From: "M.K. Shisler" Date: Thu, 31 Jul 2008 19:51:26 GMT Subject: "The Impossible Choice" by Miranda Source: direct Title: The Impossible Choice Author: Miranda Rating: G Category: V Spoilers: X-Files -- I Want to Believe Summary: Mulder wrestles between his commitment to Scully and his desire for the truth. Post-Movie 2, setting up a possible Movie 3. Disclaimer: They belong to Chris Carter. But by now I think it's prett y clear he doesn't mind sharing them with us. The Impossible Choice Here I sit at this desk. My sanctuary for the past six years. Clipping m y newspaper, living vicariously through other truth-seekers and evil-fig hters. And why? Why have I been living in this house, scared of life, sc ared of death, scared of the truth and the darkness and all the things t hat I used to think I was put on the earth for? I sigh and bury my hands in my face. Again. This is meaningless. I'm s ure it would be better to be dead than to be in this limbo, impotent aga inst the darkness that hovers just outside the safety of our home, slowl y going insane from the monotony. Our home. Scully and me. We are a family. As family as we can get anyway , since the powers that be have all but erased our rights to make anythi ng of our life official. How did this happen? How did I come to be so wr apped up in her that I was willing to forfeit the fight to live here in familial comfort, kissing her with morning breath and taking out the gar bage and fighting over what to watch on TV? I know the moment my will started to falter. Well, there were other mome nts of weakness, times when I looked into her soulful blue eyes and toss ed caution to the wind. But there was a moment I knew there was no turni ng back. When she came to me and asked me to father her child. Even thou gh she meant it in a platonic way, both of us knew the implications shou ld the procedure be successful. We would be parents. Together. We would be bound by cords of DNA that would link us to each other for the remain der of our days on earth. And when it didn't work, when I had to see that disappointment in her face and those tears running down her cheeks and know that it was my fau lt that she would never conceive a child, I couldn't bear it any longe r. I was willing to give everything I had worked so hard for if it would give her the chance to be a mother. And maybe it was that fervent desir e, those prayers to a God I'm not sure I know that caused the miracle.= Whatever it was, that night in my apartment when she fell asleep on my couch, looking so beautiful and devoted to my cause with such a quiet pe ace that I couldn't resist my baser instincts any longer -- that nigh t of togetherness created the life within her that she deserved to know.= And it created in me the need to protect her and our son. To shield her from harm rather than pull her by the hand into the center of all that is evil and dangerous in this world. Because that is what I'd been doi ng for seven years before that night. Urging her into my fight with evil , using her obvious love and loyalty to me to manipulate her into doing what served my purposes -- or at least the purposes of my quest. That night I was faced with the truth. Not the truth I'd been seeking of aliens and conspiracies and things that hide in the darkness, but the truth I had avoided since the moment my hand had clasped hers and my he art had skipped a beat at the attraction I felt. That night I had to con fess to myself and to God and even to her (although she was asleep at th e time) that I loved her. I couldn't deny her a second more of my obli gation to take care of her and pledge myself to her as the one who loved her more than anything else in the world. But love has an untenable way of forcing a man to give up his former way s. Most of the time it's a good thing, but in our case I can't help but wonder if it ever should have happened. If she ever should have walk ed into my office. If I ever should have let things get to this, if I ev en could have prevented it. You don't always choose who you love. I do n't think I've ever got to choose. I can hear her car outside. She'll be entering our haven momentarily. I'll tease her about who's going to make dinner (even though neither of us want to eat anything I could make) and she'll try to convince m e to start that book I've been saying I should write. We'll watch TV or read until we get sleepy and we'll cuddle up together in bed, enjo ying the closeness and the refuge that comes from being with the one you love. Both of us will try not to think about the countdown to the end o f the world. We'll not speak of the things we saw for nine years toget her as partners. We'll try very hard not to picture our little boy, ou t there somewhere growing up so fast and needing more than anything two unknown parents who will find a way to save him from the invasion that i s fast approaching. But he needs to be safe. It's not about us anymore, it's about Willi am. How will I convince Scully to give up this life we've been living for so long? How will I go without her if she chooses to stay, as I almost h ope she will? I go to the window, watching her exhausted form as she gathers up her th ings from the backseat and heads to the front door, unaware of the dange rous thoughts I've been thinking. It's time we had a talk.