From: KTsBudgie@aol.com
Date: Sun, 11 Apr 1999 18:48:26 EDT
Subject: Submission: "Shades of the Truth Interlude: And Baby Makes Three"

Title: Shades of the Truth Interlude: And Baby Makes Three
Author: KTsBudgie and Starlet346
Email: KTsBudgie@aol.com or Starlet346@aol.com
Date Completed: April 8, 1999
Rating: PG-13, language
Archive: Gossamer, MTA, others ask please.
Summary: An interlude in the Shades of the Truth universe.  A marriage
and a baby.  Three days in the life of Moose and Squirrel's family.
Disclaimer: They are not ours, but damn, if they were . . . .
Authors Notes:  

KTsBudgie:  Ooh, ooh, me first!  This was fun to write!  The comic relief

of what happens on Mulder's birthday was the best part.  The reward of
finally bringing little Baby Mulder into the world was well worth the wait
on my part.  Thanks go out to Star for the inspiration and threats again. 
Thanks!  Also, thanks to everyone who responded on the first Book.  All
three of you ;-) Hope you like this one as much as the first part.

Starlet346:  I think my friend needs to switch to decaf . . . .  Anyway, I
went along for the ride on this one.  And, oh what a ride!  Thanks,
KTsBudgie, for making it a funny laugh, and thanks ahead to anyone who
sends us feedback ;-)


Shades of the Truth Interlude: And Baby Makes Three
by KTsBudgie and Starlet346


Residence of Charles Scully
Bowling Green, VA
October 11, 1998
2:48 pm

     "C'mon.  Where the hell are you?" Fox Mulder muttered under his
breath, flipping back the lacy blue curtain that adorned the window in the
living room.  He paced a few feet away, thought he heard a car door slam,
then raced back to the window to peer out of it again.  Upon discovering it
was just a neighbor returning home across the street, he cursed to himself
and paced away from the window once more.
     "Mulder, if you don't sit down this minute, I'm gonna super glue
your ass to the chair," Skinner threatened, sending his agent a glare that
clearly relayed that his threat was genuine.
     The younger man drew in a deep breath and rocked forward on his
toes a bit before letting out the breath in a great rush.  He seamed to
deflate in to himself, and sunk down on one of the chairs that had been set
up around the house.  "I can't help it, Sir.  Frohike has exactly-" he paused,
glancing at his watch.  His eyes bugged out and he bolted from his chair to
once again stand by the window.  In a rush, he said, "He has exactly eight
minutes now to get here with the rings, and I can't believe that this is
happening, how could I have been so dumb I should have just left them in
my coat pocket or given them to him at the rehearsal and I wanted this to
go per-"
     His nervous rambling was suddenly cut off by a large hand going
over his mouth.  Mulder stared wide eyed at Skinner, his heart still racing
nervously.  "Mulder," Skinner said slowly, using his free hand to rub the
bridge of his nose beneath his glasses.  "BREATHE!" he commanded in his
best AD voice.  He let his hand drop from the agent's mouth after he was
sure the man had taken a few deep breaths.  He stared at Mulder for
another minute, and observed him as his gaze bounced back and forth from
Skinner, the front window, and the entryway that led to the rear of the
house and the back yard.  "Mulder, look at me.  Look only at me," he said
carefully and sternly.

     Somehow, Mulder managed to snap his gaze back to his boss.  He
chewed on his lower lip, waiting for whatever it was that the older man had
to say.
     "He'll be here soon.  Don't worry.  Remember, it's an hour and a
half to your apartment from here; you called Frohike over two hours ago. 
He'll be here on time.  Your other friends already made it.  He probably just
hit some traffic.  Passing out from anxiety is not something you want to
have happen right now," Skinner reassured.
     Mulder nodded, and swallowed around the dryness in his mouth. 
"Yeah, yeah.  I know.  He'll be here," he murmured, scratching the back of
his head before travelling over to the window again.
     He didn't even hear Skinner's sigh of amusement.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

Windsor Avenue
Bowling Green, VA
2:56 pm

     "Dammit!  Red light!  NOW!" Melvin Frohike yelled to no one but
himself.  For added emphasis, he laid on the horn of his twenty year old
Volkswagen Bus.  
     The light of opportunity and fortune shined upon him just then, and
the red disappeared and switched immediately to green.  He gunned the
engine and sped through the intersection.
     I'll be on time, I'll be on time, I'll be on time, he thought desperately
to himself as he careened around a corner, spotting the entrance gate to
Cyprus Mills Communities ahead of him and to the left.
     It had been a rather hectic two and a half hours for Frohike.  He
had received a frantic call from Mulder while he was getting ready to leave
with the other Gunman, telling him he had to go over to Mulder's
apartment ASAP, and get the rings.
     Everything went fine until the moment he stepped out of his friend's
apartment, the velvet box nestled securely in the left pocket of his suit coat. 
The elevator got stuck.  Then, the Bus wouldn't start.  He had to get a
jump from a neighbor when they came out.
     To say that traffic had been a bitch would have been an
understatement.  Every conceivable snarl of transportation that could
happen, did.  By the time that he arrived in front of the Scully's house, he
had a stress headache the size of Texas.
     He didn't even have time to get completely out of the vehicle before
Mulder was there beside him, yanking open the driver's side door.  "The
rings?  You do have the rings, don't you?!" he asked desperately, watching
as his shorter friend climbed warily from the seat.
     "Drink.  I need a good stiff drink," Frohike mumbled, showing
Mulder the ring box before making his way to the front door.
     Mulder trailed after his friend, a whole slew of questions parading
their way through his brain.  He felt extremely relieved now that Frohike
was there with the rings.  And just in time, too, he noted, glancing at his
watch.  It was three o'clock exactly.  He'd get the story about what had
frazzled his friend so much after the ceremony.  Right now, he had to go
get married.
     Mulder smiled for the first time in nearly three hours.

                   * * * * * * * * * *


     Dana Scully held back the curtains in her room, staring anxiously at
the driveway.  She, too, was wondering what was taking Frohike so long
to get here.  Tara, her sister in law, had been the one to inform her that her
soon to be husband was "damn near having an apoplectic fit", to quote her
words, upon discovering the rings were still sitting comfortably back in his
Alexandria, Virginia, apartment.
     "Shouldn't he be here by now?" Scully wondered, turning around to
stare at her sister in law.
     The other woman gave here a patient expression before walking
over to her, pinning a simple, blue and white hummingbird pin on the front
of the bride's dress.  "Don't worry.  He probably hit traffic."  The older
woman peeked out the window.  "Look.  There his is now.  And Mulder's
already out there, probably asking him where he's been."
     Dana peeked out the window also, and let out a relieved breath. 
"Oh, thank God.  Frohike looks a little-"
     "Stressed?" Tara finished, pulling Dana over to the full length
mirror.  She fluffed the bride's short, slightly curly hair, trying to get it to
do what she wanted it to do.
     Dana nodded in agreement, adjusting her dress a little.  It was
rather simple, just egg shell white, with lace around the sleeve edges and a
scooped neck line.  Pearl buttons adorned the back, and the skirt of the
dress ended just above her ankles.  "Yeah, he did."  She glanced at the pin
that was just above her heart, and then smiled at Tara's reflection in the
mirror.  "What does this fall under?  Old, new, borrowed, or blue?"
     A giggle slipped by Tara, and she reached for the veil.  Placing it
atop Dana's head, she answered, "It can be everything but new, I guess. 
That pin used to belong to my grandmother.  It matches your dress more
than mine."
     Dana simply smiled, her gratitude for such thoughtfulness expressed
in her vivid blue eyes.  "It's lovely, Tara.  I really appreciate the gesture,"
she murmured quietly, watching as the other woman finished adjusting the
veil.
     When done, Tara reached out and playfully patted her sister in law's
stomach.  "And that baby of yours has got that new part covered," she
remarked, a twinkle in her brown eyes.
     Dana groaned, but a small smile turned up the corner of her lips.  "I
feel so awkward.  I feel like I should be floating in a pool, swimming with
Flipper."
     "Honey, it's not that bad.  You have, what?  A week left?  You're in
the home stretch.  Enjoy the sleep while you can get it," she advised.
     Both women turned around at the quiet knock on the door. 
Charles Scully poked his head in, a big smile on his face.  "C'mon, Big Sis,
time to get you married off," he kidded, holding out his hand.
     "Watch it, Squirt.  I can still kick your ass if I have to," Dana
kidded, going over to take her younger brother's hand.
     "I know.  It's time, that's all."  He let Tara go before them, and he
walked slowly down the steps to the lower level.  Before stepping off the
landing, he paused and turned to face her.  "You look beautiful, Sis.  I hope
you know that."
     "Thank, Charlie," Dana murmured, giving him a smile.
     "He's a good man for you, Dana.  Don't let anyone ever try to
convince you otherwise," Charlie continued, his voice and expression
serious.
     Dana nodded.  She knew that already, too.  She also knew that
there would never be anyone that would ever convince her that Fox Mulder
was not good enough for her.  Left unspoken was that the person Charlie
had been talking about was their older brother, Bill.
     Watching as Tara left out the back door to join the rest of the
guests and wedding participants, Dana drew a deep breath.  "Walk me
down the aisle, Charlie.  I'm ready."
     "As you wish, my dear," he said quietly, giving her arm a loving
squeeze before leading her to the back door.

                   * * * * * * * * * * 

     Mulder squinted through the sun at Father McHue, watching as the
priest flipped through his ceremony book.  It hadn't been easy to secure a
priest for a Sunday wedding on such short notice, but because Father
McHue had been a Scully family friend for some years now, he had
delightfully accepted the request.
     "Nervous, Son?"
     Mulder snapped his attention over to the priest, who had moved to
stand beside him.  "Well, nothing a good shot of scotch wouldn't cure," he
answered, a smile turning up his mouth.
     Father McHue patted the younger man's arm in reassurance.  "We
don't need you drunk now.  You might say something that will get you in
trouble."  The priest gave him a conspiratorial wink before flipping through
his ceremony book again.
     I always say something that gets me in trouble, he thought
ironically, searching the yard for his best man.
     The guest list had been small; Mulder and Scully both had few
family left, and the friends were not in abundance, either.  Mulder's sister
and her husband, Neil, along with their two children, Lindsey and Joey, had
come down from Williamsport the day before.  Tara Scully and her son,
Matthew, had flown in from San Diego earlier in the week to help Karen
and Dana with the arrangements; Bill had been unable to get leave, but
would instead be arriving the next day.  The Lone Gunmen and Skinner, of
course, had been invited, along with a few of Scully's friends.  Aliya
Winters, a co-worker from Quantico, was seated and having a conversation
with Byers, and two of Scully's college roommates, Christina Wilson and
Ilianna Griffen, were mingling among the guests, as well as Mulder's
partner, Chris Adams.
     Finally, Mulder spied Skinner walking his way, a red rose bud
clasped between his fingers.  Stopping next to his agent, he handed over
the flower.  "In your distracted state over the rings, you forgot to put this
in your lapel," he explained, putting on a pair of sunglasses.
     Mulder took the offered flower and threaded it through his jacket
collar.  "Thank you, Sir."
     Glancing over the top of his sunglasses, Skinner remarked, "I don't
think it's customary for the groom to call his best man 'Sir'.  It's Walter."
     "Sorry.  Right.  Walter," he repeated, nodding his head in
confirmation.  Blinking a few times, he looked away from the older man,
letting his gaze wander over to the canopied table of food.  "I wanted to
thank you again, Sir- uh, Walter.  Thanks for standing up for me here, for
being my best man.  I really appreciate it."
     "Mulder, since the day you told me about this, I had a feeling that
you'd be asking me.  I don't know what justified it, but I just had a feeling."
     "I would have asked one of the gunmen, but then the other two
would have had their feelings hurt.  I've never met my brother in law until

today, Charlie is giving Dana away, and Bill hates me; I'm really not close
to anyone else at the Bureau besides you and Dana.  It was the logical
choice for me to make," Mulder explained, fanning his jacket against his
body.
     "I'm happy that you liked me enough to even ask in the first place,"
Skinner said, chuckling.  He adjusted his sunglasses before running a hand
over his balding head.  "Boy, you can sure pick 'em, can't you?"
     "Who would have thought it would be seventy degrees in the
middle of October?" Mulder mused, scanning the crowd once more.  Tara
had just come out and was joining the other bridesmaids.  She won't come,
he thought, a dejected feeling sliding along his body.
     Before this latest thought could bring down his good mood too
much, his brother in law, Neil, began the wedding march on a portable
keyboard as the back door opened.
     Mulder caught a glimpse of Dana and Charlie standing back,
waiting for Lindsey and Matthew to come out first.  Lindsey did a good job
of spreading the flower petals around, and Matthew followed after her, the
ring pillow held tightly in his arms.
     Dana and Charlie followed not long after, and his eyes never left
her face.  Beautiful was the only word that ran through his mind as he
watched her walk towards him.
     Once they made it to where Mulder and the priest were standing,
Charlie took Dana's hand, grabbed Mulder's, and with the warning of "You
take care of her," he gave her away before taking his seat in the second
row.
     "Yes, Mulder.  You take care of me," she whispered to him
playfully, a twinkle in her blue eyes.
     "It'll be more like you'll be taking care of *me*," he responded,
giving her hand a squeeze before they both turned their attention to Father
McHue.
     "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . . ."

                   * * * * * * * * * *

4:45 pm 

     The wedding went off without any other major problems occurring. 
The weather was wonderful, the guests respectful, and both bride and
groom remembered their vows, despite nerves.
     Now, married for nearly a half an hour, Mulder and Scully were
going through the ritual of wedding photos.  "I never knew how hard it
was to hold a smile for these pictures," Mulder remarked, shifting his
position as the photographer wanted him to turn his shoulder more towards
Skinner, who was on his right.
     "Just think of the fond memories we'll have," Scully commented,
giving his hand a squeeze.  "We can tell our children that on our wedding
day, their father nearly had a panic attack because he forgot the rings."
     "Thanks, Dana.  You really know how to make a guy feel good," he
grumbled, but soon found a genuine smile taking over his face.
     Leaning in to whisper into his ear, Skinner said, "I'll keep your
secret as long as your reports get in on time." The older man laughed at the
indignant expression on his agent's face, and moments later laughed harder
because the photographer had chosen that moment to snap the picture.

     Glancing at the wedding party, the photographer smiled patiently. 
"I think we should take that one again.  I believe the groom would like to
have a smile on his face in all of the pictures," he said in amusement,
resetting the camera.
     Mulder flushed a little at the jibe, but knew it was all in good
humor.  Yes, I'll make sure my reports get in with bright red bows on them,
he mused, a huge grin forming.  That way, he won't miss them.
     Not long after the final pictures were shot, Mulder found himself
sipping a glass of champagne, idly wandering the back yard.  Scully was
over by the food, talking with her college friends, so he was left to fend for
himself for the meantime.
     "Hey there, stranger.  Long time no see."

     Mulder turned to the voice, and his eyes lit up at the sight of his
sister.  "Hi, Sam.  I'm really happy that you came down for this," he said,
drawing his sister into a tight embrace.
     Samantha hugged him back.  "I'm glad that I was able to come
down.  I knew how important it would be to you for me to be here.  Things
have settled down at home, for now, and I thought it would be safe enough
to leave.  Besides, I wouldn't want to miss my brother's wedding for
anything!" she finished, clinking her champagne glass against his.
     Nodding, Mulder took another sip of the bubbly liquid.  He found
his eyes wandering again over the crowd, and the disappointed feeling that
had sprung up before now returned.
     Noticing the change in her brother's mood, Samantha reached out
and gently patted his arm, gaining his attention.  "What's wrong?  Today's a
happy day for you.  Don't look so sad," she said, trying to cheer him up.
     Bringing his eyes down to meet hers, he answered, "I was hoping
Mom would be here, but I guess it was too much to ask of her to come to
her own son's wedding."  His words were tinged with the bitterness that
suddenly welled up inside of him.
     "Why wouldn't she come?" she inquired, a mildly confused
expression on her face.
     Mulder snorted at her question, downing the last little bit of
champagne from his glass.  "I don't know, Sam.  I think it has something to
do with the fact that I lost her baby girl not once, but twice.  Then, I
accused her of having an affair with old Smokey.  I never told her about
meeting the woman that was supposed to be you at that diner, and I realize
now that I should have told her about finding you in Williamsport.  She
would have absolutely no reason to come down and partake in the wedding
of her disappointment of a son."  His words ended quietly, but the hurt and
disgust was still clearly heard among them.
     "Fox, that gives her no right to just abandon you.  I don't really
remember what happened after I left, but, you didn't lose me.  Why would
they blame you?"
     Mulder stared at her for a moment, his eyes haunted.  All of the
torment that he had dealt with over the past twenty five years paraded
through their hazel depths before he resolutely shoved them back into their
little boxes and locked them away.  Mustering a tiny smile, he shook his
head.  "I- I'm not ready to talk about this with you yet, Sam.  Let's just say
that I was pretty much lost to them the same time you were taken, and
leave it at that, okay?  I don't need to get into a blue funk on my wedding
day.  If she doesn't want to come, she doesn't come; simple as that.  It
doesn't matter that much, anyway."
     Samantha saw completely around his attempt at dismissing the
subject, but she knew when to leave things be, and she decided that now
was not the best time to pursue this.  She would try her best to talk to him
about this at a later date, though.  Obviously, he had some issues with their
mother, issues that she was all too familiar with.  Being in the line of work
that she was, Fox hadn't been the only family member that she had kept
tabs on after she had located everyone.
     Quickly, she snapped out of her daze and focused on her brother. 
Mulder was staring to his right, his eyes watching his wife as she was
talking with her friends.  She laughed at something they said, and Samantha
watched as a smile of his own curled on his lips, with a tender look settling
in his eyes.  Taking his empty champagne flute, she finally gained his
attention again.  "Go give that beautiful wife of yours a kiss," she
remarked, playfully pushing him in the right direction.
     Mulder winked back at her.  "I will, Sam.  Boy, will I ever," he
answered, smiling in return before going to claim his wife.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

Dana Scully's Apartment
Annapolis, MD
9:57 pm

     "I do hope that you are not planning on carrying me over the
threshold," Scully remarked while Mulder unlocked the door.  He quickly
dropped one of the bags containing wedding presents just inside the
entryway before going to stand beside her again.
     With a very wide grin expressed on his face, he nodded.  "Sure do,
Scully.  It's tradition after all.  It was believed," he began, carefully
scooping her up in his arms, one braced under her knees and the other
firmly at her back, "that if the bride tripped when walking over the
threshold, that it would bring bad luck to the marriage.  So, the groom
carried her across it to keep that from happening.  No one ever figured out
if bad luck was to befall the newly married couple if the groom were to
stumble carrying her," he finished, setting her firmly back on to her feet. 
He straightened with a grimace.  "I think I pulled something."
     Scully chuckled and quirked an eyebrow at him.  "Serves you right. 
If I wasn't about to give birth, I would have been lighter."
     Shooting her a tired look, he shut the front door, one hand rubbing
his left side.  "Well, I've always wanted to do that, and it just wouldn't be
the same after tonight," he explained.
     "I know it wouldn't.  I just didn't want you to hurt yourself," she
commented, concern out weighing the giggles she felt inside.
     "Too late," he answered, trailing her into the living room.  He got
himself comfortable on the sofa, then pulled her down so she was sitting in
the v of his legs.  Wrapping his arms around her, he splayed his hands
across her belly.  "I think just sitting here with you can heal that pulled
muscle."
     "I think it's just the sitting part.  Where's it hurt?" she questioned,
sliding one hand back to rub his left side.
     As her fingers worked their magic on him, he murmured into her
shoulder, "Right about there.  Who taught you how to massage?"
     A devilish little grin took over her face and she turned her head so
she could see his eyes.  "I learned a lot of things in medical school,
Mulder," she answered evasively, continuing to gently kneed the pulled
muscle.
     "Mmm-hmm," he answered, propping his chin on her shoulder. 
"Do you know that we've been married for a little over six hours?"
     Nodding, she let her hands drift down to rest on the tops of his
thighs.  "Yep.  And it couldn't have been a more happier six hours.  I'm
glad that your sister was able to come."
     "I am, too.  No surprise that my mother stayed away.  She told me
that she'd come," he said, tracing the rose pattern of the dress she had
changed into after the ceremony.  The disappointment was clearly evident
in his voice.
     Scully twisted as much as she could in his arms, looking directly
into his face.  "I'm sorry that your mother didn't show up today.  I know
how much it meant to you for her to be there."
     He gave a derisive little snort, turning her back around to their
original position.  "Where my feelings are concerned, Scully, I doubt that
she cares.  She probably went out to play cards with her friends or
something.  I never really ranked much in her life after Sam was gone."
     She squeezed his hands in hers, bringing one up to kiss the
knuckles.  "You underestimate your abilities, Fox Mulder.  Don't beat
yourself up over this.  Obviously, there's something wrong with her if she
doesn't want to be involved in your life.  You're the most lovable person
that I know, and I am so glad that you are here.  Today was wonderful,
with or without her."
     "Now that, I agree with," he answered, pressing his cheek to hers. 
A surprised laugh escaped his control when he felt the baby move under his
hands.  "We need to pick out a name, you know."
     She nodded, covering his hands with hers.  "I already have one
picked out."
     "Just one?  I thought you didn't know what it was going to be?" he
questioned.  He rubbed his thumb back and forth, waiting for her to
respond.
     After a few moments of pensive thought, Scully finally spoke.  "I
had a dream a while back; my mother was in it.  She said that she had been
watching over me since her death.  She also told me to take care of you
and her grandson, because they were going to need me soon. I'm not much
of a person to believe in the prophetic nature of dreams, but I feel inclined
to believe what my mother said.   I just have a feeling that this baby is a
little boy, so I only have a boy's name picked out.  If it's a girl, well, I've
always been partial to Caitlynn."
     Mulder smiled at her words.  Trust Maggie to continue watching
over her children from a cloud up in Heaven.  The thought warmed him,
just knowing that she would always be watching out for her family, even if
she wasn't there on Earth to share their lives.  "So, what name have you
thought up for our child?"
     "I can't tell you right now.  I'm sorry," she said regretfully, turning
to stare into his eyes. "This is a family tradition, I guess.  Usually, both
parents think up a name for the child, and then when its born, they tell each
other.  Mom's name usually wins."
     "Yeah, probably because the father feels like such a heel for putting
his wife through such agony," he replied, a silly little grin on his face.  The
smile soon turned wistful, and his arms tightened around her.  "So, does
that mean that I get to choose a name, too?"
     She nodded.  "Sure do.  I probably should have told you about this
a while ago," she said regretfully.
     A serene expression turned his eyes a deep gold, and he stared over
to where he had set up the bassinet the week before.  "I've got it covered,
Scully.  I've been thinking of names for a few months now."  He abruptly
turned his head back to hers, and softly brushed her lips. "I love you, Dana
Scully.  Just felt like saying that."
     "Mulder."
     "Yes?"
     She shook her head in bemusement.  "No.  Not you, me.  Legally,
I'm Dana Mulder. And I love you, too, Mulder."
     He huffed out a breath, bringing her left hand up so he could press
a kiss to her wedding band and finger.  "I think," he said, linking their left
hands, "that it would be appropriate for you to call me Fox.  It would also
be a whole lot less confusing, beings as you already pointed out that we are
both named 'Mulder'."
     Settling her head back against his shoulder, she breathed in deeply,
smelling his aftershave and her own flowery perfume.  "We'll have to break
our habits of calling each other by our last names, then.  Try out 'Dana'
every now and then."
     "I will."  He yawned into her shoulder, suddenly feeling the stress
and excitement of the days activities catching up with him.  "How about we
call it a night and retire to our wedding bed, my dear Dana?"
     "Why certainly, my dear Fox.  But first," she paused, staring
pointedly at him, "you must give me a boost.  I can't get up from this low
sofa on my own."
     Scully simply swatted his arm good naturedly when he cracked up
in laughter.  Yeah, she thought, feeling him snicker against her shoulder, I
will definitely be raising two little boys.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

Next Morning, 9:30 am
Pristine Publications, Inc.
Washington, DC

     Bill Scully, Jr. shifted uncomfortably on the cold leather seat
cushion.  He hated waiting.  He hated that he didn't really know what it
was that he was waiting for.  He just plain hated the whole situation that he
found himself in.
     By the time that he had crossed and uncrossed his legs at least a
dozen times, a plain wooden door opened, and a blonde haired woman
stepped out.  "He'll see you now," she said, inclining her head into the
expanse of hallway behind her.
     It's about time, he thought morosely, hauling himself up from the
leather sofa.  He walked slowly down the hall, following the blonde as she
weaved around the corners.  Five minutes of walking, and he found himself
at the threshold of a massive conference room.  Counting himself, Bill
noted that there was only one other person in the room.
     "Thank you for showing up on such, shall I say, short notice," the
other man spoke, staring across the long conference table at the Navy
Lieutenant.
     "I'll have you know that I don't appreciate this.  I had to miss my
sister's wedding yesterday when I got your message last week.  I may not
like the guy that she's marrying, but she's still my sister," Bill retorted,
crossing his arms over his chest.
     "So good of you to mention the pair.  They are the reason that I
called you here.  I have a job for you to do."  
     Bill raised an eyebrow.  "And if I refuse?"
     The older man smiled benignly before lighting a cigarette.  "You
know the consequences.  How much do you value your family, Mr.
Scully?"
     Paling, Bill had no other choice.  Squaring his shoulders, he asked,
"What is it you want covered up this time?"  Resignation of his situation
was clearly intoned in his voice.
     Standing for the first time, the other man walked over to where Bill
was waiting just inside of the spacious room.  "There is no cover up, this
time at least.  Not the cover up that you are thinking about.  Your sister is
pregnant, correct?"
     Through gritted teeth, Bill answered.  "Unfortunately, yes.  I could
kill the bastard for it."
     "She will be giving birth soon; I believe the timetable was set for
tomorrow.  The child is crucial for our projects."
     Bill's eyes widened in shock when the realization of his words sunk
in.  "Are you saying that you want me to kidnap their baby for you to
experiment on?!  That's sick!" he exclaimed, shaking his head the entire
time.  "No.  I won't do it.  I won't do that to my sister.  Even though I hate
the man she married, that baby is part Scully, and I refuse to do that to my
own blood.  Find yourself another lackey."
     The other man stood by calmly the entire time.  When Bill had
finished his ranting, he drew another breath through the cigarette, before
letting its ashes fall to the ground.  "You have no other choice.  Unless, of
course, you do not really care for your wife and son as much as you have
led us to believe."
     The blood rushed to the younger man's face and almost as quickly
left it, also.  He swallowed.  He didn't want to do this job; he had no idea
how he would be able to face his sister again if he did do it.  But, the man
before him was right.  He had no choice.  They had virtually owned him for
the past four years, not long after Dana had been returned to them.  Hating
himself for how he had let his life turn out, he gave the only answer that
was left for him to give.  "Where do you want me to take the baby?"

                   * * * * * * * * * *

October 13th
Dana Scully's Apartment

7:12 am

     Dana Scully yawned, feeling the sun that was coming through the
cracks in the Venetian blinds hit her face.  Rubbing her eyes and slowly
opening them, she reached across the bed, and her hand landed gently in
the middle of Mulder's back.  She caught the time out of the corner a blurry
eye before shaking his shoulder.  "Mulder?  Fox, wake up," she murmured.
     "Sleepin'.  Lemme be," he mumbled, his voice scratchy with sleep. 
He then burrowed his face more firmly into his pillow.
     When her nudging became more insistent, he pulled the covers
firmly around him and folded one arm over his head.
     Scully pursed her lips at her husband.  She had never really thought
of him as the type that would be difficult to wake up in the mornings. 
Because he usually arrived at the office at ungodly hours, she always
assumed that he was an early riser.  Apparently, she was wrong.
     Moments after that last thought paraded through her mind, she
playfully swatted his backside.  That got his attention, she mused, watching
as his head shot up from his pillow, eyes wide open in sleepy surprise.  "
'wake.  I'm awake," he mumbled, blinking rapidly.  He turned his head over
to her.  Promptly scowling at her giggles, he demanded, "What is so funny,
Dana Katherine?"
     Scully just shook her head.  There was no way that she could
describe the surprised look that had taken over his face when she had
swatted him.  It was one of those Kodak moments, she was sure.  Getting
herself under control, she allowed the smile to remain as she leaned her
head over to his, gently brushing his lips with hers.  "Happy Birthday, Fox. 
Congratulations on reaching the age of thirty seven."
     "Thanks.  I think."  Mulder scrubbed at his face with one hand
before flipping onto his back.  When his eyes alighted upon the bedside
clock, he shot out of the bed so fast, he ended up taking the sheets and
blankets with him.  "Oh my GOD!  I am going to be *so* late!" he
exclaimed, desperately trying to untangle himself from the covers.
     Scully reached over and managed to snag an end of the sheet. 
Yanking, she helped him dislodge his body from the worst of the mess he
had made of their bed.  "I thought you had mentioned something about an
early meeting," she commented, leveraging herself out of the bed.  She
grimaced at feeling a crink in her back, then practically jumped out of the
way as he dashed around the room, grabbing the clothes that he would
need.
     "Yeah, I do.  There's this case that Skinner wants me to help with. 
Uh, new profiler.  He wants me to, I think he said, 'Take him under your
wing and show him how to do it right'," Mulder explained, standing still
just long enough to pull out the exact words that Skinner had spoken to
him before continuing to root through the sock drawer in search of a
matching pair.
     "He wants you to train a profiler for Violent Crimes?" Scully asked

in a disbelieving voice, batting his hands aside.  Quickly, she pulled out a
matching pair and tossed them onto the bed with the other clothing that he
had pulled out.
     Mulder shrugged, stripping as he made his way to the bathroom. 
"That's what he said, Dana.  I don't know why this guy would be given a
case to profile if he didn't have any experience.  Maybe Skinner thinks it's
going to be too tough of a case for the new guy to handle."  He wrenched
the knob of the shower over to hot before stepping under the spray. 
Immediately grabbing the shampoo, he continued.  "When I did my first
profile, there was a senior agent there to help me if I got stuck.  I was too
self absorbed to ask for his help, though."
     "Sounds exactly like you, Mulder."  She reached out and grabbed
up his discarded boxers, dropping them into the bathroom's clothes
hamper.
     Poking his head around the shower curtain, he smirked at her. 
"Aren't you supposed to support me, instead of this wonderful criticism
that you just threw my way?" he questioned.
     "I was just stating the obvious," Scully explained with a smile,
stepping out of the room to grab some towels.
     Mulder simply shook his head, ducking back under the hot spray. 
He was just grasping the bar of soap, planing to suds up and rinse off the
shampoo and soap at the same time, when all of a sudden the water went
ice cold.  It hit him square between the shoulders, and the bar of Ivory
violently popped out of his hands.  With a scream that could put all of the
horror movie victims to shame, he jumped from the shower as quickly as he
could, gasping for his breath.
     "What happened?" Scully demanded, rushing back to the bathroom
when she heard his startled shriek.  She had to repress the laughter she felt
bubble up inside when she saw him standing just outside the tub on the bath
mat, wet and soapy, his chest heaving as he tried to get his breath back.
     "I think this is one of those days where I'm going to regret getting
out of bed," he panted, willing his lungs to get in one deep breath.  He
braced a hand on the wall and put the other one over his heart.  "Hot water
ran out.  Abruptly."  He put extra emphasis on the last word, making sure
that she got his point.
     Smiling weakly, she stepped over to him and reached into the stall,
testing the water.  Feeling the hot liquid hitting her palm, she patted his hip
in reassurance.   "It's safe now.  That happens sometimes.  I don't really
know why, but it doesn't last long; maybe a few seconds at the most.  Just
enough to wake you up in the morning."
     Drawing a shaky breath, he stepped back into the shower.  "Well,
I'm awake.  Trust me.  I think it just took five years off my life."
     "Just finish your shower."  Scully left him two towels sitting on the
sink before shutting the door after her.  Once out in the hallway, she
allowed herself a good chuckle before going to get breakfast.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

Fifteen Minutes Later

     "No, Sir.  I know.  I'm leaving now.  As soon as I get there, I'll
come right up," Mulder said into his cell phone, trying to shrug into his
jacket while talking.
     "Just get in here.  The first part of this meeting probably won't be
very important, anyway.  I expect to see you before nine, Agent Mulder. 
Do I make myself clear?"
     Mulder swallowed at the angry tone to the Assistant Director's
words.  "Yes, Sir.  Before nine.  I'll get there as fast as I can."  With that,
the line went dead.  Pocketing his phone, he grabbed his tie, slinging it
unfastened around his neck.
     "Are you going out today?" he asked, calling into the bathroom.
     After the flush of the toilet, Scully responded.  "Bill got in last
night.  He and Tara are coming up with your sister.  We're going out to
lunch.  Don't worry.  If anything happens, you'll get beeped," she reassured
him, coming out of the bathroom.
     "Ah!  Pager!" he exclaimed, dashing into the bedroom.  He came
back with it, letting it drop into his pants pocket after switching it on.  He
patted himself down, making sure he now had everything.  Wallet, badge,
gun, phone, keys, pager, he listed to himself, finding each item and
checking them off on the list.  Assured that he had everything that he
needed, he dropped a quick kiss on Scully's lips before practically running
to the door.  "Give everyone greetings from me.  Um, tell Sam if she wants
to swing by the Hoover on her way home this week, I can get them on the
tour for free."

     "I will.  You'd better leave before you get any later," she advised,
shaking her head at him.
     With a final smile at his wife, he blew her a kiss and shut the door
behind him, running down the stairs to the ground level because he was in
too much of a hurry to take the time to use the elevator.  What a birthday,
he mused, dashing out the front entrance to the apartment building. 
     A growl twenty feet away from him stopped Mulder dead in his
tracks.  Shit! he thought wildly, staring wide eyed at the menacing german
shepherd.  The dog barked twice and growled at him again, barring his
teeth.  "This is just what I need," he muttered darkly, edging his way to the
sidewalk and curb.  He shot his gaze briefly over to his car.  The Taurus
was sitting a mere fifty yards away.  All he had to do was turn--
     "Shit!" he yelled, turning on his heel and running as fast as he could
to the car the moment that the shepherd rushed him.  He managed to get
the electronic key device on his ring out, and unlocked the Taurus when he
was half way there.  Wrenching open the door, he dove in, just barely
managing to shut it before the dog caught him.  Thank God for small
favors, he thought, sitting upright in the seat.  The dog was still growling
and barking against his door.  If he hadn't unlocked it when he had, he most
likely would be headed to the emergency room for a tetanus and rabies
shot, not to mention stitches.
     With trembling hands, he turned the ignition on.  The sound of the
engine roaring to life startled the dog, and with a yelp it dashed back across
the street, setting up position to ambush the next poor soul that exited the
building.
     It was beginning to look like one of those days for Fox Mulder.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

Ten Blocks From The Hoover
Half an Hour Later

     Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose.  He was beginning to regret
ever having woken up this morning.
     "Agent Mulder, I would advise next time to take it a little more
slowly.  I understand that the FBI is an exciting job, but no job is exciting
enough to warrant doing sixty in a thirty five zone," the officer said,
passing over his license, registration and ticket.
     Snatching the items from the outstretched hand, Mulder bit back
the retort at the officer's sarcastic words.  All he needed today was to get
hauled down to central booking for arguing with the DCPD.  "I'll keep that
in mind.  May I go now?" he asked shortly, giving the officer a pointed
glare.
     A self satisfied smile curled the officer's lips.  "Of course.  Have a
nice day."  
     Barely containing the snarl of anger and annoyance, Mulder pulled
back out into traffic when he next saw an opening.  Damn luck.  What god
did I piss off this time? he thought, taking the last blocks to the Hoover
Building with a more reasonable speed.
     Pulling the Taurus into the parking garage underneath the building,
he went hunting for his usual spot.  He cursed loudly when he saw a little
blue Neon had taken his space.  Forced to park a good ways from the door,
he wondered what he had done to have made this day start off so
horrendously.
     Jabbing the elevator button angrily, he tapped his foot, waiting for
the elevator to come.  When it finally arrived, he jumped in, hit the button
for the fourth floor, and started to fix his tie.
     His shoulders slumped when the car stopped, the doors opening to
reveal that the car had stopped halfway on the fourth floor.  He was at eye
level with everyone's knees.  "I need a large cup of coffee," he complained,
greatfully taking the hand that reached in to help him climb from the
elevator.  He just managed to get both legs out before the doors closed
with a ding.
     "I'd say 'Good Morning', Agent Mulder, but it doesn't look like it's
been very good," Kim commented, brushing some dust off of his suit
jacket.
     Mulder whimpered slightly, running a hand over his face.  He shot a
glance over at Skinner's secretary before speaking.  "This is one of those
days where I wish that there was a giant rewind button above my head that
I could push repeatedly.  No, I take that back.  A delete button is what I
need.  I don't want to relive what this morning has been like for me.  Is
there any coffee?"
     Kim nodded.  "There's a nice big pot brewing in the break room. 
C'mon.  I'll fix it for you before you set forth for the Lion's Den.  He sent
me to find you, anyway," she added, leading the way to the fourth floor
break room around the corner.
     Inhaling the wonderful aroma of Folger's Crystals, his body
immediately gravitated toward the counter.  Before Kim had a chance to fix
it for him like she had offered, he grabbed a little styrofoam cup, dropped a
teaspoon of cream and sugar into the bottom, and poured.  "I don't think
I've been more desperate for a cup of coffee in my life," he said, taking a
huge sip.
     He nearly spit it back into the cup as he felt the dark liquid burning
his tongue and the roof of his mouth.  Swallowing with a groan, he went
over to the water fountain in the corner and drank for a good two minutes,
letting the cold water soothe his aching mouth.
     Mulder stayed bent over the fountain for another minute or so, his
forehead resting against the cool metal top.  A hand on his back caused him
to straighten.  Teary eyed from desperation and bewilderment, he asked,
"Did I do something wrong?  Is this my punishment?  Do you know anyone
that practices black magic?  Does Skinner know anyone?  I know I haven't
always been the best of the agents, but I don't deserve this."  He was
practically whimpering when He finished speaking.
     Kim chuckled lightly at his words before relieving him of his
forgotten coffee cup.  "Agent Mulder, I think you're just experiencing what
is typically referred to as a Bad Day.  I would advise you to go to that
meeting that the AD is waiting for you to show up to, and then go home. 
Straight home, no stopping at any points in between.  If I guess right, I'd
have to say that the bad stuff didn't just start happening when you got here
to work."
     A nod of agreement was his answer.  "I think I'll take it from the
meeting and see what happens.  I've got paperwork, though, that I could
do.  How much trouble could that be?"
     Staring at him gravely, she answered, "With the way that your day
has been going, I wouldn't be surprised if something bad happened."
     "Thanks for the vote of confidence."  He gave a weak smile before
heading toward Skinner's office, grimacing occasionally at the soreness on
his tongue and throat.  Damn coffee, he thought, pulling the door open to
the Assistant Director's office.
     The agents inside all turned to stare at him when he entered. 
Letting the door close a little louder than necessary actually made him feel
marginally better, and he dropped his body down into the only other empty
seat at the long conference table.
     "Glad that you could join us, Agent Mulder.  I see married life is
agreeing with you?" the Agent In Charge asked, barely containing his
smirk.
     Mulder let out a defeated breath and let his head loudly hit the table
top.  God, when will this day end?! he screamed silently.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

2:48 pm
The Basement

     "Goddamn piece of shit!" Mulder exclaimed, slapping the side of his
computer terminal.  When the screen continued to flicker, he slapped it
again, this time cursing as his palm began to sting.
     "Hey, Mulder!  Stop abusing the government's property," his
partner, Agent Chris Adams, replied, getting up from her desk.  She
walked over to him and stood behind his chair.  "Adjust the contrast knob
and it'll stop going in and out like that."
     He shut his eyes briefly and did a calming breathing exercise. 
"Contrast knob.  Okay.  I can handle this," he muttered, reaching out to
twist the little black knob that she spoke of.  
     It broke off in his hand.
     "That's it!  I'm going to the damned bathroom and I'm staying there
until one of two things happens; either the day ends, or I pass out from
stress!"  He shot out of his chair and angrily strode from the office.  
     A moment later he came back, slapped the knob back onto his desk
top, then strode off for the bathroom again.
     Adams just shook her head at him before going about to fix the
computer on his desk.

                   * * * * * * * * * *
     
     Because the basement had no bathroom to call its own, Mulder had
to ride up in the elevator to the second floor and use the bathroom that was
there.  Kicking the door open didn't have the same desired affects that
slamming Skinner's door had earlier in the day.  The only thing this action
caused was nearly scaring a poor young agent to death.
     "Sorry," Mulder muttered, brushing past his co-worker to enter the
bathroom.
     He leaned his hands on one of the sinks, bowing his head to try and
contain some of the anger that he still felt.  A toilet flushed, and soon he
wasn't alone at the sinks.
     "Still having that bad day Kim was warning me about?"
     Mulder didn't even lift his head to acknowledge the Assistant
Director's presence.  "The worst, Sir.  I'm beginning to think that Murphy's
Law has been re-written as Mulder's Law," he said, his voice flat and
dispassionate.
     "Ah, anything that can go wrong, will.  I was wondering when this
day would come.  Just be careful around sharp objects.  I wouldn't want to
be the one to explain an injury to your wife," Skinner commented before
departing the rest room.
     Mulder snorted at the advice given to him by his boss.  Right now,
he'd welcome any injury that would get him out of the building.  Hell, he'd
welcome any injury that would render him unconscious for the remainder
of the day.
     As he made his way over to the bank of urinals along the side wall,
he mentally checked off all that had gone wrong that day.  The alarm didn't
work, so he overslept.  The water in the shower went on the fritz, and then
he almost left without his pager.  A german shepherd tried to take a bite
out of his ass, and he received a speeding ticket from one of DC's finest
while going to work.  His usual spot was taken, and he had to climb out of
the elevator when it didn't come to an even stop.  He burned his tongue on
a cup of coffee, then had been forced to sit through a meeting, discussing a
case, all the while doing his best to deflect pot shots being sent his way
about his recent marriage.  And now, his computer wasn't working, either.
     "What else, God?  What else to you have in store for me?" he said,
beseeching the heavens before zipping his pants back up.  He flushed the
urinal and turned, intent on walking back to the sinks to wash his hands and
return to his Hell hole of an office.
     Until, of course, his jacket caught on the little metal hook that held
the urinal cake, ripping his inside pocket and allowing his badge folder to
fall to the bottom of the ceramic bowl.
     It was a good five minutes before Mulder even attempted to move. 
Two agents had come and gone in that time frame, and he glared angrily at
them whenever it looked like they were going to say something or try to
help him.  
     Finally, when he trusted himself to move, he slowly and deliberately
unhooked his jacket from the metal clip, snatched up his identification, and
marched over to the sinks.  Slapping the leather folder into the porcelain
basin, he wrenched on the knob, washing his hands and the little wallet at

the same time.
     Two paper towels later and he found himself visiting Kim on the
fourth floor.
     Noticing the look on his face, Kim stifled the giggle she felt.  "Still
having that bad day?"
     He said nothing, but instead simply nodded once, a slow movement
of his head once down and once up, before evening out.
     He needs to be put out of his misery, she thought bemusedly.  "I've
got some things that might help.  Let me find them," she replied, beginning
to root through her desk drawers.  Finding what she was looking for, she
pulled out the two items.  Passing each over to him, she explained.  "That's
a stress head.  Feel free to squeeze it as hard as you need to.  The other
one is a baby Pound Purry that my daughter gave me last year.  If
something goes wrong again, take a look at that.  It's cute enough to make
you smile every time."  At Mulder's disbelieving scowl, she added, "It
makes him grin."  She inclined her head toward the door to Skinner's
office.
     Mulder simply snorted at that, but took the two peace offerings
with a mumbled "Thank You" and disappeared back down to the basement.
     Adams was just hanging up his phone when he re-entered.  "Feeling
better?" she inquired innocently, a playful smile curving up her lips.
     The stress head squeezed tightly between his fingers, he stared
pointedly at her.  "Not really," he answered through clenched teeth.  He
dug his left index finger into one of the eyes of the little rubber toy.
     She puffed out a little breath before returning to her own desk. 
"Anyway," she began, letting his negative answer slip by, "that was one of
your 'friends'.  He said that he was sending over a fax for you to look at."
     "I can't wait," he muttered sarcastically, dropping heavily into his
chair.  It tilted back and he almost lost his balance, but he shot out a hand
to steady himself in time.
     He was halfway through typing the report that he had been working
on earlier when a series of beeps and whirring noises began to be emitted
from the fax machine.  Swallowing gravely, he stared at the machine over
the top of his glasses, sending up a silent prayer that it would continue to
work and he wouldn't have to get up.
     "Should that thing be making all that noise?" Adams asked,
watching as a crumpled piece of paper slid halfway out of its receiving tray
before stopping.
     Mulder sucked his lower lip between his teeth before resolutely
standing.  What's one more thing to add to the pot? he mused, taking three
quick strides to the errant machine.  One yank on the paper didn't dislodge
it, so he bent over the fax machine, intent on opening up the back to
manually remove the clog.
     Suddenly, surprising him, the paper started to feed through
correctly, and he began to straighten, but fate intervened again.  The tip of
his Garfield tie got caught, and began to follow the paper through the
machine.  "NO!  No, stop. Please.  Oh, I hate you," he whimpered, tugging

mightily on his tie.
     The fax machine stopped eating his tie only when it used enough
electricity to trip a circuit breaker in the basement, plunging them all into
darkness.  He leaned his elbows on top of the machine, burying his face in
his hands.
     A flashlight was clicked on behind him, and he heard his partner
fumbling around in the room.  "Do you have that damned thing
unplugged?" she asked over her shoulder, stopping beside the circuit box.
     Angrily swiping the cord from the wall, he answered her in the
affirmative, and moments later, they were brought back into the light.  He
kept his face buried in his hands, not moving a muscle.  He figured that
maybe if he just stayed put at the scene of the most recent mishap,  all these
bad things would stop happening to him.
     Adams stopped by his side, placing a pair of metal scissors on top
of the fax machine, just to the right of his tie.  "I'll be back in about ten
minutes.  I'm going down to the liquor store two blocks from here.  If I feel
the need for a stiff drink just from watching you, then you need one
desperately."
     Mulder just nodded and waited for her to leave the office before
moving.  His first action was to open his eyes.  Snarling at the machine, he
swiped up the scissors and grabbed his tie.  Two snips and he was free.
     "Damned piece of shit.  I hate this day.  Tuesdays.  I was not meant
to enjoy Tuesdays.  Memo to self: next year, take my birthday off!" he
yelled to no one in particular, seating himself carefully at his desk,
remembering what had almost happened the last time he had sat down.
     The only thing that hadn't happened to him that day was a
headache.  Of all the ridiculous, crazy assed things that he had been
subjected to, a plain old headache was all that he had been spared.  Laying
his head down on his desk, his arms dangling between his knees, he
laughed.  He laughed for a good while until his side hurt and happy little
tears were soaked into his blotter, smearing the ink of an appointment for
the twenty sixth.
     When the door opened, he paused long enough to identify his
partner before continuing to chuckle to himself.
     "Are you okay?" Adams asked, concerned at his sudden change of
demeanor.
     Mulder just shook his head, smiling widely at her.  "No, no I'm not
alright.  I have had the worst day in my life, and right now, there's not a
whole lot that could pull this one out of the shit pile.  And I'm laughing
about it.  I think I have finally had that mental breakdown that everyone
keeps asking me about," he answered, continuing to chuckle as he bent
under his desk to retrieve the scissors that he had dropped.
     "How about you just go home?  I'll get the fax fixed, and try to get
you a new monitor."
     "No, I'll be--shit!" he exclaimed, startled as his pager and desk
phone went off at the same time, startling him enough to make him lose his
balance and fall under the desk.  He hit his head on the way back up,
allowing him the opportunity to add 'headache' to the list of mishaps for the
day.
     "Yeah. Mulder," he growled into the phone, hunting around in his

pocket for his pager. 
     "Did my fax come through yet?" Frohike asked.
     Mulder snorted at the question, which proved to be the proverbial
straw that broke the camel's back.  " 'Did my fax come through yet?' " he
mocked, mimicking his friend's voice.  "Let me tell you where your
Goddamn fax is.  It's stuck in the Goddamn fax machine along with the
bottom half of my Goddamn tie.  If one more Goddamn bad thing happens
to me, I'm going to grab the closest thing that I can and shove it up my
next problem's ass!" he ranted, his fingers finally closing around the pager.
     "Okay.  Chill.  You sound like you've had a bad day.  I'll try back
later," Frohike said meekly.  He disconnected the line before Mulder had a
chance to apologize.
     "Damn it all to hell!" he exclaimed, slamming down the phone.  He
pressed the recall button on the pager, bringing up the caller's phone
number and a numerical message, if they had left one.  "Oh, God.  Ooooh,
God," he yelped, popping out of his chair upon seeing the numbers
displayed.
     "What?  Who is it?"  Adams asked, immediately joining his side. 
She grabbed the pager out of his limp fingers before it crashed to the floor. 
She didn't recognize the number, but the sequence of 9-1-1 was clear to
her.
     "Scully.  Dana.  My wife.  She's pregnant.  Maybe due today. 
Where are my keys?" he demanded, searching his pockets desperately.
     Adams watched him as he frantically looked for his key ring.  There
was no way that she could let him leave the office in this condition; it
wouldn't be in anyone's interest.  More than likely, he'd end up in a car
accident before he even got to the hospital, and who would benefit from
that?  
     Reaching out, she grabbed his arms and shook him.  "Mulder! 
Take a couple of deep breaths and listen to me.  I am going to drive you
over to the hospital.  You call your wife and make sure that she's actually
there.  You are in absolutely no condition to drive."
     He nodded quickly in agreement, sucking in a few gulps of air
before fumbling around in one jacket pocket for his cell phone.  As she
steered him out of the office, he punched in Scully's cell phone number

because that was the number that he had been paged from.
     After two rings, it was answered.  "Hello?  Dana Mulder's phone."
     "Tara?  Tara, is that you?" Mulder asked, pressing the up button on
the elevator.
     "Yeah, it's me.  Fox, she's, um, busy.  I think you know what she's
busy doing."
     "Which hospital?"
     "GW Medical Center.  She said she was brought here this past July. 
You've got time, Fox.  She won't be giving birth for a while yet."
     Mulder felt Adam's pulling him out of the elevator, so he followed. 
"Time.  Alright.  I'm coming now.  Is she in a room?"
     "Five-eleven, maternity.  I'll let her know that you'll be here as soon
as you can," Tara reassured him.
     "Good.  Thanks," he commented, ending the conversation.  He
stopped walking momentarily, and just stared out the front glass doors of
the Hoover.  He felt light headed all of a sudden, and he reached a hand out
for his partner to steady himself.
     "Come on.  Let's get you to the car before you pass out.  I'm not
strong enough to drag you down to the garage, and if you don't get there
on your own steam, I doubt that you'll be there to see your baby born,"
Adams said gently, tugging him along.
     He went without protest, the thought of holding his little baby girl
or boy warming him inside and out.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

George Washington Medical Center
Maternity Ward Lobby
6:37 pm

     Mulder tripped on his way in to the lobby, the sole of his shoe
catching on the carpet's edge.  He caught himself just before he ended up
sprawled on his ass in front of other fathers and grandparents and aunts and
uncles to be, glad that he didn't have humiliation to add to his ever
lengthening list of mishaps.  While he straightened, his eyes scanned the
room for someone recognizable, either Tara, Bill, or his sister.  His search
turned up negative for the two women, but he was successful when he
spotted Bill in a corner chair, sipping what looked like a cup of coffee.
     Bill chose that moment to look up, and a brief smile came to his lips
before he realized who it was that he was looking at.  Neutrality forming
on his features, he met Mulder half way.  "Took your time getting here," he
commented sarcastically, sipping at his coffee.
     The agent's mouth opened, ready to defend himself, but Adams
jumped in first.  "We got here as fast as we could.  There was a traffic jam
on the highway, and every off ramp was blocked because of it.  No amount
of horn blowing or badge flashing helped us move," she said coolly, staring
the red headed man down with ice cold grey eyes.
     Bill returned the stare, then let his gaze shift back to Mulder.  He
took in his slightly rumpled appearance, and felt an iota of sympathy for the
man.  He could vividly remember what it had been like when he had gotten
the call from Tara to say that she had gone into labor with Matty.  Mulder
was certainly doing better than he had.
     Jerking his head back towards the way they had come, he said,
"Tara came by about twenty minutes ago.  Dana's been moved to a delivery
suite; it's like a regular room but with all the right equipment.  The nurse's
station will tell you where to go."
     Nodding, Mulder turned to go back the way he had come, nearly
knocking down his partner.  He grunted as her elbow hit his stomach, but
he was able to keep the two of them upright.  Completely ignoring the
barely contained snicker from Bill, he glanced down at Adams, asking,
"You okay?"
     She nodded, a hand on his arm guiding him in the right direction. 
"I'll be waiting out here with him," she said, her head tilting back to
indicate Bill.  "I'll take care of calling Skinner.  He's probably wondering
where the hell we are, anyway."
     A silly little grin crossed his lips, and Mulder nodded again, heading
for the nurses station.  He caught her parting words of "Good luck" as he
rounded the corner.
     He stepped up to the nurses station, anxiously trying to get one of
the people's attention.  Come on, he thought, exasperated as the third
woman walked right by him, absorbed in a chart.  "Dana Mulder's room!"
he practically yelled, near wits end at being ignored.  
     The nurse that had just walked past him spun around, holding her
chart to her chest.  "Are you her husband?"
     Mulder nodded his head vigorously, jogging the few steps it took to
reach her.  "Yes.  I got stuck in traffic, of all things," he answered, pinching
the bridge of his nose.
     The nurse simply smiled at the father to be.  Clearly, he was
nervous about what was to come; she had seen it enough to know it. 
Touching his suit coat briefly, she gained his attention before speaking. 
"Come on.  I'll take you down to her suite.  Her sister in law is in there,
coaching her.  Put these on."  She led him over to a cabinet, sized him in
her head, then grabbed out the appropriate scrubs for him to wear. 
"Normally, it's just the top half, but you look a little worse for the wear. 
We'll pass a men's room on our way."
     Once changed, his suit now rolled into a tight little ball that he had
secured with what was left of his Garfield tie, he numbly followed the nurse
towards his wife's room.  He peeked in through the window in the door,
swallowing nervously as he saw her reclined on a bed, Tara at her side,
speaking with her.  
     "I don't think I have to ask you if this is your first," the nurse
remarked, an amused tone to her voice as she pushed the door open.
     Mulder stared mutely over at Scully, not bothering to respond to
the other woman's words.  He felt his arm being tugged, and he walked the
few steps forward into the room.  
     At that moment, Tara and Scully glanced his way.  Tara let out a
huge breath of relief, and Scully practically yelled at him, "It's about damn
time!"
     Unclasping her finger's from her sister in law's, Tara walked over to
where Mulder was.  She gave him a tight hug before holding him at arms
length.  "The aura coming off of you says that you've had a bad day," she
remarked simply.
     Mulder snorted at her words, letting his eyes roll heavenward for a
moment before returning to the woman's face.  "The worst, really, until
now.  I got stuck in traffic, among other things."
     She squeezed his arm briefly, already pulling off the bluish green
shirt.  "Sam's still down with Karen and the kids.  Her son was feeling a
little sick, so she didn't come to lunch with us.  I'll call her while you're in
here with your family," she answered, winking at him before she left the
room.
     "Mulder, come here."
     Those three words spoken by his wife froze him to the spot that he
was standing at.  Wide eyed, he stared over at Scully, his brain screaming
at his legs to move, but the appendages willfully disobeying him.  He knew
that he was panicking the moment he tried to catch his breath.
     He vaguely heard Scully tell one of the nurses that he was
hyperventilating, but he pushed away the hands that tried to get him to sit
down.  Bending at the waist, he gripped his knees with white knuckled
fingers and caught his breath, before some how making his legs walk him
over to her bedside.
     Managing a smile, he took hold of her hand, dropping a light kiss
on her lips.
     She kissed him back, giving his hand a squeeze.  "You look like
hell, Fox," she remarked candidly.
     A whimper escaped him, and he tilted his head back, eyes shut and
mouth slightly open.  "You will not *believe* what all has happened to
me," he answered.  He met her eyes with his, ready to explain, but a sharp
contraction interrupted his plans.
     Someone else wanted to join the party.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

10:51 pm

     Bill had been alone with Tara in the waiting room since around
seven thirty, when Chris Adams had departed for her own home.  They had
received a telephone call not long ago, on Scully's cellular, of which Tara
was still the possessor of, that Assistant Director Skinner most likely would
be stopping by to check on the "proud parents", and to make sure that his
agent would be getting home alright.
     Tara yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.  "I'm
going down to the cafeteria to get some coffee and maybe a sandwich. 
You want anything?" she asked, standing up and stretching.
     Shaking his head, he watched as his wife departed, then hunkered
down in his uncomfortably cushioned chair, waiting for either a nurse or
Mulder to come out.  In the back of his mind, the job that he had to do
screamed at him, but he managed not to think too much about it.  The time
would come, and when it did, he would act and then, hopefully, not drink
himself into an early grave over the guilt and grief he would cause.
     He shut his eyes and let himself drift.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

     Samantha walked quietly down the hospital corridors, not wanting
to wake any of the new parents or babies on the maternity floor.  She had
gotten Tara's call about the impending birth at around seven, and had left
as soon as she made sure that Karen Scully could watch her two children. 
Now, near eleven, she was wondering if the baby had arrived yet, or if she
had gotten there in time.
     As her mind drifted on thoughts of the nephew she knew would be
arriving soon, she stepped into the lobby, glancing around for familiar
faces, much like her brother had several hours before.  She gasped when
her eyes came to rest on Bill Scully.
     It can't be, she thought desperately, recognition flaring in her hazel
gaze.  What is he doing here?  So soon?
     Bill's head came up from against the wall at her tiny gasp, his eyes
sliding open.  They went wide with shock upon seeing her, and he sat
rigidly in his chair.  Recognition flashed between both parties, each curious
about the other's presence.
     When Samantha heard someone step up behind her, she turned
slightly, keeping her gaze on the man that she had come to hate over recent
years.
     "Sam!  Thank God!  Mulder'll be so happy that you're here!" Tara
exclaimed, wrapping the stunned woman in a fierce hug, before leading her
over to her husband.  "Sam, this is Bill, my husband.  Bill, this is Mulder's
sister, Samantha."
     Samantha watched as Bill Scully stood, plastering on a "nice to
meet you" smile while reaching out with false cheerfulness to shake her
hand.  "Nice to meet you," he said.
     "The same," Samantha responded, somehow making her voice
work.  She didn't know him as Bill Scully.  She knew him from her work;
what little they had on him they had confiscated from one of the
Consortium's facilities on a raid.  How had he-
     Sudden comprehension dawned on her, making her feel weak
kneed.  She dropped warily into a chair, making it look like she just sat
down heavily, and had not, in actuality, almost fainted.  Tara's mindless
chatter slid through her, not disrupting the fears that she really felt.  She
knew that Cancer Man and his friends wanted this baby for their work; the
child had been part of their plan for years now, since the beginning.  But to
be delivered into the hands of evil by your own uncle?  If she hadn't known
all that she did about the man sitting beside her, she never would have
believed it possible.
     One glance at Bill, and she knew that what she had just thought
was true.  The timetable had been stepped up, and more than likely, her
little nephew would never know the love of his own parents.
     Bill swallowed under Samantha's gaze.  From the fire that was in
the other woman's eyes, he knew that she had put the puzzle pieces of his
job together one by one, and the final one had just slipped into place for
her.  His employer (Bill didn't even know the man's name) had never
mentioned that Mulder's sister had been working among that rebel group in
Pennsylvania when he had been sent up there for damage control earlier in
the year.  A fool he was for never figuring it out for himself.
     Dammit!  What now? he thought desperately, scratching the back
of his head.  He toed the carpet before him, feeling the sudden need for
fresh air.  "I'll be back in a little while.  I need to stretch my legs," he lied,
dropping a kiss on his wife's cheek before hastily retreating from the room.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

     Tara Scully stared after her husband, a confused look scrunching
her eyebrows together.  She lowered her gaze to Samantha, who had
seated herself in one of the waiting lobby's chairs.  Noticing the pale
complexion, with a little hint of red on her cheeks, she became concerned. 
"Are you feeling alright, Sam?  You look a little flushed."
     The other woman shook her head, running the fingers of one hand
through her shoulder length, curly brown hair.  Shaking off the feeling of
unease that had settled over her the moment that she had laid eyes upon
Bill Scully, she met Tara's gaze with a strong one of her own.  "I'm fine. 
I'm just feeling a little tired all of a sudden.  I've been up for over fifteen
hours, and the drive was long.  Once I get a little bit of food in me, I should
be fine."
     Smiling, glad that the other woman wasn't coming down with
anything, Tara held out the plastic box that contained a whole ham and
cheese sandwich.  "We can share.  There's more than enough for us both."
     Samantha reluctantly took the offered half sandwich, cursing herself
for saying anything about food.  Food was the last thing that she needed
right then.  What she really wanted to do was get in contact with some of

her people up in Williamsport, and find out if Bill Scully had had any
contact with Cancer Man with in the past nine months.  The thought nearly
made her sick to her stomach, for she knew with her heart that whatever it
was that Bill was going to do, not one member of his family was aware of
any part of it.
     She barely registered the sandwich being chewed and swallowed,
and had to ask Tara to repeat her occasional questions a few times.  The
food felt like lead in the bottom of her stomach, and she was ready to
excuse herself to the ladies room when a nurse walked into the lobby, a
bright smile on her face.  
     Tara jumped up immediately, recognizing her as one of the nurse's
that had been in with Dana and Mulder.  "So?  Any baby yet?" she asked
eagerly, motioning Sam to join her in the middle of the room.  They were
the only ones there, so standing in the middle of the room didn't feel so
ridiculous and rude.
     Samantha was just joining Tara and the nurse when the woman
gave her answer.  "Yes, Mrs. Mulder just delivered.  It's a healthy little
boy, seven pounds two ounces.  I'll be back in about an hour to take you
there to see them."
     Both women nodded and watched as the nurse retreated back
through the doors.  
     Tara draped her arm over Samantha's shoulder, a wistful smile on
her face.  "It feels wonderful to be an aunt again.  I've got another little
baby to spoil."
     Samantha agreed, a genuine smile turning up her lips for the first
time since arriving at the hospital.  No matter how long that little baby was
meant to stay with them, she would love him and spoil him as much as she
was sure that her brother would be spoiling the child.  Draping her arm
over Tara's shoulder, much like the other woman had done to her, she
vowed to keep that baby just where he was right then: in his mother's and
father's arms.  And she would keep that vow if it proved the last thing she'd
ever do.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

     Post birth by nearly half an hour, Mulder noticed that his wife had
finally begun to lose that overheated look of a woman in labor.  He
smoothed back her hair, tucking some errant strands carefully and tenderly
behind her ear.  Much as he had thought would have happened, he felt
vaguely proud of himself that he hadn't lost consciousness during any part
of the delivery.  It would have been the proverbial little bow to wrap up his
entire day had he passed out.
     Reaching a finger down to lightly trace the newborn's lips, he said
quietly, his voice full of love, "He is, by far, the best birthday present
anyone could have asked for."
     "He's the best that I could have given," Scully answered, shifting as
Mulder came to sit up on the bed with her, sliding one arm behind her
shoulders.  "Of course, there is a Mickey Mouse tie waiting for you back
home."
     Mulder chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake the baby.  "This is
much better.  Did you know that the only part of the human body that is
fully grown at birth is the eye?"
     Scully bit back a laugh, but just shook her head instead.  The
strange facts that were constantly coming from his mouth always managed
to keep her entertained.  "Yes, Fox.  As a doctor, I had picked that one
up."  She gazed down at the newborn in her arms.  Resting her head back
against his shoulder, she commented, "He looks like you."
     "How so?  He has your nose; I am thankful for that," he remarked,
drawing one fingertip down the tiny bridge.
     A little hand waved, followed quickly by a giant Baby Yawn.  Both
parents sighed contentedly.  "He just does, Mulder.  I think it's the mouth. 
When this kid learns how to pout, my God!  We're going to have to swat
the girls off him like flies," she laughed.
     "Nah, if he's anything like his father, he'll run for the hills each time
'till he's fifteen.  But then again, if he's anything like his father, we're going
to be eaten out of house and home by then, too," he joked, watching as the
baby opened his eyes for the first time, however briefly.  His smile doubled
then, as he stared into the bright newborn blue eyes.  "Should we name him
now?" he asked quietly.
     Scully nodded, as enthralled by the two giant blue eyes as he was. 
"I was thinking Todd or Anthony.  Anthony was my mother's maiden
name, and Todd . . . . Mulder, I know how much you hate your first name,
but after that dream I had, the first name that I landed upon in the baby
name book was 'Todd'.  It's Scottish for 'Fox', and I had a hard time
disregarding it," she admitted, her eyes shining with emotion.
     He simply nodded, trying out the name in his head.  Todd was a
strong name, and he found himself liking it.  "What it means is one of the
most special things behind a name," he said quietly, his eyes soft as he
gazed upon his son.  
     Scully waited patiently for the names that he had picked, and was
ready to prompt him when he snapped out of his daze with an apologetic
smile.
     "Sorry.  I got lost in the moment," he admitted, running a hand
through his hair.  "Ethan Mackenzie."
     Nodding, she mulled each over in her head, making various pairs of
names while she waited for any explanation, if he even had any.  Anthony
Ethan.  Todd Ethan.  Anthony Mackenzie.  Todd Mackenzie.  Ethan
Anthony.
     She stopped there when he began to speak, his voice low, almost
reverential to the words that he was speaking.  "Ethan was my
grandfather's name.  He died when I was eleven, the summer before Sam
was taken.  He was the only person on my father's side of the family that I
had any contact with.  I guess I should have told you this before, Dana, but
I'm part Jewish.  My mother was Lutheran, and Dad converted.  His family
pretty much told him not to come back, but Grampa didn't believe what the
rest of his family did.  Every time that we'd go to the summer house, he'd
come and stay with us for a few weeks.  Sam and I got birthday and
Christmas presents from him.  Hanukkah presents, too.  He had a heart
attack right out in our back yard, while he was playing ball with us.  He
pretty much died right before my eyes.  I was devastated."  He paused after
this, gathering back his emotions.  It had been years since he had spoken
about his Grandfather Mulder, and it still hurt to think back on those last
days with him.
     "What about Mackenzie?  Does that have special meaning, too?"
Scully inquired softly, her fingers reaching up to brush away a tear that he
hadn't even known had fallen.
     He nodded, sniffling slightly.  "Yeah.  He was my roommate at
Oxford for two years.  He helped me when I was floundering after Phoebe
put me out on my ass.  He was my only real friend that I had there.  I think
we were more kindred spirits, if anything.  He was from Ireland, and not a
lot of the folks there at Oxford liked him too much.  He was killed in a car
accident our third year there."  He let his words stop at that point, unsure if
he could really go into the depth of the friendship that he had had with his
college roommate.  Seventeen years gone, and there was still a void that
the shattered friendship had left.
     Scully shifted against him, turning so that she could see into his
expressive hazel eyes.  Settling upon what she thought of as the best name
for their child, she spoke.  "How does 'Todd Mackenzie' sound to you?"
she asked, her voice gentle.
     He nodded his agreement.  "It sounds wonderful.  My grandfather

lives on in blood, and Mackie lives on in name.  And your mother lives on
in spirit," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.
     Scully smiled widely, darting her lips forward to touch his.  "I'll
agree to that.  Now, how about Daddy and his little boy go sit in that chair
for awhile?  Mother is tired, and she wants to sleep."
     Taking the hint, Mulder crawled from the bed, carefully taking the
now sleeping newborn with him to the chair.  He sat down, cradling Todd
against his chest, and sighed in contentment.  Despite all that had happened
to him that day, this truly had turned out to be his best birthday ever.

                   * * * * * * * * * *

     After over an hour of wandering, Bill decided to make his way back
toward the maternity wing.  Seeing Samantha had really thrown him for a
loop.  Never had he expected to see one of Them outside of the context of
cover ups and conspiracies, the things that he was now forced to be a part
of on the side.  The shock had yet to wear off, and he felt inside of him that
it, more than likely, never would.  
     He arrived at the lobby only to see it devoid of people, quietness
having descended over the room like a cloak of heavy velvet.  Apparently,
he realized, heading toward the nurse's station, the baby has arrived. 
Flagging a nurse, he asked, "Has Dana Sc- I mean Dana Mulder, has she
delivered yet?"
     The nurse nodded and pointed down the hall.  "You're the brother?" 
At his affirmative answer, she responded with, "The other's are in visiting
with them now.  Second door on your left."
     Bill thanked the woman and proceeded down the corridor, stopping
before the correct door.  His hand was on the knob, but he paused when
his fingers brushed the cool metal, not quite clasping it.
     How could he go in there, smiling and all happy for Dana and her
husband, when at the next opportunity, he was to spirit away the newborn
to a life of tests and cold hearts?  How could he look his own baby sister in
the face, and say "Congrats, Jelly Bean", knowing that the baby she had

just given birth too was never meant to stay with it's parents?  How could
he go in there, with a false front to his own wife, having done what he had
and about to do what he must?
     Bill shuddered, folding his arms around his chest.  He sucked in
several breaths, standing a couple of feet away from the door.  He was just
close enough that he could see the people inside the room, but just far
enough away that the ones inside more than likely could not see him.
     Watching as Mulder carefully placed the infant into the arms of a
balding, middle aged man, Bill wondered where he had gone wrong.  In
order to save his family, he had deceived them.  And in order to keep his
family safe, he had to tear them apart.  It was definitely a no win situation.
     At that moment, his eyes met with Mulder's.  The new father smiled
congenially, waving him inside.  Bill nodded and sucked in another breath,
opening the door.  He stepped inside, and Tara immediately pulled him
over to the unfamiliar man that was holding his nephew.
     Up close, Bill recognized the man.  All he had seen of him was the
back of his head, and now at his side, Bill remarked, "Assistant Director
Skinner.  Glad to meet you again on more happier terms."
     Skinner nodded, still holding the newborn.  "Bill.  Same here.  I'd
shake your hand, but mine are occupied at the moment."
     Bill smiled his assurance, letting his eyes fall upon the infant for the
first time.  Tiny little features that looked so much like his father almost
made Bill want to run screaming from the room, cursing the smoking
bastard to an early grave.  He had almost managed to steal his feelings for
the little baby away from the center of his heart until Mulder, at Dana's
urging, carefully took Todd back and placed him in his uncle's arms.
     In one second, Bill Scully's heart broke and repaired itself, forging a
new path.  Smoking bastard or no, he knew that there was no way that he
could take this child from his parents.  He would find a way to keep his
family safe; there were other parts of his soul that he could bargain off to
his chain smoking employer.  Little Todd had landed in his heart, and he
would not allow them to take him away.
     Not if he had anything to say about it.

The End of Shades of the Truth Interlude: And Baby Makes Three

I hope everyone that is reading this series enjoyed this little interlude.  I
certainly had fun writing it (especially the B-day mishaps), and I'm sure
Star had fun coming up with some of the ideas!  Book Two will be awhile
in coming.  My brain is fried, and not all of the ideas have been laid out yet. 
What to look for in the next Book: a time jump of a year and a half, what
exactly Bill did to get himself in Cancer Man's "Good Graces", and so
much angst that you'll need to put on a bathing suit and little flotation
devices to get through it!  Meanwhile, we would enjoy some feedback
please.  Our e-mail addies are at the top.  Flattery gets you everywhere!  ;-)--part1_68a6714a.244280ba_boundary--