TITLE: Meant To Be Chapters 8-9/10
AUTHOR: Jen
EMAIL: JenR13@aol.com
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Mine? As if.

Chapter 8

It had to be bad. We were in a rental car, driving to New York. A car rented 
with aliases, and we were most definitely not leaving a paper trail behind 
us.

"Mulder, what the hell is going on?" I felt as if we had moved so fast that 
a cloud of dust could seen behind us. I heard him sigh and grip the wheel 
tighter. "Mulder."

"My 'accident' Scully. I kept trying to tell myself it was an accident, but 
someone's toying with us."

"You always think someone is toying with you Mulder--"

"No, Scully, I'm right about this," he interrupts, his voice determined. 
"You couldn't conceive before, we should have seen it right there-"

It was my turn to interrupt. "Wait a minute, Mulder, there are such things 
as miracles-"

"Scully, I know about your strong Catholic roots, but this is far from the 
story of Elizabeth suddenly conceiving a child after years of no success and 
age against her. You always talk about science and face it, Scully, science 
was against us."

I was silent. I sat, taking in what he had just said.

"What did your OB say when you talked about your infertility, Scully?"

I turn to look at him, thinking for a moment. "She said that mistakes can be 
made and be grateful."

"Yeah, about your test results."

"Perhaps I had a sudden regrowth-"

"Of thousands of eggs, healthy and just waiting for sperm to create 
thousands of babies."

"What are you talking about, Mulder?" I suddenly jerked his hand, causing 
him to jam on the brakes. Thank God from the nearly empty road. I knew that 
I had no idea what he was talking about. My doctor had simply said that a 
regrowth of a few eggs was explainable, but what was Mulder talking about?

"Mulder, I need an explanation."

Another sigh came from him. "Scully, that OB, that doctor of yours, is 
lying. According to a report that Gunmen got their hands on you could easily 
populate a small city. We could have a very large and very healthy family."

I was suddenly breathless. I could hear Mulder pulling over to the side of 
the road and eventually my door being opened. I looked to find Mulder's eyes 
staring into my own.

"I found out last night."

"That the kind of thing you should share, Mulder."

He takes my hand and placed it on my stomach. "Well, the result is worth
whatever happened."

I begin to wonder what else he found out the night before. "Mulder, what 
else did the Gunmen tell you?"

Another sigh. That is beginning to become the trademark that comes with back 
news. "We're being watched, Scully. More than usual. Whoever 'gave' you back 
the ability to conceive is lurking. Maybe for payment. But if it's our 
smoker behind this, I'm not sure what the hell he wants."

"The baby's healthy, Mulder. Normal. What could they want with it?"

"I keep wondering, Scully. They perhaps that result of those tests you had 
done were doctored as well. It's our baby, yes, but what else could be-"

"I still worry about that, too, Mulder." I do worry about it. About how this 
baby could turn out like Emily. However, I kept convincing myself my fears 
were unfounded. Until now. "Mulder, we _made_ this baby. Us. Not some 
laboratory."

"I can't help but think that us becoming a couple was just an added bonus to 
our plan. That you getting pregnant because of a night we spent together was 
just an added convenience; they didn't have to kidnap us to accomplish."

"That's very paranoid, Mulder. Even more then usual."

Mulder gives me a grin. "I love you. I want things to be okay, Scully. I 
want, for once, everything to be okay. I never thought I'd say this, but for 
once, I wish I was something boring like an accountant, living in a little 
white house, in a little town in the middle of perfect suburbia."

"You'd get bored. I'd get bored."

"You're probably right." Giving my hand one last squeeze he closes my door 
and climbs back into the driver seat and pretty soon we're back on the road 
toward a destination that could bring unknown disaster.


3 days later
Upstate New York

The cabin was nice, definitely a quiet vacation spot. The Gunmen had planned 
well; the place was well stocked and belonged to a subscriber of theirs who 
turned out to be a doctor in the Big Apple. Of course, I think his wife is a 
little wary of the fact that her husband has such connections. However, Mark 
and Judy Andrews, as they introduced themselves when we arrived, we there to 
stay with us. Both Mulder and Byers had agreed that since I obviously 
couldn't seek medical help if something went wrong during the birth, a 
doctor could come in handy. Especially when I learned Mark was an OB. I 
could pry. I could. But I'll save that for the car trip home.

The place has enough medical supplies to deliver ten babies, if you ask me. 
Mulder is just a tad overprotective. Almost immediately after arriving, he 
has Mark examine me. Then I sat down with a lot of information I got from 
Mulder. Then I saw it all.

The test results revealed the fact that I was a perfectly normal female. A 
piece of information that would normally have me up dancing for joy now had 
me suspicious and nosy. They seemed to be dirty fingerprints all over every 
test I had performed during my pregnancy. My own doctor had referred the OB 
to me. However, I now had photocopied prove that Dr. Rebecca Johnson had 
entered into a deal with someone for a great deal money. And though the 
details were sketchy it seemed that the answer was simple - information 
about me was the exchange. I saw the appeal of the money that could help 
further a growing practice. Still, the ethics of medicine had gotten lost in 
the shuffle.

This was all three days ago. I had been pondering this all for three days. I 
have a week and a half left till my due date, but the baby has definitely 
dropped. It seems that I'll be delivering before my due date. I have to 
admit, though, I think I'll miss being pregnant. After having a human being 
inside you for so long, I started to think about what it would be like after 
he or she was gone.

She. I wanted a she. I was still stuck on Anne. However, Mulder's insistence 
on Elizabeth was beginning to wear me down as well. Mulder was in love with 
calling a little girl 'Beth' and I hate to deny him a pleasure.

But it is me that will be delivering this child.

And that is something I will not have him forget.


The countdown - 9 days to go

"False labor, Mulder. I can happen with the first pregnancy."

I am only trying to tell him that for the eightieth time. Mark gave up and 
went back to bed after it had been determined there was going to be no baby 
tonight.

"Are you sure?"

Mulder had turned into a nervous father. He was an example of those fathers 
you see on TV that can't find their keys when their wives suddenly go into 
labor. Oh, of course, there was one difference. I wasn't his wife.

Judy had been trying to sell me on marriage. It wasn't that I wasn't sold on 
the idea, but that I didn't want anyone to think Mulder and I had just tied 
the knot because he 'knocked me up.' We loved each other and that was what 
mattered. I think.

"Do you need anything, Scully? Anything?"

Another thing that Judy and Mark picked up on was how Mulder and I still 
call each other by our last names. We tried to explain, but somehow it was 
an inside joke that only we understood. I couldn't call him 'Fox'; he would 
call me 'Dana' on occasion but it still seemed like a foreign word from his 
lips. I'd always be 'Scully'; he'd always be 'Mulder.'

"Mulder, I'm _fine_. For the thousandth time, I'm _fine."

"Don't you think that's getting a bit old, Scully," Mulder teases me and I 
hit him on the shoulder, before preparing to get up. That's another thing. 
Petite as I am, it's getting harder and harder to get up. I will not miss 
that little bothersome 'adventure' after this baby's delivered.

I change the subject as a serious thought crosses my mind. "Mulder, have you 
gotten any 'new' information?"

"From Frohike?"

I nod.

"Nothing. They seem to have hit a dead end. We may have thrown them off
course, Scully. I think they want something with the delivery. After we get 
past that, we should be home free."

"What makes you so sure about that."

"I got a theory." He flashed me another grin.

I give a little laugh. "Like I haven't heard that one before." Walking into 
the bedroom, I expect to hear Mulder's footsteps on my heel. Instead I heard 
them retreating.

"Mulder?"

"Just going to check my e-mail, Scully."

"This late?"

"Theories don't know what time it is."

Of course, after that comment, I know I'll find asleep at the computer the 
next morning.


8 days to go.

I didn't find Mulder asleep at the computer the next morning. Instead I 
found him sitting on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Mulder?"

"Someone has tracked us to the rental agency, Scully. But Langly said that 
luckily they found a barren trail after that."

"The baby-"

"Right, Scully. You have to have that baby. The sooner the better. Before 
they pick up the trail again."

I stop to let his words set in.

End Chapter 8/10

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

Chapter 9

"Are you sure you want to do this, Scully?"

"No turning back now, Mulder."

If it had been six years ago, I would have believed Mulder was completely 
paranoid and completely nuts about me having this baby as soon as possible. 
Of course, it wasn't six years ago and I wanted to go back to my apartment.

I also wanted to be able to get out of a sitting position without any 
difficulty.

The moment I had calmed down about my pregnancy, I had read every piece of 
literature ever written on the subject. One interesting piece of text was 
one I'd heard about but never truly looked into. It was the 'natural' ways 
to induce labor. I had thought they were a load of crap.

And nine hours later, I've decided that while they may work for some women, 
they did _crap_ for me. All I gained was embarrassment and comments from the 
peanut galley of Fox Mulder.

So, now here I was, sitting up against about five pillows, in the room 
Mulder and I were staying in. I had a fetal monitor up, an IV in, and an 
angry OB, against a Pitocin-induced labor for no medical reason.

I then learned just how persuasive Mulder's seeming paranoid mind can be 
when it comes to crisis. Mark was still against it, but seems to be looking 
over his shoulder every five minutes.

As if someone would come into plain site.

What am I saying? Do I think someone is going to take this baby from me?

Whoa, I better not answer that one.

I wasn't all together happy about the prospect of inducing labor, myself. I 
had wanted to have this baby the natural way. I'd go into labor, Mulder 
would freak out, we'd go to the hospital and hours later (I wasn't even 
thinking about labor pains) we'd have a little baby.

What was I high on when I thought that concept up?

I was most definitely not looking forward to labor at this point. Despite 
the fact that Pitocin can take hours to work (or not even work at all - I am 
not going to think about that situation), the contractions are more rapid on 
onset (quoting a textbook there, Dana?) and can be more intense. Not to 
mention the greater chance of needing a C-Section.

I was most definitely _not_ going to think about that.

Yes, right now I am going to think about the end result -- a little baby, 
soft and sweet. And I don't even care if it's a boy or girl.

Okay, maybe I care a little.


11 hours later.

Okay, now I definitely don't care if it's a boy or a girl.

I just want it _out_.

Since I was having this labor induced I had decided that I wouldn't use any 
drugs, hence make this birth somewhat 'natural'.

Once again, _what_ was I thinking??

It's wasn't so bad at first. Then one contraction hit and well, without an 
x-ray, no one can prove I broken Mulder's hand. Surprisingly, though, he's 
still here, coaching me, nursing an ice pack over very swollen knuckles.

Yet, I still want to use every curse word known to man. Ironic world, huh?

The contractions are getting closer together and I can't wait for this whole 
thing to be over. I suddenly have this urge to call for my mother (who, by 
the way, is going to be _pissed_ when she finds out I had this baby without 
her presence nearby) and have her kiss it better.

"Is it too late to say that I've changed my mind?" Shit, did I just say that 
sentence out loud?

I hear Mark. "I think so, Dana."

I did say it out loud. Score one for weakness, Dana.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? Pretty soon you'll be at the point of 
no return. It's just full speed ahead from there, Dana."

"I know." Breathe. Think back to the Lamaze classes. I get a mental picture 
of Mulder's shock at the childbirth video we had to watch. Geez, after 
everything we've seen, I would have never guessed childbirth would make 
Mulder jumpy. "And no." I look at Mulder, who is trying to hide the pain 
from his hand from me. He smiles.

"Hey, just hold out a little longer. You're doing great."

His words, though sincere, don't mean a crock of shit to me at this moment.

"Easy for you to say."

I should be more compassionate, perhaps, as I think back an hour to Mulder 
declining painkillers himself, but hell, I'm in labor. And it hurts.

I had asked my mother about the actual labor. She was in labor for 36 hours 
with Bill, and by the time she got to Charlie she was down to an 8 hour 
labor. Well, 8 hours passed for me, and I am praying it's not going to be 
36.

Another contraction hits me, and I look for something to grab onto. I closed 
my eyes, and was ready to gab air when I feel a familiar hand latch onto 
mine. I open my eyes and was surprised to see Mulder's good hand holding 
onto mine.

I was never more in love with him as at this moment.

The contraction eased and his eyes look into mine.

"Scully?"

"What?" I'm sweaty, unattractive, in pain, and not the most happy camper at 
this point.

"Marry me."

"What?" I stare at him for a couple of minutes. "Mulder, I -"

Of course, another contraction interrupts me. I hear Mulder's voice through 
it, though and as the pain eases once again, I try to think about what he's 
just asked me.

Mulder asked me to marry him.

What am I going to say?

He's still looking at me, and I know he wants an answer. Then before the 
next contraction hits, I smile at him.

"If I get to pick the name."

"No way!" he murmurs and goes to kiss me.

A contraction interrupts him, however, and it's more intense this time.

"Beth is the perfect, name, Scully."

"So . . ." Breathe. "sure . . . it's . . . going . . . to . . . be . . . a 
girl?" After all this, it better be a girl.

"I have a theory on this, Scully. The Gunmen are running 2 - to - 1 odds on 
it."

"Don't make me laugh, Mulder."

"I'm not." I can picture the pout as I close my eyes against another 
contraction. They are coming closer.

Hopefully it won't be much longer.

17 hours into labor.

Not much longer, my _ass._

Mulder's words stopping being comforting and staring becoming annoying about 
four hours ago. That was when, Mark had told me "looking great, the way 
you're dilating, it shouldn't be much longer."

Then my dilation slowed.

Now it's stopped and has been that way for the last hour.

My medical mind is worried. The baby is going nowhere. I'm not dilated 
enough for this baby to be delivered. I can't have a C-section in the middle 
of a cabin - this is not a hospital.

I am getting scared.

After another exam, I could see Mark getting worried.

Great, just what I need. The OB freaking.

"It's just 2 more centimeters, Mark. Give it a little time. Maybe the baby 
will drop." Another contraction hit and I wanted to push.

"You can't push. According to the sonogram, the baby's head is never going 
to fit even if he or she dropped. There's no choice but C-Section."

Shit. I glance out the window. The slightly overcast September sky has 
turned dark, as if predicting the turn of events. Mulder has turned to talk 
to the doctor himself, asking questions like 'how the hell are we going to 
do this' and I think back to why we're having this baby now in the first 
place.

What if 'they' catch up? I still am unsure about who 'they' is. As I look at 
the stormy sky, it seems like a trail of smoke has inhabited the clouds, 
turning their usual white gray. Smoke . . .

Another contraction comes. This baby wants out and it's not going to happen 
the natural way.

I want my mommy.

I glance back out at the sky. I need everything to be okay.
I need 'Beth' to be okay.

Did I just say 'Beth'? Mulder's name has attached itself to my brain. But 
hell if I'll name a little boy 'Andrew.'

I hear rain start to fall against the window panes.

End Chapter 9/10