TITLE: After Dinner
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer, Spookys site, Xemplary,
etc.
SPOILER WARNING: Eighth season episodes through Three Words.
RATING: PG
CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR
CLASSIFICATION: VRA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance
SUMMARY: Post ep for Three Words.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
NOTE: Huge thanks to Keleka and Sallie for beta reading!

After Dinner
By Shoshana

Mulder accepted another wine glass from Scully's wet hands,
meticulously drying it with a rough textured tea towel. He placed
the goblet next to its three mates on the middle shelf of the cabinet
above the sink. They glistened from his careful polishing, ready for
use on some other special occasion.

Like tonight, Mulder thought. 'Welcome back your not-quite-dead
friend night'--not your average celebration in most households, yet a
plausible one for employees of the X-Files investigative unit. How
many times had the Lone Gunmen arrived at one of their apartments
after a near disaster had almost robbed him of Scully's company or
vice versa? He'd given up tallying their almost, but not quite death
experiences a long time ago.

Scully's elbow nudged him out of his reverie, alerting him to the
dessert plates coming his way. He patiently dried and stacked each
of the five ceramic dishes, savoring the tantalizing brush of
Scully's fingertips against his own during each handoff.
Occasionally she would glance his way, a subdued smile on her lips.

He wasn't certain how pissed off she was or not--they hadn't spoken
much since the guys had left fifteen minutes ago. It had been easy
to avoid serious conversation at first; he'd offered to help her
clean up the damage from the impromptu gathering, limiting his
questions to ones of a practical nature.

Leftovers had been refrigerated or disposed of as the case might
dictate; all eating utensils, stemware, tableware either washed and
put away or were being processed at that very moment. A comfortable
silence had ruled for the last few minutes as she dunked and scrubbed
and he dried and polished.

He could have left well enough alone. He could have waited, could
have allowed her to tell all tomorrow, perhaps the next day. He
couldn't.

He had to know what the hell was going on. What the hell had she
told his friends? Or not told them as the case may be.

He'd thought he'd had it all figured out. He hadn't asked her
whether it was his at the hospital, didn't feel the need to. She'd
told him with her eyes the first time he'd noticed the difference in
her figure.

He hadn't said a thing; he'd just stared at her open-mouthed as
she'd retrieved the medical chart from the foot of the bed. After a
few minutes of scrutiny, she'd replaced it in its holder, then
glanced back over at Mulder. She'd quickly realized why he'd been so
quiet while she'd reviewed his course of treatment.

Cheeks flushed with equal quantities of embarrassment and joy, she'd
stood very close to the side of the bed, grasping his still weak
hand, placing it against her belly. Still lost for words, he'd
rubbed his fingers over the smooth fabric of her clothing. Her
unworried countenance told him all he needed to know, all he cared to
know at the time.

He'd had worries later, when left alone with his thoughts. How did
she really know her due date? Was she seeing a legitimate doctor?
He didn't dare ask these things of her. He'd wait and ask Frohike
for help if he still needed to know.

When he was feeling particularly morose one night he imagined she
wouldn't need his help at all with the child. That she was humoring
him now while he was ill and would be ready to move on once he'd
recovered.

He'd discovered this wasn't so--simply because she'd refused to
leave his side, even after he returned to his apartment. She wasn't
letting him out of her sight for one day while he was still
vulnerable, still unsure of his place in their lives.

Mulder was still embarrassed he'd told her he didn't know where he
fit into their lives anymore. Those first few minutes in his
apartment had crystallized all his worst fears for the future--would
he ever be able to go back to the FBI? Would he be on fertilizer
duty the rest of his career? What was Scully going to do when she
was done with maternity leave?

He hadn't had the nerve to ask her questions like that one.
Especially when he was so uncertain what he should be doing, where he
should be looking for help. He had to make sure no more abductees
were taken. He had to expose the complicity of government
agencies with the aliens. These problems loomed larger than his own,
dwarfed his awkward adjustment back to his friends, his family.

Scully was his family now. So why were they still sniping at one
another? Could they work this out one day at a time?

"Mulder?"

He snapped out of the dense fog he'd been in since she'd handed him
the last dessert plate. He'd been leaning against the kitchen
counter, waiting for her to finish cleaning the silverware. She'd
stacked the last of it in the dish drainer and turned to find him
staring at his shoes in silence.

He lifted his eyes and met her smile with his own.

"Just thinking."

"Yeah?" she replied. "Something I can help you with?"

He shook his head and snickered. "You already help me with
everything, Scully." He drew closer to her and took her hand.
"You're not upset about that campaigning remark, are you?" he posed
sincerely.

She took several steps closer and placed her hand on his forearm.
"You're not upset about Langly's impertinence, are you?"

Mulder smiled, recalling the remark about the coming blessed event.
"I'm shocked. A little stunned you didn't tell them the truth."

"They didn't ask. I didn't tell."

"It's not the army, Scully. You could have trusted them as my
friends."

"I know." She averted her eyes to the hardwood floor; her hand
played with the drawer handle beside them. She lifted her face back
to address him, "I didn't want to tell anyone but you, Mulder. In
the beginning I was forced to tell Skinner. By the time I was
showing there was no reason to elaborate on the situation. If your
best friends didn't believe it was yours, what would have been the
point of telling them so explicitly?"

Mulder closed the distance between them, putting his hands on her
hips. "I know it wasn't easy for you, Scully. You deserved all the
help you could get. I wish I'd been here."

She brought her hands up to his face, stroking his cheeks lightly.
"You're here now. And I'm not letting you off easy."

"Oh, yeah? Got any plans for tonight?" he said lightly.

She leaned in to kiss him at the same time he did. Her stomach was
a new obstacle between them but they seemed to find a way around it,
kissing each other deeply for several minutes. When they broke the
kiss, she stepped back as gracefully as she could, taking his hand
and leading him to the dining room table where the laptop computer
was already set up.

"Why don't you work on those leads you thought you had? I'm going
to take a cab to the drugstore. I don't think either of us should be
driving around tonight and I need to pick up my prescription. I'll
be back soon and then we can discuss further 'plans.'"

He smiled at her, admiring everything about her, her beauty, her
self-control, her ability to keep him on the right track. "Don't be
long, all right?" he told her, crossing the room to get her cell
phone.

"All right," she said as she dialed the number and ordered the cab.
She ended the conversation and headed for the restroom without a word
of explanation.

Mulder was waiting with her overcoat when she emerged from the
bathroom.

"They should be down there by now," he said.

"Okay. Stay here," she ordered solemnly.

"Of course," he promised with an earnest grin.

He escorted her to the door, stealing one more kiss before she left
for the elevator. He leaned his back against the threshold for
several long minutes, then walked back to the middle of the room.

fin

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