The orthodontist appointment was a whirlwind of impressions for the 13-year-old triplets. As they clinked their shiny new braces and tested out their temporary lisps in the backseat of the car, the family made their next stop at an optometrist to pick out reading glasses.
The girls approached the rows of frames with enthusiasm, each trying on pair after pair. Beatrice grabbed a sleek black frame, giving herself a serious look in the mirror. "I look like a lawyer!"
Sabrina, on the other hand, tried on bright red glasses. "How do I look, Dad?"
"Like you just stole my job at The Lone Gunman," Mulder joked, adjusting her frames slightly.
Joanna found a pair of cat-eye glasses and grinned mischievously. "Now I'm a 1950s librarian. 'No talking in the library!'" she teased, wagging her finger.
Scully stood nearby, watching the lively energy with a soft smile. As the triplets debated which frames suited them best, she thought back to her own childhood—the first time she got braces and reading glasses. It had been a self-conscious time for her, one where she felt awkward and unsure. Yet here were her daughters, turning what could have been a moment of insecurity into an exciting, bonding experience.
Once everyone had made their choices, they headed back to the car. The girls were busy comparing their glasses in the backseat when Scully murmured to Mulder, "It's strange, you know. They're the exact age I was when I got my braces and glasses. The parallels are uncanny sometimes."
Mulder smirked, his voice low and teasing. "You heard the Cigarette Smoking Man. They're your clones."
Scully rolled her eyes but couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped her. "And yet... I can't help but feel a little proud of them. They're handling it so much better than I ever did."
Mulder glanced at the rearview mirror, watching the triplets laugh together. Then, with a playful grin, he said, "Well, I'm just glad the Syndicate is footing the bill for all this orthodontic and optometric work. It's nice to have some perks from their bizarre science experiments."
Scully arched an eyebrow, her expression shifting to thoughtful. "That is odd," she admitted. "They cover everything—braces, glasses, even school fees. It's like they're... invested in the girls' lives in a way that doesn't make sense."
Mulder's grin faded slightly as he considered her words. "I guess even shadowy conspiracies can feel a sense of obligation. Or guilt."
Scully nodded, though her mind seemed far away. "It's something to think about," she murmured.
The conversation paused as the girls erupted into laughter in the backseat. Mulder gave Scully a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand. "Whatever their motives, they can't take this away from us. They're our kids, Dana. No matter what."
Scully looked at him and smiled, her heart lighter as she watched the triplets argue over whose glasses looked best. "They really are," she agreed softly.