As the familiar streets of Georgetown came into view, Scully felt her stomach tighten. The dim glow of the streetlights highlighted the clean, orderly façades of the houses, a sharp contrast to the chaos in her mind. She turned in her seat, glancing at the sleeping babies bundled snugly in their carriers. Their tiny chests rose and fell in unison, blissfully unaware of the storm their arrival had unleashed.

She turned back to Mulder, her voice barely above a whisper. "How am I going to do this, Mulder? Changing those diapers, feeding them all at the same time, taking them out for walks—" She let out a shaky breath. "Where can I even get a pram for triplets?"

Mulder's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pulled onto her street, his jaw working silently as he searched for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but resolute. "I don't know, Scully. I don't know any of this. But I'll do what I can to help you. I promise."

Scully turned once more to look at him, her gaze searching his face. She saw no trace of the usual glib remarks or sardonic humor—just quiet determination. She felt a lump rise in her throat, a strange mix of gratitude and vulnerability she wasn't used to feeling.

"I'm not sure I can do this," she admitted, her voice breaking.

Mulder didn't hesitate, his tone steady and filled with quiet confidence. "You're already doing it, Scully," he said, turning to fully face her. "It all started with you, in that facility. You heard them crying, even when I didn't. And with the military on our heels, you still didn't hesitate. You chose them."

Scully swallowed hard, her chest tightening as his words hit her.

"You are already there for them," Mulder continued, his voice softening. "And now, you've got me—every step of the way. And Byers, Frohike, and Langly too, whether you like it or not."

Despite herself, Scully let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "That's not exactly reassuring."

Mulder turned to her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe not. But it's what you've got."

He stepped out of the car, moving quickly to the passenger side to help her. Together, they carefully lifted the baby carriers from the van, the weight of each one a stark reminder of how much their lives had changed in a single day.

As they entered the building, the soft creak of the door closing behind them was quickly drowned out by the murmur of voices coming from Scully's apartment. She froze mid-step, her head snapping toward the faint sound.

Mulder, instantly on alert, shifted the baby carrier in his hand and reached for his gun with the other. He motioned for her to stay behind him, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the muffled voices.

"…I'm telling you, the flat end goes up! Why would the rounded end go at the top?"

"Because it's ergonomic, genius! You don't want a baby's head crammed into a flat edge!"

"Oh, so you're an expert on babies now?"

Mulder paused, his grip on his gun loosening slightly. His lips twitched into an amused smirk as he glanced back at Scully. "Frohike and the boys," he muttered.

Scully exhaled, a mix of relief and exasperation washing over her. "Of course it's them," she said, her tone wry.

Mulder opened the door, and they stepped inside to chaos. Her once-pristine living room was now cluttered with baby supplies in triplicate. Three bassinets, half-assembled, were scattered across the floor, surrounded by bags of diapers, stacks of tiny clothes, and a jumble of toys. The kitchen was no better—there were boxes of baby formula, bottles soaking in the sink, and what looked like a pile of instructions discarded on the counter.

In the center of it all stood Frohike, Langly, and Byers, each holding a piece of bassinet and gesturing emphatically.

"I'm telling you, this screw goes here!" Frohike insisted, waving a tiny wrench.

"No, it doesn't!" Langly shot back. "That's for the rocking mechanism!"

Byers sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We should have just followed the manual…"

The argument screeched to a halt as all three men noticed Mulder and Scully standing in the doorway, each holding at least one baby carrier.

"Oh," Frohike said, quickly straightening and dropping the wrench. "You're back."

Langly adjusted his glasses, looking sheepish. "We, uh, thought we'd get a head start."

Byers cleared his throat, gesturing toward the mountain of supplies. "We figured you'd need the essentials."

Scully stared at the scene, her mouth slightly open as she took in the clutter and the obvious effort the three men had put into preparing for the babies. For a moment, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Mulder grinned, stepping further into the apartment. "Well, Scully," he said, setting the baby carrier down on the couch, "I think we've just found your A-team."

Frohike puffed out his chest. "Damn right. These kids are going to have the best setup this side of Georgetown."

Scully set her carriers down next to Mulder's, rubbing her temples as she surveyed the room. "And what exactly is the plan once the bassinets are put together?"

The three men exchanged nervous glances.

"Uh," Langly began, scratching the back of his neck. "Step two is kind of a work in progress."

Mulder clapped a hand on Frohike's shoulder. "Don't worry, Scully. They've got this. After all, they've already mastered alien cover-ups and top-level hacking. How hard could raising babies be?"

Scully groaned, moving to clear a space on the couch as Mulder handed her a freshly sleeping baby. "I think I preferred the aliens," she muttered.

But as chaotic as it all was, Scully couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude. Her kitchen and living room may have been overrun with baby supplies and eccentric helpers, but for the first time, it felt like she wasn't doing this alone.

Scully carefully settled the babies in her bedroom, laying them side by side on the bed for now. She tucked rolled-up blankets on either side of them to keep them snug, hoping they'd stay asleep just a little longer before the next feeding. Standing back, she allowed herself a rare moment to simply watch them. Their tiny faces were serene, their soft breaths filling the quiet room. She exhaled, a knot of anxiety loosening slightly in her chest.

When she returned to the living room, the scene was a mix of chaos and unexpected order. Mulder was leaning against the counter, phone pressed to his ear.

"Yeah, one large pepperoni, one veggie, and... got anything good for picky hackers? Just cheese? Perfect. And a couple of two-liter sodas. Thanks." He hung up, catching Scully's eye as he pocketed his phone. "Dinner's handled."

Across the room, Frohike was crouched next to the first fully assembled bassinet, giving it a firm shake. "Seems solid," he declared, standing back and dusting his hands off. "The Swedish really know their baby furniture."

Langly and Byers were standing by the whiteboard they'd dragged in from God-knows-where, covered in a rough floor plan of Scully's apartment. Langly gestured with a marker as he explained. "We were thinking, if we disassembled the furniture in your guest bedroom and put it into storage, there'd be enough space for the bassinets, a closet, and a changing table."

"Maybe even a rocking chair," Byers added, nodding thoughtfully. "You know. For you, Mama."

Scully blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected practicality of their plan. "You... really thought this through," she said, her voice soft with surprise.

Frohike grinned. "Of course we did. These kids deserve the best. And so do you."

Langly smirked. "And we like a good project. Keeps the FBI off our trail."

Scully couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her, shaking her head. For the first time since this whirlwind began, she felt a flicker of hope. Her apartment was cluttered with baby supplies, her bedroom temporarily hijacked, and her living room filled with some of the most eccentric men she'd ever met.

But as she looked around, she realized that maybe—just maybe—the situation wasn't as dire as it had seemed just hours ago. She wasn't alone in this.

Mulder crossed the room to her, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "See? You've got a whole team of specialists. Bassinet engineers, tactical floor planners, pizza delivery coordinators... What more could you ask for?"

Scully gave him a look that was somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. "Don't push your luck, Mulder."

He leaned in closer, his tone softening. "You're gonna be okay, Scully. They're not just your kids—they're ours now. And we'll figure it out."

The doorbell rang, the chime loud enough to pierce the relative calm of the apartment. Almost immediately, the soft coos and sighs from the bedroom escalated into a full chorus of cries.

Mulder shot Scully a look as he made his way to the door. "Timing's impeccable, as always."

"I'll get the bottles ready," Scully muttered, already moving toward the kitchen.

By the time Mulder returned with the pizza boxes, the living room was in full-blown chaos again. Frohike, Langly, and Byers were trying to soothe the babies, whose cries only seemed to grow louder.

"Here," Scully called from the kitchen, holding up the freshly prepared bottles. "Let's feed them before they really get going."

Byers gently picked up one of the babies and accepted a bottle from Scully, settling into the newly assembled rocking chair. Langly grabbed another baby and awkwardly perched on the couch, while Mulder took the third and sat cross-legged on the floor.

Scully leaned against the counter, momentarily stunned by the sight of the three men bottle-feeding her children. The absurdity of it struck her first—the Lone Gunmen and Mulder, her unlikely allies, looking more like an impromptu daycare crew than conspiratorial masterminds. But then something else crept in: a deep, aching gratitude.

Byers noticed her hesitation first. He stood and crossed the room, holding the baby out to her. "Here," he said softly. "Mama's honors."

Scully hesitated for a moment, then took the baby into her arms, her hands instinctively cradling the small body. She sank into the chair Byers had vacated, staring down at the baby's tiny face as it latched onto the bottle.

"You're a natural, Scully," Mulder said, glancing at her with a faint smile, the baby in his arms now contentedly sucking on its bottle.

"Sure she is," Frohike chimed in from his spot near the bassinets. He gave a mock-serious look around the room. "We could call this one Melvina," he said, pointing to the baby Scully held. "And that one Ricarda," he added, gesturing toward Langly's charge. "And that one Joanna."

Scully raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Melvina?"

Frohike shrugged. "It's a classic."

Mulder smirked but then turned serious, glancing at the baby in his arms. "There's really nothing in their paperwork? I mean, they're six weeks old. No names at all?"

Scully shook her head. "Not a thing. The court only issued the birth certificates this morning. There are no records about their birth. I was thinking…" She trailed off, glancing down at the baby she was feeding. "Maybe… Beatrice for this one." She pointed to the baby in her arms.

"Beatrice," Mulder repeated, nodding thoughtfully. "I like it."

"And Sabrina for that one," she added, nodding toward the baby Mulder was holding.

"Sabrina," Mulder said with a small smile, looking down at the baby. "Seems fitting."

Scully hesitated again, then glanced at the third baby in Langly's arms. "And, well… Joanna is actually nice."

Frohike grinned. "I told you. Classic."

Scully allowed herself a small smile as she looked around the room. Her children—Beatrice, Sabrina, and Joanna—were surrounded by a ragtag team of men who, despite their quirks and eccentricities, were proving to be exactly the kind of support she needed.

With the babies finally fed, changed, and sound asleep in their new bassinets, the apartment fell into a peaceful quiet. The Gunmen stood in the hallway, their exhaustion showing but still buzzing with their unique brand of enthusiasm.

Langly stretched and grinned. "We'll be back tomorrow, Scully. Help you arrange the furniture in the nursery, check what's still missing, rename one of them Ricarda—"

"Langly…" Scully warned, but her tone lacked the sharpness it usually held.

He smirked. "You know, the little things."

Frohike adjusted his coat, glancing back toward the guest bedroom with a rare softness in his expression. "You're doing good, Mama. We'll get it all figured out."

Scully opened her mouth to reply, but to her own surprise, the words wouldn't come. Suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of emotion, she stepped forward and hugged Frohike tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice catching slightly.

Frohike froze for a moment, then patted her back awkwardly. "Uh, anytime, Scully. Anytime."

She turned to Byers next, who accepted the hug with quiet grace. "You really saved me tonight," she murmured.

He smiled softly. "You're stronger than you think, Scully. We just gave you a little nudge."

Finally, she embraced Langly, who blinked in surprise before awkwardly returning the gesture. "This doesn't mean I'm not renaming one of them," he quipped.

Scully laughed softly through her tears and pulled back. "I mean it. I wouldn't even know where to start without you three. Thank you."

The Gunmen exchanged sheepish glances before shuffling out the door, leaving Mulder and Scully standing in the quiet apartment.

Mulder leaned against the counter, watching her carefully. "Well," he said lightly, "that was a touching moment. You're making me jealous."

Scully turned to him, her exhaustion evident but softened by a small smile. "You don't need a hug, Mulder. We both know you're not going anywhere until this case is solved."

He grinned, pushing off the counter and walking toward her. "Probably not. You know though I'm not just here solve a case, right?"

For a moment, they simply stood there, the weight of the day settling in. Mulder reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Scully let out a long, shaky breath. "I don't know. I mean… I'm still terrified, Mulder. But I don't feel so… lost anymore."

"You're not," he said quietly. "I'm here. And so are they." He gestured toward the door where the Gunmen had just left. "We've got your back, Scully. Always."

She nodded, her throat tightening again. "I don't know what I did to deserve all of you."

Mulder's expression softened, his voice steady. "You deserve more than you realize, Scully."

For the first time in what felt like days, she felt a faint sense of peace. She looked at Mulder, grateful beyond words, and gestured toward the couch. "Stay. I could use the company."

Mulder nodded without hesitation. "I wasn't planning on leaving."

And as the apartment settled into its newfound stillness, the two of them sat side by side, quietly planning the next step in their shared journey.

They sat together on the couch in the dimly lit living room, the muffled sounds of the city outside blending with the soft hum of the baby monitor. Neither dared to move, as though the tiniest sound might wake the peacefully sleeping triplets.

Scully quietly nibbled on a slice of leftover pizza while Mulder leaned back, his voice low in a near-whisper. "I thought you'd be more of a traditionalist. Or conservative, maybe."

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"The babies' names," he clarified, tilting his head toward her with a slight grin.

"You don't like them?", Scully asked with a tinge of disappointment.

"I like them, don't get me wrong. I just thought… I don't know, you'd name them after your sister, or your mother," Mulder continued.

Scully stilled for a moment, setting the crust of her pizza down on the plate in her lap. "I wouldn't want to remember my sister every time I call my child," she said softly, her voice heavy with meaning.

Mulder nodded slowly, his expression shifting to something more somber. "That makes sense. But what about your mother? Or your grandmother? That kind of thing."

She considered it for a moment, her gaze drifting to the baby monitor on the coffee table. "That's the traditional thing to do," she admitted. "But it's also tradition to get married and settled before you have children. And let's face it, Mulder—these three weren't exactly brought into the world traditionally."

He smiled at that, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Fair point."

Scully glanced at him, her lips curving into a small smile. "They're not just an extension of me or my family, Mulder. They deserve their own identities. Their own story. I don't want them living under the shadow of someone else's name."

He looked at her for a long moment, nodding. "I get it. I like your way of thinking here, Scully."

She tilted her head, her smile softening. "You do?"

"Yeah," he said simply. "It's… uniquely you."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the day finally easing a little. Scully leaned back, brushing her fingers over the edge of the plate in her lap. "You're not half-bad at this, you know."

"At what?" Mulder asked, raising an eyebrow.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable for a moment before she spoke. "Being here. For me. For them."

Mulder's face softened, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been the reason I stayed, Scully. That hasn't changed."

She didn't reply, but her small, grateful smile said more than words ever could.

Scully broke the silence, her voice soft and hesitant. "What's going to happen to us?"

Mulder didn't immediately catch her meaning. He sat up slightly, his brow furrowed as he processed the question. "Well, you're on parental leave," he began, speaking practically. "You'll deal with the paperwork, and I'll talk to Skinner. I mean, I worked without a partner before you were assigned to the X-Files. Someone has to investigate how the triplets came into this world, who used your ova to conceive them…"

He trailed off, glancing at her, but her expression didn't change.

"And," he added more cautiously, "who their father is."

A moment of silence hung between them, the weight of his last words pressing down heavily. Mulder looked away, staring at the pizza box on the coffee table as if it might provide answers.

Scully finally broke the quiet. "That's not what I meant."

Her words were quiet but firm, and they landed with precision. Mulder looked at her again, the gears in his head turning. It was only now, as he took in the slight tension in her jaw, the way her fingers lightly gripped the edge of her plate, that it dawned on him what she was really asking.

She wasn't talking about the triplets or their mysterious origins.

She was talking about them.

His mind flashed back to that night in his hallway, their breath mingling, the tentative kiss that had quickly become something more… until the bee had stolen the moment and changed their trajectory.

Mulder shifted slightly, his voice softening as he chose his words carefully. "Scully…"

She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his face for something, though she didn't say anything.

"I don't know what's going to happen," he admitted, his honesty raw. "But I know what I want to happen. For us."

Her breath caught slightly, but she didn't interrupt.

He leaned in just a little, his voice dropping lower. "You and I… We've been through so much together. We've seen the worst the world has to offer, but we've also… we've found each other in the middle of it. And that means something, doesn't it?"

Scully swallowed hard, her gaze dropping for a moment before returning to his. "It does," she said softly.

He hesitated for a second, then reached out, his fingers brushing hers where they rested on her lap. "We'll figure this out, Scully. One step at a time. Like everything else."

Mulder leaned back against the couch, watching Scully carefully. "Have you talked to your mother about this?"

Scully shook her head, letting out a small sigh. "No. She's travelling with her church group. Six weeks through Poland, retracing John Paul II's life, and then Lourdes and Rome. I'll let her enjoy it and… surprise her when she comes back."

Mulder nodded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Solid plan."

Scully gave him a weary smile but then frowned as a new thought struck her. "I promised I'd pick her and her neighbor up from the airport when they return. But there won't be any space for them in my car. There's barely enough for me and the girls as it is. And I have to return the minivan—"

Her words came faster now, her voice rising slightly as her mind raced.

Mulder reached over and lightly touched her arm, his steady voice cutting through her growing panic. "Scully, it's fine. I'll return the minivan tomorrow. And when your mom comes back in…" He paused, glancing at her expectantly.

"Five weeks," she said, her voice quieter now.

"Five weeks," he repeated with a small nod. "I can pick her up from the airport. Or," he added with a slight shrug, "I'll babysit, and you can pick her up. We'll figure it out."

Scully took a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She looked at him with gratitude, a soft smile forming on her lips. "You make it sound so simple."

Mulder returned her smile, his voice warm. "Because it is, Scully. One problem at a time. We've got this."