From: Linda Caniano Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2000 05:42:24 -0800 (PST) Subject: m/s Source: direct Title: Motherhood Disclaimer: They belong to Chris Carter, Ten- thirteen Fox Broadcasting, etc. This for fun not for profit. Author: Licani Author's Note: Just a possibility, and not as much fun as others I can think of. Comments welcome. licani01@yahoo.com Rating: G, Summary: How Scully got pregnant. Scully woke with a start, another dream, nightmare really, that she couldn't remember. At times the loneliness was just too much for her, and sleep was the only answer, but even then her loneliness intruded. She got up, used the bathroom-an all-to- common occurrence these days. She walked thoughtfully into the living room, and flipped on the TV. At 5 am there wasn't much to watch, but then again she'd never been much of a watcher. TV was simply not on her "to do" list. She preferred to get her news from the paper where it wouldn't be peppered with inane comments or phony expressions of concern. She sat down heavily, something that was becoming habit now even though she'd only gained five pounds in the last three months. "Is that how long it's been, just three months?" she thought, "It's only been three months since he was taken?" Only three months without Mulder, it seemed more like years. She saddened again. This should have been the best time of her life. She was pregnant. The doctors had told her more than once that it would be impossible. Was this the price for her child; was losing Mulder the price fate would exact on her? She flipped off the set, and sank back into the couch. She closed her eyes and remembered. Her appointment with Dr. Morley was in just two hours. She and Mulder had just come from a meeting with A. D. Skinner. They were assigned to..., what was it they were assigned to, another bizarre murder: no blood, no guts, no eyes. Mulder searched for the truth; Agent Scully just searched for explanations. They would leave on a 4 pm fight from Dulles to arrive in Nebraska by 9. They'd take hotel rooms for the night, then proceed to Rory, a small dot about 70 miles north of Omaha to meet with law enforcement officials at the crime scene. "Do you want me to pick you up on my way to the airport?" she asked Mulder as the elevator descended to the basement. "OK, Scully, but can you make it a little early. I want to pick up my new glasses on the way. "I'm not sure; I have some business to take care of this morning and I don't know how long it will take. I'll try." "No big deal; if I don't get them now, I'll pick them up on the way home." "I'll try to be there by 2:00, but no guarantees, OK." Scully arrived just a few minutes before her 11:30 appointment. When the office called to arrange it, the receptionist simply said that the doctor want to see her, that her test results were in and he had something to discuss with her. Dr. Morley was a specialist in fertility, and if reports were to be believed, was responsible for thousands of pregnancies. Scully chuckled, "well, not that kind of responsible." "You may go in now Miss Scully." "Miss Scully," it had been a long time since any one had called her Miss Scully. Agent, Agent Scully, even Dr. Scully was more usual. Only Mulder called her Scully, never Dana, just Scully. It used to irritate her, now it was her name. "Good morning, Dana." "Good morning, Doctor." She had neglected to tell him that her degrees were as long as his, maybe longer. Just now she wanted to be treated like a woman, not a medical doctor who could use the jargon and stay disassociated from the problem. That fact is that at thirty-five Dana Scully wanted to be a mother, maybe a wife someday, but right now, before it was too late, Dana Scully wanted a child. "The fact is Dana... Well, I may have some encouraging news for you." After close to a half hour of semi-scientific explanations which Scully followed better than Dr. Morley knew. It was all laid out. Just one thing remained. "I know you are not married Dana, but do you have anyone in mind as a sperm donor?' Dr. Morley asked "Yes... no. I don't know, maybe." "Well you have some time. Make an appointment for next week, and we can discuss procedure dates, and alternate sources, if you want." "Oh God," though Scully as she left the office. Maybe, maybe if she did everything just right it would be possible. She smiled at the thought of motherhood. She might be a mother; she could be a mother. But if she was to be a mother that meant the child needed a father, a biological father to be sure, but a father none-the-less. This was definitely something she hadn't given much thought to. As a matter of fact, she had just assumed that it would be taken care of. Now what? Scully picked up Mulder at 2:00, as he had asked. After collecting his new glasses, they drove on to the airport. What do you think, Scully? "Huh?" "My new glasses? Makes me look quite impressive, don't you think?" "Sure, Mulder--very dashing." The fact is that he was handsome, maybe even dashing. She had forgotten that. Day-to-day relationships do that, sort of dull the senses to what you were once very aware of. "What about the case? Do you think it's an X file?" "To tell you the truth, Mulder, I haven't thought about it. I've had some other stuff on my mind. Mulder, not everything Skinner sends us out on has the makings of an X file. Sometimes it just a plain, old-fashioned whacko, a homicidal maniac. Nothing to do with the paranormal." "Could be..." As they pulled into the airport's long term parking lot, Scully was unsettled and more than a bit apprehensive. Mulder could tell something was wrong, but he wasn't sure if he should say or ask anything. After seven years of partnering, he was still never quite sure just where that line between professional and personal was for them. It seemed to shift almost on a daily basis. In the meantime, he thought it best to keep the conversation light, and wait for her to indicate her preference. The terminal was busy, but since they carried their bags, they quickly checked in, and proceeded to the gate. Mulder continued to talk, but it was a random, mostly one sided conversation. "Hey Scully, did you know that Omaha is just about dead center U. S.? So when they talk about middle America, Omaha is it. Nebraska is the Corn Husker State, Scully. "Uh huh, right. About two hours into the flight, Scully seemed to suddenly snap out of her funk. She looked hard at Mulder, but then she fell back into a haze. Mulder, who had napped, then read most of the way, was unaware that his partner had just had an epiphany of sorts, and was now completely ready for the next phase of her life. They pulled into the motel parking lot just after 11pm. It had been a long day for Scully, but she needed to talk now. Mulder was her partner, and he was her best friend. She needed to talk to him. "Hey Mulder, you feel like a drink or something?" Since neither of them usually drank liquor, it was implicitly understood that a soft drink, soda or iced tea, was what was suggested. "Ok, Scully. Your place or mine?" he joked. "Go hang up your stuff and come over in about ten minutes." Each of them let themselves into their rooms. Scully quickly took out her clothes and hung them neatly in the closet. Then she changed into a pair of sweats and put on socks. Her feet were usually cold, so putting on socks was simply something she did out of habit. She dared not think about what she was going to tell Mulder. This was deeply personal, and therefore difficult for her to talk about. A soft tap on her door, and Mulder was in her room. "Hey Scully, what's up?" He handed her a diet decaffeinated Coke, while he opened his own fully loaded one. Though he sensed something serious was on her mind, he decided it was up to her to bring it out. He walked over to her bed, pulled the pillows from under the bedspread and placed them against the headboard, then stretched his body out on her bed. As Scully watched his actions, she realized that without doubt he was her best friend. What was it then that still kept that reserve in place? What kept them from ... . She didn't even know what to call it. There were still subjects that they never shared. When the conversation threatened to become too personal, they just changed the subject. It wasn't even a conscience thing; it was automatic, as if they just couldn't be that close. Tonight she would have to change that. She would have to ask something of him so intensely personal that she still didn't know if she could do it. There seemed to be no other way than to just start. "Mulder, this morning, that appointment I had, it was with my doctor, and..." Immediately he was next to her. His worst fear was that her cancer would become active, that she would become sick again, that she could die. He grabbed her shoulders and looked at her. It took her a minute to realize what he was thinking. "No, no Mulder, it's not the cancer. It's still in remission. No this is something else. It's, well, it's ... I've been seeing a new gynecologist. Someone who has been highly recommended and ... Mulder, he thinks I have a chance to become pregnant. "Scully, that's great. That's what you want, isn't it. I know how hard you took it when they told you you'd never conceive. Oh, Scully, I'm so happy for you." He started forward to hug her, but was stopped but by her unusual expression and by his own thoughts. How would this affect her; more selfishly, how would this affect them? Would she quit the Bureau to raise a child? My God, would she marry? For as close as they were, he knew he didn't know everything about her personal life. He was more than reasonably sure that she wasn't seeing anyone on a regular basis. Their professional lives were too demanding, and he knew she never made calls to tell someone that she'd be out of town for a few days. But he knew Scully, and knew she liked all her ducks in a row: she'd want her child to have a father. "I am, I really happy for you," he said again. "The thing is Mulder, well I guess there's no other way to say this than to say it. Mulder, I need a father." What was she saying? Was she asking for a suggestion, a volunteer? Mulder couldn't think of a thing to say. She was Scully; she was his best friend. What did she want from him? He couldn't say that he'd never thought of her that way. He was male after all and she was very attractive, but that was always secondary, first to their professional relationship, and then later to their friendship. Scully saw the look on his face. What had she said? Why did he suddenly loose his smile? Oh my God! The thing is Mulder, the doctor wants to try in- vitrio fertilization. He thinks that with the few eggs I have left that this would be a good bet. If it takes, then the zygote would be implanted in my womb and the rest of the pregnancy would proceed normally. He asked me this morning if I had a father in mind. Mulder, you're my best friend; I want you. Do you think..., what do you think?" Watching his face for some kind of reaction, and seeing none, she added, "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to assume any responsibility for this child. It's just that I'd rather know what I'm getting than take a chance. Mulder, you're smart, reasonable attractive, and you're a good person. Besides," she added, trying to lighten the conversation, "you're tall. God knows, any child of mine could use a little height." So there it was, all the cards were laid out, and the proverbial ball was in his court. She looked at him, still unable to read his expression. Mulder's mind reeled at the implications. Be the father of Scully's child; have their child; share the responsibility of a child...but, Scully said she didn't want him to have any responsibility to this child. Mulder didn't understand. Their child, not his responsibility. What did she think...? Why would she say something so deliberately hurtful? Didn't she think him capable of being a father? No, he couldn't father a child then just walk away from it, from a daughter or a son? The child would be part of him. My god, did she really think so little of him? What could he say? "Scully, I..., Scully I can't do that." Is she really hearing this, Mulder refused. She had thought she could ask anything of him. He looked both confused and hurt. But why, hadn't she just asked him to father her child? She thought that if not enthusiastic for her, then at least he would be what: honored, flattered? What was wrong with this picture? Why was this happening, and why now when everything could be perfect? "OK, Mulder. It was just a thought," she barely managed to say. It was evident that she was hurt, but just why Mulder couldn't really understand. Why didn't she know how much her flippant, "I don't expect you to take any responsibility..." remark had hurt him. Didn't she trust him? "Scully, I don't think you understand." "It's OK Mulder, really. It's OK. It was just a thought." "No, Scully, it is not OK. Let me explain. You want me to father a child by you, but you don't want me involved. Scully, you are my best friend, probably my only real friend. I trust you with my life, but you don't seem to trust me. I can't just donate sperm and walk away. If we are friends, then we are friends for the duration. This will be my child, too, and I want to be involved. I want to be a father. I don't have to live with you, but I will not be simply missing. I could not watch this child growing up thinking a father is just someone involved in conception. We may not be lovers, but I do love you. And I come as a package deal. "I just didn't think..." "That's right, you didn't think. You know I'm right. Your child, our child deserves more than a mother, he deserves a father, too. Besides I think we make a pretty good team. Special Agent Dana Scully pulled herself up from her memories. Over and over she repeated her mantra, "I will find him, I will find him," but as the days passed her faith faltered, and she believed it less and less. --0-378409503-975246144=:8437--