“Mulder…”Tears spilled from Scully’s eyes

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to be cold or ungrateful.” He leaned heavily on the desk and tried to ignore the lack of dust. “I just... I have no idea where I fit in. Right now. I just, uh... I'm having a little trouble... processing... everything…” *Like a dead molly*, he thought.

Scully cried at him for a few moments in silence and he wished she’d stop. When she did so at the thought, he promptly wished for a million dollars and some plastic surgery. Neither one happened, but Scully moved forward and touched the side of his face. She frowned when he flinched but didn’t cry anymore, for which he was grateful.

“I know, Mulder. God, this all must seem so—so—“ She hesitated, looked for something in his expression, must have found it, and finished, with just a hint of a smile, “—so alien.”

He laughed a little at that and then returned the hug she gave him a little awkwardly.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” she asked, hands automatically going to her distended stomach as she stepped away from him. He nodded, not sure at all. At least with Scully here, he could be overwhelmed by completely different fears. If he was alone, then he might be the one who couldn’t stop crying.

Much as Scully had been unaware of cradling her unborn child, Mulder’s hand wandered over the livid scars on his cheek almost instinctively, causing Scully to sigh.

A knock at the door startled them both. Seeing Scully scared was the only thing that kept Mulder from bolting from the room.

“Who is it?” he called out, moving towards the door and blocking Scully without thought.

“Skinner.”

One word in a surly growl and Mulder sagged, almost fell; despite a small selfish voice clamoring at her to feel otherwise, Scully couldn’t find it in her heart to begrudge Mulder that relief. Not after all he’d been through.

If loving Mulder meant watching him love someone else; if it meant being the best friend and not the lover; if it meant letting Walter Skinner back into her life after she’d so brutally cut him out when Mulder had been returned to them, well…

She’d never been one to shirk her duties, be it work, family or friends; she wasn’t about to start now.

Not particularly agile, but still a few weeks from an awkward waddle, Scully quickly sidestepped Mulder and opened the door.

Skinner still knew how to fill a doorway, Mulder thought. He’d obviously come right from work, as he was still suit-and-tied-and-trench coated. In one hand he carried a slim black briefcase, and in the other hand he held a grease spotted brown bag that had Mulder grinning moments later.

“Wa Sun?” he asked.

Skinner smiled back tightly. “Of course. Your favorite.” His focus never left Mulder. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Scully turned away from the men, reaching for her purse where she’d left it on the couch. “I should go. I told mom we’d—I mean, I’m probably—“

Skinner was still looking at Mulder, who was in turn looking at Scully with some mixture of sorrow and fear.

“Scully.” Skinner’s low summons made her freeze, hand not quite clutching her keys so that they immediately fell to the floor.

Skinner stepped into the room, did a final assessment of the situation and dropped his briefcase in order to scoop up Scully’s keys. Now he looked at her, and their entire history flashed in his eyes, making her feel beautiful and ugly at the same time. He put her keys in her hand and kept his own big paw wrapped around them.

“Why don’t you stay?”

Skinner didn’t need to look at Mulder to see the warm smile blooming on his face. He just continued to stare at Scully, silently willing her to put Mulder first, this one time. There’d be plenty of time for the two of them to hash out their issues with one another when Mulder was stronger.

Mulder didn’t know what might have gone on between his lover and his best friend in the last six months, and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know. All he could do now was smile tentatively at the two most important people in his life and dig something rusty and unused called ‘hope’ out of his heart and see if it still worked.

Scully could hear John Doggett’s mocking voice so clearly in her head that he might have been standing right beside her. ‘Give a little, get a little, Agent Scully’. She took a sidelong glance at Mulder, a fraction of a second that he didn’t even notice, then turned her attention and a small smile back to Skinner.

“I’d love to.”