Title: Miracle
Author: Ana H
Written: August 200
Disclaimer: All characters and situations referred to outside of this story belong to Chris Carter and Fox productions. I am simply borrowing the characters for use in this work of fiction.
Rating: PG-ish... maybe PG-13
Classification: MSR... finis shipper style!

Another day alone. That was all that entered my mind as I woke up early one January morning. I looked out the window; complete darkness. A street lamp illuminated a spot on the street, just enough to show that it was snowing. Again.

It hadn't been the happy, fluffy sort of snow. It wasn't even snow-man material. It was just wet, heavy, and depressing.

I lay in the soft nest of comforter and body heat that I had created while sleeping. I looked at the red-numbered digital clock radio on my nightstand; 5 AM. Maybe I could call in sick. Groaning, I knew that I couldn't, and I threw back the covers before I had a moment to hesitate. The warmth of the bed was replaced with the biting cold of my apartment, and I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. What a way to wake up.

My hand fell instinctively to my stomach, and I let it rest there momentarily. I still couldn't believe that I was carrying a baby. Mulder's baby. Our baby. Would she look like him? With dark, expressive eyes...and thick brown hair? I pictured his face, and almost cried as I did. The deepest feeling of loss I'd ever experienced ran through my body, causing me to shiver.

I covered my arms with my hands, wishing I hadn't thrown back the comforter. I got up off the bed, picking up the silk robe that I'd thrown across the chair next to it. I pulled it close around me, and padded sleepily through the dark apartment. It surprised me; how groggy I remained, even after waking up to such a quick change in temperature. I suddenly wondered if that had been good for our baby.

Our baby. By now, I should be calling her my baby. Her father was gone, and the search for him had become less frantic as the weeks passed. I had begun to believe that I might be the only one left who truly thought that Mulder would come back. But I believed in him throughout. Whenever I needed him, he'd always been there for me. Even if he came at the very last moment, he was always there. Saving me, holding me, yelling at me, whatever the case. I knew he would be by my side when I needed him the most.

It was hard to think this way on a cold January morning. I turned on the light in the kitchen; and moved to the living room. Turning on some various lights around the couch, I felt slightly better. It made the apartment look (if not feel) warmer.

I turned on the coffee maker, and put some toast in the toaster. I poured some juice, and turned the stove on to make eggs. I took some fruit out of the refrigerator.

Even if it was only for myself, I began to get in the habit of eating complete and healthy breakfasts. Banquets, practically, the size of them sometimes ridiculous. But our baby needed the food as much as I did. Sometimes, as I listened to the eggs sizzle in the pan, I imagined that I was not alone; that there was a house full of people to cook for. Our little girl (I imagined her about four years old,) my mother, my brothers, and sometimes Mulder. I would imagine us all eating and smiling over a large, warm breakfast. But whenI opened my eyes, I was usually only met with a pan of charred eggs.

I sat down at the table to wait for a few minutes while things heated up. I rested my head on my arms, and could feel my eyelids... so heavy...

I awoke with a start to the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. Shit, I thought, my gun is in the bedroom. But as my eyes struggled to focus, I realized that there was something familiar about that hand.

"Scully?" Oh, God, that voice. The hand reached to cradle my cheek, and I could feel my adrenaline rising.

"Mulder?" Damn. This was horrible. This was the man who I hadn't seen for seven months, the man I loved and trusted so deeply, my partner in every sense. And the only thing I could gather to say was his name. My vision sharpened, and I could see his face. It was hauntingly familiar, and I could feel tears fill my eyes.

This had to be real. When he stood and folded me into his arms, I knew that it was definitely not a dream. He was here, he was safe, he was Mulder. Here when I needed him. He held me strongly, and I hugged him back with everything that I was. He smelled so good, like cologne and aftershave, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"God, Scully, I missed you so much." His voice was muffled, and I pressed against him.

"I love you, Mulder. I love you, I love you..." my voice trailed off, and I was sobbing. I felt so vulnerable, so fragile; a feeling I had grown to hate. But just once, I gave in and cried.

As I did, I somehow became aware of my surroundings. The room was lighter; the day had awoken. It must be around eight o'clock, I guessed, and I suddenly wondered about the breakfast I had started earlier. I was late for work. But how could these things possibly matter?

I could feel myself becoming shaky from the sudden excitement. I felt so, so weak... and had just told Fox Mulder that I loved him. I would have to go into detail later; when I wasn't a blubbering idiot. I felt his hand on my head, slowly stroking my hair.

"It's okay, Dana. It's all right; shhhh... I'm right here." He cooed this in my ear, and moved towards the couch. We sat down, still holding each other, and he pulled back gently. I took a moment to calm down, to pull myself together, then began to speak slowly.

"Mulder... I have to tell you something." I looked into his eyes for reassurement. I found it there, also finding comfort, concern and love. I took a deep breath. "Before we say anything else... before-" my voice cracked, and I stopped. "I'm pregnant." There. Done. Gulp.

I had expected him to smile. To congratulate me, to put his hand on my stomach... something. But he didn't move. His eyes darkened, and I could feel his fingers lace through my own.

"Wow." He cleared his throat. Several long seconds passed. "I'm so happy for you, Scully... I know how much you've wanted this." He was being stern; holding back. This was the formal and platitude response; I could tell that the words weren't coming from his heart. He looked down at our hands, silenced.

Oh, no. He wasn't happy. Maybe he didn't want children... Oh, Lord, let him want kids. I want him to be happy more than I want myself to be. I wanted to see him smile, laugh... be an enthusiastic father. I'd pictured him at soccer games, band concerts, and girl scout ceremonies. I'd pictured him playing outside, making dinner, tucking our child into bed at night. These visions faded. They didn't completely leave my mind, though. If Iwanted this baby, he would be all of these things if I wanted him to. He would be more, going above and beyond my expectations. To make me happy. But would he be content?

"Mulder?" I caught his eyes, and held them; letting the tacit question linger between us.

"Who... who's the, uh, father?" He stumbled over his words, his eyes dropping from mine. He pulled his hand slowly away from my own; as if it didn't belong there. His voice was so low and familiar... so suspecting and dreading.

"Mulder..." I caught his eyes again. I leaned closer to him, and could feel his body stiffen. I let my lips hover centimeters away from his ear, and relished the sound of the next words as they fell from my mouth in a loving whisper. "She's ours."

I pulled back to see his reaction, and he stared at me in disbelief. His body slowly relaxed, and a smile spread across his face, lighting the room. "She?" He paused. "We're having a girl?" I could tell he felt awkward referring to the baby as ours, but I nodded happily. Suddenly, he seemed to be hit with a thought that blockaded his rush of happiness and relief. "Scully, how did you conceive a baby? You... you were..."

"A miracle," I replied simply, and took his hand in my own. I kissed the palm- a long, tender kiss, and put it on my belly. His large hand covered my small stomach, and I smiled at the feeling. As if he were protecting both our daughter and I at once, and with all of his existence.

Our daughter.

His lips pressed against my temple, carefully forming a perfect kiss. I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I'm going to be a father..." He said quietly. "And a husband," he added tentatively. I pressed back the urge to gasp, and nodded against his broad shoulder. As surprised as I was, I thought of how we had been married in spirit, in trust, for so many years already. And it all made perfect sense. For the first time in my life, everything fit perfectly together.

"We're going to be a family," Mulder was saying these things out loud, as if to assure himself of what was going on. To lay down the facts. He picked that up from me.

"We're going to be a family," I repeated, loving the warm sound of the word family. His hand began moving in gentle circles on my belly, and I snuggled against him. "Hey Scully?" He asked quietly.

"Mmm-hmm?" I could feel my eyes slip shut.

"I think I found the truth."


Tell Mulder


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