"Girls' Day Out" by Juliettt@aol.com (begun August 16, 1995; complete September 27, 1995) Just a quickie. I've done several stories lately examining the relationship between Dana Scully and her father; this one is about Dana and her mother, Margaret. I began it for my Mom on her birthday (August *is* a big month, isn't it?). Hope you enjoy. It is set early in Scully's and Mulder's marriage, about a month after the events of "Epithalamion." In the Marriage series it falls between "On the Road" and "Watching the Storm," so far. ;-) And, as always, Dana Scully (Mulder) and Fox Mulder and Margaret Scully are the exclusive property of The Man Himself, Chris Carter, along with His Company, Ten-Thirteen Productions, and The Station, FOX Broadcasting. The characters also belong to Gillian Anderson, David Duchovny, and Sheila Larken, and I'm borrowing them with the utmost of respect but no permission whatsoever, and no creative toe-treading is intended. This story, though, is mine, and I would appreciate your extending to me the courtesy I have failed to extend to CC and ask me first if you want to use it for some unknown reason. Hey, that's an idea. . . . Mr. Carter, sir: would you mind terribly if I borrowed your wonderful characters for a few stories? And now, while I'm waiting for his answer. . . . (Special thanks to XFScully, Windsinger, Macspooky, and Gylford, who helped me choose and provide a rationale for the football teams mentioned. Mac, you were right -- maybe Mulder *did* produce tickets to the Redskins/Vikings game because he knew Scully was a Washington fan and wanted to do something nice for her . . . especially in the wake of her abduction. . . .) ************************* "Girls' Day Out" by Juliettt@aol.com ************************* "Scully -- it's your mom." Fox Mulder held out the cordless phone to his wife and sank back into his seat at the table in the breakfast nook. Soon his mind was occupied with the morning paper and his mouth with blueberry pancakes and bacon, but he still listened with half an ear. "Hi, Mom!" Dana Scully answered, refilling her cup and his from the coffeepot. He picked it up with a grin and took a long swallow, his eyes dancing at her over the rim. She reached out and tousled his hair affectionately before taking her seat. "Hope I didn't wake you, sweetheart." "Nope. I promised Mulder blueberry pancakes this morning. We've been up a couple of hours." Her mother sighed. "I don't think I'll *ever* get used to you two calling each other by your last names." "Oh, we don't *always*," her daughter answered with a smirk. "So what's up, Mom?" "Nothing much. I was just wondering what you were up to this weekend." "Hmm. Not much here, either. Just a decent breakfast -- for once -- and then we'll probably read and do some more unpacking. . . ." It had been nearly a month since the wedding but because of their hectic work schedules they *still* were not settled into their new house. "Why? What did you have in mind?" "Well . . . I thought maybe we could have lunch or something . . . maybe do a little shopping. . . ." "Mom? Is anything wrong?" Her mother sighed. "Dana Katherine. Does something have to be wrong for me to want to have lunch with my baby girl?" Scully almost sagged with relief. "No. Of course not, Mom. Sorry -- I just. . . ." "I know, hon. Nothing's wrong. I just -- wanted to see you, that's all." "Okay, Mom." She nudged Mulder's shin with her toe. "Lunch today?" He caught her look and nodded. She smiled. "Sounds great. Meet you somewhere or do you want to come to the house?" "Well, if you don't mind, I thought we'd check out that new restaurant in the mall. You still like Italian, right?" "Of course I still like Italian! Just not liver or fried chicken." She made a face and Mulder, deep in the sports section, grinned. Some things you never forgot. "Mozzerella's, right?" "That's it. One-ish?" "Perfect. More than perfect. You've just gotten me out of my share of the weekend's laundry." Mulder made a wry face at this and she laughed. Margaret laughed back. "Well, at least he's liberated." Scully snorted. "Liberated? You have *no* idea." "Nuts" was the word that had come to mind at one time. After all, the guy believed in werewolves and vampires, not to mention aliens. "Look on the bright side, Scully," he had reminded her once. "Our children will learn the truth about things that go 'bump' in the night." "Don't you *dare* tell our kids scary stories, Fox Mulder -- or I'll make *you* go 'bump' in the night," she had warned him. "Is that a promise?" he'd leered at her. "*You* have a dirty mind." "Hypocrite." "Screwball." The problem was, she was beginning to believe, too. And he was looking at her quizzically. She ignored him and went on. "I'll see you at one, then. Love you, Mom." "Love you too, sweetheart." Mulder was waving his arms frantically. "Oh, Mom? Mulder wants to say something." She handed the phone to him. "Hi again, Mom." "Good morning, Fox. Thanks for lending me your wife for the afternoon." "No problem. Just don't believe everything she tells you, okay?" Margaret laughed. "Okay. I love you, Fox." His eyes softened. He felt closer to Dana's mother than he did to his own, and she always seemed to sense this. She had told him -- frequently and for years before he had married her daughter -- that she considered him one of her sons. This had become the case after Dana's abduction and even more so after his own disappearance in New Mexico. "I love you too, Mom. 'Bye." "'Bye, hon." He heard the click at the other end and hung up with a small sigh. Scully was watching him with a small smile on her face. It was the little things that she loved -- like the way Fox felt comfortable enough with her mother not to hand the phone back to her. She knew how he felt about Mrs. Scully -- they had talked about it often enough. His relationship with his own parents had been strained for years, and even after Bill Mulder's death he had been unable to reconcile fully with his mother. She had come to the wedding, of course. But Dana knew that her husband would never truly feel he could go home to Martha's Vineyard until he could go hand-in-hand with his sister and present her to his mother and say, "I have found her." For all Mrs. Mulder knew her son had lost his sister twice -- once as a child to the beings he could not explain, and once as a man, the result of a trade that had saved Dana's own life. Of course, that second time it had not been Samantha at all, but a clone. And this made any explanation even more impossible than the incoherent ramblings of a frightened twelve-year-old boy. "Thanks, Fox," she said quietly. He looked up from his pancakes. "For what?" "Letting me take off and spend some time with Mom." They really *did* need to finish moving. . . . "As if you needed my permission. As if you would listen to me if I said 'no,' anyway." He grinned at her to show he was teasing. "I won't shrivel up while you're gone, you know." "You're sure about that?" she grinned back. "Positive. I've got all that laundry to keep me occupied, remember?" She knew she was being silly, but they *had* only been married a month -- less than a month -- and Mulder was -- well, Mulder was Mulder. "And you won't get into any trouble?" "Moi?" She simply raised an eyebrow. Mulder could get into trouble -- and had -- going to the refrigerator for a glass of milk. He sighed, a mock wounded look on his face. "I promise. No trouble." She got up and cleared the table, taking the dishes to the sink. "Attaboy." He followed her, reaching over her shoulders to take the dishes as she rinsed and put them in the dishwasher. When they were done he slid his arms around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head. "I'll miss ya, Scully." She wrapped her arms around his and examined their wet hands. "Mmm. I know. Me too." Amazing that they could spend practically every waking -- and sleeping -- moment together and not be sick of one another yet. But then again, they had practically been doing just that for years -- save the sleeping part, that is. "But I'll be back this evening. And we still have tonight and tomorrow before we have to hit the next big case. . . ." "We've got tonight . . . who needs tomorrow . . . let's make it laaaast, babe, let's fiiiind a waaaay . . ." he crooned. She groaned and elbowed him in the ribs. "You're bad, Mulder." He grinned. "And you love me anyway." "No," she said thoughtfully, a half-smile curving her lips, "I'm beginning to realize I love you *because*." ***** Margaret Scully sat in the corner sipping her glass of wine. She caught a flash of red out of the corner of her eye and glanced to her left. Her daughter had just entered the mall and was walking briskly past the windows to the restaurant's entrance. She watched Dana as she paused in front of the hostess and smiled. Her little girl had grown into a lovely and poised woman. Watching her now, crossing the restaurant with a welcoming smile on her face, she thought that no-one seeing the petite redhead would ever believe she was a forensic pathologist, much less an FBI agent. She stood up to receive her daughter's hug. "Hi, Mom." "Hello, darling." She stepped back and held Dana at arm's length. "Marriage agrees with you," she said approvingly. Dana laughed. "Most definitely." They sat down and the waiter brought another glass of wine. She took a sip and nodded her approval. "I didn't think you'd mind." "Of course not." She glanced at her mother as she picked up her menu. "Have you decided yet?" "Mmm. I feel decadent. Chicken Alfredo." "Yum." She smiled and considered. "I'm really not all that hungry after the pancakes, but the cream of chicken soup with mushrooms and almonds sounds wonderful." She put down the menu with a small sigh. "So." "So." They looked at each other. "Mom. . . ." "Sweetheart, *nothing's* wrong. I told you. I haven't seen you in awhile and I just wanted to spend the afternoon with you. No hidden agenda. I promise." She relaxed slightly. "I guess I *have* been neglecting you. . . ." Her mother shook her head in exasperation. "Dana Katherine Scully *Mulder*, you are a married woman." She noticed that her daughter couldn't help but grin at that. "You have a husband and a very demanding career. I don't expect you to spend every waking moment with me." She nodded. "Okay. But I do feel a little guilty, especially since now I've moved farther away. . . ." "Don't be ridiculous." Scully arched one eyebrow and took another sip of wine. "Just tell me one thing, Dana. Are you happy?" Scully's eyes glowed. "Do you have to ask?" Her mother smiled tenderly. "No, I don't. You're fairly radiant, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear you say it. . . ." The younger woman nodded. "I'm -- more than happy, Mom. It's like . . . like . . ." she trailed off. Her mother smiled again. "Like sometimes you wake up in the morning afraid it's all a dream? Like sometimes you want to laugh for no reason at all? Like the world seems like a totally different place?" Scully had been nodding the entire time. "Yes . . . but how. . . ?" "That's the way I felt about your father." Her eyes grew a little misty. It had been a long time since Bill's death, but she still missed him. The ache just wasn't as sharp as it had been. "Sometimes, Mom -- I wake up in the middle of the night and just lie there listening to him breathe. I know it sounds so corny, but. . . ." Margaret Scully laughed. "You've got it bad, dear." Scully laughed back. "I suppose I do." "And he's got it just as badly as you do." Maggie leaned back in her chair and smiled. She had had her eye on Fox Mulder for years, hoping -- praying -- that someday these two would stop being so stubborn and admit what was obvious to anyone who knew them well at all. "Yeah, I guess he does," Scully sighed happily. Then she shook her head. "It feels weird sometimes -- like being a kid in love with love. I keep being afraid it's too good to last -- not this giddy feeling I get whenever I'm near him," she hastened to add, "just -- this happiness. We lived without happiness for so long that I can't bear the thought of it ever disappearing again." Mrs. Scully looked at her daughter seriously. "Dana. You and Fox belong together. That happiness you feel -- that's not something temporary. Just keep working at it." She eyed the younger woman slyly. Somehow she didn't think that would be a problem. . . . Dana caught her mother's look and blushed deeply. No, not a problem at all, Margaret thought happily. But she took pity and changed the subject. Slightly. "So. How far along are you with your moving?" Scully sighed. "Not as far as we should be. If we don't get a move on we'll have to pay another month's rent on both our apartments." "Need some help?" "The Scully Moving Brigade?" Dana laughed. "Oh, Lord. We'd probably be done in a *day*, but then I'd have to go back and move everything around again." Now Margaret laughed. The two Scully boys and Melissa's husband John were The Moving Brigade. They were certainly . . . *thorough*, she had to give them that. But when Brian and Karen had moved into their new house her poor daughter-in-law had had to take weeks to find everything. The carefully labelled boxes had somehow been scattered all over the house with their labels mysteriously face down. Funny how a few boxes could turn into a sea of anonymously drab brown that seemed to stretch from the front porch to the back door. "Actually, I meant *my* help, dear. And Melissa's." Scully shrugged and sipped at her wine. "I think we've got it basically under control. But Fox told me just before I left to invite you over for dinner -- *before* the official housewarming, that is." She smiled warmly at her mother. "He really loves you, you know." Margaret nodded quietly. "I know." She reached over and took Dana's hand. "I'm so happy for you -- and happy for *me.* For a long time I was so afraid I'd never get him into the family!" Scully laughed again. Then, "me, too," she said more seriously. There was a comfortable silence. "So -- how are the new arrangements at the office working out?" Just then their lunches arrived and they turned to lighter chat over the food. Margaret watched her daughter with grateful eyes, noting the fresh color in her cheeks, the fading of the dark circles that had shadowed her eyes for so long, the comparative ease with which her laughter came now. Dana Scully was the veritable picture of a happy and beloved woman. She grinned and hugged herself a little, and Dana stopped right in the middle of a description of their new offices, a small frown on her face. "What, Mom?" "Nothing, sweetheart. Go on." ***** After lunch they strolled through the mall, stepping into shops that struck their fancy, but mostly just talking and enjoying being together. When they passed a Victoria's Secret Dana stopped and grinned. "I promised Mulder a surprise. . . ." She shot her mother a questioning look and smiled again when the older woman followed her into the store. At one time she might have been slightly embarrassed to take her mother lingerie shopping with her, but given some of the wedding gifts Margaret had gotten her. . . . Scully wandered around the store, just looking. She selected several items for herself -- well, by extension, for Mulder as well, of course. Among them was a dark green silk nightgown, nothing racy, but elegant in its simplicity. It looked comfortable and she knew he would love it. Then she turned to the men's section. Almost immediately she found a pair of deep royal blue pajamas that would be perfect. She pulled a size medium off the rack, draped them over her arm, and headed for the dressing room. When she reemerged Margaret eyed the pajamas quizzically. "Had to make sure the sleeves weren't too long," Dana said cryptically. Margaret smiled as she watched her daughter head to the checkout counter. From where she stood she could see swathes of green and gold fabric that stood out against the blue. Humming tunelessly to herself, she headed out of the store and sat down on a bench to wait for Scully. "Where to next?" she asked when her daughter rejoined her. "Um. The coffee place. I want to get us some of the good stuff." Margaret smiled again. She felt certain Dana had no idea that this was the most her mother had seen her pampering herself in years. She sighed a little. Ahab would have been thrilled. "Mom?" She shook her head. "Just thinking of your father again. He used to like to take me shopping and buy me things when he came home from tours. He would always bring me something from wherever he'd been, as well, but he also enjoyed making me pamper myself on occasion." Dana slid an arm around her mother. "I still miss him," she whispered. "I know." Suddenly she laughed. "I wish I could have seen Fox and Bill together." Dana rolled her eyes. "Oh, boy. Football season -- I can just see it now." Mulder was an avid Patriots fan and had it out every Thanksgiving with her brothers, who were diehard Jets, as their father had been before them. Dana had always been a Redskins fan, though she preferred college football, and usually found herself teasingly rooting for the underdog whenever they were not playing. They stepped into Barnie's and Margaret watched as Dana purchased a pound of French Vanilla Almond and a half-pound of Hazelnut. She knew her daughter hated hazelnuts. That must be for Fox. They browsed the bookstore and she found several current biographies she declared she had been seeking. Dana selected the latest in Charles Grant's science fiction series for Mulder and a novel for herself. Then, after a slight pause, she headed for the children's section. Margaret hurried after her, her eyes wide. When she reached the back of the store Dana was skimming the shelf of Dr. Seuss. Finally finding what she was looking for, she pulled it down and leafed through it. _The Sleep Book_. She glanced up and met her mother's curious gaze and then, after a moment's pause, flushed. "It's not what you're thinking." "Oh." She bit her lip. "In fact, we haven't really talked about it all that seriously yet." "Oh?" "No. We've joked around a little bit, but. . . ." "Oh. . . ." She stared at her mother. "Mom, do you have any idea just how much expression you can put into that one syllable?" Margaret laughed and Dana joined her. "Seriously, though, Dana -- I don't mean to pry or anything, but. . . ." She paused and looked her daughter directly in the eye. "How do *you* feel about it?" "What, about the idea of having children or the idea that we haven't talked about it all that much?" She sighed. "I want children. I want children *with Fox*. And I'm pretty sure -- from what he's said -- that he wants children, too. With me," she finished with a smile. "We just have to figure out the right time." Margaret shook her head slowly. "Dana, sometimes there isn't really such a thing as 'the right time.' All times can be right -- and all times can be wrong. There are better times and worse times, of course, but. . . ." Scully nodded. "I know. But we've only been married a month. Definitely time to *talk* about it, but too early to *do* anything about it." She sighed. "I think -- I think Mulder might be a little afraid. . . ." "Of being a father?" She nodded again. "Yes. We talked about it once a long time ago -- on a stakeout, of all places." She smiled, fondly remembering some of those stakeout conversations, sitting there in the dark with their defences down and the protective night around them. "He . . . didn't have a very good relationship with his own father." Mrs. Scully nodded. She had gathered as much. "Dana. He has a lot of wounds that need to be healed. You're helping him do that." She smiled at her daughter. "From what little I've seen of Fox since the wedding -- since you got engaged -- he's happier than he's been in his entire life." , she added mentally. Scully sighed contentedly. "Me, too, Mom." "Really? I couldn't tell. . . ." She swung to the older woman in amazement, then laughed at the teasing she saw in her eyes. "I think Mulder would make a wonderful father." Margaret nodded in agreement. "He will. Just as you'll be a wonderful mother." Dana shot her mother a look of gratitude. "When you *do* have that talk, be sure to tell him." "I will. Coffee?" ***** Fox Mulder looked up from his book when he heard the door open. His wife swept into the living room, depositing shopping bags on the couch. He smiled. He had told her she should pamper herself more, but she normally didn't like to shop for herself. Then he recognized the labels on a couple of the bags and grinned more widely. Of course, it looked like maybe she had been shopping for *him*. . . . "Hi, sweetheart. Have fun with your mom?" "Mmmm," she said, bending to kiss him. "Would have been more fun with you there. Were you good?" His eyes danced. "How shall I answer that. . . ." She narrowed her eyes at him. "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." He smiled wryly. "Okay, then. I was *very* good -- even did all the laundry *and* put it away." "Mmm. Is that fresh bread I smell?" She sniffed appreciatively. "It is indeed. Should be done in . . ." he looked at his watch, "twelve minutes." One of their wedding presents had been a bread machine, and Mulder had discovered he could dump in the ingredients at night and set the timer and there would be fresh loaf for breakfast in the morning. He had evidently started a batch right after she had left so that it would be ready in time for dinner. "So . . . do I get to see what you got me? Do I, huh? Do I? Do I? Huh?" She smirked at him. "And what, Fox Mulder, makes you think I bought you *anything*?" He settled back on the sofa and placed his fingertips together in a classic "Sherlock Holmes" pose. She grinned and sank down next to him. "Elementary, my dear Scully." He sniffed. "Hazelnut coffee," he ticked off on his fingers, "Victoria's Secret bags *and* -- the biggest clue of all . . ." he reached over and lifted her chin with a fingertip, "that gleam in your eyes." "I am *not* gleaming!" "Oh yes, you are," he assured her. "In fact, I'd say you've been gleaming a lot lately. For the last month or so. Could it be . . ." suddenly his mocking tone softened and she could see a glimmer of self-doubt in his eyes, "me, maybe?" he finished quietly, almost hesitantly. She grinned and climbed into his lap, facing him. "Fox, it is most *definitely* you. . . ." He grinned back, his eyes lighting up, and moved in to kiss her. Suddenly there was a shrill beeping sound. "Bread's done," he whispered against her mouth. "Mmm," she agreed. "Don't you want to see what I got you?" "Yeah," he grinned with a gleam of his own. "I could definitely go for some . . . coffee." *END* _The Sleep Book_ also appears in my stories Stakeout Two: "Seduction By the Book" and _Vengeance_ (still in progress). This one is for my mom, who makes *THE* best blueberry pancakes ever known to man, woman, or child. And who, by the way, introduced me to _The Sleep Book_. I love you , Mom. . . . Juliettt's Marriage Series: "Epithalamion" "Wonders Wrought" (2 parts) "Waking" "On the Road" "Girls' Day Out" "Watching the Storm"