They sit in the comfort of their home, but neither one of them feels a sense of comfort. He sits in a wooden chair at their kitchen table, with his partner, and the love of his life sitting to his left. He studies her facial expression, and notes that it is wrought with guilt. She has been cold, and emotionally distant for weeks. He originally thought she was just having difficulty processing all of the new information they have learned alongside the fact that their caseload has not changed. He is just now considering the possibility that she has been keeping something from him.
"Are you telling me that you are no longer pregnant?"
"That is not what I am saying at all. Mulder, you're not listening to me."
"You just said that you have been given the opportunity."
"Will you let me explain myself?"
He nods in agreement, owing her as much.
Earlier that morning she finds herself being ushered into her OB/GYN's office. She sits in an exam room with her phone in hand, waiting for her phone to ring, and for Mulder to tell her that they have to jet off to some remote location to partake in a case involving the paranormal. There is a knock on the door, and the physician enters the room. He takes a seat, and studies the look on Dana's face.
"How are things going? How are you feeling? I was surprised when I heard that you called to make an earlier appointment, your next appointment isn't for two weeks. Are you still experiencing morning sickness?"
"Yes," she confirms.
"Something is bothering you, what is it?"
"I have had a scant amount of bleeding, and I just want to make sure that there isn't anything going on."
"I totally understand."
He performs a pelvic exam, and then briefly exits the room. He returns with a nurse, and they begin performing an ultrasound. He studies the images on the screen carefully. He finishes with the ultrasound, and the nurse hands him a Doppler. The room is suddenly filled with the sound of beating hearts. He finishes the exam, and the nurse leaves the room. Scully wipes the sticky gel off of her abdomen.
"Everything checks out. Their growth is on track, and their heart rates are well within normal limits."
"I sense you have some reservations? Is there something anomalous?"
"No, but I do need to have a difficult conversation with you."
"Okay," she agrees.
"You and I both know that from the second that we confirmed your pregnancy last month that you were placed into a category of high risk. You have been placed into that category based on your age, as well as the fact that you are carrying twins. We both know that you are at higher risk for pregnancy complications, genetic disorders, as well as preterm labor. We cannot change your age. We can however change those odds, if you chose to undergo selective reduction. I typically do not recommend that for twin pregnancies, but your case is different. I want to let you know that it is an option."
"I would prefer not to bring this topic of discussion up again. I am not going to selectively reduce anything, or anyone. I am well aware of the risks."
"You should also be aware that I will suggest genetic testing…"
She cuts him off, "I understand that it is the standard of care. I do not want to undergo genetic testing, and I do not want to be presented with the option of termination again."
"Understood."
"Why didn't you tell me this?" He queries.
"What did you want me to say?"
"Stop acting like a fortress, and let me in."
"That is what landed me in this situation in the first place," she reminds him.
"You haven't even mentioned this topic since a month ago," he points out.
"I'm sorry, but I needed some time to wrap my head around the idea."
"Everything is okay?"
"Everything appears to be normal."
"Can I go with you next time?"
"You don't believe me?"
He rolls his eyes, "That is not what I am saying at all. I just want to be involved. I don't think that I should have to ask permission."
"You don't, and it was insensitive of me not to include you."
"What if he had told you that there was an abnormality?"
"It doesn't matter," she insists.
"Are you sure?"
"I have committed to seeing this through."
"What if they are purple, and have spots, and a tail?"
"You mean, what if I give birth to Barney?"
He smiles widely, "Yeah," he nods.
"I suppose that I will be too shocked to name them, so you will be forced to take over that task."
"Barney, and Baby-bop it is."
She rolls her eyes, "Why do you know that information?"
"There was a brief time in the nineties when I only got PBS, and sometimes I would catch part of it. I was so mesmerized by the overstimulating mix of colors, and songs that I couldn't look away. It was like a train wreck."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"You should probably be scared," he points out.
She nods, "I am scared that they are going to come out of me babbling about conspiracy theories, holding flashlights."
"Scully, that is a given."
"I did have dream about a pair of t-rex's running around the backyard, do you think that means something?"
"Did they look like twins?"
"They were wearing Knick's jersey's trying to play baseball with you," she answers him with a serious look on her face.
"A t-rex can't play baseball their arms are too short."
Her lips curl into a smile.
"You just made that up," he accuses her.
"So you're fine with whatever comes out as long as they have arms, and you can teach them how to play baseball?"
He nods, "That is what I am saying. They can be green, or blue, or even grey, but they have to have arms. I'll settle for one arm, at least then they can pitch."
"You have twisted sense of humor," she calls him out.
"I'm not the only one."