Coloring Outside The Lines Author: Emily Sim Rating: R for adult themes Category: AU/MSR of a sort Spoilers: None Disclaimer: Still don't own them, no money changed hands and I always put them back when I'm done. Notes: Many thanks go out to xdks who makes my work readable - she is truly a gem and I'm honored to count her as friend. Thanks also to Conundrum who whose honest comments helped clean this thing up and to Siggy for always being willing to let me try out my new ideas on her. Special thanks to bellefleur, who keeps me grounded in so many different ways. Summary: I think you'll just have to read it. Feedback to: xf_emily_sim@yahoo.ca *************** Coloring Outside The Lines June 2006 ************** "Stand still, Megs." Scully fussed with the bow of the dress, straightening out the ties. "It's fine, Mommy." She shifted from foot to foot impatiently. "Daddy won't care." "I care, Meg." She smoothed the back of the dress down and gave her daughter a pat. "There, perfect." Meghan whirled around and planted a sloppy kiss on her mother's cheek. "Thanks, Mommy." Scully's smile was sad. "You're welcome, sweetie. Now go get your bag and your shoes and set them by the door so you won't keep your daddy waiting." She watched Meghan skip through the door, her long dark hair a striking contrast against the pink dress. It always surprised her how much more like Melissa she was. And Mulder. There was so much of him in their little girl. She tucked a stray hair behind one ear and headed downstairs. There was a good chance Meghan had got sidetracked and she didn't want to have Mulder waiting longer than necessary. "Boo!" Meghan jumped out from behind the family room door. Scully gave a startled yelp and then laughed. A precocious 4 year-old, Meghan loved to play this particular game, enjoyed trying to scare her. "You monkey. Where are your shoes?" "There." She stuck her chin out and pointed towards the front door. "How come, Mommy?" "How come what, sweetie?" "Daddy." Scully felt her stomach lurch. She knew exactly what her precious daughter was asking. They'd been over it so many times Meghan had the question down to a single word. She asked it each and every time she spent the night with Mulder. "Not now, Meghan." She had no single word answer for her daughter and now was not the time to get into it. Again. "Get your shoes on, honey." Meghan dutifully did as she was told. "Hold on a sec, Megs, I think you should take something in case it cools off later." She opened the closet and pulled out a jacket. "Yuck, I don't like that one." Meghan slipped her black Mary Janes off and ran up the stairs, returning a short time later with a green sweater. "Just like the flowers in your garden, Mommy." Ah, the Sweet Williams they'd planted last weekend. "You're prettier than the flowers." "You're pretty too, Mommy." Scully smiled, Meghan's exuberance was hard to resist. "I think I hear a car. Why don't you check?" Meghan pulled the door open a crack and then, with a squeal of delight, opened it further. "Daddy's here! And he's in the black one, Mommy." SCULLY KNEW WHAT THE 'BLACK ONE' MEANT. AFTER YEARS OF A SPARTAN EXISTENCE, MULDER HAD SUDDENLY DISCOVERED HE LIKED BUYING CARS. AT LEAST THE BMW ONLY HAD TWO SEATS; SHE WOULDN'T HAVE TO BE TREATED TO THE SIGHT OF SOMEONE ELSE OCCUPYING THE FRONT WITH HIM. She bent down to give Meghan a kiss and hug. Overnight bag in hand, and Meghan in front of her for good measure, she opened the door wider. She needn't have worried; Mulder had opted to stand by the car and wait. She returned his wave. "Bye, Mommy." Meghan was already on her way so Scully's answering goodbye was missed. With a quick nod to Mulder, she closed the door. It echoed loudly in the hallway. ************ Scully had a fire lit in the patio chimney, and a bottle of red wine to keep her company. She determined it was going to be one of those nights shortly after Meghan left and the silence seemed to weigh her down. She made a weak attempt to call and elicit company, but no one was available. Even Maggie had a date. It was her mom's second or third with the same man, someone she'd met through the singles and widowers club at the church. Maggie had dragged her to one of those functions last month and it had been a depressing experience. There had been the usual contingent of widowed men and women roughly the same age as her mom, and then there had been the younger set; the single moms and the much smaller group of single dads and divorced men. She felt like she was on display and found wanting. She wasn't good at small talk, at least not the kind that the situation demanded. Pathology just wasn't the sort of work that lent itself to funny stories, at least not what most men found funny. She listened courteously as a couple of the men made weak attempts to hit on her, leaving as soon as it was polite to do so. Scully took another sip of wine, welcoming the warmth that ran from her head to her toes, and thought back. It was almost a year now and the wound was still raw. She closed her eyes and let the pain wash over her. ********* August 15, 2005 Scully pulled her mask and gloves off. It had been another long day and her fatigue was compounded by lack of sleep. She buzzed for the diener to come and finish up. A shower would eat up more precious minutes, but it was essential. She briefly thought about calling her mother to pick Meghan up, but didn't want to get into another argument with her. Meghan been at daycare since eight that morning and it was doubtful Mulder had thought about picking her up. "What else is new." "Pardon me?" Scully turned, startled. "Sorry, Jake, I didn't realize you were there." "S'okay, Dr. Scully. All done?" "Yeah. Thanks, Jake." "No problem, it's why they pay me the big bucks. Have a nice night." "You too." Scully showered quickly, tying her wet hair into a pony tail, affirming once again that growing her hair out had been a smart move. It had literally taken an hour off her morning preparations and at times like this it was a godsend. She tossed her used scrubs into the hamper and changed. Soon she was making her way to the FBI Daycare Centre located on the second floor. Meghan was hungry, tired, and grouchy, adding to her mother's well-honed guilt. "Come on, honey." "I'm tired." Meghan flopped down at her feet. "Mommy's too tired to carry you tonight, pumpkin, and you're a big girl. Three-year-olds walk; up you get, Megs." Meghan began whining, her limbs limp as Scully tried to get her up. "Not now, Meghan, Mommy's had a long day. Get up." "I can't." Tears were added to her whining. "Meghan Christina Mulder, up now." Scully made another attempt to lift her, but the child's arms slipped through her hands like wet noodles. God, she hated when Meghan did this. Susan, one of the caregivers intervened, giving Scully a knowing smile and addressing Meghan. "Up you get, Meghan. Time for all of us to go." Meghan regarded Susan for a moment and then sulkily complied. Scully felt a wash of guilt. It was bad enough that she was late, but worse was the sense that she was denying Meghan something by working. Watching her respond to the staff rather than herself hurt. The last month had been particularly hard. She'd been stuck working late more often than she'd left on time, and things at home had been tense. At least tonight she could look forward to Mulder's help with Meghan. It was the best thing about their arrangement. *************** She almost tripped over his shoes coming through the door, but held her tongue in deference to Meghan, who was just waking up. Two years of sharing the same space hadn't changed many of Mulder's habits. Scully made her way to the living room where she deposited her daughter and numerous bags on the couch in one big lump. God, her arms ached. Meghan was getting too big to carry. Meghan started to whimper and Scully shushed her. It was tempting to try and lull her back to sleep, but then she'd be up and ready to go at midnight which would be even more work. She made a place for herself beside Meghan and rubbed her back until the little girl was more awake. Mulder hadn't made an appearance yet, but that wasn't unusual. The house was large and well insulated; he was probably in his room watching television. She lifted a still sleepy Meghan up and went into the kitchen to get some supper ready. She discovered Mulder at the table deep in thought, papers strewn in front of him, a pen in his mouth. "Hey Mulder." "Daddy." Meghan wiggled her way out of Scully's arms and ran to him, all her grumpiness forgotten. He returned her hug and pulled her up on his lap. "How's my astronaut?" Meghan giggled. "No, no, Daddy. A ballerina." "Ballerina it is then. Hey Scully." Scully took in the papers littering the table. "Work?" He sidestepped the question, his focus on the papers in front of him. "Did you eat, Mulder?" "No, I haven't. Leave the papers alone, Megs." He stilled her hands. "Mulder? Is something wrong?" Scully couldn't be sure, but from what she could see the papers didn't appear to be work files. "Shit." His tone was harsh as Meghan pushed some of the papers to the floor. Meghan's face scrunched up and she began to cry. Loudly. "That's a bad word, Daddy," she managed to get out between sobs. Scully looked from Mulder to their daughter. Something in his tone of voice pricked her, and it wasn't like him to swear in front Meghan. "I know, I'm sorry, honey. Shh, stop crying Megs. I didn't mean it." Scully was bending to pick the papers up when Mulder's voice stopped her midway. "Leave them." They both reached for the papers at the same time and though Mulder managed to grab them first he wasn't quick enough to prevent her from reading part of the document. The word 'custody' stood out clearly. She met his eyes, mouth open in shock, and the look in them confirmed she had interpreted what she read correctly. This was about Meghan. And her. Oh God. "Mulder?" "Later. Please." He nodded to where Meghan was standing. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. ***************** Scully managed to throw a meal together, but didn't have much of an appetite by the time it was served. No one ate very much, including Meghan who was cranky, picking up on her parents' tense mood. It degenerated from there. Meghan's bedtime routine, one of the things they had both taken great pains to keep as unaffected as possible, was awful. She kicked and screamed through her bath and Scully had never been as close to spanking her, something they had vowed never to do, as she was when Meghan refused to stay in bed. It took well over an hour of cajoling, back rubbing, drinks of water, and checks under the bed before either of them could leave the room. By the time the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher she felt like she'd lived the day twice. She could still hear Meghan protesting, but at least she was staying in bed. She wrung the dishrag out and hung it beside the towels, then turned the kitchen light off and went in search of Mulder, her stomach in knots. For the first time in almost three years she hadn't a clue what to expect from him. She found him sitting in the den, the computer casting an eerie blue light over the otherwise dark room. "It's so dark in here." "Leave it off, Scully." She pulled her hand back from the light switch. "You're scaring me." "I don't mean to." She sat down opposite him. "What's going on?" "Is Meghan okay?" "She's fine, still mad, but more tired than anything. She'll fall asleep soon." She paused, drawing strength from somewhere within. "Mulder, what is it?" "I can't do it anymore." The air seemed to thicken and it was difficult to breathe. He couldn't be saying what she thought he was. "Can't do -- what?" The last word came out as a whisper. "Scully, I love Meghan and I won't abandon her, but this --," he gestured around him, "it isn't me. Us. I've tried for more than two years to be something -- God, I'm not even sure what it is I'm supposed to be or do. But I can't keep pretending this is all I've ever wanted." "Pretending?" She could feel anger creeping in and she welcomed it. Anger gave her a feeling of control. "This is not coming out right. Just listen to me, okay?" She nodded, grateful now that the lights remained off. "When you found out you were pregnant -- wait. It started with sex." "It usually does." "Scully, please. When we had sex that first time, it wasn't exactly because we were in a relationship. The case was a bad one, we got drunk and we had sex. The next day we both agreed it shouldn't have happened and wouldn't again. It was a mistake. It isn't a matter of love, either then or now. My life --," he stood up to pace, "I have things in my life that I need to do. When you found out you were pregnant -- God, I never told you this." "Told me what?" She was proud that she managed to ask the question with a level voice. Her insides were shaking, but on the outside she was the ever-cool Dr. Scully. "You need to know, to understand... God, I'm sorry. It never occurred to me that you would want to keep it. I wouldn't trade Meghan for the world, Scully, you have to know that, but at the time all I could see was my life's quest in ruins. The first year you had her I was so torn up. I loved her like I'd never loved anyone before, but at the same time she was responsible for your transfer to Quantico. I felt -- abandoned. Angry. God, I was so mad at you." "I know." And she did. That first year she had converted her spare room to a nursery and learned the real meaning of sleep deprivation. Mulder had been like a ghost during that time. He hovered in the shadows, sometimes spending the weekend, often disappearing for days at a time, but always with poorly disguised resentment. Sometime around Meghan's first birthday he'd bought this house and moved them all in. There had been no discussion regarding the purchase. In a very Mulder-like move he just showed up one day with an extra set of keys and a desire to provide his daughter with a yard to run in and room to grow. She had been too tired to argue and besides, Mulder was offering to share the space, help her raise Meghan. She wasn't about to say no to an extra pair of hands. Being a single mom was the hardest thing she'd ever done. So they had embarked on an arrangement that confused her mother, completely pissed off her brother, but was satisfactory to both of them. At least it was until sex reared its head again. They didn't talk about it, and it certainly wasn't something either of them planned. It just happened one night when Margaret had Meghan for a sleep over. One night became a weekend, which became a week and before either of them knew it had happened, they were having regular sex as if they were living together - - which they were in a sense, physically anyway. Sharing the same space constituted living together in most people's books. Emotions though, those were another story altogether. She loved Mulder, but couldn't be sure he returned the sentiment. Hell, she wasn't sure he was capable of having more than his sister as the focus of his life. If she was brutally honest, Samantha and Meghan took all the space there was. She was just along for the ride. "Scully? You've zoned out on me." "Sorry, just thinking." He sat back down. "Did you hear any of what I just said?" "You're angry with me." "I was. I guess I still am. I've been distracted. Last week I almost missed a call with a lead because it was my turn to do the daycare pick up. That's when I called my lawyer." "I see." "No, you don't see. Tell me, Scully, how has the last month been for you?" Mulder had been away, on loan to the VSU for one week, involved in a case out of state. Meghan had been beside herself with the upset in her routine and Scully had found herself thrown back into the role of single mom. She'd hated it. At the same time, it drove home just how much their lives had changed. She had come to depend on Mulder. She knew he was struggling with the responsibilities of a family. God, the tension the last few months had been almost tangible; it just never occurred to her that he hated the life they had enough to walk away from it. They still talked shop, shared stories, but she knew it wasn't the same. He'd refused a new partner and Skinner had compromised by forcing someone on him only when he had to go out into the field. Oh God. For the first time it occurred to her that perhaps Skinner had sent a female agent to accompany him. They didn't have anything written in stone regarding their current situation. Maybe he wanted out to pursue something else? "Scully? You're gone again." "Stressful. I would say the last month has been stressful." "Have you been happy?" She wasn't sure she would use happy to describe what she felt and she didn't think getting into a pseudo- counseling session would help right now. "Just say whatever it is you need to say, Mulder." "Don't get me wrong. Meghan has brought me something I never thought I'd have, and for that I'm grateful, but I've been doing a lot of thinking about things." "Things?" "About the X Files, Meghan, you, life, _things_. I consulted Aaron because I wanted to make sure you and Meghan were taken care of. I think it's best if I leave for a while. Try and figure out what I want, what I need." The words, though expected considering what he'd been saying, still sent shockwaves through her. She opened her mouth to respond and realized she had nothing to say. Instead, she remained silent. She watched him stand and pick up a bag. It had been hidden in the shadows. Just like so many things this evening. "Mulder?" "Yeah?" "Is there someone else?" She didn't know how to read his hesitation. It was a question she wouldn't ask twice. "I'll call Megs around bedtime tomorrow." "You'll _call_ her?" And then, with a curt nod, he was gone. She stayed in the same spot for some time. This room, more so than all the others, had been his space. His old leather couch was here. His fish tank, empty now. His books lined the walls. She shut the door as she left the room. ************* Scully shivered, the chimney fire having died down. The June nights were still cool. She threw some more wood in and stoked it. The door to Mulder's den remained closed. She hadn't gone in when he'd moved his things to a new apartment and still couldn't stomach the idea of using the space for anything else. Even remaining in the house was uncomfortable, but she stayed for Meghan's sake. Mulder's absence had been hard on their daughter. For the first month she refused to sleep by herself, and Meghan was a restless sleeper. Though Scully found it comforting to have her close by, she walked around that month like a zombie. Mulder still helped with the daycare pick-ups, but that brought its own kind of hell. Each time he dropped Meghan off and left, she dealt with tears and tantrums. After one particularly bad night she gave in and called her mom for help. Margaret hadn't understood the arrangement to begin with, preferring to believe that her daughter and Fox were headed to the altar at some point. Scully had allowed her mom her fantasy rather than argue the details. So Mulder's abandonment of them, as Margaret saw it, was tantamount to divorce. In her world, men didn't walk away from their children. Or her daughter. She tried to be supportive, helping whenever she could with Meghan, but Scully felt the accusation every time Mulder came by when Maggie was present. God only knew what Bill was saying. She hadn't seen or spoken to her brother in over a year. She poured more wine for herself, welcoming the buzz that was beginning. This was becoming a bit of a habit and she wasn't so sure she shouldn't be worried. Granted, she didn't drink when Meghan was home, not much anyway. Mulder wasn't the only one whose life had ended up somewhere other than planned. She continued to expect Mulder to come back. To discover she meant something to him, that he missed his life here. She never anticipated his distancing himself to 'try and figure things out' would include fast cars and long- legged women. She was beginning to believe that Mulder's problem had less to do with the situation and more to do with a mid-life crisis. She was pretty sure Mulder himself was as in the dark about his own motivations as she was. Including whatever the hell Christmas had been about. **************** Dec. 20/05 Scully opened the envelope slowly and with precision despite the sinking feeling in her stomach. It only took a moment for her to recognize the documents. These were the papers she'd seen on the table that warm August evening. Custody arrangements. Nothing official yet, just a working document and would Ms. Scully please call the offices of Krakker, Zach and Ben-Jordan to arrange a time to discuss the details? "That's _Doctor_ Scully." She muttered as she scanned them. Mulder wanted to have Meghan to himself for Christmas Eve and all of Christmas Day. "Well, that's not how it works; you get one day and I get the other." It felt like they were talking about dividing property. She took a deep, calming breath. She would get through this. ********************* Aaron Ben-Jordan was a short, balding man, clearly at home in a male dominated profession. It wasn't that he was unfriendly; it was an underlying feeling of disapproval of her lifestyle she sensed as he laid out Mulder's position. Because she wished to keep things civil, Scully had insisted, despite her lawyer's objections, on attending the meeting on her own. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest move knowing how tenacious an opponent Mulder could be, but she had hoped to be able to appeal to some sense of civility. With the demands in front of her, she realized that wasn't to be. "So you see, Ms. Scully, Mr. Mulder is willing to be reasonable." Reasonable? This was considered reasonable? She bristled. Ben-Jordan had refused to use either of her professional titles, despite reminding him several times. He sat across from her, his hands folded neatly over the pristine green blotter, waiting for her response. Short man syndrome, she reminded herself. The room reeked of it. The desk was large, dark and heavy looking. Mahogany she guessed. "I was hoping to have at least one of those days." "Is that what you wish me to bring to my client?" God, could he be any more pretentious? "Mr. Ben-Jordan, is it possible to speak with Mulder about this?" "Mr. Mulder wishes to have his desires represented through this office." She had two choices. She could comply with his wishes or she could call her lawyer back and admit that she'd been wrong. Sylvia had warned her not to go in on her own. "Tell Mulder it's fine. For now. It's fine because I don't want Meghan subjected to a tug of war over who gets to have her when and for how long. I don't want her worrying about what either of us is or isn't doing during the holiday. And I certainly don't want to spend the next few weeks in a courtroom. So, Mr. Aaron Ben-Jordan, for the moment it's _fine_." He shoved a paper across the table. "If you could sign here, please." Scully stood tall. "You have my word. That's all you'll get right now. _My_ lawyer will be in touch." ************** "Mulder." "Fox, it's Aaron." "Yes?" "Well, it's done." "She agreed?" "In a sense. Your partner has her own lawyer." "She's not my partner anymore, Aaron. Who's her lawyer?" "She didn't give me a name, but I would imagine we'll be hearing from whomever she has retained." "Did she sign the papers?" Ben-Jordan shifted the papers in question, pulling out the one lacking the signature requested. "Fox, this firm has represented your family for close to thirty years. I've known you since you were a small boy, and I counted your dad as a friend. I would not honor his memory if I allowed his son to make bad decisions. She chose not to argue about the arrangements out of concern for the child." "I care about Meghan." "Fox, I'm not sure how far you want to take this, but speaking from experience, you will end up the loser if you continue with demands such as these. You will jeopardize future settlements, not to discount how much better it would look if you were as magnanimous as possible. Without duress." "It's what I want, okay? Did she sign it?" Aaron sighed. "No, she refused and I made the decision, on your behalf of course, not to push it. It didn't seem prudent. As your lawyer I have to advise you to rethink this." "She refused to sign it?" "She gave her word. I'm guessing that it's worth something." "Fine. For now." "Is there anything else I can do for you?" "I'll be in touch, Aaron. Thanks." ************** June 2006 Margaret Scully pulled weeds as if her life depended on it. She had amassed several piles of dirt and greenery around the yard as she'd made her way through the gardens. It was a bit of a love hate relationship. She had avoided using noxious pesticides for close to ten years, but she was sorely tempted this year. Cool spring temperatures with slightly higher precipitation had resulted in an abundance of the pesky things. She stood and stretched her back out. What she wouldn't give for a good back rub tonight. That whole mess with Fox, and it was a mess, sat like a lump in her stomach. She still didn't understand how he could have just walked out and left them like that. Dana had tried to explain, make excuses for him was more like it, but Maggie wasn't buying it. She'd known things were tense, but never thought Fox had it in him to walk away from his own child. Or from her daughter. She blamed him for Dana's unhappiness. Oh, Dana tried to hide it, but in a few rare unguarded moments, Maggie saw the loneliness and the hurt in her daughter's eyes. And she could hear the weariness in Dana's voice when they did manage to talk; she was so tired all the time. She remembered all too well times when her Bill was out to sea. She had the benefit of other mothers in pretty much the same situation. Base housing was good for some things and the women often shared coffee, meals and babysitting, generally making life less lonely for each other. That was one of Dana's biggest problems; she did not like to accept help from anyone, not even her own mother. It irked Maggie to no end. The times she had been allowed to help had been few and far between. She had hoped with the break of up of - of whatever it was Dana and Fox had together - that her daughter would let her in, or at least return to the church for solace. If anything it had seemed to push her further away. And in turn, Dana had pushed her family away. It wasn't right. And this whole daycare thing was another sore spot with her. How Dana could drop her child off and have complete strangers be responsible for raising Meghan was beyond her. She understood things had changed, but children still needed their parents. Both parents. She had offered to baby sit, but Dana had insisted having Meghan close to her work was necessary. When Fox had moved in, Bill Jr. had plenty to say and poor Matty and Tara were caught in the middle. Tara wanted Matty to know his cousin, for the two to have a relationship, and so an uneasy truce had been struck in which Bill kept his comments to himself -- most of the time anyway. She'd heard enough one sided conversations to know that things were still tense between her two children. When Bill found out Fox had moved out he hit the roof. Of course, Fox leaving had confirmed everything Bill had been saying about him. Usually Fox's defender, this time she couldn't help but agree with Bill. She listened as he ranted for much of the telephone call. Though neither Dana nor Bill had confirmed or denied it, she was fairly confident they hadn't spoken since that day. "Enough wool gathering, Margaret," she admonished herself, "these piles won't move themselves." She had a little over an hour to get herself together before George came by to pick her up. She grabbed a garden bag and headed towards her first pile of weeds. ************** "Meghan, stop running in the apartment, please." "But I'm a race car, Daddy. Like the black one." She made another circuit around the table before Mulder caught her. "No race cars in the house, Megs." "I'm the black one. The black one is an inside car." Her voice had gotten louder and she was starting to squirm and kick. "Not in the house." He tried to keep his voice calm. Their meal had been interrupted by one short-lived tantrum when she had been told no dessert unless she finished her meal and he had no desire to deal with another one. "Put me down." "Not until you tell me you're not going to run in the house." "It isn't a house. It's an apartment. Mommy has a house. How come you don't live in our house, Daddy?' She had stopped kicking, but now her lip started to quiver. "Meghan --" "NO! I hate you." She pushed herself out of his arms, dropped to the floor and ran to her bedroom. God. This was the third time they'd been through the same thing. Wearily he made his way to the room and knocked on the door. "I'm coming in, Meghan." She was curled up on the bed, her teddy tucked in her arms. "Go away." "Meghan, you can't do this every time I have to ask you to stop doing something." He sat down on the bed. "Teddy wants to go home." She turned the bear around to face him. "I thought Teddy liked his room here?" She shook her head, mouth held in a firm line. "It's late, Megs, how about a bath with lots of bubbles?" He was encouraged to see her relax her grip on Teddy. "I even have something that makes pink bubbles that smell nice. Would you like that?' She nodded and Teddy was forgotten as she jumped off the bed. "Can I race?" "No, no racing in the house." She paused and Mulder held his breath. He didn't have it in him to go another round with her. "Okay, I'll be Mommy's." "Mommy's?" "Her blue one doesn't go too fast." Ah. "Daddy doesn't speed, Meghan." "Mommy says so." Mulder knew enough not to get into another verbal sparring match with her. "Okay, peanut. Let's go find the bubble bath." ************ Mulder smoothed Meghan's hair back from her face. It was still slightly damp from her bath. She looked so much like Scully when she slept, even down to the way she tucked her hands under her pillow. He straightened the blanket over her, reluctant to leave. He'd never planned on being a father, but now he couldn't imagine his life without her. He turned the night light on and quietly left the room. The apartment was newer, a step up from his old one in Alexandria. It was sparsely furnished. He'd never been much for buying things though he made sure Meghan's room had everything she needed. He'd tried to recreate, as much as he could, her room at home as a way of helping her deal with the disruption in her life. Obviously, from her little display tonight, she was still having some problems. He grabbed a beer and turned the television on, flicking through the channels looking for something to watch, finally settling on an old western movie. When Scully first found out she was pregnant they had both been shocked. He had never thought about his life much beyond Samantha or the X Files, though he had entertained thoughts that somewhere down the road their relationship might become something more. The timing couldn't have been worse. Scully had never demanded anything of him, but he'd felt the obligation nevertheless. He took a long drink of his beer. For the first few months of their separation he had lived in his anger. Wallowed in it actually. He was ashamed of the way he'd handled Christmas. He hadn't meant to hurt Scully, but knew he had hurt all of them with his selfishness. His lawyer had tried to reason with him, but God he could be a stubborn bastard at times. Though Aaron hadn't used those words, Mulder had heard the accusation in his voice. That their daughter was shuttled between two homes and spent much of her time fatherless was his fault and the guilt ate at him. Despite what it seemed like, he missed his life with them. They were his family. He missed hearing Meghan's giggles and her incessant questioning first thing in the morning. He missed Scully. During their last year together as a family they'd fallen into somewhat of a more regular arrangement, but it hadn't been enough. The office was empty without her. Every time he walked in and she wasn't there it reminded him of what he had lost. When Skinner had come down that morning, insisting that he would be assigning him a new partner in the near future, it had opened the floodgates. Resentment, despair, hurt, anger. It had built to the point where he thought he would explode. The things he'd gained - a daughter, someone who loved him - never seemed to match the immense loss of his partner. His search had stalled without her to support him. It had felt like the worst kind of betrayal. And then there had been the day when it had become more than just an inconvenience. He'd missed a meeting. He found the note with instructions under his coffee cup the next day. Someone must've slipped in with it mid afternoon. Mid afternoon when, in the old days, the pre- baby, pre living in the same house sharing domestic duties days, one or both of them would be doing a Starbucks run. Fueling up to get through the next few hours. It wasn't Meghan's fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. It was just the way things were. He went to see Aaron that afternoon. The wild speculations regarding what had gone on in the basement office died down soon after Scully had Meghan. Although Spooky and the Mrs. were still popular targets of the water cooler crowd, a child somehow tipped the manners scale and people tended to be more conscious of what they said. It had been nice while it lasted. He figured someone in payroll must have it in for him, because as soon as he changed his address the rumors flew anew. And then the women came out of the woodwork. Who knew a man with a child was the ultimate turn on for a lot of women? He said no at first. No to quick after work drinks, no to a bite to eat at lunch, no to he and his daughter joining her and her son for a picnic. At some point he began to say yes, rationalizing that going for dinner or coffee one time wasn't hurting anyone. There wasn't much room in his life for more than that. Then he met Julia. They met at a coffee shop near his new apartment. He noticed her hair first. Actually, she was bent over a book so it was all he could see. It fell forward in soft, auburn waves and at first glance he thought she was Scully. The resemblance ended there. Where Scully was striking in a classic sense, Julia didn't posses the kind of looks that turned men's heads. It was her mind that appealed to him. He took the only seat left, opposite her, and was soon engaged in conversation. She was completing her law degree at Georgetown and had been studying. She didn't seem to mind the interruption and when she found out that he worked in law enforcement, they talked for over an hour. He hadn't had such stimulating conversation since before. Before Scully had transferred out. Before Meghan came along. Before. He ran into her a few more times, always in the same spot with a book open, and the conversation always seemed to pick up from where they left off. Eventually he asked her out. Their third date was a movie, followed by drinks back at his apartment. They hadn't done more than kiss a couple of times, but things might have progressed beyond that if she hadn't asked for chamomile tea. It was like being hit with cold water. Scully had lived on the stuff for the first four months of her pregnancy. They weren't living together then, but he was at her place so often he might as well have been. She had been really sick, and he'd alternated between holding her hair back while she threw up and trying to get her to eat. Chamomile tea seemed to settle her stomach. He couldn't do go through with this. He had a child and someone who had become like a wife to him. God, someone he'd been having regular sex with for the last year of their life together. Julia had been less than pleased when he suddenly pulled back and then seriously pissed off when she found out why. She had some not so pleasant things to say about men abandoning their families. Thank God they hadn't done more than some serious necking. That had been the end of his short-lived dating streak. He flicked the television off. Meghan was an early riser. He did the rounds, turning lights off, checking doors, stopping as he always did in her room. He fixed the covers that had been kicked off and rescued Teddy from the floor. "Mommy?" It was barely a whisper and her eyes didn't open. "Go back to sleep, baby." He tiptoed quietly out of the room. ************ Meghan had insisted on spending the morning at the park. She loved having the freedom to run and jump, which she did with exuberance. It was at times like these, her long hair trailing back in braids, that he was reminded of Samantha. Sam loved going to the park as much as she loved scouring the shoreline by the sea. Meghan, like Samantha, had pockets stuffed with things she found along the way. Rocks, sticks, pens and other oddities often found their way from her pockets to the washing machine. One day he would remember to check those pockets before he threw her overalls into the water. Eventually Meghan would remember she had found something only to be upset that it had been lost down the drain with the dirty water. Or, in the case of the bits of paper she collected, were shredded beyond repair. At those times a popsicle or ice cream usually eased the distress. He watched as she flipped herself around on the monkey bars and jumped down to race to the swings. "Come push me, Daddy." "I'm betting you want one of my special under-ducks." She squealed and leaned all the way back in the swing. "You're upside down, Daddy." "Get ready to fly." He was hard pressed to say which apparatus Meghan had the most fun on. No fear of heights and with a sense of balance that would make a gymnast jealous, she literally flew from bars to swings to the merry-go-round to the giant slide. And then back again to start all over. The only thing she didn't like very much was the teeter- totter, and only because she'd gotten bumped quite hard by an older child. "Higher, Daddy, higher." "To the moon?" "Sat -- Satr -- the one with the pretty rings." "You mean Saturn?" "That one." "Saturn it is. Seatbelt on?" "Yup." "Here we go." It always frightened him a little when she was going this high. She loved it, but it brought back all those horror stories parents loved to threaten kids with about going over the top bar and ending up in a wheelchair. "More." "That's high enough, Megs." "No. Higher, Daddy." "She's an active one, isn't she?" Mulder was startled. The speaker was a woman around the same age as he, with a young boy in tow. "Yes. She is. Very active." A very attractive woman he noted. "I can hardly keep up with this one." She indicated the blonde haired boy who had detached himself to run to the monkey bars. "He's three. How old is your little girl?" "Four this past April." "Daddeeeeee" Meghan's squeal of frustration redirected his focus. "Sorry, Megs." He grabbed the swing to stop her. "How about you hit the bars again for a bit?" "I want to swing higher." Her bottom lip came out and she crossed her arms, still balanced on the swing seat. It was hard not to give in when she pulled this. "That's a classic," the woman nodded to Meghan. "Yeah, her mother says she learned it from me." "DADDEEEEEEEE." Meghan began swinging her legs in an attempt to get the swing going again. "Meghan loves the monkey bars." Mulder gently let go of the swing, which responded to Meghan's kicks by twisting erratically. "Why don't you show this nice lady what you can do on them?" Meghan's face screwed up in distaste. "I want to go home." "I guess she's about done," Mulder said by way of apology. "Oh, I understand." She put her hand out, "Sandy Timmons." "Fox Mulder and Meghan." He took the hand she offered. "And that bundle of energy," she pointed to the child now hanging upside down on the bars, "is Aiden." "Let's go, Daddy." Meghan was off the swing and pulling at his t-shirt. "Aiden and I come here most Saturday mornings. Maybe I'll see you again?" "Maybe. Nice to meet you, Sandy." He scooped Meghan up into his arms. "Okay, peanut, say good-bye." She answered by burying her face in his shoulder and grunting. He smiled sheepishly but Sandy waved him off. "Aiden would be doing something similar if he wasn't so intent on trying to scare me half to death climbing those things. And speaking of, I'd better get over there." She made to go and then stopped. "Here." She dug around in her purse and pulled out a card. He took the proffered card. "Sure, thanks. Bye, Sandy." *************** Lunch was a disaster. Meghan was sulky. He tried every trick he knew of to no avail. She picked at her food and refused to speak beyond an occasional shrug or grunt. They ended up leaving the restaurant before either of their meals was finished. She didn't want to go to the museum, the zoo, or the wildlife preserve. A movie was too long, the monument was boring because she'd seen it a thousand times, and no, she didn't want to go down to the water. When she purposely dropped the ice cream he'd bought her in a bid to lift her sagging spirits, he lost his patience. "Enough. You've been sulking and moping since we left the park. Let's go." She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and crossed her arms, the ice cream a gooey, melting mess at her feet. "I said, let's go." She stuck her chin out. "No." Good Lord, she looked like a miniature Scully. Even her clear blue eyes seemed to blaze. "Meghan Christina Mulder." The chin seemed to come out further and she appeared to grow an inch as she straightened her back. Pedestrians walking by were covertly watching the scene, some throwing him sympathetic glances, others hiding smirks. He scooped her up and over one shoulder, holding on tight as she tried to wiggle her way down. His surprise move loosened her tongue and he decided he preferred her silence right now. Kicking and screaming, he loaded her into the car. "I want to go home." Tears filled her eyes. "We're going home, honey." "No. I want Mommy." She snuffled once and began sobbing. "Don't cry, honey." He pulled her from the car seat and into his arms. "Shh. We'll go wherever you want." "I want Mommy." "Okay. We'll go see Mommy." Her sobs became sniffles as he belted her into her car seat. She looked up at him and nodded, a hesitant smile on her tear stained face. ************* He still had a key, but felt funny using it. He hadn't called this house home for almost a year. When there was still no answer on the fourth ring of the doorbell, he used the key anyway. He readjusted a sleeping Meghan on his shoulder and quietly entered the house. He made his way up the stairs to Meghan's room, relieved to find it looked much the same as he remembered it. It was reassuring somehow. She didn't stir as he removed her shoes and tucked her into the bed. At least her tiredness explained her crankiness. He closed her blinds and made his way downstairs. It felt a little strange sitting down in the family room and turning the television on. The noise seemed too loud in the empty room so he hit the off button and got up to wander. He nosed around the fridge, checking the calendar to try and figure out where Scully might be, or when she might be back. Meghan's latest artwork decorated the bulletin board, but other than some small things, the place looked much the same. He wandered out to the front room and then over to the den. This, more than any other room in the house, had been his. He opened the door and was hit first by the staleness of the air. He turned the light on by the desk and then opened the blinds to let the late afternoon light in. It was when he sat down on his old leather couch, releasing a cloud of dust into the air, that he realized a thin film of it covered all of the surfaces in the room. Aside from the computer, some files, and a few books he had removed, everything had been left as it was just before he'd moved out. If he closed his eyes he could remember the last time he'd been in here. Exactly where Scully had sat, what she'd had on, how she smelled. The look of anguish in her eyes as he broke her heart. And what had he gained? The X Files were still as they were; nothing more learned despite his dedication to them. His life wasn't boring, but it wasn't exactly exciting either. He was a part time dad who sometimes found companionship for an evening, more often spending them alone with his television for company. What was the point of it all? So he could spend the rest of his life with nothing to fill it aside from the ghostly image of his sister? So he could watch his daughter grow up on the weekends during his scheduled time with her? A noise from outside the door broke his thought process. Giggling. Scully giggles. He quickly flicked the light off and drew the blinds, shutting the door behind him quietly. A second voice joined hers, and the sounds seemed to be coming from the kitchen. "Hey Scully," he started to call from outside the doorway in a bid to warn her. "I just let myself --" "Mulder. God, you scared me. What are you doing here?" "Dana?" Tall and blonde and standing far too close to his Scully. "Scott, meet Fox Mulder. Mulder, Scott Thompson." Mulder's eyes narrowed as he took in the man's hands; one on Scully's arm, the other setting a bottle of wine on the counter next to a grocery bag. "Scott. Nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out, forcing Scott to remove his from her arm. "Likewise." "What do you want, Mulder?" "_Our_ daughter, Meghan, is upstairs sleeping. She was very upset, insisting that she see her mother." Scully's chin jutted out and she stood up straighter. "I'm aware that we have a daughter, Mulder. It must've been a huge dilemma for you to have to cross the threshold and bring her in." "Dana, I think I'll go pick up that -- uh, cheese we forgot." Scott stepped back from the two of them and headed to the door. "It's okay, Scott, Mulder is just leaving. Aren't you?" "Scully. Meghan --" "Listen, Dana, I'll just go pick it up and give you a call before I leave the store in case you need something else." Mulder watched him beat a hasty retreat, heard the front door close. "Who is he?" "He's nobody special, Mulder, just an old friend. Or he was. God knows what he'll think after that little display." "What was I supposed to think?" "Nothing. Forget it. Why was Meghan upset?" "I'm not sure, she just sort of fell apart at the park and insisted she needed to see you." "I'll run up and check on her. Can you make sure you lock up on your way out?" Scully didn't wait for his answer and left him standing in the kitchen. He shut and locked the front door as he left. *************** Scully held a whimpering Meghan. "Shh, you're okay, sweetie." "Mommy?" "What is it, Meggie?" "Mommy?" "Yes, sweetie. It's Mommy." "I feel sick." She felt her forehead. "Hmm Meggie, you're a little warm. Where does it hurt?" Meghan shrugged. "Tummy hurts." "Hurts, how?" "It's got bubbles in it." "Bubbles?" "Rumbly." "Show me where it hurts, honey." She laid Meghan back down on the bed. "Here." She rubbed her stomach. "Mommy?" Scully watched the color drain from Meghan's face and quickly picked her up. "Are you going to -" throw up, she added silently as Meghan proceeded to do exactly that. ************* Mulder's phone rang several times before the machine picked up. Scully hung up halfway through the message. She dialed his cell, hoping he still had it on. "Hello." She pulled the phone back instinctively as he yelled. It was noisy. Bar noisy. "Mulder?" "Hello?" "Mulder, it's me." She cupped her hand around the receiver and yelled as loud as she dared. "Scully?" "Yes, Mulder. It's Scully." "Just a minute." The noise faded, indicating he'd moved to a quieter spot. "What is it, Scully?" "Was Meghan feeling sick earlier today?" "Sick? She never said anything, though she was pretty grumpy when we were at the park. Why?" "She didn't eat an undercooked hamburger or anything like that?" "No, as a matter of fact she didn't eat much at all. What's going on, Scully?" "It's probably just the flu then. I'm sorry to have bothered you." "The flu?" "She woke up feeling sick, and can't seem to keep anything down." "How long?" "How long what?" "Scully, it's almost midnight, how long has she been throwing up?" "Oh, since seven I think -" "You think? Didn't you keep track? She could be dehydrated." "I've been a little busy changing sheets. And I'm a doctor, Mulder." "You're a pathologist, Scully, not a pediatrician. Shouldn't you take her in?" God she hated him when he became patronizing. "It's probably the flu, Mulder. You don't go to the emergency room when you have the flu." "Look, I'm leaving right now; I just have to let Sandy know." "Sandy?" Whatever his response was, it was drowned out by increasing noise and music in the background followed by the drone of a dial tone. She didn't have the luxury of time to be pissed off at his attitude or to sit and wonder who Sandy was; she could hear Meghan beginning to cough again. She'd put a bucket by her bed but last time Meghan had missed completely. At least the floors weren't carpeted. *************** Between dropping Sandy off, and a police incident that caused him to take the long way around, it was close to two when Mulder finally made it to the house. He used his key to let himself in, noting how many of the lights were still on. Meggie must still be awake. He toed his shoes off, draped his jacket on the end of the banister and headed up the stairs. He could hear the muffled rumbling of the washing machine and remembered the irritation in Scully's voice when he accused her of being lax with their daughter's care. He felt even more ashamed when he came upon the two of them curled up together in the glider in Meghan's room, the duvet from the master bed covering them. Meghan's bed was bare down to the mattress, the scent of Pine Sol barely masking the smell. She wasn't kidding about washing sheets all night. He could see the lines of exhaustion in Scully's face. She hadn't stirred when he entered the room. Very quietly, he turned around and tiptoed back out. The least he could do was make up the bed up for her. He found clean sheets and blankets in the dryer. Carrying them back to the room he was hit by a bout of déjà vu. One of his last memories of this room had been sharing this task with Scully. Smoothing the wrinkles out of pale pink sheets and fluffing pillows encased in frilly little girl pillowcases. He was just about finished when he felt something shift in the room. He turned to find Scully awake and watching him carefully. Warily. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." He moved closer, keeping his voice low. "How is she?" "Okay. She was finally able to keep some Gravol down." "Can I move her to the bed for you?" "Sure. I don't think she'll wake up." Meghan roused as he lifted her, but settled back to sleep as soon as he tucked her into bed. She didn't seem to be running a temperature, though her face was flushed from being tucked up against Scully. "Should I put the duvet on?" "You'll have to use this one. Hers is toast." "Christened?" "Twice." "Yeah, it smells a little ripe in here." He took the duvet she offered and he watched as she stretched out stiff limbs and stood up. "Thanks. We would have been there all night I think, I was too tired to move." She walked to the door. "She'll be okay now, I'm pretty sure it's just the flu." "Yeah, I'm sorry about that comment." He followed her out the door. "I'm sorry I interrupted your date." "Actually, you did me a favor." Should he be generous? He decided he could be. "I'm sorry I frightened what's-his- name away." "Scott." "Scott. Where'd you meet him?" They had arrived in the kitchen, the wine and the bags sitting exactly where they had been several hours ago. "Base housing, an old family friend." She began pulling wilting vegetables out of the bags and putting them away. "Tea?" He found the kettle in the same place it was always kept. It felt strange to be back in the house doing ordinary things like boiling water for tea. "Actually Mulder, I'm exhausted. I'm just going to put this stuff away and go to bed. Meghan may be up again in a few hours." "Oh." He set the kettle down. Did he offer to stay and help or did he go? "But thank you anyway." For the second time that day the wrongness of the situation hit him. This had been his home, his life. Meghan was his daughter and Scully was - well, that was the problem wasn't it. "I guess I'll go then." Mulder waited a moment for any kind of a response, but it was doubtful she even heard. Her head was buried in the fridge. He made his way to the front door where he retrieved his jacket and shoes. The thing of it was, he didn't want to go. He wanted to stay and make sure Meghan was all right. He wanted to stay and help. He wanted to be part of his family in a real, tangible way. He didn't know if he'd ever get the opportunity to do so again. For the second time that day he closed and locked the door as he left. ************* Scully heard the door click shut and breathed a sigh of relief. Her focus needed to be on Meghan and what she needed, not on her former partner, former lover, former whatever the hell he was who was having some sort of guilt attack. She wondered if he was aware that he wore another woman's scent under the stale bar smell. She'd done a lot of thinking over the past few weeks. Thinking about what she wanted from life, where she saw herself in ten, twenty years. What she wanted for her daughter. The date with Scott hadn't been accepted in the hopes of starting something, but somewhere in the back of her mind was the idea that maybe it was time. Time to let go, to allow herself to meet new people, time to start living instead of wondering what went wrong all the time. That it was normal to want to share what she had, who she was, with someone of the opposite sex. God that it was okay to want sex, even if it meant sex with someone other than Mulder. She wasn't looking for a father for Meghan; Mulder _was_ her father, but it would be nice to have someone around full time to share the duties with, to laugh with, to share her life with, the good times and the bad. Scully knew Mulder well enough to know that he'd wanted to stay, but the question had to be, for how long? She loved him, but she wasn't playing house. This was real life for her, all of it, even cleaning vomit up off the floor. She was grateful for the house and other things Mulder provided, but despite it all, had been entertaining thoughts of moving. She didn't want to depend on anyone to meet her or Meghan's needs. Whatever Mulder provided was a bonus, and if she thought of it that way, she would never be caught short. She needed her independence, to feel in control of her own life. She put the last of the groceries away and headed up to check on Meghan one more time before she turned in. There would be time enough tomorrow to figure out the details. ************** "I'm not quite sure what you wish this office to do, Ms. Scully." She was the picture of composure but her hands, clenched tightly in front of her, belied her nervousness. He hated to do it, but he wasn't paid to represent her interests. Aaron Ben-Jordan sat back and waited for her response. "It's Doctor Scully, Mr. Ben-Jordan, and if we could dispense with the..." -- she waved her hand in the air -- "semantics." "What you call semantics, I would call protecting my client's wishes." "Mr. Ben-Jo-" "Aaron will do, Dr. Scully." "Mr. Ben-Jordan, I'm not sure I've made myself clear." "You've been quite clear. Tell me, have you looked over the documents Fox gave you?" "Documents?" "Trust accounts, banking arrangements and so forth, itemized and -" Aaron stopped abruptly, taking in her confused expression. He opened the file and rifled through the papers. "Ah ha." He removed a set of papers that were clipped together and buzzed his secretary. A plump, older woman slipped quietly into the room. "Yes, Mr. Ben-Jordan?" "I'll need a copy of these for Ms. Scully. Thank you, Rachel." He turned his attention back to Scully, who seemed to have paled considerably. "I take it you've never seen these?" "No." He had to lean forward to hear her answer, though he already knew it. "Has Fox mentioned anything to you regarding any of this? Meghan's trust fund, for instance?' "Nothing." "Were you aware - ah, thank you, Rachel." He put the originals back in the folder. "I think it would be wise if you took a moment to review these." He handed her the documents and sat back. "Why don't I give you a moment or two alone to do that? Can I get you a coffee?" "No, thank you." "Very well, I'll just give you some privacy." *************** "That wasn't your smartest move, Dana." Sylvia set the papers aside. "As a matter of fact, I think that makes twice now you've tried this." "I had to, Sylvia. I wanted to make the attempt to keep things civil, for Meghan's sake. I thought if I went in on my own it would be seen as a gesture of good will." "Dana, one thing I've learned in all the years I've done this is that the only lawyer with good will is your own. Many women believe they can appeal to some sense of righteousness or integrity and the other party will see the truth and respond amicably. Believe me, I've seen highly intelligent women, such as yourself, fall prey to this fallacy, and I've yet to see it work." "So in other words, I'm not going to get what I want without a fight?" "I don't know if I'd use the word fight, but no, you won't. I know Mr. Ben-Jordan's reputation. His firm is an old one, and has represented the Mulder family for years. He will be tenacious." "What about Meghan?" "Whenever there are children involved it's dicey. Sometimes a judge will want to speak to them privately -- " "A _Judge_?" "Dana, if you decide to go through with this you should be prepared for the possibility that it may go that far." "Is this going to end up being some sick version of Kramer vs. Kramer?" "Children do complicate matters. Both parties have certain rights and obligations and the court will spell them out." Scully sat back in the chair. "What are my options?" "Dana, it is my professional advice that you proceed with representation. You may not see the need for it right now, outside of the conflict you had over Christmas, but life has a funny way of moving forward. Any number of things could crop up; marriage, job transfers and so on. You don't want to be trying to sort out custody arrangements at the eleventh hour." "Can he force me to stay in the house?" "Where you live will be more of an issue than the house itself. That nonsense at Christmas may work in your favor if we play it right." Scully cringed as she thought about the situation in those terms; as if it was some sort of game with each of them working to out smart the other. "I still don't understand what he was trying to prove with that. Why did he have to insist on having her both days?" "Power? Control? I can't presume to know your ex- partner's mind, but I do know a little about people after working this job for fifteen years." "Let me think about how I want to do this. Can I have copies of those?" "Of course; these are yours. I have copies on file. You can let me know what you decide." "Thanks, Sylvia." "You're welcome. I'm sorry you're going through this, but I'm glad I can help." She stood and offered Scully her hand. Scully exited the office with a heavy heart. She really didn't want to get into a big fight with Mulder right now. Christmas still stung; all she had wanted to do was to enjoy the season. Eventually she had come to the decision that she didn't have the energy to go head to head with Mulder. She elected, against Sylvia's adamant advice, to let him have what he wanted. If Meghan thought Boxing Day an odd time to celebrate or that it was weird to be doing Christmas all over again, it was probably lost in the sugar rush and general excitement of the season. She lied to her mother that year, thus avoiding another fight; passing the time on her own working from home. Work had always been a familiar and comfortable way for her to deal with things. It was just as well that some things in her life remained predictable. ********** "Scully?" Mulder heard his voice float back to him as it echoed in the front hall. A quick check of the house confirmed what he already suspected; no one was home. It wasn't like there would be a note left for him. He hit the play button on the answering machine, hoping it might give up a clue to her whereabouts. There were no messages. He thought about calling her mother, but quickly dismissed that idea. The last time he'd seen Maggie things had been tense. The few words she'd spoken had been terse. He made his way to the den and settled down onto the familiar surface of his old leather couch. The action was both foreign and familiar at the same time. His couch had always been a comfortable place to think things through. Aaron had thrown so many scenarios at him he had been dizzy trying to keep them all straight. He wasn't sure what he was going to be able to do. Hell, he wasn't sure what he wanted, aside from one thing. He closed his eyes and leaned back, using the time to sort out his thoughts. ************* Scully swore softly under her breath as she took in the black BMW parked in front of the house. "Mommy?" "Don't mind me, Meggie. Come on, out of the car." "Mommy, I want - Mommy! Daddy's car! Daddy's here!" Scully grabbed her daughter's arm before she could make a dash to the front door. "Hold up, Meggie." "Let go, Mommy." One foot came down in an impatient thud. "Shh, it's late, Meggie, be a little quieter. I want you to listen for a minute." When she felt Meghan relax, she let go of her arm and squatted down. "Meghan, Mommy and Daddy might need to talk about a few things, so you can have a short visit, but then it's bedtime. It's late and Mommy's had a long day. Okay?" "But Mommy," her bottom lip jutted out, "I never see Daddy." "Meghan, don't start." It was after ten, and a fight with her daughter, followed by the confrontation she was sure to have with Mulder wasn't high on her list of things to do tonight. She wanted a hot bath and her comfortable bed. It'd been one hell of a day. She propelled her young daughter to the door. "Short visit, Meggie, and I mean it." "Can Daddy read me a bedtime story?" "I'm sure that can be arranged." "Okay." Scully took a deep breath and opened the front door. ********** Silence. She wasn't sure what she expected; it wasn't like Mulder would be having a party or anything. It was just _too_ quiet. She nearly tripped over one of his shoes, and managed to kick it with an impatient snort back to its mate. Mulder had always been oblivious to where he left things. True to her promise, Meghan was tiptoeing, calling softly for her daddy. "Where is he, Mommy?" "Mulder?" The door to the den opened and Meghan squealed in delight. "Daddy!" "Hey, peanut." He caught her as she flung herself at him. "Mommy says I get a story. Read me a story, Daddy?' "Hey, Scully." Scully nodded, meeting his eyes over Meghan, now nestled in his arms. "I told her she could have a short visit. We've had a busy day." "A short story as soon as you're ready for bed then, okay?" Scully couldn't help laughing as Meghan wiggled down and was up the stairs almost before Mulder had finished speaking. "And brush your teeth, little lady." There was an awkward silence as the two regarded one another. "Scully, I -" "Look Mulder, it really has been a long day and we have an early start tomorrow. I'm not sure why you're here -" "Take a couple of guesses." She was taken aback by the tightly controlled anger in his voice. What right did he have to be angry when it was his actions that started all this? She opened her mouth to respond in kind, when movement from the top of the stairs caught her attention. "Meghan." His returning nod was acquiescence to her unspoken 'later.' She watched him ascend the stairs and disappear around the corner, a laughing Meghan in tow. ************* Mulder found Scully sitting on the couch in the dark, a glass of wine in one hand, soft jazz just breaking the silence. Coltrane, he guessed. He noted the half empty bottle beside her. Scully didn't drink, not much anyway, and he debated the pros and cons of joining her, finally deciding one of them needed to be completely sober. He took several deep breaths in a bid to help him focus. A small tilt of her head was the only indication that she heard him enter the room. He took a seat opposite her and waited. "Your lawyer works fast." "I could say the same for yours, Scully. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about that." "It's okay, Mulder, he's protecting your interests and so forth. I'm just not used to our daughter being considered an interest." "I'm sorry it came across like that." "Are you? Because I'm not." He got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Never let it be said that Dana Scully didn't go down without a fight. He just hoped he wasn't too late to save some of what they had. Scully, I -" "Look, Mulder, tonight I had to endure a lecture from my mom because I had to get her to pick Meghan up for me, and in order to get her to do that I had to tell her something. I never was a good liar, as you know, and I'm sick of hiding all _this_." "I've never asked you to hide anything." "You know my family." "I do. And I'm sorry you felt you had to keep things from them. I'm a big boy, Scully, and I'm used to answering for myself." "I never said you weren't, but you're not the one who was on the receiving end of the fall out. You weren't - _aren't_ around most of the time, and families aren't always so forgiving." "I know and I'm sorry. It never occurred to me -" "Never occurred to you is right." She laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound; it was bitter and lonely. "Tell me, Mulder, was it my visit to Aaron or my appointment with Sylvia Marsh that brought you here? Because as far back as I can recall, you don't just show up to do daddy duty at bedtime spontaneously." It was a low blow, but perhaps one he deserved. "Scully, I want to change that." "Change? Change what? I have a life here, Mulder. It might not have turned out the way I wanted it to, but it's my life. You're just pissed that I got my own lawyer." "I don't give a fu-" he stopped himself before he could utter the expletive. "I don't care about the lawyer. Or the house. If you want to move, we'll move." "There is no _we_ here." "What if I want there to be?" Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the glass harder and for a moment he thought she was going to hurl it at him. "This isn't about you anymore, Mulder." He had to strain to hear her words, and as they sunk in he felt cold dread. "How is it not about all of us? This is our home." "This is a house, Mulder. Home is the people we love and care for and share our lives with. Meghan and I have a home together. I want - I _need_ to have a clean start." "And you don't need me." "I needed you a long time ago, Mulder." "You were always so capable, so committed to all of it. To Meghan. God, you walked away from me -" "The _X-Files_, Mulder. I walked away from the Files, not you. You just never seemed to be able to separate the two." "Those files _are_ me. When you left you had everything done and figured out before I had a chance to even get used to the idea of being a father." "Abortion, Mulder?" "Scully, you have to realize, all I heard was -" "Commitment? Baby? What was it you heard? Goodbye to your search for the truth?" He stood up, fists balled. Frustrated, he was tempted to throw something. Instead, he paced, his footfalls making satisfying thuds on the hardwood. The problem was she was right. "Look, that comment was uncalled for. I'm sorry, Mulder. I know how much your search means to you. And we're not married, I don't own you." "Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word." "Traditional or not --" "But what if I want to change it? What about what I want?" "The last ten years were about what you wanted, what you needed. I followed you and it was my choice to do so. I'm not blaming you, Mulder. But an eleventh hour revelation isn't enough to change my mind. You seem to forget that what happened affected my life too." "I know that, it's just that you seem to have less of a problem with the whole parenting thing." "You think it was easy for me? I never planned on having children. Not that I didn't think about it, but who deliberately brings a child into the middle of this -- this thing we do? God, my whole life was you and your search. There wasn't time or room for anything or anyone else in there. I gave up a job I loved; I still miss it." "I don't think I ever let you know often enough how much it meant to have you beside me." "Sometimes you forget it was my search too, Mulder. When they took me, when they killed Melissa...but then Meghan came along. Nothing else seemed as important anymore. Here was this little person who depended on me for everything." Mulder recalled those early days. He'd alternated between fascination with Meghan and horror when he considered not only the impact on his life, but the future she faced. "What do I need to do to fix it?" "You can't." He had to strain to hear her words and he found himself kneeling down in front of her, desperately searching for the words he needed to hear. "Look at me, Scully." She obliged him and he was almost sorry he'd asked. He could see the steely resolve reflected in her eyes despite the dim light in the room. He reached out to touch her face, to try and connect, but she pulled back. For a moment he read something else in those eyes; sadness, pain, maybe some fear. But it was fleeting, and he was left wondering if it had been there at all. "Will you at least stay in the house? I promise we'll operate on your terms; you don't need to do anything legal. I'll make sure you and Meghan have what you need." "We're fine." She was always _fine_. "Just think about it, okay?" "I can't promise anything more than that." Mulder nodded mutely. It would have to be enough. For now.