Author: Circe Invidiosa
Rating: PG
Classification: MSR 
Spoilers: references to The Unnatural, all things, Rain King, Per 
Manum flashback scenes (at least, what I read about them), stuff 
we only learn about in season 8; occurs sometime between all 
things and Requiem
Disclaimer: I make no claims on the characters or the show. 
They are property of Fox.
Archiving: yours for the asking
Acknowledgement: as always, thanks to Carol
Summary: Mulder gives Scully a belated birthday present...again

Mulder placed the box on the coffee table in front of Scully. It 
was nicely wrapped. She was sure he hadn't done it himself. She 
couldn't imagine him having the patience.

"What's this, Mulder?" she asked as her fingers touched the 
curled ribbon that spilled out from under the bow.

"What does it look like?" he asked in reply as he sat down beside 
her on his couch.

She rolled her eyes with some impatience.  "Well, it looks like a 
present, but what's it for? What's the occasion?"

He sat back with crossed arms and said, "It was around this time 
last year I gave you a birthday present."

"So you're making your tardiness an annual thing?" she asked.

"What happened to 'it's the thought that counts'?

Her fingers pulled a strip of ribbon taut and released it 
allowing it to spring back. "My point is your thoughts are late 
for the second year in a row. And before that where were they?"

He gave her an indignant look.  "I still prefer to think I was 
early...Give me a break, Scully. I've remembered before."

She looked back at him with a smirk.  "Sporadically..."

"Jeez, Scully. Do you want the gift or not? I can take it back 
if you're going to be ungrateful."  He started to make a grab for 
the box.

She smiled and pulled the box to her lap protectively.  "Forget 
it. It's mine now."

"Are you going to open it?" he asked with impatience.

"I'm admiring the wrapping."

"Fine. Take your time."  He got up and started to clear the 
dishes off the coffee table.

"Did you wrap it?" she asked as he moved to the kitchen.

"As far as you need to know," he replied from the kitchen.

She couldn't suppress a giggle.  "Can I shake it?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out," he said, reappearing. He placed two 
mugs on the coffee table and returned to his place beside her on 
the couch.

Scully couldn't help smiling. She picked up the box and held it 
close to her ear. She gave it a slight jiggle. The contents 
slid around with a soft thud against the inside walls of the box. 
It was heavier on one side and that weight shifted as she shook 
the box.

"Can I have a hint?" she asked.

He asked in return, "A hint? Okay..." Her eyebrow raised in 
anticipation as Mulder leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Open 
it."

She laughed again. She couldn't help herself. He should give her gifts everyday.

She started to pick at the edges of the tape that held the paper 
on the box. She slowly peeled the tape off and folded back the 
paper.

Mulder nearly jumped off the edge of the couch watching her 
painstakingly unwrap the present.  "Scully, don't you know how to 
open a present? You're taking the joy out of it! You have to 
rip the paper!"

"Mulder, the paper is lovely and can be reused. Haven't you 
heard of recycling?"

"There's more to the present than the paper, Scully. The paper 
isn't the point..."

She looked at him as he argued with her. Without averting her 
gaze from him, she pulled the corner of paper she had just freed 
across the box making a loud tearing sound. "Happy?" she 
asked.

"More than you know," he replied, smiling.

Scully pulled the rest of the paper off and examined the box. It 
could have held anything. It was bigger than an ordinary shirt 
box. She shook it again.

She was flattered if not delighted that he had thought of her 
like this. That he would think of her outside the context of 
work. That he would try to think of something she may want or 
need. She broke the strip of tape that held the box shut with a 
mix of anticipation and anxiety.

She lifted the lid. She found herself presented with confusion. 
Her hand moved across the light blue terry cloth contained in the 
box. She looked at him finally. His face only revealed his 
anticipation of her next question or statement of fact.

At last, she asked for a second time, "Mulder, what is this?"

He answered by repeating, "What does it look like?"

"A bathrobe."

"Then the most logical conclusion is that it is a bathrobe. 
Remember Occam's Razor, Scully?"

"Mulder, I am the last person to whom you need to quote Occam's 
Razor. I have a bathrobe..."

He interrupted, "There's more..."

Scully gave him a momentary look of more confusion. She picked 
up the lapels of the robe. It was softer and thicker than she 
expected. She pulled it to her chest. Inside the fold of the 
robe lay several bottles and a thin plastic package. She picked 
up the bottles. They were her brand of shampoo, the shower gel 
she used, and her favourite bath oil. She picked up the 
plastic tube. It was a brand new toothbrush.

"What's going on, Mulder? 

He seemed to ignore the question.  "The robe might be a bit big. 
I noticed your robe at home was a size bigger than normal and I 
got the same size as that. I thought blue might be nice...bring 
out your eyes, you know? You can exchange it if you want another 
colour, or size, or style. I won't be offended."

"I have all these things already."

He slid closer to her on the couch. He said quietly, "I know you 
have them already Scully, but you don't have them here."

"What are you saying, Mulder?"

He looked at her. He reached over and touched her hair, stroking 
it from her face. He said, "Stay."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"I want you to stay. For a whole night. Not until you think 
I've fallen asleep and you think you can escape. I want to see 
you in the morning...I'm trying to take away your excuses for 
leaving. All you need is a change of clothes, which I know you 
have in your car..."

She looked at him stunned. Her mouth opened, but she said 
nothing. She couldn't think of how to respond.

He took her hand and said, "I don't want this to be relationship of 
convenience. I want you to want to be here with me. I don't 
want you to be here because..."

She interrupted, "When has our relationship ever been 
convenient?" There was annoyance in her voice.

"Scully, I'm not trying to make this into an argument. I'm 
trying to tell you what I want."

"We've spent the whole night together before..."

"At your place. I assume because you can't exactly leave your 
own home in the middle of the night. And how often have we been 
there? Twice? You have never spent a whole night here."

She couldn't argue with him. It was true. Since that first 
night they finally gave into each other, she hadn't spent a full 
evening in his bed. She would inevitably wake up, if she fell 
asleep at all, and would try to steal away. Sometimes she had 
woken him, but he said nothing to her, letting her go. She 
pretended not to notice he was awake. But the last time at his 
place, their eyes met in the dark and neither of them could deny 
what was happening. She left anyway.

That was days ago. Neither of them broached the subject. 
Neither was sure if the other was angry, but they continued to 
work together in the manner they always had. A pressing case 
kept them from being able to invite each other to spend the 
evening until tonight. 

She sat now, not knowing what he wanted to hear. He spoke again 
more gently, "Remember you asked me why don't I ever sit still? 
Well, I'm asking you now. Scully, after this much time, being 
partners, being friends, I want this to mean something. I don't 
want this to be because we couldn't find anyone else. I don't 
want this to be simply because we were there."

She looked at him thoughtfully. She remembered when she asked 
him that question. It was just as he left for England. They 
were both annoyed with one another. Then within two days 
of him being gone, her life went back to the past, and then was 
propelled into the future with his return.

He continued, "We've been through too much together. I need you 
too much to ruin our friendship, so I want to make sure we're 
going in the same direction for the same reasons."

Any anger or irritation that was in her eyes had faded. His 
words touched her deeply. She kissed the back of his hand. She 
chuckled and said, "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

He nodded, but asked, "What do you mean?"

"Just that after everything we've been through, after seven 
years, the fact that we trust no one else, and yet, we still 
can't say the simple things without a confrontation. We can't 
read each other's minds and figure out what the other wants and 
needs."

"You're losing me here, Scully..."

"You want to know why I leave. I'm scared. It's pretty simple."

"What are you afraid of?"

"That you just feel sorry for me."

He stared at her a long moment before he finally spoke, "Hold on. 
You think we're sleeping together out of pity?"

She nodded. He turned away from her and snorted in disbelief. 
She started to stare at her hands and continued, "I just didn't 
want to see the regret when you woke up. I didn't want to 
see it register for even a second..."

"Scully, how could you think I would regret this?"

She shrugged. "Well, what about you, you think we're only 
together because we don't have the time or inclination to find 
anyone better. You make it sound like we made a pact: 'if I'm not 
married by the time I'm forty...'"

"Hey, I'm almost there..." He couldn't resist interrupting.

She rolled her eyes and continued, "Well, how can you think that? 
God, Mulder, would I have asked you to father a child with me if 
I felt like that, if I didn't want some sort of life with 
you? Do you think I asked you out of convenience? If I didn't 
want to be with you how could I ask you to give me that much of 
your life?"

-----------

Mulder was a taken aback. They hadn't spoken about the invitro since the last failed effort. He  never brought it up. He didn't
want to pain her any more than  she had been. And he couldn't
deal with his own disappointment. When she had asked him to be
the father, he could see how much it  took for her to do so. He thought she was embarrassed, almost  humiliated to ask. He
agreed earnestly. He felt like it was the  least he could do after all
that was taken from her because of  her loyalty to him. And if it
worked, he'd be tied to her  forever through their child. She would
always have something of  him no matter what happened to him.

He would never admit to himself that his illness was a motivation 
for his enthusiasm to make her a mother. He wouldn't admit it 
because he refused to believe whatsoever that he couldn't 
be cured and spend the rest of his days raising a child with her. 
That's why he wouldn't tell her. It was why he now wanted to 
make a fuller commitment to her. And by now he had convinced 
himself that it was better and easier to deal with Scully's anger 
than Scully's grief.

She resumed her lecture. "Remember that case last year where you 
believed that weatherman was controlling the town's weather? Do 
you remember his heart's desire, Sheila?"

He nodded and she continued, "I ended up telling her that the 
best relationships are based in friendship...that one day a 
switch is flipped and you realize that this person who was your 
friend is suddenly the only person you can imagine the rest of 
your life with. I believe that. But maybe in my case, it wasn't 
just one day but a few years. Maybe we didn't fall head over 
heals for one another but somewhere along the way I knew I 
couldn't live without you."

He smiled at her remembering that silly couple. He wondered if 
people looked at them the same way. Holman implied as much. He 
thought aloud, "You're right, we are quite a pair."

He reached out to her and hugged her. He held her for a long 
while, just cherishing her in his arms, before he kissed her 
forehead, and released her. He asked, "Why would you think I 
would pity you and regret being with you?"

She turned away this time, not wanting to face him as she 
explained, "I don't know, Mulder...I've tried to work things out 
in my head. I tried to plan for every scenario. My own 
insecurities played upon me and I may have projected. I'm afraid 
I'm not what you want or need. That first night, I had just 
passed a crossroads in my life and I finally, consciously left 
my past firmly in the past. I've been afraid that you felt sorry 
for me when I reached out to you and that it's been easier to go 
on like this than to hurt my feelings. I didn't want you to 
finally tell me that this was a mistake..."

Before she could finish speaking, he took a hold of her shoulders 
and turned her to face him. He pushed some hair back around her 
ear and then traced along her jaw line until he held her chin. 
"You are exactly what I want and what I need. And it may have 
taken seven years of trying to figure it out, but I can't be 
happier or more grateful that we got to where we are now. 
The only regrets I have are that it took me so long, and that I 
acted in a manner that could make you think that I wouldn't want 
this. Don't you think for a second that this is a mistake."

Tears involuntarily filled her eyes and a smile stretched across 
her face. He almost didn't want to kiss her but just stare at 
that smile for the rest of the evening. But he gave in.

-------------

Narrow rows of sunlight blazed through the slits between the 
blinds creating a striped pattern across the bed and his face. 
He blinked his eyes open and squinted at the daylight. He looked 
at his alarm clock as if the sunlight wasn't enough evidence to 
prove it was morning. He was startled to hear stirring behind 
him and a small groan. She was still there. He felt her warm 
arm slip under his own arm and wrap around his chest. As he 
caught her hand and pulled it up to his lips to kiss her fingers, 
he felt her kiss his shoulder blade. His eyes closed with warm 
blissful drowsiness and a smile spread across his face. Quite a 
pair indeed, he thought before drifting back into sleep.