Title: Circular File
Author: Gina Rain (ginarain@aol.com)
Category: S, A, MSR
Rating: PG-13 (language, hint of general 
naughtiness)
Spoilers: None. Set post-season 8 
Archive:  Anywhere, just let me know
Summary: Scully makes a decision; takes a stand; 
and kicks some butt.
Disclaimer: CC and Co. own it. Yada yada.
Notes: As always, a big thank you to my beta, 
Christina. 


She ran her fingers over the cover of the bland 
manila file folder she had just closed. In it was 
the final proofed version of an autopsy report on 
one P. Willis Hankins.

 she thought. 

She sighed. Doggett and Reyes were fine people. 
Good, solid investigators but they weren't. . . 



Great. She was now using Mulder's favorite 
"William fussing" expression to try and stop her 
own less than charitable thoughts.  She let her 
mind drift to the man she found herself internally 
quoting. A smile crossed  Scully's face as she 
wondered what the two of them might be up to now. 
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. 
She could clearly picture Mulder patting powder on 
Will's soft little bottom, while he wriggled and 
kicked his legs in a little baby protest dance. 

She opened her eyes to face her cold, stark 
office. Time to go. Might as well face whatever 
music was waiting for her at FBI headquarters.


She had done little more than pass through the 
Hoover building since she gave birth. Quantico was 
home base now. Brief consultations at the special 
request of the X-File Division were about the only 
thing that would get her in the building. Or, as 
in this case, receiving a special summons--by 
Skinner's secretary, Kimberly, of all people. For 
something that "could not be discussed over the 
phone." She couldn't not go. She owed it to her 
for the kindness she showed when Mulder was--well, 
dead.

Kim asked her to come to the office at 11:45. 
Lunch would be at 12:30.

Scully walked through the bullpen to various 
barely concealed half-smirks and knowing smiles. A 
few people nodded. One or two actually greeted her 
with a brief "hello." Almost everyone gave her 
abdomen a good long look before moving their gaze 
up to her face and then dropping it to their 
computer monitors or unfinished paperwork. 

"Agent Scully." The formal greeting surprised her 
as Kim had taken to calling her by her "Dana," at 
her insistence, months ago. She handed her a 
sealed interoffice envelope. "The AD is out of 
town but he left this file for you." 

Kim's gaze was steady on her face. The two of them 
were the only occupants of the office but Kim 
seemed to be "playing to the crowd" beyond the 
opened outer door.

Scully didn't ask questions. She accepted the 
envelope, formally thanked Kim and left.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind her, 
she opened the envelope.  There was a yellow Post-
it note attached to a standard manila folder 
scotch-taped on all sides. Kim was taking her 
cloak and dagger routine to the nth degree. 



Scully smiled. Our usual place. The two women had 
gone to lunch exactly three times. Once when 
Mulder was missing. Twice after they had found his 
body. Those times were really blessings. They 
weren't friends, by any means. They barely had 
anything in common. However, in retrospect, Kim 
had chosen three times when Scully was very nearly 
at the end of her rope and needed to get away. 
Needed to listen to someone chatter about nothing 
in particular, while she was trying to choke down 
the food her developing child's body needed so 
badly. Desperately needed conversation peppered 
with Mulder mentions. Not morbid "he was a good 
man" type of things but funny, cute anecdotes of 
things he had said or done before even Scully knew 
him. No hushed tones. No funeral dirges. No 
avoidance of the quasi-"widow." For that small 
amount of time, she was allowed to keep the man 
she loved alive in conversation. Kim had given her 
that gift.
 
Scully sat down on the park bench and began 
carefully pulling off the tape from the file. 
It contained one xeroxed page.

"Dr. High and Mighty Baby Challenge

Your assignment, should you choose to accept it is 
simple.

We need the following questions answered--
preferably in essay form:

Baby's Father:

Kid's Legal Last Name:

Kid's most distinguishing feature (be creative. 
Large proboscis, red hair and green skin are 
pretty much a given):

Current "family" set-up:

Bonus points if you can answer the age-old 
question:

Just how did they manage to "resurrect" old Spooky 
after he took tail and ran over impending 
daddyhood? (Assuming, of course, that's the 
paternity theory you choose) 

Submissions will be judged on creativity (although 
NOTHING was more creative than that bullshit 
"death" story and the thousands of tax dollars 
spent on searching for a "missing" agent. Nice to 
have friends in high places, huh?) and/or visible 
proof (feel free to try and hack into birth 
records, get old Dana to show you pictures of  
Scully, Jr. or anything else you can dig up. This 
is the FBI, you know).

Winner will receive two tickets to the Lion King 
at the Kennedy Center, as well as the proceeds of 
the pool."


Scully sat there with the file in her hand for 
quite some time.  Boring, dull looking things 
containing all manner of evil. She smirked to 
herself over her sudden dislike of an absolutely 
ordinary everyday item. 

The silent scream that only she could hear was 
back. It had come back the moment her maternity 
leave ended. The moment she went back to the FBI. 
Sometimes it faded, sometimes--it was deafening. 
It was always there. Just like the first time. 
That happened the moment she found out about 
Mulder's abduction. One constant companion 
replaced by a horrible, mocking new one. 

She felt a hand touch her shoulder and reeled 
around sharply. It was Kim.

"Sorry, Dana. I didn't mean to scare you."

Scully let out a deep breath.

"I guess you've had time to see it. Sorry for the 
weirdness but I didn't want anyone to know I was 
passing this on to you. You know they have these 
stupid pools all the time--over everything--but 
this one is. . .well, it's nastier than most and 
more than that--they are actively trying to get 
into personal records that they have no right to. 
I just thought you should know."

"There aren't any names on this."

"No. But it's the usual perpetrators. Watkins and 
Dobrenitz. It's being passed on to a lot of 
people, though."

"Thanks, Kim."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe nothing. I just don't 
need to deal with this at this time of my life."

Kim looked down at her paper sack and pulled out a 
sandwich. She seemed to hesitate for a moment 
before giving voice to what she was thinking.

"Is anything wrong?"

"No. No. Things are fine. Just--certain options 
have opened up to us and they have to be 
considered. That's all."

"Options?" Scully knew Kim was curious but also 
knew she wouldn't push. They both felt a dividing 
line in their relationship. It would always exist. 
But she needed a female friend and pushed herself 
to show a little initiative in breaching that 
line. Even if went against all her instincts of 
self-preservation.
 
Scully frowned a bit and tried to visibly relax 
her features.

"Mulder and I have been offered teaching jobs. 
Actually, we would both teach one course in our 
fields of expertise and one course--well, it's one 
of those odd courses that people look at in the 
semester guide and wonder why anyone is getting 
college credit for such a thing. This one is based 
on the oddities that basically were the X-files. 
And we'd alternate as instructors for that course. 
Probably give the students whiplash with the 
seemingly opposing points of view."

Kim's face lit up with genuine interest.

"I would love to take such a course. When I was 
going to school--all we had in the way of a fun 
sort of experimental course was in woman's studies 
but I still remember it to this day. The kids will 
love this. You guys would love this. It's such a 
great opportunity."

"Well, it would have its advantages. I mean, one 
of us would be around to take care of William at 
all times. Along with Mulder's writing, we'd have 
enough money to get by rather nicely."

"But. . ."

"But," Scully leaned back and closed her eyes, 
pointing her face toward the afternoon sunlight. 
"it's in Boston. It would mean a complete change. 
It would mean giving up something I've sacrificed 
nearly everything for."

"The FBI still means that much to you?" Kim asked.

"Not in the way you think. I just don't know if I 
can leave before my business is finished."
~~~~~~~~~

Scully walked into her apartment quietly. She 
never knew what Mulder would be doing with 
William. He didn't keep much of a schedule. But 
this evening, there was no William in sight and 
Mulder was busily typing on the computer keyboard. 
Nothing like a man in a navy blue tee shirt, 
shorts and glasses. Mulder's hair was in desperate 
need of a cut but she liked it longer. That errant 
lock that always fell in his eyes was back with a 
vengeance. She had missed that in his weedwacker 
hair cut days.

"Are you ogling me, woman?"

Mulder looked up briefly and gave her a quirky 
little smile while still typing away. 

"You are a sight for sore eyes, Mulder."

"Ah, I believe that term is eye-sore."

"Nope," she walked over and gave him a quick kiss 
on the top of his head. "What have you done with 
my baby?"

"I don't know about your baby but our baby is all 
powdered and diapered and down for a nice little 
nap. And that will probably be all it is because 
he sure won't sleep through the night after going 
to bed so early."

"That's all right. I want to play with him a bit 
later anyway."

She sat down on the couch for a moment and closed 
her eyes. Listened to the sound of Mulder tapping 
away on the keyboard. It was nice. It was 
comfortable. Safe. Madness-free.

How did they get to this point? Life with Mulder a 
calm experience? A happy one? Amazing. Pathetic to 
the rest of the world, she supposed. Not that she 
cared. Not really.

"Tell me about it," he whispered as he settled 
himself next to her.

"Tell you about what?"

"Whatever is bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me, Mulder. How's the 
writing going?"

"Ruby has just called Franklin "Reynard." Late 
night--on a stake out. In a car. Anyway--he tells 
her he allows no one, not even his parents, to 
call him that. She just looks at him and tells him 
that he has to make an exception to that rule. He 
gives her a devastating smile--she hands him a can 
of iced tea and they're soon going at it like 
bunnies."
 
"What?" Mulder's literary pursuits never failed to 
make Scully smile. "You know that's not what 
happened, Mulder."

"Well--I'm not some sadistic bastard, Scully. I 
can't tease my audience. I won't.  What? You want 
me to make them wait for seven years worth of 
novels before they get some tame little love 
scene? That's just cruel. We already had all that 
sexual tension in the first one.  That's enough. 
We've got to take literary license here. Damn the 
truth. Besides, you know you wanted me right at 
that moment and I kind of had a hankering for you, 
so. . . I just decided to let the two R's act on 
their desires instead of following our turtle-
paced romance." 

Scully was presented with the adventures of Ruby 
Kiner and Reynard Franklin every evening. It was 
actually quite a bit of fun and more than that--it 
touched her. It wasn't really what Mulder was 
writing at all. He was writing a novel based on 
their experiences but these spicy short stories he 
gave her each night were for her eyes only and 
solely for her entertainment. After he fell asleep 
or sometimes before work, she'd sneak into the 
living room and print out the real work, which 
she'd peruse over lunch. He knew about it. It was 
just a strange little game they played. 

The real story was very good. Very telling. A lot 
of unspoken emotions were given a voice. It was 
almost as if she was getting a more complete 
version of something she had already experienced.  
Mulder was a natural storyteller and obviously 
very gung ho about writing. He knocked off the 
first novel in five weeks and started this one 
well  before the first one was due to be 
published.

Still, she worried about him being in the 
apartment nearly all day. Writing squeezed in 
between baby duties. She wondered how long he 
could be content with such a life. And yet, it was 
one he not only embraced but had originally 
suggested.

It had seemed like a very good plan. Once William 
arrived, Mulder sprang into action. He gathered 
the gunmen and literally started a bizarre x-file 
"army." That's what it seemed like. They gathered 
a small group of people. Former abductees who they 
deemed to be "serious," and not crackpots or 
possible alien replicants. Others who were 
interested in the phenomenon. Still others who had 
not had abduction experience but who had some form 
of encounter with something in the nature of an x-
file. Mulder and the gunmen spent a few weeks just 
"storytelling." Passing on more or less everything 
they knew. Scully sat back in shock as this went 
on.  This man, who believed very much in the 
"trust no one" theory relinquished that long held 
belief in order to give his son a normal life. 
"Maybe someone will screw us, Scully, but 
hopefully, not everyone." And when he was through,  
Mulder backed off--completely. He didn't even want 
to hear rumors of progress or defeat in the cause. 
She didn't know how he managed to squelch his 
rampant curiosity, but he did. 

Mulder poked her cheek with his nose.

"Hey."

She snapped out of her musings.

"What? I'm sorry. I was thinking."

"I was trying to follow my German-named 
counterpart and make out with my own Ruby on the 
couch and you go off in a daze. I think I'm highly 
insulted. Maybe I have to write in another woman 
to piss you off a bit."

Scully smiled at him and pulled his face to hers.

"You do and I will erase her from your hard 
drive."

"Sounds painful."

"It will be."

"You're not going to tell me what's wrong, are 
you?"

"Not now. I can't. You know that."

"Yes, I know. I've heard it all before. I can't be 
a part of it because you can't leave it behind 
then. Very logical. But I am your best friend. You 
can't change that."

"No. And I wouldn't want to. But I just need to 
work out some things on my own."

"Well, you do know where I live."

She put a hand up to his cheek and smoothed it 
over his five o'clock shadow.

"Yes, I do."

(End of Part 1)
Circular File
Part 2 (of 3)

She didn't necessarily know what she wanted to do 
about the idiotic office pool. She had almost 
always handled the idiocies of office politics by 
ignoring them but this time, they had stepped 
quite a bit over the line. She let a week go by 
and a brief idea presented itself as a possible 
solution but she wasn't sure if she wanted to go 
through with it.

Mulder was in the kitchen while Scully was trying 
to disengage William's fingers from the tight hold 
they had on her hair.

"You--ouch--have some grip." She finally had some 
success and he settled for grabbing at the front 
buttons of her blouse. Like father; like son.

She looked at him. Such an adorable baby.

Something twisted inside of her. People were 
taking bets. Mocking him already. 

Like father; like son.

Mulder came out and watched the two of them for a 
few moments. 

"He has a little diaper rash, Scully. I put that 
disgusting fish smelling stuff on him.  Check him 
out later, okay?"

"Sure. It's Desitin, by the way. Not fish stuff."

"Take a good sniff and tell me there aren't 
anchovy parts in there somewhere."

She smiled and lightly bounced Will on her knee.

"Daddy has an odd sense of humor. You'll get used 
to it."

Mulder crossed the room and sat in the armchair 
across from them.

"So. . .are we getting close to a decision, 
Scully?"

"What?"

"The job offer? We have to give them an answer by 
the end of this week. Have you given it any 
thought?"

"Why am I the ultimate decision maker in this 
case, Mulder?"

"Because--you have something to leave. I don't."

She let out a breath of air. 

"I'm not sure how you could--do what you did."

He leaned forward a bit.

"Are you, at long last, taking me to task over 
getting fired or you just want to hear the reasons 
behind my lack of separation anxiety? Want to make 
sure we're on the same page before I go spilling 
my guts here."

"I. . .understand why you were fired. And why you 
did what you did before you got fired. That's not 
an issue. I just don't understand how you could 
let it all go without a second glance back."

"Maybe because, for the first time in my life, I 
wasn't looking in that direction. I was looking 
ahead of me."

"And I'm not?"

"I don't know, Scully. You tell me."

"I can't. I don't know the answer to that. I just 
know--as much as I hate it, I feel compelled to 
stay."

"Then we'll stay."

"Mulder. . .you want this job."

"Yes, I do. But if you don't or if you aren't 
ready--forget it. I'm not taking off without you, 
if that's what you're getting at. You'll have to 
throw me out bodily if you want to get rid of me. 
And even then, I can't promise I won't come back 
for more."

"I. . .this job. . . is frivolous, you know. It's 
a vanity course."

"Frivolous? Is the job you did for 8 years--the 
one you are agonizing over leaving--frivolous?"

"Oh, come on, Mulder. The job was serious but the 
course is bullshit. It's--what? The equivalent of 
taking shop or something."

"I don�t agree with that at all."

"What? We're teaching them what? That class will 
be full of UFO crackpots or kids who want an easy 
A with no studying."

"At the very least, we're teaching them that there 
is more than one way to think, Scully. To show 
what can be accomplished when two people--with 
opposing viewpoints and ways of thinking open 
their minds to possibilities. Tell me that's not 
an important life lesson.

Face it, Scully. They gave you power when you 
walked into that basement and encouraged you to 
use it--freely. They wanted you to shut me down. 
And you could have done it right off the bat. Come 
in and given them clear, cogent, scientifically 
based arguments against the theories I was trying 
so hard to prove. But, even if you thought I was 
nuts. . .even if you thought I was full of shit--
you went with me for the ride and sometimes--you 
proved your theory right and sometimes--things you 
discovered surprised you. We learned from each 
other--and we accomplished--a lot. Don't think I 
don't know that. We accomplished it by being--
reasonably--open. At least to each other. Kids in 
school don't necessarily have that skill yet. 
Don't even consider it a skill. They know what 
they know and that's all that's worth knowing. The 
end.  This is a sort of pleasant way of slipping 
that knowledge in their minds before they set 
their opinions in stone. I think that's very 
important. Or did all of your schooling consist of 
dry courses?"

"I don't want to fight about it, Mulder."

"We're not fighting. We're discussing. And, 
frankly, I told you we didn't even have to discuss 
it. You don't want to do this. That's fine. You 
wanted to get ahead in the FBI. That was a fact. 
You told me so yourself a long time ago. So. . 
.you can still do it. You can overcome whatever 
bullshit they're throwing your way."

"What bullshit is that, Mulder?"

"I don't know. Flack over having Spooky Mulder's 
child? I'm assuming that might have something to 
do with it. You never confirmed their suspicions 
and never have to. Sooner or later, your work will 
speak for you again. A more juicy "scandal" will 
replace your little mystery and since I'm not 
there to walk the halls. . .they'll forget soon 
enough."

She stared at him for a moment. 

She had never not wanted to address the issue of 
paternity. No one asked. They were afraid to. And 
how could she just come out and tell anyone 
without the issue being raised? A general 
announcement in the cafeteria? With all the other 
things happening around her, it was hard enough to 
walk  those halls alone. Her entire being felt 
like an open wound with everyone tossing grains of 
salt at her. She didn't want the grains to turn 
into handfuls. It was all too much at the time. 

Sometimes, it still felt like too much. 

She didn't like that it was all her choice. And 
she definitely didn't like the fact that Mulder 
was lying down and playing dead over the issue. 
She winced. Really bad choice of thoughts. He 
deferred to her and what he perceived to be her 
professional development when it came to any 
thought of  a public acknowledgment of his 
parental status. That was just plain wrong. They 
made this baby. They were going to do it 
"clinically," but that certainly isn't the way it 
turned out. And he had always wanted to be part of 
William's life no matter how he came into being. 
Being "allowed" that was a privilege in his mind; 
not a right. That had to end. He was the baby's 
father. Pure and simple. She wasn't doing him any 
favors by allowing him to take a natural role in 
his son's life. And she wasn't doing anyone else 
any favors by continuing to stay in a toxic 
environment where they couldn't possibly be a 
normal couple with a baby. Ever.

William was lifting his fist, her button now off 
her blouse and en route to his drooling mouth. She 
pulled it out of his hand and he began to protest 
but quickly stopped as Scully stood up and handed 
him to Mulder. He immediately  held Will close to 
his face and quietly stroked the child's back. 
Scully left the room in silence. She needed time 
to think. She needed time to plan. 


They were all assembled around the conference 
table. Creative bookkeeping couldn't solve some of 
the problems that appeared in the past year's 
budget. Explanations had to be given. Even Agent 
Scully had to attend to justify costs that were 
incurred during her time with the X-file division. 
She entered the conference room and some people 
stopped talking and looked up at her and then, 
with small smiles or sidelong glances, resumed 
their rapt attention of the closed files in front 
of them. 

But Agent Scully did not sit down.

She stood at the head of the table and placed a 
file on it. An official file with the FBI insignia 
on its cover.

"May I have your attention, please?"

Startled glances greeted her words.

"Thank you. Since you are all gathered in this 
room, I thought it was a good time to address 
something that has apparently taken up quite a few 
official man-hours. Since this is a budget 
meeting, what better place to make sure the FBI's 
precious resources are conserved." She cleared her 
throat and stood even straighter.

"As some of you may know, I had a child seven 
months ago."

Several agents hid smiles until she opened up the 
folder in front of her.

"'Kid's Legal Last Name,'" she read as the 
assembled agents began to shift uncomfortably in 
their chairs and look at the door, in fear of the 
Assistant Director walking in at that moment. "My 
child's name is William F. Mulder. He was born 7 
pounds, 6 ounces and was 20 inches tall. He's 
grown a bit since then. This is really the only 
information I feel like sharing voluntarily.

If, however, you feel you cannot live without 
further details of my personal life, or that of my 
family--now would be the time to ask any 
questions."

Scully stood and looked from face to face. Each 
one looked down or at someone else.

"No? Then I trust this matter is resolved. Because 
if it isn't, we should probably not waste any more 
time and 'cut to the chase.' I am fully prepared 
to file complaints against each and every one of 
you at this point in time. I will not tolerate any 
covert attempts at obtaining personal information-
-either now or in the future."

"All right, then."

They were all about to give a collective sigh of 
relief at the ending of her speech when she 
stopped herself while closing the file in front of 
her.

"Oh--one more thing. Agent Watkins, Agent 
Dobrenitz--for future reference--while it may have 
made for some humorous reading, given the level of 
material for which you seem to have a preference--
it's probably not a sensible thing to scan your 
pool submissions into the computer with the 
participants' names fully intact. Some might 
consider that rather damning evidence."

She fanned out the numerous pages in the file 
before straightening them back into a neat pile 
and finally closing the folder.

"That's all for now. Thank you for listening."

She sat down and quietly waited for AD Skinner to 
come in and the meeting to start. Once started, 
the meeting was over in record time with all the 
agents fully concentrating on the business at hand 
and studiously avoiding Scully's never-wavering 
gaze.

When it was over, Scully walked to the trashcan 
and unceremoniously dumped the file and its 
contents.

(End of Part 2)


Circular File
Part 3 of 3

Scully knocked on the door of the basement office. 
After a moment, she used her key. No one had 
bothered to ask her for it. She would give it to 
Doggett or Reyes on her way out.

For the moment, she just wanted to sit in the 
office alone. The scream that only she could hear 
was silent. It ceased the moment she handed over 
her last official FBI file.

The office was barely recognizable as the one she 
and Mulder had shared for so long. A fresh coat of 
paint, rearrangement of furniture. And plants. 
Lots of plants. A Reyes touch. Only Mulder's 
poster remained. A silent, bizarre tribute to the 
"old guard."

The door opened and Doggett walked in--barely 
registering surprise over her presence in his 
office. He sat down on the edge of his desk.

"I heard about your little birth announcement at 
the budget meeting."

She gave a soft grunt of disapproval.

"Yes. That was about as professional as me 
throwing water in your face when we first met."

"Well, sometimes, you just have to screw 
professional."

She smiled and looked around at the much changed 
office.

"I hated when Mulder always referred to the X-
files as his and his alone. At the beginning, I 
understood it, certainly. He worked very hard to 
get the department recognized and acknowledged. 
How it was recognized. . .well, that was another 
story but. . .after we worked together for a 
while--he still did it. Kind of the way I 
sometimes refer to William. As my baby. And that's 
not some kind of subconscious payback. I just--had 
to go through so much at the beginning. By 
myself."

"You didn't have to go through it alone," Doggett 
said.

"I know you think that. I know Skinner thinks 
that. My mother thinks that. But, I did. I 
absolutely had to go through it by myself. 
Decisions had to be made that I felt were right. 
Whether they were or weren't. Ultimately, whatever 
happened with all of us--I could not go through my 
life feeling my choices were made by someone else. 
Yes, I took big chances but I couldn't lose either 
one of them. If others had been more involved--I 
sure as hell would have lost Mulder. You know I 
would have. And William--before I even knew he was 
a William--well, he was mine, too. Mine to take 
care of and see through the whole ordeal. Mine to 
take ultimate responsibility for. I was just as 
possessive of him, I guess, as Mulder had been 
over the X-files--because--in the beginning of the 
life of both--it was all either of us had. When we 
suddenly had each other--or had each other again, 
in my case--well, we made an effort to share but 
it isn't always easy when you get right down to 
it."

"Then I guess the changing of the guard must be 
killing you, huh?"

"Well, it's difficult. But they are your x-files 
now. Yours and Reyes'. Mulder--well, he gave them 
up by default and I gave them up through a 
voluntary decision. But it wasn't really voluntary 
at all. I don't want to do this without him. 
Frankly, I don't want to be here--in any capacity-
-without Mulder. I felt I had to come back after 
maternity leave. I'm so sick of him being a joke. 
Even in death--people were too busy speculating 
whether he was really in the coffin to come and 
pay respects to one of their own. I wanted 
somehow--in whatever capacity--to prove him right 
and get him the respect he always deserved."

"You want the respect of people who would take 
bets over a child?"

Scully took a deep breath and stood up. She walked 
over to Mulder's "I Want to Believe" poster and 
gently touched its fraying edges.

"Promise me something, John?"

"Sure."

"No matter how ratty this gets--always keep it up 
here?"

"Gladly."

"Good. Then we both received the only respect that 
matters."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Scully walked into her darkened apartment and 
looked around.



She smiled softly as she approached the couch 
where Mulder was sleeping with a softly snoring 
baby on his chest. Both of them were soaking wet. 
She touched the baby's forehead. No fever.

"Way to go, Daddy," she whispered.

For a moment, she debated over picking Will up and 
taking him to his crib but rejected the idea. It 
had already been a rough day. She didn't want 
getting shot added  to her list of stressors. 
Separating Mulder from his child without warning 
was a suicidal move--even from her.

She quickly removed her shoes instead and added 
one article of clothing at a time to the discard 
pile until she reached the bathtub. She got in 
after only an inch of water had accumulated and 
laid back to watch it fill with water and jasmine 
scented bubbles.

"Want me to wash your back?" Mulder asked as he 
sat on the closed seat of the toilet. He looked 
tired and his hair was still slick from the 
perspiration of a feverish child. 

"Come here, Mulder," she dunked a washcloth in the 
bath water and wrung it out.

He lifted himself off the toilet to kneel in front 
of the tub. She gently wiped the sweat off his 
brow and neck.

"I see Will's fever broke."

"Yeah. A little while ago. Damned tooth. I think 
the crying was non-stop for about an hour and a 
half. Not even Blues Clues calmed the poor guy 
down."

"Poor baby. Poor Mulder." She dipped the cloth 
under water again as Mulder rested his head 
against his elbow and yawned. She faked a move to 
stuff the cloth in his wide open mouth and he 
laughed gently.

"I didn't get to write your story today, Scully."

"Oh. That's all right. Maybe we can do something 
tonight that will inspire an even more passionate 
adventure than Ruby and the Fox's backseat 
banging."

"Scully! Such language."

"Such a scene. Good thing I didn't take that to 
work with me."

"Oh, I don't know, It might have spiced up your 
day  a bit."

She let out a huff of laughter.

"Believe me. It did not need any more 'spice' 
today."

"Oh? Should I be worried?"

"Oh, yeah. Very worried."

"Who is he? I'll kill him."

"Not him, hon. Me. You will be seeing a lot more 
of me."

He lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"I--um--told off a room full of people and went 
around looking at things one last time and--well--
I handed in my notice. So--U Mass is a go, buddy."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Molding young minds--very important 
work, you know."

"Who'd you tell off? And why?"

He didn't look sleepy anymore. He was wide awake 
and wanted answers.

She touched his face.

"When we are all settled in--far, far away from 
DC--in a lovely, small house with a glowing 
fireplace and 2 1/2 baths--maybe--one day--when 
you're in a very, very good mood--I'll tell you."

"That bad?"

"Worse."

He gripped the side of the tub and stood up with a 
groan. Then, he leaned over and kissed her on the 
forehead.



She reached up and grabbed both of his arms and 
pulled him toward her. He lost his balance,threw 
his left arm out against the tiled wall and landed 
with one leg in the tub between both of Scully's 
and one leg half out of the tub in a hovering, 
splayed out while doing pushups kind of position.

"Mulder! God! I'm sorry. It--was a lot sexier in 
my mind than it turned out."

"I think you sprained my penis, Scully. And not in 
a good way."

She giggled and put a hand to his chest as he 
valiantly tried not to let his hand slip.

"Get up, Mulder."

"Nope."

"No?"

"No, Scully. I--you're going to have to slide up 
and out from under me. If I slip--well, you'll end 
up getting your first knee to the groin and I 
don't think it's pleasant for women, either."

She laughed again and slowly backed up until she 
was at the end of the tub, twisted a bit and then 
stood up. Mulder let his hands go and fell into 
the water. He then twisted his body and stood up.

"How's the sprain?" Scully asked--reaching out and 
unzipping his pants.

"Um--it's fine but Scully�"

"I'm just saving you from the discomfort of wet 
jeans, Mulder. It's nothing personal. We'll save 
that for later, okay?"

"Fine by me."

"But," she pulled him by his open waistband, "I do 
want a proper kiss. No foreheads involved."

He put his arms around her wet, naked body and 
pulled her up against him.

"Good start?" he asked.

"Great start."

He pressed his mouth against hers and was sliding 
his tongue past her lips when she pulled his pants 
down over his behind.

"Hey," he said, still kissing, "I thought we were 
waiting."

"Comfort, Mulder."

"Mmmm. . .comfort."

Hours later, when William was finally down for the 
evening--or his 2 AM feeding, whichever came 
first; when comfort went beyond kissing and a 
naked grope or two--Scully lay in the darkness 
with Mulder softly breathing behind her--his face 
snuggled into the crook of her neck.

She made the right decision. They had a chance to 
be happy. At the very least, they owed it to their 
son. And, frankly, they owed it to themselves. 
They earned their happiness.

"Please come to Boston to live forever. . ." 
Mulder crooned in her ear. Scully groaned.

"Oh, God, Mulder. I hate to tell you this but if 
you sing inane old songs from the 80's which will 
keep me up half the night trying to remember the 
lyrics of-I'm going to have to kick you out of 
bed."

"Will loves when I sing to him."

"Will is too young to tell you to shut up."

He wrapped his arms even more tightly around her 
waist.

"I'm happy about your resignation, Scully. That 
ship, as they say, has sailed. But are you sure 
about the new job?"

"No. No, I'm not, Mulder. But it's an adventure. 
And we're doing it together. I think we have a 
pretty good track record with our joint endeavors, 
don't you?"

He softly kissed her shoulder in response.

Before she drifted off to sleep she reminded 
herself to ask Mulder about getting colored 
folders. New, crisp folders for their new  student 
files. Files filled with possibilities. Files 
filled with life.

The End

Author's Note:
U Mass actually offered a course in the X-files so 
it was given the distinction of being Mulder and 
Scully's future job location.
I know I thanked her in my opening notes but 
Christina has done beta reading duties on almost 
all my stories and this one wasn't even quite 
finished when she started asking about it. It gave 
me just the right "push" to complete what was an 
annoyingly difficult story to complete. I'd like 
to thank her for her support and her friendship.
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