Title: Maggie's Tips for an Unforgettable Baby Shower Authors: Kel and Scetti Summary: For a perfect baby shower, you need some interesting guests and plenty of fruit punch. And don't fret over gatecrashers -- the more, the merrier! Spoilers: Requiem Disclaimer: The snitch-bitch belongs to us, although you probably know someone just like her. Everyone you know and love belongs to Fox, 1013, etc. Keywords: MSR, H, babyfic, Mulderglasses Classification: Gentle, wholesome fic. Couple of bad words. Thanks to our betas: This story's been simmering on the back burner for so long, it's hard to remember who gave us a hand. Erin and Emma did their share of weeding out those embarrassing flubs. Val, thanks for the read, and congratulations on the black belt. You rock! Linda, you're a pearl. And Tre, all those little suggestions, etc., that happened to turn up verbatim in the story? Coincidence, babe. What do you think? Kel (ckelll@hotmail.com) and Scetti (scettixf@yahoo.com) = = = = = = = = "Good work-out?" Scully asked Mulder casually. This was the first time he'd gone to physical therapy without her. Her initial response, as his car pulled into the driveway, was to meet him outside and help him into the house, but she forced herself to wait for him in the family room. "Great work-out," he told her confidently. It was two months since his return, six weeks since his release from the hospital. It was Scully's inspiration to use the term "work-out" instead of "rehab," but these days the sessions really amounted to ordinary strength and endurance training. Today, for the first time, Mulder had gone by himself, driven the car both ways. "Go lie down," Scully suggested. "I'll bring you some iced tea." "I'm not tired," Mulder announced. "And I can get my own iced tea." He sat down next to her on the ancient leather couch. "Have it your way," she said lightly. "But I'm going to laugh like hell when you fall asleep in the middle of Jeopardy." "Watch your mouth, Scully. There's a baby in the house," Mulder said. Pre-abduction Mulder was in love with his partner who loved him back, and that was a miracle, an unexpected grace that had filled him with gratitude and wonder. Post-abduction Mulder was a daddy. He and Scully were going to get married as soon as she deemed him sufficiently recovered "to survive the honeymoon." Maybe the aliens had returned him to the wrong universe, but he wasn't planning to lodge a complaint about it. When Mulder had opened his eyes two months ago to find himself staring up at Scully from a hospital bed, he'd uttered a hoarse "hey," before sleep overtook him. Gradually he'd recovered. He was weak and wasted, but undeniably himself. As he'd regained his strength and wits, Scully had tried to fill him in, and Mulder had listened. She had talked and explained, repeating herself endlessly. Sometimes he'd nod off as she spoke to him, and sometimes she wouldn't realize he'd been asleep until he snapped awake. At the end of the first week she thought she had gotten through to him, but when he blinked awake from his latest nap, he asked her again. "Who's Patrick?" By the time Scully took him home to the saltbox style house she rented in Prince Georges County, it had begun to sink in. Patrick F. Mulder was his infant son. Mulder came home too late for colic, but in time for those early smiles. Mulder tired so quickly in those first weeks that he felt like a big baby himself, barely able to meet his own needs. He'd brush his teeth, then sit down to catch his breath. He'd get himself dressed in the morning and then have to wait a good five minutes until he felt steady enough to descend the stairs. He would have been furious with himself, only he was too exhausted. But Scully was delighted, beside herself with joy. She didn't care that Mulder wasn't helping with the feeding or changing. She'd bring him the baby, clean and fed, and listen, enchanted, as Mulder spun out nonsense stories full of funny accents and animal sounds. "You have time for a quick nap, Mulder," Scully urged him again. "The baby will be asleep for another half hour or more." "I don't want to sleep, Scully. I've missed so much already," Mulder said. "You're here now. That's what matters. And it won't do you or the baby any good to wear yourself out," Scully said practically. He didn't reply. Scully watched his face darken with regret and sorrow. She had been urging him to get some counseling, to let a professional help him sort out his experiences. Mulder said he couldn't remember anything and didn't want to, at least not yet. That was so unlike him, she thought, but she knew exactly how he felt. =Exactly.= She pulled him to her for a hug. Not a special hug, just the same hug she might have given him six years ago, when she wouldn't admit he was anything more than the cute guy she worked with. "Scully, I wouldn't have gone. I wouldn't have gone back to Oregon," he said in a monotone. "I know," she said. He had told her that before. He didn't know she was pregnant. He wouldn't have left her. "I shouldn't have gone. You're too important," he said, his head against her shoulder. "He's too important." "Mulder," she said, still holding him, "You went to save the world." "I love you more than the world. You matter more," Mulder said. She didn't dispute the point. For years Mulder had carried the burden of standing alone and fighting a threat that others dismissed as his lunacy. At last he had succeeded in revealing the threat. He deserved this peace. Mulder gave her a squeeze, then broke the hug and the somber mood with a big, goofy grin. "I missed seeing you in those cute maternity clothes," he said. "You never sent me out at midnight for pickles and ice cream." Scully switched gears right along with him. "Mulder, just because I was pregnant doesn't mean I turned into some cliché from a sitcom. But . . . here is an exciting bulletin from the newsroom." She used her hands to frame her face, suggesting a television screen. "Mom is on the way." Mulder smiled. Scully's silly side was still a novelty to him. "Scully, I'm crazy about your mother," he said. "You're the one who gets nervous whenever she comes over." "Maybe because the two of you are constantly conspiring to embarrass me," Scully laughed. "Who knows what she'll bring this time? Maybe pictures of my sixth grade graduation or my ŒMost Improved' trophy from ballet camp." "Ballet camp? Scully, you never told me about ballet camp," Mulder said. "How old were you?" "Don't go there, Mulder," Scully grumbled. "Are we talking tutus? Were you a swan?" Mulder persisted. They were interrupted by Maggie's tap at the front door. She never used the bell because she was sure it would wake the baby. Scully gave Mulder a look that meant "stay," and she hurried to answer the door. "Don't get up," Maggie told Mulder when Scully ushered her into the family room. "You're looking well, so much better." "Thanks," said Mulder, accepting her embrace. "What did you bring me?" She was laden with packages, so it wasn't an idle question. She handed him a shopping bag. "You'll have to share, though," she said. "And don't put it in your mouth." "Cool. Thomas the Tank Engine." Mulder opened the box and pulled out some lengths of track and Thomas himself. Scully went to bring in some refreshments as Maggie settled next to Mulder on the sofa. "I brought some pictures of Dana when she was expecting," Maggie told him. "From the baby shower." "Dana had a baby shower?" Mulder asked. "Really?" "Well, why not?" Maggie countered. Maggie had considered carefully before throwing the shower. Her daughter was hardly the type for something as frivolous and traditional as a baby shower, and furthermore, she was unmarried and all but overwhelmed by Mulder's disappearance. But Maggie had decided to go ahead with it. "It just seems soŠ girly," Mulder said. He gave Thomas a little push to see how he would roll on the wooden track. "She is a girl," Maggie said. "Yeah," said Mulder, hiding a self-conscious grin. "I finally figured that out." Scully returned with a pitcher of iced tea and some fruit and cheese. "Fox wants to see the pictures from the shower," Maggie said. "OhŠ" Scully looked uneasy. "Mom, I never told him about the shower." "Secrets can undermine a relationship," Mulder said teasingly. Scully's claim that Mulder delighted in her embarrassment was not far off the mark. He did enjoy exploring the side of her he only saw when Maggie was around. "It's not a secret!" Scully knew she was being manipulated but she couldn't keep from playing into it. "I have ways of making you talk," Mulder said huskily, and Scully turned scarlet. "There's not that much to tell," she blurted, trying to maintain her composure. "One day Skinner forced me into his car, drove me to a cottage in the country, shoved me through the door, and ordered me to have fun." Maggie laughed. "You should have seen her. When we yelled, "Surprise!" she burst into the room with her gun drawn," she said. "It's not generally a good idea to try to ambush an FBI agent," Mulder commented. "It was a beautiful cottage," Scully told him. "A gorgeous garden in back, with a little brook through it. She couldn't have found a more perfect setting." She set the tray of snacks on the coffee table. "Except for one thing," said Maggie. "You couldn't have known about that," Scully assured her. "Look, ladies, forget the story, I want to see the pictures," Mulder said, settling back in the couch. "Just show him a picture of me," Scully said. "He wants to see how I looked as a blimp." "Oh, here's the cute one‹" "Mom! Not the one with the hat," Scully said. "I want to see the one with the hat," Mulder chanted. "Here!" Scully pulled a picture from the pile and handed it to him. "That's me wearing a tent, okay?" Mulder took the picture and studied it. He whistled in awe. "Wow, you were big," he said. "Fox," Maggie said reproachfully. She had expected him to show some sensitivity about this unflattering photo. Dana's pregnancy had been almost undetectable until the fifth month. By the time of the baby shower, however, the poor girl had the neck of a heifer and elephant ankles. "You were huge," he repeated. "I mean, you were still beautiful, but you were really big. Look, even your face. And your fingers‹like sausages." "This is how he gets when he won't take his nap," Scully explained to her mother, seating herself in the boston rocker near the couch. "Whoa, who is that?" Mulder asked. He whistled again. "Fox, maybe a nap is a good idea," said Maggie. "Who's that woman next to you?" Mulder asked. "Those can't be real." "She's a friend of yours, Mulder. Don't you recognize her?" Scully needled him. "I think I'd remember," Mulder said. Scully snickered. Maggie tried to restrain herself, but it was impossible. "What's so funny?" Mulder asked defensively, looking from one to the other. "I think I'd better start at the beginning," Maggie said. "Once I decided to have the shower, I called Mr. Skinner to see if he could help." Mulder looked at Scully with real sympathy. "Yes, she did," Scully confirmed. "He gave me a stack of cards from your Rolodex," Maggie said. "He was only supposed to give me cards from friends, but he didn't do very a good job." "Skinner raided my Rolodex?" Mulder asked. "He violated my Rolodex?" "Our Rolodex," said Scully. "Of course, that was the problem," said Maggie. "I really didn't know who I was calling. And so many of your friends have passed on." "Skinner just handed over our sources?" Mulder asked again. "Some of those people had no idea who you were. Bambi Berenbaum? She didn't remember either one of you." Scully threw Mulder a satisfied smirk. "I guess we're just lucky she didn't invite Marita," Mulder said. "Wait, it gets better," said Scully. "When my mom plays hostess, well, you just don't know what to expect." "Now hold on!" Maggie protested. "You seemed very happy to see Ellen and Amina." "I was," Scully agreed. She turned to Mulder. "Ellen is my friend from way back. And Amina is a professor of biology I met in Africa. She was in the States for the summer, working with someone at the Smithsonian." "You know, Scully, I've never met any of your friends. Oh, except years ago, when I met Kathy at her cello recital," Mulder said. "I tried to invite Kathy," Maggie explained. Mulder shook his head. "I think she was a little peeved at us. She thought we'd ruined her concert," he said. "She definitely had an attitude," Maggie said. "Told me she didn't have a thing to wear Œin Kevlar.'" "Long story short," Scully said, "after Mom discovered I only had two friends in the world, and one of them from another continent, mind you, she began to invite random people." Scully poured out three glasses of iced tea. "Dana! That's not how it was," Maggie protested. "Yup," Dana reaffirmed. "She invited Colleen Azar. Do you remember her, Mulder? She was your crop circle expert." "My crop circle expert, huh? As I remember it, she had some other expert opinions," Mulder said. "She did," Scully agreed with a nod. "I suppose it was fitting that she came to the shower. She brought her lover, Carol, which made Mom very happy because she was desperate for warm bodies. She was starting to invite her own friends by this time." "You're exaggerating," Maggie said. "The real reason I invited Maureen was so that she'd let us use that beautiful cottage in the country. Besides, she's not just any friend, she's practically family." "That explains Maureen. Now tell him about Cherry," Scully said. "Dana, you make me sound like an idiot. Do you think it's completely impossible that you'd have a friend named Cherry Tart?" Maggie asked. "Cherry Tart? That sounds familiar," said Mulder. He cut a chunk off the wedge of Gouda. "Mother, even if by some cruel twist of fate I did have a friend named Cherry Tart, why in the world would this friend have a one-nine-hundred number?" Scully asked. She passed her mother a glass of tea. Mulder was suddenly very quiet. That nap was starting to sound like a good idea. "I think she added a lot to the party," Maggie said bravely, trying to convince herself as well as her daughter. "A lot of personality and spirit." "I agree. I'm glad she was there." Scully stared at Mulder until he started to squirm. "Scully, you talked to her?" Mulder asked nervously. "What did you talk about?" "Don't worry about it, dear," Maggie tried to reassure him. "She spoke in the most general terms." "About what?" Mulder asked quietly. "Oh, just her observations. About men," Maggie said. "Men in general," Scully said. She leaned closer so he would hear her. "Relax, she didn't remember which one you were." "It was funny, because Cherry really hit it off with my friend Maureen," Maggie said. "It turned out they had a lot in common." "Yes, they both thought men were scum," Scully observed wryly. "Okay, now I know the cast," said Mulder. "I want to see the pictures." Maggie looked at him apologetically, but she continued to clutch the photos. "There was one additional player," she said. "Dana, let me tell this my own way." "Go ahead," Scully told her. "I'm curious myself." "Fox, I've explained that Maureen is a dear old friend, and that she owns that beautiful little cottage," Maggie said. "She also has a daughter, Jean. She and Dana practically grew up together." "I think she was the first person I ever hated," Scully mused. "Nonsense. They were inseparable," Maggie said flatly. "Especially after you and Maureen decided we had to go to the same summer camp," Scully said. "I thought you'd enjoy dance lessons," Maggie said. "It was a way for you to build up your skinny little legs. And you were so cute in that ruffly pink tutu." "Jean's always been perfect," Scully said. "Her clothes were spotless. She never broke curfew." "She didn't ride home from the prom on a fire truck," Maggie said. "She had a nickname in high school," Scully said. "The snitch-bitch." She pantomimed a telephone and mimicked: "Mrs. Scully, was Dana home sick today? We had a very important test today in English class. And Dana wasn't there." She took a sip of her tea. "So you invited Dana's dear old friend Jean," Mulder concluded. "No, I didn't invite her. But when we got to the cottage, to set up the party and wait for Dana, we discovered that Jean was staying there. It seemed she was trying to get away for a while, and she didn't tell her mother she was using the cottage," Maggie said. "Get away for a while. That's one way to put if," Scully said, exchanging glances with her mother. "Got it," said Mulder. "When everyone assembled for their afternoon of female bonding and male-bashing, the snitch-bitch was there to join in." "That's not quite fair. Colleen said that men were fine, just as good as women. They said that any kind of love was worthwhile and ennobling, even the love of a woman for a man," Maggie noted. "Amina noted that the violent, aggressive tendencies of young men often mellowed into something approaching tolerance and wisdom in the later years," Scully added. "And Carol said that males could be beautiful and should be appreciated in their own way, for what they were." "Then Ellen said you couldn't make babies without them," Maggie remembered. "And that some babies were male." "It got a little ugly," Scully said. "I felt I had to say something." "Dana made a speech," Maggie explained. "She said it was unfair to condemn all men when some of them were selfless and dedicated." "Thank you, Scully. On behalf of the men of earth," Mulder said with a little nod. "Your friend Cherry reiterated that men were all alike, interested in one thing only," Scully said. "She was quite emphatic. And old Maureen backed her up. Loudly." "Dana tried to shout them down. Mr. Skinner came in to investigate," Maggie said. Again Mulder gave Scully a look of pure compassion. "Wait," said Scully. "We still haven't explained about Jean." "Or the punch," said Maggie. "It seems that someone spiked the punch." "Cherry spiked the punch. I'm sure of it," said Scully. "Everyone was quite nicely pickled by the time Skinner forced me through the door." "Dana, you were so late getting to the party! We had nothing to do but sit there, stare at each other, and sip fruit punch," Maggie explained. "Mom, you must have known that it was alcoholic," Scully said. "Couldn't you taste it?" Maggie shrugged. "It tasted perfectly normal to me," she said. "Amina didn't care for it, but the rest of us were enjoying it." "And Perfect Jean? Was she drunk too?" Mulder asked. "Jean kept to herself," Maggie said. "Maureen and I came early, to set up, and there was Jean, working in the living room. She had printouts piled everywhere, and a long cord running across the room, because the only phone jack is in the kitchen." "I'm sure you and Maureen observed how studious she was, working so hard even on vacation," Scully said cattily. "No, Maureen seemed shocked. Apparently Jean hadn't been keeping in touch," Maggie explained. "I wish I could have seen Jean's face when you told her I was pregnant," Scully said. "You would have been disappointed. She congratulated me and said she was sure that you'd be a wonderful mother," Maggie said. "I bet she said you looked too young to be a grandmother. And she probably adored your dress," Scully predicted. "She's always had lovely manners," Maggie agreed. "Once we explained that we were throwing a party, she said she was so sorry, but she had work to do, and she moved all her stuff into the bedroom." "It would have been fine if she would have just stayed in there," Scully sighed. "But of course she didn't." Scully stood and began to pace the living room restlessly. "I thought she kept to herself," Mulder said. "Oh, she did, for the most part," said Scully. "But first she came out and told me I looked fabulous. That other women looked so matronly with jowls, but somehow it suited me." "I really don't think she put it that way," Maggie said. "And when you snap at her, Dana, you only make yourself seem ungracious." "You wouldn't want to seem ungracious," Mulder remonstrated. "You are a trouble-maker, aren't you?" Maggie asked him affectionately. "She wanted my computer!" Scully exclaimed, spreading her hands wide. "She was having trouble with her Compaq, she asked if she could borrow my laptop!" "You brought the laptop to your baby shower?" Mulder asked. "Skinner told me we were going to a conference," Scully said. "I had all my data in there, and I was trying to draft an outline in the car." "You would have thought she had the lost gospel of Saint Peter, the way she was guarding that thing," said Maggie. "Mom! I had sensitive material," Scully whined. "And you made me give her my laptop!" "Dana, there was no reason not to let her use it. She was just in the next room." "I felt like I was back in kindergarten," Scully said. "I had to share my best toy." "Did the AD help you defend the honor of the Y chromosome?" Mulder asked, and Maggie laughed. "Judge for yourself," Scully said, shuffling through the snapshots until she found the ones she was after. "Holy shit," said Mulder. "I meanŠ gosh." A graphic series: the AD sitting close to a full-breasted woman with platinum hair, learning toward her so that his ear was by her mouth; then a shot of the notorious Cherry Tart perched on Skinner's knee; and finally one where Cherry had her arm around his neck, holding a glass of punch to his lips. "They became quite friendly," Maggie said dryly. "Skinner was a hit with all the ladies," Scully said. "Ellen and Amina fell over each other refilling his glass." "These pictures are priceless," said Mulder. "We'll have to order more prints." "He's awake," Scully said suddenly, smiling broadly. "Are you sure? He's not crying," Mulder said. "Can't you hear him?" she asked. "He's babbling to himself." "I'll get him," Mulder said. Scully leaned over and gave him a kiss, then glanced over at her mother shyly. Maggie smiled; she knew Dana was funny about things like that. "Just rest, I'll bring him to you," said Scully, and Maggie followed her out of the room. Mulder stretched, crossed his legs, and leaned back against the couch. Yet again he was struck by the unexpected turn his life had taken. At home with Scully and their baby. Sooner or later it would sink in, but so far it still seemed like an impossible dream. His reverie was broken by the ring of the telephone, and Mulder couldn't help smirking when he recognized the voice of Skinner. "Checking in on you," Skinner said. "I've extended your leave and Scully's, so just let me know when you're ready to come back to work." "Good," said Mulder. "We're both totally incapacitated." "Enjoying yourselves, are you?" Skinner asked. "I'm a lucky man," Mulder said very seriously. And then, more lightly: "I see you were busy while I was gone." "What are you talking about?" asked Skinner. Over the years Skinner's relationship with Mulder and Scully had evolved significantly. Scully and Skinner sometimes spoke in ways that revealed an element of loyalty, even devotion. The bond between Mulder and Skinner was equally strong, but their conversation rarely reflected it. "Scully's baby shower. Maggie showed me the pictures," Mulder said. Mulder thought he could hear a gulp. "Mulder, I want you to understand that everything was handled discreetly," Skinner said at last. "I filed a complete explanation on Scully's behalf, and Maggie was never charged. They were both issued official apologies, as were the rest of the guests. In fact, your friends from that conspiracy paper turned down a very lucrative contract." Mulder blinked in surprise. Obviously Scully and her mother had omitted some important details when they told him about the baby shower. The role of the Lone Gunmen, for example. "I suppose you think that covers everything," Mulder said, hoping that Skinner's response would tell him more. "Believe me, Mulder, I hold myself responsible for what occurred," Skinner said. "I don't know what else to tell you." "I'd like to hear your version of what occurred," Mulder said, trying to hide his curiosity. Another pause, and then Skinner called his bluff. "I'm sure Scully can fill you in," Skinner said evenly. "I'd prefer to hear if from you," Mulder said. "I doubt if that would be Scully's preference," Skinner said. "Take it up with her." "Sir‹" "You're sounding well, Mulder. Good day." The dial tone sounded and Mulder clicked the telephone off. Maggie Scully returned to the room. "Tara sent some of Matthew's outgrown outfits for Patrick," she said, reaching for one of her shopping bags. "I think these will fit him now." "Hand-me-downs? For my son?" Mulder asked. Maggie smiled. "Look at this," she said. "Great condition, and top brands." She pulled out some clothing for his inspection. "Nike, Gap, ChampionŠ Okay, he can wear these around the house," Mulder conceded. "At least until you get a chance to take him to Brooks Brothers," Maggie said. She replaced the items and picked up the bag. "Wait, Maggie, I want to ask you something," Mulder said. She looked at him inquiringly. "What really happened at the shower?" he asked. "What really happened?" she echoed, as if to clarify the question. "Besides the traditional events, and the surprise appearance by Perfect Jean, and the spiked punch. What else happened?" he asked. "What makes you think there was something more?" Her face went blank and she was totally still. She looked a lot like Scully. "Well, how come the Lone Gunmen were there?" he asked in frustration. "The Lone Gunmen?" Again the innocent stare. "Oh, your friends from the security company. TheyŠ justŠ showed up." She picked up a white stretchy with a giraffe appliqué and began to study the washing instructions on the tag. "They just showed up? They crashed the baby shower?" Mulder asked, looking into her eyes. "TheyŠ" Maggie seemed to run out of guile. Only the basest and most misbegotten could lie when Mulder captured their conscience with his intense stare. "All right," Maggie replied sharply. She sat down on the striped chair by the potted ficus tree, and Mulder knew she was about to unburden herself. "You know about Jean," she began. "The snitch-bitch. Yes," said Mulder. Maggie grimaced, because she hated the "b" word, but she continued: "Jean was using Dana's laptop." "Yes. She borrowed the laptop and took it in another room," Mulder reiterated. "I don't quite understand what she was doing with it," Maggie continued. "Some kind of Œhacking' thing." She enunciated the word as if it was the clinical term for some practice she didn't care to imagine. "I guess she couldn't make it work on her own computer so she tried again with Dana's." "Okay," Mulder said, nodding his encouragement. Most people felt better after they told him the truth. Decent people, anyway. "This is how Ringo explained it to me," Maggie said. It took Mulder a moment to recognize Langly's first name. "Some companies hire specialists to protect them from computer "hackers". So when Jean broke into the system, Ringo and his friends could see it happening." "The boys caught her in the act," he summarized. The Gunmen had never mentioned their sideline, but computer security was right up their alley. "Yes. But they could see that it was Dana's laptop, and that confused them," Maggie said. Mulder nodded again. "Because of her IP Address," he said. "They traced her to the cottage easily enough, from the phone line. They came charging through the door," Maggie said. "Melvin raced over to Dana as if he was going to defend her from the others. He was talking about stress and hormonal changes and not being responsible. Then he said that the hat was the final proof‹no one in their right mind would wear a hat like that." "I want to know about this hat," Mulder said. He wondered if Scully's African friend had brought her some kind of symbolic headdress, or maybe old Maureen had gifted her with a tasteful little pillbox. "It wasn't a hat, of course, it was a paper plate," Maggie said matter-of-factly. "Scully‹Dana‹was wearing a paper plate on her head?" Mulder asked. "Is that some kind of Irish custom?" "You've never seen that?" Maggie asked. "You take the bows and ribbons from the gifts and you tape them onto a plate. Then the guest of honor has to wear it as a hat. Dana was trying to be a good sport about it, but when her friends burst in she tore it off." "Embarrassed, huh?" Mulder thought Scully was practically irresistible when she got that silly, self-conscious expression, but in this case he was overwhelmed with sympathy. "Not as embarrassed as Mr. Skinner," Maggie said. "He still had a lap full of Cherry Tart. Ringo and John were embarrassed too, because Ellen got the idea that I'd hired them as male strippers, and she was criticizing my taste." Mulder would have had more questions, but they fled from his mind when Scully came in carrying Patrick. For Scully, there had been a period of months to adjust, to understand. For Mulder, there had been only days. In one moment he didn't know the baby existed. The next moment he was awash with love for him. Intense love, but also fear and doubt. He felt inadequate to protect this helpless innocent whom he loved more than life, more than himself. "Do you want to go to Daddy, Sweet Potato?" Scully asked. Patrick was willing, and Daddy was already reaching for him. "Hey, Rick! Hey, you big guy! Did you sleep good? Did you have a good nap?" Mulder had a real talent for entertaining babies and Patrick was fascinated. "A-ba-ba-ba-ba," he said. "Scully! He said it! He said Dada! Come on, Rick, say it again!" The baby giggled and a line of drool began to fall from his mouth. Scully smiled. "You heard it this time, didn't you?" Mulder implored her. "Yes, Mulder, I heard it," Scully assured him, wiping her thumb across Patrick's lips, whisking the drool away to some secret motherly place. Mulder glowed. "That's one of Matthew's, isn't it?" Maggie asked. Patrick was dressed in a yellow stretchy with a big "34" on the back. "Rick!" Mulder crooned. "Why aren't you wearing your Knicks jersey?" Scully answered for him in a Tweety-Bird type voice. "I got stinky poo-poo on my Knicks jersey, Daddy. Does Daddy want to wash the stinky laundry?" "You did? You got stinky poo-poo on your Knicks jersey?" Mulder asked. The baby was losing interest, Maggie noted, trying to keep from rolling her eyes. That proved how intelligent he was. "He's hungry, Mulder," Scully said. "Why don't you try to give him a bottle?" "He never wants it," Mulder sighed. "He's a confirmed tit-man." Scully shot a glance at her mother, who showed no visible reaction. She took the baby back from Mulder, and Patrick wasted no time in finding his target. "No more trouble with cracked nipples?" Maggie asked, and now Mulder was embarrassed. "No, but I'm still leaking like a cow," Scully said. She had opted for breastfeeding for all the medical and scientific reasons, but once she'd overcome some early discomfort, she found it satisfying and convenient. Patrick enjoyed it too. He gazed up at his mother and patted her breast with his chubby hand as he sucked. Mulder was gaining a whole new appreciation for breasts. He admired the utilitarian ease with which they satisfied an infant, and once he got over his surprise, he liked the way they could dribble or even squirt, often at very inopportune times. "That's a beautiful sight," Maggie said. "Yes, it is," Mulder agreed. He liked to watch, and Maggie could watch, too, if she wanted. It drove Mulder nuts, though, when Scully would nurse the baby in front of Skinner or the Gunmen. "It's normal and natural," Scully had said when he voiced his discomfort. All logic and no common sense, Mulder thought. "So is jerking off," he'd retorted. "Feel free," she had told him. Scully started using a baby blanket as a shawl when she'd breastfeed with company around, but that was her only concession. Patrick drank his fill and then began to amuse himself by making noises against his mother's breast, smacking his lips and growling, then gazing in her eyes and giggling. "Such a silly boy," Scully cooed at him. She repositioned him and rearranged her clothing in a smooth, practiced motion. "My silly Sweet Potato." Mulder had been looking forward to playing with his son, maybe getting down on the floor to introduce him to Thomas the Tank Engine. But it wasn't a good idea. He'd come home from physical therapy feeling loose and strong, but he was losing the high and now he could feel his fatigue. If he got down on the floor, he knew he'd need Scully's help to get up, and that was unappealing at the moment. He found a different toy in a corner of the couch, a little rubber basketball. "Rick! B-ball!" Patrick took the toy and began to gum it. Scully placed the baby in Mulder's lap and arose from the couch. Maggie reflected on the evolution of the ideal of fatherhood, since the time her children had been small. Her husband had embraced his role as an educator and role model, but he'd never communed with a child in this fashion. "Mom." Dana wasn't exactly whispering, but she was hoping to get Maggie's attention without distracting Mulder. "Where are those photos?" she asked. Maggie gave her the packet, and Dana sorted through them hurriedly, handing back about half of them. "Take these home, okay? Or just get rid of them," she said. "Dana, I told him," Maggie said quietly as she accepted the pictures. Dana gave a little shrug. "It's okay. I was going to tell him eventually," she said. "Sh!" Mulder whispered to the baby as he bounced him on his lap. "Mama and Grandma are telling secrets." Dana started examining and re-folding the hand-me-downs from her nephew. "These are like new," she told Maggie. "They grow so fast at this age, they don't have time to wear things out." "Ricky wants to see the pictures," Mulder announced. "Ricky wants to see Mommy's funny hat. And Uncle Frohike's strip-tease." "Is that what you told Daddy?" Scully cooed at the baby. "Did you tell him that?" Scully moved back to the couch and wiped Patrick's drooly chin with a cloth diaper. "You two will have to be careful when you go back to work," Maggie commented. "I can just imagine an interrogation with one of you asking the Unabomber if he'd been a bad boy." "Uncle Ted was a bad boy," Mulder intoned. "A very, very bad boy," Scully agreed. "Oh, brother," said Maggie Patrick flung his little basketball to the floor. "A-ba-ba-ba," he complained. Mulder brought the baby up against his chest and patted his back soothingly. "Did you hear that?" Mulder asked. "He said Œball.'" Once she'd resigned herself to letting Mulder see the snapshots from her shower, Scully felt it best to supervise the viewing so that she could provide suitable narration. She plopped next to him on the couch and oriented the stack of pictures so that he could see them. "Here's me with the hat," she said with good-natured pique. "Happy now?" Mulder remembered something about farmers using straw hats to protect plow horses from the sun, but he wisely refrained from mentioning it. "This is Amina, my friend from Africa," she said. "She's the one who gave us the fennel tea and the bone china teapot." She was a striking woman, Mulder thought, but he did not say so. "This is the snitch-bitch," Scully said, and Maggie grimaced again. Jean's smooth blond hair was brushed back, and she wore a navy blue jacket and knee-length skirt. "I would have guessed," said Mulder. "Me and Ellen," Scully said, moving the snitch-bitch to the bottom of the pile to reveal the next shot. Mulder looked at her without speaking, letting his face ask the question. "She was a tiny bit smashed, remember," Scully explained. "She was going to show me how to use the breast pump. And here's where I got revenge on Mom for all the pictures she took. Here she is with her friend Maureen." "What is Grandma doing? Look at your grandma, Rick!" He lowered the baby from his shoulder back onto his lap. "That's the frug," Maggie laughed. "Dance talent runs in the family." "Ah, this must be crop-circle Colleen, and I would guess that to be the Significant Other," Mulder ventured. "Yup," said Scully. "And they brought a wonderful rutabaga-ginger chutney. I got the recipe from them." "I knew I had something to live for," Mulder muttered. "Might as well give me the rest of the pictures," Scully told her mother. Maggie looked surprised but brought out the second pile of photos. "I thought it was pretty gutsy how Mom kept that camera snapping after the Marshals stormed in," Scully said. "I was terrified," Maggie admitted. "I thought they were going to kill you." "They should have identified themselves," Scully said somberly. "And Skinner should have been watching my back." "Jesus Christ," Mulder exclaimed. "What the hell happened?" "Fox," said Maggie reproachfully, looking at the baby. Patrick had not understood the words but the tone must have gotten through to him, and the corners of his little mouth drew down as he decided whether or not to cry. "Sh, it's okay," Mulder said. "Mommy's going to tell Daddy all about it, and show him the pictures." "I thought you told him, Mom." Scully said. "I did," said Maggie. "But I guess I didn't mention the U.S. Marshals." "If it's just too painful for you to recall I can go over to the lone gunmen and put a choke-hold on Frohike. Or drop in on Skinner and beat it out of him," Mulder said. Patrick continued to look pensive. Mulder passed him to Scully and rose to his feet. Maggie couldn't read Mulder's mood. Perhaps this was just part of the normal give-and-take of the working partnership, or else Mulder was growing genuinely exasperated as he worked to cut through the obfuscation. "Would you like me to take the baby out for a walk?" Maggie offered. "It's okay, Mom. Mulder's just going to pace around for a while and look sullen," Scully said, moving the pictures away from Patrick's grasping hand. "And when your daughter has had her fill of being smug and enigmatic, she's going to tell me what happened," Mulder said "Oh, get over it," Scully said. "It's a funny story, really, isn't it, Mom? Sit down, Mulder, you'll laugh." "Ha ha," Mulder deadpanned. "Give me the pictures." Scully allowed him to take the photos, and he sat down again. She said nothing as he studied them one by one. When he'd examined the whole series, he mystified Maggie by reaching back to poke around in the crevices of the couch. Mulder found his glasses and wiped the lenses on his shirt before putting them on. Then he perused the stack of pictures a second time, regrouping them as he went. At last he spoke: "I would have figured Frohike for boxer shorts." "Ah! A-ba-ba-ba-!" squealed Patrick, reaching for the glasses. Patrick loved Daddy's reading glasses as much as he loved Mommy's earrings. Mulder stuck his glasses back into the couch, and Scully distracted the baby with some entertaining buzzing sounds. "Boxer shorts, that's exactly what Ellen said," Maggie remembered. "Then she stuffed five dollars in his briefs." "Just a tiny bit smashed," Mulder quoted back to Scully. "Auntie Ellen was afraid Uncle Frohike would get naked. And Auntie Ellen didn't want him to do that," Scully explained, mugging for the baby. "So she paid him." "What a silly boy!" Mulder said. "Why did he do that? Why did Uncle Frohike want to show off his hairy ass?" Patrick was highly entertained, unlike his grandmother, who stifled a groan. "When Ringo realized that Dana was not trying to hack into Valuation Technology Corp, and that he and his friends had crashed her baby shower, he just wanted to get away," Maggie explained. "But then Ellen asked if they were the strippers. And Ringo said something about stripping Byers naked‹" "Which he attributed to you," Scully told Mulder. "John refused emphatically, but Melvin decided it would be a good way to put some life in the party," Maggie finished. "Cherry Tart was cheering him on," Scully said. "And Maureen kind of staggered over to Skinner and said, ŒHow about you, big guy?'" "Scully, did you drink any of that punch?" Mulder asked very seriously. He doubted if mere alcohol could explain why Skinner would agree to disrobe. And the photo of the AD in handcuffs, bare-chested and belt unbuckled, indicated that he had. "Not a drop," said Scully. Relieved, Mulder reverted to his suitable-for-babies style: "Uncle Walter didn't have his shirt on when the Marshals came to visit." "Uncle Walter was swinging his shirt around over his head and doing something funny with his hips when the Marshals came to visit," Maggie said, succumbing to the baby talk. "The Marshals were very frightened of Uncle Walter, and they made him wear pretty bracelets when they took him away," Scully said. "And they took Mommy's gun and Uncle Walter's, and they said everybody had to get into their big, black cars." "I was furious," Maggie said in her normal voice. "They just broke in, shouting and threatening us. It's frightening to think of armed agents running wild like that, going wherever they please, with no regard for the Constitution." "Bunch of cowboys," Mulder agreed. "They were outrageously abusive," Scully said, keeping her tone neutral for the baby's sake. "They were trying to intimidate us with stories about prison. Asked if any of us wanted to spend ten-to-twenty with a dyke for a roommate." "That must have had the crop-circle girls shaking in their sensible shoes," Mulder said, breaking into a grin. "No, but their lawyer found if quite significant," Scully said. "Those Œcowboys' were looking for Jean. They said she was a fugitive!" Maggie still found that notion shocking. "And she would have escaped, except Dana reminded the Marshals to check the bedroom." "You snitched on the bitch?" Mulder asked. "That's going to be his first word," Maggie said resignedly. "Mommy told the pig posse where the bad lady was hiding," Mulder explained to Patrick. Scully continued with the story: "After the Cowboys took us for a ride in their big black cars, they said =oops!=" Patrick squealed with delight, and Scully broke her narrative to "oops!" for him again. "They said ŒOops!'" Scully hammed it up for the baby. "You are free to go. Oops!" "And you went wee, wee, wee, wee, all the way home," Mulder picked up the thread of the story. "But firstŠ" Scully paused for effect. "They told Auntie Jean, ŒTag! You're it!' And they took the key and locked her up." "Because Auntie Jean was very, very naughty. But everyone else lived happily ever after," Maggie sing-songed. "And Grandma and Uncle Ringo became the very best of friends," Scully said. "Every Wednesday afternoon they play bridge together. But sometimes they get cranky and they squabble." She pursed her lips into an exaggerated pout. "But Mommy was the luckiest of all," Maggie continued unperturbed. "Because Mommy had a very special meeting with a very special person. The Attorney General!" "Yes I did! Oh yes I did!" Scully declared, raising Patrick up, and shaking her head into his belly. "Scully?" Mulder inquired. "Yes. Skinner and the marshals and me. And we all had to attend a week-long workshop about cooperation," she explained in normal tones. "But the Marshals had to spend another week learning about sensitivity to women, minorities, and the Ivory Coast." "Goodness," said Maggie. "What about the Bill of Rights?" Mulder gave her a blank look. "Never heard of it," said Scully. "You two are very amusing," she said, "but I believe it's time for me to get going." She picked up her purse. "Grandma's going to hit rush hour," Mulder warned her in his Patrick voice. "I'll take local roads," Maggie said in her own voice. The joke was growing thin. "Thanks for the clothes, Mom. I'll give Tara a call and thank her too," Scully said. "No more Lakers shirts! Or I'll cry," said Mulder. "But, Daddy, the Lakers are the NBA champions! And the Knicks get so many boo-boos." Scully whined. "No! Me hate Lakers," Mulder protested, thumping his chest with a fist. Patrick giggled happily at his parents' antics. "Bye-bye, Patrick. Take care of your silly mommy and daddy." Maggie shook his little hand and gave him a kiss. "Grandma not stay for dinner?" Scully asked. "Grandma drive car in big, big traffic," Mulder warned again. "Good-bye, Patrick Before Grandma have to toss her cookies." Maggie smiled at the scene of domestic bliss, but it was time to leave. She knew the way out, and as she headed the door, she could hear her daughter, the gifted medical doctor who had chosen a career in law enforcement: "Is Grandma going to hurl? Is your grandma going to hurl?" And the reply of Dana's partner, by reputation a dour loner with a past full of mystery and sorrow: "Like this, Rick! Grandma barf like this! Blaaaah! Gaaach!" Maggie opened the door to the sound of Patrick's response. "A-ba-ba-ba-ba!" "He likes it, Mulder! Do it again." "Blaaah! Gaaach!" Patrick giggled. Maggie closed the door firmly behind her. ### Patrick Mulder--do you like the name? We weren't sure, but we had to pick something. Of course, if the baby's a girl, Patrick won't do at all. What do you think? Kel (ckelll@hotmail.com) and Scetti (scettixf@yahoo.com)