So far: This story is a parody. Scully dumped Mulder and
went to Doggett, bringing William with her. Mulder was
completely surprised and couldn't figure out why Scully
left him. He's about to find out....

***
Mulder progressed from experiencing intense confusion to boiling with
righteous indignation over Scully's unfair, seemingly arbitrary
decision. He waited for her to call him with an apology, any sort of
admission that she had recognized the folly of her actions, but his
phone remained silent. Finally, he broke down and decided to
approach her first. The only problem was, Scully wasn't answering
her cell phone. She wasn't at her apartment or her mother's place.
Reluctantly, Mulder swallowed his pride and dragged himself to the
next most likely location: Doggett's house. There, much to his
dismay, Scully's car with William's seat strapped in the back stood
in the driveway. Mulder strode to the front door, rapped, waited,
impatiently rapped again, waited again as Scully and Doggett took
their sweet time answering.

Then a scuffling sounded and the person behind the door uttered a
merry peal of laughter. As the door swung open she turned her head
toward him and Mulder saw that it was Scully, hair rumpled, eyes
sparkling, lipstick smudged. She rarely laughed around *him*. She
also rarely wore an outfit like today's white t-shirt and faded blue
jeans with holes in the knees.

Even as Mulder stared at her bra-less chest, Scully's mirthful
expression faded. She crossed her arms and said flatly, "Mulder."

He dragged his eyes upward and bulled ahead, "I need to talk to you."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Can it wait? I'm watching NASCAR
with John."

Mulder gaped. "Since when do you watch NASCAR?"

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Mulder."

"I'm beginning to realize that," he muttered. "Look, can I at least
step inside? We have some things to talk about and I'd rather not do
it on Doggett's front porch."

"All right. Come in." Scully grudgingly inched back from the door
and allowed Mulder room to enter. She then led him into the living
room, where the television was indeed tuned to a car race. Picking
up the remote control, Scully hit the mute button.

Mulder glanced around. Doggett was nowhere to be seen. He settled
down on the couch hoping Scully would choose the spot next to him,
but instead she retreated halfway across the room to an armchair.
"Where's Doggett?" he asked.

"He's upstairs. He'll be down soon."

"OK." Mulder took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Scully, what's
going on here? This is all coming from out of the blue. Why did you
dump me and run to Doggett? What's so great about him?"

"What's so great about him?" Scully echoed. "Well, Mulder, you'll
have a difficult time comprehending this but he's a mature adult
who acts his age. He's also lived a normal life and he has his
feet planted firmly on the ground. You'll notice *he* doesn't
constantly obsess about a missing relative and make that issue his
life's driving force."

Mulder sputtered in indignation, "Hold on a minute. Maybe you've
forgotten, but the man's son was abducted and murdered. That's not
so different from the situation with Samantha and me."

Scully laughed shortly. "You're not even close to the mark, Mulder.
The *main* difference between you and John is that he's managed to
put his tragedy behind him and move on with his life in a healthy
way. He'll never forget Luke, but his memories don't fuel his
existence. You, on the other hand, have allowed your fixation with
Samantha to rule your life from adolescence through adulthood, and
it's stunted your emotional growth beyond repair. I'm sorry if this
sounds callous or cruel but sometimes the truth hurts. You are who
you are. I should have moved on a long time ago but instead I kept
giving you more and more time and more and more chances."

"But. . . but. . ." Mulder's mouth flapped open and shut. Stunned by
the attack coming from Scully of all people, he was at a loss for a
good argument and thus changed the subject with a distracting
question, namely the logical, "Can I see William?"

Scully looked down at her clasped hands, for the first time refusing
to meet his eyes. "Um, we have to talk about something. I was
thinking maybe William isn't such a good name for the baby after
all. Aren't there already enough Williams in our families? And as
for naming the baby after your father? I must have been suffering
from postpartum depression when I decided that because it makes
absolutely no sense. Your father sold your sister out and
participated in an evil shadow project that has devastated people's
lives, including my own. Why anyone would willingly name a child
after that monster you weren't even close to is beyond me."

Having built up a full head of steam, Scully began speaking more
emphatically. "I don't like the name William for my baby. It's
horribly inappropriate. And make no mistake about it, this is *my*
*baby*. I carried it for nine months and I suffered for it. Where
were *you* after I was infected with a giant slug and was in danger
of miscarrying? You were nowhere to be found. But John was right by
my side. He cut that slug out of me with an unsterilized pocket
knife. He was prepared to hotwire a bus for me. He always backed me
up, every time."

She paused for breath, and Mulder seized what might be his lone
opportunity to leap in. "It wasn't my fault I wasn't there. I didn't
ask to be abducted by aliens."

"To some extent it *was* your fault," Scully countered. "Your
insistence on chasing lights and UFOs got you into that mess. I
don't see any signs you've changed or even want to. You'll just
keep running around getting into trouble and expecting me to
understand and bail you out. Well, I'm through being your enabler.
It's time I do what's best for me and my son."