Author's Notes: This just made sense to me. I was inspired by Wallace Stevens' poem, who is among the few poets I've been able to read.

Summary: Mulder and Scully after the birth of their miracle baby, and the surprise they never saw coming.

Spoilers: Major for the S10 finale "My Struggle IV". If you haven't seen it, don't read this.

Thanks so much to Strbck23 for a great beta, and making my evening

Finale of Seem
Rated PG
Suzanne L. Feld

The Emperor of Ice-Cream
Wallace Stevens

Call the roller of big cigars,

The muscular one, and bid him whip

In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.

Let the wenches dawdle in such dress

As they are used to wear, and let the boys

Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.

Let be be finale of seem.

The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,

Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet

On which she embroidered fantails once

And spread it so as to cover her face.

If her horny feet protrude, they come

To show how cold she is, and dumb.

Let the lamp affix its beam.

The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

July 2019

"Mulder, I have a proposition for you."

I looked up and raised both eyebrows. "Didn't we just do that the other night?" I cracked, closing the lid of my laptop to give her my full attention. "But I guess I can… rise to the occasion… again, if you need me."

Scully stood by the sink, arms crossed. But despite her frown her eyes were amused. "Not that, sorry," she said. "Do you remember Henry, the newest receptionist? You met him at the office a couple of times."

"You want me to do him?"

The amused sparkle was fast disappearing. "Mulder…" she warned.

"Okay, okay. What is it?"

She huffed. "I was talking to Henry in the break room this afternoon, and I mentioned that we haven't been out alone since the baby was born. He offered to watch David for us for a few hours if we want to go out for an evening. I wondered what you thought."

"He seemed all right to me. The question is, do you trust him?" I asked. "How well do you know him?"

"I think well enough. We—and the rest of the morning shift—usually have lunch together, so I've talked to him quite a bit. He's got basic medical training, in both child CPR and emergency response. He says he pretty much raised his two younger sisters and babysat as a job during high school. That's how he saved up to buy his first car. I do know that he's single and, I think, lonely." She tilted her head at me. "Do you remember my patient Christian from back in '08? The boy with the brain disease that I fought hospital admin over?"

I nodded. He had survived, though it had been a hit and miss thing that had kept her at the hospital for days at a time.

"I feel the same type of… connection… with Henry. And I trust my intuition, as you well know. I'd like to give him a try—for just a couple of hours, at first."

Considering how paranoid we were about this child, that was high trust coming from Scully. David was our true miracle baby and even at three months old, sometimes we expressed incredulity that we really had him, he was healthy and normal, and that all was well. Unlike with William I'd been by her side for this entire pregnancy, and there didn't appear to be any bad guys or religious freaks after him. We were still both on the suspicious side but unnecessarily, at least so far, this time around.

We didn't have anyone we trusted in the area to watch him; neither of us had family left nearby and since I stayed home with him, we hadn't investigated any daycare or sitters. This would be a nice change if it worked out, I thought. I didn't regret my life now, but I was beginning to feel a bit isolated again. Although if I told Scully that, I knew, she'd be dragging me out of the house more than I wanted, baby or no baby.

"If you think he's okay, I'm down with it," I said. "When, and where did you want to go?"

"Friday night? Dinner in the city, maybe? I'd rather not be gone for more than a few hours the first time," she said, leaning one hip back against the counter.

With perfect timing, a faint snuffing cry came from the baby monitor sitting in the middle of the table. At least he'd let us finish eating this time; I'd even managed to clean up after dinner. "Any idea where you want to go?" I called after her as Scully left the room, and I heard her footsteps starting up the creaky staircase. When she was home it was unspoken that she took care of the baby; I had him the rest of the time.

"Baccarat's sounds good," she called back, then I heard her calm voice murmuring to the squalling baby over the monitor. David, like me, had no patience when it came to being fed.

I opened my laptop and by the time she came downstairs with our son riding on her shoulder I'd made our reservations online and let her know.

"I'll text Henry when I'm done here, make sure he's free, but I know he has the weekend off and said that he didn't have any plans when he offered," she said, carrying David into the living room and sitting down on the couch with him.

I got up and joined them. I still marveled at how our lives had turned out after our last stint at the FBI. After the years I'd rattled around in this big old house alone, having Scully and our son living here was about as miraculous to me as his conception and birth.

At one point I had pretty much been living in the front room with my desk, entertainment center, and hoop. But Scully had totally redone the house when she'd moved back in. I was so pleased that she'd agreed to live here with me, instead of her much nicer condo, that I let her do what she wanted. I moved my stuff back into the main-floor bedroom that was once again my office. The place no longer looked like a half-assed bachelor pad but the nicely decorated home of two aging professionals, which was exactly what we were even if I had become a career dad and bottle-washer.

And you better believe I kept it clean and looking nice. Scully had not mellowed one iota with age when it came to a neat house.

"By the way, did you hear back from the records department yet?" I asked as I sat down next to her and put my arm loosely around her shoulders. I watched with interest as she unbuttoned her shirt and unsnapped her front-closure bra, which sprang back to the sides. Our son latched on to the proffered nipple, sucking happily and kneading her soft white skin with one tiny hand. Though she had been concerned that she might not be able to breast-feed at her age, it was just another thing we'd worried about that turned out not to be a problem.

I often wondered if Clyde Bruckman had been right, that Scully would not die. If she was immortal, it was possible that she was aging slower than normal. It would explain a lot, including how she looked ten years younger than I knew her to be, and yet I was hesitant to bring it up since I knew that she was very touchy about the subject.

"No, but they said it could take a couple of weeks to locate the files," she said, looking down at our son with such an expression of love on her face that it caused a pang in my chest, stroking his thick hair with her free hand. I found her more beautiful now than ever. "I don't know if we'll be able to find any evidence of tampering after all this time but it's worth a shot. I think Will-William looked too much like you to be an embryo made in a lab from unknown parents and implanted in me, and I want to find out."

"Well, at least we finally discovered where the files are being stored after Parenti's clinic closed," I said. "I'd always assumed that you had William's DNA tested, you were so certain that I was his father."

She nodded, glancing up at me briefly. "I hate to think that Skinner bullshitted us for whatever reason, but it's likely that he was lied to by the Smoking Man and believed it," she said. Then she sighed. "I still can't get over the fact that William is gone. I never once spoke to him face-to-face knowing who he was."

"He loved you," I stated, squeezing her shoulders breifly. She leaned against me, the arm holding the baby resting on my upper thigh. "No matter how he came about, Scully, you carried and gave birth to him, and we'll always love him as our son." I was remembering how it felt to hold him to me, feeling our hearts beating against each other. A vast sense of relief had washed over me in that moment knowing that I was finally holding my son again after so many years and so much uncertainty. Nothing would ever take that from me.

"I know. I know." She reached up and pressed on her nipple near the corner of David's mouth, breaking the suction. His eyes widened at this interruption of his meal, but she quickly swung him around and had him at the other breast before he could do more than inhale in preparation to bawl. He latched on again, blinking contentedly up at us with clear blue eyes the same shade as Scully's.

We were quiet for a time, watching David as he nursed, slowly dozing off. He was doubtlessly our miracle child, in more ways than one. Now three months old, he had a headful of dark reddish-brown hair and my stamp on his features; we could both see it. There was no doubt this time that he was our child. To our relief, Scully hadn't had any serious problems carrying him, though she had decided to have a C-section due both to her age and the previous difficulty after delivering William, when she nearly bled to death. This birth had been uneventful, Scully healed normally, and here we were living the suburban dream at nearly retirement age. It still seemed surreal to me sometimes, especially when I was caring for the baby, doing laundry, or making dinner and waiting for Scully to come home from work. After going back on the X-Files for two years and then to have everything we'd worked so hard for suddenly yanked away from us—again!—this was the last place I'd expected us to be. It was certainly not how I'd seen our lives ending up at our age, that much was for sure. Oddly enough I was content, even happy, being a stay-at-home dad and working on my various projects whenever I wasn't busy with the baby.

I'd even taken him squatching with me a couple of times, though I didn't dare tell Scully and was pretty sure that just the smell of his diaper chased away any possible Bigfeet. Still, it was a good bonding activity as far as I was concerned.

He let go of Scully's nipple with a faint pop, his head rolling bonelessly back against her arm as he was sound asleep. "I'll take him while you put yourself back together," I said, pulling my arm from around her.

"No, that's ok, I'll take him upstairs like this." She gazed at me, and I recognized the sultry look in her clear eyes as she raised the baby to her shoulder. "You could come up with me, if you think you can still, um, rise to the occasion."

"I already am," I assured her as I trailed them up the stairs.

###

Friday evening arrived, and I made sure that all was in readiness while Scully got dressed. I double-checked that there were four bottles of breast milk in the refrigerator, though it was likely David would only need one. There were plenty of diapers, baby wipes, and clean clothes in case he had an accident—he did occasionally have a belch-plus that necessitated a change—and his walker, bouncy seat, playpen, and toys were in the living room.

Truth be told, I was a bit concerned about leaving David. I trusted Scully to know if this co-worker of hers was safe and yet I didn't like having someone else watch our son. But then, it had been before his birth since we'd so much as gone to the grocery store without David in tow. Tonight, being alone, would be nice. And we were going nowhere near that insane sushi place with the robots that had nearly killed us, but to an upscale restaurant in DC where it wasn't unusual to see high-level politicians and other famous people. I'd taken Scully there to celebrate the news of her pregnancy, and it had a special meaning for us.

A knock came from the door as I was doing one last glance around. "Hey, Mr. Mulder, good to see you again," Henry said easily, reaching for the handle as I pushed the screen door open. "Nice evening, isn't it?"

"Just Mulder," I corrected, sizing him up as we shook. He was a tall drink of water, maybe an inch or two taller than me. He had a thin but pleasant face, clean-shaven, with a mop of dark blonde hair that fell into his eyes but was cut short in back. His brown eyes were guileless, meeting mine with no hesitation or nervousness. He appeared to be in his late twenties, though I never was good at gauging age. Scully had told me that she suspected he might be gay, though I saw no signs of it such as effeteness. Either way, it didn't matter to us.

We made comfortable small talk until Scully came downstairs with David in her arms a short time later. The baby was babbling and waving his hands excitedly, freshly fed and changed. Scully was wearing one of the dresses that she knew was my favorite, an emerald-green jobbie with a low, scooped neckline, tight top, and a slinky skirt that feel just above her knees. She didn't get dressed up like this often and I enjoyed looking at her.

"Now you get to pass the real test," I told Henry. "Let's see if the emperor will accept you."

Scully threw me a look that I knew well; she hated it when I called David 'the emperor'. For some reason it made her think of the Stevens poem "The Emperor of Ice-Cream" and she hated the association with death that the piece implied. I simply meant that he ran the house like an emperor, which was the truth.

Henry was grinning at the baby as Scully came across the room. "He's even more adorbs than the pictures you've shown me!" he gushed. Maybe he was gay. "And you look fi-i-i-ine, Dr. Scully," he added, giving her a friendly smile. Maybe not. Who knew.

I watched as Scully turned David so he could see the new person. He wasn't used to other people, so we had no idea how he'd react. The two of them stared at each other for a beat, then the young man put his arms out. To my surprise—and Scully's by the look on her face—David reached out and allowed himself to be transferred to the stranger's grip. Henry was grinning as he bounced him lightly on his forearm, the other hand holding him securely around the back.

"He doesn't like many people, so you are among the select few," I remarked. He always kicked up a fuss when we took him to the pediatrician, though who know if it was the strangers or the vaccinations.

"I feel honored," Henry said, still smiling at David who blew spit bubbles at him and grabbed at his face. "He is such a cutie! I miss having little ones around, but I haven't found anyone that I want to settle down and have a family with, yet."

We walked around the house, Henry holding a happily gurgling David, showing him where everything was. Still feeling some trepidation—and I could see the same in Scully's expression—we eventually left.

Two hours later we returned. Though we'd planned a leisurely night out, both of us seemed to get more and more worried as time went by, and couldn't relax, so we got our desserts to go and headed home before spending a full hour at the restaurant.

But we need not have been so concerned. When we walked in the front door the first thing I saw was Henry sitting on the tan sectional couch watching TV, David sprawled asleep across his chest in his blue and yellow summer sleeper. The young man looked up and smiled at us, using the remote to turn off the TV. "I hope you don't mind, I was sitting here holding him instead of putting him to bed," he said, lifting David into his arms and then standing. "I'll go put him down."

"Oh no, I can—" Scully said, taking a step forward, but he was already heading up the stairs.

We looked at each other, and I shrugged. The living room was as neat as we'd left it, though the walker had been moved and there was a neatly folded blanket on one edge of the playpen. Scully set her purse on the end table next to the couch, also glancing around.

A few moments later Henry bounded back down the stairs. "He's a really great kid, he slept most of the time but did watch some of River Monsters with me," he said, grinning. "Drank a full bottle and got a good burp. No trouble at all. Anytime you need me to sit, give me a holler."

"I'll your money over now," Scully said, getting her phone out of her purse. "Thanks a lot, Henry. I'm glad he was no trouble for you."

"Hey, my pleasure, Dr. Scully. I've missed being around kids since I moved away from home." His phone chimed, and he picked it up from the side table. "Got it. Thanks much. See you at work."

After I heard his car drive away, I raised my brows at Scully. "Think we should?"

She nodded firmly. "Just to be on the safe side."

I went over and picked up a six-inch-tall black stone statue of Isis, the Egyptian cat god, that sat on one end of the mantel. Turning it around, I pushed on the bottom and the entire back swung open. From inside it I took a tiny SD card and carried the digital chip into my office.

I sat down, and Scully stood beside me as I inserted it into the computer. We'd picked this particular nanny-cam since its card fit into a slot already on my laptop. Within a few moments the video was ready, and I pressed play.

My stomach jolted like I'd been shot with a Taser as the picture popped onto the monitor. "Oh my God," Scully whispered, and her hand clamped down on my shoulder. I was speechless, and could only stare as the figures moved. "Mulder… is it really?"

It was. Instead of the young medical receptionist we both knew as Henry Wilson, it was our son William, aka Jackson Van De Camp, holding our son David on the video. There was no mistaking the shock of thick black hair, piercing eyes, and lanky form. He was walking back and forth in front of the TV bouncing David gently in his arms, smiling and talking to the baby who stared back at him, apparently fascinated. There was no sound, but it was clear that William already loved his little brother. David raised one arm and went to hit William in the face—as he often did to anyone holding him-but the young man caught his chubby hand and blew a zerbert on the back of it. David erupted into giggles, and his brother did it again.

I finally managed to tear my eyes away and turn my head to look at Scully. Tears were streaming down her face and causing her makeup to run, but she was smiling tremulously. I could feel wetness on my face as well and didn't care. "I knew it, Mulder," she choked out, her voice husky and breaking. "I knew he wasn't dead. We have a connection, I don't know what it is, but I could sense that he was still alive."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I half-whispered, turning back to look at the screen. On it, William carried David into the kitchen and opened the fridge, both of them looking inside.

"I didn't want to get your hopes up if I was wrong," she sobbed, her hand slipping off of my shoulder. I turned to see her beginning to collapse, and leapt from my chair to catch her. I enfolded her in my arms, supporing her slight weight, and turned so we could continue to watch. On my laptop screen William carefully put David into his high chair, buckling him in and propping up his floppy little body with a rolled hand towel, then went back to the refrigerator. He made a sandwich, talking to and watching David all the while. Then he sat down at the table next to the high chair and continued to talk to the fascinated baby while he ate. David seemed entranced with him, bouncing in place, waving his chubby little arms, and appearing to babble continuously as he did when delighted by something.

"Should we tell him we know?" I finally said, still holding her close as she continued to cling to me.

"I… I don't… if he wanted us to know, he would have told us," she finally said. "Obviously he doesn't realize that we can see who he really is on tape, or digital, or whatever. And last we knew, he was afraid that he was a danger to everyone around him. I think he would disappear again if he realized that we knew it was him."

I nodded, my chin brushing her thick, soft hair, the soft fragrance of her shampoo drifting up to my nose. Now William carried the baby out of the kitchen and went upstairs, disappearing from our sight. We'd only gotten the one nannycam, though I now wished we'd purchased another for the baby's room just so we could watch them more. "This is like a dream, Scully, having both of our sons together."

"And I no longer care who, or what, William may be. He's our son no matter what. To hell with the PCR results, I don't want to see them anymore." I felt her moving and loosened my grip. She turned to look up at me, reaching up to wipe beneath my eyes with gentle fingertips, her warm palms cradling my face. "We won't let on that we know, Mulder, but let's try and spend more time with him. I know he's single and lonely, so maybe we can invite him to go places with us under the guise of watching David while we're at the park, or shopping, or something."

I smoothed away her tears as well, though a few still welled up without spilling over. "Scully… we could go one better. Say I went back to work, and we offered to hire him as a nanny. Do you think he'd give up the job at the clinic?"

"Mulder… what would you do?"

"We'll figure that out later."

"Oh!" I saw the dawning realization on her face. "A live-in nanny?"

I grinned down at her. "If you don't mind that I'll have to move my office into our bedroom and it'll be a bit cramped, I'm down with it. Don't think I'll be using it as much, though, if this works out."

"I can find out how much he makes, I doubt it's a lot, and we can offer more," she said confidently. "That's brilliant, Spooky."

She hadn't called me by that old nickname in years and while I used to detest it, now I found it amusing. But before I could say anything, movement caught my eye and on the screen I saw William and David coming down the stairs. The baby was now in his pajamas and beginning to fuss—I knew that face. We watched as they went to the refrigerator again, only this time William got a bottle and warmed it in the microwave. Then he took the baby to the couch and sat down with him, popping the bottle in his open mouth and talking to him as David sucked away contentedly in his arms. Not once had we seen Henry on his phone or in any other way distracted from taking care of the baby, which had been one of our biggest concerns.

We stood together and watched for a while longer, but finally I leaned forward and tapped the spacebar to pause the video. "'Let be be finale of seem; the only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream,'" I quoted. "William's already been dead, or at least we thought he was. And wants us still to believe that."

"Are you saying William's dead like the woman in the poem?"

"No, but we thought he was, and Stevens never says that she's dead. It could only be an illusion."

"Only in death does illusion end," Scully said. It sounded like a quote of some type, but my eidetic memory didn't recall what it was. "Or at least that's how it should be."

"We'll let him have his illusion," I said, hugging her close with one arm around her shoulders. Should we go see our emperor?"

"Only if you stop calling him that."

We grinned at each other, but I made no promises. With one last glance at the screen, where William was rocking and smiling at David, we left the room.

finis