Miracles Await (PG-13)

He hesitated for just a moment outside of the door.  Damn, had he ever been more nervous approaching this door?  Come on, you’re a big, bad FBI agent, you can do this.  He tapped on the door, then again.  When there was still no response he didn’t know whether to be sorry, relieved, or just get the hell out of there.

Yeah, right.  He pulled his keys from his pocket and proceeded to open the door.  “Scully?  Scully, you here?”

She wasn’t.  Was that a good sign or a bad one?  What could be taking so long?  He slipped his jacket off and prepared to wait. 

Wait?  He was lousy at it.  Weren’t you supposed to become more patient as you aged?  Well it wasn’t working with him.  Damn he’d been here, what twenty seconds?  Already he was pacing.  Anything to keep from thinking.

Had this been a mistake?

Don’t go there again.  You’ve gone over everything, every aspect of this situation from six million directions.  You made your decision - drop it!

Still he found himself pacing, revisiting his decision.  Stunned didn’t even come close to the feeling he’d had when Scully, Dana Scully, had asked him to be the father of her child.  Shock didn’t even do it.  He’d managed to remain on his feet but that was about all.  He still didn’t remember what quip he had made but it had seemed to ease her tension, and had brought a slight smile to her face.  That he remembered.  Face it; if he was shocked, what kind of agony had she been in to actually come to him with such a request.

That request.  Even after all these years of loving the woman he had never, ever entertained the idea that she would even consider him as a father for any child she might want.  Not for a second. 

Oh he’d had fantasies, they had begun with the discovery of Emily and had never really gone away.  She’d had a child, and hadn’t even been given the chance to know her, to love her, as she desperately wanted.  He had dreamed that the conception of Emily, while using her stolen ova, had included his own stolen DNA.   It hadn’t been true.  Surely she would have told him if he had been Emily’s father - especially after the doctor had asked them point blank at the hospital.  But the feeling, the desire had never really gone away.  And to be honest he’d never checked the file.  Knowing for certain that he wasn’t involved wouldn’t change anything anyway.

Where was she?  He was going mad, wondering if a child of his, of theirs, had been conceived.  He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted it when he had agreed.   Maybe he had avoided knowing.  Maybe he had tried to think of this as her child, her project.   It wasn’t.  That was what he had meant about this coming between them.  Could they raise a child together?  Would she allow him that degree of intimacy in her life?

He shook himself and retreated back to the couch.  A hole in her carpet when she did finally arrive would not be welcome.  None of these thoughts either, he was sure.

What would she allow him?  Oh, she would never keep him from seeing the child, but would he ever know that Mulder was his father.  

Good Mulder, stick to chauvinistic stereotypes; earn a kick in the balls.

But the question remained, would he/she/it ever call him Dad?  And how much farther outside of his comfort zone could he get and continue to breathe?  He had called his father ‘Dad’.  With him as the only role model, Scully probably would get a restraining order and not let him within 500 yards of the child.

He shook his head; that was ridiculous.  She had asked for his assistance in this.  Hell, she had asked for his sperm.  Maybe not the way he’d like to give it to her, but a hell of a lot closer than he had ever honestly dreamed.

It was still hard for him to believe she had worked up the courage to ask him.  Scully didn’t open up to him, not about things like this.  

No, that wasn’t strictly true.  Not any more.   Well, think about it, had she ever?  She had called him when the cancer had been diagnosed, not her mother, not her brothers.  She had called him when she found Emily.  The only reason her family had known before him on that was because she had blurted it out in shock Christmas morning.  She had confessed that she had seen visions of Emily on that case involving the quadruplets.  That had been hard for her.  It wasn’t scientific or logical.

She had been such a rock when his mother died.  He would never have gotten through that without her.  And he hadn’t had to ask for her support, it was just there like sunlight and oxygen.

Had she truly thought for an instant that he would refuse this request?  Had he ever refused a request by her?  Nothing came to mind; he hoped he hadn’t.

How many hours had he been here?  He checked his watch, seventeen minutes?  Shit.

He had to think about something else.  That file he’d pulled this afternoon, maybe they could check it . . . what was he thinking?  If she was pregnant she couldn’t go out into the field.   He couldn’t allow her to . . . Allow?   Did he have the authority to forbid Scully to do anything?  But if she was carrying his baby . . .

He sank further down on the couch.  God he would miss her.  And yes, he was a selfish bastard.  She wanted this; she wanted this more than anything.  He knew he owed her no less than this.  Still, he had to admit that nine months without her at his side would be difficult.

Of course, that brought up the unthinkable.  Would she come back after the baby was born?  How could a single mother be a field agent?  Would she be a single mother?  She wouldn’t marry him – she had too much sense for that, didn’t she?  If they were married they couldn’t be partners.  Well, if she didn’t come back they couldn’t be partners either.  He could admit now that he understood why married couples weren’t allowed in the field together.  Her safety had grown in importance with each case.  He had never admitted that before, not even to himself.

Would she be satisfied going back to Quantico?  Or would she want to leave the Bureau entirely?  Could he afford enough child support to allow her to stay home?  Child support – one more thing they hadn’t discussed.

He wanted to be part of this.  He wanted to be a father to the child, and yes, to be in Scully’s life.  What would happen if she met someone after the baby was born?  Then his child would have a stepfather.  He closed his eyes.  This was worse than when he’d made the actual decision.  Of course, then he couldn’t honestly say he was thinking straight.   He had been so completely blown away by Scully’s request.

Damn, this was exhausting.  Where was she?   He let his head drop onto the back of the couch.


The door wasn’t locked.  That meant he was already here, waiting for her.  Could she face him?   She didn’t want him here, not now.   She didn’t want him here almost as much as she did.

The sound of her entering caused him to stir.  “Scully?  I must have drifted off.  I was waiting for you to get back.”  There was silence and he was on his feet.  One look at her face was enough.  “It didn’t take, did it?”  His eye involuntarily flicked down to her stomach and immediately back up.
”I guess it was too much to hope for.”  His arms went around her and she lost her battle for composure.   “It was my last chance.”  He held her tighter as she gave in to her grief.  He closed his eyes against his own pain. 

Every doubt, every question he had raised was gone from his head.   She was grieving for the loss of a child that never had been, and he realized, he was too.

He pulled back for a second, and placed a kiss on her forehead.  “Never give up on a miracle.”  She kissed him then and returned to the comfort of his arms.

They stood that way in silence for a moment.  When she took a deep breath, he looked down at her.  “You need to sit down.”

She nodded tiredly and let him seat her on the couch.  It was warm from his presence.  “Do you want to eat anything?”

She was shaking her head before he could finish the sentence.  “I’m not hungry Mulder.  Thanks.  Listen, you don’t have to hang around here if you have something you need to - “

“Do you want me to leave?”

She looked down at her hands then, and didn’t respond.

“Scully.”  He tilted her head up toward him.  “Do you want to be alone?”

The shake of her head was almost imperceptible and he saw one last tear escape her eye.

“Good, because neither do I.”  He pulled her into his lap then and managed to hide his surprise at the lack of protest.  She just cuddled down into the comfort of him and he realized she was crying again.  She didn’t look up to see his own tears, trailing down into her hair.

When she had cried herself to sleep he thought for a minute about moving her to her bed, but found he couldn’t do it.  He needed the comfort of her as much as she seemed to need him right now.  He was stunned at the depth of his grief.  Just an hour ago he had been agonizing over whether or not he’d made the right decision.  Now, in the cold light of reality, it had been no contest.  There would be no uber-Mulders, not if she couldn’t have them.

He made himself more comfortable, stretching out on the couch with her in his arms.  He felt confident that she wouldn’t protest his presence tonight.  And there was no way he could make himself leave.

Maybe they hadn’t tried to make this baby in the old fashioned way, but it didn’t mean they loved each other any less.  This had broken down a major barrier that he realized had still existed between them.  They were intimate now, however it had happened, his seed had been in her body.  His arms tightened involuntarily and she squirmed, making herself more comfortable.

Yes, they were intimate now and he would help her understand that.  He didn’t want to scare her, or push her, but they were together.  She’d see that, when she woke up.