From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Sun, 13 Apr 2008 22:24:52 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: Daughter of Mine 5: Connection (1/1) by bellefleur
Source: direct

Reply To: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com


TITLE: Daughter of Mine 5: Connection
AUTHOR: bellefleur
EMAIL ADDRESS: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: sure
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: V
SPOILERS: Demons, Season 5 
DISCLAIMER: Not mine; they belong to CC, FOX, etc.
SUMMARY: Musings on family and parenthood.  

Notes: This is the fifth part in a series.  Parts 1-4 
can be found at: 
http://www.geocities.com/bellefleur1013/daughter_toc.html

Thanks to Mims for the beta.  Any remaining glitches are my 
own.

* * * * *
* * * * *

"Caution: the moving walkway is ending.  Caution: the moving 
walkway is ending."

The automated female voice prattled on, repeating her never-
ending warning as the passengers jostled along on the conveyer 
belt.  Every once in a while, there would be a lull, or other 
announcements would drown out the endless pattern, but then 
the voice would start up again, burrowing a little further 
under Mulder's skin each time.

"Caution: the moving walkway is ending."  

He looked down at his slumbering partner seated next to him in 
the stiff plastic chairs, leaning peacefully against his 
shoulder.  How she could sleep through this, he had no idea.  
Somehow, the hubbub and blare circling them like a hurricane 
didn't faze her.  

Mulder wondered if years of flying had numbed Scully to the 
chaos of airports.  They'd spent their share of time in most 
of the major hubs around the country.  The level of airport 
activity came in many different flavors.  There was the dead 
quiet of the late night arrivals (except in Las Vegas, where 
the slot machines keep up their cacophony 24-7).  The 
caffeine-driven buzz of the early morning business flyers.  
The blissfully monotonous, running-like-clockwork days.  And 
then, there were holidays--and if you were really lucky, 
holidays with major weather problems.  

This is the particular Hell that Mulder found himself in, 
masquerading as Chicago Midway.  It was the afternoon before 
the Fourth of July, and every flight on the board read 
"DELAYED" or "CANCELLED."  Babies were wailing, flight 
announcements overlapped on the PA, and every seat, pole, and 
wall space was filled with people.  Cranky, tired, tardy 
people.  

And then there was Scully.  Gazing into his partner's relaxed 
face, Mulder once again shoved away the urge to wrap his arm 
around her and pull her close.  In private, maybe she'd allow 
it.  But in public--he valued particular body parts too much 
to test that theory.  She was the eye in this particular 
cyclone, and he desperately wanted to hold on and let her 
sense of peace seep into his being.

The tension of raised voices seized Mulder's attention, and he 
looked down the row where a teenage girl was all but yelling 
into her mother's face.  He could only hear snatches of what 
she said, as her tone occasionally wafted above the general 
drone around them.

"...why can't I...she always gets to...like everybody else..."

The mother's response wasn't loud enough to be heard, but she 
was obviously trying to reason with the girl.  It was readily 
apparent how well that worked.

"You're so unfair!"  The teen pivoted on her heel and came 
storming down the aisle.  The mother looked after her 
forlornly; then the woman's eyes met Mulder's, and he realized 
he'd been caught staring.  He offered her a sympathetic smile, 
which she weakly reciprocated and then turned away.

Mulder returned his focus to the teenager just in time to 
realize she was about to blow past him, completely 
disregarding whatever was in her way.  He pulled his feet back 
a split-second before she stepped in that very spot, which 
only served to put Scully's outstretched legs directly in the 
girl's path.  She caught her foot on Scully's shoe but swiftly 
regained her stride, never pausing to look back.  Mulder 
quickly glanced down at his partner to see what damage had 
been done, wishing he'd had enough foresight to prevent the 
hit-and-run. 

As he expected, Scully was blinking in confusion.  Her boots 
were too thick for her to have felt much from the collision, 
but the jolt was certainly enough to wake her up.  When her 
eyes met his, he shrugged apologetically and said, "Teenage 
temper tantrum."  She frowned, clearly not realizing what hit 
her.  He explained what he'd just witnessed between the girl 
and her mother. 

Scully sat up straight and stretched.  "Not easy being the 
parent of a teenager, huh?"  She shot him a sideways glance 
and a teasing smile.

"Tell me about it."  Mulder wasn't sure if all the years 
leading up to the teens helped to prepare a parent for that 
phase, but he'd never had the chance to find out.  Not that he 
really felt like much of a parent.  He was more like Ginny's 
surrogate big brother, and only when it suited her.

Scully slumped back into her seat, crossing her arms and 
leaning his way--but not quite against him.  "You know, that 
could've been me."

Curious, he tilted closer to peer into her face.  "Rebellious 
streak?  And here, I thought you were always the good little 
girl."

She chuffed amusedly.  "Hardly.  At least, not when I was that 
age."  She shifted a little, inching closer to his shoulder 
again.  Her gaze wandered absently over the crowd.  "I 
remember one Easter, just after I turned thirteen, we had this 
big family gathering, and I was indignant that I still had to 
sit at the kids' table.  I was so convinced I was finally 
grown up, and that I should be treated like an adult.  It 
wasn't until years later, when I was home from college for 
Thanksgiving and saw my younger cousin do the exact same 
thing, that I realized how ridiculous I must've seemed."

Mulder sank further into his chair, bringing his head closer 
to hers.  Better to hear her over the din, or so he told 
himself.  "So, you're saying that eventually they grow out of 
it and come to their senses?"

The edge of her mouth crept up.  "Well, the girls do--I don't 
know if boys ever really grow up."  She ventured a glance up 
at him, making his glare more effective, and lost the battle 
to contain her smile.

He bumped shoulders with her to emphasize his affront but 
didn't pursue the teasing.  "Maybe the problem is, I'm the one 
who acted like Ginny was an adult, when really she's still a 
kid."

Scully sat up a little, bringing her face level with his.  "In 
many ways, she is grown up.  But she's also, in part, a little 
girl looking for a father's love.  In that respect, maybe 
girls never do grow up."

Mulder looked over at her, and their eyes met briefly, before 
Scully shifted hers away.  He sensed that statement was laden 
with personal testimony, but she offered no further 
introspection.

Stretching her arm out, Scully exposed her watch from under 
her jacket and checked the time.  "Any idea when we're going 
to get out of here?"

"Sometime before winter is my best guess."

She turned and craned her neck to examine the placard for the 
gate where they were supposed to be boarding.  Apparently 
learning nothing of value, she settled back into her seat.  "I 
hope we make it home tonight.  Mom's hosting a barbeque 
tomorrow, and I told her I'd be there to help."

"Family thing?"

"No, just some people from church.  If I'm really lucky, there 
will be some 'nice young man' there she'll try to set me up 
with."  She smiled sarcastically.

"Well, in that case, I should just book us a flight out 
tomorrow."

She smiled more genuinely, but didn't look at him.  For a 
moment, they both watched the crowds swirling around them in a 
slow, hypnotic dance.

"You doing anything for the Fourth?" Scully asked casually.

Mulder hesitated, uncertain whether she was simply making 
conversation or this was a prelude to an invitation.  "Not 
really," he answered.  "I think the guys have something 
patriotic planned--like hacking into the Department of 
Defense."

"Oh.  I thought maybe you'd have some plans with family."

"You mean, with Ginny?"

"Yeah, or..."  She crossed her legs and picked some lint off 
her pants that wasn't really there to begin with.  "I thought 
your mother might be eager to meet her.  Holidays always seem 
like a good excuse to get together."

Clearing his throat, Mulder sat up straight.  He didn't really 
want to have this conversation.  He turned and watched a plane 
taxi up to a gate.

"Mulder?  Your mother does know about Ginny, doesn't she?"

Either Scully had developed that telepathy she swore she 
didn't believe in, or she'd learned to read him too easily 
after all these years.  He flashed her a tight smile but 
didn't make eye contact.  "Not exactly."

"Mulder, this may be her only grandchild.  She has a right to 
know."

He sighed.  "I know, it's just...we haven't been on the best 
of terms lately."

"Have you seen her since...?"

She didn't complete the question, but he knew what she meant.  
After all, Scully had been with him the last time he'd seen 
his mother: when he accused her of cheating on his father, and 
then stormed out and ditched his partner.  All because of that 
hole in his head.

"No," he finally admitted.

"But, you weren't yourself.  You'd been given powerful drugs. 
I'm sure you can explain--"

He smiled at her attempt to defend him.  "I was drugged?  That 
excuse only works so many times."  His smile twisted into a 
grimace as he faced reality.  "I guess I just need to bite the 
bullet and tell her, don't I?"

"You could try sending flowers first.  That might soften her 
up."

"How do you say, 'You have a grand-love child,' in the 
language of flowers?  Or, I could send a singing telegram.  
They might come up with some good lyrics."

"You're right," Scully deadpanned.  "You should probably stick 
with a phone call."

That would be about as much fun as drilling another hole in 
his head, Mulder mused.  But Scully was right: he couldn't 
keep something like this from his mother.  

"Well, Mom was always rather fond of Deb.  Maybe that will 
make it easier.  I think she once hoped this was the girl I 
would marry and settle down with."  He briefly glanced over at 
Scully, but she was watching the crowds again.

After a long pause, she asked, "Now that you know about Ginny, 
do you ever wish... Do you ever wish that would have taken the 
other path?  That you would've stayed with Deb and been a 
family?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.  She looked over at him, 
and he steadily held her gaze.  *Because I never would've met 
you,* he thought.  *And I wouldn't give that up for anything.*  
He couldn't say the words aloud, but he hoped she read them in 
his eyes.

Something softened in her gaze before she turned away.  A 
middle-aged couple dragging wheeled luggage behind them 
maneuvered their way down the row, and he and Scully had to 
pull their feet back to let the pair pass.  Mulder's eyes 
followed them as they continued to navigate their way through 
the packed seats.

"You know, I can't imagine Ginny calling my mother 'Grandma,'" 
Mulder said.  "Somehow it just doesn't fit."

"I still have dreams about that sometimes," Scully said 
absently, so softly he wasn't sure if he'd heard her 
correctly.  He didn't think she was referring to Ginny.

Mulder wasn't sure whether to push the subject, but Scully so 
seldom opened up that he didn't want to miss an opportunity.  
"About Emily?" he prompted.

She nodded but didn't respond right away.  Eventually she 
said, "I know my family tried, but they just didn't know what 
to do with her.  How could I explain how this child existed 
when I didn't even understand it myself?"

"They would've come to accept it.  They would've loved her as 
one of their own."

"I suppose.  But I think they were relieved that they didn't 
have to--especially Bill."  She uncrossed her arms and pushed 
herself up in her seat.  "That's not fair, really.  I know 
they would've been kind to Emily, and loving.  But I'm afraid 
there always would've been this distance.  I guess that 
distance is already there with me, to some extent." 

"You know your mother loves you, no matter what."

"I know.  But that doesn't mean she'll ever stop wanting 
something different for my life, something a little 
more...domestic."

"Isn't that the nature of all parents?" he asked 
lightheartedly.

"Yeah."  She smirked at him.  "You're not going to chase after 
any of Ginny's boyfriends with a shotgun, are you?"

He winced at the very thought.  "I hope I never have to.  
Actually, I'm just trying to avoid the subject altogether.  
I'm not ready to compete with another man in her life."

Scully nodded at him and then shifted away again.  He followed 
her gaze to the moving walkway.  A young couple glided slowly 
by, trying to placate a screaming, wriggling toddler in the 
man's arms.  

After a moment, Scully gently tapped the back of her finger 
against Mulder's thigh, drawing his attention.  Looking him in 
the eye, she said earnestly, "I know Ginny may be difficult 
sometimes, but...never take the time that you have with her 
for granted."

He'd learned that lesson the hard way, with Samantha, with 
Scully.  Even with his father.  "I won't."  

He laid his hand on top of Scully's and was grateful when she 
turned her palm over to clasp his.  He expected her to pull 
away, but when she didn't, he took a chance and wove their 
fingers together.  Neither of them spoke.

The PA system blared overhead.  A baby screamed somewhere 
behind them.  The teenage girl's mother attentively watched 
the terminal, but her daughter was nowhere within Mulder's 
sight.

Scully leaned against Mulder's shoulder again.  "Wake me if 
they ever call our flight."

"'Kay."

She nestled against him--well, snuggled, really, but he would 
never dare to describe it that way to her, knowing she would 
fully deny it.  But their hands remained clasped.  He softly 
stroked her hand with his thumb.  Beneath the buzz of the 
crowd, he could've sworn he heard her contentedly hum.

After a few minutes, the teenage girl came stomping back down 
the aisle.  Mulder saw her coming in time to tuck his feet out 
of the way.  Thankfully, Scully's were already out of the line 
of fire.  The girl plopped down into the chair next to her 
mother and dramatically crossed her arms, without ever making 
eye contact with the woman.  

"Your attention in the terminal.  Flight 612 to Dulles has 
been further delayed, due to inclement weather..."

Mulder tuned out the rest of the announcement.  It didn't 
matter.  He tipped his head and rested it against his 
partner's soft crown.  There was nowhere else he'd rather be.

"Caution: the moving walkway is ending."

Well, except a couple of gates farther down the terminal.  

* * * * *
* * * * *

Notes: The good news: I finally updated this series.  The bad 
news: you may have to wait a while for another update.  
Everything I've written up to this point is kind of an 
extended prequel to a much longer story I want to write.  
Which means I need time to write it.  So, maybe I'll post it 
this summer?  I'll aim for that, but I can make no guarantees.

Oh, and if you've never had the joy of long delays at Midway, 
the walkway announcement is very real.  I did a Google search 
to verify the wording, and I couldn't believe how many blogs 
and youtube clips I found where people voiced their annoyance 
about listening to this at Midway.  Good thing you have to go 
through security first to be relieved of your weapons.


Send feedback to: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com

Find this and other stories at: 
www.geocities.com/bellefleur1013