Title: Elmo
Author: Catwoman
Written: December 1997
Category: An X-Files Romance
Official Disclaimer: All characters herein are the property of Chris Carter (all hail), 1013 productions and Fox Television. The Author presumes to make no money off of their misery...er, use, and even if she did presume to...well, let's just say she'd be a bloody idiot. Hey, shut-up. I don't need to hear it twice.

Disclaimers-R-Us: Hello everybody! T'sup? Okay, I know: get on with it. This is just a little vignette I came up with as I sat in a pool of my own blood, which I coughed up when I had the heart attack, after I'd hyperventilated and nearly collapsed one lung--okay, well, anyway, this is just a little vignette I came up with upon seeing the latest (my time), 'Christmas Carol'. I tell ya, I haven't wanted to kill Chris so badly since...well, last week. No offense, man, but you're KILLING ME! Well, that said-to make a long story short-yeah, I know, too late--this is just some conjecture on my part as I sit here listening to my new IV drip while I wait for next week to roll around...and a little romance between our two favorite idiots--um, heros--is involved, of course-hey, it's M.E.! So, you've been warned. If that turns your stomach, leave now. Bye everybody!

By the way, the name of the story comes from the Holly McNarland song 'Elmo', and I've also quoted a whole bunch of her lyrics in the story. (Some of you may have noticed I love quoting lyrics.) I seriously recommend you all go out and buy her album. It rocks.

Distribute: Keep my name on it and don't try to publish or sell it (yeah right).

Note: You should know everything up to 'Christmas Carol'. Otherwise you WON'T understand. And remember, 'Emily' (the episode) hasn't happened yet.

Summary: Scully calls Mulder in a fit of indecision, again, and loses her nerve, again. But this time, Mulder's not letting her off the hook.


I'm still thinking about Elmo

Elmo 5 o'clock special

I'm still thinking about you
1000 ways to kill you
I'm still dreaming in pink
Gives me reason to think
When I lay down my head I'm still okay
When I lay down my head to go to bed

Where do you fit in


PRELUDE

The phone rang.

Fox Mulder glanced at his watch. 1:03. AM. Only one person would call him so late. Or at least he hoped it would be that person.

He reached over and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello?"

Complete and utter silence.

It was her all right.

"Hello?" he tried again.

Still silence. It was usually right about now that she hung up. He couldn't let her hang up. Not this time.

//End Prelude


She signed the slip quickly, carelessly, not even sure she was signing her signature. Her eyes remained glued to the label on the package.

She could feel the delivery man watching her, and knew that it was because she was shaking so badly. It had been one hell of a trial these last few days, and now was the real moment of truth. Emily: Melissa's baby, or not?

She thanked the man and closed the door after him, and, unable to wait, she pulled out the forms enclosed in the blue envelope as she walked back into the living room, where the happy sounds of her family's excursion into the wonder of Christmas morning were a mere buzz in her distracted ears.

She stopped short.

Oh God. *Oh God.*

Not Melissa's child after all.

Someone in the family noticed her expression. She didn't recognize who.

"Dana? What is it?"

She looked up, eyes wild and face stricken, and met the worried gazes of her family.

"What does it say?"

She looked back down, blinking back the sudden urge to cry.

"It says, definitively, Melissa is not Emily's mother, but they found striking genetic similarities between Melissa and Emily--so many that they ran Emily's DNA against another sample they already had in the lab," her voice was grim, her jaw slack, her eyes shining as she looked back up into the confused faces of her mother Maggie, her brother Bill, and his wife Tara.

"What sample?" her mother asked, eyes troubled. She'd seen enough to suspect. She knew what it meant.

"What are you trying to say?" Bill asked, not catching on in the slightest.

"According to this..." she trailed off and blinked. "*I* am Emily's mother."

Complete and utter silence.



Let me tell you a story
It's not all it's cracked up to be
About a UFO in a dream


She flew out of sleep with a grunt and an incongruous graceful fling of her legs and arms. The covers went flying. Her throat felt the dry, unheard scream that the woman in her dream had uttered as her abdomen had been neatly cut and then inflated. As her ovaries had been scraped of their produce, leaving them unable to produce anymore.

God, she thought, thoroughly frightened by the dream.

Emily's father could be anyone. She could be Cancerman's kid, for Christ's sake.

Her breath caught in her throat. Shit.

She ran her hands back through her hair and tried to force herself to breathe. It wasn't working very well.

Mulder, she thought. It was a name that flew unbidden into her mind at the strangest times, for no apparent reason. But usually when she was hurting. He was a welcome thought, but she was afraid to welcome him. Into her vulnerability. Into the fire.

I have to call him, she thought, shaking her head even as she thought it. I need to.

For God's sakes, why?

I...I've got to call him.

She reached over and picked up her cell phone.

It rang twice before he picked up, and his voice, not in the slightest touched by sleep, soothed its way into her mind.

"Hello?"

Oh, God. There was nothing to say.

"Hello?"

Oh God. Why the hell had she called him? She kept doing this; calling and then chickening out. She couldn't make up her mind.

"Hello?"

Oh God. She had to hang up. She couldn't talk to him. Not now.

She had just about made up her mind to hang up when his voice came again.

"Scully?" The one word was as tentative and unsure as she felt.

Still she was silent.

He knew.


Crazy mirror of myself
The only question is for myself
And my question would be
What am I doing here


He couldn't let her hang up. Not this time. He took a deep breath and ventured forth.

"Scully?"

He heard the soft catch of her breath. But she remained silent. A moment passed.

He took another deep breath. It's everything or nothing, buddy.

"Scully? Is that you? Scully, where are you?"

Nothing.

"Scully? Listen...I know you're scared to talk to me. I understand...I understand the need to keep your pride intact. But I can't let you keep doing this to yourself. I'm here for you, Scully. You're always there when I need someone to talk to, even in the middle of the night. I don't feel the need to hide from you. You shouldn't think you have to hide from me. We're partners, Scully...friends. Please, Scully, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

Oh, God. Was that really him spewing that sentimental crap?

Still no response. But he still heard her breath. She hadn't hung up yet. She was listening but not giving in.

He lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

"Scully, come on, talk to me."

A moment passed, and then he heard her voice, soft and shy and hesitant and shaky, backed by silent tears.

"Mulder?"

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Scully," he shook his head. "For a minute there I thought I was making a complete fool of myself. You know, giving the phone taps something to think about."

Something was really wrong. He couldn't sense that tight little smile. Something was very, very wrong.


Maybe I'm a coward
I'm only scared of you
Or maybe I'm just tired of living here


She drew in another shaky breath.

"Scully? You okay?"

She shook her head, aware that he couldn't see, but unable to speak. She was going to cry, she just knew it. The tears were already streaming down her cheeks.

"Scully? What's wrong--what's happened?"

She took another breath.

"Mulder...something's happened...I don't..."

"It's okay, Scully. Tell me what's happened."

Breath was uncomfortably short.

"Mulder...I have a daughter."

There was a short silence, and she could hear her heart pounding in the back of her throat.

"Could you run that by me again, Scully? I don't think I heard you correctly."

"You heard correctly, Mulder," she smiled faintly. Classic Mulder response. "I have a daughter."

Another short silence.

"Are you...pregnant, Scully? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"No, I'm not pregnant. I already have a daughter."

"Um...how?"

It wasn't everyday she had a chance to shock her partner this badly. It would have been humorous in any other situation. Right now it was hysterical, and that wasn't a good sign. She clamped down the giggles in her teeth.

"When they abducted me, Mulder. They took some of my ova."

Now his silence was out of a different kind of shock. A more mortified one.

"I didn't know you knew about that," he whispered.

"I've known all along," she whispered back.

"God, Scully, I'm sorry..."

"That's not important now, Mulder. We'll discuss that later."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"I'll start from the beginning."

She took a deep breath.

"Just after I arrived at Bill's house here in San Diego the other day, I received a phone call. It was a woman's voice. She called me by name and gave me a very peculiar, very disturbing message. 'She needs your help. She needs you. Go to her.' That was all she said. I traced the call to a house owned by a family named the Sims.

"What I found there was a murder scene. And when I told the detective in charge of the investigation that I'd been called from that address, he informed me that the phones had been off the hook for the last three hours. I couldn't have been phoned from there. There was nothing I could do, so I went home, disturbed but willing to forget the incident. But that night, in the middle of the night, I received another call. Same message. Coming from the same address. Again, it was determined that no one had called from that house. And I swear, Mulder...that woman sounded exactly like Melissa."

He was silent, and then she heard a choked, "Melissa? As in, your dead sister, Melissa?"

"Yes. What does it mean, Mulder?"

"I don't know what it means, Scully. Go on."

She took several deep breaths this time.

"I went to the detective and asked to see everything he had on the murder-- which was then presumed to be a suicide. In the woman's purse I found a picture of her three year old little girl. She looked exactly like the young Melissa that I remembered. So I took the picture home and compared pictures. They could have been twins, Mulder.

"I called Danny and had him send me the PCR results from the tests done during Missy's murder investigation, and I compared those results with those of the little girl, which I had picked up earlier that day. They matched exactly to the naked eye. But mom insisted it couldn't be right, so I ordered a more comprehensive test. Meanwhile, because of various circumstances, I came to believe that Rebecca Sim's husband had murdered her, and I had a murder investigation opened. He confessed not long after. He was put in jail and shortly after was visited by two...well, I'm sure you know the kind of men I'm talking about..."

"I'm afraid I do," he agreed gravely.

"...and left strangled to death in his cell. Therefore, the girl, who, by the way, was adopted, was orphaned. I already felt so attached to this girl--I was convinced she was Missy's child--that I petitioned for adoption."

"Hold on," Mulder interrupted. "You...what? You...were going to adopt a child and you weren't going to tell me?"

She didn't answer. She swallowed.

"Of course. I'm sorry. Go on."

"My petition was denied for what I now realize were truly good reasons. Then, early this morning, the results from the tests I had ordered came back. They determined that Melissa was not the child's mother--but the genetic similarities were so great that they ran the child's DNA against my sample just to see..."

Her breath hitched in her throat.

"And she's my daughter, Mulder."

Now she lost it, and the tears were freely running down her cheeks, the soft sobs interrupting her voice.

"I have no idea who the father could be," she clasped the back of her neck and let out a desperate sob. "I don't even know if I want to know."

She took a breath, closed her eyes, and whispered in his ear.

"I don't know what to do."

He was silent for a moment.

"God, Scully. Are you...can you...can I come up?"

She caught her breath. She hadn't even considered...God, what a wonderful thought.

"Scully? Do you...want me to come up?"

She considered for a long moment.

"It's okay, Scully."

"Yes, Mulder, I want you to come up," she whispered.

"Okay. Can I...is your family going to mind?"

"Bill might not like it...he'd be mad if he even knew I'd called you. He doesn't like you very much."

"I'd gathered that," he said grimly, and she wondered just what exactly she'd missed while she'd been in the hospital dying with her cancer.

"I'll...I'll ask mom," she breathed, and padded across the room. The door creaked slightly as it opened, and when she leaned her head out, she found Maggie almost to the top of the stairs with a glass of warm milk in her hand. She stopped short as she saw her daughter in the doorway, her face streaked with tears and eyes clouded darkly, her cell-phone pressed tightly to her ear.

Scully let the phone slip in her hand a bit and whispered, "Mom, may I speak to you?"

Maggie nodded, eyes wide, and followed her daughter into the bedroom, where Scully closed the door behind them.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Maggie asked immediately, reaching up to tuck a strand of shining auburn hair behind her daughter's ear.

Scully merely shook her head at the question and went on with her own question.

"Mom, can Mulder come up for awhile?" she asked, eyes wide and bright. Instinctively by now her hand had come up to cover the receiver so that he couldn't hear.

Maggie looked surprised.

"Sure, sweetheart," she responded, and smiled. "We'd be glad to have him."

"Bill won't be so glad," Scully whispered. "But mom...I really...I really want him here right now. I need him to be here."

"Of course, honey," Maggie smiled again.

Scully nodded and tried to blink back the continuing tears.

"May I talk to him for a moment?"

"Yeah, sure," she whispered, and replaced the phone at her mouth. "Mulder, mom wants to talk to you for a minute."

"Okay," he responded easily. Little did she know that her covering of the phone hadn't impeded his keen hearing in the slightest.

She handed the phone to her mother.

"Hello? Fox?" Maggie asked into the phone.

"Mrs. Scully," he replied warmly and with something like relief.

"Hi Fox," she said, the warmth moving into her own voice. "How are you? Merry Christmas."

"I'm fine, Mrs. Scully, and Merry Christmas to you to. So, you really don't mind if I come up for a while?"

"Of course not, Fox," she smiled. "I wanted you to come, remember?"

He was strangely silent. It dawned on her and she looked at Scully, who turned away, eyes closed, skin pale.

"She didn't ask," Maggie said, not accusing, but indicating.

Mulder cleared his throat.

"It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Scully."

She forced another smile.

"You too, Fox. See you soon. Bye."

And she handed the phone to Scully, who took it and held it up to her ear, wiping away tears with the other hand.

Maggie smiled warmly at her daughter, eyes severely confused, and with a last running of her fingers through Scully's hair, she left the room, quietly closing the door behind herself.

Scully breathed.

"I'm sorry, Mulder."

"It's okay," he replied, voice soft. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," she took another deep breath.

"Listen, I'm going to catch the next flight out, okay? I should be there within an hour or so. Do you mind if I arrive in the middle of the night?"

"Of course not," she shook her head.

"Okay. I'll come to the back door and knock out SOS softly, so I won't wake the whole house. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed.

"Wait by the door for me so you'll hear, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can, Scully. Just hang on."

"'Kay," she whispered again.

"Bye."

"Bye."


And I saw danger
When I went to look the other way
Didn't think I'd miss you much D
idn't think, I know I never think
Didn't think I'd miss you much I forgot to think


God, Mulder thought as he tapped his feet impatiently, desperately wishing the plane on. I can't believe this is happening.

God. Who's the father?


Every time I turn around
And I'm scared they'll see me
And every time I turn around
And there's still no smile
And my eyes they hurt
From all the rubbing
And my mind it hurts
From my eyes


Scully lifted her head as she heard the first soft knocking, scarcely daring to believe that it could really be him. Had she really had that dream-like phone call with him? Had she really asked him to come up just to ease her mind? Was it really him at the door at 3:32 in the morning?

She crawled across the floor to the door, got to her feet, clicked all the locks open, and swung open the door.

And there he was, staring at her with those sad, I'm so sorry, soulful puppy- dog eyes.

"You need me?" he asked, unsure as to why it was the first thing out of his mouth, but knowing he couldn't have stopped it. His tone was unsure, his eyes focused purely on hers. She stood there, knuckles white where they clutched the door handle, body wrapped in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt with a low neckline, her hair loosely about her face and her blue eyes wild with worry and fear and sadness and shame. At his comment, she dropped her head, eyes closing.

"You heard," she said simply, voice low, grave.

"Yes," he agreed, and he stepped inside, forcing her to step back. He closed and locked the door. "I won't hold it against you," he assured her.

"Yes, I need you," she breathed, keeping her head down.

She finally looked up at him, eyes shining.

"Thank you for coming," she whispered. Then she turned and motioned for him to follow her. She led him up to her room, and she closed the door behind them and motioned with a finger to her lips for them to be quiet. She sat down on the edge of the bed and propped her elbows on her knees as she watched him with her luminescent eyes. So, it was his move.

"Why me, Scully?" he asked, eyes alight with fire. "Why is it me you need?"

She dropped her head again, then rolled it up and met his eyes again.

"I don't honestly know, Mulder," she said, voice just as soft as his. "I just...I don't know."

A smile broke out on his face, and then gradually faded. She continued to watch him, her eyes sad.

"Thanks for letting me come," he finally said.

She smiled faintly, and he could see the strain in her face. He reached out his hands towards her, and she hesitated for a moment, saw the look in his eyes, and took his hands. He pulled and she came willingly, wrapping herself into his arms, standing on her toes to allow herself to wrap her arms around his neck, her face buried into his Adam's apple.

"Oh God," she whispered against his skin, the gentle sobs shaking her slight form again. "Oh God."

He held her for many long moments, waiting as she gradually unfolded herself enough to fold into a more comfortable position instead, her head fitting neatly under his chin, her arms around his waist. He rubbed her back; waited for the sobs to subside. Finally they did, and he pulled back just enough to take her face in his hands, and he reached down and kissed her forehead, as he'd done so many months ago when he'd held her like this and comforted her in the hallway of a cold hospital where she'd lost some more of her little remaining innocence--enough to stab.

Her breath caught again, then came, even more ragged than before.

"I'm so sorry, Scully," he whispered to her. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," she whispered back, meeting his eyes as he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away tears.

He simply shook his head and reached down to kiss the tears off of her closed eyelids.

"We'll get through this," he whispered. "Like we always do."

And then, before even he knew what was happening, his lips were brushing ever so slightly against hers, and then fastening in a gentle kiss. Her lips were warm and soft and supple and contained no hesitancy or fear, to his surprise. Instead, they responded with a warmth he could never have expected. He drew back quickly.

"I...I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to...I'm sorry." Finally, she opened her eyes, and the sudden warmth that glowed in them stopped him in his tracks. God, she was beautiful when she looked at him like that.

She reached out one hand and curled it around his fingers.

"We're already lovers, you and I," she said with an ironic smile. "Just not physically yet. We're both too scared. But tonight...tonight I think...I think we need this. I need this."

She breathed in and out smoothly and went on, eyes shining.

"I need you, Mulder. If all you do is hold me in your arms all night, stay with me tonight."

He breathed, as she had done, and watched as though entranced as she eyed him, then stepped forward and onto her toes again, her lips connecting with his, firmly this time. He responded instantly, bending his neck down so that she could stand firmly on her feet. His hands rested gently on her hips as he held her close to him, their lips exploring each other with the eagerness of brand new lovers. And, he realized, just as she'd said, it was only physically that they were new lovers. They'd been together like this for ages. Just not physically. God, her lips felt so good against his.

His teeth raked gently over her bottom lip, and her lips opened just enough to let his tongue slip into her mouth, where it met hers.

Except for the occasional impulsive gasp or groan, and a rare whispered, indiscernible word, they were silent as they made love to each other, softly, slowly, carefully, gently. The rest of the night passed with Scully wrapped in Mulder's arms, her silent tears staining his chest as it rose up and down beneath her head.


My body feels long
And my legs are as smooth as candy
I'm as liquid as the sea
A place for you and me


Mulder woke up in the bed alone, and immediately wondered what his next step was. This was Bill (Junior) Scully's house, and Bill Jr. didn't exactly like Mulder, and not only was Mulder in Bill's house, but he had also had sex with Bill's little sister that night, and spent the night in her room. Not everything was exactly perfect.

Oh well. What's a black eye?

He rolled off of the bed and dressed, quickly and methodically, then quietly opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. He found Maggie Scully on her way up the stairs, and she noticed him immediately and smiled brilliantly.

"Fox!" she exclaimed in a relatively hushed voice, and she hurried forward to give him a quick hug. "I was just coming to see if you were awake yet."

He smiled back at her.

"Hey, Mrs. Scully," he greeted her, then gazed at her almost apologetically. "Does Bill know I'm here?"

"Yes," she nodded, then smiled again. "I'm so glad you came. Dana's so glad you came."

"I'm glad I came too, Mrs. Scully."

She led him downstairs, where Bill greeted him with a tight, forced little smile that was characteristically Scully and also not quite angry enough to indicate that Scully had told anyone about their 'liaison' last night. Did that mean she was going to deny everything? And if so, would she deny it to him- or just to her family? He decided to keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself, just in case, despite how much he wanted to go up behind her and drop a kiss on her neck and massage her shoulders.

She stood at the kitchen counter, her hands wrapped around a mug of semi- steaming coffee--black with one cream, of course, he thought--her hair drifting loosely about her face and neck and her eyes a creamy gray in the morning light. She turned as she heard his steps, and the smile that lit up her eyes and face told him everything he needed to know. She wasn't denying anything.

She just hadn't told anyone yet.

She reached out a hand towards him, and returning her warm smile, he took the proffered hand and followed its lead. She pulled him up to herself and lifted herself just enough to give him a soft peck on the lips, then turned back to the counter, allowing him to move around behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, dropping the kiss on her neck he'd so wanted to. She smiled again, staring at the countertop.

They glanced up in unison then, and together met the shocked expression of Bill, standing on the other side of the counter. Jaw dropped, eyes wide, he simply stared at them, silently. They both turned their heads and saw Maggie with a rapidly spreading grin on her face, and Tara, Bill's very pregnant wife, sitting at the kitchen table with a similar grin spreading across her own countenance. They turned back to Bill, who continued to stare at them blankly. Mulder felt Scully tense as she tried to hold back a fit of the giggles.

Slowly, Mulder reached out a hand towards Scully's older brother. Bill glanced at it and took it as though in a daze, then remained staring blankly at their clasped hands.

Mulder shook hands with the enemy.

"Hey, bro," he said softly and with immense ironic humor, and that did it. All three females in the room burst out into hysterical laughter. Scully tried desperately to bring it under control behind a pale hand, but failed miserably, while Maggie slapped a knee and fell back to lean against the wall as she shook with unhidden mirth, and Tara bent towards her moving belly and laughed between kicks of protest. Finally Scully let go as well, and simply braced herself against the counter and Mulder's chest as she shook with loud, beautiful laughter.

Bill remained confused, now with a bit of annoyance in his gaze, but finally just gave Mulder another one of those tight little smiles and released his hand. Mulder grinned and squeezed Scully.

Good enough start, he thought happily.


And I don't wanna be without you
And I can't think of anything without you


This time as Scully went to greet the delivery man with a grim smile, her dull fear wasn't so dull. Her heart was pounding in her throat, threatening to bring up what little she had eaten that morning. And once again, the poor confused man could see it, and was shifting his weight from foot to foot as she painstakingly, carefully signed her name to the large blue folder.

She finished and gave him another grave smile, silently wishing him thanks and Merry Christmas and goodbye and all the rest. He smiled and nodded back, and, being careful to try not to show his haste, hurried down the steps and to his car.

Scully took a deep breath and sighed. She knew her tension was near unbearable. She felt it. Her mother had commented on it. Bill had commented on it. Mulder had commented on it and held her until she'd been forced to cry some of it out.

Now it was back in full force.

The paternal tests had come back.

She walked back into the living room, finding all eyes on her, everyone anticipating another shocking moment. But this time, Mulder was there, sitting on the couch, twisted around to look at her with wide, soulful eyes. She caught his gaze and drew the strength he offered from it, then took another deep breath and slid her fingernails under the flap of the envelope.

She pulled out the papers and started to read.


Could this be true
Have I really found you
To stop this box from talking
Well I must eat you


Mulder watched her carefully as she wandered back into the room, her breath held, her back arched slightly inward in her tension. Her face was tilted down a bit, her hair sliding over her cheekbones. He wanted to reach up and run a hand through her hair, kiss her eyelids and let her know she wasn't alone.

Then she looked up at him, and he realized that she already knew.

He watched her closely as she opened the blue envelope, his own neck hard with stressful tension, his arms braced against the back of the couch, ready to leap up and catch her if she lost her knees. He waited while she read.

And then her face went absolutely white.

She looked back up at him, and her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

He felt his own face drain of color.

Oh My God.


Completely covered in blankets
Don't really know what to wish for
Just look at the sky and be thankful


They stared at each other for a long moment before Maggie finally broke the silence.

"Fox? Dana?"

Gradually, Scully tore her eyes from Mulder's and connected with her mother.

"Yeah, mom," Scully answered the silent question.

Maggie covered her mouth with a hand, hiding whatever reaction she may have had.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bill demanded, frowning confusedly.

Both Mulder and Scully looked up at him.

"Mulder's the father, Bill," Scully said quietly.

"Oh, I see," Bill rolled his eyes and plopped down in his armchair. "That would have to be it, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose so," Scully agreed in her whispered voice, her eyes flitting back to Mulder's.

They shone with tears.

Of joy? Of fear? Of sadness?

All of the above.


Maybe my depression
Is all in my head
Maybe my obsession
To feel sorry for myself


"Are you ready?"

Scully's soft voice broke Mulder out of his silent revere, and he looked over at her. She stared at him with wide, luminescent eyes, eyes full of the hopes she had for him and their daughter. He stared back at her with the same eyes, and she slowly nodded.

"Okay," she whispered, and opened her car door, stepping out into the cool morning air.

He followed suit, and they shut their doors in tandem, both jumping slightly at the noise. They smiled nervously at each other, and Scully rounded the car to meet Mulder's side. Silently, she reached up and curled her hand into his, and he squeezed once, gently, before starting to walk.

They walked into the building that way, hand in hand. Even though they were in public. It just didn't matter anymore.

Now they stood at the door, and this time Scully squeezed his hand once, then let go and reached over to open the door. He stopped her hand, and when she turned her head to look up at him, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. He let her go, and she opened the door.

They stepped inside together.

Playing on the floor, in the middle of the empty room, was a tiny little girl, with shining red hair hanging over her face.

"Emily, honey?" Scully called softly, and smiled when her daughter looked up.

Blue eyes. So blue. Scully's eyes. But with some gray mixed in. Mulder's eyes.

He stared at her for a long moment, and Scully looked between him and Emily for that same long moment before finally she opened her mouth, and briefly after, the words spilled from her lips, warm and rich and shaking.

"Mulder, I'd like you to meet Emily. Our daughter."


And my particular situation


The End

"I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you."


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