Date: 4 Mar 1996 04:52:57 GMT From: "joan the english chick" Subject: NEW? "Potentialities" 1/1 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative I can't remember if I already posted this, so I'm posting it now. if you've already seen it, sorry. This is a romance story rated about PG-13 for some language and mild sexual situations. It contains spoilers for "Sygyzy" (sp?) and "Grotesque." All comments, suggestions, chocolate, marriage proposals etc. to fic@englishchick.com and if you have any flames, insults, mailbombs or the like, try president@whitehouse.gov ;) -joan the english chick ---Forwarded text begins--- "Potentialities" Copyright 1996 joan the english chick. Mulder, Scully and the X-Files are the property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions and Fox Television. The situations contained herein are not intended as copyright infringement and the characters are used without permission. All rights to this story are reserved by the author, including retransmission and reproduction. Mulder rang the doorbell for the third time, then knocked firmly on the door. "Scully? You home?" There was no reply. Mulder dropped his hand from the door and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, feeling puzzled. He knew he hadn't misunderstood. He and Scully had agreed, earlier in the day at the office, that he would come over to her place tonight at 7:00, with dinner, and they would finish up the report on what he had come to think of as "the gargoyle murders." And here it was, 7 on the dot, and here he was bearing pizza, but Scully didn't appear to be home. Concerned, Mulder moved to the window and peered in. To his surprise, Scully was sitting on the sofa in the living room, holding something in her hands. "Scully?" he called again. She didn't respond. Returning to the door, Mulder tried the knob and discovered it was unlocked. Reluctantly, he turned the knob and let himself in. "Hey, Scully, what's going on?" he asked with real worry in his voice, pulling hut behind him. Once inside, he could see that it was a calendar she held in her lap, but her gaze, though directed at it, was unfocused. "Scully?" After a moment, she came to herself and looked up. "Mulder...." she said, and worked her mouth soundlessly for a moment, her lips shaping words that went unbreathed. Finally she said simply, "I think I'm pregnant." She held up the calendar and waved it vaguely. Mulder could see that a few dates were circled, presumably related to those arcane feminine cycles. Trying to remain dispassionate, Mulder analyzed his initial reactions to the statement: shock. Jealousy...fear. Would he lose his partner? How would he ever find another partner who could treat him with the perfect mixture of tolerance, indulgence and skepticism? What would he do if Scully disappeared from his life? the idea was too painful to contemplate. "I, um..." He knew he had to be careful what he said. Clearly, she was less than happy about this. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone." He felt a stab of pain at the thought of her in another man's arms.... ridiculous, they were both free agents, both unattached....Now he saw she was giving him an indecipherable look. It contained elements of her usual Mulder-you're-an-idiot and Mulder-you're-being- annoying looks, but there was a whole mess of other emotion he couldn't identify. "I'm not." Not? "But..." The next thought was too horrible...Mulder experienced a sickening sensation, like a black hole in his gut. "Scully, were you raped?" Would that explain how strangely she'd been acting...how disconnected she'd seemed from him? The way their close partnership, their instinctive unspoken communication, had seemed to fail them during the gargoyle case? Her expression changed; now it was simply Mulder-you're-an-idiot. "I know how to defend myself, Mulder." The relief he felt was physical, the knot in his stomach slowly easing. He left the forgotten pizza on the table by the door and went over to the sofa, sitting down beside his partner. "Dana...tell me what's going on. If you're not seeing anyone, how can you be...." "Quit jerking me around, Mulder." Her voice was harsh. He was taken aback. Was this a mood swing? "What do you mean?" Scully looked at him, first angry, then surprised. She registered the honest bewilderment on his face and her eyebrows shot up. "Mulder...do you mean to tell me you don't remember what happened after we left Comity?" "Comity?" He remembered that town, all right...the hysterical, desperate townspeople; the dead dog and cat; the havoc wreaked by two hormone- and star-crazed teenage girls...."What happened after we left?" Scully searched his face closely, started to speak several times, and finally said, "I can't believe you really don't remember." "Remember what? Tell me!" he pleaded, taking hold of her arm. She pulled away, gently but swiftly, and sighed. "Okay, but you better not be faking this, Mulder." She licked her lips. "Well, I was driving and I went through that intersection...." "Sure, I remember that." She had never told him to shut up quite so bluntly before, and he'd been so surprised he'd actually complied. To be honest, she was in such a bad mood he was afraid to say anything at all, even to breathe too loudly. "Well, I was in this horrible mood, you know, I didn't know why, but suddenly when we were about fifteen minutes out, all the anger just left, and I realized I had been reacting to the attitudes of the people in Comity. I wasn't really that annoyed, I was just responding to the hysteria there. I guess the influence finally wore off, and I saw what had been going on. I hate having my emotions manipulated like that." She took a deep breath. "Then I started to feel a little shaky, from delayed reaction I guess, so I pulled over and stopped the car. And you asked why we were stopping-" A small smile formed on her lips. "You sounded scared, like you were afraid I'd bite your head off just for asking." "Go on." Mulder was fascinated. He couldn't figure out why he didn't remember any of this. It was as if Scully were describing a scene from a movie he had seen years ago and remembered only very vaguely. "Well, I told you what I thought was happening, and I apologized for the way I'd been behaving. And you said there was nothing going on between you and Detective White, nevermind what I thought I saw. I said I knew that, and it was stupid of me to be jealous. And you asked why would I be jealous?" She shook her head ruefully. "You can be awfully dense sometimes, Mulder." Her words began to come faster and faster, slurring together as if she just wanted to get them out of her mouth and dissociate herself from them. " But I guess the effects hadn't completely worn off, and I said why should I be jealous? We've only been partners almost four years now, and lots of women are partnered with incredibly good-looking men but they never get involved with them, and there's no reason to be jealous if their partners go out with other women." She stopped to catch her breath. Mulder was listening open-mouthed with surprise. "So I said that, and then...you, um, kissed me." "I what?" Mulder exclaimed in disbelief. He was still amazed at his apparent bout of amnesia. "You heard me, Mulder. You must have still been under the influence too, plus you had been drinking. That's probably why you don't remember now." "And then...are you telling me that we..." he stuttered, feeling like a teenager. Scully blushed and looked away. "I can't believe it," Mulder said truthfully. He had made love to Scully...in a rental car...and he didn't even remember it! Wasn't that just his luck? How many years had he been dreaming about doing that, and now he couldn't even remember having done it. Scully had noticed the calendar again, sitting in her lap, and her expression sobered. She bit her lip and studied the calendar, as if hoping the information would have changed since the last time she checked. It hadn't. She looked up, and Mulder was studying her intently. His expression was one of wonder, amazement....tenderness. After a long moment, he spoke. "If it's a girl, can we name her Samantha?" Scully stared at him for a moment, speechless, and then to his infinite horror she burst into tears. Feeling awkward and guilty, Mulder shifted closer and put his arms around Scully. Would he never learn to keep his mouth shut? She leaned into him, pressing her face against his chest, shaking slightly with her quiet sobs. He felt her tears wetting his shirt, and he could smell the subtle strawberry scent of her hair. Suddenly, like a dam breaking, it all came back. His memory flooded his senses and he could recall everything: the taste and feel of Scully in the dark warm car, the savage, delighted ecstasy with which he'd kissed her and touched her. Her recalled, too, that his training had taught him how smells can be very effective in triggering buried memories. But Mulder didn't have long to dwell on all this, because Scully gave a loud sniffle, sighed heavily, and pushed him away. Not looking at him, she reached for the side table and got a Kleenex. She wiped her nose and eyes, crumpled the tissue in her hand and stared at it. She was still looking at it when she spoke, her voice suffused with anger this time. "Oh, it's easy for you! You don't have to worry about all these changes in your body! 'Name it Samantha'? Are you out of your mind? What makes you think I even want to have your baby? I'M the one who would have to leave her job for months, maybe a year! I'M the one who would have to sacrifice her physical well-being for this child! I'M the one who'd be enduring all the pain of labor and childbirth! And even if I decide not to have it, I'M the one who has to deal with all the emotional trauma of abortion! It's not an easy decision for a woman to make!" Startled, Mulder responded in kind. "Is that the kind of man you think I am, Scully?" he asked, hurt and angry. "The kind who would get a woman pregnant and then go off and let her deal with it? All these weeks without saying anything about it...is that really the way you thought I would behave after making love to you? If I had had my wits about me, once it happened I would never have let you go. I wouldn't have strung you along for weeks pretending like nothing was different between us!" He paused for breath. Scully was staring at him, surprised and maybe a little apprehensive. "Dana, the woman who bears my child is like a goddess to me. I would pamper her to within an inch of her life. If there were a way, medical, spiritual or otherwise, for me to take some of the pain and discomfort on myself, I'd do it in a heartbeat. And if she decided to abort it? I'd hold her hand the whole way. I'd cry with her when the nights got black and the emotions got too heavy. I'd respect her forever for having the courage." "Mulder-" "But it's all different when it's you," he added. "What?" Scully's face, normally composed and unrevealing, was like a study in vulnerability. "It's different with you, because I already worship you like a goddess. I already respect the living hell out of you. I already love you so much it makes my head hurt. If you're having my baby...." He let the conclusion hang in the air, unspoken but clearly heard by both parties. "Oh, God." Scully was crying again. "I can't - but I just can't." She covered her face with both hands. "Why not?" he asked, modulating his voice to its gentlest register. He took her hand, pulling it away from her face, and carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I...I can't go through with it. It's just too complicated. I've wanted so much to have babies..." She trailed off on another soft sob. Mulder pulled her close again, and this time she wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him tightly, relaxing somewhat into his arms. "It's okay. We'll figure something out," Mulder promised. "Just swear you won't shut me out." "I won't." She lifted her head to look at him. "I do love you too, you know." "I know." He kissed her lips softly. "And you know, Dana...I think now and then you could maybe use my first name." She smiled, the first time he'd seen her really smile in weeks. "Okay. I do love you too, Spooky." He chuckled. "Touche!" He was studying her freckled nose lovingly, preparing to kiss her again, when suddenly it twitched. "What's wrong?" "Is there broccoli on that pizza?" she demanded. "You can smell the broccoli?" he asked, impressed. "I love broccoli!" She got up and went to retrieve the pizza from the table. Her face fell. "It's cold. We'll have to put it in the oven." She picked it up and headed for the kitchen. "Bring the report," she instructed over her shoulder. Mulder complied, shaking his head in bemusement as he gathered up their written notes from the desk and followed her into the kitchen. "Cravings already?" he quipped. Scully turned from the oven and looked seriously at him. "Let's just write the report, Mulder," she said with careful control. "We'll worry about the rest later." "Okay." But he put the papers down and moved over to her, putting his hands lightly on her waist and leaning down -- way down -- to kiss her. She responded, pressing upward to wrap her arms around his neck and kissing him back. When she finally pushed him away, both were flushed. "Do we have all the coroners' reports?" she asked hoarsely, clearing her throat as she turned to open the oven and remove the pizza. Mulder took a deep breath to clear his head and seated himself at the kitchen table. "I think so...." They ate and worked calmly for an hour or so, speaking no more than was necessary for the completion of the report. Finally they seemed to be done, and Scully excused herself to go to the bathroom. Mulder straightened their notes and then gathered up the dirty napkins and used paper towels. He was dumping them in the trash can when he heard a small noise, like a squeak or a sob, from the bathroom. He turned. "Scully?" Silence....then the toilet flushed and the door opened. Scully stood there, her small form vibrating with released tension, her face flushed. "I'm not pregnant." Then he saw the red stain on her fingers. She turned to the sink and washed it off. Mulder felt his shoulders sag with an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. Scully wiped her hands on a towel and turned to him, the vulnerable look back on her face. "Are you...are you upset?" she asked softly. He took her hand and kissed it. "Dana, I love you, and you just said you love me." Her own relief was palpable. "What I'm upset about is the pizza's gone. You must have eaten three-quarters of it yourself." She laughed happily. "We could order another." "Good idea!" He looked down at her, his teasing expression giving way to a concerned one. "Are *you* upset?" She sighed. "I don't know, maybe," she said softly. "But I guess it's for the better. The timing was all wrong." She looked up at him and forcibly shrugged off the sadness. "Wanna watch TV while we wait for the pizza?" "Well, we could sit on the sofa and turn on the TV," he said slyly. "And then maybe we can-" he started to say "try to make another baby," but stopped himself. "Sit and talk," he said instead. Her eyebrows lifted skeptically. "Talk about what, *Spooky*?" she asked half-teasingly. "What we would have done?" "How about what we will do?" He squeezed her shoulder. "Now that we've got this out in the open, I'm not giving up on it. I'll never let you wish you'd picked a different man." "Isn't that what Charlton Heston says at the end of 'Planet of the Apes'?" [end]