Title: Requiem Mass Author: Kayla Ariev Rating: R Spoilers: Requiem; some for One Breath, Memento Mori, and Fight the Future; Milagro Summary: Scully is pregnant, and the baby needs a father. Mulder is missing now, but how long have these two agents been so cozy? Begins where the episode left off. Category: MSR Disclaimer: The X-Files, Mulder, and Scully belong to 1013, FOX and Chris Carter. I'm only borrowing them for a nice little excursion. Note: I've theorized that Mulder and Scully have been (to put it nicely) in a clandestine relationship for some time now. To put it bluntly, they've been screwing for a while now. Also, the biblical references are as accurate as possible. I did my research on Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar, and all quotes are out of the New American Bible, School and Church 1994-1995 Edition. It's a Catholic Bible. * * * Skinner's eyes popped out of his head as if someone had hit him from behind with a tennis racket, while Scully sat before him in the hospital bed, her face twitching from sad to confused to overzealous. "You're *what*?" "I'm . . . pregnant." More twitching. She swallowed the lump that had begun to bubble in her throat, and wiped away remnant and new tears from her cheeks and eyes. She was going to have a baby, something she had always dreamed of, but the most important person in her life, Mulder, was missing. Gone. Abducted. "H-how?" Skinner finally asked. Scully began to chew on her bottom lip. "I don't think I need to go into a biology lesson, do I?" "Well, no, I didn't mean . . . well, last I thought you were, uh . . . barren." "I am. I was. But, I'm not anymore. And I don't know how." She paused and moved her gaze towards her hands, fumbling in her lap with each other and the silver ring. "Does it have a conventional father?" Scully looked up at him, not quite sure if she was being insulted or not. "I mean, do you know if the father is, uh . . . human?" "Oh." Scully looked again to the ring in her hands. She finally stopped fussing with it, and laid her hands still, sure to hide the piece of jewelry Mulder had given to her just before he had left for Oregon without her. "The doctors are running tests as we speak to determine the basic genetics of the baby, to make sure it is human. And if the father is human, to find out if it is who I think it is. Who I *want* the father to be." "And, uh . . . might I ask who you think and want the father to be?" Again, Scully began to chew on her lip as she looked up at AD Skinner. "Knowing how it works, conceiving a child," she began to ramble, "I'm quite certain there should be only one candidate. If the child was messed with, I can't be sure. But if I just happened to suddenly be able to have children again, and this baby was conceived normally, there is only *one* possibility. And, I mean, I didn't know then, so why use protection? We'd both been tested for STDs. It's Bureau policy. I-." "Mulder." It wasn't a question. "You didn't hear it from me." "You know the Bureau discourages such-." "Yes. I know. We know. Knew. Whichever it is." They sat in silence for a moment. "But no one has to know. No one does." "That's debatable." "Sir?" Now it was Agent Scully's turn to be confused. Skinner grabbed a chair from against the wall and pulled it up beside Scully's bed, before sitting down. He might be there for a while. "Not that I condoned it, but, uh . . . about five years ago, a couple agents from VCS started this, uh, pool, shall I say? They started this pool for how long you two have been . . . as they put, screwing the life out of each other. They're just waiting for the two of you to come out with it, so they can cash in their bets. Agents have been putting money in for these five years. This thing is huge." "How huge?" "It could cover your guys' expense bills, and then some." "How many people are in this thing? And how do you know about it?" "I'm actually surprised *you* two didn't know about it. Most of the Bureau has got some money in it. And I know about it, because my secretary is in charge of it." Scully's head reeled. The whole Bureau was privy to something she and Mulder had presumed their own little secret. They only "carpooled" occasionally, made sure they usually came and left at different times. They never went anywhere in public, or if they did, it was something casual, like a cheap dinner or a movie. When they wanted to get more romantic, like a fancy dinner or dancing, they would drive, using separate cars or under the pretense of meeting someone there for business, to Baltimore. They had been careful not to hold hands or kiss or touch too affectionately in public. Sometimes they couldn't help it, like when she had cancer two years ago. Or when they said goodbye at the airport before he left for Oregon. They had been out of Skinner's sight, but were still in public view when Mulder's tongue penetrated Scully's lips. But despite their occasional indiscrepancies, they had taken extra precaution at the Bureau, because, as Scully had told the AD, they both knew FBI policy. Finally, Scully spoke up. "I . . . I don't understand." "Agent Scully it doesn't *matter* what the FBI thinks, as long as it remains a mystery. Do not, under any circumstances, let those agents cash in their bets. Are we clear?" "Yes, sir." "Good." Skinner turned to leave, but Scully called him back in. "Sir, you're not . . . going to *tell* anyone about this, are you?" "Tell anyone what, Agent Scully?" "Nothing sir . . . thank you." Skinner nodded and left. * * * Scully was actually in the process of packing up her things to leave the hospital when her mother and Bill came to see her. "Dana, sweetheart, what happened?" asked Maggie as she came into the room. "Should you be leaving so soon?" "Mom, I'm fine. Really." "It's not the cancer?" "It's not the cancer, mom. I'm fine." Scully continued to pack. "I just sort of passed out; I'd been getting this vertigo since our first night in Bellfleur. And it just got out of hand the other night and I went out black. But I was with some friends, and they drove me down here." "You were on a case when this vertigo thing started?" questioned Bill. "Yes." "This doesn't have anything to do with that partner of yours, does it?" "Yes, Bill, as a matter of fact it does." Bill began to speak, but Scully cut him off. "And before you go off on how much he endangers me for his *causes*, let me just tell you this: Mulder's gone. He's missing. He's been abducted, and it was because he wanted to protect me; because he thought he was keeping me safe. But it wasn't me they wanted, it was him. And they have him. And he couldn't have left at a worse possible moment, except for if my cancer were to have relapsed ? which it has not." "Then what's wrong with you Dana? And what does Fox have to do with this?" "I'm pregnant, mom." The room became silent, until Bill ventured to shatter it. "And your partner . . .?" ". . . is the father." Bill swore and left the room, while Maggie's jaw dropped in amazement and glee. "But Dana, I thought . . .? And, Fox . . .?" "Yes, mom. But I don't know how. Because I thought I was barren, too. I mean, I *was*. There was no doubt about it. But something happened. And now I'm pregnant, and the one person I really need with me now . . . isn't here." Scully bit her lip when, for the first time, she broke down into tears at the loss of Mulder. She had cried when she had first learned the news, but only a few tears. Now she was truly feeling the gap he left in her life. Her mother embraced her and tried to comfort her, but it did no good. The one she needed for consoling was Mulder, and he was gone. Scully picked up the ring he had given her from the table beside the bed and placed it on her left ring finger, whispering his name through tears. * * * "How long have you and Fox been, uh . . .." "Screwing?" said Scully, over her own cup of coffee. She and her mother sat in a coffee shop in downtown Washington, waiting for Bill to show up with Tara and Matthew, and for Charlie to appear from the depths of the world. Scully had asked that she be able to tell Tara and Charlie in person, so Bill had arranged with Maggie to meet them at the coffee shop near the FBI building, so that Scully could come easily from work. "Well, that's not quite what I was going to say, more . . . how long have you two been romancing?" Scully sighed into thought. "Uh . . . three, three and a half years. Since I got my cancer." "Why?" "We love each other. And we had been afraid to admit it, and when Death shows his face in your window, you learn to advance beyond certain fears. We advanced beyond certain fears, and our emotions were one of them. Although we still have problems in that arena, we realized that we didn't have forever to be together and progressed into a more complex relationship." "And sex entered into it?" "Yes, mom, sex entered into it. About a year ago it entered into it. Although we'd come pretty damn close times before that. But sex enters into a lot of healthy relationships." "But Dana, you're not married . . . and you're pregnant." "Well, mom, seeing as we both thought I was *barren*, and I was until quite recently, and we both know we are STD free, thanks to the FBI required every-three-month check up, we saw no reason to use a condom or any such protection." From nowhere appeared Tara, quick to exchange embraces, Bill just behind her with a two-year-old Matthew in tow. "Dana, how are you? What is this big news?" "I'm, uh, actually waiting for Charlie to get here." Tara nodded in acceptance and spun off into an entirely different conversation, about so-and-so at the preschool's latest PTA meeting. Almost an hour later, a lanky young man, with freckles and curly red hair sauntered into the coffee shop. "Delinquent Dana!" he shouted, grabbing Scully from her seat and lifting her into the air. "Kamikaze Charlie!" she returned, erupting into shrieks and giggles as Charlie spun her around in the air. "Took you long enough to come visit me, Charlie Brown." "Sorry, little-red-haired girl. The demands of an actor keep me away." "Don't you mean the demands of waiting tables?" "So I'm a sucker for blue-haired old ladies. Forgive me, Speilberg, for I have sinned . . .." Then, turning more serious, "So what's this news, Dana?" "Yeah, well, why don't we all sit down." When everyone was seated and quiet, Scully began to speak. "I'm not sure how to go about telling you this, so I'm just going to say it. Tara, Charlie, I'm -." "Oh my god," Charlie interrupted, connecting eyes with Scully. "You're pregnant." Silence, the Tara's laughter of absurdity. "No, she can't be. She's-." "Yes." Tara stopped. "I am. I'm pregnant." "It's Mulder, isn't it," stated Charlie. "Yes, it is." "So where is he, anyway?" smirked Bill. "Shouldn't 'daddy' be here?" "I thought I'd made myself very clear, Bill. Mulder has been abducted. He is gone." "What do you *mean* he's been abducted?" said Bill condescendingly. "I mean, *Bill*," spat Scully, "that Mulder has been taken like I was taken five years ago." Bill was silent. "Are you gonna be okay?" asked Charlie, sensing his sister's mounting grief through the connection they had shared since childhood. Scully hung her head low. "Not for much longer." * * * Scully flicked on the light in her apartment, setting down her things while Charlie came in with his suitcase and began to survey the room. "It's been a while, little red-haired girl. I don't remember any of this." "Maybe," said Scully, "that's because the last time you visited me, I lived in a different building." "That would explain it, then." Charlie plopped down on the sofa. "Did he know you were pregnant?" "No," sighed Scully, sinking to sit beside Charlie. "He insisted on going to Oregon without me. I wish Bill could have been there to have seen Mulder persistent to protect me. He might not criticize him so much." "No," said Charlie, "you just wish that Mulder was here with you." A pause. "Maybe you should wait to go back to work." "No, I have to work. It's the only thing that will ground me in reality. Work, and you." Charlie reached out and took his sister into an embrace. "I'm not gonna leave until he comes back." Scully smiled into his shoulder. "Or until I throw you out by force." "No, not even then. I'm quite the stubborn bastard." This elicited a laugh from Scully, which only muffled the tears that began to once again swell in her red-rimmed eyes. * * * Charlie was awoken early in the morning by his sister's screaming of "Mulder!" from the bedroom. He had been sleeping soundly on the sofa when he heard it, and he raced, tripping over his own feet in the darkness, into Scully's room. "Dana," he called, turning on the lights and sitting beside her on the bed. He grabbed her shoulders as he tried to shake her awake. "Dana!" he tried, but she continued to call out for her partner. Remembering that she and her partner referred to each other by their last names, he tried a different approach to wake her. "Scully?" She stopped thrashing about and her breathing began to slow. "Mulder," she mumbled. "Da-, Scully . . . wake up." Scully opened her eyes and, upon seeing Charlie, reached out and slapped him squarely across the face. "Dana, Jesus! It's me!" he screamed, jumping away. "Charlie?" He nodded. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said, burying her face in her hands. "I thought you were someone else." "Well I'm glad that your summation of violence was not actually meant for me." "I'm really sorry, Charlie. I was just having this horrible dream about-." "-Mulder. And before you ask, you were screaming his name." Scully sighed and looked to the clock. It read 6:01 in glowing read digits. "I guess I'll just get up now and go into work a little early. I've done that before." Scully smiled. "And no matter how early I'd get there, Mulder would already be there, sipping his coffee, reading through some new case file or one of those magazines that aren't his." She looked up and made eye contact with her brother. "God, how I miss him." * * * Scully walked slowly down the halls of the FBI building, gazing down at her feet as they passed over the beige tiles, Charlie matching her pace just a few feet behind her. He noticed the way people paused and stared at Scully as she passed them by. When they got to the basement office, she pulled several files, grabbed her laptop and few other papers off of her desk, and began to walk back upstairs. "Skinner doesn't want me down here by myself," she explained, "even though I told him you would be here. He said that I'd be better off upstairs in one of those stuffy, overcrowded rooms that house lots of agents at the same time. Mulder and I were stuck there when they made us do background checks. It was torture." When they reached the so-called stuff, overcrowded room, Scully looked out over the small sea of stilled FBI agents until she found the empty desk that was meant for her. It was tucked away in a dark, lonely corner, a place where she would feel more comfortable. She sat down at the desk, motioning for Charlie to sit across from her in the chair provided, while she began organizing and stacking the files she had brought with her. After a few minutes while Scully just read through a file and took a few notes, she looked up at Charlie, who was spinning lazily in his chair, taking in the sights around him. "You know, Charlie, Mulder's been gone for about nine days now, and there really isn't much for you to do here. Maybe you should go see mom, or something." "Dana, there isn't really much for *you* to do here, either. At least with your partner gone." Scully looked down in irritation. She could not get emotional around the other agents. "I know you're not going to leave, so I'm not either. Give me something to do, even, I don't care. I'll type stuff or something." "It would be so much better in the basement." Then, suddenly, Scully stood and ran from the office, while the other agents looked up bewildered. Charlie followed her to the ladies' room, and then waited outside for her to reemerge. Within, Scully rushed into a stall, ignoring the gossiping female agents that watched as she upchucked that morning's breakfast and some of the previous night's dinner. "Oh shit," she sighed, as she realized what was wrong. She sank from her knees to the floor and buried her head in her hands. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she kept repeating, becoming more and more of a mess. The other women just watched until one went over to Scully and, using a paper towel, wiped the remaining goo from Scully's face and brushed back her hair. She helped her up and over to the sofa. Scully sat and sank back into her "oh shit" reverie, while the other women gathered around. The one who had helped her to the sofa sat beside her and put her arms around her. Her name was Maribelle and she had been in Scully's class at Quantico. They had been friends at the time, but once they had both been assigned to different sectors, they had never bothered to keep in contact. "Dana, are you okay?" "Oh shit, oh shit," Scully continued to cry. Then she looked up. "Mari?" The woman nodded. "Oh shit, this is so horrible. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." "Dana, what's wrong?" "I'm, oh shit, I can't tell you." Scully remembered Skinner's reminder to keep the romance a secret. A pregnancy would certainly give things away, but then, how long could she hide it. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone. I can't. Oh shit." "Dana?" "Could someone please go tell my brother I'm alright and that I'll be out in a minute," Scully snuffled. "His name is Charlie and he has red hair and he looks kind of like me." "Sure," replied Maribelle, and instructed another woman to make sure it get done. "Now what's wrong, dear?" Scully's snuffling erupted suddenly into fitful tears and sobbing. She didn't know how to control it, so she didn't even try. At least she wasn't in front of any male agents, but it was not that great that she was letting go so freely in front of these women. And sadly, Scully knew that her high emotions were due in part to her pregnancy, which was also the cause of her morning sickness. "Dana, you were in the hospital just a few days ago because you passed out and now you're throwing up? Are you sure you're okay?" Maribelle paused, then, "Oh my god, are you pregnant?" Again, Scully's sobbing burst out louder and stronger than before. "Oh, god . . .," she cried. The other women just stared at her. "No one is supposed to know," she said when her tears had calmed somewhat. "I'm not supposed to tell. He doesn't even know, he's not here. Oh god." The other women began to exchange looks of question. Was it Mulder? But Scully had had enough, and so she got up, her tears be damned, and walked out of the bathroom and past Charlie. She was on her way to the stairs to the basement when AD Skinner stopped her in the hall. "Scully?" She looked up at him. Concerned as he was by her tears, he continued. "They found him. Mulder's at Bethesda Hospital." "I have to see him," said Scully, hurrying towards the exit. Skinner stopped her. "Scully, wait." She turned to him. "I'm going to warn you, he's in bad shape. He's almost as bad as you were after your abduction. So just ? just be careful. He's not himself. And take Charlie." Scully nodded and returned to her path towards the exit, as Charlie jogged to keep up with her. * * * Scully burst through the doors of the ICU unit at Bethesda Hospital, her tears calmed, on a mission to get to her partner. She went up to the first nurse she saw. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Fox Mulder. Do you know where Fox Mulder is?" The nurse shook her head and continued walking. Scully grabbed an intern by the forearm. "Excuse me, but where is Fox Mulder?" The intern hurried away. Scully began to go from nurse to doctor to intern to nurse, each time seeking Mulder and each time being ignored. Finally Scully pulled out her gun and screamed "Fox Mulder! Where is Fox Mulder? Now! Let's go! I'm an FBI agent and I don't have all fucking day. Where is Fox Mulder?" A young male doctor spoke up, "He's in the back of the IC Unit. Here, I'll show you there." He led the way, not walking nearly fast enough for Scully, to a dark back corner of the ICU, where Mulder lay. He was unconscious lying there on the hospital bed, bruises and sores all over his body. There was an IV attached to his right arm and other monitors connected by wires all across his arms, chest, and forehead. He was at breathing on his own, but barely. "Oh my god," said Scully, covering her mouth with her hands when she saw him. Through tearing eyes, she walked over to his side. "Mulder? Oh, god, what did they do to you?" Slowly, she began to cry, as Charlie came over to her side and put his arms around her. She brushed him away, though, as she looked again to her partner. Instinctively, she reached out and took his hand, kissing his knuckles with her soft lips. Then Scully let go his hand, and looked around. She saw a sign for the restrooms, and ran towards them, heading straight into a stall, and threw up for the second time that morning. When she came back out, she was just in time to see Skinner, along with her mother, Bill, Tara, and Matthew come in. She immediately brushed away the tears around her eyes with her fingertips. "Dana, are you alright?" asked her mother, taking her into an embrace. "I'll be okay, mom." Then she let go of her mother. Scully was not really in the mood to be touching or to be touched by anyone but Mulder. "It's just morning sickness." Bill looked away, as Maggie said, "I meant about Fox." Scully bit her lip and looked to where her partner lay. "I know you did, mom." "Oh," replied Maggie, stepping away from her daughter. Scully walked back over to where Mulder lay and took his hand again in both of hers. "I'm sure that you guys don't really need to be here." "Dana, there is a lot that needs to be discussed with the doctors. I remember from when you . . . when you were . . .." "Abducted, mom. I was abducted." "Yes, well, maybe I should stay so that you don't start making irrational decisions." "Mom, I'll be fine!" Then, seeing that her mother needed to do *something*, Scully said, "Maybe you could go to my apartment and bring me the overnight bag. Okay?" Maggie nodded and began to leave. "Bill, Tara . . . why don't you and Matthew come with me." Tara nodded in agreement and, taking Matthew by the hand, went to follow Maggie. Bill waited, however, and went over to his sister's side. "He did this for you?" Scully nodded, afraid that if she spoke, she would begin crying again. "I'm sorry, Dana." Not trusting herself, but braving it anyway, Scully said, "I'm not the one you need to apologize to." "Bill?" called Maggie. Bill nodded and followed his wife and mother out of the hospital. Skinner came over to Scully's side. "I know you just got back from a leave of absence, but I'm assuming you'd like to be put back on?" Scully nodded. "I'll call in occasionally to check up on you." With that, the AD left. The last one left, Charlie turned to walk back out, when his sister's voice beckoned him to her side. "What is it?" he asked gently. "I need to be left alone with Mulder for a while. But I don't want you to leave. Will you please stay here with me?" Charlie nodded. "I'll go get us some food to eat." He left, watching his sister sit beside her partner and lay her head on his chest. After several minutes of just laying atop Mulder's chest and feeling and hearing him breathe, Scully sat up. She leaned over and gently kissed his lips, then sat beside him, still clasping his hand. "Mulder . . . I'm sure you know how scared I was that you would not come back to me. It was so hard to have faith enough to believe you would return to me. I remember mom telling me how much you believed, even though she had given up the ghost. But after nine days . . . I was starting to think that I would never see you again. And this morning, when I saw you, I was so happy, despite the sadness that also flew into my heart. Sadness, because you might not pull out of this thing." Scully breathed in a sob. "But Mulder, there is something else I must tell you. Something which I know will be harder to do if you wake up and I have to tell you so that you can process it through your brain. So I might as well practice telling you know. Mulder . . . I'm pregnant . . . and you're the father. I had tests run. And I don't know how it's possible that I can have children again, but I can, and I am at this very moment carrying yours. Which is why, more than ever, I need you to hold on and stay with me. I don't think I can do this alone. I love you so much, Mulder." Scully lay her head again on Mulder's chest and began to cry, until she fell asleep to the rhythm of his breathing. * * * Charlie came down the halls of the ICU, carrying a plastic box of food for his sister and a bottle of iced tea. As he neared Mulder's bed, he saw his sister asleep in the chair next to it, her head laid on her partner's chest. He approached slowly and set the food and iced tea on the table nearby and pulled up a chair beside his sister. Gently, he laid his hand on her shoulder. "Dana?" Slowly, Scully raised her head up and blinked, then looked over to her brother. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. "What time is it?" "It's about three o'clock. You've been here since ten this morning. I brought you some food. You want some?" "Uh . . . sure." Scully began to eat the food Charlie had brought for her, but after about two bites, she set it aside. "Aren't you going to eat the rest of that?" "Maybe later. I'm not really that hungry." Scully turned her gaze back to Mulder. After several minutes, her eyes still on her partner, she began to speak. "I'm so scared, Charlie. It's like . . . he's back now, but I can't do anything to decide his fate. He's in this flux . . . he's choosing whether to live or to die. And I know Mulder, and he would never choose to die. But they'll present him with his father, and his mother . . . and his sister. He has reasons to move on. But he has reasons to stay. And I just wish I could find a way to reach him . . . to tell him . . . to convince him to stay here with me." "Did he reach you when you were in the flux?" "Yes. But he had Missy here to help him." "You have Missy here to help you." "What do you mean?" "Dana, Missy left us in the flesh, but her spirit still remains. It is with each one of us every single day of our lives; the same with Dad's spirit. Missy is the one that says, "go for the impossible." She's the one that made Bill apologize to you for all he's said about Mulder. She's the one that makes you believe the unbelievable that you have always been a skeptic of. She's the one that encourages me when I get that call of rejection after an audition. She's always here, Dana. Always." "Charlie . . . I'm so afraid." "I know, my little delinquent Dana. But you just need to be strong. I know you're funneling your strength to him as we speak, but hold on to some of what you have; find that part of you that is him and use it. Speak to him, Dana." And then, while Scully sat listening to her brother talk to her, his voice changed. It was no longer Charlie's voice that she heard . . . it was Melissa's. "Go to him. He needs you." Scully sucked in a deep breath. She knew what she had to do. * * * Matter does not exist here like it does in the physical world. The air here is not the air I normally breathe. Mulder is sitting here, in Limbo, and I have come to him so that I might persuade him to return to me. Mulder is sitting here in Limbo, on the freshly cut grass of a clearing in these woods. There are these beautiful California Redwoods all around us, and nearby a creek trickles downwards towards a lake or a river. Mulder sits on the grass, legs crossed, and completely naked. He does not appear weak or sick, like he does back in the hospital. Here is healthier than he has ever been since the day he was born. His muscles are strong and his skin is smooth, and there is not an errant strand of hair on his head. I am standing in front of him, alone but in perfection similar to his. I am not naked, but I wear a long white dress that billows in the warm breeze. He appears alone, but from the shadows step familiar figures that come to stand behind him. They have already shared their words with him: his father, his mother, Samantha. Then there are two other faces that step up to join his family, and these are the faces that shock me: my father and Melissa. Clinging tightly to Melissa's hand is the most precious treasure in the world that I lost to an unholy war. My precious daughter, Emily, stands beside my sister shyly, smiling up at me. Melissa follows my gaze to my daughter, and when I catch her eyes, she smiles warmly. They are all okay. Then Melissa turns a concerned look to my partner, eyes closed in his meditation. She nods. "Mulder," I call. Slowly he opens his eyes to look at me. At first it is as if I am a stranger, but then recognition hits and he begins to look sad. Had he forgotten about me? "Mulder, I know what is happening to you. I know because it happened to me, too. And I know that there are all these people that are saying to you, "Come be with us, Fox." But I need you to come be with me, Mulder. I need you because I love you and because without you, half of me is dead. And someone else here needs you, too, Mulder. Your child. *Our* child. I don't know how it's possible, but I am bearing our child, Mulder. Yours and mine . . . you're going to be a father." I feel a tug pull at the back of my dress. "Mulder, I cannot stay any longer, but I need you . . . *we* need you to come back. I need you to return to me. Mulder, please . . . I love you." And then, I am gone. * * * Scully wept alone in the darkness over the slumbering form of her partner. Accompanying her sobs was only the hopeful beeping of Mulder's heart monitor. * * * It is said that God created the Earth in the course of a week, and on the seventh day He rested. On the Eighth day, He awoke, again. * * * The area around the ICU hospital bed of Special Agent Fox Mulder was abuzz with activity. Three A.M. and nurses and doctors flitted about, checking his monitors, adjusting the IV, marking his vitals, recording his blood pressure and heart rate, and asking him too many questions at once. Mulder's head spun; he could barely see, and was trying to focus on too much too quickly. His eyes rolled around, searching his surroundings for something recognizable. Scully stood at a distance, forced to be away from his immediate side by the doctors and nurses attending to him. After almost an hour of torture, the doctors and nurses left his side, instructing Scully to make sure he didn't try to sit up. And to call if something happened. Once they had all left, traversing around the corner, Scully moved to Mulder's side. She sat beside him on the bed, and took his hand in her own. He looked up to her, and after a moment of squinting and allowing his eyes to focus, he recognized her. "Scully," he gasped roughly and tried to sit up. She held him down with her hand and shushed him gently. "It's okay, Mulder. Everything is gonna be okay." "I . . . need to . . . feel . . . you," he managed. Scully knew what he wanted, and she leaned down and kissed his lips, gently at first, but as he opened his mouth to hers, she threw all the passion she knew into it. There were sparks, literally, that flew between their teeth when their tongues met in a flamenco dance. "Oh my god," Scully gasped, pulling back at the reaction. "How the hell?" "It's the charge," Mulder said. He spoke softly, as if in a whisper; as if it hurt to speak. His voice was raspy, like the sound of radio static or tires on a gravel driveway. "What charge?" Scully said, searching his face with her eyes. "Mulder, what charge?" "The ship," he replied. "There was a charge . . . an electrical charge on the ship, and it . . . transpired down to . . . me . . . and the . . . others." "Are you saying that you're . . . electrically charged?" "Yes," Mulder breathed out. He looked over to Scully, who sat with her gaze downward, trying to figure out what that meant. "Don't worry . . . it will wear off." "H-how do you know?" "I just . . . do." Scully still seemed shaken by this. "Remember when I heard all the voices?" Scully nodded. "It's like that again . . . but better. There aren't so many . . . it's like there is a filter on my brain now, so that I only hear certain things. And I heard, from them, that it would wear off." "Them?" "I didn't need psychic abilities to know you were going to say that," he rasped through a laugh. "Them . . . the aliens. They're very smart. Evil as hell, but brilliant." Mulder went to sit up, but Scully stopped him. "Mulder, you're not supposed to sit up yet." "Bullshit," he said, sitting up anyway. "Those doctors don't know what I've been through. I'll be fine. It was my choice. Everyone was given the choice." "What choice?" "To live or to die." Scully stared back at him, eyes wide with wonder and love. "Scully, imagine a race where there is no verbal communication. Everything is transcribed through the brain; telepathically. It's quite ingenious. There would be no chance of miscommunication, no secrets, no lies. You would never have to think about using the right words, because there are no words. The other person just hears what you think in their head. It's . . . perfect." "Mulder, nothing is perfect. And besides, sometimes you don't want someone to know exactly what you're thinking. Sometimes, Mulder, secrets are good." "No, Scully. It is perfect. Our race is not perfect, and that is why we need secrets and why we need lies. *They* are perfect. It was . . . beautiful. I don't know how else to describe it to you Scully. It was beyond words . . . just like them." "I don't know Mulder . . .." Scully looked right into Mulder's eyes, biting her lower lip. "Let me show you," he said. He pulled her closer to him and grasped her temples gently but firmly in his hands. He leaned his forehead against her and said, "Open." And then, Scully was there, where Mulder had been, inside a ship that could sustain life for thousands of years. Generations could turn over on the ship. Plants were growing and aliens bustled about with their daily routine. There were no families, because families complicate things. And no one said anything, they just exchanged thoughts. And it was just how Mulder had said it was: perfect. There was no phoniness, no falsity, no prevarication, no fallacy, no erroneousness. No such things existed. There was just a skeleton of truth and nothing else. Everything transcended everything else. It was unspeakable in it's existence, but . . . perfect. Beautiful and absolutely perfect. "Oh my god," breathed Scully as Mulder released her from his memory. They pulled back only slightly, gazing into each other's eyes and breathing heavily. "There is something you need to tell me," Mulder said. "I couldn't get what it was, but there is something. And it's very important, isn't it?" Scully looked deep into his eyes. "It's why I had to live." Scully pulled away and slid off and leaned against the foot of the bed. "Mulder, what did they do to you?" "Nothing worse than what they did to you." "Yeah, well . . . whatever they did to me . . . some of it's been undone." "What do you mean?" said Mulder, swinging his feet off the side of the bed and sliding down closer to Scully. "Mulder," she said, turning to face him. "I'm pregnant." Pain filled his eyes. "What?" "I'm pregnant." "How? With who? What?" "How, Mulder? Two people have sex, the sperm penetrates the egg and voila! Baby." "Damn it, Scully. I know the biology. But *how*? With you . . . your . . . the aliens, they took all your . . . ova." "Apparently they gave some back." "It isn't an . . . alien baby, is it?" "No. It's human." "Whose is it?" he asked solemnly. Scully took a step closer so that as she spoke, her face was mere inches from Mulder's. "Whose do you *think*?" Mulder stared at her. "Mulder, it's yours. The baby is yours! It's your fucking baby!" Mulder almost passed out. "Mine?" "Yes, Mulder. Yours. Yours and mine." "But . . . how?" "Mulder, don't you remember?" "Remember what?" "The motel? In Bellfleur? We," Scully lowered her voice, "we had sex." "We did?" "Mulder?" "Oh my god." The aliens had taken Scully's ova when she was abducted. What had the aliens taken from him? * * * One week later, Scully sat on the soft leather sofa in Mulder's apartment. He came into the room carrying two mugs of coffee. He sat beside Scully, setting the mugs on the coffee table beside them. He pulled one leg up onto the sofa and turned so that he could face Scully more easily. She did the same. They stared at each other for several minutes before Scully cautiously dared to break the silence. "Mulder, how will this work?" He breathed in heavily. "I'm going to create a connection between our brains. I can do that now, like when I showed you how the aliens had been." Scully nodded. "So once I've created the connection, I will open my brain to yours so that the memories can flow between us and be shared. But for this to happen, you need let them flow. This is harder than you think. You have to practically relive everything that happened. You will have to repeat almost every sound, motion, and word. Do you understand?" "I . . . I think so." "It might be somewhat embarrassing for you. But it's the only way." Scully nodded. "It's okay. You need to have these memories." "Okay," said Mulder. He reached over and grasped her head in his hands and pulled her towards him so that their foreheads touched. "I'm open . . . whenever you're ready." He heard her breathe out heavily and begin to focus her energy. And then the memories came, bombarding him with overwhelming sensations. It was the night after she left the hospital where she was supposedly being treated for her cancer. He drove her all the way home. He carried her into her apartment. Put her into bed. Then he leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the lips. He told her, <> She said the same. "I love you." They kissed again, this time more forcefully. "Mulder, no one can know." <> "It will have to be." Then came a bombardment of secret dates. Going in to movies or a cheap dinner and being forced to act platonically towards the other. But then whoever was driving the other home would pull off onto an un-traveled side road. And they would kiss and make-out, each time with more passion than the last. There were some nights spent in Baltimore, under the pretense of meeting someone there for business. They would go to a beautiful dinner and then dancing and could be a couple in public. A wary couple, but a couple nonetheless. There were hundreds of these encounters that flashed into Mulder's head. Two and a half years of romance that had been locked up in his head were being brought to him. They were familiar, but as if they had all been dreams. It was hard to fathom that they were, in fact, events that had really happened. Then, a year ago, something happened. It was that case with Phillip Padgett, the writer. Mulder remembered that. And he rushed into the room to find Scully covered in blood and lying as if she were dead. As he leaned over her body she jerked up and clasped onto Mulder and cried. He just held her. Then his memory stopped and Scully's came to fill it in. He carried her into his bedroom; laid her on the bed. He went to leave, but she said, "No, don't go." <> He snuggled up beside her and after several minutes he leaned down and kissed her. She kissed back. Scully was groaning on the sofa beside him. They began to make love for the first time. Scully gasped and screamed out Mulder's name. More encounters like that flashed into Mulder's head. How could he have forgotten such beautiful moments? And then, the moment of truth. They were in Bellfleur, for the second time on a case. And for the second time, Scully came into Mulder's motel room in fear. She'd experienced vertigo. She was still shaking. Without hesitation he put her into his bed, under the covers. He climbed atop the bed and wrapped his arms around her, spooning. He held her and murmured into her ear, his breath brushing over her skin and her hair. He brushed a few errant strands away and kissed her cheek. He remembered those things, but what he did not remember was the kissing and lovemaking that followed. And what he learned only from Scully's memory, something which had not been part of his, was the conception of a child; their child. Then the airport, before he left for Bellfleur with Skinner. They kissed, tongues dancing, in the airport, away from the assistant director's eyes. "Don't you dare leave me," she said. <> But he did. * * * Scully sat beside Mulder on the sofa, watching him sip his coffee and process the new memories in his mind. Three and a half years of romance that had been stolen from him. It wasn't fair; to either of them. "Three and a half years?" he said for about the thirtieth time in the last half-hour. "Yes," replied Scully. "Three and a half years." Mulder breathed out shakily, close to unmanly tears. He spoke, struggling to keep such turbulent emotions at bay. "I don't understand why they stole that away from me. It . . . it doesn't seem to have a purpose. Why couldn't they just do to me what they did to you? Make me infertile. Not that I love the idea of it, but . . . and apparently I have passed on a new life, so it would be a little better." "You might be infertile, Mulder. You never had tests run." "But the other night, I -." "You what, Mulder?" "Well . . . it seemed to flow out alright the other night in the shower." Scully nodded in understanding. "I'll call the clinic and make an appointment for you." "No, Scully, I don't want to do that." "I'll go with you. It'll be all right. We need to know." Mulder nodded in consent and slipped back into silence. Then, "Three and a half years?" Scully's eyes began to tear, but she laughed through them, pulling Mulder into a tender embrace. "I love you." "Oh, god . . . it's so nice to hear you say that." "We'll pull through this thing, Mulder. You'll get your memories back. They're just locked and hidden in your brain. But we'll find them. You and I . . . together." "Scully . . . will you stay here tonight?" He looked deep into her eyes. "Well, usually we stay at my place, but yes. I will stay here tonight. Let me go get my bag from the car." She headed for the door. Mulder got up and followed her. "You've got a bag?" "Yes. So do you." "Really . . .." * * * Scully had been right, of course. Mulder's memories were not gone; had not been taken from him. They had only been locked up and hidden away in the basement office of his mind. And that night, in a furor of passion and wanton sex, the lock was broken and they all came flooding back into his mind. He remembered everything. Every detail, every tender brush of Scully's fingertips, every errant mark on her ivory skin, every strand of titian hair, every murmured word and every tear of joy. As they came together in a burst of love and noise, he saw everything of the three and a half years. They cuddled together, sticky and sweaty, and he cried aloud for the memories that had returned to him. * * * As they walked down the halls of the FBI building, a little bit closer together than normal, the buzz of activity hushed to watch the intriguing pair pass on their way to their basement office. Mulder and Scully saw the wayward glances that passed their way and smirked in response. They walked with a proud lilt in their step, heads held higher than ever before. They were going to take the FBI by storm. In fact, they were going to take over the world, the two of them together. This air of confidence and pride permeated the air around them and filled the entire building like a cheap perfume. There wasn't a soul there that could not sense Mulder and Scully's presence. As they neared the basement office, they heard sounds from inside, as if someone was spinning around in Mulder's chair. He halted Scully's steps and shushed her, drawing his gun. He moved to the door cautiously, and slowly opened it. He took a slow step towards the desk when the chair spun around, a tall, red-haired man sitting in it. "Freeze!" shouted Mulder, pointing his gun at the man. The man, in turn, screamed and flew over, knocking the chair down in the process. It was as the man struggled to get up that Scully walked into the room. "Charlie?" "Scully, you know this guy?" "Oh my god, Charlie. Mulder put your gun away." "What the hell?" said Mulder under his breath. "What are you doing here?" said Scully. "I, uh, was . . . uh, waiting for you, my little red-haired-girl." "Scully, what the *hell* is going on?" "Mulder," said Scully through a small chuckle, "I'd like you to meet my younger, more liberal brother, Charlie." "Oh." Mulder walked over and shook the younger man's hand. "Sorry about the gun thing." "S'okay," said Charlie. "I enjoy flying out of chairs in a tumble of limbs. Really, it's fun. You should try it some time." Mulder smiled. "I can already see the liberality, Scully." "What did it for you, Mulder? The fact that he's wearing a Hawaiian shirt or the sarcasm?" "Both, I'm sure." "Charlie, if you hadn't already guessed, this is my partner, Fox Mulder." "Nice to meet you," said Charlie. "I know you don't like Fox, so is Foxy alright?" "Charlie's from California, Mulder. He's an actor." "Really?" asked Mulder. "No, actually I wait tables to blue-haired old ladies, and I audition for acting jobs. I've been in a commercial once. They liked my hands, so I got to open a can of dog food." Scully sighed and spoke to her partner. "He's had small roles in a couple TV shows and a few movies. He's got friends. He's great, really, he just doesn't quite have that Hollywood look or physique." "I'm telling you, Dana . . . the skinny nerd look is coming back. A year from now it's gonna be all the rage." "Charlie," said Mulder, "I already love you." "Thanks, but . . . I swing the other way." Mulder laughed aloud and proceeded to acquaint himself with the better brother of the Scully family. * * * Mulder and Scully were walking towards Scully's car in the orange light of the setting sun. They were leaving the building around five o'clock along with all the other agents. Usually the pair left around seven or eight, staying late to finish up a field report or to go over evidence, or simply to talk in the privacy of the basement. This day was different, however. While Charlie had been with the agents, Mrs. Scully had called her daughter. She wanted to know where her younger son was and if he, Scully, and the returned Mulder would care to come over for a family dinner, seeing as Bill and Tara were also in town. Mulder and Scully had agreed, as they both knew that there was no arguing with Maggie when she had her mind set to do something. And this was the day she had decided that she was going to have a family dinner, with Mulder, and Bill was going to make his peace. No ifs, ands, or ? "But Mom, Mulder and I have some work--." "I don't care, Dana. You two can get out of it. Besides, he just got back. There's no rush. Calm down. I'll see you here at six thirty." And so they were leaving at five so that they could go home, change, and be at Mrs. Scully's only sort of late. They knew that they would be late when they agreed to leave at five. It was an unspoken agreement the pair had made. Scully had dropped Mulder off at home, and had then gone to her apartment. After changing, Mulder left his apartment and went to Scully's to pick her up. "The doors open," she called when he had knocked. He came into the apartment and set down the bottle of wine he had brought with to give to Scully's mother. He had changed, as per Maggie's request of a "casual night," into a pair of blue jeans and a gray T-shirt. It was a fairly warm night, but Mulder somehow found the need to wear his black leather jacket. After several minutes, Scully emerged from the depths of her bedroom. She was dressed for summer, in a knee-length floral skirt that swung against her legs and a nicely cut baby-blue tank top. She grabbed her khaki jacket that was tossed over the sofa, put her keys, her wallet, and her ID in the pocket, and led the way out the door. * * * It was a little after seven, and not six thirty, when Mulder and Scully finally arrived at Maggie Scully's house. Bill and Charlie were on the sofa having a neutral conversation. Tara absent-mindedly entertained Matthew on the floor, while chatting with Maggie. As Mulder and Scully came into the room, everyone stopped what they were doing to look up at them. "Hi," said Scully against the awkward silence. "Sorry we're . . . late. There was some stuff to go over at work and we left later than planned." "Work, again," said Bill. "Pardon me?" "Nothing, Dana . . .." Maggie stood up from where she had been sitting. "Alright," she said. "That's it. We're going to get this out once and for all. Bill, Dana, and Fox-." "Mulder." "The three of you need to discuss your issues, and you're going to do it right now, right here. No arguments. Let's go." The three stood awkwardly, Mulder and Scully near the doorway, Bill by the sofa. Scully instinctively reached for Mulder's hand and he took it without hesitation. The action did not slip from Bill's notations. "Dana . . . I apologized to you at the hospital. You wouldn't accept it." "No, Bill. I told you that I wasn't the one who needed your apology." When Bill didn't say anything, Scully continued. "I think we all know who does." She looked to Mulder, who suddenly found his feet and the floor very interesting. This entire situation was one, which he did not want to face. He knew what would happen when his emotions let out. "I can't," said Bill. "What do you mean you can't?" said Dana. "It's a simple apology for being an asshole!" "Dana, how dare-." "No, Bill. How dare *you* proceed to tell me how to run *my* life. You want to just waltz in whenever you see fit and tell me how I messed up, and how I chose the wrong career, stayed with the wrong partner, love the wrong people. It's *my* life, Bill. I can take care of myself." "Not always, Dana." "And when I can't, I have someone *else* to take care of me, Bill. Someone who respects me, my choices, my decisions, my intelligence, and my integrity. Someone who trusts me and whom I can trust, no doubts about it. Someone who loves me and whom I love very much. Bill, I don't care how much you hate Mulder, but he fills a void in me that no one else has ever even come close to fitting into. It's a hole, Bill, that was never meant for you." There was no response from Bill. "I believe you owe my partner, and the father of my child, an apology." "Scully, it's -." "No, Mulder, it's not okay." "Agent Mulder," said Bill. "I'm sorry." "Mean it, Bill." Bill breathed in deeply. "Agent Mulder. My sister told me what you did to protect her. I don't understand you or what you do or how you work. Or why you do some of the things you do. And I'm not even sure if you love my sister, but I'll take her word for it. But I'm sorry for being so . . . rude . . . to you." Mulder bit his lower lip and nodded, squeezing Scully's hand tighter and tighter. He spat out, "Thank you, *Bill*." "Ow, Mulder," said Scully, as his hand gripped hers with even more force. "Mulder, let go." "Scully?" "Mulder, you're hurting me." Mulder finally realized what she was talking about and he released her hand. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize-." "It's okay," Scully breathed. "I think, Bill, that Mulder has more he'd like to say." "Scully, I don't think that's a good idea," replied Mulder. "Mulder . . . you need to do this. You need to get this off your chest." He whispered to her. "I'm afraid that, in getting this off my chest, I'll let loose with my fists." "Then let loose," she whispered back. "Scully, I-." "He deserves it, Mulder. Now beat the crap out of him so we can all eat dinner. I smell fried chicken." Mulder smiled, kissed Scully briefly on the lips, and turned to face Bill. "Well, Agent Mulder? What is it you'd like to say?" "I'd like your wife to first take your son out of the room so that he doesn't hear what I'm about to say. It may scar him for life." Tara picked up Matthew and carried him upstairs. When they were gone, Mulder took a deep breath, and began to speak. "Bill Scully, you are undoubtedly the biggest asshole the world has ever known. You are arrogant, presumptuous, needling, rude, and myopic. You butt in where you have no place and are unwanted. You form conclusions without facts or knowledge other than the face value. You assume that because, during Scully's work with me, Melissa died, Scully was abducted, became barren, and got cancer, not to mention numerous other wounds and hospitalizations, that I am a lousy partner and it's all my fault. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE LOST?! DO YOU?!?" Mulder was screaming now, close to tears. "I lost my ONLY sister when she was innocently eight years old. My *father* let them take her and experiment on her. She was only eight. She was a child. The family tore apart. My childhood sucked. I went from bad relationships to worse relationships. My father is dead, my mother is dead. My *sister* is dead, and I never got to tell her how much I loved her. I never got to watch her go to prom. I never got to see her graduate and go to college. I never got to attend her wedding or visit her family and watch her children play. I never got to invite her over for Passover or for Rosh Hashanah. I don't have anyone, but Scully. And then you proceed to tell me that *you've* suffered. You weren't even there when Scully was abducted. *I* was the one who kept looking for her. *I* was the one that didn't give up! I WAS THE ONE WHO KEPT HER ALIVE!! Were you there when she got cancer? No. BUT I WAS!! I was the one who looked for a cure. Who put my ass on the line to save her! What did you do? *You* sat around and moped, blaming *me* for your grief and insecurities. I've almost died saving Scully, more than once. I went to Antarctica to save her! But did you know that? No ? you just presumed that everything that has befallen your little family is MY FAULT!! Maybe, it's yours. Maybe it's no one's. Or maybe, you just need to FUCK OFF!" At that, Mulder swung out and punched Bill right in the face. No one stopped him. After that, Mulder turned and walked out the door, heading down the street with no direction. Scully didn't wait for Bill's reaction, she just left and followed Mulder. * * * It didn't take Scully long to catch up to Mulder as he walked aimlessly down the street where her mother lived. She came up beside him and matched his hurried pace. Finally, "I'm sorry, Scully." "For what?" "For . . . saying all that stuff." "Don't be, Mulder. I'm just surprised that you didn't say *more*." With that, Scully reached down and took Mulder's hand in her own. "I love you." Mulder slowed their pace. "How can you say that so easily?" "Well, besides the fact that I *mean* it . . . I've had three and a half years of practice." "But . . . so have I. And since I've been back, I have yet to say it to you." "Then say it now." Mulder stopped and turned so that he was face to face with Scully. He took her other hand in his and gazed directly into her denim eyes. "Scully . . . I love you." Scully smiled. "I love you, too." And before she could lean up to kiss Mulder, he had already captured her mouth with his own. "We should go back," she said when they broke apart. Mulder nodded in agreement and, in silence and hand in hand, they walked back to Maggie's house. * * * The summer scent of fried chicken, green and pasta salads, fresh garlic bread, and cold lemonade and iced tea filled the house. As Mulder and Scully came back into the house, they were welcomed by these rich aromas and smiled at the reminder of summers as happy children. The summers that were marked by games in the cold sprinklers, unnaturally colored popsicles that dribbled down the fingers, campouts in the backyard under the stars and in the cool night air. These memories all wrapped themselves up in the smell of the foods that were made for Memorial Day and Fourth-of-July weekends. Bill sat alone on the sofa, an ill-made ice bag attending to the darkening bruise across his left cheek. Charlie helped his mother and Tara finish the meal and set out the table, while Matthew followed along at their heels, trying to share his fire truck with them. He found himself ignored. As Mulder and Scully came in, he found himself a new target. "Twuck!" he said, holding the toy up for the agents to see. "Wow," said Mulder, sitting down on the floor so that he was more eye-level with the two-year-old. "This is one fine looking vehicle." "Viccle!" giggled Matthew. "Gweat viccle TWUCK!" "I'm not sure I got all that, but . . . I think I understand. Why don't you show this to Scully?" "Scully! S-C-U-L-L-Y! Matthew is M-A-T- uh-oh. Don't remember." Mulder chuckled. "M-A-T-T-H-E-W spells Matthew." "Yes?" "Never mind." Mulder picked up a forgotten police car about the same scale as Matthew's fire truck, and began to wheel it around on the floor and make siren noises. "Do you like policemen or firemen better, Matthew? Or do you just prefer the FBI over all?" "FBI!" "That's a good boy," laughed Mulder. "Start young." Scully smiled as she watched Mulder play and laugh with her nephew. He would be a good father for their child when the little one popped out in nine months time. Or, at this point, it was closer to eight months . . . it wouldn't be long until the pregnancy became visually evident. And Scully had no idea how she would keep it quiet at the FBI. * * * Ten Months Later . . . Dana Scully walked down the halls of the FBI building, late to work having come from a doctor's appointment. There was a bag slung over her shoulder filled with diapers, bottles, and baby toys and in her arms was six week old Daniel Mulder. This was the first time Scully had come into work since before Daniel's birth, so she was not surprised when other agents would approach to meet the young boy. She and Mulder had still not openly said anything about their relationship, but their silence did not stop the FBI from talking. And they most certainly talked. As Scully was on her way to the basement, Mulder came out from a meeting with Skinner and spotted her. "Is that my baby boy?" he said, without thinking. Scully, not noticing their surroundings either, went over to meet Mulder. He took Daniel from her arms and cradled him in his own, kissing him softly on the top of his head. "Hey there, Daniel. How's my little spooky?" "Mulder, don't call him that." "He is, though. Baby spooky." Mulder kissed him again, as the baby wrapped his tiny hand around Mulder's forefinger. "His name, Dad, is Daniel." "I know . . . it was my idea." "Our idea." "Right, Momma Spooky." Scully rolled her eyes and took Daniel back into her arms, and handed Mulder the bag full of baby supplies. He took it without a second thought and slung it over his own shoulder, wrapped his arm around Scully, and proceeded to escort her down the hall to their basement office. Meanwhile, Skinner watched their exchange from the door of his office, noting their blind indiscrepancy. * * * As Scully read through some files, Mulder sat with Daniel on his lap. He would speak to him softly and hold his baby hands and his baby feet. And he would quietly sing songs to him. And he would just stare and stare at him. Scully looked over and watched as her child's father interacted with his son. She smiled. She had not seen Mulder this happy since they had first began romancing. Mulder looked up eventually and noticed her strayed attention towards him. "I just can't get over how tiny he is," he said. "He's got so much of you in him. And he's real . . . this little tiny human is my child. Our child, Scully . . . yours and mine. And here he is, healthy and happy and . . . drooling on my trousers. But I don't care. This is my son. I'm a father." He looked up to Scully. "And you're . . . a mother." * * * Daniel stood before her, a young boy of six. He stood there, staring at his mother enveloped in her white gown. Daniel was surrounded by a gold light that shone through his eyes as he gazed at his mother. "Beware," he said in a grown voice, very similar to his father's. "There is a war about to fall upon us. And you must fight. You both must fight." Scully turned, and saw Mulder sitting beside her, also gazing at their son. "Don't let the beasts of evil take over. You are one like a son of man, and you must defeat the lion with eagle's wings, the bear with three tusks, and the leopard with four wings and four heads of Persia. Do not let the visions of Nebuchadnezzar frighten you." And Daniel faded into the seraphic light. * * * Scully and Mulder awoke at the same time, startled by their shared dream. Mulder's breathing was heavy, as was Scully's, whose red hair lay matted against her balmy face. "Daniel," said Scully, getting up from her bed and moving towards the crib that lay next to the cracked window. It was a hot night and she had placed his crib there so as to keep him a bit cooler. He lay there, peacefully asleep. Scully let out a deep breath. "Nebuchadnezzar?" said Mulder. Scully nodded and opened the top drawer of her nightstand. She dug around for a moment and then pulled out her Bible. "Nebuchadnezzar," she said, flipping threw the pages of the holy book, "was a king of Babylonia. Well, technically of Chaldea, around 605 BCE. He was a great conqueror. In 597 he captured Judea, also known as Jerusalem, and with it, many Judean people. These Jews were brought to Babylonia as captives, and one of these Jewish captives was Daniel." Mulder was starting to realize where this was going. "Daniel interpreted one of Nebuchadnezzar's dreams and later helps his three friends to escape from a furnace, to which they had been cast for refusing to worship an idol. The Book of Daniel recounts four apocalyptic visions that Daniel has. One of these visions, in the form of a dream, presents four beasts. Here it is." Scully began to read from her Bible. "'The first was like a lion, but with eagle's wings . . . The second was like a bear . . . and among its teeth were three tusks . . . After this I looked up and saw another beast, like a leopard; on it's back were four wings like those of a bird and it had four heads. To this beast dominion was given.' It's thought that the lion represents the Babylonian empire, the bear the Median empire, and the leopard the great Persian empire. Then Daniel describes what has been attributed as representing the people of God: 'As the visions during the night continued, I saw One like a son of man coming, on the clouds of heaven. When he reached the Ancient One and was presented before him, he received dominion, glory, and kingship; nations and peoples of every language to serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed.'" Scully looked up to Mulder. "I think," she continued, "that we are the 'One like a son of man.' And our opponents are three beasts of Babylonia, Media, and Persia. And we cannot let Nebuchadnezzar's visions frighten us." Mulder pondered this new knowledge for several minutes. Then he asked, "What was Nebuchadnezzar's vision?" Scully flipped a few pages back in her Bible. "This is Nebuchadnezzar's vision, in his own attributed words. 'I saw a tree of great height at the center of the world. It was large and strong, with its top touching the heavens, and it could be seen to the ends of the earth. Its leaves were beautiful and its fruit abundant, providing food for all. Under it the wild beasts found shade, in its branches the birds of the air nested; all men ate of it. In the vision I saw while in bed, a holy sentinel,' or an angel, 'came down from the heaven.'" "Does the angel say anything?" "It says . . . 'Cut down the tree and lop off its branches, strip off its leaves and scatter its fruit; let the beasts flee its shade, and the birds its branches. But leave in the earth the stump and roots, fettered with iron and bronze, in the grass of the field.' Oh my god, Mulder," she said. "They want to reduce us." "What?" "The three beasts of our world . . . they want to ruin and destroy us, but keep us alive so that we must sit, as a stump in a field, and watch as they fetter iron and bronze across the world. They're going to make us endure their man-made apocalypse." "Oh my god . . . and Daniel?" "Daniel will be scattered as the fruit." "We have to fight them." "We have to *win*." * * * Mulder and Scully walked with an air of mission down the halls of the FBI building, Daniel in his mother's arms. She did not want to leave him alone unless it became absolutely impossible, in which case he would stay with his grandmother, Maggie. They made their way swiftly towards Skinner's office and walked right in, ignoring his secretary's pleas that they wait to enter. As they came into the office, they noticed the retreating form of a man leaving through the alternative exit of Skinner's office. Noting that the man was leaving, Mulder and Scully came in and stood before the AD. "Agents, what is this about?" "Sir . . . we have reason to believe that we, and our, er, Scully's son . . . are in danger." Skinner nodded. "Of course you do. Letting yourselves act so openly lovingly towards each other in a crowded FBI hallway, which also has surveillance cameras recording twenty-four hours a day, is very dangerous." "Sir?" said Scully, adjusting Daniel in her arms. "I saw you two yesterday, in the hallway. With . . . your son." "His name is Daniel, sir," said Mulder. "Yes, well, the two of you forgot your discrepancy in the midst of your love for each other and adulation for your son." Mulder and Scully exchanged a silent glance. "I suggest you take all the necessary precautions because I can do nothing to help or protect you. And whatever you do, after this moment and until this thing is cleared up, do not trust me. At all." "Sir?" "I can't explain. I just hope you understand that I do not mean to harm you, but I don't have a say in this. That's all I can tell you. I'm sorry." "Yes, sir," replied Scully, turning her gaze towards the floor. "We should . . . go," said Mulder. He and Scully began to leave when the AD called them back. "Wait." The agents turned. "Can I, um . . . can I see your baby?" Mulder and Scully smiled and nodded. Scully approached the AD and held up Daniel in her arms. He blinked as he stared up at Skinner. The usually impassive AD smiled as he looked down on the tiny creation. Daniel looked like his parents, with fuzzy dark brown hair beginning to grow on his head, a darker complexion like Mulder's, and bright blue eyes just like his mother. "Would you like to hold him?" said Scully. "Could I?" Scully nodded, and helped her superior, and, at times like this, her friend, to cradle her child in his arms. He beamed and looked up at the agents. "I can't believe this! I never thought I would be holding . . . your baby . . .." "I never thought I'd have a baby, sir," said Mulder. Skinner took one last look at Daniel before handing him back to Scully. "You guys should go." The agents nodded. "And remember . . . until this is cleared, do *not* lend me your trust." "Sir," said Mulder, leading Scully out with his hand fitting its mold on the small of her back. As the agents left, content with their small and secret family, a tear fell from Skinner's eyes. He was not happy with the pain that would soon befall them; pain that was not in his power to prevent. * * *