Title: "The Visit"

Author: Gina (feretopia@aol.com)

Date: July 20, 2001

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Category: DA, UST, DSR (somewhat), MSR

Spoilers: "Existence," "Empedocles," Season 8 in general

Archive: Anywhere, just ask and give me credit.

Summary: Doggett brings over a gift for baby Will, but a bit of a
surprise is in store for him.

Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, Doggett, Will (the baby), Reyes, Luke
Doggett, and any other XF character I might have mentioned  belong not
to me but to Chris Carter, 10-13, and FOX.  I only use them for good,
clean, non-profit fun.  (Angie, however, is mine, until such time as
CC decides to delve a little deeper into Doggett's past.)

Author's Note: They'll probably show something vaguely like this scene
in the Season 9 premiere.  That's not stopping me from writing it
ahead of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


John Doggett raised his fist to the door and knocked.

He wondered, anxiously, if he should have come.  He shifted his weight
from one foot to the other, repositioned the small box he carried
beneath one arm.  He steeled himself for what he was about to do.

A baby's wail rent the air.  "*Will* -- who is it?"  The woman's voice
carried clearly through the door, and he swallowed.

"It's Agent Doggett," he said loudly.  "Look, I shoulda called -- if
it's a bad time, I can leave --"

But the front door was swinging open.  Dana Scully stood in the
doorway, wearing a t-shirt, sweatpants, and a broad smile.  In her arms
was a tiny infant, wrapped in a blue blanket and fussing quietly to
himself.  "Good morning."

"Uh, good morning, Agent Scully --"

She interrupted him before he could say anything more.  "Please, call
me Dana.  Hardly anyone does, and I worry that Will is going to think I
always go by 'Agent Scully.'"  She let out a short laugh.  

"Oh, okay, Agen -- um, Dana.  I just stopped by to see how you an'
the baby were doin'," Doggett said, strengthening his grip on the box.

"Well, come in.  You don't have to stand out in the hallway," Scully
said warmly.  She stepped aside and he walked into her apartment, then
stopped dead as she shut the door behind him.

Cardboard boxes were piled against the walls, two and three deep.  Some
were open, their contents spilling out; others had been duct-taped
shut.  Various objects littered the floor, t-shirts, books, and sheets
of paper among them.  Doggett turned a questioning gaze to Scully, and
said quizzically, "You movin' out?"

"Oh, those."  Scully looked embarrassed; instead of meeting his eyes,
she looked down at her baby.  "No, um, I'm not moving out. . . .  It's
the, uh, other way around, actually. . . .  You see --"

He suddenly realized what she was getting at, and closed his eyes for
a moment.  "Muldah's movin' in," he breathed.  He stared at her, but
she was busying herself with adjusting the baby's blanket.  Her silence
was more than enough to affirm his statement.  He looked determinedly
down at the ground, breathing a little harder than he had been a few
minutes ago.

They were both very quiet.  After a few moments Will let out a soft
cry, and Scully rocked him slowly back and forth.  "Oh, Will, what's
the matter?" she said quietly.  "Don't fuss, now. . . ."  She held him
up a little and looked at Doggett for the first time since he'd come
in, smiling nervously.  "Say hello to your Uncle John."  The baby
cooed up at him.

Despite himself, Doggett smiled and raised his eyes to Scully.  "I'm
Uncle John, huh?"

"Well, what else do you tell an infant?  'Say hello to Mommy's friend,
Special Agent John Doggett of the FBI?'  No, I think I'll stick with
'Uncle John,'" Scully laughed, at ease again.  She suddenly noticed
the box under Doggett's arm.  "What's that?" she asked, shifting the
baby in her arms.

"Oh, it's . . . it's somethin' for Will," Doggett said, the child's
name coming out awkwardly.  "Just some toys. . . .  Thought he might
like 'em when he gets a little older.  I, uh, don't exactly need 'em
anymore. . . ."  He bit his lip, blinking rapidly.  He didn't know if
he was doing the right thing; he felt as if he was committing a grave
betrayal.  He took a deep breath.

"Here, let me put Will down to nap, and I'll open your gift," Scully
said suddenly.  She bustled out of the room and Doggett sat down
apprehensively on the couch.  A few moments later, Scully came back,
"Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" following her.  She sat down beside
him, and he gave her the box without a word, wondering fervently what
her reaction would be.

Scully pulled open the box's flaps, revealing what was inside.  She
was quiet, reaching into the box and pulling out the objects within.

She withdrew a red tyrannosaurus rex first; she examined it carefully,
then set it on top of the coffee table in front of her.  Next she took
out a green brontosaurus, then a Matchbox car.  They joined the red
dinosaur on top of the table; soon another brontosaurus, a pterodactyl,
and several more cars littered the table's surface.  

Scully continued to pull toys from the box.  Five big, rubber bugs.  A
tin of plastic green army men.  A dogeared Dr. Suess book.  At last she
removed the last object, a stuffed Curious George monkey.  The little
red hat the monkey wore was adorned with the initials "LD," written
in permanent marker.

Scully turned tear-filled eyes to Doggett, who was staring at the pile
of toys on the coffee table, a wistful, saddened statement on his
face.  She reached out and put a warm hand over his.  

"Thank you," she whispered.  He looked up at her, his eyes slightly
reddened.  She squeezed his hand firmly.  "Thank you . . . Uncle John."

"You're welcome," he said, his voice almost inaudible.  He was staring
at the ground again, wanting only to go home.  The cheerful-looking
apartment with open boxes everywhere had become oppressing.  He was
suddenly, irrationally, afraid that he would cry.  He ran his free
hand over his face, exhaling heavily.  She gripped his other hand more
tightly.

"Uh, I gotta go," he mumbled to the floor.  "I'm supposed to be meetin'
Agent Reyes -- got a new case --"  It was a lie, but he couldn't stay
there a moment longer.

In the next room, the baby let out a piercing cry.  Scully jerked her
hand from Doggett's and stood.  "Excuse me," she said, and rushed out
to the other room.

Doggett took this opportunity to get up off the couch.  He reached out
to the coffee table and took the Curious George in one trembling hand.  
With his other hand he tucked the monkey's cap more firmly onto its
head.  He stared at the stuffed animal, then gave it a painful smile,
his vision blurring.  

In the other room he heard Scully's voice, shushing the baby to sleep.  
The forced smile on his face faded.  He let the monkey fall back onto
the table, then hurried across the room and let himself out into the
hallway.

He had just come out the doors of her apartment building and stepped
onto the stairs leading to the street when he nearly collided with
someone.  He had been looking at his feet as he walked and hadn't seen
the other man.

Doggett looked up, about to apologize, and realized who he'd almost
knocked over.

Fox Mulder.

The man had a large box in his arms, which his eyes were just able to
peek over.  "Sorry, I -- Agent Doggett?" Mulder said, surprise evident
in his voice.

"Yeah, it's me, Muldah.  Hi," Doggett said uncomfortably, averting his
eyes.  Part of him was furious, jealous, embarrassed; part of him just
wanted to get the hell out of there.  Away from Scully and her new
baby.  Away from the man moving in with her.  Away from the happy
little family that had no room for him.  "Uh, I've just been to see
the new arrival," he muttered.

Mulder nodded, his brow furrowed.  For a moment neither man said
anything.  Then Mulder grunted, "Got to go.  Heavy, you know --"  And
he continued on his way.

Doggett stared after him, then closed his eyes and swallowed hard,
breathing very deeply.

***

Mulder shoved the door open, using the box in his arms.  He walked into
Scully's apartment -- his apartment too, now, he realized suddenly --
and dropped the box onto the ground, his arms shaking.  "I *knew* I
shouldn't have packed the aquarium in the same box as the complete
works of Dickens," he groaned.  

He looked around.  Scully was sitting on the couch, bent over slightly.  
Mulder raised his eyebrows; had she even heard him come in?

He shut the door behind him, and walked forward.  He stopped at the
back of the couch and leaned over it, kissing Scully on the cheek.  She
jerked away, then looked up at him.  "Oh!  Mulder, you're home," she
said, looking surprised.

"That a bad thing?" he remarked, raising an eyebrow.  He grinned.  "Is
Will asleep?"

"Mm-hm," Scully murmured distractedly.  "I just got him back down."  
She looked down at the coffee table, which was covered with small toys.

"Where'd all that come from?" he asked, motioning toward the table.

"It was a present," she said, sounding subdued.  "From Agent Doggett."

"Yeah, I ran into him on the way up.  A present, huh?"

"Yes."  She reached out and took a stuffed monkey off the table.  On
the monkey's hat were the letters "LD."  She handed it up to him,
saying quietly, "These were some of his son's toys."

Mulder examined the monkey in his hands, nodding, feeling heavy-
hearted.  For the man to give up memories of his son like that, he
must've had a damn good motivation. . . .  Mulder realized suddenly
why Doggett had been so stiff with him a few moments ago.

He looked up, still holding the monkey.  "Scully, you told him I was
moving in, didn't you."

She shrugged, looking up at him, her statement one of regret.  "He
guessed.  It's not as if it wasn't obvious, with all these boxes
everywhere."  

Mulder sighed.  He'd known that Doggett harbored strong feelings for
Scully; he'd known it since Scully was hospitalized for a ruptured
membrane, and her nurse told Mulder, "Honestly!  If it's not you, it's
that other fella, sneakin' in whenever he thinks I'm not looking.  He's
been here every time I've gone on duty. . . ."

Mulder frowned, then spoke, his voice soft.  "This. . . ."  He made a
sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the toys on the table.  "It
was very kind of him.  And . . . very difficult, I imagine."  

Scully nodded, then said quietly, "I could see how much it hurt him to
give those up, especially after learning about you . . . he left as
soon as I went to check on Will, without even saying goodbye."  She
bit her lip, then said, voice full of pity, "He's a good man."  

***

Doggett opened his bedroom closet door and pulled out the large box
resting on the floor.  He bent over and opened it, then sat crosslegged
on the ground beside it.

He reached into the box and withdrew a large, framed family portrait.  
He stared at it, noting the smiles present on Luke and Angie's faces,
on his own.  It struck him how long it had been since he'd truly
smiled.  

Doggett set the portrait down beside him and pulled out the next
object, a Christmas card emblazoned with the same picture.  "Happy
Holidays from the Doggetts" was the caption.  His eyes watered.

He placed the Christmas card atop the portrait and took out a small,
left-handed baseball glove.  Along with Doggett's ears and smile, Luke
had inherited his lefthandedness as well.  Doggett closed his eyes,
thinking back to the days when he and Luke would head out into their
tiny backyard, and they'd play catch.  Admittedly Luke had hardly any
hand-eye coordination, but that hadn't stopped the two of them from
having a good time playing.

He remembered the time Luke had dived for a grounder and broke his
wrist, causing Angie to go into hysterics.  He remembered when Luke
accidentally let go of the bat as he was swinging, and the bat had
collided with Doggett's chest.  He had a funny-looking bat-shaped welt
on his chest for three days.

Suddenly he realized tears were running down his face.

Doggett wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, swallowing.  
In the space of a year he had lost everything that mattered to him.  
A few months after Luke's murder, Doggett lay in an unfamiliar motel
bed while Angie sobbed to him over the phone.  Too many bad memories,
she said.  I can't stay in this house a day longer, John.  And you're
always working.  I never see you anymore.  I can't make it without you
now that Luke's gone.  John, I can't live like this.  I can't make it.  
John, I can't . . . I can't. . . .

He remembered the way his signature came out so shaky and weak on the
divorce papers.

And now that he was finally beginning to accept what had happened,
now that he had finally found another woman he could love, all his
hopes were dashed to pieces by a man who should, by all rights, have
been six feet under.

Abruptly Doggett grabbed the portrait and the card and stuffed them
back into the box with the baseball glove.  He closed the box's flaps
and shoved the thing into the closet, slamming the door.  The sound
echoed through the empty rooms of the quiet house.  

He stood up.  His chest was heaving; he was nearly panting.  He stared
at the closet, tears still in his eyes.  His face was twisted, ugly
with pain, and Doggett turned away.

***

Scully was jolted awake at three in the morning by Will's angry
scream.  Mulder, beside her in the bed, mumbled groggily, "Your son is
hungry."

"*My* son?" Scully yawned.  "Mulder, move your arm, I can't get up."  

But Mulder was already snoring again.  Scully sighed, then struggled
out from beneath Mulder's arm, threw aside the covers, and stumbled to
Will's crib.  She gathered him into her arms and went into the dark
living room, where she sat heavily onto the couch and turned on a lamp,
yawning again.

She pulled her robe open and let the hungry infant get his fill of
milk.  At last his tiny head drooped against her breast, and his eyes
closed.  Scully stood to go put him back in the crib, but something on
the coffee table caught her eye.  Supporting Will with one arm, she
reached out with the other and grabbed the object.

She shuffled back into the bedroom and laid Will down in his crib.  
Beside him she placed the Curious George she had removed from the
table, nestling it against him.  Will made a small noise of
contentment, and she smiled down at him, her eyes sad.  "Goodnight,
Will.  Sleep tight."

~FIN

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