Title: Debrouiller (2 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 ~ Chapter Six ~ Mulder rang the doorbell and waited, listening to the muffled sound of footsteps drawing closer. The door swung open and he smiled. "Fox!" A startled Margaret Scully stood framed in the doorway. "Is something wrong? Dana? The baby?" Her voice was strained and he shook his head to allay her fears. "They're at home," he said in a reassuring tone. Margaret stepped away from the door and Mulder walked into the house, brushing his lips over her cheek in a greeting that was becoming more comfortable with the passing of time. "I wanted to talk to you though." He followed her to the kitchen. She waved a hand toward the table and he hooked his jacket over the back of a chair before he sat down. "Can I get you anything?" Margaret stood with one hand on the refrigerator door. "Water would be great." A moment later, Mulder thanked her when she set two tall glasses of ice water onto the table. "You wanted to talk to me about something?" Margaret prompted. Mulder nodded and ran his fingers over the outside of the glass, already slick with condensation. "It's about Scully," he admitted. "I'm a little worried about her." He looked up at the older woman. "Has she seemed... different?" Margaret took a sip of water, considering his question carefully. "She seems tired, edgy..." Her voice was hesitant but Mulder nodded in agreement. "You know about "The Schedule"?" His forefinger slashed through the air as if underlining and placing extreme importance on the words. Margaret nodded and waited for him to continue. "She's so intent on keeping to this damn schedule of hers. When she falls behind for some reason..." He waved his hands around helplessly as he tried to put his concerns into words. "Instead of helping her, this goddamned schedule is making her crazy!" His brow wrinkled in concern and he blew out an aggravated breath. "Here's a perfect example," he began. "Two weeks ago I came home from The Center and found Scully and the baby in the kitchen. She was rushing around trying to get dinner ready." He looked across the table and found himself staring into Margaret's eyes - blue eyes so like the ones that he looked into every night across the kitchen table in the apartment that he shared with Scully and their son - the same blue eyes that he wanted to look into every night until they began to fade, just a tiny bit, like the ones that were now watching him with compassion. "That night, Scully apologized to me because dinner was going to be late but... I don't know - she had dropped a glass bowl, breaking it on the kitchen floor and the sound woke William up. She had to comfort him and clean up the broken glass and apparently by the time she was finished all of that, there wasn't enough time to cook what she had planned to make that night so she and the baby ran out to the grocery store..." His voice took on the same frustrated and near-frantic tones that Scully had used to explain what had transpired that afternoon. "I told her that she should have ordered a pizza and she snapped at me. She said that she was perfectly capable of feeding her family without the help of Little Caesar!" He took a long gulp of water. "It wasn't until we were finished eating that I realized the extent of what had happened before I arrived home." He told Margaret about her daughter's headlong rush over the broken glass in her bare feet. "She was limping around the apartment, getting ready to give William his bath," he said, running agitated fingers through his hair. "There were several slivers of glass still imbedded in her feet. It took me nearly two hours to convince her to let me take her to the emergency room to have them removed." "That's why she cancelled our Friday date," Margaret mused softly. Mulder nodded in agreement. "She could barely walk. I think that maybe this is partially my fault." His voice was low and thoughtful and he took another sip of water. Margaret's face reflected her confusion. "Almost two months ago, I told her that I thought she was doing an amazing job - staying at home with William." He leaned across the table, his posture urgent, trying to convey to his son's grandmother how he felt. "She is - amazing, that is. She's always been amazing to me... but to come home to her every day - knowing that she's there for William, for me... she's healing all of the broken places inside of me." Margaret's smile was delighted and tears brightened her eyes. "I tried to tell her, but I'm afraid that hearing it has just put more pressure on her. God! I know that it was hard for her to stop working and I wanted her to know - I just wanted her to know..." His words trailed off and when he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. "Every morning when I wake up, she and William are already awake and dressed and every night when I come home, she's got dinner on the stove and the apartment is spotless. How can that be?" he wondered. "How does a woman with a two and a half month old baby manage to keep the place in such perfect order? Shouldn't there be blankets and bears and rattles and tiny clothes lying about? Every magazine is in place, there isn't a speck of dust to be found... it doesn't seem normal to me." Margaret leaned across the table and laid her hands over his agitated fingers. "I've been a bit worried about her too," she admitted. "She's losing weight," Margaret commented. "Have you noticed?" Mulder hung his head between his shoulders and sighed deeply. "I'm not surprised." His voice was soft and worried. "I can't remember the last time I saw her eat a meal in peace," he admitted. "William seems to have timed his mealtimes to ours." He looked up and grimaced. "Scully is lucky to get a couple of forksful of food before he starts crying." Margaret nodded. "It's the same way whenever we have lunch together." She sipped her water and mulled things over in her mind for a quick moment. "Dana has always need to maintain a certain amount of control over the every day occurrences of her life," she reflected. "As a child she was always making up lists and organizing her dolls' clothes. Whenever her father was reassigned to a new base, Dana was always the first one packed and ready to go." Margaret's smile reflected the sweetly sad memories of her youngest daughter who had tried to keep a measure of control over her life during a childhood filled with new friends, new schools and new homes every few years. "I've always thought that Dana studied medicine because the demands of being a doctor required a level of structure and organization that appealed to her." Margaret propped her chin on one hand and kept her other hand over Mulder's now-quiet fingers. "When she decided to accept the FBI's offer of employment, I have to admit, I was stunned. It seemed such an impetuous move for someone with Dana's personality." She fell silent, again caught up in her memories. Mulder waited patiently for her to continue. "Still... I'm sure Dana expected that a fair amount of structure and regulations would be part and parcel of being a federal agent." She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. "I don't think she ever expected you." Mulder's eyes were startled at Margaret's frankness and his hands jerked under hers in reaction. She tightened her grip and pressed on. "You shocked her. Your ideas confounded her." Margaret's lips quirked upward. "Everything about you and your work... it was a challenge she couldn't resist." Unsure of how to interpret Scully's mother's words, Mulder glanced down at the table and their joined hands and then back up to meet Margaret's soft blue eyes. He was surprised by the intensity of her gaze and the fierceness of her words. "I believe that Dana has spent most of the last eight years often feeling very much out of her depth - unable to control the events that took place around her. And you... more than anything else in her life, she was unable to rein you in or put you into a box that she could organize or manage. You kept her off balance." Mulder's head dropped over their joined hands guiltily and Margaret put two fingers under his chin to lift his gaze back to hers. "It was good for her, Fox. You're good for her. She loved working with you; she thrived on it. But now... the baby, the responsibilities of motherhood and sharing her life with you... she's falling back on her old ways. She thinks that if she can make her lists and structure every minute of her day, she can maintain complete control over her life." Mulder grunted in frustration and shared a rueful smile with Scully's mother. "Dana needs to realize that her life is different now and that a baby simply isn't going to follow a routine to the letter. She needs to loosen the chokehold that she has on this 'schedule'." Margaret crooked two fingers of each hand in the air, mimicking quotation marks. "You try to convince her of that." Mulder's tone was full of suppressed, agitated frustration. Margaret sent him a chiding look and he sank back against his chair. "She also needs to learn to relax," Margaret continued. "And this time, I'm the one with a plan..." *********** Scully looked up, surprised by the sound of someone knocking on the front door. William was sleeping in his playpen and she was sitting on the sofa, an overflowing basket of clean laundry at her feet. She finished folding a tiny blue T-shirt and added it to the stack on the coffee table as Mulder crossed the living room to answer the door. "Mom?" Scully stood as her mother swept into the room. "I didn't know you were stopping by." She brushed her lips over Margaret's cheek and inhaled the light, flowery perfume that she always associated with her mother. Margaret Scully set a small tote bag and her purse on the floor and shrugged out of her sweater, handing it to Mulder with a smile. Scully glanced down and she frowned at the sight of a paperback book and two magazines poking out of the tote bag. Confused, she looked up to meet first her mother's smiling face and then Mulder's. "What's going on?" Her fingers tightened around the little denim overalls that she had pulled out of the laundry basket. Margaret sank down into a chair. "I'm here to babysit," she announced lightly. She glanced at the gold watch on her wrist. "I thought I would come over a little early to give you time to get ready in peace." "Babysit?" Scully's face reflected her confusion. "We're not going out..." She looked to Mulder to back her up and saw that he was not in the least bit surprised by her mother's unexpected appearance. "Did you know about this?" Her eyes darted back and forth from his face to her mother's. Margaret rose and cupped her daughter's cheek in her hand. "Dana. We just thought it would be good for you to get out of the house for a little while." Her thumb stroked over the soft skin of Scully's cheek. Scully jerked her head away from her mother's hand and took a step back. "You both thought it would be good..." She blinked once and turned to face Mulder with narrowed eyes. "Didn't you explain to Mom that we couldn't leave William alone?" Mulder heaved out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "We'll only be gone for a couple of hours and we'll have our phones." His calm and reasonable tone sparked Scully's temper. "A couple of hours? A couple of..." She spluttered and threw her hands up in the air. "We can't leave him alone for a couple of minutes," she stressed angrily. Margaret wrapped her fingers tightly around Scully's wrist, the mother in her immediately taking note of the delicate bones protruding from beneath the flesh and the thinness of her daughter's face. "You aren't leaving him alone," she pointed out quietly. "You're leaving him with his grandmother!" Scully yanked her hand away from her mother and planted her hands on her hips. "Mother! You don't understand!" In her agitation, her voice rose and William awoke with a whimper." Scully scrubbed her hands over her face. "Perfect," she muttered. "Just perfect." William's whimpers changed to a thin, reedy cry and she held out one hand to stave off Mulder's move toward the baby and stalked to the playpen. "I've got him." She scooped their son into her arms and threw a condemning glance at Mulder and her mother before whirling toward the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her. Mulder dug the heels of his hands against his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. "That went well," he grunted. "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Scully," he apologized on behalf of her daughter. "I'd better go in there." He moved toward the bedroom and once again was stopped by a Scully woman with the light of battle in her blue eyes. "No, Fox. I think, maybe it's time for a little mother-daughter chat." She smoothed her sweater over her hips and pushed the bedroom door open with a slap of her hand. "This should be very interesting," Mulder muttered, torn between escaping the suddenly small apartment and pressing his ear against the bedroom door. Instead he went into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich. Whatever the outcome of the battle gearing up in the bedroom, he knew they wouldn't be going out to dinner tonight. ************ Scully stopped trying to wrestle her squirming, sobbing son back into his clothes and instead carried the freshly-diapered baby to the bed. She sank down on the edge of the mattress and unfastened her blouse and bra, putting William to her breast. Her eyes flicked up at the sound of her mother pushing her way through the bedroom door and she knew by her mother's rigid stance that the discussion begun in the living room was far from over. "I'm sorry, Mom." She held up a hand to forestall the reprimand that she simply didn't feel strong enough to cope with at the moment. She looked down at the fussing baby in her arms and tried to guide his mouth to her nipple but he turned his face away with an irritated grunt. "Come on, William." She tickled the corner of his mouth with her pinkie but he steadfastly refused to latch on to her breast. Scully released a shuddering breath and switched him to her other arm, hoping that he would settle down to nurse at her other breast. Instead he arched his back and his face flushed an angry red. "Please, Baby." Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes as she pleaded with him to quiet down. She drew in a deep breath and willed the tears away when she felt the mattress give beside her. "Give him to me." Her mother's voice was calm and authoritative. William showed no inclination toward nursing so Scully held him out to her mother's waiting arms. "Hey there, little man." Margaret Scully stood and cradled her youngest grandchild in her arms. "What's all the fuss about?" She drew the backs of her knuckles in a line over his tiny chest and rounded belly, dipping gently tickling fingers just beneath the edge of his diaper. "Shh." William sucked on two fingers and solemnly studied his grandmother's face. Scully hung her head, again fighting back tears, frustrated by the easiness with which William quieted in her mother's embrace. "You're tired, Dana. He picks up on that." Margaret ran her fingers over the tufts of dark hair covering William's head. "You need to take a break." Scully's head flew up to meet her mother's sympathetic eyes. "Ahab was away most of the time and you were home alone with us... did Grandma come and bail you out?" Margaret pursed her lips and shook her head. "No. Both of your grandmothers lived too far away to help. You know that..." Scully interrupted. "But I'm so inept as a mother that you feel the need to run to the rescue?" Margaret held back a long-suffering sigh. Stubborn, headstrong... her youngest daughter was all of those things and more. "No. Dana, please. What I think is that you are putting too much pressure on yourself to be perfect. I wished when I was raising you that I had someone to help me. I wished that your father had been around more for me to lean on. Fox is here. Let him help you. I'm here. Let me help you." Scully folded her lips tightly together and stared blindly at the carpeted floor beneath her feet. Her mother noted the barely perceptible way in which her daughter rocked back and forth and she sank down onto the mattress again. "Dana." Margaret reached out with one hand to cover the fist curled into the fabric of the bedspread. "Do you remember what happened three weeks ago when we were at the mall with William?" Scully's hand shook and under her mother's. "We were sitting at a table outside of the coffee shop, taking a break. William was in my lap, asleep and a woman stopped to fuss over him. Do you remember how you reacted?" Scully nodded and released the bedspread, wiping sweaty palms against her denim-covered legs. Scully had been enjoying a decaf cappuccino and the sight of her baby being cuddled in his grandmother's loving arms. So caught up was she in the moment that she had relaxed her guard and the woman had advanced on them before she was aware of her presence... "I was being cautious," she said defensively. "Cautious!" Her mother barked out a laugh. "You jumped to your feet, knocked over your chair and spilled your cappuccino all over the table and the floor. You startled that poor woman so badly, she practically ran away from us." Margaret could still see the rounded eyes filled with fear when the woman hurried away as quickly as her legs would carry her. "My God, Dana! I thought for a moment that you were going to pull your gun on her!" "Mom, she could have..." "Dana! That woman had to be almost eighty years old! She was no threat to William." Scully pushed her fist against her mouth, biting back a stinging retort and Margaret took advantage of the silence to press forward with her argument. "You need to take some time for yourself, Dana. And you need to take some time to spend with Fox - to remember what it means to be a couple, not just a mommy and a daddy. You can't spend every moment of every day with this baby. Let me help you with that. Leave William with me and take a little time to remember who you are." "Mom. I can't." She jumped to her feet and walked to the bureau. "You don't understand... you can't understand. Our lives are not normal!" She watched her mother's face in the mirror. "My son's life has been in danger from the very moment of his conception and I can't let down my guard. I can't leave him with you because you are too trusting... you haven't seen what I've seen and I thank God for that. But you have to believe me when I tell you that..." Her voice was rising in pitch and William was again fussing. Margaret whispered softly to the baby and shot a fierce look toward her daughter. Scully lowered her voice. Her hands fumbled with a tube of lipstick and the change that Mulder had dumped onto the bureau top when he had emptied his pockets. "It is my job to protect this child - MY child! You have no idea of the risks I went through to bring him into this world safely. No idea of the people who threatened to rip him away from me before he was born and after. I love you Mom and I wish that our world was the same world in which you raised your family or the same world in which Bill and Tara are raising their family but it's not! It never will be. I don't have the luxury of believing that every person who approaches us wants nothing more than to coo over and admire my child. I can't leave him alone and unprotected. I won't." She paused and sucked in a deep breath, hurrying to finish before her mother could interrupt. "As for my relationship with Mulder..." She raked her fingers through her hair and sighed heavily. "I'm not sure what's going on there either. Before he disappeared we had only been..." For a moment, Scully indulged herself with the memories of the time she and Mulder had shared before he had been torn away from her. Her eyes were stormy but her voice was cool when she spoke again. "What's between Mulder and me is private and we'll work it out in our own time." Margaret recognized the expression on her daughter's face well enough to know that she had been told to mind her own business. Well. She had said her piece and she would let it rest. For now. "Fair enough." Margaret stood and handed William into his mother's waiting arms. "You're worried about William's health and safety. I respect that. I understand that." She cupped her daughter's face between her hands. "Just remember, Dana... you are MY baby girl, and I reserve the right to worry about your health and safety." She kissed Scully on the forehead and then on the tip of her nose in a ritual begun at a time when her daughter was as tiny as the infant nestled safely in her now-adult arms. "Call me during the week." She pulled open the bedroom door and walked into the living room to gather her things. Scully stood in the tiny hallway and watched Mulder walk her mother to the front door. "I'll see you on Friday." Scully's voice was hesitant as she sought a way to reconcile with her mother. Margaret looked over her shoulder and nodded. "Friday," she confirmed. Mulder waited until Margaret had turned the corner of the hallway before closing and locking the door. He turned in time to see Scully and William disappear back into the bedroom. He sighed, knowing that tonight's conversations were not yet over. Not by a long shot. ~ Chapter Seven ~ Mulder was sprawled at one end of the sofa. Remote control in hand, he idly clicked through the seventy or eighty channels provided by their cable company, pausing briefly on every sports channel before moving on to the next. After her mother's departure, Scully had spent most of the evening avoiding him. He had watched her finish folding the laundry, straighten up the living room, mop the kitchen floor... endless tasks to avoid a discussion she didn't want to have. He turned off the television and climbed to his feet. He stood in the doorway to the nursery and watched her lay the baby into his crib. He crossed the room and pulled a light blanket over William's sleeping form and then caught Scully's wrist in his hand. "Mulder..." She looked up questioningly and he held his forefinger over his lips. Inclining his head toward the door, he tugged her along behind him to their bedroom. Pausing in the hallway, he pulled the door to the nursery closed behind them. "Mulder, I still have things..." Her eyes widened when he laid his fingers over her lips. "I just want to talk with you for a couple of minutes," he told her. "You've been avoiding me all evening." Her breath was a warm sigh of agreement against his fingertips and his hand fell away from her mouth. He clasped both of her hands in his and leaned close to meet her gaze. "We weren't trying to gang up on you," he began and shook his head when she opened her mouth to interrupt. "No, let me finish." He tightened his hands around hers. "Your mother and I are both concerned that you're taking on too much and we want to help you." Scully's eyes fell away from his and fixed on one of the buttons of his shirt. "A couple of months ago you sat in the kitchen and told me that you thought I was doing an amazing job. That you liked the idea of me being home for William and for you." She looked up in confusion. "What's happened to change all of that?" "Oh, Scully." He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her into a warm embrace. "I do love the fact that you are here for us. I just... I don't want you to forget to take care of yourself. I want you to let me help you. I want to take care of you the way you take care of me." He cradled her head between his hands and swept his thumbs over her temples. "I miss us," he admitted sheepishly. "I know everything is different now and things will never be the way they were before. But I don't know who we are to each other anymore. I want to find out." His attention was riveted by the sight of her tongue nervously darting out to wet suddenly dry lips. He lowered his head and let his tongue trace along the moist path left behind by hers. He felt a shiver ripple through her body and he pulled her close, pressing the proof of his arousal into her belly. "Scully," he whispered. "Kiss me." Her stomach clenched into a knot at his words. He was right. Everything was different. What if this was different as well? What if he undressed her and found her body different? Lacking? Unappealing? She forced herself to look at him and in his eyes she saw so many things. Pleading. Hope. Love. Fear. He was letting her take the step, to say yes or no. She had never rejected him before. She wouldn't start now. Mulder's heart pounded as she slid her hands up his chest to link around his neck. She stretched up on her toes raising her lips to his. Their lips brushed against each other, clung for a moment and then they broke apart. She was trembling... or maybe he was the one trembling - he couldn't tell. He bent forward again and their second kiss was frantic. Mouths clashed and tongues dueled for supremacy. His hand slipped down and grabbed onto her thigh as she wrapped one leg around his hips. They lost their balance and tumbled onto the bed. Frenzied hands tore the clothing away from their bodies and he settled into the cradle of her hips. In the darkness of the bedroom, he mapped the changes of her body with his lips and hands. He spread his hands over the heavy fullness of her breasts and lowered his lips to one nipple. Fingers lightly squeezing and lips suckling at the ripe tip, he pulled back, startled when her milk let down with a rush. "Oh God!" She struggled beneath him. "I'm so sorry." Her voice was tight with embarrassment. She could feel the warm milk trickling between her breasts, soaking into the sheets beneath her body. She shifted miserably against him. "It's okay," he whispered soothingly. Surprised, entranced and curious, he lowered his mouth to her breast again but halted when he felt her stiffen beneath him. "Okay." His mouth changed direction and he feathered his lips over her hairline. "Okay," he murmured again. "We won't do that," he promised. He continued to whisper kisses over her forehead and cheek. When he felt the rigidity leave her body, he sought out her mouth for a long, lingering kiss. Scully's hands slid over his shoulders and settled into the hollow at the base of his spine. She could feel his erection prodding insistently against her and she arched her hips up to meet his. "Scully!" He hissed her name and ground his pelvis against her. "I want to be inside of you," he rumbled into her hair. She shivered and wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself to him. She gasped as he entered her the first, tiny bit, burying her lips against his throat to stifle the cry that swelled in her throat as he pushed into her. She had thought she was ready and was unprepared for the burning pain of his body thrusting into hers. "Oh God! Are you alright?" He lifted his face from the tangled nest of her hair and held himself still within her. She nodded and forced herself to relax. He held back, waiting for her to tell him that it was okay to continue. Scully slid her hands from the small of his back to the firm swells of his behind, pulling him toward her, pushing him deeper inside. "It's okay, Mulder," she reassured him. He watched her face for another second or two, looking for signs of continued discomfort. Finding none, he began to move. Scully clung to him with legs and arms. She whispered in his ear, urging him on and he lost himself in the sound of her voice and the soft, sweet feel of her body moving beneath him. He gritted his teeth, holding back, trying to wait for her. Scully opened her eyes and saw the grimace etched on his face and the tendons standing out in his neck. She felt the shudders racing up and down his spine and saw the way his arms trembled on either side of her head. She knew that he was waiting for her, just as she knew that it wasn't going to happen for her. Not tonight. She moaned softly and his eyes popped open. "Scully..." He said her name through clenched teeth. "Are you close?" She nodded and tightened her arms and legs around him. She arched her back and bore down on him with her inner muscles and she groaned out his name. And God help her... she faked her orgasm. Mulder gasped as her body clenched around him and he buried his face in her hair again. He thrust his hips against her, pushing himself deeper and deeper, emptying his heart and soul and seed into her waiting body, collapsing against her as he spent himself. Scully ran soothing hands over his back and into the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. Her lips trailed over his jaw and neck in a series of tiny kisses and she let her body relax into the tangled sheets of the bed. Mulder stirred and pushed himself onto his elbows. He ran his hand over her cheek, pushing damp strands of hair behind her ear. His eyes roved over her face before meeting her gaze. In his eyes, Scully realized that he knew the truth of her lie. His mouth drooped with disappointment and she read the sadness in the hazel depths of his gaze. She winced slightly as he withdrew from her body and she bit back a sob when he rolled onto his side without pulling her into his arms. "Goodnight, Scully," he whispered into the darkness. She laid one hand on the satiny skin of his back, repentance heavy in her voice. "Goodnight, Mulder." Scully left her hand on him, desperate to maintain some kind of contact with him so that he would know that she hadn't rejected him. She felt his muscles relax as sleep claimed him and when his torso rose and fell beneath her hand in a steady rhythm, she slid out of the bed. She picked their clothes up from the floor and drew his shirt over her nakedness. She stood at the foot of the bed and watched him sleep and she relived that moment when she had lied to him with her body. Another failure to add to what was an ever- growing list. Scully walked around the bed, tugging the sheet over his hips and pressed her lips to his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she mouthed against his warm flesh. Straightening, she turned away from him and left their bedroom. She pushed open the nursery door and crept into the room lit only by the tiny nightlight in the corner. She took up her nightly position in the rocker near the crib and she waited. ~ Chapter Eight ~ Scully shouldered her way through the apartment door. She had one hand wrapped around the handle of William's carrier seat, her purse, the diaper bag and her keys in the other hand. She kicked a foot out at the door and it swung shut behind her with a satisfying bang. William's face screwed up and Scully's lips moved in a soundless prayer. She sagged with relief when he settled back into a restless sleep, grateful that she hadn't awakened him. The baby had been crying almost constantly for two days and they had just returned home from a wasted trip to the pediatrician's office. Scully dropped her bags and keys onto the floor and set William's carrier seat onto the coffee table. Bending down, she unsnapped the safety harness and carefully lifted him into her arms. William snuffled and rubbed tiny fists against his blotchy cheeks as Scully carried him into the nursery. She eased him into the crib and crept quietly from the room. Her poor baby. Scully was exhausted. The trip to the pediatrician's office had been a disaster and she bristled at the memory of Dr. Graffin's patronizing voice. "William is perfectly healthy, Mrs. Mulder," the young pediatrician said. Scully ground her teeth and shook her head. "Well, something is wrong," she said. "He's been fussy and crying almost non-stop for two days." She was exasperated by the young doctor's callous disregard for her child's distress. "Colic?" "William is three months old," Dr. Graffin said. "Colic is usually at its worst when the child is around six to eight weeks old and generally ends when the baby is three months old," he said. "He doesn't have colic." Scully closed her eyes at the doctor's condescending tone. "Surely it isn't unheard of for a three month old to suffer from colic," she said reasonably. Dr. Graffin tugged William's tiny T-shirt down and lifted the baby into his arms. "No. It's not unheard of. But in my experience, I've never seen a three month old develop a sudden case of colic." 'That would be what? In the three whole weeks that you've been practicing since you graduated from medical school?' Scully thought snidely. She took William into her arms as the doctor held the baby out to her. "Listen, Mrs. Mulder. I don't know what else to tell you. William is a perfectly healthy baby. The best thing you can do is to just go home and relax. Leave him with a sitter and get out of the house for a little while. If you want him to be calm, you need to be calm." Scully snatched up her purse and the diaper bag, checking quickly to be sure that William's sweater was tucked into the bag. "Fine. I'll figure it out myself," she muttered. She grabbed the door by the handle and yanked it open. "Oh. And it's not Mrs. Mulder," she told him tersely. "It's Doctor Scully." She pulled the door closed behind her and stalked through the waiting room filled with anxious parents and fussing children. Scully rubbed her hands over her face and glanced around the apartment. It was just about noon and she still had a mountain of laundry and dirty dishes that needed to be washed. If she hurried... An hour later she had finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. One load of laundry was tumbling in the dryer and a second load was dizzily spinning in the washing machine. Scully sat down at the desk and booted up her computer. She spent the next several hours shuttling between loads of wash, feeding and comforting William and studying everything she could find on the Internet about colicky babies and crying babies. ************ For the next two days Scully tried every suggested "cure" for a crying baby that she had discovered while surfing the 'Net. Her arms ached from carrying him everywhere. She rocked. She walked. She swayed and danced. She threw a soft towel into the dryer for a few minutes, then swaddled his tiny body into the warm terrycloth folds. She carried him in a sling against her chest. She tried holding him in different positions. High over her shoulder so his tummy was pressed against her shoulder bone. Facedown over her forearm as she rubbed his back. She wrapped a hot water bottle in a towel and tucked it into his crib sheets. She let him nurse as often as he wanted. She stripped them both out of their clothes and climbed into a warm shower. Skin-to-skin contact, the website recommended. She massaged his tiny body with baby oil. She stroked gentle fingers over his eyebrows, around his teensy earlobes and along his sweet, button nose. She whispered soft words of comfort. And inside she felt like screaming. She tried every suggestion offered by the various websites and she remembered one in particular reminding the parents that they were not to blame for a colicky or crying baby... but Scully knew that wasn't true. It had to be her fault. Something was wrong with her baby and she was helpless to do anything about it. Nothing that she tried, none of the suggested remedies helped. William responded to one thing and one thing only. His father. Mulder had only to walk into the apartment and say hello and his son's tears would dry up and a cheerful smile would spread over his tiny features. Listening to William's happy gurgles as he kicked and squirmed under his father's playful fingers, Scully knew that she was failing as a parent. Each day, she struggled to finish all of her housework while carrying a sobbing baby around the apartment so that Mulder wouldn't suspect that she was as inept at keeping a comfortable home as she was at being a good mother. She was jealous of Mulder's easy relationship with William and the baby's obvious preference for his father's embrace. She hated the sound of her baby's cry. And she hated herself. ************** On Friday, Mulder left the Center early. It was Memorial Day weekend and he had booked a hotel room in Annapolis. He wanted to get Scully out of the apartment and away from the routine that he believed she had become mired in. He hoped that a weekend away - just the three of them - eating in restaurants and letting someone else do the cooking and cleaning, relaxing in Adirondack chairs near the docks, watching the boats slip in and out of the harbor, would give her the break he felt she needed. He strode down the hallway toward their apartment and quickly went through a mental checklist of things that needed to be done before they could leave. He had factored in an hour of arguing with and cajoling Scully into agreeing to go away, but he was hoping that it would take less time. He wanted to beat the worst of the holiday weekend traffic. Mulder pushed his key into the lock and shoved the door open. Immediately, his ears were assaulted by the high-pitched wails coming from the baby's room. He threw his backpack onto the floor and hurried into the nursery. William was lying in his crib, sobbing uncontrollably. His entire body was shaking with the force of his sobs and tears raced down his chubby cheeks. "Hey there." Mulder pitched his voice over his son's angry shrieks. "Hey, there little guy. What's wrong?" Mulder looked around the room. "Where's your Mommy?" He scooped the baby out of the crib and held him against his shoulder. He smoothed his hand over the infant's trembling back and closed his eyes as William burrowed his face into his father's neck. Bouncing the baby soothingly in his arms, Mulder walked out of the nursery. "Scully?" He glanced quickly around the living room and poked his head into the kitchen. "Scully?" Fear sharpened his voice as he pushed open the door to their empty bedroom. A noise from the bathroom caught his attention and he hurried to investigate. At first glance the room appeared to be as empty as all of the others, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Mulder reached out and tugged back the shower curtain. Scully was sitting in the empty tub, her knees drawn up to her chest. She had her face buried in the denim covering her legs and her hands were clamped over her ears. "Scully!" Mulder reached out with one hand and tugged her hand away from her ear. "What the hell is going on?" Scully lifted a tear-stained face to find Mulder looming over her, a now whimpering William held safely in his arms. She was struck once again by the stunning resemblance between father and son, never more evident to her than at that moment, when they stared at her with identical accusatory looks in their hazel eyes. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled out of the tub. "I..." Scully lifted a hand towards William but the little boy pressed his cheek against Mulder's chest and her hand fell limply to her side. "I can't. I ca..." Her voice broke on a sob and she pushed her way past Mulder. He watched in stunned confusion from the bathroom as she barreled through the living room, ripping the front door open and disappearing from sight. "Scully!" He followed her into the hallway in time to see the elevator doors closing behind her. "SCULLY!" William flinched at the raised sound of his father's voice and fresh tears trembled on his lashes, spilling down his cheeks. Mulder took two steps down the hallway, intent on following Scully. He looked down into his son's distraught face. The baby was hiccupping and trembling in his arms. William was dressed only in a T-shirt and clean diaper. The day was pleasantly warm, but Mulder couldn't take him outside half-dressed and sobbing so piteously. He cuddled the child against his chest and murmured to him gently. Mulder calmed the baby with the familiar, soothing sound of his voice while fear for Scully was tying his own stomach into knots. ~ Chapter Nine ~ Scully ran out of the apartment building and stumbled down the steps. She stood on the sidewalk and glanced wildly about her, squinting against the late afternoon sunshine. And then she began to walk - unmindful of the direction she took. She just put one foot in front of the other and with every step, she moved faster and faster until finally, she was running. Her sneaker- clad feet slapped against the cement as she raced through the streets, oblivious to the startled glances thrown her way by the people that she passed. She didn't get far before exhaustion claimed her. She had never gotten back into the peak physical shape she had been in before her pregnancy. Her days were so chaotic - she'd had no time to really exercise. Mulder had suggested that they invest in a jogging stroller, but Scully had rejected the idea. She didn't like the thought of running with William, unprotected. She preferred the relative safety of the glass and metal walls of the car. Wheezing, Scully staggered to halt. Sweat poured down her neck and back, soaking her shirt. Her milk-heavy breasts - clad only in a nursing bra, not a sports bra - ached. Her limbs were leaden and her heart was pounding wildly. Pressing the flat of her hand between her breasts and gasping for air, she looked up and saw that her headlong race from her home had brought her to the steps of her parish church. Her fingers slid to her throat in search of the gold cross she always wore and found only overheated, damp skin. She remembered that she had taken the cross off a few weeks ago to protect it from William's curious fingers. On fatigued legs, Scully climbed the stone steps that led to the church. She released an unconscious sigh of relief when the doors yielded to her tugging fingers and swung open. Scully stepped into the dimly lit sanctuary. She automatically dipped her fingers into the holy water font near the doors and made a quick sign of the cross. The church was empty and her sneakers squeaked as she made her way up the freshly polished aisle. Scully was drawn to the left of the main altar. She braced her hands on the altar rail and looked up. The Madonna's white-marbled face was tranquil and in her arms, a small babe slept trustingly against her shoulder. There had been many times in the past eight years when Scully had felt her faith failing her... when she had feared that God had turned His back on her. Yet each time she found herself holding vigil by Mulder's hospital bed, or while searching for him when he was missing, or even while cradling him in her arms when stranded on a polar icecap, she found the prayers of her childhood escaping her lips. "Hail Mary, full of grace..." Now, she sank onto the padded kneeler and lowered her face onto her clasped hands. "Blessed is the fruit of thy womb..." Scully lifted a tear-stained face upward. "Help me," she whispered plaintively. Her gaze was locked onto the gentle visage of the marble statue and she felt a connection to this woman who had lived thousands of years ago and yet who had grappled with so many of the same fears which Scully now faced. Both women - pregnant when everything in science and nature told them that it was not possible. "I'm so afraid," she whispered. "Every minute of every day." Scully raised a shaking hand to her forehead and tried to rub away the headache that lingered there. "Afraid that I'm not enough... that I'm not taking care of him the right way. That I'm not loving him enough; protecting him enough. I'm afraid that he'll know what I know... that I can't do the job." She dashed away the tears that trickled down her face. Scully closed her eyes. William was a normal, human baby. Her baby. Mulder's baby. That's what science told her. But she couldn't wipe the memories of Krycek's ominous warnings from her mind. . Every night when she lay William in his crib and took up watch in the rocking chair in his room, she remembered those words. They tortured her through the nights and lingered in the back of her mind during the days. There was little she could do to protect her child, except to never let him out of her sight and to try to provide a perfect home for him, be a perfect mother to him. And she felt that she was failing miserably on all counts. "How did you do it?" she whispered, turning her gaze upward again. "How did you live with the thought that you child might be meant for greater things? How did you help Him grow? How did you let Him go when the time came?" she asked. "How... please. How did you cope with the fear?" Once again, Scully's head bowed forward to rest on her hands. Weariness swept over her and her eyes fluttered shut. Rest, came a voice from deep inside of her. Rest now. ************ Mulder glanced up into the rearview mirror. "We'll find her soon, buddy," he promised the fussy baby strapped into the car seat. He had hurried back into the apartment and when William's sobs had trailed off to the occasional shiver, had finished dressing the boy. Stay calm, Mulder admonished himself. She couldn't have gone very far. She had left her wallet and car keys on the table behind the sofa. He and William had been driving around the neighborhood for about twenty- five minutes, searching for any sign of Scully. Mulder had no idea what direction she had taken but she hadn't been gone more than an hour. She was on foot and he knew he would find her soon. He and William had already searched one end of the neighborhood. Now they were searching the other. Mulder made a right hand turn and his eyes swept the street for her beloved petite figure. He drove slowly down the street and started to make another turn when the distant spire of a church steeple caught his attention. Minutes later he was carrying William up the stone steps of the old church. He tugged open the heavy wooden doors and looked into the dim interior. Sighing, he stepped back outside, pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed. "I found her," he told an anxious Margaret Scully. ************ Scully lifted her head blearily from her arms. She had actually dozed off for a few minutes. She blinked and scrubbed her hands over hr face. Her breasts ached... William must be hungry, she thought. She looked up again into the gentle face carved out of marble and felt a tiny stirring of courage. While she dozed, she had seen Mulder and William. Father and son - so alike in looks and manner. Their faces had not been accusing, but rather, gentle and loving. "They are everything I ever wanted," she whispered. "They are my miracles... mine to care for, mine to protect." Scully slipped her hand into the pocket of her jeans, dug out several crumpled dollar bills and stuffed them into the offertory box attached to the stand of votive candles placed at the base of the altar. She lifted a taper out of the bucket of sand and touched it to the flame of a lit candle. Her hand was trembling as she lit three small votives and she looked up to find Mulder and William watching silently from several feet away. Mulder walked closer and held out one hand to her. Scully placed her free hand into his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. The flickering flames from the rack of candles lighted their faces. "Don't leave us," Mulder whispered. "Whatever is wrong, Scully, we'll find a way to fix it. Together." His hand tightened around hers. "We're no good apart," he reminded her. Scully looked into Mulder's eyes and then turned her attention to William. The baby was sucking on his fingers and studying his mother's face with the same solemn intensity as his father. "Don't leave us," Mulder whispered again. Scully stroked her free hand over the dark tufts of hair on the baby's head and stepped closer. Still clasping her other hand in his, Mulder wrapped their arms around her waist. "Okay," Scully said on a shaky sigh. "Okay," she nodded. Mulder pressed his lips to her temple. "Let's go home." *********** Epilogue November, 2001 Scully leaned comfortably against the soft cushions of the sofa and took a sip of tea from her cup. "Tell me, Dana. Do you have big plans for the holiday?" Dr. Virginia Monroe smiled and sipped her own tea. "No, Ginny." Scully crossed one leg over the other. "Mulder and I discussed it and we decided to enjoy a quiet family dinner, just the three of us. It's William's first Thanksgiving." Ginny Monroe nodded approvingly. "And your mother?" Scully smiled. "She's flying out to California to spend the holiday with my brother and his family. We'll see all of them at her house on Christmas Day." "So, tell me about your plans," the doctor encouraged. Scully smoothed one hand over her pants and smiled. "Mulder suggested that we go out to a restaurant for dinner, but I'd rather spend the day at home." "Sounds like Mulder just wants to make the day easy on you," Ginny pointed out. "I know. And I appreciate it," Scully said. "But I told him that it's time that we began our own family traditions. I'd like to start that by making Thanksgiving dinner." She laughed. "A small dinner, mind you." Ginny laughed with her. "I think that's a lovely idea." "I'm looking forward to it," Scully admitted. "Dana, do you remember what we talked about at our first session?" Ginny switched gears abruptly. Scully cradled her teacup between her hands, enjoying the warmth seeping through the fragile porcelain. "I told you that I thought I was a complete failure as a mother... and as a mate to Mulder." Scully looked at the therapist with calm eyes. "You were afraid - all of the time." Ginny prompted. Scully nodded again. "Yes. I was... overwhelmed by the enormity of the work of being a full-time mother, of protecting William from threats, both real and imagined. Being a stay-at-home mom was more difficult than anything I had done before. I worked three times harder at it than I did anything else I had ever done in my life and I still believed that I was failing miserably." "And now?" Dr. Monroe asked. "What do you think now?" Scully glanced around the room before returning her gaze to the therapist's face. "Now I think that I was unprepared for the realities of what being a mother entailed. I thought that I had to do all of it alone and I was putting enormous pressure on myself to be perfect. I was shutting Mulder out, making myself crazy and miserable and transferring that misery onto the two people I love the most in the world." The therapist remained silent and Scully leaned forward to set her teacup into the saucer on the coffee table. "I've always been a perfectionist. Organized, detail- oriented. Hard on myself. I never allowed for the thought that there might be something hormonally wrong with me... physically wrong. I didn't recognize the warning signs and I ended up putting even more pressure on myself to be perfect when everything started to fall apart." Ginny looked down at the file in her hands. "How do you feel now?" she asked. "What's different now?" Scully bit her lip and thought back over the last six months. She and Mulder had spent that Memorial Day weekend talking and crying and trying desperately to sort things out. Scully knew that something was wrong - that her reactions were distorted - and had agreed to begin seeing a therapist. With the help of her OB/GYN, she had begun weekly appointments with Ginny. Two months ago the visits had been cut back to every other week. "Now I know that Mulder and William don't expect perfection from me. Our home isn't perfect. Sometimes the laundry piles up. Sometimes I fall behind and I have to order a pizza for dinner. And now I know that it's okay to do that on occasion. I've learned how to take the pressure off myself." "And how does that feel?" Dr. Monroe asked. "Freeing." Scully replied promptly. "It's not a picture perfect life," she admitted. "But it's working well for us." Ginny smiled and made a couple of notes in the file. "That's good," she said as she closed the file. "Because I'm ready to cut you loose." She smiled at Scully's started expression. "How do you feel about that?" The therapist watched her patient's face closely. She saw a moment's panic flare in the blue eyes staring at her. But then the tension that had suddenly gripped her, fled. Her shoulders loosened and her expression grew calm. "I feel... ready." Ginny smiled and stood. Scully followed suit and also rose to her feet. "Good." The therapist held out her hand and Scully clasped it between both of hers. "You know, of course, Dana, that you should feel free to call me at anytime." Scully nodded and hitched the strap of her purse onto her shoulder. "Ginny... I can never thank you enough." Though tears stood in her eyes, her smile was bright. Ginny followed her now-former patient to the outer office. "You take good care of that family of yours," she said as Scully shrugged into her coat. "I will," Scully promised. She tugged the door open and stepped into the hallway. Ginny Monroe leaned against the doorjamb. The bell chimed, announcing the arrival of the elevator. "And don't forget to let your family take care of you," she admonished gently. Scully held the elevator doors open and turned back to face the other woman. "I promise, Doctor." She stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind her. Ginny pushed away from the door and walked back into her office with a satisfied sigh. ************** Mulder was asleep on the sofa when Scully arrived home. She shed her coat and hung it on the rack near the door. She picked her way through the maze of half- packed moving boxes and stifled a sigh at the thought of all of the packing that still remained. If all went well, they would be in the new house a week before Thanksgiving. Scully plucked the remote control from Mulder's limp fingers and turned the volume of the college football game down. Mulder stirred and peered at her sleepily. "Hey," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm packing," he promised. "I was just taking a break." Scully ruffled her fingers through his hair. "It's okay," she replied. "Go back to sleep for a little while." Mulder nodded and buried his face in the sofa cushions. Scully set her purse down on the table behind the sofa and continued across the room. "Hi, Baby," she said. William was sitting in his playpen, surrounded by a small army of stuffed animals and plastic blocks. Scully stooped down and picked up the toys that littered the floor around the small enclosure. She dumped them into one corner of the playpen. "Have you been throwing your toys again?" she asked in mock-stern voice. William smiled a gummy grin and proudly displayed two tiny white teeth. Scully planted her hands on her hips and shook her head at her incorrigible offspring. "Do you think you can get around me with a smile?" she asked. William wrapped tiny fingers into the mesh walls of the playpen and he pulled himself to his feet. "Mum-mum-mum-MUM!" William shrieked. He let go and waved his hands in the air. The little boy swayed unsteadily and plopped down onto his diapered behind. His little mouth turned down in a pout so like his father's that Scully couldn't help but laugh. Leaning forward, she scooped him into her arms and cuddled him close. The baby snuggled his face into the crook of her neck and released a huge yawn. "Naptime," Scully announced. She carried him into the nursery and laid him into his crib. She pulled the blankets up from the bottom of the crib and covered him. Scully picked up the soft yellow giraffe that was William's favorite sleeping companion and tapped it lightly against his forehead. William's eyes widened, his brows arching in surprise before he giggled sleepily. And for the first time since his birth, Scully saw a little something of herself in her child. She smiled broadly and lowered the rail of the crib. "Sleep well, sweetie," she whispered as she brushed her lips over his forehead. She snapped the rail back into place and twisted the dial on the musical mobile that danced over the baby's crib before leaving the room. Scully went into her bedroom and began pulling clothing from the closet. She was folding sweaters and putting them into a box when she heard the door open behind her. "Is he asleep?" Mulder asked as he crossed the threshold. Scully nodded and turned back to the sweaters. Mulder sat on the edge of the mattress. "How did your appointment go?" he asked, as he did each time she returned from Ginny's office. Scully placed the sweater she had just folded into the box and curled her fingers around the edge of the cardboard rim. "It went well," she said. "As a matter-of-fact, it turns out it was my last appointment." Mulder's eyes widened and he whistled softly. "Wow, that's... what do you think of that?" he asked cautiously. He reached out and grabbed Scully by the wrist, pulling her between his legs. Scully set one hand onto his shoulder and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead with the other. "I think that I still have a lot of hard work ahead of me," she said slowly. "But, I also think that I'm ready to try it on my own." Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist. "Not alone," he reminded her. Scully tilted her head to one side and smiled softly. "No. Not alone," she agreed. Mulder tightened his arms around her and tugged her down onto the mattress beside him. He loomed over her. "So," he asked as his fingers moved to the buttons of her sweater. "How long do you think he'll sleep?" His hands slid under the sweater to flirt with the lacy edges of her bra. Scully thought of all the packing that still had to be done before the moving van arrived in three days. "Muulllddder," she protested. "Sccculllyy," he whined against her lips. Scully placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and pushed him away. She sat up and looked around at the boxes stacked in the corner of the room. She sighed and felt Mulder sit up next to her. Scully moved quickly, pushing him onto his back on top of the mattress and climbing on top of him. "He should sleep for at least an hour." She leaned down and her hair fell in a shimmering curtain around them as their lips met again. Mulder moaned loudly as her tongue flirted with the corner of his mouth. "Shh," Scully admonished. "He may sleep longer if we're quiet," she told him. Mulder grinned against her mouth. "Yeah?" He rolled her onto her back and nudged her thighs apart with his knee. Scully wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his body flush against her own. She parted her lips beneath his. "Yeah," she breathed into his mouth. The packing, she decided, would wait. The End. Author's Notes: A few months ago I was complaining to Char that I couldn't come up with a story idea that I found interesting enough to write. She told me that she would like to see me try my hand at writing a story where Scully struggles with post-partum depression and how that might affect this new family. *I* struggled to find a way to write a story where they find themselves in this strange, new and oftentimes frightening world, and yet still keep the characters recognizable to me and to the readers. I hope I've done so. And so, my gratitude goes to Char, not only for the idea, but for her very dear friendship and good counsel throughout the writing process. To David for listening to me kvetch about this story for months and for constantly supporting the idea when I thought I had run astray. And, of course, to Aly. Thank you for all that you do. I would love to hear what you thought of this story at tnv099@aol.com This and all of my other stories can be found at http://tessfiles.envy.nu