April 1st, 1994-

In a wooden fold up chair, that always reminded her of one you might find in a church basement at an AA meeting, she sits at the end of Mulder's desk, staring at the contents of a manila folder. She wears a grey pant suit, with a blazer that doesn't skimp on shoulder pads. Beneath the single button of her blazer she wears a black t-shirt. As she closes the manila folder she begins to wonder how often her wardrobe choices reflect her mood.

She silently prays that her partner bursts through that basement office door, and announces they have a mission to the far reaches of the Earth so that she can escape her own existential crisis. Her artic blue eyes barely shift from the dingy basement floor she's staring at when her partner bounces into the room his typical bouncy, and enthusiastic self. His brown dress shoes shine in the illumination offered by the overhead fluorescents. He carries a file as he takes a seat in his chair.

Typically he is relatively enveloped in his case files, and hardly registers her presence. Today the gloomy mood practically seeps from her pores onto his desk. He instantly begins to reconsider his April's prank. Instead he gently loosens his red tie, and makes a trip around the front of the desk. He squats beside her, and offers his best boyish grin.

"Why so glum, Scully?"

"I'm pregnant," she answers, deadpan.

He tilts his head, trying to mathematically calculate when she might time to get pregnant during their relentless pursuit of the X-files. His face softens as he does his best to profile his skeptical partner. Her affect is flat, and she does not volunteer any further detail.

Mulder furrows his brow, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She meets his question with an exasperated sigh.

"I was going to prank you, but I can clearly see that you are not in the mood."

"I was just sitting here hoping you would walk in telling me that we have some case in Timbuktu, and that it is urgent we leave immediately so that perhaps we might get be consumed by their local wildlife, and I wouldn't have to face the reality of my own life."

He frowns, "Would you settle for a small town in Montana? Maybe if we really try we could contract malaria while we're traipsing around in the woods?"

"Fine," she nods.

He reaches up, and gently cradles her elbow. "Scully I can't help but wonder with all the travel, and reports necessary for the x-files when you might have managed to squeeze in time to find yourself impregnated with this impending bundle of joy."

"I have been wondering the same thing."

His head snaps up in her direction.

"I am pretty murky on the details myself."

He combs the recesses of his mind, "Is there a Casanova, or love interest that I am forgetting about?"

"No."

"A fling that you've never mentioned."

"No," she shakes her head.

"Can I ask when this happened?"

"A few months ago."

"I hope you're not saying that I've done anything untoward. I do seem to recall a particularly ill advised drinking game we partook in for around Christmas. You were supposed to go out, but you couldn't find your car keys. We sifted through piles, when you found a key under a stack of papers that we had forgotten about. That was when we remembered that we had gone to evidence lock up earlier in the day, and you left your car keys as collateral for returning their key to them. When we made it back to evidence lock up they were heading out for the day, but their boss had given them a nice bottle of bourbon as a gift for not losing any major items this calendar year. Of course Mitch, and Jackie are not bourbon drinkers, so they gave it to us, because they felt sorry at the number of laughs they had at your expense thinking about you frantically searching for your keys. We came back here, and the rest is fuzzy, other than the headache I had the next day."

She shakes her head, "I'm not suggesting that, Mulder. Don't be ridiculous. A single glass of bourbon is hardly enough to convince me to throwing my entire career away."

He waves at the basement accommodations, "What career Scully? As far as I can see you're stuck down here in the basement with me. Though I do suppose it is only up from here."

"You're not guilty of anything, Mulder. That was weeks prior to the mysterious events surrounding my suddenly occupied womb."

He pulls off his tie as he locks gazes with her, "How many weeks? Like three?"

"Do you know something I don't?"

"Have you forgotten our time with what we initially thought was a religious cult?"

She furrows her brow, "I don't recall any sort of…" she trails off.

"Brother Andrew?"

"You know that I don't remember what happened. Also, as I seem to recall no one survived any intimate contact with that group of… whatever they were."

He starts smirking, "You're pulling my leg, aren't you? This is all an elaborate scheme, isn't it? It does not escape my notice that today is April fool's."

After a few beats Dana offers a convincing smile, "Couldn't fool you."