*Waxing Moon by bugs*

    RATING: PG
    SPOILERS: Up to the end of season 8
    CLASSIFICATION: S, A, MSRelastionship, D/R UST
    SUMMARY: Doggett and Reyes pay a call on the new parents.
    ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Ambress and Branwell were their usual helpful
    selves. Thanks, ladies.
    AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a story in the Mushroom Emulation
    series, capturing the process of Doggett and Reyes getting to 
    know Mulder and Scully and their new assignment with the X-files.

    *****

    Kersh follows to the outer office, just so he can slam the door
    behind us.

    John and I stand in the hall, unanchored, our heads swiveling to
    and fro. He asks, "What'd you do that for, Monica?"

    I head towards the elevator. "What'd you mean?"

    "You don't want to get into this. I haven't been on this detail
    long, but I can tell you that much."

    I stop, glancing back at him. "I don't need you looking out for
    me. I meant what I said in there."

    He doesn't reply, but tries to stare me down. He fails. "Fine, for
    now. Let's go down to the office, and I'll show you around."

    I've won, but a greater urge calls. "I'll be with you in a minute.
    I need a cigarette."

    "No, you don't."

    "Yes, I do, John."

    He stands with one hand resting on his weapon, cocking his head to
    the side like a bird sizing up a grub.

    It's a familiar stance. I remember pushing a hand under his suit
    jacket and smoothing a palm up his ribcage, polishing it with his
    fine cotton shirt. Leaning close enough to rest my cheek against
    his ear, and breathing in his day's sweat. I shake that memory
    away. Any chance of following through on that moment disappeared
    when I volunteered for this new assignment.

    Changing the subject, he says, "Let's pay a call, as my Momma
    would say."

    "Excuse me?"

    "The new mother."

    I start to protest, but I'm curious to see how things are going.
    "Is she out of the hospital?"

    "Yep. Today. She and the baby."

    "Have you called?"

    "She called me. To see what Kersh had to say. It was before our
    meeting."

    "Our reaming, you mean." We start back to the elevators.

    "Better get used to it, Agent Reyes," he mocks me, "Or buy a donut
    pillow."

     

    He drives. I say, "Stop here," as we pass The Shops at Georgetown
    Park.

    He reacts like I'm pointing out a gunman. "What!?"

    "Are we going to get something?"

    "You can't have a cigarette yet."

    "No, John." I roll my eyes. "It's customary to bring a gift."

    "Oh, shit, right."

     

    Wandering down the aisle, overcome with the helplessness that
    shopping always evokes, I repress the urge to scream. And John's
    gone from my side. I catch sight of a prominent ear tip in the 'As
    Seen On TV' store.

    "What are you looking for?" I scold him.

    He points to the Ab-Roller. "What about that?"

    "You think that's appropriate?"

    "My wife griped on and on about her belly after Luke was born." He
    always called her 'his wife', never using her name. Like my house,
    or my car.

    I suggest, "That may be too personal a gift, John. Dana may not
    take it in the spirit in which it was intended."

    "You think?" His brow furrows.

    "Come on."

    In the end, I find myself buying a whale song CD in the Discovery
    Store, and John gets a huge bouquet of yellow roses.

    "Women love flowers," he notes with satisfaction.

    I sneeze as their cloying odor fills the car.

     

    Fox Mulder answers the door. "Hi. What can I do for you guys?" he
    says, like it's his place and we've come to see him.

    John's shielded behind his flowers. "Agent Scully phoned."

    Across the room, Dana calls out, "Come in." She's still in her
    robe and pajamas and swings the bundled baby, held low in her
    arms.

    After we cross the threshold, no one speaks or moves. Finally,
    Dana offers, "Why don't you sit down?"

    John holds his flowers out. She notes this. "Oh, Mulder, could you
    find a vase for those--" She gives off a tired smile. "Lovely
    flowers? Top shelf, first cabinet."

    "Sure," Fox says grudgingly.

    I peek under the blanket. "Oh, he's sleeping." The baby gurgles,
    spits, yawns, and suddenly his eyes pop open. I nervously chuckle.
    "Oops. Uh, I brought something too."

    He coughs, spits again, and then the toothless, tiny mouth opens,
    and a wail begins: low, rising, pushing me backward.

    "I'm sorry," I babble.

    Fox leaves his flower arranging and starts pacing laps around
    Dana, who's switched from swaying to jiggling. She forces out
    another smile. "It's fine. It's perfectly normal for him to cry.
    You just surprised him."

    Stepping away, I hug myself, tucking the CD under my armpit. John
    has his back to the wall, concern twisting his features, and he
    shoots me an accusatory look.

    I try to telegraph my innocence to him, but Dana says to us,
    "Please. Sit down."

    The sharpness in her tone causes us to both hurry off and plop
    down on the sofa. There's a whispered conference behind our backs
    that we ignore.

    We jump when Mulder comes around. He's holding the baby - finally
    out of that blanket - in stiff arms. He lowers himself into a
    chair, back straight. He lays the baby across his thighs, and
    then bends over so he can encircle the tiny form with an arm
    fence. It's an awkward pose, and slightly bizarre.

    I try to get the conversation rolling again. "What's his name?"

    Fox appears confused for a moment. "Uh--"

    Dana says from the kitchen, "William." She's filled the vase and
    brings it into the living room, placing the roses on the mantle.
    "There." She smiles at John, finally at full wattage. "Thank you.
    They're beautiful."

    "I hope William doesn't have an allergy," Fox says.

    John asks, "He checked out fine? At the hospital?"

    "Yes," is the only answer Dana gives. She heads for a chair,
    walking carefully.

    I note, "You seem to be doing well, considering."

    "Yes, thank you."

    "So you didn't tear?"

    The men go completely still, eyes glazed in terror.

    She has paused in her descent but then sits. "No. Thank you for
    your concern."

    John bellows out, much too loud for the space, "Kersh kicked our
    asses, needless to say!"

    Fox, cradling the baby, rises quickly. He hands William off to
    Dana. He has to jiggle his hand until the baby lets go of his
    finger. "I better go get my things, Scully. I'll be back soon."
    Clumsy, he caps William's skull with his palm for a moment. Having
    posted all his large 'Mulder's Property' signs, he heads to the
    door.

    "Bye, Mulder," she calls after him. Next, she asks, "So what
    happened?"

    John seems dazed. "With what?"

    "Kersh." She's back to swaying. William dozes.

    "I volunteered for the X-files," I say. Then, worried I've made
    her feel obsolete, follow up with, "Until you're ready to return
    to duty."

    She strokes William's thatch of light hair, attempting to slick it
    down. It springs back up in a troll doll imitation. "I'm not sure
    when that will be."

    "Of course. Of course," John says, going for hail and hearty
    cheer. It fails when she doesn't say anything more.

    A clock ticks. The baby wheezes. I cross my legs, uncross them,
    and cross them again.

    Suddenly, Dana asks, "Would you do me a huge favor?"

    "Of course," we both rush out, leaning forward.

    "Could you watch William while I take a shower?" Her eyelids lower
    in bliss. "A long, hot, shower?"

    "Sure." I force some confidence into my tone. John bobs his head
    wordlessly.

    Dana rises, pausing, her gaze flitting back and forth between us.
    I finally hold up my arms. She pauses just a beat too long, then
    hands me her loose, snoozing bundle.

    The head. The head. Support the head. That's the only thing I can
    ever remember from holding babies. I pull William close, figuring
    that's the safest position. Immediately, I feel warm moisture.
    Glancing down, I see his drool has stained my silk blouse.

    The shower goes on. I have to handle this for at least fifteen
    minutes.

    Reading my mind, John asks, "You okay? Want some help?"

    Short with him, I gripe, "How can you help me hold a baby?"

    "I mean if something happens."

    "What can happen?" I don't want to know the answer. I try that
    swaying business, and William burps.

    "Say he cries. Or wants a bottle."

    Forlorn, I mention, "I think she's breastfeeding."

    Both our heads swivel towards the bathroom. I begin an inner
    mantra, inner because I know such things bother John, 'sleep,
    sleep, sleep...'

    William hears my prayers. Neither of us speaks, not wanting to
    disturb him.

    Dana finally comes out, rubbing her hair on a towel. Her smile is
    bright and real. "Thank you so much, Monica and John."

    I hear John blink rapidly. "I remember what it was like. Dana."

    "I better get used to it, right?"

    "And appreciate it, even at 4 AM," he adds.

    The light fades a bit in her eyes, but she nods. "Yes, John. I
    won't forget."

    The limp form in my arms suddenly explodes, wiggling, grumbling,
    and finally crying, full and strong.

    She takes him from me. "I think he wants lunch."

    "We better go," John says.

    "Would you like us to stay? Until Fox gets back?" I ask.

    Peeking into William's diaper, Dana mutters, "First things first,"
    then glances at us. "I'll be fine. Thank you for coming by."

    I promise, "We won't be strangers," but she's already hurried
    towards the bedroom. I call after her, "We'll let ourselves out."

    *****

    John stops at the first corner store. After a moment of sitting in
    the car, I ask, "What?"

    "You gonna go get those cigarettes?"

    He's waiting when I exit the store. "Come on." It's started to
    drizzle, but he hasn't brought an umbrella from the car.
    Regardless, I follow him down the street.

    We're near the C & O Canal Towpath, and find a tree that gives us
    some shelter. I light one cigarette, inhaling. Hesitating at
    first, I hand it off to him. He takes it, sucking in the smoke. I
    think about lighting another, but wait to see if he'll give it
    back. He does, and I wrap my lips around the filter, drawing deep.

    After exhaling, I say, "You're in love with her."

    He shakes his head as he takes a puff.

    "You want her to come back to the X-files."

    "She knows how to investigate these sort of cases. We don't."

    "She's just had a baby. She's in love with Fox Mulder, John."

    He holds the cigarette away from us both, so the smoke fans behind
    us. He leans close, as though we're in a crowd and he's telling a
    secret. Speaking in his slow way, he enunciates, "I'm not in love
    with Dana Scully."

    Feeling stupid and giddy, I have to say, "But you like her."

    He gives a quick grin. "Yeah. I like you too."

    My giddiness gone, I turn away.

    He's close to my ear. "You want this?"

    I shake my head. The ashes are bitter on my tongue.

    I hear him grind it out under his shoe. He doesn't step back and
    his steady breathing stirs my hair.

    "John, we can do this ourselves."

    "It never hurts to ask for help, Monica."

    I face him square. My mouth just keeps talking. "How would you
    know?"

    "We should go back. You're getting wet."

    I feel that familiar urge to belt him, but resist. I walk quick,
    keeping ahead.

    He calls after me, "Did you see the nose on that kid? I didn't
    want to say anything, but, jeez."

    He's broken my wall. I laugh, spinning to walk backwards. "Yeah,
    well, that answered one question." I find myself grasping his
    finger, only for a moment. "I love how babies do that. They seem
    so helpless but are so strong."

    "Yep. It's like a bird holding onto your finger. And you know
    they're gonna fly away before long."

    It's always there. I can see his son's body. Still. Cold. Bloated.
    I never shirk from this familiar image. This is my only connection
    with Luke Doggett and I won't forget him.

    "Don't get that look," John says, turning his face up to the rain.

    "We can help people no one else will, John."

    He strides forward, bowing his head to the quickening rain.

    "Are you going to ignore everything you've seen in these past few
    days? I saw Billy Miles rise from the dead. And I know you've seen
    more." He's still ignoring me, so I grab his arm. "Will you block
    all that out so you won't hurt anymore?"

    He stops and meets my gaze. I'm sure my hair hangs in damp
    straggles and my mascara has run. "Do you believe in the existence
    of extraterrestrials, Monica?"

    He's serious. He wants a solid answer, not my gut feeling or
    wishes and theories. I hate to say it, but I do: "I don't know."

    He nods. "I don't either."

    I throw my hands up. "Now what?"

    "I guess we should go back to the office and get to work." He
    tramps off, shoulders hunched.

    I watch his retreating back for a moment. It wasn't the reassuring
    statement I needed, but it's all I'm going to get. I hurry to
    catch up.

     

     

    ~~~The End~~~

    AUTHOR'S NOTES: I like the new characters, and enjoy the challenge
    of making them fit on the XF canvas. I found it easy from the
    beginning to write for Mulder and Scully. The UST was full blown
    by the time I came onboard, and their voices are fun to write.
    With so little material, these two are proving more difficult! For
    one thing, I have to remind myself that Reyes is taller than
    Scully! And for some reason, I'm concerned that a romance would be
    unprofessional. I think I'm a couple years to late waking up to
    that fact!

    If you'd like to feedback, feel free, at: bugsfic@yahoo.com