========================
Happily-Ever-After Story
========================
==========
"Scully, if you think this is going to be some kind of happy-ever-
after story, you're wrong. It's not." -- Mulder, The Emilys
==========
"Here baby, hold this."
Libby took the toothpaste from her father and watched as he screwed
the cap on with one hand, then plucked it from her fingers and set it
back down.
"Thanks."
She nodded and rested her chin on the sink, her eyes lifting to the
mirror to watch her Daddy as he brushed his teeth with one hand and
shaved with the other.
He was late.
Libby's mother scooted in and grabbed a towel, then damp dried her
hair and brushed it out, manuevering with skill in their small single
bathroom with Mulder's big bulk taking up most of the room.
Neither one made Libby move.
Checking in the mirror to make certain of her appearance one last
time, Scully ran her fingers through her hair and then her eyes
strayed to Mulder.
He struggled to focus on not spitting out on his electric razor and
to shave his chin as best as possible.
And then Mulder's eyes strayed to the side and found his girls
staring at the process intently as he fumbled.
Mulder and Scully's eyes met in the mirror and she smiled shyly.
He turned and deposited his toothbrush back into the holder, then
grabbed for his little girl.
Balancing her on the toilet he handed her the razor.
"I'm not doing such a good job, Libby. Wanna help?"
Libby's mouth dropped open and she glanced up at him. "I can't do
it."
He chuckled at the roundness of her eyes. "Sure you can."
She made a feeble attempt to let it buzz down his cheek, then she
shuddered and pushed it back in his hands. "I don't want to hurt you
Daddy."
Mulder brushed a hand through her hair and nodded. "It's okay."
Then he winked at her. "Think Mommy would do it for me?"
Libby cast a sly look to Scully, as if it was just her and Mulder in the
little bathroom and her mother had no idea what was about to happen.
She nodded eagerly.
Mulder turned to Scully, and before she could say no, shoved the
electric razor into her hands and leaned back against the sink.
Waiting.
She stared at him a moment, then shook her head.
"Mulder, I --"
"Sure you can."
She stopped, glanced at him again and then sighed. "What are you
having problems with?"
His eyes seemed to glitter a bit and he turned his head to wink at
Libby.
"My chin. I can't get the right angle. I figured since you're so
short, you could get it."
She poked his stomach and held the razor mockingly. "I warn you.
Don't make short jokes when I'm holding a sharp instrument."
His eyebrows twitching, Mulder nodded solemnly, then put his hands to
her hips and moved her in front of him.
"Okay, now."
She reached out a tentative hand and steadied his head, her fingers
wrapping around her neck and her thumb sliding up his throat.
The way his Adam's apple jumped made her feel a small thread of heat
ignite in her, and she tried not to look in his eyes.
She had to move in close though, in order to get the right amount of
pressure, and soon she was leaning against his chest, with his hands
placed solidly on her hips to balance her.
Concentrating intensely on his chin, she managed to push aside the
smaller things: like how her body responded being so close, and the
way he smelled of toothpaste and clean soap.
She finished and leaned a bit away, still in his arms, still close
enough.
He smiled at her suddenly flushed look and dipped his head to kiss
her nose.
"Thank you, Mommy," he whispered.
The words sent a spike of hot energy through her and she pushed away,
fussing with Libby and the razor and not looking in his eyes.
She was afraid of what she was letting this become.
==========
That night, Libby was put to bed with her moving bear and given a
long story about a prince who had a sword battle with the bad guy to
save the Princess Dana, and then Scully sat in on the last of it and
amended that the princess then had to save the foolish prince from
huge dragons all by herself.
Which made Mulder smile all the more.
When Libby nodded off to sleep, they snuck from her bedroom and into
the hallway, where he stopped her for a moment.
"Close your eyes."
She stared at him. "What?"
"Close your eyes. I want to show you something."
"I can't see anything if my eyes are closed."
He smiled and pushed his hand over her lids, the contact slow and
soothing, sending shocks through her.
When her eyes were closed, he kissed her lips with a brush of his
mouth, then led her back to their bedroom.
==========
"Mulder --"
"Almost there Scully."
She felt an odd sense of panic in her, almost like she didn't quite
trust him. It made her stomach sort of flutter and her hands sweat at
the realization that she never knew what Mulder was up to.
Then her knees hit the back of the bed and she sank down, face calm
as his hands squeezed her shoulders.
"Can I open my eyes now?"
"Not yet," he said and she could tell that his head was turned by the
far away sound in his voice.
Then he was kneeling right in front of her, his hands on her thighs, and
she could feel his stare as he watched her.
He took one of her hands, her left hand, and pried open her fingers
with gentle movements, punctuating each fingertip with a kiss.
It sent a heady rush through her body, claiming parts of her she
never thought she'd given over to him.
Then a piece of warm metal was placed in her palm.
"Open your eyes."
She felt her lashes graze her cheeks and she had a wild clutching
sort of feeling in her chest.
Her eyes fell to her open hand.
A gold ring lay nestled there.
She jerked up to see Mulder, to understand what he was trying to say
with this, to know where he wanted to go.
What were they letting this become?
He smiled and kissed her nose again, leaving her wishing he'd put
more faith in himself and aim lower.
As in her mouth.
"Read it," he said, his finger moving around the rim of the ring in
her hand.
She held it carefully, tilting it to see the inscription engraved
inside.
It made her heart hurt.
~~with love~~
Two simple words, etched in elegant cursive, speaking more than any
novel or story or planned out speech could ever say.
She couldn't speak, couldn't thank him the way she wanted to,
couldn't even breathe with the tightness in her chest.
"Put it on me, Mulder." she whispered.
His anxious expression fell away into tenderness as he carefully took
the ring and slid it over her finger, his own hands shaking.
She leaned forward and kissed his mouth with the same gentleness he
had shown as he laid his gift in her hand.
His arms slid around her waist and pulled her to his chest with an
underlying force that made her dizzy.
His mouth broke from hers. "I wanted to put your name on it, but I
couldn't take the risk that someone might find it. So I just said
what I needed to say ..."
Speaking it out loud seemed to make it real and he faltered, looking
away.
"I know, I know," she murmured, pulling him with her back onto the
bed.
"I want to make you my wife," he said and closed his mouth over hers.
The ring on her finger glittered and he could feel it pressed hard
into his back.
"Mulder ..."
She lifted his face to look at her, to make him meet her eyes.
"I want to be yours ..."
===========
Letters
===========
"Sit still, Libby."
The little girl wrinkled her nose as the brush passed through her
light blond hair, snagging on tangles as it went.
She squirmed again and made a face and Scully sighed, clamping her
legs around Libby to keep her from moving so much. Her hair only
tangled more when she didn't sit still.
"Libby? Scully?"
"In here, Mulder." Scully turned and saw him appear in the
doorway, then approach their bedroom with a gaunt look on his
tired face. She sighed and let Libby run to her father.
"Daddy!"
"Hey baby." Mulder took the brush from her and expertly combed out
her hair until there were no tangles and it shone in the bright
light. Libby did not squirm once.
He set her down on the bed and gave the brush back to Scully,
looking at her with subtle hints in his eyes. She nodded softly to
his unasked question and took out the barrettes for Libby's hair.
She sat patiently this time while her mother pulled her hair back
and clipped it securely with the animal barrettes. Then she was
done and she slid off the bed to go get on her pajamas, dropping
the towel in the floor with total abandon.
Mulder gave a little laugh and picked it up as she fled, hanging
it on the rack before coming back to sit down next to Scully on
the bed.
"Did she just get finished with her bath?"
Scully nodded, too exhausted to really answer and collapsed onto
the bed. Mulder's hands found the sore spots on her back and his
fingers dug in hard to relax them. She moaned and closed her eyes.
"How was work?" he asked and she knew then that he was upset over
something. He didn't ask how work was usually; he knew it was
painful to talk about and that she'd come to him.
"Scary." she murmured. "What's wrong?"
He snorted. "Sheesh, you've been around me way too long."
He was only evading the question.
She sighed and fell silent; it was enough that he knew she was
ready to listen to him. His hands continued to work their bliss
upon her body and soon, she was so relaxed she was numb.
He stopped and gave her a small kiss on her lower back, his lips
tantalizing the heated skin.
"I'm going to take a shower," he said and she felt the bed shift
as he got up.
"Mommy?"
"Yeah, baby?" she called back, moving her head so that she could
speak without getting a mouthful of the bedspread.
"Can you help me?"
"Sure baby." Scully dragged her weary body off the bed and waved
Mulder back to his shower. He'd been prepared to wait and go help
Libby instead.
But Libby had called for her.
She would come.
She got to Libby's room and stood in the doorway. "What's wrong,
Libby?"
Libby looked up at her with muddied green blue eyes and shook her
head with a small smile. "Nothing. I have those papers ..."
Scully mentally slapped herself. Of course, the extra work her
preschool teacher had sent home.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry baby, I forgot. Do you want to do them in Mommy's
room and wait for Daddy to finish his shower?"
Libby looked at the clean white worksheets, a daunted look coming
over her face. "Yes." she said softly.
Scully picked up the pile of clothes from the floor and threw it
in the dirty clothes basket, shaking her head because Libby was
turning out to be just as messy as Mulder.
"Come on then," she said and led her back to their room, the
little girl skipping ahead in her bright blue pajamas.
She settled Libby in the floor with the long wooden board from an
old drawer that they used for a makeshift desk and then tapped on
the door to the bathroom before going in.
"Scully? Is that you?"
"Any other woman come in here while you shower?" she said lightly,
smiling.
His head peeked out from behind the shower curtain and he smiled
at her softly, the drops sliding down his back like raindrops on
car windows.
"No takers yet," he replied and raised his eyebrow a bit.
She shut the door behind her and the steam stayed inside, giving
him back some of the warmth. His eyes took in her worried
expression and fatigued face and he leaned forward, placing a kiss
on her nose before slipping back into the recesses of the shower.
"Libby's preschool teacher sent her home with extra work.
Apparently she's behind the others ..."
Mulder frowned and his eyes glanced to the door that led to the
bedroom where Libby was.
"She needs us to help her, Mulder ..." Scully didn't know quite
how to ask him for anything, even now. She just had to hope he
wanted to do it, otherwise she couldn't force him to.
"I'll be out in a few minutes, Scully. Then we'll help her."
Scully sighed. "Yeah. Okay." She turned to go, but he caught the
edge of her shirt, no doubt soaking it, but she didn't care.
"Scully," he said softly.
She looked back at him.
"It'll be okay." His words barely made it to her ears before his
lips descended on hers and brought the breath from her into him.
He pulled back silently and was back in the darkness of the
shower.
She shivered as she left the warmth of the bathroom and remembered
his lips on hers even as the cold swept against them greedily.
===========
"Okay, Libby, what's this one?"
"A," she said dully.
"You know that, huh?"
Libby's eyes sparked and she grinned. "Of course, Daddy. It's the
alphabet. Mommy taught me the alphabet Before."
To Libby, time was always divided into Before and Now. Before was
all the old things she had seen and done and felt and heard and
said. Before was her other Mother, her father, or Sir, and the
endless doctors and treatments.
Now was her family -- her new family.
"Okay. What are you supposed to do here?"
Libby proudly spread out the worksheets, the pages already limp
and smudged from being handled so much. She pointed to the first
one. "Here, I have to trace the 'A' and the little baby 'a' until
I can do it without the dots. Ms. Penn said I could use any color
I wanted."
"Oh. Wow. What color are you going to use?" Mulder asked, rubbing
Scully's back as he spoke. Scully let him control the impromptu
interview, knowing he was best as fishing around. Mulder could
find out why Libby didn't work as well as the others, why she was
falling behind.
"Um ... red. 'A's are always red."
Mulder nodded as if that was a proven fact and he was incredibly
remiss in forgetting it.
Libby managed to trace the outlines of the 'A' very well, her hand
steady and smooth, the letter taking shape very nicely as Mulder
and Scully watched.
And then she stopped.
"Now I have to make them on my own, without the dots." Her face
wrinkled up, eyes squinting and nose cutely displayed.
"Wow. Without the dots." Mulder carefully displayed no emotion
over the idea of making the letters all on her own. Libby would
get her signal from him and if he said they were easy and she had
trouble with them, then she would be too frustrated. On the other
hand, if he said they were hard, she might not even attempt it.
"But I can do it," she said confidently.
Mulder said nothing.
Her hand began the first leg, shaky with nervousness he supposed,
and then it faltered as she went and made the second leg, her hand
careening from the lines of the tablet.
Her eyes grew hard and flinty and she dug the crayon into the
paper, looking as determined and stubborn as Scully with her face
cold like it was.
"Daddy," she said, the word coming in clipped tones.
Scully stared at her.
"Yes."
"I can't do it Daddy. I don't want to do this anymore," she said
and flung the crayon across the room.
It left a long angry red dash on the wall.
Mulder looked calmly back to Libby, but the anger was there and
his eyes turned pleadingly to Scully.
Scully took Libby's arm firmly and made her look straight into her
eyes.
"Libby. Do not throw things. You're having trouble making your
letters, but getting mad doesn't help. You will not throw anything
else, understand?"
Libby's wide eyes stared back at her mother and wordlessly she
nodded.
Mulder shot her a grateful glance, knowing he was too frustrated
to handle it properly. Maybe that's where Libby was getting it.
"Now, Libby, we're going to do the rest of this. When we're
finished, you will help me clean the wall to get the crayon off."
Libby nodded again, swallowing thickly and her eyes tearing up.
It ripped at Scully's heart. She slowly eased away and then
pointed at the red crayon lying on the floor. Libby scampered to
pick it up quickly.
"Okay, Libby, let's do this again," Mulder said, carefully toning
his voice so that she would not hear any sign of impatience.
Libby began tracing again and finally she made a rather shaky and
untrained letter 'A' within only ten minutes.
Scully watched as she struggled to simply make the letter straight
and wished she could do it for her, get everything out of the way
so she could enjoy the rest of the day.
Libby's tongue peeked out from her lips and she licked them while
she tried to concentrate, but her small fingers would not obey
properly and the more she tried the more frustrated she grew.
But she would not give up: there was too much stubborn Mulder and
Scully blood in her to give up.
And then Scully realized what was probably wrong.
===========
Mulder looked up from his careful watch, his eyes pleading with
hers to help his little girl. It hurt him that Libby could not do
it.
Scully stood and picked Libby up, taking her to the bathroom
counter and setting her there. The mirror greeted them and she
saw Mulder approach behind her.
"Okay, Libby. I'm going to hand you some objects, and all I want
you to do is take them from me, okay?"
Libby nodded, enjoying the short break even though her mother was
acting strangely.
Scully picked up the brush and handed to her, carefully
positioning it so that it came at her from the middle, not
slanted in any way.
The little girl took it and smiled.
Scully smiled back and handed her a comb.
Left hand again. Left hand.
Scully took the comb back and then grabbed her hands and placed
them in her lap, both resting on her legs and positioned equally.
Scully let go and then said, "Libby, raise your hand."
She raised her left hand with a little grin, thinking it very
funny all these things her mother was doing.
Scully smiled. "Okay. That's great Libby."
Scully took her down from the counter and looked at Mulder. "Did
you notice that?"
Mulder looked to Libby, then back to her. "No."
"Libby is left handed." She placed the girl on the floor again and
settled down next to her. "Libby, try doing the letters with your
left hand."
Libby picked up the red crayon with her other hand and grasped it
tightly, watching it almost.
Then she began tracing the 'A' again, her lines smooth and clean
and easy. She laughed with delight and made the letter on her own.
"I did it!" she yelled and jumped up.
Scully smiled widely and hugged her as her beautiful grin became
infectious. Libby ran to Mulder and received another huge hug and
kiss.
"Way to go, Libby," he said and held her tightly. "Let's finish
the others now, all right?"
Libby sat back down again and soon she was completing 'G' and
smiling brighter than he thought possible.
Mulder leaned against the bed and pulled Scully to him, thumbs
digging into her sore and tense muscles. He let his hands drift
and she melted against him, draped over his raised knee like a
doll. She moaned once and Libby looked up with a wary expression.
"Did you get hurt, Mommy?"
Scully laughed and felt her ribs get bruised because of Mulder's
knee but his fingers felt too good to make her move. "No, honey.
My back is just sore and Daddy's making it better."
Libby nodded and returned to her letters, her tongue hanging out
as she concentrated on making her 'K' very neat.
Scully turned her head to see Mulder grinning inanely at her and
she rolled her eyes.
He leaned in closer and whispered, "You want me to make it a
little better?"
She shivered and raised up, eyes locked with his. "Right now?"
"If you want?"
Scully turned to see Libby working diligently. "Libby, do you want
to finish that in your room?"
Libby looked up, saw the funny look in her mother's eyes and
frowned.
"Are you sleepy Mommy?"
Scully blushed. "Not right now, Libby."
Libby looked again at her mother. She certainly looked sleepy, her
eyes heavy and face flushed.
"After I finish can I watch my video?"
"Sure, baby."
Libby had a VCR in her room because her room was the only one with
a television plug and cable extension. Libby jumped up with her
things and ran for her room, slamming their door behind her.
Scully turned back to Mulder, watching the laughter in him
explode.
"So smooth, Scully," he said, grinning.
She shifted in his embrace and turned back to him. "Are you going
to finish rubbing my back?"
His hands dug immediately into her back and she moaned again, more
to irritate him than anything else. He leaned against her back to
push harder and she arched a bit under the pressure.
"Okay, okay. Too hard," she said, twisting.
He eased her back and into his chest, wrapping his arms around
her. His nose buried into her hair and she knew that he did not
want to make love; he wanted to talk.
She pressed her cheek against him, waiting, listening to his heart
as he thought carefully.
"Scully ... I think someone found us."
She stiffened like lead had been jammed into her spine, the easy
relaxed nature of her world suddenly spiralling into hell.
"Why? What happened?"
"I found a listening device in my office," he whispered, his mouth
next to her ear so that nothing they said could be picked up.
She remained silent.
"It wasn't there yesterday," he added.
She shuddered, her mind replaying all the horrors she thought she
had left behind as soon as they had gotten settled in New York
City.
She turned her head and put her lips to his ear.
"You're still as paranoid as ever, Mulder. I'm glad though -- I
would never have thought they'd come after us. I wish they would
just leave us alone."
He nodded. "I know. I can't help being paranoid, you know that.
Too many things have happened to us. I don't want to lose this
because I was careless."
She shivered again and let him keep her close to him, needing his
warmth and comfort just as much as he needed to make sure this was
still real.
"I'm going to search the apartment tonight for more bugs. I'll
help you debug your work too, as best as we can."
Scully nodded again and closed her eyes.
He hugged her and kissed her, letting her know without words that
everything would be all right, letting her know because she needed
something to keep her sane.
"Okay," she said softly. "So they know. They know. We can go away
again, go to Chicago or Atlanta, or something."
He nodded, realizing that she needed this kind of planning to be
secure.
"Or we could move to another part of the city. Keep Libby in
school and they won't get very suspicious, too. Won't try to hunt
us down or anything."
Mulder nodded again.
She turned to him then, crying silently, pressing her face
shamefully into him.
He let her cry and said nothing.
Because they would truly be all right.
Libby called out then.
"I finished my letters!"
Scully let out a little laugh and looked at him.
"She's done."
"We're going to be okay." he said again.
She nodded.
They were.
===========
The Emilys
Bittersweet
===========
"Cause it's a bittersweet symphony; that's life. Trying to make
ends meet, you're a slave to money then you die." -- "Bittersweet
Symphony," The Verve
===========
The alarm sounded loudly next to her and she slammed it off before
even coming fully awake. She stayed very still, listening for the
sounds that would tell her that it had woken Mulder too.
It hadn't.
She slipped from the bed and into the bathroom, shedding her
clothes as she went, shivering and rubbing her chilled hands
together.
She fixed the thermastat before stepping into the bathroom and
turned on the water, brushing her teeth as the shower warmed up.
She relaxed somewhat under the needles of morning showers and let
her mind slip from automatic and into life again. The birds that
had settled outside their apartment, making their ledges a
convenient home, started in with their warbling, off-key song and
she sighed.
The early shock of warm water and soap made her wake and she
realized she had to stop staying up late on Saturday nights, or
else keep Mulder from her at night.
She wondered if he was doing it on purpose somehow; trying to make
her give up on going to church on Sunday mornings.
She dismissed that and shut off the water, shivering in the sudden
cold.
She silently pulled on her hose and slip, toweling her hair dry
and applying some make-up to her pale face. She turned at one
point, her ears picking up a noise and pinpointing it to be coming
from him.
He was sound asleep still, and she walked over to the bed and
placed a light kiss on his forehead.
She left and creeped down the hall to Libby's room, easing the
door open and peering in. Like always, Libby was up and playing
with her baby dolls and Legos. She smiled at her mother and stood
to receive her clothes.
Dana pulled out a dark green dress and gave it to her. Libby
smiled again and said nothing; she knew she had to be quiet for
Daddy.
The dress slipped over her head and the socks were put on, then
the patent leather shoes and green barrettes and she went bounding
out of her room to get breakfast.
Scully went back into her room and finished getting dressed.
===========
Mulder watched her from half closed lids, delighting in the
voyeuristic nature of his clandestine watch and sighing a bit that
she was so determined to go every Sunday morning.
He wasn't going to stop her though. Church taught his little girl
morals and principles, and if it made Scully the woman she was,
then he had no qualms about letting it shape his daughter.
But he missed her in the mornings.
So he watched, pretending to be asleep so that he could observe
her naturally.
She smiled a lot when she thought she was alone. She turned back
and forth in the mirror and made sure her appearance was flawless
and she fussed endlessly with her hair.
He thought it was cute, but she no doubt thought it vain since she
never did it in front of him.
He listened as she attempted to keep down the noise as Libby ate
breakfast and asked her answer-less questions. He strained to hear
the door click shut every Sunday and then he stole from the bed
and watched them leave from the bedroom window.
===========
Dana smiled to the people who passed them and settled Libby down
in the pew with blank paper and a pencil. The other children were
given their bags of toys and loud obnoxious things, but her child
was creative enough and good enough to make do with paper and a
pencil: she did not think church should be play time.
She tried to avoid the weekly stares and the eyes that asked
questions. The church wasn't Catholic, but the congregation acted
just like they were. It was tense sometimes, and Scully kept
reminding herself that she did not have to explain to anyone.
So what if they thought she was a single mother, what did it
matter?
Libby started drawing and Dana eased into the seat, relaxing again
just as she had in the shower. She needed this, despite the stares
and whispers, she needed it.
It gave her peace and comfort and a sense of justice. She had to
cling to that, otherwise she had nothing.
Nothing but a pieced together family and a faith in goodness that
hung by threads.
===========
Mulder found the church easily enough, and the auditorium, too,
based solely on the conversations he'd had with her.
The people looked at him strangely as he walked through the halls,
mainly because he had dashed from the apartment in jeans and a
cotton shirt. Not too churchy.
But he made it to the services and peered around anxiously for her
from the back, eyes scanning every row for red hair and a little
girl.
A man appeared at his elbow and motioned him away from the
service.
He glared at the man and pulled away. "I need to find my wife ..."
he growled in a low voice.
The man smiled. "Tell me her name, sir. I'll help you."
Mulder was at a loss. He didn't know what Scully had told the
church her name was. They had taken to using their names for very
low key things.
"Uh, she's short, red hair. My little girl too, Libby?"
The man smiled suddenly. "Ah, Libby and Dana. They are yours?" he
said, his face smiling and his eyes smiling.
Mulder relaxed. "Yeah. They're mine. Where are they?"
The man pointed to the far right row, about fifteen from the
front.
Pretty far up.
He strode down the aisle as if he belonged there and slipped up to
her row.
Scully looked up as she felt the towering presence beside her and
saw him.
"Mulder," she breathed, stunned.
He slid into the seat next to her and kissed her cheek.
"Daddy!" Libby whispered in a strained, excited voice.
Mulder gathered her up and suddenly, Dana felt the eyes of
everyone on her, but in benevolence instead of malice.
What a huge difference his sudden arrival made.
She hated it.
Why did she need Mulder to make everything all right?
===========
"Scully," he breathed, lips darting in close to her ear. "Scully,
a man followed you this morning."
She stiffened and shut her eyes briefly.
She didn't want to know this, not now. She could do nothing about
it now.
"Scully. Did you hear me?"
"Shut up, Mulder. I don't want to talk about it in church." She
shut her mind to his words and concentrated on the tranquility the
old church and the minister gave off. She wanted one thing, only
one thing, and that was normality.
<Please, God, just let me be normal for once.>
Beside her Mulder was staring at her as if he'd gotten slapped and
his eyes closed into the wary mode.
Libby crawled back over to her spot and laid her head in Scully's
lap, eyes closing just as they did every Sunday at ten o'clock.
Scully's hand went immediately to Libby's forehead and she gently
stroked her hair and her skin and her cheek, doodling aimless
patterns with her finger. Libby was warm and sleepy and she gave
Dana an odd feeling off completeness.
As if Libby was returning back to her.
Mulder leaned against the arm of the pew, knee touching her thigh
and sprawled as if he had the highest disdain for anything having
to do with church.
She wanted to slap him.
Her left arm was draped along the back of the pew, fingers
reaching down to touch Libby's side, right arm caressing her, the
picture of contentment.
But she was churning inside.
Dana was tired of having a frail little family that came and went
based on Mulder's moods. She was aching for some kind of realness
to the whole thing and she felt like she was being used as a rag
for his emotional spills. Whenever he hurt, she was there to
screw, to take, to abuse ... but when she hurt, he was there to
hurt even more.
She wanted something to change, something to become clear as to
what was wrong in their life.
Someone to really be her partner in life.
Mulder wasn't even trying anymore. He followed her around, hunted
after her, called her all the time, just to make sure she was
being careful.
But when she got home ... he ignored her, he talked to Libby and
said nothing to her; he acted as if she were invisible.
She couldn't stand it. She needed him ... and he didn't seem to
need or even want her.
===========
Church was over, people filed out, but she and Mulder stayed there
in the pew, watching.
Libby was still asleep in her lap and keeping her warm with her
tiny body's heat.
"Okay, we can probably go now," Mulder said.
"No. I'm going to stay here for awhile, Mulder."
Mulder looked at her as if she had another nosebleed.
"Why?"
"It comforts me."
He wanted to ask her what that had to do with anything, but he
shut up and sat back down. He knew she had become unhappy lately,
so he'd given her space, unaccustomed to dealing with the Scully
mood every day.
He watched her run her fingers through Libby's hair, and ached for
the things he and Scully had missed. Libby's first steps, first
words, first anything.
"Mulder, this isn't working."
"What?" Where was she coming from with this?
"Us. It's not," she said softly, not looking at him.
"How's that?"
"It's not real. It's still just you and me and a little girl who
needs us to stay together. It's not 'us.' It's not anything."
"You don't think it's real?"
"Stop playing psychologist, Mulder. That's exactly what I mean.
This isn't real. It's us running away, running for our lives,
dragging along all the pain and nightmare of our other life when
that's what we're trying to run from in the first place."
He stayed silent, watching her, tearing up in his spirit because
of her words. He had thought they were doing great.
"We're not real."
"How can I make it real? How can I change this?"
She shrugged and looked over at him for a moment, then down to
Libby. "Mulder, right here, in church, I feel normal. I feel
real."
He smiled. "You look beautiful."
She gave him a smile. "I guess I'm just lonely."
It dug into him. He couldn't make her whole, he couldn't give her
meaning, or enough love to get her through.
"I'm sorry, Scully. I don't know what to do."
She looked to him and she was agonized.
"I don't either. I was hoping you would know."
===========
The Emilys
Symphony
===========
"I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me."
--"Bittersweet Symphony" The Verve
===========
He didn't want to move.
Her arm was sprawled across his chest, face pressed into the
pillow and agonizingly close to him. Rarely did she act so
abandoned, so innocently untempered by thought and propriety. He
feared he wouldn't see her like this in a long time.
But he had to get up if everything was to go the way he needed it
to.
He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers before depositing
the carelessly flung arm back on her side. Then he slid out of
bed, rippling the sheets as he passed.
He rubbed his face under the sink and dried off with a towel
before even allowing a glance in the mirror. Then he grimaced at
the sight and went to pull on some jeans. He hadn't slept all
night; all he could think about was her agony: the look of utter
desolation that had crept into her eyes that Sunday morning.
He woke Libby and she was characteristically quiet, never
questioning why her father was taking her to school this morning.
He helped Libby pick out clothes and then hummed a bit of an old
song under his breath as he fixed her breakfast.
She heard him and wrapped her arms around his legs, her face
lifting to look into his eyes.
"Whatcha singin' Daddy?" she said, her embrace tight and smile
wide.
He grinned. "An old song, baby."
"Teach it to me," she said and took the sack lunch he offered her.
She placed it with great care into her backpack and Mulder knew
that Scully had been exactly the same as a child, meticulously
placing things in their proper place. It made him smile.
"Okay, in the truck, I'll teach it to you."
Libby joyfully ran through the house until she made it to the
front door, where she called back to him to hurry up.
When he got to her he frowned. "You have to be quiet for Mommy,
sweetheart."
Libby nodded and her face got very dramatic. With a staged whisper
she raised her eyebrows and said, "Okay, Daddy. I'll be very
quiet."
He raised his eyebrow and took her chin in his hand. "Mommy
teaching you sarcasm, baby?"
Her face widened into a grin and she shook her head. "Ha, ha. No, I
learned it all from you."
"Mommy told you to say that too, didn't she?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," she said and then scampered down the
hall out of his reach.
He grinned and they raced down to the street, Libby shrieking so
loudly, Mulder was sure Scully had woken up by now.
In the truck, stuck in traffic, Mulder sang her the song he'd been
humming. He started out softly, then picked it up a bit when she
had caught on to the chorus. Mulder grinned as they drove down
84th singing to the top of their lungs "Another Brick In the Wall"
by Pink Floyd. Wouldn't Scully love him for this, when her
daughter came home from school belting out -- "Teacher, leave
those kids alone."
He sort of laughed and kissed Libby good-bye and drove demonically
back to their apartment.
It was silent when he turned his key into the door and opened it.
He heard the faint sounds of Friday morning traffic on the street
below them and the hum of the air conditioner, on due to a recent
wave of El Nino heat.
He stepped out of his sneakers and into their bedroom, eyes
adjusting to the dim light, making out her still form under the
sheets.
She was curled up on her side, as usual, her face turned to the
wall, arms held tightly into her body, legs curled slightly. He
lamented the loss of the vulnerable, more free postion she'd been
in earlier.
He climbed back into bed and wondered if she would uncurl her tiny
body again. He crossed the invisible line separating their sides
and reached out to touch her.
Just as his fingers connected with her hair, she sighed heavily
and turned, landing in his embrace. He smiled into her hair and
drew her closer to him, surprised when she snuggled into his
chest. Scully was not a snuggler.
Her breath made his skin itch and soon he was twisting his neck
oddly to keep her lips away from his throat. Finally he got in a
comfortable postition, his face nestled under her chin, arm slung
loosely around her waist.
And there he fell asleep.
===========
Dana woke to warmth and completeness filling her space. She kept
her eyes closed until she jerked with a start.
Mulder woke as she slipped hastily out of bed.
"Scully, come back to bed."
"It's Friday, Mulder. I over --"
"No. No, I took Libby."
"But I have to get to work --"
"No you don't."
She paused and turned back to him, in a state of undress, legs
clean and a pinkish peach all the way to her black underwear.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, trust me. You're not working today."
"Did they call?"
"No. I called."
She looked horrified and shook her head. "Mulder, I can't call in
sick. They really can't afford it. Neither can we. We need this
money."
He smiled lazily and she grew frustrated with his lack of
understanding.
"Mulder --"
"Scully. I'll explain everything, just get back in bed. You're
making me cold."
She shivered, realizing how exposed she was and turned her face,
then glanced hesitantly at the clock before crawling back in bed.
He gathered her into his arms and closed his eyes, looking for the
world like he was going to fall asleep again.
"I arranged for you and me to have today off."
She stiffened. "When?"
"Last Sunday."
She sighed a little, realizing that this was a reaction to her
words on Sunday in church.
"Why?" she asked, thinking she might as well get out all the 'W'
questions early on.
"Because we need a break. We need to talk. But most of all, we
need to figure out what we lost and get it back somehow."
She smiled sadly at his sentiment and closed her eyes.
"But we get to sleep, right now." he said softly.
He felt her skin quiver with silent laughter.
"Okay, then, Mulder. We sleep. Then we talk."
He nodded against her shoulder, causing her skin to catch fire.
"Then we talk."
===========
She watched him as he made the coffee, legs planted firmly on the
linoleum as if he was facing down something from the X-Files. His
back stretched before her in great plains and sweeps of muscle and
tissue, tight under his grey T-shirt. His hair was dark with
natural human oils and his jaw rough with shadows.
She was curled up on the kitchen chair, legs pulled under her long
white T-shirt to keep out the cold.
He turned and produced a steady hand holding tightly to a mug of
steaming brown alertness called coffee.
She took it from him and sipped it immediately, burning her tongue
and half her tastebuds and making a pained face while he laughed.
"Watch out, Scully. It's hot," he said with exaggerated slowness.
She made a face at him and he laughed. "Libby did that to me this
morning, along with a few words that I'm sure she got from you."
"I haven't cursed in front of her!" she protested.
He laughed again. "No, no cursing. Only heavy, Scully-brand
sarcasm."
She smiled demurely and sipped her slightly less hot coffee.
He narrowed his eyes and crept close to her, standing tall over
her.
She did not shrink back in her chair, merely stared up at him with
bright blue eyes that dared him to challenge her.
So he did.
"Mulder!" she yelped, as his hands came sneaking down to touch
her.
She spilled the coffee on his bare feet and he howled and jumped
back while she attempted to make soothing noises to cover up her
laughing.
He gave her a pout. "It's not funny, Scully."
She stifled the laughter and tried to look sorry for it, but her
eyes were laughing.
"Sorry, Mulder, but it's pretty funny. You have the best timing,
you know?"
He grew very grave and took the mug from her hands and then leaned
in very close.
His breath grazed her ear and she tensed to keep from shivering.
"I don't need timing."
She exploded, laughing so hard that her eyes teared up and she had
to clutch her stomach and hold onto him to ride out the waves of
laughter.
She'd been expecting something very sexy and formidable and then
that.
He smiled with her, glad she was so joyful today, so full of
carefree spirit. He didn't usually see that with her.
When she had calmed down, sighing and holding her aching stomach
muscles, he placed a kiss on her lips, lightly and softly, as if
reminding her that he had been the one to make her laugh, to give
her relief.
She sobered and drew her arms around him, face pressed into his
shoulder.
"Fine now, Scully?"
She smiled and shook her head. "No, but getting better."
"Mmm ... honesty. Refreshing."
She pulled out of his arms and drained the rest of her coffee.
"So, what are we doing today?"
He grinned and his eyebrows twitched.
"Wouldn't you like to know ..."
===========
She walked arm in arm with him, shinging and smiling as she
noticed the looks of envy from others around them. He was focused
totally on her and she could feel his eyes at every step.
"Scully, look!"
She paused, allowing him to pull her to the side so that the mall
traffic could flow right around them.
It was a plain light blue dress. Sort of a spring fashion.
She looked at him. "Ok?"
He pointed to it. "You'd look good in that."
She glanced at it. "Mulder, we really don't have the money for
that."
He shook his head. "At least go try it on and let me see what it
is I'm missing."
She took his hand and led him inside. She had said that about the
last hundred things he had showed her, and he said the same in
return.
He didn't care. She was having a good time, trying things on and
letting him watch her turn and show them off. She felt like a
woman again, and that's all that mattered.
===========
"Ice cream?"
"No, I'm starving. I want some lunch," she replied.
He laced his fingers through hers and threaded his way to the food
counter, Scully following along behind him.
They ordered burgers and fries even though she grimaced as they
were taken out of deep fry and dumped into the waiting paper
containers.
He smiled at her willingness to eat whatever they found. There
weren't many other choices out there.
She watched the park from the comfort of a bench, the trees
masking the angry noise of New York into a faint rushing that
sounded like water more than cars and taxis.
He finished faster than her and leaned forward on his knees to
watch some kids playing on the swings across from them. He
remembered taking Libby out there to play, pushing her until she
was so high, she got light headed and yelled down to him that she
could touch the clouds.
She smiled at the softness on his face and snaked her arm around
his.
He turned and kissed her nose and she withdrew her arm to finish
her burger.
He noticed she hadn't touched the fries. He stole one away and
smiled at her wrinkled nose, noticing how much Libby took after
her.
After a few minutes of silence she leaned back, content to let
this pass between them.
She shut her eyes and soaked in the sun, almsot wishing she could
be a plant, create energy from the light and live naturally and
unhindered.
"Hey," he said softly, touching her cheek.
She turned and, for a moment, did not open her eyes. She looked
like a peaceful saint that way.
Then she nailed him with a dazzling smile and wide eyes.
He felt his entire soul throb and explode with this.
"Dana," he said softly, fingers rubbing the side of her face.
"Thank you, Mulder. I don't know what one thing did it, but I'm
okay now."
He grinned like a child and leaned over to kiss her.
She was still smiling. He never saw her smile.
"What was wrong before?"
She sighed. "I think I was getting homesick ... or soul sick,
really."
He took her hand and frowned.
"Everything was a patchwork of lies and half truths and fear and
hurt and I couldn't stand it anymore. I thought that at least."
"Was it not?"
"No, it wasn't. It isn't. I was seeing only the past and I
couldn't get away from it. And then, when you told me that someone
had followed me, it was as if it had all found me again, the past
had run right up and slammed me back into reality."
She studied her fingers, shame spreading along her eyes.
"I thought this was a sham to you, Mulder. I thought that it was
only a contrived way to deal with unpleasant things. I let myself
believe that so that I couldn't get hurt if you left ... if I
left."
"I'd never leave!"
"I know. I know. I told myself you would and convinced myself that
because of that, I didn't need you. But I do. I do need you, and I
was afraid that I'd start hurting again."
He said nothing and she gave out a little shudder of a sigh, her
hand tightening around his.
He let his hand hang limply for a moment and then squeezed back.
She sighed in relief and slumped back in the bench.
"I can accept that Scully," he said. "I don't understand, and
that's what kind of hurts, but I do accept it. And it's all right.
But just know that I love you and nothing else matters."
She sighed. "Mulder, I know you do. But as what? Good friends,
partners, more? That's what I was afraid of, that it wouldn't be
how I loved you."
"Does that matter?" he said gently, shaking his head.
She seemed confused again, suddenly plunged back into doubt at his
words.
"Does it matter how I love you? What if it's only as good friends,
Scully? What would you do then?"
Her eyes were pained and he wondered if this was worth it.
"What do you mean?"
"Would it be a sham to you if I only loved you like that?"
Her heart wouldn't catch up to her breathing, her brain wouldn't
catch up to her heart.
"A sham?" she echoed dumbly. "If you didn't?"
"If I didn't, but this was real to me, would it be a sham?"
"I don't know what you mean ..." she said desperately.
He removed his hand from hers. "Scully, I don't love you like ...
like that. I do love you. Just ..."
She was standing, rising, pulling her body away and breathing fast
so that the tears wouldn't fall.
<I though I knew ... I thought I knew ...>
"Scully, come back here, right now."
Anger rose and she turned in hatred, her eyes clouded with pain
and loathing.
But something about his face stilled her retort.
He was crying.
"God, no. Scully I didn't want to hurt you ... But it would be a
'sham,' a lie, if I let it go on like this."
Her ribs were collapsing into her body, her heart crushed by blood
and air.
"Scully, I do love you. I love you probably more than anyone ever
could. But it is not romantic, really. How could it be? We could
never let it be -- Scully, stop closing down on me. Listen."
His plea made her slump to the grass and she sat there shivering.
"It's good love, though," he said, trying to lighten it. "I do
love you. I do. Don't ever doubt that, Scully. Don't ever."
"Not romantic, but good. What the hell am I supposed to believe
now?" she snapped, her eyes once again flaring with anger.
He knew he shouldn't have.
"Scully, you know I'm married to my work, to the X-Files, and that
has not changed. Just because we don't have them -- well, I don't
stop. I know you know that's what this job is, in basest form.
Helping others, finding killers, making people understand, believe.
I do love you, just not so ... so ... passionately. Crap, Scully,
stop looking at me like that."
She was silent, her hurt more than words.
"I wish with all my heart I could love you like that. What we have
is steady and solid and it makes me happy and gives me more joy
and life than anything I've ever known. It's better and stronger
than anything I've ever had with anyone. It's the closest I've
ever gotten to the kind of love you're talking about."
She had turned her face, drawing in breaths that were fast and
labored and making her dizzy.
He came and sat down in front of her, reaching his hands out to
hold her. She fell into him despite the fear and the anger welling
up in her.
"Dana, this is the kind that most married people never attain,
that most lovers cannot even dream of. I'd give you my life in an
instant. I'd let you take all of me and I'd give it all to you for
nothing. You have me, Scully, body, soul, strength ... belief."
"But?" she said softly, her face ashen.
"But it's not the kind where I wake in the middle of the night
craving your touch."
Her eyes were storming endless lightning strikes that shimmered
gold-green like tornado skies.
"I wake ... " She trailed off then resumed some kind of blind
courage. "I wake aching ... " she whispered.
Tears slipped from his eyes and he let her have her silence, her
dignity.
Her head came up and she touched his cheek. "Don't cry, Mulder,"
she said, not sure if she was even allowed to touch him anymore.
He leaned into her hand and kissed it.
"Why do you do this?" she said, agonized.
"Because you need it."
She snatched her hand away, eyes blazing. She didn't need charity.
"Scully. Stop being stupid."
Her mouth dropped open. He had never spoken like that to her.
"Scully, I would give you anything because I love you. And if you
want it like this, if that gives you peace, then I freely give it.
I give it ... I need to."
"You don't need this." she said, her voice mechanical and tinted
with bitterness.
"I need to know you won't let go of me. I need you to remind me
that I can be good for something ... for someone. Otherwise, I'm
lost."
He was afraid of everything he had said. Afraid she would never
understand that she meant more to him than sex and passion, that
they were above that kind of love.
"Mulder," she said softly, her own heart tripping her up. "Mulder,
you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
He let her hands trail across his face, down his chest, through
his hair. He drew her to him, hoping she understood, hoping he
hadn't killed what they did have because of his obssessive need
for the truth in all things.
She stirred agianst him and he kissed her, tongue clashing against
her lips.
She pulled away, confused.
"I never said you didn't turn me on," he whispered and pulled her
back.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For turning me on?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Not for that. I hope it's making you very
uncomfortable ... I'm sorry that I let this all get in the way.
You're right, it doesn't matter."
He smiled slowly and nipped at her mouth. "You're right, too. It's
making me very uncomfortable. How about we go home?"
She laughed and stood, pulling him up and into her arms.
"Lead the way, G-man."
"Ah, you forget. No longer G-man."
"Oh, Mulder. You'll always be a G-man to me."
They ambled across the park, smiling.
She bent in close to him, standing on tiptoe to reach his hearing.
"So, I turn you on?"
===========
The Emilys
Truthfully
===========
===========
"This isn't what I like to call flattery, but I know that I
believe that I've found what's true, that I've found what's
you." -- Lisa Loeb, "Truthfully"
===========
She was lying in bed, eyes closed against the beginning of another
day. Her limbs were heavy and dull and still asleep, and her skin
was sensitive from being hot and sweaty.
They needed a new air conditioner.
She did not open her eyes when the alarm went off but slapped it
silent and waited for her body to wake up.
Mulder was beside her, face pressed into her side, lips touching
as if he'd been about to kiss her when he fell asleep. Her shirt
was somewhere on the floor, pulled off hastily last night and then
forgotten.
She felt her face flush.
Actually, she had forgotten. She had fallen asleep on him, right
as he was trying to seduce her. It was just that she'd been aching
all day and had to run around the entire unit trying to compensate
for the doctor that had been out that day. She'd been exhausted
when she got home ...
Hopefully Mulder wasn't too mad with her. Hopefully, he wouldn't
tease her about it either.
She sighed and stayed perfectly still, not able to summon the
energy to get up, take a shower, meet the next day.
Mulder woke and stirred beside her, lips brushing her skin in
greeting. She moved her sluggish arm down to touch his back and he
drew closer, pulling her into him.
She let her head fall to his chest and her eyes close again.
"Scully ..." he murmured softly.
She made no noise, only wished he had suprised her again, called
in and got today off for her like last week.
"Are you okay, Scully? You're kind of hot."
She nodded against him and sighed a bit more. "You didn't happen
to get me today off, did you?"
He smiled and moved away from her arms, making her shiver with the
sudden chill of morning air that replaced the places where his
arms and body had been.
"Come on, get up."
"Can't."
"Are you okay, really? I mean, you're never like this. You're
usually up and going before I can even remember that the alarm
went off."
"Mmm ... maybe not."
"Maybe not what?"
"I don't feel too good."
Her eyes opened and he jerked, startled by the fevered glaze cast
over the shocking blue.
"Come here." he commanded and placed a hand to her forehead as she
made a decent effort to scoot in closer to him.
"Do we have a thermometer?" he said, her voice tense and worried.
Her eyes flew open again. "What? Why? I was kidding, Mulder. I'm
not sick. I can't be sick. Two of our doctors are out already with
the flu. I can't get sick!"
She shot up to get out of bed and in the next instant, he was
catching her as she fell back, suddenly too dizzy to see straight.
"Oh no," she sighed. "I can't get sick ..."
"Well, I'm pretty sure you are. Stay here, I'll bring you some
Tylenol and water."
"Mulder --"
"No. Stay here."
He stayed beside her until she slumped back in bed, certain that
she would not try to get up and prove to him that she was okay.
Because she clearly wasn't.
He rummaged around in the cabinet until he found the bottle and
took two out, then ran some water. On the way back he made sure
Libby was up and set out clothes for her to wear to school. She
gave him a morning smile that looked so much like her mother's and
a big kiss.
He returned bearing gifts and she graciously accepted, eyes
closing as he took back the empty glass. She stayed that way for a
long time and he put his hand to her forehead and checked again.
"It doesn't work that fast," she murmured.
"I know. Just checking."
"I'll be fine. Can you get Libby to school this morning?"
"No problem."
"And make sure she has her lunch, and her --"
"I got it covered, babe," he said, laughing a bit.
She sighed and opened her eyes, looking straight at him.
"Sorry, Mulder. I'm not a very good patient."
He sat down on the bed and drew her close to him, running his hand
along her forehead. "That's okay, Scully. I won't hold it against
you. I don't think I'm a very good patient either, if I remember
correctly."
She smiled and could remember: The Arctic, the PaperClip project,
many others. "You're not so bad unconscious."
He gave her a wry grin and let his thumb trace her chin. "I don't
have to go in to work until ten today, so I can stay with you for
awhile."
"Okay." she said softly and closed her eyes, letting his hands run
down her, forgetting for awhile all the things he had told her
last Friday. Forgetting that he did not love her like that, to
where this meant something instead of it being just a nice thing
he was doing for her.
She could feel herself falling asleep, relaxing into his arms and
drifting away.
He moved softly out of the room when he was sure she was asleep
and went about getting Libby ready for school.
===========
She woke to cold emptiness and the bitterness of lost things.
She found him gone, the truck gone, his warmth gone.
She stayed in the bed and realized that she had been stupid to
lead herself down that path again, the one where she comforted the
hurt by telling herself that she could make him love her the way
she loved him ...
She fought to keep away tears, knowing that he had only gone to
drop off Libby, and felt ridiculous for letting herself get hurt
again.
After sorting through all of Friday, she had decided that it
didn't matter how he felt, because she knew he would not leave,
and that was her main fear.
But that one conversation on a bench in Central Park had changed
everything. How could she know for sure that when he touched her
it was for real? That when his lips found hers, it was not just
some alternative to his videos, or his fantasies?
How could she know that he didn't secretly detest touching her,
for all the phoniness it implied in the act?
She had resolved herself to dealing with a man that was half alive
with her, half himself, and it had worked for a few unhappy
minutes.
She wanted all of him, just as he had all of her. Would he ever be
able to give up the X-Files, give up their old life and let them
live this new one?
She had then decided that she could change him, that she could
make him love her in that way, that he would eventually come to
understand that he didn't need strange phenomenon to make his life
worth something. She had thought last night that maybe he was, and
then this morning, being so considerate, so loving and caring and
touching her ...
Stupid. It had been stupid to think, stupid to let herself get
hurt again. Never again. Never again.
She bit the inside of her lip and kept focus on the pain there,
instead of the pain in her heart.
===========
Mulder drove back slowly, wondering what his actions, his words,
had all been about that morning. What exactly had he been doing?
He was unsure of what he was allowed to do with her anymore -- he
had effectively trapped himself into that one. Telling her he
didn't want her like that, then telling her he would take her at
any time ... what the hell was he thinking? That everything could
be okay after that?
It had been the truth. It had.
But now it was changing; knowing that she really did love him kind
of warped his view. He had blocked himself off to her now. She'd
never believe him if he suddenly said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have
been mistaken. I do love you like that."
Had he been too hasty? What if he had waited, heard what she had
to say first, heard that she loved him truly, would it've changed
anything?
Things had changed now.
He wasn't sure he liked it. He didn't know how to act around her,
didn't know what was all right for him to do, except she kept
letting him, she kept opening her arms and letting him in, every
time. Every time.
She hadn't held it against him, she hadn't gotten revenge, or
angry or afraid of him or anything. She had accepted it and gone
on.
The only evidence he had that she remembered it was the tears he
had seen once, staining her face when he had woken early for some
reason.
He had woken because she'd been crying.
That had killed him. He hadn't meant for his words to hurt her. He
had only felt she ought to know the truth.
What could he do now, now that the truth was changing?
He found home to be silent and welcoming, open and secure.
He walked into their bedroom and sat carefully on the bed,
watching her.
She breathed erratically, shallowly, as if her lungs were having a
hard time. Her face was still flushed, her hands curled around the
empty space where his own body would go.
He felt just as empty. He was aching to hold her and touch her ...
Hadn't he told her that never happened to him?
Maybe things were changing ... maybe he was finding his truth
right here, in her arms, in her life, in her love.
Maybe he did love her like that.
He crawled into bed, shoving his shoes off and creeping in close
to her. She was hot and her breaths were mini explosions into the
air, but she felt soft and alive and good.
He managed to wrap his arms around her and cradle her head to his
chest, holding her tightly, securely, letting her know that he was
there, he was finally there.
Her eyes opened and found him near her, arms around her, holding
her.
She lifted her chin and looked at him.
He was leaning down, kissing her, telling her that he was sorry,
that he hadn't wanted to her hurt, telling her to forget
everything he had said last Friday on a bench in Central Park.
He didn't say a word.
She closed her eyes again and let her body take back control. She
was too tired to try and sort things out at the moment.
"Sleep, Scully. Go to sleep," he murmured.
He was finally there. No longer half alive, but finally there.
===========
"Truthfully, I'm not desperate, I haven't changed my mind since we
first met. But the last thing I want to do is to tell you that I'm
right for you." -- Lisa Loeb "Truthfully"
===========
===========
The Emilys
Exodus
Chapter One
===========
"Okay, sweetheart, this will sting just a little."
Libby's face screwed up and her eyes squinted shut as the hydrogen
peroxide was poured over her knee. She gasped a bit and her eyes
flew open, looking at Mulder as if she'd been betrayed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It'll stop hurting, I promise." Mulder
said, stroking her hair briefly, wishing Scully was there to do
that kind of thing.
He dabbed at the long gash with a washcloth and dried it as best
he could with a Kleenex. The Batman Band-Aid went on and a smile
came from Libby's tightly pressed together lips.
"You're okay, sweetheart. You're okay."
Mulder kissed her forehead and picked her up off the bathroom
counter, setting her on the floor once more.
Libby ran for the apartment door and was met by her friend from
down the hall, and they took off to play outside again.
Mulder watched them from the window, not only to make sure they
played safely, but to make sure no one was out there, ready to
take his daughter.
"Mulder?"
The voice came softly and he looked up to see Scully in the
doorway, home from work, her hands twisting the corner of her lab
coat, eyes troubled.
"I think we're going to have to move."
A shudder went down his spine and he glanced briefly out the
window again, eyes searching for the hidden man in the shadows
that he knew would be there.
"Why now?"
"Someone approached me."
"What? What do you mean?"
She had his full attention now. He was stiff, poised on the balls
of his feet as if waiting for the attack.
She walked calmly to him and guided him to the couch, then sat
beside him, knowing that he was waiting for an answer, but also
knowing that she had to phrase it exactly right.
"It's all so unvbelievable," she muttered.
He snorted. "Never thought I'd hear you say that," sarcasm heavy
in his voice.
She raised her eyes at him and gave him a look. "Just listen, all
right? And don't say anything until I finish."
He shut his mouth quickly, angered by her coldness.
"Someone approached me today, after I got off the subway and was
in that one spot I told you about, the one that you were worried
about because it was so dark and was a good place for Shadow
people to hide, remember?"
He merely nodded, recalling walking past the little alley off the
abandoned cleaner's, and the darkness, and the way she never
seemed to remember that it was a dangerous place.
"I was standing at the corner, waiting for the light to change so
that I could cross and he came up to me. He was in a suit, with
navy blue pin stripe and a very conservative tie that screamed
WASP, you know?"
He said nothing, only continued his vigile by the window,
automatically checking for men in navy blue pen stripe suits, men
that might take his little girl.
"So, I sort of looked at him and he said ..."
Mulder's eyes were drawn back to her face and he stared at her,
noting the incredible doubt that seared her eyes.
"He said what?" he said softly, somehow realizing that whatever
she had heard or seen hadn't been what she'd been expecting.
"He said that I ... I was with child and that we had to flee."
He sat there for a moment, as if her words hadn't made it through
yet and he continued to stare out the window.
"What ..." he began.
"He said it exactly like that too, Mulder. 'With child'. No one
talks like that anymore. No one acts like he did. The light
changed and people began shoving to get across and he simply let
them all scramble around him and he kept the same peaceful,
radiant look on his face."
He shook his head violently.
"Are you saying some escaped nut came up to you and said some
things and now you believe him?"
"He wasn't a nut."
"Then what?"
"An angel?"
"Dana Scully!"
"What the hell else do you think it was?!" she said, jumping to
her feet and avoiding his eyes, knowing that if he looked at her,
she'd lose her resolve.
"Not an angel."
"Why not?"
He was speechless, his mouth open and staring at her as if the
real Dana Scully had been taken away by aliens and this was a
clone he was talking to.
But also, only that theory could have come from her.
"You believe God has been in contact with you?"
"Stop making it sound so stupid, Mulder. I'm not crazy. The man
was there, in front of me, *talking* to me."
"I believe that you believe that!" he shouted, standing up and
rushing over to her.
She backed away from him, eyes troubled and turbulent, as if this
very idea was killing her to even discuss.
"Mulder ... whoever or whatever he was, he told me we had to get
out of here. I heard his voice. I heard it. He was *afraid* for
us. He was urgent, insisting; he demanded that we leave."
"We?"
"He said your names. Libby's, yours."
She slumped to the chair, curling up in a fetal postion as if she
could hide from this new truth.
"He knew us?"
"I guess so."
"It could be someone from the Shadow men, warning us. Like Deep
Throat, or X."
"Oh, Mulder. If you had been there, you would understand. That man
could never be a shadow ... "
He turned, eyes searching the window and the yard out back for
answers to the sudden upheaval once again in their lives.
Libby.
"Where's Libby?" she said then.
His eyes were frantic when he turned to her and she jumped out of
the chair.
"Outside. Just a second ago she was there. I don't see her ..."
They ran for the stairs and tumbled down to the bottom floor, not
even bothering to keep their feet on the steps, simply sliding and
stumbling down. They burst from the back door, the heavy wood
swinging wide and slamming into the stone bricks with a noise that
sounded like a coffin lid closing.
Mulder's calls were hoarse and cracking as he yelled her name,
running through the tangles of trees that led to the back edge of
Central Park.
After a few minutes he no longer heard Scully behind him and he
had the sickening feeling in his gut that the Shadows had caught
her too.
He stopped in the middle of the thicket, feeling disgustingly like
Snow White, and stood still. His breath was the only sound to mar
the utter silence surrounding him.
===========
Scully had quickly lost sight of Mulder due to his urgency and
long legs and she gave up trying to keep up with him.
And then there was the man again. Looking oddly out of place in
his blue suit and nice shoes among the thorns and limbs of the
surrounding trees.
He took her hand in his and it was cool to the touch, as if he had
no blood to warm him up inside.
"Come on." he said, but just as last time, the words did not come
from his lips or vocal cords, but from inside her head.
She hadn't told Mulder that part because she hadn't been sure, but
now ... now she was.
She followed the man -- well she couldn't quite call him that --
deeper into the copse and watched as the branches seemed to
untangle before him and the trees sort of bowed to him.
Maybe it was just the brisk, cold wind blowing in from the
Sound ...
He led her to a clearing and Scully saw her little girl, sprawled
out on the ground, a man bending over her and searching the back
of her neck.
Scully's blood froze and she stood petrified until she felt the
nudge at her shoulder.
The man was there, watching her, telling her with his dark eyes
that everything was going to be all right.
Scully ran out and into the clearing, her hand reaching for a gun
that hadn't been there in months.
"Stop!" she screamed and attacked the man before he could defend
himself.
===========
He heard the yell, the sounds ahead of him and he began running
again.
He burst into the clearing and found Scully getting slammed into
the ground next to his unconscious little girl.
All thought deserted him and he pulled out his gun, his police
issue revolver that was slower than his Bureau service pistol, but
still had the power of death in its barrel.
Death arrived for the man hurting his family with painful slowness
and he fell in blood and one low scream.
And in the fallout was a man in a pin stripe suit, suddenly
bending over his little girl and handling her gently.
Mulder nodded with grim determination, then crawled next to
Scully, afraid to touch her.
"Scully?"
She groaned and her eyes flickered open, hands clenching in the
stillness.
"Libby..."
"She's okay. Your angel has her." he said, a trace of bitterness
in his voice.
"Oh ... Mulder ..." she murmured and turned her head to him, eyes
blinking and closing and blinking again.
He touched her head. "Can you move your fingers?"
She wiggled her fingers, then her toes, and then reached for his
hand. "I'm okay. No broken neck or anything." she said and sat up.
The man in blue gave her Libby's limp body and she cradled her
with shaking arms.
"Libby?"
"Mommy?" The voice was pitifully weak and Scully noticed the
slurred words and sluggish movement with a physician's clarity.
"She's been drugged, Mulder."
He took Libby in his arms and laid her against his chest, nestling
her head under his chin.
"How did you get ahead of me?" he said softly, his eyes on the
man.
Scully stood and steadied herself by holding on to his arm,
waiting for the dizziness to pass.
"He led me here. I followed him because he knew where she was."
He shook his head, inlcined to disbelieve, but something in him
screaming that this was real, this was truth.
"I thank you, sir, for --"
"That's all right. You see now. You must leave. Your family is in
danger."
Mulder looked at her with raised eyes and she frowned at him.
"Why?"
"You are in danger. They want what is not theirs back again. They
want her back again. And because they know."
"Know what?"
"That she has done what others could not."
"Who? Libby, or Dana?"
A faint smile and then a sort of amused laugh. "Both."
"What's going on? Won't you at least tell me what I have to do to
protect them?"
"Leave here. Leave now."
"Besides that! Damn you, I *know* that already!"
The man's face turned cloudy and his eyes were dark and angered.
"Damn nothing, Mr. Mulder, lest you damn yourself."
And then the trees were whispering, and he was gone.
He turned and saw that Scully was shaking.
===========
"Mulder! We have to leave! No matter *what* he said to us, or even
if he was real! Someone tried to *kill* Libby. They know."
She was almost pleading with him, knowing that he could be very
stubborn, very obstinate when he thought it was a matter of pride,
of proving himself.
"If we run, they'll know, Scully."
"They already know. You've seen them following us. I've watched
them watch Libby. I've seen your eyes when you don't think I'm
watching you. You're afraid!"
"That's right. I am afraid. I'm afraid even more now, because
there's a real nut acting like God or something and knowing way
too much about what's going on to let me trust him."
"He helped us Mulder."
"It sure looked like it, hunh?"
She sighed and shook her head, keeping the tears of frustration
and desperation from her eyes. She bit down on her lip and made
up her mind, praying at once for his forgiveness.
"I'm leaving, Mulder."
"What!"
She wouldn't look at him, only shakingly took out a bag and began
throwing things in it, clothes, Libby's favorite book, money, her
wedding ring ...
A pause and silence.
She fingered the ring and laid it back down on the dresser.
"You can decide now, Mulder. This is your chance to get out of it.
You don't love me like that anyway, and you've been getting pretty
sick of not having the X-Files, I know. But we'll be leaving. I
can't let anyone get to Libby, I can't stay here knowing that
there are Shadows that can so easily get to her."
She turned and walked from their bedroom, trying as hard as she
could to block out whatever noises he was making from behind her.
She didn't even get a chance to make it to the hallway.
He grabbed her and yanked her around, a sound like a desperate sob
rising in his throat.
"I'm *not* leaving you. I'm not letting you walk away with the
only -- the only part of my life that makes it worth living."
She pulled out of his tight grip. "Then stop licking your wounded
pride and *help* me."
He took her hand and pressed something into it.
The ring.
She looked up at him and his eyes begged her.
The ring was light and a shiny soft gold that fit perfectly onto
her finger.
It slid on gently and reflected the light from the hall, a mirror
image of his eyes appearing in its surface.
She pressed her head into his chest for one brief moment, needing
his security.
She had thought he would take his chance and leave.
He hadn't left. He hadn't left.
===========
Exodus
Chapter Two
===========
That night, Libby would not go to her own bedroom and she crawled
up between Mulder and Dana and fell alseep, her small body curled
around Mulder.
Dana was glad Libby had come because she didn't want to be alone
with Mulder tonight; she was afraid they'd fight again, and things
were so fragile now.
She twisted the ring on her finger, surprised she had not taken it
off before bed, but knowing that if she had, it would have been a
kind of death to him.
He did not want to be without her, or Libby, his eyes had made
that clear, but what did he want? Did he want an easy life, a
happy life? Or the perpetual gloom and despair he seemed to
radiate?
She wanted to leave now, and Mulder wanted to wait. He said that
their Shadows wouldn't try anything now and it was best to wait.
Scully was too tired to fight about it anymore and she had gone to
bed, prompting Libby and Mulder to follow.
She laid there, remembering the encounter with the pin stripe man
and his smile, the little bit of peace that seemed to radiate from
him in glowing waves. She knew she could trust him. She just had
to get Mulder to.
Libby's safety depended on it.
>The man said I was with child.<
With child.
Did he just mean Libby ... or what she thought he meant?
No. It was impossible. Mulder had told her; she had confirmed it.
She had lamented it and howled about it and sobbed and grown cold
and indifferent to it. It was impossible.
But if he was really an angel ... if he was then it could be a
true miracle.
But she couldn't get her hopes up. What if she wasn't? She
couldn't be. There was no time for it anymore. And if they did
have to leave, then it would be very inconvenient.
But a baby ...
She traced her hand along her stomach and caressed the warmth. Did
she imagine a little heart beat?
===========
Mulder stirred and opened his eyes, his senses immediately filling
in the night time stillness with the movements and the sounds he
knew were there.
He felt the warmth of his little girl's arm flung across his chest
and the coolness of the sheets. Then he heard her breathing and
the outside noises.
Then he heard something else.
It was what had awakened him.
He reached over and touched Scully softly, squeezing on her arm
until she slowly awoke.
She tensed to feel his anxiousness and lifted her head to see over
Libby and into his eyes.
He motioned for her to listen and her eyes closed in
concentration. She tuned out his breathing, blocked Libby's
sleeping sounds, and eliminated the night noises. It was a trick
Mulder had taught her once when she had woken afraid.
She heard it.
A sound of a key in the lock and a shuffling, like feet moving
from side to side.
She nodded and wet her lips, then rose from the bed and drew
Mulder's gun from the little drawer on the dresser. It was cold
and heavy and almost uncomfortable after so long without one.
It quickly became familiar and she slipped out of the bedroom.
Mulder came up behind her after he had untangled himself from
Libby and she felt his heat at her back.
"Left," he whispered and she detoured left and let him go right.
They met at opposite sides of the door and stood off to the side.
Suddenly the door swung open and Mulder was fighting and she
didn't have a clear shot and the man was hurting him ...
"Stop!" she yelled.
The man froze at the sound of the cocking of a gun and backed away
from Mulder, turning to see her.
It was the pin stripe suit man.
She lowered the gun and Mulder glanced harshly at her, his eyes
clearly saying he did not trust the man.
"I have come for you," the man said and held out his hand.
The gun took a life of its own and slumped out of her fingers and
into his hand, then was gone.
She gaped at him then realized that he had pocketed it, not made
it vanish.
Mulder was quickly at her side, standing slightly in front of her
in case the man tried anything.
"Mr. Mulder, I know you are trying to protect your family. But I'm
not the enemy. There are dark forces who conspire against you and
I have been sent here to make sure you get away before they can do
anything."
"Why now? Why sneak into our house like a snake?"
"It is not as a snake," he said, his voice scathing. "It is like
a Fox."
Mulder's jaw set and the muscles worked up and down, jumping along
his mouth and cheek. "Why are you here? Can't it wait till
morning?"
"No, it cannot. They are coming for you now."
"What?"
Scully came up and stood in front of him, fingering the cross
necklace on the chain around her neck. "You will help us?"
"Yes. We must leave now. They want what you have managed to
create."
"What's that?" Mulder said, eyes still wary. For all he knew, this
was a Shadow man coming to take them.
"Life. Love. You have it and no others of her kind do."
"Whose kind?"
"Your daughters and sons are placed with fathers and mothers and
homes and they do not have this. They have no love in them, or
they hurt others, or they do not talk, or they do not eat. Every
time there is something wrong. Except Libby."
Mulder stared back at him, his mouth dropping and his eyes slack
and unfocused as he absorbed this. His children, the other Emilys,
were somewhere hurting or unloved. And he had not found them.
Instead the Shadows had found his little girl.
He looked at Scully and her eyes held the dimness that crept up on
them whenever he had come home with another name scratched off the
list.
"We must leave now. I have everything ready for you. Money and
jobs and papers and passports and marriage certificates.
Everything for you to change identities completely about four
times."
Mulder looked at the man with shock. "Why are you doing this?"
"It is God's will," the man replied and left them, heading for
their bedroom as if he knew Libby would be there.
Scully looked at him with a kind of fever in her eyes. "Mulder, we
have to go. We have to get --"
"I know. I know. We're leaving."
He sighed and took one last look out the apartment window, his
eyes following the shapes of the trees and bushes and sidewalks
in the dark.
The Shadows were coming for them and they had to leave.
He swore it would be the last time the Shadows would find them.
===========
In the truck, her body sprawled along the back seat and bouncing
with the uneven road, Scully finally could think.
The man had put them in the truck and handed them some papers and
had kissed Libby good-bye as if he knew her as an uncle or
brother. Then he had looked at Scully and said something very
strange.
"Keep your children away from the Shadows."
Did he mean the Emliys, or did he mean the life that might grow
inside her? She still felt a sense of half hope at the idea that
she could be pregnant. Things he had said hinted it, but Mulder
had not asked or even realized this and she could say nothing now.
"Dana?"
"Yeah?" she answered softly, realizing with a bit of sadness that
Mulder did not call her Scully any longer.
His eyes glanced in the rear view mirror for her, but saw nothing
since she was lying on the seat.
"Did you really think he was an angel?"
"Yes." she said honestly, wishing he would drop it and just forget
about it. They were on their way to another life. They did not
need fights.
"I think you might be right," he said, his words coming out
slowly and softly. "And I want to say I'm sorry for hurting you
earlier. I don't want you to think that --"
"I don't think anything Mulder. I was out of line with what I
said. You didn't deserve it. I know you do love Libby and you were
only trying to do what was right."
"I love Libby very much. I love you very much."
She made a face into the seat, wishing he would drop it. He didn't
love her like she wanted, like she needed, and she was tired of it
being a sore spot with him. She thought it would be better if she
had never had told him.
"Mulder?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't ..." She trailed off. It was hard to lie to him, hard to
openly say what she needed to in order for him to let it go. "I
think I made a mistake, when we talked on that bench. I think I
mistook devotion and kindness and dependence and friendship, and
maybe a little bit of hero worship, for something more. You do
have my love, but not ... not in the way ... well, I think we love
each other as friends and that is it."
She bit down hard on her lip to keep the tears away and was glad
he could not see her face. He would see her lies.
"Oh," he said and she could hear the disappointment. She supposed
it would be kind of disappointing, even though he did not love her
that way.
"I ... I understand. It's, ah ... yeah. I understand."
She nodded and turned in the seat to the back, so that even if he
turned around while she slept, he would not see the tracks across
her face or the pain from telling him lies.
Libby made a noise in her sleep and Mulder glanced over.
He heard a sigh, like when you have cried very hard and finally
breathe in after the long ordeal.
It sounded like the sigh of a woman giving up her dreams.
He hoped her words had not been the truth.
===========
Exodus
Chapter Three
===========
It was a long way to San Fransisco, that much he had learned. When
you couldn't just hop on a flight and go there, it was a very long
way.
Libby liked the road trip and she enjoyed running around at the
rest stops, or helping Scully buy things at the gas stations, or
singing at the top of her lungs in the car.
She sat in the front seat most of the time, letting Mulder and
Scully switch off driving and sleeping, so that neither were awake
at the same time. Instead of taking five or six days to reach
California, that way they made it in four.
When Scully drove, Libby was allowed to pick the radio stations
and she got to talk more, but when Mulder drove, she got to sit in
his lap and steer sometimes.
Libby wasn't sure which she liked better, driving with Daddy or
talking and playing with Mommy.
"Mommy?" she said softly, her voice rising above the radio and
into Scully's consciousness.
"Yeah, baby?" Scully answered, checking her mirror and changing
lanes so they could take a bathroom break.
"Why did we have to leave everything?"
Dana sighed and glanced over briefly at her, wishing the question
had not come. She wasn't sure what to say.
"Because ... do you remember what it was like Before, Libby? When
your other Mommy took you away from the doctors and you came to
us?"
Libby's tiny face screwed up and she twisted around in her seat.
"You're not going to leave me, are you?"
Her quick little mind had already taken those classic Mulder-
leaps.
"Oh no, baby. We're not leaving you. We're going some place where
the doctors can't find you anymore," Scully said, reaching out a
hand to touch her head and stroke her hair.
"Did they find us before?"
"Well, a man came and told us that they had, and we thought it was
best to be careful."
"Oh."
Silence erupted suddenly and Scully took the exit for the rest
stop. She pulled into an empty spot and turned the engine off.
Libby scrambled out of the truck and up to the vending machines.
Scully called out to her, "Bathroom first, baby."
Libby swerved and went for the restrooms.
It was dark and getting close to eight o'clock, which meant Mulder
would drive for the rest of the way.
Scully opened the back door and pulled herself up into the seat,
resting on the small space available.
She touched his cheek and ran her fingers along his throat, urging
him to wake up.
"Mulder?" she whispered, lips close to his ear, thumb stroking his
cheek.
He mumbled and moved a bit, nuzzling her leg with his nose.
"Come on, Mulder. Wake up, it's your watch."
His eyes blinked open and came to focus on her sitting there.
"Scully."
"Wake up, sleepy head."
He sat up, moving away from her touch and upright for the first
time in about ten hours.
He glanced at his watch and turned quickly back to her.
"You should have woken me earlier."
"You were tired. You let me sleep in yesterday."
"But --"
"Just let it go, Mulder." she sighed and slipped out of the truck.
He watched her walk away, into the receeding dark illuminated by
the lights of the rest stop. She looked exhausted, overworked,
almost sick. He hoped she wasn't getting a cold from all of this.
He locked the truck after making sure he had the keys and walked
up to the huge map in the lobby. It marked their spot and he saw
she had driven them into Oklahoma already.
Libby came running out of the bathroom at top speed, then plowed
into his legs.
"Daddy can I have money for the vending machines?" she said,
talking through quick breaths.
He pulled out a dollar and handed it to her. "No caffeine, baby."
She nodded while she ran out.
He went to the bathroom, washed his hands and face and then came
out. Scully was there, hands in her pockets, eyes on the map and
following the roads etched there.
He came up behind her and encircled her with his arms.
She leaned into him and he knew he was forgiven.
The room smelled like cleaner and disinfectant, so he propelled
her outside, waiting for Libby to get something from vending
under the huge overhang of the rest stop.
Dana breathed in the scent of rain and dust, mixed with a kind of
atmosphere that was prevalent in the West. She couldn't quite tell
what it was, only that it wasn't present in the Northeast.
He wrapped his arms around her again, nose tucked into her
shoulder and neck, breathing in her scent, forgoing the smell of
earth and rain for one of Scully.
Even now, even after everything, he thought of her as Scully. He
had tried to force his tongue to use Dana, thinking it would make
his mind use Dana, but it hadn't worked. He called her Dana, and
thought Scully.
Sometimes, Scully would slip out and she got this look on her face
he couldn't decipher, so he didn't use it.
He wondered what was meant by her use of Mulder. Maybe just
uncomfortable with saying Fox, or maybe she thought he really
hated it.
He sighed.
They had new names now. Entirely different ones. Before they were
Jared and Sue Miller. He hadn't been able to call her that. She'd
managed to take it in stride and called him Miller, as a sort of
joke he had first thought. But then, bad things had happened and
words got mixed up and they'd gone back to Mulder and Scully, even
Dana ...
Now it was Chris and Kate Williams. Very average, run of the mill,
names that would not cause anyone to think twice.
He shifted and wondered if he could call her Kate. Or if they
would even be able to pull this off. The man that had come to them
seemed confident enough, seemed to know what he was doing.
They had jobs already set up in San Fransisco. She would work at
an Inner City Clinic and he was the manager, ironically enough, of
Fox Photos.
Libby came back just then and they got back into the truck. Libby
opted for the back seat this time and Scully sat in the front,
next to him, her eyes and body too wired to fall asleep just yet.
Mulder got them back on the highway and into the fast lane,
thinking far away from his family.
She had been right, earlier. He thrived on the danger and mystery
of the X-Files. He needed that in his life to give it direction
and ... meaning, almost. But she had one thing wrong.
He needed her too. He needed his family and that love and hope and
everything it entailed.
It felt good to be on the road, running again, but it felt even
better at home, Libby in his arms and Scully snuggled up beside
him as he read to his daughter.
His thoughts began to wander back to the X-Files, to the beasts
they'd seen, the monsters and conspiracies and the cancer. All
the death there, surrounding them both, yet not ever drowning
them.
Scully saw his far away eyes and reached out her hand to touch
his.
She grabbed it and held it beside her for a moment before gently
pressing her lips to his skin.
He stroked her fingers and held on to her tightly.
She closed her eyes and curled up beside him, head pressed into
his thigh. Her jaw and back relaxed and then he felt her fall into
sleep.
He put one hand protectively to her forehead and then, in a moment
of sudden insight, touched her stomach.
The man had said ...
He sighed. He didn't want to get his hopes up.
===========
Exodus
Chapter Five
===========
Libby barely noticed the changes outside the window, how the
gentle grass and ocassional tree had been supplanted by weeds and
rocks and no more trees.
She sat carefully perched on the seat, her baby fingers reviewing
everything she had very carefully, touching it and making her mind
remember everything.
First her box. It was white and old and had black marker on the
side that read "Case#330000-399999" and it had once been her
Daddy's. Inside were all her books, from her Baby Bunny Colors to
her "Wrinkle In Time" and "Charlotte's Web." She ran her fingers
over the spines, then across the covers and remembered reading the
stories with Mommy and Daddy. Her box was full and she closed the
lid.
Next, her backpack. Mommy had rushed to her in the night, their
last night in New York, and given her the bag and told her to put
only the things she wanted to take in it. Mommy had said they
could not come back to get anything. She unzipped it slowly and
peered into the darkness of its recesses. There were her two
favorite videos, "The Fox and The Hound," and "Winnie the Pooh,"
along with her stuffed fox that Mommy had gotten her. Daddy always
laughed when he saw it and it somehow made things better when they
were mad at each other. So, Libby had brought it. Then her Barbie
that she'd gotten at a garage sale. Its hair was still shiny and
new smelling and it had all the clothes and things still with it.
A Ziploc bag of Barbie clothes was buried next to her videos. Next
was her stuffed, old fashioned Pooh, with its light yellow bow and
sad eyes that reminded her of Daddy's.
Then the pillow and her faded blue blanket.
It was all she had managed to take.
She frowned and knew there was something missing. Something else
her fingers should have touched when she'd done the inventory. The
box, the bag, the blanket, the bear --
She knew at once what she had missed. "Mommy!"
The voice came to Dana frightened, panicked. Her eyes immediately
went to the rear view mirror to see Libby's wide eyes.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"Where's my bear? Where's my Moving Bear?"
"I don't know baby. Did you look for it?"
But Libby had grown anxious and she peered at Mulder's sleeping
form and then crept up to the divider. She slid over the front
seat, landing in Mulder's lap and awakening him, her eyes
searching for her bear.
"Libby!" Scully said, trying to keep her eyes on the road, yet
keep Libby from getting hurt. "Get back in your seat and put your
seatbelt on."
"I can't find Teddy!" she wailed and her face scrunched up with
tears.
"Did you look in your bag?"
"Oh, Mommy, I looked all over!"
Her voice and expression were so pitiful that Dana took her hand
and kissed it.
Mulder was awake now and trying to coax Libby back into her seat.
"When we get to the rest stop, we'll open the trunk and look in
there, okay Libby?"
"What if he's not there? What if I lost him?" she sniffled,
allowing herself to be strapped in.
Mulder twisted back around in his seat. "We'll call the motel,
baby. We'll ask them."
Libby was silent, her eyes seeing the scenery now as it slipped
by, but not recognizing anything she saw.
Mulder leaned over to Sully, eyebrows knitted together. "Scully, I
didn't pack her bear in the trunk." he said.
She shook her head. "I didn't see it either."
Dana's eyes slid back to the little girl sitting forlornly on the
back seat, her face mournful and almost comically dramatic. "What
will we do?" she said.
"Call that motel. She probably left it in the room."
Scully nodded and glanced once more to their daughter.
Libby tucked her head into her blanket, then laid on her pillow,
eyes watching the so-blue sky as it raced by outside. Her bear was
gone.
Her bear was gone.
===========
"No luck," Mulder said, returning the thick accumulation of
assorted papers back to his wallet.
Scully bit her lip and looked down at Libby's ancient eyes. They
begged her to find her bear.
Suddenly inspiration struck. "Mulder! Did you steal the motel pen
again?"
He chuckled. "I don't steal them ... but yeah."
"I bet the number's there." She flashed him a victorious smile and
he felt a warm tingling grow in his skin.
"I bet you're right," he said, but he was thinking, <You used to
smile for me like that all the time. What happened?>
He dug through the glove compartment and came up with a fistful of
pens, in various shapes and colors.
"Okay, which is it?" he said, glancing to her.
"Travel ... something."
He frowned and rooted around in his hand, poking some back into
the glove compartment.
"Oh. Here it is. I remember. Bright ugly pink color. Good job,
G-woman."
She smiled again. "As someone once said, that's why they put the
'I' in FBI ..."
His groan cut her off. "Don't remind me."
"Why? It was cute at the time."
"Yeah, right. I was trying to freak you out, make you think I was
nutty."
"And you did an excellent job of it. In fact, I still think you're
nutty."
"Oh well, thanks Agent Scully. I appreciate your honesty."
He could tell the words were cutting deeper than mere sarcasm. She
winced and shot right back.
"Hey, the truth is out there."
"Deny everything," he noted.
"Well," she said softly. "That is a long standing policy of
yours."
He looked over, knowing exactly what she meant. The bench in
Central Park. He leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck.
"Well, from now on. Apology is policy."
She seemed to almost hum. "Well, if this is how you apologize, I
just might forgive you."
He was reaching over to touch her when Libby yelled.
"Rest stop! Rest stop!"
Dana grinned. "Yeah, baby. I see it."
===========
Mulder sighed and thanked the man and then replaced the receiver.
Libby could already tell.
"No bear," she said softly.
"That's right, Libby. They didn't find your bear."
Libby's lip quivered and her chin trembled. The brightness of the
rest stop's location did nothing to relieve the growing doom over
her.
"No more Moving Bear," she whispered.
Silent tears slipped down her cheeks and she felt Mommy put her
arms around her. She tried not to cry, she wasn't supposed to cry.
Mulder had been expecting a huge tantrum. But this was Libby, and
she was always like Scully when it came to feelings.
She cried silently and clutched at the bench, obviously trying to
hold back tears.
Scully wrapped her deeper in her arms and pulled her up off the
bench and into her lap. "Libby, it's okay to cry when you're sad."
A heart breaking sob wrenched from her body, as if it had been
stored up her entire little life, waiting for the acceptable time
to explode. Dana found herself crying too, as Mulder rubbed
Libby's back and stroked her hair.
"I lost him. I lost my bear. I'm sorry Daddy. I didn't mean to
lose him."
Mulder's throat caught around the jagged edges of his heart and he
leaned down close to her, praying with all his strength that his
daughter did not end up like him.
"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. Things happen like this and no
one means for it to happen. You didn't do anything wrong, Libby.
You didn't do anything wrong."
Her face was laying on her Scully's shoulder, cheek pressed into
her T-shirt and tear stains on both of them. Dana gently rocked
her back and forth.
"Daddy, do you think another little girl got him and picked him
up?"
Mulder wondered if the idea would upset her. "Maybe."
"Is that little girl going to love my Moving Bear?"
"Of course, sweetie."
"So, he'll be all right."
"Your bear will be all right. He'll miss you just like you miss
him, but he'll be all right."
Libby let out a big sigh, like she had weathered a storm of
enormous proportions.
"Libby, on the way, we'll stop and get you another bear, okay?"
Scully said softly.
Mulder didn't know if Libby would like that, but once again, Libby
turned out to be more Scully than he realized.
"Another bear. But it still won't be the same, will it Daddy?"
Mulder shook his head. "No. This one will be a California Bear."
Libby gave a little smile. "A California bear?"
Her child words mauled California, but it made them smile.
"Yes. And you can name him whatever you want."
It seemed to be settled and they were once again on the highway,
heading closer and closer to San Fransisco and their new home.
Everything was quiet as Libby played in the back seat with her
Barbie and Mulder stared idly out the window.
Suddenly he turned to her.
"We did good with that," he said softly, smiling at her.
She felt pride return. "Yes, we did."
"See, Scully? We can be parents. We're good parents."
She smiled and he squeezed her leg, leaving his hand resting
across her thigh.
She couldn't help remembering what the pin stripe man had said.
Mulder laid down, stretching out and putting his head next to her
leg.
"Yup, we're going to be all right."
===========
Exodus
Chapter Four
===========
Scully refused to let the truck end up like his office had always
been.
She tossed the empty cups and McDonalds bag into the trash then
searched the rest stop for Libby's small figure.
She was running through the paths, the lights making her suddenly
flare into view, then disappear as the darkness claimed her. Dana
sighed and went back to their truck, praying that Libby didn't get
anymore Coke.
Libby bounded into the truck without any vending treat and handed
her mother the money back. Scully, surprised, took it and put it
in her pocket just as Mulder came out of the restrooms.
He looked like hell, his face pasty and shadowed by lack of sleep,
hair dull and lifeless, just like his eyes, his body slumping
forward and sagging. He moved in slowly, then opened the door of
the truck for her, sweeping the air with a stiff hand.
"Your coach awaits," he murmured and she got in, watching him
climb into the back seat with the grace of a ninety year old
woman.
He was far beyond exhausted.
He immediately let his eyes slide shut; Libby was sleeping too.
Dana sighed and backed out of the space, coming to a quick
decision right then that she knew Mulder would argue about later.
After twenty minutes on the interstate, Dana found a place that
looked reasonably clean and had good rates. A few seedy looking
cars outside the office and the pool was closed, but much better
than the places she'd been to with Mulder.
She didn't like the way the man looked at her as she signed in,
and she especially didn't enjoy his eyes raking her over, but she
smiled and ignored his obvious appraisal, and got back in the
truck.
She drove around to their motel room, number 147, ironically
enough, and parked at the available slot. The truck's engine
stopped and all was silent for a moment.
Mulder was still out cold and Libby was breathing heavily and she
herself was ready to fall asleep right there.
She tried to wake Libby but every time she tried, Libby would
mumble and kick with her feet or wriggle away.
"Come on, Libby. Time for bed."
Libby whined, eyes still closed, mouth open and breath coming
slow and heavy. She burrowed farther into the seat and ignored
her mother.
All Dana could do was try and carry her to the room.
She unlocked the door, propped it open with the waste bucket, and
attempted to haul the four year old into the room and onto the
bed.
It was more physically challenging than the stupid obstacle course
at Quantico.
She slumped back on the other bed as she finally managed to tuck
Libby in, pulling off her shoes and letting her sleep in her
clothes.
She closed her eyes and caught her breath, massaging the back of
her cramped neck with one hand.
She felt tingling go up her spine and she whirled around, eyes
open, heart thudding.
"Mulder!"
"Why'd we stop? What's going on?" he slurred, eyes still bleary
and scratchy. He rubbed a hand over his chin and shut the door.
"We need to stop and get a good night's sleep. This isn't working
anymore."
He eyed her. She was slumped and pale, her eyes held no sparks and
her body language screamed defeat.
"If you're tired, I can drive for a bit more," he said, sitting
down next to her.
She jumped up. "No you can't! Mulder, yesterday, I woke up and saw
you practically asleep at the wheel. But I didn't even have the
energy to do anything about it!"
She sighed and slumped back on the bed, realizing that yelling at
a tired Mulder was like yelling at cows. Neither would be able to
listen.
"Libby is exhausted, but she can't sleep. She takes a nap for an
hour, then stays up until we change drivers, then she's sleeping
for another hour. I don't know when she's gotten a full eight
straight hours of sleep."
Mulder's eyes traveled to Libby's face, a bit hot and sweaty with
her clothes still on and the blankets over her.
"She doesn't sleep with me at all," he said quietly.
"At all?"
"No. I should've realized. Oh, sh --"
"Stop it, Mulder. We didn't know. At least we do now. She'll be
fine."
He collapsed onto the bed, stretching his cramped muscles as far
as they would go. "Ah ... I needed that."
She gave him a flash of a smile and stood, moving over to Libby
and puling the covers down a bit so that she wouldn't get too hot.
He watched, then reached out and captured her wrists, pulling her
down beside him.
"I missed you," he said.
She looked at him strangely, and her eyes told him she didn't
understand.
"We never get a chance to be together anymore. You're awake and
I'm asleep. You wake up and I fall asleep." He paused, running his
fingers along the side of her face. "I never get to see you."
She smiled softly and kissed his fingers, but a part of her
shuddered and tried not to attach any emotional significance to
his movements. He was tired and he thought he needed her ... he
needed to relieve tension, exhaust himself ...
She let out a shaky breath as he traced the lines of her lips, her
breath tickling his hand.
"Scully ..."
She felt the ice melt from around her and she let her defenses
down. He had said 'Scully,' not Dana. It was almost as if she had
him back -- the real Mulder with the passion for work and for
truth and for paranormal. She had him back.
And he was looking at her like that ...
He wasn't dense though; he noticed the change, the way her body
relaxed and her limbs loosened.
"You okay?" he asked, sliding a hand through her hair.
She nodded. "I missed that."
He kissed her mouth gently. "What did you miss? I'll be happy to
do it more often."
Her lips worked into a smile under him ... she seemed to be
silently recanting the words she had spoken in the truck at the
beginning.
"My name. I missed it coming from those lips."
He kissed her eyes then, his hands holding her still beside him.
"Your name?"
"Scully ..." she whispered, eyes closing as his touch found secret
hidden places of pleasure within her.
But then he stopped.
"What? Your name? Why?"
She caught her breath, opening her eyes and trying to keep the
vulnerability from her face.
"It's more than just my name. It signals a change in you ... a ...
a return. I don't know. Mever mind."
She turned and lay on her side, facing away from him. He had a
horrible feeling she was trying not to cry.
"Please tell me." he said, knowing that somehow this was very
important.
He fell silent, waiting for her.
"When you say it, it seems that this could be real. Like it could
have happened if there had never been any Emilys. You say Scully
and you kiss me just as you said Scully and we chased after
monsters or Eddie Van Blundht or just as we sat alone in an
office and tried not to let each know how much we hurt ..."
She stopped again.
"It makes me think ..." she started, then gazed at the wall.
He grew frustrated and propped up on his elbow.
"It makes you think what? That I could love you? You'd better
think that. You'd better think I love you, Scully." He emphasized
her name with a kind of desperate urgency.
"Why? So that people will believe our cover and the Shadows won't
catch us?"
"No!" he cried and it was hoarse with a kind of frustrated rage
that she'd never seen in him before. "No. Because I do. Because I
love you and I don't know why I ever thought I could hide it from
you."
She was silent, unblinking, trying to keep the hope from rising in
her chest. "You told me that before. In New York you said the same
words and then you denied them a month later on a cold bench in
Central Park. And now those words have come again."
"Please don't, Scully."
He knew her that well. Without even being able to see her he knew.
The use of her name was a slap and she withdrew from him.
"I won't let you do this to me, Mulder."
She was too far past anger.
"Do you trust me, Scully?"
Silence from her.
"As long as you still trust me, then we've still got a chance,
right?"
"Mulder, stop."
It sounded like a woman pleading for her life. He reached out to
touch her neck and she shivered.
She was crying.
"Don't cry," he muttered feebly. "Don't cry."
She shook her head and tried to pull away but collapsed against
him instead.
"You don't know how much I want to ..."
"Then what keeps you from believing me?"
"I'm afraid."
He smiled. "I've heard that before ..."
She nodded and let him pull her to him.
He kissed her gently, as a sort of apology.
She smiled a bit. "Go to sleep Mulder."
"Yes ma'am," he said and smiled.
She still trusted him.
===========
Exodus
Chapter Six
===========
They were walking down the toy aisle of Wal-Mart when the nausea
hit.
It almost knocked her over and she stood very still, swallowing
down the rising waves of bile and acid. Taking a deep breath, Dana
forced her legs to move to where Mulder stood, looking at some
Teddy Bears Libby had found.
She felt it rise again and closed her mouth tightly, breathing
through her nose, trying to keep her control. She glanced around
the huge place and found the bathrooms -- all the way on the other
side of the store.
"Mulder," she said, leaning close to him. "I'm going to the
bathroom. Meet you at the check-out lanes."
She propelled herself forward before he could say anything.
She vomited four times in the toilet before she felt steady
enough to try and make it out of the bathroom. On the way to the
door, the stinging sensation rose again and she almost didn't make
it to the sink.
Washing it out slowly, she felt her entire body shaking as she
tried to get the taste of it out of her mouth and the smell of it
out of her nose.
She ran back to the stalls before she even had a chance to collect
herself.
She lay curled on the cold tile floor for a few minutes, letting
its chill shock her back into energy. She tried to calculate how
much time it'd been since she'd left Mulder and Libby, but she
couldn't even begin to guess.
She stood shakily, taking it much more slowly this time, and
shuffled over to the sink to wash her face and rinse her mouth
out.
The bathroom door flew open as she was washing her hands and
Scully was grateful the woman hadn't come in while she was giving
over her breakfast.
The woman looked oddly at her as it was, prompting Dana to look
in the mirror at herself.
She looked as miserable as she felt.
She took her make-up compact from her purse and tried to rid
herself of the paleness and the sickness.
She steadied herself once more and then strode out the door with
false courage.
A brief wave almosst sent her back, but she walked on, making it
to the registers before Mulder and Libby even got there.
She didn't have long to wait before Libby came bounding up, a huge
tan bear in her hands.
"Sorry we took so long," Mulder said, giving her a half smile.
She nodded, not trusting her stomach enough to open her mouth.
"See, Mommy? He's got a tan."
Dana smiled and felt its fur. "Soft, too."
"Daddy said he had the tan," Libby explained proudly. "That's what
makes him a California bear."
"Oh, wow. What are you going to name him?" she said, drawing
closer to her.
"Teddy," she said, as if everyone should know *that*.
Mulder chuckled and led her to the check-out line, his hand
touching the back of her head to lead her along. Scully realized
with a twinge that it was almost the same height as where Mulder
used to place his hand to guide her.
Her stomach flipped over and she ground her teeth.
===========
They arrived at the outskirts of San Fransisco and had to turn off
the air conditioner and even pull on sweatshirts, although it was
the middle of June. The roads went up and down and then up again
and Scully kept her forehead pressed to the window and her eyes
closed.
Her stomach threatened horrible things.
They made their way through light traffic, since it was ten at
night, and when they got a block away from the addresses they'd
been given by the man in the pin stripe suit, Mulder pulled into
a parking lot, paid ten dollars and stopped the truck.
"Stay here. I'm going to walk on ahead, check it out."
Scully frowned, wishing she could go with him, but nodded.
He locked the doors and gave her the keys. "If I'm not back in
thirty minutes, leave. Drive off and don't ever come back."
"Mulder," she protested, thinking it a bit extreme.
"Scully. If I don't come back, then it means they know. You can't
let them have Libby. You can't."
She gulped down her madly churning stomach and nodded again.
He started to get out of the truck but she pulled him back, then
with a hesitant start, kissed his cheek.
He gave her an odd, martyr-like smile and vanished.
She waited.
===========
At twenty-eight minutes, she was sliding across the seat to tuck
Libby under her blanket and pull it closer around her.
At thirty minutes she slid behind the wheel.
At thirty-two minutes she tried to estimate in her mind just how
far a walk it would be to the address and then how long it would
take a paranoid Mulder to check out the place and then come back.
At thirty-four minutes she was biting her lip and telling her
stomach that there was nothing to get upset over.
At thirty-six minutes she was wishing she had kissed him on the
mouth with a lot more passion.
And at thirty-eight minutes, his head was coming over the ramp,
his body's shadow long and lean and food to her hungry eyes.
He approached the truck, glaring in at her.
"I told you to leave after thirty minutes," he said, getting in
after she had unlocked the doors.
She gave him a look. "I padded the time."
"Who said you could pad the time?"
"I know you, Mulder. *I* said I could pad the time."
He stared out the window into darkness. "Oh?"
"Yes. You're very careful when you're paranoid. And careful means
slow."
"Slow?"
"Yes, slow."
He nodded and took the keys from her. "So, do you always pad my
time?"
She raised her eyebrows as he started the car.
"Yeah. You do, don't you?" he murmured.
"So, maybe I do. It works, doesn't it?"
He grunted and pulled out of the lot. "The place checked out
clean. The landlady even talked with me. She's nice, older,
smells heavily like old lady perfume, you know?"
She smiled and glanced back at Libby. "Did you get to look
inside?"
"Uh-huh. Already furnished. Stocked too. I let one of her dogs eat
a piece of bread and he didn't keel over."
"Mulder ..." she sighed and put a hand to her mouth, forcing her
stomach to control itself.
He kind of laughed, but it came out more like a sigh. "I'm tired,
Scully. What do you say we forget about unpacking and just put
everyone to bed?"
She nodded. "Sounds good."
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Are you all right,
Dana?"
She nodded.
"Seriously. I'm not asking because I think I'm supposed to. I
really want to know."
She looked over at him but his face was unreadable.
"I'm fine."
There was no conviction behind her words but it was their old code
for 'leave me alone for now.' He shut his mouth and drove.
===========
Morning was hell. Mulder was upset because they'd been given jobs
to report to and his was a low blow as he called it. He would work
at Fox Photos, managing the film processing department and the
pin stripe man said he'd contact them through that venue. He
didn't have to report in till Monday.
Scully was working at an Inner City Clinic and he was scared to
death. It'd be easy to stage a random shooting down there, pretend
it was drive-by.
She had to go in that day and Mulder had insisted on going with
her. Libby was going to stay with the landlady, Mrs. Shawl. Her
daycare school didn't start until Monday either.
She had fallen asleep finally at one o'clock and then woken up six
hours later to Libby's nightmare and Mulder's franticness.
Libby had been calmed down and Mulder too, and then they'd all
gotten up and tried to get ready for the day.
Work was hell too.
Five gunshot wounds in a matter of an hour and one of the nurses
remarked that it was a slow lunch hour.
Scully nearly threw up when a homeless man walked in with maggots
eating out his arms and eyes. She was grateful Mulder stayed in
the back.
Her stomach was already tender, and then an entire day of things
that were on living people and she was ready to go home.
Mulder drove while she dozed and he thoughtfully and wisely said
nothing about her pallor.
They picked Libby up and went up to their apartment, then made a
hasty dinner of green beans and macaroni and cheese. Libby watched
television afterward and Scully laid on their bed trying not to
moan.
Mulder sat down next to her sprawled form and gently began to rub
her face, tracing the delicate lines around her mouth and nose and
eyes.
She relaxed into the touch and smiled at him, her eyes closed,
letting him know she appreciated it.
His thumb curled around her chin and his fingers brushed her neck
softly, soothingly, a low trembling kind of hum coming from the
back of his throat.
She placed a little kiss on his thumb and curled around him,
tucking her head right against his knee.
He ran his fingers through her tangled hair, massaging her scalp.
She sighed and sank deeper into sleepiness.
"Scully, are you going to be okay?"
His voice was small and gentle, like a child with a question that
he's afraid of the answer.
"I will be, Mulder. I will be." she said softly and thought again to
the only thing going through her mind.
She could be pregnant.
She could be ...
But it was impossible.
She felt the bed shift and then Mulder was lying down next to her,
bringing her head close to him and kissing her forehead. She
stayed there, pleasantly surrounded by his warmth, and fell
asleep.
Mulder sighed.
She was not telling him everything.
=============
Exodus
Chapter Seven
=============
Saturday seemed long and tiring to her, but it could have been
because of the nervous fluttering in her stomach and the odd
sensation that something was going to happen.
She knew she would have to do something about her suspicions, but
she still had a hard time even thinking it could be true.
Mulder was driving her crazy. He wouldn't stop looking at her.
Obviously, he realized something was wrong and he was too polite
to simply ask her outright. No, she'd have to offer the
information.
She sighed. Sometimes, she wished it wasn't like that.
Libby had made a friend of Mrs. Shawl and she was downstairs, in
her apartment, hopefully not annoying the poor lady. Mrs. Shawl
was going to teach her how to play the piano, Libby had said, and
Scully could hear her quiet voice in her head, the excitement
uncontainable.
Mulder was trying not to explode at her. She felt like she needed
a good explosion. Something big and powerful that would knock them
both off their feet.
The kitchen was her retreat and it was a wonderfully big kitchen
for an apartment in San Fransisco. The roof contained a skylight
since they were on the third and topmost floor, and the sun could
stretch its lazy fingers right onto table and walk over the floor.
The windows were small and stained glass because of the ample
light let in by the skylight, and in the evening when the sun set
she liked to go in there and be bathed in amber and turquoise and
fuschia, the colors in riot over her skin and clothes. She would
close her eyes and feel the warmth and smell spices and soap and
dinner and it would remind her of the goodness that could come of
things.
Cooking was first a defense, because Mulder was so lousy at it,
but was now a relaxation, a time for her to forget and find
herself. Mulder had seen the difference in her and had greedily
intruded upon it, asking her to teach him how to cook, to teach
him the peace she could find there. She had and had grown
frustrated and uptight and it hadn't worked for him either.
So he let her cook and he did the laundry. Fair trade, especially
since he actually *liked* doing the laundry. She didn't understand
it, but she sure didn't question it.
A hand snaked around her waist as she stood at the counter.
"Guess what?" he said and his voice was strained with excitement
and longing.
"Hmm?" she said, putting the last of their plates from lunch into
the dishwasher.
"We're going somewhere tonight."
"Where?" she asked looking over her shoulder at him, the light
from the stained glass casting his face in blues.
A little grin lit his face. "Right here."
She sighed; he was doing it again. "Mulder, you're not making any
sense."
"Mrs. Shawl wants Libby to spend the night and Libby is dying to,
and so we have the whole apartment to ourselves." he explained.
"So ... we're going where?"
"Well, it's a surprise."
She didn't really enjoy surprises.
"It's a good surprise, Scully," he remarked, seeing her face.
He shifted and his eyes were cast in triangles of amber, a patch
on his cheek was still blue, and the rest was bright yellow.
"All right. Is Libby staying all of today and tonight?"
"Yeah. She's having a great time. Mrs. Shawl is teaching her to
play 'Mary Had A Little Lamb'."
Scully nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad they get along so well.
Libby needed a sort of grandmother."
A kind of sadness washed over her face and he recognized the old
melancholy settle. He was sure she missed her mother a lot. He
knew she talked with her mother about things she couldn't talk
about with him, and now she didn't have that anymore.
The room smelled like cookies and he glanced toward the oven,
looking for evidence of her baking. He had never pegged her as a
closet chef.
She gave him a little smile. "Butter cookies, Mulder. In the
cabinet up there."
He grinned ridiculously and reached over her head for the cookie
tin, leaning in very close to her so that his breath made waves
across her hair.
He popped two into his mouth, chewed a couple of times, and
swallowed, giving her an endearing smile. "Good," he mumbled,
reaching for more.
She grabbed his hand. "Save some," she warned and he grinned and
took out three more.
"This is it," he promised and took her still damp hand and led her
to their small living room.
He turned on the radio and jazz tumbled through the small speakers
and into the room, washing them in peaceful shades of music and
melody.
He ate his cookies hurriedly and dropped to the futon couch,
pulling her down with him so that she landed in his lap.
He was smiling so brightly that it was all she could do not to
melt into him right there.
"What exactly are you doing Mulder?" she said, raising her eyebrow
and feeling the warmth spread through her.
He frowned in mock agitation. "I'm trying to seduce you. Is it
working?"
She let him have the statisfaction of a smile and then gave him a
classic 'what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you' look that made grin like
a fool.
"Yup, it's working," he said and winked at her.
She laughed, feeling at ease and comfortable there, with laughter
and jokes and him; all of it taking her back to places she'd
forgotten.
"I'd forgotten what it sounded like when you laughed," he murmured
as his head bent to kiss her collarbone.
The truth of that made her sad and she pulled his head up to look
at him. He was bewildered, eyes wide and asking and lips quivering
as if taken from a feast.
"Thank you, Mulder. I'd forgotten how to laugh." she said.
The moment was sort of trapped and she once again felt the oddness
of them, the unnaturalness of their union, and she moved to get
off his lap.
"Smile for me," he said suddenly and stood up with her.
A grin sort of skirted across her face. "On demand?"
The remark was like a wind that blew back the easiness between
them and suddenly she found her body leaning against his, a
wonderful-feeling full fledged smile infusing her.
He replied with the same and wrapped his long arms around her.
"Good. You can still do it. I wonder if your muscles ever forget."
Their banter was light and yet it meant something else, some kind
of message he needed to be able to tell her and some answer she
needed to give.
"I smile," she protested.
"When?"
"I laugh at you while you're asleep. You do funny things in your
sleep, Mulder."
"I do not," he said, eyes wide and mortified.
She was enjoying this.
"Oh yes. Odd things. Revealing things." she said, rasing her
eyebrow and forgetting that he was practically on top of her. In
this conversation, she had all the advantages.
"Oh great. My secret's out then. I hope it wasn't too horrible?"
She wavered, uncertain of whether he was playing with her or
serious.
"Horrible?"
"Yes, it's quite ... well, almost wretched."
"Wretched?"
His grin was wider than hers and suddenly she realized she was on
the couch with a much larger man leaning over her, a man with a
wretched, horrible secret.
"Well, maybe if you tell me, I can tell you if that's it," she
said smoothly.
"Oh no. If you knew ... well, you'd know."
She felt the double meaning coming back into their conversation,
so that it was half banter, half absolute truth. She was suddenly
suspicious.
"You're fooling around."
He sighed, martyr-like. "I wish, but I don't have the time to go
out and meet women. Oh, and also, I have a wife. She'd be kind of
upset."
She smiled again and slapped his arm. "No, I mean you're messing
with me."
Mock seriousness tinged his face. Was some of it real seriousness?
"No, I swear I'm not."
"So what is it?"
"I thought you claimed I said revealing things in my sleep."
Her eyebrow arched. "Oh, you do. Some of those idle fantasies of
yours are even recurring."
A bit of a panicked look came into his eyes. "Which ones?"
"Oh, I hear my name a lot," she said, more pleased by it than
she'd ever admit.
A little growl emerged from his throat. "And you love it. You know
you do."
She simply looked at him. "So what's your horrible secret?"
"Oh, just that I'm in love with this woman hopelessly but she
doesn't seem to know."
A kind of flutter choked up her throat. "Oh?"
"Yes. Terribly in love. But she's kind of stubborn. Kind of ...
I don't know, anal retentive."
Her mouth dropped open, prepared to utter curses in his direction
about the use of anal retentive, but he stopped her by kissing
her.
"Do you think she knows?" he said softly.
That same underlying seriousness had come back and she thought
for a moment, her thumbs playing against his ribs.
"I think she knows," she said softly. "And I think she loves you,
too."
"Really?"
"Mm-hm. Terribly."
His lips were sliding up, meeting her skin.
"That's good." he replied and pushed her back further along the
futon couch.
She relaxed and ignored the outside world, ignored all the things
that had been bringing her down.
"That's good, 'cause she's been kind of sad lately," he murmured.
She nodded. "But when you tell her you love her, it makes her feel
better."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really."
The couch was small but he managed to position them on it. Her
head rested just below his chin and he played with her hair.
"We should go dancing, Scully," he murmured.
"Dancing?"
"Yeah. Ballroom dancing, you would love it."
She fell silent.
"Tonight, okay?" he murmured.
"Sure," she said, suddenly feeling excited. "Someplace nice?"
"Yes. Just you and me. We'll make it a date."
She laughed. "How about not? Just, us going together."
He was confused. "Why?"
She smiled again at him through her eye lashes. "Because when I
was in ninth grade, my Dad made me promise not to ever go to bed
with a man on the first date."
He laughed. "That's pretty silly."
"A girl I knew had gotten pregnant. My Dad wasn't an idiot," she
said smiling at him.
"Okay, not a date. Just us. We're a little old for dating anyway."
She slapped his arm. "Speak for yourself, old man."
He chuckled and shifted against her.
For a few minutes they lay there, thinking of nothing and doing
nothing but feeling.
Then she got up to turn on the dishwasher and Mulder got up to
fold laundry and things were happening again.
He still had the feeling she was not telling him something.
===========
Exodus
Chapter Eight
===========
Her hands were nervously tapping the wheel of the truck, drumming
to a beat that existed only in her head.
It was three o'clock in Friday rush hour traffic and it was taking
forever to get to her block.
The package from the drug store shifted in the breeze of cold air
coming from the vents and reminded her again of why she was
getting off work early.
The pregnancy test.
Mulder had confronted her Thursday morning, angry because she'd
been throwing up for the past week and hiding it from him. She
still had not told him what she suspected because she knew what
he would say. It was all in her head, she was probably getting
the flu, it wasn't possible. Those were some of the bigger things
that plagued her.
Mulder had made her promise to go to the doctor, find out what was
wrong. She had promised, quietly telling herself she would have to
go to the doctor if it turned out she was pregnant.
Her fingers rapped the steering wheel again and she turned into
the parking garage nest to their building, hanging the parking
pass from her rear view mirror as she pulled into her space.
She slid out of the truck and quickly made her way down the
sidewalk, the grocery sack a reminder of everything that could
change.
===========
Libby liked going to Mrs. Shawl's after school and the way her
apartment smelled like a grandmother.
When Mrs. Shawl picked her up at twelve, they went to the Ice
Cream Shoppe on 87th Street and she got Pink Bubblegum every time
while Mrs. Shawl had a sundae.
Then Mrs. Shawl would let her choose. Either the piano or a story.
Libby was torn between the two. Her stories were about the time
during World War II when she was only eight years old and how they
had to ration things, but the piano made noises that turned into
songs and Libby was very good at it.
That day, Libby picked a story. Mrs. Shawl talked about the time
she was eight years old and her baby sister was born while her
Daddy was over in the war helping heal people who had been shot.
After the story was over, Libby looked up at Mrs. Shawl.
"I have a sister too." she said.
Mrs. Shawl knew that the Williams only had one child. "Oh?" she
said, realizing it was probably a pretend friend.
"Yes, she hasn't been born yet. She's in Mommy's stomach just like
your sister was in your Mommy's stomach." she said, nodding
wisely.
"Oh, isn't that wonderful." she replied, trying to remember if
Kate Williams had looked pregnant.
Libby nodded and got off Mrs. Shawl's lap and turned to her school
bag, her mind wandering to a completely new topic.
"Look! I made this for you!" she proclaimed and pulled out a huge
painting done in hand prints.
"Oh, it's beautiful, Libby. Thank you very much. Let's go hang it
on the fridge."
They were standing back and admiring it when Mrs. Shawl's doorbell
rang and the tiny dog barked from the living room.
Libby ran ahead and waited patiently for Mrs. Shawl to open the
door.
"Mrs. Williams!" Mrs. Shawl exclaimed. "Is everything all right?"
Usually Mr. Williams came and picked Libby up at about five.
Kate looked hastled and anxious. "Oh, yeah. I got off early. I'm
sorry, I thought M- ah, Matt told you."
"No, Mr. Williams didn't tell me. Would you like to come in and
get some cookies or milk?"
"Oh, no, thank you Mrs. Shawl. I appreciate it though. I think I'm
just going to go on upstairs. Come on, Libby."
Libby darted back inside for her book bag and then slipped out to
the hallway with her mother, blowing a kiss to Mrs. Shawl.
"Wow, Mommy. You got home early." she heard Libby say as they
walked away.
Shutting the door, Mrs. Shawl realized that Kate Williams didn't
look pregnant at all.
===========
Libby was watching her videos again, her body sprawled along the
couch as the cartoon characters spelled out the alphabet and made
up silly songs to go with it.
Scully was shaking.
Five more minutes before she'd know.
Dinner was ready to be made, leftover chicken thawed out in the
microwave, dessert already in the fridge, and bread warming in the
oven.
She had nothing more to do but wait.
It was driving her crazy.
She began picking up the room, rearranging the way her closet
hung, putting up some of the clean clothes left on the bed after
laundry had been done.
She was tense, ready to snap. Her nerves were sending a million
messages to her brain and none got through.
She twisted the bedspread in her fingers and managed to keep her
stomach from revolting. Knots formed in her instestines and in the
bed cover.
Finally, finally, the little egg timer went off.
She licked her dry lips and stared at the door to the bathroom.
She forced herself to go over and open the door and take the
little stick in her hands.
She looked at it.
===========
Mulder got home later than usual and found the living room dark,
illuminated only by the television's flickering. The sound was
soft like white noise and it had lulled Libby to sleep.
He walked over to her and kissed her forehead but she did not
stir. Her arms were curled in tightly at her sides and her left
leg hung off the side. He smiled and brushed back her hair, then
pulled a blanket over her.
He wondered where Scully was.
The kitchen was empty and a cold dish of last night's chicken was
left in the microwave, burned bread was stinking up the oven, and
the windows were all shuttered over.
He frowned and moved to their back bedroom, feeling a slight pang
of urgency overtake him.
Scully was asleep on the bed, her hair masking her face and head
in her arms. Her body was curled up tightly into the fetal
position and buried into the pillows.
This room too was dark and in shadows, the only light coming from
the half open window blinds. His shoes slipped off and his tie was
flung in the general direction of the closet and he sank
gratefully into the cool softness of their bed.
Stretching out full length, he closed his eyes.
He felt her shift and he body flowed around his until her burning
heat was balled up against his side. He wondered if she had gone
to see a doctor; it felt as if she had a fever.
"Scully? Wake up for a minute."
He eyes flickered and he saw they were bloodshot, redrimmed, and
glassy.
"Are you okay?" he whispered., his face crinkling in worry.
She nodded.
"What did the doctor say?"
"I didn't, uh, get a chance to get in." she said, smoothing over
the rough edges of the truth.
"Oh. You feel feverish."
She nodded and her eyes closed again, as if it took too much
energy to try and focus. "I'm going tomorrow, definitely," she
murmured.
"Good."
He pulled out from her and got up, heading for the bathroom,
feeling grimy and disgusting after work.
Scully could feel something prick at her but she couldn't remember
what was so important, why her brain was rushing around trying to
warn her.
And then he exploded.
"Scully! What the hell is this!"
She jerked straight up with a violence that made her head throb
and as he came out of the bathroom, she remembered.
The test.
Her body slumped to the wall behind the bed and she shook her
head. "Nothing. Nothing," she whispered.
"Like hell it's nothing. What's going on?"
He had an idea what it was for, but he didn't know how to read it,
and he wasn't sure what it meant.
"I'm going to the doctor, tomorrow, Mulder. I'm sick," she said,
eyes closing.
The defeated look was back on her face and he shivered.
Then things came together for him.
Throwing up every morning. Her stomach hurting, the words spoken
to them by the pin stripe suit man that she had believed was an
angel.
"Scully, are you ..."
"No," she whispered. "No."
His heart at one broke and crumbled for her. She was ravaged by
this, destroyed by some kind of hope she had placed in this. It
was the reason she'd been acting strangely, and now, the reason
for her indifference.
"Oh, God, Scully, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
He crawled across the bed to her and pulled her tightly to his
chest. They both knew she could not have children, but she had
always held out on miracles.
She stayed stiff in his arms and would not cry.
"I'm sorry," he said again and kissed her hairline with as much
tenderness as he could.
She nodded and turned away from him and closed her eyes.
He felt the world crashing down around him.
===========
Exodus
Chapter Nine
===========
"Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat
Sighing through all her works gave signs of woe,
That all was lost."
--Book IX of "Paradise Lost," John Milton
===========
"Mulder, really, I'm fine." she said and pushed him out of the
way.
Dana finished mixing the ingredients together in the bowl and
dumped it into a pan, then coated the chicken with the reddish
brown soup.
"I ... I just wanted to know," he said softly.
"The doctor said it was a cold, probably brought on by stress
because that lowers your immune systems response."
"Okay," he said and nodded as if this was a very serious matter.
She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "I'm okay, Mulder. It was
just a little thought I had. Nothing important."
He regarded her carefully and noticed the worn look on her face,
the hidden lines around her eyes and mouth. Once, they'd been
laugh lines, but now, they were age and hard living.
He sighed. He didn't think it was over at all.
===========
Dinner was chicken again and Libby was getting cranky because they
had chicken every night.
"Can't we have macaroni and cheese sometime?" she whined.
She saw her mother's jaw work under the skin and she shut up very
quickly.
"All right, Libby. But eat your dinner now," her mother said.
Libby nodded and shoved some peas into her mouth, trying not to
gag because peas had to be the nastiest vegetable on earth.
"Libby, don't choke yourself, baby. Drink milk and mix your mashed
potatoes with your peas." Daddy winked at her and she smiled and
tried his suggestion.
Surprise lit her face. "They don't taste bad anymore!" she said.
Scully's face went dark and she dug her nails into her palms to
keep from exploding. It wasn't Libby's fault, she knew that. She
was just in a depressed and angry mood.
When dinner was finally over, Mulder stood and placed the plates
in the sink, telling Libby to go and do her homework, and
promising Scully he would do the dishes.
She sighed and kissed him thanks and made her escape.
===========
San Francisco at night was pure energy and relief.
She walked aimlessly down the streets, around blocks, up and down
Pine Street and California and Nob Hill, trying to sort through
all the emotions raging in her.
The air was stiff and it bit into her but her sweatshirt kept her
warm enough to let her walk around and not really notice the wind.
She stopped when she got to Chinatown and ambled through the carts
and street shops and vendors, looking at everything they offered
yet not seeing any of it.
She had wanted another child.
She realized the futility of this now. She could not have
children; she knew that. She had brought the bitter disappointment
on herself, thinking, hoping, wishing that for some reason, God
had given her a baby.
She believed in miracles. She beleived God had saved them in New
York. But it was a bad idea to bring another child into their
already messed up world. It was cruel to even think ...
She had wanted a little boy. She had even begun imagining Mulder's
face when she told him, begun thinking of names that would fit.
She had fooled herself into thinking that they could be real if
she had a child.
She knew this wasn't right. It wasn't even healthy.
They were real, simply because they wanted it to be real.
But like the Velveteen Rabbit, whose Boy had said he was Real,
they were still not *truly* Real. In that story though, a Fairy
had made the bunny Real when he had gotten thrown in the trash.
There were no fairies in this story.
Dana sighed and walked through a shop, watching the fan hum
overhead, the tourists line up at the cash registers for T-shirts
that were selling for five for three dollars and would end up in
the rag pile.
She fingered a silk mock-up of a native Chinese dress and then ran
her hand down its pale blue front. It shifted and caught the light
and seemed to gleam.
A hand caught hers.
She whirled around, panic screaming through her body as she
tensed to run.
"Scully."
She relaxed into Mulder and sighed. "What are you doing here,
Mulder? How'd you find me?"
"I left Libby with Mrs. Shawl. She's okay. Let's walk."
He took her hand and threaded them through the customers and out
into the fading light.
He took a deep breath of the air, smelling the street and the
bodies and the distinct aroma of food.
"Let's stop and get some dessert," he said and led her to a small
building proclaiming its egg rolls.
As they sat in a booth and got comfortable, she stared at him.
"Did you follow me?"
"No." His reply rang truthfully and she blinked.
"How'd you --"
"I just kind of knew," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"I just started walking and ended up in Chinatown and I remembered
how you loved coming here to shop, so ... "
"And you found me anyway?" She shook her head. Chinatown was huge.
It had to be near impossible to find someone in such a place.
"I could find you anywhere, Scully."
She could tell he was honest; no jokes this time.
She sighed and took his hand. "Mulder, I appreciate this, but I
just need some time to kind of walk around, you know. Be alone for
awhile."
"You've been wandering for two hours Scully," he said softly.
She raised her eyebrow and glanced at her watch.
"Look," he said. "Let's just shop around. I've got some money on
me and we can get Libby a little present. We can buy you
something."
She shook her head. "Mulder, we really can't afford --"
"Shh. We can. Just go with it." He gave her a grin that made her
insides curl and she realized just how much he meant to her.
It made her feel wonderful that he had come after her.
"Mulder ..."
"Hmm?" His brows raised and he cocked his head, giving her his
full attention.
For the first time, she noticed that the passion she had always
seen in his eyes when he talked about the X-Files was now focused
directly - on - her.
She shivered.
"I'm going to be okay, Mulder."
The relief cascaded down his face like a dam releasing, and his
eyes closed briefly.
"I believe you, Scully," he murmured.
The egg rolls came and they ate silently, studying their thoughts
and becoming comfortable with their revelations.
When they were finished he paid and took her hand, then led them
out to the street again.
A street cart appeared almost before them and hanging from its
hard carved wooden pegs were necklaces and coin purses and an
assortment of things.
He stopped and pulled her to it, squeezing her hand tightly when
she tried to protest.
He rummaged through the things on the bottom under the watchful
eye of an old woman with yellow teeth and a heavy wool Indian
blanket covering her shoulders. His fingers finally caught on
something and he pulled it up, then handed it to Scully.
It was a ring made of fine thin red-gold, its shape molded by
hands and fire and matching her intensely.
He watched as she admired it. Small etchings decorated the band
and it caught in the dim light of the street vendors. She flashed
it and he grabbed it as she smiled.
He slid it on her ring finger; it snuggled up next to her wedding
ring and stayed there.
He paid the woman and skirted through the crowds with Scully
following behind him. When they reached Fisherman's Wharf, he
guided her to the docks and pushed her to the benches.
She eyed him as he sank to his knees on the ground, sitting up a
bit as curious looks were tossed their way.
"Dana ... Scully. I want you to truly be my wife. Forever. This
ring -- that's what it stands for now. Our real union."
She bit her cheek to keep the ridiculous tears from falling and
pulled him up on the bench with her.
"Your making everyone stare at us," she hissed.
He smiled and kissed her suddenly, his mouth urgently taking hers.
"You're so cute, you know that?" he said, smirking.
She squeezed his leg and leaned into him. "You're a good friend,
you know that, Mulder?"
"Friend? That it?"
She rolled her eyes. "I would say lover but that would be getting into
some grey areas."
"I'm not a good lover?" He looked wounded.
"Oh, well ..." She gave him a teasing look.
"Oh, I am and you know it," he said and poked her.
"Okay, okay. I'll admit it. That too."
"Good, cause you're the only one I would let be my lover, you
know."
"Oh really?" she said, her eyebrow arching.
"Really. You wouldn't know by looking at you, but your small
little body is pretty incredible."
He laughed as she blushed and kissed her lips again. "So, want to
head home?"
She pulled him up. "Nah. Let's just walk around some more. Who
knows? I may get some more compliments out here."
"I just better be the one doing the complimenting," he growled and
led her back into Chinatown.
She smiled.
So maybe they didn't have fairies to make things Real, but if they
believed they were, then that was good enough.
He sighed at her smile.
She was home again.
===============
The Emilys
On the Way Home
===============
I tuck another strand of faded blonde hair behind my ear, then check
my mirrors before switching to the right hand lane. My blinker clicks
on and then off and I'm smoothly navigating through traffic before I
even realize I left the church parking lot.
My skirt is hitched around my knees so that I could climb into the
big blue truck, my baby, and it makes for great air conditioning
after the interior is baked from sitting out in the sun for three
hours.
The day is dazzling, I feel good finally about the things happening
in my life, and I maybe know where I'm headed after these three years
of college.
Maybe.
I thought I wanted to be a social worker, or maybe a case worker,
something where you had to comfort people, be there for them.
It sounded just like the ideal for me.
I sigh and try to forget about it.
Much like Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind," (a movie I personally
have never seen and never want to see), I always put off what I don't
want to even think about until tomorrow.
It's not that I procrastinate, it's just that I tend to worry over
much about everything. I've found the best way not to get an ulcer
is not to worry.
Not to think.
Just enjoy that wonderful California sunshine, unmercifully hot
though it may be.
Whatever happened to that infamous bay breeze that always used to
cool us off?
The green grows stale and switches, and I slow the truck down, coming
to a halt at the stoplight.
On the left, I immediately notice the wonderful blue truck coming
down the street perpindicular to mine, Hallowel, and the beautiful
rugged look it has. I have this thing for trucks.
It's cutting through traffic, in the right lane, a woman at the wheel
with a faded look of sadness.
Why's she so sad if she's driving such a wonderful --
Oh my God.
It's an immediate prayer as the truck swerves, fishtails out of the
way as an idiot tries turning left in front of the woman in blue.
She swings across the intersection, going remarkably slow for such a
thing, my mind giving me simple flashes as I try to process.
I have never seen an accident, not right in front of me like this.
Not heading straight for me.
Running straight, straight, oh God, don't let her hit me --
My body slams hard into the seatbelt, knocking around my insides good
and hard.
And then silence.
I hear the roaring of my blood.
The panic of my heart.
The slow trickle of traffic starting up again.
I lift my eyes, feel breath explode from me.
The beautiful truck managed to just skim my front bumper.
She hit the curb, jumped it, and ran smack into an old, concrete wall
constructed for privacy.
She's not moving, even I can see that through the windshield.
Shaky legs push me from the truck, sliding to the pavement without
collapsing, but only barely.
The car that turned left in front of her is no where to be seen.
I take a breath, pressing my fists to my face to steel myself.
She could be bleeding.
She could be dead.
Oh God, let her be okay.
I use the hood of the truck to steady me as I make my way to her
door, gulping back hot saliva and the urge to throw-up all on the
street.
I hear crying inside the truck and it makes me stop short.
A little girl.
There's a little girl in there.
I don't have any energy or strength, my adrenaline maxed out when I
pushed myself from the truck, but somehow, I manage to run to the
truck.
I see a tangled mess of hair and blood at first and the vomit rises
in me, but I shove it down hard, swallowing acid.
I see a little girl in the front passenger seat, her eyes red from
crying, her beautifully blonde hair wet with tears and sweat.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Your Mommy's going to be just fine, okay?"
She looks up at me with such abject fear that I step back, stunned.
I hear a slight moan from the woman, whose head is lolled back in the
seat, her mouth parted slightly, and red hair framing her face
disheveledly.
"Ma'am, please don't try to move. Do you have a cell phone where I
can call an ambulance?"
She looks young, older than me, but still maybe thirty or so. Young
to have such fear in her eyes looking back at me.
"You're going to be okay-"
"I'm a ... a ... doctor." she murmurs.
"Okay, okay. I need to call the paramedics. Do you have a phone?"
I can't believe that's my ultra-calm voice coming out.
She nods and winces, her face already purple and bruised.
"Okay, let me get it. I don't want your little girl to move around
much either."
Her hand raises, fumbles with something.
I run around to the side, pull open the back door of the truck; she's
got one of those four door things that have a surprising amount of
room.
I see her hands clutching a bag, and gently I take it from her.
She makes a muffled noise that sounds like she's going into shock and
I paw through the black bag until I find her phone.
It takes me a moment to figure out how to place the call, but it
lights up and I'm connected to the 911 operator and I feel immensely
better.
Little hands clutch at me, and I take one, holding to the daughter
tightly as I explain what happened.
It's oddly quiet and the little girl reaches out and unstraps her
seatbelt.
"No! Wait!"
But she's already slithering down to the floor, then touching her
mother, tears sharp and fresh in her eyes.
The woman knows she's not supposed to move, knows her daughter
shouldn't be either, and casts panicked eyes to me, seeking help.
"Come here, darling. Let's lie down back here really still, all
right?"
The girl buries her head into her mother's lap and stays there,
eyeing me.
"Trust her, baby."
I hear her words like soft silk and I reach a hand, palm out, to her
daughter's shaking body.
"My name's Ashley. What's yours?"
She shakes a bit and then whispers, making me duck down closer to her
to hear.
"Libby."
"Hey, Libby. I bet you're scared right now, huh? That's okay to be
afraid. It's a little scary to have an accident. But you're going to
be just fine and so's your momma. Okay?"
She doesn't nod or shake her head or even cry, just looks at me, her
hands circling her mother's waist and head digging deeper into her
stomach.
I look to the woman. "Is there someone I need to call?"
"Mul- ... My husband."
I nod. "Here, I'll call. Explain things. You want to tell me the
number?"
She looks hesitant, as if she's spent a lifetime not trusting anyone.
"Look. You're going to need him. But if you don't want to call him,
I'll look after Libby."
"No, no. Not that."
She sighs, runs her fingers along her little girl's face.
Then she rattles off the San Francisco number and I punch it in as
fast as possible.
I whisper as the phone rings. "What's his name? Yours too?"
She glances to her daughter, then closes her eyes as if thinking.
"Mulder. I'm Dana."
Mulder? Odd name.
The phone is picked up at the other end and a warm voice answers.
"Uh ... hello?"
"Who's this?!"
Man, these guys are nervous as anything.
"Uh, my name's Ashley Wilkes. Are you Mulder?"
He hisses in his breath and I see Dana close her eyes with something
akin to regret.
"Sir, your wife was in an accident --"
"What! Where is she? What happened? Is Libby --"
"Sir. They're both right here. We're waiting for the ambulance. I --"
"Give me the location. I'm coming right now."
I sigh and look to the woman, knowing and understanding why she'd
been reluctant to call him.
He's a little hyper about their health and safety, to put it mildly.
I give him the address and he sighs. "That's right by the church,
right?"
I affirm that and he hangs up.
"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes closing again.
"Yeah. But don't fall asleep, okay? I need for you to stay awake."
I realize she's probably going into shock; I glance around for a
blanket.
There's a towel in the floor, and hastily, I shake it out.
I pull it around her, rubbing her arms to keep her warm as she
shivers.
"Libby, you want to help me look out for your Daddy and the
ambulance?"
Libby looks up to her mother with a solemn face, and recieves a nod
of encouragement and a brave smile.
The girl reluctantly lets me lead her out of the truck and into the
sunlight.
Our emergency lights are both on and I can hear the ambulance
rounding the corner even as Libby scuffs her shoe on the sidewalk.
It pulls up and a man comes walking up, official looking, and tired
too.
He checks Libby and me out, giving us a thorough once over, then
turns to the truck as I explain.
He motions to the driver of the ambulance and it pulls up close to
their blue truck.
I hear another siren and this time, the traffic cop shows up and I'm
distracted from the ambulance by the woman coming up to me with the
first friendly smile I've seen.
It makes me feel a lot more calm.
As I detail the accident and fish out my driver's license, then run
back to their truck for Dana's, I miss the details of the ambulance,
but soon I realize that the little girl is bawling and getting shoved
aside.
I run to her and scoop her up, letting her see over the paramedics'
towering forms to the face of her mother.
"Baby ... all right. Daddy will be here."
She mumbles something else and then gets pushed into the back of the
ambulance. I see IV's running into her arm, and it kind of scares me.
Libby holds to me tightly, evidently trusting that her mother would
only leaver her in good hands, and therefore, I have quickly become
her only ally.
I finish filling out the accident report, noticing that it looks
oddly like the fliers we handed out at church announcing special
events.
Cheap photocopies that are a silent testament to just how often this
happens.
The woman sheriff comes up to me again, takes the report and then
drills me for any kind of possible clue.
"I think I might have the license number, or part of it."
"Do you know the make?"
"Oh yeah. Crown Victoria. Navy blue, real rich. I always notice blue
cars."
"Just blue?"
I blush and shift Libby around on my hip. "I like blue."
She nods, glances over at my dusky grey truck, then the wonderful
blue truck that Dana and Libby were in.
"So that's how come you noticed the truck too right?"
"Yeah. The license for that car was something like QXJ. I'm
definitely sure it had those letters, I'm just fuzzy on the order."
She nods, writes it down, then looks up again.
"When the husband gets here, you'll be able to go."
I shrug. "I think I might go down to the hospital, see how she's
doing. Do you know what hospital?"
"St. Francis. It's closest."
I wonder how long it will take for the man to get here.
"Libby, what kind of car does your Daddy drive so we can look out for
it?"
"He doesn't have a car."
I raise an eyebrow and look to the officer. "I guess I might be
giving them a ride there."
She shrugs. "If that's what it takes."
The woman leaves, walks to her patrol car, and begins writing up her
report.
I sink to the curb, tired from holding Libby, but not wanting to let her
go either.
She begins to cry again, soft little tears that dig into me.
"It's okay darlin', it's okay. Your momma's all right and your Daddy
will be here as soon as he can."
She sits back in my arms, head tucked under my chin.
Her hair is soft and blonde like corn silk, her eyes large and an
almost grey, almost blue color that ricochets off my heart.
"It'll be okay."
==========
The man comes running, his mouth open and wide for breath, jogging
pants and a grey tight T-shirt on that shows off his chest and biceps
very well.
Libby's asleep in my truck, her head resting on the door.
I know it's Mulder, simply by the shake in him as he slows.
"My wife? Is she here?"
"She's gone on to the hospital. I have Libby here with me and the
sheriff is still here too. I can give you a ride, sir."
He glances to me, stiffening.
I want to scream at them that I'm freaking all right; I'm not out to
get them.
"Look, trust me. Your wife did. I'll give you a ride. Libby's asleep
in my truck."
He glances up, pants a bit, then leans over and puts his hands on his
knees. His face goes pale and he turns from me, running to the lawn
we stand in front of and vomiting hard.
I see him wipe his mouth on his soaked shirt, and I realize he ran
the entire way here. Hard, non-stop.
That's dedication.
Or blind fear.
He's got to be ready to drop.
I walk over to him, take his arm as he raises up.
He glances at me with confusion.
"Look, I want to help."
After a moment, he follows me to the truck, getting in and placing
Libby in his lap.
I want to tell him that's a dangerous place for her to be, but I shut up
and start to drive.
==========
I hate hospitals.
With an intense passion that makes me wonder what exactly happened to
me as a child that makes me detest them so much.
It could have been the time I ran into the doorframe at the age of
three and had to wait in the emergency room for an hour while my head
continued to bleed and my mother panicked and my father swore
nervously.
It could be that.
Or maybe even the time my mom got cancer when I was six, and we had
to come up every day, every long hard day, and watch as she smiled
thin ghost smiles and pretended she'd be all right, when all she
really did was end up dying.
I bet it was more of that.
But being here now, it doesn't hold the same kind of hatred.
More of a fear.
I like these people. As odd and crazy and paranoid as they are,
they're fun.
Libby is a doll, her father is gorgeous, and her mother is calmly
reassuring.
It's been three hours since the accident, three hours since Mulder
came running up, shaking, throwing up into the yard, and then asking
nothing as we squealed into the parking lot of St. Francis.
Libby stays in his lap, and he stays right there in the chair.
Me ... well, I'm going crazy with worry.
Doesn't he even care? He's sitting there, not drawing any attention
to himself, not even looking at people, not letting Libby even whine
or complain at all, and it's like he wants it that way.
Like he's hiding from something.
Well, I'm going to see how she is, even if he doesn't care.
Which is unfair, because I can clearly see how much he does care.
The doctor is just inside those doors; I bet I could sneak in and ask
her.
It's a cinch. Mulder's eyes widen as he watches me and he
emphatically shakes his head, but I shrug him off and slip inside.
The doctor glances up at me immediately, frowning.
"Hold on. I've been out there waiting for two hours. I'd like
someone to tell me something about her."
"Who?"
"Dana ... uh, Mulder?"
The doctor frowns, looks at me strangely.
"There are no patients by that name here."
I gape at her. "You're her doctor!"
"I'm sorry miss. I don't have --"
She's cut off as Mulder barrels through the doors, knocking into me
and grabbing my arm with a fierceness that makes me wince.
Mulder shakes his head. "I'm sorry Dr. Whitfield. This won't happen
again."
"It's all right. I can tell she's worried about her mother."
Mulder says nothing, lets the woman think he's my father, and yanks
me back outside.
"Do not ask for her by name! Do not call her by name. Understand me?"
I glare at him. "No."
It's sass and he's not used to it from a college kid, but I don't
really care at this point.
He guides me to the chair where he left Libby, then sits me down
forcefully.
"She told you her name ... I guess she wasn't thinking, or maybe she
wanted to get my attention. Let me know it was for real."
"What was for real? Why can't I ask for her by name?"
He shakes his head, runs long fingers through thick, sleepy looking
hair.
"You better tell me a good reason why you hauled me out of there like
I was a child!"
"Because that's not our names anymore."
I stare at him with an open mouth, shock filtering into my features.
"Oh my gosh. What are you telling me? Are you running from the law?"
He shakes his head, eyes darting around quickly. "We're, ah, in the
witness protection program."
The look on his face, combined with the way his eyes seem to not be
able to follow mine, makes me think not.
"Yeah right. What'd you really do? Hold up a bank, firebomb a
building in the sixties?"
He glares at me. "We were born in the sixties, child."
I blush. "Sorry."
He shakes his head. "I hope I don't look that old."
I look once again to his nicely fit body. No ... not so old at all.
"We really are in hiding for protection, Ashley. That's not a joke.
It's life and death. There are people who want us dead, want us dead
if only because of what we have."
His eyes slide to Libby then back, clearly indicating what it is they
have that will cause them their deaths if caught.
Only he can't very well say it around her.
"So what's your names? Names I can use?"
"Kate and Chris Williams."
"Still Libby?"
He nods, a small smile coming to his face. "Yeah. Look. It's evident
I have to trust you. She kind of forced me into it, telling you our
names. But let me tell you this, if something happens, if we're even
recognized over here, followed or --"
I stare at him, my anger rising.
"Are you threatening me? Is that what you're doing? That's
ridiculous. This is America, you idiot. If you so much as touch me,
I'll have you thrown in jail."
Libby's eyes are huge, her face shocked and horrified. I grimace and
lower my voice.
"You've got to be kidding me, thinking that kind of cloak and dagger
stuff can be used here. You're nuts."
He shakes his head. "No. If you've seen what we've seen, you wouldn't
think so. It happens every day, all the time. And they keep getting
away with it."
I want to not believe him; I want to forget what he's telling me, go
back to my safe world where the only thing of immediate fear is what
I'm going to major in this semester.
But I can't.
His words have forever plunged me into something else. I decide to go
another way with him.
"I swear. Whatever happens. I won't say a word. Even if it turns out
that you've actually murdered someone."
He slumps in relief.
"Mind you, not because I like you or anything. Only because I like
your little girl and your wife."
He grins at me, sees the humor I'm trying to rally myself with.
"Of course."
I shake his hand.
"Let's go see D ... ah, Kate, okay?"
==========
She looks pretty good to me, smiling and laughing and holding her
little girl tightly.
Just a sprain in her neck, no broken bones thank goodness.
She'll have to stay for the night, to make sure, but she's looking
good and acting impatient to get out of this place.
I wonder if she's got the same bad memories, of cancer and blood and
waiting too long.
I should leave now.
"Hey, Ashley?"
I look back from the doorway, where I had tried to make a hasty exit.
"Do you baby-sit?"
I smile. "No. But I will if you need me to."
She smiles. "Maybe sometime. Thanks for everything."
I want to say that I'll see them again, that I'll keep in touch, look
out for Libby sometime.
But I have college in a few weeks, and they really look like they
don't need anything else to hang over their heads.
"If you get a note from me later, blackmailing you, it means I've
flunked out of college and I'm broke, so just ignore my quiet
desperation."
Mulder chuckles softly, looking over to his wife again.
Then his face turns serious and he glances to me. "I really
appreciate your understanding."
I can't stand this. Too much emotion, too much potency here.
"I still don't understand. But if I see on television where you're
actually on the run for murder, I'll be pretty pissed."
His face sort of pales. "I wouldn't be surprised if they did try
something like that."
The way he says it, I just know.
He's no murderer, no ex-con out to get revenge or something. He's a
guy with a family, with a little girl who's in trouble and he's
trying to keep her safe.
I shake my head. "Whatever. Don't attract too much attention to
yourself."
Saying this, I leave.
Walking from the door, back into the smells of Vaseline Intensive
Care Lotion and bedsores, mixed with Clorox Bleach and antiseptic, I
feel somehow chained up.
It's a hellish smell, and it's poignant, and I'm in a hurry to get
out of here.
Out of the memories, and out of their little dangerous world.
I'm amazed they're still sane, still able to laugh at all.
I sincerely hope I never run into them again.
Literally.
====================
==========
The Emilys
Surprise
==========
"For nothing is impossible through God." -- Luke 1:37
==========
Scully watched the line inch forward at McDonalds' drive-thru, hating
the city crowds and prices that the fast food attracted.
But today she took Libby to McDonalds, sort of like treating her for
all the times she had been gone.
She'd been gone a lot. Working nine at night to five in the morning
was agony on her system, and on her family.
She got home, slept for another two hours until Mulder got Libby up,
said good-bye to them all, then fell back into bed until about four
in the afternoon. Most times five.
Today she took Libby to McDonalds for supper, then she'd have to get
ready for work.
Creeping forward to the order window, Scully rattled off the various
meals her family wanted, making sure the woman got it right before
accepting the total price.
McDonalds was making a fortune.
==========
"So, did you get the apple pies?"
Scully dropped the bags onto the table and sighed. "Forgot."
"S'okay." Mulder replied and moved to grab his dinner. "Just glad I
got food."
It was a joke, but it hurt. She just didn't have the energy to make
dinner with the hours she worked. And Mulder tried, but he was no
chef.
They moved into the living room, spreading the wrappers on the floor
as placemats and using the television stand as a coaster.
The TV flicked on and Mulder began flipping through the channels,
stopping for mere seconds at each until they got to Libby's favorite
show on Nickelodeon, Kablam.
It was fairly amusing and they didn't mind watching it all together,
so they sat down to enjoy the antics of the cynical SuperHeroes and
everyone else.
Mulder finished his two cheeseburgers and got up to throw the paper
away, grabbing everyone else's trash as he went.
Scully leaned back into the futon and closed her eyes, surprised to
feel even more tired than usual.
Mulder came back in the room and reclaimed his spot, then slid closer
to her and wrapped his arms around her.
Sighing, she let her head fall into his lap and close her eyes.
==========
A noise startled her and she woke suddenly.
Mulder was still holding her and she found he was saying her name.
"You've got to get ready for work in a few minutes."
"What time is it?"
"Eight."
She nodded and yawned loudly, glancing around at the darkened
apartment.
"Where's Libby?"
"In her room, playing with GI Joes."
Scully laughed and shook her head. "What's she really playing with?"
"What else? Madeline."
Scully pulled herself up from his arms and kissed his cheek. "Libby's
not at all a tomboy. Quit trying to make her one."
"Weren't you a tomboy?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, but I had two brothers and a sister that
never had any interest in girly things."
"Aw, poor baby. What a sad story."
She poked his side and stood up. "Help me change?"
"You only have a few minutes ..." he warned, raising his eyes
suggestively.
"That's all we need."
==========
When she crawled into bed that morning, her stomach was fluttering
anxiously and she wanted to simply fall asleep next to the toilet,
she felt so bad.
Mulder moved and opened an eye.
"You okay?" he whispered, pulling her into his arms.
She shivered. "I think I'm getting sick."
He nodded and kissed her hot forehead with his cool lips, then ran
his fingers down her arms.
She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her body respond to his
touch.
He chuckled and brought his lips to hers.
"You still awake?"
"Yes."
"Sleepy at all?"
She smiled in the dark. "Nope."
"Me neither. Are you all that sick?"
She wound her fingers through his. "Not that much."
In the darkness, with the early morning birds just starting to sing,
Mulder reached for her, drawing her body up into him.
==========
Libby bounded into the living room, holding up her artwork and
running to the fridge in a blur.
A crash sounded and everything stopped dead.
Scully looked up from the dishes she was washing and glanced to
Libby.
The little girl was open mouthed.
"Sorry!"
A broken glass and vase laid in the floor, in shambles of glittering
pieces.
Scully sighed and dried her hands off. "Baby, I told you not to run
when you got in after school, didn't I?"
"Sorry ..."
"Didn't I?"
"Yes," she whispered, looking to the ground.
"So why were you running?"
"I ... I wanted to show you this."
Libby made a move to step closer.
"NO!"
Libby began to cry and Scully gingerly stepped over the broken glass
and picked her up.
"Sorry, Libby. You have on bare feet. I didn't want you to cut
yourself. Show me your picture now, okay?"
Libby nodded and wiped at her eyes, holding up her finger painting.
Scully saw the paint and felt the blood drain from her body.
"What is this?" she said softly, fingering the paper.
"I saw him today."
Scully swallowed her rising panic and set Libby down in the floor,
holding the picture carefully.
"Where did you see him?"
"I saw him all day. He walked home with me. Well not with me, just on
the other side of the street. He waved."
Libby bounded off to her room and left Scully standing there, the
little girl's rendition of a man in a suit, with angel wings on his
back and a smile on his face painted onto plain white paper.
Scully felt sick and she ran to the bathroom, vomiting her lunch.
Leaning against the sink, she washed her mouth out and remembered
the broken glass.
==========
The tiny shards were the hardest to get up, and only after sweeping
three times did she think she had gotten it all.
She walked back over to the dishes, and heard a crunch as she stepped
on a piece she missed.
Sighing, Scully dropped to her knees and searched the floor.
Not thinking, she scooped up the glass in her hand, and dumped it in
the trash.
Her mind sort of closed down when she saw the blood, like she wasn't
a doctor and didn't see it all the time.
It was only a little cut, but it gushed blood like Old Faithful until
her mind kicked back in and she clamped her hand over her thumb and
finger.
It was then she felt the glass. It was still in her thumb.
She turned to the sink and ran water over the wound, cleaning off the
blood so she could see the cut. She pushed on the open slit and dug
around in her skin to get the piece of glass.
Libby came into the kitchen and peered over the side of the sink.
"Mommy!"
"It's okay, Libby."
"You're bleeding."
"Yeah, baby, I cut myself on some of the glass."
Her face teared up again and Scully wondered why her child had to be
cursed with Mulder's sense of guilt and responsibility, warped as it
was.
"I'm sorry, Mommy. I shouldn't have run. I --"
"Libby this is not your fault. This was Mommy's fault. I was sleepy
and I was being stupid. Mommy did this to herself."
Libby still cried, pushing the tears out of the way though and
reaching out to her mother's bleeding fingers.
"Should we put a Band-Aid on it?"
"In a little bit. I have to get the glass out first."
Her face looked awed. "There's glass in your finger?"
"Unh-huh." Scully nodded and showed her the little sliver. Libby
reached over and touched it carefully.
She giggled. "That's cool."
Scully rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you think so."
"Can I watch you take it out?"
"If you really want to."
Scully bent over her fingers and began working at the glass,
intensely concentrating on working it out, Libby peering at her
blood anxiously.
Mulder slipped inside the apartment and noticed it was too quiet. He
went around to the kitchen and found his girls standing over the
sink, working intently at something.
"So, what's the secret?"
Scully jerked and Libby ran to her father.
"Mommy has glass in her fingers!"
Mulder frowned and picked Libby up, walking over to where Scully
stood by the sink.
He took her finger in his hand and turned it over, peering intently
at it.
A grin flashed across his face.
"Can I watch too?"
Scully rolled her eyes at him and nodded, then went back to her work,
using a sewing needle she had sterilized in peroxide to peel back the
skin.
After another fifteen minutes, both pieces were out.
"Okay, show's over, go on back to your drawing, Libby."
Libby wriggled down from Mulder's arms and darted off at full speed
to her room.
Scully stared at her until the girl seemed to sense her mother's
eyes. Then she paused and tiptoed the rest of the way, not pausing
to look back.
Mulder smiled."What was that about?"
"She was running in here and knocked over a vase and a glass and I
picked up the broken pieces and got a cut."
"Ah."
He looked carefully at her again. "So what else is going on?"
She sighed and picked up Libby's drawing.
Mulder took in the drawing and then shook his head, sitting down on
the countertop.
"He's back. The pin striped suit man. Your angel."
She turned her head and popped the leftover soap suds, idly starting
to wash the dishes again.
"I don't think we need to do anything yet," she said.
He reached over and grabbed the towel to dry off the plate she handed
him, then threw it back and grabbed a clean one.
She glanced at him.
"Had blood on it."
She shook her head. "I didn't use that towel."
"You must have."
She remained silent and finished the dishes, then grabbed the towel
he had discarded and looked it over.
A bright red stain was in the very center.
She frowned. She could have sworn she hadn't used the towel. In fact,
she remembered thinking about specifically not using it.
His words interrupted her thinking.
"I think you're right. We just won't do anything. If something
happens, we'll deal with it then."
He leaned forward and kissed her lips. She relaxed against him and
then brightened.
"Oh yeah. Good news."
He pulled back and put away the last dish.
"What."
"I don't have to work the graveyard anymore. I get regular shift
now."
"What happened?"
"Dr. Pratt volunteered to take over. It turns out his baby daughter
is allergic to sunlight. Isn't that so random? He figured since his
whole life will be spent in the night, he might as well find a job
that fits that. I was more than willing to give it up."
He grinned. "If that's not a miracle for us, I don't know what is."
Her own smile faltered and he shook his head.
"Come on, don't worry about it."
She shook her head. "No, that's not it. I feel sick."
He watched as she ran to bathroom, covering her mouth and looking
white.
Taking his time to let her regain some dignity, he walked into their
bedroom and then into the bathroom.
"You okay?"
She let out a shaky breath. "No."
He knelt down next to her. "Maybe we should take you to the
hospital?"
She shook her head. "It's that flu I got before, remember? It's the
same symptoms. I'll be okay."
He twitched and pulled her back into his arms, taking the washcloth
from her hand and wiping her face with it softly.
"What if it's not? People have died from having pnemonia and letting
it go unchecked."
"That's a bit extreme."
"What if you gave it to Libby?" he said suddenly.
She paused.
Remembered Emily. Sickness and the way her fever licked fire into
every skin cell.
"I think maybe you're right. I'll go."
"Tonight. Right now."
She tried to think of a reason to protest, but couldn't.
==========
"Libby's asleep."
Scully nodded and looked dully out the window of the semi-private
emergency room.
"She didn't like going to Ms. Shawl's in the middle of the afternoon too
well, did she?"
Mulder sighed. "What else could we do? An emergency room is no place
for her. I wish she hadn't been here after the wreck. I tried to keep
her away from everyone and I guess she hasn't gotten sick yet."
"I really didn't even think about it." Scully whispered. "I never
even thought that what happened with Emily ... could happen to
Libby."
"I think we have to treat her health like it's fragile."
"Not like that really. Just be careful."
He nodded and glanced out of the room to the main emergency waiting
room and the countless people still waiting.
"How long have we been here?" Mulder groaned.
"Long enough. I think three hours. It's nine o'clock, right?"
He nodded and sat back in the chair.
Suddenly the doctor came in, a rushed harried look on his face.
"Hi there, Ms. Williams. I see you've been admitted here before."
Scully frowned. "No, I don't -- Oh yeah. The accident."
"Right. Do you think this is related to the pain you've had?"
Scully shook her head, hesitantly.
"I didn't think of that. I mean, my stomach aches, but it makes me
throw up. There's no blood."
The man nodded. "Well, we're going to do a ultrasound just in case.
Make sure nothing inside is bleeding out. We've also taken culture
samples and we should be able to determine if you have an infection."
He shook both their hands and scampered out again.
Mulder was staring at her.
"An ultrasound?"
She tilted her head. "Yes."
"Isn't that ... isn't that what they do for pregnant women?"
Scully bit down on her lip. "Yes. But also it's routinely used to
make sure there aren't any bleeding problems, like he said."
Mulder nodded and sat back in the chair, but kept his eyes on her, a
strange sort of look on his face.
The tech came in then, hooked up the machine and prepared everything.
It felt very strange to her, to have such a thing being done when,
like Mulder pointed out, it was used for pregnant women.
The tech made a noise, stopped the tape and ejected it, then wheeled
the ultrasound equipment to the corner, hurrying out.
Scully raised her eyebrow and felt a kind of panic start in her.
Mulder came to sit next to her, reminding her that she needed to stay
calm.
His warmth made her relax a bit and she sank back into the bed,
letting his hand run over her forehead and his fingers trace tracks
down her cheeks.
The doctor came back in with a funny look.
"Well, we don't need to worry about bleeding out, Ms. Williams. It
looks like you're going to have a baby."
There were no more words.
She stared at the man.
Mulder shifted next to her, glanced down at her with a small look,
then back at the doctor.
"We ... we were told that wasn't possible."
The doctor shrugged. "Let me tell you something I heard once. It's a
verse I had quoted at me one time when I said the same thing. For,
with God, nothing is impossible."
The man turned then paused at the door. "I'll send someone in to set
up everything, let you get a good picture."
Scully sat there, stunned.
Mulder turned to her, a cocky smile on his face, placed his lips to
her ear.
"It'd better be a boy."
==========END==========
(P.S. It's safe to assume the baby was a boy. <g>)
End BOOK TWO
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