Title: The Dangerous Side Effects of Body Switching
Author: Jeri

Summary: Title says it all
Rating: PG-13 for adult situations and controversial topics
Category: SRA
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance, Mulderangst
Spoilers: Dreamland I/II, and other itsy-bitsy ones

The day my world turned upside-down started out as a long-awaited Friday. I nearly pranced into the office, secure in the knowledge that I was going to shock the hell out of my partner. See, we finished a case on Wednesday, May 19, and Friday was going to be our paperwork day. But I took the initiative Thursday night and did all of it. This way I could get her out of that stuffy basement. I had scored two tickets to today's game at Camden Yards. Baltimore versus New York: A wonderful American League rivalry.

So I waited in our office, feet up on my desk, sunflower seeds crunching between my teeth. Finally, I heard footsteps coming towards the door. I grinned and waited for her to open the door.

She did, and her face was one of great annoyance. "Morning, Mulder," she mumbled. She saw my expression of glee and groused even more. "Jesus, Mulder, how can you be so happy? It's..."

"Friday!" I interrupted happily.

"...paperwork is what I was going for."

I shook my head, my smile refusing to budge. "You're wrong, Scully. Today, we're going to have some fun." I held up my hand to prevent her from speaking. "Last night, I was informed that I could use two of Danny's Orioles tickets. Since I knew you wouldn't go with all of our delightful paperwork incomplete, I raced back here and did it all last night. I stuffed it in Skinner's mailbox, and you can go with me." I sat back triumphantly, knowing by the look of shock on her face that I had won.

Before she could respond, the phone rang. She picked it up tiredly. "Scully."

I could only hear her end of the conversation, but I knew it was Skinner thanking us for the early report. When she hung up, she turned to me and smiled. "Okay. Let's go!"

We left the basement, and I explained my plan. "We'll go back to your place in my car. I have a change of clothes already. You can change, then we'll go to this cute little diner for breakfast, then head to Baltimore. Sound good?"

Scully looked up at me, a sparkle in her eye. "Sounds great."

We made our way through the Hoover Building, on our way to the parking garage. But on our way, we ran into a woman who would more or less ruin my life.

We hadn't seen her in a few months, not since Spender got us back on The X-Files: Kersh's secretary, Deborah Cullinan.

She walked towards us, and I planned to giver her a friendly nod. I've always been nice to the 'administrative assistants,' just because they do a tough job. Especially when Scully and I are involved. But instead of just walking past us, she grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side of the hallway.

"Agent Mulder, we need to talk," she whispered urgently.

I had no idea what her intentions were, but I had a schedule to follow. "Um, I can't talk right this moment, Debbie. What's this about?"

She looked around, obviously paranoid about something. "I can't talk about it here. It's personal." She then stared into my eyes. "I need to talk as soon as possible."

Her voice sounded pained, and I realized she really, really needed to get something off her chest. I looked over at Scully, and she seemed to understand my qualm.

"I'll meet you at the station, Mulder," he said, coding her words so as not to flare any rumors. I nodded, and she continued walking to the garage.

Motioning to Deborah, I said, "Come on down to my office."

We made our way to the bowels of the building, and soon I closed the door behind us. "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Debbie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant. And I'm almost 100% sure you are the father."

Before I continue with the plot, I must take this time to make some clarifications. I have absolutely no memory of having sex with Deborah Cullinan. Never in my entire life. And I never would, because my heart belongs to Scully. Even though Debbie would later recount our single time together, I cannot grasp the idea of cheating on my partner. It doesn't matter that Scully and I have never done anything; sex with any other woman would be cheating.

Now that that's cleared up...

Debbie's shoulders seemed to relax after getting the words out. Mine, however, tensed. "Um, I'm sorry Debbie. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but we've never, uh, had sex."

Her head shot up, and her eyes flashed with anger. "Oh my God. You know, I debated whether or not to tell you, but I decided that since it is your baby, you have the right to know about it! I expected you not to want to be part of the whole process, but I didn't think you'd be a big enough jerk to deny that that day ever happened!"

For a moment I felt guilty, but soon common sense regained control. "I'm not trying to get out of anything. I honestly don't remember anything happening between us. Are you sure it's me who's the father?"

"My doctor figures I conceived around December 13. That's the day after we had sex. You brought me back to your apartment during my lunch break. As I left, your partner was walking down the hall. To see you, I assume. Just ask her; she gave me the evil eye."

I racked my brain. Why didn't I remember that? "Look, let's not argue about that until we make sure it's me. I can get a DNA test done on Monday, if you want. I'm sure we'll find it's someone else, and then we can forget this whole thing ever happened."

She looked a bit doubtful. "Actually, my doctor has already taken a sample for the test. I'm expecting the results this afternoon. I also sent over one of your samples that Kersh had on file." Her voice softened as emotion took over. "Look, I was hoping you'd come down to her office with me. At least so that Jenna knows that I've got someone looking out for me. If you aren't the father, then I'll let you get back to your case, and I'll take the blame for keeping you away."

I thought about the baseball game, and realized that Debbie really needed my help right then. The Yankees would be in town for two more games, and Danny had season tickets. I made my decision. "Okay. I'll go with you. Just hang on so I can make some phone calls."

She agreed, and I called Danny to switch the tickets, and then Scully to ask her if tomorrow was okay. She accepted that, but I could hear in her voice that she was disappointed. I wanted to tell her what was really going on, but unless I really somehow was this baby's father, I had no right to talk about it.

Once my schedule had been cleared, Debbie and I headed for the doctor's office. There was no conversation between us on the Metro ride. As I thought and thought about this odd situation, I began to feel a bit guilty that I didn't remember our little encounter. I mean, she said Scully knew she had been there. And Debbie wasn't the type to sleep around. If Debbie was right, I decided to ask my partner what she knew.

We arrived at the office ten minutes before her appointment. I felt very uncomfortable waiting in an OB-GYN's waiting room. Strange women kept throwing meaningful looks at Debbie and me, and it took all my strength not to try and correct them.

Finally, twenty excruciating minutes later, a nurse called out, "Deborah Cullinan?"

Debbie stood to acknowledge her name, then turned to me. "You coming or not?" since I'd dragged my butt all the way down there, I also rose and together we walked to the doctor's personal office.

Five minutes later, a woman in a plain white lab coat walked in. "Hey, Debbie. You're here for the test results?"

"Yeah. Jenna, this is a, um, friend of my, Fox Mulder. Mulder, this is Dr. Jenna Scott."

I did my best to smile sincerely. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Scott."

"Same here, Mr. Mulder. Well I won't make small talk. The DNA from the baby matches, with only 3% possible error, to the sample you gave me. That man is the father."

I gaped. I had no clue how this was possible. Not caring how big of a jerk I looked like, I stood up and almost ran from the room, already wondering how I could explain this to the Gunmen.

"You did what?!" cried Langly, adjusting his black frames on his nose.

"I don't know!" I groaned, sinking into the only sanitary recliner in sight. "The DNA test said that I'm the father. But...I can't remember ever...you know? Do you have any idea how this is possible?"

Frohike shook his head. "My friend, it's about time we had that chat about the Birds and the Bees..."

Langly smacked Frohike over his head. "Shut up, idiot." Then to me, "Give us some more info. When did this encounter supposedly take place?"

I blinked hard to keep tears of frustration from spilling over onto my face. "Um, I think she said around December 13. The twelfth, actually."

Byers, who'd been quiet all evening, spoke up. "That's it. Morris Fletcher."

As the other two guys began to make connections excitedly, I continued to sit in my state of confusion.

"That's right. They didn't remember anything."

"And Scully did seem to be more annoyed than usual."

"Well, sure, he tried to seduce her..."

That last comment cut through my haze. "What? When was this?" I demanded, jealousy surging through my veins.

The boys stopped chatting and stared at me.

"Well, Mulder, I guess it's time you knew about this..." said Frohike.

Byers took over. "Remember when you went to Nevada? To Area 51?" I nodded. "Well, you think that nothing happened; in fact, you and Scully had quite an adventure."

I raised an eyebrow, a habit I learned from Scully. "That so? What kind of adventure?"

"Hear us out, Mulder. We have tapes to back us up. Something happened out there that caused you and one of the Men in Black to, um, switch bodies."

Before I could guffaw, Frohike retook the floor. "We had no idea, and neither did Scully, until this man, Morris Fletcher, tried to, er, deflower the lovely Agent Scully. It was then that she realized what was going on, and she brought him here."

"So what was I doing all this time?"

Langly shrugged. "Living the MiB's life, we guess. Once we figured out how to switch you back, we also realized that no one out there would remember any of this stuff. That obviously has proven to be true."

I nodded, knowing that they wouldn't make up something like this. "Okay, I believe you. But that still doesn't change the fact that someone used my body to do the wild thing with Debbie. And now I have to pay for that. What the hell am I supposed to do about this? And how do I explain all this to Scully?" I hung my head in my hands.

Byers patted my shoulder, "I think being honest is a good start. Bring her down here tomorrow, we'll show her the tapes, and then you can explain the position this guy has put you in."

"Actually, we're going to the Orioles game tomorrow. We were supposed to go today, but Debbie interrupted us. I guess we'll be by afterwards."

Frohike shook his head. "No way, buddy. Then she'll think that you were trying to desensitize her. And if you come over before, then she'll think it's a way to smooth it all over."

"I guess...so, how do I tell her? If I wait until Sunday, then it'll look like I'm trying to get out of telling her."

"Only one option, Mulder." Byers handed me the phone.

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Rubbing a hand over my face, I worked through the security of the door and opened it to let Scully in. She looked around, and I could tell she was surprised to find the rest of the den empty.

"Where are they?" she asked, depositing her coat on the nearest clear area.

"Um, they went out for cheese steaks. I need to talk to you, alone, and I need to use a few of their things as evidence."

She was terribly confused, and so I decided to make this as painless as possible. "Do you want to know the problem first, or the reason I didn't do it?"

"I don't like the way this conversation is starting, Mulder. What's the problem? I'm sure we can work through it."

I sighed. "It's about Kersh's secretary, Debbie Cullinan." One more sigh. "She's pregnant."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is this an alien fetus or something?"

I chuckled. "Close. It's, uh, mine."

Her face was as stiff as rock, and this time I couldn't even read her emotions in her eyes. I cringed inwardly at the thought of the damage I had possibly just caused.

"Scully, before you say anything, let me tell you the rest of it. The reason I didn't do it." Her face didn't change. "Remember when we went out to Area 51? You know how I thought it was a waste of time? Well, it wasn't."

"Explain," he said in a monotone voice.

I smiled weekly. "We had quite an adventure. Apparently, I did a bit of body switching. You came back with a man named Morris Fletcher inhabiting my body. I was in his body, back in Nevada. Anyway, long story short, Morris apparently tried to take advantage of you. The Gunmen assume that he's the guy who used me to have some fun with Debbie. The timelines match up." In the same monotone voice, she asked, "And I don't remember this? I think I'd remember you hitting on me."

I shrugged. "And so would I. But I don't remember the lunch break with Debbie, either! And I have no idea who cleaned up my apartment or who gave me that damn waterbed. This would explain a lot of things."

"The coins," she murmured.

I cocked my head, not sure what she was talking about. "But I have proof, if you don't believe me, Scully. The Gunmen have the tapes from the day you brought that guy here. They thought it was me, until he started talking about what had happened. And you didn't seem too happy."

Scully was quiet for a bit longer, and I prayed that she believed me. Just this once.

"Where are those tapes, Mulder?" My heart sank. She didn't believe that I had not been in my body. My disappointment must have shown, because next she said, "Mulder, I don't think that you're the type of man who would screw an office secretary over her lunch break. I have more respect for you than to think that. But I am curious about this little switch that occurred."

I nodded and pushed the tape into the VCR, and it began to play. I had already seen this, but it was still weird to see me acting like a completely different person.

When it was over, I looked at her face, relieved to see a look of amusement there. It seemed she was convinced.

"Okay, Mulder. We've established that, somehow, another man had taken over your body the day Debbie says she, uh, slept with you." She licked her lips. "But now you have another problem. What are you going to do about this baby?"

I shook my head. "I don't want her baby, Scully. Even if, for some reason, I did remember this, if I did know what I was doing, I wouldn't want it."

"Does she?"

I frowned. "I don't know. If she doesn't, I'll tell her to put it up for adoption. No abortion, though. Too many unwanted children pay for mistakes they weren't part of." I felt tears come to my eyes as I thought of one baby in particular.

Scully, observant eye that she is, noticed my sadness. "Mulder? What are you thinking about?"

"Uh, someone I know got pregnant while she was in college and aborted the fetus. She's never been the same since. Says it was the biggest mistake she ever made."

"So why'd she do it?"

"She had a very influential boyfriend. A real jerk, too. And the baby would have been born around the time that her senior thesis would be due. I tried to talk Jamie out of it, but Aaron forced her to do it. He even paid for it, so she couldn't use money as an excuse." I wiped my eyes. "I almost asked her to marry me, so she wouldn't have to be a single mom. The night I was going to propose, she got it done."

"You were that close?"

"No. Just good friends. But I couldn't stand the thought of...well, you know."

We were both silent for a while, then I composed myself and reached for the phone. "I'm gonna call Debbie. Find out more about what she wants." I dialed the number in my address book (the words and numbers were not in my handwriting, I noticed), and listened for her to answer.

"Hello?"

"Debbie? It's Mulder." I already felt guilty.

"Oh. I hope you aren't calling to make a claim to the baby."

I chuckled. "No, I'm not. First, I want to apologize for this afternoon. I shouldn't have run out like that. I made an ass of myself, and I'm sure I didn't make you look to great, either."

There was a pause, then she said, "I understand why you did. And I know why you don't remember that day at all."

"How?" I asked, perplexed.

"Your weird friends stopped by my office. They gave me the tapes. I guess it makes sense that the one time you pay attention to me is an X-File."

She was laughing, so I joined in half-heartedly. "I also wanted to know what you were going to do about the baby."

Debbie sighed. "I don't know. I don't think I have the capabilities to be a single mom. And the last thing I want from you is a pity proposal. Your partner wouldn't want it, either." My eyes widened. "If you care, then maybe you can help me find someone to adopt the baby?"

I let out a held breath. "Thank God. I was afraid you'd want an abortion." Scully patted me on my shoulder, giving me a smile that made me think about what Debbie had said earlier.

"Jesus, I could never do that. My mom aborted my youngest sibling. I never forgave her for that. I still celebrate its birthday on the conception date."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I had a friend in college who's boyfriend made her go through with it. She's been obsessed with her unborn child ever since."

"So you want to help me with the adoption?"

"Yeah, I do," I replied in a soft voice. "I'd like to be that person looking out for you, if you don't mind. I may not have gotten you into this situation, but I want to help you get out on a good note."

"Thanks, Mulder. I appreciate it." I could hear the smile in her voice.

A month had passed, and Debbie was at the end of the second trimester. She was starting to get really huge, and people in the FBI finally took notice. No one connected me to the whole situation, which suited me just fine. Scully was still a bit distanced from me, though. I tried to talk to her several times, but she always insisted that she knew that I hadn't been the one to fornicate with Debbie. I think she still felt a bit betrayed, and it killed me to think that I'd hurt her like that.

I went to doctor's appointments with Debbie, and we agreed that I would be her Lamaze partner as well. She also began looking into adoption agencies. Only one could guarantee fulfilling all of her requirements. She wanted to make sure that the baby would be put into a family, meaning a married couple. Siblings would be preferable. It relieved me to know that she truly cared about this baby, even though she couldn't take care of it.

No, not it, her. Yes, part of the requirements from the agency was that she find out the gender of the baby. A little girl. Life's not fair: I've always wanted a little girl, but with Scully, not some secretary.

We interviewed several promising couples, but each one seemed too perfect to me. I got the feeling that the child would never know the joy of a messy room, and life without a messy room just isn't childhood in my book.

Then one day, as I was sorting through mountains of paperwork and wondering where the hell my partner was, I got a phone call from Debbie to meet her down at the agency's headquarters.

When I got there, Debbie was waiting in the lobby for me.

"Now, Mulder, I know you said you wanted to have a say in who gets this baby, but I think we have a winner. That's why I called you down here."

"Really? So tell me about them."

She bit her lip. "No. Wait until we get upstairs."

Bursting with curiosity, I followed her to the elevator and punched number 8 to take us to our middleman's office.

"Mulder, one thing. The baby would end up staying here in DC. You don't have any objections to that, do you?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I don't care if one of the people works in the FBI. It's probably nicer that way, so you can keep tabs on her through her life."

Debbie nodded. "That goes for you, too." She leaned back against the wall and rested her arms on her belly. A few seconds later the elevator stopped, and we exited, turning left down the hallway.

Arriving at room 813, I knocked and turned the doorknob when I heard someone tell us to go in. In the back of the room was a circular table where interviews were held. Richard Bradford was facing someone out of my sight -- the couple, I assumed. Debbie gave me a gentle nudge, and I walked further into the office and turned to face the people who would most likely take care of my child.

Wait, not people, person.

And not just any person. Scully.

"Surprise," Scully said, almost shyly.

I couldn't believe this. "Scully?" I squeaked.

Debbie and Richard excused themselves and went out to leave us alone. I flopped into a chair.

"Mulder, you aren't that surprised, are you? I mean, I told Debbie to hint at who I was..."

I shook my head. "I thought I was coming to see another couple. Why didn't you tell me you were interested?"

Her gaze refused to meet mine. "I thought you'd figure it out by yourself. I mean, I can't have my own children, so I've resigned myself to adoption. I tried it with Emily, but, well, you know how that turned out." I nodded, even though she wasn't looking at me. "Well, when you told me about this whole thing, I realized that if I couldn't have my own baby, yours would be the next best thing." Her voice got even softer. "Half of what I've always wanted, anyway."

My heart beat faster as the meaning of her words connected in my brain. Jesus, she wanted my baby because she couldn't have ours. I stood up and moved to the chair next to her. She still wouldn't look at me, so I gently cupped my hand around her chin and raised it so I could look into her eyes. "That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. But do you really want a baby that is a mix of me and someone else?"

She breathed out quickly, a sound I recognized as an indulging laugh. "Mulder, I know a little bit about genetics. Your genes are almost all dominant; Debbie's are mostly recessive. Chances are that the baby will end up looking more like you. And many of Debbie's traits are similar to mine. Emily was blonde, remember? I was, too, for a few years. Same with Melissa. So it looks like either way, I get what I want."

I was almost afraid to ask. "And what is that?"

"To tell unsuspecting people that it's our baby. What did you think I'd say?"

I shrugged. "I figured that's what you were going for. I just wanted to hear it from your own mouth."

She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "So, did I past the test? Do I get to do this?" in a soft voice.

Nodding, I reached over to embrace her. "Wouldn't trust anyone else with my baby."

And with a few strokes of a pen on some official documents, the event that I feared would take everything I loved away, brought it even closer.

The next months were slightly crazed. I had to go with Scully to her mother's house to explain what Mrs. Scully's daughter was doing. She was disappointed that it wasn't her biological granddaughter, but I think she understood why Scully was so eager to adopt this child. Fortunately, I was not asked to explain why I got another woman pregnant. As much as the logical explanation embarrassed me, I knew that there really was no way Mrs. Scully would buy the real thing.

I knew that Scully never really liked telling her mother about the cases we investigated, and she often toned them down to make them more believable. I was not offended by this; frankly, I feared that if Margaret Scully ever really knew what I had gotten her baby girl into, I would lose the woman who has become my surrogate mother. We didn't always see eye to eye on matters concerning Dana (in fact, I can't think of a time when we did), but see always supported me in front of her family. Well, in front of Bill. The invisible Charles has yet to meet me face to face.

The part of our visit with Mrs. Scully that really spurred me into action was her question of whether or not would like to borrow some money to get by once the baby was officially given to her. Scully declined, saying she had already devised a plan to add to her regrettably minimal income. I had wanted to ask her what this brilliant plan was, but the look she threw me told me all I needed to know. A few minutes later, Mrs. Scully pardoned herself to go to the bathroom, and I turned to my partner.

"You really think this plan of yours is going to work?" I asked, hoping I had guessed correctly.

She nodded. "I just need confirmation from one more person. Are you willing to go along with this?"

Grinning a bit, I replied, "I think your plan to pass her off as, um, ours will go over better if I'm there to show where she gets that unbelievable nose of hers." In a soft voice, she said, "It'll help me pretend better, too."

I sat back, amazed that even though the actual words had never been spoken, we had just agreed to get married. Hell, we hadn't even said we loved each other! But with us, those words rarely needed to be uttered aloud. To quote the 'Eves': "We just knew."

When Mrs. Scully returned from the bathroom, she didn't say another word about her daughter's financial troubles. While she's never admitted to eavesdropping on us, I think she truly set us up from the moment we walked in to be engaged when we walked out.

We didn't even speak of our agreement until weeks later. We got back from a case late at night, and since her apartment was closer, I instructed her to just drive there instead of dropping me off as we normally did.

She'd looked at me out of the corner of her eye and asked if I was sure.

"Well, yeah. It's almost two in the morning. You're almost asleep at the wheel. It makes sense. A few years from now it'll be the only option."

The car jerked slightly to the right and I realized that she hadn't acknowledged the thought of us living in the same house.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I guess I forgot about that. I mean, I didn't, but..."

"It's okay. You're tired," I reasoned.

Scully shook her head. "That's not it. I just hadn't realized that this whole thing would be happening so soon. I think I'm expecting to wait a whole nine months, even though she's already thirty weeks into it."

"I know what you mean. I saw her at work a week after she told me, and she was suddenly showing. It kinda scared me." I fell silent, and so did she. When we reached her apartment, I dumped my bag next to her couch, where I expected to spend the night, like I had the few other times I'd stayed at her place.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, and I looked up at her, almost scared by her tone of voice.

"Uh, getting ready for bed?"

"Well, for your information, the bed's in there." She pointed in the direction of her bedroom. My mouth dropped open. "C'mon, Mulder. I'm tired, but I can't sleep knowing my fiancé is on the couch when he hasn't done anything wrong."

Still unable to find my voice, I obeyed her. Once there, I stood at the foot of the bed, stupidly wondering which side she wanted.

Reading my mind, Scully ordered that I do whatever made me comfortable, that she had no preference. Smiling shyly, I claimed what would, in years to come, be known as 'Daddy's Side'.

I got the phone call five weeks later, on August 13. The voice on the other line was unrecognizable, and I had to ask the person to identify themselves again.

"Mr. Mulder, this is Dr. Jenna Scott, Deborah's OB-GYN? I'm calling from NE Georgetown Med Center. Debbie's just been admitted here because of some external hemorrhaging she noticed last night. She and the baby are all right, but she's asked that you and, uh -- Dana? -- come down as soon as you can."

My heart rate was either too slow or too fast. This couldn't be happening? I sent a quick prayer that this wouldn't be a miscarriage and agreed to go down right then.

I hung up the phone and looked over at Scully, who had a quizzical look in her eyes.

"Debbie's having complications," I spat out. "Something about 'external hemorrhaging'. She's in NE G-town."

Scully was on her feet in seconds. "Let's go."

When we got there, Jenna was waiting for us outside Debbie's room.

"Jenna, this is my partner, Dr. Dana Scully, MD. She's adopting the baby."

Dr. Scott held out her hand. "Dr. Scully."

"Please, Dana, Dr. Scott."

"Jenna. Well, seeing that you're a doctor, I'll give you the straight facts. I don't know if you know this, but Deborah has diabetes." She took our blank stares to mean we didn't know. "It's not usually a problem, but it does make her more susceptible to certain problems. One of them is abruptio placentae, which is the cause of the bleeding. In this condition, the placenta breaks away from the uterine lining. Sometimes the bleeding is internal, for her it's external. We've measured the detachment to be 25%, which is a bit more than normal, but not dangerous.

"To treat this, I've restricted her to bed rest. If the bleeding slows drastically or stops, we'll have her walk more. Eventually she'll be released. However, the bleeding could worsen. If this occurs, then I'm going to advise a Cesarean section. The baby's at thirty-five weeks, so she may not even have to be put in the incubator. I have every confidence that the baby will be healthy, no matter when she's delivered."

I took in this information, relieved that Scully's plans would not be made unnecessary. My plans, too. I was very much looking forward to protecting my little girl.

Jenna's beeper beeped, and she excused herself and jogged to the nearest bank of pay phones. I turned to Scully.

"Not as bad as we thought," she murmured, patting my arm.

"Yeah," I agreed, "but this moves up our time table. I get the feeling that we may find ourselves with a daughter by next week. We have a few things to do."

Scully's apartment had a spare bedroom, so we lucked out there. I had spent almost every night in her bed since the night we first slept together. Unfortunately, that's all we'd done: sleep. I wouldn't have felt right initiating anything in what was still her bed. Each night I started on my side, begging my body not to wander across the invisible line for once. Each morning I woke up spooned against her.

(Eventually, I learned not to fight the inevitable, although nothing sexual occurred until the baby slept through the night.)

We entered Debbie's room, glad to see her looking healthy even though she was asleep. Deciding that there was nothing for us to do, I jotted a note so she would know we'd been there, then we went back to the office.

Two days later, at 4:30 in the morning, the phone jarred us awake. Scully pried herself out of my embrace, and picked up the phone with a groggy 'hello'.

Twenty minutes later, we were on our way to the hospital. Debbie's bleeding had indeed worsened, and Jenna had the C-section scheduled for 5:15 that morning.

Jenna offered to let Scully help with the operation, but she declined, saying she worked better on dead people. The look on Jenna's face was classic, and Scully quickly explained that she was a pathologist.

As the operation started, we hung back. As sudden thought came to me. "Scully, she needs a name."

Scully mumbled something, and I asked her to repeat it. "Cassandra Ann. That's her name."

I was about to ask if I got a say in it, but then I realized where the names came from. Ann was Sam's middle name. Cassandra was most likely for Cassandra Spender, who seemed to have such an impact on Scully. I nodded in agreement. Cassandra Ann Mulder.

At 5:24 a.m. on August 15, 1999, my daughter was born.

Today is August 15, 2007. Cassie's eighth birthday. The next few days are going to be the hardest of my life. Sam was taken not even a week after her eighth birthday. Cassie looks just like Sam. I went into my Ultra-Over-Protective Mode about a week ago, and I won't stop until I'm sure my baby's safe. Scully has been chiding me every day that nothing will happen, that the experiments are over. This knowledge does nothing to comfort me. Not letting Cassie out of my sight does.

The birthday party will be on Saturday, and I've even arranged for the Gunmen to set up extra surveillance for the occasion. Cassie calls me paranoid.

If anyone has the right to be, it's me.

Scully's in the kitchen putting the final touches on the cake, and I can smell the Mommy Mcnuggets in the oven. Scully makes a wonderful version of the Mcdonald's food, and Cass requested them as her birthday dinner.

Sam had meatloaf, the usual Thursday night meal.

The cake is a Little Debbie mix, chocotate cake and vanilla icing. Scully promised pink roses, too. Saturday's cake will be made by professional bakers with a jumping horse on it.

Sam got extra ice cream in the special bowl.

It was almost as if my parents knew how soon it would happen, and they didn't want her, or me, to remember her last birthday with everyone together.

A small tapping on my door brings me back to the present. "Come in," I answer.

The door opens with a "Hi, Daddy," and my baby skips over to my desk. "Whatcha doin'?"

With a smile I pull her onto my lap. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. How you doing, Birthday Girl?"

She shrugs. "Okay. Eight doesn't feel much different from seven, ya know?"

"It's been a while since I was seven or eight. But I guess forty-six won't feel different from forty-five."

"Guess not," Cassie nods. There's a comfortable silence as she rests her head against my chest. I love this feeling. "Daddy, have you ever wished you could switch bodies with someone else?"

The question catches me off guard, and I briefly wonder if someone has told her that her beloved mommy isn't her biological mother. Then I realize that she's asking a silly eight-year-old question.

"I guess so, Cassie. But I've heard that body switching can have some very dangerous effects."

The End

Note: Please note that in the argument over abortion, the opinions presented in the story are the opinions of the author alone, and do not knowingly reflect any opinions held by any actor, writer, producer, etc. associated with The X-Files in any way, shape or form. This was not meant to be a political or ethical speech, so I ask you not to write to me about that particular point, be it praise or flame. All those offended by my stand on the subject, I apologize for not warning you in advance, but I didn't want to spoil the plot. I only included it because I realize abortion is a very real option facing single mothers today, and I had to get that out of the way.