TITLE: All That Matters AUTHOR: aRcaDIaNFall$ FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au RATING: PG-13 SPOILERS: Detour, *possibly* All Things... nothing you'll recognise unless you've seen the ep already. CLASSIFICATION: MSR, babyfic, some A in there just for fun SUMMARY: Sequel to 'How Loved'. The night isn't over yet... --> http://www.geocities.com/arcadianfalls// All That Matters by aRcaDIaNFall$ A couple of hours until dawn. I hear whimpering from the crib but the baby quietens again before I can get up. I lay there, glad not to be dragged from the warm comfort of my bed. Mulder is beside me, his lanky form stretched out. He seems so peaceful as he sleeps and I prop myself up on an elbow to watch him. There's a space between us in the bed, as though he thinks he should keep his distance. He's probably right. To allow ourselves to get too close would be an invitation to temptation. It's too soon. We're taking it at our own pace. More whimpering, and now the first bleating cries of what promises to keep me pacing for the next hour. I pull out from under the covers, climbing across Mulder and off the bed, lifting William from his crib, hushing him. "What's the matter, sweetie? Huh?" I can hear Mulder waking up, and I hear his socked feet as he pads across the carpet. His arms are slid around my waist, holding me tightly, both of us still warm from the bed. He rests his chin on my shoulder and I feel the soft pressure of his lips against my neck. "I love you." I smile. His affection warms my heart, thrills me. He seems so young, so innocent and warm. This is a Mulder who has been trying for years to get my attention, the romantic schoolboy so eager and passionate, so willing to dedicate himself. I lean back in his embrace, closing my eyes briefly. He kisses my neck again, nips my ear, but then he releases me. "I'm hungry. You hungry?" I nod in assent. He's right to pull away. We're not lovers, not in that way, not yet. These sorts of moments belong to other people. The bundle in my arms is quiet but already getting heavy. I move to the bed, wincing as I climb up, still sore from the labour. I'm settled cross-legged with my back against the pillows when he returns. I smile when I see what he holds, a tub of icecream in one hand and a spoon in the other. He climbs onto the bed, sitting beside me, mimicking my pose. "You had a freezerful of this stuff, all the same flavour. Cookies and cream." I smile sheepishly. "Cravings." He peels off the lid and digs in with the spoon, but the icecream is frozen solid as a rock. I bite back a giggle as I watch him trying to drill with the spoon, trying to dislodge even just the tiniest amount of icecream. "Mulder -" "Wait, I can get it -" He's playing up, trying to make me laugh with exaggerated groans as he tries to prise the icecream out. I shake my head, amused. "Give it some time to defrost, huh? You're bending my spoon." He gives me a pouty look, but jams the lid on the icecream tub and puts it and the spoon aside. As he turns back to face me, I understand his motive for the silliness. He's nervous. Of all the emotions I've read in him this evening, there hasn't been nervousness, til now. He leans closer to peer at William's face. "He's asleep, huh?" "For the moment." Pulling back a little, he seems to consider something. "What's his middle name?" I gaze at him, not sure how he'll react. "John," I tell him quietly. "William John Scully." "John after Agent Doggett?" I nod, a little nervous myself at where the conversation is leading. I know there was friction between Mulder and Doggett. I don't know how much of it has been resolved, yet. "Without him helping me out, I would have lost this baby, so many times." I look up at him, breath held as I wait for his response. But he smiles. "It's a good name," he says quietly, reaching out to touch William's socked foot. I nodded, silently thanking him for understanding. He clears his throat. "I just wondered if maybe it would be Walter." He raises an eyebrow to indicate that he's kidding but it's not funny. Tired anger stirs inside of me. "Why do you keep doing that?" "What?" "Joking around. Acting like you're not sure." He manages to look everywhere but me. I wait and he finally brings his eyes to my face. "I'm not sure," he admits. "From your hints, I'm assuming..." "A baby is born a day short of nine months after we make love and you're not sure?" I don't know if I'm angry or just sad. "Mulder, you're the only man-" "You were barren, Scully. Even if it is me-" I'm hurt. That I do know. "It is. There's no question there, Mulder. I can't believe you're even doubting it." "But how, Scully? You were examined by doctors. You know what they found. You were barren, unable to conceive, and yet you have, you've given birth. Doesn't that make you wonder?" "Of course it does, Mulder! I'm not stupid. But... Look at his face. This is your son, yours and mine. No matter how 'special' or not he is, that should be all that matters. We made life together." His jaw is set. I can see the emotion churning inside him. He climbs off the bed and moves over to the window, looking out. I watch his back, waiting. Finally, he turns to face me. "After me made love... You left. Then the next time we saw each other you didn't say anything about it. I thought maybe you were afraid that we'd made a mistake, or that it was just something that had happened and you'd already put it in the past. Then after you brought me back from the dead, when I found out that you had this baby growing inside of you... I didn't know what to make of it. I didn't know if it was mine, and you just didn't say." My heart thumps heavily in my chest. "I thought you knew." He shakes his head slowly, and shrugs. "I didn't." "I'm sorry." I wish that he'd come closer, that I could hug him, but he hangs back. "If you had told me, if I'd known, I would have been there, Scully. I would have done everything for you. I would have taken care of you instead of letting you put yourself in stranger's hands. But I didn't think that I was wanted. You acted as if the baby was yours and yours alone. I guess that was what made me doubt. If you'd only come to me, Scully, I would have helped you more. I would have taken care of you." I feel myself choking up with tears and I nod, not trusting myself to speak, wishing with all my heart that I had said something to him, that I hadn't acted so selfishly. Why hadn't I made it clear to him, invited him to experience the pregnancy with me? Some sort of subconscious selfish desire to have this child all to myself, this child I'd longed for? Or had I been afraid how he would respond to the news, afraid that he wouldn't know how to deal with it so soon after his ordeal? That was fear for myself as well as him. Burying him had been the hardest thing I'd ever done; trying so hard to let go of him, to move on, to keep going when all I wanted was to feel his heart beating against mine... And to have him back again -? Even now it seems like an impossible dream. Am I afraid to allow him so close for fear of losing him again? "I'm sorry," I whisper pitifully. A tear falls and splashes on the soft fabric of William's jumpsuit. I hold my son closely against me, tired, overwhelmed by the questions and uncertainty. Mulder comes closer, climbing onto the bed on his knees, reaching to lift my chin, guilt in his eyes. "Don't cry, Scully. Don't.." He starts to smooth my tears away with his thumbs, hushing me, and at his tender touch I only cry more. I could have had this sort of exquisite comfort during those dark hours of my pregnancy, those days miserable despite Mulder's recovery, because I sat alone in my apartment and he in his. I sigh shakily, trying to stop my tears, calm my emotions. One hand still around William, I reach up to cup his cheek, drawing his face close to mine, kissing his lips. Then I drop my head, tired, and he puts his arms around me, rubbing my back. I've flown through the past days, running on adrenalin, high on loving my son and being loved by Mulder. But this brings me down to earth. It won't all be sympathy and helpfulness and sweet kisses. We're only human. There's going to be times when Mulder would rather sleep than go to his crying son, when I'll push Mulder away when he tries to kiss me or not take the time to just watch him changing a diaper, because things will get complicated. And still, I love them both, so much. Because they're mine. Mulder draws me onto his lap, not trying to kiss me, just holding me, warm and secure. For now, that's all I want. I'm tired. I lean back in his embrace, eyes closed. "I should have told you earlier." He's silent. He won't disagree with me. I half-smile. His fingertips brush my hand and I open my eyes, gazing down as he folds his arm around me, over mine, and gently strokes his son's face with the backs of his fingers. "I shouldn't have left, that night we made love. I should have waited til morning, and said something." "What would you have said?" I shrug. "I don't know." I draw a breath and think for a second. He deserves an answer. We should have discussed this long ago. "I guess I would have just made sure you knew that I didn't think what we did was wrong. I should have told you how much I loved you, that that was what that night was about. That we conceived a child - this child - that night... it just blows my mind. And when I found out that I was pregnant, all I could think was how badly I wanted to tell you, and I couldn't." My throat starts to tighten up again. Mulder seems to sense the emotion returning and he starts to hush me again, burying his face in my shoulder, his grip around us still so certain, so comforting. I gaze down at William. He's awake, staring up at me with those beautiful blue eyes, forehead puckered in a frown. Despite the frown, though, he's calm, safe. Kids know whether they're wanted or not, whether they're loved. This little boy must surely know how badly he was wanted, how intensely he is loved. We sit there for several minutes, quiet, content. William watches me innocently, as though waiting for something, but he too seems content in the stillness. After a while his eyelids flutter closed again and he seems to sleep. I sigh, almost too exhausted to move, not wanting to. Then, in the silence, Mulder starts to sing. So quietly, his breath on the back of my neck. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog... was a good friend of mine..." I giggle tiredly, overwhelmed with affection for him. "Mulder -" He chuckles. "Never understood a single word he said.. but I helped him drink his wine..." His hand still rests on mine and I lift it to my lips, kissing it lightly, loving him so much for everything he does for me. I release his hand and ease myself off his lap, passing him William. He takes the bundle carefully and looks up at me as I stand. "What's up?" I bend down, laying a kiss on his lips and then drawing back again. "Stay here." It takes longer than I thought it would. He's coming out of my bathroom as I return to the bedroom and he gives me a sheepish smile, lifting William out of the crib, wrapping the blanket around him. "I had to pee," he says in explanation. I smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take so long." I take my hand from behind my back and offer him the gift. He looks at me, eyebrow cocked. "If it's all the same, I'll just have juice," he deadpans. I shake my head, knowing he's just teasing, and wave the bottle in his face. "It's for the baby, smartypants. I thought you might like to feed him." He grins widely. "Really?" He's touched by the action. I'm glad. I want so badly for him to be happy. He must have been watching me closely, because he very conscientiously moves back against the pillows, settling the baby in the crook of his arm. Taking the bottle from me, he angles it, bringing it to William's mouth. William pulls away at first, but Mulder talks to him quietly, and soon enough he's sucking away, eyes on Mulder's face. Mulder's grin couldn't get any wider. He's overjoyed. "Wow, hey? Wow... Daddy can do this too. Yeah..." It's the first time Mulder has referred to himself as 'Daddy', I realise, almost overcome by the beauty of it. I just watch, so full of love for father and son, not wanting anything to ruin this moment. The icecream is melting. The moisture frozen on the outside of the tub has melted and as I lift up the tub I discover the wet ring of droplets left on the carpet. I pull the lid off and dig the spoon in cautiously. It's soft, starting to puddle. I dig into the soft mountain of icecream and sit on the edge of the bed to offer it to Mulder. He takes the spoonful, savouring it before swallowing. "Good stuff." He grins. "I can almost understand why you've got two hundred pounds of it." I swat at him, having a spoonful myself. It literally melts in my mouth. Eating icecream with Mulder at five am. Somehow it doesn't actually seem so crazy to me. I feed him another spoonful. He gets some on his lower lip, and pretends he doesn't notice. I laugh, loving his transparency. I lean closer, flicking out my tongue to lick it off and swallowing it down, tipping his chin upward to kiss him properly, feeling somehow shy but also safe in my actions. It feels good to kiss him. That's all I can think, how good it feels. William has had enough. He pulls away from the bottle, starting to cry. I realise too late what's about to happen and Mulder gets splattered with spit up. "Ewwwwwwwww, hey? Whaddya do that for, buddy?" I get to my feet and take the baby from him, grabbing a blanket from the crib and getting it in place before he sicks up again. I start to pace with him, rubbing his back, holding him one-handedly as I pause to grab a towel and toss it to Mulder to clean himself up. William finally seems to settle and falls asleep. Though I love holding his tiny warm body, I let him down into the crib, tucking him in carefully and turning to face Mulder. He's standing now, wiping at the milky stain, and I just watch him, wondering if I will ever experience such a perfect night again. He feels my eyes on him and stops, tossing the towel down. He meets my gaze. His eyes are dark, serious but not sombre. For a few moments we just look at each other. I wait for whatever is on his mind now. "I would do anything for you," he says softly. "I need you to know that." I smile, gently, not wanting him to think I'm dismissing him lightly. "I know that." That beautiful, exhilarating electricity is in the air. But this time there won't be a baby between us to hold us back. I know that as I approach him. This will be a different sort of intimacy, freer, scarier, something as personal and intensely private as the night our child was conceived. I reach out to touch him, to finger the soft, worn grey fabric of his t-shirt, one that has been through almost as much as its owner. Now, there's a wet spit up stain just above Mulder's heart. I tug at the hem of the t-shirt and then pull it up over his head, turning only slightly to toss it in the hamper. He's shirtless now but it's his face I look to, standing on tiptoes to cup his cheeks. I run my hands over his face, over his lips, his jaw, tracing, caressing. His eyes are closed, his dark eyelashes fluttering. I love his face so much. I love *him* so much. He's letting me take my time, but as I finally bring my lips to his he's more than ready. It gets intense, fast. I feel swallowed up in him, his hands, his lips, his breath, his eyes. We're both so frantic, so full of emotions kept bottled up, almost desperate in our need to love other. Somehow, a coherent thought manages to wriggle its way though the warmth and grab my attention. I'm not ready. I pull back from him, out of breath, knowing the truth of the sudden revelation. I want to make love to this man, but not yet. Emotionally, and especially physically, I'm not ready. "It's too soon." He runs his hands through his hair and expels a breath. He nods. "Yeah. You're right." We stand in sheepish, awkward silence, only a foot apart. I need to do something, to show him what I hadn't told him that morning nine months ago. I step closer, cradling the back of his head, drawing him close to me. I kiss his forehead, then his lips, a gentle, lingering kiss. I love you. I lay a hand on his bare chest over his heart, my eyes closed. I'm yours. William starts to cry. I stay still and Mulder leans in to kiss my forehead before pulling back, going to the crib. I watch him pace with the baby, barechested, hair and sweatpants rumpled, his socks slipping off him. He's at home, here. The tub of icecream still sits on the bed, melting. I take it into the kitchen, returning it to the freezer, pausing a moment in the living room just to give myself some space. I did the right thing in stopping us. I know it, though I regret it. Already, William has stopped crying. Mulder seems to have the magic touch. I watch as he paces, then move closer, bending to pick up the blanket. It's slipping from around William, one corner dragging. I wince at the unexpected stab of pain. "You okay?" I nod. "Still sore." He's concerned, sympathetic. Baby firmly in one arm, he reaches down to pull the covers back for me, helping me climb into bed. Enough talking and kissing for the night, he seems to have decided. He's right. We both need rest. I wriggle across, and he climbs in next to me, cautious with the baby still in the crook of his arm. He sits with his back against the pillows and beckons me closer. Feeling too tired almost to keep my eyes open any longer, I gladly snuggle up alongside him, resting my head on his chest, sleepily kissing William's socked feet. I almost advise Mulder to put the baby down so that he can get some sleep too, but I stop myself. He'll do what he wants. This is his baby, too. I'm going to have to learn to hold back a little, to let him play his role. "'Night, Mulder," I whisper sleepily. He chuckles at the irony of it. The sun is coming up, outside. "'Night, Scully," he murmurs, sounding sleepy himself. "'Night, William John Scully." I yawn, letting my eyes close, my body relax, so warm and snug and safe, almost laughing as I think over the night. It felt like an eternity. A good eternity. One I think I can quite easily live through again tomorrow night. "It's dawn," I whisper, opening my eyes to look up at him. But Mulder is fast asleep. I smile, closing my own eyes again, listening to the two sets of steady breathing, and I let myself sleep. fin.