Title: Expectations
Author: Angela W.
Written: August 2003
Category: Alternative Universe
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They are the property of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
Feedback: If it's nice or contains *constructive* criticism, feedback is valued.
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Two women both suspect they might be pregnant.

Timespan/Spoilers/Explanation: This is part of a series of loosely interwoven AU fanfics I occasionally write (sometimes with help from Audry_Jay, although I did this one myself). Assume that the X-Files were never reopened after they were closed down at the end of season one and that nothing bad that happened to anyone after that point (death, alien abductions, cancer, etc.) ever took place.


Melissa Scully Pendrell wandered down the aisle of the supermarket, trying to convince herself that she had just dropped in to pick up a loaf of bread. She knew what her husband had said: that any test done this early was likely to be inconclusive and that they should wait until next week. Sean had a master's degree in biochemistry, so he certainly knew what he was talking about, but Missy couldn't wait any longer. Her period was several days late and the suspense was driving her crazy.

Just as she reached for the box on the top shelf, Missy's hand collided with another one. The first thing she noticed about the other woman's hand was the large, sparkling diamond on her ring finger.

The ring seemed awfully familiar, though, as dis the British-tinged "Sorry" the other woman murmured, and Missy turned around and found herself looking into the eyes of Yves Harlow. To call Yves a friend probably would have been stretching things; she was more of an acquaintance, a friend of a friend.

"Hello, Yves."

"Missy? I. . .didn't expect to see anyone I knew here. This is miles away from where I usually shop."

"Sean and I live right around the corner," Missy said. "Don't tell anyone that you saw me buying this, though, will you? I'm praying that I'm pregnant."

"And I'm praying that I'm not," Yves replied.

"Here," Missy said, taking one box for herself and handing another to the younger woman. "Let's go get a cup of coffee in the store deli and talk for a bit. I'm a good listener."

"Can I have tea, instead?" Yves asked.

"Of course," Missy said, leading Yves to the counter and placing the order. After they had their drinks and were seated in a secluded corner of the eating area, Missy said gently, "So, I take it this would be an unplanned pregnancy."

"Extremely so," Yves replied. "Our wedding isn't even for another three months."

"Do you and Jimmy want children?"

"Eventually, yes. But I'd hoped to be at least to our first anniversary before we even conceived. I don't want to give birth barely five months after we get married."

"Yves, I don't think too many people are very judgmental about that sort of thing any more. You and Jimmy have been offically engaged since Valentine's Day. So you jumped the gun a little bit on your honeymoon. Maybe you have an easily shocked 80-year-old grandmother you'll have to fudge the truth with, but otherwise who cares?"

"I care. I don't want to have to explain to my firstborn how it is that Mummy and Daddy got married in September and produced him or her in February."

"Yves," Melissa said slowy, "a child is a gift from God. Sean and I have been married for over a year now and I've been hoping. . praying. . .for a baby ever since our honeymoon."

"I had wondered about that," Yves said softly. "You seem so crazy about children, especially your niece, and I know that Dana got pregnant on her honeymoon."

"Don't remind me," Missy said. "So did my mother. It's depressing being the only woman in the entire history of my family who can't get pregnant practically from just *thinking* about sex. But back to your situation: have you told Jimmy what you suspect?"

"Yes, this morning. He was fine with it. Indeed, he seems to be *excited* about the possibility of impending parenthood."

"So you're not considering. . .you wouldn't do anything drastic, would you?"

"Oh, you mean like. . .no, I'd never deliberately end a pregnancy. Even if I believed in that -- which I don't -- I couldn't do that to Jimmy; like I said, he's thrilled by the whole idea. He loves kids."

"Do you mind me asking if you two were using any kind of birth control?"

"I don't mind your asking, but the answer is: yes, of course. We're not stupid. We've been using condoms, but we've had them slip or break a couple of times. I think it's because Jimmy's so big. I know that sounds like I'm bragging on him, but it's just a fact. I mean. . . he's big all over; he's probably not, proportionally speaking, any better-endowed than most men, but everything else -- his height, his weight, his biceps -- about his body is larger than normal, and so that is, too."

"Have you been under an unusual amount of stress lately? Sometimes that can throw off a woman's cycles."

Yves shrugged. "Well, I've been trying to plan the wedding on top of my usual job assignments. So I've been busier than normal, but I wouldn't really call it stressful."

"Will you try to move up the wedding if your test turns out positive?"

"I don't see how we can. The date's set and I've got relatives in England who've already booked flights for then. I'd have to muddle through, hope I'm not too obviously pregnant on my wedding day, and call and share the joyous news when I get back from my honeymoon. I'll survive. It's just that. . . ."

"What, Yves?"

"I suppose it sounds sort of selfish and immature, but I want Jimmy to myself for a while! We don't live together, you know. While we've rather obviously slept with each other on occasion, as I wouldn't need this if we hadn't," she said, gesturing to the boxes on the table between them, "we didn't consummate our relationship until we officially became engaged and that was only a couple of months ago. I was looking forward to the honeymoon and the first few months we were married and living in the same place together."

"That doesn't sound selfish or immature, Yves," Missy assured her. "For all that I envy my sister's almost-instantaneous conception of Emily, and for all that I know she and her husband both adore their daughter, I also know that she sometimes envies the time Sean and I have had with just each other. She and Fox were barely married a month before she found out she was pregnant."

"Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Missy," Yves said softly. "You're right; you are a good listener. I feel better now. I suppose nobody gets a baby exactly when they want one, and whatever happens will be okay. I'm going to pay and head home. I'll call you in a few days, find out what's happening with you and let you know about my situation, but please don't tell anyone; except Sean, if you want. Regardless of whether I'm pregnant or not, I don't want a lot of speculation about my love life, especially from the likes of Frohike."

Missy smiled. "I understand. The same goes for me, too, please. You're the only person other than Sean who knows I even suspect I might be pregnant. Dana and our mother would have fits if they found out a casual acquaintance knew I was expecting before they did."

"Of course," Yves nodded.


When Missy arrived home, her husband was already there. "Hey, gorgeous, where have you been? I got home from work a few minutes ago and there was no note or anything."

"I went to the store. I know you said we should wait, but. . ." she opened the bag and showed him the pregnancy test she'd purchased.

Sean smiled. "Okay, Missy. I know you're anxious. Go ahead and do the test tomorrow. It's just that you could actually *be* pregnant and a test done this early might not show it. Promise me you want be too upset if the test is negative, beacause it might be a false result."

"I promise."

Early the next morning, Pendrell was woken up by an ecstatic Missy. "Look, look, look!" she screamed, waving the plastic stick in front of his face. Pendrell grabbed her wrist to hold it still; the bright blue mark in the center of the stick was clear.

"Yes!" hollered Pendrell. What he felt was not so much joy as overwhelming relief. He'd agreed with Missy that if she wasn't pregnant, they'd seek medical advice from a fertility specialist. He'd known several couples who'd had previously happy marriages driven almost to the brink of divorce by the pressures and pain of infertility. He was glad they'd dodged that bullet. He wanted children, but not with the same intensity she did. What he did want, with the same level of fervor that she wanted to be a mother, was for her to be happy. Although they'd been married for just over a year, and had been engaged for eight months previous to that, he still sometimes felt like he was living in a dream. He'd never been happier in his life than since he became a husband, but he knew that Missy would need to be a mother, as well as a wife, to reach that same plateau.


Jimmy Bond showed up at his fiancee's apartment as soon as he got off work the following afternoon. He had a key, but knocked for formality's sake. Yves opened the door and ushered him in. It was obvious that she'd been crying.

"Yves, honey, it's okay," he said, drawing her into his well-muscled arms. "I know you're a little upset about the baby. . .that the timing's different than what we'd talked about, but,"

"There isn't a baby, Jimmy. I did the test this morning and it was negative. Then my period started this afternoon."

"So why were you crying?"

"Because there isn't a baby."

"Yesterday you were upset because you thought you were pregnant and now you're upset because you're not?"

"Yes. I know it doesn't make any sense, Jimmy! I can't explain it myself. I didn't want to be pregnant, but now that I know I'm not," Yves didn't finish the statement, simply burst into tears again.

"Shh!" Jimmy said, rocking her against him. Finally he sat down and drew her onto his lap.

"Jimmy, I'm sorry. I'm behaving like a ninny."

"It's okay, Yves. I've got a suggestion, though."

"What?"

"I don't think we should make love again until after we're married. I don't want to put you through this again if you happen to be a little off-kilter next month, too."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"I'll live. I got used to cold showers when you were giving me the cold shoulder. You know, that period of almost a year when every time I asked you out you told me I was an idiot?"

"Do you mean?. . .I assumed there were other women who were, um, interested in you."

"There were. But I wasn't interested in them. I wanted you. I can't say that I've been in love with every woman I've ever slept with, but I do have some standards; I wasn't going to have sex with one woman when I was in love with another one."

"Jimmy, I love you. I'm sorry I was so mean to you when we first met."

"Shh! It's okay."


A few days later, Missy and Yves saw each other at a bridal shower for a mutual friend of theirs, Kimberly Johnson. The young woman was marrying her boss, Walter Skinner; who also happened to be Fox Mulder's boss, and had formerly been Dana Scully's boss, too. In fact, it had been during a party which Dana had arranged in hopes of "fixing up" Kimberly with Jimmy that Skinner had decided he wanted to more than a boss to his pretty young secretary and Yves had decided that Jimmy wasn't just a big, dumb annoyance in her life.

While the other guests were busy oohing and aahing -- and occasionally snickering -- at some of Kimberly's gifts, Missy drew Yves aside. "I'm pregnant," Missy whispered. "Dana knows, but I haven't told anyone else here yet. This is Kimberly's party, the focus of attention should be on her. What about you?"

"No," Yves said. "The weird thing is, I know I should feel relieved and in one sense I am, but in a way I'm also kind of disappointed."

"Your time will come," Missy assured the younger woman.

 


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