From: "Dream Cole" Date: Tue, 14 Mar 2000 07:33:15 CST Subject: xfc: NEW: Leaving (1 of 1), PG, MSR Source: xfc From: "Dream Cole" Title: Leaving Author: Dream Cole E-mail: dreamcole@hotmail.com Archive: Just let me know. Rating: PGish. Classifications: V, MSR (Okay, MSM), S Spoilers: None. But I'm ignoring any episode that said Scully could not have children. So you can say it didn't happen or there was some miracle between then and now. Summary: Mulder and Scully can't bear to leave their daughter. Disclaimer: I don't own em. I'd like to, but I don't. Notes: Be warned: if you are one of those who complained I explained too much detail, run away! This is all Mulder's thoughts and he notices a lot and says very little. By the way, I call Scully... Scully, among other pet names. I can't see them (Mulder and Scully) suddenly calling each other Fox and Dana. Leaving "What else does she need? I've got bottles ready, diapers, wipes, toys, her blanket, her stuffed animal... Am I missing something?" I pause from the book I was reading aloud to my daughter to turn to my wife, pacing the floor and, clearly, panicking. "Sweetie, will you relax? She'll be fine. Oh, don't forget that book she likes to suck on," I hide the need to laugh as Scully frantically searches for the hardcover book. Turning back to Dream, I find her gnawing contentedly on the pages. Pulling her away, I continue explaining all the details to her, "Can you see the balloon? Where's the balloon? See, right there. Now, look, there's a cloud. That's right, in the sky. And there's the sun..." Realizing my wife has been too quiet, I look up to find her on the floor, looking under the couch. "Honey..." I snicker as she bumps her head on the couch, then, as she turns to look at me, I bow my head. "I doubt she'll miss the book that much. We *are* only going out for a few hours, not for the rest of her life. Besides, I'm sure your mother has plenty of things for her to play with. I think the question is, are *you* ready?" I smile as she considers my statement, then disappears into the bedroom. It's understandable that she's nervous. Truth be told, I'm a bit worried too. It's not that I don't trust my mother-in-law. It's just we've never been that far away from her. The daycare where Dream stays during the day is located in the Bureau, only a few minutes away, less if necessary. But tonight my wife and I are going out on a date. That does sound weird, that I'm going out on a date with my wife. But it seems that we never have any time to ourselves so, while Scully's mother takes care of our darling daughter at her house, we are going to have a night out on the town. Or rather, we're going to have dinner and, most likely, will rush back to pick up Dream. We're very neurotic. But what can I say? We've accepted it and we've moved on. "So, what do you think?" I turn around and can't help but smile. There stands my 'date', in a long, deep red dress, somewhere between casual and elegant. Her auburn locks, which she has been letting grow, are loose around her shoulder and, dangling off that gold chain of hers is that cross. I sigh. Satisfied that my daugher is occupied and is not off to destroy anything, I make my way over to my wife. "Hey, you wouldn't want to go out with my tonight, would you?" She indulges me and my little game, making me love her even more. "Maybe. But my husband might get mad," she says coyly. The sound of little hands clapping and the silvery bells of my daughter giggling make us turn around to delight in the sight before us. Our baby girl sits in the middle of the floor, obviously amused by her parents. We don't want to leave Dream, we just want to take her with us and hold her tight and never let her go. But I go off to change as Scully continues getting organized, all the while struggling to stay clean from grubby fingers and spilled food. Eventually we make our way to grandmother's house. Mrs. Scully is standing before us, holding our little Dream in her arms. "Now, don't worry. She'll be fine. We'll have ourself a bit of fun, right pet?" We look down at the content child and, satisfied that she would survive, say our goodbyes (which last quite a while) and leave. "Do you think my mother remembered to put on the diaper rash cream? And did we forget the tape of lullabies?" I rub my eyes with my hands. I love my wife. I do. But try as I might to remember that, I am about to kill her. "Sweetie, please. We said we wouldn't talk about Dream tonight. Tonight is just for *us*, remember?" I struggle to make my wife understand and relax but her eyes are still filled with worry. "I just hate leaving her. I mean, I know we've left her behind in daycare, but I *know* Sally... Not that I don't know my own mother is capable. It's just..." "Different, I know. Remember, your mother raised you. And, I'd have to say, you didn't turn out quite badly. I seriously doubt your mother would have problems with our daughter for a few hours." Dinner is finished and we are slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor. How comfortable I am right now, how happy, with the love of my life in my arms, as we turn circles to such peaceful music. The only other time I feel like this is when it's the three of us, Scully, Dream and I, dancing together... No, I'm not supposed to think of Dream. What am I crazy? How can I not think of my daughter? I guess if it were easy for me that would make me a bad father. Well, I'm not a bad father and proud of it! I turn down to look at Scully and find her gaze fixed on mine. I give in. So here it is. Nine in the evening. Probably the shortest date in history. But I don't mind. Because right now everything is right. Right now my wife and my daughter and I are dancing together and nothing could be more perfect. Leaving isn't easy but coming back always is. Author's note: I'm not quite sure if there is a daycare facility in the FBI building; if there isn't, there should be. Either way, for my purposes, I've created one and I'm sorry if you can't handle that. LOL. I'll probably encorporate it into other parts of this series. I hope you enjoyed this, feedback, as usual, is appreciated. In other words: EMAIL ME!