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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