Rating : PG

Classification : MSR

Spoilers : None

Disclaimer : Mulder and Scully belong to Chris, who doesn't seem to understand
how valuable they are. I'll put them back on his toy shelf when I'm done.

Notes : This story came to me, flooded my brain, and spilled onto the pages as
I was trying to finish another story. Sometimes characters write themselves.

Feedback : Feed me, for I am a starving artist.

* * * * * * * * * *
 

              I am home. After months of living in cold, dark seclusion, I am
warmed by the safety that is Scully's apartment. After months of being taken
care of by nameless, faceless strangers, I am tended to by Scully. Before I
left, I was living here. So it's only natural that this is where I return. It
looks the same, yet it feels different. The furniture is how I remember it, but
there are empty spaces here and there. The bassinet, baby swing, and changing
table are gone now, leaving holes in the living room. It is the way it used to
be, but not the way it should be. I was only here for three days of William's
life. I had no idea how much I had missed him.

 "Mulder?" Scully's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "You okay?"

 I nod, and cross the threshold into the living room. I have barely spoken to
her since my return. The things she must be feeling, wondering. But I just feel
so tired, so empty. I thought my homecoming would be joyful for us, but it
really feels like defeat. I just want to sleep.

 She drops my one remaining duffel bag on the couch and sizes me up. "I, uh,
have some of your clothes in the bedroom, if you want to get cleaned up."

 I nod again, wondering how my life became so scattered. Some of my furniture
is in storage, most of my clothes and essentials were left behind during
midnight runs from one safe house to the next, and the rest, well, the rest is
here.

 Scully has disappeared down the hall, presumably to get me something to wear.
I walk to the bathroom to start my shower. The scent that is undoubtedly Scully
emanates from this room, and it almost makes me smile.

 "Mulder?"

 She is behind me once again. Probably thinking I've lost my mind. In reality
I'm trying to get it back. I turn to her and she offers me my old grey T shirt
and jeans. I take them, and we stand there, at an impasse.

 "Well, if you need anything, I'll be out here." She pulls the door shut upon
her exit.

 I strip quickly, deciding to toss my clothes in the trash rather than in the
laundry basket. I make sure the water is hot before I get in. Scully is a bath
person, but I've always been a shower kind of guy. Being all closed in, the
heat and steam surrounding me, it feels like a cocoon. I stand under the water
finally feeling the cold and damp of the last several months slipping away. I
have no idea how long I stay that way. I realize it must have been awhile when
I hear Scully calling me.

 "Mulder? You okay in there?"

 "Yeah." My voice is quiet, weak.

 "You've been in there for almost an hour."

 "Oh. I just need to be warm, Scully."

 No response. I believe my answer must've satisfied her when the door opens and
there she is, completely naked. She looks apprehensive, vulnerable, as if I
might reject her. She steps into the shower and closes the door. It is tiny in
here, and we are inches apart. We stand there, hands at our sides for what
seems like an eternity. The next move will determine where we are, and where we
go from here. I think we are both terrified. She looks up at me, blue eyes wet
with tears, and I realize that everything I have endured in my life means
nothing now. She is everything. She steps forward and lays her head on my
chest. Our arms instinctively curl around one another.

 "Are you really here, Mulder?"

 I press my lips to her forehead. "Yeah, I am."

 She sighs, and her whole body relaxes. "I missed you."

 I smile at that. "Yeah, I guess I kinda missed you, too."

 I think I hear her laugh. "Warm now, Mulder?"

 "I think so, yeah."

 She pulls away from me, her hands grasping mine. "You must be tired."

 I shrug. "A little."

 "Ok. Why don't you finish up in here and I'll get the bed ready." She leaves,
and I am left to wonder what ‘getting the bed ready' means.

* * * * *

 Ten minutes and a half-hearted brush of my teeth later, I enter the bedroom.
It is dark, except for two candles on the dresser and night stand. The bed is
turned down, and just when I think I may get lucky after fourteen months of
celibacy, Scully walks in wearing her long sleeved silk pajamas. She approaches
me with a critical eye.

  "Your clothes. They don't fit."

 I look down to where she is tugging on the loose fabric. "Yeah. Guess I lost
some weight."

 "Guess I'll have to call my pizza man to fatten you up." She smiles, big and
wide, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I lean in and kiss her.
She is eager, hungry, assured. I have missed the way we kiss. But even this is
different. She is hard where she once was soft, taking when she used to give.
Her kiss is long, furious, desperate. I break away from her and see the quick
rise and fall of her chest. We are both out of breath. Her face is flushed, and
warm as my hand touches her cheek.

 "I'm here, Scully."

 "I know." Her voice is low, dark. I remember that, though the nights we spent
together were few. "Just don't leave me again, okay?"

 I nod, and pull her toward the bed. I curl myself around her, our bodies
fitting together like missing pieces, two halves of a whole. We sleep, me in my
T shirt and jeans, and Scully in her silk. Just the way it has always been.

* * * * *

 I awake to an empty bed. I do not know how long I have been asleep, but only
one of the candles is still burning. I stumble out of the cold bed and look for
Scully.

 The living room is cast in a soft glow. Scully is sitting on the couch looking
at something I can't make out. I am quiet, careful not to alarm her as I step
toward her. And then I see what she is holding. One of William's hats. When he
was born, I wanted to get him something but all I know about babies is that
they should have their heads covered so they don't catch cold. I bought him a
matching hat and pajama set with little UFO's all over it. The hat had little
green alien antennae on top, and Scully said it could be a choking hazard. So
when I left I took it with me. I just wanted something to remind me of him. I
never unpacked it for fear of leaving it behind somewhere. And so it remained,
until Scully opened my duffel and found it.

 "Scully?"

 She jumps when I speak, even though it is only a whisper. She turns to me, and
I see that she has been crying. "I, um, found this in . . . " she gestures to
my open bag.

 "I know." I move to the couch and place the bag on the floor. "It reminded me
of him, us, all that I'd left behind."

 "I'm sorry you didn't get to come home to him, Mulder." She is crying openly
now, and I don't know how to comfort her. I know why she gave up our son, but I
can't help but feel angry, cheated. I would never voice my anger to her,
however. She is suffering too much.

 "I understand, Scully. I mean, I don't know everything, but if you believed he
wasn't safe here, then you did the right thing." There is silence, and I wonder
if this is what she wants to hear. "But yeah, it hurts."

 She looks at me, pain, sorrow, and apologies flooding her face with tears. "I
want him back, Mulder."

 I reach for her and she crumbles, clutching my shirt and the baby's hat in her
fists. We sit there for a long time, weeping for our son. After awhile, her
hands loosen their grip and her body relaxes into mine. She is quiet. I wonder
how she has survived all I have put her through. I pull her back with me
against the arm of the couch and watch as her little body molds to mine. She is
still clutching William's hat. I rub her back in tiny circles and soon her eyes
grow heavy. "Do you think we could protect him, Mulder?"

 I know just what she is asking me, and I am honest in my answer. "Yes, I do.
We're his parents, Scully."

 She closes her eyes and soon sleep comes to me as well. I dream of us, the
three of us, a family once again.