floor. "You packed yet?" he asks
me, his eyes giving away his excitement.
"No, not completely. I do have other things to do
with my time," I chide, poking him in the chest.
He catches my hand and pulls it to his lips. He's
about to kiss my palm when our moment is interrupted
by a thunk and a wail.
I spin around, pulling back my hand, to see Adam
sitting up about a step from the couch. I begin
walking over to him to calm him down, when I
realize what must have happened.
"Mulder, he was trying to do it all by himself!"
I say in amazement. I only began helping him walk
five days ago. This kid is amazing.
"Does Mom know?" he asks, disappearing into the
kitchen. "'Cause if she doesn't, she's in for one
helluva surprise!"
"I haven't spoken to her all week," I admit. Adam
stops crying and crawls into my lap, eager for
comfort. "She's doing this fundraiser at church
tomorrow, and she's really preoccupied."
He comes back into the living room with a glass
of orange juice in his hand. "Well, maybe she
shouldn't baby-sit then. I mean..."
I shake my head. "No, she'll be fine with Adam.
The fundraiser is a children's concert. And she's
already told the other members of the group that
she'd be babysitting. All she has to do tomorrow
is show up." I realize we've strayed a bit from
the original line of discussion. "What about you,
have you packed?"
He nods proudly as he flops down on the couch,
placing his legs on either side of me. "Yep. I
did it yesterday while you were in the office."
A month after I left my job, I realized that even
with Adam keeping me busy, I missed doing real work
terribly. I called the Baltimore Field Office and
asked them if they wanted any help with autopsies
or other forensic work that I could do. Now I go
into the city once every two weeks and they usually
find something for me to do. It feels good to keep
up with Bureau happenings. Mulder never figured out
how much I enjoy good gossip, so he doesn't pay
attention for me; working in Baltimore lets me
keep in touch with the sixteen-year-old in me.
"Actually, I just need to pick up my tux. The
tailor said it should be done by noon today, so
we can just pick up on our way to BWI."
The image of Mulder in a tux comes to the front
of my mind, and I'm momentarily distracted, missing
everything he says. I'm sure it's something I agree
with, so I just nod.
Adam crawls out of my lap and latches on to
Mulder's leg. His fists curled around the denim
of his father's blue jeans, he pulls himself to
a standing position much to his delight. Bravely,
he lets go with hand, reaching out towards Mulder,
and saying in his BabyTalk, "Da Da Da."
With a grin, Mulder heaves Adam into his lap.
"It's like living with that Volkswagen commercial."
I laugh with him, and Adam joins in.
^*^*^
4:39 p.m.
I sigh and roll my neck to relieve the cramps that
have settled in. The view of clouds outside my
window catches my eye; it's been a long time since
I've flown anywhere.
There's a break in the clouds, and I can see huge
patches of green, varying shades, of course. I can
make out large barns and silos. Must be the Midwest.
A flight attendant is making his way down our
aisle, offering blankets and pillows for the third
time since take-off. First class can get really
annoying. Besides, I already have the most
comfortable pillow I could ever ask for: Mulder.
Of course, right now Mulder's using my shoulder
as his pillow.
I glance across the aisle to Skinner, who's
engrossed in an issue of "Producer's Monthly". I
roll my eyes; he's really gone over the edge about
the whole Associate Producer bit. Hopefully, this
movie won't do so hot, and our esteemed AD will
realize he's much better suited for law enforcement.
Yes, the movie. Wayne Federman called about three
months ago announcing the official release date,
as well as inviting us to the premiere that would
occur earlier in the week. Mulder and I figured
that would be the best time for our delayed honey-
moon, so we accepted.
The premiere is tomorrow night, and we're staying
tonight and tomorrow in a hotel that Wayne has
generously paid for. Separate rooms, though.
Apparently Skinner failed to mention that we're
married now. Oh well. Not my money. But I have
big plans for that bubble bath this time.
^*^*^
November 11, 2001
5:20 p.m.
"Wow."
I look up from trying to fasten my bracelet to
see the stunned and pleased gape of my husband.
I smile in return, and I lower my gaze to take
in his outfit for the evening. Delectable as
always.
"You're pretty 'wow' yourself," I tell him sincerely.
He picks up his jaw and grins, then walks towards
me and takes the bracelet in his hand.
"Where'd you get this?" he asks in his 'I'm up to
something' voice.
"It was a graduation present after med school," is
what I say. I don't mention that it's from Daniel.
When I left Daniel, I almost threw it out, but for
some reason I kept it. I found it last year when I
cleaned out my apartment; I can wear it now that
there are no emotions attached to it anymore, now
that's it's just a pretty bracelet.
"Hmm." He steps away from me, taking the bracelet.
I'm about to protest, but I can tell that if I'm
good, I'll get something even better. Something
that does have feelings with it.
"Well, since we are here on our honeymoon, and
since I never got you a suitable wedding present,"
I bite my lip to refrain from saying anything, "I
thought it would be appropriate if I got you a
little something for tonight."
He pulls a long jewelry box from the inner pocket
of his tux jacket and hands it to me. It's wrapped
in silver paper with gold ribbon, but I really
don't take time to admire the wrapping job. With
the excitement of a six-year-old at Christmas, I
tear it open and lift off the top.
Inside lie two chains of gold. One is a necklace,
the other a bracelet. They're obviously a set, and
they each hold a single stone in their centers.
It's a light blue, and I look at Mulder questioningly
and ask, "Turquoise?"
He nods. "That's December's birthstone. I figured
tonight would be a good night for a subtle reminder,
since Skinner asked us..." He trails off, throwing
his hands up in annoyance.
Skinner came to our room (well, technically my
room) earlier today and asked us if we wouldn't
mind not 'acting married' tonight. Apparently
there's a part that Skinner just found out about,
and our being married might cause his friend a
great deal of embarrassment. We agreed, reluctantly,
though God knows I'm going to have a hard time
keeping my hands off Mulder tonight.
"They're beautiful, Mulder. Thank you," I say,
craning my neck back and rising on my toes to
kiss him. I wish I'd put my shoes on.
He pulls back much too soon and takes the box from
my hand. "Need help with the necklace?"
I turn around and look in the mirror. I'm wearing
a high-necked dress, and I think even my cross
might be a bit much for the outfit. "Actually,"
I say, hating to disappoint him, "I think I'll
forego the necklace tonight." His eyes give away
his regret, and I hurry to make it go away. "But,"
I add in my sexy voice I know will get his attention,
"maybe it's all I'll wear the rest of our...
honeymoon."
I see him gulp and I grin. No more disappointment;
all I can see in his stormy-hazel eyes is desire.
A little voice deep in my brain reminds me that
we're supposed to keep our hands *off* each other
tonight, but I do my best to ignore it.
A pounding on the door brings us out of our bubble.
Mulder leaves the bathroom to go answer it, and I
use the few extra seconds to make sure my hair is
straight and my lipstick is on just my lips. I
then follow Mulder's footsteps, heading to the
safe that the hotel provides with each room.
"Good evening, Scully," says Skinner in a slightly
choked voice that I'm going to take as a compliment.
"Hello, Skinner." Despite the level of closeness
we developed last year as we searched for Mulder,
I've never felt comfortable addressing him by his
first name. Apparently the feeling is mutual.
"Mulder, have you used the safe yet?" I ask as I
gather the few expensive items that I plan to tuck
away. He answers negatively, so I quickly think
of a six-digit number to use as my personal code.
Easy: 100212. I carefully place the necklace and
my old bracelet inside, keep Mulder's in my hand
so he can help me with it on the way to the theater.
With great remorse I slip off my rings; I haven't
taken them off once since they went on. I remind
Mulder to do the same, and I can see the pain in
his eyes as he hands his wedding ring to me. I
doubt his has come off, either.
With a sigh I lock everything up, then sit on the
edge of the bed to put on my shoes. Task completed,
and with Skinner nervously looking at his watch,
I take Mulder's offered arm (much to Skinner's
annoyance) and we head out the door.
Hollywood, here we come.
^*^*^
1:15 a.m.
It's been a very long time since I was up this
late without even a nap somewhere along the way.
But I've been having too much fun to think about
the time.
Mulder's asking our driver a question, and from
the pleased look on his face as he settles back
next to me, I'm guessing he got the answer he was
looking for.
"What's up?"
He shook his head. "Nothing, really. I just asked
Jerome up there if he wouldn't mind waiting for us
to gather our things so he can take us to the B&B
tonight."
"But, we don't start renting it until tomorrow,"
I point out. Before he can say anything, though,
I realize what he's done. "You called them, didn't
you?"
"After I left the movie," he nods. "They'll let
us take it tonight, but we have to pay an extra
fee to cover the lateness of their notification."
I bite my lip, concerned as always about matters
of money. Mulder's still grinning, though, so it
can't be all bad...
"Luckily," he says, reaching into his tux jacket,
"we don't have to pay..." He pulls out the Bureau
card, and I know my face lights up with the smile
that spreads over my face.
"Thank you, AD Skinner!" I giggle, and I find myself
wishing we hadn't paid for the rest of the week
already. Oh well. Our one night on the Bureau won't
be wasted, that's for sure!
^*^*^
4 out of 5 doctors say expressing your enjoyment of a fanfic
to its author increases your life expectancy 23-23.8 years.
The other doctor was killed by Cancerman before we could ask
him.
jeri, president, xpab: x-philes against bees
Join by writing to: kill_em_all@thexfiles.com OR
Visit the xpab site:
http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/xpab.html
And while you're there...
Visit Jeri's Basement:
http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/index.html