TITLE: The Request
AUTHOR: Shoshana
EMAIL ADDRESS: [email protected]
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer, Spookys site, Xemplary,
etc.
SPOILER WARNING: Eighth season episodes through Per Manum.
RATING: PG
CONTENT STATEMENT: MS/UST
CLASSIFICATION: VA
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully UST
SUMMARY: The missing scene from Per Manum.
DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me.
NOTE: Huge thanks to Keleka and Sallie for beta reading!

The Request
By Shoshana

8:00 p.m.
X-Files basement office
Sometime in 1999...

"Mulder?"

I spin around in my desk chair at the sound of her voice, scrabbling
for the file slipping from my grasp. I hadn't expected her at this
late hour. I knew she had a doctor's appointment today--*the*
appointment with a fertility specialist--but I didn't think I'd see
or hear from her until tomorrow morning.

"Hi, Scully. I didn't hear your footsteps for some reason."

I smile as sincerely as I can, hiding a wealth of insecurities
behind my forced expression. I don't know what she's here for but
she doesn't appear upset by whatever news she received this
afternoon. I remember my manners and remove the papers and books
from her customary seat beside my desk. I don't usually stack things
there, but I did tonight. Like I said before, I thought she'd gone
for the day.

"Thanks," she says, masking her anxiety behind a tentative smile.

I know Scully. I know something is up now. Not necessarily bad
tidings from my judgment of her demeanor--she's nervous, but not sad.

She fidgets in the chair for a minute, scratching her neck
thoughtfully, examining her always-immaculate manicure for imaginary
imperfections. I move closer to her, as close as one can while still
remaining on the opposite side of the desk. I balance my left elbow
on top of the desk, supporting my chin with my hand in a casual
pose.

I'm nervous too, but I'm trying to conceal my own disposition while
appraising hers. I've wiped that plastic grin off my face, offering
her my undivided attention and complete interest in what she's come
here to say.

She lifts her head and captures me instantly with the gentle smile
around her eyes. Her lips match that softness, puckering slightly,
and she says, "I'm glad I found you here tonight, Mulder. I wanted
to tell you how things went at the doctor's office and I knew you'd
be working very late because of the Abercrombie case. I was afraid
if I stopped by your apartment you wouldn't be there so I didn't even
try."

"You could have called," I offer, not really thinking before I
speak. Probably not the right thing to say, Mulder. She'd never be
able to tell you about this over the phone.

She forgives my gaffe and throws me another slight grin. "No, I
don't think so. Not this time, Mulder."

She stretches her hand across the desk, reaching out but not
touching me in a long-familiar manner. I rest my hands on either
side of the desk and lean forward just a bit, diminishing the space
between us.

"Is something wrong? You don't seem upset," I state, nudging her
gently onward.

"No. No. I'm not upset at all. In fact, everything's going well
so far. I want to apologize for being short with you the other day,
by the elevator."

My gut clenches. She has no reason to apologize for my long-held
deception. I took full responsibility for my actions that day and I
want her to know that.

"No apology required, Scully. I needed to tell you about the ova
and your reaction was perfectly normal. Actually, I'm lucky I
escaped with all my body parts," I jest, trying to alleviate the
tension lingering in the air between us.

She rolls her eyes skyward, cracking a tender smile that always
affects me. She's always beautiful when she smiles, no matter how
slightly and I have a compelling impulse to take her hand in my own.
I don't. I don't want to inhibit her train of thought. I know from
experience the slightest brush of our hands can make her clam up in
the worst way. I tamp down my inclination and wipe the grin off my
mug.

"Okay," she says goodnaturedly. "We won't argue that point." She
sits up a little straighter in her seat and adopts a more serious,
yet untroubled visage. "I'll get back to the news I have for you.
It's good news, Dr. Parenti feels that with the proper approach, with
the fertilization and subsequent implantation of my ova, I might be
able to conceive."

Scully flashes a hopeful smile at me. I no doubt look as stunned as
I feel. I hoped for the best and I am truly astonished at how
quickly the doctor was able to appraise the viability of her ova.
Deep inside of me my worst fears emerge, tamping down my happiness
for Scully. If she has a child, if she has to leave the X-Files,
where does that leave me? I banish these thoughts to the obscure
corner of my mind where they dwelt until just a few weeks ago. I've
always feared losing Scully. Losing her to something as miraculous
as regaining her fertility, having a child of her own to love and
cherish--that would be a loss I would learn to live with.

I reach across the desk, gently covering her much smaller hand with
my own. I can't help myself. This news, this moment, deserves to be
celebrated in some physical way. I'd like to take her in my arms,
I'd like to kiss her for the first time.

I settle for a well-intentioned affectionate squeeze of her hand.
We are not lovers, nor have we ever been. I don't want to destroy
our relationship by overstepping my bounds. She's never crossed that
imaginary line, the one which maintains our friendship as a platonic
one. If she ever does, I'll rejoice--but I can't depend on that
happening soon, or ever, in our lives. I can't have a world without
Scully in it so I will accept whatever world she offers to me.

She smiles briefly, then politely extricates her hand from mine.
It's past the three minute warning for hand holding, I guess. Scully
makes the rules, I just follow them.

"That's wonderful news, Scully. I'm so happy for you," I say,
settling back into my chair with my arms spread wide, hands settling
on the leather material at the end of each armrest.

"It is, isn't it?" she says, flashing another shy smile. If she
knew how I felt about her would she be flying out the door in an
instant? I don't know. I don't know if I want to know.

"When can you start?" I ask cautiously, not wishing to sound
overcurious.

Her eyes fall downward, inspecting the floor. "I guess soon.
Whenever I like."

"Don't worry about work, Scully," I start hastily. "We'll find some
way for you to do this. It's up to you if you want to stay in this
division."

I realize too late what I've just blabbed to her. My worst fear
is that I will lose her friendship forever this way. Her knowledge
and perspective were what I initially respected. Soon, very soon,
after I met her and we became partners, I cherished her companionship
as well. And then... when I lost her, when I couldn't find her... I
can't lose her again after all these years.

I'm mortified by my outburst. She mustn't feel obligated to stay on
the X-Files. What would a woman with a small child do? How could I
be so selfish as to broach the subject so soon?

She must sense my chagrin. She cuts me off with a hand gesture
before I can apologize for my temerity.

"Mulder, it's okay. It's all right to look ahead to those
eventualities. Especially after you hear what I came to ask you."

"Really," I croak, an octave higher than my usual timbre. Why am I
so jittery--it's not like I'm going to father this child, am I?

Scully flashes another one of those Mona Lisa smiles at me again and
I try to relax. I assume my poker face, the one I use in
interrogations. I don't want to reveal any more innermost thoughts
to Scully. Not until I hear what her request is.

She joins her hands in her lap and sits up a little straighter,
eyeing me directly. I sit on the edge of my seat, balancing
carefully with my hands clasped together on top of the desk. I nod
my head, acknowledging that I'd like her to continue.

"Mulder, I can start the process for invitro immediately. The
doctor has no doubt of that. I just need to do one more thing before
I do."

"Yes. What would that be? Can I help you with it?"

Scully closes her eyes and smiles sweetly, a soft chuckle emerging.
"I guess you can." Her eyes open and bore into my very soul. "This
is difficult for me... and perhaps the most natural thing for me to
do in the world. You're my best friend, Mulder. You're the closest
male friend I've ever had. That includes all the men I've had
romantic relationships with as an adult."

She stops briefly, swallowing a lump in her throat. I
pretend to ignore her anxiety by sitting perfectly still, hanging on
every word she says.

"I need a donor. I need someone to father my child," she says
simply.

I am flabbergasted by her forthrightness. She has always been
honest with me, terrible liar that she is. This marks a new pinnacle
for her; her direct sincerity has me lost for words and she swiftly
realizes that. She rises out of her chair and takes a few steps
backward, toward the door.

"I, I should have thought more about this. I'm sorry, Mulder."

I jump out of my chair and cross the short distance between us,
ending up in her face and way too close for comfort. I take one
step back and lift my hand to her shoulder, brushing it for two
seconds, attempting to make her stay.

"No, Scully. Please stay. I'd like to hear more."

I don't know what else to say. I know I would do anything in the
world for Scully, including this. Yet, I don't want to tell her no
or yes right now. It would cheapen the seriousness of her request.
I can see how embarrassed she is. She thinks she's offended me. Oh,
Scully... don't you see how happy this would make me? To be forever
involved in your life, in our child's life?

She dips her head to her chest and takes one deep breath, holding
it, then letting it go. "Okay, I'll stay. I panicked there for a
minute. I didn't know what to think of your reaction."

"Don't think anything of it, Scully. Just sit down. Explain to me
the whole process. Tell me how many days you need off. Tell me
everything, okay? I'm not going to make a decision this evening. I
want to hear more details and then I think I should consider all
the possibilities for a few days. Would that be all right?"

I move toward her and take her hand loosely in mine. Effortlessly,
I guide her back to her seat and I resume mine. She stares at the
floor vacantly for a long minute while I ponder what to say next.

"Just tell me what we'd have to do, and the timeline for doing it.
So I can make an informed decision. Please?"

I lean across the desk, supporting the edge of my chin with one
hand, my arm bent at the elbow and balanced atop the wooden surface.
She lifts her head and our eyes meet. Hers are liquid, she's close
to tears. I ignore them, knowing she'd want me to.

"Go ahead, Scully. Lay it on me."

She's speaking to me now but I'm not really listening. I'm letting
all the medicalese and IVF mumbo jumbo go right by me. The only
image in my mind's eye is a tiny little baby with soft red hair and
blue, blue eyes. Oh, Scully, if you only knew how much I love you.

Maybe you do.

fin

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