The Circle's End

By Shawen A. Greer

The sky that was so pleasant an hour or so ago took her by surprise as she stepped from Dr. Mullen's office, unprepared for the heavy showers that fell. Scully pulled the collar of her long black coat up high in a futile attempt to shield her from the downpour and ran quickly, dodging puddles until she reached her car and ducked inside. After pulling the door shut and exhaling an exasperated breath, she sat for a moment with the keys in her hand and watched as the heavy drops fell on the windshield and began their descent slowly down, blending with others in wiggly streams. The hypnotic lull of the rain surfaced a memory that she had tucked away long ago as a young girl in Sunday school class. Sister Margaret had said that rain was the tears of angels, shed from heaven for all the sadness in the world. How appropriate the rain seemed to her.

She took a deep breath to clear her head and turned the keys in the ignition, and soon the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the wipers joined the pounding rain in its mesmerizing stillness. While pulling out of the parking lot in the direction of the interstate, she reached for the radio, longing for the comfort of home and to be alone with her son. Mulder's son. As if to reinforce the validity of her companion, she reached into her coat pocket and looked again at the flimsy black and white picture in her hand. Thoughts of her unborn child danced in her mind, and after returning the delicate image to her pocket, she laid her palm flat and solid on her growing belly that was barely concealed with her suit jacket and overcoat. At five and a half months, she knew it would only be a matter of time before her secret would be known. The gentle flutter within her was as unfamiliar as a smile on her face, and yet both seemed to grow in response to her touch.

"Hi there little one," she whispered, pausing her hand over the light movement of her baby.

She was carrying Mulder's little boy. The smile quickly diminished in the realization of that moment. A miracle grew in her once barren womb out of a love that had just surfaced, though it had grown in secrecy for many years.

The barriers that each of them had worked so hard to build throughout their lives were torn down in one beautiful and precious night. No words had been spoken, yet they knew them as clearly as if they had been shouted. She could still feel his soft touch on her cheek and see the unspoken love in his eyes as they searched hers. He leaned closer and stopped a breath away, waiting for her response. Her heart had raced both from fear and exhilaration and she licked her lips in nervous anticipation. He took this as a sign and touched his mouth gently to hers in soft reassurance and intent.

She remembered the warm numbness that filled her and her head spinning in intoxication of his kiss, his mouth crushing hers in a release of passion. His fingers tangled gently in her hair before he took her completely in his arms and pulled her close to him. The feeling was new and yet unexpectedly familiar, as if they had been reunited after some great separation, though the only separation had been time and their own denial.

She remembered each detail of their intimacy from the anticipation to the release, even down to the sweat that glistened on his beautiful body. Now it felt like it had only been a dream, a vague awareness of what had happened. Nevertheless, the reality of that night kicked her lightly every now and then as a reminder of the haunting desire in his eyes that had revealed more than his heart could put into words.

This was the face that she saw in the darkness each night. Those were the eyes that watched her in her dreams. He was the man that she would search for until the heavens fell to earth. For the sake of their child and for the sake of her heart, she would find him. She had to find him.

The rain continued to fall from the gray sky above and she struggled to see in the residual spray from the cars ahead of her and the fog. In an attempt to shake herself from her memories and her despondency, she clicked through the buttons of her radio for a distraction. Whether by fate or some other force, the station scan stopped at the beginning of a song that would prove to be her solace. The words only registered subconsciously until a portion fell on her ears and descended straight to her heart, settling there in a mingling of emotions, and somehow she knew that it was meant for her. The man's voice seemed to capture her very soul in the power of the song.

The red taillights of the car ahead blurred in an abstract of swirls as hot tears burned her eyes, making it even more difficult to see, especially when combined with the spray from the road. Unable to continue at the risk of her baby, she pulled over to the side of the road and sat, crooked but a far enough distance from the median wall next to her door.

She slammed the car into park and felt it rock for a moment before settling in. The months of pent up emotion erupted in a flood of tears and heart wrenched sobs. Her hands held tight to the steering wheel as she lowered her pounding forehead to rest on it in a vain attempt to control her shaking body.

At the office, she stoically faced the scrutinizing eyes of her fellow agents, hiding behind the farce of searching for her missing partner in a purely professional manner. Both for his safety and because it was now her prime directive as designated by her boss. Walter Skinner alone knew the truth about what happened, having been the only eyewitness to the event that now consumed his days.

The song continued in its passion, intense and consuming, as her mind spun with thousands of images. Every smile, every touch, seemed to force her remembrance and she cried out of sheer loneliness and agony. There were so many things that she needed to say. Things that she needed to tell him.

The music faded to the faint sound of a piano and she hit the power switch in an attempt to silence her thoughts. Sinking back into the worn cloth seat, weary from such an emotional outpour, her hands fell once again to her swollen stomach. The tears continued down her flushed cheeks though the forceful trembling had stopped. She realized at that moment that she hadn't the slightest idea what to name the precious gift that she carried. Though she and Mulder had occasionally talked about the desire to have children, he had never mentioned what names would be chosen for those fictional offspring. Nor had he ever mentioned any close friends that could be chosen for namesakes.

"Mulder, please," she whispered, "I need you."

Her silent prayer was answered by the driving sound of the rain as her car door swung open. She knew that she should move, that she should defend herself and her baby if necessary, but the strong hands that took her arms felt somehow familiar.

"Mulder?" she asked without opening her eyes.

"Agent Scully, are you all right?" came the response.

Her heart sank for a moment only to be quickly elated to at least now have a friend at her side. Slowly she opened her eyes and turned her head to face Skinner who squatted at her open car door, his coat already soaked by the rain. He removed his rain spotted glasses and asked again, softer this time. "Scully?"

"It's a boy," she said only to see her own emotions expressed on his face. Indescribable happiness at the news tempered with sadness at the void that it shared.

Without another word between them, she fell into his arms and he held her awkwardly to his chest. Feeling each of her tears in his own heart as she cried, he silently renewed his vow to Mulder, to protect her and the precious life that she carried until they met again.

"I don't even know what to call him, Sir," she said. "Mulder should name his first son."

With a steady hand, he leaned in, turned off the ignition and removed the keys, tossing them into her satchel as he lifted it from the passenger's seat. “Come on, I’ll drive you home,” he said as he scooped her up from the seat and helped her out of the car.

……………..

She focused on the windshield with the random spattering of raindrops and the constant slide of the wipers trying to busy her mind from her own thoughts, but in the end, she knew it was useless.

“Sir?" she asked finding her voice. His attention darted in her direction before returning to the road. "How did you know where I was?"

His mind searched for an appropriate answer. Should he admit to her the many times that he followed her home since Mulder’s disappearance to ensure her safety? He thought sure that she would be offended with such a response. Dana Scully was one of his best agents and quite capable of taking care of herself. However, he had thought the same of Mulder. Now he only had his own reflection to curse in the mirror. No, he would not belittle her by making it seem as though he doubted her capabilities, but he would also hold true to his duty. "I was out running some errands and I noticed your car on the side of the road. I wanted to make sure you were ok."

She seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded before turning her attention to the passing scenery. The heavy traffic had dwindled to a steady flow and they reached her apartment building about twenty minutes later. Before she could gather her things and open the door, he had already walked around and waited with this umbrella high over her head. Being the proper gentleman, he extended his hand and helped her out and over the small streams that were forming in the parking lot. They darted together up the walkway, two of her strides to one of his, until they reached the door.

He waited until her key turned in the lock until he said his goodbye, "Goodnight, Agent Scully, get some rest," and he turned on his heel to leave.

"Sir," she said quickly, "you're soaked. Why don't you come in and wait out the storm. I could make some coffee."

He eyes shifted from his feet to the walls until he finally looked at her.

"Please," she whispered, "I could really use the company." Her eyes returned to the key in the lock as she turned the knob and pushed the door open into the dimly lit apartment. He knew how hard it was for her admit that she needed someone, so he followed her inside without a second thought.

"A cup of coffee sounds great. Thanks."

She took his overcoat and hung it up to dry before heading to the kitchen. He wandered around the room with his hands in his pockets taking in his surroundings. The room was cozy with the faint smell of flowers and candles and impeccably neat except for the clutter of open files, papers, and photographs that covered her coffee table. He couldn't help but equate it to Mulder's mess that was commonly referred to as a desk. The reason should have been apparent at first glance, but upon a closer look at the gathering of papers, he understood the similarity. The file was marked with a standard issue X-file case number and was identified as "Unexplained Disappearance - Fox Mulder". There were also pictures that Scully had brought back with her from Africa, ancient Navajo markings carved in patterns and a book on Navajo writing. "This must be where she works," he thought to himself and sighed thinking of the many hours spent at this small glass table. He pulled himself away from her notes and looked at the other happier things that decorated her home. Picture frames covered her small entertainment center and he recognized the faces of her mother and her older brother Bill. He assumed that the children, smiling from their homemade frames of Popsicle sticks and felt, were her nieces and nephews, with the exception of one whose frame boasted "Godson". A sepia photo in a dark mahogany frame stood in stark contrast to the children, with a man in a naval uniform that he identified at once as her father, having the same smile that he so rarely saw anymore from his colleague.

Another large silver frame sat alone on an end table and he swallowed hard at the knot that formed in his throat. It was a picture of Mulder and Scully taken in Hollywood at the premier of The Lazarus Bowl. It was a familiar pose as Mulder's arm gently guided Scully through the foyer of the theater. He had seen them look at each other like that a hundred times, but there was something magical about it frozen in time with their love and devotion to one another so powerfully apparent. He had to admit they were a beautiful couple her in her elegant black dress, a stark contrast to the bright blue of her eyes and her shining red hair, and him in his black tux, perfectly complimented by his dark hair, looking like a leading man on Oscar night. He had told his long time friend, now movie producer, his suspicions of his two agents and their possible "extensive" partnership on an outing at Gertie's bar during his visit, never dreaming that it would some how make it to the final cut. To this day, he wasn’t sure if Mulder's outburst at the screening had been out of aggravation from very poor script or out of embarrassment at the revealing truth that he hid so deeply.

The ride to Bellefleur from the airport had been a long one that last night and he had sensed that there was something that Mulder had wanted to talk to him about; to confide in him if you will, but before anything could be said he had disappeared in a flash of light.

Scully turned the corner with two mugs and Skinner blinked back to reality from the memories that troubled him every waking hour. "Black right?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded, "that's great. Thank you."

"Your friend sent that to me," she said, nodding in the direction of the photograph that had just held his attention, "the publicity people took it."

The large warm mug felt good in his rain chilled hand as he took it from her and followed her to the sofa. She had traded her wet suit for navy blue pajamas and socks and he couldn't help but stare at the swell of her pregnant belly that was now obvious in the loose fitting clothes. She sat with her legs tucked up underneath her sipping on a cup of what was sure to be herbal tea, since that was all she drank outside of water and milk these days. He sat for a moment just looking at her as she stared at some far off place, lost in thoughts and memories as her left hand subconsciously rubbed the roundness of her middle. She was captivating at that moment. It was almost if she were someone else. Surely, her father must have seen this innocent girl every time he left for sea. Dana Scully, childlike innocence bolstered with matured hope and reason. She must have sensed him staring and turned her eyes to meet his.

He felt suddenly uncomfortable and offered an explanation. "I'm sorry Agent Scully," he stammered, "I guess I've never seen you as a mother before."

His words took her back to what seemed a lifetime ago, when Fox Mulder had said those very words. She had fallen in love with him that day. Oh, she had been attracted to him from their first meeting, and the more she grew to know him the more intriguing he became. But, on that day under a sunny blue sky, he let his guard down for the first time and she had seen him for who he really was. His hopes and his dreams were more similar hers than she had realized, and for a moment the chance of "happily-ever-after" seemed possible.

“Mulder said that to me once,” she whispered.

Silent tears filled her eyes again at the memory, for once again the comic force that was Fate had dealt them a cruel joke of happiness. The life stirred once again within her, a feeling that she had thought she would never know. Her most precious prayers had been answered, only to result in the loss of the other half of herself. She looked up at the face of her friend only to be caught off guard at the tears that openly rolled down his granite cheeks.

He had watched her as she was lost in her memories and the anguish that showed on her beautiful face was more than he could handle. The sleepless nights of tortured dreams finally peaked in the presence of her sorrow, and he could hide it no longer.

"Scully, I'm so sorry," he almost whispered through his tears, his stoic features unable to hide the softness of his heart.

The sobs that had earlier wracked her small body returned at the sight of him and they embraced each other sharing in the release of all that they had worked so hard to hide.

The tears flowed freely from each of them until there were no more left to cry, and she lay with her head on his chest in his arms much as a little girl lays in the protective arms of her father.

"I won't let anything happen to you Dana," he whispered, his eyes distant with his thoughts, "or Mulder's son. We’ll find him, we will."

She nodded against him and tried to smile. She believed him, or at least believed that he would try. Drifting in a place between sleep and awake and emotionally drained, she fell asleep there in the safety of his arms. Although she wished with all her heart they were Mulder's arms, she also was grateful for the peace and security that she felt there.

When her deep breathing confirmed to him that she was asleep, he gently pulled her up and carried her to her bedroom. The neatly made bed hardly moved as he placed her head on the pillow and pulled up the knitted throw from the foot of the bed. Looking one final time at her swollen stomach his determination returned. Not only was he determined to guard this child at all costs, but also to reunite him with his father - somehow. Before he could leave, his attention was diverted to the small black and white film on her nightstand. He carefully picked it up and strained to make out the image in the dim light that seeped in from the living room. He had never been good at identifying the tiny forms that were captured in these sonograms, but to his surprise, this one was quite apparent. The profile was a delicate silhouette in the fuzzy gray mass behind it, and its legs were folded underneath it much like his mother had been sitting a little while ago. In addition to all of the personal information that was typed along the side, the line "YOUR BABY BOY" was written as confirmation.

Skinner carefully returned the flimsy paper to its former place as gingerly as if it were the baby himself and made his way back out to the bright light of the living room. He walked through the quiet apartment checking the window locks for his own peace of mind and turned out the few lights that burned. His coat was retrieved from her closet and pulled on as he let himself out into the chilly hallway making sure that the door was securely locked behind him. Pausing only for a moment at the outer door to open his umbrella, he ran again through the pouring rain to his car and to another sleepless night.

*****

The light was blinding in its intensity and he shielded his eyes until it faded into the familiar surroundings of her apartment. Having escaped to this place in his thoughts many times since the light had first held him, he paused for a moment to take in each small detail to carry back with him. Closing his eyes, he breathed the scent of her and the tears came quickly at the remembrance.

The solid ground beneath him was as foreign as the soft and cozy ambiance, and his legs were unaccustomed to the feeling. With cautious steps, he reached the scattering of papers and files that vaguely resembled her coffee table unprepared for the sight of his own case file. There were psychological evaluations and reports of men and women that claimed to have been abducted and of the torturous tests that they had endured at the hands of the alien beings. He saw the wilted marks that dotted these pages knowing they were the result of her tears as she read.

The pain grew in his chest at the realization that once again he had been the source of pain and unhappiness for his partner and love. He was stabilized for a moment by his need to be near her, and made his way to her bedroom on slow but steady legs. His heart quickened in the anticipation of this long awaited moment drowning out any other noise.

Her darkened shape was outlined by the faint glow of the moon that subtly lit the room and he allowed the doorway to support his weak and emotional frame as he stood looking at her. He longed to take her in his arms and hold her as a reassurance that this was not a dream. However, he had been instructed that because of the tests, contact with his skin could be fatal to other living things because the same toxic element in the extraterrestrial blood was exuded through his "weak human skin" and he would ultimately need to be "purified" before his final return.

The purpose of this brief visit was for each of the specially selected subjects to notify their families of their safety and to reassure them of their eventual return. They were the survivors, the quintessential alien/human hybrids and as such the saviors of their race.

Unlike the lies told by The Consortium, these alien beings were committed to the survival of the human race not the destruction of it. Their colonization was not to dominate the earth but to see to its expansion and healing. They came as great teachers and healers of the universe, though it was true that many humans had not been able to survive the intensity of the research. Mulder himself had been near death many times in the last months. Only the thoughts of Scully and their newfound love had carried him through. Now the tests were finished and they were being trained for leadership in the "new world" that was to come. Only a few months more, only a few. That had become his mantra.

His legs were numb as they carried him to her bedside and he knelt a breath away from her kissing the air so close to her skin that he could almost feel its warmth. His eyes traveled the path of her body as his hands pulled in tight fists resisting the need to touch her.

"Scully," he whispered, surprised by the sound of his own voice. Words had not been necessary in quite some time as all communication aboard the ship was telepathic. The others had contracted in varying degrees the same debilitating sickness that he had suffered with irregular brain waves, thus making it possible for them to communicate with one another and quite strangely with the aliens themselves.

In response to his voice, she sighed a little and rolled slightly onto her back and the blanket that had covered her fell by her side revealing the growing roundness of her pregnancy. He found himself unable to say to her name again, in fact, he was quite unable to say anything. The room shifted slightly beneath him and he fell back onto his feet pulling his arms tightly around himself is if suddenly chilled. Thoughts flooded his mind much too quickly for him to distinguish between them for any length of time and as he scanned the room for some point of reference with which to center himself, his eyes fell on a flimsy black and white paper on the night table next to him. With shaky hands, he slid it from the polished wood and strained to see the image that it contained. His finger traced the small face that seemed to stare back at him as he tilted it in the moonlight and through his tears; he read the confirmation of his hopes.

NAME: SCULLY/MULDER - 23 wks.

He was going to have a child, a son according to the block style letters at the top. Unable to contain himself any longer, the palms of his hands were crushed to his forehead carrying the sonogram picture with them and the sobs wracked his already weakened body. The tears that flowed were a mixture of sorrow and elation as thousands of little fingers danced over his skin, every nerve ending responding to the reality of the moment.

He knew that his time was short but there was so much to tell her. Unconcerned now of his original directive, he needed now to tell her how much he loved her and how much he loved their unborn child. Yet, at the same time he couldn't bear to wake her, not now. Rest was more important for her and for the baby, and it was apparent from the research material in the living room and the sight of her resting on a still made bed that sleep was an unwelcome necessity in the life of Agent Scully. There had to be another way.

Then it occurred to him that if he could be here in Scully's apartment, then he could just as easily be in Skinner's. He was sure that under the circumstances Scully must have been forced to confide in him, otherwise she would have been assigned to a desk at first suspicion of her pregnancy. Skinner would have known that there would be no restricting her from the Missing Persons investigation. She wouldn't have accepted that. She needed to be involved as much possible. That was something that Mulder knew first hand as he remembered the helpless feeling that he carried around with him after her disappearance years ago. But, Skinner would have never allowed her to pursue this case on her own in her condition.

Knowing his friend well, he was fairly sure that the former Marine held himself responsible to some degree for Mulder's abduction "on his watch" that night in Oregon. That coupled with the concern he already had for Dana Scully, having sacrificed his own integrity to save her life, it was an easy conclusion that Walter Skinner had assumed the role of watcher and protector for the expectant mother and her child.

Sure of his plan, he slowly rose from her bedside. "I'll be home soon, Scully," he whispered, "To both of you."

He held the wrinkled picture to his lips with both hands as he closed his eyes to make sure that he could still see the tiny form in his mind. Then he returned it to its place on the nightstand and joy filled his heart at just the sight of it.

He heard her take one deep and ragged breath and didn't have to wonder what horror was invading her peaceful sleep, and though he still believed that it was best not to wake her, he had to reassure her somehow that he was ok. A smile spread across his lips as the answer became so obvious, and reaching into the pocket of his coat he retrieved a couple of the sunflower seeds that still rested there from that night in the woods. He held them in his hand for a moment before kissing them and placing them on top of the sonogram of their child as the light began to grow in the other room summoning him.

Resting his hand on the bed next to her, he looked at her one last time. "I love you, Scully," he said and he made his way to the light determined that even if by force it would take him one more stop. His mission had been changed in one fleeting moment from the future of the world to the future of his family, and somehow, someway he would return to them as quickly as possible. He wasn't sure if "the powers that be" or "the powers that be alien" could be reckoned with, but he would soon find out. The light enveloped him again and this time the closing of his eyes met the delicate form of his child.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Walter Skinner leaned on one elbow and held his glasses up to his eyes to see the clock. "Damn!" he cursed at the realization that it was 1:30 in the morning and he still hadn't fallen asleep, again. With a weary sigh he fell back on his pillow, tossing his glasses down next to the clock and covering his eyes with his forearm.

How long had it been since he'd had a full night's sleep? The answer posed itself as another question. How long had Mulder been gone?

Every night it was the same thing. Alone in the dark with the help of hindsight he planned how their mission should have gone. The light that had pierced the night with enough force to momentarily take his breath away had burned itself forever in his memory. It was the haunting illumination of his failure, his failure to him and ultimately his failure to her.

Even now, months after standing in the presence of such brilliance, the memory was so real that it seemed to surround him. Then he realized as he removed his arm from his disbelieving eyes the horrifying truth. This time the light was not in his memory but growing steadily in the hall outside his room.

Energized by fear and by hope, he threw back the remaining covers that had survived his tossing and turning and pulled his gun from its holster hidden behind the bed. Always the credulous superior, it was hard for him to admit the level of paranoia that his smoking nemesis and Alex Krycek had lowered him to. Nevertheless his 9MM was readily available, always.

Now as he crouched by his bedside taking aim for any movement at his door, he questioned the validity of this moment. Certainly he had to be asleep and this was only another nightmare. But, before he could convince himself the familiar silhouette appeared in the light, crouching just slightly from its intensity.

He eased his grip slightly on the weapon in his hands, but disbelief and wonder inhibited any further movement. The dissipation of the light confirmed his hopes as Fox Mulder's head looked up from the crossing of his arms that had carefully guarded his eyes. Slowly and with seemingly great effort he straightened and lowered his hands to his sides and a tired smile curled the side of his mouth at the sight of his friend.

"Gee, must have been a pretty bad in-flight movie on the way back for you to be this pissed," he managed to say attempting humor at the sight of the aimed handgun.

Skinner's suspicions were quickly dispelled at the typical sarcasm and he rose from his post by the bed and exchanged his gun for his glasses. "Dear God Mulder, are you all right?" he questioned as he ran to support his friend's weary frame.

"No!" Mulder exclaimed darting quickly out of reach of his concerned friend, "You can't touch me, Sir. There are residual toxins on my skin."

He stopped short with a nod of understanding and made his way back to the edge of the bed where he sat, his black sweats blending into the black of the comforter beneath him. "Mulder," he said, but the words ceased after that. There was so much to say, but his friend quickly led the conversation where it needed to go.

"Sir, I need your help," he began, "and I don't have very much time."

**********

It was 4:40 when she looked at the clock, still half asleep and trying to remember coming to bed. A smile surfaced at the realization that Skinner must have brought her in here since the last thing she remembered was crying on his shoulder to the company of his own tears. Together they were a pair, the Ice Queen and Callous Marine never emotional and always focused on their work, or so was the opinion of those around them. It had taken a rainy night of shrouded happiness for each of them to release what encumbered them day after day since his disappearance. She knew the guilt that he harbored inside, though she doubted any of them could have prevented the inevitable.

As was the normal routine for the middle of the night, she made her trip to the bathroom, which was becoming more and more frequent as her baby grew and her body adjusted to accommodate him. Resolved in the fact that she had slept long enough and had wasted too much time already, she continued down the chilly hallway to the kitchen and started a pot of tea.

In response to her movement the baby greeted her and nudged gently at her side. She pressed back slightly with the palm of her hand and looked forward to the day that she could hold his hand in her own without barriers.

She thrilled at the feel of her child within her and it sparked the need for her to reaffirm his likeness, so she returned to her bedroom to retrieve the sonogram picture from the nightstand where she left it. It would be a few more minutes until her tea was ready, so she would use it to be alone with her son before she resumed the task of searching for his daddy.

Her hand touched for the slippery paper but halted when her fingers brushed something lightly on the top. It seemed as though ice flowed through her veins as she reached for the light to see if her mind was playing tricks on her. The first click of the lamp switch revealed either a cruel joke or a hopeful confirmation, and in her heart she knew which was true. Mulder had been here, she could feel it. The sunflower seeds were carefully scooped up along with the intended photo and she held them both to her lips in a silent but solemn prayer as the soft knocks began at the front door.

**********

"I've suffered through your experiments, I've cooperated with everything that you've asked of me, and I've learned my part in the tactical strategy of the colonization of earth. Now, you son of a bitch, you go do whatever it is that you need to do to get me back. Now!" he screamed at the familiar alien bounty hunter that had surfaced in his life on many occasions. His concentrated stare was as usual an attempt to be threatening, as if to say "With one wave of my hand I could kill you", but Mulder understood the bond that they shared and fear was the furthest from his mind.

The intimidating man stood his ground and answered simply, "Even if it was possible to end your training now, it takes time for the purification process. Any amplification of the procedure would probably kill you."

"You said probably, so I could survive," Mulder countered.

"You're being foolish," the alien argued.

"No, I'm being a father."

The tough and unyielding man before him stopped to consider the matter, "Your mate has produced an off-spring?" he questioned. "The stories must be true about the power of the old relic that she was exposed to. They have said that it can heal, even bring new life into what is dead."

Mulder had initially questioned the miracle of Scully's pregnancy knowing first hand that she had been left barren as the result of the government tests she had been subjected to. However, the overwhelming joy that he felt at the sight of her made the circumstances surrounding this phenomenon seem unimportant in comparison to the outcome.

"I'll see what I can do," came the monotone response, and without further explanation he crossed the threshold into the isolated area of the spacecraft and the door was closed behind him.

"I'm trying Scully," Mulder whispered, "don't give up on me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Her fingers tingled from the numbness that spread slowly down her arms and settled in her fingers, as her body seemed to drift toward the rhythmic tapping on the door. In a span of seconds, the possibilities flooded her mind in a whirlwind of images, but after the reassurance that she still held in her hands, she was sure that it was the answer to her prayers. Hope was her strength and it quickened her step as she ran to the door and expectantly threw it open.

"Mulder?" escaped her, but obvious disappointment masked her face at again the sight of her boss and friend.

Skinner stood motionless, his furrowed brow making him seem older than his years, and she stepped aside so that he could enter. Making no attempt to move he remained at the threshold, pensive, as if looking for the right words to say. Immediately her mind made the first logical conclusion for such a late visit, and to his troubled demeanor. The tears began to surface again as she waited for another heartbreak.

"Agent Scully," he began, "Dana," he continued but words again failed him and he searched her eyes for how to begin his implausible tale. Unable to explain in words he reached in the pocket of his brown leather jacket and pulled out the sunflower seeds that had been given to him as substantiation of the truth. His palm trembled as he extended his arm past the doorframe and into the dim light. "He's alive," he whispered, breathless from emotion. The path of their quest had taken a sudden turn and the end was finally near. His face began to brighten as a smile replaced the lines of worry.

To confirm his revelation, she too held out her hand with the tattered picture and seeds that were clenched inside, and opened it slowly. They looked at their hands side by side, her small one with the outlines of the shells pressed deeply into her skin and his large and still unsteady. Mulder was alive, and he was coming home, Skinner didn't need to tell her anymore, the small kernels in their hands spoke for him.

Scully closed her eyes and sighed deeply trying to let this moment register, telling herself that it was not a dream. There had been many visions in the dark of a scene much like this one, but never had she held the proof in her hand.

"There was one other thing," he said, "I'm supposed to tell you to name the baby Logan Gregory. He said that you would understand."

She thought for a moment the possible relevance of the name, forgotten family members, old friends mentioned in passing. And though she personally liked the name in and of itself, she didn't know what it was that she was supposed to understand.

The forgotten teakettle whistled and she hurried to the kitchen to quiet the disturbance. Silently she said the name over and over again trying to remember. Logan Gregory Mulder, Logan Gregory Mulder, Logan Gregory - and suddenly she understood and she began to laugh. Not just a slight chuckle, but a laugh that shook her shoulders and worked its cleansing magic the way only laughter can. It was a joke, a reassurance to her that he was okay.

Skinner, who had finally come in from the hallway, stood at the kitchen entrance his eyes narrow with confusion and concern. Surely he thought that she had finally caved in to the emotional stress that she had been under.

Thankful as always for his concern she joined him there as the laughing diminished to simply a smile. "I understand," she said crossing her arms squarely and leaning against the wall. "It's not the name, Sir, it's the initials. L G M"

His eyes panned the ivory walls as he concentrated on the riddle. She simply grinned and waited patiently for him to analyze the data and make his conclusion.

A puzzled look veiled his face when he looked up at her finally and said, "Little Green Men," rather dryly and unconvinced.

The white light that quickly enveloped the room grew to blinding before she could interject. They stood in silence shielding their eyes, yet desperately tried to withstand its intensity for that first glimpse of him. The familiar silhouette that Skinner had seen only hours before appeared again and the radiance began to diminish as quickly as it had appeared and left behind a very weak but smiling Fox Mulder.

"They're Gray, Walter, not Green," he said with the typical defiant sarcasm as the burly man slowly approached him, and this time Mulder let him come. Again it was Mulder who spoke, his voice still weak and slightly hoarse. "Thank you, Sir," he said, "for everything."

He extended his hand which Skinner quickly took in his own, but both realizing this moment for what it was they each locked an arm around the other's neck.

"Welcome home, Mulder," he said, in an ineffective attempt at his professional voice as the men parted, and he stepped aside to reveal a smiling Dana Scully with tears of joy streaming down her flushed cheeks.

Mulder smiled at her then, that wonderful smile that she had missed for so long. It was the smile that told her that he loved her, and that he had missed her, and ultimately that he was home. She pushed herself from the cold wall and ran, albeit shaking, to the warmth of his arms where he caught her tightly and pulled her close.

No words were spoken, there were none that needed to be said, and the held each other tightly remembering how good it felt to have their bodies together. Just then he felt a nudging at his abdomen and drew back quickly and let his eyes fall to the source. Carefully and gently he placed his hand on her swollen belly just in time for another push. His eyes danced with amazement as he looked into the loving eyes of his baby's mother.

"He said welcome home, Daddy," she whispered and placed her hand over his as they

shared together the miracle of their love.

His hand remained there as his face came up to meet hers in a kiss. "I love you, Scully," he whispered as his tears joined hers. "I love you both," and he pulled her back into his arms.

Skinner fought his own tears from his corner in the shadows and he quietly turned

the latch and opened the door. His time would come later he knew and he looked back once again on the new family that was forming and it warmed his heart. His days and nights as guardian were over, they were united once again. And as he ran through the remaining puddles in the parking lot he knew that there would be no more sleepless nights - at least not until Logan was born.

The End