TITLE: What She Wanted AUTHOR: Annette Gisby EMAIL: annette.gisby@which.net SPOILERS: Terms Of Endearment CONTENT: M/S UST, Angst, language, violence. RATING: R ARCHIVE: spookys, gossamer, ephemeral and anywhere else if my name and email stay attached WHAT SHE WANTED (1/1) What she wanted was a baby. Wanted it so badly it was like a physical ache in her useless womb, an ache deep down in her soul. If she still had a soul. Some days she wasn't so sure anymore. She'd had the ache long before she lost Emily, but after that it was much worse. She felt it all the time now, gnawing away at her insides. She was empty inside. Hollow. Everywhere she looked there were pregnant women, women with children. And now to have to face this. Four small skeletons, tossed out like trash because in their mother's eyes, they were *too* perfect. How could a child be too perfect? The other officers around her looked upset at the grisly discovery. She couldn't allow herself to be. She had to be calm, methodical and professsional. If she broke down now, if she cried now, she would never be able to stop. "No abnormalities, Mulder," she said in the strongest voice she could muster. She could feel eyes on her back, could imagine what they were thinking about her. Cold, heartless, bitch. But she had to be like that. Mulder didn't seem to notice or care how this case might be affecting her, just so long as he could investigate his precious X-File. A case they weren't even supposed to be working on. They were very distant lately, like the same poles on two magnets repelling each other when they got to close. It had happened after Emily. Her life was divided into two sections now. What happened before Emily and what happened after. She hadn't wanted to be comforted after the funeral, hadn't want to talk about it and it had annoyed Mulder. He'd wanted to play the big strong protector, but she'd denied him any role in her grief. She hadn't want to share, the pain went too deep, was too raw. She stood up, stretching, barely noticing the aches in her legs and back. She noticed the skeleton. How many more Emilys, her Emilys were out there? All her ova had been removed, so Mulder had told her. Not in private. In front of the judge when she'd applied to adopt Emily. Why couldn't he have told her in private? How long since he'd known? Ever since her abduction? And he didn't tell her. Didn't think she had a right to know. Oh, but he had to know everything, didn't he? Dig and dig until he found his precious truths, with no thought to how they might affect anyone else. Mulder walked over to her, placing his hand on the small of her back and she almost lost it then. Wanted to fold in on herself and curl up in a tight little ball, so that there was less of her to hurt. It was the first time he'd touched her in months, as though afraid of her rebuffal. He had been right to wait. She would have rebuffed him before, but not now. Now she just wanted to be held, to be soothed, to make the pain go aaway. He was the only one who could make it go away. She turned and buried her face against his chest, feeling her tears soak his shirt. What did it matter now? The tears would come anyway. "Come on, Scully. Let's go home." ******* The home he took her to was his, leaving her car in the airport lot. She could collect it in the morning. He didn't want her to drive. She was too drained to protest, as she followed him in and sat down on the couch. Mulder took her overnight bag through to the bedroom and then she heard him rattling aobut in the kitchen. She felt unreal, time out of joint, as if everything was happening through a dense fog. Muffled, but still understandable. She held her hands in front of her, just staring at them. They were pale with fine blue veins running through them, she could almost feel the blood coursing throughout her body. Her nails were chipped where she'd been digging up the babies. The dead babies. Did she have more dead babies? Her hands began to shake and she clasped them tight together to try and still them. Mulder returned, thrusting a steaming mug of coffee under her nose. She reached for it with trembling hands and took a sip. "Ugh!" she pulled a face. "It's full of sugar. You know I don't take sugar." Did he? Did he know? Or had he been totally ignoring her for the past six years? When she knew everything about him. Kept it filed away in the locked box of her mind labelled 'love'. "Drinnk it, Scully. It's good for shock." He sat down beside her on the couch, not touching her, just watching. She could smell the motel soap and shampoo on him, on her too, but it smelled better on him. She sipped the drink and winced at the sweetness, aware of him watching her every swallow. But finally it was done. "I'm sorry, Scully. I should have never asked you to become involved in this case." "Oh? So you finally noticed, did you? You can be so insensitive sometimes, Mulder." "I know. And I'm sorry. I should have thought more about how it might affect you." She stood up and took the empty coffee mug into the kitchen. "Have you something cold?" she called to him. She needn't something to get the taste out of her mouth. "There's some orange juice in the fridge," he called back. "I don't think it's gone off yet." She opened the door and pulled out the glass bottle and stared at what was behind it. The bottle slipped out of her hand and smashed on the floor. Shards of broken glass and a pool of orange juice lay at her feet. She grabbed the plates and cups which were sitting on the drainer and smashed them agaisnt the wall in her fury. They shattered into pieces with a satisfying crack. Oh, it felt good, but what she really wanted to do was to smash Mulder's head against the wall. She could almost hear the thud, could almost see and smell his blood. She wanted to see him hurt, very hurt. "Scully! What the hell are you doing?" He was standing in the doorway, screaming at her. A prime target. She hurled a plate like a frisbee, but her aim was short. It fell and samshed inches in front of his feet. He stode towards her, among the ruins of his dinner service and grabbed another plate from out of her hand. "Scully! Stop! What the hell's wrong with you?" In answer, she whacked his face. He staggered backwards, holding his jaw. Blood was dripping from his mouth and he glared at her, before bulldozing towards her and grabbing her wrists so that she couldn't strike him again. "You bastard!" she shrieked at him, while trying to headbutt him. "You bastard!" She was sobbing now and hated herself for it. "Scully? What is it? What's wrong?" Oh, so he was going to play the innocent now, was he? "In - in - the - the - fridge," she managed to squeeze the words out between sobs and hiccups. "Oh God! I'd forgotten they were in there." "You forgot? YOU FORGOT?!!" She struggled to pull herself away from him and he reluctantly let her go. "You have my ova in your fridge and you *forgot*? Very convenient, if you're working with *them*." "I'm not! It's nothing like that. I was going to tell you, Scully." "When? When I was old and grey and unable to give a good life to my child? How could you do it, Mulder? How could you keep this from me? I thought you lo--" she stopped mid-sentence, horribly aware of what she'd been about to reveal. Mulder must never know that. Not now, not ever. "I have an appointment at a fertility clinic next week. I would be grateful if you could arrange the transfer of my ova to them." "A fertility clinic?" he asked stupidly. "Yes. I'm having IVF treatment and it will be a lot easier if I have my own eggs." He looked agahst, his face ashen, like he didn't believe she would do this on her own. She hadn't confided this to him and he looked put out. Like he had always told her everything? "I'm sure that can be arranged," he said quietly. ***** It took her three months to find the donor she wanted to be the father of her child. Her family thought she was being very clinical and detached about it all, especially her mother. But what did they know? She wanted a baby, so she had one. Lots of people were single parents these days, she would cope, she had to. The donor had been tall, dark haired with hazel eyes. Like Mulder. "See?" she shook the page of details to the apartment. "See, Mulder? I don't need you. I don't need you!" The tears splattered onto the baby on her lap, but she did nothing to stop them. Did people always cry when they got what they wanted? WHAT SHE WANTED II The baby was crying. In fact the baby hadn't stopped crying for the past five hours. It was three in the morning and Scully had yet to get to sleep. She'd fed Sophie, she'd changed her, she'd rocked her, but none of it did any good. The baby was still crying She was exhausted as she paced up and down the apartment with Sophie lying over her shoulder, trying to soothe her. What had her mother done with them when they'd been like this? But she refused to ask her for help. She would cope on her own, she had to. The baby was two months old and in that time, Scully felt like she'd aged twenty years. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stared at her reflection, shocked at what she saw. Her hair was flat and listless, dark shadows under her eyes, and she looked so thin. Could this skeleton with skin really be her? "Sophie, what is it?" she cried to the child, willing it to talk back to her. Anything so that she would know what was wrong. She had a month left on her maternity leave, a month to decide what she was going to do. Her mother had already told her that she wouldn't become the babysitter. Dana had made her bed, and now she had to lie in it, her mother's words. It was okay for Tara and Bill to avail themselves of Grandma as a babysitter, after all they were *married*, weren't they? Scully didn't think her mother would have been so narrow minded. Maggie thought it was shameful for Scully to have had a baby outside of marriage, never mind that it was born due to technology and not in the marital bed. Her mother had never even seen Sophie, a card was the only acknowledgement that she had another grandchild. Just as Sophie was about to drift off to sleep, there was a knock on the door and she started roaring her head off again. Scully was close to tears herself by now, tears of frustration and anger. She knew who was at the door. Who else would it be at this time of night? "Scully? It's me." "Go away, Mulder, it's late." "I know. I had to see you. I couldn't sleep." He couldn't sleep? She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good night's sleep. She opened the door, knowing that no-one was going to get any sleep otherwise. "You didn't return my calls," began Mulder before he was even half way through the door. "So?" she sat down on the sofa and cradled the baby against her shoulder. Sophie didn't seem to want to stop crying and she was getting a headache. "I was worried about you." "Oh, that's nice," she said dryly. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Scully." "And you would know what does suit me?" "Motherhood suits you," he said quietly. "You look so natural with her." He was wearing his black jeans and a white t-shirt under his leather jacket, he looked well. Being without her obviously agreed with him. And made her more aware than ever of her own state of dishevelment. "Skinner told me, you don't want to work with me anymore," it wasn't a question, but she nodded her head in answer anyway. "It's not a matter of want, Mulder. I *can't* work with you. I can't trust you anymore." Sophie was showing no signs of giving her lungs a rest and started bawling in earnest. "May I?" asked Mulder and reached for the baby. Scully paused, unsure, but in the end she let Mulder hold Sophie. She stopped crying as soon as she was in his arms. Great, he could even charm children now, but it did nothing to endear him to Scully. It was just one more thing he was good at and she was hopeless at. "I think she knows," said Scully quietly. "Knows what?" asked Mulder, rocking Sophie gently in his arms, his large hands dwarfing her small frame. "That I'm not her mother." "What? But you were pregnant, Scully. I saw you." "They couldn't use my eggs, they were useless. They don't keep well in the fridge, apparently," she glared at him. It was his fault. If he hadn't kept it from her in the first place, she could have used them and Sophie would be biologically hers. "So, you used donor eggs? What was it like? The procedure, I mean." What was it like? What was it like? The drugs, the poking and the prodding, he wanted to know about that, did he? Why? So he could rub her nose in the fact that she was unable to have children on her own without medical intervention? That she was useless as a woman and hopeless as a mother? She had the impression that Sophie hated her. "It was awful," she finally said, the tears flowing down her face. She turned away, unwilling to let him see how upset she was, how out of control. This woman who kept weeping over every little thing, wasn't her. It couldn't be. Dana Scully rarely cried. Sophie's mother cried all the time. She sensed Mulder come up behind her, sensed that he wanted to hug her, but he was holding Sophie, so all she felt was a kiss on the back of her neck. It startled her and she turned to face him. "Why, Mulder? Why did you keep it from me?" "I don't really know. I guess I was hoping--," he glanced down at the baby in his arms and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I was hoping that one day I'd tell you and we could have a baby together." Sully felt hot and cold all at once. He wanted them to have a baby together? When they'd never even gone on a date? It was ludicrous. She dared not believe him. It would mean, it would mean that he loved her and that knowledge was something she couldn't cope with right now. Mulder giggled as Sophie tried to take his nipple in her mouth. "I think you need your mommy for that," he smiled at the baby, before handing her over to Scully. Scully walked towards her bedroom, to get some privacy while she feed Sophie, but she was stopped by Mulder's hand on her shoulder. "Stay," he whispered hoarsely. "Stay?" she repeated, not quite sure she'd heard correctly. "I'd like to watch." "Is this how you get your kicks these days, Mulder?" she was furious with him. How dare he even suggest it. "I didn't mean it like that. It's the most beautiful and natural thing in the world, and I don't think it should be hidden away." Mulder plumped up the cushions on the sofa, so that she would be comfortable and she sat down, feeling a little embarrassed. Sophie was insistent and began to nuzzle Scully's breast through her pyjama top. "Hold on!" laughed Scully and unfastened the first three buttons. She was very aware of Mulder watching her and felt a flush rising in her cheeks. Sophie latched on to a nipple and began to suck contentedly, her lips smacking with every suckle. Scully looked at the dark-haired child in her arms, stroking her cheek and wondering how she could have produced something so beautiful. She sensed, rather than saw Mulder move to sit beside her. She risked a glance up at him and what she saw made her heart thump wildly in her chest. He had a look of such awe on his face, as if he had never seen anything as beautiful, as wonderful as her and her baby. "Does it hurt?" he asked her. He was barely inches away from her and she realised she wanted him to move closer, she wanted him to watch everything. "No." "What does it feel like?" he asked, gazing into her eyes. Scully wondered where all his curiosity came from. Did he need to know everything? Did he want to know what the experience was like, an experience he knew he could never hope to have? "It's hard to describe. It's like a tugging - a tugging in my womb, every time she sucks." "Is it - is it arousing?" he was touching her now, a soft feather caress of her neck and she almost came undone. Oh God. "No. But - but you watching me is, and you touching me is." It was, she felt on fire knowing that he was looking at her. It was the most erotic feeling she'd ever had. "Do you want me to stop?" he was giving her back control, but she wasn't sure she wanted to be in control anymore. She wanted him to stop, she wanted him to go on. She wanted the decision taken out of her hands. She let out a gasp as she felt Mulder's hand cup her empty breast. "The baby," she protested, but it sounded half-hearted. Mulder's response was to kiss her neck, suckling on it as Sophie had suckled on her breast and she let out an involuntary moan. "The baby is asleep," whispered Mulder in her ear. "Hold on," she said to him and took Sophie into her bedroom, laying her in the cradle. Sophie didn't stir, even when Scully tucked her in. She turned on the baby monitor and went back to the living room to talk to Mulder. To talk. That was all they were going to do tonight. Mulder obviously had other ideas. His jacket and to-shirt lay discarded over the arm of the sofa, but his jeans were still on and looking tighter by the minute. "We need to talk, Mulder. Sleeping with you won't make everything all right again. I have to know I can trust you again." "You can, Scully." "How do I know? I thought I could trust you before, but look what happened. You hurt me, Mulder. It hurt that you didn't feel you could tell me. It hurt that I was told about my infertility during a routine check-up by my doctor, when you already knew and could have told me." "I didn't do it to hurt you, Scully. That's the last thing I ever wanted. I won't hurt you again. You have to believe that." "I want to believe it, Mulder. I'm just not sure I can." "What can I do to prove it to you?" "I don't know." "Help me out here, Scully. I'd do anything for you. You know that." What could he do? What did she want him to do? Something to prove his love or something so she could trust him again? How did you regain trust? Was there a magic recipe somewhere, eye of newt and tongue of frog? "Would you marry me?" she asked, surprised at the question which popped out of her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that, or had she? Maybe her subconscious knew her desires better that she did. "I would." It was the correct answer. She almost ran towards him and buried her face against his chest. Mulder smoothed down her hair, before scooping her up in his arms and heading toward the bedroom. "Mulder, stop!" she said urgently. "What?" "The couch. Take me to the couch," she smiled up at him, he just looked bemused. She reached up to stroke his cheek. "We don't want to wake the baby." WHAT SHE WANTED III: Father's Day The first thing he realised when he woke up, was that he wasn't on his own couch. This one was more comfortable for a start, the cushions were soft, there weren't springs digging into his body and leaving him with unexplained scars and bruises in the morning. The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone. His back was to the couch, but wrapped up in his arms was a warm and soft body. A body spooned up against his own. A body with a shock of red hair leaning against his chest. She mumbled something in her sleep and then began to move, as though trying to get even closer to him. They were melded together with not even air between them. Her movements were having an effect on his lower body and on his brain, in the fact that any thoughts he might have had flew out the window. All he was aware of was this wonderful body next to him and the delicious sensations said body was causing in his own. He let his hand wander down her side, stroking her through the satin of her red pyjamas. He'd told her last night that he thought they clashed with her hair, and she should sleep naked instead. She didn't take him up on the offer. He thought it was endearing, the way she had blushed and rushed to cover herself after their lovemaking. He'd seen everything already, why did she want to hide away now? Mulder kissed the top of her head and let his hands wander all over her body. He stroked her breasts and felt her nipples harden beneath his hands, but she didn't wake, only moaned low in her throat, almost a growl. It sent an electric charge straight to his groin. Should he wake her or continue and let her think it was a lovely dream? He glanced at the baby monitor, Sophie was still asleep. Would they have time before she woke up? But no, Sophie had other ideas. As soon as the first cry was out of her mouth, Scully woke up abruptly and dashed to the bedroom. Mulder laughed, why couldn't she wake up like that for him? He wondered briefly if Scully had some built-in radar when it came to Sophie, or was it something all mothers had. He couldn't imagine his own mother rushing to look after him and Sam. "Mulder," Scully called from the bedroom. "Can you bring in some diapers? They're in the third drawer of the dresser." "Whatever you say, Ma'am," said Mulder and began his hunt. He couldn't get the drawer open first of all, it felt like there was something stuck behind it. It seemed to be something that had fallen down from the second drawer and was now lodged behind the two of them. He gave it a good yank and the drawer came completely out, spilling its contents all over the carpet. Diapers weren't the only thing in it. There were creams for this and that, small hairbrushes, tiny scissors and a rattle. He dind't know babies generated so much stuff. As he gathered everything up, he discovered what had fallen down behind. A folder, from the Mayford Clinic. So that's where she went. A slip of paper fell out of the folder as he was putting it back. He didn't mean to read it, but the words just jumped out at him. As well they would. "Donor Details: RACE: Caucasian HEIGHT: 6"4 EYES: Hazel HAIR: Dark/Black INTELLIGENCE: 152." He shut the file with a snap as he heard Scully come up behind him. It was like reading about himself. Scully chose a donor who looked like him? It was probably nothing, there were hundreds of people who looked like that. Maybe he should tell her, but how? It wasn't really something you could drop into the middle of conversation. He continued to gather everythhing up and then handed Scully one of the diapers, his hand shaking. Had she seen him looking at the folder? "Mulder? Are you okay?" "Fine," he muttered. "Just a little disaster with the drawer." "I can see that!" she laughed and went back into the bedoom to change Sophie. Mulder continued tidying up, his mind in a whirl. It couldn't be, could it? He had to admit there was a chance, if only a slim one, and he realised that he was hoping. Hoping that it was true. Scully came back holding Sophie in her arms. Mulder had never seen anything so beautiful as Scully and her baby and he felt proud to be involved. "So, Scully. Like to set the date?" "What?" She rocked Sophie, who was making contented gurgling noises. "The wedding? Last night? Or did you forget that you proposed to me?" "I didn't forget, Mulder. I just didn't know you wanted to take me up on the offer so soon. When would you like to get married?" "Any time's fine with me, as long I get married to you." He walked over and hugged them both, kissing Scully on the forehead. "But before we do, there's something I have to tell you. It's about Sophie." Scully paled and looked as though she was about to faint. He led her over to the couch and made her sit down. "Oh God, Mulder! What is it? Is Sophie all right?" "She's fine, as far as I know. It's about Sophie and me. When I was looking for the diapers, a folder fell out. From the fertility clinic." "And you looked." She didn't sound angry, more resigned, as if she had come to expect this sort of thing from him. "Yes, I looked. I saw the details of the donor you'd chosen. I was flattered, it was almost like reading aobut myself. What I'm trying to say is that it might actually *be* me." "What do you mean?" "The Mayford Clinic. I'm one of their donors." ******** Scully stared at him, not quite beleiveing what she was hearing. He could actually have been the donor? Mulder could be Sophie's real father? It was what she hoped for when she'd chosen the donor, a substitute for the real Mulder. But what if it wasn't a substitute? What if Mulder was the real father? Would it change anything between them? "You never told me you were a donor," said Scully. "It never came up, before. I had to tell you, Scully. I didn't want us to get married without telling you. It was bound to come up sooner or later. Are you angry?" "No. Just surprised. It wasn't something I'd ever considered about you. Why did you do it? Why become a donor in the first place?" He paused, as if unsure how she'd react to his reply. "It was after I found out about your infertility. I realised that nothing was guaranteed, so I thought I'd save some sperm for posterity, just in case anything happened to me." "But how come I may have been impregnated with it?" "I gave the clinic permission to use some of it for other people, they may have used it for you. Would you mind if I took a paternity test? To see if I am Sophie's father?" "I don't know, Mulder. What happens if you take it and find out Sophie isn't yours? Would you treat her differently if you knew for sure?" "I love you, Scully. I love Sophie. I would just like to know, one way or the other." Scully nodded her head. She was curious herself now, but a little worried. It was all right saying that they loved Sophie, but what if she wasn't Mulder's? What then? Would they feel disappointed, and take it out on poor Sophie? "I'll make an appointment for you both," said Scully and Mulder pulled a face. "Do we have to get blood taken?" he asked worriedly. "No, they can do it with saliva these days," smiled Scully. "I didn't think you'd be scared of needles, Mulder." "There's a lot you don't know about me." "Really?" she grinned at him. "Well, it'll be fun finding out!" ******** The results arrived the day before Father's Day. The envelope landed on the mat at nine o'clock in the morning. It was after three before they had the courage to open it. Once the results were known, there was no turning back. They couldn't pretend ignorance anymore. Mulder was sitting at the table, Sophie was in the high chair opposite him, while Scully was at the sink washing up their lunch dishes. Mulder was trying to feed Sophie, but she was having none of it. There was more food on the floor and his shirt than there was in her mouth. Anytime he did manage to get a spoonful in her mouth, she spat it out at him, giggling in the process. "Now, Sophie," began Mulder in what Scully thought of his mock stern voice. "Food is for eating, not for playing. If you eat, we can play later." She giggled again, but this time she ate the meal with no further problems. "I suppose we'd better open it," said Mulder after he'd finished the cleanup job on Sophie and the high chair. Scully often wondered how one little person could make so much mess. "Yes," said Scully, aware that she didn't know what answer she wanted to receive. She read it first, her eyes scanning the page, not really taking it in at first. She handed it to Mulder, wanting to know his reaction as well. Mulder read it a couple of times before he answered her. "It says here, according to the DNA results, it's unlikely that I'm her father." He was disappointed, she could tell from his voice, and the way he hugged Sophie closer to his body, resting his head on top of hers. Scully tilted his head up to look at her, to see how much she loved them, no matter what some test said. Sully took the test results from the table and ripped it up into tiny pieces, letting the pieces fall to the floor like confetti. "What did you do that for?" asked Mulder. She remembered all the times he'd read a story to Sophie when she couldn't sleep, the way he rocked her all night when she had colic, the way he would go into the nursery at night to watch her sleep. All Dad things, all father things. "The test is wrong, Mulder," said Scully. "You *are* her father." THE END feedback appreciated at penguin2@cableinet.co.uk (new email) -- check out my x-files fanficiton at http://homepages.which.net/~annette.gisby/index.htm