Author: Circe Invidiosa
Spoilers: Post Requiem, references to events in En Ami, all
things, Redux II, Memento Mori, Zero Sum
Category: MSR, SA
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: I make absolutely no claims on the characters. They
are property of Fox, 1013 Productions.
Archiving: yours for the asking
Notes: Verses included in this story come from the poem As I
Walked Out One Evening by W.H. Auden



Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay
              If I could tell you, W.H. Auden




Scully was told that they wanted to keep her overnight at the
hospital. Just to be on the safe side. She told Skinner it was
ridiculous. She's a doctor for Christ's sake. She had to get
out of there. She had to begin the search. 

But Skinner had pressed her to listen to them. His concern
persuaded her. Maybe because he sounded like Mulder, and right now, she
needed to cling to anything that reminded her of him. Skinner knew
Mulder would say the same thing in his self-deprecating and
infuriating manner. Mulder would tell her he wasn't worth the
risk to herself, and now, to her child.

Skinner swore he would help her. He swore she could trust him.
And he swore to keep her pregnancy a secret. He felt a strange
mixture of honor and regret that she could confide in him. It
shouldn't be me she's telling this to, he thought, it's not fair.
He took her hand as soon as she told him of her condition. And
she squeezed his in return, fighting back the tears and emotion
that cracked her voice.


The revelation of his agents' intimacy came as a shock to
Skinner. In retrospect, he should have known. He was surprised
that he had never recognized it. The two of them had been thrown
together in an impossible situation where they learned they could
only rely on one another. Who couldn't have seen this coming?

Me, Skinner thought. He wondered if his own feelings had clouded
his judgement about them. He had a fondness for Scully that he
revealed to very few people. Mulder knew, but never spoke of it.
He wasn't sure if Mulder was jealous or grateful that someone
else cared.

And unfortunately, Skinner had revealed it to the blasted Smoking
Man, convinced he was the only one who could help her. He
thought he was protecting both Scully and Mulder by going to
Spender. But Spender had exploited Skinner's affection with
promises of saving her. He felt like an utter fool. It took
months before Skinner could look Scully in the eye again. He
wasn't even sure she knew of his duplicity. And in the end, it
was Mulder who had saved her without giving into the Spender's
threats or bribes. Even her recovery wasn't enough to sweep away
Skinner's shame.


Now, he thought, I can make it up to her. Until Mulder's
return, he vowed to himself to be there for her no matter what
his superiors said, and no matter what Krycek threatened him
with. It was the least he could do for the both of them now.


He reluctantly left her but not before he made her promise she
would stay put until the doctors okayed her release.


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

Scully felt like she was wasting time lying in her hospital bed.
It was time she could be spending searching. The doctor had
insisted she stay under observation. She felt silly. Women find
out they are pregnant all the time.


Granted, not all of them are supposed to be barren. She couldn't
even begin to imagine what had happened to allow her to conceive
at all. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Dana thought of calling her mother. I can't worry her, she
thought. She won't want me to look for Mulder. She'll be angry
I didn't tell her right away, but she'll understand, eventually.


She was restless. Daytime television offered her no distractions. 
She had already read and re-read the newspaper. Skinner had refused 
to bring her any of her case files ordering her to take it easy. She tried 
to take comfort in the fact that Skinner would begin the search for Mulder. 
But she needed a diversion to keep her thoughts away from where Mulder 
could be and what could be happening to him.


Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a passing orderly.

"Excuse me," she called to him, "Could you help me?"


He sighed, exasperated, but he obediently went to her. She
smiled politely at him. Her smile seemed to warm his
disposition. He asked her, "What can I do for you?"


She said, "I'm stuck here and I have nothing to do to preoccupy
me. Can you possibly find me something to write on, or even
something else to read?" Her hand gestured at the newspaper.


The orderly thought, is 'servant' in my job description? But
she looked so anxious, so small, and alone. He said, "I'll see
what I can do, but it might be a while. I have duties to attend
to."

She said, "I'd appreciate whatever you can do." And she smiled
at him again.


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

She had fallen asleep. She hadn't expected to, being so tense.
It was a light sleep though because she woke as soon as she
heard some movement beside her bed. The orderly had returned
finally with a pile of books. He placed them on the bedside
table. Then in his other hand he passed her a pad of paper and
a pen. "Didn't mean to wake you. Sorry it took so long. Here's
the writing material, and here's some books that were in lost and
found. Wasn't sure what you'd like so I took a bunch."

"Thanks," she replied, "So what did you bring me?"

He pulled out the books one by one, "Fiction, poems, somebody's
unauthorized life story, and magazines."

"Thanks again."

"No problem. I'd better get going. Let me know if you need
anything else." He seemed to mean it.

She picked up the paper and pen. She stared at the blank page.
She wasn't sure she was ready to do this. The last times she had
written to Mulder, it was a log of what she had seen in Africa. But 
she remembered the more passionate journal of her thoughts while she was
in the hospital fighting the cancer that ravaged her body, . He
read it without her knowing, while she sat up all night with
Penny Northern. She was never going to show it to him. She told
him she was going to throw it away. And when she had gone back
to her room, the journal was gone. She suspected Mulder had
taken it, but she never asked him about it.

Now she felt she had to write to him again. He should know what
is happening if he...when...when he comes back. He would want to
know how she was getting through this, how afraid she was, how
much she misses him, how much she needs him...

But she couldn't start. The blank page taunted her. It's too
soon, she thought, for all we know we could find him tomorrow.

She put the paper down, and looked at the books. Not much of a
selection really. She had already read the novel and she didn't
care much for subject of the biography. She finally picked up
the anthology of poetry. She opened the book and there was a
carefully arranged bookplate inside the front cover: "From the
library of Melissa Sullivan."

She was taken aback and drew a sharp breath. Dana instantly
thought of her sister. She thought of Melissa lying in a similar
hospital room. She remembered desperately holding onto Missy as
she slipped away. She hadn't been prepared for the coincidence.
It was then that she realized that these books weren't lost and
found. They belonged to owners who could no longer claim them.
She immediately wanted the books away from her. She didn't need
to think about death. Not now. Not with Mulder's whereabouts
so uncertain. It was too soon to think about that. And
especially not now when she had to think of a new life.

She calmed herself. I'm being silly, she told herself, what the
hell is wrong with me, I'm bordering on superstitious. It's only
a coincidence. Lots of people are named Melissa.

She picked up the book of poetry again with conviction as if to
prove to herself that she was strong enough. She began to flip
through it. Familiar poems and a verse here and there caught her
eye. But she settled on one poem in particular where the
narrator was eavesdropping on a declaration of undying love. The
verses were light and airy, but the words soon became sombre:

But all the clocks in the city
   Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
   You cannot conquer Time.

'In the burrows of the Nightmare
   Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
   And coughs when you would kiss.

'And in headaches and in worry
   Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
   To-morrow or to-day...

'...O plunge your hands in the water,
   Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
   And wonder what you've missed...'

Dana put the book down. She hadn't finished the poem. She began
to contemplate the meaning of the words she just read...weren't
she and Mulder always racing against Time? Wasn't Time their
biggest obstacle?

It took them seven years to even admit to themselves and each
other that there was something other than work, other than
friendship, that existed between them. They had inched so slowly
towards their relationship. But now that they were finally
there, he was gone...taken from her. They hadn't had enough
Time. They barely had even a moment that they could sort out
where they were going and what they wanted from each other. They
had been too late getting to where they were.
And now Time was mocking her because she had too much of it to
dwell on what wasn't.

She began to cry. Dana let her memories drift back to his
apartment only weeks ago. Sitting on his couch watching a
stupid movie. How long had it taken them to get to that point?
To the point where they could just sit all night together and not
have it be about some case, some stakeout, some conspiracy...how
long had it taken for it to be just about them?

She remembered their first time. They were so self-conscious.
They knew each other so well. But they hadn't expected what this
kind of intimacy would be like. It wasn't like they hadn't seen
each other naked before. It wasn't as though they hadn't
imagined it. But none of it prepared them. Seven years of pent-
up emotions and desires did that to people, she guessed. It
didn't take long for the discomfort to fade and for their passion
to take over. She remembered wondering what had taken them so
long.


She could count the weeks back to that night. And in counting
back, she deduced that it must have been that night that this
miraculous conception occurred. That day, she had just seen her
former lover Daniel for what would be the last time. How ironic
that her decision to remain in her present life with Mulder had
changed it so irrevocably.

She remembered that night that it had only been a few weeks since
her excursion with the Smoking Man. She remembered among other
things, that night Spender's words were echoing in her head as
she tried to sort out what she wanted, "You'd die for Mulder, but
you won't allow yourself to love him." She proved Spender wrong.
And they continued to prove him wrong in the following weeks.

She remembered their fear of getting caught. What did it matter?
It was no one's business, they would tell each other. But still
they pretended at work. They tried to be discreet for their own
sense of security. Nothing more than knowing glances and
lingering touches. They kept separate hotel rooms when they went
on their investigations. But she suspected everyone knew and was
whispering about them. She was even surprised to see the shock
on Skinner's face when she told him.


The memories of their affair caused Dana to weep harder at her
loss. She wiped at her tears and tried to compose herself. No,
she thought, I can't think like that, I haven't lost him yet.

What am I doing? Why am I letting a simple poem affect me so
much? She wondered, God, are the hormones kicking in already?

And as if to defy the negative thoughts, she picked up the book
again and steeled herself to read the remainder of the poem,
tears still defiantly filling her eyes.

'...O look, look in the mirror,
   O look in your distress;
Life remains a blessing
   Although you cannot bless...'

She said the words aloud, "Life remains a blessing", and as she
said them her hand caressed her abdomen.
She decided then that she couldn't write to Mulder as though he
was gone. So she chose not to write to him at all, but at the
same time she still needed to feel connected to him. She picked
up the pad of paper and pen again and began to write instead to
her child...to their child:

    "Today, I found out that you exist. I never expected you. I
    can hardly believe you are actually here. But I've wanted
    you for so long and for so many reasons.

    I want to tell every one about you. But there is only one
    person I really need to tell, and I can't, not yet. You are
    my connection to him now and for as long as I can't be with
    him.

    But more than that you are the realization of my hope and
    faith. I hope that you never doubt for a moment how much I
    need you and want you in my life..."

She looked at what she wrote. The last line could have been
written to Mulder she thought. She looked out the now darkened
window and was met with a vague reflection of herself. She looked 
small, tired, and alone.

---------

Skinner returned to the hospital. He paused waiting at the door, looking in at Scully.  

She was looking out the window again.  He wondered if she were looking for Mulder.  

He entered the room quietly.  She looked up at him and he could see she had been 

crying. He was immediately anxious for her and instantly regretted having left her. 

"Agent Scully, are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. Just something I read made me a bit emotional. Kind of silly,
I guess... Why are you back? Have you heard anything yet?"

She put the pad of paper aside before he could see what she was
writing. He thought of asking what it was to make sure she
wasn't working, but he left it alone.

"I just came back to make sure you were okay. I wanted to know
when they are going release you," he added, "We have teams
scouring the forest where he...disappeared. But there's nothing
yet. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she whispered back.

"But it's not fair," he said, shaking his head.

"No, it isn't," she said, slowly as her eyes began to fill again.

Skinner resisted an urge to wipe away the tears.

There was a heavy silence. He had no idea what to say to her.
She had no idea how to comfort him either, but offered him her
hand, which he gladly accepted. Finally, he asked her, "Is there
anything I can get you? Is there something you need?"

She sniffled and laughed a little. "Yeah, maybe I'm already
getting cravings. Could you find something for me?"

"Anything. What would you like?" he asked with eagerness. At
least he could do small things for her.

She took a deep breath, exhaled, and smiled. "Sunflower seeds."