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 3 - Cornered

"What the hell are you doing here, Scully?" Mulder asked from

the open bathroom doorway.

"I would have thought," she moaned, "it was fairly obvious."

Could her life get any more humiliating? Throwing up in the

midst of Mulder's overactive sex life was an all time low.

"Mulder, do you want to explain this?" The woman had put on

Mulder's shirt, though it didn't cover much. She stood,

hands on her curvy hips, perky breasts heaving in anger. Well,

maybe there were new levels of humiliation to plumb after all.

The woman eyed Scully with something between pity and disgust.

"It's complicated, Cassie. I..."

"On second thought, don't bother with an explanation. And, if

you were thinking of calling me tomorrow--DON'T." Cassie

flounced off, with as much dignity as an angry half-naked woman

could muster.

Scully crouched next to the toilet, listening to the rustle of

clothes from the next room and the slam of the apartment door.

Wave after wave of nausea crashed over her.

"That went well, don't you think?" Mulder asked, sarcastically.

"Would you mind not pointing that thing at me?" Scully asked,

gesturing at Mulder's still impressive erection.

"Oh, for fucks sake," he muttered, leaving the room. He returned

a moment later, wearing jeans.

Her stomach had finally settled, so she flushed the toilet one last

time and sat back against the tile wall, her legs out straight in

front of her.

"Sorry about Carrie," she muttered.

"Cassie," he said, wetting a washcloth and handing it to her. "At

least I think it was Cassie. Or Callie."

"No, I think you were right--Cassie. Anyway, I'm sorry." The

washcloth felt deliciously cool against her heated skin. She

draped it over her face, as if she could shut out the whole

wretched mess.

He slid down to sit beside her, his bare back to the tile wall.

"No. I'm sorry. I was feeling a little...uh...cornered. I

stopped into a bar..."

"Doesn't matter. You don't owe me anything, Mulder. That's

what I came here to tell you, but I started to feel so sick."

"Scully..."

"I wanted to tell you that I'm going to keep the baby."

Mulder sighed deeply. She heard his head clunk against the

tile wall. Pulling the washcloth from her face, she turned

to look at him.

"Obviously, that wasn't what you wanted to hear."

"I never said that," he muttered. His eyes held a look of

complete misery.

"You didn't have to. But you don't have to worry--you're off

the hook. I don't expect anything from you, Mulder, so you

don't need to feel 'cornered'."

"I think you should lie down," he said, scrambling onto his feet.

He extended a hand to her. "I'm worried about you."

She allowed him to help her up. He kept an arm around her waist

and led her to the living room. Why the hell did he have to be

so gentle? And why the hell did she feel such raging, pathetic

jealousy? Mulder had every right to fuck whomever he chose.

"I'd rather not lie down on that," she said, nodding at the sofa--

scene of Mulder's naked tryst. Why did she feel like a wronged

girlfriend? Mulder obviously considered himself a free agent.

Two months ago, Mulder had turned to Scully in a drunken frenzy.

She had merely been a warm, willing body when he needed to blot

out the pain. It clearly meant nothing to him--less than nothing.

His only concern for her now was for a friend who had gotten herself

in a bad situation.

"Fine," Mulder sighed, leading her to the bedroom. His bedroom

was a disaster scene, boxes of files, magazines, books everywhere.

It was clear he rarely slept here. He shoved piles of papers from

the bed, and she stretched out. He pulled her shoes off.

"I'm fine, really. I should be leaving."

"You look like hell," he said, sitting on the side of the bed. He

reached for her hand. "Your hands are like ice. Scully, is this

normal?"

"I don't know. I've never been pregnant before."

"You're a doctor." Irritation crept into his voice.

"I'm a pathologist, Mulder. My OB/GYN rotation was a billion years

ago. I'm sure it's fine. I have a doctor appointment tomorrow."

"Look, what I said before about feeling cornered..."

"I understand, Mulder. You were blindsided. So was I, frankly.

I had plans for my life. There were things I wanted to do--things

I hoped to do on the X-Files, and I'm not sure how having a baby

fits into all of that. This isn't exactly what I dreamed of."

She struggled to sit up, and Mulder pushed her down gently. "I

mean it--lay down. He stroked her hair, his hand lingering

on her cheek. "I...I want to help you. Financially, that is.

I obviously don't spend money on creature comforts."

Annoyed, she looked around the cluttered bedroom. "I agree with

you there, Mulder, but you don't 'owe' me, okay."

"I'm not trying to keep this a monetary arrangement, Scully. It's

just that...it would be safer for you and for the baby if it's

not...official."

She pushed his hands away and sat up, scooting to the end of the

bed. The urge to flee was overpowering as she shoved her feet

back in her shoes.

"I've got to go."

"Scully, wait. There are things you don't know. This could be

dangerous in ways you can't even imagine."

"You've made yourself very clear, Mulder. Don't worry--like I said,

you're off the hook."

<><><><>

"Try and relax, Dana. You're a little tense." Paula Sherwood's

hands were gentle, and blessedly small, but Scully grimaced

anyway.

"It's been a rough day." Rough day indeed. She and Mulder had

barely spoken. There had been no affectionate banter, no

wisecracks, not even shoptalk.

"Fundal height is good. Consistent with ten weeks gestation.

Everything looks great," Paula said, ending the exam. She

removed her latex gloves and helped Scully to pull her feet from

the stirrups and sit up. "Why don't you get dressed and we'll

talk. Is the baby's father here?"

"No. He couldn't make it."

Scully could tell from the little frown on Paula's face, the

obstetrician knew it was an excuse. Paula smiled and left the

examining room.

Damn hormones. She hated being on the verge of tears all the time.

Scully slid off the examining table and reached for her underwear.

The set was lacy and sexy, and no one was going to be seeing it

any time soon. God that was a depressing thought, as was the

prospect of wearing big 'old lady' panties in a few months. She

dressed quickly and went in search of Paula's office.

"Dana, come in. I'm so excited for you. I love helping medical

school friends start their families. How have you been?"

"Busy. Work is always interesting."

"Sounds exciting. Dana, I am a little concerned about a few things.

I sense that you're under a great deal of stress, and that can

affect the baby."

"I'll admit that it's been a stressful year. I'd been teaching up

until about six months ago, when I started working in the field."

"Is the work you do dangerous, Dana?"

"It can be, I suppose. But my partner and I don't take

unnecessary chances and we watch each other's backs."

"Dana, much as I advise women that their lives don't have to change

with pregnancy, there are certain physical limitations. How will

this affect your partnership?"

Scully couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to answer that

question. She cast her eyes down and swallowed hard. Paula

sighed, apparently gleaning all the information she needed

from her patient's reaction.

"I see. Dana, I can't tell you to change occupations, or what

choices to make in your private life, but I can tell you that

I see the toll this is taking on you. You're two pounds lighter

than at your last checkup six months ago. I would expect

some weight gain by ten weeks gestation. You need to take the

time to eat."

"Paula, I try to eat but I just haven't been able to keep anything

down. The morning sickness is just awful. I can't believe how

whiny that sounds, but, honestly, I can't believe my mother

did this four times."

"Well, every pregnancy is different. I have some pamphlets here

that should help. I'd like you to try some of the suggestions

in them--small, frequent meals, saltine crackers, ginger ale. If

you're still having trouble keeping food down, we'll try some

vitamin therapy," Paula said, handing her the materials. "It may

be miserable and inconvenient, but morning sickness is rarely

dangerous. Just watch out for dehydration. I know you're well

aware of the signs.

"And I want you to try to slow down. You have a difficult job,

but you need to get enough rest. Dana...is the father going

to be able to support you in this pregnancy?"

Scully stared at the sheaf of booklets in her hands, willing

herself not to cry at the gentle concern in Paula's voice.

"He isn't able to be involved right now." God that sounded

like he was married. In a way, he was married--to his work,

to the search for his sister. "It's fine, really. I can

manage. The FBI is quite "family friendly" these days."

<><><><>

"What did the doctor say?"

"Mulder, I don't understand you." She looked up from her

decaf tea, shaking her head. He hadn't called after the

doctor appointment the afternoon before, but she hadn't

expected him to.

"It was a straightforward question, wasn't it?" Mulder

shifted his weight from foot to foot, obviously uneasy under

her cool stare.

"Oh, it was simple enough. I just can't figure out where

this concern fits in with your "unofficial" status."

"Come on, Scully. You know I care about you.

Please...what did the doctor say?"

She sighed, eyes focused on the cloudy surface of her tea.

"She said I'm fine. Everything looks fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. I was worried."

She nodded. So worried he needed to pick up the next available

woman. She pushed that ugly thought down, reminding herself

again that she had no right to feel possessive.

"I know you were. But I'm okay, don't give it another thought."

Her voice sounded harsh in her ears.

"What did she say about the morning sickness?" Why the hell

did he have that tender sound in his voice? His kindness

grated on her skin and felt like pity.

"She said it's perfectly normal. Really, let's drop it, all

right?"

"Sure. Forget I asked." The wounded look was one he did

well. She turned away, suddenly fascinated by a Yeti

clipping on Mulder's bulletin board.

"You can't have it both ways, Mulder. You can't behave like

the concerned father-to-be and the innocent bystander at the

same time. It isn't fair, and it's too confusing. So just

go back to ignoring me, okay?"

<><><><>