Title:  Debrouiller (1 of 2)
Author:  Tess
E-mail:  tnv099@aol.com
Distribution:  Please notify me first
Spoilers:  General knowledge of eps
Rating:  PG-13
Content:  MSR
Keywords:  S,A,R
Disclaimer:  Characters contained herein are the 
property of Fox and 1013.  This 
story is written for entertainment purposes only
Summary:  Coping


Debrouiller
By:  Tess

~ Prologue ~

She sat quietly, eyes darting nervously around the 
darkened walls of the small room.  Waiting.  Across 
from her, Mulder lay silently, blessedly unconscious - 
safe from the fears that haunted her every waking 
moment.  And at times like this, when sleep would not 
come, it seemed to her that every moment of the last 
three months had been waking moments.  She rubbed 
nervous fingers over the wooden arms of the chair from 
where she kept watch in the night.  Waiting. 
Endlessly waiting.  The nights were the worst.  When 
the shadows lengthened and darkness filled the room; 
when Mulder abandoned her for the peaceful oblivion 
that he sought in his sleep - it was in the blackness 
of the night that her fears threatened to overwhelm 
her; for it was then that she felt most alone.

A soft whisper of sound floated toward her and she 
froze, fists tightly clutching the thin blanket she'd 
placed over her lap to ward off the slight chill in the 
room.  She shrank back into the shadows, trying to hide 
- holding her breath, willing him not to summon her.  
Please God.  Just one night, she prayed.  One night and 
she might be able gather the tattered remnants of her 
strength to face another day.

But God was not listening and when she heard the first 
low call, she obediently rose from her chair.  The thin 
cotton blanket tumbled soundlessly to the floor as she 
moved into the other room on quivering legs.  She had 
learned that it was worse if she did not respond 
immediately.  She wrapped her hands briefly around the 
bars that separated them.  Silent tears tracked down 
her cheeks as she lifted trembling fingers to the 
buttons of her pajama top, shrugging out of it under 
his unblinking gaze...


~ Chapter One ~

March, 2001

Two months earlier


"Come on, William," she begged.  "Don't cry, sweetie." 
Scully turned away from the counter and plugged the 
baby's pacifier between his lips again.  She double-
checked the safety harness to be sure that it was 
wrapped snuggly over her son's chest and waited until 
his mouth began to suckle the rubber nipple before 
returning her attention to the recipe cards spread over 
the countertop.  She had seen the look of distaste that 
had briefly crossed Mulder's face when they sat down 
for dinner the other evening.  To his credit, he had 
filled his plate with pasta, spooning over it liberal 
amounts of the jarred tomato sauce that she had heated 
in the microwave only minutes before he had arrived 
home.  He had thanked her for the dinner when he was 
finished eating and quickly cleared the table.  But she 
knew he was tired of pizza and pasta.  Hell, she was 
tired of pizza and pasta.  Actually, she was just 
tired.

But Scully was determined to be a good mother to 
William and a good... well, a good whatever it was that 
she and Mulder were to each other.  Not spouses, not 
lovers - at least not for many, many, months.  Friends?  
Companions?  Partners?  She shook her head and tugged 
open the refrigerator door, pulling out a package of 
chicken legs.  Mulder had given up the lease on his 
apartment and had moved in with her and William shortly 
after they had brought him home from the hospital.  If 
the finer points of their relationship weren't 
precisely hammered out yet, the fact remained that they 
were a family - the three of them - and she was going 
to do her best to make it work.  

She wouldn't fail at this, she thought, casting her 
eyes toward the baby boy who was fussing in the infant 
seat on the tabletop.  She would make this work or die 
trying.

She spent the next thirty minutes darting back and 
forth from her fretful child to preparing dinner.  She 
shoved the pan of flour-coated chicken into the oven 
and checked her watch; wiped her fingers off on a towel 
and used her hand to bounce the infant seat - all the 
while keeping up a steady stream of one-sided chatter 
aimed toward calming her son.  When William's 
whimpering briefly subsided, she jumped up to scrub and 
prick holes into the potatoes before setting them into 
the microwave and then hurriedly wiped down the counter 
and set the table.

My mother did this with four children and a husband who 
was always out to sea, she chanted to herself in what 
had become a daily pep talk.  You can do this, she 
reminded herself over and over again. She was pacing 
the length of the kitchen, the sobbing weight of her 
baby sagging in her arms when she heard the front door 
swing open.

"Thank God!" she breathed softly.  Mulder swept into 
the kitchen and dropped his leather jacket over the 
back of one chair. "Hi."  He smiled gently down at her.  
"Do you want me to take him?" he offered.  Scully 
nodded.

"Hey Bub," he crooned as he lifted William out of his 
mother's anxious embrace.  "What's the matter, huh?"   
He cradled the baby in one strong arm and ran the tip 
of his finger over the child's splotchy cheeks.  
William's tears dried instantly at the sound of his 
father's voice and he kicked his tiny legs excitedly.

Scully watched for a moment as their son's entire 
disposition changed from that of a tired, cranky baby 
into a chortling, gleeful charmer.  Her eyes wandered 
over father and son, noting for the hundredth time the 
startling similarities between them.  While William's 
hair at birth had contained a touch of red, that 
newborn hair had fallen out and was now growing in dark 
and full like Mulder's.  His eyes were an odd blue/gray 
color and she imagined that it was only a matter of a 
few weeks or a month before they began to turn the same 
beautiful shade of hazel as his father's.  The shape of 
his mouth, the arch of his brows... even his nose.  He 
was a miniature version of Mulder.  She had spent 
countless hours studying the baby - looking for 
something of her or the Scullys in his face or in his 
build.  In her heart she had always known who the 
father of her baby was, but the bitter memory of the 
nightmares that had sent her lurching upright in bed 
throughout her pregnancy haunted her still and she took 
comfort in this obvious confirmation of paternity. 

Scully split open the baked potatoes and carried them 
to the table along with a platter of oven-fried 
chicken.  For the first time since her life had changed 
from that of federal agent to full-time mother, she 
felt a surge of satisfaction at having accomplished 
something when she saw Mulder's eyes light up.  He 
plopped the baby back into his infant seat and they sat 
down to eat.  Scully took a sip of water from the glass 
near her plate and then lifted a steaming hot piece of 
chicken to her lips.  William chose that particular 
moment to draw his legs up to his chest and let out a 
piercing shriek.  Instant tears ran down his rounded 
cheeks and Scully reached over to free him from the 
harness holding him in his seat, recognizing the sound 
of his wails as his hungry cry.  She cradled him in one 
arm and unbuttoned her blouse with her free hand, 
tugging down the cup of her nursing bra and guiding him 
to the nipple.  She jumped, still startled by the 
ferocious manner in which he latched onto her breast; 
she sagged against her chair as he began to suckle 
intently.  

Scully glanced down at her plate and pushed it away 
from her, suddenly too tired to eat.  I can do this, 
she reminded herself.  I can do this.

~ Chapter Two ~

Tucking a long-sleeved T-shirt into the waistband of 
his trousers, Mulder hurried into the kitchen and 
yanked open the door to the dishwasher.  He reached 
inside and pulled out the travel mug that he had thrown 
into the machine the night before when he had finished 
cleaning up after dinner.  Shoving the top rack back 
into the machine, he nudged the door closed with his 
hip and reached out for the carafe of coffee sitting on 
the warming plate of the coffeemaker.  He poured 
strong, black coffee into the mug and snapped the 
spill-proof lid into place.

"I'll be a little late tonight," he said.  He set the 
mug down on the table and grabbed his backpack - he 
couldn't bring himself to carry a briefcase - from the 
kitchen chair where he had tossed it the previous 
night.  He unzipped the bag and briefly glanced inside 
at the contents.  Spinning on his heel he raced out of 
the room, returning a moment later with a thick file 
folder.  He crammed the folder into the backpack and 
zipped it closed again.

"What time do you think you'll be home?" Scully asked 
as she shifted William in her arms so that she could 
switch him from one breast to the other.  Mulder leaned 
over the back of her chair and stroked one hand over 
the downy hair covering the top of his son's head.  The 
baby grunted softly against his mother's breast as he 
greedily slurped down his breakfast.  Mulder watched 
Scully's eyes move from her study of his hand against 
their son's head to the fragrant mug of coffee sitting 
on the table in front of her.

"Want a sip?" he asked, picking up the mug and holding 
it out to her.  Scully sighed longingly and shook her 
head.

"Can't," she said, lowering her lips to William's 
forehead in a gentle kiss.  "Caffeine," she reminded 
him.  Mulder slung the backpack over one shoulder and 
watched Scully's drooping form.

"I don't think one cup of coffee a day is going to hurt 
the baby," he told her.  "And a sip certainly can't do 
any harm," he reasoned.  "Besides, you look like you 
could use a jolt," he said, concern in his voice as he 
studied the tired face she turned up to him.

"First, it's just one sip. Then, it's one cup," she 
said.  "You know me, Mulder.  It's just going to make 
me want a second cup and maybe even a third."  She 
pushed the proffered mug toward him.  "Besides, William 
doesn't need any extra stimulation!" she said ruefully.  
Mulder shrugged and drew the mug away, knowing better 
than to argue with her when she had already made up her 
mind on the matter.

"How many times were you up with him?" he asked.  
Scully blew out a breath and stroked gentle fingers 
over William's satiny cheek.  "Twice," she admitted.  
"After he nursed the first time, he was restless and 
fidgety, so I rocked him for an hour or two.  He 
finally fell asleep after he nursed again and I put him 
back into his crib."

Mulder shook his head wonderingly.  He hadn't heard a 
sound from either of them all night.  "What time did 
you finally get to bed?" he asked.  Scully thought 
about it for a moment before answering.

"Sometime around four o'clock," she admitted softly.  
Mulder glanced at the clock on the microwave.  The 
digital numbers glowed softly green, telling him that 
it was just after seven o'clock in the morning.  

"Scully," he admonished.  "You can't keep getting by on 
three hours of sleep," he told her.  She nodded and 
lifted William away from her breast and onto her 
shoulder.

"I know," she said as she rubbed the baby's back with 
the flat of her hand.  "But if I had put him in the 
crib, he would have screamed and cried and then all 
three of us would have been awake," she explained.  
Mulder suppressed an exasperated sigh and ran his hand 
over the crown of her head.

"I'll see you around eight o'clock," he said.  Coffee 
mug clutched securely in one hand, he lowered his other 
hand to her shoulder and squeezed it gently.  Scully 
pulled the baby away from her shoulder and waved his 
tiny hand in the air.

"Say goodbye to Daddy," she said in a soft voice.  
Mulder smiled as he shrugged into his jacket and let 
himself out of the apartment.  He jogged lightly along 
the sidewalk, coffee sloshing gently in its thermal 
container, keys jangling in rhythm with his loping 
stride. He opened the car door and slid behind the 
wheel, tossing his backpack onto the passenger seat and 
securing the coffee mug into the cup holder.  He pulled 
out of the parking spot and drove down the quiet 
street, slowing as he pulled even with the apartment 
building.  Glancing up, he saw Scully and William 
watching from the window. Charmed by the image they 
made framed in the window, Mulder stopped the car and 
gazed up at his family.  Scully lifted her hand and 
pressed it to the glass in a silent farewell.  An 
impatient honking noise startled him out of his 
reverie.

"Bye," he mouthed as Scully stepped back and allowed 
her hand to fall away from the window.  He pressed down 
on the gas pedal and accelerated toward the highway and 
work.

********** 

Scully turned away from the window with a sigh and 
looked around the kitchen.  Regretfully she poured the 
rest of the coffee down the drain and set the empty pot 
into the sink.

"I'll clean up in here later," she told William.  
"Right now, we need to get dressed."  She carried the 
baby into the bedroom and laid him on padded surface of 
the changing table.  Keeping one hand on him, she 
leaned down to gather up a clean diaper and clothes and 
laid them at one end of the changing table. 

"Let's get you out of that wet diaper," she said in a 
conversational tone.  She popped open the leg snaps of 
his fleecy pajamas and pushed them out of the way 
before releasing the velcro tabs of the wet diaper with 
a loud ripping noise.  Snapping open the plastic 
container of baby wipes, she quickly cleaned him up and 
dusted his little bottom with a sprinkling of baby 
powder before putting him into a clean diaper.

"There you go," she whispered. Tucking her hair behind 
her ears, she leaned forward to press a kiss to the 
baby's rounded belly.  "Does that feel better?" she 
asked as she stripped him the rest of the way out of 
his pajamas. Scully tugged a tiny T-shirt over 
William's head and dressed him in a one-piece romper.  

"Let's sit down for a minute," she sighed as she lifted 
the baby from the dressing table.  Exhausted from 
trying to wrestle her kicking, squirming baby boy into 
his clothes, she collapsed onto the bed, tucking the 
baby into the curve of her arm as she nestled her cheek 
into the pillow.

"Getting you dressed in the morning is more exhausting 
than chasing ten mutants," she told him in 
exasperation.  William blinked at her and kicked his 
feet in the air gleefully.  Scully captured one little 
foot in her hand and ran her thumb over the soft skin 
of his instep, tracing the delicate bones of his foot 
with her fingers.  

"How can one little person be so much work?" she 
whispered.  Two months had passed since she had walked 
out of the X-Files office to begin her maternity leave 
and in the six weeks since William's birth, she was 
more tired than she had ever been before.  Even the 
heavy caseload she and Mulder had carried when working 
the X-Files didn't compare to the utter exhaustion she 
now felt.  She missed working, but knew that staying 
home with her son was more important.

She and Mulder had discussed their options in the weeks 
and days leading up to the baby's birth.  Stay at 
home... go to work... full-time... part-time... 
daycare... they had talked about every possible 
scenario.  But it wasn't until William's harrowing 
entrance into their lives that the truth became crystal 
clear.  Their baby's life could still very well be in 
danger.  One of them would have to stay at home with 
him.  For Scully there was only one answer.  She would 
stay with him.  She was a nursing mother.  She had 
longed for a child; dreamed of being a mother and in 
the long weeks and months when she had searched for 
Mulder, she hadn't allowed herself the luxury of 
contemplating the idea that she would be able to stay 
at home and watch their child grow.  To take care of 
his every need.  To be the most important person in his 
life.  

Surprisingly enough, Mulder found himself to be in 
demand in the job market.  He had taken a position with 
The Center for Paranormal Studies and Research - a 
privately funded think tank devoted to the study of 
extraterrestrial and paranormal phenomena.  And it was 
there, Scully knew, that he had finally found his place 
in the world.  Despite his devotion to the X-Files, he 
had been an outcast at the FBI.  It wasn't until he had 
begun to work at the Center that she realized how 
desperately he had longed to be accepted and taken 
seriously by his peers.  Now, surrounded by like-minded 
people, Mulder was happier than she had ever known him 
to be.

She only hoped that she and William were equally 
important factors in his happiness.  But she wasn't 
sure.  Despite the fact that he had let go of his 
apartment and moved in with them, Scully wasn't certain 
of the extent of Mulder's commitment to her and their 
baby.  She ran her fingers through the wisps of dark 
hair curling on William's head. "That's not true," she 
murmured softly.  "Your father loves you very much," 
she assured their son.  "He'll always be there for 
you."  She ran her knuckles over the infant's soft 
cheeks.  "I'm just not sure where he and I stand," she 
admitted.  With the exception of a few chaste kisses 
and hugs, Mulder had not attempted to touch her or take 
any steps towards reclaiming the intimacy they had 
shared that had resulted in William's conception.  Most 
of his belongings remained in storage.  The Gunmen had 
adopted the fish and their aquarium.  Only his winter 
clothes hung in one corner of the bedroom closet.  His 
toiletries were kept in a shaving kit under the 
bathroom sink.  No mention was made of their moving 
into a bigger place - of making that huge, scary 
commitment to purchasing a home together.  Mulder and 
their son shared a name; but she didn't share it with 
them.  

Scully thought of the messy kitchen and the laundry 
stacked on top of the washing machine.  Shaking off her 
melancholy, she scooped the baby into her arms.  "What 
we need, William," she said as she nuzzled her cheek 
against his, "is a plan."  

~ Chapter Three ~  

The plan was a simple one.  Scully decided to set aside 
Monday and Wednesday mornings to take care of the 
laundry.  On Tuesdays she would take William with her 
to the supermarket to buy the week's groceries, go to 
the dry cleaners, the post office and any other errands 
that needed to be taken care of.  Thursdays would be 
devoted to thoroughly cleaning the apartment, scrubbing 
the bathroom and changing the bed linens.  Fridays were 
to be set aside as play days where she and William 
would go out for walks or to the park or to visit her 
mother.  All of the books that she had been reading 
suggested that new mothers nap when the baby naps and a 
succession of near sleepless nights made Scully see the 
wisdom of that advice.  She intended to sleep for at 
least an hour and spend the other hour of quiet time 
catching up on her reading.  Her medical journals were 
piling up and she wanted to stay current.  The rest of 
the afternoons and early evenings would be spent 
straightening up the apartment and preparing dinner.

Scully propped her chin on her fist and carefully 
studied the chart she had created on her computer.  
"That seems simple enough."  She looked down to find 
William sucking on his fingers.  She leaned forward and 
released the straps holding him in the infant seat.

"Ohh," she murmured, cuddling him against her shoulder.  
"Now that Momma has a plan she can get organized," she 
informed the tiny child.  "Things are going to run much 
more smoothly around here," she promised.  Scully 
glanced at her watch and then back at the computer 
screen.  She printed a copy of the chart and shut down 
the computer. 

"Well," she considered.  "It's not Tuesday so 
technically we're not supposed to be going to the 
grocery store, but I don't have anything in the house 
to make for dinner," she told William.   She bundled 
William into the snowsuit that her mother had bought 
for him and carried him back into the bedroom where she 
pulled her service revolver out of a drawer of the 
bedside table.  After making sure that the safety was 
engaged, she tucked the revolver against the small of 
her back.  She shrugged into her own coat but left it 
unbuttoned so that she would be able to grab the gun 
more easily, if necessary.  Finally they were ready to 
go.

Scully pushed the cart with the built-in infant seat 
through the supermarket dividing her attention between 
the baby, her grocery list and keeping an alert eye on 
her fellow shoppers.  She moved rapidly through the 
store, careful never to walk down an aisle where she 
and William might become trapped between two other 
carts, always searching for an escape route, scanning 
the overhead mirrors mounted near the ends of the 
aisles and making careful note of the placement of the 
security cameras.  She finally relaxed once she and 
William were safely locked inside the car.  On the 
short ride home, she let her thoughts drift back to the 
chart she had worked on in the morning.  For the first 
time, Scully felt a surge of confidence in her ability 
to handle the whole stay-at-home mom thing.  She felt 
that half the battle was won simply by taking a few 
minutes to become organized.  She believed that she and 
William would fall into a simple routine in no time 
now.

She was unpacking the groceries when William began to 
whimper.  Scully threw a quick glance toward the 
sniffling baby trying to decide whether or not she had 
time to finish putting the groceries away... but an 
indignant wail from the infant seat settled the matter 
for her.  She unbuttoned her blouse and sat down at the 
table with the baby in her arms, arching her back 
against the uncomfortable wooden kitchen chair.  
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw beads of 
condensation rolling down the sides of the tub of 
strawberry ice cream, creating a pool of moisture on 
the countertop.  She glanced down at William who was 
contentedly, greedily, suckling and rose to her feet.

Startled by her sudden movement, William's mouth 
slipped off her nipple.  "I'm just going to put the ice 
cream away," she murmured to the fretful baby as she 
guided him back to her breast.  One-armed, she tugged 
open the freezer door and put the melting ice cream 
inside and then turned back to the table to finish 
nursing the baby in peace when her eyes fell on the 
rest of the groceries.

"Well, maybe I'll just put the rest of the perishables 
away," she said in a reasonable tone as she neatly 
placed the meats and fresh vegetables and fruits that 
she had purchased into the refrigerator.  When she 
finished with the perishables, it only made sense that 
she would finish putting the rest of the groceries into 
the cupboards.  After that, she looked around the 
kitchen and saw the dirty breakfast dishes still 
sitting in the sink.   Peeking downward, she saw the 
William had fallen asleep, rosebud lips slack around 
her nipple, a tiny, milky bubble clinging to his full 
bottom lip.

"Nap time," she whispered as she carried the sleeping 
babe into the nursery.  She lowered her son into the 
crib and tugged a blanket over his tiny body.  She 
threw a longing glance toward her own bedroom, 
remembering her vow to rest when William did, but the 
call of the messy kitchen was loud.

"I'll just start taking a nap with you tomorrow..."

 
~ Chapter Four ~

Two weeks later


Mulder pushed open the front door and pocketed his 
keys.  He stood at the threshold for a moment basking 
in the warmth of the room.  He listened to the 
comforting, homey sounds coming from the kitchen - 
Scully's soft voice as she talked to William, his 
gurgling answers and the quiet clink of a spoon being 
set down.  The air was fragrant with her cooking and he 
took an experimental sniff.  God!  Whatever she was 
making smelled great.

Mulder pushed the door closed.  Shrugging out of his 
jacket, he hung it on a hook and set his backpack down.  
He had some notes to go over before bed, but for now he 
wanted to enjoy being with his family.  And, to his 
surprise, he did enjoy being with them.  Their lives 
were far from what most people would consider normal.  
Fear for their son's safety was the number one reason 
that Scully was not going back to work, and his job 
with the Center... well, both were ample proof of the 
oddities that made up their everyday lives.  Still, he 
had not known how much his battered psyche had needed 
the stability of a family.  The outward physical wounds 
sustained during his abduction had faded quickly.  
But it was William's chubby cheerfulness and sweet, 
milky scent as well as the home that Scully worked so 
hard to create for them and her constant presence and 
support that was healing the wounds to his soul.  The 
nightmares were coming less frequently and at the 
Center he was able to slowly pick his way through his 
memories with the help of sympathetic colleagues.  Work 
was giving him a newfound sense of credibility and 
worth.  Home was filling him with a never before known 
sense of peace and hope for the future.

Mulder walked toward the warm and fragrant kitchen.  He 
stood quietly in the doorway and took a moment to 
absorb the controlled chaos before him.  Scully was 
poking at something in one of the pots with a fork.  To 
Mulder, she had never looked so beautiful.   She was 
trim and pretty in a pair of faded jeans, bare feet 
peeking out from below the frayed hems.  Her milk-heavy 
breasts pressed against the soft cotton of her denim 
shirt and the hair around her face was curling in the 
humidity of the room.  She was holding William in one 
arm, her body angled away from the stove to protect the 
baby from the heat while she cooked.

"Hi."  He cleared his throat and moved into the room.  

"You're home."  Scully looked up from her work and 
returned his smile.  Mulder crossed the tiled floor and 
began lifting lids from the various pots and pans on 
the stovetop.  

"Mmmm."  He licked his lips at the sight of pork chops 
and quartered potatoes browning in a heavy skillet.  
The expression on his face was one of near rapture 
until further explorations led him to discover brussel 
sprouts and spinach steaming in nearby pots.

"Can you take him?"  Scully nodded toward the baby and 
Mulder lifted William into his arms.  She sighed with 
relief and rolled her head back and forth trying to 
relieve the ache in her neck and shoulders.

"Why don't you put him in his seat when you're busy?" 
Mulder asked.  He poked his finger into the bowl of 
applesauce sitting in the center of the table and 
sucked the tip of his finger thoughtfully.  Scully 
rolled her eyes.

"Because every time I tried to put him down, he started 
to scream."  She spooned the vegetables into serving 
bowls.  "I've been toting him around since he woke up 
from his nap."  She forked the chops and potatoes onto 
a plate and carried it to the table.  Mulder stuck his 
finger back into the applesauce and held it to 
William's mouth.

"Want some?" He nudged the baby's lips with his finger.  
"OW!"  He snatched his hand back when Scully slapped at 
him, quickly licking the sauce from his finger before 
placing his lips against his stinging palm.

"Mulder!  He's too little for applesauce!"  Scully 
stood with her hands planted on her hips and a 
disapproving frown on her face.

"I know that!" Mulder mumbled in an aggrieved tone.  "I 
was only kidding."  His hand had only stung for a 
second or two from her mild slap, but he continued to 
hold it to his lips, an exaggerated air of wounded 
dignity surrounding him.

Scully huffed out a breath.  "I'm sorry," she said 
remorsefully.  Mulder smiled and turned back to the 
table with the baby.

"Okay, Bub."  He eased the baby into his seat.  "I'm 
just gonna put you here so your mom and I can eat."  
Scully watched enviously as William docilely allowed 
his father to strap him into the infant seat.  It 
wasn't long, however, before he began to fuss and 
whimper.

"Leave him," Mulder advised when Scully moved to pick 
him up.  She sat back and raised a glass of water to 
her lips.  William's fretful whines began to increase 
in volume and she shook her head, recognizing the cry.

"He's hungry."  She lifted the baby and began undoing 
the buttons of her shirt.  Mulder couldn't remember the 
last time he had seen her enjoy an uninterrupted meal.

"Maybe we should try the bottle again," he suggested.  
Scully had tried pumping milk so that Mulder could help 
with the feedings, but William refused to take to the 
bottle.

"He doesn't like it."  She shifted the baby into a more 
comfortable position and picked up her fork. "Besides, 
the books suggest sticking to breastfeeding exclusively 
for the first few months to avoid nipple confusion."  
Unable to cut the meat, she speared a brussel sprout 
onto the tines.  Mulder leaned across the table and cut 
a few bite-sized pieces of pork and she smiled 
appreciatively.

"Thanks."

"You look a little tired."  Mulder studied her face 
under the glow of the overhead lamp.  She glanced down 
at her nursing son.

"It's taking us a little longer to get used to the 
schedule than I had hoped."  Mulder leaned back in his 
seat, pleasantly full.  The changes in both of their 
lives were massive, but everyday he was amazed by how 
well Scully seemed to be handling it.

"I know you must miss work," he began.  "And if the 
time comes that you decide that you want to go back... 
I promise, we'll figure something out."  Scully was 
watching him, a curious expression on her face.  "I 
know that it's probably not very politically correct 
for me to say this..." He hesitated, conscious of a 
need to give true voice to his feelings.  "But I love 
knowing that you're doing this."  He rushed on.  
"You're such an incredible mom, Scully." He smiled at 
the contented sight of their baby, sleepily tugging on 
her nipple.  "Maybe it's because you learned from the 
best," he suggested.  "But right here, right now... 
what you're doing, being here to take care of his every 
need the way you do... you're giving him such an 
incredible foundation on which to grow."  Mulder looked 
down at the table and a sheepish look crossed his face.

"And I know that it's even less politically correct for 
me to admit this, but... the work I'm doing at the 
Center?  I never thought that I would find something 
that intrigued me as much as our work on the X-Files, 
yet I have.  But even more than that... I like knowing 
that I can provide for you and William... that I can 
make it possible for you to stay here with him."  He 
shrugged helplessly.  "It feels good."

He stood and lifted William from her arms.  Holding the 
baby against his shoulder, he rubbed and patted his 
tiny back.  "I know that being a stay-at-home mom 
doesn't present the same challenges that you were used 
to as a doctor and agent.  But you're creating a warm, 
safe and happy place for William... for me..." He 
leaned down and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her 
ear.  "I just wanted to tell you that I still think 
you're amazing."


~ Chapter Five ~

Babies don't stick to schedules.  You would think that 
in all of the books she had read, that would have been 
something that would have leapt out at her.  
Babies don't stick to schedules.  And if the baby is 
Fox Mulder's baby... well, he'd be even less inclined 
to stick to a schedule.  Scully had been hopeful that 
William would have inherited at least her sense of 
timing and organization, but it seemed that he was 
destined to take after his father in all things - 
looks, disorganization and sleep habits.  It was 
becoming increasingly apparent that William, like 
Mulder, was easily capable of getting through the day 
with very little sleep.  And by extension, Scully was 
getting through her day on very little sleep.  But not 
as easily.

On Monday, William wouldn't settle down for his morning 
nap and so the laundry was pushed off until later in 
the day.  Doing laundry for three people, one of whom 
spits up on his clothes three times a day, in an 
apartment-sized washing machine was a daunting and 
time-consuming task.  Scully briefly considered 
bundling all of the clothes up into a couple of bags 
and hauling them and the baby to the Laundromat, but 
she despised going to the Laundromat.  When she 
graduated from college, the very first thing she did 
was to find an apartment that had its own washer and 
dryer.  

Instead of joining William for an hour's rest when he 
finally succumbed to an afternoon nap, Scully spent the 
time folding the laundry.  By the time she was finished 
putting the last of the clean laundry away, William was 
awake.  She glanced at the clock and carried her 
freshly diapered and fed son into the kitchen to begin 
the dinner preparations.

And so it went.  On Tuesday morning, he was fretful, 
drawing his tiny legs up and crying, spitting up most 
of her milk after every feeding.  But just as she had 
made her mind up to call the pediatrician, he seemed to 
be feeling better.  By then it was getting late and she 
bundled him into the car so that she could take care of 
her errands.  William took his nap in the car and in 
the supermarket.  Scully didn't sleep at all.

Wednesday... Thursday - it was more of the same. Scully 
was determined not to let scheduling problems interfere 
with the things that needed to be done.  Mulder's words 
of praise over dinner the previous week had been a balm 
to her harried soul.  She hadn't known how much she 
needed someone to validate what she was doing, to tell 
her that she was doing a good job.  So often she felt 
out of her depth, so unsure of herself.  

She pushed herself to get everything finished.  All of 
her life, it had been important to Scully to do the job 
and to do it right.  She and Mulder had made a bargain 
when William was born and she wanted to hold up her end 
of that bargain. Mulder's admiration of her ability to 
do this job meant so much.  His words to her over 
dinner said that he valued what she was doing.  She 
felt as though they were still partners - each working 
toward a common goal, but coming at it from two 
different places, just as they had always done.  She 
could no more let him down here than she could have 
when they were still working together in the field.  
Mulder and William were counting on her.  She wouldn't 
fail them.

Surely, she thought with hope, it wouldn't take much 
longer for William and her to settle into a routine.

******* 

April, 2001


The early spring sun shone through the living room 
window, spreading its warmth over the playpen and the 
infant slumbering within.  In the kitchen, Scully 
stretched up onto the tips of her toes, a heavy glass 
bowl in her hands as she tried to find room for it in 
the overhead cabinet.  She lost her balance and 
instinctively reached out with one hand to grab onto 
the cabinet for support.  The bowl slipped from her 
grasp and fell to the tiled floor with a splintering 
crash.

"Damnit!"  Shards of glass glittered all over the 
kitchen floor.  In the living room, William awoke with 
an ear-piercing shriek. Scully looked down at the 
minefield of broken glass surrounding her bare feet.  
William's wails were loud and terrified and Scully, 
conditioned from the moment she learned she was 
pregnant to believe that her baby's life was in danger, 
wasted no time in going to him.  A quick glance around 
the living room told her that there was no threatening 
presence and she scooped him from the playpen.

"It's okay, William."  She cuddled him close, wrapping 
her arms tightly around his tiny body.  "I'm here.  I'm 
sorry I scared you."  Her voice was a low, soothing 
whisper as she bounced him in her arms.  William's face 
was blotchy and huge tears trembled on his eyelashes.  
Scully sank down onto the sofa and unbuttoned her 
blouse.  William let out one more quivering, hitching 
sob before he turned to her breast and the nourishment 
and comfort she offered.

Scully leaned back against the cushions and willed her 
racing heart to slow.  She stroked her hand lightly 
over the baby's silky hair and continued to talk to him 
in a soft voice.  As she relaxed and William's whimpers 
turned to hungry sighs and grunts, she became aware of 
a stinging pain in the soles of her feet.  She had been 
dimly aware of stepping on the shards of glass as she 
raced from the kitchen, but she had been desperate to 
get to William.  She knew that it was irrational to 
believe that every cry that escaped his mouth was a 
warning of danger, but she was helpless to stop the 
panic that swamped her when she was separated from him.

It took thirty minutes for William to finish nursing 
and settle down.  Another five to change his diaper.  
Forty more minutes were spent picking slivers of glass 
from the soles of her feet and to treat the cuts with 
antibiotic ointment and bandages.  Bloodstains had to 
be cleaned from the carpet and the kitchen floor was 
littered with sparkling pieces of glass.

When she was finished cleaning everything up, she 
looked at the clock.  "Shit."  Scully groaned, 
realizing that Mulder would be home in less than an 
hour and she hadn't even started to prepare dinner.  
She reached for a takeout menu from a drawer and 
started to dial the pizza shop.

"No."  She slammed down the phone in frustration.  If 
she gave in now and ordered takeout, she was afraid 
that she would do that whenever she fell behind.  
Scully stalked to the refrigerator and tugged it open, 
scanning the contents quickly, then yanked open the 
freezer and did the same thing.  Her eyes lit on a 
container of soup that was leftover from a couple of 
weeks ago.  She could defrost it in the microwave, but 
there was probably only enough soup left for two bowls.  
Not enough to make a meal.  Soup and sandwiches?

Scully whirled away from the refrigerator and limped 
out of the kitchen.  She lifted William out of the 
playpen again and dressed him in a light jacket in 
deference to the warming spring days. Snatching her own 
jacket from the hook by the door, she grabbed her keys 
and hurried downstairs.

End 1 of 2

http://www.envy.nu/tessfiles