TITLE: A Family Tradition
AUTHOR: salliejohns and Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected] and [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer.
SPOILER WARNING: Eighth season episodes through Empedocles.
RATING: PG
CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR
CLASSIFICATION: VRA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance
SUMMARY: Post ep for Empedocles.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to us.
A Family Tradition
By salliejohns and Shoshana
Maggie Scully straightened up and wiped the back of her hand across
her sweaty brow. "Dana, I can do this myself, you know. There's no
reason for you to be up here in this stuffy, old attic. Please go
downstairs and relax for a bit. Put your feet up. This is no place
for a pregnant woman."
"I'm fine, Mom. Really. I want to help you find the christening
gown, and it's kind of fun going through all this old stuff. I get
nostalgic seeing all these things from when I was a little girl."
"Oh!" Scully let out a small gasp. I remember when Missy and I
played with this old box of dress up clothes. Scully knelt
carefully, opening the top of a small, old-fashioned trunk, and began
unfolding some of the clothing. "Missy always wanted to be a
princess, or a fairy--something frilly. I was always trying to find
something like an old raincoat so I could be a fireman or in the
Navy. It used to drive her crazy."
Maggie chuckled softly. "I guess you weren't exactly the dainty
little baby sister she wanted."
"That didn t keep her from trying though. Did we ever play nicely
Mom?"
Maggie smiled, a wistful look in her eyes. "Of course you did.
It's just that it was more exciting when you two argued, so that's
what you remember the most. Melissa loved you very much, especially
when you stood up to your brothers. She was always so proud of the
way you refused to be bullied."
The two women were silent for a few minutes, each reliving favorite
memories of their daughter and sister.
Scully's gaze drifted over the cluttered attic, until she was
startled by something in one of the dark corners. Awkwardly, she
stood up and carefully made her way over to the treasure she'd spied.
It was a tiny wicker rocking chair, no bigger than a doll would sit
in, covered by a clear plastic bag to protect it from dust and spider
webs.
Maggie Scully watched her daughter curiously as she retrieved the
little chair. It was something she hadn't seen in a long time. The
sight of it evoked strong memories, and she was momentarily
overwhelmed.
"Where did this come from, Mom?" Scully seemed almost breathless
with excitement. "I don't remember seeing it before. Was it
Missy's?"
"Actually, it used to be mine, when I was a very little girl."
Maggie Scully's voice was soft and melancholy. "It belonged to my
mother, your grandmother, and she gave it to me when I was six years
old. It was my birthday, and I got a beautiful, handmade cloth doll
that had belonged to my grandmother and this little, white rocking
chair. 'Something from each generation,' my mother told me. It was
a tradition in our family."
Scully smiled at her mother's special memory. "Did you try to
continue the tradition with Missy?" she asked tentatively.
"To tell you the truth, Dana, we moved so many time when you kids
were young, that I lost track of that chair and the doll. I didn't
discover the chair until you girls were teenagers, and somehow the
doll was lost in transit, along with other family keepsakes. I
didn't think either of you would be interested in getting an old
chair for your birthday, so I decided to keep it until one of you had
a daughter of her own. I kept hoping the doll would turn up somehow,
and if it didn't I planned on buying an old-fashioned porcelain doll,
and starting a new tradition."
Tears collected in Maggie's eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.
Scully could feel them welling up in her eyes too. She walked over
to where Maggie was sitting on the floor, and crouching down, put her
arms around her mother's shoulders. "I'd love to have this chair,
Mom. In fact, it's exactly what I've been looking for."
Maggie stopped crying, and looked sharply at her pregnant daughter.
"Does that mean... I mean, is the baby a girl? Oh, Dana--"
"Nice try, mom, but I don't really want the chair for the baby. I
want to start a new tradition--a combination of yours and something
else. I just can't tell you about it just yet."
Maggie looked slightly confused. "Whatever are you talking about
honey? What kind of new tradition? What are you being so
mysterious about?"
"First things first." Scully smiled at her mother mischievously.
"May I have the chair?"
"Of course. May I have an explanation?"
Scully's eyes sparkled. "Come to my house for tea tomorrow
afternoon, and I'll show you."
********************************************************************
When the doorbell rang the next afternoon, Scully was placing warm
muffins into a napkin-lined basket. She folded the napkin over the
top of the pile, quickly checked the teakettle on the stove, and made
her way to the door.
"Hi, Mom, you're a bit early." Scully grinned at her mother,
knowing full well that she'd probably been waiting outside in the car
until she couldn't stand the curiosity any longer.
Maggie leaned in to kiss her daughter on the cheek, and stepped back
to survey the apartment. There was no trace of the little white
rocker. Mrs. Scully tried to avoid any disappointment in her
voice.
"I thought I might be able to help you get the tea ready. When I
reached this point in my pregnancies, I always felt like I could use
an extra hand," Maggie said.
"That's because you usually had one or more other children to take
care of, and usually no one around to help you. Believe me, mom, I'm
fine."
Maggie threw her a doubtful look.
"Really," Scully said emphatically, squeezing her mother's hand.
Maggie smiled and hugged her daughter briefly. "I know, you've
always been so independent."
"Come on, Mom, let's have some tea, and I'll try to answer at least
some of your questions." Scully hooked her arm through her mother's
and led her to the table, which was beautifully set with a creamy
white linen tablecloth, matching napkins, and delicate china with a
tiny floral pattern. "I hope the muffins are still warm."
Maggie sat down as the teakettle began to whistle merrily on the
stove. Scully carefully carried a tray with a sugar bowl, creamer,
and china teapot to the table and set it down. For the next half
hour, she and her mother sipped tea, nibbled poppyseed and banana nut
muffins, and chatted about the things Scully would need for the baby.
Maggie ran through a seemingly endless list of necessities. Scully
hadn't purchased anything for the baby yet, feeling vaguely like it
might bring bad luck. Logically she knew it was silly, but it was a
feeling that she couldn't seem to shake.
"You know Dana, I'd like to give you a baby shower, if thats all
right with you." Sensing a protest in the works from her daughter,
she continued, "It would make me happy to have something to do while
you're waiting, and you could get a head start with some of the
things you really need to have."
Her mother looked so hopeful, Scully had no choice but to give in.
"Okay, Mom, if it means so much to you... I don't think there are
many people to invite though. I have a few friends from med school
that I'm still in touch with, but none of them live in this area. It
will probably be a pretty small party."
"You let me worry about the guests," Maggie said with a satisfied
smile. "I suppose a surprise shower is out of the question."
"Out of the question," Scully repeated firmly.
"Well, now that that's decided... didn't you promise to show me why
you whisked that chair out of my house so mysteriously?"
Maggie made a not-so-subtle inspection of the apartment,
scrutinizing each tier of her daughter's nearest bookcase.
"It's not out here, Mom. It's in my bedroom, and I guess I've kept
you waiting long enough. I hope you're not disappointed when you see
what I wanted it for. Come on."
Scully took her mother's hand and led her across the living room to
the door of her bedroom. Grinning widely, she stepped back and
allowed her mother to enter the room ahead of her.
Maggie's eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, and she made a quick
visual scan of the room. Bed, bedside table, dresser... there, on
the dresser sat the white wicker rocking chair. In the chair was a
lovely, old-fashioned cloth doll, very much like the one Maggie
herself had received when she was small.
Scully heard her mother's slight gasp, and watched as she made her
way to where the little chair perched. She saw her mother reach out
a hand and carefully touch the doll's face. The gesture was almost
reverent and neither of the women spoke for a few seconds.
Finally, Maggie turned away from the doll, and Scully could see a
tiny tear in the corner of one eye. "Dana, this is so much like the
doll I told you about. Wherever did you find it?"
"It was a gift, Mom. From Mulder. It was his mother's doll, and
her mother's before that. He gave it to me the day I got home from
the hospital. It's something he wants me to have--a part of his
family and their history. She's handmade, of course, from New
England. Supposedly the style is quite distinct."
Maggie had turned back to the doll. "May I?"
Scully nodded and Maggie picked up the doll gently, holding it in
both hands. "It's not as fancy as my doll was, and the hair is
different."
Maggie touched the doll's dark curls, then the face, with its
stitched-on features. "This face is almost the same, but my doll's
eyes were sewn with blue thread. Apparently my grandmother had blue
eyes like you do."
Maggie caught her daughter's gaze and asked, "You say Fox gave you
this? It must have been hard for him to part with something so
precious. I doubt he has many things of his mother's to remember her
by."
"Well," Scully began, "It's not like he's giving it away with no
chance of seeing it again. It's *his* family's doll... in *my*
family's chair." She lowered her eyes and spoke so softly her
mother could hardly hear her. "I think it's the beginning of a new
family tradition."
Maggie's was surprised by her daughter's sudden frankness. "It
sounds like you're telling me something important, Dana. Are you? I
know how private you are, but are you saying that Fox is your baby's
father?"
She stared at her lovely daughter, her passive face belying her need
to know the child's true origin.
"It's complicated, Mom. There's a lot you don't know, that I
haven't been able to tell you. I wasn't supposed to be able to
conceive a child. There were tests, and some medical procedures that
showed promise, and ultimately failed. After Mulder was taken, and I
found out I was pregnant... I couldn't believe it. It seemed like a
miracle, an answer to a prayer I hadn't dared to whisper aloud. For
a long while, I felt too numb, too devastated, by Mulder's loss to
think straight. Now, after many months of forcing myself to deal
with all the possibilities, I feel strongly this is Mulder's baby.
Whether some of my doctors were mistaken about my infertility, or
this is a miracle by the grace of God... I guess we may never know.
Scully clasped her hands in front of her, as if in fervent prayer.
"I'm still scared, sometimes I'm scared to death, Mom. Mulder's back
and I know we can face this together, if that's what he
wants. This feels right to me." She moved closer to her mother,
dropping her hands to her sides. "I love him, Mom. I'm not afraid
to love him anymore."
Tears ran down Maggie's lined face. She opened her arms and
embraced her daughter tightly. She wanted to tell Dana how long
she'd known the partners were meant for each other. She'd seen the
pain each had endured whenever the other of them was inexplicably
lost, sometimes for months at a time. She remembered with painful
clarity how Fox had stayed with Dana in the hospital after she'd been
returned from her abduction. How he'd refused to give up hope that
she would come back to him. Yes, she'd known for quite a long time
how precious they were to one another, and now it looked like they
knew it too. Maggie's only question was whether Fox had admitted his
feelings--a
question she felt she could not ask her very private daughter.
A swift kick from the developing baby abruptly ended their embrace.
Mother and daughter pulled away from one another, wonder radiating
from both their faces. Naturally Scully had felt her child move
inside her many times, but this felt special, felt like a message to
the two exhilarated women.
Maggie reached out for her daughter's hands and covered them with
her own. "He's trying to tell us something, Dana."
Scully smiled at her mother's astonishment. "Maybe *she* is, Mom!"
"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Maggie had tried to coax it
out of her earlier in the day without success.
Her daughter grinned. "Who says I know?"
Maggie chuckled at her coyness. "Come on, it's time for more tea.
********************************************************************
"What's--"
Scully listened with satisfaction to Mulder's clear exclamation from
the bedroom. She sat on her couch, feet balanced on the coffee table
before her. She tried to suppress her laughter but it was nearly
impossible when her partner appeared before her, half dressed and
incredulous. He held the diminutive chair and doll carefully in his
large hands. Scully smiled at the contrast between his honey-golden
complexion and the delicate doll's austere plainness.
"I didn't want you to move from that couch, and I didn't think you
would mind--" he explained quickly.
She patted the cushion beside her, but he declined to sit, gently
placing the toys next to her. He knelt beside the couch, dress shirt
hanging open, slacks unbuttoned. Scully curbed her more prurient
thoughts, but not before Mulder noticed the blush on her cheeks. The
innuendo on the tip of his tongue was suppressed in his best
interest. They hadn't resumed that part of their relationship yet
and the doctor had forbidden most physical exertion after her
abruption, including sexual relations. He glanced at her sheepishly
and buttoned his pants.
Scully had been waiting for him to notice the doll for several
minutes now. He'd just come home from working a boring case all day.
The bureau didn't quite know what to do with him, sending him out as
an extra body on money laundering busts. Arresting accountants was
the least hazardous duty for Mulder, but also the most tedious of
assignments. She was sure he'd get fed up with this arrangement
before the baby was born.
Mulder secured the last few buttons on his shirt. He'd been
stripping out of his work clothes to take a quick shower before a
homemade dinner, something Scully's mom had brought over earlier.
The chair had caught his eye and he knew Scully had heard his
exclamation. He quickly decided to bring the items out to her,
intrigued by their careful placement on the dresser.
"I don't mind," Scully answered him. "I was expecting you to notice,
Mulder."
He got off his knees and sat on the floor, his back against the
couch and his hand on the seat cushion next to the miniature chair.
"Did you buy this for the doll?"
"No, it's a gift from my Mom. From her mom, really. It's quite
old, but it's survived the Scully family because it wasn't played
with by me or Missy."
Mulder grinned. "I guess being Dana Scully's plaything would be
pretty perilous duty."
"Mulder!"
He pursed his lips in a barely suppressed smile and caught her eye,
then looked away quickly.
"Sorry. I meant to keep the conversation clean." He looked up at
her earnestly, eager to return to their dialogue. "Is it really your
grandmother's chair?"
"Yes, Mom and I found it in the corner of her attic. There was a
doll for it once upon a time. It's been lost over the years but the
chair made it through all Dad's transfers around the country. Mom
never had a chance to give it to me or Missy for some reason and
finally she tucked it away for our own children... if we ever had
any, that is..."
Scully tried to wipe the few tears that ran down her cheek as
quickly as possible, but Mulder noticed them anyway. He reached over
and wrapped his hand around her own. She smiled briefly and berated
herself for the emotional roller coaster she seemed to be on lately.
She wasn't even sure why she was crying--was she upset over Missy not
surviving, not having children of her own? Or was she overwhelmed by
her own miracle child, the one yet to be born?
"Hey," he said softly, rubbing his thumb over her palm with a
rhythmic, soothing stroke. "I bet your Mom is really looking forward
to this."
Scully sniffled once and smiled. "Yeah. She's planning a baby
shower as we speak," she said with a grimace. "I couldn't stop her,
Mulder."
He grinned at her warmly and responded, "Nothing can stop a Scully
woman with a mission."
She returned his grin and said, "Relentless."
"Driven."
"Invincible."
"Always wants the last word," he said, rising to his knees and
bringing both her hands to his lips. He kissed her knuckles slowly,
enjoying the slight tremor in her hand. He rested their hands on her
knees and looked up at her. "I'm going to take my shower. Then
we're going to have that nice meal your mother made for us."
"We can watch a movie afterward," she added.
Mulder smiled up at her, then brought her hands to his face again,
this time kissing each palm slowly, sensuously, with a single stroke
of his tongue. He leaned closer to her, framing her face with his
warm hands. "Then I'm gonna make sure you get to bed early. For
Junior's sake, of course." He reached down between them and stroked
her firm belly and smiled.
"You're impossible, you know--"
He cut off her sentence with a kiss, brief, but passionate in
intent. "Miss your pizza man now?"
Scully shook her head from side to side and reached her hand out to
caress his cheek. "Nah. It was never meant to be."
"Fickle woman."
"Take your shower, Mulder."
"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, kissing her cheek before rising to his
feet.
Mulder picked up his grandmother's doll and her grandmother's chair
carefully, glancing over at Scully, and meeting her sentimental gaze
with a fleeting smile. He then headed for the bedroom,
returning the precious items to their place of honor on the dresser.
fin
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