From: Meg Nardine <onebreath12@yahoo.com>
Date: Sun, 8 Oct 2000 17:05:20 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Justifiable Conjugality 1\5 by Meg Nardine
Source: direct


Classified: MSR, Scully Angst
Rated: R for sex and language
Summary: Scully didn't know
that falling in love was the
biggest challenge of all
Spoilers: all things, Requiem
Archive: Gossamer. Anywhere 
else please ask first!
Disclaimer: Suing me would be
a bad idea. I'm 16 and broke!
Note: My friend challenged me
to write a marryfic because of
my disgust of 99.9% of them. I
tried to show the characters
as realistic as possible! This
story begins before any marriage!
Thank you for at least 
checking my story out! This is my 
first attempt at archiving any
of my work and I would love any
sort of feedback. I'm aware this 
is no leap of literary genius, but
I think it does Mulder and Scully
justice. And I'd like to thank
Jennifer, without you, I'm lost.
ME: onebreath12@yahoo.com

JUSTIFIABLE CONJUGALITY: 1\5 Chapters 1-6
I felt like I was trapped in a vice. It 
pinched my head and my feet until my body 
ached. My eyes fluttered open, revealing the 
dim reality around me. Not a vice but rather 
a leather couch awkwardly supported my head. 
I rubbed my sore neck, swinging my legs out 
and locating the hardwood floor with my feet. 
With a yawn I pulled myself up, instantly 
missing the warmth of Mulder's knit afghan. 
 The little sprinkle of light came from 
underneath his bedroom door. I used the tiny 
bit to safely make my way from the couch to 
the entry of his room. I slid my hand over 
the oak door, then found the brassy knob. As 
I pushed my way in with one hand, I lightly 
knocked with the other. 
 "Mulder?" I whispered.
 He was laying on his back, the covers up 
to his chin. "Hey Scully." 
 A digital clock was next to the bedside 
lamp: 1:12. "I'm going to go." I started to 
close the door. "Thank you for letting me 
sleep." 
 "Goodnight." He resumed staring at the 
ceiling above his bed. 
 I smoothed down the wrinkles in my suit 
and slipped my pumps onto my throbbing feet. 
Chance. Fate. Choices. The conversation we had 
before I had apparently eased into blissful sleep 
haunted me as I walked down the hall toward 
the apartment elevator. I reached out to 
press the down button and when I did, a 
slight, shooting pain went from underneath my 
fingernail up to my wrist. A familiar sense 
of realization hit me. Time slowed again, 
much like it had so much in the past few 
days. I brought my hand up, but it seemed to 
take forever, as though I were immersed in 
molasses. I felt myself blink, even felt the 
blood pump through my heart and out into my 
veins. Slow, methodical. The long nail on my 
right pointer finger had broken and somehow 
sliced a hairline cut on the sensitive flesh 
under my nail. As I examined my wound the 
sound of the elevator entered the detailed 
world I was then existing in. The welcoming 
beep was long and indolent, and then the 
doors pulled apart to display a barren 
elevator. I broke concentration from my nail 
to glance at the elevator, even felt my foot 
step forward. Then the slow realization 
stopped. Everything halted. My foot hovered 
in midair and the beads of crimson blood 
lingered. Fate. What did this mean? I had to 
read this well. I had to. My nail hadn't been 
flimsy and certainly hadn't been razor sharp. 
So, what does this mean? I nodded my head, 
even let myself exhale. And as my body 
discovered normal time, so did the events 
around me. The chrome doors slammed shut, 
missing my foot by a sliver. The street 
sounds floated up through the lone window at 
the end of the hall. Everything was back to 
normal, and I knew what I had to do. Go back 
to Mulder's and get a Band-Aid.  


 I followed him into the tiny bathroom 
and watched as he rummaged through the 
medicine cabinet. He located the box of 
bandages behind a pile of packaged condoms. 
He tried to cover the embarrassing stash with 
one hand as he handed me the box with the 
other. The condoms sent me into euphoric 
realization much like the elevator button 
had. I thought about how there were so many 
things in Mulder's apartment that I didn't 
know about. The condoms. Where he hid those 
porn magazines, put the toilet paper or 
detergent. If he has detergent. 
 He closed the cabinet and took my hand 
in his, studying the wound like an 
experienced doctor. Quiet, he unwrapped the 
Band-Aid from the white paper, tossing the 
trash into the sink. Mulder wrapped the brown 
bandage around my finger so that the padded 
part rested snugly on the cut.
 "Thanks." I brought my hand to my chest. 
"Mulder?" 
 "Hm?" He looked down at me with those 
hazel eyes.
 "Do you always have this much trouble 
falling asleep?"
 "Yeah, I thought you knew that by now." 
We walked out into his bedroom.
 "Have you tried different techniques?" 
My finger was throbbing. I cupped my hand 
over it, trying to ignore the pain. 
 "What do you suggest?" He crawled into 
bed, releasing a weak yawn.
 "I don't know, pills, body tensing, 
meditation, warm milk, counting backwards, 
reading before bed, counting sheep." I sat on 
the edge of the bed.
 "Body tensing?" His right eyebrow cocked 
into an upside down V.
 "Mm, yes you lay flat on your back and 
tense all your muscles, then you relax them." 
I turned toward him, watching as his 
expression changed. 
 "I'll try that." He nodded.
 I got up and turned the lamp off, 
causing the bedroom to become instantly 
black. "Goodnight." I concentrated on the 
sound of my heels on the wood floor.
 "Scully?" Mulder's voice in the dark. 
"What did you mean by meditation?"
 "The usual. Imagining you're in a field 
of flowers or the top of a mountain or 
something."  
 "How do you do that?" He asked. Okay, 
let's review your options, Scully. You could 
say something flippant and leave or stay. And 
staying meant risking. And risking meant 
truth. Stay.
 "I can help you." I found my way to his 
bed, and kneeled beside it. "Get really 
comfortable and close your eyes." I 
instructed.
 "Okay." 
 "Now think about a beautiful place, a 
place that you would rather be in."
 "Like what?" He whispered.
 "I don't know, imagine a waterfall."
 "Okay."
 "Fixate on the details, the sound of 
water hitting rocks, the smell of new spring 
flowers, the cool air. Are you picturing 
this?"
 "Uh huh." He mumbled.
 "Where are you?"
 "A waterfall." 
 "What do you smell?"
 "Daisies."
 "This is dangerous Mulder, you're very 
impressionable right now."
 "Uh huh."
 "So, do you promise to take your partner 
out to a very expensive lobster dinner 
tomorrow night?" I joked.
 "Uh huh." 
 I stood, content with my job. I was 
positive he was fast asleep. Before I would 
let myself indulge in listening to him snore, 
I tip-toed to the door. As I stepped out I 
heard him.
 "Come here." He grumbled.
 "What?"
 " Come to bed and tell me more about the 
waterfall and our lobster dinner."
 I took my shoes off and slipped 
underneath the covers. Being so forward was 
unlike both of us. That's what started making 
me nervous. He found my hands in the dark and 
pulled me up so that my head rested on his 
bare chest. "Tell me about the flowers." He 
laid back on the pillow, waiting. I couldn't 
speak. This unknown, unseen force that pulsed 
between us was alluding me. We didn't act 
like this. Or did we? I usually wasn't so 
quick to snuggle up to Mulder in bed. Or was 
I? Risking meant truth. 
 He fell asleep before I could think of 
any descriptions of these flowers, 
thankfully. I followed him into slumber, 
fully clothed and tightly pressed against his 
body. I dreamt of lobsters.

 

 "That would be so wonderful Dana!" Rosie 
Evers-Fallwell chirped. Her voice was exactly 
as I remembered it, sincerely ecstatic. 
 "See you tomorrow at noon then." 
Relieved, I hung up. Eight years was a long 
time. I knew that. It seemed that every 
relationship I maintained while in medicine 
severely limped when I began the X-Files. All 
but one. I had a best friend and a partner 
now, and I liked that. Knowing that there was 
someone to call, talk to, yell at. Someone to 
take the number one spot on my speed dial. I 
suppose I called my old friend Rosie because 
she's a woman. Small hands, long hair, 
lacking any sort of dangerous thoughts. I 
think we take safety for granted. 
 As I tossed my address book on a pile of 
bills, I thought about how Mulder is anything 
but safe. He's a man. A woman shouldn't have 
a man for a best friend. I forget he's a man 
sometimes. And then I spy a stash of 
prophylactics in his bathroom and fall asleep 
on his chest. A chest with perfectly placed 
sproutings of hair that I could recognize 
anywhere. Events like these lead to 
analyzing, and this time I didn't want things 
to be clear. It was the cloudiness that was 
saving us both from embarrassment. 
 A knock on my door.
 "Who is it?" I habitually poise my hand 
over the gun lying on the table. Who knew 
that paranoia had more to do with habit then 
fear?
 "Me."
 My hands relax and I walk to the door. I 
could hear my pantyhose swish on the wood 
floor as I unlocked the dead bolt.  
 He was wearing a suit, not unlike the 
ones he wears at work, but this one had a 
decent tie and absolutely no wrinkles. Scary. 
 "You're not ready." He frowned.
 "Huh?" I looked down at my white blouse 
and wool skirt. "Ready for what?" 
 "I promised you an over priced lobster 
dinner." He smiled. "Don't tell me you 
forgot?"
 "No, I just...well it was sort of a 
joke, Mulder." 
 Seemingly unphased, he said; "Well let's 
do it anyway." A casual shrug of his 
shoulders. 
 We went to this beautiful place on the 
waterfront. They seated us next to a picture 
window, a perfect view of the moon rippling 
over the Atlantic. As I skimmed the menu, I 
was waiting for the inevitable disquiet to 
appear in my stomach. The nature of this 
dinner, the proposal of it, that's enough for 
my guard to rise up. No. I was amazingly 
comfortable and Mulder appeared to feel the 
same. Just two friends out to dinner. 
 We decided to split a full lobster and 
munch on the complimentary bread. It was more 
my decision then Mulder's, he was ready to 
spend mad amounts of money on the meal. The 
progressive women in me explained that I had 
to at least save some of his money if I 
wasn't going to be paying for half. 
 We talked about work. I'm glad. It made 
the transition easier. I was worried if we 
started discussing emotional hang-ups I would 
understand that this was a date. But was it? 
After the meal we sipped on wine, of moderate 
expense, and grew quiet. Mulder watched me 
from across the table, I could feel his eyes 
on my face, my hair, my hands. 
 "Wanna dance?" He mused.
 "Sure." I surprised myself by standing 
and following Mulder onto the small dance 
floor. There were a few couples already 
waiting for the song to change. The music 
faded while Mulder and I found a spot. In 
between the two songs there was a second or 
so of silence. We stood next to each other, 
waiting. The music started up again. He 
gently pulled me toward him. I put one hand 
on his shoulder and my other found one of 
his. Our fingers locked. I felt his other 
hand on my hip, the warmth invading through 
my dress. We swayed, and I started to listen 
to the lyrics.
 "What would happen if we kissed?
  Would your tongue slip past my lips? 
  Would you run away? Would you stay?
  Or would I melt into you? Mouth to 
mouth,
  lust to lust, spontaneously combust,
  what would happen if we kissed?"
 I rested my head on Mulder's chest, 
praying that he wasn't concentrating on the 
words. I was also trying to talk myself out 
of the feelings that surged through my body. 
You're not supposed to like this, you're not 
supposed to feel this....this good. 
 Mulder leaned over and I could feel his 
cheek on mine. Danger. Pull away now, before 
I lose all reality. I pressed my eyelids 
together, but this seemed to cause even more 
dangerous visions. My arms wouldn't listen to 
me, they wouldn't push him away. I sighed, 
leaning against him even more. The music was 
fading and truthfully I didn't want it to 
end. I didn't want to risk looking at his 
face and not being able to control that 
demon. Friends aren't supposed to feel this 
way about friends. 
 The song changed into something more 
quickly paced, but Mulder and I remained 
swaying to the old beat.   

 
 The familiarity of it made me 
apprehensive. At moments things seemed 
utterly perfect. Like the pieces of a puzzle 
had fallen into place. 
 Mulder accompanied me to my door. The 
hallway was empty and cold. The light above 
had burned out so I had to fidget with the 
key to get it in the lock. He stood behind 
me, quiet, watching. I reached over and 
turned the light switch on in my apartment 
and then swiveled to look at Mulder. 
 "This is weird huh?" Mulder said. 
 "What do you mean?" I dared to look in 
his eyes. They were swimming with something I 
didn't recognize.
 "Well, it's like a date." He pulled his 
hands out of his pockets and then leaned 
forward, one hand on the doorjamb.
 "Yeah?" I swallowed.
 "So what happens next?" He whispered. 
His voice was so soft, a sort of tone that he 
uses when I'm hurt or holding back tears.
 "One of two things," I nervously turned 
the brass doorknob behind me. "If you had fun 
you kiss me goodnight and if you didn't enjoy 
yourself you say 'I'll call you sometime'." 
 Mulder's mouth puckered as he 
thoughtfully chewed on the inside of his 
cheek. I could feel the sweat beading up on 
my hairline. Nervous sweat. 
 "I had fun." He smiled. My stomach 
churned.
 "Well then..." His lips stopped my 
words. My eyes instantaly closed and my lips 
responded by kissing back. His mouth opened 
and I could feel his tounge pushing against 
my teeth. My lips parted and I was taken 
aback by the taste of him. This kiss wasn't a 
goodnight kiss anymore. He pushed me back 
into my apartment and I heard him close the 
door with his foot. I dropped my purse as he 
flung his keys over his shoulder. I wrapped 
my arms around him and decided. I decided 
that I wasn't going to be the one to stop 
this. He continued to push me backward until 
my tailbone hit something hard. I sighed into 
his mouth as I realized we were falling 
backward, vertically, on to something. My 
dining room table. He removed his lips from 
mine to find what he needed to push off. My 
laptop fell to the floor with a deafening 
thud, then followed a pile of papers and a 
ceramic bowl of fruit that shattered into 
pieces. Mulder winced as though I were going 
to get upset. I shook my head then spread my 
legs so that he could lay on top of me. The 
second kiss was better. Primal and real. I 
was doubting that he was going to stop this 
and I didn't have the strength to tell him 
to. 
 We tore at each other's clothes, quiet 
and persistent. We found a beautiful rhythm, 
so glorious that I didn't even notice the 
solid mahagony table underneath me.
 "I love you." Mulder sighed into my ear 
as we made love. 
 "I love you too." I heard myself say. 
God, it's like I had no control over my mind. 
Everything I controlled was, now, so simply 
his.
 "Marry me." He murmured. 
 "Okay."  

 
 Rosie Evers-Falwell grabbed my hands, 
moving my arms up and down with excitement. 
 "Dana! You look so wonderful! I can't 
believe it's been so long!" 
 "You look great too." We entered the 
small cafe and seated ourselves. 
 "There's just so much to talk about." 
Rosie smiled. I took a long look at her face. 
She was older, plainer, simple. She wore a 
peach sweater and tan slacks along with 
comfortable shoes. Even though it seemed to 
me that she had settled into a monotonous 
life of simplicity, she also seemed to be 
sincerely happy. 
 "Well, let's start with you. You married 
Frank Falwell?" I skimmed the menu, not 
really hungry.
 "Oh yes, we've been married for six 
years, we have three kids." Rosie beamed.
 "Three?" God things change.
 "Yes, we have the twins, Scott and Emma 
who just turned four and little Darin, who is 
two and a half." She fished a pile of 
pictures out of her purse. 
 "You don't have a ring, so I guess 
you're not married?" She asked, handing me 
the photos.
 "Married?" What was it about that word 
that made me anxious? I thought a second and 
then remembered. I could feel my cheeks blush 
at just the memory of Mulder whispering in my 
ear. "Uh...no...no I'm not married." I stared 
at a photo Rosie had given me, a picture of 
one of her sons, birthday cake streaked 
across his face. I wondered how many families 
in the world had a similar picture in their 
photo album.
 "Are you seeing anyone?" Rosie pushed 
her brown bangs away from her eyes.
 "I..I like your haircut." 
 "Thanks, I like it shorter. So? Are you 
seeing anyone?" She stirred her coffee with 
the tip of her finger.
 "No. No, not really."
 Rosie told me all about giving birth, 
leaving her career in medicine to be a stay 
at home mother, she even had time to explain 
her duties at the local church. We finished 
sandwiches at the cafe and agreed to do a 
little shopping at a nearby mall.
 "Tell me about your work Dana, I'm not 
really sure what you do." Rosie examined a 
cotton blouse on the clearance rack.
 "We investigate cases that the rest of 
the bureau considers paranormal." A dress 
hanging near the sales rack caught my 
interest. 
 "Like Ghostbusting or something?" Rosie 
giggled but I hardly noticed. I pulled on the 
bottom of the dress until it fell from the 
high hook. 
 "I'm going to try this on." I escaped 
into the dressing room, and Rosie followed 
into the next stall with a pile of sweaters. 
 It was a deep shade of red, crimson 
maybe, with black lace trimmings. The neck 
was a V shape that plunged into my cleavage 
and the skirt of it tickled right underneath 
my knees. Hmm.
 "Rosie, do you think you could come help 
me with this dress?" My short arms couldn't 
clasp it all the way up.
 "Sure." She entered my stall wearing a 
cardigan and trousers she had been trying on. 
I put my back to her, bending my head and 
holding my hair back as I waited. 
 "Oh it's just beautiful, just so 
lovely." We looked at my reflection in the 
mirror. "I just don't have any use for 
dresses like that anymore!" She grinned. I 
observed myself for a few minutes and then 
asked her to unclasp the back. 
 "Oh dear!!" She stopped at the fourth 
clasp down.
 "What?"
 "Your back!" Rosie smoothed a warm hand 
over my back. "It's got bruises all over it!" 
She turned me around so that I could view my 
back using two mirrors. It was indeed covered 
in yellowish-purplish marks. I thought it had 
been awfully sore. 
 "It's nothing." I smiled, able to 
continue undressing on my own.
 "Nothing?! Do you want to talk about 
anything?" She buzzed, her eyes worried.
 I turned toward her, trying to pacify 
her worry with a warm smile. Her expression 
changed after a few seconds into elation. She 
was laughing.
 "What's so funny?" Confused, I put my 
hands on my hips.
 "I get it!" She said between deep 
breaths.
 "Huh?"
 "You have a...a mark on your neck." 
Shit. I had forgotten that I had worn a 
turtleneck to cover the hickey halfway 
between my shoulder and neck. "I'm just 
guessing that dress is for the man that 
bruised your back last night?" This discovery 
made Rosie laugh even harder, she left my 
stall, giving me a look of understanding. She 
thought she understood what was going on, my 
relationship with Mulder.
 "She doesn't." I told myself. "I don't 
even understand it." I counted the money in 
my wallet. Just enough. 

 I was pumping with a childlike 
exhilaration, my palms sweating and muscles 
twitching. I picked the receiver up a few 
times then settled it back into the cradle. 
He hadn't called. If I called, I'd be first.
 I finally gripped the phone with pseudo 
confidence and dialed, resisting temptation 
to hang up while it rang. 
 "Mulder." He answered.
 "Mulder, can I come over?" I could hear 
the seriousness in my own voice.
 "Uh..yeah."
 I stripped off my turtleneck and slacks, 
throwing them in a pile on my bedroom floor. 
Clad only in my underwear, I dug through my 
closet and located an ancient pair of crimson 
heels. Perfect. I hurriedly cut the sale tags 
of the dress and put it on. I couldn't clasp 
it all the way. Of course. I ran out into the 
hallway of my apartment building and knocked 
on the first door. 
 "Yes?" An elderly woman came to the 
door.
 "Hi, I'm Dana Scully from across the 
hall."
 "Oh yes, the police officer." She 
nodded.
 "Sure. Do you think you could clasp this 
up for me?" I backed in toward her. She 
seemed pleased to help. 
 I couldn't get there fast enough. I 
quickly brushed my hair and applied a little 
more rouge then normal as I slipped my heels 
on. Right before leaving, I put on the 
largest trench coat I could find, it covered 
the dress up impeccably. 
 After the rush, I decided to slowly walk 
down the hall toward his door. Collect my 
thoughts, breathe. I brought my hand up to 
knock on the door but before my fist could 
touch the wood, Mulder had swung it open.
 "Hi." He motioned for me to come in. I 
stepped forward into his living room. "Want 
something to drink?" He nervously rubbed his 
hands together. 
 "I want to talk." I checked myself, 
making sure the dress wasn't peeking out of 
anywhere. Nope, I was a vision of austerity. 
Well except for maybe the shoes. I took a 
seat on his couch as he turned the t.v off. 
He sat beside me with a few inches of safety 
between us. We were silent for a few minutes, 
looking off into opposite directions.
 "Scully," Mulder began. "I'm afraid 
that...that you're going to say that last 
night was a mistake." He concentrated on his 
hands in his lap.
 "Really?" I breathed. "I was afraid of 
something too." I dragged my words out long 
and dramatic. He looked at my face.
 "What?"
 "Well, same thing I suppose." I turned 
my head and initiated eye contact. 
 "Same thing as me?" He mumbled, his 
eyebrows lifting in interest.
 I smiled and took his hand. "I was 
scared that you'd think of it as a one night 
thing."
 Mulder grinned back. I stood up and he 
followed. Biting my lip, I undid the first 
button of my trench coat. Delighted, Mulder 
put his hands up to my chest and helped me 
unbutton the next few. My mind was telling me 
that this was ridiculous, I was acting like 
someone fifteen years younger. But my heart 
cheered me on. It was like something in me 
was daring the other side of my soul to go 
crazy. I never knew inner conflict could feel 
so good. Mulder moved closer, running his 
hands through my hair as I slipped the trench 
coat off into a puddle on the floor. 
 He looked at my dress. He staggered 
backward in awe, his cheeks blushing to match 
mine. "Is that for me?" Mulder shook.
 "You could say that." I laughed. He took 
me in for a few seconds, observing every part 
of me. He made me feel naked in an amazingly 
complimentary way. 
 "I don't deserve you." A sudden energy 
seemed to hit him and he pulled me into his 
arms, kissing me hard. Kissing me like they 
do in those movies. I had never felt so 
alive, so beautiful and worthy. 
 My dress hung on the bedpost with 
Mulder's shirt on top. I liked how symbolic 
that was. I squeezed Mulder's hand to check 
if he was sleeping.
 "Yeah?"
 "Just checking." I smelled the pillow 
underneath my head. It was Mulder scent. 
 "I really love you." He turned over and 
kissed my cheek, his words warm on my skin. 
 "I really love you too." I snuggled up 
close to him.
 Ask him already. I just wanted to know. 
Had he asked me to marry him? Or was it just 
something he had said in a moment of passion? 
Ask him. Ask.
 "Mulder?" 
 "Hm?"
 "Oh, Never mind."

 
 
JUSTIFIABLE CONJUGALITY 2\5 CHAPTERS 7-14
Post Requiem
 
 My mother soundly beat me the first game 
and she would probably have done the same the 
second time around. I shielded the playing 
cards with my hands, maintaining the perfect 
poker face. 
 "Want a beer?" Mom rifled through my 
fridge, locating the bottles she had brought 
over to my apartment. 
 "No thanks." I concentrated on the cards 
in front of me.
 "C'mon you need to relax, this thing 
with your partner is stressing you out Dana." 
She slid a bottle across my dining room 
table. The infamous table. 
 I pushed the beer away. "That's not why, 
mom." 
 "Then why?" She removed the cards from 
my grip and took my hands. "You've been 
acting funny lately, maybe it's all to do 
with Mulder missing, but I want to know if 
there is something more." 
 I closed my eyes, preparing myself for 
what I needed to tell her. 
 The phone rang. Every time it rang I 
reminded myself that there was hope. Hope 
that Mulder would return to me after weeks of 
being in the unknown. 
 My mother reached over and answered it, 
one of her hands still tightly wound around 
mine. "Hello.....yes? Oh my God....Thank 
you." 
 I swallowed hard, ready for whatever she 
was about to say.
 "He's at Mercy General." 
 Mom had to drive. I felt numb and at any 
moment was liable to vomit my dinner. A 
mixture of nerves and morning sickness. It 
took forever to reach the hospital and even 
longer to find a suitable parking spot. Mom 
held my hand as we waited for the elevator, 
carefully studying my face. 
 "You're deathly pale." She said, pushing 
the correct floor number.
 "I don't feel very good." A fever 
enveloped my body and I began to wretch. 
Nothing came up but my stomach felt like it 
had been doing somersaults. Mom stroked my 
cheek and led me out onto the floor. His room 
was the absolute last in the hall. I leaned 
against Mom and tried desperately to fixate 
on memories. When Mulder and I danced, the 
two times we had made love, the last hug I 
gave him before he left for Oregon. They were 
so long ago yet not at all. He'd only been 
gone for five weeks, I was lucky. Really. But 
I hadn't seen him yet. 
 We pushed on the heavy door and passed 
his roommate in the first bed. He was right 
behind that curtain, where the doctor and 
nurse were chatting. So close. My Mom stepped 
ahead and I could see in her eyes that the 
result was pleasing. I peeked around the 
curtain and was hit with the sight of him. 
Alive and sitting up. 
 Awash with a type of relief I've never 
experienced, I pushed a nurse out of the way 
to get to him. Unaware of any tubes I hugged 
him tightly, pressing my cheek against his.
 "I've been waiting for you." He 
whispered. 
 "I've been waiting for you too." 
Suddenly I didn't feel so sick. I pulled my 
face back and kissed him. He was healthy. I 
could tell by the way he hungrily kissed me 
back. The stares I was receiving from my Mom 
and the hospital staff didn't bother me as we 
continued to kiss and stroke each other's 
faces. 
 "What happened to you?" I felt a small 
scar on his shoulder and another underneath 
his hair on the back of his head. 
 "I'm not sure. I have some memories but 
not a lot, it doesn't matter right now 
anyway." He kissed my forehead and I 
straightened up as the doctor approached. 
 "We're not positive what Mr. Mulder's 
problem is of yet, he arrived earlier this 
afternoon in a catatonic state. About an hour 
later he woke and asked for you Ms. Scully." 
The doctor patted my shoulder. "He'll be 
ready to come home as soon as we run a few 
more tests." I thanked him for his help and 
followed Mom out into the hall. She seemed 
agitated.  
 "Dana," she finally spoke. Her voice 
trembled. "Do you have something to tell me?" 
Mom dug a tissue out of her coat pocket and 
brought it up to her nose. She does that when 
she's upset.
 "Mom, I was going to tell you everything 
tonight, but then the phone call and him 
coming back, I..."
 "What do I need to know?" She wouldn't 
look at me.
 "That you should be happy for me." I sat 
on a nearby bench.
 "How long have you two been...more then 
partners?" She followed me on to the bench, 
stuffing the used tissue back into her 
pocket. 
 "Well he's always been more, Mom. But 
romantically? Not very long." The nausea 
returned to my stomach. 
 "Well, I am happy for you, I am. But I 
wish you didn't always leave me in the dark." 
She was calming down, her voice was stable.
 "I'm sorry. You're the first person I've 
told if that means anything?" 
 "I suppose." She gave a slight smile.
 "There's one more thing, Mom, and he 
doesn't know this yet." I fought back tears. 
I wanted to cry for so many reasons, most of 
all because I was happy. I could actually go 
in and see him, touch him now. Five weeks 
without him felt like years. "I'm going to 
have his baby." I looked into her eyes for a 
response. Please be glad. She was. I watched 
tears cascade down her cheeks and she grabbed 
for her tissue but erupted with excitement.
 "I thought you couldn't...Oh! Oh my!" 
Mom hugged me and then rocked back and forth 
with me in her arms. "Are you sure?"
 "Yes." I had no idea telling someone 
could feel this glorious. When I had told 
Skinner it was shadowed by Mulder's 
disappearance, but now it was filled with 
hope and promise. I couldn't wait to tell 
him. 

 My heart jumped every time she spoke to 
him. I was just waiting for her to 
accidentally tell him. Somehow she would hint 
toward my secret. I would kill her. From the 
time Mulder disappeared I dreamed of him 
coming back to me and being able to tell him 
that I was carrying our baby. If Mom took 
that away from me I would lose all control. 
 She insisted on driving us to my 
apartment after his short hospital stay. I 
agreed with the utmost hesitance. I helped 
Mulder into the back seat and was debating 
whether or not to join him or take the 
passenger seat. His eyes beckoned me. I 
climbed in next to him and told my Mom to 
pull out. Before she put the car in drive, 
she made sure to look back and give a 
reassuring wink. I didn't think it was 
possible for mom's to embarrass you after 
thirty, the things I've learned. 
 Mulder waited until Mom was intent on 
the road to throw his arm around me. I rested 
my head on his chest, savoring the rhythm of 
his heart, his low, deep breaths. Mom 
chattered about something as she steered, but 
I could only hear a persistent drone. Oh 
well. I felt myself relaxing. 
 "Did you miss me?" Mulder whispered down 
at me. 
 I sat up, rubbing my tired eyes. I 
nodded and leaned in for a kiss. "Uh-huh."
 "Has anything happened while I was 
gone?" He breathed. My mom must have heard 
him because she snorted from the front seat. 
 "Yes, things have happened." I smiled. 
Not yet, don't tell him yet. 
 Mom dropped us off in front of my 
building and gave me the tightest, longest 
hug she's ever bothered to give. "Dana, call 
me once you get things straightened out, 
okay?" I could hear the tears in her voice.
 "I will." I kissed her cheek and joined 
Mulder near the front door. We waved as she 
drove away. 
 "Alone at last." He took my hand and we 
slowly walked to the elevator. It was sort of 
comical. Mulder was suffering from fatigue, 
malnourishment and shock, while I felt at any 
moment I was going to vomit all over myself. 
And we were both trying to hide our pain.
 I instructed him to sit down at my 
table. The table. I poured him a beer and 
myself some iced tea. 
 "Scully?" He accepted the cold mug of 
Bud Lite with excitement.
 "What?" I pulled my chair over so that 
we were knee to knee.
 "Are we like, you know....a thing?" He 
couldn't look me right in the face. 
 "A thing? You could say that." I put my 
hands on his lap and waited until he resumed 
eye contact. "We are aren't we?" 
 "The only reason I lived through 
whatever happened to me is because of my 
memories of you." He lowered the beer onto 
the table and took my hands into his freezing 
fingers.
 "Well I guess you can call this a thing 
then." I pulled on his collar and brought his 
lips toward me. How had I gone seven years 
without kissing those pouty lips? We 
continued to kiss, it was getting 
progressively more passionate and warm. 
Mulder knocked the chair over as he stood. I 
wrapped myself around him, both of us 
suppressing the pain we were both feeling. 
Then my body started to revolt against me. 
The feeling of nausea hit my stomach like a 
sledgehammer. I quickly pulled away and 
jogged to the bathroom, my legs feeling like 
they consisted of jelly. I slammed the toilet 
seat up and began to vomit with wicked 
intensity. I sensed Mulder behind me and then 
his cool hands on my face. He was holding my 
hair back. The beauty of that struck me. God, 
he's beautiful. I reached for him and grasped 
to the bottom of his shirt as I finished 
throwing up. I feebly flushed the toilet and 
rocked back onto my feet. Mulder pulled me 
back onto the floor, a quizzical look on his 
face. 
 "Did you eat something bad?" He frowned.
 "Ha, no." I wiped my mouth with the 
sleeve of my blouse. Mulder bit his bottom 
lip in thought. I didn't want to tell him 
like this. I was hoping to tell him after we 
made love or over a romantic dinner. Not like 
this. 
 "Scully what's going on?" He seemed 
worried. I crawled into his arms and 
positioned my head so that I could see his 
face. I dreamed of watching his expression 
when I told him.
 "Mulder do you remember how I can't have 
babies?" 
 "Yeah." His eyebrows knit together.
 "Somehow that was reversed because I'm 
no longer barren." I smiled, waiting for this 
to sink in.
 "That's so wonderful Scully, but that 
doesn't explain....." His entire body jerked 
in realization. "Oh my God." I've never seen 
tears flow so freely from those hazel eyes. 
"I'm gonna be....you're...?" He patted my 
stomach as a last resort. He couldn't form 
anymore words. His reaction was better then I 
could've ever fantasized.
 "Yes." I got off of him and cupped his 
face in my hands, reveling in his tears. 
 "I'm going to be a daddy." He mumbled. 
"And you're going to be a mommy." 
 "Uh-huh." I kissed him, but he hardly 
kissed me back. I had put in him into even 
more shock. 
 We helped each other off the cold floor 
and into the living room. 
 "Scully, that baby is so lucky to have 
you as a mom." He said, barely coherent. 

 For awhile I've been searching for a 
definition of life. Life can be good if you 
want it to be. Life is unique. Life is short. 
But really, life is the roles we assume 
through out the voyage. Growing up I took on 
the role as peacemaker, making sure my 
siblings didn't fight. I became the strong 
one. The one that can hide my emotions so 
that the people around me can find strength 
through me. My life was defined by the fact 
that I'm a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a 
doctor and a special agent. With all those 
roles it was difficult to remember that I'm a 
woman too. I'm beginning to grasp that idea, 
feel it. I'm a woman. I'm a woman that's 
going to be a mother and a lover. It's like 
that song, I'm a bitch, a lover and child and 
a mother. And that's okay. I think I'm 
starting to like this new sense of life. Life 
is me. 
 We were at the supermarket, grocery 
shopping together for the first time. I had 
an assortment of food in the cart, along with 
three bags of sunflower seeds. I counted 
coupons and Mulder flipped through the 
magazines as we waited in the check out line. 
As I crumpled up an expired coupon, I could 
see Mulder toss something into the middle of 
the cart. A baby name book. 
 "I know we'll probably argue about it, 
so I thought we should get started early." He 
shrugged. I could only smile at his attempt 
to act non-chalant. 
 Along with grocery shopping, Mulder and 
I were doing a lot with each other. He 
unofficially moved into my apartment, 
bringing over a single item every day. It had 
been a week since he returned from wherever 
he had been, and seven of his things were at 
my place. Toothbrush, suit, shoes, gun, book, 
boxers, one more suit. I decided not to ask 
about his intentions and enjoyed waking up 
and falling asleep with him next to me. 
 After our first venture to the 
supermarket, we put the groceries away 
together in my tiny kitchen. I wondered if 
someday I could call it our kitchen? 
Something domestic stirred in me, and I asked 
Mulder what he wanted for dinner. There was a 
hint of excitement in making food for us. 
Sort of symbolic really. Spaghetti. God, can 
I remember how to make that? Mulder insisted 
on helping with the salad and garlic bread. 
Cooking together was even better. 
 I pushed the sauce in the pan with a 
spatula, waiting for it to heat up. Then a 
wave of sickness swept over me. Not now. I 
leaned against the stove handle, taking in 
deep breaths. Mulder noticed my distress and 
hugged me from behind. I moved my hand to 
release his tight grip from my stomach, but 
as I moved, I hit the sauce pan and a glob of 
luke warm tomato paste catapulted itself onto 
my chest. 
 "Shit." The nausea left me but my anger 
boiled. I learned not to cook wearing your 
favorite blouse. Stepping back, Mulder 
released me, laughing. He saw the annoyance 
in my eyes.
 "Will this help?" He tested the warmth 
of the sauce with his finger and then dipped 
his hand deep into the pan. It came out 
dripping red, he didn't even hesitate to run 
his fingers through his hair. Then, with the 
remaining goop on his hand, he rubbed his 
work shirt. "Now we're both covered." Wide 
grin.
 "That does help." I smiled, dropping my 
hand into the pan. I playfully whipped my 
fingers out and gently wiped some on his 
cheek. I challenged him. He retaliated by 
cupping sauce in his hand, and waving it 
under my nose. 
 "I'm gonna get you now." He purred. 
Excited, I ran out into my living room, 
scraping the residue from my chest to use as 
defense. He slowly walked after me, and I 
kneeled on my couch cushions, waiting. When 
he was about four feet from me, he jumped out 
and tried to grab my wrist with his saucy 
hands. I escaped his slippery grip and I 
jogged to my bedroom, leaving the door open 
as an invite. I jumped up onto my bed, 
dripping sauce as I giggled. Not for one 
second did I feel childish. Mulder peered 
around the corner of the door and then came 
in, managing to close it with his elbows. 
"You're trapped." His eyebrows wiggled. I 
trembled at the sound of his voice. 
Dangerous. He tentatively stepped toward the 
bed, and I matched his every step with a 
backward one of my own. Then he pounced up 
onto the mattress and grabbed me, wiping 
chunky sauce all over my arms and face. I put 
both hands on his face and rubbed the small 
amount I had into his cheeks. Laughing, he 
put his hands around my waist and picked me 
up over his shoulder. I playfully kicked and 
told him to let me down. I didn't really mean 
it and he knew it. The soft mattress 
underneath was becoming unsteady, so he 
stepped off of it, my body still draped over 
his shoulder. He softly let me down onto the 
bottom of the bed and climbed on top of me, 
kissing me with lips covered in tomato paste. 
I put my arms around him and licked the sauce 
from his mouth. 
 Then the phone started ringing. "I 
better get that." I squirmed out from 
underneath Mulder and up to the top of the 
bed. 
 "Hello?" I answered the phone on my 
bedside table. 
 "Dana, it's Mom." 
 "Hi, can I talk to you later?" I 
couldn't stop smiling.
 "You haven't called me since Mulder came 
back, I want to talk to you about a lot of 
things." She said. 
 "Oh." I could feel Mulder's hands on my 
back. "Do you want to get together for lunch 
tomorrow then?" His fingers moved over my 
shoulder and onto my breasts. He started 
unbuttoning my blouse. I hit his hands, but 
he didn't quit.
 "Yes, that Chinese place in the mall at 
noon." Mom huffed.
 "I'll be there." I hung up and turned 
toward Mulder.
 
 I wasn't even late. We got a table in 
the back section of the restaurant and had 
plenty of empty tables around us. I hated 
having conversations, especially the kind my 
mother was sure to start, with people all 
around me. I let myself unclench a little.
 We ordered a few dishes to share and I 
waited for the interrogation to begin.
 "Have you found a suitable 
gynecologist?" She drummed her fingers on the 
cheap tablecloth. 
 "I have an appointment tomorrow." 
 "Have you told your boss? I mean this 
does involve work, you're not going to be 
able to work in a few months." Mom rambled.
 "I'm going to work all that out, Mom, 
I'm not even three months along, there's 
still plenty of time to get stuff done." I 
looked over to my right and could see a 
waiter carrying a bouquet of flowers. He was 
headed toward me. 
 "Well," Mom didn't seem to notice the 
flowers a few feet away. "I think that you 
should...."
 "Excuse me, are you Dana Scully?" The 
waiter stopped at our table. 
 "Yes." He handed me the bouquet. There 
were twelve yellow roses with one red rose in 
the middle. Shocked, I thanked the man and 
opened the small card wedged between two 
roses. 
   "I love you. M."
 My mom grabbed the note from my hand as 
I took in the scent of my gift. How sweet. 
How perfectly mainstream of him. 
 "You've got to keep that one." Mom 
smiled, sincerely smiled. She was happy for 
me. I liked that feeling. 
 The waiter brought our food a few 
minutes later and I could hardly eat. I 
couldn't wait to get back to the office and 
thank Mulder for the flowers. Mom droned on 
about the responsibilities of motherhood but 
truthfully I was tangled up in thoughts of 
being a lover. My eyes wouldn't leave the 
bunch of flowers at my side. As I looked away 
to pick at the chicken in front of me, I saw 
a dark figure to my right. The waiter again? 
No. Mulder sauntered toward me, his hands in 
his pockets. What was happening? If it had to 
do with work he could've called me on the 
cell. I looked into my mother's face. It felt 
like she knew something I didn't. 
 "What are you doing here?" I asked. 
Mulder reached our table. He looked at my 
mother for a sort of silent approval and then 
dropped on one knee. My heart felt like it 
had stopped beating. He put his hands on my 
lap and turned me toward him. I watched him 
fish something out of his pocket. A small 
black box. Oh dear. 
 "Scully?"
 "Uh-huh?" My eyes threatened tears.
 He flipped open the box, a silver ring 
shimmered within the dark velvet. "Scully, 
there are probably two hundred reasons for us 
not to get married, and you can tell me all 
about them later, but right now will you tell 
me that you'll marry me?" He nervously closed 
his eyes.
 "Huh?" Time slowed again. For the first 
time in months. I searched myself for the 
right answer, what did I want to say. What 
did that daughter, sister, bitch, special 
agent, lover and soon to be mother all need 
to say. "I'll marry you." I heard myself 
speak. I didn't even need to think about it, 
much like that night after dinner, I couldn't 
stop it. This was inevitable. With a rush of 
love, I leapt up and Mulder followed. We 
kissed and hugged forever, my mom silent in 
the background. He slipped the ring on my 
finger, a little large, but it was the most 
beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

 
 "Honey, come over here and take a look 
at this." Mulder kneeled next to the bloody 
murder weapon.
 "What'd you call me?" I looked away from 
the evidence files, across the victim's 
living room.
 "I called you Honey." He shouted. The 
forensic investigators and fellow FBI agents 
stopped their conversations to take a good 
look out our antics. 
 Slightly embarrassed I made my way to 
Mulder's side and knelt to observe the 
butcher's knife. "The wounds on the victim 
correlate with the size of the blade, and 
notice the coagulation on the handle, this 
proves that the weapon was used 
posthumously." I said.
 "I love it when you talk dirty like 
that." Mulder grinned, poking me in the side. 
A female FBI agent snorted at hearing this, 
but I could only roll my eyes at his 
devilishness.
 We wrapped up that X-File with little 
paranormal activity and one guilty suspect 
was caught. Some cases were like that, 
lacking in any excitement. The day we met 
with Skinner about the findings of the case 
was a week since we had been engaged. I knew 
what we would have to discuss. The thing that 
had been keeping me up at nights and was a 
constant thorn in my side. My job. 
 "You know the rules, I wish they were 
different, I do." Skinner fidgeted with his 
name plate. "I just can't make an exception 
for you."
 "I understand, Sir." I hated those 
ancient marital rules that Hoover had 
established. Partners can't be married. And I 
knew that my job was in jeopardy, not 
Mulder's. I can't imagine making him leave 
the X-Files and me staying. It wasn't logical 
and I thrive on logic. 
 "Can we work together, up until the 
wedding?" Mulder looked over at me and 
smiled. For the past week all we could talk 
about, other then work, was our wedding. He 
was actually going to give me a normal 
wedding. A white dress, bridesmaids, flowers. 
He even promised an over-priced reception. 
But we were only allowing one month for 
planning, I didn't want to look like a whale 
in my wedding dress. 
 "Yes, there are no rules against engaged 
partners, but after that I need to relocate 
one of you." Skinner pulled a large binder 
from his desk drawer. "These are openings in 
the bureau, there are very few local ones. 
Most of them are from obscure parts of the 
country, like Kansas or something." He 
chuckled but Mulder and I didn't find 
anything amusing about it. 
 "I'll take a look at them." I took the 
binder from Skinner's hands. As I fit it 
between my side and armpit I hit tender 
flesh. My breasts were swollen. It's funny 
how symptoms of pregnancy can make you smile. 
I don't think there's any sickness out there 
that does that. 
 Mulder and I left the office in a somber 
mood. We both didn't want to talk about the 
fate of the X-Files or where I would go. And 
I certainly didn't want to think about him 
getting a new partner. That hurt too much. As 
we sauntered down the busy hall toward the 
elevators, a chill hit me. In an instant I 
was freezing. 
 "What's wrong?" Mulder could read my 
face.
 "I'm just really cold, it's hormonal." I 
said. 
 "Let me help." He draped his arms over 
my shoulders and then down to my waist, 
wrapped around me as we walked. The staring 
was comical really. It had already been 
spread around the Bureau that we were engaged 
and now people could watch our bliss first 
hand. Let them stare. We've never really been 
too conventional anyway. 
 So many ideas and thoughts. I laid on my 
couch in semi-darkness. It was one of the 
first times in weeks that I was able to be 
alone. I took my privacy for granted. I 
thought about the meeting with Skinner 
earlier that afternoon, the wedding three 
weeks in my future. Three weeks. I had so 
much to do. I went through a mental 
checklist. Church. Check. We were getting in 
the cathedral near our office. The only way 
we could get a reservation was if we settled 
for a week day. Friday. Mulder was taking 
care of the music and cake. My biggest 
responsibilities were the dress and guest 
list. Our guest list was pitiful. For the 
past eight years it seems that we've been the 
only other person in each other's lives. A 
small wedding was fine with me. In fact just 
the sense that I was actually going to be 
married was fantastic. Sometimes I worried 
that I was dreaming. 
 "Hey you." Mulder came in through the 
front door and turned up the lights. 
 "Hi."
 "How do you feel?" He carried a stack of 
magazines in his arms. 
 "Oh, a little queasy." Lately I had been 
discovering how wonderful it was to whine to 
Mulder. He had no idea what being pregnant 
felt like and was quite worried about me. 
Normally I'm not much of a complainer, but 
now. Well things were so different.
 "I'm sorry Baby. I got you these." He 
dropped the heap of magazines onto the coffee 
table. They were all bridal magazines. "I 
thought you could lay in bed and look at 
them." He kissed my cheek. 
 "Thanks." I sat up, sensing the weight 
growing in my tummy.
 "How about Fiona?" He flipped through 
the mail as though some would be addressed to 
him.
 "What?" I was reading the cover of 
'Bridal Monthly'.
 "If it's a girl. Fiona Mulder. It 
works." He nodded.
 "No it doesn't." I laughed. 
 
 I met Mom and Bill's wife at the bridal 
shop the next afternoon. While most brides 
would be looking forward to the dress, I was 
dreading it. Being pregnant limited my 
selection to just five. I stood on a carpeted 
pedestal while Mom picked at the lace of the 
third dress. I liked that one especially. It 
had short sleeves and a boat neck. It was 
satin, white and came down to my ankles. 
Simple but nice. The tummy pooched out a 
little, the assistant assured me that in 
three weeks my stomach would be that size. I 
modeled in front of the mirrors, taking a 
good look at every crease.
 "DANA!" A familiar voice behind me. 
Rosie Evers-Falwell clapped her hands in 
shock or maybe excitement. "What are you 
doing here!!" 
 "I'm getting married." I liked how that 
sounded.
 "No! It wasn't a few months ago that you 
told me you were single!" She chirped. "Oh, 
but there's that hickey guy." She nodded. My 
mother rolled her eyes. I don't think she 
wanted to hear about my hickeys. 
Understandable. 
 "Yeah, well..."
 "When's the big day?"
 "Three weeks from today." I kept my eyes 
on the dress. I wanted to be sure that it was 
right. 
 "Let me see the ring!" She climbed up 
onto the pedestal, dropping a shopping bag. I 
was wearing the ring on my middle finger 
because it was too big for my ring finger. 
Mulder made sure it would be big enough when 
my fingers swelled from the baby. He promised 
to size it down once the baby came. Rosie 
pawed at it. It's silver with two diamonds in 
the center. I'm not sure of the karat size. 
Engraved on the inside is "I Trust You." No 
one but Mulder and I know that. I swore to 
myself that it would only come off of my hand 
when absolutely necessary. After we sized it 
down it would never come off.
 "Are you having a bachelorette party?" 
Rosie beamed.
 "I don't think so."
 "Nonsense! I'm going to hold one for 
you!" Her energy amazed me. "I'll call all 
our friends from medical school and we'll 
have it at your place, K?"         

 Rosie knocked on my door an hour before 
the party. She brought in bags of food and a 
few cases of beer, not to mention three 
bottles of cheap wine. 
 "We're gonna have fun tonight, yes sir!" 
I hadn't told her that I was pregnant and was 
trying to figure out the nicest way to tell 
her that I couldn't drink. Mulder and I 
decided to keep the pregnancy low key until I 
was obviously showing. 
 "Oh, I invited Carla, Angie, Vanessa. Do 
you remember Vanessa? She's married now too, 
how the years pass huh?" Rosie unloaded the 
food onto my coffee table. "Do you have a dip 
bowl?"
 I searched my cabinets for a ceramic 
bowl, blowing the dust off it before Rosie 
poured the chip dip in. 
 "Hey, you must be Rosie." Mulder entered 
the kitchen.
 "Oh! It's so nice to meet you!" She 
enthusiastically shook his hand. "You know, 
there are no boys allowed here tonight." 
Rosie giggled. 
 Mulder pushed out a laugh. "I'm leaving, 
trust me." He grabbed my wrists and led me 
out to my front hall. "Try to have some fun 
okay?" He whispered, slipping on his trench 
coat. 
 "Where are you going to be?" I nibbled 
on a saltine cracker. 
 "My place. I thought I'd pack up some 
things to bring over here. I also need to 
talk to the landlord." He gently kissed my 
forehead. "I'll be back in a few hours, don't 
ransack the place." He smiled.
 "Yeah, I bet." 
 "Dana! Come set up the Scrabble board 
for our tournament!" Rosie's chipper voice 
seeped out into the hallway. 
 I mouthed the words 'Help me' but Mulder 
walked away, laughing. 
 It wasn't too bad once everyone was 
there. Mom came with Bill's wife and 
Charlie's girlfriend. I spent most of the 
time catching up with my friends from medical 
school. A few of them had even been my 
students when I had spent those two years 
teaching for the medical section of the 
Bureau. There was eleven of us all together, 
and my small apartment felt even smaller. 
 "Presents!!" Rosie instructed us all to 
the living room, where a heap of wrapped 
gifts waited for me. Most of them were casual 
things like bubble bath, coffee mugs, typical 
things. I sort of liked feeling typical. 
Rosie's gift was last. I tore the floral 
paper back and opened the box. It was red and 
skimpy and lacy and nothing I'd ever think of 
wearing. It even came with some sort of 
garter belt. All the women, even my mother, 
clapped and laughed while I held it up. Now 
that's typical. I thanked Rosie for the 
lingerie, thinking about Mulder's reaction if 
I actually wore it. Ha. I tucked it 
underneath me, feeling a sudden heaviness on 
my bladder. It was like someone suddenly 
jumped on it. 
 "Excuse me." I quickly made my way to 
the bathroom and locked the door. With all 
these people it was almost inevitable that 
someone would walk in. I pushed my slacks 
down and sat on the toilet, relieved to 
appease my bladder. Thoughtful, I looked down 
and saw something disturbing. Blood. Must 
have my period, still on the toilet I leaned 
over and opened the drawer that holds my 
tampons. Oh my God. Fear suddenly took over 
me. No. I looked down again, maybe I was 
mistaken. Blood was pouring out and a pain in 
my lower abdomen was increasing. I leapt up, 
in shock, checking the toilet bowl. Oh my 
God. The pain wrenched my ovaries, causing me 
to drop to the cold tile. 
 "Dana are you okay?" My mom lightly 
knocked on the bathroom door. I couldn't 
talk, I wanted to say something. I wanted to 
scream. I coughed, a sad excuse for words, 
and put my hands to my crotch. The blood just 
kept coming, flowing out onto my hands and 
onto the floor. 
 "Dana?" It sounded like Mom was light 
years away. I could feel myself losing 
consciousness but fought to stay awake. The 
pain ceased for a few short seconds, so I was 
able to climb into my tub. Somehow I had let 
myself worry about the mess. But if I worried 
about what was really going on I would stop 
breathing. I laid my head down, concentrating 
on the streaks of blood on the inside of the 
bathtub. 
 "Ma?!" The horrible pain stopped for a 
few seconds again.
 "What's going on? The door's locked!" 
Mom sounded worried. 
 "Get Mulder, please, get him." I grabbed 
my stomach as I convulsed in agony. 
 "Dana!" She started pounding on the 
door. 
 "Mulder! Please!" I screamed. 
 "Where is he Dana, where?" I think she 
was beginning to cry. I wish I hadn't locked 
the door. 
 "One on the speed dial." I waited for 
maybe a few minutes, I was too busy hurting 
to tell time. 
 "He didn't answer." Mom wept through the 
door. "What's going on?" 
 I didn't answer her. I was learning that 
I had a few seconds between every convulsion 
to speak or move. I tore at my back pocket 
and brought out my cell phone. I pressed his 
cell number. 
 "Mulder." He spoke.
 "Mulder, Mulder you got to..." I dropped 
the phone as my ovaries seemed to beat 
against my stomach. 
 "Hello? Scully?" I could hear him. I 
grabbed for the phone and held it to my ear. 
"Scully?" 
 "Come home, I'm in trouble." My energy 
was waning and it took everything out of me 
to finish a sentence. Was this hell? 
 "I'm on my way right now, what's wrong 
Scully?" He was trying to cover the fear in 
his voice but I could hear it. I could also 
hear Mom and some others pounding on the 
door. 
 "Just keep talking, say anything, just 
don't stop talking." I bit my lip as the 
misery surged through my body.
 "Talk, okay, I'm on Michigan Avenue and 
I'm about four miles from your place. Our 
place. And, and we're getting married in a 
week and a half. We're having lobster at the 
reception and a live band. Okay I'm about 
three miles away, are you going to tell me 
what's going on? Are the other women there 
with you?" 
 "Keep talking." And then things went 
gray for awhile. Gray not black. I could 
still feel the anguish in my abdomen and 
could faintly hear Mulder's voice, though I 
have no idea what he was saying. And then the 
door was thrust inward. I slowly opened my 
eyes and could see Mulder and Mom standing 
over me. Mom was crying, but Mulder, I 
couldn't read his face. I didn't have the 
energy to.
 "Get a blanket for her." He put his arms 
around me and picked me up put out of the 
tub, I could feel dried blood on my inner 
thighs and some dripping down to my feet. 
Someone handed Mulder the afghan from my 
couch and he wrapped me in it. I wanted to 
tell him that I was warm and didn't need it 
but I couldn't form the words. Then my body 
felt like it was floating, Mulder brought me 
up into his arms. He was carrying me. 
 "You're gonna make it, I'm here now." 
Mulder said over and over, I felt him take me 
down the stairs, he didn't even wait for the 
elevator. 
 "Blood everywhere." I whispered as the 
night air hit my face. We were outside and 
then everything went black. Black not gray. 

 It's a horrible feeling to wake up in a 
strange place with no one around. I noticed a 
tube in my arm and could hear the familiar 
buzzing of hospital machines. I licked my 
lips, they were so dry, and coughed. It felt 
like the dust bowl in my throat. I looked 
toward the window and analyzed the sunlight. 
I figured it must be morning. The sun looks 
new in the early part of the day. A slight 
pain in my side felt common somehow. As 
though I had felt it before. Something was 
wrong, I could feel it in my heart.
 "You're up." Mulder entered the hospital 
room, a candy bar in his hand. 
 "Yeah, why am I here?" I tugged at my 
covers, I was too warm to stay underneath 
them. 
 "I brought you here last night." He sat 
beside me, his eyes on the candy bar wrapper. 
Something was wrong. 
 "I don't really remember." I rubbed my 
eyes.
 A doctor came in holding a clipboard. 
"Dana, how are you feeling?" He felt my 
forehead. "You're a little feverish." He sat 
on the edge of the bed. 
 "Can you tell me what's going on?" I was 
desperately trying to search my mind for 
answers.
 "How many months along?" The doctor 
poised his pen over a piece of paper.
 "Huh? Oh almost four." I patted my 
belly. 
 "I'll tell you both that this a part of 
my job that I dislike very much," the doctor 
scribbled something on the paper and looked 
at Mulder and I. "There is no reason for it, 
but these things happen."
 "What are you talking about?" I heard 
the fear in my own voice. I looked over at 
Mulder. It looked like he knew what was 
coming. I didn't understand. 
 "Dana, it's called spontaneous 
abortion." The doctor said. 
 "I don't...I don't understand, you're 
not making any sense." I shook my head. 
Mulder stood and took my hands.
 "Scully, the baby's gone." I watched a 
tear fall from Mulder's eye and trail down to 
his chin.
 "What? No, no you're wrong. It's a 
mistake, really, you're wrong." I gripped 
Mulder's fingers until they turned beet red. 
 "I'm sorry, I know this must be 
horrible. But, now it's time to discuss your 
health." The doctor suggested, but I could 
hardly hear him. I couldn't feel anything. My 
heart was racing and I thought I might vomit. 
 "Mulder, tell him he's wrong, I'm 
pregnant." I pleaded.
 "Honey, it was an accident, it happens. 
The baby's gone okay?" He leaned over and 
hugged me. His cheek was against mine. This 
was real. I wasn't dreaming. I shook as 
reality settled into my soul. I had never 
felt so empty. I clawed at Mulder's back, 
crying along with him. The doctor left us for 
a few minutes to collect ourselves. I 
couldn't gather myself. For my entire life 
I've been able to maintain composure and stay 
calm. But now I was a wreck because this 
really mattered to me. My baby and Mulder 
mattered more to me then my job or strong 
exterior. And for the first time I understood 
that some of our roles are more important 
then others. And it was like I had let Mulder 
and my baby down. Logically I knew this was 
untrue, the miscarriage was a natural event 
that occurs when the baby just isn't right 
for the world. I knew that. But I couldn't 
help feeling like it was my fault. When 
something so devastating happens inside your 
own body, the fact that you are involved 
stays in your mind. 
 "You know this isn't your fault." It was 
like he could read my mind. 
 "I know, I know." I wiped snot from 
under my nose. 
 "We're going to get through this." 
Mulder inhaled deeply as he squeezed my hand.
 I can't really describe what was going 
through me. There were so many conflicting 
ideas and of course the dull pain. The doctor 
explained that a miscarriage was much like an 
extremely heavy menstrual period. I would 
bleed heavily for about a week and the 
vicious cramps would be off and on for about 
the same amount of time. I was getting 
married in a week and a half. Married. God, 
it felt like my life was falling apart and I 
had a huge party to plan. 
 Mulder helped me out of the hospital 
bed, and it was the first time I noticed the 
blood stained into his work shirt. I stood on 
wobbly legs and waited as the doctor removed 
the Morphine dripping tube from my arm. I was 
leaving against the doctor's recommendation, 
but all I cared about was crawling underneath 
my own covers and sleeping until the pain 
drifted away. I went into the bathroom and 
slipped off my hospital gown. There was dried 
blood all down my legs. A shower once I got 
home. Cleanse myself of the memories as well. 
Mulder hadn't been able to go home and get 
new clothes, so I had to put on the crusted 
panties and slacks. It was amazing to me how 
methodical I was doing everything. I actually 
thought about putting my pants on as I did 
it. I concentrated on opening the door, 
walking down the hall. It was easier to do 
that. It was easier because then I didn't 
have to think about the baby I lost. I lost. 
Or look in Mulder's disappointed eyes. God, 
he must hate me for losing our baby. I hated 
myself. 
    
 I think that afternoon was the most 
awkward I'd felt around him. Before 
everything felt right and at peace and then, 
like so many times before, fate threw 
something at us. I've always wondered if God 
created these conflicts and enjoyed watching 
us struggle. Like young children who torture 
insects. We were both quiet, communicating 
with our eyes and hands. He wouldn't let go 
of me, and if he did it was to get something 
for me. We laid in bed for hours, awake and 
thinking. I was worried that my heavy blood 
flow would seep through the pad and out onto 
Mulder, but he didn't seem to even think 
about it. He just held me and kissed my 
cheeks and forehead. I wanted desperately to 
get up and prove that I wasn't hurting. It's 
tough to prove a lie. I'm not sure what was 
worse. The physical pain or the emotional 
turmoil. I thought about how things had to 
change now. How the feelings I was getting 
used to were going to go away. God, I loved 
looking at Mulder and knowing that I was 
holding something we had created together. 
That baby was a symbol of not only our love 
but our eight years of partnership. And for 
some unknown reason that joy was taken from 
me. 
 I sat up in bed, rousing Mulder from 
deep thought. I wished I could hear his 
thoughts. What did he think of me? Of all of 
this? In some ways I wanted to know, but 
another part of me was too frightened to hear 
what the truth may be. 
 "Where you going?" He stopped me by 
grabbing my shoulders.
 "I've just got to get rid of 
everything." I ignored his confused look and 
the throbbing cramps as I opened my closet 
door. The box of baby related items was down 
on the bottom, near my shoes. I dragged it 
out and sat on the carpet. Mulder joined me.
 "What are you doing, Scully?" He 
frowned. 
 I pulled the baby name book and the 
yellow booties Mulder had bought on impulse 
because they "made him think of our baby" 
from the box and put them next to me. "We've 
got to get this stuff out of here, I don't 
want to look at them." I looked into his eyes 
for the first time since I had lost the baby. 
Deep and pure. They were worried. 
 "Hey, what are you talking about? We're 
gonna need this stuff later on." Mulder 
brushed a hair off of my eyelid. 
 "No, no, this was our only chance, I 
know it, I'll go have a test and they'll tell 
me I'm barren, I know. I lost it and there 
isn't going to be another one." With a burst 
of energy I grabbed the things and made my 
way to the kitchen trash. Mulder followed me. 
Couldn't he just leave me alone? Didn't he 
understand how much I had ruined everything? 
Nothing was ever going to be all right. And I 
thought the world would never end.
 "You've got to calm down Scully, I know 
how you're feeling. This happened to me too." 
He said, digging the book and booties out of 
the trash. I liked how the booties sat in his 
hand. So small. 
 "Could you maybe leave?" I casually 
picked at my sweatshirt. 
 "What?"
 "Go to work or something, I need to be 
alone for a bit." Truthfully I knew why I 
wanted him gone. I wanted him away from me 
before I showed him my every weakness. He had 
seen too much of my pain and I didn't want to 
reveal anymore. 
 "Okay." Slightly pissed I think, he 
grabbed his car keys from the dining room 
table. He swung open the front door and 
stepped out then turned. "I love you, you 
know that right?"
 I only nodded my head. 

 So then I let myself be weak. Not just 
crying but I wallowed in self-pity. I was 
beginning to hate myself even more as the 
seconds passed. I paced the length of my 
apartment, biting on my nails and thinking. 
Thinking so much my head hurt. A few hours 
went by and I heard the key in the lock. He 
was coming in the door and I didn't know how 
to receive him. He was holding a huge garment 
bag. 
 "What's that?" I stirred my hot tea.
 "I saw you looking at it in one of those 
magazines." He unzipped it down the center. 
It was the wedding dress I had been lusting 
after for weeks. "Now you can wear whatever 
you want, and I wanted you to have it." He 
shone with pride. 
 "Mulder I...."
 "You can try it on later, I guessed your 
size."
 "Mulder,"
 "You don't like it?"
 "Mulder I don't think we should get 
married."   

 He laid the dress on the table and sat 
down across from me. He put his face in his 
hands and rubbed his eyes. He said nothing. 
 "Mulder, I just think it would be best 
if we didn't get married." 
 "Why were you going to marry me?" He 
asked.
 "For a lot of reasons, but now there are 
reasons not to." I wrapped my hands around 
the warm mug of tea. 
 "You're giving up." It was more of a 
statement then a question.
 "I'm not...It's just that Mulder I can't 
explain it." 
 "Did you ever love me? Or were you 
marrying me because I knocked you up?" He 
stood and pushed his fists down onto the 
table. 
 "Don't be stupid." I got up and held my 
hand over my stomach, almost as though it 
would stop the pain.
 He observed my face for awhile, and I 
stared back. His lower lip quivered which 
made my heart ache.
 "Not getting married isn't going to help 
anything." He swallowed hard. "So what's the 
reason? Why don't you want to marry me?" 
 "I want to marry you." I leaned against 
the table for support. My ovaries felt like 
they were playing the drums. "I don't think 
you should marry me."
 "What?" Mulder cocked his head to the 
side.  
 "Look at me. I'm a mess and I lost our 
baby. I failed at being a mother..."
 "And you're worried that you'll fail at 
being a wife." He walked toward me, a curious 
look on his face. 
 "Well, actually that's right." I said. 
He put it in words that I couldn't form. 
 He smiled. "We lost the baby, you 
didn't. It's no one's fault. As a doctor you 
know that." He cupped my face with his hands. 
"You haven't failed as a mom, you haven't had 
a fair chance to be one." He hugged me tight. 
"And I won't let you get out easy. You're 
marrying me in a week and a half." 
 "You're forcing me?" I cracked a smile.
 "Definitely, even if I have to carry 
you."
 Some issues were resolved, some weren't. 
Mulder and I hugged for a long time, talking 
about our wedding. Then he insisted I take a 
bath and try on my new wedding dress. It had 
a tea length skirt and the top was sleeveless 
with a V-neck cut. It was white cotton and 
lace, quite simple, but I was in love with 
it. I didn't wear it long because I was 
worried about leaking through, I prayed that 
my heavy bleeding would disappear before the 
big day. And there was something else in the 
back of my mind. Since Mulder had come back 
everything was babies and wedding and love. 
But I was truly disturbed by what happened to 
him. There were a few scars on his neck and 
back and the one on the back of his skull. He 
had told me that he had some memories but he 
never said about what. Sometimes at night I 
would wake and find him sitting up, saying he 
had a bad nightmare and I shouldn't worry. 
That was an issue that I felt was very 
unresolved.     

 

JUSTIFIABLE CONJUGALITY 3\5 CHAPTERS 15-20
 The sound of ringing woke me from deep 
sleep. Sleep full of dreams. Good dreams. I 
rolled over and put the phone to my ear. 
 "Did I wake you?" Mom's voice.
 "Yes." The clock read 5:58 AM.
 "Good, you've got to be at Amber's by 
eight." She was chewing on something while 
she talked. "I'll meet you there." 
 "Bye." It took me a few times to get the 
phone positioned correctly on the base. I 
inched over to Mulder, who snored softly into 
his pillow. 
 "Wake up." I whispered into his ear as I 
poked his cheek with my finger. 
 He grunted something and then his eyes 
shot open. "What time is it?" He yawned.
 "Six." I snuggled up next to him and he 
threw his arms around me. 
 "We have seven hours left, Scully." He 
kissed my left temple. 
 "Seven hours of freedom." I sighed. 
"Say, isn't there a rule about seeing me 
before the ceremony?" I crawled up on top of 
him, straddling his legs.
 "Do we follow rules?" He chuckled, an 
honesty in his tone. I leaned over and kissed 
him, not even aware of our morning breath. 
With Mulder, morning breath seems trivial 
somehow. I ran my hands over his chest as we 
kissed and got that familiar sensation in my 
heart and body. We hadn't made love in weeks, 
the doctor had said that we should wait a 
week after the incident to do anything and 
the past few days had been so hectic we 
hadn't much time to kiss. But I wanted to 
wait for that night. I quickly got off of him 
and skipped into the bathroom. Skipped. I 
wasn't sure if I liked this person Mulder 
brought out in me. This person giggled and 
skipped and flirted. Well, I'd give this part 
of me a chance. I ran myself a shower and 
spent more time then usual bathing. I shaved 
my legs and armpits, scrubbed my hair a few 
times. 
 I met Mom and the other ladies at Amber 
O'Myers house in Quantico at eight on the 
dot. Amber was a life time friend of 
mother's, that remained close even when we 
were constantly moving around. Mom was quite 
pleased that she lived near Amber now. Amber 
was a hairdresser her entire life and had 
bright red, crimped hair. She was the 
quintessential Irish lass with a big mouth 
and flashy clothes. She was designated as my 
hair and makeup expert. Honestly, that scared 
me a bit. 
 We all went back to Amber's home studio 
and I sat in a raised barber chair. She put a 
finger to her mouth as she studied my hair 
and face. "You aren't gonna have a veil 
then?" She sipped on a cup of coffee.
 "No veil." I watched my mom hover in the 
background. She had this sort of complex look 
on her face. I couldn't read what she was 
thinking and wanted to. 
 Amber fluffed up my hair a little after 
we added some more red shading. I was quite 
happy with the makeup job as well. My eyes 
were much more dramatic then I'm used to, 
with reddish brown eye shadow matching my 
hair. Vanessa worked on my toenails and Angie 
applied polish on my fingernails while Mom 
called the caterer and made sure everything 
was in place. It's much like Mom to take 
control for her grown children. That quality 
was instilled in me. We took a break from 
primping to eat a light, early lunch. I liked 
how the day was going. The sun was bright in 
the sky and everyone seemed to be in a happy 
mood. That's all I wanted, happiness and fun. 
 The ceremony began at one o'clock, so I 
wanted to be there by twelve thirty. I took 
of the work shirt I had stolen from Mulder's 
side of the closet and everyone assisted in 
helping me with my gown. I didn't need much 
help but it seemed that everyone wanted to be 
a part of it. 
 "How 'bout something old, new, borrowed 
'n blue?" Amber suggested. 
 "I completely forgot." I shook my head. 
So many things to remember. 
 "I didn't." Mom opened her purse. She 
handed me a small plastic bag. A blue garter, 
a pair of seemingly diamond earring studs and 
a matching necklace. "Blue, and the earrings 
are old and borrowed and the necklace is 
new." She smiled for the first time all day. 
I thanked her, slipping the earrings into my 
almost completely closed ears. Before we left 
Mom and the others took plenty of pictures. I 
could finally understand that Mom was happy 
for me. She kept telling me how beautiful I 
looked and how lucky Mulder was. Of course 
she called him "Fox". 
 I think what kept me from going insane 
was the fact that I knew this was the right 
thing to be doing. I wasn't nervous at all, 
and that means something. The only thing I 
worried about was Mulder running away. I had 
this small voice in the bottom of my soul 
scaring me with the idea that he wouldn't 
show up. I knew he would. I knew he loved me. 
 Time buzzed by and I found myself arm in 
arm with my brother Bill, waiting for the 
music to start. I heard the organ and my 
heart sped up. The large doors opened and my 
few bridesmaids, wearing their choice of 
dresses, marched behind my niece, who 
sprinkled rose pedals onto the red carpet. 
Then my turn came. I couldn't see Mulder yet, 
so I concentrated on  my footing. Don't trip, 
don't trip. I looked from side to side, a 
good look at our guests. Only about the first 
six rows were filled, but I couldn't care 
less. I could see Mulder now. He stepped 
toward Bill and I, just like in rehearsal, 
and shook my brother's hand. Then Bill took 
my hand and placed it in Mulder's. Mulder and 
I walked the last few feet together and 
stepped onto the platform with the Reverend. 
We waited as the music came to a stop. I 
could see that Mulder had round up three best 
men. Frohikie, Langly and Byers were misfits 
in all that beauty. But then of course Mulder 
and I were too. I handed my small bouquet of 
yellow flowers to my matron of honor, Bill's 
wife. I then dared myself to look at Mulder. 
I was trying to avoid it, there was a well of 
joyful tears waiting for any sort of moment 
to arise. He was wearing a classic tuxedo and 
his hair was as though he just crawled out of 
bed, in a cute way. 
 The Reverend talked about how friendship 
is the best beginning to romance. Mulder and 
I had taken that to an extreme. I knew he was 
my soul mate before I even thought about 
being his lover. That was the amazing aspect 
of our relationship, it didn't matter if we 
were making love or working on a case. It 
just mattered that we were together. Then the 
Reverend spoke about everlasting love and how 
it is the truest form of honesty. He then 
handed Mulder a ring, silver to match my 
newly fitted engagement ring, and had him 
repeat the typical wedding vows. 
 "...promise to obey you." Mulder smiled 
at this, and I grinned back. It was sort of a 
secret joke. He'd always obeyed me. After 
Mulder swore his undying love he slipped the 
ring on my finger and kissed my hand. This 
made me think of my childhood. How I, like 
every other girl, had dreamed of the perfect 
wedding. I didn't know that it had more to do 
with the perfect man rather then the right 
dress. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting 
those desperate tears. 
 It was my turn. I took the ring from the 
Reverend and clutched it  tightly in my hand. 
 "...to cherish and love...." This is 
happening. I had this moment of intense 
awakening like I was being sucked into a 
vortex. It reminded me of the time I had 
knelt before the statue of Buddha and my 
heart had exploded, telling this tale of my 
life. A sort of near death experience. But my 
physical body wasn't dying, a part of my 
emotional self was leaving me. I didn't know 
which part, but something new was coming to 
fill it's void. I slowly repeated the 
Reverend's words and then slipped the ring on 
Mulder's shaking finger. 
 "I now pronounce you husband and wife." 
Mulder wiggled his eyebrows, his gaze never 
once leaving mine. "You can now kiss your 
wife." Mulder hesitated, as though the words 
had hit him odd in some way, and then leaned 
over, placing his lips on mine. We kissed for 
a few short seconds and then pulled away, 
facing the congregation of our friends and 
family. They all clapped as the Reverend 
said; "It is my honor to present for the very 
first time, Mr. And Mrs. Fox Mulder." 
 I've heard people say that the reception 
is a lot more fun then the actual ceremony. I 
couldn't say because I had two completely 
different types of fun that day. Our 
reception was perfect in it's simplicity. 
Each table of four was given a huge lobster 
to share along with other foods. Our wedding 
cake was a vintage three tier with "Best 
Wishes Mulder + Scully" printed on top with 
frosting. It struck me that Mulder and I 
called each other by our last names and had 
no intention of changing that. I liked that 
feeling. Being different but being quite 
normal at the same time. 
 While we ate our dinner, Mulder 
surprised me by clinking his fork against his 
wine glass. He was calling a toast. He stood 
and waited until everyone was quiet. 
 He pulled a piece of paper out of his 
coat pocket. I had no idea. 
 "I'd like to start this toast by 
remembering the people that can't be here. 
William Scully wasn't able to walk his 
daughter down the aisle," Mulder rested his 
hand on my shoulder. "Both of my parents are 
deceased, along with both of our sisters." He 
stopped at this, inhaling and exhaling to 
calm himself. I put my hand over his, urging 
him to continue. "But I want to thank you all 
for coming and supporting us. And I'd like to 
read something to Scully." As he turned the 
paper over, Frohikie hollered something from 
the crowd, already drunk. 
 "I've thought about our eight years 
together and how you've been my best friend 
and finally my wife. I want to say that my 
time spent with you from the minute we met to 
now has been the best part of my life. It 
just got better when we became involved." I 
noted a twinkle in his eye. He was thinking 
about that night on my table. That made me 
think about it too. How it was something only 
he and I shared, like all our kisses and 
words and laughter. Just ours. "We've been 
through a hell of a lot and I just want to 
thank you for believing in me when no one 
else did and loving me when I didn't even 
love myself. I hope that our marriage is as 
successful as our partnership has been." He 
laid the paper down on the table as the crowd 
clapped and cheered. "So I want everyone to 
drink on our behalf." He laughed, then raised 
his glass, everyone took a good, long sip.
 There was an enormous dance floor next 
to the dining area, with a DJ and a disco 
ball hanging from the ceiling. After the 
meal, a few people sauntered out onto the 
floor and then a few more until we were all 
out there. It was sort of surreal really, 
watching Mom dance with AD Skinner and the 
Lone Gunmen shaking around in the corner. The 
party went on forever, fast songs, slow 
songs. Because I couldn't have the obligatory 
dance with my father, I danced with my 
brother through a song. I thanked him for 
being civil to my new husband. My husband. Oh 
my God. Slow dancing with Mulder was 
wonderful, but it was the fast dances that 
excited me. He spun me around and we moved 
together from song to song, the only two 
people on the planet. 
 A little before midnight I remembered 
that I had to do the throwing of the bouquet. 
There weren't too many people left so there 
wasn't much competition. Charlie's girlfriend 
caught it, which caused Charlie all sorts of 
anxiety. Then I sat in a chair for the garter 
tossing. Mulder playfully peeked up my skirt 
and I gently slapped his cheek. We were 
enjoying acting in front of all these people. 
Acting like mushy newlyweds. He seductively 
brought the garter down to my ankle and then 
threw it into the tiny collection of men. 
Skinner caught it. 
 The party ended and Mulder and I arrived 
at our place like zombies. Despite our tired 
bones, we couldn't help but be romantic.
 "Hey, Wifey?" Mulder motioned for me to 
follow him into the bedroom. 
 "I'm coming, Hubby." I giggled, locating 
that skimpy lingerie Rosie had given me. 
Maybe I would just try it?
 I once heard that sex after marriage is 
as improbable as life after death. Don't 
believe everything you hear.   

 I once asked Mom what she thought a 
woman is. The definition of a woman that 
stands out from the rest. Most people might 
say confidence or good observation skills. 
She said "acceptance of change". At the time 
I shrugged it off, not really sure what she 
meant. Now I'm beginning to see what she was 
saying. I thought that once I turned thirty 
my life would be this monotonous existence. 
Wake up, go to work, roll my eyes at my 
partner's outlandish theories and go home. 
It's amazing how we can actually believe that 
the life we're living is right for us. That 
it's as good as it gets. I see people doing 
it everyday. The waitress that has settled 
for low wages and men that beat on her just 
like Daddy did. I just want to shake her, or 
anyone like her, and say, "God. There's so 
much more then this." I was like her. Like 
them. I gripped the gold cross on my neck, 
believing that the Lord would present me with 
a golden path to happiness. One day I would 
just wake up and stop feeling guilty for 
leaving medicine, let myself fall in love 
with Mulder and grow five inches taller. 
 My point is that it's not going to 
happen like that at all. Things change. We 
want and need different things as time 
passes. I'm never going to stop feeling guilt 
over disappointing my father and, yes, myself 
for leaving medicine. But I can prove that 
the FBI was the best idea I ever had. Maybe 
someday I will let myself completely fall in 
love with Mulder instead of justifying our 
conjugality with nonsense like fate and 
inevitability. I haven't let him watch me 
fall yet. And growing five inches? Well, we 
all have dreams. 
 For two days and three nights, Mulder 
and I didn't let each other forget that we 
were married. In fact we spent most of our 
"mini-honeymoon" locked in the bedroom. We 
justified it as simply eight years of pent up 
sexual energy. But, the constant sharing of 
affection didn't go without regret. On Monday 
morning we literally crawled out of bed. 
 We arrived at work, late, and met 
Skinner in his office. 
 "There are two things to discuss," he 
said after we thanked him for his wedding 
gift. "First of all, Agent Scully, or I mean, 
uh...."
 "It's still Agent Scully." I tugged at 
Mulder's crooked tie.
 "Alright, Scully, I got you a case with 
violent crimes. But just one case for now. 
And secondly, I found a new partner for you, 
Mulder." He handed Mulder a slip of paper. 
 "Agent Edwards." He read the paper. 
"Worked in the Bureau for...only three 
months?" Mulder looked up.
 "The X-Files isn't exactly a sought 
after position." Skinner chuckled. "Let Agent 
Edwards in please." He spoke through his 
intercom. 
 She was about five inches taller then 
me. 
 "You must be Agent Mulder." She walked 
with her hand out. 
 "Yeah, and this is Agent Scully." He 
shook her hand and then I did, grimacing. 
 "I'm so honored to be taking your 
position." Edwards ran a hand through her 
shoulder length, brown hair. "My brother and 
I have been following both of your work for 
years, and when I heard that there was an 
opening for the X-Files I just died." Then a 
travesty of a good laugh escaped her lips, a 
sort of snorting sound.
 Seemingly flattered, Mulder smiled. "We 
have fans Scully."
 "Yeah." I needed an Alka-Seltzer. I knew 
it was coming. I knew I was being booted out 
and someone was taking my place in the X-
Files. But when I actually met her, my toes 
curled. She reminded me of myself before 
Mulder had spread his contagious paranoia 
into my mind. Before the eight oddest and 
turbulent years of my life. I didn't want to 
think that she was headed into that, that I 
was just another partner on his endless 
journey for the truth. But, I reminded 
myself, Diana Fowley was the first. She had 
founded the X-Files along with Mulder and 
then left for Russia. Then I came along, 
naïve and young like Edwards, expecting but 
not receiving a normal life. I saw it all 
before me. Edwards was going to stand side by 
side Mulder on a path that was ours. Not hers 
or Diana's. Mine and his. It had become as 
important to me as it was to him. It made me 
think of the baby we had lost. This was a 
huge part of my life that was being taken 
away. It frightened me that I might not be 
able to gracefully accept this change. Then I 
became overwhelmed with the feeling that I 
wasn't special at all. 

 Exhausted, I dropped the case files on 
my dining room table and tossed my heels into 
the bedroom. I pulled out a chair and rifled 
through the pile of mail. Mostly junk, some 
bills. My stomach growled with indigence. I 
hadn't eaten since breakfast. As I searched 
the freezer for an easy meal I thought about 
my first day in violent crimes. The people 
were nice enough, the case was interesting, 
but I didn't feel that impowerment that had 
hit me my first day of the X-Files. Then I 
felt dangerous, tempting fate and even 
myself. Violent crimes was a way of earning 
money. It could be a way of earning respect 
from my peers, but I wasn't looking for that 
anymore. We care too much about what people 
think. I've learned that the hard way. 
 The front door opened as I mixed the 
stir fry over the stove. 
 "Hi." Mulder flopped down at the table, 
resting his forehead on the surface. "Was 
your day as long as mine?" He grumbled.
 "I don't know." I shrugged.
 "Well mine was long."
 "I'm sure." The chicken sizzled as I 
added it to the vegetables. "What's her first 
name?" 
 "Whose? Edwards?" He lifted his head and 
sniffed the air. "Uh, Abby.  What are you 
making?" 
 "Stir fry. Is she nice?" I watched him 
saunter into the kitchen.
 "I don't know. It looks like she has the 
potential to be a bitch."
 "Oh really, I'm sorry." Stir, stir, 
push. 
 "Don't be. You know how much I love 
bitches." He leaned down and kissed my cheek.
 "Oooh." I slapped his hand. "Make 
yourself useful and set the table."

 Dinner was quiet. We sat on either ends 
of the table, restlessly playing with our 
food. I was absorbed in thought, conflicting 
ideas running in my head. I wanted to 
concentrate on the fact that I was special. 
That the X-Files was as much me as it was 
him. But that pessimistic devil, that 
sometimes is mistaken as logic, taunted me 
with Edwards and most of all Fowley.
 "Mulder?" I swallowed a chunk of green 
pepper. 
 "Yeah?" He looked up from the sports 
section of the paper. 
 "Have you been married before?" 
 His eyes squinted at me. Lowering his 
silverware he said; "Yes."
 "To Diana?" 
 "Yep."
 "Okay." I speared a piece of chicken 
with the prongs of my fork.
 After a long silence Mulder cleared his 
throat. "Does that bother you?" 
 "No, no." I shook my head. "No big 
deal."

 Mulder's body was pressed tight behind 
me, his arms locked over my stomach. I loved 
the feeling of his breath flowing over the 
top of my head. I even admitted to myself 
that sleeping without him would be a 
challenge. As I said, we get too settled into 
things. I accepted Mulder as my lover and 
then husband way too easily. Husband. That 
word still stung me. A good sting. 
 "Are you asleep?" He sighed.
 "No, why?" I put my hand over his.
 "Just checking." Mulder planted a soft 
kiss on my earlobe. 
 "I was thinking about how I'd like to 
get a place with two bedrooms." 
 "Two bedrooms? You're not getting old 
fashioned on me are you?" He chuckled. 
 "No, I just thought a larger place would 
be nice. Then we could have room for some of 
your stuff. We need to get it all out of that 
storage place anyway." I whispered. 
 "You hate my stuff." 
 "I do not." I twisted my body around to 
face him. "Besides I want something to be 
ours, mix our things together." I rested my 
hands on his bare chest. "I mean, we don't 
get to share the X-Files anymore right?" 
 "We share the X-Files." Mulder frowned.
 "Right." I huffed.
 "Hey, c'mon. They can stick me with some 
other partner but that's just technical. When 
there is real investigating to be done, 
you're my partner." 
 "Okay. So can we look for a bigger 
place?" I pouted. 
 "You know I'll give you whatever you 
want."  

 "The motivation of a killer, this 
killer, is obvious in the clues that he 
leaves behind. The way he covers up the 
victims with blankets to hide the horror from 
himself and possibly others suggests that he 
feels
guilty after his ragefull beatings and brutal 
rapes. Possibly a tie in with his 
youth......" I nervously tapped my foot 
against the podium as I spoke. I
hadn'tbeen that uneasy over a speech since I 
had joined the Bureau. Maybe because when I 
worked with Mulder I was portrayed as the 
smarter, more sensible one. Now I had to 
prove my worth amongst some of the best 
agents in the country. Not that Mulder isn't, 
people just don't
easily understand his methods. "He leaves 
clues on every murder site, and kills in the 
states Florida and Texas. I believe he wants 
to be caught, he's
committing these crimes in states that have 
the death penalty. This is another pointer to 
his emotional state during and after he 
kills. Very remorseful, he probably blames 
his crimes on impulse and loss of control." I 
clicked through the slides of the murder 
victims and various items of evidence. I 
delivered a wonderful speech. Or at least I 
thought so. Relieved to have my part 
completed, I sat back and watched the other 
agents continue with the presentation. Relax. 
  
  My confidence regained, I turned the 
computer on in my temporary cubicle and 
waited for it to boot up. I noticed how empty 
my office space was, a sign of how temporary 
it might be. I pleaded to the universe, or
God, to please let me have a permanent job 
with violent crimes. After that speech I 
earned a spot there. 
  "You have mail." The computer said. I 
clicked on the mail icon as I pulled my chair 
closer. 
  "To Scully: Hi. How's your day? Mine is 
long and boring and uneventful without you 
here. Edwards is rearranging the file 
cabinets even  though that's going to screw 
me up. She doesn't seem to care. You would
care wouldn't you? She's also cleaned my 
desk, there are things in there I didn't even 
know I had. And she's taken over your area, 
with pictures of her boyfriend and kid all 
over your old desk. I hate how I can't look 
over and see you sitting there, eating while 
you look at gruesome photos or typing with 
your little glasses on. Do you know what 
Edwards said today? I showed her a picture of 
a victim from our latest case and she said 
"Yuck, gross." Like a kid or something. You 
never said "Yuck." As soon as your
speech is done, come down here and save me. 
Mulder."
  Laughing, I crossed the hall to the 
elevators and boarded a nearly full one. As 
the floors dropped the people left and I was 
the lone one to reach the basement. It felt 
good to be down there. The cool and
musky air was so familiar. The door was 
closed but I didn't bother to knock. It still 
felt like my door. The main room was empty 
but I decided to check the attached area to 
my right. 
  He was there and she was there with him. 
I saw her step forward and become toe to toe 
with him, her hands resting on her hips. 
Mulder said something, I couldn't quite hear, 
and then she smiled. A curious sort of
smile. She lifted one of her hands and patted 
the side of his face. Then her fingers stayed 
there, on his cheek, for an unknown reason. 
Mulder's lips
tightened as he watched her move into him. 
She pulled his
mouth toward her and started kissing him. 
  Confused, I turned and threw my hands 
over my eyes as though my refusal to watch 
meant it wasn't happening. I then brought my 
hands to my chest, grabbing myheart. Maybe if 
I held on to it, it wouldn't shatter. I 
walked forward, out into the hall. Away from 
the cause of my panic. Numbly, I made my way 
to the elevator and punched the right button. 
I was doing it again, instead of thinking 
about the event that had just occurred, I 
concentrated on simple actions. Step, step, 
step, press the elevator button, breath. 
Don't be a baby Scully. Don't cry. If you cry 
you
fail. I paced the elevator. Hold it in, Don't 
let yourself get weak. Just calm down, 
breath, don't cry. 

 The attitude that I assumed didn't 
surprise me at all. In fact it's vintage me. 
I worked hard on the paperwork, forced my 
mind to see the simplicity before me rather 
then the pain behind me. I went home, not 
angry or hurting or ashamed. Calm. It was the 
silence of the apartment that bothered me. 
Silence leads to self exploration. I didn't 
want to explore anything. I changed into 
sweats and turned the radio on, blasting the 
thoughts out of my mind with loud music. Just 
don't think about it. Just get through this. 
God, I didn't know if I could control myself 
when he got home. I let myself be disturbed 
about that rather then the real cause of my 
disquiet. 
 The brass knob on the front door turned 
and he entered, a pile of folders under his 
arm. "Oh hey." He gave a short smile as he 
dropped his keys on the hall table. 
 "Hi." I sat with my legs underneath me 
on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee. 
 "I didn't see you all day, I wanted to 
hear about your big speech, did you blow them 
away?" Mulder put his hands on my shoulders, 
kissing the top of my head. 
 "I think I did pretty well." I tried to 
mask the rage in my voice with a sip of 
coffee. 
 "Yeah? Good. I knew you would. Well I 
had a pretty weird day." He sat next to me, 
rubbing his eyes just like he did every night 
he got home. We're such habitual creatures. 
"I got a story for you." 
 "You do?" I looked straight ahead, it's 
easier to emotionally detach when you're 
concentrating on a piece of furniture.
 "Edwards kissed me." Mulder scratched 
his nose. "Just out of the blue, we're in the 
file room and she says something about her 
boyfriend dumping her and how I'm endearing 
to her or something."
 "Oh?" I exhaled for the first time in 
what felt like hours. "And she kissed you, 
then what?"
 "Then what? Well I pushed her off. You 
know I wouldn't do anything with her, my 
heart belongs to one special agent." He 
rested his head on my shoulder. "The music's 
kinda loud isn't it?" 
 I let myself think about it. I had 
turned before I was able to watch his 
reaction to the kiss. I had no reason to not 
trust him, it frightened me that  a simple 
advance from his partner caused me so much 
turmoil. And he told me. Didn't hide it, but 
told me. I wanted so much to be able to give 
every part of me to him, I wanted to trust 
him with no doubts. I wanted to admit to him, 
to myself, to the heavens, that I was in love 
with him. I couldn't. I leaned forward, 
setting the mug on my coffee table. I passed 
the moment of no return, that inexplicable 
split second that unbalances my emotions. A 
pressure formed behind my eyes and tears 
formed. It took Mulder a few moments to 
recognize that I was crying. 
 "What's wrong?" He lifted his head and 
cupped my face in his hands. 
 "Everything." 

 I tried to hold them back, but the tears 
flowed readily from my eyes. I hate not being 
able to stop them. Mulder led me into his 
arms and rocked me back and forth, quiet and 
waiting for me to explain. Explain why I was 
losing myself. Or was I frightened of finding 
myself? 
 "Mulder?" I wiped my eyes on his tie. 
"There are just so many things."
 "What do you mean?" He freed one arm and 
turned the stereo off using the remote. 
 "I thought when I married you that I 
would just accept everything. I would trust 
you without worrying, love you without hating 
myself for it. It's just not like I thought 
it was going to be." I sobbed.
 He nodded his head, as though he 
predicted what I was going to say. "You hate 
yourself for loving me?"
 "Well, there are two parts of me. One 
side wants to just let myself fall in love 
with you and savor that. But another side is 
so scared to let you control my emotions. I 
feel that...I feel that if you hurt me I'd 
never recover. I've never felt that way about 
anyone before." The flood of tears ceased and 
I lifted my head from his chest. That's 
exactly what my problem is. Exactly. Oh my 
God, I figured it out. 
 "So you're not in love with me?" 
Mulder's eyebrow perked up.
 "Ha." I dug for a tissue in my pocket. 
"Of course I am, what do you think has been 
scaring the shit out of me?" 
 Satisfied, Mulder smiled. The smile that 
I love. "I'm scared too."
 "Yeah?" I trapped a drop of snot with my 
Kleenex.
 "Uh huh. But knowing that you're scared 
makes me less scared somehow. You see Scully, 
every other woman I've been with seemed to 
come into our relationship knowing more about 
me then I did. They were all so sure of where 
things were going. Neither of us have a clue 
what sort of path we're on. I like that. I 
like working together toward wherever it is 
we're going." His words pacified my upset. He 
always seems to be able to do that. I 
wondered if I do that for him too. If my 
logical rants actually help him feel better, 
like his heartfelt rambling speeches do for 
me. 

 Hannah Ferris met Mulder and I on 
Saturday, at the first apartment on a long 
list. It was near our work, which was nice, 
but in a shady neighborhood. I fell in love 
with the fifth. It seems that I've been 
falling in love a lot lately. It was 
perfectly mainstream of me to like the second 
apartment. It was actually more of a 
townhouse, with it's own garage. The living 
room was spacious with a picture window out 
looking the small front yard. The kitchen had 
an eat in area and there was a small den with 
sliding glass doors out onto the patio which 
led to the fenced in backyard. There was even 
a half bath and a big closet to keep a washer 
and dryer. Upstairs there were three small 
bedrooms and the second bathroom. I knew I 
had to have it. 
 "It's a little large for just two, but 
if you're planning on having a family, it 
would be great." The realtor handed Mulder 
the rental papers. 
 "Yeah it would." I clapped my hands in 
excitement. "So can we get it?" I put my arm 
around Mulder's waist and gazed up into his 
eyes. 
 "It'll take forty five minutes to get to 
work." Mulder teased. "And it's not cheap."
 "Please?" I stuck out my bottom lip. 
Ferris, the Realtor, seemed disgusted by our 
display of newlywed lust and left the room. 
 "Yeah fine." Defeated he leaned over and 
kissed me. A promise sealed with a kiss. I 
liked that.    

 

JUSTIFIABLE CONJUGALITY 4\5 CHAPTERS 21-27
 "Do you have it?" I sat on the living 
room floor, watching Mulder balance a heavy 
cardboard box on his knee as he tried to 
close the front door. 
 "Yeah." he grunted. "It's the last one." 
 "I wish we had the furniture." I laid 
back and looked up at the ceiling. Our 
ceiling. 
 "Are you kidding, it's like we're 
camping or something." Mulder set the box 
next to a stack of others and joined me on 
the carpet. "We'll order pizza and plug in 
the tv." He snuggled up close to me and 
kissed my cheek.
 "No." I shook my head.
 "No?" Mulder straddled me, a playful 
tone in his voice. 
 "No. I want you to take me out on a 
date." I pulled out his collar, he always 
leaves it tucked in and looking horrible. 
 "A date?" He laughed. "Hey I married you 
to save money."
 "Funny." I pulled him on top of me and 
kissed his lips. His hands slid down to my 
waist and tugged at my jeans but I wriggled 
out from under him. "Don't think you were 
getting all this sex for free, you owe me 
dinner and a movie." I wagged my finger at 
him. It was fun actually being in love. Not 
lying to myself or others anymore. Although I 
had succeeded that hurdle, another problem, 
small but evident, tickled the back of my 
mind. Mulder and I been making love for 
weeks, unprotected, and I had gotten my 
period. I mourned when I saw the blood. A 
part of me still had hope for another chance 
at motherhood. I knew I should go to the 
doctor and check to see if I'm fertile. But 
what if he said there was no possibility of 
me having babies? Then it would be so final 
and over and I've never get another chance. 
Now I was in this nebulous zone where there 
was a trickle of hope that I could be a mom.

 We went to the Chinese place Mulder had 
proposed to me. I hadn't been back there 
since and there was a touch of excitement 
sitting where a chapter of my life had begun. 
We ordered a bunch of different things, some 
I can't even pronounce, and Mulder introduced 
me to Saki. A Chinese drink that tastes 
disgusting. As I barely swallowed my first 
taste I felt a presence to my right. Much 
like when Mulder had appeared there when I 
was having lunch with Mom. 
 "Hi Mulder, hi Scully." Edwards set her 
purse on our table. "How are you two?" She 
had way too much makeup on. Or maybe I was 
looking for something to dislike her for. 
 "We're fine." Mulder slid his hand 
across the table toward me and took my hand 
in his. I think he was trying to show her 
that I was his, or he was mine. 
 "I'm glad to see you here, I need to 
talk about the case." She looked over at me. 
"Um, do you think we can chat in private?" 
She said to Mulder.
 "Ha, no. Scully is much a part of the X-
Files as you are."
 If not more, I thought. 
 "I see. Well, this is the autopsy report 
from the first victim, apparently it was 
suicide by asphyxiation." She handed him the 
report. Mulder gave it a cursory over view.
 "Scully, what's this drug?" He pointed 
to a word on the bottom of the paper. 
 "That's a substance found in most common 
metals, it's sometimes used as an anti-
depressant. The numbers found in the body 
tell me that he overdosed. It also says that 
he has puncture marks on his inner elbow, if 
he used it as a liquid rather then a pill 
form it's very simple to go over the 
recommended usage and be killed. I'd check 
and see if he was prescribed for this 
medicine, if there are any needles at his 
home or if he was addicted to this stuff, but 
I would guess it was either his first time 
using it and he did it irresponsibly or it 
was used to kill him by someone else." I 
shoved the report into Edward's hands. It 
felt good to be better at her work then she 
was. My work, I reminded myself, she's just a 
formality.

 We went and saw a romantic movie that 
Mulder insisted was a chick flick, even 
though I saw a small tear surface in his eyes 
at the end. We got home late and spread out 
sheets and a comforter on the living room 
floor. I didn't miss the bed that much, just 
as long as Mulder was there. My cramps were 
acting up so Mulder massaged my back and 
sides in the dark. His hands were very light 
on me, careful and unsure of how much 
pressure to use, I had to tell him repeatedly 
to press harder. He isn't the greatest at 
giving massages, but there isn't anyone else 
I would rather do it. His hands are like a 
drug to me. I want them on me as much as 
possible. We curled up in our little 
makeshift sleeping arrangement and I feel 
asleep quickly in his arms. 

 A noise stirred me from deep sleep and I 
turned, expecting to find Mulder on the floor 
next to me. He wasn't. I sat up, disoriented 
in the dark, new room. There was no clock, 
but I could tell it was still far into the 
night. Dark and cold. There was a sliver of 
light coming from the bathroom down the hall. 
I could feel in the pit of my stomach that 
something was wrong. I walked across the 
chilly tile in bare feet and pushed open the 
door. 
 "Oh God." I put my hands on Mulder's 
back as he vomited into the toilet. "Bad 
Chinese food?" 
 "No." He coughed and fell to his knees. 
I felt his forehead, sticky. 
 "Do you have the flu?" I knelt with him, 
petting his cheek as he released more food 
into the toilet bowl. Seemingly finished, he 
leaned back against the wall as I flushed for 
him. 
 "It doesn't matter." He wiped his mouth 
with the back of his hand.
 "You're not pregnant are you?" I joked, 
running my fingers through his dark hair. 
 He gave a feeble smile and looked down 
at his lap in thought. "I just got sick." 
 "Did you have a bad dream?" I helped him 
off the floor and searched one of the 
bathroom boxes for Pepto-Bismol. 
 "Doesn't matter." He leaned against me, 
his limbs wobbly and weak. 
 "Of course it does." I handed him the 
bottle of pink medicine and he took a few 
swigs.
 "Yeah I had a bad dream." He swallowed.
 "You want to tell me about it?" I led 
him out into the dark hall and back to our 
pile of blankets on the carpet. 
 "Not really, Scully, it's just always 
the same dream." I covered him in the 
comforter and climbed underneath, resting my 
hands on his stomach as though that would 
heal his nausea.
 "Okay you don't have to tell me." 

 
 "Scully? Are you home?" Mulder bounded 
up the stairs like an eager child. 
 "I'm here." I was finding places for the 
furniture in our home office.
 "I've got news." He kissed my cheek then 
handed me a stack of papers.
 "What's this?" I sat on the edge of our 
brand new desk.
 "We're going to court." He shone with 
excitement.
 "Court? What for?" I flipped through the 
papers, wishing I had my reading glasses 
handy. 
 "I talked to AD and some other big wigs 
at the Bureau, we can go to court and argue 
the rule about a married couple not being 
able to be partners. We just have to prove 
that our relationship won't get in the way." 
Mulder hugged me tight. His happiness was 
infectious.
 "How are we going do that?" I smelled 
his shirt, Mulder scent. 
 "We'll figure something out." He left a 
trail of kisses on my forehead.

 

 Mulder brooded in the corner of the 
waiting room as I nervously flipped through 
ancient copies of Time magazine. He was 
quiet, he had learned not to argue too 
heartily with me. We always seem to both lose 
when we fight. 
 "He's ten minutes late." Mulder tapped 
his wristwatch.
 "That's probably a good thing, it means 
he's busy, and if he's busy he must be a good 
doctor." I suggested.
 "Mr and Mrs Mulder?" A tall, thin and 
deeply tanned man stepped out  into the 
waiting room. "Nice to meet you." His voice 
was thick and reassuring. He had the air of 
perceptiveness that psychologists are known 
to possess. A very intimidating yet endearing 
man. And I felt all this after a simple 
handshake. I hoped Mulder felt as assuaged as 
I did. 
 "Please take a seat on the couch and 
we'll get started." The tall doctor tugged at 
his trousers before he sat on his designated 
chair. 
 Mulder and I sat close on the red velvet 
couch. I noted how stereotypical the room, 
the couch, the therapist all were. A red 
velvet couch. You can't get much more 
Hollywood movie set then that.
 "I would like to start by asking you why 
you chose to come to couples therapy." Dr. 
Martin, his nameplate read, pulled a pad of 
paper out  from under him, and uncapped a 
ball-point pen.
 "Well, I suggested that we try to talk 
to someone about a recent problem." I patted 
Mulder's hand, then laced my fingers between 
his.
 "And we heard that your establishment is 
a little more open minded then most." Mulder 
chimed in.
 "Open minded?" Dr. Martin scribbled some 
words down and then looked up, a professional 
but sincere curiosity in his dark eyes. "You 
mean we'll try unconventional methods for 
your problem unlike most therapists in the 
country? Yes we do. For instance we try 
holistic and perhaps spiritual techniques for 
a common problem like impotence before we 
rely on Viagra or other side effect causing 
drugs."
 "Impotence isn't my problem." Mulder 
scoffed, glancing over at me for reassurance. 
 "No, no, it's not." I felt my cheeks 
burn red.
 "You said 'my problem', instead of 'our 
problem'. Why?" Dr. Martin waited with his 
pen poised.
 "Uh, well, I guess because it is my 
problem, and I would like to leave Scully out 
of it." Mulder said.
 "Scully?" The doctor's eyebrow raised in 
confusion.
 "Scully." Mulder repeated.
 "Is that your first name, Mrs. Mulder?"
 "Oh no, my first name is Dana, my last 
name is Scully." 
 "I don't understand." Dr. Martin 
scratched the side of his chiseled face in 
thought. 
 "I'm Scully and he's Mulder." 
 "I thought you two were married." He 
leaned forward in the chair, a haze of 
perplexity in his eyes.
 "We are." Mulder squeezed my hand.
 "Yet you call each other by your last 
names?" 
 "I suppose we should've mentioned that 
we're FBI agents."
 "So?" Dr. Martin threw his hands up.
 "So we call each other by our last 
names, we were partners for seven years 
before we were married." Mulder seemed 
irritated. I felt similar. It wasn't 
comfortable to be analyzed. Then, one might 
ask, why was I there? Why had I goaded Mulder 
into coming?
 "Interesting." The unnaturally tanned 
doctor wrote a few more notes and then said; 
"what is the problem?"
 "That's the weird part." Mulder looked 
down at his lap, building up the strength to 
share his issue with me and the doctor. I 
wondered if it was bothering him more to 
speak in front of me rather then the a 
complete stranger. Humans seem to find 
comfort in strangers. We chat and make jokes 
with people we'll never see again. And most 
of us would rather share our secrets and 
fears with someone who doesn't have the right 
to judge us. "What it comes down to is that I 
was abducted by, um, unknown entities and I 
was gone for five weeks and returned to the 
hospital a few months ago, and ever since 
then I've been having a repeating dream about 
the experience." 
 "I see. Have you had any other sorts of 
symptoms?" Completely  the opposite of 
nonplused, the doctor remained calm and yes, 
very open minded. 
 "I have some scars, and every once in 
awhile I'll have a sort of daymare."
 "Daymare?" 
 "Yeah, I'll be looking at something, 
like a coffee pot, and for a second I would 
swear that it morphed into something else."
 "Something else?" Does that therapist 
have any original words? He always seemed to 
be repeating ours.
 "An alien's head." Mulder replied. I had 
a sudden urge to hug him then. I had never 
heard of these "daymares" and it hurt to 
think that he was going through something I 
had no idea was going on. It hurts to think 
you're not indispensable.
 "Okay, Scully? How does that make you 
feel?" 
 "I feel that it's unfair to think that 
his problems aren't my problems. For the past 
eight years we've gone through so much and 
this is just another obstacle we're going to 
jump over together." These words buzzed out 
of my lips before I could even consider them. 
I suppose it was exactly how I felt. There's 
a certain honesty in accident. 
 "And how do you think I can assist you?" 
Dr. Martin rolled the pen between his 
fingers, waiting.
 "I was hoping we could try hypnosis." I 
said. Mulder shot me an uncertain glance. 
"We've both been under hypnosis before, and I 
think its helped us."
 "I am certified to do that." The doctor 
confirmed. "Do you feel comfortable with that 
Mr. Mulder?" 
 "If it's what Scully wants." Mulder bit 
his bottom lip.
 "Is it what you want?" Dr. Martin 
scooted toward Mulder in his caster chair. 
 "I think it might help things." Mulder 
nodded his head and slipped his arm over my 
shoulders. "So bring it on." He chuckled. 
Mulder always seemed to smile when he was 
emotionally drained. And I think he was. He 
was worried about my reactions, my inherent 
skepticism.
 "I will use the typical method and lead 
you to an area of your psyche that is often 
ignored. And Ms. Scully, if you could please 
get off the couch and let your husband lay 
back. I would also like to request that you 
watch from the other side of the room, it's 
easier for him to concentrate if you're not 
touching him." The doctor lowered his voice 
as Mulder rested his head on the velvet arm. 
I stood near the door, pacing really, as Dr. 
Martin began his hypnosis speak. He repeated 
the classic lines we've all heard and soon 
Mulder's eyelids were closed, but vibrated as 
though he were in REM sleep.
 "I want you to find that small piece of 
you, that piece that recalls where you were 
for all those weeks." Dr. Martin's voice was 
steady and sure. "Where are you?"
 "Dark." Mulder grumbled.
 "It's dark where you are?"
 "Very cold and dark, some light on the 
sides." I watched as Mulder  rubbed his 
temples. "I can't see much." His demeanor was 
almost juvenile.
 "Can you hear anything?" 
 "Humming. Like flies....humming."
 "Feel anything?" 
 "Cold."
 Please, please. I prayed that Mulder was 
joking, maybe he was making this all up. He 
really wasn't hypnotized. For the first time 
I realized I might not want to hear where he 
was. Ignorance is bliss.
 "Oh....oh....oh...someone....hello.....s
omeone is here.....my 
arm....no.....please....oh....." Mulder's 
lips quivered and his body trembled in 
simpatico. I just wanted to hold him. I 
didn't care. That scientist so innately part 
of me was shadowed by the wife, lover, 
supporter that had been developing inside of 
me.  
 "Stop the hypnosis. Please." I wiped 
tears off my cheek. 
 "Your arm? What's wrong with your arm?" 
Dr. Martin ignored me.
 "Sticking in it. Needle......tell them 
to stop... tests.... Them..... they..... 
they're saying they're...... They're gonna 
come back."
 "Back?"
 "They're gonna come get me again."     

 

 Lawyers are such deplorable creatures. 
Most of them anyway. I threatened suicide if 
I had to meet another lawyer with 
questionable motivations. Okay, maybe not 
suicide. 
 Court day came after weeks of planning 
and scheming with our personal attorney. She 
was certain that we could challenge the 
judge. Really is was more of a hearing before 
a Bureau judge rather then a judicial case. I 
felt confident. I think Mulder did too. 
 "Nearly eight years of hard work, good 
quality work." Our attorney paced the meeting 
room as she pleaded our case. "We believe it 
would be fair for a trial period of six 
months to prove that they can function 
properly as partners, although they are 
married. During those six months they would 
report to you instead of the AD and fill in 
thorough reports. My clients also promise to 
keep in the allotted expenditure." She said.
 Mulder and I sat across from the Bureau 
judge at this informal hearing. We made sure 
to sit about a foot width between us and 
didn't hold hands. We wanted to appear 
professional. We are professional. 
 "I will grant this trial period, but it 
will be for three months rather then six. And 
at the end of these three months I will 
determine if they are capable of continuing a 
partnership at the FBI." The judge's words 
were simple in their lack of ceremony. We 
were getting a chance to work together. The 
reality didn't seem to set in. For at least 
three months I'd be working on the X-Files 
again. The job that had formed into my life 
work.
 Mulder and I resisted the temptation to 
hug in front of the judge. Keep the working, 
professional ambiance. We thanked him and 
left the room, waiting until we found an 
empty boardroom to celebrate with a kiss.
 "We got some time." Mulder whispered 
mid-kiss.
 "I can't believe how simple it was." I 
hugged him tightly and then stepped backward. 
A sudden dizziness overwhelmed me, and I 
tried to balance myself by leaning my hands 
against Mulder's shoulders. It was the 
similar feeling of when you stand up too fast 
and black out, yet this was longer and more 
confusing. I had felt it before, but not in a 
long while.
 "You okay?" Mulder lifted my chin with 
his finger and stared into my eyes. 
 "Yeah, just a little dizzy. Uh, let's go 
to lunch."

 I was starving even after a stop at the 
burger place near work, so I munched on a 
Kit-Kat as Mulder and I strutted into our 
office. Our office for a little while anyway. 
Edwards sat at MY desk and chatted on the 
phone. She saw us enter and I could tell she 
knew right away. She knew I had taken my job 
back and she was long gone. I had taken my 
life back. She hung up the phone and waited 
for us to speak.
 "I'm back." I took way too much delight 
in subsequently firing her. "I think you need 
to visit the AD for a relocation." 
 "I figured." Edwards stood and smoothed 
her skirt. "Nice working with you Fox." 
Angrily, she stuffed a few things under her 
arm and tried to leave with any remaining 
dignity. Dignity. God, I knew she had tried 
kissing Mulder. I knew all about her. I 
waited until she left to run a hand over my 
oak desk. My plush chair I missed so much. 
Wearing a wide grin, Mulder sat in my chair 
and I sat on his lap, triumphant. 

 "Another depressing afternoon." I 
gripped the steering wheel, trying to forget 
our therapy session. After five meetings with 
Dr. Martin it seemed that we became more 
aggravated with each other and less 
understanding. Mulder refused a second 
hypnosis treatment and rather discussed his 
memories of the re-occurring dream. He 
described it as a nightmare that starts and 
ends with the same magnificent bright light. 
During this dream he is poked and probed and 
left naked in the dark. Every night he 
revisits this evil place and every morning 
wakes with less hope then the day before. If 
I could take that pain from him and 
experience it I would. But somehow that would 
hurt Mulder more. 
 "Scully?" Mulder combed his dark hair 
with strong fingers.
 "Hm?"
 "Pull over." He said, calm enough to not 
worry me.
 "Now?" 
 "Yeah, right into that parking lot." He 
pointed to a gravel lot in the middle of a 
patch of blooming cherry blossoms. I 
acquiesced and stopped the car, waiting for 
explanation.
 "I think we need to just catch ourselves 
you know? Life seems so desperate after those 
sessions, let's just sit by the lake for 
awhile?" Mulder patted my hand as he 
unbuckled his seat belt.
 The sun shone brightly on us as we 
walked under the indigenous cherry blossoms 
to the spread of fresh grass on the water's 
edge. Mulder slipped his jacket off and 
tossed it on to the ground, we used it as a 
haphazard seat.
 "It's a beautiful day." He put his arm 
around me as we watched the tiny ripples of 
water on the glossy surface. I thought it odd 
that the area seemed empty except for Mulder 
and I. The DC blossoms are such a tourist 
attraction, especially on such a bright day. 
But of course it was early spring and the 
tourists wouldn't show up for another few 
months.
 "Yes, it's beautiful." I squeezed 
Mulder's kneecap, a sign of agreement I 
think. 
 "You're beautiful." Mulder brushed my 
cheek with his lips. 
 "Oh, stop." I rolled my eyes.
 "Ah, c'mon let me compliment you." He 
breathed in my ear.
 "Okay, but only if you're serious." I 
picked at a blade of grass.
 "You don't think I am?" He kissed the 
line of my jaw.
 "You're never serious." I smiled, to let 
him know I was telling a half-truth.
 "Never, eh?" He brought his hands to my 
face, and turned me toward him. His hazel 
eyes were earnest and deep and the bright sun 
made it look as though he were wearing a 
halo. Mulder kissed me lightly on  the lips 
and then said, "You're beautiful."
 Before I could respond, he kissed me 
again. But this time he didn't detach quite 
as easily. It reminded me of the first time 
we really kissed, it felt as though he were 
exploring me, as though it were the first 
time. Defeated, I slid my arms over his 
shoulders and felt our bodies become parallel 
on the grassy knoll. 
 "You're smart." He broke the kiss 
momentarily. I was going to tell him we 
should quit, we're in a public park, in the 
middle of the day near our office. What if we 
were caught by a superior who told the Bureau 
judge? It wouldn't be good for our reports, 
our professional rapport. Mulder wouldn't let 
me speak for a second, he knew if he did I 
would be sure to say something logical and 
completely opposite to what one might say 
while kissing under a gorgeous sky and 
thousands of cherry blossoms. Maybe it was 
easier to risk a career faux pas then kick 
him off of me. 
 "You're strong and confident." He was 
laying on top of me and I could feel his 
hands wandering up my skirt and his mouth on 
the nape of my neck. He was right. I am. Take 
charge. I pulled at his tie and removed it as 
his lips returned to mine. 
 This is crazy. This is going to come 
back to haunt me. This feels really good. I 
shed my jacket and my blouse and bra were 
soon to follow. I ripped Mulder's work shirt 
open, like in those movies, except one of the 
buttons hit my nose before it rolled into the 
grass. Grass. God, we were out in the open, 
anyone could be watching this expression of 
our primal selves. Primal. Who knew?
 "You're a great cook and a wonderful 
agent." Mulder tugged my skirt and panties to 
my ankles. I worked his belt buckle, but he 
finally unfastened it and lost his pants 
before I was able to catch a full breath. We 
found our familiar rhythm quickly, but then 
it turned unfamiliar, different then all the 
times before. This was somehow animalistic in 
a truly loving way. I loved giving myself to 
Mulder, an idea that hurt so much before. I 
understood then that if Mulder died that very 
night, I would never make love again, because 
I could only make true love with one man. The 
sort of love that can't stop in a public 
park, that isn't rational or logical or even 
sane. Because it is personal. It isn't 
because I'm amorous for men, it's because I'm 
amorous for Mulder, my husband.
 "And you're a breathtaking lover." 
Mulder collapsed beside me, spent. I squinted 
my eyes at the powerful sun and groped for an 
article of clothing to feebly cover myself 
with. I wondered how many joggers, 
photographers, boaters or the various dog 
walkers shared a moment of Mulder and my 
affections. I lifted my head and surveyed the 
area. No one in immediate sight. I sat up and 
ran my fingers through Mulder's hair before I 
started to dress.
 "Thank you." I buttoned my blouse. 
 "Thank you for being mine." He grinned. 
His? Well I suppose in a way I was his. And 
he is mine. And it disturbed me how I was 
okay with that. I can be his. 
 Mulder helped me up after we got our 
clothes on, most of our clothes, we needed to 
stop off at home and get a new work shirt for 
him before we dared return to the office.
 As we walked up the small hill toward 
the car I was hit with another dizzy spell. 
Overwhelmed, I bent forward and breathed 
forcefully through my mouth. 
 "God Scully, you've been dizzy a lot 
lately. Maybe you need iron or calcium or 
something?" Mulder rubbed my back as I tried 
to blink the dizziness away.
 "What did you say?" I straightened up.
 "I said maybe you need..."
 "Iron?" 
 "I was just thinking..."
 "Iron deficiency. Oh my God. You get 
iron deficiency when you're having your 
period. I'm not having my period." My heart 
pounded with realization.
 "Well it doesn't have to be that, maybe 
you just ate.." 
 "That's not the point Mulder." My spell 
was over and I felt energy return to my 
bloodstream.
 "It isn't?" He followed me up the hill 
and into the gravel lot. I  nervously 
searched my pockets for the car keys and 
finally found the right one. "I've felt dizzy 
like this before Mulder."
 "You have?" Confused, he stood outside 
of the car as I grabbed my briefcase.
 "Yes. Yes, I have." I climbed back out 
with my day planner. 
 "I guess I don't get it Scully." Mulder 
scratched his forehead.
 "What day is it? The third? Is it the 
third?" I shook like a leaf. 
 "Uh, yeah, it's the third."
 "My red dot....my red dot...." My mouth 
felt dry and my legs consisted of gelatin. 
 "Your red dot?" Mulder took the day 
planner from me.
 "Mulder, I'm late, I'm a week late. I'm 
never late."
 His eyes shifted from side to side and 
then became saucer shaped. "You mean..."
 "Yes!" A cloud of tears filled my eyes 
and I watched Mulder come toward me in a 
haze. He hugged me tightly and then picked me 
up so that my legs wrapped around his waist. 
He spun me around a few times and I could see 
a buzz of sunlight and cherry blossoms past 
my tears of joy. I don't think I've ever been 
that happy before.  

 
 "Fuck." Mulder pounded on the apartment 
door in frustration. 
 "I'll try to catch him downstairs. You 
go up on the roof." I checked the safety on 
my gun before I headed for the dank 
stairwell. 
 "Are you sure you can handle it?" Mulder 
pulled at my trench coat sleeve.
 "Don't get soft on me." I whipped the 
door open and flew down the stairs, ignoring 
a few sleeping vagrants. As I reached the 
ground floor I could see a figure, our 
suspect, leaving the building. 
 "Federal Agent! I'm armed! Put your 
hands up!" I bellowed in my most intimidating 
voice. The man ran faster out the doors and 
into the busy street. I angrily followed, 
waving my gun as I kept speed in my 
impossible black pumps. "You son of a bitch, 
I'll shoot you." I crossed the street but an 
oncoming car slowed my pace. I could still 
see him, alleged name Jorge Allendro Rivera, 
he pumped down the alley way, yelling in 
Spanish as I shot the air around him. Scared, 
but still quick as lightening, Rivera rounded 
a corner behind a bulding. I ran faster, each 
step on the pavement filled with rage. My 
heart started to hammer against my ribcage 
and my breathing became stressed and 
unsteady. I had to catch him. I had to prove 
that Mulder could rely on me even when I was 
carrying our child in my tummy. 
 The weight of the gun in my hand started 
to effect my speed. I decided it best to take 
aim at Rivera's ankle and fire. 
 "DAHHH!" The suspect fell face first in 
a pile of gravel. He grabbed his foot, 
shaking in pain and shock. I caught up to him 
and kicked his back with my toe before I 
cuffed his grubby hands. 
 "Jorge Allendro Rivera, you have the 
right to remain silent..." I lifted him from 
the gravel and let him use me as a crutch. He 
stumbled forward, leaning against my 
shoulder, repeating a Spanish verse while I 
tried to recite his rights. 
 "SCULLY?!" Mulder jogged down the alley, 
his gun at his side. "You got him?" His 
surprise disturbed me. 
 "I guess he messed with the wrong agent 
today." I tried to sound less winded, but in 
truth it felt like the air had been knocked 
out of me. With my one free hand I rubbed my 
stomach just to make sure everything was in 
its place. 

 "I'm proud of you." Mulder hugged me 
from behind, his words mingling in my hair. 
 "I'm not that pregnant." I turned and 
kissed his chin. 
 "Pregnant or not, you're damn good at 
what you do." He smiled, placing his hands on 
my belly. It was hardly sticking out. I 
wouldn't be showing for another few months. 
God, let me show. Let me be pregnant for nine 
months and give birth and hold this baby in 
my arms. The other baby had come to this 
world in my bathroom, in a pool of blood, too 
small to be noticed. 
 "Thank you." I fixed Mulder's crooked 
tie. 
 "Excuse me?" The Bureau judge rapped on 
the open door as he entered our basement 
office. Mulder immediately pulled away from 
me at the sight of the pudgy, balding man.
 "Yes Sir, what can we do for you?" I 
pretended to be interested in a few manilla 
folders on my desk. 
 "I've been thinking about this three 
months of trial partnership," the judge said. 
"I realized that your reports may be biased."
 "Oh, I assure you..."
 "So I'm bringing in a third partner to 
help me help you." He scratched his blooming 
beard. "His name is John Doggett. He's going 
to assist you on your work and the reports." 
A tall, average looking man stepped into the 
office on cue. "Doggett is a very respected 
agent. I'd like to hear that you made him 
feel comfortable here."
 "Nice to meet both of you, I hope we can 
work well together." Doggett's accent was 
midwestern and his hand shake was sure and 
straight forward. He reminded me of a good 
natured farm boy who's one goal in life is to 
make everyone happy and safe. 
 Mulder rolled his eyes in my direction 
and thanked the judge for dropping by.
 "So what are you two working on?" 

 

 "Mulder?" I lightly kissed his bare 
shoulder. "You awake?" 
 "I am now." He turned and took me in his 
arms. "Is something wrong?" 
 "Well, not really." I ran my hands 
through his chest hair and took in his 
familiar scent. That soapy, Mulder smell that 
invades my nose and causes me to daydream and 
become strangely nostalgic. 
 "You want something?" He whispered.
 "Mulder, I'd kill for a cheeseburger." 
 "Kill? Wow. I'll go get one if you 
want." Mulder pushed the plaid comforter off 
his body and searched for his boxers on the 
floor. 
 "It's 1:30, you don't have to go get one 
if you don't want to." I said, noting that it 
was pouring outside. There was even far off 
thunder and lightening.
 "Yeah, right, I'll be sleeping on the 
couch for a few weeks then." He chuckled.
 "I didn't know I was such a bitch." I 
pulled the sheets over my breasts. It's 
difficult to be considered serious when 
you're naked.
 "You're not a bitch." He leaned over the 
bed and placed a kiss on my forehead. "You 
want fries too?" 
 "Large fries and a milkshake maybe?" I 
felt slightly piggish, but I was feeding two 
people now. Two people. God, there's a person 
inside of me that will have a personality. A 
person that will have the oddest parents in 
DC. 

 Mulder returned, soaked, with a bag of 
heavenly food from the nearest Burger King. A 
chocolate milkshake. Perfect. He climbed into 
bed and we made a makeshift tent under the 
covers. I used my flashlight to see the food 
and Mulder's face. The father of my child. I 
knew he was. I knew it. Yes, I worried about 
paranormal explanations for the baby, but in 
my heart I knew. Mulder was the only other 
one to know I was pregnant. I was four months 
and had only known for two months, and I had 
no intention of telling my mom or Skinner or 
any busybody for another few months. I was 
making sure to treat this baby differently 
then the last one. I didn't have caffeine and 
never let that Doggett smoke around me. I 
didn't want to lose this baby and not know 
why or how. 

 He was really okay. He wasn't meddling 
too far in our business and treated us with 
courtesy. In fact his calm and laid back 
nature collided with our energetic search for 
the truth. Doggett remained quiet about his 
personal life, although I snuck a peak at a 
wallet picture of a small girl.
 "My daughter, Ellie, she's four now." He 
smoothed his thumb over the photo. "You and 
Mulder have kids?" 
 "Uh," I smiled. There was a deep 
yearning in me to tell Doggett, someone I 
barely knew, about the child I was carrying. 
But somehow I knew how that would jinx hope. 
"No, no we don't."
 "How long have you been married?" For 
the first time Doggett seemed interested in 
me. He sat in Mulder's chair, slowly chewing 
a piece of gum. 
 "A few months." I felt myself blush. 
 "I think that makes a real good story 
don't you?" He drawled. "I mean, you were 
partners for what, eight years and now you're 
married. How many of those eight years were 
you secretly seeing each other?" Maybe I was 
mistaken. Perhaps Doggett was a meddler. But 
I felt it fair to share some facts about 
myself, then maybe he would talk about his 
own life. After all, we had at least two more 
months of being partnered. I opened my mouth 
to answer his question, but realized I didn't 
have an answer. I racked my brain thinking of 
when this all had started, when our 
relationship took to the next step. I had no 
clue. I couldn't think of just one moment in 
our lives that I said "I'm marrying that 
man". It all manifested itself from our deep 
workings of a relationship, from that dark, 
winding path we had journeyed together. 
Honestly, all those eight years formed layers 
of trust and understanding and love. There 
are only so many layers before you hit being 
in love. We reached that one awhile ago and 
ignored it until our lives were murky and 
dishonest and unhappy. So how many years had 
we been hiding a secret relationship? We 
hadn't been hiding anything from the people 
around us, just ourselves.
 "Not long." I curtly replied. " Did you 
get the address of that couple? I wanted to 
go over and ask them about Rivera tonight." 
Stick to the case, personal issues don't 
belong here. 
 Doggett's eyes wandered over my body. 
"Yeah right here."

 "Agents?" Skinner's secretary appeared 
at the open door. "Skinner needs you right 
away, it's about Agent Mulder."
  

 
JUSTIFIABLE CONJUGALITY 5\5 CHAPTERS 28-34
I spiraled into a dark and lonely 
blackness. Skinner's remorseful voice melted 
into the background as I hit the floor. My world 
became impalpable and hazy. 
 "Agent Scully?!" I could hear Doggett far 
away and concerned. I felt his hands on my side 
and then I was lost in complete unconsciousness. 
 I woke perhaps a few minutes later on 
Skinner's office couch. Doggett kneeled at my 
side with a wet washcloth while Skinner 
fretfully paced the room.
 "I was hoping it was a dream." I noticed a 
film of milky snot on my tongue. "It wasn't was 
it?" 
 "No, he's gone." Doggett directed me to 
sit up and patted my head with the cloth. The 
cool material felt comforting on my flaming 
skin. 
 "Tell me the exact story." I asked 
Skinner. 
 "Do you think you can handle it?" He 
stopped his pacing.
 "Yes." Just because I had fainted didn't 
mean I was weak. A woman has to remember that. 
And I was pregnant, although Skinner and Doggett 
had no clue.
 "I don't know much. All I know is that 
there was a forceful radiance and a few minutes 
of time that the employees can't attest to." I 
watched a trickle of light dance on his glasses, 
revealing a mess of dirt on the lens.  
 "Nine minutes?" I took the cloth from 
Doggett's hand and wiped my nose with it. 
 "Maybe." Skinner cocked an eyebrow. "Do 
you think...think They took him?" 
 Doggett rolled his eyes in a fog of 
skepticism. God, I was like him once. 
 "Yes I do. That's the only explanation. 
But of course, who are They?" For the first time 
I felt my heart speed up and my breath quicken. 
I knew who They were, I knew They wanted him for 
more tests. The fact that I couldn't save him or 
prevent it from happening vacated my soul. "He 
said They were coming back, we just didn't know 
when." 
 "He said They were returning?" Doggett 
helped me off the couch and hovered behind me as 
though I might faint again. I suppose it made 
him feel useful. 
 "Yeah, and I think I know where we should 
go." I swallowed. "Bellefleur Oregon. It's where 
he disappeared the last time. There's something 
about that area, I just think it's a good place 
to start looking." 
 "But wasn't he returned here in DC?" 
Skinner's face dropped.
 "Yes." I sniffed. This was surreal and 
happening too fast. I hadn't even really let 
myself think about what was happening. I focused 
on the fact that we needed to get to Bellfleur 
and investigate. Because investigation ends in 
closure and in happiness. I've worked too long 
on the X-Files to know that's not true but that 
was what I was living on as Doggett accompanied 
me out of Skinner's office and down to our own. 
I had to get our tickets for the plane, I had to 
pack I had to forget that my house would be 
empty when I got there. 

 It wasn't until I buckled my seat belt on 
the plane, nestled between Doggett and a kind 
elderly woman, that I let the evil creep into my 
mind. I wanted to think this was all really a 
nightmare. Did it have something to do with my 
pregnancy? Was this some sort of test Mulder and 
I would be given every few months? Well 
Goddammit, I'm winning this one. We're going to 
win this one. I thought about Mulder's final 
moments before he disappeared. He was visiting a 
suspect for our latest case in Allenstown at an 
office building. And during the day, the sun 
high in the sky, nine minutes evaporated. Mulder 
disappeared and things didn't add up. The 
employees said they witnessed a bright, blinding 
light but nothing else. It wasn't in the forest 
or even out of our own home. It was a crumby 
office building during lunch break. Overcome 
with rage, I tightened my grip on the seatbelt 
as the plane ascended into the murky sky. 
 
"Aliens." Doggett gazed out of the tiny, 
plastic window.
 "What?" I munched on the complimentary 
pretzels. 
 "They don't exist you know." He looked at 
me. "There's no such thing as E.T." 
 I was quiet for a few seconds, thinking as 
I licked the salt off my snack. "I don't care if 
they exist." 
 "But if you think they took Mulder...."
 "I don't give a shit who took Mulder." I 
turned my body away from the woman sitting next 
to me and leaned in toward Doggett. "It doesn't 
matter."
 "I don't understand, he's your husband, 
how could you not care?" His mouth was inches 
from mine as he whispered. 
 "You can't understand. You can't because 
it doesn't make any sort of logical sense. It's 
completely insane really. You see, for eight 
years Mulder and I have been chasing something, 
the Truth, meanwhile this same thing has been 
chasing us. Like a circle." I selected another 
pretzel and popped it into my mouth. Doggett 
said nothing. "Something took me six years ago 
and gave me cancer and made me barren. This same 
thing, establishment, aliens, whatever, they've 
taken Mulder from me once before and they've 
done it again. But you see, I will get him back 
or die trying. The beauty of it is quite simple. 
I've thought that religion is a slight point of 
insanity, and this is too...this is too...." I was 
rambling and quite aware of it. After 
successfully confusing Doggett, I leaned back in 
my seat and finished my bag of pretzels. 

 I didn't know what to do. It's true. I had 
no clue where to start looking. It helped me to 
think what Mulder would do in that situation. 
What his outlandish suggestion would be. I 
realized that most of Mulder's sense for FBI 
work came from intuition. He followed his heart, 
his dreams. And then I knew. The forest was my 
salvation. Where Mulder and I had started our 
journey and where I would find him. 
 I waited in the rental car as Doggett 
reserved rooms in the local and hotel and then 
we were off. Off to the elusive woods on the 
outskirts of Bellefleur. Doggett repeatedly 
asked why we were headed there, what sort of 
evidence we could ascertain from rural Oregon, 
thousands of miles from the sight of 
disappearance. I didn't know. But I felt it was 
right.
 The trees stood tall and slimy moss lined 
the ground. The smell was so recognizable. I 
remembered it from months earlier and from the 
first time I was there, amongst the very same 
foliage. It was dusk as we trekked into the deep 
woods, looking for answers, somehow hoping I 
would stumble upon a spaceship or radioactive 
dirt or maybe Mulder? My mind buzzed and my 
stomach growled. I regretted not taking a snack 
along in my pocket....
 "Agent Scully." I wondered when he'd stop 
putting Agent before name.
 "What?" For some reason I whispered back.
 "Do you see that?" Doggett shone his 
flashlight up toward the fading sun. I didn't 
see anything but a canopy of leaves. 
 "No, why do you see something?" I joined 
him.
 "The sunset, isn't it beautiful? It 
reminds me of the sunsets when I'd visit my Pop 
at his cabin in Wisconsin. It's so colorful and 
inviting, don't you think?" He wiped a bead of 
sweat from his forehead; we had been walking for 
a long while. 
 "We don't have time to look at the sun." I 
huffed. "We've got work to do."
 "Is that what we're doing?" He looked away 
from the picturesque sky and glared down into my 
eyes. "This is work huh?" 
 I said nothing, grinding my lips together 
in annoyance.
 "Please Agent Scully, tell me, what 
progress has come out of this? Flying all the 
way to Goddamn Oregon to search for your missing 
husband. What the hell do you expect to find out 
here? Him? You know, when I joined the Academy I 
was told all these stories about Spooky Mulder, 
the unconventional agent that chased little 
green men. I had no fucking idea his partner was 
as screwed up in the head." Doggett waved his 
flashlight for emphasis, his cheeks burning with 
rage. 
 "I..." A swell of hurt pride washed through 
me. I noticed my surroundings for the first, 
real time. I was ankle deep in dead leaves, 
covered in insect bites and neglecting the baby 
inside me. God, he's right isn't he? I had lost 
control, forced Doggett out to Oregon. Oh my 
God. In some twisted sense of the world I had 
become Mulder. My determination, my flight from 
reality, had taken me from sanity to Bellefleur. 
I buried my face in my sweaty hands and began to 
weep. Hot tears flowed easily from my eyes onto 
my palms as I sucked in deep breaths. Possibly 
contrite, Doggett took me in his limber arms. 
"Take me to the motel." I sobbed.

 It was late, very late. Doggett threw my 
suitcase on the desk and suggested I wipe my 
face off with a cloth. Tired, I dragged my weak 
body into the small bathroom and turned on the 
fluorescent light. Doesn't it always seem that 
the lighting gets brighter the more washed out 
you look. I stared into the mirror for a long 
time, contemplating my features. My eyes looked 
like two pieces of coal in a pile of snow. Black 
and brown eye makeup was streaked down my cheeks 
and my lips involuntarily quivered. I imagined 
what Mulder would say if he saw me. He'd say I 
was beautiful. That made me smile. 
 "I'm going to order a pizza, do you think 
they deliver this late?" Doggett's voice from 
outside. Why couldn't he order food from his own 
room? 
 "Extra cheese, oh and some pineapple. 
Pineapple sounds really good." Well, he was 
probably paying. 
 
By the time I cleaned up, Doggett was 
waiting patiently for the pizza delivery man to 
arrive. He laid comfortably on my bed, flipping 
channels on the remote.
 "About what you said earlier..."
 "I was being an asshole." He turned the 
T.V off and gestured for me to join him on the 
bed. I did.
 "No, no, I think you may be right." 
 "Scully....Dana, I didn't have a right. I 
guess I'm just jealous." He lowered his head 
until his chin rested on his chest.
 "Jealous?" I echoed.
 "Mulder must be a pretty amazing man, it 
seems that he means a lot to you."
 "He does mean a lot to me." I examined my 
fingers, not wanting to discover Doggett's 
facial expression. 
 "I'd love it, really love it, if a woman 
risked her job, her integrity, for a minute 
chance that she might find me. Mulder's a lucky 
guy, and I mean that. Dana you're the most 
amazing women I've ever met." Suddenly I felt 
his hand on my arm, his finger tracing a line up 
to my shoulder. I shuddered, instinctively 
leaning away from Doggett. But, but he pulled me 
toward him. His other hand found my chin and 
tilted it to the left and up, until we were 
mouth to mouth. And then he kissed me. Rigid at 
first, and then his lips pushed against mine 
with urgency. I felt myself kiss him back. He 
pushed me backward onto the bed and lay over me, 
investigating my body with his quick hands. 

 I had to dig deeply into my psyche and 
find the strength I was searching for. I felt 
warm kisses trailing down my neck and his 
persistent tongue buried in my cleavage. I 
mumbled something incoherent, trying to will him 
off of me. 
 "What did you say?" He was pushing my 
blouse up over my swollen belly. 
 "I'm married." I squeezed my eyelids shut. 
 "He's gone." Doggett ran a warm hand over 
my stomach. 
 I finally found it. As though I had struck 
oil, rage bubbled in my chest and I became in 
control of my body. I forcefully pushed him off 
of me and watched as his expression changed from 
amorous to confused. 
 "Dana?" He wiped saliva from his cheek.
 "You son of a bitch." I brought my legs 
underneath me and smoothed down my blouse. "Even 
if he's gone...even if he's gone I'm still married 
to him." 
 Doggett said nothing, his eyes slits of 
anger. 
 "I don't expect you to understand. I 
barely get it myself. But, but...even if Mulder 
never comes back, I'm his wife, his partner. I 
don't hate you. You can't hate ignorance." 
Tearful, I got off the bed and slipped my boots 
on. 
 "Dana, you have to..."
 "I don't have to anything. He's been 
missing a day. A day. And I would rather spend 
my entire life looking for him, remembering him, 
then spending one night with someone like you." 
I hurriedly threw a few things back into my 
suitcase and straightened the covers on the bed. 
Doggett remained silent, watching me with 
contempt. He was embarrassed. I knew that. In 
fact, he was probably worried that Mulder would 
return and kill him. But, I resolved right there 
in my own heart, that I would never tell Mulder. 
I would have liked to say that I instantly threw 
Doggett off of me and proved my strength, but 
all I had proven that night was I drew strength 
from co-dependency. I needed Mulder. I didn't 
want to need him. 
 "Where are you going?" Abashed, Doggett 
followed me out onto the motel patio. 
 "You know," I stood with my suitcase in 
hand, "there was another motel here before this 
one. It got burned down the night I stayed here. 
The first night I spent with Mulder. That night 
he told me about his sister." I looked up into 
the black night, admiring the crescent moon. 
"He's been searching for her for almost thirty 
years. And do you know what?" 
 "What?" He leaned against the doorjamb. 
 "He doesn't love her any less now. 
Actually he loves her even more now then when he 
was a kid. And if I have to be like him, live on 
hope and even fantasy I will. I will because he 
would do the same for me." I stepped off the 
patio and turned my back to Doggett. I walked 
into the gravel driveway and past the line of 
cars. I think Doggett yelled something from the 
room, but I concentrated on the chilly wind 
tickling my nose. In some symbolic way I was 
proving something. I was attaining that glorious 
power back. And, surprising even myself, I kept 
walking. Past main street, past the farms on the 
outskirts of town. The moon and stars lighted my 
simple path toward the forest. I reached the 
first tree and considered taking my flashlight 
out. But I didn't. I used my feet and my one 
free hand to scoot down the leaf covered hill. I 
tested my vision when I settled down in what 
seemed a comfortable area of the vast forest. I 
could feel bark and the sticky sap but couldn't 
see the tree next to me. I tried to look at my 
hand, waving it in front of my face. Nothing. It 
was so dark it felt the same when I closed my 
eyes. I was in the woods by myself, hungry and 
alone. But if I was alone, why did I feel more 
lonesome when I was with Doggett? I thought 
about this as I groped for the latches on my 
suitcase. I felt some material, clothes, and 
laid them out on the soggy ground for a pillow. 
Somehow, in this makeshift universe I had 
created, this felt right. Lying amongst the 
trees and creatures. I was starting to 
understand the obsession Mulder harbored for his 
sister. This obsession, craziness your heart 
feels, it makes you do odd things. I laid an 
extra shirt over my stomach, over our baby, and 
fell asleep quickly. 

 It smelled moist and rugged. It was the 
opposite of the familiar scent of my pillow, my 
husband. A small twig was ground into my cheek, 
leaving a crease underneath my eye. I ran my 
hands over the length of my body, feeling a thin 
layer of dew over my bare skin. Sitting up, I 
used my hand to protect my tired eyes from the 
rising sun. I opened my mouth to say something, 
I suppose to myself, but my throat was dry and 
my stomach empty. I didn't want to waste energy 
on thoughtless words. I hunched over onto my 
knees and felt my palms sink into a bed of mud. 
 It seemed like a great idea last night, I 
thought. The weight of my growing belly pained 
my lower back, so I slowly rose to my aching 
feet. 
 First I found a place near the tree to 
pee. My pregnancy had made urinating a very 
important and necessary part of the day. I then 
combed my damp hair back with my fingers and 
collected the pieces of clothing I had covered 
myself in. After packing up my suitcase, I 
trekked up the hill toward the gravel road and 
with remaining energy walked until I found a 
decent diner. The diner. The very one Mulder and 
I had met Theresa Nemmen, a scared teenager with 
unstoppable nosebleeds. Nosebleeds. I hadn't had 
one of those in years. 
 "Seat yourself." A waitress hollered from 
behind the breakfast counter. "I'll be right 
with you."
 I found a cozy booth in the far back and 
feigned interest of the menu.
 "You don't look so hot." The same waitress 
arrived at my table, pad and pen in hand. She 
was sort of obnoxious looking, with wide, 
inquisitive eyes and pouted lips. She reminded 
me off a young child that still had 
insurmountable hope in her heart.  
 "I don't feel so hot." I croaked. 
 "Are you ready to order, or do you need 
some more time?" She asked.
 "I want this Hungry Man breakfast with 
extra pancakes and a pot of decaf coffee." I 
scratched at a row of insect bites on my left 
hand. Not alien probe marks, just mosquito 
bites. I smiled at that memory.
 "We don't got decaf." The waitress 
interrupted my moment of nostalgic return. 
 "Fine, just regular then." I nodded. 
 The breakfast was huge and the coffee was 
warm and delicious. I ate too quickly, feeding 
myself and the little baby inside of me. I 
gulped the coffee, feeling slightly guilty for 
going against my vow of no caffeine. A while 
passed and the waitress returned to give me my 
reasonable bill and clear my plates. 
Rejuvenated, I lugged my suitcase out the door 
and toward the motel.
 
"Where the fuck have you been? I've been 
worried about you." Doggett swung the door open, 
a wash of relief on his boyish face. 
 "Don't swear. It doesn't look good on 
you." I pushed my luggage into his chest and he 
obligingly took it. 
 "Well? Where have you been?" He followed 
me into the motel room, his voice flustered and 
cracking. 
 "Thinking." I peeked into the bathroom, 
looking for clean towels. 
 "Oh?" 
 "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I 
came to a conclusion." 
 "And that is?" He was calming down.
 "I have one thing of Mulder's." I leaned 
over and untied my filthy boots. "And I need to 
take care of it. I've been neglecting it way too 
much. I haven't even been to the doctor in a 
month. A month!" I unclasped my watch.
 "What?" Doggett sat on the end of the bed.
 "I'm going home and taking care of it, 
meanwhile I'm going to immerse myself in alien 
abduction files. I'm going to try and find a 
common thread, the best place to look for him, 
you know?"
 "I'm glad you've come to your senses, but 
what is it that you need to take care of?" He 
leaned back on the mattress, eyeing me with 
understandable confusion.
 "Our baby." I patted my belly.   

 Time eases all things. Who said that? 
Whoever said it is a complete jackass. That 
concept is overrated. The truth is that time 
distorts things. Our perception of what life was 
like a month ago is different then life 
yesterday. Everything seems better in the past, 
smiles seem brighter, and love seems purer. In 
reality, time causes or exacerbates pain. 
There's a belief that philisopher Plato wrote in 
one of his many books. He talked of our 
personalities being like chariots. The horses 
are our passions and desires and the man with 
the whip is our reason. Our desires pull us into 
many different directions while reason whips us 
back into shape. And do you know what? I've 
spent my entire life as the reason, gripping the 
whip of shame, scolding the passion in my heart. 
I learned this over a course of a few months, as 
I watched my belly bulge and grow. 
I spent most of my time at home, buried 
under a sea of U.F.O books. My mother and 
Doggett helped me best they could, stopping by 
with meals or pitiful words of support. 
Technically I hadn't seen Mulder's face in four 
months. Four months. But I had a secret. When I 
was home alone, which was quite often, I let 
myself wander through my subconscious and linger 
in temporary memories. I'd slowly remind myself 
of his facial features, of those pouted lips and 
jagged nose. My mind's eye would cover his 
entire body, remembering his expressive hands 
and softly coarse hair. I'd think of our 
partnership, every detail and word we shared. 
I'd think of our marriage, how it defied my 
reason and was somehow controlled by desire. 
People think desire is confusing and disorderly. 
It's not. If you really desire something, if 
it's so much a part of you, then passion can be 
controlled. It can be channeled into complete 
happiness. So I was happy yet eternally sad at 
the same time. My pregnancy was going quite 
well, almost nine months. The most common 
question, or perhaps complaint, was that Mulder 
wasn't there to see the baby grow inside of me. 
But what the others didn't understand is that he 
was there more then any of them could ever be. 
He was there when I closed my eyes, there when I 
talked to our unborn baby. His blood was pumping 
inside of me and so was the memory of him. I had 
controlled it all. Time wouldn't punish me. Even 
if he never came back he was more integral in my 
life then my mother, then Doggett, Skinner, even 
our baby. I loved our baby already, but it would 
never own me like Mulder did. Yes, own me. He 
does really, and though it might contradict my 
feminist shell, it is true. But I own him, he is 
mine. Reciprocal ownership is the best sort of 
love. Or is it love? I've questioned that, as I 
skimmed through paranormal books looking but not 
reading. Do we love each other or are we 
responsible for the other? Both. I lay down the 
whip, and pat reason on its logical head. I love 
him. I owe him. I will live for him. My God, I 
knew him better then I know myself. Except after 
four months of being alone, no matter how many 
people came to visit, I was alone, I started to 
understand myself. I thank the Cosmos for that 
opportunity. After all this self-exploration 
I've come to a sort of odd conclusion. If I ever 
see my husband again, I have one question for 
him. Just one, and if he answers it right I'll 
believe he's telling the truth. The truth. That 
idea has plagued me, us, for so many years. All 
Mulder ever wanted was to find the truth, that 
blinding light of awakening that would save him 
from infinite guilt. His quest turned into our 
lives, and soon we forgot what we were even 
looking for, blind-sighted by cancer or 
abductions or love. Has truth eluded us, or have 
we stumbled across it, too ignorant to feel it 
all around us? I believe I've seen truth. And 
this Truth has no alien nature. It is 
indefatigably powerful, presenting us with our 
lives and how they really are. Not the sort of 
car we drive or the shade of hair dye we 
purchase, but the relationships and the Spirit 
that lives inside of us. Truth has shown me the 
sort of woman I am, eternally beautiful and 
intelligent. I'm A G-Woman, a wife, a lover, a 
friend, a daughter, a sister, a soon to be 
mother, a soul mate. Where have I seen truth? In 
Mulder's eyes. He proves there's Truth everyday. 

"Dana?" My mother ran a warm finger over 
my forehead, rousing me from a nostalgic dream. 
"Hmmm?" I arched my back, noticing the 
weight in my stomach. 
"I have wonderful news Honey." She 
whispered, her voice wavering with each word.
"Yeah?" I pushed myself against the 
headboard, immediately resting my hands on my 
bare belly. I could feel the baby's shoulder or 
knee pushing under my skin. It wasn't painful, 
but rather jolting.
"Very wonderful news." Mom repeated, 
nervously pulling at her right earlobe. 
"Did the packages come from Doubleday? I 
was looking forward to the books on the Montana 
incidents, you know that's a very popular state 
for U.F..."
"Listen!" Mom gently grabbed my shoulders, 
kneading her fingers into my flesh. "It's got 
nothing to do with flying saucers, Dana, 
nothing."
"You're going to have to tell me what it 
is then." I gave a fleeting smile. 
"He woke up. He was in a coma again, they 
didn't know who we was for a few hours but then 
he woke up and they have him, Dana they have 
him." 
"What?" My mother's figure turned into a 
blinding mush before me, and I could feel my 
hands shake with anxiousness. 
"The hospital, they found him in the ER 
ward just like before, he's awake and in stable 
condition, he's at the hospital, it's him for 
sure." I think she started crying but I couldn't 
tell for sure.
"Well," I smiled an honest smile. "That 
has everything to do with flying saucers." 

Sophocles. He's the one that said time 
eases all things. I concentrated on Sophocles 
and his perfunctory ideology. I don't think he's 
ever been in love. I know he's never been in 
love. That's another thing I'd been finding out 
about myself. There's more information in my 
mind than I thought I could ever hold. Along 
with the scientific table, I've been able to 
memorize the most mundane parts of my life. But, 
perhaps it's a clue that I bothered to remember 
them. Every small look, feel, statement, they 
are important in this other view of reality. The 
perception of reality I had arrived at. Ah, but 
I digress. 
 The definition of my fate was held so 
tightly in Mulder's hands. Every step closer to 
his hospital room was one farther from my heart. 
I needed to understand that if he wasn't all 
right; if he was sick and dying, my heart would 
burst and life would change. I had to understand 
that if he were fine, chomping on hospital 
gelatin, that my heart would burst and my life 
would change. Yet the real cause of my ruptured 
soul was that question. Please let me ask him. 
If he answers right I'll be okay with this 
world, with the after-world. Please let me ask 
him.
 "112, I can see it from here." Mom held my 
trembling hand, her own vibrating in simpatico. 
 "It's so close, I..." There was a sudden 
sensation in my lower belly. "Oh God." 
 "What is it?" Mom patted my head as 
Doggett stood in confused silence. "What is it 
Dana?!"
 "My water broke." I flipped up my 
maternity shirt and pulled down my cotton pants. 
Clear liquid oozed down my inner thighs.
 "Your water what?" Doggett huffed.
 "My...my...my..." The pain hit me like a bullet, 
resonating through my entire womb. I was having 
a contraction. Things blurred after that, the 
agony returning in waves as Doggett searched for 
a doctor and Mom murmured support in my ear. I'm 
not sure how long it took, but Doggett came back 
with a female obstetrician.
"I'm having my baby." It was an idiotic 
thing to say, but it felt comforting to tell 
her. She said something back and then I was 
helped on to a wheelchair. Another contraction 
hit my body and I tensed, digging my nails into 
the cheap pseudo-leather seat. I was wheeled 
into an elevator and then went up or down to 
another floor. 
 "Where's Doggett? Where is he?" Mom and 
the doctor lifted me up onto a hospital bed.
 "He's gone to tell Mulder what's going 
on." Mom replied. 
 "Mulder?" His name was like sugar to me, 
and somehow it made my contraction dull. It was 
like my attention shifted from body to mind at 
the mere mention of him. I loved that. "Is he..." 
I felt myself hyperventilating. "Is he going to 
come visit me? I'm having our baby, you know." 
Another odd thing to say, but those horses, 
those desires were controlling me. And I was 
okay with that leap of faith. Because it doesn't 
matter what Mom or the doctor or anyone thinks 
of me, I know the Truth.
 "I'm going to check how many centimeters 
you are." The doctor pushed me back and pulled 
down my pants. Modesty seemed trivial at a 
moment like that.
 "Wow." Is all she said.
 "Wow what?!" Mom swung her head in a 
nervous rage.
 "You're already eight centimeters, Ms. 
Scully is it?"
 "Eight? No...that's too fast." I sat up, 
feeling the area for myself. It did feel like 
eight centimeters. Christ, I was quick. 
 "Ms. Scully, I'm going to call some nurses 
and we're going to start pushing in a few 
minutes, okay?" 
 "It's Mrs. Mulder. Mulder okay? Okay?" 
Another contraction. "And I can't...I can't have 
the baby until I ask him something. I have to 
ask him something. It's very important and I 
have to ask him and I have to." I repeated it a 
few more times, acutely aware of the mixture of 
sweat and hair plastered to my face.
 She ignored me, getting all her 
instruments ready and talking procedure with the 
head nurse. Bitch. I actually thought that as I 
writhed with pain. She's so blind. So blind to 
it all. 
 I pressed my feet hard into the metal 
stirrups, trying to breath rhythmically along 
with Mom. Huff. Huff. Inhale. Exhale. Oh. Oh is 
that him? I stopped the breathing exercises and 
watched Doggett push a bed on wheels into the 
room. 
 "Mulder?" 

 "Please lay back so I can check dilation." 
The doctor, an unattractive woman with an 
evident moustache, tapped my shoulders. 
 "No, wait." My head was to the side, 
trying to look between two nurses. Everything 
was loud and busy and quick. I couldn't see him, 
yet he was right there. It was the most awful 
feeling to feel his presence, but not see his 
face. With weak hands, I pushed the two nurses 
apart and leaned to my left.
 "Mulder? You there?" I repeated a few 
times, and then a bed was rolled next to mine. 
Side to side. His face appeared inches from me 
in a sort of beautifully, contrived manner. 
Everything went silent. Well, of course not 
literally, but in my own head and I think his 
too.
 "You're having the...?" He raised his head 
from the pillow, and reached out his hand. It 
landed on my forearm, sending a chill of emotion 
through my body. Every feeling pulsed through 
me. Excitement, pleasure, shock. 
 I think the doctor told me to lay flat, 
but I didn't abide. We had created this world 
between the two strange nurses, our eyes locked 
in an understanding gaze. 
 "I love you." I carefully mouthed this, 
needing to stay quiet in our reality. This is 
the reality I was talking about. The Real 
reality, where things are distorted in an 
amazing way. Where every little blink, hand 
movement and tiny word is a symbol of our love. 
You won't understand until you find yourself 
there someday. 
 Then I had a horrendous contraction. The 
pain caused me to break Reality's concentration 
as I grabbed onto the bed sheets for support. I 
could feel Mulder's hand tense as I bellowed in 
agony. 
 "I'm here. I'm here." Is all he said, but 
it meant so many things. 
 "I have a question." I breathed as my pain 
dulled.
 "We're ready. I want only two nurses here 
with me, Flora, grab the instruments." The 
doctor's voice was like white noise in the 
background. I didn't care.
 "What do you want to ask?" Mulder leaned 
over the rails of his bed, cupping my face in 
his cold hands. His chilly skin felt wonderful 
on my blazing cheeks. 
 "Well it's just that....I...well you see it 
has to do with...it seems stupid now." 
 "You're going to have to quit the chatter 
and start pushing, the baby is ready to come out 
now." Ugly doctor said. 
 "Don't listen, what do you want to ask me? 
Quickly, just ask me." Somehow Mulder knew how 
important this was to me. He had been living in 
my head for so long. 
 I bit my lip as the stress in my hips 
built. "Mulder, I'm just afraid that when you 
see it, the baby, when you see it, you'll think 
it's so perfect and you'll forget about us. I 
don't want you to be a father before you're my 
husband. I want our love to be stronger then 
your love for it, the baby. Is that selfish?" 
 "Push!!" A nurse pressed down on my spread 
knees.
 Mulder smiled. His teeth gleaming and eyes 
twinkling. The he started laughing, tears 
spurting from the corner of those hazel orbs. 
 "I was afraid of that too." He choked. 
 "What?" The sensation, the need, to push 
rose in my belly and I did.
 "I was afraid of that too. I thought you 
were going to forget about me and you'd love it 
more then you love me, and I'm just as selfish 
as you." Mulder was perched on the rail, held 
back only by an IV tube in his arm. I saw 
Doggett for the first time, and watched as he 
removed the medicine tube from Mulder. My 
husband leapt off of his cot, and I noticed how 
thin he had become. Thin yet so gorgeous in his 
hospital smock. 
 "You're going to have to concentrate on 
the baby, Mrs. Mulder. You're going to have to 
push a few more times." The doctor yelled from 
under the blanket that covered my legs. I 
guessed it was sort of like a tent under there. 
 "I can concentrate now." I said. Mulder 
slipped an arm underneath me and made me sit up 
in his embrace. It hurt. I've been shot and 
beaten and gone through cancer, but this agony 
in my belly and hips was like an uncontrollable 
fire. 
 "So you promise if I promise?" I wailed as 
I pushed for what felt like the hundredth time. 
 "Promise? Promise to love you more than 
our kid? I'll love it, you know that, we both 
will, we made it, but nothing will come between 
us. You know that too. So, I promise." He 
whispered, holding tightly as I trembled.
 "One more." The doctor instructed. One 
more. Just one more push and we would have a 
baby. Our own that we would take home. We could 
take home. I wouldn't carry it in the house 
alone, wrapped in the correct swaddling. Mulder 
and I would bring it over the threshold 
together, raise it together. I wasn't going to 
let Them take him from anymore. We had a baby in 
just one more push. So I gripped the medal 
stirrups with my toes and dug my nails into 
Mulder's flesh.
 "One more." He was trying to hide the fact 
that he was crying by rapidly blinking his eyes.
 I pushed and after a few long seconds I 
heard the cry. It was gravelly and primal, a 
confused but normal cry. Feeble, I fell back 
against Mulder and waited to hear the sex. 
 "It's your very own girl." One of the 
nurses held you in her arms. Mulder lifted my 
head so I could see you. Truthfully, you were 
red and covered in slime, but I thought you were 
beautiful right away. She handed your little 
frail body to me, and I felt your limbs hit my 
chest as you flailed about. I was only able to 
hold you a little bit then, they had to check 
your fingers, toes, and heartbeat. 
 "Mulder," I yawned from labor not boredom. 
"She has your little lips." I tilted my head 
back and let your father kiss me for the first 
time in months. It was warm and Real and calmed 
my shaking nerves. I hadn't realized how nervous 
I was until after you were born. I suppose I had 
a lot on my mind. 
So that's it. I've never shared these 
things with anyone before, and I'll never share 
it again. You might wonder why I detailed our 
love life or told you about the miscarriage. I 
can because although our secret life is sacred 
it could never be described with words. I shared 
all of this with you, Samantha, because you're 
so important to me, to us. I love you, and want 
you to know what the world was like, the 
universe we had created, before you joined us. I 
haven't shared much, only an inkling of what Dad 
and my relationship is like. But I'll write 
more, sometime in the future, and tell you more 
about my cancer, and about the entities that 
take Dad away from us now and again. I want to 
write down everything, even the mundane cases we 
worked on, just so that you can see things 
through my eyes for a while. Understand that 
although I might be a mother, I'm a woman too. I 
suppose I find it urgent to note all of this 
because of the line of work your father and I 
are in. It's dangerous and perhaps even immature 
but we can't seem to give the X-Files up. I want 
you to understand me for the mere purpose of 
understanding yourself better. I've gone through 
so much pain in my life, and at the same time I 
am extremely lucky. There's a string in my heart 
that gets pulled every once in awhile, telling 
me that not everyone has a Mulder in their life. 
I'm worried that you will never find someone to 
show you Reality. So, I suppose in my own 
pitiful way, I'm trying to give you a hint of 
what it's like. Why? Because I love you. We love 
you.

     Love Mom
     Feb 23 2009

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