9/30/00 Title: Comes the Dawn Author: ML Email: msnsc21@aol.com Feedback: Yes, please Distribution: I will send to Ephemeral; anyone else, please ask so I can come visit. Spoilers: through end of Season 7 Rating: Teens and older Classification: MSR Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: To paraphrase Dorothy L. Sayers, this is a love story with paranormal interludes. This series is mostly about Mulder and Scully coming to terms with the new turn their lives are taking. But there's a story here, too, somewhere . Author's notes: This is the third of what's turning into a series. It started with "Another Gray Morning" and "Transfigured Night." Both are on Ephemeral. You don't absolutely have to read those to get this, but it might help. Comes the Dawn by ML The sound of the baby in his crib woke her up. She lay half asleep, listening to him, knowing more or less how much time she has before the coos turn into wails of hunger. Little by little she realizes that the pillow she hugs to herself is breathing, and that her hand clutches not pillowcase but tee shirt. It isn't merely the weight of the bedclothes she feels, but an arm wrapped around her waist. And Mulder's scent, long faded from the tee shirt she wears, surrounds her. As does Mulder. She opens her eyes and reassures herself that this isn't another dream, then carefully extricates herself from his grasp and goes to the baby. She glances back to the bed where Mulder has shifted onto his back, sprawled over most of the bed. Her heart catches in her throat, remembering another time and place when she saw him lying just like that, a half-smile playing about his lips. They hadn't been lovers very long then. In fact, that night had been the first time they'd made love in weeks. He'd been so angry about her adventure with Smoking Man, and she had gone through her own period of questioning whether or not they should continue to pursue a deeper relationship or resist succumbing again. Perhaps that had been the night, the night she finally realized that all roads in her life led to Mulder, the night their child had been conceived. She still didn't know how she'd been able to, or if the child in her arms now was vouchsafed them for some dark purpose. Now that Mulder was back, together they could pursue the answers. She carries their child out to the living room and lowers herself carefully onto the couch, settling the baby in her lap to nurse as she looks out the window at the first glimmerings of dawn. As precious as the night before had been, Scully senses it is probably the only moment of normalcy they will have for some time, possibly the last moment of normalcy they will ever have. They don't do normal well. No matter what she claims to want, she can't see that having a baby suddenly making a normal life possible or any easier to obtain. Mulder had seemed entranced last night, but in the cold light of day what was fair to expect of him? He'd been gone for the better part of a year, and has known about the baby for less than twenty-four hours. In theory, she thinks he'd make a good father. In practice, the idea of either of them as parents is incredible. Their world is full of such danger, and with the possibility of the world changing--not just *their* world, but *the* world, if invasion fears become reality-- the future is unimaginable. She'd tried to express her fears to her mother. Maggie Scully in turn had tried to put those fears to rest. "Dana, there has always been fear of the future. It gets worse when you're a parent. When you were growing up, it was the threat of nuclear war. When I was a child, first there was World War II, then the Korean War. You may fear such things when you have only yourself to consider, but when someone else--especially a child--enters the picture, you start to feel overwhelmed and even less equal to face the future." Maggie took her youngest by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. "God will give you the strength when you need it, Dana. Remember that." Scully knows that her mother is at least partly right, though of course Mom couldn't know what *she* fears for the future. It would be too easy to be paralyzed by fear, however. She will just have to learn how to face it. It had seemed harder when she thought she'd have to face it alone. Still, she wants to be sure that Mulder really wants this responsibility and what changes it meant for him and for them. Last night neither of them had wanted to get too deeply into such a discussion. It had been enough to hold and be held, to kiss and be kissed. But they would have to talk about this. Unlike they way they'd finally become lovers, with almost no discussion at all. Mulder had kissed her on New Year's and neither of them had said anything about it. It was like the time they'd almost kissed in his hallway; he'd never once referred to it again, and neither had she. Then, not long after New Year's, Mulder started showing up on her doorstep with microwave popcorn and videos instead of a casefiles, and even invited her over to his place once in a while. Little by little on those nights, they'd edge closer to each other on the couch. Sometimes he'd make the first move, sometimes she did. They'd hold hands tentatively. Eventually they were leaning into each other, shoulder to shoulder. Sometimes Scully would end up dozing on Mulder, and wake up to find his arm around her. Mulder started giving her a good night kiss when he left. Somewhere along the way one or the other of them offered up a kiss during a video, and after that more than one movie ended unnoticed as they kissed. It was inevitable that one night Mulder would ask her to stay. Up until that point, Scully had still felt conflicting emotions about their changing relationship, and though she had welcomed Mulder's overtures and had even made a few herself, she felt unable to take that final step. It seemed to her that Mulder had waited until one of the rare nights at his place to ask her, giving her an out if she wanted it. She smiles at the memory of that night. It had been awkward at first, but in the end, both satisfying and somehow rather sweet. Considering who they were and what they'd been through, sweet would be that last word she could have imagined using to describe their union. That night, she'd seen a side of Mulder only hinted at before. She knew he could be tender; he'd shown her tenderness on several occasions in the past. But that night he'd made love to her in a way that revealed to her the depth of his feelings and desires. He'd made it all about her, about what she liked, what she wanted and needed. He seemed to take the most pleasure in pleasing her. Maybe he thought he'd only get one chance, so he gave it everything he had. As single-minded as he'd seemed to be about his quest over the years, he'd obviously spared more than a few hours of thought for her. It enabled her to finally admit to herself the depth of the feelings she had for Mulder. That first night had been a time out of time for them, a respite from the cares and troubles which plagued them and would continue to plague them. Soon enough, the real world intruded again. Though they were as professional as always with each other on the job, their personal relationship did add an edge to their discussions sometimes. Scully felt more protective of Mulder than ever. She was a little less patient with both the physical and emotional risks he took. Yet she also enjoyed the new dimension this change added to their daily lives. Their banter seemed filled with secret meaning, encoded in a way only they could understand. She was pretty sure Skinner began to suspect at about the time the Amber Lynn LaPierre case started, and by the time they'd returned from California, he knew for sure. He kept it to himself, though, letting on only by the occasional sharp look or pointed comment. He never said anything that actually needed to be answered, but he made it clear that he knew. The unspoken agreement seemed to be that as long as they were discreet, nothing would be said. The one time Mulder almost went off the deep end was when she went away with Smoking Man. Once she'd returned, he seemed barely able to stand looking at her, but allowed her to coax him into bed anyway. It had been a joyless coupling. He would not look at her, but drove himself to posses her, as though to win back her soul from the devil. Likewise she pulled him to her, gripping him like a last handhold on sanity. They exhausted each other that night, and passed out rather than slept, backs to each other. The next morning Mulder reached out for her and held her close, once again letting his actions speak rather than words. They clung to each other in fear and relief and then never spoke of the incident again. And so, until Oregon, life had gone on. If they weren't actively involved in a case, Mulder showed up on her doorstep Friday night. Next morning, they would part ways for a while and later in the day one would call the other and they would decide where to spend Saturday evening. The pretense that either had any kind of life other than the one they shared was pretty much over. They never spoke of the future or made any plans. Scully had felt reasonably content with the arrangement. They'd taken so long to get to this place, she was in no hurry to move it along any faster, or change their status. She'd told Mulder one night that she was reasonably happy, and as she said it, realized that it was true. They had won through some very difficult times, both personally and professionally, and certainly the challenges would not cease in either arena, but for the moment, they were where they wanted to be. Just before Mulder was taken, they finally told each other what each meant to the other. It occurred in the usual roundabout way, and in fact at first Scully thought that Mulder was actually trying to end their intimacy. In hindsight, there had been a sense of impending doom over the whole case. Maybe it was only because the X Files division itself was once again under siege. Or because she was feeling ill and didn't yet know the cause. Whatever the reason, when Mulder first suggested she go home without him, she'd feared he was having second thoughts about their relationship. "There's so much more for you to do" sounded like goodbye to her, like he felt he was holding her back in some way. In fact, until he declared back in Washington that he didn't want to lose her, that fear stayed with her. They'd had so little time to say goodbye before Mulder went back to Bellefleur. A few heartfelt words, an exchange of tokens, while Skinner waited in the other room. She'd wanted to go with him so badly, but was afraid of compromising his investigation through her illness. For once, she had given in to his pleas. Then Mulder was gone, and she found out about the baby, and people had to be told. Skinner. The Gunmen. Her mother. The sleepless nights, keeping vigil in Mulder's apartment, hoping against hope he would just show up. The endless searching for any clue at all as to his whereabouts. The growing fear that he would never return, that she would have to live her life without him, that something would happen to her or to the baby, or both of them. The long, agonizing weeks of inaction before and after the baby's birth. The baby has long since satisfied his appetite and is now asleep at her breast. She can see that the sun is above the horizon now. Skinner will no doubt be here before very long. She remains where she is on the couch, not wanting to take the chance of disturbing Mulder before he is ready to wake up. x x x His surroundings seem familiar, but in a distant way, an old memory. Gradually he realizes he is in a bed, not his own. The earliest light of dawn shows around the edges of the blind. He reaches his hand out, meeting nothing but slightly warm sheets and another pillow, still indented with the impression of another head. Scully's head. Her bed, her apartment. His home, he thinks. He hopes. It's the only home he has for now. He's pretty sure his apartment is long gone. Scully has his power of attorney, so it's possible she withdrew enough funds to pay the rent. Just one more mundane detail they still need to discuss. Whether he still has an apartment or not, they need to discuss living arrangements anyway. He won't presume that she wants him that thoroughly in her life, or that she even needs him. He was gone when she needed him most, and that is a guilt he will have to add to his collection. He can count on his fingers the number of times he'd stayed the night at her place after they became lovers, and there were even fewer at his, though he had the honor of hosting their first night together. He grinned at the memory. They'd been making out like teenagers on his sofa, and he'd whispered in her ear that he wanted her to stay. Then he panicked, wondering if there were clean sheets on the bed. Nothing like planning ahead. He'd been waiting for Scully to give him some sort of sign, or to ask *him* to stay. That night he decided he didn't want to wait any longer. All she could do is say no, and go home. And break his heart, destroy his peace of mind, and any hope of ever picking up the pieces of his life again. He was sure his expression showed all that. She did say yes, however, and while she was in the bathroom, he did the fastest bed making he'd done since he was a kid and he and Samantha raced each other. The removed sheets got stuffed into his closet, along with some stray articles of clothing that somehow had ended up on his bedroom floor. Other than the initial panic, it had been a wonderful night. He'd made love to Scully in his imagination so many times, planned what he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it, that at first it seemed a continuation of a really good dream. Not that his imagination, as inventive as it could be, compared in any way to the reality of Scully in his arms and in his bed. After that night, it did not magically get easier for them in either their public or private lives. The year leading up to his abduction, in fact, had been one of the worst for him. he thinks. He grins a little ruefully. If they can survive a year like that, can't they survive whatever lies ahead? Scully did not press him at all last night. Except for one slightly challenging comment about caring for the baby, she did not make assumptions about how they would go forward. The only thing he knows for sure was that she had always believed in his return. In fact, her faith in his return had moved him more than he could express to her last night, though he'd certainly tried. He reminds himself that while only a couple of days have passed for him since his abduction, Scully has lived almost another year of her life. A year without him, that, even though she will tell him about it, he did not experience at her side. It's like the weekend he went to England, only much, much worse. He feels like he will never catch up. He hears voices from the other room. Unless Junior has grown up in a hurry, Scully has a visitor. He gets up, finds his jeans, and decides to go find out what's going on. Skinner is sitting in the armchair, his arms full of baby, who doesn't seem to mind at all. Mulder feels very odd, and identifies the feeling as jealousy. Skinner gives him an inscrutable look and says good morning. Scully reappears from the kitchen with a tray. Belatedly, Mulder realizes it would make sense if he took the baby from Skinner, since Scully is still holding the tray. She smiles her approval as Mulder somewhat gingerly accepts his son and sits with him on the couch. "Why don't you sit in the rocker, Mulder, he likes that better," Scully suggests, and returns to the kitchen. She comes back with another mug of coffee, which she places on a low table next to the rocker. After a few moments of rocking, Mulder looks down to see that the baby has in fact fallen asleep. He looks up at Scully and over to Skinner. The tension in the air is palpable. It all seems so surreal. He's sitting in a rocking chair in Scully's living room with Skinner, holding a baby. *His* baby. He's had some pretty weird dreams, but none of them compares to this. Skinner is staring moodily into his coffee mug. Finally, Mulder says, "Did you camp out on the doorstep last night?" Skinner gives Mulder his best AD stare. On most agents, it produces the desired result. It doesn't have much effect on Mulder, though, who just stares back, face in the expressionless mode which means that his brain is at its busiest. Skinner says tightly, "I don't think it's a good idea to broadcast Agent Mulder's presence." Mulder thinks for a moment maybe he's disappeared again. Skinner is looking at Scully. She has that defiant lift to her chin he knows so well. Without her eyes leaving Skinner's, she says, "Mulder, Mom called this morning. I told her you were back." To Skinner she says, "It's my mother. She deserves to know." Mulder interrupts. "I don't think telling Scully's mom represents any kind of a threat. I sure wouldn't call telling her `broadcasting.' I suppose the boys have done their usual electronic checking?" "Of course they have." Skinner heaves off the armchair and paces away and then back to face Mulder. "But we still don't know who we're up against. Krycek has disappeared again, as has Marita Covarrubias. Since Smoking Man's - Spender's- death, they've been out of contact." "Understandable, if they did really kill him," Mulder says. When Skinner first gave him the news of the old man's death, he hadn't believed it. Smoking Man has a way of reappearing at the most inopportune time. "You're sure he's really dead?" "His nurse called 911 when he was attacked," Skinner says. "His body was still in situ when the police arrived." "But did anyone perform an autopsy?" Mulder persists. Skinner shook his head. "Scully was in the hospital, and I was in Oregon. By the time I got back, someone had claimed the body." "So, no autopsy, no body." Mulder grins. "I'd be inclined to say even if an autopsy *had* been performed, that it's no proof, unless Scully did it. But even Scully's had bodies disappear on her." "Yeah, both living and dead." Scully reaches down to take the sleeping baby from Mulder and takes him back to his crib. Mulder gets up from the rocker and goes to sit on the couch, hoping Scully will come back in and sit next to him. She does just as he hopes, close enough for her leg to brush against his. He feels a surge of protectiveness. He reaches out and meets her fingers searching for his, and they weave together. he thinks. Skinner flicks his eyes to their hands and then away. He says to Mulder, "I want you to go see the Gunmen with me this afternoon. We have a lot to go over with you." Scully objects, "I want Mulder to be checked out by a doctor first." Both Mulder and Skinner object back, though for different reasons. "I don't think it's a good idea for Mulder to go out in public yet," Skinner says. "You can do at least a preliminary examination, can't you?" Mulder simply cannot resist responding to this. "Ooh, Scully, will you play doctor with me?" "Are you sure you want that, Mulder?" she says sweetly. "Remember I cut up dead people for a living." She turns to Skinner and says, "I think he needs a full battery of tests, and I can't do all that. There's got to be some way." Mulder protests, "Scully, I'm okay. I don't need no stinkin' tests." It's already starting, that headlong rush into the future. He used to relish it, used to worry he might be missing something. Now he wants to slow time down, try to figure things out by taking a long look at them for a change. He wants more time alone with Scully, to try and figure out how to talk to her, how to say what he needs to say, and to find out what she will say to him. Once again, they'll be lucky to grab a few moments here, a few there. And no time to talk, to think, to savor. Both Skinner and Scully ignore his words and Skinner tells Scully, "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, do what you can. I'll give you until one o'clock. Mulder, be ready to go by then." After Skinner leaves, Mulder throws himself back on the couch and leans back, hands behind his head. "Well, dear," he says, grinning at Scully, "what shall we name the baby?" end. Thanks for reading! Any comments, questions, etc. received with delight (and answered) at msnsc21@aol.com