What the hell was wrong with her? She couldnít shake this. He was alive and she was so thankful she could still cry at the drop of a hat, but something else was wrong. The nightmares were bad. It had always been him with nightmares, not her. It seemed like most nights she woke to find him comforting her. And her broken sleep meant that she couldnít keep her eyes open in the afternoons. She just felt terrible all the time. This wasnít like her, maybe when she went back to work her energy would come back. She could only hope so.
Mulderís concern was growing as well. She wasnít getting better. If anything she was getting worse. This wasnít just grief Ė maybe it had started out that way. And maybe that was the problem. Sheíd allowed her body to get so rundown that sheíd let herself get ill. She had lost weight, she kept getting sick, and the nightmares seemed to have left him and settled in her.
She washed her face and came out of the bathroom. As she had feared, he was waiting for her.
She nodded and tried to get around him. He put out his arm and stopped her, checking for fever. "I think you need to see someone."
"And tell them what?"
"Tell them your symptoms, have them run tests. Scully, Iím here, but I feel like Iím losing you."
She shook free and headed for the kitchen. "Iím going to make some tea, want some?"
"No thanks." He sighed. She had no fever but her appetite was gone. Hell, he needed to think about this some more. He counted on her to handle the medical part.
The knock on the door caught him off guard. She hadnít heard it, so he checked through the peephole. Skinner, alone. He opened the door cautiously and let him in.
"You doing okay?" At Mulderís nod, "Is Dana here?"
"Yeah, sheís in the kitchen."
"Is she doing any better?" Mulder shook his head.
"Well, I have some news."
"Iíll get her." He headed into the other room as Skinner removed his coat. They came back holding hands. Mulder couldnít keep his concern for her from his face.
"Scully, Mulder, I found your face. Whoever did this had a warped sense of humor. In 1978, Billy Ray Moore was convicted of murder, four counts, in Texas. He was executed in the electric chair in 1984 when he canceled all appeals. It took us a while because the files on the dead run last. Any luck on breaking through the memory block?"
"None. I donít think itís an implanted memory anymore. Weíve tried hypnosis several times without any success. The guys and I are beginning to think itís a transmission."
In his mind he was seeing the sessions they had held trying desperately to break through her memory. Heíd hated to put her through it. He hated even more that it hadnít worked. Byers was no expert at hypnosis, heíd made that clear going in, but you didnít have to be an expert at breaking through a memory barrier to see that one existed. Mulder had even assisted after the first time. He had been trained at Oxford. They had all agreed he was too close to this, but he was willing to try almost anything so that she could see him again. Byers had done a good job. Now they knew that ĎTheyí had been taking her again just prior to his death. She still didnít know who they were. The abductions were only lasting hours now, not weeks. Was that a good thing? He could feel his hands become fists again at the thought. He hadnít been able to protect her, hadnít even realized she needed protecting.
"Yes, through her implant." His teeth were gritted. "Thatís the only thing that makes sense. Why does no one else see what she sees? And there just wasnít time for a deep memory implant. Byers is working on a way to block it, but we have to be careful testing it."
"Well, I donít have anything else yet, and I shouldnít stay long. Anything specific you want me to check?"
"Not right now. Weíd rather save you for when we reach a dead-end."
Skinner nodded and reached for his coat. The crackle under his fingers caused him to pause. "Uh, Dana, I need your signature."
"On what?" She didnít even sound like herself.
"I need your help to commit fraud. I donít know how to stall on this without arousing suspicion." He withdrew the papers from his coat pocket. "This is to release the life insurance."
"What life insurance?"
Skinner glanced at Mulder. "For a spacey kind of guy, he had sense enough to sign up for the best plan."
"So you need his motherís signature."
"Uh, no." Skinner looked over again at Mulderís red face. "Youíre his sole beneficiary."
"Listen, Iíll, uh, Iíll leave these papers here. You call me when I can pick them up." He laid the papers on her coffee table and headed for the door. Scully stood staring at the papers; Mulder held the door at an angle where he couldnít be seen.
"Mulder, I didnít know." Mulder shook his head but said nothing. "Look after her."
"I will." He shut the door and turned reluctantly toward her.
She looked up at him and quickly away, "Me?" A tear fell from each eye.
"Oh Scully, who else would I want to leave anything to? I just never thought Iíd be here when you found out. Thereís more, hell I left everything to you except the videos you gave Frohike."
"Mulder." She sank onto the couch.
"Itís yours. Donít think about it now. Iím more concerned with your health at the moment."
"No. We have to talk about it. This isnít grief and it isnít flu. You havenít been hiding nose bleeds from me, have you?"
"No! I havenít hid anything from you. How could I?"
"We are kind of in each otherís pockets here, arenít we? I could go stay with the guys."
"No! No." She took a deep breath and he couldnít help but appreciate the motion. Then it all clicked in his mind and his face went ashen.
"Mulder? Mulder what is it?"
"I have to go out."
"No! Mulder you canít." She was clutching his arm.
"Scully Iíll be careful. This is something you canít do. I wonít be long." He grabbed a jacket and a baseball cap and let himself out her back door.
"Mulder." She breathed as she sank onto the couch.
When he returned he found her huddled on the couch clutching the afghan he slept with around her.
"Oh Scully." He gathered her up in his arms. "Iím sorry. I didnít realize. . . " He held her close.
When she could speak she murmured into this chest, "What was so important?"
"Iíll show you in a minute. Right now I need you to listen to me. Try not to think Iím totally insane."
She nodded, still not removing her face from his chest.
He smoothed her hair down, "Weíve agreed that we have a friend inside of the group thatís doing this to us." She nodded. "I think that when they took me our friend couldnít be sure he could get me away, help me escape. I think they wanted to leave you with something, just in case."
"Leave me with what?"
"A. . . " He had to stop and moisten his lips, "A child, Scully."
"A what?" Now she did look up.
"A baby, I think my baby."
"Thatís not possible."
"Yes it is, Scully. They have your ova, they obviously had access to me."
"But. . . no! Damn it! No!" She tried to jerk away but he held her. And continued to hold her as she began to pound on his chests and arms, growing increasingly hysterical.
"Scully, please." He took her blows as his heart sank, only stopping her from hitting herself.
When her emotional storm finally passed she collapsed against him.
"Itís. . . itís okay Scully. Even if it is true, you donít have to have it. You can have an abortion, or. . . "
"Is that what you think I want?" Her voice wasnít steady, her breath still hitching.
"Itís okay. If you donít want. . . Look, weíre not even sure. Thatís what I went to get, one of those home tests. You can take the test and then decide if. . . "
"Thatís not. . . Mulder, thatís not whatís wrong. I donít believe Iím pregnant, but if I am I want to be pregnant the old fashioned way. Why do they have to control everything? If I carry your baby I want you to give it to me. I want them out of my life, I want some normalcy Ė not to be monitored or transmitted to or impregnated by some chip in my neck. I want. . . Mulder do you really believe Iím pregnant?" For the first time she sounded as though she had hope it was true.
Her revelations had rendered him speechless. Heíd been ready to help her abort his child because she didnít want his baby. Now she was saying she wanted. . .
"I donít. . . I canít. . . Maybe you should just take the test."
"I need to wait until morning. If youíre right, itís so early Iíd need the first morningís. . . Mulder, where did you get this idea? What made you even think it?"
"Uh. . . " His face was scarlet.
"What, Mulder? Tell me."
"My breasts? With everything going on around us, youíve started staring at my breasts?" Her eyebrow had reached Himalayan heights.
"Iíve always stared at. . . oh god. Could you give me a running start before you shoot me this time?" He seemed to sink into the couch.
"I might hit you in the ass if I do, and Iíd hate to cause brain damage." That gave him the courage to look up and see the smile she had managed to keep from her lips, but not her eyes.
"We have to wait until morning?" She nodded, "Not one of my strengths."
She did smile then, "I know."
"Look, why donít you go on to bed. Youíve not had a great day and I can be mortified out here all by myself."
"Why donít you come on to bed too?"
"Wha. . . what?"
"You end up in there every night anyway because of the nightmares. Iíd say weíre both fated for nightmares tonight."
He nodded in agreement. Was she letting him off the hook, even after that admission? She was so much more than he deserved. "Iíll clean up in here, you go get ready."
She was already in bed when he came in and lay down stiffly beside her. She scooted back until she was against his chest, as he finally began to relax he heard her whisper, "So youíve always looked at my breasts?"
Rather than make a comment that truly would lead to a bullet, he put his arm around her and kept quiet.
She woke to daylight, no nightmares, and Mulderís arms around her. The test, she should take the test. She slipped out of the bed being careful not to wake him.
He was awake, but he pretended not to be, not sure what she wanted. She was gone what felt like a very long time. When he heard her returning he closed his eyes. He felt her lie back down leaving a lot of space between them. Okay, that was enough. His arm snaked around her drawing her to him. "Well?"
"I didnít mean to wake you."
"Scully." His tone meant business.
She looked up from his chest. "Iím pregnant." She couldnít mistake that look of total joy that flashed in his eyes before he could hide it. That eased the knot in her chest considerably.
"Are you okay?" He finally asked.
"I was serious last night. If you donít want. . . "
Her arms tightened around him. "I resent their interference. Itís not the way I fantasized about getting pregnant. I mean if weíre right and it is yours."
"Then Iím carrying your baby and weíve never even kissed."
"We could fix that." Sheíd never seen him so still, waiting.
Her nod was almost imperceptible and the light touch of his lips was chaste and cool. The second, when she responded was warmer. The third positively steamy. His hand had found itís way under her t-shirt and held her breasts. She gasped into his mouth.
"Very okay." And he was kissing her again. He did know what he was doing.
"Wait, we should slow down, Scully. I donít want to rush. . . "
"Mulder, my own mother couldnít make a case for us rushing anything." He grinned down at her.
"Youíre probably right there." His hand had traveled down to her stomach, caressing it lightly, then on down to the elastic of her panties. When she made no move to stop him, one finger entangled itself in her curls. The scent of her arousal surrounded him, so he continued his exploration. He noted her breathing had become shallow and she lay open, awaiting whatever he had in mind.
When his finger grazed her moist bud she gasped, and when his finger slipped inside he wasnít sure she was getting any oxygen at all. When his hand moved back up to her stomach she moaned slightly. No fair, he couldnít stop now. And turn about was fair play. He hissed as her hand found him through his shorts. So he liked that, she wrapped her fingers around him and he lost the power of linear thought.
He didnít remember removing his t-shirt, or hers for that matter, but there was no longer anything separating them.
He knew without asking that it had been a long time for her, so he wanted to be gentle, slow Ė she wasnít helping there. God, she was ready. He began to ease himself into her slowly. She grasped his hips and arched, filling herself with him.
"Scully." He pulled back away from her. "Scully. Thereís a 17 year-old inside of me, ready to humiliate me completely. Please. . . stop that Scully or Iíll. . . "
"Youíll what, Mulder?"
He was hanging onto control by his fingernails and here she was playing dirty, massaging him with those muscles. He withdrew completely, eliciting a moan of protest from her. Then his lips were on her nipple and she relaxed again, allowing him to set the pace for a while.
When he finally allowed her to guide him back to her center he was more in control, able to enter her without the fear of immediate humiliation. At least she had given some control back to him. But this wasnít going to take long, it had been a long time for him as well Ė face it years and this was what heíd waited for. She was matching him thrust for thrust.
She was so close, he seemed to know instinctively what she needed and she felt his finger again find that bundle of nerves. She almost never came, the fear of loss of control overpowering her physical needs. Not this time Ė not with Mulder, she gave herself over to him and spun out of control in the safety of his arms.
He thought he would die of sheer joy as this woman convulsed in his arms. Only in his best fantasies had he dreamed of pleasuring her like this. Then her orgasm pushed him over the edge. One thrust, two and he too was gone Ė retaining only enough sense not to crush her beneath him.
He returned to his body to find her hand caressing his cheek and his eyes locked onto hers. "You can see your unborn children in her eyes." What was that? A line from a song? It was true.
"You okay?" Her hand moved down onto his chest.
"Yeah, oh yeah. You?" That smile that came over her face was all he needed. "You seem to be feeling better this morning."
"I think youíve stumbled across a sure-fire cure for morning sickness."
"Should I apply for a patent?"
"No, I have no intentions of sharing."
"Um, I like it when youíre territorial."
She smiled and reached up to pull his face down to her own. She kissed his nose then looked him directly in the eye. "You know your theory about why this happened is bullshit, donít you?"
He looked up from her lips startled and began a protest, until she zapped him with that eyebrow. He looked away abashed.
"Iím pregnant Mulder, not stupid. This is no gift from a friend. This baby is the catalyst for all of this. They found out the experiments on me worked. They had to get you out of the way in such a manner that I wouldnít be looking for you. Theyíd have to keep me alive, for awhile. But we know what theyíre capable of. They would have faked my suicide or something to hide me away. When they didnít need me anymore. . . You did have help escaping, but thatís as far as Iíll go with it." His grip tightened. "Want to admit you had this all figured out?"
He took a deep breath. "Iím not going to let that happen."
"Youíre probably still alive to make sure I conceived. Since Iím still free they donít know. Itís not going to take them long. Mulder, donít coddle me, or lie to me. Iím still your partner."
"In every way."
"We should get up." She started to rise.
"Why?" His eyes were dilated, his body obviously excited just listening to her.
"Because now we have another reason to figure out how to make ourselves safe."
His hand was back on her stomach. "Youíre right and we will. Iím going to push the guys to find a way to block that transmission."
She nodded, suddenly fighting tears. "Scully?"
"Iím okay, really."
"Iíll make you some breakfast, if I can walk."
"I have every confidence in you."
*****Believe Me 4
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