This piece is the prequel to my untitled series, and it's also untitled. I'm sorry about that. However, this piece also works as a stand-alone, so if you only read this, don't worry, you won't get lost. Again, any suggestions for a title will be greatly appreciated. Thanks again for reading!!!
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and the X-Files, as well as various other characters, all belong to 1013 Productions and Chris Carter. Don't sue me, because all you'll end up with is a finisky computer and some useless stuff. Unless Mr. Carter has returned to college. : )
Prequel to Untitled Series
Shit. Shit...SHIT. I stare at the two little lines in utter disbelief. How could this happen? How? There is no logical, rational way that I could be...oh God, I can’t even think the word...I mean, I’ve suspected this for almost two weeks, but I couldn’t bring myself to take a test, or even try to believe...
Don’t get me wrong- this is something I thought I would never get the chance to have, and it took a really long time for me, but I resigned myself to that fact. Now it seems that I am being given my chance, after all. But how do I tell my partner that we’re going to be parents? We only slept together once, but, as the old adage goes, once is all it takes, even though I’m clinically infertile. We were investigating a murder in a sleepy little North Dakota town, and since the case was done quickly, we had some time to ourselves. The night before we left, we got to talking over some wine, and that was that. One kiss from him and I was gone. Our relationship has undergone serious changes since that night. Though still as serious and deep as it has always been on the inside, our friendship now has a cool, professional exterior that it has always seemed to lack. We’ve never spoken about what happened, and it seems that we both have deemed it a mistake, although I will never truly see it that way, especially now. In fact, we rarely speak to each other at all, except about business. And we can’t even look each other in the eye. At first, all I wanted was some acknowledgment about what we’ve done. Now I take his cue and ignore the fact that we let it happen at all. But it’s no longer acceptable to ignore this, if it ever was. I sit down with my head in my hands and try to think it all through.
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One Week Later
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Basement Office
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Looking through this boring new case file, I feel a sudden wave of nausea overtake me. I drop the file and make a mad dash for the ladies room. I’m getting all too used to this morning sickness, but it’s never happened at work before, or in the afternoon, for that matter. As I rush by, Mulder actually looks up from his copy of the file.
I get to the bathroom in time, but only just. As I heave up my lunch until there is nothing left in my stomach, my mind reels. I haven’t told him yet, and I know I have to soon, but I haven’t been able to find a way. I’m afraid that he won’t be supportive, and I’m afraid that our friendship is over with, though I haven’t let *that* fear bother me until recently.
I go to the sink and rinse my mouth out, then look myself over to make sure I’m still presentable. I slowly make my way back to the office, which has become increasingly hard to work in, and find Mulder standing in the hallway, looking as if he might actually be getting ready to follow me.
“You okay?” He asks, a concerned frown furrowing his brow.
“Yeah. I think I have a touch of flu or something...” *or something...* The words echo in my head.
He looks as if he doesn’t really believe me, but what can I say? I’m not ready to tell him yet, and besides, how would he ever be able to guess what’s really wrong?
“Well...okay...” he replies.
I walk past him, and suddenly, he grabs my hand and spins me around to face him.
“Scully...I...”
“What is it, Mulder?”
“I...I think we need to talk.”
“What is there to talk about?”
“Dammit, Scully...you know what we need to talk about.”
Frustration clouds his face. Of course I know, but a little part of me wants to royally piss him off. He shoves his hands in his pockets and studies my face. “How about it. Dinner tonight?”
I sigh and look down. “I guess you’re right. Dinner sounds fine.”
We make plans to meet at a nearby restaurant around 8. I excuse myself and leave the office for the evening. I feel even more sick to my stomach as I realize that I must tell him tonight. Things are moving far beyond my control, and I really hate that...
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Napoli’s Italian Restaurant
Washington, D.C.
8 PM
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I pull into a parking space and cut the engine. My stomach is doing flips and I feel like maybe I should just turn around and leave. Why are we even discussing this in a restaurant? I don’t want all these other people hearing what we have to say. I heave a great sigh, get out of the car, lock up, and head inside.
As I enter this tiny place, I wonder what, exactly, made Mulder choose it. Then I begin to notice the small details...it looks almost like an old-fashioned Italian family’s dining room, with nice, homey touches here and there, low lighting, and light music playing in the background. There is an immediate aura of calm as I walk towards the desk. I go to the host and tell him that I am meeting Mulder. He gives me a nod and leads me off to a small, private dining area. Mulder is already here, waiting for me, and I sit down across from him.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I offer him a small, nervous smile, and feel rewarded when I get one in return.
The waiter hands me a menu and offers the wine list, but I decline that, and since I already know what I can and can’t eat lately, I ask Mulder if he knows what he wants and he nods. I tell the waiter that we’re ready to order. After he takes down what we want, he leaves us alone in the small, candle-lit room to begin our talk.
He sighs and leans forward, rubbing his temples. “I don’t even know where we should begin.”
“Well...how about this? Why’d we let it happen?” That's right, Dana. Get right to the point...
He looks up sharply, eyes flashing, and I can see that it must have come out sounding rather harsh, so I take a deep breath, and try again.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.” He nods, so I continue. “What I mean is, why did it happen? Was it pure boredom? Was there something else? Why?”
“I don’t know, Scully. I really don’t know. But I honestly think that there was something more behind this than boredom. A lot more.” He looks at me sideways. I feel a light blush come creeping up my cheeks, and look down at my hands, which are folded tightly over my still-flat stomach. I am a bit bewildered at my own protective gesture as I see what is coming.
“Well, Mulder...what else do you think it was?”
“I’ve laid my feelings out for you before. I know you didn’t believe me then, but believe me now.”
I look up, surprised at what he is saying. I could have sworn he wouldn’t remember that time in the Triangle, and as I think back to my own reaction, I realize that I knew he wasn’t delirious, but I booked it out of there anyway. I couldn’t deal with it then, and I’m not sure I can deal with it now. I’ve always felt the same way for him, but not acknowledging it out in the open like that has always made me feel safer, less vulnerable. But I realize that I need to stop thinking for myself, and start thinking for someone else. Because now I *am* vulnerable.
“You know I feel the same way, Mulder,” I say quietly.
“Yes. I do. So what are we going to do about it?”
“I think we’ve already done something about it.”
Again, that look of frustration. “Scully, you aren’t making this any easier.”
“I know, I know. That’s because it isn’t easy at all. And there’s something else that’s just going to make it all the more complicated, Mulder.” I take another deep breath and look him straight in the eye. Confusion, mixed with a small amount of fear is present there. “Mulder, I’m...*oh God*...I’m-pregnant.” There. I said it, albeit in the smallest voice known to man, but I said it. My hands are shaking as I release that pent-up knowledge that I’ve held on to for a week now.
“You’re what?” he asks in a choked voice. Then he blinks, as if he can't see me clearly, and sort of smiles. He is trying to maintain his composure as much as I’m trying to hang onto mine.
“You heard me. Pregnant. What are we going to do about *that*?”
“But...But...how? I thought...?” Now he's just plain confused, and do I detect a small amount of fear in his voice?
“So did I. But it happened, all the same.”
At that moment, the waiter comes in with our food. I don’t think either of us are very hungry after I decided to drop the bomb like that. We thank the waiter, who leaves us to continue with our 'talking'.
Mulder just stares at his food, and I know he’s trying to think about what I just told him and attempting to figure it all out. I give him time to think it over.
About five minutes pass. Then he looks up.
I give him a questioning look. Then I say, “Mulder, before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’m okay with whatever you decide. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really...it was just a...a freak of nature...?”
He waits a few seconds, tilts his head slightly, then: “Scully, you shouldn’t talk about our baby like that...”
Now *I’m* frustrated. “Mulder, I wasn’t talking about the baby like that, I’m talking about how...” I trail off as I realize that he’s poking fun and trying to get a rise out of me, as usual. And he said *our* baby. The realization glides over me like a wave. “So you’re okay with this?”
“Scully, what did I just tell you before? You know how I feel. I’m with you in whatever you decide.” He stands up and walks over to me, then grabs my hands and stands me up to face him. “You know I love you.” He smiles and kisses me tenderly. This is not what I expected at all, but I feel so much better. Then I wonder how I could ever think he would not be supportive of me, and I realize that I have been walking around in my own little cloud of selfishness and doubt for a couple of weeks. He wraps me in a tight hug and I feel relieved beyond belief.
“I guess I should make an honest G-woman out of you, then, huh,” he jokes.
“Mulder, we don’t have to get married just because...”
“Yes we do. What would your mother say?” He smiles. “Besides, I want to.”
“So do I. I love you too.” He kisses me again, and I feel so complete. When was the last time I felt this happy? I can’t even remember. But it doesn’t matter. It only matters that our baby is going to have two parents who absolutely adore it because it is a total miracle in the first place.
“How long have you known? And have you been to the doctor yet?”
“I’ve only really known for about a week, though I've sort of suspected for awhile, so I haven’t gone yet. I made an appointment for tomorrow, during lunch.”
“Okay. Do you want me to go with you?”
I nod, and offer him a slow smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Good.” We decide to take our dinner to go, since there’s no real reason for us to stay and talk here any longer. We agree to go back to my apartment, then we pay our bill, and leave.
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Two Months Later
Mulder and Scully’s Apartment
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I can’t even remember when it was that I first fell in love with Dana Katherine Scully. I didn’t realize it until it was almost too late, but now I have a chance to redeem myself. I don’t think I’ll make the best of husbands, and I’ve told her this, but she doesn’t care. She’s taken me as I am, wild theories and all, and for this I love her more than anything. She has never once tried to change me. But now I want to change, for her sake and for the sake of our son. It is important to me that they are safe, and that I am here to protect them always.
Now I watch as my wife, still in her white dress, wanders about our new apartment with her mother. Squeals of delight come from the latter as she sees what her daughter has done with what will be the baby’s room. I follow them inside and wrap my arms around Scully, who turns, smiles, and kisses me. Her mother is looking in every corner, every cabinet and drawer, absolutely glowing with pride and happiness. The room is beautiful, and I think about how much work my Scully has put into it. I helped whenever I could, or rather, whenever she would let me, with her claiming that she wanted to do it herself and have it be a surprise. I rest my chin down on her shoulder, kiss her again, and bring my hands down to rest on the gentle swell of her stomach. There is a slight flutter, as if a thousand butterflies are beating their wings, and she turns, a look of utter amazement on her beautiful face. I’m sure the same surprise is written all over mine.
“Oh, mom...I think the baby just moved...”
“Really?” Mrs. Scully comes racing over and places her hand on her daughter’s stomach. The light fluttery feeling comes once more, and her mother hugs us both at the same time, saying “Oh, I’m so happy for the both of you!” I can’t help but smile at her mother’s enthusiasm. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. Sometimes I think she’s even more excited than we are, if that’s possible.
Scully looks up and we exchange a secret, knowing smile. Her mother excuses herself and goes to dry her eyes in the bathroom, as my wife and I stand gazing at one another.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too...” I lower my lips to her’s and we share a passionate kiss. It’s late, our reception is over, and all I want now is to share this night with her. I think her mother understands this because when she comes back, she announces that she’s tired, and that she thinks its time to head back to her hotel room. She gives us a knowing grin, and Scully looks down and smiles, a rosy blush creeping up her face. My own cheeks feel hot.
Mrs. Scully leans in, gives us both a kiss, and we walk her to the door.
“Bye, mom.”
“Good bye, Hun...take good care of my daughter.”
Scully kisses her mother again, and her mother wraps her in a hug and whispers something in her ear. Scully nods, and her mother bids us goodbye, closing the door gently behind her.
“What was that?”
“She told me to tell you that if I don’t take care of myself, she’ll make sure you do.”
I laugh at that, knowing that Scully is responsible, but that she likes to push her limits. No one needs to tell her mother that, though. I guess she’s making it clear that she won’t allow for it.
We sit down on the couch, our arms around each other, and she rests her head against my chest.
“It was so nice to see everyone there,” she says.
“Yeah. I was surprised to see so many people from work, too.”
“Me too. But most of them told me they were wondering when we were going to get together.” She giggles a little. “I guess everyone could see it but us.”
I smile. “Yeah. Skinner clapped me on the shoulder and said exactly the same. ‘We were all wondering when you two would get your acts together!’”
She laughs at that. I laugh, too, remembering the AD’s look when we informed him of our wedding. I kiss the top of her head, so proud to finally be able to call her my wife. She looks up, and we kiss again. This time its longer, more passionate, and I realize that I want her more than ever. Under the advice of her priest, we haven’t made love in well over three weeks. He said that it would make our wedding night more special, and I have to say that I think he was right. As hard as it was, Scully kept me in check, and now I believe that we desire each other even more so than we ever did.
The passion grows as she reaches her arms around me and runs her fingers through my hair. I want nothing more than to take her right now, but at the same time, I want this to last. So I lift her up, kissing her tenderly all the way, and carry her into our bedroom.
“I love you,” she murmurs between kisses.
“And I love you.”
We make slow, passionate love all night. It feels like the first time. I love this woman so much that I can’t get enough of her. The whole month that went by where we weren’t speaking was hell for me, and I know it was the same for her. To see this grow out of a most uncomfortable situation is payback enough for me, and I know that it couldn’t have happened any other way.
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Five Months Later
Mulder and Scully’s Apartment
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“Have you got him alright?” The worried voice comes from my mother, who is standing right over me as I lift my son into my arms. His little face has started to pucker, and already I know that he’s about to start wailing. Days old, and he can scream louder than I ever could.
“Yes, mom.”
“Well, okay...I was just making sure.”
Just then, Mulder comes in carrying the rest of the things I brought with me to the hospital. He drops them in the hallway and walks over to us.
“Hey.” He leans down and gives me a kiss. “How’s he doing?”
“Oh, just crying for his dad, I’ll bet.”
“Here, let me take him for a few minutes while you get settled.”
“Okay.” I hand William over to his father, who holds him tenderly up to his shoulder. The baby’s whimpering tapers off, and I watch for a few moments. They make the sweetest picture together, and my mother stands there looking as if she’s about to burst into tears. She smiles wanly at me and follows me into the bedroom, carrying one of the suitcases.
“Dana...I’m so proud...he’s beautiful.”
“I know...thanks, mom. I’m glad you were here for the whole thing.”
“You know I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
We start unpacking my things as well as Mulder’s.
“Hun, are you still leaving the Bureau?”
“Yeah. I think so. I don’t want to leave Mulder there on the X-Files by himself, but we’re worried about the baby, mom.”
“Why?”
“Because of our work. There are a lot of people after us who are willing to do *anything* to get to us, up to and including harming an innocent child. I wouldn’t be able to leave William at day care or anything like that and feel safe, and I know Mulder wouldn’t be able to, either.” I don’t add the fact that Mulder has begun a dangerous project that could get us all into major trouble.
“I understand. Maybe it’s for the best.”
“I think so.”
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About two hours later, my mother decides it’s time to go. I guess she can see the exhaustion in my eyes, as well as in Mulder’s. He hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s tired. She holds the baby one more time, kisses all of us, and leaves, promising to call sometime the next day. As the door shuts behind her, I heave a great sigh and walk over to where Mulder is standing, the baby back in his arms.
“You think it’s time to put him to bed?”
I nod. “Yeah. He’s starting to doze off.” Our baby’s eyes are half closed, and his thumb is corked in his perfect little mouth.
We walk into the nursery and lay William down in his bassinet. Mulder lays a blanket over his tiny body, and I lean down and kiss his cheek.
“Goodnight, baby.”
When we’re sure he’s asleep, we tiptoe out of the room and collapse on our bed. It’s been a long day and we’re both exhausted as we lay in each other’s arms. We drift off to sleep ourselves, not even bothering to change out of our clothes.
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Four Hours Later
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I groan and turn over. It feels so good to lie on my stomach again. But before I can get comfortable, I hear the beginnings of a full-blown scream-fest and I sit up. Mulder’s beaten me to it, however, and he’s already walking out the door towards the nursery.
I hear him speaking softly, and then, after a few minutes, he comes in again, carrying our son in his arms.
“Someone wants his mommy.”
I smile. “Thanks...you beat me to him.”
He grins, hands William over, and comes back to bed. By now the baby’s crying has stopped and I lean back into the pillows, laying him across my stomach and chest. Mulder’s strong arm comes around to encircle us both, and I sigh, as much with exhaustion as with content. Who ever thought that one night could lead to this much happiness and perfection? We’ve both been through so much pain and sorrow that it is right and just that we have this moment. My husband and our child, who, through the fault of power-hungry men should never have been here, drift off to sleep as I contemplate these things.
A new thought pricks at my consciousness, though. Mulder recently began something dangerous. He is desperate to overthrow this secret agency and publicize their wrong-doings against the people of this country, as well as himself, me, and our families. I want to help him, and at the same time I want him to stop. Together we’ve agreed that it is best for me to stay behind the scenes, at home with William, and stay safe. I have a responsibility towards the protection of our new family, and even though Mulder accepts his own part of that responsibility, his quest calls for him to continue. I understand, but I am scared. I am so scared. Every day becomes increasingly dangerous, and it is well known that with Mulder out of the way, their plans can continue unhindered.
Perhaps it is this thought that frightens me the most. I can’t bear the thought of losing him, when we have only just begun a new stage in our lives together. I need him, even if I’m not always so sure that he needs me.
Troubled by this, but feeling sleepier by the second, my hand absently trails down to caress my baby’s head, then further down to my husband’s hand. This I clasp tightly in mine, and drift off to sleep.
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Four hours later, the sun comes streaming in through the window, which we forgot to close the night before. Mulder and William are not here when I wake up, so I stretch luxuriously and get up to see what they’re up to.
I throw on a bathrobe, run my fingers through my hair, and make my way down the hall, toward the sound of Mulder’s voice, coming from the nursery. I tiptoe in, and lean in the doorway, completely moved by the picture in front of me. Mulder is sitting in the rocking chair with William in his arms, softly reading to him. This goes on for about five minutes before he realizes that I’m standing there, and he looks up sheepishly. I smile broadly and go to them, kissing Mulder good morning.
“What’re we reading?”
He holds up the book. “The 60 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time.” I sigh. Only Mulder. Even so, William is completely content and relaxed, even though it’s way past breakfast time for him.
“Come on. Time for breakfast.”
Mulder smiles slyly and asks innocently, “Do I get breakfast too?”
I take the baby in one arm, and put one hand to my hip. “I don’t think you want this breakfast.”
“Well, maybe not, but I want this one...” and with that, he stands up, folds his arms gently around us, and kisses me fervently. Then he wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we head to the kitchen, my head leaning against his shoulder.
The End.
