#msr fluff

But he should not have worried. His tie was a hit with Emily. Implications be damned, his partner lavished the girl in love whether she was meant for it or not. She didn’t retire or quit the FBI – not completely, at least. She took a couple of months family-leave to get settled, spending her days with her daughter as they acquainted themselves with one another, learning each-others routines and making new ones together. And even then, when they weren’t working together at all, she called him every day. Asked him for updates on cases, office gossip and the like. On weekends she’d invite him over. He’d help Emily lay the table, her wide eyes staring up at his giant’s body, enamoured with his stories and facial expressions and jokes, whilst her mother finished cooking a dinner that she hadn’t quite gotten right, but she’d tried and it still tasted okay, if a little too salty or a little too charred. He’d play with her and watch films with her and read her a story before tucking her into bed, giving her mother a couple hours respite to take a bath, read a book: relax.

And, when her family leave was up, she returned to him, to his dingy basement and his crackpot cases. And, even with her reduced hours, her rule of no cases on the weekends (unless ‘twas a matter of life or death) and her reluctance to travel too far away from home for longer than a night, she still turned up for him. Still shot down his proposals of moth-men and sasquatches and all other things that go bump in the night. Motherhood hadn’t changed the determination she held to prove him wrong, and for that he was grateful.

She had a (relatively) healthy, if a little shy (and traumatised), daughter who doted on the woman she still didn’t quite understand to be her mother. There had been no attempts on either of their lives, no regressions of Emily’s health and no contact from the consortium nor anybody else with nefarious motives. She was content - happy even – heartbreak furthest from her mind.

And even if there were still moments of apprehension and doubt on his part; well, he was paranoid – what could one truly expect? And in those moments, when he was certain Scully would realise that her time would be better spent with her daughter and not with her insane partner, she would offer him a smile and a choice of kid-friendly movies, give him the selection of Chinese, Thai or pizza, because Fridays always were and always would be for takeout and movies, even if that included one more person on the couch; often huddled between them, a small but significant reminder of boundary lines.

Often, when he’d helped put Emily to bed, washed up whilst she dried, divvied any remaining food into Tupperware, they’d sit on the couch, a few inches closer together, nursing mugs of tea or glasses of wine or bottles of beer, not saying much, just unwinding from the week in the company of another soul.

Occasionally, their evening would part with a kiss at the door; sometimes brief and sometimes lingering but always no more than a brush and a breath and a bump of their noses.

Once, she invited him to her bed. Muffled her moans and cries in the flesh of his shoulder because, Christ, it had been so long - since before her cancer, since before she knew she had a child – and Christ, it was better than she’d had in a while – oh lord had her love-life been sparse since she met him, but she didn’t remember it being this good. And oh, how she’d wanted to call to the heavens with his name, mingled with those of deities they were either side of the fence about, but there were small ears in the next room who woke at so much as the slightly loud thump of a book hitting the side table (again, potentially traumatised – they’d been visiting a therapist who specialised in children’s trauma once a week, and it did seem to be helping some, though sleeping through the night was often still a struggle).

After, as they coiled around one another, eyes both trained on unseeable things in their distant futures, the soft heat of bare skin on bare skin, she’d stiffened, uttered a soft ‘shit’ and sat up, looking at him in horror. ‘You’ve got to go,’ she hissed. ‘If Emily comes in here, she’ll see you and I can’t deal with the questions. She’s had so much change this last year, I’m not sure she’ll understand, or cope. You’ve got to go. Now.’

He wanted, of course, to suggest that it wasn’t Emily she was trying to protect from change but herself. But he had a few more brain cells functioning than he had moments ago and with a soft smile and a kiss pressed to her forehead, he granted her wish, slipped into his clothes and brushed his lips against hers before walking out of her door.

He would spend the whole weekend worrying, wearing a hole into the already worn carpet of his apartment, when she didn’t call, didn’t invite him over for their usual weekend adventures to the park or the zoo or the natural history museum.

She would turn up on his doorstep Sunday night, a pyjama-clad Emily on her dozing on her hip, a soft smile on her face. ‘She insisted she wouldn’t go to sleep until she made sure you weren’t sick and your fish were okay. She fell asleep in the car on the way over here.’

‘You could have just driven her home again.’

‘Then I wouldn’t have been able to make sure you weren’t sick and your fish were okay. I missed you.’

He took the child from her arms, almost four and – he swore – growing every day.

‘I missed you,’ she repeated, arms hanging limp at her side, watching as he carefully lay her daughter on his sofa by the burbling fish tank, covering her with the Navajo blanket that she herself had so often huddled in during her cancer.

‘You didn’t call.’

‘Neither did you.’

‘Touché,’ he nodded, ducked his head, ‘I wanted to give you time to process and think.’

‘The other night, what happened-‘ she cleared her throat, picked at a loose thread on her cardigan, ‘first, I want to thank you, and…look, it was amazing, there’s no way around that, but I don’t-‘

‘Think we should do it again?’

A sigh and a shake of her head, ‘I don’t want to complicate anything, Mulder. Not with you, not with work, not with Emily. She adores you, you know, and I-I love you both too much to complicate it.’

‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’

‘Mmm, okay. I can wait. I’ll wait until Emily’s ready, I’ll wait ‘til you’re ready; heck, I’d wait ‘til the end of the earth for you. I’m not going anywhere until you send me away.’ She smiled then, cheeks pinking with warmth, and he tapped her nose, ‘wanna stay for a sleepover? Plenty of room on the couch for you and Em, and I’ve got a blow-up mattress somewhere. That way she’ll be able to see that both me and the fish are fine, and you wouldn’t have to drive home and carry her back up to your apartment.’

She smiled, soft and sweet and warm, and nodded, ‘that would be nice. Thank you.’

They woke in the morning to Emily perched on the arm of the couch, telling the fish about their sleepover.

‘I hear there’s a birthday coming up. Any plans yet?’ he asked a week later, as he helped her into her coat and handed her briefcase.

‘Not yet. I want it to be special, you know, it’s her first birthday with me.’

‘It will be special. No matter what you do,’ he shrugged, holding the door for her as they left. ‘But, I do have one idea that might make it special.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, my mom asked me if I can go up to the house on the Vineyard, sort the attic out. I was thinking, it’ll be cold, but I imagine if she’s anything like her mother, Emily will love the beach no matter the weather. It’s a big house, plenty of rooms – you wouldn’t even have to see me the whole weekend if you didn’t want to. I just figured it might be nice for you both to get away from DC for a bit,’ he looked down at her as she studied the tips of her shoes, ‘you don’t have to, obviously, it was just an offer.’

She looked up at him, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nodded gently, ‘I don’t know what to say – it would be…yes. That would be lovely, thank you.’

He grinned, ‘great. Uh, you want me to drive you up, or do you want to drive yourselves up there?’

‘Hmm, something tells me that a 9-hour drive with a four-year-old will not be an enjoyable time for anyone. I think it will be best if we fly and meet you there.’

‘Okay. Sounds good. I’ll head up the day before and make sure everything’s spic and span.’

‘Thank you, Mulder. Just…tell me when it’s best for us to get there and I’ll book tickets.’

~~~

It had been kept a surprise. Mulder hadn’t been over for a week, because she knew that he couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it, especially not when a sweet little smile was begging him to tell her the plans for her birthday. So not only had Emily been asking constantly about her birthday, but she had also been asking why Mulder hadn’t come to visit them, and why she couldn’t go over and see his fish.

‘Hey, Em, I need you to wake up, Honey,’ Scully shook her daughter’s shoulder lightly, stirring her from sleep just enough to get her dressed and out the door, down to the car.

‘Is it my birthday?’ she asked, as Scully buckled her into her car seat.

‘No, Sweetheart. Not today, tomorrow.’

‘Mommy, where we going?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘For my birthday?’

‘Yeah, for your birthday. You can go back to sleep for a bit if you want. I’ll wake you when we get there.’

With that, Emily slipped back into a deep slumber, not waking at the airport, Scully having to heft her onto her hip to carry her, grateful Mulder had taken up her and Emily’s suitcases when he’d driven up.

She woke on the plane, about halfway through the journey, panic setting in. The last time she had been on a plane, she’d travelled across the country, left the only home she’d known. Scully soothed her, held her, told her it was okay, decided it was time for a birthday present. She fished around in her carryon bag, bringing out a purple wrapped squishy gift. ‘Hey, Mulder wanted me to give you his gift early. You wanna open it?’

Her eyes widened, tears still clinging to her lashes, and she nodded. She tugged the paper away, revealing a thick cable-knit sweater. ‘Mommy?’

‘It’s a sweater, to keep you nice and toasty and warm where we’re going. Isn’t that nice of Mulder.’

‘Uh-huh,’ the little girl nodded, scrunching her little fingers into the soft wool. ‘Is Mulder not coming to my birthday?’

‘He’ll be meeting us there, but he’s got a lot of work to do, so he might not be able to spend all his time with you.’

‘Oh,’ Emily hummed, nodding and sinking further into her seat. ‘What if I ask him real nicely? Will he spend some time with me then?’

Scully chuckled quietly, ‘I’m sure he’d love to.’

~~~

He was waiting for them at the gate, a happy birthday balloon in his hand and a grin plastered across his face as Emily ran into his arms, ‘hey Kiddo,’ he lifted her up, swinging her around. He caught the eye of a father, walking past with two children, who nodded to him in casual greeting and wondered, for a moment, if everyone on the outside saw a family, a unit, cohesive and together. He wondered, momentarily, if they thought Emily was his. He shook the thought from his mind, let Emily slide down to the floor and smiled at Scully, ‘good flight?’

‘Somewhat. Little panic when she woke up, but nothing an early birthday present couldn’t fix.’

As he took Scully’s bag from her, leaving her just with Emily’s much smaller one, he asked quietly if the birthday girl knew where they were going. She shook her head, muttered ‘surprise,’ and took hold of her daughter’s hand, following his lead out of the airport and to his car.

She’d gasped when she saw the house for the first time, big windows and big doors. Had dashed inside, not heeding Scully’s warnings not to run and to wait for them.

Mulder and Scully stood in the front hall, watching her dart around, neither looking at the other, trying to keep the pretence that it was just like their normal work travels: only it wasn’t. ‘I-uh-I got you a gift too.’

‘Oh, Mulder, you didn’t have to-’

‘Yeah, but I did,’ he grinned, handing her a brown paper wrapped parcel. Inside was a cable knit sweater like the one he’d gotten Emily, like the one he was wearing himself.

‘Thank you.’

He looked away, suddenly shy, ‘so, uh, I’ve put you in my parent’s old room, if that’s okay. It’s nicer than mine, bigger bed, better view, en suite. And, uh, Em’s in Sam’s old room. I’ll be in the guest room if you need anything.’

‘Thank you. I think we’ll get dressed and have lunch, then maybe head down to the beach.’

‘You want me to come or…I mean, you don’t have to say yes, I can putter around here, you know, it’s you and Emily’s weeken-‘

‘Well, it’s not my weekend, it’s Em’s. You’d have to ask her, really.’

‘No, but I don’t want to intrude or anythi-‘

‘You wouldn’t be. If Emily asked you to come you’d be an invited guest, and it’s rude to turn down an invite to someone’s birthday.’

~~~

They walked a while, her hand slipping into his as Emily ran away from the waves, wind whipping her hair and carrying away her squeals of delight, before settling a picnic blanket from the house amongst the sand dunes, sitting to watch waves chase girl and girl chase waves.

‘If it’s less windy tomorrow I’ll teach her to skim stones.’

‘What are you doing, Mulder?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re...’ she looked down, picked at the skin around her thumbnail, ‘you’re acting like her father,’ she’d been thinking about it for a while, watching him interact with Emily, treat her like a daughter, love her like his own. She could see it in his eyes.

‘I...I hadn’t noticed. I just-‘ he stared at Emily, at the grin that was so much like her mother’s that she shot over to them, ‘she’s your daughter.’

‘Exactly. I-‘ she was cut off by a bundle of energy charging into her.

‘Mommy Mommy Mommy can we build a sandcastle, Mommy?’

‘Of course, Sweetie,’ she grabbed the bucket and spade they’d brought with the picnic blanket from behind Mulder, clambering to her feet and holding her hand out to her daughter and guiding her back down to the shore.

Mulder sat watching, plucking at his bottom lip with thumb and forefinger as he contemplated what she said. Was she uncomfortable with him being around Emily so much? They’d made love two weeks before and now they were on a long weekend break together, sprog and all. Perhaps she was freaking out – after all, it had been nearly a year with Emily and she had never had a problem with him being around her before. He wasn’t trying to be her father any more than he was trying to love Scully. They...they were his girls; his Scully girls. And if he did want to be her father, well...why not? She was her mother and he loved her. He loved the both of them. He would put his life on the line a thousand times over to keep them safe and happy. He loved them. And he would tell her. He would tell her and remind her that he’d wait, for as long as she needed.

They were building a castle together a little way away, Scully smiling at something Emily said, occasionally looking up at him, meeting his eyes and swiping her wind-tussled hair back from her forehead.

Heaving himself up and dusting sand from his jeans, he made his way over to join them, grinning at the slightly lopsided architectural marvel before him, ‘Em, that’s an amazing sandcastle. You wanna choose some shells for windows?’

‘Yeah!’ she ran a little away from them, searching through the sand for ideal shells.

‘Can we continue that conversation we were having?’ he asked quietly, guiding her back to where they had been sat.

‘Mulder, I-‘

He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t want to listen to an excuse, ‘I don’t understand the problem. I...if you need me to step back from her, from you both, I will, but I don’t think it’s the right thing to do.’

She dropped back down to the picnic blanket, patting next to her for him to sit, ‘I’m worried she’ll get confused. I’m worried...Mulder, what if...what if this whole thing doesn’t work out? I feel like we’ve found ourselves in a relationship, with a child, and I can’t even remember how we got here. And what if it goes wrong? She’s lost two parents already; I don’t want her to lose another.’

He considered that, running his fingers through grainy sand, sifting out small shells and stones, ‘I remember how we got here. I remember every moment of us; rental cars and shitty motels, losing you, and nearly losing you again, every night we’ve sat and watched a movie, you, me and Emily curled up together. I remember every kiss, every detail of your body,’ he snorted, ‘Christ, Scully, you asked me for my fucking sperm three weeks before you discovered you already had a daughter. And I know, I know it was a lot then and it’s a lot now, and we never really discussed the implications, but you can’t think we’ve just fallen into this...this family. And maybe you were going to tell me to bugger off as soon as I’d made my donation, but I know you, Scully. I know you and I don’t think you would have. Well, you may have to begin with, but nine months later, when you were fit to bursting with a little bit of you and a little bit of me, I think you would have realised,’ he sighed, shook his head, ‘I’m going to say something. I’m going to say something and I think it’s going to scare you, but I think you feel it too.’

‘Mulder-‘

‘I love you, Scully. And I love your insane little Mini-Me. And yes, maybe I love her like I would love a daughter. Did I intend for that? No. But there was no way around it. Because I can’t love you and not her. It’s scary. I know it’s scary. You think I’m not terrified of fucking the both of you up? I mean, my parents – my sister for Christ’s sake – I hardly have a good example of a strong family to go on, but this...I spend every other evening with you guys. I spend weekends with you guys. And God, if it doesn’t feel so right, Scully. And you know it does; you know deep down how goddamn right it feels.’

‘I just...I don’t want to confuse her. She’s been through so much.’

‘I know. But she’s a bright girl. And she’s strong, and brave, just like her mother. Nothing is ever going to be easy with her, except maybe loving her, but I think she’ll be more distraught if you cut me out of her life completely. And I know you certainly will,’ he bumped her shoulder with his own, held his hand out to entwine their fingers, ‘she doesn’t have to call me dad or anything, I just want to be a part of her life. Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just think about it.’

With her gaze locked onto their tangled fingers, she nodded before resting her head on his shoulder and looking out to where Emily was waving at them. She waved back, as he did, and let her eyes slide closed, ‘can we take it slow?’

‘We can take it glacially if you want. We can both be old and grey, and Em can be pushing us around in our wheelchairs when we finally tell her we’re official.’

She chuckled, shook her head, ‘you’re such an asshole, Mulder.’

‘Ahh, but you love me.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I do.’

They settled into a gentle silence, listening to the crash of waves and the screech of seagulls, until Emily clambered into Scully’s lap and nestled into her warmth, ‘Mommy, I’m cold.’

She opened her eyes, smiled down at Emily’s pinked cheeks and red nose, kissed each in turn. ‘Okay, Honey. Shall we head back to the house?’

‘Uh-huh,’ the little girl jumped up, tugged at her mother’s hand, pulling her up to standing, and jabbed her toes into the sand whilst the adults packed away the blanket and Mulder grabbed the bucket and spade.

Each taking one of Emily’s small hands, they started their trek back to the house. The wind had picked up and spray was being carried off the sea, ‘here, have my sweater Em,’ Mulder proffered, shucking off his jumper, leaving him in just his base layer, and holding it out for her to climb into. It fell to her feet, and the sleeves flopped around by her.

‘She’s gonna drag it on the floor, Mulder.’

‘No she’s not,’ he laughed, scooping the little girl up into his arms, cradling her to his chest to keep her warmer. ‘Want me to carry you like this or on my shoulders?’

‘Shoulders, shoulders, shoulders!’ she yelled into his face, squealing as he rearranged her and lifted her to sit on his shoulders, ‘hold on tight, little monkey.’

Scully smiled at the pair of them, slipping the hand that had previously been occupied by Emily’s around Mulder’s bicep as he held onto each of the child’s ankles, stopping her from slipping every time she leaned back a little too far, ‘you’re like an elephant.’

‘Excuse me?’ he spluttered, mock shock as he craned his neck up to see Emily’s giggles, ‘did you hear what your mother just called me? She said I was an elephant. I may be a little heavy, but I’m not an elephant, thank you very much!’ Mulder’s indignation only made Emily laugh harder, cackling loudly in competition with the seabirds.

‘Actually, I said you were like an elephant. I didn’t say you were an elephant.’

‘Semantics,’ he scoffed, and the girl on his shoulders mimicked him, cascading into fits of laughter once more, ‘go on, explain.’

‘Elephants have been known to carry other species young when their mother’s get too tired to. They’re very empathetic creatures. So big, but so gentle. You remind me of that.’

‘So it wasn’t a snide comment on my weight? I’m very sensitive about my body, you know?’

‘Mulder,’ she sighed, patting his belly and leaning into him, ‘you’re as fit as you were the day I met you.’

~~~

‘Hey, look what I found!’ Mulder stumbled into the lounge, a tower of pillows, blankets, bedsheets and cushions teetering precariously in his arms as he bumped into the arm of the sofa. A dusty box fell from the top, a bulky tangle of Christmas lights spilling out.

‘Lights! Cool!’ Emily dived into the piled of blankets he dropped onto the sofa, snuggling down to find the softest of them for the floor of her blanket fort.

‘They better work, Mulder, or the whole day will be ruined,’ Scully murmured to him as she stood up from where she was pegging a bedsheet to one of the armchairs they’d rotated to form the walls.

‘Don’t worry, I checked.’

Scully gave a grateful nod and looked over to her daughter, ‘should we do the floor before the roof?’

‘Yup. I think this one and this one,’ she pushed a heavy king size and slightly lighter double duvet over the back of the couch before sending the pillows and cushions Mulder had also gathered over too.

‘Might I suggest we first lay out couch cushions to make the floor squishy?’ Mulder suggested, already pulling off the seats of the two armchairs and chucking them down, Emily being lifted up and dropped onto them with squalling laughter before the sofa cushions were also dumped on the floor.

With the collaborative work of all three of them building the pillow fort under Emily’s strict guidance it was built in no time, the finishing touches of lights being turned on and snacks being gathered. They’d managed to incorporate the TV into their den and Mulder laid out a stack of dusty old videos he and Sam used to watch on a regular basis for Emily to choose from as he and Scully made popcorn and turned off any unnecessary lights, leaving the living room bathed in only the glow of the colourful string lights and a couple of lamps.

‘Thank you for this, Mulder.’

‘It’s no problem. It’s more interesting than sorting the attic out.’

‘Isn’t your mom going to be disappointed you didn’t get much done?’ Scully asked, grabbing a box of juice cartons from where Mulder had stored them in the cupboard with Emily’s birthday cake that he had worked very hard on the day before they arrived.

‘Scully, my mom didn’t actually ask me to come up here and sort the house out. I just figured it might be nice for Emily – and it makes sense to get some use out of the place rather than letting it go empty all this time,’ he shrugged, ‘I would have let you come up by yourselves, but it still needed some tidying before it was habitable, and I didn’t want you to have to waste time with Em doing that.’

She smiled up at him, only just noticing how close he had gotten to her as she felt his warm breath on her cheeks, ‘thank you, Mulder,’ she whispered again, reaching up to brush a kiss against his lips.

Only she didn’t get to, pulling away and slamming her eyes shut as Emily called out, ‘can we watch Jungle Book!’

‘Yes, Baby. Just give us a minute.’

Scully’s eyes still closed, Mulder brushed her flushed cheeks, ‘she didn’t see,’ he murmured into her ear, ‘she’s still in her fort.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ he shook his head as he cupped her cheek, checking over her shoulder before dropping a short, sweet kiss to her lips and grabbing the popcorn, ‘I get it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Stop thanking me.’

‘I have to. You’ve done so much for us.’

He gave her a smile before bending down and whispering in her ear, ‘save those thank yous for when your mom has Emily for a weekend,’ leaving her gobsmacked as he crawled into the fort and congratulated her daughter on a great choice of movie, helping her put it into the reader.

‘Mommy, you’re gonna miss the film!’

Scully took a final moment to breathe and cool her red cheeks before following Mulder into the cosy cave they’d built, snuggling down with her daughter and her partner, more content than she’d been in a long time, and much more hopeful, too.

~~~

They spent the evening in the pillow fort, Mulder and Emily ganging up on Scully to convince her that dinner in the fort was a genius idea until she caved; Scully panicking when Mulder brought in a tray with a couple of tea-lights, a bag of marshmallows and chocolate covered cookies, smores being the ‘only suitable pre-birthday dessert for a pillow fort evening, Scully!’ Mulder waving off her fear of the polyester sheets they were surrounded by catching fire and going up like a torch.

There came a protest when Scully suggested bath time, something that, whilst Emily had been getting better at, she was not so convinced to go in a bathtub she was unused to. So Scully climbed in with her, and Mulder sat on the other side of the door she’d left ajar, talking to them, telling them stories about sea-sprites and mermaids to the gentle sloshing of shampooing hair and soaping skin.

After both Mulder and Scully had promised that they wouldn’t dismantle the fort, and many renditions of ‘your birthday can’t come if you don’t go to sleep,’ Emily finally settled in Samantha’s old bed, nestling into floral bedsheets, as Scully read her a bedtime story and Mulder sat at the end of the bed pulling all the right faces for the characters. And, when her eyes started drooping, the fresh air and travel and excitement of the day catching up to her, they each kissed her on the forehead and promised to see her tomorrow morning, each told her how much they loved her, how treasured she was.

And then, when the lights were off and snuffling snores were emanating from the room, they crept back downstairs and moved already-wrapped birthday presents from the back of Mulder’s car into the pillow fort - a bicycle with a purple bow on the front and books and colouring crayons and so many new clothes - drinking juice-boxes as they blew up balloons and hung streamers around the room.

When all the preparations were done, and the clock was striking ten, she hugged him tightly, her face buried into his chest, before she pulled away, ducking from his arms and wishing him goodnight as she found her way to his parents' old bedroom.

The house was silent for about ten minutes, only the wind whistling against the window frames, before she could hear him puttering about downstairs, putting dried plates away and switching lights off, locking the doors and checking the windows. His footsteps on the stairs, pausing outside her bedroom before disappearing into the bathroom across the hall.

~~~

‘Scully?’ his voice soft through the crack of her door.

‘I’m fine,’

‘I heard crying-‘

‘I’m fine, Mulder, really, I just…’ she sniffled, crumbled to sobs, ‘my baby’s four already and I’ve only had a year with her. I’ll never get those first years, never smell her baby smell or hold her tiny hand or watch her first step and hear her first word. I don’t know what her first solid food was, what her favourite baby foods were, or-‘

‘Hey, hey, it’s okay, shh, slow down, slow down,’ he climbed into bed next to her, gathering her into his arms as she sucking in breaths and juddered in his arms, ‘take a deep breath, there we go. Good girl. Okay, shh, shh. Now, again, slowly.’

‘She’s growing up so fast, Mulder.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s not fair. I never got to hold her as a baby. Most parents have locks of hair from their first haircuts. I don’t...I don’t have any of that. I missed so many firsts.’

He listened to her, cradling her head to his chest and nodding along with what she was saying, taking up soothing stroking on her back, ‘I know. But she’s also got so many more firsts coming. Every day is a new day, Scully, and you get to experience those new days with her now. We’ve got to be hopeful, okay. I know it’s hard, but there’s no point in looking back at the past when we’ve got so much of a future with her. You’re a good mom, Scully. You love her so much, and she knows that. She’s a very lucky girl, and you don’t take her for granted. Maybe you missed a lot, but it doesn’t change how much time you’re going to get with her, and it doesn’t change how much you mean to one another. You’ve just got to remember that, okay?’

‘Yeah,’ her voice cracked as she nodded into him.

‘Is this what’s been bothering you today? You’ve not been yourself.’

She nodded again, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, no. You have no reason to apologise and every reason to feel like this. I just need you to talk to me so I know how to help. Do you...this might be completely the wrong time, but it might also help. I don’t know. But...do you want to talk about the IVF again? Bring up that possibility?’

‘Mulder,’ he could feel a renewed flood of tears soaking his t-shirt, ‘I don’t...I don’t deserve another miracle.’

He considered for a moment, pressing his lips to the crown of her head, ‘I don’t think that’s true. You deserve the world, Scully. And you deserve all the babies your heart desires, and if you want them I’ll help you get them, okay?’

She sniffed, nodded, in a small voice gave, ‘can we talk about it at some point then? Maybe in the new year? When, if, we’re...y’know, together?’

‘Of course, Scully. The ball’s in your court – the offer’s always on the table.’

She shifted to sit up properly, to look at him in the dim light from the window, ‘I want to do it properly, Mulder. As a family.’

‘Okay. We can do that. We can wait until the right time. You just say when.’

‘We’ll have to talk to Emily about it.’

‘We?’

‘Family.’

He grinned. ‘Scully?’

‘Mm?’

‘Can I kiss you?’

She nodded and was knocked backwards in his enthusiasm, catching his checks and rubbing at his stubble with her thumbs, tasting spearmint and the salt of her tears, maybe some of his tears, too. Her fingers moved up to his hair as his played patterns on her neck, her hip, and when she broke her mouth away she pressed her forehead to his as a replacement, staying as close as possible to him, eyes locked firmly together. He brushed crystallising tears from her cheeks, nuzzled their noses together, returned to kissing her, grunting when she hooked a leg around his back and pulled his body to hers.

‘Scully, if we’re going to take things slow, you’re going to have to not do that. I...’

She blushed, cheeks heating at the touch of his gaze and the press of his body against hers, ‘sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I just...you want to take things slow and...y’know, we’ve done it once before, but Emily’s in the next room and...’

‘Emily was in the next room last time.’

‘Exactly. And you panicked that time. Also...’ he hesitated with a cringe, ‘also, this is my parent’s bed. And whatever happens between us tonight or any other night will not be happening in my parent’s bed.

‘Mmm...that is a very valid point. We’re going to have a very excited four-year-old to deal with tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, anyway.’

With a final kiss, he nodded, shifting so he could tuck them both under the covers and spoon up behind her, chuckling when her feet brushed his calves, ‘cold toes.’

She hummed, nestled back into him further, tucking her head under his chin.

‘Mommy?’

Scully froze, Mulder stiffening behind her too, ‘yes, Em?’

‘I can’t sleep. The room’s spooky.’

‘Spooky?’

‘Yeah, it’s spooky. Can I sleep here with you?’

Scully sighed, looking over her shoulder at Mulder. He shrugged and nodded. ‘Sure, Sweetie. Come on,’ she tugged back the covers and let her daughter climb up and snuggled into her.

‘Mulder? Why are you in Mommy’s bed too?’ both he and Scully swallowed uncomfortably, wondering what the best way of explaining it to a four-year-old was. ‘Was your room spooky as well?’

‘Yes, Baby, Mulder’s room was spooky too.’

Emily sat up, leaning over Scully to pat Mulder’s arm, ‘it’s okay now. Mommy will keep us safe. Mommy’s good at dealing with spooky things.’

‘That she certainly is, Em. That she certainly is.’

Ah, if couches were ever rewarded for being the silent witnesses to so many of these domestic disputes. If only the reliability of worn leather was ever a consideration to couples such as this, mindlessly counting on its strength to hold up their bodies and their words. But alas, an ode to furniture was the farthest thing from Dana Scully’s mind this chilly night.

She was focused on one thing with steady intensity, and that was ending a stalemate that had been going on for months. Ever since they had discovered the tiny human currently dancing around her womb was a girl, she hadn’t known a moment’s peace. It should have been simple enough to choose a mutually satisfactory name, but it turned out to be a matter in which they both had strong opinions. Opposing ones. With a sigh, she contemplated how the world kept turning and turning and some things never changed.

“Nag on me all you want, Scully, I’m not backing down.” Mulder’s smile was impish, his tug on her toe fond. She remained, however, unmoved. The bulging stomach between them, currently obscuring her own feet from view, was but one reminder that they had four weeks left to come to an agreement. Aching back, swollen ankles and perpetual indigestion added to the effect of a generally less than sunny disposition. She was no longer in her thirties, and every year of her 54 was felt this pregnancy.

Still, her fingertips traced adoring circles around her belly button, every kick to the ribs met with a grunt and a smile. Yet she kept it to herself, leveling on Mulder the stern gaze he had claimed from her as his own over twenty years ago. She did not want to let him do away with the argument this time. 

“Do you know why it was so easy last time?” He gave her a mock skeptical glance before turning back to his Sasquatch documentary, but it didn’t deter her in the slightest. “Because I picked the name, and you couldn’t argue with me about it.”

He actually laughed a little. “Scully, I’ll go out on a limb here and say that given our family histories, the chances of William having a different name were slim to none.”

She held back a longing sigh and proceeded to ignore him. “My point stands.”

A quiet snort, followed by the gentle clasp of his fingers on her swollen foot. “No, it doesn’t.”

She felt less inclined to argue as she savored the feeling of his fingers massaging the aches away, but still refused to surrender the attempt. “Don’t think you’ll distract me from this. Mulder, I’ve already proposed a perfectly reasonable solution: I get the first name, you get the second name; everybody’s happy.”

His look was wry. “Or I get the first name and you get the second name. Admit it, Scully, the second name only exists on paper, no one will even know it’s there.”

Her head fell back against the couch, for a moment fancying herself a long-suffering saint singing her frustration to the heavens. If only age had softened Mulder’s stubborn edge as it had softened the angles on his face; it was unfair, wrestling with the spitting image of his thirty-year-old self when she wasn’t even sure she’d recognize herself from twenty years ago. “Sure. Fine,” she said, head still stretched back, “you can tell your daughter whose fault it is that she doesn’t get a name until her 18th birthday. Assuming we both live to see it.” The last part was a dry murmur, meant only for God.

“Mhmm.” She felt his lips on her stomach, then, curving around its roundness with the stretch of a smile. Her gaze didn’t acknowledge him, but one of her hands landed amidst the softness of his hair, sweeping off any residual harshness with gentle strokes. This was their rhythm — the never-ending cycle of verbal spars that was as comfortable as it was challenging. No matter which one came out on top, in the end they knew their places to be side by side; with every smile and every touch the slate was once again wiped clean, no scorecards kept. Beneath the frustration, her whole being still hummed to this tune that was all their own.

And thus came Beauty, summoned by the unwitting siren call of a heart that chose love.

Finally lowering her eyes, the scene before Scully seemed to stretch until it wrapped around her entire world. She saw Mulder, face on her belly, alternating between nuzzling with his nose and sending whispers to the baby in a hushed baritone; they were not meant for her, but she basked in the vibrations of his voice, watching every crinkle on that beloved face as it shifted and pressed words into her skin. She saw her hand in his hair, noticed how it felt the same between her fingers as it did twenty years before. She saw past and future entwined around her finger in gold, glittering as it ran between strands tinged with grey. 

She drank in every detail as if at any moment she might be called upon to paint it from memory. Never before had that corner of the world seen such loving gaze; never before had the night breeze found fingers gentler than its own, or the cackling fire eyes that could match it in warmth. They were all silent witnesses to the most mundane of miracles; they, who had beheld for roughly two thousand years these rippling echoes of another miracle, one even more singular in its lowliness.

She knew they’d be arguing about this again tomorrow. She also knew they’d be lying like this again tomorrow, after all had been said and done, chasing away small everyday annoyances on the leather couch. Mulder raised his head to look at her, hooded eyes smiling, and her own lips melted into a soft curve. At the end of the day, their life together was all the more dear for being made of all these little contradictions, the seams an ever-present reminder that they were two individuals bound together by choice as much as fate.  

Perhaps it had taken them over twenty years to find their place in the world, to craft a life dictated by will instead of circumstance. And perhaps many, upon looking in through any window of the little house, would have concluded that the life they chose didn’t amount to much. But as blue met grey over the belly that protected this second chance they never thought they’d get, they both knew it amounted to everything.

Beauty left a little piece of itself in that unremarkable little house, nestling inside two hearts determined to see it in the little things, to call it by name, to touch it with the hands of love. It swept into the creaky floors and through the drafty rooms, kissed each smiling face on the mantle — each of them precious, so many gone. It blessed the little white crib and the old rag doll lying expectantly upon it.

______

Notes: 

1. I chose not to address the whole William mess because a. CC doesn’t deserve my efforts and b. this was really not supposed to be complicated.