#sam and scully
The fourth series reads as follows:
Apple Balancing…Potential…The Newbies…The Dessert…Dinosaurs and Cannibalism…Sassy Sprinklepants…The Secret Vault of Mudlerness…Taco Night…Neckhole Wrestling…The Onesie…Multiplication…Catching On…Thanksgiving…The Funeral…Midnight Libations…Stockings were Hung…Mama Walter…Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Skimmer-style)…Official…Memory Lane…Tartan Tablecloths …Auntie V
To catch up: First series…Second series … Third series
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He woke her with a Sno-Ball and a smile, “happy happy birthday!”
His voice was quiet but she was startled awake anyways, giving him a blurry, confused look before she knocked him to the ground, stepping on his hand in a slow attempt to find the empty trash can that now lived beside the bed. She found it in time to puke but not in time to tighten her bladder enough to keep from peeing in her pajamas.
Luckily it wasn’t much but mortified, she tried to scoot herself to the toilet while still throwing up in her bucket, all the while Mulder sat quietly on the floor, mortified as well that he’d done this to her while simultaneously fascinated that she could move and vomit at the same time, knees pressed together tightly.
Picking up the smashed Sno-Ball, he collected the crumbs and was eating the dessert when she returned to the bedroom, giving him a cranky look while she went to retrieve dry underwear and pajama bottoms. Once changed, she continued her cranky look as she took her clothes back to the bathroom and rinsed them out, dropping them in the tub to be washed in the washer in a little while.
All the while he watched, wondering when his words would sink in.
It took another two minutes, Scully standing in the doorway, attempting to comprehend English, before she realized what he said and her frown softened, her eyes darting around the room, “you ate my Sno-Ball, didn’t you?”
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Sam shared Scully’s birthday, right down to the hour, just 22 years off. Scully and Sam always shared a lunch or dinner, then shopping for toys or video games or books, movie afterwards, ice cream chaser. It had been a tradition since year one and who was Mulder to interfere.
Besides, he had his own plans for the following weekend, planned down to the lunch and dinner reservations, baby-sitters, jacuzzi hotel rooms, and king-sized beds.
Alone for the day, Sam was the perfect gentleman, sharing his popcorn, holding open the door, offering to carry her coat while they were shopping and the bag once they were done. He even had the calm, rational demeanor to call an ambulance when she collapsed in the parking lot, landing in a frozen puddle, head cracking against the side of the car on her way down.
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“Mulder. The doctor said I’m fine.”
“You may think you’re fine but I vote for you keeping your ass in bed until the babies are born.”
Oh, good God, she could just imagine being trapped in an apartment with hovering Mulder for the next three months.
One of them would be dead.
She debated if she would be charged or if the ‘insanity by bedrest’ plea would hold up in court.
Probably not.
“How about we talk to the doctor again and let me look at the chart, okay? These kids are top priority but we’ve quarantined together how many times now? Do you remember what happens around week three?”
That was usually when she began discussing Einstein and trying to teach Mulder science.
He hated week three.
Week four was usually when they weren’t speaking and week five was endless card games and when Mulder stopped weighing himself given all the junk food he’d eaten.
Week six was usually their ‘get out of jail’ week but given the babies wouldn’t be due for six more weeks after that, “okay but I want in on this conversation.”
“Of course.”
An hour later, Scully looked at Mulder and Mulder looked at Scully as the doctor, a man they actually trusted, walked out of the room. “You’ll have to bring me our old case files, the cold ones. Those’ll keep my brain from going to mush.”
“I think I have some vacation time left but not enough to cover ten weeks. I’ll have to see what I can swing with Skinner.”
Curiously, “are you taking the time off with me?”
“Somebody’ll need to take care of Will.”
“I can get up for that.”
His voice held some kind of weird authority that normally would have had Scully handing in her letter of resignation, both for previous job and current husband, “you’re getting up to pee. That’s it.”
“Mulder.”
The authority was gone, replaced by the man who occasionally came to her, finger in the air, asking for her to remove a splinter, then squinched his eyes shut tight as she did so, “we need to do whatever possible to keep these kids in there as long as we can. You may go crazy, I may go crazy, everyone may go crazy, but if that’s what it takes, that’s what we do.” Meeting her forehead with his, “I can’t lose any of you.”
With a deep sigh of resignation and a half-hearted fist swing through the air, “This will be our best quarantine ever!”
“I think I heard sarcasm in there, young lady.”
“The people down the hall heard the sarcasm.”
Quick kiss later, “Mulder and Scully, together again.”
