TITLE: The Way
Things Are
AUTHOR: Sukie Tawdry
EMAIL: [email protected]
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: Season 1
CATEGORY: Guess you could call it AU. Diverges
from canon some time during season 1.
KEYWORDS: Story, MSR
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me. Sniff
SUMMARY: One night and their whole lives were changed
forever.
FEEDBACK: Good or not so good--go ahead. I can
take it. I'm a big girl.
ARCHIVE: Again, go ahead.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks go to Sybils for wonderful beta and support.
And a big thank you to Foxymulderluver for giving
this story a home on her website:
http://www.geocities.com/foxymulderluver
Part 20 - Mount St. Scully
Catalog shopping must have been invented with enormously pregnant
women in mind. Catalogs balanced on her belly, Scully flipped
through the shiny pages, taking full advantage of LL Bean,
Sharper Image, and Pottery Barn's toll-free phone numbers. She
missed the noisy cheerfulness of Christmas shopping at the mall,
but she wasn't up to the challenge. Walking was becoming more and
more difficult.
With her due date early in the month, Scully had been in a rush to
get all her shopping done. She had planned it all so well. Order
early so the packages would arrive in plenty of time. The UPS man
became a regular visitor, and after his first few deliveries, he
began to stop and chat for a few minutes. Scully was careful to
have all the shopping done in time for her due date on December 10.
The Christmas bustle relieved some of the boredom Scully felt during
her maternity leave. She busied herself with wrapping the gifts
as they arrived, and writing out her Christmas cards. Watching
Mulder experience Christmas was a definite source of amusement.
Mulder threw himself into Christmas. Scully remembered her first
Christmas on the X-Files, just a year ago. Mulder barely seemed to
register the holiday; she was pretty sure he'd gone to the office
on Christmas Day. This year, seeing him watch Charlie Brown and the
Grinch with joyful wonder, she thought this might have been the first
Christmas he truly celebrated since his sister disappeared.
After their conversation on Thanksgiving evening, it was as if a
huge weight had been lifted from her partner. His spirit had
been restored, and he smiled again. The weeks that followed had
been rich with closeness and warmth.
Mulder had decorated the apartment while Scully issued instructions
from the sofa. He was all thumbs, but she wondered how much was
clowning and how much truly was clumsiness. One thing was certain:
Scully would never forget the sight of him wrestling lights onto
the Christmas tree, tangling himself in the process. She'd laughed
so hard, it was a wonder she hadn't gone into labor.
But she hadn't. Her due date came and went, like a train that
hurtled past as she stood waiting on the platform. Scully
pictured herself waddling down the train tracks, shaking her
fist in the air, as if sheer desperation could speed this
baby along.
Her bag was packed and ready. She and Mulder were well-rehearsed
in their breathing exercises. She could 'hee hee hee' with the
best of them, dammit. What was this child waiting for anyway,
an engraved invitation?
"Everything's fine, Dana," Paula had said as she
examined Scully.
"First babies come when they're good and ready."
This child was not good and ready. Sleeping was impossible as
the baby pressed on her bladder. Scully was in the bathroom
so often, she toyed with the idea of bedding down on the toilet.
False labor got her hopes up too many times. One particularly
embarrassing night, she'd been convinced it was the real thing.
She and Mulder had arrived at the hospital only to be sent home
several hours later. She was sure the labor nurses found Dr.
Scully's little escapade very amusing.
She'd probably miss the real thing when it came because she'd
assume she was only having Braxton-Hicks contractions. One
thing was certain: she was going to be absolutely sure her
labor was real before she ventured back to the hospital.
Three days past her due date and Scully was a little irritable.
Five days past and she snapped at the UPS man when he delivered
her Pottery Barn order. Seven days past her date, the packages
were left on the doorstep, the poor man afraid to knock on the
door.
Eight days past Scully's due date had Mulder tiptoeing around
the apartment, trying not to set off Mount St. Scully. He
seemed terrified at the prospect of a long Saturday with no
chance of escape to the office.
"Scully, why don't we go for a walk? We could look at some of
the decorations in the neighborhood," he suggested, probably
out of desperation. He probably thought she would behave
better in public.
"Have I mentioned the baby feels as if it's between my legs
when I walk?"
"Why yes, I think you may have mentioned it a few times."
"And did I mention that my back hurts and I've been having
mild contractions since I woke up?"
"Real contractions?" he asked, hopefully.
"Would I be hanging around here if they were real?" Mulder
flinched at the shrill quality of her voice, but she was too
annoyed to care. "No. They aren't consistent, dammit."
"I know you're uncomfortable," he began. Uncomfortable.
She'd like to give him an idea of what uncomfortable really
was. "But Paula said to keep moving, didn't she?"
"I knew it was a mistake to bring you to my appointments."
"Come on," he said, getting her coat. "It'll do you good."
She grumbled but allowed him to help her into her jacket.
She hated to admit it, but he was right; she couldn't stay
in the apartment a moment longer. Mulder seemed much too
pleased with himself. She'd have to wipe that smug look off
his face as soon as possible.
It was a few days before Christmas, and the weather was as
mild as October. The sun was bright, and Scully felt her
spirits lift. Mulder patiently reduced his long stride
to accommodate her slow waddle as they made their way down
the street.
Passers-by beamed at her, smiling indulgently at her girth.
Pregnant women belonged, it seemed, to everyone. Mulder's
hand was at her back, and he smiled back at the people
they passed. Perhaps for the first time, she felt his pride
in being part of this pregnancy.
Of course, she knew he'd wholeheartedly accepted the baby.
She knew he loved her. But as they walked down
Avenue
was responsible for her condition.
As they turned onto a side street, Scully paused as a
contraction sliced through her. This one was stronger
than any she'd felt before, but not debilitating. She
placed a hand over her belly, feeling the rigidity of
the large muscle.
"You all right?" Mulder asked, rubbing her
back.
"Yeah," she answered, trying to massage the tightness
out of her belly. "Probably more Braxton-Hicks."
She glanced at her watch, noting the time as
"I don't want to get too excited," she said. But she
had another contraction as they reached the next corner,
this one much stronger.
"Mulder, what time is it?"
"
back?"
"Maybe we should."
The contractions continued as they slowly walked back
to the apartment. Mulder kept an eye on the time.
"Ten minutes, Scully. Exactly ten minutes between
them--perfect symmetry. The body is an amazing instrument,
isn't it? But then again, look who I'm talking to.
A doctor knows better than anyone..."
"Mulder."
"What, Scully. Are you all right?"
"Owwww...there's another one." The pain
stopped her
in her tracks. She couldn't straighten up, the cramping
bending her double and taking her breath away. Finally,
she was able to speak. "Shit, that one was strong."
"That was more like nine minutes. This is
fascinating. Remember to breath through them, okay.
We've probably got a lot more time before the baby
comes. Scully, your nails are digging into
my hand and it hurts."
They made it back to the apartment, the length of
time between contractions shortening, then remaining
consistent at eight minutes. Mulder ran to the bedroom,
returning with Scully's overnight bag and a bag of items
for the labor room while Scully called Paula Sherwood.
"They're every eight minutes, Paula. Much stronger
than any of the Braxton-Hicks contractions. Okay.
All right. We'll call you when we're going to
leave."
"Going to leave?" Mulder asked. "We're not leaving
now?"
"Paula thinks this is the real thing, but says we have
probably an hour or two before the contractions get
to five minutes."
Scully couldn't sit still. She straightened up the
apartment, shuffled through her Christmas cards, and
called her mother. Every eight minutes, the doors of
hell opened up just a little bit as she tried to
breathe through the stronger and stronger contractions.
Mulder hovered and drove her crazy.
"Maybe you'd be more comfortable if you..."
"There *is* no more comfortable, Mulder. Comfortable
walked out the door three months ago. And there isn't
going to be comfortable for a whole lot longer."
The tiny rational part of her brain recognized her
bitchiness and wondered who was having a worse time
of this labor--Mulder or her. The irrational part
of her brain smashed that thought flat.
She was wiping the counter in the kitchen when she
felt something warm and wet running down her legs.
For one brief moment, she thought perhaps as one
final indignity, she'd become incontinent.
"Mulder!" she shouted as she shuffled her way across
the room. The trickling sensation against her inner
thighs suddenly became a gushing feeling. "Mulder!"
"What?" he called out.
"My water broke."
Mulder was in the kitchen in a flash, taking in the
sight of Scully, her pants soaked, mid-contraction and
standing in a puddle. "Wow."
"Don't just stand there," she said. "Help me get
changed." We need to get to the hospital now."
With the rupturing of her membranes, labor intensified.
The contractions were coming every five minutes now, and
getting stronger each time. Mulder's excitement seemed
to shift into panic as he helped her peel off the wet
maternity slacks and underwear.
"When the water breaks, it means the baby's coming soon,
right? I read up on it," he asked, running nervous hands
through his hair. "You could get an infection once the
water breaks, right?"
"Mulder...ooowww." A contraction hit,
leaving her unable
to speak. She tried to huff through it and distract herself
from the pain as the contraction peaked and then subsided.
"Infection is only a problem if they break prematurely and
the baby isn't ready to be born soon....that isn't going to
happen since I'm in active labor."
Active labor hurt like hell. Scully called Paula, who
said she'd meet them at the hospital. Mulder's cheerful
chattiness segued to complete panic as he ushered her out
of the apartment and down to the car.
"Shit," she muttered, a contraction slicing through her as
she settled herself in the car seat. Her hands moved over
the hard mass of her belly, lightly rubbing as she breathed
through the pain. Mulder murmured encouragement, but she
could hear the worry in his voice.
When it was over, she closed her eyes in weariness. "That
was a strong one. Mulder, this is all normal. It's going
to be okay."
He glanced at her, as if searching for all the reassurance he
could get. His expression was only a little less doubtful
as he drove to the hospital.
Scully was checked in to the hospital as soon as they
arrived. They'd been ensconced in the birthing center for
a few minutes when Paula Sherwood arrived.
"Let's get an idea of where you are," Dr. Sherwood suggested.
"This is going to be a little uncomfortable."
Mulder sat facing Scully, taking her hands in his
while Paula
positioned herself at the foot of the bed. His eyes grew wide
as Scully squeezed his fingers. Uncomfortable was something
of an understatement. Pushing the sheet out of the way, Paula
helped Scully bend her knees and spread her legs for the exam.
"Well, Dana, you're at seven centimeters," she said, glancing
up. "About damn time, I'd say."
"You're a riot," Scully grunted in pain. "Sarcasm is a very
unattractive trait in an obstetrician."
"Sorry. I'll try to curb that tendency. I suppose sarcasm is
completely acceptable in pathology, though." Paula drew the
sheet back over Scully.
"No one's complained so far."
As her contractions continued to strengthen and become more
frequent, the hours seemed to blend together in a wash of
pain. Scully leaned heavily on Mulder as she walked up and
down the hall. Eventually, walking was no longer possible
as birth approached.
Scully managed to breath through the pain until the
contractions finally seemed to flow into each other, almost
without respite. It had become a blurry haze of pain and
mixed in was the almost overwhelming desire to push.
"Dana," Paula said, making another examination. "You're
completely effaced. You can start pushing with the next
contraction."
There were certain images that Scully knew she would never
forget: Mulder's huge feet encased in blue paper surgical
booties; how handsome he looked in scrubs; the sight of her
small foot in Mulder's large hand as she pushed against it;
the searing, screaming feeling as she bore down.
The voices all seemed to blend together as encouragement
was shouted out.
"You're doing great, Scully!"
"Another big push, Dana! Come on. Pushpushpushpush.
You
can do it!"
"The baby's crowning! Reach down, Dana. You can feel the
head."
Mulder's eyes were locked onto her face. He seemed almost
to be willing himself into her mind, telling her how proud
he was, how much he loved her. That was another thing she
would never forget.
"Baby's almost out," Paula said. Scully watched in the
overhead mirror as the baby's head and shoulders were
delivered. Paula deftly suctioning the baby's nose and
mouth. With one big slither, the baby slid out into
Paula's hands.
"It's a girl," Paula called out, lifting the baby onto
Scully's abdomen. As she reached out to touch the squalling
child, Scully felt a pang of love so strong it almost hurt.
Tears were running down Mulder's cheeks, and he brushed them
away with the back of his hand. He leaned over until his
forehead was touching hers, and she clutched the back of
his neck with one hand. Her other hand never left the
slippery body of her child.
"You did it," he whispered. "Our baby. Our baby. I don't
think I'll ever get tired of saying that."
"Dana, she's beautiful. Pink and sassy as can be." Paula
smiled at Scully, as the baby wailed away on her belly. The
nurse wiped the child's skin, cleaning blood and vernix
away.
"She's certainly making her opinion known," Mulder laughed.
"Mulder," Paula asked. "Would you like to cut the umbilical
cord?"
As he moved to the end of the table, Scully watched him
nervously take the surgical scissors in his fingers. Paula
guided his movements, and with a look of complete amazement,
Mulder severed the cord.
He stumbled back to his place by her head as the nurses took
the baby to clean her up. His hands were shaking as he brushed
the hair from Scully's face. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Oh, yeah," she said, laughing. Tears blurred her eyes,
obscuring his dear face. The placenta was delivered, and
Paula assessed Scully's condition.
"Everything's looking good, Dana. The placenta is
normal, and
your uterus has begun contracting already. Nursing her now
will help that along," Paula said, bringing the now tightly
wrapped baby back to her parents. She laid the child in her
mother's arms. Scully dropped the side of her hospital gown
and positioned the baby at her breast, closing her eyes as
the baby latched onto her nipple. Yet another image to remember
forever: the feeling of that first little tug.
"What are you going to name her?" Paula asked.
"Eileen," Scully answered. "Eileen Anneka
after our grandmothers."
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