Chapter 7: A Step in the aright Direction?

Saturday 12th October
14:34

"I was reading something the other day, which made me think of you".

"Oh yeah?" I ask, pulling my gaze away from Theodore to my best friend. For all my worries, the kids, in the end did not seem to hold a grudge against me for not saying goodbye to them last night.

Theodore and I are in Ellen's parents' kitchen. The baby is propped up against the crook of my shoulder in a seating position, and we are both watching the final preparations being put on Trent's Thomas the Tank Engine cake. I recognised my mother's handiwork straight away. She must have dropped it off before I arrived ... -

Ellen lights a long chefs match and Theodore's head pushes into my chest. I gently rub my lips across his soft curls for re-assurement and he gurgles incredulously, kicking his legs excitedly; the heels of his feet lightly hitting against my lower abdomen.

I grin, watching his saucer like eyes follow Ellen's match in amazement.

"Huh! What was that?" I ask Theodore, and he gurgles excitedly again, a small fist lightly slapping my arm across his body.

"What was that?" I ask Ellen, in a much more age appropriate tone, tearing my focus away from the baby.

Ellen smiles at me knowingly.

"What?!" Embarrassed.

She suppresses her smile, "an article for adoptive parents", she hums, "it was mainly directed at mothers, but it was about strengthening bonds between adoptive parents and babies, and I figured it might work for you". She pauses to suck off some stray buttercream off her finger. "Mhhhhm. God your mom makes the best cakes!" she groans in unashamed ecstasy.

"What did it say?" I ask, ignoring her last comment, but all too eager for more 'good nannying' information.

"... It's a two page spread..."

She is still wallowing in the cream's aftertaste.

"... I kept it for you. I remember what you were saying about not wanting to use the pacifier".

She blows out the match and Theodore starts to fuss.

I start bouncing him on the spot to prevent them from escalating but it does not help.

Ellen talks over the baby's cries, "one of the tips was for the mother to dry breast feed their baby"

...!?

Ellen snorts at the drop dead face I instinctually pull.

"Where in the fuck did you read that?!" I gasp, not convinced on its legitimacy, but definitely that I am not doing it.

"Some magazine", she dismisses, lifting the cake off the table with both hands and Theodore's tears halt. The light kicks on my lower abdomen let me know he is in a good mood again.

" - but seriously, that was just the extreme, there are some good tips - Danes. Can you multitask and - "

The kitchen door swings open.

"Sorry I'm late!" Missy declares, "but I brought the tequila", she waves it proudly in her arms.

~xXx~

Missy.

We lock eyes.

"Mom!" Trent squeals bounding into the middle of the kitchen. "Look what Aunt Melissa and Tigs got me!" he waves a sling shot gleefully in his arms.

He stops, noticing the cake. "Cake!" he screams out of the room.

"A sling shot", Ellen deadpans, "really Miss?"

"Every four year old should fucking have one", she smiles, moving her gaze off of me to Ellen. She sets the tequila on a kitchen work top. It has been a tradition to share a bottle of tequila or some sort of alcohol on Trent's birthday, as it is not only his birth day but Ellen's. She was the one that did all the hard work.

"Great. I'll remember to say that when I have complaints from my neighbours about their cats being shot through the window".

Tigs' booming laughter echoes through the kitchen from behind Missy, as he edges his big form into the kitchen.

"You don't have to worry Ellen. I have already told him, only old ladies and kittens", Tigs jokes.

"Ha. Ha", Ellen dead pans, accepting Tigs kiss to the cheek. "Carry the cake for me?" she asks, lugging it into Tigs' muscular arm. "And the tequila bottle is almost half empty", she raises an eyebrow at Missy.

They both exit the kitchen, but not before Missy steals a finger full of butter cream. "I may have got a bit thirsty in the car". The kitchen door shuts behind them and the room instantly goes silent.

Missy sucks the cream off her finger, and in my incomfort, I bounce Theodore nervously in my arms.

"Mmmm, mom's cakes ... you can't shitting fault her on them", she chuckles at her own comment. "She's not here is she?" she asks eyeing me, nothing remotely kind towards me in her face.

I shake my head, because I can't seem to find my voice.

She nods, and waltzes further into the kitchen.

My eyes start to water, over how much I have missed my sister. Her presence, her face, smile… her colourful mouth. "Miss-", I blubber.

She raises a hand for me to stop. "- Let's just, let's just forget it", she frowns swiping her hand across the kitchen table.

"But I can't. It's been replaying in my mind like a broken record for the past two weeks", I manage, trying my best not to cry and set the baby off. "It was the worst thing I could have said, because you are the last person in this world, I would ever want to hurt, and it's been miserable these two weeks without you. Seriously, I almost didn't cope-".

"For shitting Christ Danes, stop! Or you are going to fucking start me off", she wipes an eye.

We stand in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry I never called to apologise", my mumble breaking it. "... I just didn't know where to start", I say honestly.

"Yeah, well how do you start apologising to your sun, moon, planet and fucking Jesus Christ?"

I snort, and we both laugh.

"Seriously though Miss-"

"Yeah I missed you too, kiddo", she nudges my arm playfully, and then downcasts her eyes and smiles at Theodore.

"Do you want to hold him?"

"No shitting way. You'll give Tigs ideas. Now come on, or we'll miss the cake".

I laugh. "It always amazes me, how every year, you manage to expertly time your arrival so you don't miss the cake, but miss having to muck in and helping with the kids".

"What can I say Danes, it's a skill".

~xXx~

It would be sods law that the day you hire a bouncy castle for your child's fourth birthday, it would pour down with rain. Although, not even a lot of rain will deter twenty or so kids from enjoying a promised attraction.

Miss and I walk into a room full of sodden children in excited chatter crowding around Trent and his birthday cake. He looks so excited, bless him, and I can't help but grin at his little over excited face.

Bouncing Theodore, I scan the tops of children, finding Yvo's unruly dark brown curls instantly. I re-scan for the same shade ringlets, sporting an elaborate pink ribbon that her grandmother somehow managed to bow in her hair.

Re-scan.

No - none of them belong to her.

Re re-scan.

Panic starts to rise in me, and bile sinks to my stomach.

"Yvo…", I call over the heads, attempting to get his attention. I don't really want to step into the sea of under two-footers.

"Yvo"

He turns towards my voice on the third call. I signal with my head for him to come over.

"This is the bestest party. Look how wet I am!" Yvo exclaims, showing off his very saturated clothes; water droplets sprinkle of his curls with his movements.

"I'm glad you are having such a good time kiddo", I say crouching down to his level, resting the baby on my knee, who gurgles happily and reaches out for his brother.

"Do you know where your sister is?" I can't help the slight panic in my tone.

Yvo shakes his head and attempts to lift his brother out of my arms.

"No, no", I say standing up. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"I don't know?" he shrugs unbothered by the situation.

Shizer.

'Happy Birthday' starts in the background. My worried eyes take another scan of the children in the room, still no Xoë.

She can't be far, my subconscious tries to soothe.

My eyes focus back on Yvo, who from the look on his face, I think has registered my worry.

I plaster on a smile; "quick, we have to sing Happy Birthday to Trent"

His face perks up, and he hops closer to the crowd around the cake.

He's fine, I reason; now to make sure the other one is fine.

Although how hard or far can I look in this weather with a baby in my arms…?! Dr Mulder's mother just dropped them off at the party as they are. A push chair or drivers seat to just plop him in would come in handy now!

I glance helplessly in Missy's direction, but she's not looking in mine and there is a blockade of children between us. I don't want to interrupt everyone's happy singing; but I do need to find Xoë.

I quickly rush upstairs towards the room that I had laid Theodore down to sleep earlier. I make a pillow barricade around him, silently pleading that now will not be the time he will miraculously learn how to role over.

I hear his screams of protest all the way down the landing.

I make it half way down the stairs, before I think to check the rooms upstairs to see if she is hiding.

She isn't. All the while, I block out Theodore's cries.

I can faintly hear Trent singing how old he is now when I pass the hallway.

She is not in any of the front downstairs rooms.

I side step quickly and quietly through the main living room and the excited chatter over the birthday cake, and who gets what piece. Stepping out into the rain with no protection on.

I'm certain the rain is falling harder.

Shizer.

I must remember not to kill Xoë when I find her. Why can't she be like the other normal obedient children? Why do I have to have the problem child?

"She's just like her father", I mutter as the icy rain drops stream down my face and body, all of sudden angry, blaming him for not being here. Here I fucking am, catching a death of cold, while he is probably fucking still in Jersey having amazing sex with someone who has earned the name she-devil. "... Fucker".

I feel a tug on my arm and turn to find Missy's concerned face, concealed in Tigs' oversized raincoat hood.

"Have your brains turned to diarrho- why are you crying?" she asks, screwing her face.

I had not realised I was.

"I've lost one of the kids", I splurt, embarrassed as my tears getting heavier, but at the same time thankful for the warm moisture on my stone cold face. I push back my drenched, already pushed back hair in aggravation, "I can - I do - I ", my teeth start to chatter, whether put of coldness or nerves.

"Hey", Missy stops me with a touch to my shoulder and rubs it soothingly, "we'll find the kid". She passes me her raincoat, "the little fuck wit can't have got far", she says.

I let out another cry, this time of joy. My sister. How have I survived these weeks without her.

"What is the shit's name?"

"Xoë", I mumble, putting on her raincoat, relishing in the warmth of the body and the hood, "and she's not a shit ... her father is".

"Aren't they all", Missy quips, and disperses to start her search. I head in the opposite direction.

~xXx~

She is not hiding around the bouncy castle, or in the back right part of the garden. My hairs stand on end when I think that maybe, she might be in the front garden, near the road! I hastily search around the the rest of the back garden; my mind wickedly putting images of Xoë playing chicken with the cars.

But then I see her.

And she looks fine ... But it takes a while for my brain to believe my eyes. My whole body sighs in relief however when it does.

Why were you worried? My subconscious teases and I smile, letting out a little laugh.

Panic and relief over, and now properly registering, I frown over what she is wearing, or the lack of it. I then take in her surroundings.

She is in the pool house.

The pool house, of course! Why did I not think of that.

I roll my eyes, and walk towards the building.

Missy is with her, looking very uncomfortable with her hand reacting on one of Xoë's bony shoulders.

Xoë looks very nervous, her eyes downcast to the floor when I open the door.

"I found her, so where is my fucking award?" Missy smiles.

I would scold at her for swearing in front of Xoë if she had not just saved my bacon. And besides, it is nothing that will add to Xoë's colourful vocabulary.

"Cake" I offer, and Missy skips off out of the pool house.

The door closes and it is just me and Xoë.

"That lady said a bad word", this comes from Xoë.

"Yeah, well she does that". I kneel, taking in the cold empty room. The heaters have not been turned on, the water in the swimming pool must be even colder. I spy the pink ribbon from her bow, bobbing like a snake on top of the water, and have to suppress a smile.

Xoë is just in her panties, and is shivering immensely. I spy the bundle of her clothes next to the water's edge, despite her taking them off they look like they have had their fair splash of water.

"So", I start, "you wanted to go swimming?"

Xoë's eyes slowly reach my smile, and she smiles too.

"I've never been in a swimming pool", she explains.

"Of course you haven't", I say, raising, and tossing her ringlets.

"So you're not mad?"

I groan, resting my head in my hands. "... I'm ... disappointed you did not tell me where you were going. The water must be freezing cold in there", I lecture.

Xoë downcasts her gaze, "it was really fun", she mumbles, sticking out her bottom lip.

I shake my head, "you won't find it so much fun when you have to stay at home with me all next week because your ill", I reason and she shrugs.

I kneel again to her height, "next time tell me", I plead.

"You would not have let me gone in", she grumbles.

"Well then you obviously don't know me as well as you think you do".

She looks back up to me with puppy dog eyes. Her father's face. Looking for forgiveness.

I roll my eyes, "... come on...", I say, standing again and opening Missy's coat. She walks into it and I pick her up, zipping the coat up as best I can. I can hear, it is still raining heavily outside. "Let's get some cake, before your brother eats it all".

~xXx~

The party has been over for half an hour now, I help, Ellen and her parents clear up. Missy lurks in the kitchen, clearing up in her own way, left over food. Theodore rests on the kitchen table top on a bathroom towel. While Tigs and the dog, Buddy, entertain Trent, Yvo and Xoë. Dressed in a spare pair of Trent's Y fronts, jogging pants and a tractor jumper, her dress, panties and ribbon in the tumble dryer, fat on cake, sharing ice cream with the dog, everything is back in Xoë's court. If makes me smile and feel light hearted as it is the happiest I have seen her all week.

Washing up the dishes that cannot go in the dishwasher, I frown at the scenery outside.

Ellen elbows me in the ribs.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah", I say pulling my gaze from the window to her. I smile. "... I was just wondering when these kids were going to be picked up".

"Have you called their father?"

I turn back to flick the suds off my hands, I frown forms on my head. "Yes, but he is not picking up".

"Are you worried?"

I snort. "No. I am most definitely not worried about what he has his hands full of, I'm just pissed off it's not his kids. This is supposed to be my fucking day off, not his", I grumble darkly.

"Who dropped them off?"

"Their grandmother, but I don't have her number".

"Dana, where's Daddy?"

Yvo.

I turn round and smile at him sweetly. "We were just talking about him. Was he supposed to pick you up or your grandmother?"

"Daddy".

"Did he tell you that?"

"No Grandma. Daddy is still working".

Working - right. My blood boils.

Yvo lets out a sigh, sticking out his bottom lip and scuffs his shoes against the tiles as if bored ... or upset...? I cannot really tell. Despite being their nanny for a little over month now, there so many things I still have to learn about them. What makes them laugh? What makes them cry? What their favourite colour is? Sport? Their favourite foods? I probably know less about them more than I do.

"Hey", I say, walking over and resting a hand on his shoulder, "where's your sister?"

"Playing with Trent", and his lip extends in further.

"DANA!" Trent bursts in the room, with Xoë and the dog in tow, almost knocking over his grandmother. Tigs runs in after them, making loud lion-esque noises.

"Dana save me", he says clinging on to me.

"Tigs", Missy dead pans, another piece of cake in her hand, "if you're going to chase the kids. Keep away from the food! Helen..", she indicates to Ellen's mom - I know. "... she almost dropped a perfectly good bowl of left over trifle".

Tigs' laugh booms. "You know the way you eat, anyone would think you were pregnant".

I smirk over in her direction, that stops Missy's appetite, instantly resting the piece if cake on the side.

"Come on kids", Tigs. "I told you the kitchen was off limits".

I ruffle Trent's hair, placing a big kiss on his cheek.

He beams, "Dana's my godmother", he informs Yvo.

"I knoooow", Yvo drawls, almost darkly.

Xoë, Trent and the dog run off after Tigs.

"You don't want to join them?" I ask Yvo.

"I guess", he shrugs.

I lay a hand back on his shoulder and rub it soothingly. "I'm sure you're Daddy will be here soon", I comfort and he stalks off out the room.

"Dana?"

I turn towards Helen's voice and meet her smiling face. She points down at Theodore squirming on the table, one small fist chewing in his mouth, the other extending out for me. "I think this little man is looking at you for some food".

Right, it is time for his food, and he finished the last of his feed at his last sitting.

~xXx~

After Ellen's unhelpful teasing of how I better start dry breast feeding him, Helen helpfully mentioned the goats milk in the fridge. After a two minute warming in the microwave, Theodore was full and out for another nap.

Dr Mulder, now over an hour late. Missy and Tiggs left a little while ago, so Missy could get some sleep before work. Theodore, is still napping in the house, under the watchful eye of Helen. Ellen, Trent, Xoë, Yvo and I are now in the swimming pool, heaters on. Yvo has now somewhat cheered up, from when I found him sulking on the sofa with a huge encyclopaedia in front of him. He also has never allegedly been in a swimming pool either, they can however swim, which I am thankful to know that Xoë was not splashing around in here by herself, trying not to drown. They say that their father taught them how to swim in a lake. Yvo proudly recalled how the current almost swept him away ...

That aside, they are strong swimmers. Both flourishing in the 'who can get to it first' game, that Ellen and I are both playing with them with a weight. Trent - bless him, has yet to win one. Something that delights Yvo.

My cell ring shrills.

"Maybe it's Daddy!?" Xoë says excitedly, passing Trent the weight. Trent holds it up proudly. His first win of the game.

Xoë and Yvo clamber out the pool, while I search through the towels for my cell.

And Xoë must be psychic.

Dr Mulder lights up on my screen.

"Hello?"

I smile down at the kids and nod, and they dance excitedly.

"Are the kids with you?"

OK, no hello.

"Yes. Trent's birthday party. Are you - "

"That's great - ", he cuts me off.

No. The party was over an hour ago.

"Where did you get those cards from?" he asks hastily.

I frown.

"The ban -"

"Yes", he cuts off impatiently. "The bank card and the FBI parking lot card. Who gave them to you?" he demands.

" " I am speechless at first. "Well ... you?"

"Me, I've been in New Jersey since Wednesday, getting hardly any sleep. How could have I given them to you?"

Information that I did not and need not know.

"Well it was given on behalf of you. By the same smoking man who came to your office, that time - "

"Oh", he says, somewhat deflated. "Oh yes, I see".

The line goes silent.

" ... So, the kids?" I look back down at their smiling faces.

"Yes", he says, his voice suddenly very brisk. "I've just come home, why are they not here?" he demands, quite harshly.

"Because no one has picked them up", I laugh, pissed off over his terseness.

I walk away outside, and close the pool house door behind me. It is still raining so, I perch on the step. I hear the kids bang on the door behind me, and I turn to frown at them. "The party finished an hour ago", I turn back to face the rain in front of me.

"Then why are they still there?" he asks angrily. "I haven't seen them since Wednesday".

"Well come and get them then", I grit through my teeth.

He is my boss.

He is my boss.

He is my boss.

I chant, keeping my cool, but I do not like his offending voice.

"Can you not drop them off?"

"No. Because I do not have a car", I grit, and it's my day off!

"Well then how did they get there?" he demands.

"You're mother dropped them off", I cannot help the raise in his voice.

There is silence.

"That's right ... OK ...", his voice much softer.

"I didn't have her number to call", I explain.

"No that's OK ... Uhm...", he wonders aloud.

I can picture him, shagging up his hair in thought, just like Yvo does when he is thinking.

The thought reminds me of the kids, and I turn to find their faces squished against the glass door, waiting patiently. I smile and pull them a face.

"... Uhm ... shit" - Dr Mulder.

I frown, turning back my attention to the conversation.

"Is there no way you can get the kids here?" he asks. My mother may still be at her luncheon".

" ... ? ...Well I can ask, but there will be no car seats"

"Oh yeah...", he sighs again down the phone.

"Can't you pick them up?" I dare ask the obvious solution.

"No ... I kind of ... my car ... it kind of... it's no longer in use", he resolves.

I frown, why? I was going to mention his wife's car, but I realise the keys are on my set of keys in my bag.

"I'm sorry I left the keys for the other car on my set of house keys".

"Did you not drive home?"

"No ... my - I was picked up"

I can be secretive too.

"... OK. If you can hold on to the kids for another half an hour? I'll see if my father can pick them up".

~xXx~

In the end their grandmother does pick them up forty five minutes later, and makes a snide comment about me not being able to keep Xoë in her dress and ribbons.

I slouch back into the kitchen.

"Tequila. More" I instruct Ellen and she pours me another one. Trent and his grandparents are in the living room with Buddy watching one of his birthday presents.

"What happened?"

"She made me feel", I indicate the size of a grain of rice with my fingers, "this small".

Salt.

"Whose that? Their mother?"

"No their grandmother", I say, tongue hanging out.

Lime.

"Why could their mother not pick them up?"

I knock back my drink, and cringe at the taste.

"Their mother is dead", I say unceremoniously.

"What?" Ellen almost chokes on her drink.

"Their mother, I think is dead", I re-clarify.

"Think! Don't you know?"

I shake my head.

"God Dana, don't put people in their graves unless you know for sure".

"I'm pretty sure she is, but I don't care - "

Ellen's eyes widen.

"No I do care, of course I feel deeply sorry for them. I've been on the verge of crying about it all week. It's just ... It's just ... I don't know ... I don't want to get too attached. It's just a job".

"Your mom asked me how you were when she dropped off the cake..."

"Yeah", I loll my head back, the tequila kicking in.

"I said you were well, working".

"Did you say doing what?"

"No"

"Good".

~xXx~

Monday 14th October
09:08

Sunday evening, Dr Mulder went back to his apartment in his new car, leaving me and the kids in the mansion. It was a quick turn over and we could not have mumbled more than a few words to each other, a hello and a goodbye maybe. But then, need we say anymore to each other? I am the children's nanny and he is their father. Really if any conversation between us in going to happen, it would be about the children.

Like the conversation we had around six this morning. Cell to ear, I groggily listened to him informing me of Theodore's doctor appointment. I made a mental note of the time and place, exchanged a few OKs and then put the phone down and rolled over for the full five minutes until my alarm went of informing me it was time to get up and feed the baby.

"Theodore Mulder?"

I snap out of my daze and look up at the nurse smiling expectantly in my direction.

I flash her a smile and nod, following behind her with Theodore in tow.

Positioning Theodore's car seat on the patient bed, I lift him out of the confines and he gurgles happily kicking his legs. Nestling him close to me, I place the seat on the floor and sway softly with him. His head nestles closer into my chest, and he lets out a few of the soft sighs he normally does just before going to sleep. He has been sleeping a lot lately.

I catch the nurse's gaze and realise that she is waiting for me to pass her the baby.

Oh.

Gently, and with some hesitation, I pass him over.

Theodore becomes agitated and begins to fuss, his eyes lock on mine, and I follow the nurse over to where the nurse lays him down. I lean over him and rest a steady hand on his stomach and blow a light breath atop his forehead, and he calms down.

"Sorry", I apologise to the nurse, but my gaze is still fixed on Theodore. He smiles up at me and kicks about excitedly, "someone's a little tired today and so is a bit grumpy", I coo, placing a few raspberries under his neck. He grabs on to my face, and tries to keep it there.

When I free myself, the nurse is looking on at me with patient annoyance.

"Sorry", I apologise.

She probably has lots of patients to see.

My eyes flick to her name tag.

Sarah.

Late 30s. Dyed white blonde hair, black eyes. Her left eyebrow is plucked higher than her right.

Sarah probably has lots of patients to see today.

She indicates to the seat near her desk - far away from Theodore, "if you could please sit", and I do.

"Now this is Theodore's three month check up" she states, whilst testing Theodore's limbs.

"Yes", I confirm, all of a sudden feeling very nervous. I have seen medical ops on babies before, but Theodore looked particularly dinky and vulnerable on the patient bed. I shift uncomfortably, reminding myself to remain in my seat.

"Do you have his baby book?"

"Yes", I say happily. Pleased with myself that I actually did remember it. I fish it out of my bag and pass it over to her, then sit back down, nervously twisting my fingers. I should have read what it said, why did I not read what it said?

The nurse opens it and reads it briefly, that I expect that she already know what is on it.

"Good", she affirms resting the book on her desk. She then goes over and picks up Theodore, who is suddenly just in his diaper - I wish I could be that quick getting him in and out of clothes - and takes him over to the scales. "So Theodore is here for three of his jabs today - "

I instinctively rub my hands nervously on my thighs.

"... his Rotavirus, Pnuemococcal and his five in one DTaP/IPV/Hib - "

I gulp and she stops, turning in my direction.

"... the DTaP/IPV/Hib will prot - "

"I study medicine, I know what they stand for ... it just sounds ... a lot" - a lot for tiny Theodore.

"Well he's been scheduled in for them", she says a bit defensively, "but they are optional to the parents' decision".

"... I know ...", she watches me warily, "it's just... Never mind", I stop, embarrassed.

She leaves Theodore on the scales and walks back over her notes on the computer screen.

"We have already put a month halt on his jabs due to his underdevelopment - "

I frown.

"I'm sorry", I stop her and she looks up at me from her screen, "what's wrong with his development?"

"Due to the nature of his birth - "

"Sorry. What was the nature of his birth?"

Now it is her turn to frown at me. "Are you not - the fact that he was born two months early"

Oh.

She frowns, "are you not the child's mother?"

I shake my head, "I'm his nanny".

"Oh", she nods understanding, "I'm sorry, when Theodore was first brought in a month ago, your hu- Theodore's father brought him in. I just assumed..."

"No it's OK. I have only been his nanny for a little over a month now".

She walks back to Theodore and the scales and continues her weighing of him.

"Eight pound nine ounces", she mutters, and then takes Theodore back to the baby mat on the patient bed and measures him with a stadiometre. "Twenty inches". Then the circumference of his head, "Thirteen".

She then turns back to me and offers me a tight smile. "You can dress him now".

I silently dress Theodore, quite stunned by the revelation that he was born two months early, more so that, I had only found out now. Just reinstates the fact, that I really do not know nothing about these kids I have been nannying the last month. My gaze trails down from the blank wall in front of me, to him, his big blue eyes are watching me earnestly. I smile gently brushing my fingertips across his forehead.

The nurse of course is annoyed by my slowness, and is checking her watch when I turn with a dressed Theodore.

"So, I have not done a physical on Theodore because he had one just three weeks ago", her eyes check her computer screen for affirmation, "but have you - as his primary care giver for the last month, noticed anything different or odd in his behaviour?"

Oh shizer, I did not think I would be asked these questions.

I make a face, "in the month that I have looked after him, no. He is sleeping more?" I offer.

"Is he awake longer too?"

"Yes", naps after every feed are a thing of the past now. Unfortunately for me, it's usually in the early hours of the morning that he decides sleep is not for him.

"Well that's quite normal then", she shifts her position. "How does he sleep?"

Is she testing me? "On his back"

She nods, "good".

Yes, I did my googling.

"How often is he eating?"

"Every two hours".

"Consistently?"

"Yes".

She seems slightly baffled by this.

"... Is that bad?" I edge.

"No", she dismisses, "at this stage, and with Theodore particularly, whenever he is hungry, he should eat, as he is a little underweight for his age - "

Oh. My eyes downcast to the baby who had now fallen asleep in my arms.

"But", I lift my gaze up, "like I said, in Theodore's case, being four pounds when he was born, his weight gain is OK, but I want to put off giving him his injections until he is over ten pounds"

I look back down at him. Wow four pounds, that was small, and I position one of his fists around my finger and rub it gently with my thumb.

"What about his sight and his sound? Is he responding OK?"

I bring my gaze back on the nurse, "as far as I can tell, yes".

"Do you lie him on his stomach?"

Shizer.

"No ... Is this something I should do?"

"Well time on his tummy will help him to push up, roll over and eventually crawl".

"OK"

~xXx~

10:13

I feel so drained when we eventually get back to the car, but I told Dr Mulder that I would bring Theodore to see him afterwards. I am not even bothered about walking through SOM in broad daylight, not that I bump into anyone I know. Nor would it be likely really, as Ethan says everyone on the course us currently on residency.

I smile thinking of Ethan, and then sour when I realise it is only Monday and it is another four days until I see him.

Arriving outside Dr Mulder's office door, I rap loudly.

It is answered immediately, but not by the person I expected.

~xXx~

Big white pearly teeth. Over the top smile. Rosy pink plump lips. Expressive large blue eyes. Dark brown boy crop.

"Hello", she offers her hand.

English.

Is this Mrs Mulder? She looks a bit like the woman in the photograph - no it cannot be, I correct myself. This person is older.

"Scully", I look behind the luscious five foot ten blockade to find the boyish grin of Dr Mulder, balancing dangerously on the two legs of his office chair.

"Scully?!" she sounds over the top, retracting her hand.

And big breasts, I just notice them, but I am sure Dr Mulder has not. Maybe this is she devil?

"Yeah", Mulder laughs at big breasts shock, "that's what I call her", he says resting all four legs back down.

Does he now.

"Scully", he says jumping up, "this is Phoebe Green, an old college friend from Oxford. She's an investigator at London Met".

Oh. Accomplished.

"Phoebe, this is my nanny".

She does not turn back in my direction. Her lecherous smile stays fixed on Dr Mulder. I guess I have missed out on the offer of a handshake.

"And this", he takes the car seat from my hand. "Is my youngest son, Theodore", he proudly lifts the sleeping baby and his car seat onto the desk.

She takes in an over-the-top gasp. I also do not miss the way her hand grips into his bicep, fingernails and all.

"Oh Foxy!"

One of eyebrows arches. Is she for real?

While one hand maintains its grip, the other, rests on her heart. "He is simply adorable!"

"Hmmm", he muses.

"Nothing like you", she teases. The other hand joining on his arm.

He chuckles.

"In fact", she turns in my direction and catches me staring, "oh god! She looks just like the nanny!", she bursts out laughing, and yes, actually snorts.

Dr Mulder shakes his head, perhaps somewhat embarrassed. "He had a doctors appointment today. How did that go?" he asks, walking out of Phoebe's hold and towards me.

"The nurse said he was good. A little underweight - "

He nods his head, concerned but it's nothing new. It must have been an issue before.

"She did not give him the jabs - "

"Not yet ten pounds?"

I shake my head and he makes a face.

"Eight pound nine", I recall.

"Yeah", Dr Mulder frowns, "he was around that when I took him a month ago. Eight pound seven I think".

Eight pound six - I read it. "Oh", I remember, "you never mentioned that Theodore was two months premature".

"Didn't I?" he frowns, and then pushes up his lip, "I guess it never came up in conversation".

"Well it would have been helpful".

His eyes narrow on me. Oh no - maybe my tone was too scolding.

"I would not have looked like such a fool"

His face turns into a smile, "I'm sure you didn't. Scully here is training to become a doctor?" Mulder turns to Phoebe, who is watching us very carefully with her arms crossed.

She raises her eyebrows in recognition.

"She's top of her class", he continues, turning back to me smiling.

I feel myself going red in the cheeks - oh well I had mad it this long, it is definitely an improvement.

"She's going to make. A great doctor one day".

"Stop it Foxy", Phoebe walks over, forcing her arms through his, "can't you see you're making the poor girl go red with embarrassment. And", she nudges him so he takes his eyes off of me, "you're putting the rest of us in a bad light".

He chuckles again.

And then everything goes very silent.

Phoebe is still clutching Dr Mulder. I'm definitely starting to feel like a third wheel. I wondered if I interrupted anything...?

"So", I start, before unwanted images spring in my mind, "what brings you this side of the pond?" I ask.

Phoebe smiles endearingly. "Oh you're so sweet. Foxy, your nanny is so sweet", she muses. I frown at Dr Mulder, wondering what it is that makes me so sweet, but it seems that he is also confused. "I'm here on a case", she says, very importantly. "I've asked Fox for his help, and I'm in time for his birthday party this weekend", she smiles at him, all teeth.

"It's your birthday this weekend?"

Shizer. I wonder if I have to get him anything ... What would I get him?

"It was on Sunday"

"Yesterday?!" I ask astonished.

"Yes", he chuckles.

"But I didn't ... Happy Birthday for yesterday", I mumble, feeling even more embarrassed.

"Thank you", he pulls a lazy smile to one side, his eyes boring into mine. My stomach swoons - yes he still has that effect.

The room goes silent again, I distantly hear Theodore's soft snores and snap out of my trance in Dr Mulder's eyes.

"I uhm ...", I downcast my gaze, "I better get going", I indicate my hands in the direction of Theodore's car seat.

"Yeah", Dr Mulder smiles, moving out the way. "How were the twins this morning?"

"Good", I say twirling the keys, and I'm not lying they really were. Maybe we are taking a step in the right direction. "... They were good this morning".

"And you?"

I look up sharply, and frown slightly. "... Yeah ... I'm good".

He nods, perhaps embarrassed, and I smile shyly.

"OK, I'm going to go", I say exiting. "It was nice to meet you", I turn slightly to Phoebe, who is still clutching Dr Mulder.

"Oh wait", Dr Mulder's voice stops me and I turn, making myself look him straight in his eyes. I do not want him to think me of being shy in his presence. "... My party this Saturday. It's probably going to be as boring as hell, I mean my mom's organising it. She does it every year, bunch of old people", he stops, and laughs, "I'm sorry, I've probably made it sound like the most pathetic thing ever".

"No. It sounds like fun - I mean, if that was invite. I guess you need someone to look after the kids anyway?"

"Yeah - no I mean, I want you to come... to the party, even without the kids".

"OK, well I'll see", I smile broadly at him and then bolt out of the room and down the corridor, before I do or say something stupid.

"Uh Scully", Dr Mulder's voice stops me again, near the lift.

I turn, focussing on him and then the raised car seat in his hand.

"You forgot the baby".

so this is going somewherem it may not seem like it as of yet. Sorry for the long pause in chapters and the typos. Until next update!