As the next evening unfolded, the warm hues of the setting sun bathed the room in a soft glow. Mulder and Scully were preparing for the evening ahead, with the distant sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from other guests filtering in from outside. Inside their room at the inn, however, Scully stood over her open suitcase, her brow furrowed in frustration.

"I have nothing to wear for this occasion," she muttered, rifling through her belongings and tossing aside various articles of clothing. "And what is appropriate for the occasion makes me look fat."

Mulder, casually leaning against the doorframe, smirked at her exasperation. "It's always the same with you girls, isn't it?" he teased, unable to resist a playful jab. "And it's not fat, it's a growing baby."

Scully shot him a glance that was half-amused, half-irritated, her eyes narrowing slightly, but before she could respond, Mulder took a step forward. He walked around the bed, reaching down into the nightstand and pulling out a neatly folded bag.

"I may have a solution," he said, offering her the bag with a knowing smile. "You might have some conflicting feelings about this, but if you decide to wear it tonight, you'll look stunning."

Scully's curiosity piqued as she took the bag from him, unfolding the tissue paper carefully. Her breath caught when she saw what was inside—the silky green maternity dress she had admired at the boutique, alongside a delicate beige knit scarf with sleeves. Her fingers brushed lightly over the soft fabric, and she glanced back at Mulder, surprise evident in her expression.

"You shouldn't have," she said softly, her eyes flicking to his. "This must have been expensive."

Mulder shrugged, his nonchalance hiding his obvious pleasure at her reaction. "It's getting chilly in the evenings, and I thought you'd like the scarf," he said, watching her carefully. "Besides, you deserve to feel comfortable."

Scully hesitated only briefly before slipping into the dress, pulling it over her shoulders. She turned to face the mirror, smoothing the fabric over her growing bump. Mulder watched her, a proud smile tugging at his lips as he admired the way the dress hugged her form. A small flicker of disappointment crossed his face when he realized the dress didn't have a zipper he could help with—a detail he'd secretly been looking forward to.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice filled with warmth, his eyes never leaving her reflection.

Scully adjusted the scarf, letting it drape gracefully over her shoulders, and turned fully to face him. For the first time in what felt like days, she allowed herself a small, genuine smile. "Thank you, Mulder," she murmured, her tone soft and filled with gratitude.

Mulder stepped closer, his hands resting gently on her arms, his gaze filled with affection. "You're welcome," he whispered, his voice low. "Ready to make an entrance?"

Scully let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Before they left the room, Mulder walked over to the safe. He pulled out his gun and carefully placed it inside, closing the door with a soft click. Then, with a thoughtful glance at his phone, he placed it on the table by the door, deciding he wouldn't need either that night.

"I think we're all set," Mulder said, turning back to Scully, offering his arm. "Let's enjoy the night, just the two of us."

Scully took his arm, and together they walked out, ready for the evening ahead.

At the reunion, the room buzzed with laughter and conversation. Mulder looked around, a faintly bewildered expression crossing his face as he was greeted warmly by people he couldn't quite place.

"I swear, I don't know half these people," Mulder muttered under his breath.

Scully, standing beside him with an amused smile, glanced around at the chattering crowd. "They all seem to know you though," she teased lightly. "Look, there's Lorelai. You know her."

Mulder smirked and shook his head slightly. "I still can't believe she convinced you to drink juice from a wine glass just so people would be scandalized."

Scully chuckled softly, remembering how Lorelai had hoped it would create more of a stir. But her belly wasn't quite showing enough to be unmistakably pregnant yet. The moment had fizzled, but she didn't mind. She began humming along to the familiar tune playing in the background. "I love this song," she mused quietly.

Mulder turned to her, his eyes softening. He extended his arm with a playful bow. "Then may I have this dance?"

Scully's smile widened as she took his hand, her heart warming at his playful gesture. "You may," she replied, letting him guide her toward the dance floor.

The music in the dimly lit hall was a soft, steady rhythm, perfect for slow dancing. Mulder held Scully close as they swayed gently in the middle of the floor, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter, but for Mulder, the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

Scully rested her head on his shoulder, her body relaxed in his arms. They had never danced like this before, and for a moment, everything felt simple, just the rhythm of their bodies moving together in sync with the music.

But then, suddenly, Scully stiffened. Her hands shot to her belly, and Mulder immediately felt the change in her posture.

"Scully? What's wrong?" Mulder asked, concern lacing his voice as he stopped their gentle sway.

Scully didn't answer right away. Instead, a slow smile spread across her face, her eyes lighting up with something Mulder hadn't seen in a while—pure joy. Without a word, she reached for his hands, guiding them to rest on her belly.

At first, Mulder wasn't sure what she wanted him to feel. There wasn't much to notice yet, just the familiar warmth of her skin beneath her dress. But then, he felt it—an indescribable sense of life, a connection he couldn't quite explain. His breath caught in his throat as the realization hit him.

"Wow…" he whispered, awe filling his voice as the significance of the moment sank in. "This is amazing."

Scully nodded, her smile widening as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "It is," she whispered back, her hands resting over his. "Our little miracle."

They stayed like that for a long moment, the world around them fading away as they absorbed the quiet wonder of the baby growing inside her. Mulder pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, overcome with emotion.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Mulder murmured, his voice thick with gratitude.

Scully leaned into him, her voice soft but steady. "I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else."

Mulder's phone sat on the small wooden table in the inn's cozy room, vibrating softly against the surface as it rang. The screen lit up with the name "Skinner," but the room was empty, the call going unanswered.

After a few moments, the ringing stopped, replaced by the familiar tone indicating a voicemail.

Skinner's voice came through, low and urgent: "It's Skinner. Call me back when you get this. Or better, take Scully to the nearest police station. Spender escaped during transport. He's been without a trace since 11 this morning."

As Mulder and Scully walked across the schoolyard, the night air cool against their faces, they chatted softly, their exhaustion from the long evening evident but their spirits still light. The reunion had been a whirlwind of old faces and endless small talk, and now, they were enjoying the quiet together.

Then, out of nowhere, a figure emerged from the shadows. Spender.

Mulder's body tensed instinctively, stepping in front of Scully as if by reflex. His eyes narrowed, protective as always, as he shielded her from the man now standing in front of them.

"Baby girl," Spender drawled, a twisted smile creeping across his face. "I'll forgive you for sleeping with this loser. I'll even forgive you for getting yourself knocked up by this clown."

Mulder's jaw clenched, but he didn't move, only positioning himself more squarely between Spender and Scully.

Spender continued, his voice dripping with venom. "I am so glad I got to investigate that train wreck. It hadn't anything to do with terrorism, so it was completely uninteresting for my unit, but for me, it was a revelation. I finally found you when I wasn't even looking. I'm here now to be with you. You understand that I had to sleep with Diana to take revenge on you for fooling with this one." His eyes darted to Mulder with a sneer. "She liked it rough. She didn't cry like you used to."

Mulder, without turning his head, murmured over his shoulder to Scully, his voice steady. "Don't listen to him, Scully."

But Spender wasn't done. "She insisted on wearing those high heels. She was taller with those than I am. I had to discipline her. You understand, baby girl, don't you?"

Suddenly, Spender's hand shot out toward Scully, but before it could reach her, Mulder reacted instinctively. He shoved Spender back with force, sending him stumbling. As Spender regained his balance, his hand slipped into his jacket, emerging with a gun, the steel glinting in the dim light. His eyes burned with bitter rage. "You can have my father's admiration or my wife, but you can't have both," Spender hissed.

Without a beat, Mulder's voice cut through the tension, calm yet biting. "I don't give a damn about your father's admiration. Keep it. I'll take your wife, though. Let's face it—you can't handle her. She deserves better than this."

Spender's face twisted with frustration, his grip tightening on the gun. "It's always Mulder, isn't it? Mulder did this, Mulder did that. All the time. Do you know what it's like to live in your shadow?" His voice cracked with years of pent-up resentment. "All my life, I've tried to get him to acknowledge me. Tried to prove I was worth something to him. And what does he say? 'Too bad Mulder isn't on our side. Mulder would be a great asset to our group.'"

Spender's hand shook slightly, his bitterness radiating off him in waves. "You've always been the one in his eyes. I worked for everything, and it's never enough. But you? You're the one he wanted."

Mulder stepped forward, his body deliberately blocking Scully from Spender's line of sight. "It's not about his approval. You're chasing something you'll never get, and in the process, you've lost yourself. Whatever admiration you think you're fighting for—it's not worth the damage you've caused."

Spender's eyes flickered with desperation, torn between his anger and the hollow realization of Mulder's words. His father's approval had become an obsession, one that consumed everything—including his marriage.

Mulder took another step closer, his voice steady. "It's over, Spender. Put the gun down. This won't give you what you're looking for."

Spender's eyes narrowed, the madness of his desperation taking over. His voice trembled with the weight of his twisted logic. "If I can't have my father's admiration, I'll have my wife back. Hurting you didn't break you the way I thought it would, but I am positive that losing her will break you, Mulder. It'll drive you insane, and that'll be my chance—my way to finally move up in my father's eyes."

Before Mulder could even respond, the gun fired.

The sound was sharp, a violent crack that seemed to freeze time for a moment. The bullet tore through Mulder's chest, just below his collarbone, and he went down hard, collapsing to the ground with a painful thud.

"Mulder!" Scully's scream echoed through the night as she dropped beside him, her hands immediately pressing against the wound, trying to stem the blood that began to flow quickly from the impact site. Panic surged through her, but her training kicked in, her mind racing as she assessed the damage.

Mulder's face was pale, his breath coming in short, labored gasps. He tried to speak, but the pain overwhelmed him, his eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay conscious. His hand weakly reached out, brushing Scully's arm, his voice barely a rasp, "Scully…"

"Shh, don't talk," she whispered, her voice trembling, but she forced herself to remain calm. "I've got you, Mulder. Stay with me, okay? Stay with me."

As Scully knelt beside Mulder, desperately trying to press her hands against the wound, she felt an arm snake around her waist. She barely had time to react before she was yanked to her feet, her body dragged away from Mulder's side. The warmth of his blood still clung to her fingers as she twisted in the iron grip of Spender.

"I'm here now, baby girl," Spender whispered, his breath hot against her ear as he held her tight. "He won't stand between us anymore."

The words sent a surge of fury through Scully, stronger than any fear or pain she had felt in that moment. Her pulse raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins, her mind refusing to let go of the image of Mulder lying on the ground, bleeding.

In a split second, she acted. With a force she didn't know she possessed, Scully turned around in Spender's embrace and drove her knee into his groin. The motion was swift, precise, and brutal. He let out a strangled cry, his grip on her loosening as he doubled over in pain.

In that brief window of opportunity, Scully's training and instincts took over. Her hand darted for the gun Spender had dropped in his moment of weakness. Without thinking, her fingers closed around the handle, her body moving on pure survival instinct.

Spender's eyes widened, his face twisted with rage as he tried to lunge for her, but it was too late. Scully fired. The shot rang out in the night, echoing in the empty schoolyard. Spender stumbled backward, a dark stain spreading across his chest. But it wasn't enough.

Scully's hand shook as she pulled the trigger again. And again.

Each shot sent another jolt through her, a release of the pent-up fear, rage, and trauma that had built up inside her over the years. She fired until the gun clicked, until there were no more bullets left, until Spender's lifeless body collapsed to the ground in front of her.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling as she stood over him, the weight of everything crashing down on her all at once. The gun slipped from her hands, clattering onto the pavement.

"Scully…"

Mulder's voice, weak but determined, cut through the fog in her mind. She turned immediately, rushing back to his side, her hands shaking as she knelt beside him again.

"Mulder, I'm here," she whispered, her voice breaking as she pressed down on his wound again, tears streaming down her face. "I'm here. Just hold on. Help is coming."

Mulder reached out, his hand finding hers, gripping it as tightly as he could despite the pain. "I'm… okay… Scully," he managed to rasp, his voice strained but steady.

Scully nodded, trying to hold back the sob that threatened to escape. "Don't you dare leave me, Mulder. Not now. Not ever."

And as the sound of approaching sirens filled the air, Scully held onto him, refusing to let go.