Title: Beyond Conception
Author: Alelou
Feedback: Alelou123@aol.com
Archive: Ephemeral, Gossamer & Spooky okay,
others please just let me know
Category: Scully Angst, MSR
Rating: PG-13? Implied sex, nothing explicit.
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and the various other
Scullys belong to CC, 1013 and Fox. "The Runaway
Bunny" was written by Margaret Wise Brown and
published by Harper Collins. Annette Corbierre is
mine, but seeing as how I'm borrowing all THIS
stuff without permission I'd say she's fair game!
Summary: Sometimes life gives you something you
just aren't ready for.
Notes: Thanks to Ambress and MystPhile for beta,
and especially to MystPhile for patient beta work
in the face of tremendous technical angst with AOL.
Because of said issues, I'll post this slowly at
first to make sure you can actually read it! Give
the wonderful Beaker a day or two and then the whole
thing can be found at:
http://members.xoom.com/Alelou123/
She is sitting on a bed tucked in the corner of a dark,
cluttered room next to a sweating Emily. There are
cleaning supplies jammed in around the edges of the
mattress, and Scully wonders why anyone would put stuff
like this in a child's bed. And yet, she doesn't see
much point in clearing them off or making a fuss.
Emily turns her head to her, and asks, "Is it going to
hurt?"
"No, sweetie, it won't hurt," she says, smoothing the
girl's baby-fine hair back from her hot, wet forehead.
The little girl looks at her, perhaps trying to assess
her truthfulness. "Are the other children going to make
fun of me?"
"No, sweetie, they won't make fun of you. They don't
let the other children watch something like that."
She turns to Mulder, who is hovering behind them, and he
agrees. "No, no children."
Emily looks at them both, plainly still anxious, but
increasingly sleepy. "I'm scared," she says.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Would you like a story?"
The little girl nods. "The Runaway Bunny."
"The Runaway Bunny?" Scully's heart sinks; she doesn't
remember it, and has no idea where to find it. This
strange dark room is not hers; she has no idea if there
are any children's books in it.
Emily nods solemnly. "My mommy read it to me."
Mulder, surprisingly, suddenly chimes in:
Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run
away. So he said to his mother, "I am running
away."
"If you run away," said his mother, "I will run
after you. For you are my little bunny."
The little bunny turns himself into a fish in a trout
stream, and the mother bunny turns herself into a
fisherman to catch him. He turns himself into a rock on
a high mountain, and she turns into a mountain climber.
When the little bunny has turned into a crocus in a hidden
garden, they realize that Emily has fallen asleep.
"What kind of world is it that sentences a little child
to death?" Scully asks Mulder, hissing. She can't
fathom that this beautiful child had just heard her last
bedtime story.
"Scully, you know she was never meant to be," Mulder
says calmly and gently. "It's for the best."
xxx
Scully woke. Daylight was streaming into the room, and
she felt a powerful sense of relief at escaping her
dream. It was unusual for her to wake up with a vivid
memory of her nightmares, but this was a morning dream,
on a Saturday when she'd had no particular reason to get
up early. And dreaming about Emily was not all that odd
for her, but this one had been unusually disturbing:
Comforting the child so that she could sleep the night
before her execution. And they both did it so matter-
of-factly, as if nothing could be done about it.
She lay in bed, reflecting. It was perhaps not so
different than what she *had* done, really. True, she
hadn't delivered her over to an executioner, just
watched her succumb to an impossible blood chemistry.
And what kind of future had she faced as one of their
sickly lab rats?
Still, perhaps she'd had a future of some kind, until
Scully "rescued" her. Not for the first time, Scully
wondered why those phone calls had come to her. If that
was really Missy, phoning from beyond the grave, what
was she hoping to accomplish? Another Scully soul in
heaven before her time ... someone to play with?
Keeping her pure child's soul safe from temptation? Or
was heaven also lining up against alien conspiracies?
(And if so, couldn't heaven do a better job against
them?)
It was beyond any sense Scully understood, and usually
she just let it be. In recent years she had developed
an ability to live with ambiguity and paradox that would
have stunned and dismayed her younger self. It was
really a practical matter of survival: it allowed her to
work on the X Files without forsaking everything she'd
ever learned, and it enabled her to take much-needed
solace in her faith in a world where Christianity often
seemed absurd. Thus, she actually accepted and believed
far more than her partner had ever imagined -- as long
as she didn't have to take it out in the light of day
and think about it too much.
She reviewed the disturbing dream again. Mulder had
said something like that, that Emily wasn't meant to be,
hadn't he? Keeping his emotional distance and trying to
get her to keep hers. He seemed to get more involved
later, but by then she had resented it. But hell, even
she had maintained a fair amount of distance. How well
can you get to know a child in less than 24 hours?
She'd never read Emily a single story.
What was that story? And how come Mulder knew it so
well? It was hard to imagine Teena Mulder reading any
stories to her son, though she also liked to think that
the Mulder household hadn't been so very awful until
Samantha was taken. But why did Scully's subconscious
have him knowing it? Maybe because he tended to know
all sorts of arcane things? And how, if she didn't know
it, did her dreaming mind know it? Perhaps she'd read
it and forgotten it?
Too much to grapple with on a sunny Saturday morning.
She got up and headed for the bathroom.
xxx
The phone rang on her second cup. "Scully," she said,
thinking it would be Mulder.
"Dana?"
"Oh! Hi, Mom. How are you?"
"Bill just called. Tara's in labor." Maggie's voice
was a curious combination of controlled excitement and
tentativeness.
"That's great," Scully said. "Not running late this
time."
"I'm heading out there this afternoon. I reserved a
seat for you if you want to join me. But I'll
understand if you can't."
Scully hesitated. She'd known this was coming, and
she'd cleared her schedule for it. But somehow, now
when it came right down to it, she was desperate for an
excuse to stay home.
But she also knew Tara could use the help. Aunt Dana
was always good with nephews and hadn't had nearly
enough time with Matthew yet. And she had no good and
truthful excuse to stay away.
"No, mom, I'll go." Scully took down the flight
arrangements
xxx
"Mulder." He sounded half asleep.
"Mulder, it's me."
"Everything all right?" He sounded alert now. It
occurred to her that she almost never called him unless
there was a problem. Which, technically, there was.
"Yeah, everything's fine. But Tara just went into
labor." She'd already told Mulder that Bill and Tara
were expecting their second child, that they already
knew it was a girl. "A week early this time."
"Oh." There was a pause. "So --"
"So I guess I'm on my way out there with Mom. There's
nothing urgent to keep me here, right?" She already
knew there wasn't.
"Not unless you'd like something urgent to keep you
here."
Good old Mulder. "No ... I really ought to go."
"I imagine something really urgent might come up in just
a day or two," he said helpfully. "I'll call you and
you can decide if you need to get back here."
She breathed a quick sigh. "Thanks, Mulder."
"You call me if anything happens, Scully." There was a
darkness in his tone born of not-so-recent experience.
"I will. I promise."
"I'll miss you."
She didn't say anything for a moment, surprised that he
had just said something like that. "I'll miss you,
too," she said, finally, in an unnaturally high, almost
strangled voice.
"Well, bye," he said, sounding amused, and hung up.
She stared at the headset before replacing it. Mulder
never said "bye." And he'd certainly never said "I'll
miss you" to her before. She sighed and spoke to the
only plant that had survived the last three years in her
apartment. "I sure hope that was really him."
xxx
Mrs. Scully was already on the plane when Scully rushed
in at the last minute, quickly despairing of finding a
place for her carry-on luggage. The stewardess looked
annoyed and took it back up to first class.
"Traffic," she explained to her mom, who also looked
annoyed.
"I didn't think you were going to make it," Maggie said.
She knew her daughter was never late for anything --
at least, never when she was without her partner.
And it was Saturday, not exactly a big traffic day.
"Well, I would have just gotten the next flight," Scully
said, defensively.
"I guess you've got plenty of frequent-flyer miles
anyway," her mom said, clearly unimpressed.
Scully sighed and sat down. It didn't work like that,
but she wasn't going to get into it.
"You know, you didn't have to come if you didn't want
to," her mother continued. She didn't add anything
about still not having to, because the plane was already
moving.
Scully had had enough. "I'm sure I never would have
heard a single comment about it."
"I didn't pressure you to come!" her mother hissed.
"Tell me one thing I said to pressure you to come."
Scully couldn't say anything to that.
Her mother sighed. "Dana, don't you think I might
understand that you wouldn't want to? I just don't
enjoy the feeling that somehow I'm dragging you
somewhere you don't want to be."
"Mom, I want to see the baby. I want to see Matthew. I
want to help Tara. I don't happen to care if I see Bill
again for another twenty years, but I'll put up with
him."
"He's your brother, Dana."
"Yeah, I know," Scully said. "He thinks that gives him
the right to be insufferable about things he doesn't
understand, unfortunately."
"You're talking about Fox, aren't you?"
"Or my job, or Emily, or medicine, or science, or just
about any other topic of conversation."
"He just wants what's best for you, Dana."
Scully sighed. They hadn't even gotten there yet and
she already wanted to go home.
End Part 1
Katherine Melissa Scully made her first appearance on
the planet shortly before her grandmother and aunt
landed, and was therefore suitably clean and sleepy and
swaddled in pink when they arrived at the hospital.
Tara was glowing, having had a relatively fast and easy
delivery. Bill was glowing, happy to have a little girl
who would adore him. Maggie was glowing, full of pride,
thrilled to have a grandaughter, her eyes tearing up
over the name and the tiny little fingers. Little Katy
was glowing with her mother's hormones and beautiful in
that odd little alien way that all newborns are, making
Scully suddenly think of those genes humans appeared to
have in common with grays.
Scully was not glowing, but she smiled and cooed and did
her utmost not to dampen the festivities, before making
her excuses to go pick up Matthew from the neighbors and
get him settled into bed. Maggie joined her, realizing
better than Scully that a three-year-old who hadn't seen
his aunt in over a year might not react with total joy.
Matthew was indeed shy with her at first, but soon
warmed up and delightedly showed her all his backyard
toys in the waning light of the evening while Maggie
baked chicken nuggets. They had a quick dinner and put
him to bed with a story about Thomas the Tank Engine.
"Exhausted?" Maggie asked, as Scully quickly gathered
sheets to make up the sofa.
"God, yes. It's midnight our time, isn't it?"
"Yes, I'm tired too. Good night, sweetheart." Dana was
uncomfortably conscious that in some unspoken way she
was letting her mother down, but her mother was also
backing off easily these days. No fishing tackle for
Maggie; if Dana wanted to be a fish in a trout stream
she could swim as far as she wanted.
Scully stretched out on the sofa, thankful to be alone
at last. Without thinking, she dug out her cell phone
and hit Mulder's speed dial.
He answered the first ring. "I sure hope this is
Scully."
She smiled. "Katherine Melissa Scully, born 3:44 pm
Pacific Time. 7 pounds 2 ounces, 19 inches long, tiny
bit of hair that everyone claims is red."
"But you're not buying it without a thorough analysis."
"At least a few more hairs from which to draw a
statistically reliable sample."
"Blue eyes?"
"All newborns have blue eyes."
"Really?"
She suddenly doubted herself. "Actually, I'm not sure.
Have to look it up."
"So how ya doing?" His question was studiously
nonchalant.
"I'm fine."
There was a slight pause. Well, she was, she thought
defensively.
"Need something urgent to come up yet?" he asked.
"No, but I'll keep you posted." She yawned.
"How's Tara?"
"She's great," Scully says, momentarily nonplussed,
until she remembered that Mulder actually knew Tara.
"Very easy labor. Want to hear about Bill?"
"Not unless it's something I can use to embarrass him
someday."
"Sorry, nothing like that." She yawned again.
"Go to sleep, Scully."
"Yeah," she agreed. "You, too."
"I'm really glad you called," he said in a rush, then
hung up before she good say goodnight.
Scully blinked, putting the phone away slowly and
feeling that somehow she was being slow on the uptake.
Then she curled over on her side and was asleep in
seconds.
xxx
The next day passed in a whirl of Matthew. They took
him to the hospital so he could visit his mommy and look
through the window at his little sister, then Scully
kept him entertained with a trip to the zoo while Maggie
stayed at the hospital.
By the end of the day Scully was wondering why anybody
thought they could handle two children when one was so
exhausting, and desperately wanted to just sack out on
the couch and go to sleep. Maggie, however, showed up
and persuaded her to take some items Tara wanted to the
hospital.
Tara was breastfeeding Katy when Scully arrived. She
didn't seem embarrassed about it, so Scully relaxed and
perched in the side chair.
"I hope this goes a lot easier this time," Tara said.
"I almost gave up on breastfeeding with Matthew. I
thought I might end up being the first-ever recipient of
nipple transplants."
"She looks like she's latching on just fine," Scully
said, recalling an obscure piece of her medical training
and wondering if she really had a clue what she was
talking about. "Where's Bill?"
"Ran to the base for awhile. He's going to sleep at
home tonight, then come get us in the morning."
"How are you feeling?"
"Happy. Tired. Couldn't sleep much last night. After
all those delays last time I was such a nutcase. So
this time was such a breeze. Plus I knew to ask for the
epidural right away this time!" Tara laughed.
Scully smiled, thinking that Tara was sweet not to have
alluded to all the additional stress of what had been
going on with Emily while she was going into labor. Her
brother had found himself a nicer wife than he deserved.
A lovely wife who was also speaking a language Scully
would never understand.
"I think she's nodding off," Tara said, lifting the baby
up and supporting her while rubbing her back gently.
Her engorged breast hung there in the air and Scully
found herself carefully ignoring it while Tara
concentrated on the delicate maneuver of burping a
sleepy newborn.
Mission accomplished, Tara covered up and turned to her
sister-in-law. "Hold her while I find something to
eat?"
And so Scully settled into her chair with a sleeping
Katy in her arms, while Tara went hunting for snacks.
She felt incredibly stiff and tense for awhile and
reflected that it was amazing how heavy seven pounds of
infant could feel. Then she began to relax as Katy
slumbered on. She sniffed her burden and recognized the
smells of hospital linens, A and D ointment, a faint
whiff of baby urine, and something sweet that might be
essence of baby, might be mother's milk. Then she
catalogued Katy's little bumps and scratches, the
product of her delivery and her own infant fingernails.
"Sunshine cup? Jello?" Tara asked, coming back with an
armful of crackers and hospital desserts.
"No, thanks. I think I've had enough hospital jello to
last me a lifetime."
Tara eyed her curiously. "So I've heard."
A slight silence ensued, but Tara filled it with
ravenous eating. Scully thought about how best to say
goodnight.
"It's funny how life changes," Tara said, swallowing
food quickly. "Five years ago I'm not sure I would have
believed this day would ever come."
"Because it took so long?" Scully asked, mentally replaying
what she knew of her brother's marriage. Bill and Tara had
been
together for over 10 years now. "I know you were having
trouble."
In Scully's arms, Katy suddenly grimaced and twisted
and turned a vivid red, her little mouth opening wide.
Scully eagerly handed her back to Tara, who brushed away
cracker crumbs and tried the breast again, with success.
"We ended up doing in vitro, you know. Matthew and Katy
are actually from the same batch of embryos."
Scully nodded politely, wishing she didn't have to hear this.
Tara cooed at her daughter. "So you're very special,
aren't you, Katy, love? And I'm *so* grateful there's
only one of you." She looked over at Scully. "The
first time, we wouldn't have minded twins, or even
triplets. This time we were praying hard for just one,
please. Much better idea of what we were getting into."
Scully smiled, recalling her day with Matthew. "I can
imagine."
Tara's voice suddenly got very low. "Dana, have you
ever thought about using IVF or something like that?"
Was the room emptying of oxygen? Scully took a deep
breath. "Tara -- I'm not even married."
"But if you were -- it could solve --"
"I don't have any eggs left," Scully said roughly.
"None worth counting, anyway. So it wouldn't work for
me."
"People donate eggs, you know, Dana. Even embryos."
Tara swallowed. When Scully didn't say anything, she
added, "I only brought it up, because, you know, we have
these embryos left, and we're not planning to use them."
Scully looked at Tara in shock. She was speechless.
"Does Bill know about this?" she asked at last.
"We've talked about it a lot. We both just feel so bad
for you, Dana. We know what it feels like, better than
most."
"But -- Tara -- these are *your* children. Yours and
Bill's."
"Genetically ours, I know, but they're just little
clumps of cells right now," Tara said. "Not anything to
speak of yet. And we don't want a huge family. Two is
all we need." She looked contentedly at her daughter
for a moment. "It's just a possibility, Dana. They're
not the top grade ones anyway. I don't even know if
it would work for you. We have six left from the
original seventeen, and we planned to donate them to
somebody who needed them. But we wanted to give you the
option, just in case. I mean, it would be a chance to
have child who has some of your family's genetic
heritage."
Scully just sat there, intensely uncomfortable.
"They're paid up in storage through June," Tara added.
"So it's not a big rush."
"Tara--" Scully struggled for something to say. "It's
just so much more complicated than I can ever explain."
"It's okay, Dana. No rush, as I said. We're just
letting you know."
"And Bill's willing to do this without any conditions?"
Scully asked, disbelieving.
"Well, one," Tara admitted. "We want to be the
godparents."
Scully felt her eyes fill with tears.
Tara pretended not to notice. "Mind you, I can't
guarantee that Bill won't feel entitled to give you
unsolicited advice about every aspect of your life and
theirs. But then he already does that -- with
everybody."
Scully laughed shakily. God, she had that one right.
"It's a very, very kind offer, Tara. I'm really
touched. I don't see how I can possibly accept, but I
really appreciate it."
"Just think about it," Tara urged her. "Hey, I think
this kid has passed out again."
"Looks that way," Scully agreed, as Tara gently detached
her sleeping newborn and held her up to her nose to
sniff whether a diaper change was in order. It looked
strangely primitive, even animalistic, and Scully felt a
powerful pang of envy.
She rose to go. "Do you need anything?"
"No, we're all set," Tara said. "Think I'll get some
sleep while I can. There won't be much of that for the
next few months. Oh, and Dana?"
"Yes?"
"We didn't tell your mom about this. The offer, I
mean."
Scully nodded gratefully and made her escape.
End of Part 2
Tara and Katy came home the next day, although Katy had
turned up with high bilirubin levels and therefore spent
all her sleeping time swathed in a light-emitting
blanket that helped her infant liver do its job. Tara
and Bill were unfazed, having gone through the same
routine with Matthew.
Bill and Tara cooed over their newborn, held the
suddenly needy Matthew when they could, slept, and
entertained the guests who dropped by with frilly little
dresses and casseroles. Scully slept through most of
it, but rolled over at comings and goings during the
night often enough to realize that the first week home
with a baby was a strange existence out of normal time,
an abandonment of the boundaries between night and day.
Maggie quietly cooked and did laundry and made life
easier for her daughter-in-law. Scully played with
Matthew, who sorely needed her attention, and hoped it
was not too obvious that she left most of her niece's
fairly rare waking hours to others.
Neither Bill nor Tara mentioned their offer again,
though Bill gave Scully a few significant looks.
Scully, for her part, was longing to escape back to her
life but found herself strangely reluctant to call
Mulder and check in.
After three days without contact, he finally called her.
"Having fun?" he asked.
"I now know more about Thomas the Tank Engine and his
friends than I had ever thought possible," was Scully's
dry reply.
"Who?"
"Never mind," she said. "Hey, you'd get a kick out of
Katy right now. She's wrapped in this buzzing high-tech
blanket, glows in the dark, very alien looking."
There was silence on the other end.
"It helps her liver break down bilirubin," she offered.
"Is she okay?" He sounded worried.
"Oh yeah, she's fine. A lot of babies have this."
"Oh. So, when you coming home, G-woman?"
"I don't know. Got anything interesting?" Scully asked.
"I've got a woman in Connecticut who claims that aliens
have replaced her husband with a doppelganger. Curious
thing is, the guys work for the social security
administration."
"What does he say?"
"She didn't want me to tip him off that she knows."
"Mmmm," Scully said. "Have you checked her medical
records?"
"She didn't sign the release. I thought maybe you'd
want to assess her state of mind yourself," Mulder said,
enticingly.
"Well, that sounds like a plan," Scully said, not
bothering with her traditional protest that this tip was
obviously nothing more than the ravings of a madwoman.
"Let me see what I can do for a flight."
xxx
Nobody made more than a token fuss about her leaving.
Tara gave her a warm hug and thanked her for coming, and
Maggie told her to please be careful and have a nice
flight.
Bill drove her to the airport. They hadn't really had a
private conversation yet, so Scully wasn't too surprised
when he cleared his throat and broached the topic.
"Tara told you about the embryos."
"Yeah," Scully said. "And I told her I didn't see how
I could do it, Bill. But I really appreciate the offer."
"We know how it feels, Dana. Years of wondering if we
would ever become parents."
Even at the risk of getting into an argument, Scully
couldn't resist satisfying her curiosity. "Bill, I know
you don't approve of the way I live my life. Why would
you want to watch a child who's genetically yours be
brought up by someone like me?"
"You're my sister," Bill said, tightly. "And I trust
you to do the right thing for your child. Any child,
for that matter. You and Mulder, both."
Scully gave him a confused glance.
"I know I haven't exactly been in your partner's fan
club, but I guess I realized after what happened with
Emily that he's an inescapable fact of your life. Maybe
not even a totally bad one."
Good Lord, that was a shift. Of course, he didn't quite
get it. "Bill, we're not together in the way that you
appear to think we are."
"Uh huh," Bill said, with obvious skepticism. Then he
continued, more seriously, "I have to admit, Dana, I
can't help hoping that having this opportunity might
help you to take a different path. One that might make
you happier. Might even save your life, based on what
I've seen. Maybe both your lives."
Scully chewed on that in silence while Bill negotiated
the airport's busy lanes. When he pulled up to her
terminal she turned to him and asked, very seriously,
"Bill, if you knew that what Mulder and I were doing
might be directly related to Matthew and Katy's future,
would you still want us to walk away from it?"
There was an awkward silence. Then Bill gave her a sad
and earnest look. "Dana, isn't it possible that you're
overestimating your importance in the vast scheme of
things?"
She looked back at him, unflinching. "It's entirely
possible. But I've also seen too much to just walk away
and hope for the best."
Bill smiled grimly, as if she'd just confirmed his worst
fears for his sister's hold on sanity. "Just think
about it, that's all we ask," he said. He leaned
forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for
coming. And have a good flight."
"Thanks, Bill, " Scully said, getting out of the car.
"For everything."
Bill just nodded and drove off.
xxx
Early the next morning, a very tired Scully found
herself in the passenger seat of Mulder's car heading
north on I-95. A light drizzle was falling in the
predawn and was expected to switch over to sleet later
in the day in Washington and to snow further north.
"Mulder, why didn't we just fly?"
"Travel allowance is shot for the month?"
"Is it?"
"Ah, Scully, you know with all the flight delays they're
threatening tonight, we're just as well off driving."
"Right. Much safer," Scully said in her flattest tone.
"And we can enjoy each other's company better without
all those intrusive airline attendants," Mulder said.
"Oh, well, that explains it then," Scully agreed, with a
small smile and a yawn.
"Plus this way you get a larger seat to sleep in,"
Mulder added, clearly aware that she was going to drop
off any minute.
"Mmmmm," she agreed, and was soon sound asleep.
xxx
She is trying to squeeze onto a very crowded elevator at
the Hoover building, and people are staring at her. She
isn't sure why, until she looks down and realizes that
she is tremendously pregnant. She is stunned, and feels
herself flush with embarrassment.
Then she has maneuvered herself into Mulder's office,
and is asking him, "How the hell did this happen?"
"Bill got you pregnant, remember?"
She is perplexed for a moment, then realizes, oh yeah,
those embryos. But she doesn't remember agreeing to
anything. "No."
"You're due in a week," he says, matter-of-factly. "You
should be home right now."
"Why didn't I know about this?"
"Come on, Scully, I know you like to ignore things right
in front of your face, but this is ridiculous."
Suddenly she feels an unmistakeable tightening across
her belly and she gasps. "I think I'm having a
contraction."
"I'll call Bill," Mulder says.
"Bill? What about you?"
"What about me?" He looks puzzled.
"Aren't you ...?"
He starts dialing the phone and looks at her with
obvious confusion. "Scully, this is something you
worked out with Bill. I don't want anything to do with
it, you know that."
She stares at him, aghast.
"By the way," he adds, "I think your water just broke."
She looks down at a spreading puddle at her feet."
"Tell you what," he says, putting the phone down. "I'll
get you some paper towels, okay?" and he leaves, closing
the door behind him.
xxx
Scully woke with a start to the sound of the car door
closing. She looked around, orienting herself. Gas
station. Grey wintry day. Could be anywhere between
Washington and Connecticut. And she needed to pee.
When she returned to the car, Mulder handed her a coffee
and a bagel. "Morning, sunshine," he drawled. "Though
technically I believe we're getting into the afternoon hours,
here."
"And where is here?" she asked.
"Southington. Nearly there. You've been sleeping like
the dead. I have to admit, there were times I was
almost wishing for an intrusive airline attendant to talk
to."
"Sorry," she said. "Jetlagged, I guess."
He gave her a small smile to show she was forgiven and
headed the car back to the interstate.
She sat and sipped and recalled her dream and thought,
no, that will never happen. Not any part of it.
xxx
"Mrs. Corbierre, what makes you think your husband is an
alien imposter?"
Mulder and Scully were both perched on the edge of a
brown neocolonial sofa in Annette Corbierre's deeply-
shagged family room, while their interview subject
rocked herself gently in an upholstered rocker studded
with doilies.
"He has changed in some very subtle but important ways,"
Annette Corbierre said, plump fingers lacing and
unlacing nervously.
Mulder opened his mouth, but Scully quickly leaped in
before he could lead the woman into even greater fancies
than she could come up with on their own. "How so?" she
asked.
Mrs. Corbierre bit her lip. "Agent Scully, are you
married?"
Scully couldn't help glancing at Mulder. "No."
"Well, then you might not understand."
"Not understand what?" Scully asked as patiently as she
could.
Mrs. Corbierre looked like she wanted to cry. "Anton
went to work two Fridays ago, just the same as always.
But he didn't come home until Saturday morning. The
first time he's ever done that. I was frantic, calling
hospitals, trying to get the police to look for him. He
finally showed up Saturday and he said, as if it were
nothing at all, 'I had things to do.' All cool and
distant like it was no big deal. And since then he's
remained just like that -- polite and distant, not
involved with me, not involved with the kids, just going
through the motions."
"Does he seem to remember your names, basic information,
things that happened before then?"
She sniffled. "Yes, but it's as if it's just ... well,
information. Data. Not attached to any feeling or
anything. He could be a robot for all the emotion he
shows. Or worse. He seems to take us all as if, well,
we smell bad or something." She looked beseechingly at
Scully. "Can you imagine how that feels?"
"Terrible, I'm sure," Scully agreed. "But Mrs.
Corbierre, what is it specifically that makes you think
aliens have anything to do with the change in your
husband's behavior?"
"Well, who else has the ability to replace a man with a
complete duplicate like that? I mean, it just stands to
reason, doesn't it?"
Scully licked her lips and turned to her partner, whose
face had turned carefully impassive. She was suddenly
struck by an expected revelation: He'd known this.
He'd known that Annette Corbierre was just a sad,
confused woman who didn't know how to cope with her
husband's midlife crisis. And he'd still dragged them
both up here through an incipient nor'easter. She
peered at him, puzzled and somewhat offended.
Mulder appeared to sense that he was losing credibility.
"Your husband works for the social security office in
Hartford, yes?"
Annette looked confused. "Yes."
"He has access to the records of thousands of people?"
he continued.
"Actually, he just works in their maintenance
department," she said. "You know, changes light bulbs,
plows snow, keeps the building running and all."
Mulder had the grace to look embarrassed. Scully
sighed. "Mrs. Corbierre," she said, gently. "As you
know, Agent Mulder and I do have experience in this
area. I'm very happy to tell you that your husband
really doesn't demonstrate any of the telltale signs of
--" she couldn't help wincing slightly -- "alien
replacement. I think perhaps you should talk to him and
see if something is bothering him. Maybe you just need
to work through some issues as a couple."
Mrs. Corbierre looked stricken. "Oh my God. You think
he's having an affair, don't you?"
Scully looked helplessly at Mulder.
"That's not what we think at all," he said, in his most
soothing voice. "Tell me, did your husband recently
experience a significant loss, or perhaps a birthday or
some other event?"
Annette sniffed disconsolately. "He turned 53 last
month. I don't see what that has to do with anything,
though."
"Is Mr. Corbierre's father still alive?" Mulder asked.
That earned him a puzzled look. "Oh no, he died years
ago, just after we got married."
"How old was his father when he died?"
"Um... oh." Annette looked surprised. "Fifty-three.
Everyone thought, what a pity, just fifty-three and dead
so suddenly." Realization dawned. "Oh ... I see."
Mulder nodded. "Mrs. Corbierre, I suspect your husband
could use all the love and support you could possibly
give him right now."
"Oh," she said, a note of hope finally creeping into her
voice. She smiled shyly. "Not an alien, then," she
said.
"No," Mulder said. "And I think it's safe to say that's
always a good thing."
xxx
In the car, Scully just sat and looked at him and
waited.
He was obviously trying to ignore her and pulled into
traffic nonchalantly. The wipers thwacked back and
forth, sweeping pebbles of frozen rain off the
windshield.
"You knew this was completley bogus before we ever came
up here," she finally accused him.
"I admit I had suspicions," Mulder said. "So did you,
I'm sure, but you didn't argue about checking it out
anyway."
"So really this was all just an elaborate ruse to give
me an excuse to leave California?"
"It was entirely up to you to come or not," he said
mildly.
"You know, Mr. Corbierre probably *is* having an
affair," she said, relevant to nothing in particular.
"Well, maybe if she suddenly begins to shower him with
love and affection, their marriage will be saved and she
need never be the wiser," he said, in a suddenly bleak tone.
Ever alert to a Mulder mood heading south, Scully roused
herself. No doubt he'd thought he was doing her a
favor, and was disappointed to find that she seemed
completely lacking in gratitude. Or, it might have
occurred to him that he couldn't exactly look forward to
anyone showering *him* with love and affection any time
in the near future.
Find something nice to say, she thought. "That was
clever of you, to figure out what the problem was so
quickly."
"Actually, I'd already checked out his father's death
certificate," Mulder said, but he looked gratified
nonetheless. "I told you I had my suspicions."
"So, Mulder, where are we going?" she asked.
"Back to I84."
Despite her resolution to behave more cheerfully, she
couldn't help a note of outrage. "We're driving all the
way back to D.C. tonight, in this?"
"No," he said patiently. "We're stopping at an Inn in
Southbury and having a very nice dinner and then staying
overnight in two lovely rooms." After a moment, he
looked over at her. "If that's okay with you."
She nodded, feeling out of her depth. "It sounds very
nice," she said, faintly.
"Good," he said, grimly, focusing on the increasingly
difficult driving.
"And that's why we didn't fly?" Scully asked.
He didn't answer. She sat back and watched the road.
The wipers thwacked back and forth. The frozen rain had
turned to a wet, heavy snow which swirled crazily in the
wind. There were fewer cars on the road now, and Scully
had the odd apprehension that they would be on this road
forever.
End of Part 3
But they weren't, of course. The Inn was set back on a
quiet road, now exceedingly scenic with all the trees
coated in four or five inches of heavy snow. The car
fishtailed gently on the last turn up the driveway.
"I'll check us in," he said, and disappeared.
Scully sat there and felt as if her entire life had
become a passive exercise in going along with other
people's plans. Her mom wanted her to go help Tara with
a baby, so she went. Mulder suddenly took it into his
head to plan an expedition, and here she was. The
consortium wanted her ova, and by God they had them all.
The FBI wanted her services, and thanks to who she was
and Mulder was and the bad guys were, she was pretty
much stuck with that. She felt a tide of peevishness
rise up in her and at the same time felt ashamed,
because here was Mulder stepping up and doing something
nice for her and she just couldn't appreciate it
properly.
He came back and motioned her in, took the luggage into
the lobby, gave her a key, then took off to park the
car. "See you at the room," he called. "Dinner's
casual here, if you want to change."
The room was lovely. Quilt on the bed, fat chocolate
chip cookie on the quilt, a partially fogged window
overlooking a snow-covered landscape, and all the
amenities she never expected from their usual lodgings:
a coffee maker, an iron, a refrigerator, extra pillows
and blankets. Flowers on the table.
Flowers on the table?
It was a nice big vase of mixed flowers. And there was
no card, which was almost a relief. Mulder was, after
all, a man who couldn't give her flowers even in the
hospital without claiming he'd stolen them from some guy
on crutches. And yet, here they were.
Feeling her pulse suddenly beating faster with a strange
sort of excitement, she decided to change into jeans and
a sweater and do her best not to seem rattled.
He knocked on the door about twenty minutes later, newly
shaved, dressed casually, and smelling of cologne.
"Wow, nice flowers," he said, looking impressed.
"Yes, beautiful," she said. "I'm thinking maybe they
stole them from some guy on crutches."
"Could be," he said. "Let's go, I'm starving."
So she followed him to the dining room, which was cozy
and firelit and altogether not their usual fare. She
found herself sitting there, heart pounding, licking her
dry lips repeatedly, and scanning the menu without
actually reading any of it. In short, she was
experiencing all the full blazing terror of a first
date.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said.
"You really hate this, don't you?"
"No, I like it," she said, but she didn't sound too
convincing.
He looked deflated. "Scully, this doesn't have to be
anything different than any other meal or motel we've
ever shared. I just thought it would be nice, for a
change, to try to show you a good time, you know? Give
you something nice to come home to."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Ah hell," he said.
"Mulder, I cry when people are nice to me," she said,
trying to explain.
He looked appraisingly at her. "I guess I haven't been
nice to you very often, then."
She blew her nose. "You've had your moments."
He smiled briefly. She tried to relax -- it was just
Mulder, after all -- and was able to read enough of the
menu to order dinner a few moments later.
After the waiter left, an awkward silence fell. She
sipped the excellent wine, chewed on a roll, and looked
around the room, umcomfortably conscious that he was
studying her.
"So, Scully, other than shock that your partner is being
unexpectedly nice, is there anything else bothering
you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because you seem bothered?"
She looked at him and he looked back. This is where she
would normally crack a minor witticism or find some
other way to say she was fine, thank you, and that would
be the end of it. But Mulder had broken out of his
usual pattern today. Maybe she should reciprocate.
"I guess life sometimes has a way of offering you things
you just aren't prepared for," she said, by way of
introduction.
He looked chagrined. "I kind of overdid it with the
flowers, huh?"
"The flowers?" she asked, confused. "No, the flowers
are lovely. It's Tara and Bill. They offered me
something I just wasn't ready to even think about."
He waited.
She sighed. She was fairly sure this was the end of any
pleasant fantasy either of them might have had about
sharing a romantic evening together. "Matthew and Katy
were conceived using in vitro fertilization," she
explained. "In the process, a number of embryos were
created. And now that they have their family, Bill and
Tara offered me the ones they haven't used yet."
Mulder's mouth dropped open.
She took another sip of wine and shrugged. "So you can
see why I might be a little preoccupied."
"Well, yeah," he said. He took a gulp of his beer. "Do
you want to do it?"
She shook her head no automatically. "It's like I said.
Sometimes life offers you something you're just not
ready for."
"You could get ready for it if you wanted to," he
pointed out.
"What, you think I should seriously consider taking them
up on this?" she asked, disbelieving.
"I don't think this is about what I think," he said carefully.
Oh.
She knew he was trying to be respectful of her personal
choice, but it still felt like he'd cast her away. She
sipped her wine carefully, trying not to betray her
sense of desolation.
He looked miserably at her. "That wasn't the right
answer, was it?"
"It was if it's what you really think," she said in a
low voice.
Mulder bowed his head. "Scully," he said, "You just
told me you have an opportunity you thought you'd never
have. I admit, it doesn't fit in with any hopes I had
for this evening, or this year, or maybe even this
decade, but who am I to tell you one way or another?"
"I guess you're the closest thing I've got to someone
whose opinion I'd want to have on the matter," she said
bleakly. "Which maybe is a sad commentary on the state
of my life, but there you have it."
He winced, and looked around the nearly empty
restaurant. Snow was still falling heavily and
collecting in all the crevices of the window frames.
"Well, this is really fun."
She gave him a sad smile of commiseration.
The food arrived and they both pecked at it
halfheartedly.
"You know, your brother has made it very clear that he
thinks I'm one sorry son of a bitch," Mulder said.
"Those were his exact words, in fact. So let's say you
go ahead and have this child, and let's say it's a
little boy. I'm thinking as soon as he can talk the
first thing he'll say to me is --" Mulder imitated a
high-pitched little kid voice -- "'you sorry son of a
bitch.' And then he'll grow up to look exactly like
Bill. So I'm not completely unbiased in this matter."
Scully lifted an eyebrow.
"But that would probably never happen anyway," he
continued, "because they probably told you this
arrangement was contingent on you leaving the X Files
and never consorting with your crazy partner again,
right?"
"Actually," she said, "the only string attached was that
they wanted to be godparents. And I was somewhat
surprised to find that Bill assumes we're together."
It was Mulder's turn to lift an eyebrow. "You sure your
*brother* hasn't been replaced by an alien imposter?"
"Well, it wasn't a total personality change," she said.
"I think the way he put it was something like he'd
decided you were 'not a totally bad thing.' But that's
definitely an improvement. You must have impressed him
...." She trailed off, instinctively shying away from
any direct mention of Emily.
"God knows how I managed that," Mulder said in a voice
ripe with self-disgust.
"Mulder," she said, reaching out and grabbing his hand.
"Even a certified asshole like my brother could see that
you tried your best to be there for me."
He ducked his head for a moment. Then he looked up, his
face determined. "Because I love you, Scully," he said,
simply, as if in explanation.
She stared back at him, speechless.
When she didn't say anything, he laughed shakily.
"Another one of those things life is throwing at you
lately that you're not ready for?"
"No," she said, quickly rousing herself. "No, Mulder.
I think I've been ready for this one for awhile."
He looked cautious. "Really?"
She nodded, fighting tears and failing miserably. God,
what a couple they were! She was quite sure normal
people could go out to for dinner and announce their
love for each other without sobbing uncontrollably.
Mulder was kneeling on the floor next to her chair and
wrapping her his arms before she'd quite realized
what was happening. "Oh, Scully. I'm sorry it took
me so long," he muttered.
"S'okay," she said, sniffing. Then she laughed weakly.
"What?" he asked.
"Here we are, Mulder," she said, in a high-pitched,
almost hysterical voice somewhere between crying and
laughing, "in a really nice restaurant in a beautiful
inn on a snowy New England evening. So, in the midst of
all this romantic ambiance, I tell you about my
brother's leftover embryos; then you tell me you love me
and I thank you for it by completely losing it. I mean,
no wonder it took you six years to work up your courage.
As it is I half expect some alien to arrive at our table
any minute."
"Well, then, maybe we should think about getting out of
the dining room," he murmured.
She took a shuddering breath. "Okay," she said in a small
voice.
So they left, only peripherally aware of the staff, who
were observing these high-strung guests with trepidation
and giving them plenty of room.
When they got to the door of her room, he didn't follow
her in. She turned around, taken aback that he was
hanging in the doorway.
"I think you've had kind of a rough day," he said, as if
in explanation. "We don't have to rush anything, you
know."
"I thought the day was finally looking up," she countered,
disappointed.
"Really?" He couldn't help perking up, she noticed.
She walked further into the room to admire her flowers.
Unfortunately, that also gave her a glimpse at her make-
up strewn face and puffy red nose. Christ, she looked
like an X File. "Um, do you mind if I go wash my face?
I'd like to lose the Tammy Faye look."
He looked relieved and said, "Sure. I'll be right back."
When she came out of the bathroom he was sitting on the
end of her bed, flipping channels on the TV and reeking
of mouthwash.
She sat down next to him and he looked at her with what
she recognized as subdued panic. "Okay, Mulder," she
said. "Teeth brushed, face washed, anything else we
should check for here? Bees? Listening devices?
Sexually transmitted diseases?"
"Already looked, room's clean. And I'm clean, unless
you count unknown alien viruses," he offered.
"Same here, I guess," she said.
Well, this was romantic. Apparently they had passed the
point of being spontaneously carried away on a wave of
passion, quite possibly by a matter of years. She sat
on the end of the bed next to him and thought, how do we
do this? Should I just jump his bones? Was there
anything that might help this extremely tense man
sitting next to her relax and enjoy the evening?
She grabbed his hand. "You do know I love you, don't
you?" she asked, finally raising her eyes to his.
And that was all it took. Lips met and parted, tongues
greeted each other, hands caressed, arms enfolded, breaths were sighed, and
two souls long parted came together at last.
xxx
Water is rushing around her, bubbling and gurgling, and
she is swimming effortlessly. She realizes with some
surprise that she is completely naked, and that even
though the stream is cold she is completely comfortable.
The need to breathe doesn't appear to be an issue, and
she ducks in and out of the water and watches her breath
form little puffs of vapor in the cold air.
She is bobbing and swimming happily when she realizes
that her mom is on the farther shore, with Bill and Tara
and Melissa and her Dad and Emily and Charlie and all of
Charlie's family, too. The living and the dead don't
seem to find it remarkable that they're hanging out
there together, so she doesn't think much about it.
"Dana! Dana!" they are all yelling -- all except Emily,
who is just watching.
"Dana Katherine, come back!"
She knows they want her to swim back to shore. She
knows they expect her to. But she can't leave this
beautiful cold stream, where she is swimming so
effortlessly, and trade it in for a heavy climb on to
the rocks. She'd explain it to them if she could, but
she can't. So she waves.
Her brother, she notices, has pulled out his fishing
tackle. He casts toward her with a hook, and on the
hook is a carrot.
A carrot? Get real, Bill, she thinks, and swims further
downstream.
Then she realizes that someone is in the water with her,
and she is delighted to find that Emily has joined her.
Emily darts around her, swimming just as effortlessly,
smiling and playing. Scully is delighted, but all too
soon she realizes that Emily has swum much further
along, and is waving goodbye.
She wants to yell at her to return, but she has no voice
to yell with. Bubbles come out of her mouth and rise to
the surface and break. Emily smiles and waves and darts
away. Scully swims as hard as she can after her, but
she can't catch up. She supposes she is crying into the
stream, but her tears wash away immediately in the cold
rushing water. Finally, she finds herself bobbing
around in a dark, deep pool in a quiet stretch of the
water, and she wonders if she should have swum away from
her family like that, for now it appears that she is all
alone.
Then she realizes that Mulder is sitting on the shore,
not far from her, watching intently.
Will he try to catch me with a carrot, she wonders.
Will he tell me we're due in Skinner's office in an
hour? She kicks her heels out of the water and
splashes, showing off, showering him with water.
And then he's in the water with her, as naked as she is,
darting and playing and splashing. He captures her and
surrounds her and closes his mouth tenderly on her
throat in some ancient fishy way of mating, and they
move as one, ecstatic with the heady completion of it.
xxxx
She woke to the sound of water dripping from the eaves,
the trees, from every icy surface now melting in the
bright sun. Mulder, she discovered, had his arms
wrapped around her from behind and was slowly,
maddeningly kissing her ears, her jaw, her neck.
"Mmmmm?" she asked.
"Morning," he said huskily. "You were dreaming. I
saw your eyes moving."
"I was a fish in a stream," she said dreamily. "And you
were there. You were a fish, too."
"Is that a good thing?" he asked.
"Oh yeah," she said, as he began to kiss her again.
"You swam with me."
He grunted and continued trailing kisses down her
clavicle.
"I'm so surprised, Mulder," she said. "I always hoped,
someday, that we might take some comfort in each other
along the way. But to feel like this, I never expected
it."
"Feel like what?" he asked, pulling her back toward him
and continuing his kisses along her collarbone and down
to her breasts while his other hand explored further
regions.
"Like God is smiling on us. Like what is missing can be
found, like what is broken can be repaired," she said,
then hissed as his explorations paid off. "Oh, my God."
He smiled against her belly. "I know you want to worship
me for my superlative skills in bed, but please don't call me
God."
"Uhhh," was all she could reply.
"Though I am feeling rather Godlike at the moment," he
confessed. "Like I could do anything. Like together we can
do anything. In fact, the only thing beyond conception to me
right now," he said, "is that we will ever be apart."
She sighed in pleasure.
"In fact, if you'll allow me, I'd like to demonstrate exactly
how very, very together we can be."
And so he did.
####
END OF PART FOUR
Later, they ate breakfast in the nearly deserted
restaurant, checked the rapidly improving road
conditions, and decided they'd give it another hour
before trying to head back to D.C.
The Inn was connected to a little tourist mall and they
wandered through, the only customers in sight, holding hands
and checking out the antiques and gifts. One of the little
shops was a bookstore, and while Mulder got absorbed in
one of the latest UFO books, Scully found herself
wandering into the children's section.
"Can I help you find something?" the clerk asked.
She was a friendly looking older woman. Scully appraised
her for a moment before asking, "Do you know a book called
'The Runaway Bunny'?"
"Of course," the woman replied. "The classic by
Margaret Wise Brown. Every young child should have it,
if you ask me. Well, that and 'Goodnight Moon'." She
pulled out the book and handed it to Scully. "I might
also have it in hardcover around here somewhere if you
want," she said.
"No, that's okay," Scully said, and the woman tactfully
retreated. Scully looked at the book intently, but it
didn't seem familiar until she opened it and started
reading.
Mulder came and looked over her shoulder. "Is this
where you got the dream about being a fish?" he asked.
"You know this book?" Scully asked.
"Sure, I used to read it to Samantha when she was
little. She loved it."
Another child who was taken away, Scully thought,
another mother who couldn't do a thing about it. And a
brother who'd tried for years, transformed himself into
all manner of things, but still couldn't find her.
"You okay?" Mulder asked.
"We tell these stories to children so they won't be
afraid," she said. "But when I think of all the lost
children --"
"Like Emily?"
"Emily," she agreed, and continued, "Samantha, and all
the children who are murdered, all the children who are
missing and never found, all the children who get sick
and die..."
He waited.
She sighed. "I guess, I just wish it were really this
easy to keep it from happening. But it's not."
"Yet most children do survive," he reminded her gently.
"I know," she said. "I know."
"Scully," Mulder said. "God knows I wish we could do
this the old-fashioned way. But there's a whole world
of children out there who need a mother who will protect
them as fiercely as you do. However you want to do
that, we'll do it. As my favorite G-woman trying to
keep the whole world safe, or as an adoptive mother
driving a minivan, or even if you really want to have
those little uber-Bill-and-Tara's, we'll do it."
She stared at him, amazed. He didn't flinch. Then she
smiled brilliantly. "I'm sorry, but what have you done
with Fox Mulder?" she asked lightly, taking the book up
to the counter.
"All right, so I was lying about the mini van. Cut me a
break, Scully."
"I'd like to buy this for my niece," she told the clerk.
After she paid, they wandered out onto the front walk
and squinted into the brilliant sunshine reflecting off
a foot of new snow. "So you actually think you're ready
for fatherhood, Mulder?"
"No, but I have faith that you'll get my ass whipped
into shape for it quick enough."
"You know, I'm beginning to think that anything is
possible," she said.
"I've been telling you that for years," he replied
smugly.
She looked at him with all the gratitude she felt.
"Don't expect me to ever say this again, Mulder, but I
know you have. And please, don't ever stop."
THE END
If you liked it, please let me know...
And if the site ever comes back up (I believe it
USUALLY is up), you can find my other fanfic at:
http://members.xoom.com/Alelou123/
(
geocities.com/area51/orion/5345) (
geocities.com/area51/orion) (
geocities.com/area51)