Title: On Angels from Heaven
Author: Sandee
Written: September 2000
Disclaimer: What? You think they're mine? (In Ross Gellar's voice) They are so *not* mine!
Rating: PG-13? Something like that...
Spoilers: Requiem, En Ami, all things. I know, I know. I'm not supposed to have seen these yet, but my oh-so-kind cousin taped them for me and sent them over... and I'm not the slightest bit guilty!

Summary: A short piece of fluff... Babyfic. Mulder's back, and his child is about to be born.

I hope it's apology enough for not finishing 'Flipping.'


- I resent the expression, and it's mushy emptiness had always made me weak and nauseous. Think about it - love at first sight.

How could any sane person, in all honesty and sincerity, ever say that he loves someone whom he has never met before? For sure, some initial attraction can exist the first time they meet. But how can this attraction be labeled 'love' at all, without the benefit of adventure into the soul, or moods and tempers of the inner mind?

To love someone before knowing him is as absurd as entering a room before opening the door, or swallowing food and then chewing it. The phrase was a hollow and overused cliche. It must have been conjured by some glib philanderer to coat his earthly relationships with sugar, spice and other lies.

It was a paradox, an irony, or better yet, a meaningless set of contradictions Its usage should be frowned upon, and its users should be eyed with much suspicion.

I didn't know her name then, but for one golden moment, she looked at me (at least she seemed to) with her bright and innocent blue eyes... just like her mother's. Pretty dimples kissed either cheek on her face (probably something she inherited from my side of the family. Samantha had the same thing.), which was fair, smooth and radiant. Her turned-up nose slid down gently to crimson lips whose occasional smile reflected an inner peace and tranquility. It was the first time we met, and yet her presence overwhelmed me with a joy and serenity I had never felt before. She was almost an exact replica of Scully. A red, screaming ScullyClone.

My God, I thought. An angel had been sent from heaven.

Her arrival was a tumultuous occasion. Labor started at 2:00 PM on December 10. It seemed easy enough at first, but by early morning the following day, we were discovering aspects of physical and mental torture. The pain begins with beads of sweat, and were followed by tears and trickles of blood, then cries of anguish which stuck fear into the hearts of those who heard.

The trial was long and merciless, and it drew its helpless victim to the brink of emotional extinction. It was hard to accept that death had to be such a cruel ordeal.

But in the midst of the struggle to deliver, and faced with the grim and not-so-distant prospect of losing my partner, I began to realize that this was just the way of life. All transitions in life are marked by the *pain* of separation, and the *joy* of moving on.

I should know.

Like death from this world, childbirth is really a happy occasion. Like death, too, it has to be coupled with unbearable pain.

But, as the saying goes, nothing lasts forever. Not even labor. (Although, I can think of one thing that I hope will) The pain decreased abruptly, the tears of suffering were replaced with those of joy. My daughter was finally born, a normal girl measuring 50 cm and measuring all of 3550 grams. I stared at her bloodied figure incredulously as she gasped, and cried, and struggled, and breathed. She was really alive... and a chill ran down my spine as I realized two things - first that a miracle had happened before my eyes and second that I had forgotten to take pictures of the event.


"Knock, knock," I said playfully, entering her hospital room. She was sitting erect in her bed, holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. As I approached, I realized there was a human in there, somewhere.

I seated myself next to her on the chair. Her mother was there, too, asleep in the armchair in the corner.

"Shh. There are two sleeping people in here," she muttered. I nodded apologetically.

"So this is her?"

"Yep. Healthy, I checked her out. And human."

I don't know what compelled her to add the last part. But then again, maybe I do.

"Okay," I respond. "How is she right now?"

"She's asleep, thank God. She's been nursing for a long time."

"Thank God."

A less than comfortable silence reigns, save the occasional grunt from Mrs. Scully. I sigh. "When are we going to talk about it, Scully?" I ask, a bit sadly.

"Do you want to?"

"I guess."

She looks down at the baby in her arms, then back up at me. I see a slight melancholy in her eyes. "Mulder," she says. "I don't know how thi - she happened."

"You've told me that."

She sighs. "When you were returned three months ago, I was, for the first time in my life, truly happy. And do you know why Mulder?"

"Because you simply couldn't live without me?" I'm only partially kidding.

Ignoring my glib remark, she continues. "I used to think that you wouldn't be able to share this with me - the bloated tummy, the baby showers, the changing of diapers, the sending off to school."

"You thought I'd be gone that long?"

"Mulder, I thought I'd be doing this all by myself. And that made me feel so lonely, despite my family. I couldn't bear to think that you already gave me something I thought I'd never have, and then you wouldn't get to share it with me."

I almost cried at what she was implying. "You mean-"

"They ran a paternity. She's yours." She paused. "Not that I doubted it for a second."

But I had. I had doubted it until fourteen seconds ago, and not because I'd thought Scully'd been unfaithful (There was no doubt that she had been), but because of many things that had happened in the past year. The Smoking Man, for one. Scully'd told me things that I'd care to forget, actually.

She sensed my thoughts and raised an eyebrow. "Thank God."

"There are many reasons to do that right now," I whispered gently, brushing my fingers over my daughter's cheek. Scully smiled and said, "Did you ever think of what we're going to name her?"

In all honesty? Not really. I had been too caught up in whether or not she was even normal to consider what I would name her. I tell her so.

Scully's chuckle is probably the best sound I've ever heard. She looked positively and honestly happy in all her maternal glory. And she was all glowy and light-hearted in a way that I'd never seen before then. She clutched the child closer to her chest. "I see. I guess I'll discuss that with mom, then."

"I really don't care what you name the baby, Scully," I tried to say that in a nonchalant voice. Then, I saw a look of gloominess and decided to add something to make her feel better. "As long as it's not 'Fox' or 'Vixen' or something relating to red, bushy-tailed, woodland creatures."

A smirk made itself known. "Okay." She looked down at the tiny being in front of her. The next words she said were not said to my face. "I sure hope I'm not going to be a... uh... single mother."

Oh, Scully, how could you ever think that? I would never, ever, in my entire life let her do anything like this alone. "I hope so, too." My voice is a bit choked up.

Her eyes still refuse to meet mine, even if I'm staring straight into her face. "So, um, what exactly are we going to do about, um... her... now?"

"Do you want to get married?" I blurt out. Oh no, I thought soberly. Now you've scared her, you big fat moronic ass.

But instead of looking scared, she just chuckled again and finally met the eyes of a very pitiful, very scared, very worried new father.

"You look petrified, you realize," she said glibly.

I grinned madly to try to cover up the fact that I was shivering like I'd pulled her out of a hole in the middle of Arctic ice all over again. "Only because that's what I am."

She took on a thoughtful look for about three minutes, staring at the wall in front of her. "You know what?" she finally said. I brought my attention back to her from the flower vase by her bed, which held some yellow tulips. Oh, I had gotten those for her. Originally, there was a small, smiling baby wrapped in tiny blankets suspended between two stems of the tulips, but I guessed she removed it because the stems would have snapped in two from the weight of the little charm.

"I think it's a great idea."

"You do?"

"Inspired."

"Really?"

"Brilliant."

"Aw, shucks." I flipped my hand like a girl and ducked my head playfully at her, my heart swelling. "You flatter me too much."

"Tsk, tsk. Mulder, it's stuff like that that will lose you a wife."

I immediately straightened up. To my utter surprise, a small tear traveled down her cheek and landed with a quiet pat on the small child's cheek. "I wasn't that horrible," I said.

"Oh, Mulder." She murmured quietly. "You give me everything I ever wanted," she gestured towards the unnamed baby in her arms. "...and I think I can say you feel the same way I feel."

I had to nod at that.

"You saved me, celebrated for me and mourned for me. You've given me this, given me back my life and done so much more. You even hired a poorboy to fire balls at me.

"So how can you think I'd ever, ever leave you?" she sounded a bit exasperated, like she was sick and tired of telling me something over and over.

I dipped my head, a bit embarrassed for doubting her. "It just seems to unbelievable sometimes, Scully," I said, shaking my head a little. "I can't seem to believe that all this has happened. First, there's you having a little baby, which in itself is truly inconceivable, no pun intended. Then it turns out it's my baby... which is absolutely the most beautiful that could ever happen to me." I broke into a chuckle and looked up at Scully. She looked quite choked up.

"Second, of course, to finding out that you think it's just as good an idea to spend the rest of our living days together."

Her sad, wet blue eyes meet mine and I see something nameless there, too deep to be true. But it is.

"Fox Mulder..." she says, another tear slipping out of her eye. With her free hand, she hastily wipes it away, jostling the little baby a little. The baby whimpers a bit, then goes back to sleep. "Fox Mulder refusing to believe something extraordinary? Must be an X-File."

We remained silent for a couple of minutes. She didn't seem to want to say anything. That was fine. Now, we've been quiet for approximately four minutes and eighteen seconds. I notice her staring at the child in her arms, as if she was expecting it to disappear any minute.

A thought strikes me.

"Can I hold her?" I ask, worried she might refuse. "Please? I just want to know what it'll be like."

She doesn't hesitate in the slightest. Carefully, she lowers the bundle into my arms and positions my hands correctly so that the baby doesn't feel uncomfortable and so that I don't drop her.

It's a wonderful feeling, carrying a child, I realize. It's light and easy and it just takes away all the pains you feel. I look into my...my...my daughter's bright blue eyes and saw myself reflected in them. Something I have always felt whenever I was about Scully.

"Angel..." I murmur. "Angela. Angelica. Something like that. Let's call her Angel."

I feel rather than see Scully's nod.

I think I've come upon a realization. Love at first sight isn't petty, silly or stupid. Instead, it is a commitment. A commitment made by all people the moment they are born. A commitment to every angel sent down to earth from above.

I look up at Scully, eyes as watery as hers.

"Angel."

*end*

 


End Notes: Oh. Hey. I didn't know these were so interesting. This is some babyfic inspired by something my dad wrote for me when I was born. Love ya forever, daddy. I'd like to say Thank You to my Guy, Chekka, Bill Weasley, Manang Roseng and Thalassa for the beta, to Hanny-Bunny for the comments, to Nicki for cooking me those instant meals and to Andrea... Maurizia Cacciatori rules!

And to my guy: Bakit labis kitang mahal?

Visit my site: http://www.geocities.com/surefinewhatever00/ (those are zeroes, not O's!!)


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