NEW: Thin Walls (1/1), by alanna

DISCLAIMER:  They're not mine.

CATEGORY:  MSR, a little humor, a little angst
RATING:  Strong R for sexual situations
ARCHIVAL:  My site only.  Please feel free to link to it at
http://alanna.net/fanfic/walls.html
SPOILERS:  Post-"Three Words", but before "Empedocles".
SUMMARY:  If these walls could talk...

Feedback is my favorite thing in the world -- alanna@alanna.net

THIN WALLS
by alanna

+++++

So, this is how they do it.

Well, okay, they're not "doing it" right now.  Maybe later (and that's what
I'm afraid of.)  I just mean their whole thing, you know?  Their
relationship.  So far it's just a lot of talking.

Somehow I suspected they were big talkers.  She doesn't really talk to me
all that much, but from the minute I first saw him, I could tell he's the
kind of guy who will get going and not shut up until a good ass-kicking
commences.  I have apparently been proven correct.

First, let me explain this whole situation.  Dana and I were called out of
town on what appears to be a pretty damned ordinary X-file.  Mulder has only
been back up, walking and talking, for about a week now.  She didn't seem
too thrilled to leave him back in D.C., but the job calls and that's life in
the big city.

We were given motel rooms pretty far apart from each other.  I think that
she and Mulder used to get adjoining rooms, if they even bothered, but in
the handful of cases we've had out of town, that isn't our style.  So we got
here yesterday and everything was just fine until I got back to my room
tonight and discovered no running water.  Period.

I told the manager and he stuck me in another room, right next to hers.  I
was going to knock on the door and tell her, but I heard the shower running
and it didn't seem that important.  Drew the heavy drapes to keep out the
exterior lights and stripped down to my boxers and t-shirt, then turned on
one of the beside lamps.  Did notice that I could practically hear her
breathing over the sound of the shower, the walls are so damn thin.  But
again, out of courtesy I kept mum.  Now I wish I hadn't.

Soon after the water shut off, I heard a knock at her door.  It was so loud
that at first I thought it was mine.  Her footsteps were slow, what with her
pregnancy waddle these days, and then -- lo and behold -- there's Mulder's
voice.

Dana must've looked surprised as I felt, because he said, "Miss me?"

"Mulder!" she practically yelled.  "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on my girl."  Damn, the guy had some balls on him.  That,
or Dana loved him enough to cancel the castration that would've met similar
words from me.

Frankly, the next few minutes of conversation were too boring for a
line-by-line transcription.  To summarize, Mulder was bored out of his mind
back in D.C., what with his reinstatement being in limbo and all, so he
figured he'd hop in his car and come down here to keep her company.  I think
that spying on me played a part too.  The guy doesn't trust me one bit, not
that I blame him.  Hell, I don't really trust him yet either.  So he figures
he'll shoehorn into our investigation and make sure I'm doing things
according to his definition of "right".

Of course, he doesn't say any of this.  Not that he should.  After being
gone -- hell, after being buried -- for so many months, this should be all
about him and Dana.

Speaking of her, she gave a few half-hearted protests but I could tell she
was thrilled to have him there.  Just like old times, except for my
presence.

They still don't know I'm here.  A few minutes ago, Mulder started talking
about something or another (it wasn't important enough for me to bother to
remember) and Dana shushed him.  "The walls have ears," I think she said.
Gotta love paranoia.

He retorted that all the rooms looked pretty deserted to him, "And isn't
that Doggett guy down at the other end of the building, anyway?"

Well, no, but I'm not going to tell them that.  This is entertaining in a
perverse way.  I should feel guilty, but I don't.  I've been wanting to know
just what the deal is with their relationship, and both of them are too
circumspect to ever be candid with the rest of the world.

So now I'm lying here on the bed, with a file in my lap, pretending that I'm
reading it instead of eavesdropping.

It's pretty quiet over there right now, so I pick up one of the papers and
start looking over it.  Autopsy results: just my luck.  I'd be happy to
write a dissertation on recidivism factors in former juvenile offenders
(actually, I did write one, but that's another story) like the guy we're
down here investigating, but I haven't the faintest clue what the hell to do
with data on electrolyte counts in some damn corpse.  That's Dana's job, and
she's good at it.

I'm kind of surprised I haven't heard her tell him more about the
investigation.  Of course, Mulder probably knows more about this case than I
do; I wouldn't put it past him to sweet talk his way into the local PD and
read up on it.  Maybe they're saving that conversation for later, or maybe
they're just whispering.

Apparently not.

Oh, shit.

I think I just heard a moan.

And a thud that might be the mattress against the wall.

I've never been a voyeur.  Really.  Never liked porn because it just seems
so damn sterile and boring.  If I want to see a naked woman, I'll start
dating again instead of looking at some tarted-up silicone wonder.  I'm not
a prude, but even back in college I left the dorm when my roommate brought
home his flavors of the week.  If there's sex around, I'd rather be
experiencing it than deal with too much information about a guy I have to
look at the next day.

All this might also be due to the fact that although I sowed my proverbial
wild oats back then, I also got married a week after receiving my college
diploma and a week before shipping off to Germany (University of Georgia
ROTC, Semper Fi, etc.)  Lauren, bless her, was all the woman I wanted.  She
could satisfy me in bed, plus kick my ass if I even entertained the thought
of straying.  Old habits die hard: we've been divorced for four years now,
but I still have that impulsive "Oh, shit, Lauren'll kill me" reaction when
I get attracted to a woman.  Hasn't kept me from dating since I became a
single man again, but at least it gave me a new respect for fidelity.

But yeah, I've never been one to eavesdrop on other people's sexual
activities.  And if Dana and Mulder are about to do what it sure sounds like
they're about to do, I'd best get the hell outta Dodge.  On the other hand,
they'd hear any movement I made through these thin walls, and if I left the
room I'm sure they'd want to investigate, what with their paranoia.  So I'm
stuck.

And I get the feeling they're about to do something that rhymes with
"stuck."

"Oh!  There."

Dana sounds happy.  I don't think I've ever heard this tone of voice from
her.

"Whoa."

And Mulder sounds like that guy from The Matrix.  I would have expected
something a little more articulate from him.  The guy's supposed to be
brilliant, right?  'Course, erudition tends to fly out the window when one's
about to get it on.

Or maybe not.

"Did you feel it?"

"That's him, Scully?"

"Or her."  She emphasizes the last word.  I'm going to assume that right now
he has his hand on her belly or something, feeling the baby kick.

Lucky guy.  I remember that from back when Lauren was pregnant with Luke.
It's an incredible sensation: part "Check out my virility!" and part
mushiness that men aren't supposed to express.  I'll admit that where my son
was concerned, I was 5'11" of mushiness.  I didn't show it to the world
through more than a hug or a pat on his strong little shoulders, but one
grin from that kid would make me melt.

I get the feeling that when this kid is born, Mulder will be the kind of dad
to wear his mushiness on his sleeve.  I don't think he'd care who saw it.
Good for him.  I know a little of his personal history, what with his kid
sister being abducted and all, so I figure he's entitled to massive amounts
of public displays of affection.

And speaking of those, I swear I feel the affection vibrating through this
wall at my back.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better, now that you're here."

"Why did you come out here on this assignment, anyway?"  His voice is
petulant and maybe a little bit jealous.  "You shouldn't be traveling in
your... well, with you so close to your due date."

"I'm fine, Mulder."  She says it easily, like she has said it a hundred
times before.  "And besides, this is probably the last out-of-town case I'll
be able to take before I go on leave.  Just be grateful it's within driving
distance."

He laughs.  "Yeah, three hours of you in a car with Doggett."  Gee, thanks.

I hear a rustling on the bed, as if she's trying to sit up or something.
"Oh, come on, Mulder.  He's a good man."  He doesn't say anything in
response, and she continues, "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Jealous?  Nope.  Why would I be jealous?"  I don't hear any other words,
but I get the feeling he's looking at or touching her in such a way that
says she's all his.  Nice feeling -- for him, at least.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.  It's always weird hearing someone else
talking about you.  And though he has no reason to be jealous of me, I kind
of wish he were.  Don't know why, though.

But at least this confirms a few things.  First, the baby is quite obviously
his.  Sure, I'd suspected that for a while, but Dana certainly hasn't said
anything to suggest that.  Second, I've known since he got here tonight that
they're a couple -- hell, I've had a hunch about that for a while too -- but
now I have evidence.

And it looks like I'm about to have a lot more evidence.

More thuds, then Dana murmurs, "Here, help me with this.  I can't get it
unhooked."

Ah, a bra.  She doesn't say anything else, but I'm assuming pants and
underwear are following.  After a few minutes, Mulder says a very eloquent,
"Wow."

"Wow?"

"Yeah, wow.  You just look so... whoa."  The guy does seem to like that
word.

She laughs, and sounds kind of goofy when she does so.  I don't think I've
heard her laugh before, and I like it.  "You must be kidding."  Her voice
practically drips sarcasm.  I can't imagine why.  Women look absolutely
gorgeous when they're pregnant.

Echoing my own thoughts, he replies, "What's not to love?  All those curves,
your soft skin... it's all beautiful."

"Even the stretch marks?"

"They're very cute stretch marks.  And your breasts definitely earn a
'wow'."

Okay, this is definitely veering into the territory of way too much
information.  Doesn't stop me from listening, though.  Glancing around the
room, I reassure myself that there's no way to escape without making a lot
of noise, then I screw the discomfort and just settle back to listen.

"What's this?" he asks.

Her voice gets deeper and rather subdued.  "Oh, that's from a case I was on
a couple of weeks after you disappeared.  It... I'd rather not talk about
it, okay?"

Hmm, a couple of weeks?  He must be looking at the back of her neck.
Frankly, I'd rather not remember it either, if I were her.

"But the chip's still okay, right?"

I guess she nods, because I don't hear a reply.  I know a little bit about
that chip, and Dana hasn't gone out of her way to explain what the hell it's
all about.  I asked her about it when we were in that hospital room after it
happened, and all she would say was that the chip was important and that if
I was desperate to know why, I could look it up in her files.  And yes, I
did.  Still don't understand, and given that it seems to be a sore subject,
I have no plans to ask her about it again.

I can almost feel the change in the air as they shrug off the serious stuff
and get back down to business.

"What was it like?" Mulder asks, his voice taking on that seductive tone
that sounds pretty goofy to another man.  It only really works on women, I
guess.

"What was *what* like?"

"All those second-trimester hormones.  You know, increased sexual appetite."

She laughs again.  It's a funny kind of laugh, but I still like it.  I've
finally figured out what it reminds me of: Yogi Bear.  That's not meant
disrespectfully to either Dana or Yogi.  Back in the day, Luke and I watched
a lot of cartoons, okay?

"Well...." She draws out the word.  "I learned many new and wonderful ways
to use the shower massager."

"Really?"  He sounds delighted.

"Really."  I hear a slight rip, followed by an "oops."  Guess they've moved
to the disrobing-Mulder stage.  They don't seem to care, because she
continues, "After a while, my arms weren't long enough to reach down there,
but the shower massager has a nice, long handle."

Maybe I'm being presumptuous (and maybe imagining my partner masturbating is
really, really weird, but would you be able to help it in this situation?)
but I get the feeling that those last few weeks before Mulder returned also
involved a lot of tears.  God knows that if I were her, I wouldn't be
blithely amorous as I took care of those hormones.

I get the feeling Mulder knows this too, but I seriously doubt either one of
them is going to say anything about that.  Hopefully they've talked about
that emotional stuff before now, or maybe they're just letting themselves
find joy in being together at this moment, and they'll save the sadness for
the afterglow.

"Nice, long handle, huh?"

"Yes, but not nearly as nice or as long as this."  She emphasizes the last
word.

Oh, God.  I know just what she's talking about.  Squeezing my eyes shut
doesn't do much in the way of getting rid of the mental image of her hand
squeezing Mulder's dick.

I haven't prayed in a very long time, but I start to beg God to keep me from
getting hard from the sound of Dana's bedroom voice.

Too late.

I feel ridiculous doing so, but I actually have to sit on my hands to keep
from touching myself.  No way in hell am I going to get off from this.
Nope, not gonna do it.  Blue balls are preferable to having to look her in
the eye while knowing that I came from listening to this.  Listening to them
having sex is bad enough, but that would be worse.

Why, WHY didn't I just leave the damn room when I had the chance?  It's too
late now.  They'd hear me and he'd throw on his clothes because I really
doubt she'd be able to do so quickly enough in her condition, and the last
thing I want is for him to chase me down in the parking lot.

Using an insomnia technique I picked up back in the military, I close my
eyes and start counting my deep breaths.  One, two, three.  I only get up to
twenty-two before I hear another moan, and whoosh, there go all hopes of
being able to sleep through this.

"Hand me one of those pillows, Scully."  Something scrapes against the wall,
so I guess she's handing one over.  "Now, raise your hips."

Shit.  Must be cunnilingus time.

(Under normal circumstances, I'd say something like, "time to lick her until
she screams," but right now I think that technical terminology is the best
route to take.)

"Oh.  OH!"  The last one is more of a moan than anything.  "God, I missed
this."

I hate my life.  I really do.  But I'm not sure if that's because I hate
being in this situation or because a little part of me wishes I were in
Mulder's position.  I've never had any sexual thoughts about Dana -- well,
okay, I've seldom had them -- but come on, wouldn't you want to be him right
now?

The mattress starts creaking and I hear some scratches at the wall, like
she's frantically trying to grip something.  C'mon, Dana, grab his hair.
Guys like that.  Trust me.  'Course, she probably couldn't reach far enough
around that big belly of hers.

I wonder what would happen if I started shouting suggestions through the
wall.  Hmm.  Then I have to wonder how it would feel to be castrated,
because that sure as hell would happen if I did.  That makes me chuckle, but
I really doubt they hear me.

Memories of pregnancy sex with Lauren flood my brain.  We're both
intelligent, but we weren't very creative.  Mulder seems imaginative,
though.  I'm curious what he'll decide to do.

I also remember the shape of Lauren's pregnant body.  Not a lot of room down
there, what with her protruding belly.  Dana must be lying almost flat on
the bed for Mulder to be able to get his face down there without his nose
bumping her stomach.

If that's the case, I'm a little worried.  My ex-wife used to have to sleep
on her side because of some blood vessel that the baby would crush if she
lay on her back.  Eh, Dana's a doctor.  I'm sure she knows what she's doing.

Yup, that loud breathing and squeal pretty much proves that she knows
exactly what she's doing -- or, she does if she's capable of coherent
thought right now.

Congratulations, Mulder.  You just gave your pregnant partner/lover an
orgasm.  Here, have a cigar.  May it be the first of many.

Being an FBI agent is tough work.  You have to pass a physical each year,
and running and skulking and various related shenanigans are part and parcel
of the job description.  It shouldn't surprise me that Dana and Mulder are
apparently fit enough to start going at it almost immediately after her
climax, but they do.

Not even a breather for these two intrepid folks.  They could at least do me
the courtesy of rolling over and going to sleep so I could slip out of this
room, but no such luck.  I can't blame him, though.  Just because she has
gotten off doesn't mean that he has to go to sleep unsatisfied.

Now I must briefly pause to breathe deeply and get rid of the bit of nausea
conjured by the thought of him being satisfied, because that means I have to
start thinking of him having sex.  And while Scully's climax is
uncomfortable enough, there are some things a guy just doesn't want to think
about another man doing.  Listening to her getting off is okay, because of
the whole "I wonder how she'd sound if that were me doing those things"
factor, but mutual gratification quells fantasy.

Hell, I'm not making sense any more.  I should go to sleep.  But the sounds
next door don't give me hope of that happening anytime soon.

Thud.

Scratch.

Crinkle.

Oh, please.  That last one sounded a hell of a lot like a condom wrapper.
Hey, folks?  It's about seven months too late for prophylactics.

"Hang on," Mulder groans.  "Okay, there."

Shit.  Am I going to get a play-by-play too?

"Since when did you start shopping at Crabtree and Evelyn, Mulder?"

Ah, I think I see where this is going.

"I didn't 'shop' there, Scully.  I happened to wander into the one down the
street from my apartment, and they had free samples."  He pauses, and she
must be giving him a Look.  "Hey, the display said this stuff would smooth
even the roughest skin."

"Are you saying my skin is rough?"

Sure didn't look rough to me this afternoon.  Of course, I wasn't touching
her at the time, so maybe I'm not getting the full effect.

I guess he's too busy rubbing her naked belly or something to reply, because
she moans a little then says, "Mmm, lavender.  Another reason for me to love
you."

The answer to the $64,000 question.

I got the feeling that they loved each other, but damned if they'd give me
any specific proof.  This certainly seems to be proof enough.  His next
words surprise me, though.

"You love me?"

I don't know whether to feel sorry for him, get a little mushy inside, or
smack Mulder upside the head.  Of course she loves you, asshole.  She's
carrying your kid.  She damn near went to pieces when you were gone.
Haven't you seen the way she looks at you?

She must have the same look on her face, because she doesn't say anything to
him.  So Mulder provides his own answers.  "Well, I thought you did."  A
pause for what I assume is another Look from her.  "I *knew* you did.  Do.
I just... it's been a long time, Scully.  You've been so tense since I got
back, but then I know you have your reasons.  And it's not like I've been
very forthright, either."

I imagine he's smiling now.  I just hope he doesn't have tears in his eyes,
but he probably does.  He seems like the type.

"I'm sorry, Scully.  Of course you love me.  I love you too.  Everything is
just so goddamned confusing these days."

Her reply is muffled, but I think she says, "For obvious reasons."  Trust
her not to just come right out with the reciprocal mushiness, but that's
okay.

I hear more muffled sounds but no more words, so I guess she's kissing him
or something.  Showing him that she loves him.  It's kind of sweet.  And I
kind of respect him for having the balls to be honest and open about his
insecurities.  If it were me, I'd just stew in silence.

Come to think of it, all that stewing is what led to me and Lauren breaking
up.  After Luke's death, we just stopped talking altogether.  The only time
we'd even pretend to be close to each other was during sex, and most of the
time it was to assuage guilt and pain.  Not very healthy at all.  I'd like
to think I've learned from my mistakes and won't make the same ones in my
next relationship, but given that I've basically avoided relationships since
the divorce, that's not looking likely.

Those muffled sounds melt into moans, and for the first time tonight, I'm
glad.  Listening to them making love is pretty bad, but at least it keeps me
from having to think about all that painful stuff with Lauren and Luke.

I close my eyes and just listen to them.  But with my eyelids a black
canvas, I can't help but start to visualize just what's going on next door.
In my mind's eye, his back is to me, which is good.  Like I said earlier,
Mulder's face is the last thing I want on my mind, even in my imagination.
Imagining Dana like this is weird, but I guess it's no weirder than anything
else tonight.

She's lying back on the bed, her shoulders propped up on some pillows.  Her
hair's all messed up and her face is relaxed -- she looks really pretty.
That belly of hers is easy to imagine, since it's been front-and-center for
the past couple of months.  It's not all that big, though, for a woman in
her seventh month of pregnancy, so I guess the kid must be on the small
side.  Junior's taking after Mom in that respect.  Lucky for him or her.

If Lauren were here she'd probably disagree.  Mulder has those looks that
women always seem to go for.  Me, I'd prefer a kid that looked like Dana
over the alternative any day.  Must be a male/female perspective thing.

Her breasts seem to have gotten bigger, not that I could've guessed much
about their normal state from back when she wasn't yet showing.  Lauren's
the opposite;  she used to grumble about wanting reduction surgery, and they
got huge once Luke was born and she started nursing.  Eh, I was pretty fond
of them both big and even bigger.  Now that's definitely a guy thing.

Anyway, back to Dana.  Or, perhaps not.  The visualization thing is just too
weird.  I make another vain attempt to close my eyes and go to sleep, but
nothing happens.  At least I'm not all that hard anymore, and without the
extra-special bonus of blue balls.  I'd cheer, but really, what's the point?

By now they seem to heading into the nonverbal portion of the evening, which
is just fine with me.  Neither one of them seems like a screamer, and moans
are pretty easy to ignore, so long as they're not loud.

I'm just settling into an almost-doze when -- of course -- I hear Mulder
quite clearly say, "What's that?"  Really, the guy needs to learn to speak
more softly, even when he thinks the room next door is empty.  When that kid
is born she's going to be begging them to let her sleep through the night,
instead of vice-versa.

"That hasn't happened before."  Her voice is quieter.  There's a pause, and
I guess he's asking what.  She replies, "It's colostrum."

"Not much of it yet."  I guess Mulder has done his research.

"Oh, there will be later.  I was expecting it to start sometime soon, since
I'm in my twenty-ninth week."  She chuckles and makes this pensive sound.

"I'm glad I didn't miss this milestone, at least."  Mulder's voice sounds
sad, and it hits me just how much of her pregnancy he has missed.

I got the impression from Dana's behavior a few months ago that despite the
in-vitro thing, she hadn't planned on getting pregnant.  Once I learned she
was, it was pretty obvious to me that the baby was Mulder's, and I really
doubt he'd plan on having a kid if he knew he was dying.  It's a good thing
that whatever happened to him when Dana saved his life at the hospital got
rid of the brain disease.

But yeah, now I feel bad for the guy.  I remember all of those little
milestones with Lauren.  The first sonogram, first kick, first "get the hell
out of here because I'm really not in the mood to see you, John, since it's
your fault my back hurts and I can't keep breakfast down."  Well, okay, the
last one isn't a fond memory, but you get the point.

"Have I told you lately how happy I am that you're back, Mulder?"

I assume that makes him smile.  "Yeah, you did about twenty minutes ago."

"Then I'll plan to tell you every twenty minutes, Mulder, as long as you're
here to hear it."  She must be smiling now too.

It's quite touching, really.

One thing this whole evening has reluctantly shown me is that, in addition
to having a sexual stamina I only wish I could possess, I was wrong about
Mulder.  He's not the self-absorbed nut job I'd figured he was back when I
first started investigating his disappearance.  Sure, it was a valid
assumption at the time, given the evidence, and I can still see that side of
him in the handful of times we've had direct contact since he returned.

But now I'm seeing this softer side of him, and it's pretty interesting.  He
seems sensitive and caring, in a truly masculine sense.  Plus, he seems to
love the hell outta Dana, and I'm glad for her sake.  It contradicts all
those Bureau warnings about partners becoming romantically involved, though
the warnings are probably valid in most other situations.

And tonight is showing me a whole other side of Dana.  It's like she's a
completely different person.  For the past five months, she has been so damn
serious -- almost cold.  More than once I thought that it wasn't good for
the baby, and would have told her so except I honest-to-God feared her
wrath.  Not a kicking-and-screaming wrath, but like playing hockey on a
newly-frozen lake.  You screw up, and you're going to fall through the
surface and freeze to death.

Oh, sure, since Mulder returned she has been serious, but I can see a softer
side to her now, especially tonight.  She's becoming the kind of woman I
could fall hard for.  Intelligent and strong, and also soft and fucking
gorgeous.  I'll just keep her in mind as an archetype, though, and that
should be easy to do.  I've never been in the habit of taking other guys'
women.

Now they really do seem to have moved into the nonverbal part of the
activity, thank God.  I was right about neither of them being screamers.  I
barely even hear a moan, and at least the headboards are bolted to the wall.
I'm kind of curious how he's managing to maneuver around her belly, but that
would involve visualization, and I've sworn that off.

At least heavy breathing doesn't seem to filter through the walls now.  It
gets pretty quiet, aside from some rustling and an occasional thud.

Then it really does get quiet.  I guess they've both come by now.  Time for
another cigar, Mulder.

This means that I can finally get some sleep, except my mind is too keyed up
right now.  I'm more awake than I've ever been.  I start to think of all the
things left undone, like brushing my teeth and gulping down the vitamins
Lauren got me in the habit of taking all those years ago.  One night without
either probably won't hurt.  I slowly sink down onto the bed and rest my
head against the pillow, thankful that the room's warm that I can sleep in
my boxers and t-shirt, without turning on the heater.

I'm lying there, using those insomnia techniques again, when I hear voices.
Damn it, here we go again.

But when they start to talk, I'm so touched that I don't mind anymore.

"Thank you, Mulder."

"You too, Scully.  Making love to you is... well, maybe this sounds corny,
but it makes me happier than I imagined I could ever be."

He's right.  It does sound corny -- or it would from any other guy, but with
him, it's really kind of sweet.

She's quiet for a very long moment, and Mulder must be worried he said the
wrong thing.  Hell, I'm worried too.  Since when did I get so emotionally
invested in the extremely intimate details of their relationship?  Maybe it
was since a half-hour ago, when I heard him get so thrilled at feeling the
baby kick.

Then she says, "No, I meant thank you for being alive.  And thank you for
this child."

Now it's his turn to get quiet.

When she starts talking again, her voice speeds up like she's trying to
reassure him.  "I felt hurt when you became lucid again, and I couldn't
imagine why you were acting so distant about my pregnancy.  It took me a
while to realize that you were still getting used to something that I'd been
experiencing for almost seven months.  And there was my infertility to
consider.  We certainly never thought this would happen."

"No, we didn't."  I can barely make out his voice.  It's small, like a
kid's.  Maybe with a little bit of intimidation or fear.

"Mulder?"

I don't hear any words from him, so I guess he nods.

"If we'd known this could happen, would you have wanted us to use protection
when we first became lovers?"

Whoa.  Loaded question, especially coming from a seven-months-pregnant woman
who just got back the partner/lover she'd thought was dead.

Yet another long silence, then he finally speaks.  "There are so many
reasons not to bring a child into the world -- at least, not now.  We have
this colonization threat hanging over our heads.  Both of us are so absorbed
by our work that we can't just hang up our holsters and move out to suburbia
and get a minivan."

His words sound like he's saying yes, but I really don't get the feeling
that he is.  It's like he's trying to acknowledge the opposing arguments
before he moves in for the kill.  The guy must have been one hell of an
asset to his high school debate team.

"True," she says.  She sounds sad.

"But Scully?"  I'd like to think he's stroking her belly or something as he
says that.  "Nothing in the world can ever make me happier than knowing that
our child is growing inside of you.  How miraculous is that?"

I could swear I hear a sob from her, but it might be my imagination.  "Yes,
Mulder."  Her voice wavers a little.  "It's a miracle."  She pauses.  "I
never gave up hoping for one."

The other room falls silent and my body starts to relax.  I glance over at
the alarm clock.  It's only 10:30 P.M.  As long as they stay quiet, I can
still get in eight hours of sleep.

As has become their pattern, they choose that moment to start talking again,
but this time I don't mind too much.

"So," he says, "be honest this time.  Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I have no idea."

"You don't?"  His voice gets a little louder.  I guess it's playful shock.

"I kind of like the idea of keeping it a surprise.  We've certainly built
our lives on them, haven't we?  I've had every possible test done, and I
know for a fact the baby is healthy, so I'd like to maintain this little
element of mystery."

He chuckles, sounding just as surprised as I am that she wouldn't have found
out the baby's sex the minute she could.  "You do realize, Scully, that
you'll have to keep me away from all future ultrasound visits.  I'm going to
nag you for the next two months."

"Oh, I'm sure I can find other ways of keeping you satisfied."

Hearing Dana's bedroom voice isn't jarring anymore; after hearing her have
sex, I don't think anything else about her will faze me in the future.

"And you will be there, Mulder.  I intend for you to be fully involved in
everything to do with this child's life from now on."  Her voice drops to
almost a whisper, and I can't clearly make out her words.  I think she says,
"I've seen the alternative, and it nearly destroyed me."

I hope he didn't hear it clearly either, because it's such a sad thing to
say and I want them to stay on this little cloud they've been on all
evening.

As my body settles into a drowsy lassitude, I hear some slow movements next
door.  I imagine he's pulling her close to him, his forehead in the crook of
her neck and his hand splayed over her belly the way I used to hold Lauren.

I wonder what they'll be like when I see them tomorrow morning.  Will he
make his presence known to me, or will he skulk away into the shadows while
she goes about her business?  Will Dana's face shine with the afterglow, or
will she put on her professional mask and become the hard-edged Special
Agent I've known for the past five months?  Will her body seem to thrum with
happiness?

The last words I hear from next door as I drift off to sleep are, "I love
you, Scully."

"And I love you too, Mulder."

God bless 'em both.  They've earned it.

Good night.

+++++

END (1/1)

alanna@alanna.net

Mil gracias to Emma Brightman for sheer enthusiasm and great beta, Jenna for
invaluable help with the Doggett characterization (and for the inspiration
to write this in the first place), and Diana for all the support!