Chapter 4

He knows.

Yes, it’s just as I said: he knows.

After all my worrying about how to tell him, nature decided I was taking to long
and went ahead and told him for me.

Things were going well. After bursting into tears in front of my mother, she
became my support. I still hadn’t told Mulder yet, and she don’t say anything, although I know she wanted to. Her look was enough. I had to tell him soon. That I knew.

I was now in the middle of my second month, now about 10 and half weeks along.
The morning sickness is still there. It’s bad on some days; better on others. I’m still stuck on my coffee breakfast. My brain tells me that coffee is no where near enough for a breakfast for two, but my stomach always has other ideas.

Still fate wanted my secret out.

We were on another case, doing another background check. We didn’t go
anywhere like Ohio, in fact we were only in Maryland, a stone’s throw away from D.C.
Mulder still had no idea. In fact he spent the entire morning complaining about how the
FBI was trying to get him to resign.

He even pulled me near a Chinese restaurant. "How about after we do the FBI’s
dirty work, we go to lunch and blow the rest of the day off?"

I had to make a quick escape from near that restaurant before my morning sickness
once again reared its ugly head. Explaining to Mulder how I was okay after puking up on the sidewalk was not on my to do list today. Instead I walked quickly away from it saying nothing.

Mulder gave me a strange look. "Scully, are you okay?"

Not that question, Mulder. I give my usual answer.

"I’m fine. We should get this done."

Mulder eyed me for another minute before nodding.

The morning was slow. My stomach was on one of its bad days today. The
nausea was getting bad, and I was afraid I’d have to make a mad dash to the ladies room soon. We had to go by the DMV for some information and as soon as we got there, I knew I’d have to find a ladies room.

I made a flimsy excuse and hurried off. After loosing my coffee (the only thing I
had consumed that morning), I took a look at myself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes and a pale face were not attractive today. Splashing water on my face, I tried to will both the
nausea and dizziness I was feeling away.

I walked out of the restroom and found Mulder talking to the woman behind the
desk. I bypassed the long line of people renewing their driving licensees to make to over to him. As I passed them, I began to feel a little light-headed. I credited it to the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything all day. A glance at my watch told me it was 11 a.m. My stomach tended to settle itself around 12, 1 o’clock, so hopefully I would keep something down then. Hopefully.

I shook my head as the light-headedness seemed to increase. Maybe I should get
something to eat, no matter whether it says down or not.

I’m not sure what happened next, but I know I must have stumbled. Next thing I
knew Mulder was by my side, calling my name. It sounded so far away. Pretty soon
things went black.

The sounds were the first thing that came back, slowing filtering into my brain.
The bustle of people walking by, the distant sounds of a loudspeaker. The smell came
next. It was antiseptic and I knew at once I was in the hospital.

Damn it. I must have passed out. As soon as I opened my eyes I found a nurse
pushing some curtains back. At least I was still in the ER. That meant I probably wasn’t out for very long.

The nurse who had pulled the curtain back was now checking my vital signs. The
same old song and dance: blood pressure, temp, etc.

"Look who’s awake."

Damn, she was a perky nurse. Just what I needed now. She did her job and
looked up at me shaking her head.

"You worried your poor husband to death," she continued.


"He was very worried. Gave this whole song and dance about cancer. He nearly
fainted when the doctor told him it was only your coffee breakfasts and morning sickness due to the pregnancy that were the cause of your fainting spell. Turned sheet white, like he was about to pass out. I had to grab a chair quick and push his head between his knees before he was okay again."

My husband? Turned sheet white when he found out I was pregnant?? Oh my

I think I turned sheet white then because the next thing the nurse was saying was
that she was going to get the doctor.

"No, I’m okay," I manage to get out.

The nurse smiled. "I figured you never told him. Well, if it helps, he reacted
better then my husband when he found out I was pregnant. Nearly tore up the house.
And _I_ told him."

I want to tell this woman that Mulder’s not my husband, that we’re not even
together, but the words don’t seem to want to come out.

"I’m going to get the doctor, anyway. He wanted to know when you came to.
And I’m sure your husband will want to see you as well."

Would she stop calling him my husband!?

I have no idea what to do now. Mulder knew, and from what I had heard, hadn’t
taken it well. He knew he was the father. Hell, all he had to do was the math. And I
don’t exactly get around, in fact I haven’t had sex in six years. I could have probably
considered myself near nunhood until that night with Mulder. That night that was…….

Oh my God, what am I going to do now?

I don’t have much time to contemplate that thought, though. The doctor walks in,
a chart in his hands, and a Mulder behind him. One that’s looking at the floor, avoiding all eye contact with me, and is pale enough to consider checking himself in here as well.

I turn toward the wall like a coward. Guess neither of us is batting a thousand

The doctor begins his speech, which was really more like a lecture. Tells me
coffee is not what an expectant mother lives on, that if the nausea was really bad, I should have consulted my OB. Reprimands me, telling me that as a medical doctor I should know better. How’d he know I was a medical doctor? Guess Mulder told him that. I just listen, half-kicking myself in the ass for getting myself in the situation in the first place. If only I had taken better care of myself I could have……

Could have what Dana? Could have put off telling Mulder until the baby’s 30th
birthday? Maybe this was for the best.

Mulder’s pale complexion is telling me otherwise. Maybe I should talk to the
doctor about him.

The doctor beats me to it. "As long as you take better care of yourself, I think you
can avoid another situation like this. I suggest you talk to your OB about the nausea,
though." I nod, and he looks at Mulder, a bit concerned. "Are you all right, Mr.

Mulder looks up weakly. "I’m fine," he replied. "She’s the one I’m worried
about." He points to me, not even sure what to call me today. No "my partner." What is going to happen to us?

The doctor smiled. "Your wife will be fine, Mr. Mulder. She just needs some rest
and a normal breakfast." He gave a little wink. "I learned to cook by making my wife
breakfast during her first pregnancy." He gave a few instructions, and the nurse handed
me my clothes. He left me alone with Mulder.

I didn’t look at Mulder as I slowly swung my legs around. He didn’t look at me.
He turned away as I grabbed my blouse, but finally broke the cruel silence that had elapsed between us.

"I’m sorry I didn’t correct him when he called you my wife," Mulder started, still
turned away from me. "But they kept saying it over and over, and I thought it was a lost
cause." His voice is a bit distant, afraid. A new voice I’ve never heard before.

"It’s okay," I reply, not knowing what else I can say. I quickly finish dressing,
hurrying as I button the last buttons on my blouse.

"You can turn around," I say, not knowing if he really will. He does, slowly, with
caution. His eyes seem to stare at the wall for a moment, but finally they make their way toward me. I don’t turn away. We have to talk. We can’t go on like this; it just won’t work.

"Scully," he starts at the say time as I say, "Mulder."

We both pause, smiling briefly. "You go first," I urge him and he purses his lips,
and I can almost see his brain searching for the right question to ask. Just fire away,
Mulder. There is no right question in this game.

"How did you…, I mean you can’t…..?" He doesn’t even complete thought, but I
know what he means. I answer him, calmly. He deserves to hear something from me.

"I don’t know, Mulder. I didn’t think it could happen, either. But it did."


"Of course its yours, Mulder. I haven’t been very ‘active’ in the last weeks with
anyone else." Here it comes. The "night." I should know by now we would have to talk
about it sometime.

He pauses and takes a couple of steps closer toward me. He’s hesitant. I’ve never
seen Mulder so hesitant before. He always dived headfirst into other things; that’s how he always got hurt. This time, he’s using caution. I never thought he knew the meaning of the word before today. I decide to do something to let him know he doesn’t have to take so much caution. That’s it okay for us to talk. I had dreaded this moment from the
minute I found out I was pregnant, yet now I just want to get out in the open. My mind
has been changing its mind lately. Maybe these hormones aren’t all bad. Especially if they help get through this conversation.

I get up and grab Mulder’s hand.

"I’m not asking you to-"

He interrupts me. "I would never leave you or this baby," he defends.

"I didn’t say you would."

More silence.

"I’m just saying that you don’t have to feel obligated to-"

He grips my hand tighter. "I know." We both know. Know that we don’t have to
get married, that we don’t even have to live together. I should have never thought for a
minute that Mulder wouldn’t have wanted this baby. Though I can’t picture him as the
perfect father figure (hell, I never pictured myself as the perfect mother figure, either), I
should have known that he would never desert me. Our six year "relationship" may never have turned to a true "romance" (so to speak), but we had something that was better. Something that pushed him to go to the ends of the earth for me, literally, when I was in trouble. He went to Antarctica for me, surely he would at least support our baby. My heart tells he would do more. We don’t have to get married, we don’t have to live together, that’s not important now. The only thing that’s important is the life we both
created. The life that for some reason God wanted to be created. My miracle. My heart can’t help but hope that it’s _our_ miracle too.

Watch out Dana, one thing at a time. You can’t go and act like a lovesick
teenager. You have a baby on the way now.

And no wedding ring on my finger. Mulder is absently looking down at me, but
not at my face. I realize he’s looking toward my stomach. I don’t why, somehow I think
of this of an unMulderlike gesture. Still, I get a good feeling seeing this. Almost a feeling that thing will work out. That things will be okay.

There you go again, Dana. Dreaming is becoming my favorite pastime now. It’s
easier to dream about a great life then go and get one yourself.

I do something strange, then. Taking Mulder’s hand, I bring it up to my stomach
and smile.

"You’re not going to feel anything. It’s too early."

His face takes on a weird look when I do this. He lets his hand sit there, gently,
almost as if he was trying to read the contents inside. I’ve never seen it better, but he
looks……content, almost. Like he’s found something he’s been looking forever for. I
almost want to know who has replaced the Mulder I know with a pod person. He pulls
his hand away, and looks up at me.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concern suddenly on his face. "I mean I’ll drive you
home so that-"

"Slow down, Mulder. I’m fine. Just haven’t been taking as good as care of myself
as I should. I’ve never been pregnant before, plus I’ve spent too much time around your
bad habits."

He smiles, and leans in toward me. I can almost feel my heart skip a beat as I can
feel the heat of his body so close to mine. Why is he doing this? Are we okay? The
conversation we just had was so confusing I didn’t know what to think. Mulder had been
so distant, yet now he was… close. So very close. The pale face I have seen no longer that ten, fifteen minutes before was gone.

"Mulder?" I manage to say, with a bit of puzzlement. "We need to talk about his."

He nodded. "We do."

I’m silent again. I don’t where to begin. I glance around the room. Well, first
things first. I don’t want to have this conversation in an ER exam room, although it’s a
second home to us both. I just realized that we both need to get out more, or maybe a tad less.

"Mulder, we should get out of here." I reach toward the bed for my purse.
Suddenly he grabs my hand.

"Scully, you’re right. We need to talk about this."

Didn’t we just say that? We’re back to being inches apart from each other.
Mulder’s hazel eyes find my own and I suddenly find myself happy in the position I’m in.
Standing in an ER exam room, inches away from Mulder, his hand in mine. No wonder
the staff thought we were married. Was that what all people thought? Maybe I should go with the crowd.

Here I was pregnant. I had told my mother, and she was okay with it. A bit
disappointed at the fact I wasn’t married, but still supportive. Now Mulder knew, in a
situation I hoped to avoid. He nearly passed out at the doctor’s words, and now was
almost memorized by the situation. Maybe it was a reverse shock. I should look that up when I got home.

"You want to talk about this, Mulder. We will talk about it."

"I know, Scully." He pauses. "Six years together as partners, Scully. I wonder
what the office pool is up to now. Probably hundreds." His eyes are dancing, the
mischievous look I know so well is in them. "Do you want this, Scully?"

The question is simple, really, yet I can think of different "simple" meaning it could
mean. Like, did I want the baby. Yes. Or did the question mean something else?

"The baby? Of course I want the baby. It’s the one thing I thought I would never
had. I want it very much." This was true. I had never realized I wanted a baby until I
couldn’t have one. But isn’t that what they say about most things? You don’t realize you want them until you discover you can’t have them.

"No, Scully." Oh, God, _he’s_ going to bring it up. I never thought Mulder had
the guts. I never did. Even when I got pregnant.

"I don’t want to-"

"This isn’t about traps, Scully. This is about us. This is about-" He stops
suddenly and grabs both of my wrists. He leans in, and I know it’s going to happen.
Suddenly I feel like a high school girl waiting for her prom date to give her that one kiss
she will never forget.

Oh, and I certainly won’t forget _this_ kiss, either. He leans slowly, and I let him.
We’re locking lips before we know it, and neither of us pulls away. I don’t know how
much time passes by, but neither of us is willing to end the moment we are having right
now. Six years seemed like a mere waiting period for a product like this. Is this how it’s meant to be? Is this how it’s supposed to happen? My mind wants answers, but my heart already knows the answer.

Take it or leave it, Dana.

Hell, I think I’ll take it.

"Excuse me?"

We both look, like guilty teenagers caught red-handed by a parent.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just need you to sign the release forms." The nurse holds
out a clipboard and I stop and sign the bottom. She smiles.

"You’re free to go now." She begins to walk out, but stops at the door. "Oh, and

"Thank you," I mutter, watching the nurse walk out the door. I turn to Mulder.
"What just happened here?"

He looks at me. "I think we just made out."

I nod. "Mulder, I want to know-"

He interrupts me again. "Scully, why do you need an answer to everything?
Sometimes there isn’t one. I don’t know what will happen. But do we need to plan out
our entire future when it hasn’t even really begun yet? So let’s go get lunch. Your
choice. My treat."

He begins to walk out the door. I can feel another page turn in the story of my
life. Mulder knows I’m pregnant, we make-out in an exam room, and then we just go out to lunch. Were we a couple now? I didn’t know, but I smile.

Mulder’s right. I don’t need an answer. At least not now. I have a few months
ahead to plan everything. Today I was going to relax, and enjoy the first stress-free day
I’ve had in the last three months. This baby was hungry and so was I. I picked my purse and walked out the door after Mulder. Maybe we were a couple. Maybe everyone would think we were married. So what? Let them think that. Maybe that’s the way it was meant to be.

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