False Fronts

10-96
From Saraid: <G> I'm not getting any *Ma-illll* (la-la-la). If nobody writes me I don't write any more on this series....:) You got any objections to this piece, email me and we'll talk about it. I will tell you up front that I have personal experience with the most disturbing part of what follows and can tell you a lot about it. But I will admit my view is biased as I still consider it a reasonable solution (and I'm not talking about abortion here, either) in some circumstances. Worse then some, better than others. (and people wonder why I'm not hospitalized....)

It ain't all sweetness and light here, folks.

details: --------

*Ah-one, ah-two, ah-one-two-three-four -!* Dis-claimer, dis- claimer, it's time to say *dis-claimer*, Dis-claimer, dis- claimer, let's sing the disclaimer song! (*everybody*, on four!)   Rated PG or PG-13 for mild violence in a disturbing context. (not sexual - I'm done with *that*) MSR, Story, and Dancing-Boy is back. No bad language, no spoilers unless you haven't read the rest of the series; shame on you! Go back and do it now, I'll wait. (tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.....)



WALLS#7: False Fronts

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

part#1 ------ falling

She had chosen this doctor out of the book, mostly because she could get in today. Early.

Because once she decided to face the possibility, she had to do it *now*.

There really hadn't been that much to it. She told Mulder she needed to visit her mother, got in the car and drove. Made several -- okay, *many* sudden sharp turns, just in case. Stopped at a phone booth, flipped to the yellow pages, and began making calls.

And here she was.

She smoothed her soft linen skirt, trying not to notice that her hands were shaking.

She'd done what she was supposed to. Taken the pills every morning. Even asked to check the expiration date on the big bottle at the pharmacy once, feeling paranoid and cursing Mulder's effect on her. Laughing, the pharmacist had indulged her.

But maybe it hadn't been enough.

They didn't have sex often, she thought defensively. He was too paranoid, afraid to set a pattern that would tip *them* off. Once or twice a week, sometimes not at all for a week or more, and *never* on a case. So she'd probably be able to pinpoint the actual day...

She gratefully let the thought drop as the door opened and the doctor stepped back in, her white coat gone.

"Miss. Scully." Tall, slightly overweight, soft brown hair falling into clear grey eyes, she wasn't old enough to be her mother, but just now Scully felt like a child, a frightened, apprehensive child, who wanted mommy to make it all better.

Dr. Sarah Hall went to sit behind her desk, then changed her mind and took the armchair in front of it, turning so that she faced her patient.

The pretty, fragile-looking redhead with terror shining from her so-blue eyes. Who had called and asked for a last-minute appointment, and showed up ten minutes later.

Who had paid for the visit in advance. With cash.

Her suit was good quality, her hair and makeup spoke of professional standards.

The gun she'd calmly laid to one side while undressing spoke of casual familiarity with danger.

Sarah Hall had seen fear, and understood it.

This woman was very afraid, and her condition was a major factor in that fear.

Her thoughts passed quickly and she saw that the woman was watching her. With an apologetic smile she opened the file and met her eyes.

"You are pregnant." she said softly, wanting to be kind.

A sound like a sob, then her hands came up to cover her face.

She wasn't crying. Dr. Hall put a gentle hand on her still shoulder and waited.

The blue eyes were luminous with tears when she looked back up, but they didn't fall, and her jaw was set with determination.

"How long?"

Pulling her hand back, not wanting to somehow deny this woman's strength, Dr. Hall answered.

"Seven weeks. It could be a Christmas baby."

"He'd *love* that." Scully said flatly and Dr. Hall was further worried.

"The father?" she tried to ask it gently. "If I'm going to help you through this we should talk about circumstances and how they affect you. Or you might want to shop around and see if there are any doctors you really like." Or go see your regular doctor.

"I won't be back." Scully tried a smile that curved her lips but didn't make it past her nose. "Is there anything I need to be doing right now for the baby?"

Her direct reference to it caught Dr. Hall off-guard. She had already known...of course. This was just making it official.

"I can give you a prescription for prenatal vitamins, but you are aware of the importance of good prenatal care?" she asked, slowly getting up and going around the desk to scribble on the pink pad.

"There are..." the woman hesitated. " - circumstances. I may not continue this pregnancy."

Holding her tongue, Dr. Hall help out the slip, and she took it gracefully. Her hands weren't shaking any longer.

"Thank you." Scully said softly, leaving the tidy office and stepping out into the spring sunshine, just heating up to summer.

Her life was changed.

It was such a powerful, unexpected sensation.

Her life was no longer just her own.

Stopping with her car door half-open, she suddenly curled a little bit around herself, arms wrapped protectively around her flat stomach.

"Oh, god." she said aloud.

Watching from a window, Sarah Hall winced. This woman wanted this baby, she *knew* that. What could possibly make her consider not having it?

part#2 ------ busted

Mulder looked up from the file expectantly. To his surprise, Scully was staring at the wall. Again.

"Scully." he slapped the file down to get her attention. "Am I boring you?"

"No, Mulder." she sighed and he winced. She looked so tired lately. "I'm listening. The blood tests were inconclusive, but you still feel that the anomaly could be explained if the patients were all exposed to hard radiation for a period of time approaching a nanasecond." Now she looked at him. "Mulder, we can't even measure nanoseconds. *Any* radiation exposure would have left other physical evidence, not this minute, *bizarre* DNA twist."

"*Should* have, Scully." he was enjoying this, enjoying baiting her, trying to distract her from whatever was bothering her. "It was probably a kind of radiation we aren't even aware of. Something they use, or something incidental.." he stopped as she looked away again.

Away from him.

*That was it*. She didn't want to look at *him*.

With silent tread he walked over and touched her shoulder. She jumped, and he grimaced. It wasn't like her, to be nervous around him. Going around to the front of her desk, he crouched on the floor before it and stared at her across the bare surface.

"What did I do?" he said softly. Trying to keep his voice neutral, to make his eyes blank, empty of emotion. Hands twisted between his legs, out of sight. "We haven't spent much time together lately, I know..."

She looked at him, and he couldn't read her _expression. A first.

"It's nothing." she said softly. "I've just got things on my mind." her voice was soft, but her eyes were darting, as if she was looking for an escape.

"Tell me." he didn't dare any more than that.

She didn't answer, looking down at the desktop, away from him.

"Maybe we could take a walk..." he suggested. Maybe she would talk about it away from the office and the ears they knew were listening. They were pushing the limits already. "I'll bring the file and we can discuss it in more - pleasant surroundings."

Her nod was all he needed.



They went to the elevator, Mulder a half-step behind her, his hand hovering at the small of her back, not quite touching.

*What was bothering her*? he asked himself as she pushed the button and they waited. *Was it their relationship? It had been a week since they were *together*. Did she want more now? Did she want to end it?*

Feeling him there, hovering, protecting her as best he could, as he always did, she felt a sudden relief. *I'm going to tell him. It can't be any worse than agonizing over it alone...He has a right to know.* she thought, glad to have made that decision.

The elevator light blipped on and they waited for the door to open.

*Then I won't have to decide alone*. she allowed herself to finish the thought. And the door slid open.

"Agent Scully, Agent Mulder." AD Skinner stood in the metal box. He looked...concerned. Yes, that was it, Mulder decided. Concerned, and perhaps angry.

He began scrolling back through his memory to find whatever it was he had done so he could apologize and they could get out of here to talk.

Skinner surprised him by ignoring him, looking instead at Scully.

"I was wondering if you could join me for lunch, Agent Scully." he said, with such a flat intonation that her heart sank and she thought, despair filling her. *He knows*.

He heard Scully give a little gasp and *felt* her shrink against him. No more than an inch, but enough for him to know that she didn't want to talk to him.

And maybe enough for Skinner to notice it.

"We were just going to clear this case, sir." he spoke up, gleefully risking Skinner's anger for his Scully.

"I would like to, sir." she said as soon as the words left Mulder's mouth, pulling the rug out. "Would you mind if Agent Mulder joins us?" she pried delicately.

"I was hoping to discuss a...personal matter, Agent Scully." his dark eyes said it clearly. He definitely knew.

"I have no secrets from my partner, sir." she met his eyes and he blinked. Whether it was shock or disappointment, she couldn't tell. Perhaps both.

"Perhaps you should." Skinner sounded vaguely accusing as he stepped back to make room for them in the elevator. Scully got in and Mulder followed, keeping himself between them. He thought loudly as the doors closed. *What the hell was going on*?

Instead of walking to one of the familiar places close by Skinner insisted that he drive them to a place he knew.

"It's worth the drive." he said as he started the car. "Very quiet, and perfectly *clean*."

Saying nothing, Mulder sat in the back and stared at the back of Scully's head, silently urging her to turn and smile at him. Scold him. *Something*.

She looked straight ahead the whole half-hour drive.

"Here we are." the waiter, a young black man, undoubtedly gay, showed them to a small table screened by plants.

Mulder pulled out Scully's chair and both men waited until she was seated before sitting themselves. She wasn't surprised at this old-world courtesy coming from Skinner. Very military.

Skinner picked up a menu and studied it while she looked around. This wasn't the sort of place she had thought Skinner would frequent, expensive and very french, somber colors and discreet staff in suits, but the matre'de had greeted him by name and title.

She hoped it was as *clean* as he claimed.

"Would you like me to order for you, Agent Scully?" his voice caught her by surprise. She'd been brooding again.

"Please, sir." she answered. Mulder frowned over his menu.

"Sir, what is this about?" he said suddenly, loudly. Scully sighed. The tension was getting to him.

""I would prefer to wait until after we've eaten." Skinner said slowly, anger masked. "The food deserves your attention."

"I don't think I'll be able to eat." Mulder responded in the same tone.

Skinner glanced at Scully, who nodded.

"My intention was to speak with Agent Scully alone." Skinner said quietly. "But she obviously wants you here, and you may be able to answer a question for me."

They were both staring at him, but Mulder kept darting little glances at Scully. The set of her jaw, the acceptance of her gaze told him that she already knew what Skinner wanted. Or thought she did, and it amounted to the same thing.

The waiter stepped up but Skinner waved him away.

"I received a disturbing piece of email this morning, Agent Scully." he began. "Unsigned, and I can't trace it. The information in it was confidential, and it concerned both of you."

Mulder was looking alarmed but resigned, and her _expression didn't changes, telling them both now that she knew what this was about.

Skinner looked as uncomfortable as a man of his dignity could. "This is difficult for me, Agent Scully. I want to say now that I do not want an answer right away. I want you to take 24 hours to think about it. We will meet again for lunch tomorrow and then, *only then*, you may answer me. Is that understood?" a bit of the marine command crept into his voice and she nodded, once.

Skinner paused, seemed to be gathering words.

At last, he spoke.

"Agent Scully. Are you pregnant?"

Mulder felt the world crash down and his heart stop. Hearing his gasp Skinner and Scully stared at him

The blood had drained from his face, leaving him ghastly pale. Scully wondering with clinical detachment if he was going to faint.

"Agent Mulder? Are you well?" Skinner's voice had an edge to it.

Grabbing his glass and gulping water, Mulder managed a strangled affirmative. Skinner turned back to Scully, who was pale but not startled.

She nodded at him, with a small, tight smile, her hands  very still, clenched on the tablecloth.

"Is Agent Mulder the father?" Skinner's voice was low but snapped with some emotion she couldn't identify.

He held up a hand though she didn't begin to answer.

"*That* is the question I want you to answer, Agent Scully. The question I want you to take *the time* to answer."

She nodded again, feeling Mulder's eyes on her, wide and hurt.

"Scully, you're pregnant?" Mulder was acutely aware of Skinner's gaze on him, tried desperately to show nothing other than partner-ly concern, not knowing if he succeeded. The shock he had felt ran so deep he felt numb.

"Yes, Mulder." her voice was perhaps softer than it should have been, but that could be blamed on the circumstances.

Skinner waved at the waiter, who almost dashed over. He ordered for all of them, looking at the menu while Scully met Mulder's eyes.

*Sorry* she mouthed, allowing a bit of her fear to show through.

*I love you* it was the perfect response at the worst possible time, but he couldn't say it out loud. Her eyes told him that she'd heard it in her heart.

Skinner was studiously studying his napkin as he unfolded it.

Lunch was delicious, but none of them tasted anything.



part#3 ------ saved

By unspoken mutual consent they didn't leave the office early. Scully sat at her desk and finished an overdue report. Mulder sat at his desk and pretended to read a stack of files.

Then it was 6:00 and they walked out into the evening heat, without speaking to each other once.

"My place?" she asked as they stood, not looking at each other.

"Mine was *cleaned* yesterday*." his response was short and clipped. Was he mad at her?

*Why*?

Because she hadn't told him? Because Skinner knew first? Or simply because she *was* pregnant?

Well, she was going to find out.

"Now." she said firmly. He finally looked at her, but his eyes were so guarded she couldn't read them.

"Yes." his voice was soft and she relaxed a tiny bit inside. "now."



His apartment was dark and cold. The air conditioner was working for once and he was taking advantage of it, leaving it on constantly in doomed hope the cool would stay after it inevitably broke again.

"You want anything?" he asked as he shut the door, turning to the tiny kitchen.

She sat on the battered couch, one hand stroking the blanket folded so neatly on the back.

"Some tea would be nice." she said.

"Decaf." his grin was a flash, gone too quickly.       

He brought back two mugs and the honey.

"I cheated." he admitted. "Microwave."

"S'okay." she took hers gingerly, surprised to find it wasn't hot, adding a spoonful of honey and stirring.

"Poured it into another one." he explained, noticing, understanding.           

They were quiet.

"So." he didn't look at her.

"So." she looked at him.

More silence, but at least now they were looking at each other. His eyes were still dark and unreadable, hers shining softly.

"Whatever happens, Mulder..." she sighed. "I want you to know I'm happy about this."

"Really?" he turned to her convulsively, grabbing her hands and holding them close to his chest. "I...I..."

"That doesn't mean I'm keeping it." she said quickly, wanting it to be clear.

Her words had a stunning effect on him. He pushed himself off the couch and backed to the wall on the other side of the small room, arms crossed convulsively, hands clutching his shoulders, head down.

"*Why not*?" a defensive whisper. She heard the hurt in it, felt it as if it were her own.

She wished he would look at her, just meet her eyes while she tried to explain, but the floor had his visual attention now.

She hoped he was at least listening. She tried to put all of her worry, her fear into her words so he would *understand*.

"I don't know what they did to me, Mulder. They may have changed me. They may have *hurt* me. Is it right for me to have a baby when I know something may be wrong with it?"

His voice was hard and flat. "It's your body, you decide."

More hurt, she tried to keep it out of her voice.

"It's *our* decision, Mulder. I wouldn't keep you out of this."

*It's too important* she thought, wanting him to hear the words without her having to *say* them.

He didn't respond. She got up and went to him, touching his face gently, but he pulled away from her hand, actually took a step back away from her.

"What is it?" she whispered. "There's more to this."

"It has nothing to do with you." he answered, still not looking at her, arms across his chest, hands on his shoulders, a posture she had come to recognize, Mulder trying to make himself feel better because no one else would. Trying to comfort himself.

It broke her heart to imagine him younger, standing like this, no one loving him enough to see his pain.

Sometimes she wondered if anyone had *ever* hugged him when he was little.

"I didn't think you wanted children, Mulder."

"*Your* children, Scully? *Yours*." It was so soft, so sad. The words floated in the room. "Anything, Scully. For *your* children."

"Oh, Mulder." she reached for him but he moved again. Now he was in the corner, trapped, leaning back, breath coming faster. Was he still here, in this room with her? She wanted him to face her, stepped up, inches between them. "*Fox*. What is it? What's *wrong*?"

Her use of his name seemed to break some barrier in him but he fought it, biting his lip until she was sure he would draw blood, wedging himself tighter into the corner.

She reached and placed hand on his arm, knowing he wouldn't allow more,but it was enough. He could feel it there like a brand, and the warmth of it radiated through his body. And he could speak; slowly, painfully.

"I hated her by then, but I still wanted her..." he began, and stopped. Began again, his voice cracking. "She told me...and I begged her to give it to me, *begged* her, Scully, told her she wouldn't have to do anything but *have* it..."

"*Phoebe*." her anger at this woman, a constant dark spot in her heart, rose in her. Murder was too good.

He didn't answer, but she knew.

"She said she would wait...and then she did it anyhow." his voice failed, a harsh whisper, and he raised one hand to wipe his eyes, still not looking at her.

Afraid to reach for him, not knowing if he would welcome her comfort, Scully stood, indecisive, her hand still.

Then she made a decision. The hard one. It was the right thing, and she'd known it all along. No matter what may have been done to her, no matter how it screwed up their lives.

"I'm having this baby." she said steadily. "We just have to find a way to keep it from destroying us."

He looked up, caught her eyes. His were still wet with the tears he wouldn't shed.

"I'm *sorry*, Scully!" he said at last. "I should have been more careful."

"We *were* careful. This is always a possibility." she leaned against his chest, felt relief when his arms came around her. His head was on her shoulder, in her hair, and it felt good to be held.

"What are we going to do?" he wasn't whining or panicking. Just asking. Too tired, too scared to think.

"I don't know." she answered, wanting to be held, to stop thinking about it, just for a while. "*I don't know*."

They held onto each other for a while, and then went to the couch. Mulder picked up the phone, ordered takeout, and snuggled her close, wanting only to hold her long enough to feel better...



The doorbell rang a few minutes later.

"That can't be the food." she said, her face buried in his shirt. She moved reluctantly to let him get up.   

"Worse." he said, opening the door. She could have sworn she heard laughter in his voice, however unlikely that was. "It's the cha-cha chump. Your timing sucks." he told the person on the other side bitterly.

She stood, too, and then frowned as he opened the door wider and another, smaller man stepped in.

"Ru!" she was startled to see him. Going to him, she offered him a hug, and felt him against her, strong and well. "How are you?" it was a good question, considering the last time she'd seen him he'd been bleeding to death from a belly-ripping gunshot wound.

He set her back and sniffed loudly. "No food?"

"Not cooked, and you're not allowed the raw stuff." Mulder answered, not unfriendly, just distracted.

"I'm fine." the dark, slender man smiled at her. "Sorry to scare you like that, Dana. It was kind of a weird time for me."

"Uhuh." she wasn't going to let him get away with that. "You going to explain it now?"

Mulder shut the door while they went to the couch.

"Actually," Dancer sat with that damnable grace, looking so perfectly himself that Mulder wanted, briefly, to shoot him, "- I'm here to help you."

"Help us how?" Mulder asked sharply. *What was going on now*?

"I know you're in a...situation." he said it carefully, looking at both of them, putting them together with his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Dana snapped. "Where did you hear that?"

"You shouldn't pay so much attention to rumors." Mulder added sharply.

Leaning back with a suddenly feral smile at him, Dancer shrugged.

"No rumor. A little illegal tap, maybe, but no rumor. *Yet*." he stressed the last.

"Illegal *tap*?" Scully looked incredulous. "You've got a tap on *Skinner*?"

"His computer." Dancer nodded, enjoying this but very serious now. "I found out when he did."

"*How*?" Dana practically screamed. "How did *he* find out?! Who *told* him?"

Dancer didn't flinch before her rage, and Mulder moved closer, to put a reassuring arm around her.

"Let him finish." he whispered to her, wondering if Dancer could hear him. "I think he's trying to help."

"Yes." Dancer said softly and Mulder wondered if he could read minds as well. "I only want to help, Dana. I think I have a solution you can live with."

The bell rang again and he reached for her hand.

"Sit down. We can eat and discuss this." he said softly, his voice carrying, soothing.

Mulder got the door, paid for the food, brought it back to the table and handed it out. He'd ordered a lot.  "Chopsticks?" he offered them to Dancer with a quick grin.

"Thanks." Dancer took them and used them with evidence of practice. Mulder sighed. It seemed like he was good at *everything*.

"I can't eat." Dana said suddenly, dropping her sticks and putting her carton down. "How did you tap Skinner's computer?"

"You *need* to eat." Dancer picked up the sticks and put them back in her hand, placing the food in the other. "I'll explain it, but only if you eat."

He stared until she took a small bite.

It was good and she *was* hungry. She swallowed and took another.

Mulder felt oddly left out.

"So talk." he said sharply.

"Okay." Dancer's tone was placating, but he paused.

There was a minute of quiet as they ate, Dancer gathering his thoughts, looking for a place to start.

"You know I'm not your average Joe." he said finally. "I can't tell you about myself or about my life."

"It's against the rules." Mulder.

"I *can* tell you that what you do -- the two of you -- is important to me and my family."

"Your cousins, too?" Mulder asked, his grin staying a few seconds longer this time.

"Especially to my *cousins*." Dancer grinned back, and his

stayed. "You've helped us twice now, and we protect our friends."

He took another bite of the cashew chicken, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed. Mulder took a bite as well.

Dana kept eating as she listened. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. *Was this normal*? She tamped the thought down -- if she started worrying about everything she'd be a basket case by morning.

"I took it upon myself to take a few precautions that you -- being who and where you are -- weren't able to." Dancer continued, meeting both their eyes in turn.

Illegal precautions. It didn't have to be said aloud.

"I knew the two of you would end up together. It was so obvious I didn't even *try*." his smile was reserved for Scully now. "I was afraid something like this would happen." he didn't say what, they all knew. "So, last month, I asked for a transfer. Here."

"You want to work here?" Dana asked, feeling stupid. "How will that help?"

"We'll say the baby is mine." he said it so simply.

Dana's face froze.

Mulder was thoughtful.

Dancer ate some more.

"The timing works, I think. If not we can fudge it. Skinner thought we were dating, we even *encouraged* that, so he can't discount it as a possibility. And I know someone who can fix any tests they might run..." he stopped as he saw Dana's face.

She was livid. Furious. *Enraged*.

"Dana?" hesitant as he noticed her reaction.

"You *man*." she snarled, standing suddenly, knocking over her food. "You think I need you to lie for me? You think I need you to *take care of this* for ME?!"

Mulder stood quickly, glaring at Dancer, warning him off when he made to follow her into the hallway darkness.

She wouldn't face him.

"Scully..." he said softly. "He's right. It's a good solution. *Think* about it. If they don't know it's mine, then it will be safer. *Our baby* will be safer."

He didn't say safe, because they both knew that they weren't safe anymore. But maybe *safer*.

They won't try to take it to hurt me. Not like they would if they knew it was mine.

"Mulder...!" her voice cracked with the pain of betrayal. "You said *anything...for my baby. *Anything*, Mulder. Didn't you mean it?"

"I meant it, of course I meant it." he whispered, pulling her stiff against his chest. *Anything but lose you*.

Dancer was studying his food as if it were very, very interesting.

"I want this baby, I want *our baby*. But I couldn't stand losing it the way I lost Samantha..." and there's nothing to stop them from taking it...his eyes told her as she looked back and up at him. "If they think we aren't as close, if they think you're in love with someone else, if we give them *proof*, then maybe they'll back off." maybe they'll concentrate on me.

The sobs started deep in her belly and rolled out, her soul being torn from its moorings.

"Why?" she went back to Dancer, stood in front of him, he was still looking carefully at his food. He met her eyes. "Why would you do this for me?" For us?

"I like you." his smile was sweet and guileless. "And someday I may need something from you." His eyes made it clear that he wasn't talking about anything they wouldn't be willing to give.

"How would we do it?" Mulder asked quietly.

"They already think I asked for a transfer because I wanted to be closer to her." Dancer said reasonably. "When she tells them this they'll speed it up. We can get a place together and make it look good."

"And what about me?" Mulder sounded suddenly lost. With a a glance Scully saw his fear, hovering beneath the calm surface. he would hold it in forever, she knew, if she wanted him to, needed him to. "What do I do? Bow out? Stay away? Let you marry her?"

Dana shook her head fiercely, and Dancer grimaced.

"I don't want to marry her, Mulder. Living together will be enough. They'll buy that."

With quiet firmness Dana objected.

"Mulder has to be part of the baby's life. Someday we'll be able to tell him the truth and he has to know Mulder. Has to *love* him." she gave him a mischievous sideways grin that told him she was loved their baby already.

"Him?" Mulder said stupidly.

"It's going to be a boy." she didn't even glance at him, still staring at Dancer, daring him to argue with her. "How long?"

"Until the danger's past." Dancer shrugged. "I can give you a few years. Maybe more."

"What about your life?" she was concerned now. "Do you want to *pretend* and still see other women?"

His eyes hardened, flint-like. He looked suddenly dangerous, startling her.

"I will never take another mate, Dana. Sierra was the only one for me. I know people say that -" he stopped her objection with a sharp look, "- but in my case it's biological. We mate for life. Period."

Mulder was thinking that over as Dancer continued and almost missed the rest.

"Maybe we could find a place *together*." the darker man said softly, musing.

"Oh, that would look *great*." Dana snorted half-heartedly. "I'm sure they'll buy if Mulder's living with us."

"Close would be enough." Mulder said hopefully(?). "Adjoining apartments. A house with a garage apartment I could take. Just something where I could come and go unseen."

"Easier said than found." Dancer commented. "But it might work."

"It has to." Scully said, getting up and crossing to Mulder, now sitting in the armchair. He held out his arms and she slid into them, snuggling on his lap, burrowing to his chest.

"Tired?" he whispered as Dancer took the hint, getting up to clear the table, making himself busy in the kitchen.

"All the time." she admitted, feeling his hands gentle on her body, one smoothing her hair. "This won't work, Mulder." she sighed.

"It has to." he lifted her chin with a finger, kissing her softly. "I can't see any other solution. Except you leave me and the X-Files. And that still won't protect the baby. They took you, Scully. They could take him."

He had frightened her, and so he spent the next few minutes kissing it away, until she lay her head back on his chest and closed her eyes. His hands continued the stroking, soothing, until her weight and breathing told him she was asleep.

They sat that way a long time. He watched the numbers on the clock turn.

Dancer came back in after a while, stood over them, looking down. Mulder met his eyes, his hands clasped around her soft form.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly.

Dancer shrugged.

"I need a cause. A reason to live. I like you."

Mulder's face said he thought there was more to it than that, but he accepted it.

"This will be hard for you." Dancer commented, sitting back on the couch, feet on the coffee table.

"Just keep the public displays of affection to a minimum, okay?" Mulder tried to grin but it wouldn't come.

"I'll be a model boyfriend." Dancer did grin and suddenly Mulder could, too. Understanding warmed the space between them.

"I'd better let you take her back to her place." Mulder sighed and started to shift, but Dancer shook his head.

"They already know I'm in town. Let them think she called me and waited over here because she didn't want to be alone when she told me. If she falls asleep and I decide not to disturb her because she's so tired, that's our business." his words made Scully his responsibility, a twinge of pain in Mulder's heart.

"They're going to stick me in Cold Cases." Dancer continued. "It's all they've got open. I'll take it, but it will mean traveling a lot. Of course her *dedicated* partner will be here to take care of her when I'm not."

Mulder understood.

"Thank you." he said softly. "I may not be able to say it later..."

"It depends on your mood." Dancer nodded. "I understand." He stood, stretching leanly.

"Running tonight?" Mulder asked, curiosity coloring the words vividly.

Dancer smiled, nodded.

"Every night I can." he said, and slipped out the door.

He knew Mulder would be awake to let him back in later.

And Mulder knew it too.



part#4 ------ planned



"We'll see him as soon as we get in." Scully said as she went into her bedroom to change. It was early. She had spent the whole night on Mulder's lap in the living room chair, part of it with Dancer a few feet away on the couch. Her lover probably hadn't slept at all, but he looked okay. He had woken her to bring her home and let her shower and change before work, following her into the bedroom while Dancer rifled her kitchen looking for food.

"He eats more than I do." Mulder commented as he closed the door behind himself and leaned against it, watching her with bright eyes. His face was still but not expressionless, and the dark circles under his eyes weren't as bad as she'd seen them before.

"Mulder." she said, looking pointedly at the door.

"You want me to leave it open?" he feigned innocence. "Dana..."

He wanted to look at her. She was slightly annoyed, but knew he was looking for reassurance, gave in with a shrug.

"I won't look so good a few months from now." she warned him as she stripped gracefully, dirty clothes hitting the floor. She *never* dropped clothes on the floor, but he was there, picking them up, as she went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. His hands full with her linen suit and underthings, he rubbed his face in the soft blue silk of her blouse for a second before following her, dropping the clothes in the hamper, draping the blouse over the hook on the back of the door. She handwashed her own silk, he knew that now.

The bathroom was steamy and all he could make out was a general outline of her form. He would love to join her, but two things stopped him.

He didn't think she wanted him now.

He didn't know if it was safe for the baby.

He stared when she came out, thinking he could see the first small changes in her, wanting so badly to reach out and touch her, test them. The urge was so strong he put his hands behind his back like a naughty child trying to resist candy, feeling deeply that he didn't deserve it, that he'd lost that right.

Drying off with a large green bathsheet, she noticed, and smiled.

"I'll have to get a regular doctor and ask some questions soon, won't I?" she said teasingly.

"Yeah." he smiled softly, pleased that she was happy today, not wanting her to worry about him, not catching the meaning behind the question. "That would be a good idea."

"Dancer will have to go to some of them." she added, going back to the bedroom to dress. Behind her he grimaced.

"I know. But I'll go when he's not here."

"And you can both do Lamaze with me...in case he's out of town when the baby comes."

They both knew the baby might never come. Either or both of them could have had their genes twisted round at some point. But they didn't need to talk about that now, and so they didn't.

Choosing a soft red knit dress instead of a suit, she slipped it on over a lacy slip. "I think I'm making a statement today." she faced him. "What do you think?"

His eyes covered her in a bare second.

"Wonderful." he breathed it between his teeth.

"Time, guys!" Dancer's voice rattled through the door. Mulder closed his eyes as if in pain and gave his head a hard shake.

"If he wasn't bailing us out I'd have to shoot him." he grumbled, opening the door and holding it for Scully.

"Better use a silver bullet." her comment made the men exchange glances. Dancer looked discomfited and Mulder grinned at him.

"Agent Dancer." Skinner looked up with surprise as the three of them walked into his office, Mulder separated from the others by several feet. "I wasn't expecting you for several more weeks."

Dancer was either a very good actor or he'd bought into his role, Mulder thought. He might still have to kill him.

Taking Dana's hand in his and gently interlacing their fingers, Dancer gave Skinner his 'goofy' grin.

"I couldn't stay away with news like this."

Dana blushed faintly and Mulder ground his teeth, very glad Skinner was staring at the two of them and not glancing his direction.

Skinner stood, came around the desk, and studied the closely.

Dana was definitely blushing. She never had lied well, Mulder thought, but under these circumstances it actually helped.

"Do you have something official to tell me, Agent Scully?" Skinner crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. Finally he spared Mulder a glance.

Agent Mulder's face was set, hard and closed, his eyes dark, his hands at his sides.

But he looked like that all the time.

Not getting any information there, Skinner looked back at Scully and Dancer.

"Are congratulations in order?" he inquired politely.

"You can congratulate us on the baby." Dancer said with a wider smile. "But I haven't convinced her to make an honest man of me yet."

"Like that's possible." Scully muttered. "I trust you won't mind if I cancel our lunch plans, sir?" she asked pointedly.

Skinner stared at them for a minute, then looked at Mulder again.

"How about you, Agent Mulder? You want to have lunch with me? I'm sure we could find something to talk about."

"Thank you, sir, no, sir." Mulder said slowly and carefully.

"Well. We'll need to make some arrangements, Agent Scully, and Agent Dancer, your transfer hasn't been approved yet, but I'll see what I can do to push it through."

"Thank you, sir." Dancer practically saluted the guy. He was better at kissing up than Mulder could ever hope to be.

They left as a group, Dancer still holding Scully's hand and others noticing, whispering as they passed.

"You may wish you weren't associated with us." Scully warned him with a sigh.

"Never." he promised effusively, and Mulder almost threw up.

"I've got to get some air." he said suddenly, turning around and walking away from them.

"Mulder..." she called after him once, but he ignored it and kept doing.

"Space." Dancer's voice was in her ear as he leaned over her.

"Demons." she agreed.

"But it gives the whole thing credibility." Dancer added with a wicked grin.

By that evening it was apparent that the gossip mill had churned out the story, with an addendum to her relationship with Mulder.

Now no one thought she was sleeping with him (she supposed she was relieved that they didn't think she was the type to sleep around like that), now they thought she had *dumped* him for Dancer. There were a lot of reasons bandied about, but his moodiness and weirdness were the most oft-cited.

Now everyone thought she'd dumped Mulder for Dancer.   

There was a new pool set up...how long she and Dancer would last.  The odds were twice as good as they had been on her and Mulder.

And a whole new pot with wildcard odds: how long it would be before Mulder; a) got himself fired, b) killed Dancer or c) killed himself.

*b)* had the most takers, but c) was a close second.

part#5 ------ executed

*Three days*        

He went into his apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind himself, barely even shutting it. He needed to be alone, in the dark, so badly that it didn't matter. If a shadow government assassin walked in right now with a gun he'd welcome him and offer coffee.

If they drank coffee.

It had been three days since they began this subterfuge. Three days of watching Scully and Dancer at work. Three days of pitying looks and sarcastic comments in the cafeteria, three days of *time*.

Time to think, time to brood, time to understand that life as he knew it was over. He had a new life now, with more people to be responsible for. More people that could be hurt getting to him.

He didn't like this new life.

Didn't much want it.

But it was here, and he had to deal with it.

It wasn't so much the baby, he thought as he curled up on his couch, the only light in the room coming from the TV. It was knowing how badly a kid could be screwed up and how capable he was of doing just that. If there was ever a worse choice to become a parent, he couldn't think of one.

*Serial killers excepted, of course*.

The dark humor almost made him smile, but he crushed the urge ruthlessly. He didn't *deserve* to smile, not after what he'd done.

He should have left it alone.

When he'd found out the truth of what had happened between him and Scully on that road to New Mexico, he should have filed it in the mental box labeled 'to be forgotten' and left it there.

*Scully*.

How could something, someone so wonderful hurt so much, without even trying. She looked at him and nothing else mattered. Not Samantha, not his mother, nothing. *As long as she would look at him like that*.

But she didn't always. She was too strong, too savvy for that mistake. She gave him what he needed and then pulled back, made him work for the rest.

He couldn't live without her anymore.

That was one truth he hadn't wanted to find.

The couch was too warm, the room stuffy. He felt restless, shivery nerves edgy.

Sitting, he rocked, trying to calm himself.

Standing, he paced, short, hard steps that rang on the floor.

Against the wall he leaned, his head going back with a thud.  *Ah*.

That felt good. He banged it again, harder, the impact driving thoughts out of his mind, leaving it empty for the first time in days.

Bang. Bang. Bang. The sound was comforting, solid.

He'd done this before, he remembered. After Samantha was gone. When nothing else had helped.

Bang, bang, bang. A cloud of tiny paint particles sifted down as he watched the floor.

That had been a dark time and he'd been full of dark silence. His father ignored him, his mother sank into frailty, he'd been a boy alone, more alone than ever before in his life, and the pain had helped him survive it. Gave him something to feel; the cuts and burns and bruises defining his life off and on until he got out of that house.

*Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bangkf-!* The last sound wasn't a comforting *thud* but a dull, disjointed *crack* as the sheetrock gave.

With an effort he snapped his head forward, neck burning with whiplash, resting his chin on his chest, feeling the pain beginning to seep down from his abraded scalp to his tired brain, taking up possibly permanent residence there.

The pain that replaced the emotion he was afraid to feel now. As it had replaced the emotion he *couldn't* feel then.

His head was throbbing now, a deep black pain that blotted out the ability of thought. Stumbling, he half-fell onto the couch and closed his eyes, welcoming it.

Pain was something he knew. Something he understood.

If he could *do* this. If he could stand *this*.

He could deal with anything else that came.



"Hi, Scully."

Dana looked up as her partner and co-conspirator walked in. He was a little late, but maybe he'd gotten some sleep. She hoped.

He looked better. She got up from her desk, went to meet him, gave him a quick unofficial hug that he returned gently.

He hadn't touched her since they had started this charade. She leaned into it, eager for his warmth.

He held her for many long minutes, then pushed her gently away with a small grin.

"We've got to quit meeting like this."

"We haven't met like this in ages." she dared a small scold and was relieved when he smiled back, apologizing with his eyes, his mobile mouth, his hands stroking her shoulders tenderly.

"I know." was all he said.

"My first pre-natal appointment is this morning." she said  softly. He could hear how badly she wanted him there, and this  time he didn't shy from it, but agreed.

"Since Tango Tom is still out in Arizona I guess you'll just have to make do with your poor, pathetic partner." his self- mockery was firmly in place as he released her.

"Mulder." she sighed as she gathered her coat and purse. "You have never been pathetic. Patronizing, paranoid and pitiful I'll give you. But never pathetic."

He held the door and they walked out.

"Isn't pitiful the same as pathetic?" he teased gently.

As she responded in kind Scully rejoiced inwardly. He was better. Calmer, centered, really there with her. It was like he'd decided this was important enough to put aside his fears and live it.

She was so glad.

part#6 ------ learned

"Everything looks good, Ms. Scully." Dr. Hall said with a smile, leading a now dressed Scully back into her office. "Shall I call your partner?"

Scully's call to her office had come as a surprise, but she had been truly pleased to take her as a regular patient though her schedule was tight. "Mr. Mulder?" she opened the door at Dana's nod. "You can come in now."

Looking as nervous as an expectant father and trying hard not to, Mulder did, sitting next to scully. He checked his hand just before it moved to reach for hers.

Dr. Hall sat behind the desk, pulling out a scheduling book.

"Is the father -- Mr. Dancer, you said, right? - going to miss many appointments?" she asked in a totally non-judgemental tone. "If he is you'll probably want to pick an alternate for your childbirth classes."

"Mulder will do it." Scully said with a smile that taunted him. He groaned inwardly, running a hand through his hair at the thought, the slight tough causing a burst of pain from his bruised scalp. He concentrated on the pain as the women talked.

"Usually a woman picks her mother." Dr. Hall commented. "It's not always a circumstcance you want as part of a professional relationship." she was smiling kindly, trying gently to warn Dana that perhaps Mulder wasn't the best choice for this. He didn't look like he was willing to be here, much less *there* when the child was born.

"I'll do whatever Scully needs." he said shortly with a flash of the smile women cried for. Dr. Hall wasn't immune, her returning grin would've made Dana jealous under other circumstances.

"Okay, then." she said with a that's-settled look, going back to her book. "We need to get you in for a sonogram to determine exactly how far along you are, and we'll need blood samples from you and the father, if you want to do the basic genetic testing. I always recommend it." now she shut the book, looking at Scully seriously, reassurance in her eyes. "I believe it's always better to know ahead of time if your baby is carrying or will develop a genetic illness. It gives you information to make decisions with."

Dana glanced at Mulder, who was biting his lip, teeth caught on the full curve of it.

He shrugged.

"It might make you feel better about that other thing." he said hesitantly.

"Yes." her agreement left Dr. Hall feeling in the dark.

"Is there a possible problem I should know about?"

"No." they both said too quickly.

"If there is going to be a problem with this baby I need to know so I can make good decisions for both of you." the doctor persisted. Scully shrugged, arms around her belly, sitting straight.

"I had a strange experience a while back." she said softly. "I think something may have been - *done* - to me during that time...but there's no evidence of that."

Dr. Hall stared at both of them.

"You're not going to exlain that, are you?"

"Sorry." Mulder treated her to another grin with his shrug.

Okay, so she could get jealous under these circumstances, Dana admitted.

"Then I won't ask." the doctor stood, held out her hand, shook theirs in turn. "My secretary, Susan, will schedule your sonogram for you and give you the adress and dirrections to the lab I use. Test results can take up to three weeks, so I suggest you get Mr. Dancer in there as soon as you can." she paused with a smile. "You call me with any questions, Dana. Anytime. My service will put you through."

"Thank you." Dana was grateful. It had been a stroke of luck when she picked this name out of the phonebook.

"And you keep her from getting shot." Dr. Hall admonished Mulder.

"She'd the one usually doing the shooting." Mulder teased and Dana smiled, but frowned at his next question. "How long is it safe for her to remain in the field?"

"Until she's not comfortable with it or I'm not." Hall answered before she had a chance to object. She walked them to the door and stoppped as she opened it. "Does your Mr. Dancer have a first name? It helps to have something else to put in the record." it was said with mild amusement and Dana blushed faintly. Mulder grimaced.

"Ru." Dana said softly, giving a very good impression of a woman in love. "Ruarke."

"I didn't think anyone was actually named that outside of romance novels." Hall said with a laugh. "Susan will help you now."

The appointment made, they left.

Mulder rubbed his head a lot in the car. Scully wondered if he was getting dandruff. Noticing her curious glance, he said; "New shampoo. Think I'm allergic." and she smiled.

End of 'Walls 7'.
 

 
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