Subj:    another story to archive
Date:    9/29/00 11:44:04 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From:    PennySyc
To:    NeverAgain4X13

TITLE: Shifts of Fortune

AUTHOR: Leslie Sholly

E-MAIL: PennySyc@aol.com

DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere automatic, sure! Everyone else, keep the headers intact and let me know if you can so I can visit!

RATING: PG-13

CLASSIFICATION: VRA

KEYWORDS: MSR, ScullyAngst

SPOILERS: Requiem

SUMMARY: Scully and the Lone Gunmen share good news and bad.

DISCLAIMER: Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 own these characters; no infringement is intended.

FEEDBACK: Cherished and responded to at PennySyc@aol.com (Leslie)


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Shifts of Fortune
by Leslie Sholly
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The shifts of Fortune test the reliability of friends."

Cicero
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm still in shock when I hear the hesitant knock at the door of my hospital room.

"Come in," I call.

It's Frohike, Byers. and Langly, who drove me to the hospital and have no doubt been waiting anxiously outside my door while the tests were being run.

"Hey, Scully. How are you feeling?" Frohike's voice is gentle, without its usual leering undertones, and he moves to the bed and takes my hand in his. Byers and Langly move closer, too, both looking at me with evident concern, and I'm surprised to feel my throat tighten. I guess I should start expecting to feel more emotional for awhile.

I suddenly realize that the Gunmen really care about me. Not as some sort of extension of Mulder, not as a comrade in arms in the battle against the global conspiracy, but as myself, Dana Scully, their friend.

It feels good to be cared about. Seven years of an increasingly obsessive devotion to the search for the truth have cost me much, and by no means the smallest loss has been the experience of friendship. In the abstract, I still believe in the trustworthiness and kindness of the human race, but on an individual basis it's grown harder and harder for me to put my faith in anyone. The close friends I once had were left behind long ago, unable to share in the journey I've taken or to understand the world I now inhabit.

Grateful for companions who care about me, whom I can trust without question, I beam at them. "I feel fine--really."

They return my smile tentatively, then Byers ventures a question. "The fainting--the dizziness--it wasn't anything serious?"

I really don't want to share my news at this moment--not with anyone, even dear friends. I'd like to keep it close to my heart for a few days, to process it and to cherish it before sharing it with the world. And, of course, I'd like Mulder to be the first to know. Imagining his reaction when I tell him brings another smile to my face.

But the Gunmen are worried about me--probably concerned, as I was until just a few moments ago, that my cancer has returned or that my chip is being tampered with. I can't leave them to languish until Mulder and Skinner return. They deserve an answer.

"It's not cancer," I tell them, and they all relax in obvious relief.

"Do you think the chip has been causing your symptoms?" Byers asks.

"No--no, it wasn't the chip. There *is* a physical cause, but you aren't going to believe me when I tell you what it is."

I can't stop smiling. The shock I felt initially is quickly being replaced by joy, and it's exciting to be making this announcement. After all, this is one bit of news I never thought would be mine to share. "I'm pregnant."

The Gunmen are three very different types, so it is comical to see such similar expressions of astonishment appear on their faces. It doesn't take 30 seconds, though, before the wheels in their paranoid brains start to spin.

As much as I trust Frohike, Langly, and Byers, I never envisioned myself sharing the details of my sex life with them. But I can imagine all too well what horrors are going through their minds right now, and I know I have to put them out of their misery quickly.

"Guys," I announce, blushing furiously and cursing my Irish fairness, "Before you start worrying that I'm being used as an incubator for a Consortium experiment, I should tell you that there have been plenty of opportunities for this baby to have been conceived in the ordinary way."

Now it's the Gunmen who are blushing. Byers is the first to recover and to offer me his hand. "Please, allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Agent Scully."

Frohike embraces me, and Langly grins and pats my shoulder awkwardly. "Does Mulder know?" he asks.

"No. No--I didn't know myself--I never suspected--because I thought it was impossible. I--I want to tell him right away. Have you been able to reach him yet?" Although they've been waiting in the hospital with me, I'm sure at least one of them must have been attempting to contact Mulder and Skinner.

The guys trade uneasy glances, and the wave of dizziness I feel has little to do with my pregnancy. "What is it?" I demand.

"Scully--I don't want to upset you," Frohike says helplessly.

"You're already upsetting me!" I hear my voice rising and fight to stay calm. "Don't start treating me differently now, Frohike. I need to know what's going on."

Obediently, Frohike begins, and I hear him as if from a great distance. "I reached Skinner shortly after we arrived at the hospital. He and Mulder were in the forest looking for the craft. Mulder disappeared into the craft's energy shield and moments later Skinner saw the craft fly away."

"Skinner saw it?" My voice is little more than a whisper.

"Yeah," Frohike confirms, tears of sympathy rising in his eyes behind his glasses.

The last vestiges of my skepticism have dried up and blown away, eluding me as I try to clutch at them for protection, wanting to pretend that Mulder is just lost in the woods somewhere. But, for better or worse, I'm a believer now, and when I saw the medical records of the Bellefleur abductees, this is the event that I feared.

I sag back against my pillow and sink into misery for a moment. Mulder is gone--gone right out of the world! How am I even supposed to begin to look for him now? Am I destined to search for him as he searched for Samantha? Am I going to endure pregnancy, birth, and parenthood alone? Is Mulder suffering, dying, waiting for me to rescue him?

Shuddering, I force myself upright and bury those thoughts and emotions deep inside. Now is not the time for me to be Dana Scully, lover of Fox Mulder and mother of his unborn child. It's Special Agent Dana Scully whose expertise is needed now and I must draw on her strength if I'm to make it through this.

"Where's Skinner?" I ask briskly.

"On his way," Langly volunteers.

"Good. Send him in when he arrives. Don't tell him anything--I'll take care of that."

They nod, plainly relieved that I've gotten myself together, that I'm taking charge instead of becoming hysterical.

"We have to get to work right away," I tell them. "Skinner will help with the Bureau angle--we'll treat it as a typical Missing Person case. If he's dumped from the ship ill or with memory loss, we'll be able to find him."

"We'll monitor hospitals and emergency frequencies," Byers says.

"You'll need to hack into the DOD network, of course."

"Will do," says Frohike. "Now that we know how to recognize it, if the craft comes down into our airspace, we'll know about it."

"As soon as they let me out of here, I'm going after Marita, Krycek, and the Smoking Man," I say. "I'll try to find out if they have any way of contacting the aliens, or know of anyone who does."

The guys nod approvingly. We continue our strategizing session until I think all the bases are covered. My eyelids have been drooping for some time now, but I will not give in until I'm sure I've done all I can do for Mulder from here.

Finally, I say, "I think that'll do it for now. I know you need to get started, but while I'm off my feet and unarmed, I think I'd feel safer if one of you stayed at the hospital."

Frohike nods. "I'll take first watch." When the other guys leave, he stays in the room.

"Scully," he says, looking at me intently, "If there's anything I can do . . ."

"I think we've got it covered for now."

"I don't mean for Mulder, Scully. I mean for you."

His kindness threatens to break through my defenses and I bite my lip.

"You sent Skinner to take care of Mulder, but Mulder asked me to take care of you. Anything you need--anything at all--you ask me, you let me know--and it'll be taken care of." I nod and smile as best I can. Frohike embraces me before he leaves.

And now that Special Agent Dana Scully has done all that she can for the time being, I can bury my face in my pillow and cry, as I pray for the safe return of the man I love.

THE END


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