IV.

When she returned to the other bedroom, she found Dana sitting in bed, flipping through a stack of documents. Knowing Dana, they were probably autopsy case reports. She was so engrossed in them that she didn't notice Monica enter.

"Hey, no work in bed," Monica scolded lightly as she approached.

Dana looked up. "Hm? Oh. Hey." She gave her a guilty smirk and dropped the stack of documents onto the nightstand beside her. "Thanks for reading to Will tonight."

"Oh yeah, of course."

"You're way better at doing the voices than me."

"Are you kidding?" Monica slid her legs under the covers to sit alongside Dana in bed. "You're terrific. Unmatched. Your Wise Owl voice is uncanny." They both laughed, knowing this wasn't true.

"How was work today?" Dana asked. She reached over to rest an arm on Monica's shoulder and twirl her fingers through Monica's hair.

Monica could tell that she knew something was up. Dana may not have felt cosmic vibrations like she did, but she was observant. She could seem oblivious at times, but she rarely ever was.

"Ugh," she replied.

She knew she couldn't just leave it at that, and continued after a pause. "Grueling. The lead we picked up on last night was a bust. So we had to backtrack onto the sketchy wire transfers trail and that was... a mess. It took forever. We had to do it manually. Not to mention Kersh and his new henchmen breathing down our necks the whole time."

Dana rubbed her arm in sympathy. "That does sound grueling. At least you found the mother, right? The one who you think killed those three members of the Legion group?"

Monica lifted her chin towards the ceiling and rolled her eyes before closing them. "Yeah, but she wouldn't talk. Not even after John found traffic cam footage tying her to the scene."

"Ah. I'm sorry."

"I'm just glad the day is over."

"Me too. So what else is going on?"

Monica didn't flinch—she had expected Dana to inquire further like this. Still, she kept her eyes closed, stalling. She stretched her arms and clasped her hands together, resting them over the covers, in her lap.

"Mmm..."

"Monica, what is it?" Dana's hand moved up once again, this time using her thumb to trace the sharp edge of Monica's jaw.

"It's nothing. Well... I mean, yeah, that's about it. Just work stuff."

She was chickening out, dammit. She had fully intended to bring up the matter with Dana tonight. But now she was actually in bed with said Dana, feeling content with the warmth of the body next to her and the softness of the skin touching her face. She didn't want to break this moment of peace.

"Monica, tell me."

Dana seemed to be getting more concerned now. It wasn't like Monica to withhold information. She was usually the talker, and Dana was usually the one being coaxed to open up. The role reversal was strange.

Fear stood tall before Monica, taunting her with the possibility that her questions may push her lover away.

Come on, Monica. She knew she had to risk it.

After a few more moments of silence, she took a deep breath and began to explain. She opened her eyes but kept looking straight ahead, away from Dana. Her heart thumped in her chest.

She told Dana about how they had taken in the mother for questioning. About how their interview had been delayed because of some bureaucratic BS from one of Kersh's minions. It had been both Monica and John in the room at first, until John had gotten a message from the FBI analytics department downstairs.

That had left Monica and the mother, who was much more clever than Monica had first taken her for. She had attributed the mother's actions to protecting her son, but while sitting in the room with her, she had begun to see more. She could sense that the woman was more invested in the greater mission of the Legion group than she let on. But Monica had struggled to push her into revealing more information, whether it was regarding the woman's involvement or her son's whereabouts. And it was all so frustrating. She knew it was no use blaming herself now, and that she could give it another go tomorrow, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the interview had been unproductive because she had been distracted.

Monica had intended to be concise, but her nerves made her very long-winded. Intentional or not, it was quite obvious that she was stalling. She could tell that Dana knew this, but the other woman made no attempt to interrupt, which Monica appreciated.

Finally, she pushed herself to get to the heart of the matter. This too was approached in a roundabout way. She pretty much recited her entire interrogation of the subject up until the question of interest, scrounging together more and more courage as she did so.

"...And then she asked me if I had any children."

"Yeah?"

There was no change in Dana's tone of voice at first. This newest detail probably seemed like just one of many extraneous ones Monica had been tossing out over the course of her story.

Dana seemed to catch on, however, when Monica hesitated here, twisting her fingers.

"And so it got me thinking..." Monica shut her eyes again—another sign that she was getting to the point.

"Yes?" Dana was being quite patient with her. Monica could feel her sympathy, mixed in with some confusion.

"Well, it caught me off guard because... I didn't know how to answer. I—I ended up saying yes. As in… William."

As she uttered his name, Monica's anxiety shot even higher, and before Dana could respond, she continued, moving quickly to provide more explanation, more context, more cushion to the painful fall that she was now anticipating.

"It was such a simple question, but it made me realize that there's something I never really... sorted out, in my mind. And that's… Am I a parent to William? I definitely do a lot of things that parents do, but that doesn't automatically make me one. But I love him like a son, Dana. Though, I haven't had biological children of my own, so how am I to know? Right? Of course, you are his mother, and Mulder is his father. But then who am I? I've always been content just being...me, I guess, but I realized I'm not really sure we are on the same page about my place in all of this. And you know I love you, and I respect you. I don't want to upset you. But I really need to know."

She took a pause to inhale deeply for air. Dana stayed silent as she did so. Monica's eyes remained shut—she couldn't see Dana's expression.

"So, do you consider me William's parent? A mother—uh, step...mother?"

Monica finally opened her eyes, and her heart raced even faster as she saw a look of great incredulity spread across Dana's pale face. Dana's icy eyes were widened, her eyebrows knitted together, and the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown. Monica gulped, bracing herself for a harsh rebuttal. She felt the urge to shut her eyes again, but willed herself to face the backlash with courage.

"Of course you are."

Monica immediately opened her mouth to apologize and then closed it once her brain processed Dana's words. It dropped open once again. Wait, what?

When Monica didn't respond, Dana continued. "Of course you are," she repeated. "You are just as much of a mother to Will as I am." Her expression softened with these last words.

With great relief, Monica began to realize that Dana's incredulity had stemmed not from Monica thinking that she was a parent to William, but from Monica thinking that she possibly wasn't.

To Dana, the answer had been obvious.

Yet, Monica's mind was still wired on explanation, on defense.

"I—I was just afraid I was crossing boundaries by considering him that. I know I'm around, and I help out a lot, but I wasn't sure if it was alright that I saw him as my child too." Monica shook her head and looked down at her lap, shielding herself.

"Are you kidding, Monica?" Dana said, with a tone of encouragement. "You're just as much of a mother as I am. Short of carrying him around in your uterus for nine months, but hey. You were there when he was born, for God's sake. You delivered him."

These words were reassuring, and Monica found herself able to untense her muscles a bit, her panic lifting.

"Okay," she said simply, still taking it all in. She looked up and met Dana's eyes, which were bright and piercing and earnest.

"You delivered him into this world," Dana re-emphasized. She took Monica's hand into hers, intertwining their fingers. "You were there the moment he was born. And in the years since, you have done so much and given so much for him. You take him to preschool, you nurse him when he's sick. You read him bedtime stories. You teach him. You protect him. To me, you haven't just been 'helping out,' Monica. You've been raising him. With me."

"Okay." Her heart was racing now at all these new affirmations. Monica knew she probably looked like a deer in the headlights at the moment.

"So yes, I do consider you as his mother. I'm sorry I didn't make this clear to you." Dana freed her hand from Monica's in order to rest it on her cheek. She tucked a strand of Monica's hair behind her ear and then leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. Monica felt her heart start to calm down, and her mind becoming less dazed.

"No, Dana, don't apologize. I should have asked about this ages ago."

Dana shrugged. "I can understand why you didn't, though. I didn't either, perhaps for the same reason. It just never occurred to me."

"Do you think William considers me as a mother to him?" This was another burning question for her.

"Of course. I mean, he even calls you 'Monny.'"

"Yeah, short for Moni-ca."

"Oh. I thought he was just being creative since 'Mommy' was already taken."

Monica laughed. "Maybe it's that, too."

Dana smiled, and Monica's heart now began to melt. The mix of anxiety, surprise, and relief gave way to the comforting warmth of validation.

She wrapped her arms around Dana's neck and pulled her in for a soft, sweet kiss, burying her face in the crook of Dana's neck afterwards. She felt even more connected to her now with the confirmation that they were indeed raising William together.

Monica also felt a new sense of clarity that she hadn't been aware she needed until that day. She was endlessly glad to be having this conversation. In a life full of uncertainties, it was wonderful to know at least some things for sure.

She had a son, and his name was William.

This echoed in her head like many thoughts had that day, though now they were no longer taunting but rather comforting.

My son, son, son.

And Dana kept the validation going, trying to make up for past untaken opportunities. As they lay down in preparation for sleep, she planted a group of kisses across Monica's cheek and told her what a good mother she was, and how lucky William was to have her, and how lucky she was to have her. Monica melted once again.

She didn't want things to change much as a result of this conversation, and she also didn't expect them to. Like Dana had pointed out, Monica had been raising William all along. There wasn't anything she had to do to be more of a mother to him. Instead, she figured the biggest changes would be in how she viewed herself. It was going to be interesting to actually see herself as a mother. It would probably take some getting used to.

She was glad to have Dana by her side through it all. The two of them nestled together in bed and reminisced about some of William's milestones before going to sleep. His first tooth, his first words, first steps, first time on a plane... There was much to be nostalgic about, and much to look forward to.

"Good night," said Dana. After a second, she added, "Mom-ica."

Monica laughed and batted her arm. "Okay, I think that is a bit cringeworthy. Let's just stick to Moni."

SIX MONTHS LATER

Fuji or Gala? Honeycrisp? What about Pink Lady?

Monica waffled at the vast array of red fruits before her. She always had trouble deciding what kind of apples to get. At least Granny Smith was out of the running—the stock of that variant had been cleared out, save for a few bruised leftovers. Those were quite sour, anyway, and she wasn't planning on making a pie…

She stepped to the side as another shopper approached—one who apparently had a clearer agenda than she did. The other woman went straight for the Fuji apples, bagging about three or four of them before continuing on her way.

That woman looks trustworthy enough. Fuji it is.

Monica bagged four fresh, shiny apples herself and placed them into her grocery basket, which had grown quite heavy. The fruit joined a carton of milk, some coffee creamer, broccoli, cereal, bread, and a can of whipped cream.

She smiled to herself as she made her way to the checkout lines. Apples meant they got to tease Dana later. She had a running gag of pretending to use the fruits as a repellent against her.

Stop, Dana! You can't come into the kitchen. Can't you see that there is an apple there?

The checkout lines were long, but this wasn't surprising. It was Sunday morning, after all. She joined the one that seemed to be the shortest and waited, double-checking her basket to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

In front of her, a young boy was pleading with his mother, begging her to buy him a toy. It was a big, green T-rex dinosaur with a disproportionately large head. As Monica looked closer, she saw that it was animatronic. And… mobile? It looked like it came with a remote control.

The boy confirmed this for her as he demonstrated the toy's features for his mother. He pressed a few buttons on the remote, commanding the toy's big feet to wave in the air. Monica was too far away and the store was too loud for her to hear their conversation, but it became clear what the mother's answer was from the triumphant look on the boy's face.

Monica made a mental note of the brand displayed on the toy's packaging. It seemed like a good gift idea for William—his birthday was coming up very soon, and he was currently going through quite a dinosaur phase. He would have a blast with a remote control T-rex.

Once she checked out at the register, her heavy grocery basket transformed into some heavy grocery bags, and she nearly regretted making the choice to walk to the store.

She was reminded of her reasoning, however, once she exited the building. It was a beautiful spring day, so picturesque that it almost seemed artificial. The sun was fully out, the sky was a clear blue, and flowers were in bloom all around. Monica breathed in the fresh air as she made her way down the block. Perhaps they could go to the park today, or bike riding. Or both.

Though she didn't mind, her arms were quite sore once she reached home. She was surprised to find Dana standing in the hallway outside of the apartment. She was still dressed in her Sunday best—heels, a sharp blouse, and pantsuit that could somehow be distinguished as church clothes and not work clothes. Monica couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

Either way, it was a sharp contrast to her own attire, which consisted of a T-shirt, joggers, and running shoes. A life with Dana was a life constantly being underdressed—not that she minded that, either.

"Hey." She approached Dana, who turned and lit up, smiling as she saw her.

"Oh, hey." Dana reached out to take some of the grocery bags, but Monica set them down on the hallway floor instead.

"What are you doing out here?" Dana certainly hadn't looked like she was locked out.

"We have been told to wait out here."

"What? By who?"

"You'll see."

Monica was confused. The only other resident of the apartment was William, and he was supposed to be out that day, with…

"Are Will and Mulder in there?"

"You'll see," said Dana again, though her smile gave the affirmative answer.

Why were they here? Oh. It wasn't until then that Monica realized what day it was. Of course.

Before she could comment on it, the door opened, revealing William wearing a bow tie clipped onto his stegosaurus T-shirt.

"Hello!" he said. "You can come in now!"

Dana and Monica smiled at him, and then each other, and followed him inside with the groceries.

The wonderful smell of food hit Monica's senses as she walked through the door. Mulder stood in the entryway wearing Dana's blue apron, which was dusted in various places with flour.

"Hello, ladies." He bowed and took the groceries from them. Putting on a French accent, he continued with, "Welcome to Chez William."

As Mulder brought the bags into the kitchen, William took their now-free hands and led them to the dining table.

"Oh wow," remarked Dana. "Look at this!"

The table was full of food. Lots and lots of it. Steam was still rising from the plates of eggs, bacon, and sausage. There were baskets of golden croissants and plump muffins. Most importantly of all, there were pancakes. Some stacks were plain, and others were speckled—it looked like there were blueberry and chocolate chip flavors to choose from. Little jars of honey and fruit jams added more color to the scene, and a pitcher of what looked like maple syrup rested beside them.

The table was set for four, and their seats had been pre-assigned with name cards written neatly in green crayon. In the center of it all was a clear glass vase bursting with pink, orange, and white tulips. It all looked beautiful, and delicious, and inviting.

Dana and Monica looked at the table in awe. William jumped with excitement, waving his arms up in the air.

"Happy Mother's Day!" he shouted.

"Happy Mother's Day." Mulder echoed William as he approached and added another stack of pancakes to the table.

"Gosh," said Monica. "You boys have really outdone yourself!" She smiled at both Will and Mulder. "Thank you."

Dana shared similar gratitude. "This is so sweet."

"Yeah, yeah." Mulder pulled out the chairs and gestured towards the seats. "Let's eat."

He didn't have to tell them twice. Dana and Monica took their places at the ends of the table as Will and Mulder sat down at the sides. No one wasted any time before loading their plates with food, commencing their feast.

"Can you pass me the bacon?"

"Be careful, this plate is still pretty hot."

"Muffins, please!"

"Now Will, those are pretty crumbly, okay? So you need to be careful not to—"

"Whoops!"

"Uh oh."

"What happened?"

"Don't worry, I got it, I got it."

"Thanks."

"Yummmmm. I love muffins!'"

"Me too, buddy."

Monica smiled as she looked around at everyone. They were all enjoying their meal and their company. Her own good mood was further elevated when it became her turn to whisk some blueberry pancakes onto her plate.

"Ah," she said. "So this is why you asked me to get whipped cream yesterday."

"Yes!" Will replied. "Whip cream is very important."

"Indeed." Mulder took the can from his side of the table and handed it to Monica. "No pancake would be complete without this."

"Absolutely." She dispensed a large dollop of cream on top of her pancakes, and then some on the side for good measure before helping Will garnish his own stack.

The food was all as delicious as it looked. The blueberry-to-pancake ratio was perfect—not too little, not too much. The pancakes melted in her mouth, and she savored every bite. It was quite easy to forget how good of a cook Mulder could be—he didn't do it often, but when he did, he did not disappoint.

"There's a special ingredient in the pancakes," he remarked.

"What is it?" replied Monica.

"It's a secret!" said William, holding a finger up to his mouth.

"Is it alien dust?" asked Dana.

"It's a secret," Mulder repeated, mirroring William's expression.

"Alien dust," confirmed Dana, and Monica laughed.

The rest of the meal remained as enjoyable and playful as it had started. They all feasted fervently, eating until their stomachs could not take any more. Once the last person—Mulder—threw in the towel, he turned his head towards William.

"Hey, Will. Didn't you have something else for these two?"

William, who had been significantly absorbed by a post-meal trance, piqued back up immediately.

"Oh, yeah! Be right back." He got up and scurried away, leaving Monica to look across the table at Dana with curiosity.

He dashed into his bedroom and re-emerged just a few minutes later, holding a large envelope. Upon returning to the table, he grabbed Dana's hand and led her to his own seat, pulling it over next to Monica. He then stood between the two of them and opened the envelope.

"I made this at school!" He pulled out a large blue, folded piece of paper.

It was a card. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY was written in big green letters across the front. Around the words, he had drawn and colored in red and pink flowers.

"Oh, this is beautiful, Will." Dana roped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. "Thank you."

Opening the card revealed another drawing he had made—this time of a little figure hand-in-hand with larger figures on either side of it.

Monica's heart leapt as she recognized herself as the tall, brown-haired figure on the left.

"Is that me?" she asked, her voice reduced to almost just a gasp.

"Yeah, silly!" He placed a finger on the orange captions she had initially overlooked. Monny, Will, and Mommy.

Monica smiled, her eyes watering. She leaned in to hug him tight.

"Happy Mother's Day," he said again.

Yes, happy mother indeed.

thanks for reading my first published TXF fic :) i recently watched the show for the first time and GOD the grip that scully/monica has on me is unreal... i was disappointed at how relatively few fics were written about them so i am hoping to help change that now. i currently have 2-3 stories in progress so stay tuned for more!