"Fox!" Mulder's breath caught and he sat up quickly, feeling mildly disoriented. He leaned forward, his head in his hands, breathing quickly.
"Fox!" the insistent voice came again. Now he could tell it was coming from somewhere near the kitchen. He looked up as he heard small feet stomping towards the living room.
"Fox, you don't have anything for breakfast." his sister informed him, a no-nonsense look on her face that reminded him of their Mother so much that he almost laughed at her. "And your milk expired three weeks ago." Samantha thrust the foul-smelling carton into his hands, scales of old dried milk falling from it like snowflakes onto the carpet.
Mulder eyed her wordlessly, taking in the bossy little girl still dressed in an over-sized t-shirt. Though younger, she'd always tried to Mother him, scolding him when he went against their parents orders or made a mess. Slowly he smiled. "Sorry about that, boss. I'll pick some more up while we're out today. In the meantime, go get dressed. I'll call Scully, and we'll go to IHOP for breakfast before we go shopping. Sound good?"
Samantha grinned. "Yeah." She started towards the bedroom, than paused. "Fox, why do you call her 'Scully' instead of her name?"
"Her name is Scully, it's just her last name. A lot of Agents call each other by their last name. So do police officers and Security guards." he answered, folding the blanket he had slept with and putting it over the back of the couch. Normally he didn't bother, but he had a feeling his sister would chide him for being messy if he didn't. Though she was a tom-boy, Samantha had also always been very neat and fastidious.
"I know that." Samantha answered in a very 'duh' voice. "But how many still do that when they're dating?"
Mulder's face turned pink and he almost dropped the carton of old milk. "Scully and I aren't dating." he said to the closed bedroom door, going to throw the milk into the kitchen garbage.
The bedroom door opened a crack, just enough for Samantha to stick her head out. "You're not?" she asked, looking confused.
"No, we're not. We're just partners, at work, and friends." her brother told her firmly.
"Oh." Samantha answered, looking disappointed for a moment. "Well, what are you waiting for? Ask her out, Fox." The bedroom door snicked shut again and Mulder stared after it incredulously.
"And, a lot of people still use each others last names, even after they get married." he added uncertainly, making his way to the bathroom.
"So get married than!" Mulder heard faintly as he closed the bathroom door. He considered responding, than thought better of it.
"I think I might be in trouble." he muttered to himself.
Mulder, Samantha, and Scully sat at a corner table in the local IHOP. Scully had ordered a vegetable and egg-white omelet with light cheese and a fruit salad, and Mulder had two over-easy eggs, white toast, and bacon with a side of home-fries. Samantha, on the other hand, was happily tearing through a Western omelet with a side of toast, hash browns, sausage, and bacon; as well as a stack of three pancakes well-drowned in butter and real maple syrup.
Scully watched the child eat and almost felt a twinge of jealousy as she took a bite of her decidedly rather bland omelet. She didn't know where the kid put it; it had to be falling out of a hole in her leg or something.
"Where are we going shopping?" Samantha asked, barely intelligible through a mouthful of pancake and sausage, her legs drumming absently against the seat and making the booth vibrate, probably much to the chagrin of the people sitting behind them.
Mulder and Scully exchanged a look, her questioning and his imploring. He didn't know anything about taking a little girl shopping, nor what things they would want or need. Seeing that Mulder wasn't going to answer, Scully offered a suggestion.
"How about the Mall?" she proposed. "It'll have the biggest clothes selection, plus you can look at furniture there too, maybe some toys..." Samantha grinned at the mention of toys. "But not too many toys." Scully added. "If you get too many, Santa won't have anything to bring you for Christmas in a few weeks." Scully knew from talking to Mulder that their family had celebrated both Christmas and Hanukah growing up because their Mother had been Protestant but their Father had been Jewish.
A worry line creased Samantha's forehead and she looked over at her brother. "Fox, will Santa still come for me, even though I'm not really a kid anymore?"
Mulder was caught off guard, both by the question and the implication. He hadn't been thinking of Christmas at all, even though it was only a month away. Scully was the only one he had bought for in years, and he hadn't decorated for the holidays in far longer than that. He recovered quickly by pretending to choke on his food and need a sip of water. "Yeah, of course Santa's still coming. He doesn't care how old you are. Hell, er, heck, Santa still brings me presents every year." he promised, mentally reminding himself to watch his mouth.
Samantha seemed to relax a little. "Really?" she asked, her voice skeptical.
"Definitely, I still get gifts from Santa too." Scully added, deciding to help her partner out. She was glad to see Samantha having a child's worry, and she also felt that the little girl deserved to have something innocent to believe in, for at least another year or so.
Scully's addition seemed to reassure Samantha completely, and she went back to her food. A few moments later she looked back up at her brother. "Fox, we're still gonna celebrate Hanukah too, right?"
"Yeah, sure. Of course." he answered with a slightly rigid smile, mentally adding a menorah to the Christmas Tree, Stockings, and other multitude of things he was going to have to buy. Scully caught his eye and winked when Samantha wasn't looking. He felt a grateful smile spread across his face, and looking over at his sister he decided he was giving her the most amazing holiday season she'd ever had, even if he had to empty his entire bank account to do it.
At the mall, Samantha could barely contain her excitement. She'd never been to such a big shopping center. It was three stories high, and packed with every type of store known to man. Samantha also couldn't believe the technology, and her constant squealing at every mundane appliance she came across earned them plenty of strange looks from people passing by.
Mulder gave Scully a desperate look, holding his hands out in front of him, palms up. "Help me, I don't know how to shop for girls." he pleaded. "I don't know how many shirts she needs, or pants, or, or, whatever."
Scully had to suppress her laughter. "Mulder; relax. It isn't brain surgery. Get her a few shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, a couple shirts, some pajamas, and a dress or two for now. You can add more over time, and you can get her some clothes for Christmas and Hanukah, and that's in a few weeks." The blank look he gave her suggested that what she had said meant little to nothing to him. "Never mind; just follow us, and I'll tell you what to buy."
By the time they headed to the food court for lunch, Mulder was pretty sure his credit card was melting. He didn't understand how an eight year old could develop such refined tastes. He didn't remember Samantha being so fussy about her clothes before, but than again he had never gone shopping with her and their Mother. He had worn whatever his Mother had bought for him in exchange for not spending a Saturday at a clothing store trying things on.
Scully had insisted on buying a few of the outfits and assorted accessories that Samantha had picked out despite Mulder's protests, on the basis of the shopping trip being her idea. Now she was treating them to lunch at the coffee shop in the mall since Mulder had treated for breakfast. Looking at her as she paid for their sandwiches and drinks, Mulder decided he was really going to have to get her something nice for Christmas this year. Gazing at her, his conversation with Samantha this morning came drifting back to him and his cheeks began to burn.
Almost on cue, he felt an elbow jab into his ribs. He looked down at his sister guiltily, feeling much as he had when his Mother would catch him trying to sneak cookies as a child. Samantha smirked at him knowingly, but thankfully didn't say anything as Scully walked back over to them.
"Thank you for lunch, Dana." Samantha said, trying to scramble her way up a tall stool. After the third attempt, Mulder picked her up and sat her on the stool. Privately, he was beaming at her manners, which had so far been impeccable. He was surprised to find that there was one way in which his parents had apparently succeeded in raising their children. Thinking about that, and looking at Samantha, he realized that his parents had been fairly decent at raising them in general, until Samantha had vanished. He wondered if it had been sprung on them at the last minute, that one of their children had to be given up. He liked to think that it had been, and that if they had been given the time they would have just taken him and Samantha and run.
"You are very welcome, Samantha." Scully told the little girl as she tucked into her caprese sandwich. She noticed Mulder spacing out and attempted to bring him back to the conversation. "Mulder, you do know how to cook, don't you?"
"I know how to cook." he answered defensively. Samantha and Scully both gave him suspicious looks.
"I think she means more than heating up Spaghetti-Os or boiling hot dogs, Fox." Samantha informed him dryly, and Scully snorted into her plate.
"Hey, I might not be able to cook like-" he paused, having been ready to say Mom. He didn't really want to bring up their parents if Samantha wasn't thinking about them, so amended his statement. "-a, uh, chef, but I can cook. I can throw crock pot meals together, and casseroles, spaghetti..."
Samantha didn't miss a beat. "Oh, that's good. Just make sure the ingredients aren't three weeks too old before you use them."
Mulder gave his sister a rather dumbfounded look, but Samantha hadn't even bothered to look at him for his reaction. When he looked at Scully, she couldn't help the large smile spreading across her face or keep from giggling. Mulder shook his head, than reached out to ruffle Samantha's hair. "You're a little imp, you know that?"
Samantha ducked away from his hand, giggling. "Fox!"
After putting all of their purchases in the trunk of Mulder's car, the three went back inside to let Samantha play in the arcade for a little while. Pong had come out in 1972, but Samantha had never played, nor even seen, a video game of any type. Fox had played early games with college friends in arcades, but had never been particularly interested. Samantha, however, took to them like a fish to water. After showing her how to play, Mulder and Scully sat down on a bench and watched her.
"Maybe I should stop and pick up a PlayStation or Dreamcast or something for her." Mulder suggested, watching Samantha's intense concentration.
Scully laughed at him. "Mulder, you're going to spoil her rotten. You already got her three Lego sets, barbies, a bunch of books, crayons, markers, colored pencils, coloring books and sketch books, paint… you got her a Furby, those neodymium magnets, CDs, a bunch of movies. You got her two science experiment kits and a chemistry set. You can't get her everything all at once." Though her tone was rebuking, there was a gentleness to it.
Mulder glanced at her sideways for a split second before locking nervous eyes on Samantha again. "I know, but I want to."
Scully laughed and briefly rested her head against his shoulder for just a second or two. He could smell the sweet scent of her conditioner when she did so and felt his heart beat quicken. She turned to him, smiling. "I know you do, and I don't blame you. But don't do it. It'll ruin her holidays if you get her all the good stuff now. Santa has to bring the good stuff."
Mulder smirked at the mention of Santa. He'd never entertained the idea of playing the jolly old man himself. "Yeah… Santa. Right."
"Mulder… You have to play along for her. At least until she's 10. At the very least." Scully told him. "Besides, it's fun playing Santa. Missy and I had a lot of fun playing along for the two or three years Charlie believed after we found out."
Samantha running over to her brother for more money for the games brought the holiday conversation to a quick end. After she ran back into the arcade the duo fell into a comfortable silence for several minutes. Scully eventually broke it with a question.
"When are you planning on enrolling her in school? And where?"
Mulder gave her a pained, sheepish glance. "I'm not sure yet." he admitted. "I was thinking I might home-school her, at least for awhile. She already has so much to get used to..."
Scully's gaze was sympathetic, but her argument was significantly less so. "Mulder, that's exactly why she should be going to school. She needs a sense of normalcy, and to be around other kids her age. She needs to make new friends, and get used to a new life."
Mulder shrugged the argument off. "Well, I can't enroll her in anything just yet, anyway. I need the paperwork. They're going to issue her a new birth certificate with her year of birth being 1992 instead of 1965, and a new SSI number. I'll worry about it after the holidays."
"What are you going to do about work?" Scully asked, more softly now. It had occurred to her that Mulder had started his work on the X-Files, and been so dedicated for so long, because he was trying to find Samantha. Was there any reason to continue, now that he had found what he was looking for?
Mulder smiled, but there was little amusement in the expression. "I have plenty of vacation time owed to me. Considering the circumstances, I don't think Skinner will have a problem with me taking a few weeks off from work."
"You're going to come back to the X-Files?" Scully asked, feeling a bit surprised yet not surprised at all at the same time.
Mulder glanced at her. "I won't say I didn't think about quitting; I almost wrote my letter of resignation last night. But I can't. You didn't quit on me when I needed you, and I'm not going to quit on you, either. We still need to know who it was that arranged your abduction and performed experiments on you, and we need to stop them from harming anyone else, or you, again. Plus, I still don't know what happened to my sister. I don't know who took her, what they did to her… and I don't know if they're going to want her back."
Looking at the little girl play as Mulder spoke, Scully felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle and she nodded. It was true that they were still no closer now to knowing who had taken Samantha than when the X-File on her abduction was originally opened. It could have been the government, it could have been aliens, it could have been a secret group within the government who was working with the aliens. It could have been someone else entirely, for all they really knew about it. And without knowing, there was no way to keep it from happening again.
Mulder invited Scully to come over for dinner, but she declined, saying she had promised to have dinner with her Mother. So he dropped her off at home, than headed to the supermarket with Samantha. Scully had given him a list of things he needed to get for the little girl, including what toothpaste, shampoo, and conditioner she'd need. They picked up those necessities first, and now Samantha was flitting around the store, picking out her favorite foods.
"Fox, can we get bananas?" Samantha asked, putting a bunch of them in the cart.
"Yeah, go for it." he answered. They were healthy, anyway. At least she wasn't putting all candy, chips, and soda in the cart. Mulder eyed the rest of the fresh produce section a bit anxiously. Despite what he had told Samantha and Scully at the mall, cooking was not his strong suit. His decades of bachelorhood had been spent eating frozen food and take-out far too often. "So, uh, what did you want for dinner tonight, Samantha?" he asked, hoping he could talk her into pizza or Chinese food or something, at least for the night.
"Meatloaf, green beans, and real mashed potatoes." Samantha responded instantly, dashing her brother's hopes of getting away without cooking for another night. "I hate the boxed ones."
Mulder winced at the request, knowing there was no way it was going to go down well. It was Samantha's favorite meal, but he had no idea how to make their Mother's meatloaf. It had been a recipe Teena Mulder had been very proud of, but one she had never made again after Samantha's disappearance. She had tried once or twice, but it was too painful for all of them. The last time they'd had it had been Samantha's eighth birthday, only days before she disappeared.
"Samantha… I can make meatloaf, but I don't know how to make the meatloaf your talking about." he told her diplomatically, trying to avoid directly mentioning their Mother.
Samantha smiled at him, an expression so full of understanding it was painful to him. "It's okay, Fox. I helped Mommy make it a couple of times, I can show you."
He almost asked her how she could remember it after almost thirty years, but than stopped himself. It wasn't thirty years to her. To her, she had helped her Mother make the meal less than a week ago. Combined with her use of the honorific 'Mommy', something she had not done yet, Mulder felt himself trying to swallow a lump in his throat. "Okay, Samantha. Just tell me what we need for it and we'll make it."
Samantha immediately began rattling off the list of ingredients to him, and Mulder followed her around with the cart, mostly lost in thought. It occurred to him again, more strongly now, how very strange it must be for her, to go from her normal life and seemingly just an instant later find out that your parents have died, your brother is middle-aged, and the world you knew, everything and everyone, was long gone.
He watched her as she shopped, nodding or distractedly giving one or two word answers of agreement when she asked for something. He didn't understand how she was taking it so well. Everything he knew about psychology went against it. She should be angry and churlish, frustrated at least. He would expect any child in that type of situation to regress, to throw tantrums, to be excessively fearful and antisocial. So far, she wasn't showing any of that. If anything, she was more pleasant-tempered than he remembered. Mulling over the quandary, he didn't hear her question, and was jerked out of his reverie by her waving a box of fruit snacks in front of his face.
"Fah-ox! Can I get these, pleeaassseee?" Samantha asked, standing on tippy-toe and leaning forward so she could wave the box in his line of sight.
Mulder smiled at her antics, even though he knew he should probably be scolding her for them. "Sure, Samantha. But we better hurry up, or we're going to end up having dinner at midnight."
"Thank you, Fox!" Samantha said, dropping the box into the cart and spinning away. "We still have to get milk before we go. And we need cream and butter and sour cream for the mashed potatoes."
Mulder followed along behind her with the cart. Still thinking about her strange reaction to her life circumstance, he wondered if a person's reaction to something so impossible was even reasonably possible to gauge. He decided that Samantha was either an extremely resilient person, or that her joviality would wear thin over the next several weeks and let her inner turmoil show through.
True to her word, Samantha remembered how to make the meatloaf. She instructed her brother with mincing onion, fresh garlic, and mushrooms. She wanted to help mix it in with the meat, but Mulder didn't want her touching the raw meat, just in case she touched her face with unwashed hands. He let her pour the Worcestershire Sauce in and add the spices instead. It was almost 7:30 by the time they sat down to dinner. Samantha set the table, arranging the forks and knives on folded napkins next to their plates carefully.
"It's perfect, Fox!" Samantha said after taking her first bite, smacking her lips happily to show her appreciation.
Mulder had to agree that it tasted exactly the way he remembered their Mother's meatloaf tasting. It was a bite of nostalgia for him, bringing back long-gone memories. "Yeah, thanks to you knowing the recipe it is." he told her, winking. She giggled at him, and blushed slightly, pleased with the compliment.
"Can we watch Willie Wonka tonight?" Samantha asked, looking up from her food. Mulder was relatively certain that the puppy dog eyes she gave him with the question were mostly unintentional, but nonetheless effective. He had never particularly liked the movie, not since their parents had taken them to see it in the theater when they were 10 and 6, but it had immediately been one of Samantha's favorites. Consequently, he had bought the DVD for her at the mall today.
"Yeah, sure, if you want to." he said, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably. "You don't want to watch John Wayne?" Westerns had never been his favorite either, he preferred creature features and 50's sci-fi, but a John Wayne movie beat Willie Wonka at least.
Samantha shook her head. "Nope. I like John Wayne, but I wanna watch Willie Wonka more. It's my favorite!"
Mulder sighed inwardly to himself. It was going to be a long night. "Whatever you want, Kid. When you get done with your dinner go get washed up and ready for bed, than we'll watch your movie. And if you want, I'll make us some popcorn." He decided that the look of adoration on Samantha's face would have made sitting through the movie a thousand times in a row more than worthwhile.
Mulder cleaned up the dishes and wrapped up the leftovers. Hearing the water running in the shower, he tried to remember if Samantha had gotten baths or showers, and if his Mom had let her take them alone. Nervous, he picked up the house phone.
"Scully, it's me." he said, watching the closed bathroom door anxiously. "Yeah, everything's fine, but I was just wondering; do eight year olds get showers or baths?"
On the other end of the phone Scully breathed a sigh of relief, having excused herself from the dinner table and stepped into the hallway when the phone rang. She'd been afraid that something had gone wrong with Samantha somehow, and hadn't wanted to discuss it in front of her brother Bill and his wife Tara, nor their two small children, Matthew and Mary. She was at her Mother's visiting with them while they were in from California because they weren't sure if they would be able to get back again for Christmas. "It depends on the child, Mulder. I would suggest letting her decide to get whichever she's more comfortable with."
Mulder nodded, to himself because no one else was there to see the movement. "Right. That sounds good. And, I'm not, like, supposed to be in the room or making her keep the door open or anything, right? She's old enough I don't have to do that?" The tone of his voice was desperately pleading.
Scully smiled, and couldn't help a slight laugh. "I think she'll be fine, Mulder. As long as you don't hear any crashing sounds, I really wouldn't worry. Just yell in to her if you get nervous. Uh huh. Goodnight, Mulder." she hung up the phone and went back into the dinning room, apologizing. She could tell from the look on her brother's face that he'd been trying to hear as much of the conversation as possible.
"Mulder, huh? Still that same guy you've been chasing after for the last seven years now, right?" Bill asked her, bouncing his 9 month old daughter on his lap. "Chasing after little green men with, I mean."
Dana smiled mirthlessly at her brother, knowing what passed for a Bill Jr. witticism when she heard one. It was no secret that Bill thought she was desperately in love with Mulder and made a fool of herself on a regular basis trying to win his affections. "I still have the same partner at the Bureau." she answered, ignoring his jibe.
Bill nodded. "I heard you on the phone; what I want to know is who in their right mind is letting that man watch a child? I feel like I should be calling Child Protective Services." Bill smiled at his sister to try and take the edge off the comment, but even he could see that he was pushing her buttons.
"I'm really not at liberty to discuss that with you, Bill." Scully replied, her voice icy and her smile fake. "He's doing fine, he just needs to get used to having a child around." And with that she promptly changed the topic before Bill forced her to strangle him in front of their family.
Samantha's shower, or at least what her brother assumed was a shower due to the length of time the water was running, went by without a hitch, except for Mulder nervously hovering outside the bathroom door and asking if everything was alright three times.
By the time Samantha came out of the bedroom, wearing new lilac-colored satin pajamas and pink bunny slippers, Mulder had a bowl of popcorn made and the movie in the DVD player ready to go. She plopped down beside him on the couch and stole the popcorn.
As soon as the movie started Samantha was enamored. "Wow, Fox, look at it!" she cried. "It's like you can walk right into it!" Samantha walked over to the television and stuck her hand out, hesitantly tracing her fingers over it and yanking them back quickly, as though she really expected to fall into it. She turned back to her brother with a big smile.
Mulder returned Samantha's excited smile. "Yeah, TV graphics have really come a long way since the 70's." Wait'll she sees a computer and the internet. He thought to himself.
The novelty of the movie didn't wear off, but eventually Samantha sat back down on the couch next to her brother. Before the end of the movie she was sound asleep, her head resting on her brother's leg.
Mulder turned the television off, than picked his sister up off the couch to carry her into the bedroom instead of waking her up. Samantha wrapped her arms around his neck in her sleep. He tucked her into the bed and tucked Arthur under her arm. He paused for a moment, watching her, than kissed her forehead gently. "Goodnight, Samantha." he whispered. "I love you."
As he turned to walk out of the room he heard his sister stir. "Fox?" she asked sleepily.
Mulder turned around in the doorway. "Yeah, Samantha?"
"Can I have a puppy?" the small voice asks.
Mulder smiled. Samantha had always loved animals, had been pestering their parents for a puppy or a kitten as soon as she could talk. Their Mother would never have allowed an animal in her home, however. "I'm sorry, Samantha. They don't allow dogs in my building here."
"Oh." Her voice was disappointed, and Mulder found himself wondering how hard it would be to move to a different apartment, maybe even a house. "Can I have a kitten?" she asked hopefully, clearly more awake now.
Mulder smiled. "We'll see. Maybe you should ask Santa what he thinks." He shut the door gently and walked back into the living room. Laying down on the couch, Mulder drifted off to sleep with a smile of contentment on his face for the first time in years.