TITLE: Delivery at the Corner of Dupont and Connecticut
AUTHOR: Rachel Vagts
E-MAIL: rvagts@willinet.net
DISTRIBUTION: Yes, but please let me know.  I will submit
directly to Gossamer.
SPOILERS: Requiem
RATING: PG-13
CLASSIFICATION: VHA Vignette/Humor/Angst
KEYWORD:  MSR, babyfic
SUMMARY: Scully's life has turned into a soap opera and
it's not getting better now that the baby is on the way.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on the characters and
situations created by Chris Carter, the Fox Network and Ten
Thirteen Productions.  As such, the characters named are
the property of those entities and are used without
permission, although no copyright infringements are
intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:  This was inspired by the baby angst
challenge on I Want To Believe.  The angst is in
there...under the sarcasm.  Many thanks to Gerry who pumps
me up and corrects my grammar.  Additional beta by Marti.

Delivery at the Corner of Dupont and Connecticut
By Rachel Vagts

I've heard it said that no one on TV has a single birth in
the hospital without complications.  Twins...yes.  Cord
around the neck...yes.  Taxi cab birth...double yes.  Well,
I'm not a character on television, but I might as well be.
My life has turned into a total soap opera.

When I was growing up in Annapolis, I always thought I
would get married the June after I graduated from college.
In most of those fantasies it was in the chapel at the
Academy.  I had seen the beautiful girls in their white
gowns and the groom in his dress whites.  I knew that my
wedding would be just like that.

When we moved to San Diego, I had to adjust that vision
slightly.  Now it was a more hippie-type ceremony.  We were
on the beach, barefoot, an intense sunset behind us as we
recited our vows.  My groom was a blonde fighter pilot.  I
had seen Top Gun about ten times.  He was going to "take me
to bed or lose me forever."

The shocking reality of hitting thirty with no Maverick in
sight was off-set by my new career in the FBI.  Thirty-
five...well, that was the wake-up call.  Here I was,
trapped in a loveless relationship and barren.  No sex.  No
snuggling.  No baby.  No Maverick.

It started to change when he kissed me.  It was
so...well...platonic.  Fortunately when we got in the car
something came over me and I kissed him back.  I really
kissed him back.  That seemed to start things moving down
the track.  I don't think I had a sense of the dramatic
potential at the moment, but after my dream lover was
abducted by aliens and I found myself pregnant with the
child I was never supposed to bear...well, I started to
watch Days of Our Lives for pointers.

Maybe Days of Our Lives wasn't the right comparison,
although the hormones were making me appreciate that demon
possession storyline.  The recent events of my life were
actually more like that new one, Passions, with the little
doll that talked, or maybe General Hospital...they had had
an alien, after all.

He's back, kind of.  The Gunmen found Mulder last week, in
Oregon.  Of course I can't get out to him -- not permitted
to fly -- and he can't come here yet, but they assure me,
with a secure download to my RealPlayer, that he's coming
along just fine.  Hmm...looks like a catatonic state to me,
but I really won't be able to judge until I see him myself.

I thought it would kill me to have him there and me here,
but now I think this pregnancy is what's killing me.  I
begged the OB to induce me when I saw her last week.  She
just smiled and told me to be patient.  I am not a very
patient person.

The contractions started during a meeting in Skinner's
office.  It somehow seemed fitting.  Doggett staring at me,
wondering if he should carry me to his car or faint.  I had
felt something that morning, but it was my back and that
had been hurting for months.  How was I to know?  Of course
I did an OB rotation, but they don't really tell you what
it feels like.

As Skinner was helping me to his car, I couldn't help
thinking that this was the ultimate ditch.  I could not
believe that after the miracle of this conception that
Mulder was not going to be there to watch his son or
daughter enter the world.  Bastard.  Then I realized that
he's probably feeling as bad as I do...if he's aware of it.

I had a sense as we pulled out from the garage that we
probably should have called the ambulance.  The
sense...well, it was the sense of a large object rapidly
appearing between my legs.

"Pull over!" I called between pants.

"Agent Scully, we're in the middle of Dupont Circle,"
Skinner responded, briefly taking his eyes off the road to
look at me.

"I think she's serious, sir," Doggett responded.

Skinner reluctantly pulled to the side in front of
Starbucks store #347, reaching for his cell phone  to call
for an ambulance.  Great timing, Walt.  I thought the
Marines were always prepared, or maybe that was the Boy
Scouts.  I couldn't think, the pain was intense.  At least
they never left anyone behind.  If this baby killed me
there would be some kind of mortuary pick-up.

"They'll be here in fifteen minutes," Skinner reported.

"He's coming now!" I screamed.

Doggett and Skinner looked dumb-founded.  Traffic was
piling up and more than one person had graced us with a
long honk and a good view of their middle digit.

"This is not happening!" I called.  "I want my mother.  I
want Mulder.  I want some fucking drugs!"

I had not planned for any of this.  I had a suitcase packed
and ready at home, dammit.  My mom was coming to pick me up
in two weeks.  My OB thought they would have to induce.  I
was not having this baby in the backseat of a Crown
Victoria.  Why was I so cursed?!?!?

He was supposed to be here.  Every time I thought about
this, he was here.  Sometimes he was fine, just like I last
saw him in the hallway outside Skinner's office.  Sometimes
he was weak, leaning on me as he watched the baby emerge.
Other times he was very weak, and we were in side-by-side
beds.  On time I dreamt that he was in a coma, but he was
always there.  He was never fully conscious in a hospital
on the other side of the continent.

I could hear the siren screaming now.  They were coming.
They were going to save me from this most humiliating
situation.  I had never anticipated that Agent Doggett
would become my permanent partner, but I sure as hell
wasn't working with him now that he had peeked up my dress
and assessed the thinning of my membranes.

"Is this the 38 weeks?" the paramedic asked.

Thirty-eight weeks?  How did Skinner know that?  Did he
tell them?  Would I never have any secrets again?

"Okay ma'am, you're going to just have to take a deep
breath here.  There's going to be some pressure."

SWEET JESUS...SOME PRESSURE!!!!  They weren't kidding.

"We're crowning down here," the paramedic said.  I was
propped up enough to see Doggett lean in to get a closer
look.

"Get away, agent!" I yelled.  He shot me a sheepish look
and disappeared from my field of vision.

"Take another breath and when I say, push," the paramedic
coached.

I followed her instructions, pushing that watermelon out of
my donut hole.

"Waah!"

Well, she had definitely gotten her mother's spirit.
Before I could ruminate much further the screaming ball was
placed in my arms.  I recognized the jacket as belonging to
Skinner.  He had put himself on the line many times for
Mulder and I, but surrendering his new Hugo Boss grey
flannel was really above and beyond.

I was more than content to stay in the backseat of the
Crown Victoria, but it seemed that the paramedics had
another idea.  They wanted me at the hospital now.

I was slid out of the car in a fairly ungraceful fashion,
the baby briefly handed over to the owner of the grey
flannel and then tucked back in with me.  Ten blocks later
we were pulled out of the ambulance and whisked into the
hospital I had carefully visited so I would know everything
about the birthing rooms.

Why do I prepare anymore?  I would have been much better
off just not even finding an OB/GYN.  I could have gone
into the woods and squatted under a tree for as much good
as it was going to do me.

I was spiraling pretty quickly into self-pity as they
wheeled me into the maternity ward.  The orderlies seemed
to think that I wanted to know about their league
basketball game as they talked over my head and someone had
snatched my baby away.  I sent Skinner to watch over her.
I figure if nothing else he was motivated to get his suit
coat back.

We headed to the last room on the hallway.  As we got close
I was sure I saw a head of long, stringy blonde hair pull
back into the room.  Great, now I had to share a room too.
I had paid extra for a private but with my luck it was one
of those mini baby booms that seem to come nine months
after a big snow storm or a city-wide black-out.

I was just preparing my screed for the poor unsuspecting
orderly when I saw him.  He looked like hell, but he was
here.  Mulder, in all his glory, was propped up on the
second bed in the room.  Between his bed and mine was our
tiny, yet unnamed, daughter.

"We didn't want to say anything until we knew we could get
him here," Byers explained after they got me settled in my
bed.  I had wanted to go immediately to him, but the scream
of my body after the drug-free birth convinced me that we
would have years to touch each other.

I turned my head and just stared.  I was in shock.  How
could he be here?  Better yet...was my luck changing?

After explaining to me that Mulder was stable, but lapsing
in and out of consciousness, the Gunmen excused themselves.
I just kept watching him, his chest rising and lowering.
Our daughter was following suit, asleep in her little bed.
With all the excitement I still hadn't gotten a chance to
check her much beyond making sure she had ten fingers and
toes.  They had wrapped her in a little pink blanket and
put a cap on her head to keep her warm.  She looked so
precious.

Pain be damned, I crawled out of bed and shuffled over to
the baby.  I was trailing my finger down her soft cheek
when I sensed his eyes on me.

"Hey," he choked out.

"Hey, yourself," I responded.  We had never been all that
good with words.

"What's her name?" he asked.

"I was waiting for you," I replied.

"Thanks."

I turned back to our daughter.  As I was watching her I
heard the rustling of sheets.  Before I could stop him,
Mulder was beside me.

"Hey, you probably shouldn't be out of bed," I scolded.

"Neither should you," he responded.  He reached down and
picked the baby up.  Without another word he moved us all
to his bed.  I climbed in first, he handed me the baby and
then joined us.

"Sorry I wasn't there."

"It's okay," I replied, as I loosened my gown and led the
baby to my breast.  She eagerly began to nurse.

"No, it isn't, but there isn't much we can do about that.
We'll just have to move on from here."

I leaned in to kiss him.  I might not have gotten Tom
Cruise or the Navy chapel, but at this point a man who
loved me and a healthy daughter seemed to be all I needed.
Now if I could just find the resort where Cruz and Eden had
their wedding...

FIN