What We Believe In

What We Believe In

SPOILER FIC FOR REQUIEM - WARNING

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(huggles if you already have read this at my site) (Damn. Haven't even started reading yet and already I'm denied HUGGLES. But, but, but I *wanted* huggles! I feel gypped.)

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Rating: Fluffy PG-13 (for references)

Spoilers: MAJOR REQUIEM SPOILER STORY post eps usually are! Archiving: Anywhere - Gossamer, just let me know! I wanna visit this one!

Disclaimer: I wish they belonged to me! He would be at her side if they did. Of course, they would also have a couple of kids by now. Also, the song is on Jim Brickman's "Destiny" CD. As always, not trying to interfere with anyone's intellectual or copyrighted property. Summary: Yeah, it's that long... LOL (I don't get it. If it were *longer* it would have a summary? Or it's as long as a summary? Or the summary is as long as those three dots? Yeowch. My head hurts.)

Notes: Thanks for waiting on me to find an XF ep that inspired me this much! Thanks to DD and GA for the work they do and for once, thanks to CC for letting them get close. Shippers Rule!!!!!!! (Shippers rule what? If it's some sort of strange island nation please let me know, because I don't want to go there for fear I'll be et.)

Feedback: YES! Please! AmandaKatherine@webtv.net

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**Prologue - at a hospital in Washington, DC

Special Agent Dana Scully (Ooohhhh, HER. Yeah. Okay.) was in tears as she looked at the man standing so distraught in front of her hospital bed.

"We will find him," she paused for a moment. "I have to."

As he turned to leave, she called out to the man, Assistant Director Walter Skinner... (Oohhh! Him! I get it. You mean "the stocky bald marine with kindness," don't you.)

"Sir, um..." she said, stumbling over the words. "There's something else I need to tell you. Something that I need for you to keep to yourself."

Scully took a breath, the sudden warm glow on her face a surprise to Skinner, as was the beginning smile. (The Beginning Smile surprised him. The Middle Smile terrified him. The End Smile killed him. Also: whose POV are we supposed to share? Or are we some sort of 3^rd Person Ridiculous? Okay.) He nodded his agreement, and she continued, her smile growing... (Please stop with the ellipses. I keep falling off the edge of the page, and my floor's hard.)

"I'm having a hard time explaining it... (Thunk.) or believing it, but, ummmmm.........." (THUNK. Those ellipses – actually, I think they're beyond ellipses and well into the realm of DOTS – sent me halfway across the room!)

She paused for a moment, smiling a beautiful smile, (According to whom? Ahh, vain Scully. Even at her weakest, she thinks, "I figure I'll smile a beautiful smile now. Just for kicks. Because this stocky marine Assistant Director Associate Producer Skinner is not half bad looking.") and with a voice full of emotion (Which emotion? WRT suspects nausea. Which is not really an emotion, but is forgivable considering the context.) said,

"I'm pregnant."

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**Six months later

A very pregnant Dana Scully nudged the door to the apartment open, her hands full of mail and a small bag of groceries. (In her HANDS? Man. Even juggling I don't think she could manage this.) She tossed the mail on the coffee table and put away the few things that needed refrigeration before kicking off her shoes and lowering herself to the sofa.

Glancing over, she saw the fish swimming happily in the tank, uncaring that their true owner, Fox Mulder (Ooohhh! Him! FOX Mulder. Excellent. I was hoping Fox Mulder would show up. I'd have liked it even more if Special Agent Very Attractive And Muscular Fox Mulder had come to visit, but then again, one can't have everything. I imagine that this Fox Mulder is a nice guy too. Maybe she'll tell us about him. Also – why the comma after "owner"? Plus, can anyone ever really "own" fish? If you love something, set it free. Scully should know this.) had been missing for six months.

But she cared, she cared very much. So much, in fact that she had taken up residence in his apartment, having her mail and calls forwarded in case he tried to contact her.

This was where they had spent their most personal time together, where she felt closest to him, and as hard as it was to be here without him, she felt it was the one place she belonged.

Turning on the stereo for some company, she quietly sorted the mail (Girl's got to have a lot of hands if she can sort the mail while turning on the stereo.) as the soft music drifted through the room.

Exhaustion soon overtook her, and she stretched out on the sofa, the bed was just too soft (Did you mean a semicolon or a period instead of that comma?) to offer her back the support it needed this far along in her pregnancy.

As she pulled the quilt over her and she felt his scent envelope (I think I once got a phone bill in his scent envelope. I scent it back with partial payment. WRT snorts. She's amusing herself, apparently, since this story ain't helping.) her, a song on the stereo caught her attention...

:Funny, just the other day, I was walking down the street,

:Stopped into that place, you know, the one where we used to meet.

:Thought I heard you call my name in a whisper on the wind,

:Then I remembered you were gone and never coming back again....

(Songfic With Ellipses. Sort of like Trial By Fire. But not much.)

Scully's eyes began to tear.

"He will come back to us, he HAS to," she whispered softly, resting her hand on the gentle swell of her stomach.

:But if love is what we believe in,

:I see you - in Heaven's first bright star.

:If seeing is believing,

:I look into the skies - and there you are

:You're not that far

:Cause love is what we believe in.

Her eyes drifted to the window (On Aladdin's magic carpet) and saw a bright star just above the horizon.

:Looking through some photographs of not so long ago

:Right now, I'd give anything if I had only known

:I would never touch you, hold you or kiss your face

:Feel your arms around me or fall in your embrace

Closing her eyes, she remembers the last time they were alone together...

"Here," Scully said, holding out the delicate chain that held one of her most treasured belongings (Don't use "held" twice so close together. I get confused. I'm slow like that.), her small gold cross...

Mulder simply stared at it for a moment, touched beyond words by the love and trust behind her action. (Mulder's beyond words and trust is behind Scully's action – soon they're gonna leap out and yell "Surprise! Happy Birthday, Baby Samantha!")

As he finally took it in his hand, he smiled at her. (He took the love and trust in his hand? Was it sticky?)

"I will come back, Scully. I promise."

She looked down, less sure of his words than he.

"I know, just don't be gone long."

Tilting her face up, he lowered his lips to hers as he whispered, "I won't. I love you too much.."

:But if love is what we believe in,

:I'll see you - in Heaven's first bright star

:And if seeing is believing,

:I'll look into the skies - and there you are,

:You're not that far

:Cause love is what we believe in...

As the song continued, Scully drifted off to sleep, her heart crying out for its other half... (But, um...if Scully's asleep, who's listening to the next part of the song? There's someone in the house! An intruder! Help! Save the fish! Save the fish!)

:Now love can break your heart,

:When you say goodbye...

:But love is worth the pain, and all the tears you cry...

The door softly opened then, and seeing the small figure sleeping on the sofa, a figure approached and knelt beside it.... (See! I *knew* it was an intruder! This is a whole new literary pursuit: Intruder POV. How 'bout that?)

:And you are in my heart

:And our love is what I believe in.......

As the figure reached out to brush an errand strand of hair from her face, Scully's eyes burst open... (BURST OPEN? Oh my god ouch. And the innocent FISH had to see that. Little eye-bits splashed all over the walls. YUCK.)

"Oh my God.... Mulder!?!?" she cried, her voice breaking with emotion.

Mulder grinned slightly as he said, "Hi honey, I'm home... What's for dinner?"

Scully laughed then, the joy in her soul too strong to be contained a moment longer. As she reached up to take him in her arms, the quilt slipped gently past her rounded abdomen, a movement not missed by Mulder.

"Scully?" he asked incredulously, his hand hovering over her stomach, as if afraid to harm her by even the slightest touch...

"Yes," was her only answer as she took his hand and gently pressed it to her, a small movement below their joined hands a sign their child knew something extraordinary had occurred.

"Yes sweetheart," she said in response to the slight kick the baby had given her. "Daddy's home."

As Mulder picked Scully up and carried her to the bedroom, he kissed her again. They both knew there were questions to be answered, problems to be solved. (But what about dinner? Mulder asked for dinner! Woman, get back in there and make me a sandwich! Would it help if I called you "bitch"?)

But they also knew that, right here, right now, some miracles didn't need to be explained... (A very wise woman, known as the Wicked Witch of the Yukon, said pithily "yes they do." And, oh, was she right. Well jumpin' gee-whillakers, I'm a-waitin' on the sequel! I sure hope the fish get treated better, though.)

END :o)

Amanda Katherine 5-22-2000

Ratings

Evilness Rating:

It's really so hard to say. Because the general barrage of post-Requiems, minus a couple notables, has been unabashedly evil. This one is not really any more or less evil than the median, but the Mulder Ex Machina certainly knocked this one down a point or two. More on that later.

Who *Are* These People?:

You know what the better question is? Who the hell CARES who these people are? Since there's no plot for this story, and only the vaguest attempt at alluding to the beautifully-smiling Special Agent Dana Scully and some guy named Fox Mulder, it really doesn't matter who they are. This has nothing to do with the X-Files we know, or, ahem, The Truth Is Not Here.

I Speech Goodly:

Despite the fact that this Dear Author has never learned about POV, the grammar was better than bad. I want to take her in for Ellipses Clinic, however.

I R A Gud Speler:

It's really a sad day in Mudville when the spelling in this actually makes me HOPEFUL for the state of badfic. Girl used a spellcheck. Good for her.

Gak-o-Tron:

Even the fish drowned in all the gak. But, you know what? The GAK wasn't even used to its potential! I mean, if you're going to have Scully mooning and pining over lost Mulder, you might as well live it up, babe. INDULGE in gak. This was TAME gak. *sigh*. What a waste.

Laziness Quotient:

I have some things to say. Namely: if you're going to introduce these characters as "Special Agent Dana Scully" and so forth, as if the author doesn't know 'em, then it stands to reason the characters and their motivations should be introduced TOO. Either you take the acceptable fanfic shortcut of assuming your readers know the subjects, OR you back up like it's professional fic and explain the characters as if to readers who have never met them. On ALL counts this fic copped out. I know nothing about these characters but their names. Lazy, lazy, lazy. *sigh*

...And your point was?...:

Obviously to try and get in on the post-Requiem bandwagon. Since there's not another redeemable explanation for this fic.

Wild Card

Tundra sez "Deus Ex Absolutely Nothing": 5

Here we have a story with no redeemable characteristics whatsoever. And I'm the kind of person who sees the market for shows like "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" and for bands like Hanson. These things, while commercial and gak-worthy, have their place. They do the job they're SUPPOSED to do.

This story could have been a weepy, nostalgic gak-fest. Scully could have mourned and wept. I'd have hated it, but at least it would have been SOMETHING.

OR. Mulder could have come back some mysterious way. Aliens. Krycek. CSM. Goddamned STARLIGHT, for Pete's sake. Any lame explanation would do. I'd have hated it, but at least it would have been SOMETHING.

The song could have been used, mulled over, integrated. Songfic for songfic's sake. Scully could have chewed her hair and thought at length about how this song spoke her life. Again, I'd have hated it, but at least it would have been SOMETHING.

Alas alack. Don't quit your day job, dear author. You might hate it, but at least it will be SOMETHING.