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Title:       The Return
Rating:	     PG
Author:	     Lovesfox
E-mail:	     lovesfox@rogers.com
Category:    Post-Requiem, Story, MSR
Summary:     Mulder returns to discover Scully is pregnant with his 
             child
Spoilers:    Requiem
Disclaimer:  The X-Files, Agent Mulder, Agent Scully and company 
             belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.  I mean 
             them no harm.





The Return

Mulder's Apartment Building
Alexandria, VA 

The elevator doors opened and Scully stepped out, heading down the 
hallway. She raised her right hand, casually fixing her wind-tousled 
hair before it drifted unconsciously to her burgeoning belly. It rested 
briefly, caressingly, before sliding away. 

As she approached the door to Mulder's apartment, her hand searching 
the pocket of her trench coat for her keys, she wondered idly to 
herself if anyone had checked on Mulder's apartment in the week she had 
been away. She stopped in front of his door, flicking through the keys 
for the right one. Finding the key, she lifted it towards the lock and 
was surprised when the door opened on its own. Her hand holding the 
keys hung momentarily in the air as her brain tried to register what 
her eyes were seeing. The keys dropped to the floor with a loud clunk, 
and Scully jumped in startled reaction. The tall, dark-haired woman 
blocking the doorway smiled briefly, enjoying Scully's shock. 

It was that shock that stopped Scully from registering the anger and 
shock in the woman's own eyes as they flickered down to Scully's 
expanding waistline, poking out from her opened trench coat. 

"Agent...Fowley...?" Scully almost stuttered, still staring 
unbelievingly at the woman she had thought dead for some time.
 
Scully's eyes swept Diana Fowley's figure, noting the relaxed and 
casual atmosphere in which Fowley stood at the doorway of Mulder's 
apartment. "But...how?" she asked faintly, one hand supporting herself 
on the doorjamb.
 
"Things are not always as they seem, " Diana Fowley answered, her hand 
gently stroking the opened collar of her silk blouse. 

Scully's attention was immediately drawn there, as Diana had intended. 
A glint of gold from the chain around Diana's neck made Scully's blue 
eyes widen. Was that...her cross?

Diana Fowley stepped back slightly from the doorway at a sound from 
inside, and Scully's view of the apartment widened fractionally. Her 
cross was immediately forgotten as she stared in shocked disbelief. Her 
missing partner stood there, a thick white towel wrapped around the 
waist of his obviously nude body. It was evident he was fresh from the 
shower, wet droplets glistening on his chest as one hand scrubbed 
through his spiked hair. 

Pain knifed through her heart and a small sound escaped Scully's throat 
as she stumbled backward, her hands clutching her coat protectively 
over her stomach. 

At that small sound from Scully, Mulder looked towards the door, seeing 
Diana standing there, an odd expression on her face, and...Scully. He 
took a step towards her, his hand reaching out, and stopped in surprise 
as she backed further from the doorway, bending to scoop something at 
her feet and turned away. His stumbling steps took him past Diana to 
the open door, the faint sounds of Scully's retreat down the hallway in 
his ears.

Diana moved further back into the apartment, still toying with 
something at her neck, as Mulder stood in the doorway, watching the 
elevator door close on the one person he had waited so long to see 
again.

Realizing he stood in the open doorway in only a towel, Mulder took a 
step back into his apartment, slowly shutting the door. His palm rested 
on its smooth surface as he stared uncomprehendingly into space. Diana 
shifted behind him, a silky sound rustling in his ears. His head came 
up and his gaze was caught by the reflected image of Diana in the glass 
picture on the wall by the door. She was...smirking, her hand fiddling 
at her neck.
 
Mulder whirled suddenly, surprising Diana, whose features immediately 
settled into a concerned look. He strode towards her, anger tightening 
his face, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the object she had been 
toying with about her neck. Scully's cross. The cross he had worn for 
what seemed like an eternity away from her. The cross he had just taken 
off in order to shower. The cross he had thought he had imagined as he 
stood in the bathroom staring at the counter where it had rested.

"Scully", Mulder thought. He strode quickly away from Diana into his 
bedroom, flinging the towel aside. He hurriedly drew on track pants and 
a tee shirt, his eyes searching the surprisingly tidy room for his 
running shoes. An absurd thought ran through is head, "Did Scully clean 
up for me??" He spied the runners neatly in the corner by his bureau 
and quickly shoved his feet inside them. 

Mulder grabbed his black leather jacket off the bedroom doorknob and 
raced past a silent Diana. He flung open the door and ran down the 
hallway, leaving the door wide open. His finger jabbed impatiently at 
the elevator button, and for once, it opened almost immediately. Once 
inside he stared fixedly at the floor numbers, whispering, "Come on, 
come on." He pushed through the elevator doors before they completely 
opened, nearly knocking over the elderly woman waiting there.

Mulder shouted an apology over his shoulder, fairly certain the old 
lady had flipped him the bird. He raced through the lobby and out the 
door, shrugging into his jacket as he went. He hesitated at the steps 
outside, head turning quickly, frantically scanning for Scully's 
beautiful red hair. He spotted her a few hundred yards away, 
approaching her car.

"Scully, " he shouted. "Wait." He began sprinting towards her.
 
At the sound of her name, Scully's head whipped up and around. She 
frantically jabbed her keys at the car lock and yanked the door open.  
A sudden gust of wind flared her trench coat open and Scully awkwardly 
flapped it closed around her belly as she struggled to get herself 
quickly into the car. She slammed the door, started the car and sped 
away. 

Mulder stood stock still, staring at Scully's car rapidly driving away. 
He was in shock. Why had she raced away? 

She had seemed distraught, her face pale. She had looked differently 
somehow, her body fuller...almost like she was pregnant. He shook his 
head sadly, knowing that could never be possible. 

Mulder turned around and went back inside. He had questions for Diana.

Mulder walked through his still open doorway, gently shutting the door 
behind him. The apartment seemed empty and still. He advanced further, 
eyes scanning the room, but Diana Fowley was gone. He walked over to 
his desk to look out the window but his gaze was caught by something 
shiny that lay there. He picked it up, Scully's cross dangling from his 
fingers. His hand squeezed tight and he held it to his heart for a 
moment before slipping it carefully into the inner pocket of his 
jacket. He stood there in the silent apartment, just looking, realizing 
it had been some time since he had been there last.
 
Everything was the same as he had left it, except maybe a little 
cleaner. His basketball was there on the desk by the phone and he 
picked it up, twirling it experimentally in his hands before dribbling 
it briefly. He tossed it in the general direction of the couch where it 
bounced on the floor before rolling to a stop.
 
A sudden thought popped in his head. "What day is it?" He grabbed the 
remote for the TV and clicked it on, flipping for a news channel. He 
stared in stunned disbelief. He had been gone months. Was that why 
Scully had reacted so oddly?

At the thought of Scully, Mulder's gaze was drawn back to the phone. He 
picked it up and quickly dialed Scully's cell phone number, thinking to 
himself how long it had been since he had been able to do that. He 
listened to the ringing for a few moments before pressing the 
disconnect button. He dialed Scully's home number and her machine 
immediately came on. At the beep he said, "Scully, it's me. Pick up." 
Sighing, he realized he would not be able to reach her by phone. He 
hung up the receiver and thought, where would she go? He paced for a 
moment. Work. He quickly strode into his bedroom and changed his 
clothes. He put his leather jacket back on and checked his pocket. He 
patted it gently, Scully's cross was safe. He left the apartment.



Outside Mulder's Apartment Building
Alexandria, VA
 
Diana Fowley sat in her car, a small sedan, parked down the street from 
Mulder's apartment building. Dark sunglasses shaded her eyes as she 
stared fixedly at the front entrance waiting for him to emerge. She 
knew he would, as well as she knew her Fox. And he was still HER Fox, 
even if all her attempts to entice him back had failed. She smacked the 
steering wheel suddenly with the palm of her hand, thinking, or entice 
him away from Scully. Damn that woman, why did she have to show up? A 
few more minutes and they would have been gone like they had never been 
there. 

Diana didn't know what Fox saw in Dana Scully. She was attractive, she 
supposed, but so uptight and rigid in her scientific beliefs. So 
unsuited for a man like her Fox. And yet, he defended her and protected 
her. Diana suddenly remembered the bulge of Scully's belly. THAT had 
been a shock. Wasn't the woman barren? Had someone, and CGB Spender's 
name immediately came to mind, done something to reverse what was 
thought to be irreversible? 

Diana's eyes narrowed and she clenched the steering wheel tightly, 
knuckles whitening. Could Fox be the father? Her teeth ground together 
at the thought. 

Her attention was caught by movement at the front entrance. Mulder 
strode directly to the apartment building's parking lot, looking 
neither right nor left, purpose in every step. 

Diana watched as he climbed into his car, dirty and leaf-strewn, and 
drove out of the lot. She started her own car and slowly followed.

A few minutes later another sedan pulled away from the line of cars 
parked in front of Mulder's apartment building and went in the 
direction of Diana Fowley's receding car. 

Alex Krycek adjusted the rim of his baseball cap and accelerated 
slightly in order to pull within a few car lengths of Fowley, thinking 
of what had transpired. 

He had followed Agent Scully to Mulder's apartment earlier, in what had 
been a routine check of her activities, carried out periodically over 
the past few months.
 
A small smile crept over his face at the surprising turn of events. 

He had been preparing to follow Scully as she left the apartment 
building when he had been startled by the appearance of Mulder a few 
minutes later. He had decided to remain at Mulder's building after 
Scully had driven hastily away, seemingly intent in escaping Mulder, 
knowing he could easily find her again at any time. 

He had been shocked yet again when the supposedly dead Diana Fowley, 
whom he had obviously underestimated, came around the side of the 
building and strode quickly to a small gray, sedan parked several cars 
in front of his own. He had then settled in to see what next unfolded.


FBI Headquarters
Washington, D.C. 

Mulder strode briskly through the quiet hallways, barely registering 
the few faces that glanced at him in surprise, and down to the basement 
to his office. The door was closed. He reached out and tried the knob. 
It was unlocked and the door opened with a small creak. He stepped 
inside the unlit room. It smelled slightly musty and stale. 

His office too seemed the same, neater than he normally kept it. He 
smiled faintly to himself, recognizing Scully's handiwork. She had 
always been after him to straighten his files and sort through the many 
years worth of accumulations. 

There was a slight layer of dust on the top of the desk and filing 
cabinets and he frowned to himself as he ran his finger through it. Had 
Scully been there at all recently? 

He looked around, but other than what he thought was Scully's pen lying 
on the desk by the phone, there was no sign of an occupant. He left his 
office, closing the door behind him, and strode to the elevator.

Assistant Director Walter Skinner's Office
FBI Headquarters

Mulder stepped into A.D. Skinner's office reception area. Skinner' 
secretary was still at her desk and appeared to be cleaning up for the 
evening. She looked up at the sound and her mouth dropped open. "Agent 
Mulder, " she gasped, her hands theatrically at her throat. 

"Is he in?" Mulder asked and continued past without waiting for an 
answer. Skinner's door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open and stepped 
through as he had so many times before.
 
A.D. Skinner was at his desk, reading a report of some kind.
 
Mulder stood silently just inside the door, his eyes taking in the 
room. He didn't know why he kept expecting things to have changed, but 
it seemed surprising that they hadn't, considering the length of time 
he had been gone. He advanced further, clearing his throat. 

Skinner's head came up at the intrusion, an angry retort on his lips. 
It quickly died, and Skinner was rendered speechless, his mouth open 
with surprise.
 
Mulder had a brief moment of satisfaction at seeing Skinner absolutely 
floored. He had always seemed so rigid, his emotions so contained. 
Mulder was sure he could count the times he had seen the assistant 
director's composure blown on one hand, if that. 

Skinner got up and quickly came from behind his desk. "Agent Mulder!" 
he exclaimed. He seemed to want to embrace Mulder but held back, 
instead briefly clasping the younger man's shoulder. "When did 
you...how did...why wasn't I notified?" he demanded. Skinner's hands 
were on his hips, biceps flexing through his crisp white dress shirt. 
He radiated contained energy, his facial features tensing, a tiny 
muscle in his cheek twitching.

"Sir?" Mulder asked, puzzled. Skinner didn't seem to know that he had 
returned. Did that mean Scully hadn't known either? He sat down 
suddenly, unconsciously in his usual chair, drained. He leaned forward, 
his head in his hands. 

A.D. Skinner leaned his backside against his desk, staring at Mulder. 
"Agent..." he began, his hand loosening the tie at his throat slightly. 
"Are you unaware..." he started to say and then shook his head briefly. 
"Are you alright?" he asked instead, the concern clearly in his voice. 

Mulder looked up slowly. "Physically...I'm fine, sir. I think, "  he 
answered. His hand rubbed over his mouth and chin as he wondered, am I? 
He sighed and then asked, "Sir, was my reappearance not reported to 
anyone?" 

"The first indication I had of your return was the instant I looked up 
and saw you standing there, " Skinner replied, nodding towards his 
doorway. "There have been no official notifications of any kind. And 
believe me, we check with the Bellefleur police and the local FBI field 
office on a daily basis." This last was said with emphasis. "If there 
has been some kind of screw-up..." 

Mulder interrupted, "Sir, I don't think there was a screw-up. I believe 
hiding my reappearance was deliberate. The Cigarette Smoking Man..."
 
It was Skinner's turn to interrupt, "Agent Mulder, the Smoking Man is 
dead."

Mulder was stunned by the news. On the drive to the FBI building he had 
become convinced  The Cigarette Smoking Man was somehow involved with 
Diana Fowley and his return. "Did you see the body?" he asked. "Was it 
cremated?" 

A.D. Skinner appeared surprised at the questions. "Well...no, actually, 
I didn't see the body. It was Krycek who delivered the news." 

Mulder's face said it all. There was definitely no love lost between 
Krycek and Mulder, and he had betrayed them before. 

Mulder sat up a little straighter in his chair. "Sir, I woke up in what 
must have been a private clinic in a hospital like setting one week 
ago. I was told I had been found in the woods in Oregon and was there 
to undergo an examination to ensure I had not been injured."
 
"Told by whom, Agent Mulder?" Skinner asked, leaning forward, focused 
intently on Mulder. 

"Diana Fowley, sir, " Mulder replied, easing back into his chair, 
waiting for Skinner's reaction. He did not have to wait long.
 
Skinner's face tightened and he blinked several times before replying, 
"Agent Mulder, you are aware that Agent Fowley was killed some time 
ago?" 

For all the sadness and confusion in his heart, Mulder still had his 
quirky, and occasionally somewhat inappropriate sense of humor. He 
smiled self-depreciatingly, and mock whispered, "I know, sir...I see 
dead people." 

Skinner blinked and shook his head a little. He chose to ignore 
Mulder's comment and instead asked, "You said a week ago, Agent Mulder. 
What took so long to come back here?" 

Mulder shook his own head, puzzlement on his features. "I don't know," 
he answered slowly, his eyes unfocused. "I believe I might have been 
drugged. I remember...driving... and staring out a window at the stars 
in the sky. That's all." His whole body shuddered with a sudden cold 
feeling.

Mulder stood up suddenly. "I understand you have a lot of questions, 
sir. I don't think I have the answers." He took a deep breath and said, 
"I actually came here looking for Agent Scully." 

At Scully's name, Skinner himself stood up and moved over behind his 
desk to look out the window, his hands on his hips. He was silent for a 
long moment before turning back to Mulder. "Agent Scully was away the 
past week...on a leave...for a little vacation."
 
Mulder frowned before answering, "Well she must be back because she was 
at my apartment not too long ago." He did not add the part about her 
running away from him. 

Mulder could not read Skinner's face. He stood there staring just over 
Mulder's shoulder and Mulder had the feeling Skinner was trying to find 
the words to tell him something but was unable. "Sir, what is it?" he 
asked urgently. "Is something wrong with Agent Scully?" 

Skinner finally looked him in the eyes, as he replied, "No, Agent 
Mulder. There's nothing...wrong. She's...um...she's fine." 

Again Mulder had the feeling that Skinner was not relating everything, 
but knew he could not push the man into telling him. "Well, I have to 
find her, " he declared, stepping towards the door. "I have to..." his 
voice trailed off as Skinner came around from behind his desk. Mulder 
stopped, not far from the door. 

"I understand, Agent Mulder," Skinner said. Again he hesitated before 
speaking further. "Just..." 

Mulder raised his eyebrows, silently urging Skinner on. 

Skinner shook his head slightly, as if arguing with himself, before 
finally replying, "Just...be gentle with her." After saying that, he 
moved back to his desk and sat down, picking up the discarded report 
from earlier. 

Although he was now confused and worried, Mulder knew that this was his 
dismissal and he also knew that was as much as he would get from A.D. 
Skinner. "Thank-you, sir." he said gently, and left the office.


Margaret Scully's Residence 
Baltimore, MD

Scully let herself in the front door slowly, calling, "Mom? It's 
Dana," as she stepped into the foyer. She shrugged out of her coat and 
dropped it on the deacon's bench to the side.
 
Margaret Scully came down the hallway from the back of the house. 
"Dana, honey, " she was saying but stopped when she saw her daughter. 
Dana's blue eyes were red-rimmed from crying and she looked exhausted. 
"Oh, Dana, baby, what's wrong?" she asked instead. She walked quickly 
to her daughter and pulled her into a gentle hug, stroking her hair. 

Scully only shook her head as the tears began again. "It's nothing, 
Mom, " she choked out, unable to tell her mother what had disturbed her 
so. 

Her mother gently took her hand, saying, "Come on baby, let me get you 
some tea."
 
Scully allowed herself to be towed like a child down the hall to the 
kitchen, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Her mother helped into a 
chair at the table and Scully sat gratefully as Maggie bustled about 
the kitchen making tea and toast as she chatted quietly about inane 
things.
 
Her mother's chatter was a muted sound in her ears as she sat there and 
thought. Her mind had been in such turmoil after leaving Mulder's 
apartment, unable to think clearly. The shock of seeing Mulder again 
after months of wondering and waiting, combined with, and she admitted 
it quietly to herself, jealousy at the presence of Diana Fowley had 
been too much. She had driven aimlessly before coming here, seeking 
comfort.

The rattle of the tea tray startled Scully from her train of thought as 
her mother placed it on the table. She smiled weakly in thanks as 
Maggie sat down next to her, fussing with the tray.
 
Scully took a delicate china cup in her hands, cradling it as she 
lifted it towards her mouth. The warm aroma wafted past her nostrils, 
and she sighed, her eyes closing. 

Maggie lifted her own cup and sipped slowly, watching her daughter 
carefully. She stared at Dana's face, features that reminded her so 
much of her husband. And of Melissa. She shook her head slightly, not 
wanting to dwell on thoughts that were still able to bring tears to her 
eyes. She lifted her hand and stroked her daughter's hair.
 
Scully opened her eyes at the touch. She lifted her own hand to clasp 
her mother's and they rested on the table top, linked. The two women 
sat silently, sipping their tea. 

A yawn escaped Scully's mouth and she frowned in embarrassment, as her 
hand was too late to cover it. Her mother smiled in gentle amusement, 
saying, "Why don't you go upstairs and rest, baby?" 

"I think I will, Mom. Thank-you, " Scully replied, slowly lifting 
herself up from the table, her mother's helping hand at her elbow.

Scully wearily climbed the stairs, her steps heavy. She could feel her 
mother's eyes on her back, watching worriedly. She sighed as she went 
into the small guest bedroom. She knew her mother was concerned, but 
felt unable to alleviate those concerns. 

Scully sat on the side of the bed with another sigh. She reached out 
and turned on the small brass lamp on the night table. It added a nice 
warm glow to the cool, dark room. She stared at the faint light, 
unmoving. 

She had only nibbled at the toast her mother had made, her steadily 
growing appetite strangely subdued. Scully wondered musingly if the 
baby could sense her moods. She looked down at her pregnant belly, 
marveling at the life growing inside her. The miracle growing inside 
her, she corrected herself. Her hands cupped that miracle, rubbing 
gently. As if in response to its mother's touch, the baby kicked 
against her hands. She smiled softly and lay carefully down on her 
side, hands still holding her belly. Her eyes drifted shut, thinking of 
the baby and of the baby's father. Thinking of Mulder.

Slowly Scully's body relaxed as she slipped into slumber. Maggie came 
upstairs to check on her and gently covered her sleeping daughter with 
the wool blanket from the foot of the bed. Scully sighed and snuggled 
into the bed. Maggie watched for a moment, worried that she had 
disturbed Dana's sleep before tiptoeing from the room, partially 
closing the door behind her. She headed downstairs to tidy the kitchen. 

On the bed, Scully's eyes began to flicker behind closed eyelids as she 
slid deeper into a dream-filled sleep. 

< She lay in the hospital bed staring at the door through which A.D. 
Skinner had just left. His sorrow at losing Mulder touched her heart. 
She sighed, wiping remnants of tears from her eyes. Tears of joy at the 
unexpected life within her, and tears of loss and pain and fear. She 
turned her head towards the window and looked up into the sky. Mulder, 
are you up there?   she wondered. Her hand drifted to her still flat 
belly, to the tiny life growing inside her. You have to come back...to 
us...>

Scully shifted slightly in her sleep as she drifted into another dream. 

 

A small smile flitted across Scully's sleeping face. It slowly turned 
into a frown and she made a small sound of protest.
 
 

On the bed, tears rolled down Scully's face as she whimpered in 
distress.




FBI Underground Parking Garage 
Washington, D.C.

Mulder sat in the driver's seat of his car in the parking garage, his 
hand poised to turn the ignition key. A wave of weariness washed over 
him and his hand fell to his lap. He slumped into the seat, his head 
tipping back onto the headrest. He tried to think where Scully could 
have gone.
 
He had driven by her apartment on the way to the FBI building, but her 
car had not been there. He had also dialled both her cell and home 
number numerous times, to no avail. 

It hit him suddenly. Her mother. When Scully was really upset, that was 
where she went. 

He was energized now; he had a purpose. He sat up in the seat, started 
the car and backed out of his spot. Finding the car stuffy, he opened 
the window for some air. 

As he exited the parking garage, he did not register the sound of 
another car starting up, although there had been no one on the elevator 
down with him, nor anyone after.



Margaret Scully's Residence 
Baltimore, MD


Mulder stood at the front door, feet shuffling with his nervous tension 
as he waited for a response to his knock. 

A few seconds later he heard the sound of the lock disengaging and the 
door swung open to reveal Scully' mother.
 
She had a polite look on her face as she said, "Yes, can I..." Her 
voice faltered as she realized who stood there. 

Her brown eyes lit with joy as with a gasp she stepped closer and 
hugged him tightly. "Oh, Fox," she whispered. "She's missed you so."
 
Mulder's own arms came up slowly and then he was eagerly returning the 
hug. He was silent for a moment, relishing the comfort of her touch. 
"I've missed her too," he whispered back. "So very much." He leaned 
back and looked down so he could see her face. "Is she here?" he asked. 

She nodded, still smiling, and replied, "I'll take you to her."

Mrs. Scully led him upstairs and gently pushed open one of the doors 
revealing Scully lying asleep on a double bed. She lay on her right 
side facing a low- lit table lamp on the night table beside the bed. A 
patterned wool blanket covered her, clutched to her chest in both 
hands. 

Mulder stood silently in the doorway as Mrs. Scully retreated 
downstairs, watching her sleep, hesitating, unwilling to disturb her 
slumber. 

Finally he stepped into the room, absently pushing the door shut. It 
did not close all the way, the thick carpeting slowing its advance. He 
crept closer and knelt beside the bed. 

The lamp left part of Scully's face in shadow but as he leaned in, he 
could see the tiny frown line between her brows and the track of tears 
on one smooth cheek. Almost unconsciously he raised his hand slowly 
towards her face and his thumb gently traced the path along her cheek 
to her full bottom lip. It hovered before gently stroking there. 

At the touch of his thumb on her lip, Scully's eyes opened, slightly 
unfocused. They widened as they focused on his own hazel eyes staring 
intently at her. Her mouth parted into a surprised O as she scanned the 
features of his face. She brokenly whispered, "Mulder?" 

A quick flash of memory seared his brain. He was lying curled up on a 
small pallet-like platform in a dimly lit room, alone. He blinked and 
the image was gone, but he vaguely remembered lying in that same 
spot...on the ship?...many times hearing Scully's voice saying his name 
and seeing her face over and over in his mind. 

He knew these images had comforted him, kept him sane.
 
Mulder smiled softly at her, his hand dropping to his knee. "Hey, 
Scully," he whispered.

Scully sat up slowly, grimacing with discomfort, the blanket pooling at 
her waist. Her hands held it there protectively for a moment before 
they relaxed. She swiped one hand across her cheeks and fussed with her 
hair, avoiding Mulder's eyes. 

Mulder could sense the mental wall building up around her as she 
gathered herself together, hiding her feelings, her emotions. It 
saddened him. 

At a loss as to how to continue, he stood to hide his sudden 
nervousness. The motion startled Scully, who jumped a little, and he 
quickly moved to sit beside her on the bed. They sat in silence. 
Together, yet still apart. 

Mulder slowly reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled 
Scully's cross out. It glinted in the light, dangling from his fingers, 
as he held it out in supplication. "I wasn't alone, Scully, " he said

A tear welled in Scully's eye, hovering in her eyelashes before she 
blinked it away. It trembled there before slowly rolling down her cheek 
to splash on her clasped hands. She finally looked at Mulder, her eyes 
swimming with unshed tears, as his dear face staring earnestly at hers. 
"I'm so very glad, Mulder, " she said huskily. 

He smiled gently and leaned forward, holding the cross out. Scully 
tipped her head down, sweeping her hair aside with one hand. His 
fingers were warm and gentle on her neck as they fastened the clasp. He 
adjusted it carefully, one finger tracing along the golden chain to the 
cross before sliding away, still watching her. 

Scully stared down at her lap, her own hand lightly touching the cross 
for a moment. She inhaled deeply and slowly, gathering herself, before 
turning her head towards Mulder. "How?" she asked. 

He blinked in stunned surprise and looked away.

As Mulder stared at his feet, his head reeling with what he saw as her 
rejection of him, Scully mentally berated herself. 

She could sense Mulder's hurt at her cold response. That small part of 
her that always held back, that calmed and rationalized, had made her 
hesitate. A part of her, a big part of her, wanted to gather him in her 
arms and never let go. To hold him, and tell him all her fears. And her 
desires.  To tell him of her surprise and pleasure at learning that she 
carried a child, his child. To tell him of her heartache as each day 
passed and he did not return. To tell him of her suspicions that she 
was under surveillance. To tell him everything that had happened in her 
life since he was taken. 

Scully closed her eyes and took another deep, calming breath. She 
opened them again and slowly reached out with one trembling hand. She 
laid it gently on his clasped hands resting in his lap and Mulder 
turned to her, a tentative smile on his face, his eyes pleading. 

At that touch of her hand on his, the baby kicked vigorously, as if in 
approval. She let out a gasp, her hands instinctively clutching her 
belly. 

Mulder's look quickly turned to one of concern, a question forming on 
his lips. 

She smiled tremulously and taking one of his hands in hers, slowly 
placed it on her belly. The baby kicked again, and wonder filled 
Mulder's beautiful hazel eyes. She whispered, "Ours." 

Speechless, he stared into her eyes and she watched the emotions dance 
through his. Shock, joy, fear, pain -- they all pored forth. 

Mulder whispered, "Oh, Scully" as he slowly slipped off the bed and 
knelt at her feet. He carefully pulled the blanket from around her and 
placed it on the floor. Both hands came up to gently rest on the sides 
of her belly. He stared in awe at the evidence of the life growing 
within her before slowly lowering his head to rest his cheek there. His 
eyes drifted shut. 

Scully stared at his bent head, resting on their unborn child, her eyes 
shining. She lifted one hand and haltingly laid it on his head. She 
slowly stroked it through the silky softness of his hair.

They sat that way for long moments before Scully finally had to shift 
with discomfort, rolling her head from side to side to ease the 
stiffness in her neck. 

Mulder reluctantly stood, his knees creaking, and moved to sit back 
beside her on the bed. He unconsciously echoed her question of earlier, 
asking, "How?" as he gestured at her pregnant belly. 

Scully raised her eyebrows at him and he blushed, eyes closing briefly 
in embarrassment, before he mock glared at her. "I don't mean *how*. I 
know how...it...happens, but...I thought "   He hesitated, choosing 
words carefully, "you were unable, well...that you couldn't..." Again 
he paused, grimacing. "Help me here, Scully, you know what I mean!" he 
exclaimed finally. 

Scully giggled, and he smiled, for he loved that sound and he heard it 
so rarely. "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said, "but it just sounded funny to 
hear you asking how!" She playfully asked, "Should I tell you about the 
birds and the bees?" 

He shrugged sheepishly. 

She sobered quickly, looking down at her hands lying on her belly 
rubbing gentle circles. "To tell you the truth, Mulder," she said 
quietly, "I really don't know *how*." She hesitated before continuing, 
a small frown on her face. 

"Medical tests proved I was barren. This baby...this miracle, should 
not have been able to happen." 

Mulder did not know what to say and they sat in silence for a minute 
before Scully suddenly said, "I have had a lot of sleepless nights to 
think about this and..." 

Mulder grimaced again, thinking of Scully alone, of her having to raise 
their child alone. He was so thankful to have been returned, for 
whatever reason, so that would not have to happen. He refused to allow 
the thought that either one of them could be taken again. He shivered 
briefly with an eerie feeling. 

"I have come up with two possible conclusions," she continued, "both of 
which frighten me a great deal."

Scully shivered suddenly as well, her hand unconsciously drifting to 
the back of her neck to lightly touch the site of her implant. She 
spoke slowly, lost in thoughts, "This implant...in me...Mulder, we know 
so little of its technology. My cancer went into remission because of 
it. Could it somehow have reversed my infertility?" 

Mulder had no answer for her and could only shake his head slowly. "I 
truly dont know, Scully. I wish I did." He reached out and took her 
hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment before holding it on his thigh, 
loosely clasped in his. 

"It scares me, Mulder, to think of this technology, whether it is human 
or alien, inside my body, " she said quietly, with another small 
shiver. 

"I know it does, Scully," he said, giving her hand another gentle 
squeeze before releasing it and putting his arm around her shoulders. 
He lightly rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "It scares me too, but 
we have to accept the fact that it is there and should not be removed, 
and that some day we will know the truth...of its existence, and of its 
technology." 

"But how?" she asked quietly, her eyes somber. 

Mulder and Scully both knew her question was rhetorical. Neither of 
them had the answers, nor were they likely to find them any time soon. 
Their most knowledgeable source on the implant was supposedly dead, 
although Mulder had his doubts as to the validity of that claim. 

Scully sighed deeply and then rubbed her eyes tiredly. She had found 
lately in this stage of her pregnancy that although she had a lot more 
energy, by the end of the day she was exhausted. She smothered a yawn 
and spoke again. 

"Unfortunately my other conclusion, such as it is, is also one that we 
cannot prove or disprove, and may never be able to." 

Intrigued in spite of the circumstances, Mulder crooked an eyebrow, 
waiting for her to continue. His one hand continued to stroke up and 
down Scully's arm. The contact comforted him, as it also did Scully. 

"Mulder, when I was in Africa, trying to find a cure for you..." and 
here she frowned a little, remembering her fear and desperation at that 
time, and her concern at his condition. "...a great deal of 
unexplained...well, phenomenon occurred. We learned so little from that 
ship and now I wonder if what Dr. Barnes said was true--that the ship 
did bring those fish back to life." She turned to look in Mulder's 
eyes, her own were wide and slightly desperate. 

"Maybe that ship had regenerative powers, Mulder, and they somehow 
worked on me?" Her voice rose a little at the end, slightly hysterical. 

"Ssshhh, it's okay," Mulder whispered as he put his other arm around 
her and pulled her into his chest in an awkward hug. "It's okay," he 
repeated soothingly, rocking her gently. "I'm here, Scully, it's 
okay." 

Scully returned the hug as much as she was able, the way they were 
sitting made it difficult. It felt so good to hold him and to have his 
arms around her. 

Mulder could feel Scully yawn again and he pulled back a little, trying 
to see her face. He could see that her eyes were closed. "Scully," he 
whispered. "Come on, why don't you lie down? We can talk more 
tomorrow." He eased out of her arms and bent to lift her legs onto the 
bed.

Nodding slowly, she eased into a more comfortable position on her side. 
He stood up and was surprised, and more than a little pleased when she 
whispered, "Please stay." 

He carefully climbed onto the bed beside her and arranged his body 
alongside hers. He brought his arm up slowly and put it around her and 
she sighed.

"Mulder?" Scully whispered some time later, half hoping he was asleep.
 
"Mm-hmmm?" he mumbled back drowsily, the hand draped over her waist 
tightening briefly. The baby stirred gently in her womb. 

"That night..." she began, and Mulder's eyes shot open. He knew to 
which night she referred to, he had replayed it in his dreams many 
times. He waited as she paused, replaying it in her own mind. 

She had awoken on his couch, sitting up and looking around in brief 
confusion. She stood, the blanket Mulder must have covered her with, 
and the sweetness of that gesture tugged at her heart, falling aside. 
She had been searching for her shoes when a sound had caught her 
attention. Mulder stood in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 
"Scully?" he had whispered, moving a little closer, "Are you alright? 
You fell asleep and I didn't want to disturb you." She had nodded, just 
looking at him. Really looking at him. His hair was tousled, his eyes 
sleepy, clad only in a pair of cotton sleep pants. In the faint light 
from the window she could see his muscled chest. He looked warm and 
strong. A sudden impulse had had her walking to him and laying her head 
on that chest, hugging him tight. His own arms had come up around her, 
one hand lightly stroking her hair. She had tilted her head back to 
smile at him and their gazes had locked. Slowly he had brought his face 
down to hers and she had risen on tiptoe, meeting him halfway. Their 
lips met, softly at first, gently. His hand in her hair had cupped her 
head and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss and Scully had felt 
something stir in her belly. Need. Want. Lust. They had walked 
awkwardly to his bed, mouths locked together, neither one willing to 
break the kiss. They had fallen onto the disheveled sheets, still warm 
from his body, and what had followed had been bliss. They had fallen 
asleep tangled in each other's arms. Scully had awoken some time later 
to find Mulder propped on his elbow, staring at her and it had begun 
again. Mulder had then fallen asleep, a small smile on his face, and 
Scully had lain in the dark, listening to him breathe.  A while later 
she had quietly and carefully eased out of the bed, gotten dressed and 
left him sleeping. 

"We never...talked about it, after," she finally continued, thinking, I 
never gave you the opportunity. "I'm sorry I left without a word...I 
just needed some time to think." She paused again before saying, 
"Mulder, I needed you...so much... and..." her voice trailed off. 

"Scully, you can say the words," he whispered into the silence. She was 
quiet and still for a long minute and Mulder was beginning to wonder if 
he had scared her, when he heard her faint whisper, "I love you, 
Mulder." 

He smiled to himself and then placed a gentle kiss just above her ear. 
"I love you, Scully." 

Their baby kicked within her, as if in approval.

A while later, Margaret Scully tiptoed quietly to the guest bedroom and 
peeked inside the partially closed door. A gentle smile tugged at the 
corners of her mouth. 

She pushed the door open further and entered quietly. The blanket lay 
forgotten on the floor. She picked it up and placed it carefully over 
her daughter and Fox. 

She gently smoothed a strand of hair from Dana's face. She stared at 
her fiercely loyal, independent and, smiling again to herself, 
passionately tender-hearted baby girl, sleeping peacefully at long 
last. Her gaze moved to Fox, closely spooned around Dana's sleeping 
form, his arm protectively over Dana's middle, hand gently touching the 
swell of her belly. His face, so drawn and tired when she had 
discovered him on her doorstep, was relaxed and at peace, the horrible 
lines of stress and pain magically erased. 

Finally she reached out and turned the bedside lamp off, the room now 
lit only by the moonlight filtering through the window and across the 
sleeping forms. She exited the room, carefully shutting the door behind 
her.



Outside Margaret Scully's Residence 
Baltimore, MD


Diana Fowley's face was deep in shadow as she sat in her car down the 
street from the Scully residence. Her lips tightened in anger as the 
lights of the house were slowly extinguished. She suddenly started the 
car and sped off down the street. The digital lights of the dashboard 
clock glowed the time. It was 11:21. 

The End


Feedback is always appreciated, but be gentle please.  
lovesfox@rogers.com

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