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Title: Without Fear Notes: First of all, I'm not English, and I took my last English class four years ago, so any kind of mistakes with the spelling... Blame my evil teachers... I know Gunmen can't do what they are going to do with the computer, but... Hey, if CC can kill people and bring them back to life, I can use artistic license too! And there's a sentence from Babylon5, a candy to the first one to find it... Oh, and I won't be getting eight season until I have grandchildren... Be good with me and entertain me with feedback!!! PLeeze? On with it... Mulder was back almost a month ago. God, I feel weird, being able to say it. He came the same way he had left: without an explanation, he just did. He was in a better shape than I was when I was found. Maybe since he was kept from longer, they have decided to not to torture him as much. Ha-ha. How ironic. The first thing we did was to check him with a weird device that Frohike had, to discard the presence of any chips... The Gunmen claim the fatherhood of the invention, but I'm sure as hell that right now, in some airport, someone is looking for a metal detector which is missing. Anyway, we didn't find anything strange. Neither with the metal detector, nor with any of the tests, with the exception of a slight weight loss not too alarming, some scars, and an excessive growth of hair and beard. Those last two are not pathologic, but I considered that they had to be fixed too, because the wild looks they were giving to him was restraining me from concentrating in more important things at hand. He was out of the hospital about two weeks ago, which was more or less the maximum time we managed to restrain him there before he threatened with starting taking hostages if he wasn't let out soon. I became some kind of private nurse who visited him everyday, and I managed to keep him out of the office until two days ago. A new record, being Mulder. I had chatted to him about my new partner, so their first meeting was not as tense as expected, although when Mulder entered the office and found Doggett about to open one of his drawers, I had the distinct feeling he was going to bit his head off. But he finally showed he had got over the Homo Neanderthalis' epoch, and as the good Homo Sapiens he is, he shook his hand. I sighed, relieved, and we all managed to work in relative calm. So things ain't going bad. In fact, I can remember other time when I have been this happy. But for one thing: I still have to tell him. You know... Oh... Did I forget to mention I had a child? Oops. Michael. He's three months old and he's sleeping in his cradle right now. No. His name's not Fox, neither William. And, of course, it's not Samantha. Not even Melvin, as Frohike insisted. What a surprise, uh? I can be original when I plan on it. Here you are, how spontaneous I can get. And they say I had a repressive education... But let's get to the point. I haven't told him, mainly because I haven't found the time. When Mulder was found, I left Mike with my mum, and she was the one to take care of him while I spent the nights at the hospital, missing him, and happy at the same time to be with Mulder. Every now and then I went to my mum's house, but I couldn't say: "Well, Mulder, I'm going to visit my son, I'll be back in a while, ok?" I would probably provoked a comatose state like the one they found me in. I could have told him more delicately, true... We talked a lot... Our way. I mean, in my first visit, I just hug him and spent the rest of the evening just looking at him, because he was still unconscious, so I allowed myself that luxury I never have the access to. And when he regained consciousness, we only talked about what he was able to remember, and about what I had been doing. Safe conversations. As usual. When he went home, I went to visit him, and several times I managed to start what I supposed to be a confession... Something like: "I have seen a woman with two children today in the park..." But I stopped right there, and I think I only managed to make him think that I had become addicted to glue. So I stopped trying. Which really seems miraculous is that he hasn't found out by himself... Because I had threatened the Gunmen and Skinner with death, but not the whole FBI... Well, he has only been back to work for two days, and risks are rising... That's why I have invited him over today, because I don't want to have to pursue him forever in order to avoid he talks to anyone (I think he would be suspicious at last...) and, mainly, because he might go into shock when, in twenty years, I invite him to my son's wedding. Surprise, surprise, Mulder! Oh, well, and then there's the fact that I don't want Michael to end up saying Mum to Langly and Dad to Byers. Yes, my mum and them have been babysitting. Terrifying, right? I bet by now, they have taught him to say "pentagon," and not because of the geometric form. And that leaves me right here, right now, in my living room, waiting for my partner, and without knowing the way to tell him that I have a child and I don't even know who's the father. Because I don't have a clue. Yes, ladies and gentlemen: Dana Katherine Scully, searcher for the Truth (with caps and neon lights) is afraid of taking the necessary tests to find out her son's parentage. Ta-da! There's an obvious explanation: I haven't had sex with anyone, so whoever it is, I'm afraid to know it. And I'm more scared to be in front of another Emily case, although this time, all the medical tests I've gone through with mike seem correct. So I don't know who the father is. You can imagine how my mum loves that idea, of course. But let's go back to the matter at hand, because Mulder must be about to arrive. Let's see... "Mulder, would you mind going to my bedroom and bringing me two socks and my son?" A bit harsh. "Look, Mulder! A cradle! Guess what's it for?" Urm... I don't think so... "Oh my God! There's a child sleeping in my bedroom! Where did it come from??" Yeah, right. Oh, my, he's knocking on my door. Alea jacta est. Translation: I want to die. "That I don't believe in miracles doesn't mean they don't come true." It's like being back at home. It's true, I have been at home for a month now. I know. But it's only when I knock at Scully's door that I really feel I'm back. Not even returning to the basement made me feel this way. How absurd, uh? I have always liked her house, but now I have realized that I want to live here. Hey, Scully, wanna exchange the keys? Nah, because that's not the idea. What I really like of Scully's house is that it is *Scully's* house. It wouldn't make sense at all to change that. I'm babbling, I know. I do that a lot lately. Since I was back I have found it that it's worth to waste the time thinking about banal and senseless stuff, instead of spending all my time meditating about things as deep as The Truth, Conspiracy and Them. I can't remember a thing of what happened to me in this last year, but I don't care. Really. I'm just happy to be back. What kind of investigator am I, you must be wondering, right? All his life looking for answers, and when he finally gets them, he doesn't remember, and he doesn't want to remember. Well, yes. I'll have time to remember about everything, but by now I just want to make up for the missing time. How cute. Aliens have turned me into a poet. I should have asked a band of mariachis to put music to my thoughts. Now I value things, different things. I'm going to buy a present for the Gunmen, I owe them a lot. A life-long subscription to Playboy, probably. I promise to be kinder with my neighbors. No gun shots after nine. And no more basketball at home. And that Doggett guy... Well, I promise to not to get his testicles out through his mouth in a near future. I think I'm being very considerate. Oh, and Scully. I'm going to tell her how I feel. She'll probably tell me something along the lines of "Oh, brother," but I don't care anymore. She has the right to know, and I have the right to free myself from that burden. Besides, I have the feeling that our relationship is heading somewhere. I know, I know it's not fast forward, but... As the song said: Scully, get ready, 'cause here I come. Or: Jesus H Christ, I'm trembling and I won't even be able to knock. Breathe. In. Out. Okay. My brain is capable of sending simple orders to my breathing muscles. Let's see if we can coordinate the hand-wrist articulation and knock to the door. Knock, knock. Bravo! "Hey, Mulder. Come in." And I go in. And I sit down. And I twist my hands while she asks me if I want something to drink. I tell her no, and just as I'm going to start talking, she sits down in front of me and says: "Mulder, we have to talk." That's the scariest comment ever. It's the perfect prelude for apocalyptic sentences like "I have asked to be transferred to Quantico." But since I keep silent, she goes on with something different. "A lot has happened in this past few months..." Please, don't let this continue with a "I have got married secretly to Doggett" or "I have got in touch with my masculine side, I'm going to change my sex, and from now on you must call me Albert." "Stuff you don't know about..." she goes on. "Scully, it's no big deal if you have used my desk." I try to light the mood, and I manage to make her smile. I'm satisfied. "No, you'll see... Just before I knew you had been...abducted..." Why is it so difficult to her to say it? "I told you I had been to the hospital, right? Well, I had some tests done and..." My stomach appears in my mouth and I can't breathe. Not again. Scully must have sensed my panic face, and shakes her head forcefully. "No! It's nothing bad. Not at all..." Now I'm genuinely confused, and she's not helping me. "This is not working, wait..." And she gets up and enters her room. And she emerges from there smiling and with a... baby? "Mulder, this is Mike Scully." I look at him astounded, and I can't remember Tara being pregnant. "My son." she adds. Son: from the latin 'filius'. Person or animal from their father or mother, Anything which comes from another by procreation. Descendant. Procreation?!?! I need to sit down. Or lay down. I'm getting dizzy. "H-h-how...?" Okay, Mulder. You have an education. Even polite doctors make it. Yeah. Right. But Scully was sterile. Sterility: disease characterized by the inability to fecund by the male and to conceive by the female. Sterility+Scully= Scully no son. Right? Ok, this is starting to sound like the Beakman's World. Time to act like an adult. "B-but Scully... you... you can't... How?" First approximation to adult world failed. Try again later. "I don't know, Mulder. I was as surprised as you were, but it has happened. His name is Michael, and he's genetically normal and healthy." And she looks all happy. There you go. As if nothing happened. "W-who is the father?" I'm very scared. "I don't know." I don't know? What kind of answer is that? Does that mean she has gone to bed with so many guys she can't even remember their names? How could I not notice? I guess my missing Romantic Declaration To Scully has just been aborted. I look at her, and I can see she's more scared than I am, and I suddenly get it. Emily. We have never needed words to communicate, and I'm relieved about it, now more than ever. I nod and she does the same. "But you want to know it, don't you?" "Yes. I can't go on like this forever." "I'll call the guys." "I have already done it." I smile and go to her. "He's beautiful." "I know. Do you want to hold him?" "No." I'm honest, although her face shows deception. I explain myself: "I guess you want him to become an adolescent without any important craneo-encephalic traumatism, uh?" "Don't be silly, Mulder. It's not that difficult." she says as she smiles again and puts the tiniest being I have ever seen in my arms. "Hold his head." "Why? Does it tend to fall?" Scully laughs at my sudden neurosis, and I establish visual contact with a very blue pair of eyes which look at me with curiosity. I think I have just fallen in love. Insert mariachis music here, please. I caress his nose with the tip of my finger and he smiles. As a psychologist I know it's still too soon for that to be a social smile, and therefore a conscious gesture, but at this moment I think he has just smiled to me. And I love it. And now he's crying to me. "Lovely, Scully. I have managed to make him cry in tow minutes. I'm improving." Scully holds him and takes him to the sofa. "He's probably hungry, Mulder." Ans she starts unbuttoning her shirt. I don't want to see this. I mean, I DO want to see this, but I'm not going to. I need air. I have a lot to think about. And this is not going to help me. Not at all. So I say goodbye. "Scully, I'll pick you up tomorrow, ok? I'm going home, I still need to rest." "Fine." she answers, paying more attention to where Michael should put his tiny mouth than to me. When I'm about to close the door, she calls me again and I turn to look at her. "Mulder, this can't be bad. I have had a lot of time to think about it, and you'll need it too, but it's good." I hope so, Scully. I hope so. I nod and start heading for the door again while I make sure my photographic memory has recorded what has probably been one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen in my life. "Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse?" Damn, it's cold in here. Since Frohike opened the door ten minutes ago, my corporal temperature must have descended like ten degrees. I grab Mike and hold him close while I hear Langly screaming to the phone. "No, you don't understand! When I told you that the heater didn't work and it was cold, I didn't mean 'Oh, it's chilly here', but more like 'Oh, look! My lefts arm has frozen as a icicle, has fallen, and has broken against the floor!" I can't help smiling. they are so paranoid and a genius, but they just can't help looking for help for the smallest problems. "Let me see if I have understood properly: You want me to find the kid's father... looking between all the men in the world?!" "No, I'll give you some possible names, and you'll just have to check those, at least for now." And so I do, while I let Mulder with Langly and Mike in the farther corner of the room. I wouldn't like he heard that one of the possible names is the Smoker... That idea makes me shiver. Although maybe he would feel relieved I haven't said Skinner... Yet. Byers almost faints when I include Mulder in the list, and looks at me intrigued. "It's not what you are thinking, but we gotta be sure." He nods and I let them work, replacing Langly and joining Mulder and Mike. "How're you doing?" "Pretty good, right pal? I'm giving him some tips to get girls." "Mike, ignore him. Look how useful they have been to him." "Ouch. Scully, that really hurt." We smile. Things are looking more like old times. Mike's babbling, however, brings us back to reality. "I must have been hard." I know what he's talking about. "Yes. But those three weirdos and Skinner were always there." "Scarecrow, Toto, the Coward Lion and good old Skinman. Who was to tell. Although I won't forgive them for not having told me." "They couldn't, Mulder. It was way too soon." "I know" he nods. "But now I have all the information I need. Don't start telling funny stories about morning sickness or placentas falling to the floor, ok? I know how women are with that." Byers interrupts my retort. "Guy, we got it." We go to them, a bunch of nerves. "So?" They look at each other and smile. Frohike shakes Mulder's hand. "Congratulations." And Mulder turns blue. Or white. Or any color. And I'm happy. I don't know how he's going to take this, and I don't know how the hell has happened, but it's the best news they could ever give me. I can't help smiling. "Are you sure?" "We have checked it three times." I finally risk a glance at Mulder, who keeps staring at the computer. I can't read his expression and I start panicking. It took me a while to accept maternity, what am I expecting from Mulder? But, once again, he surprises me. He looks at me and smiles slightly. "What do you think?" I can't believe he's asking me if I agree with this. "Great." That's all I can say. He grabs Mike's little hand, and grins broadly. "It's great to me too, then." And it's enough. We'll have plenty of time to find the buts and whys. Right now I only want to enjoy this. "And how long have you been... wel..." "We 'haven't been', Frohike." Mulder answers, while he keeps looking at the baby. "Then?" "I don't know. But Michael is ok, and that's what matters." And that's true. "Heaven's not beyond the clouds, it's just beyond the fear." Scully and I have become some kind of weird couple. I still have my house and all, but I spend a lot of time in hers, and I spend all the time I can with Mike. It's not something we have agreed about, it just happened. We told her mum that I was the father, and she seemed happy. Skinner didn't seem surprised, and I can't understand why. He lives and lets us live, and I'm thankful for it. And Bill has managed to look at me without emitting any kind of guttural sound, and I can't ask for more. Maggie looks after Mike while Scully and I are at work, and then we pick him up and spend the evening with him. A perfect family picture if it wasn't because I go home to sleep. It like third degree: I go back to sleep to jail. But I don't care. I'm very happy. Seriously. It's like living in Candyland. Or something like that. We have tried over and over to analyze why anyone would want us to have a child, but found no reason. And do you want to know the truth? We don't care. After a few days of anguish and fear, we decided that the best for all was waiting until the problems arrived, and they haven't arrived yet. Maybe they will never come. We keep looking, but we have other... priorities. The only thing that could improve my situation would be a more intimate relationship with Scully. And I think that bit by bit, I'm close to that too. Right now I'm in the sofa in Scully's living room, looking at Mike while he plays. Next week he'll be 6 months old, and I think he's growing up too fast. "Scully, next time we should move the playground to my living room. I could show him my fishes." "No, Mulder. I think it's still too soon for him to have his first contact with floating dead bodies." Scully screams from her room. "Hey, Mike." the kid looks at me. "Don't take her seriously. My fishes have learnt to feed themselves." Yeah, right... From their friend's fossilized remains... "Mulder, can you do me a favor?" Scully has emerged from her room inside a dress I had never seen before... Maybe I should accelerate our relationship's evolution... Take the next step tonight... Right now... NOW. "Uuh... Yeah, of course." "Can you look after Mike tonight? I'm going out, but I don't think I'll be out too long." "No problem. Are you having dinner with your mum?" "No... I'm going out with some friend Bill and Tara have been trying to set me with for months." Ding-ding-ding. Red alert. Male must protect female if other male menace. "You have a date?" I say, with my best sarcastic tone. But I think it's obvious I'm annoyed. "We're only going to have dinner. So that Bill lets me alone." Mental note: Sen Billy circuit as a Christmas present. "I see... And you think it's appropriated?" Seeing her face, I can say it has been the wrong comment. I know I'm overreacting, but I'm on a riot. "What do you mean? That because I have Mike I shouldn't have a life?" "Well, you haven't had a life in seven years, so why start having one now?" Man, when I want to I know how to fuck it. "Mulder, it's not your business who I go out with." "Yes, but what if that guy enters Mike's life and he's from the Ku Klux Kan, and our child ends up with a white hat burning people around?" I highlight the word 'our' to underline that I have a say on this too. "Mulder, for God's sake, I'm only going to have dinner..." "Okay, do whatever you want." "Fine!" "Fine!" And she goes out, slamming the door. And I get up and kick the sofa. What the hell has just happened? I know I had no right to say what I said, but... Well, it has been several months of spending a lot of time together. Of taking care of Mike. Our son, Dammit. I'm sure there's some kind of not written law which says that if you share so much with someone, even if it's not your actual couple, you must wait for him until he decides to do anything about it. I'm a jerk for having waited so long. "Mike, your dad's stupid, you know?" Michael nods. Wonderful, he learns more and more. "What about a good dinner for you and a bit of chloroform for me?" he just stares at me. "I promise I will apologize to her later, okay?" This time he makes a sound that I think is a yes, so I take him in my arms and head the kitchen. What the hell...? Shit. "Michael, where have you got this paint?" He laughs. How cute. Dude, we have a date with the shower. And my shirt with the trash can, I'm afraid. "It's my life, it's now or never, ain't gonna live forever." I couldn't stand it anymore. Bastard. I mean, how many times can you repeat the sentence "collaterally" in the same night? And then there's the fact that he hasn't stopped scratching his head. Maybe he should have let his louses at home... I won't ever go out again. Not with a friend of my brother's, anyway. Mulder hasn't got to know. Are you going to have dinner with your mum? What does he think I am? A nun? Furthermore, I wouldn't have to go out with anyone if I was with him. But he doesn't know, of course. And that's why he acts like a jerk. Now that's new. I hope he's not there when I arrive home, because I don't want to argue anymore. No. Wait. I HOPE he's still there, because if he has left Mike alone... Ok. No more fighting today. My dinner has been a disaster, not Ku Klux Kan, but close. And Mulder stepped over the line before I left. Closed topic. I go inside my house and I can't see Mulder to Mike. I walk in front of the sofa and am stunned at the sight. They must have taken a shower or something like that, because they both have wet hair. Mulder is shirtless, and he was Mike over his chest. They are both sleeping. And I wonder... Is it sane that I want to cry and to sexually abuse my partner at the same time? Probably not, but who cares... I can't be mad at him. Seriously, it's almost impossible for me, and it's not only because right now he looks so... No. It's not because of that. Well, it's not the ONLY reason, although ... He's great with Mike, and the kid adores him. Okay, he hasn't changed his diapers more than 4 or 5 times, but who cares? The first days I was not sure about how this was going to work out, because after all, the only time Mulder and I had shared outside office time has been to fill reports and see some movies... Or playing baseball. Besides, I knew Mulder has having nightmares and was starting to remember things, although he didn't tell me about them. I think that's why he sleeps in his house everyday. Anyway, I can't remember seeing him so happy. What surprised me the most was that he didn't try any kind of suicide action to find out where Mike came from. Wrong words choice. We all know where he came from. What we don't know is how he appeared there. I guess my little trip with CSM has something to do with it, but I haven't mentioned the fact to Mulder. Maybe he really loved us and wanted to give us a little present before he dies. Sure. Fine. Whatever. I really think we'll never find out why or who, but if things are always like this, I don't mind. I'll keep looking. I cover Mulder and Mike with a blanket and sit in the opposite corner of the sofa to look at them and I feel sleepy... ... ... ... My neck hurts. What's that noise? Pardon: noises. Plural. Let's see, I'm a medical doctor, I must be able to know about morning noises... One of them is Michael laughing... The other one is... the TV... with a baseball game... And the third one is my partner trying to explain the game's rules to my six months old son. Time to open the eyes. I see Mulder, sat down, with the blanked over his shoulders and speaking to Mike's ear, who is on his knees. I like how they look in my living room in the mornings. It seems... correct. Have I mentioned that Mulder's been working out since he was back and that his chest is kinda... Stop. "You see? That was a home run." "Mulder, don't you think he's still too young for that?" "Wow, Mike, look who has decided to join us in the conscious world... No, I don't think it's too soon. Besides, I have huge plans for him, he better start learning." "Your plans for his future include baseball? I don't know if I should let you see him again..:" I try to hide the satisfaction the sole idea of Mulder making plans for Mike's future makes me feel... "Very funny. The only alternative was Teletubbies, and I wont' let him see that." "Why? Children learn a lot with them." "Scully, purple Teletubbie has a purse. Besides, any kind of fat character saying over and over things like "Tubbitoast" can't be good for anyone's mental health, and even less to Mike's immature brain." "You feel menaced by the Teletubbies, Mulder?" "I'm trying to educate him selectively, if you don't mind. Just sports, economy reports and some documentaries." "Documentaries as in 'The most beautiful women in the world calendar was made like this' documentaries?" "You hurt me, Scully..." We smile as Mike make unintelligible sound while he grabs Mulder's hair, who takes his hand carefully. "Scully, about last night... I guess I has no right." That's his way to say I'm sorry. So I accept his apologies nodding. "Don't worry. It was a complete disaster. He wasn't wearing a white hat, but close." "I warned you. See, Mike? Write down who's always right here." I hit his shoulder and I head the kitchen, while an idea pops into my head. I have been thinking about it for a while, so I'm going to get it out before my mind gets up and I start doubting again. "Mulder, why don't you move in here?" He has stopped breathing, I'm sure. I turn around and look at him, and he does the same with wide eyes. At least he's not cyanotic yet. "It's just that... You spend a lot of time here anyway, more than in your apartment, so I guess it's silly for you to leave every night and... you'd only have to bring some of your stuff here... and sleep on the sofa... And you're used to that... And..." I'm babbling, and he thinks it's funny. Bastard. "Agent Scully, are you coming on to me?" "Look, Mulder, if you don't want to, just--" "I'd love to," he interrupts me. "Really?" "Yeah." "Good." I can't believe it has been that easy. I continue my way to the kitchen, feeling better and even a bit dizzy. He looked so calm... Or that is what I think until I hear a happy yell coming from my living room and the noise of the remote control crashing against the floor. "Mulder?" "It's.. It's okay. Mike didn't like baseball and threw the remote away." Right. I grin and make breakfast. "Take me down under the wishing tree, lay your healing hands on me." I'm heading home. How great it sounds. I'm gonna repeat it. I'm heading h-o-m-e. Because two month ago, the word "home" started defining the common place where Scully, Mike and I live. Who was going to say? When Scully suggested it, I couldn't believe it. Although it seemed logical, didn't it? The Gunmen say I am a traitor them, that I've not balls, and he just can't believe I'm still sleeping on the sofa. Anyway, they come over every now and then, and they take care of Mike along with Mrs. Scully. For God's shake, even Bill and Tara came over to dinner once and we managed to finish the night with killing each other. If I need money someday, I'll write a book with those characters. I bet you are wondering how on hearth I am still sleeping on the sofa, uh? It's better, because if Mike cries at night, I can pick him up... You don't believe it, do you? I know, I know... Hey, we have been 8 years until we have moved in together, give me a break! I had a traumatic childhood, I need time to process changes. But we're close. Really. I swear. Many night, when Mike's sleeping, Scully comes to the living room and joins my company in my endless TV marathons. And we talk. About many more things than before. Besides, she has left a couple of drawers free for my stuff. Who said our relationship wasn't improving? I enter home, put my coat out and go to the bathroom, where I guess my two favorite persons are. I have bought Mike a pony which makes noises. I have found out I have some kind of fixation with stuffed animals which make noises, and since I starting buying them for my son, I have turned Scully's house into a macabre zoo, because since Mike's teeth are growing, he bites everything, and his room is full of decapitated corpses, bellowing and clinching and whining. I can't explain he's not traumatized yet. I open the bathroom's door and find Scully's back, knelt in front of the bath, and trying to make Mike understand that the idea is that the water is kept inside the bath, and not everywhere around it. But from the soaked look of my partner, I can say she's not being successful about it. Michael sees me and points at me with a big two teethed grin. I live for that. Scully turns around and smiles too while I knee beside her. "Scully, if you wanted a bath, shouldn't you have ENTERED the bath?" "Mulder, don't test your luck. You finish with him, funny boy. I'm going to get changed" she says as she gets up. And just then, Michael decides the time to make his first significant sound has arrived. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaade." It was that, or a "Deee-deeeee" or even a "dude..." I don't care, because he has said it while he was looking at me, and I think my eyes are going to pop out of their cavities. I turn to Scully, who has a similar expression. "Have... have you heard it?" "Oh, yeah..." "... And...?" And? She can really still doubt I like this, can she? "Well, all I can say is that the kid is clever," I say while I grin my best grin as I get up. Scully hugs me, surprising me. A good surprise, of course, but surprise nonetheless. The moment doesn't last too long, however, because good old Mike starts splashing water while he repeats his new favorite sound: "Daaaaaaaaaaaaa-daaaaaaaaa-daaaaaaaaa-deeeeeeeeeeeee-dee-daaaaaaa-deeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!" Scully and I (as soaked as her right now) separated slightly, laughing. "Well, I'm afraid that when he's saying that, he's not talking about me." "hey, you don't now. Besides, someday, he'll say it to you for real." That's true, isn't it? It's ridiculous an adult man is so thrilled about something like this. I have a driving license, I can shoot people, and here I am, drooling around. How sad. And all I want right now is nearing Scully more and more, because she's still looking at me with that look... And so I do until... She breaks the hug and looks at the floor. "I'm going to ... change." She storms out the bathroom without looking at me. What have I done? Do you remember about me thinking our relationship was looking up? Well, oh surprise, it looks I was wrong. Or at least, it looks only my part of the relationship was looking up. And now I feel ridiculous and hurt in equal parts. But the general feeling of desolation covers everything. Whoa, I have managed to feel all that in two minutes, new record. I lean against the wall and hit my head against it. After a few seconds, I remember that I can't kill myself like that, pick Michael up and dry him with a towel. He looks so happy. He doesn't know that his father has just made the most ridiculous thing in his life, and he doesn't know I have just received a blow, and I don't think I'll ever be the same. But mostly, he doesn't know I'm about to make a decision that affects him too. He's so small, inside that towel... I hug him fiercely and he laughs, funny. I dress him up, taking my time, and take him to his cradle. He doesn't like the idea and starts protesting, but I caress him until he falls asleep. I take my bag and start packing my stuff. Scully's sitting on the sofa, and looks at me when I enter the living room. Her eyes are fixated in my bag. "Scully, I'm going home... Maybe this hasn't been a good idea after all... I don't know. I think it's still too soon." "Mulder, where is this coming from?" "I need time. And space." "But..." she seemed genuinely confused. "If it's because of the bathroom, I ..." "No, no. It's... everything. I think none of us has had the time to process this. Everything happened suddenly and... I think we should be apart for a while." Of course it's "because of the bathroom." And we have had plenty of time to process the changes. Shit, everything was okay until I have the great idea of going to the next level. Game Over. And now I don't think I could live here with her, knowing she doesn't feel the same. Not knowing was okay. Knowing is not. Scully looks at me and said nothing. I know she's hurt, but right now I'm not the person to console her. So I just put her keys on the table and leave the house slowly, because my feet are so heavy... "I don't wanna miss a thing." It's been three days since I heard from Mulder. It's like old times: he leaves and laves me worried. But this time, it's my fault. I don't care what he said when he left, I know it was because of what I have come to name as "The bathroom incident". Clause: someday, someone will explain to me why my life must turn around places as uncomfortable as hallways or bathrooms. I go on: I don't know why I did it. Break the kiss. Or the wannabe-kiss. Whatever. I mean, it was obvious what was going to happen, wasn't it? And I wanted it to happen. Long time ago. And I guess I have suspected he wanted it to for a while. Perfect, you'd say. Hell, yes. But for a little detail: I chickened out. Why was I afraid? no idea. I have been thinking about it this few days, and I don't have a real conclusion. I guess, to be honest, that I have been waiting for so long that I was afraid at the last moment o be disappointed if it was not as good as I had imagined. What? It's true. Michael misses him. He hasn't told me, obviously, but I can sense it. And I miss him a lot too. I have tried to phone him, but he's not answering his phone. Ad he hasn't gone to work today. He phoned to tell he wasn't feeling ok. For the first time in eight years, Fox William Mulder has skipped work voluntarily. I bet Skinner is still trying to assimilate the news. So when I have gone out of the office I have picked Mike up from my mum's and here were: in front of Mulder's apartment. I have decided I want to live without fear. And with Mulder. I knock at the door, and no one answers, as I expected. "Mulder, it's me. Open the door." "Scully, I'm not feeling fine, it's better you go home." his voice sounds flat, but not ill at all. "I'm going in." I held Mike with my other arm and use my key. The apartment is as dark as usual, and Mulder is, as usual, laying on his couch. "Hey-" "Hi. What do you want?" Whoa. Right to the point, uh Mulder? However, I don't think he wants us to leave this soon, because as soon as he sees the little person I'm carrying, he gets up and holds him. The kid laughs, thrilled. "I was worried. You didn't go to work today." "No. I told you I wasn't feeling well." "Mulder, cut the carp." I can go to the heart of the matter too. He sighs and nods at me to sit down. I wait for him to start talking. He takes his time. "It's just that... Well, you know what happened in your house. It's obvious we see our relationship differently, so I think it's better for us if things go back... as they used to be. That's why I was trying to..," he speaks very fast, and I know he's nervous. He's not even looking at me. Hell, how did we end up like this? "And you are not going back?" "To work, I guess I will. We have always managed to separate it from personal life. But just because of that, I won't go back to your house. Because the line between office and our private life, if you can consider I have one, is getting blurrier, and being with you in your house is not going to help at all." It seems you have given this a lot of thought, uh G-Man? Too bad. I have too. "And Mike?" "Uuh... I... I hope you let me see him every now and then. Weekends or... Well, as if we had divorced..," he snorts and laughs bitterly. "Mulder, do you really think you are going to manage seeing him only over the weekends? You haven't stopped hugging him since we arrived, and it has only been three days since you haven't seen him." He looks embarrassed now, and very depressed. Okay, let's end this farce. "Besides, who says we don't see our relationship the same way?" And now he's confused. I should have brought a camera, because he's showing all the possible human expressions. "W-Well... in the bathroom... When I tried..." "Right. " I interrupt him. "I owe you an apology. I was scared." "Scared? Of me?" "No, of the situation... I wasn't expecting it. But.. Know I have had time to think about it and..." I have never been good with words about my feelings. Let's get some action, darn. I grab his neck with a hand and kiss him. Hard. Fantasy number 176 fulfilled. What's that noise? It's like a... Baby protesting. Poor Mike. We part, look at our son and laugh. That's better. Then we look at each other again, and I know everything's gonna be okay. We'll have to take his fish tank to my house. The End Email is good. Email is good. Email is good. Email is good.
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