TITLE:                         The Way Things Are

AUTHOR:                  Sukie Tawdry

EMAIL:                       sukie_tawdry@hotmail.com <mailto:sukie_tawdry@hotmail.com>

RATING:                     NC-17

SPOLIERS:               Season 1

CATEGORY:             Guess you could call it AU. Diverges

from canon some time during season 1.

KEYWORDS:            Story, M/S (some elements of M/other)

DISCLAIMER:           None of the characters belong to me. Sniff

SUMMARY:               One night and their whole lives were changed

forever.

FEEDBACK:             Good or not so good--go ahead. I can

take it. I'm a big girl.

ARCHIVE:                  Again, go ahead.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks go to Sybils for wonderful beta and support.

And a big thank you to Foxymulderluver for giving

this story a home on her website:

<http://www.oocities.org/foxymulderluver>

 

Part 6 - Armistice

 

With the blessed end of the first trimester, the nausea had abated.

Scully gained seven pounds in three weeks, making her doctor very

happy. The recuperative powers of the human body amazed Scully.

Relationships were a little harder to mend, but she and Mulder

did their best and settled into a pattern. They studiously

ignored her pregnancy.

 

They continued to work well together, maintaining an enviable

solve rate. He made the leaps and she proved him right.

They achieved an armistice in the painful war they'd fought.

 

Mulder had been subdued, almost as if he was grieving. He no

longer showed up rumpled in the mornings. He was neatly dressed

each day, but he looked as if he wasn't sleeping well. His

face seemed thinner, the cheekbones and jaw in sharper relief.

 

The phone calls from assorted women had ceased, as far as she

could tell. No breathlessly generic 'Is Fox there?' queries.

It had been a long time since she'd overheard Mulder brushing

last night's date off.

 

There was a yearning quality to Mulder these days. He always

seemed to be on the verge of asking her something. She would

catch him reaching out to touch her, only to see him force

his hand back to his side. His eyes always seemed to track

her movements.

 

She tried not to read too much into Mulder's silent surveillance.

After all, he'd always been a little territorial. So perhaps

now he carried her suitcase when they were traveling,

or dropped her off at the door instead of letting her walk

through the parking lot. Well, nice guys did that

kind of thing. And Mulder had always been considerate.

 

And if he called her more often in the evenings, well, friends

talked on the phone. She reminded herself that it really didn't

mean anything. It was confusing, though, this kindness without

commitment.

 

She made an appointment to speak with Skinner. Mulder offered

to go with her, but she needed to do that alone. No need to

engage Skinner's suspicions any more than she had to. Mulder

would have fidgeted in his seat, giving off "it's me" rays.

 

She marched up to the fourth floor and announced herself to the

AD's assistant. Straightening her suit, she prayed the changes

to her body weren't too obvious yet. The skirt's waistband

was finally getting tight. Soon, she'd have to start holding it

together with a safety pin. Thank goodness the jacket to this

suit was long.

 

Skinner's admin answered her phone, speaking in a low voice.

"The assistant director will see you now," she announced.

 

"Agent Scully." Skinner looked up from the stack of paper on

his desk. His white shirt was perfectly pressed, the creases

on the sleeves knife sharp.

 

"Thank you for seeing me, sir," she said, entering the office and

moving to a chair opposite her boss's desk.

 

"What is this about, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked, as he sat down

and gestured for her to do the same. "Are you having a problem

with Agent Mulder?"

 

"No, sir. This has nothing to do with Agent Mulder. I do have

something that I need to tell you, though. I'm pregnant."

 

She rather enjoyed watching Skinner's face as she delivered her

news. In the second before his expression returned to stern and

businesslike, she caught surprise and curiosity. And he couldn't

legally ask her any of the questions that must be rattling

around in his head. His eyes strayed briefly to the chair Mulder

usually occupied before returning to her face.

 

Scully had never trusted this man completely. He'd never given her

any reason to doubt him in the short time he'd supervised the X-Files

team, but there had always been something off kilter. There always

seemed to be the stink of cigarettes in the office, and she knew the

AD didn't smoke. She remembered the strange man who had hung

back in the shadows of the office amidst a cloud of smoke, silently

observing. The same man had been present the first time she met with

Chief Blevins, upon her assignment to the X-Files. Though she'd

never heard him speak, the man had always seemed ominous.

 

Skinner cleared his throat and leveled a careful look at her.

"Have you shared this news with Agent Mulder?"

 

Scully glanced over at the sofa against the wall. The heavy glass

ashtray on the end table contained several cigarette butts, a thin

twist of smoke still drifting up from one.

 

"Yes, sir. Agent Mulder is aware of my condition."

 

"I see," Skinner said, gruffly. "You'll inform me if your doctor

makes any changes in your work status."

 

"Certainly, sir. I'll let you get back to work," she said as

she left the office.

 

Standing in the hall, she pondered AD Skinner's inscrutable

connection with the man responsible for the cigarette butts.

Mulder had talked about obstacles put in the path of his work.

Was this man the source of those obstacles?

 

She returned to the basement office to find Mulder standing at the

worktable she used as a desk. He held the black and white

ultrasound photo she'd brought back from her appointment the day

before. There were tears in his eyes and an expression of such

longing on his face. She froze in the doorway, unable to look away.

 

The ultrasound appointment had been an awkward situation. Scully

told Mulder she had to leave the office early, but with all

pregnancy-related subjects out of bounds, she hadn't told him why.

 

So, her mother had gone with her, watching with Scully as the

image of the baby appeared on the monitor. It had been a

bittersweet experience, seeing her child for the first time

and realizing how much she wanted to share it with the child's

father.

 

She'd left the picture in plain sight, not as a rebuke or

tease, but as an opportunity. Holding the photo with a trembling

hand, he gasped as if someone had struck him, seeming to crumble

internally. Something broke apart in her at the sight of

Mulder obviously in pain.

 

She cleared her throat, and Mulder hurriedly replaced the

picture on the desk. "I'm sorry. I...uh...the picture was

out, and I thought it might be evidence from the Bielman case."

 

She smiled at his fib, crossing the room and picking up the

picture. "It's all right. You can look at it," she said,

pointing. "You can see the head here and the way the arm is

bent--see, she's sucking her thumb."

 

"She?"

 

"That's what the technician thought. I don't know if I'd be

painting the nursery pink on that evidence alone, but I am

starting to think of the baby as 'she'."

 

He looked at her midsection, shaking his head. "Amazing."

 

"It is pretty amazing. Seeing her appear on the monitor just

about blew me away. I guess I hadn't really thought beyond

the initial shock of being pregnant. But there is a baby here,"

she said, resting her hand on the small mound of her belly.

"A whole new little person."

 

She took his hand in hers, gently placing it where his child

lay within her. He closed his eyes, gasping slightly before

he drew his hand away.

 

"I can't. I...I wish it wasn't like this. Scully, it isn't

safe for me to be involved."

 

"Is this about your sister?"

 

Mulder sighed. "At some point, everything comes back to

Samantha."

 

"Are you afraid this baby will be abducted, too? Or is it

that you'll get distracted? That you'll stop looking for

Samantha? What exactly are you afraid of, Mulder? I don't

understand."

 

"There are things I can't tell you. It's just too dangerous.

If I had any sense at all, I'd ask Skinner to reassign you."

 

She stared at him for a long time. "Well, I certainly appreciate

having decisions taken out of my hands, Mulder," she said

sarcastically. "Reassignment. Is that what you want?"

 

"No! Not at all, but it isn't about what I want. You'd be a lot

safer if you weren't connected to me in any way. Both of you."

 

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They were called to consult on a case in Fredericksburg for the

next few days. Too close to justify overnight accommodations, they'd

made the hourlong drive each day. The ghostly visions of Confederate

soldiers had turned out to be film school students making a very low

budget horror film. She and Mulder drove back to DC after wrapping

up the case.

 

"It's almost 6:00," Mulder said. "We should stop for dinner."

 

She smiled in the darkened car. For a man who routinely forgot to

eat when he was working, Mulder had been vigilant about mealtime on

this case. He obviously didn't want a repeat of the Dearborn

debacle. "Okay."

 

They stopped at a Crackerbarrel in Dumphries. Mulder seemed

to pick at his food, all the while watching her carefully as

she ate her dinner. She could swear he counted each forkful.

 

The line for the register was long, so she wandered the gift

shop while he waited to pay their bill. She looked at the

old-time dolls, china tea sets and hand-painted jumpers,

shaking her head at the inflated prices.

 

A display of baby paraphernalia caught her eye. She knew she

should stay away, but she found herself holding a sweet, pale

yellow sweater, tenderly embroidered with apples and pears.

 

"So tiny," Mulder said. She hadn't heard him approach, and

now he stood at her elbow.

 

"Yeah," she agreed. She moved to replace the sweater on the

display shelf, when Mulder took it out of her hand. He moved

around another shopper, returning to the cashier line.

 

"You don't have to do that, Mulder," she said, catching up to

him.

 

"I want to. Please, let me do this one admittedly inadequate

little thing."

 

She nodded, tears in her eyes as he took out his wallet and

paid for his purchase. How ridiculous, she thought; it was

only a trinket from a gift shop chain. But somehow it touched

her. Mulder smiled, his fingers brushing hers as he handed her

the brown paper bag.

 

They rode the rest of the way home in silence. She held the

brown bag over the rise in her belly, as if to say, "Here baby,

your daddy bought you something. He just may never be able to

let you love him."

 

He guided the car to a stop in front of her apartment. He'd

insisted on picking her up each day for the drive to

Fredericksburg. As she reached for the door handle, he touched

her arm.

 

"I'll call you later," he said. "I mean, if that's all right."

Mulder's face was tender in the muted light from a streetlamp.

She was seized by a wave of attraction, shocked at the power of

it after all that had happened.

 

She loved this man. What had begun as infatuation had deepened

and transmuted into something she could no longer deny. It

wasn't sensible; it would only bring her pain. Scully had repeated

the phrases over and over, a mantra of caution and sensibility.

But in the end, all the words in the world couldn't change one

unmistakable fact: she loved him.

 

Scully tried to keep her eyes on the misty street beyond the

windshield, but her gaze strayed to the man next to her.

Mulder's eyes were trained on his hands, locked tightly

on the steering wheel as if he were afraid it might fly away.

 

As if resisting a powerful force, his gaze drifted around

the car before locking onto her face. There was a hunger in

his expression, an ache so deep it took her breath away.

 

The air between then seemed magnetized. Mulder leaned closer, his

breath whispering against her face. She remembered another night

when she'd turned her head to find Mulder this near. They'd

been propelled that night by lust and intoxication. Tonight,

there was something much stronger at work.

 

His lips were warm as they brushed against hers. Had they

been this soft that night? She tilted her head slightly and

deepened the kiss. Her fingers rose to cradle his cheek before

slipping into the silky hair at the back of his head. He

pulled her into his arms, tenderness becoming passion. Surely,

he hadn't kissed her like this months ago. No one had ever

kissed her with this much emotion.

 

He pulled away, gasping for air and visibly shaken.

 

She shook her head, hoping to clear it. Would things ever be

easy between them? "I'd better go," she murmured, reaching for

the door handle.

 

Mulder touched her lips with his thumb. "I...uh...I'll call you

later," he said, his voice trembling a bit.

 

"Good night, Mulder."

 

She turned as she reached the door of her building, dazed by

what had happened. She caught Mulder's eye as he watched her

from the car, his expression unreadable. When was this fucking

rollercoaster going to stop? Her heart couldn't take any more

sharp corners and sudden dips.

 

As she arrived at her apartment door, she realized she'd left the

baby sweater in the car. Well, she -had- been distracted. She'd

ask Mulder to bring it to work when he called her later.

 

She unlocked her apartment door, and pushed it open. Her

last conscious thought as hands grabbed her and a strange

smelling cloth was pressed to her mouth, was of the little

yellow sweater and the man who bought it.

 

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