Dana Scully tiredly followed her mother up to her apartment, resting her right hand on her aching back. At eight months pregnant, her large stomach threatened to overbalance her small frame. Of course, the fact that she was having twins did not help matters at all either.

"Dana, are you all right?" her mother questioned, turning back to her.

"I'm fine, Mom," Scully said. "I just want to get home." They had been shopping for nearly two hours, and Scully's feet were killing her. Though she had switched out her customary pumps for a pair of flats, her added weight put so much additional strain on her feet that she thought she might as well have worn the pumps.

Maggie Scully pursed her lips and considered her daughter carefully. "You're always fine, Dana. I wish you'd just tell me what's bothering you."

"I'm just a little tired. That's all."

"You really need to take it easy, Dana. The last month's never easy, and you have two to worry about."

"I know, Mom, and I am taking it easy. I haven't been in the field the past four months, and I haven't worked at all in the past one and a half." Scully reached into her purse and extracted the key. She inserted it into the lock and reached for the door handle, realizing almost immediately that the door was unlocked. She had locked it when they left that morning; she knew that for a fact. Scully allowed a brief moment of panic to wash over her, momentarily increasing her heart rate, before her FBI training kicked in.

"Mom, get back from the door," Scully instructed, already reaching behind her for her gun. Some might consider her paranoid for taking her gun everywhere she went, but she had made a number of powerful enemies over the years, and she had learned the hard way that it never hurt to be too careful.

"Dana, this isn't-" Maggie began, but Scully had already thrown the door open and was pointing her gun into her living room.

"Surprise!" a chorus of voices shouted before the all sound in the room ceased as its occupants noticed Scully's stiff stance and unholstered weapon.

"Mom?" Scully questioned, recognizing many of the women in the room as friends of her mother. The hand holding her gun dropped to her side.

"Welcome to your baby shower, Dana," Maggie told her, moving past her into the room. "I figured it was about time you had one considering you're in your eighth month." Scully glanced around the room at the frightened faces of the women, many of whom seemed to be staring at her as if she had sprouted a second head. Scully knew all the faces, but she could only place names with about two-thirds of them. Some of them were old friends of her mother's and some were friends of hers from her days in college and in medical school. She had not seen or spoken to many of them in years. Since joining the FBI, she had lost contact with most of her friends. Mulder, the X-files, and now the babies growing within her had become her entire life. From time to time, she would have lunch with an old friend, but she had come to find many of them rather boring.

"Mom, you know I'm not big on surprises."

"Well, that's obvious." Maggie glanced at Scully's weapon, and Scully sheepishly replaced it in her holster. Some of the tension left the room, but still, nobody said a word. Finally, Maggie broke the silence. "Well, we've got food, games, and presents. Where would you like to start?"

Half an hour later, Scully was sandwiched on the couch between two women about her own age. Nadine and Rebekah had been good friends of hers in college, but she had not seen them in a couple years. She knew Nadine was married with two small children and Rebekah was engaged. Looking down at her own swollen fingers, Scully wondered if a ring would ever grace them. Probably not. She and Mulder had discussed their options and decided that it was simply too dangerous to get married.

"So, Dana, are you ever going to get out of this apartment?" Nadine asked, tucking her bleached blond hair behind her ear. "I don't think it's big enough for two babies."

"We're working on fixing up a house not to far from here," Scully said. It had been a house Mulder inherited from his father that the family had not lived in for years. Although there were numerous problems, Mulder, the Gunmen, and a couple of contractors had been working on it for three months, and it was nearly finished. Mulder refused to let her see it until he had completed all the work, but he did let her pick out the new flooring and paint, claiming that she had a better eye for those things than he did. He was right, too; if she had left the decision up to Mulder, they probably would have ended up with lime green walls in every room of the house.

"Oh, so there is a we," Rebekah prodded with her eyebrows raised. Scully gave no response, choosing instead to take another sip of her drink.

"What's his name?" Nadine asked.

"Whose name?"

"The father of these two, of course." Nadine poked her stomach, a gesture Scully found rather annoying. She never understood people's need to touch her pregnant belly, and she wished that people did not assume that pregnancy automatically gave them permission to lay their hands on her stomach whenever they wanted.

"I'd rather not discuss that right now."

"You'd rather not discuss it? Dana, I've known you for almost fifteen years now, and the last serious boyfriend you had was Daniel. You've never talked about anyone else. So, who got you into this?" Still, Scully was silent, so Nadine plowed on. "What I find most interesting is that you were always so careful with everything, always planned everything years in advance. So, how did you end up getting yourself pregnant? I assume it wasn't planned."

"It wasn't expected. But it's something I've wanted for awhile now."

"And the father? Is he in the picture?"

Scully closed her eyes, trying to think of the best way to answer without causing them to ask any more questions. Before she could speak, however, a familiar voice interrupted her. "Scully, Frohike somehow managed to lose my only Phillips head screwdriver, so I was wondering if I could borrow yours. And did you know your door's unlocked? You really shouldn't-"

Fox Mulder broke off suddenly as he noticed the gaggle of women sitting in Scully's living room. A few of them scanned his tanned, well-muscled frame interestedly. "Sorry. Guess I should've knocked," he said.

"Let me see if I can find it." Scully slowly rose to her feet, ignoring the looks she was receiving from the other women. She walked into the kitchen, and Mulder trailed slightly behind her.

"So, how come I didn't get invited to the party?" he questioned once they were alone in the kitchen.

"It's a baby shower, Mulder."

"Well, that explains the Stepford Wives."

"Mulder, they're my friends." He raised an eyebrow, and she amended her statement. "Okay, they're my mom's friends and some people I used to know in college. You still shouldn't insult them."

"They can't hear me."

Scully shook her head as she opened one of the drawers to reveal a multitude of tools. "Here," she told him, handing him four different screwdrivers.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing the grim expression on her face.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. This isn't exactly how I imagined spending my Saturday afternoon."

"Well, I'd offer to let you come with me, but Frohike nearly cut Langley's hand off with the circular saw earlier, and Byers is at his wit's end trying to keep them from killing one another. It's not the most pleasant experience."

"You should probably get back there then."

"Yeah. Assuming I manage to keep all my limbs, I'll bring a pizza over later tonight. Any particular cravings today?"

"Spinach."

A look of disgust crossed Mulder's face, but he only said, "Spinach it is." He kissed her briefly on the lips before leaving the kitchen. Fifteen sets of eyes followed him to the door. "Lock it," he instructed as Scully shut the door behind him. Sighing, she turned the lock, knowing he would never leave until she did. Suddenly, she threw open the door again and called to him.

"Mulder?"

He turned. "Yeah?"

"Pepperoni and black olives, too."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

When she rejoined the women in the living room, they all looked at her expectantly. "Well?" Nadine finally asked.

"Well what?"

"Was that him?"

"That was my partner, Fox Mulder."

"I remember you talking about him," Rebekah said. "But you never said he was hot."

"I believe she once told me he was cute," Ellen, another of Scully's old friends, remembered. "Though you also added that he was a jerk. But I think I might be able to overcome a certain amount of jerkiness for him. I can see now why you never went on that second date with Rod." Scully sighed, wondering how long the party would last.

Three hours later, Scully, Maggie, and Ellen were cleaning up the living room. The other guests had already left, offering their congratulations to Dana and still questioning her about the identity of the father, a question she steadfastly refused to answer. As Maggie stuffed pale-colored gift wrap into a large garbage bag, she asked, "So, Dana, did you have fun."

"I did," Scully lied.

"That's good. I've always thought you've needed more female companionship."

"Is it safe to come in?" a voice called from the doorway.

"It's just me, Ellen, and Mom," Scully called back.

"I told you to lock this door, Scully."

"I did. But I unlocked it again when everyone was leaving." Scully looked up at him. His jeans were covered in dirt, and his dark brown hair was matted to his head with sweat. Streaks of mud covered his face. "What have you been doing?"

"Landscaping. Did you know how hard it is to dig up a stump? Especially with two people who seem intent on committing homicide."

"Langley and Frohike were still going at it?"

"I was talking about me and Langley. Frohike nearly got my foot with that saw."

"Why did you give him the saw again?"

"I didn't." He ran a hand through his hair, and a rain of dirt fell to the floor. Scully watched it with an expression of distaste, but Mulder seemed oblivious. "I'm going to take a shower and get some clean clothes. The pizza guy should be here in about ten minutes. If I'm not out by then, my wallet's right here." He placed his wallet on a table beside the door before walking toward the bathroom.

"He doesn't seem like a jerk," Ellen observed.

"My initial judgment might have been a little. . . presumptuous."

"So, who are Langley and Frohike?" Maggie asked.

"They're a couple of Mulder's friends. I think I've told you about them, Mom."

"And why does he want to kill one of them?"

"He was just kidding. Frohike got a bit overzealous with the saw."

"So, is he the one, Dana?" Ellen questioned. Scully remained silent. "Come on, Dana, we've been friends for years. You're the godmother to my son. The least you can do is to tell me if he's the father of your daughters."

"He is."

Ellen smiled. "With those genes, they're going to be beautiful."

Since Scully knew Mulder had ordered two large pizzas (he always did, claiming that doing so would provide breakfast, too), she invited Ellen and Maggie to stay for dinner, and they accepted her offer. When Maggie opened the lid of the first pizza, she looked quizzically at Mulder. "Talk to her. That's what she wanted," Mulder said, pointing to Scully as he brought a large slice of his meat lover's pizza to his mouth.

"It sounded good," Scully said with a shrug.

"She has cravings for the weirdest mixes of pizza toppings," Mulder explained.

"You've liked some of them," Scully argued.

"I have not."

"Sure you have."

"Name one."

"Pepperoni, pineapple, and mushroom."

"That pizza in Georgia? That was seven months ago, and I was hungry enough that garbage probably would have tasted good."

"You ordered it the next time, too."

"Because I thought you would like it."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

Ellen turned to Maggie. "Do they always do this?"

"Most of the time. You get used to it. That's just Fox and Dana."

"Did you read over that case I gave you?" Mulder questioned.

"I did. I see nothing anomalous about it. It's not an X-file."

"Not an X-file? Scully, a woman came back from the dead."

"She did not come back from the dead. I suspect her body systems were simply functioning on such a low level that the doctors pronounced her dead when she was, in fact, still alive. It's happened before."

"Yeah, back in the old days when they had no modern technology and people relied on bells hanging above their graves to save them from being buried alive. But today, we can be pretty sure that people we pronounce dead are dead."

"For all intensive purposes, she might have been dead, but biologically, she was likely still alive."

"What is she? Schrodinger's cat?"

"What are you two talking about?" Ellen inquired.

"Quantum mechanics," Mulder answered without missing a beat. "So, what is it, Scully? Is the cat dead or alive?"

"I'd have to examine the woman to tell you anything more."

"That can be arranged."

"Okay, you two, no discussing work at the dinner table," Maggie told them.

"We're not discussing work. We're discussing the possibility of a quantum superposition of coexisting alive and dead states. Am I right, Scully?"

Scully glared at him. "Sorry, Mom, Mulder doesn't always know when to leave well enough alone." Mulder smirked at her.

"I'm sorry, I'm completely lost," Ellen said.

"Don't worry about it. It's not important," Scully told her.

"Not important? Scully, I think the question of whether one is dead or alive is perhaps the most important question of all," Mulder remarked.

"Mulder," Scully warned.

"Fine. I'll drop it. I'm going to get something to drink. Anyone else want anything?"

"I'll have some tea," Scully told him.

"Tea sounds good," Ellen agreed.

"I'm fine," Maggie assured him.

When he had left the room, Ellen turned back to Scully. "Cute, smart, attentive. Tell me again why you didn't jump this guy years ago Dana."

"Because we were partners. The FBI's pretty clear that the relationship between partners should be purely platonic.

"Your relationship's certainly not platonic now."

"No, it isn't."

"We're out of iced tea. I'm going to go down to the corner store to pick some up," Mulder announced, emerging from the kitchen.

"Mulder-" Scully began, but he anticipated her request.

"Napkins, bread, and milk. I've got it."

"You found the list?"

"Yep." He held up the small slip of paper before walking out the door.

Ellen left a couple hours later, promising to meet up with Scully sometime soon. Maggie fussed a bit more about the stress her daughter was putting on herself before also leaving. Mulder tossed the pizza boxes in the trashcan and loaded the used glasses before joining Scully on the living room couch. "Did you enjoy your party?" he questioned.

"Ugh," Scully answered simply.

He chuckled. "That bad, huh?"

"I'm beginning to wonder why I was ever friends with some of these women. Their favorite topic seemed to be what was happening on the latest television shows. They have no concept of reality; to them, life is just one long episode of 'It's a Wonderful LIfe.' I don't think I had a single intelligent conversation."

"Next party you have, make sure to invite me. I'll make sure to keep your brilliant mind occupied with a stimulating discussion of Schrodinger's cat. Or, if you're really ambitious, we can debate the scientific nature of the whammy."

Scully smiled slightly. "This wasn't my party, Mulder. This was my mom's party. I didn't even know about it until I walked in the door. When I came home and found the door unlocked, I thought that someone was searching my house again; I actually burst in with my gun drawn."

Mulder snorted. "I would have paid to see that."

"I'm sure you would have." Scully groaned and rested her head in the crook of Mulder's arm which he had spread across the back of the sofa. "I know my mom was just doing what she thought was best for me. I just wish she'd realize that I'm not like most other people; I don't need a roomful of female friends to talk to about television shows and dream weddings. I'd rather just have a few close friends who don't expect me to be anything but what I am."

"Scully, I don't want you to be anything but what you are. You're perfect."

"Nothing's perfect, Mulder."

"Sure it is if you look at it in the right way."

"Whatever."

"You're giving up just like that? You must be tired."

"Mmfh." She turned her head, burying her face against his bicep. Mulder moved away from her, and she protested for a moment before he gently pulled her head into her lap, allowing her to stretch out across the sofa. His hands began to stroke her sleek, red hair, soothing her. Gradually, she began to relax.

"We should be done with the house in two weeks," Mulder announced.

"That's good. I'm not going to find any bloody limbs in it, am I?"

"With our luck, I wouldn't be so sure."

"Well, I'm not autopsying them if we do."

"And after I went to so much trouble to have a special autopsy bay installed in the basement so you could work whenever you want to."

"You mean whenever you want me to."

"You enjoy it. You've been begging me to let you work for weeks."

"Because I'm bored here. There's nothing to do."

"You have your medical journals."

"I've read them all."

"Learn a new language."

"Why?"

"Why not? I would suggest Russian. It would make life much easier for me if I had a translator I could actually trust." His hand was now rubbing her scalp gently, and her eyelids slowly closed as her drowsiness increased. After a couple minutes of silence, she groaned and opened her eyes again. "What's wrong?" Mulder asked.

"I have to use the bathroom."

"Then go."

"I'm comfortable here."

"I'll still be here when you get back. Scout's honor."

"You were never a boy scout, Mulder."

"Actually, I was. Twelve years. I have an eagle scout badge somewhere."

"I've never seen it."

"It's probably in a box of old keepsakes in storage somewhere."

"I still don't believe you."

"Didn't you have to pee?" Scully gave an incomprehensible reply before rolling off the couch. Her large stomach left her with little ability to move gracefully, and she nearly toppled over when her feet hit the ground. Mulder's arm reached out to steady her, but she shook it away and righted herself unaided before waddling to the bathroom. One of the things she hated most about her pregnancy, other than her frequent bathroom trips, was the fact that she could no longer walk anywhere. No, every time she tried to move, she waddled. She felt like a penguin.

When she returned to the living room, Mulder was still sitting on the couch as promised. He had turned the television on and was watching a show she did not recognize with the volume turned down low. Scully lowered herself onto the couch beside him, feeling the cushions dip low under her weight. Somehow, she managed to maneuver her feet onto the sofa so that she was lying on her side with her head in Mulder's lap facing the television screen. His placed the arm not holding the remote on top of her side so that his hand rested at her waist. His fingers pushed the fabric of her shirt up enough to give them access to bare skin which he began to rub aimlessly. In no time, Scully had returned to her catatonic state.