Title: Miracle Season
Author: Neoxphile
Categories: Kidfic, multiple birth, Holiday, FT, Challenge fic.
Challenge details: late entries still be accepted here
http://www.geocities.com/mulderscreek/tnfchristmas05.html
Spoilers/Timeline: though season nine, but pretend that William's
adoption was foster care (or revoked) and that he returned to Scully
not long after "The Truth".
Summary: A Christmas tale about merry little multiples for the Mulder
and Scully, and for Doggett and Reyes. . . and Fowley torture.

**
Miracle Season


It was cold enough out to frost Mulder's breath while he worked to
scrape a thick coating of frost off his car windows. Given it was
December, that it was cold enough to frost windows and steam breath
came as no surprise. Clearing off the windows should have felt like a
small triumph, but doing so allowed him to see inside the van. . . 
which soured his mood.

Five-year-old William was quietly entertaining himself by looking at
a picture book. He seemed oblivious to the chaos surrounding him, but
he'd developed coping mechanisms so he wouldn't go insane from
sensory overload.

Both Mulder and Scully had themselves feared insanity a few times
over the past four years, but they'd been assured that it was a
normal feeling for the parents of quadruplets. As he continued to
stare into the van, he tried to remind himself that.

Jeremy had somehow managed to free himself from his boaster seat, and
was screwing with the CD player by ejecting and inserting the CD over
and over again. Back where they belonged, Brian and Eric were having
a fight over a toy they'd found, and were swatting at each other.
Alison, the only girl, and the only one with red hair rather than
brown, looked like she was behaving. Mulder knew better through
experience than to be fooled by her appearance of innocence.

Sighing, he opened the van door, picked Jeremy up and put him back in
his seat, then took the toy away from Eric and Brian. Once everyone
was settled again, he got behind wheel, getting the show on the road.

A man had to be out of his mind to volunteer to bring that crew
Christmas shopping. Mulder, however, was willing to risk being put
away in the loony bin in order to do all the shopping once, rather
than in five separate trips like they'd done the year before.

His first stop was to drive to Doggett's place, so he could pick up
him and his three-year-old daughter Kylie. But when he got there, he
saw Doggett waiting with two car seats. Both Kylie and her twin
brother Kevin were hanging on his pant legs.

"Monica dropped Kevin off. Hope you don't mind." Doggett said,
sounding slightly frazzled.

Doggett wasn't used to having his son, so it didn't surprise Mulder
much that he was feeling overwhelmed. At least, Mulder reflected,
there weren't four of them. "The more the merrier." He replied
evenly. Six kids to look after or seven, what was the big difference?
Either way he and Doggett were severely out-numbered.

"No Scully?" Doggett asked after he'd buckled his kids into the van's
last bench seat.

"Not this time. She's spending the day with her mother, trying to
brace herself for the holidays ahead."

Doggett looked back over the seat for a moment, studying Mulder's
noisy children. "I guess I can't blame her."

"It's hard to." Mulder agreed. 

Ten miles later an unprecedented silence fell over the kids, making
Mulder check the rearview mirror anxiously. They were asleep, all of
them but William who was still quietly looking at a picture book. The
steady drive must have lulled the younger ones to sleep.

"Are you nervous?" Doggett asked, breaking the silence.

"Always. But about what in particular?"

"It's almost miracle season." Doggett replied, looking over his seat
again.

That made Mulder cringe a little. Miracle season is what the
beleaguered X-Files agents had dubbed the third week of December.
"No. I refuse to worry about that any more."

Doggett nodded, but he didn't look terribly convinced. "I guess
you're right. Nothing has happened over the last two years, after
all."

"Yeah." Mulder agreed, not looking at the other man. He'd never told
anyone, not even Scully, that he thought he'd seen Marita Covarrubias
in a store a few months before, pushing a carriage with three blond
toddlers in it. "Besides, it would be someone else's turn, wouldn't
it?"

"Maybe."

Glancing in the rearview mirror again, Mulder couldn't help but see
his children and think about the day his and Scully's lives were
inexplicably changed forever.

**

December 20th, 2002

The phone startled Mulder out of a pre-holiday malaise, nearly making
him drop William's clothes. It had taken him until now to even
consider dressing himself or his son, despite Scully's warning that
she expected them both to be downstairs for lunch by noon.

Scully must have had her hands full too, because the phone continued
to ring. After he finished wrestling the shirt over William's head,
Mulder grabbed for the phone. "Mulder." He fully expected it to be
Maggie, since he couldn't think of another person who'd be calling
him or Scully while they were on vacation. They hadn't been popular
since their return to the Hoover building, despite a full acquittal
for Mulder on all the trumped up charges. No one but Doggett, Reyes
and Skinner gave them the time of day any more.

"Your office has been broken into." Skinner's terse voice came over
the line.

"What was taken?"

"Nothing."

""Nothing? So how do you know that there'd been a break-in?" He swore
under his breath. "Is the office trashed?"

"The office is okay. I know someone was there because something was
left behind."

"What?"

"I don't want to tell you over the phone. Just get down here as soon
as possible, and bring Scully with you." Skinner said. "And Mulder,
try to find a sitter. You don't want William with you."

A knife twisted in Mulder's gut; he wondered if there was a body in
the basement. "We'll find someone."

**

The heels of their shoes clicked as they rushed towards the office.
Doggett and Reyes were entering the office as they rounded the
corner.

When they got into the room it was crowded and chaotic. A woman
wearing a white lab coat carrying a rack of blood vials squeezed past
them and left.

"What's going on, sir?" Mulder asked when he reached him.

"It's probably better to show you. . . " He gestured at the very back of
the room.

Following Skinner's hand with his eyes, Mulder noticed for the first
time that there were two wicker boxes sitting on the floor. "Are
there body parts in those boxes?" Mulder asked, disturbed by the idea
and the memory of the person whisking blood samples off.

"After a manner of speaking." Skinner said calmly. "Take a look in
them."

Though Mulder and Doggett stepped forward, both of the female agents
hung back. Mulder glanced over his shoulder at Scully, deciding that
she must be worried that the deceased was someone they knew, since
she wasn't normally squeamish.

Doggett reached the boxes first. "What the hell?" He picked something
up and handed it back to Reyes. It was an envelope with the two
agents' names on it.

Stepping up himself, Mulder saw a similar envelope addressed to him
and Scully. It took him a moment to force himself to pick it up,
because he was stunned by what was in the bottom of the box.

"What is it?!" Scully hissed.

Shrugging, Mulder reached into the first box and extracted one of the
things in the bottom. Seeming startled to be suddenly raised in the
air, it flailed a little.

"Mulder! That's a baby!" Scully shouted, making the baby in Mulder's
hands wail in alarm.

"I figured that out for myself." He told her, jiggling the baby to
quiet it. "Come look."

Besides the baby in his hands, there were three more in the boxes
addressed to him and Scully.

"The letter says they're yours." Reyes told them. "How could that
possibly be?"

"Don't be obtuse, Reyes." Mulder said shortly. "There's been ample
opportunity to gather what's necessary to create babies." What he
wondered more was why there'd been a copy of the letter addressed to
the other two agents. Maybe he and Scully were expected to have their
hands too full to read themselves.

"Why would someone break in here and leave four newborns?" Scully
asked, making Mulder think that she obviously put two and two
together and came up with something other than four.

"I don't know." Skinner told her. "We read the letters before you got
here. And I had blood drawn too, so we can begin DNA tests."

Mulder rolled up his sleeve. "I assume you'll need our blood too."

Skinner shook his head. "Actually, no. We have all of your DNA on
file."

"That's good, I guess." Scully said faintly, looking at the babies
without much emotion in her gaze.

Mulder looked at them too, wondering what would happen next.

"All of?" Doggett asked, looking confused. "Why do you say that?"

"They could have gotten. . .samples. . . from you too." Scully pointed out.
"Both of you have spent a lot of time in the hospital since joining
the X-Files."

After anxiously peering around the room, Doggett had confidently
declared, "But there aren't any other babies here."

"Yet." Scully said grimly.

Little did Doggett know then that Scully had been right about
everything.

**

Shortly after New Years the final confirmation came in that the four
infants were indeed the offspring of Dana Scully and Fox Mulder, just
as the letter had said; though they'd long since taken the infants
home with them. That confirmation, and with it the assurance that
they didn't need to turn the babies over to anyone,  had lead to a
scramble to buy a house so they'd have somewhere large enough to
raise not one, but five little kids.

"And I'm going to be in debt until I die." Mulder muttered to
himself.

"What?" Doggett asked, blinking the way people do when you interrupt
their thoughts.

"Ah, I was just thinking about when Scully and I bought the house."

"Maybe Monica and I should have done that." Doggett said wistfully.

Unlike Mulder and Scully, Doggett and Reyes had not been romantically
entangled when their own surprise package arrived after another
break-in a year later. After long discussions, they agreed to each
raise one of their twins, and Doggett had asked to take the girl
because she didn't look nearly as much like his dead son as the boy
did.

"You still could." Mulder suggested.

"After three years? She'd think I was insane for suggesting it."
Doggett replied with a deep frown.

"Who knows, maybe Santa will bring you triplets for Christmas, and
you'll get to revisit the subject." Mulder was surprised that Doggett
didn't hit him.

"Someone made these kids and brought them to us, all right, but I'll
bet dollars to donuts that it wasn't Old Saint Nick. Mulder,
seriously. How often do you think about investigating the X-Files in
the back of your van?"

"Never." Mulder said promptly.

"Never? Come on, be serious."

"If I think too hard or look too long, they might bring more." Mulder
said with a shiver. "Ignorance may very well be bliss."

"Aww, Mulder. The kids aren't that bad."

Eyes on the road, Mulder wasn't sure he fully agreed. The kids were
healthy and smart, and every one of them was a handful.

**

Meanwhile. . .

Something irritated the dreamer's slumber. Scrunching her eyes more
tightly the woman whined softly and tired to block it out.

Beep. . .beep. . .beep. . .

It finally became so insistent that she did open her eyes. Everything
was a fuzzy blur, like the time she'd borrowed her cousin's thick
glasses and looked through them when they were ten.

Moving her arm, she found that she barely had the strength to do so.
How long had she been sleeping? The beeping eventually registered.
She was in the hospital. She couldn't remember getting sick, or
having an accident, so the lack of recall coupled with being so weak
suggested that it had been an accident that had her in the
uncomfortable bed. She'd probably been there for a long while, too.

It was weak too, but her other arm worked, and when she flexed her
knees, they responded. Apparently she wasn't too badly hurt, then.

Looking around the room, she didn't see any sign of a doctor or any
nurses.

"Hey." She croaked rustily, her voice sounding like she hadn't used
it for a long while. "Anyone there?"

Silence greeted her. Gritting her teeth to prepare for pain, she
pulled the IV needle out of her hand, and noted with a shudder that
the liquid in the IV bag wasn't clear, but a sickly greenish-yellow.
Then she leaned back to rest.

After waiting a long while, she got frustrated and decided that she
was going to have to see if she could find anyone to tell her what
was wrong with her.

Her muscles protested sluggishly as she swung her feet over the side
of the bed, and the world tilted too, making her feel woozy. After
white and gray stopped eating the edges of her vision, she gingerly
put her feet on the floor, then held onto the mattress while she
attempted to stand.

Given that she didn't immediately collapse to the floor, she thought
she was making pretty good progress. That in turn made her a little
less scared about being in the hospital without a clue as to why she
was there.

Her feet moved forward in a shuffling gait. She frowned, and then
looked down to see if there was a reason why they were responding so
poorly to the commands she gave them. To her surprise, she couldn't
see her feet.

Blinking in confusion for half a second, she noticed something that
she hadn't before, and it struck her as odd that it hadn't occurred
to her before. She was fat under her hospital-issue gown. Really fat.
That didn't make a lot of sense though, because from what she knew of
prolonged hospital stays, people lost weight while unconscious, not
gained. And her arms were thin too, so why was her belly so huge?

In response to her stupid question, something in her moved. 

Panic instantly flooded her. They'd infected her with one of those
things, and it was going to explode out of her after eating her from
the inside. She held up a trembling hand, expecting to see
translucence.

All she saw was the hand of a typical middle-aged woman. The veins
were ropier than she would have liked, but other than that it looked
like the hand she remembered. When she let her hand drop, it fell on
something metal. A medical chart.

Snatching it up, she leaned against the bed and she opened the chart.

The words in it didn't make a lot of sense at first because it was in
someone's shorthand. Then, as putting together certain words painted
her a picture, her eyes filled with horror.

Inc. History
Dianna Fowley (DF)

Con- March 16th, 2001
Genetic - DF & unknown1
Result - December 24th, 2001
M;  F(still)

Con - April 14th, 2002 
Genetic - FM & DS
Result - December 19th, 2002
M M M F

Con - March 20th, 2003
Genetic - JD & MR
Result - December 20th, 2003
M F

Con - March 30th, 2004
Genetic - AK & MC
Result - December 17th, 2004
F F F

Con - March 12th, 2005
Genetic - DF & unknown2
Result - no implantation

Con - March 20th, 2005
Genetic - DF & unknown3
Result - no implantation

Con - March 30th, 2005
Genetic - DF & unknown4
Result - no implantation
- attempts suspended for 2005

Con- March 29th, 2006

The chart she held with hands that had begun to shake told her
several things. One, that it was at least 2006, so she'd missed
several years of her life if the dates were accurate. Two, while she
was sleeping, her body had been violated, and someone had seen fit to
use her as an incubator, apparently for other people's children. Nine
of them! Now as well, if the movement in her was indication. And
three, somewhere out there, she had a biological child that had
lived. A boy.

What sort of hospital allowed something that monstrous to happen to a
comatose woman? Looking around the cinderblock room, it occurred to
her that maybe it wasn't a hospital at all. "I've got to get out of
here." Fowley muttered to herself. Her eyes spied a robe, so she
grabbed it and put it on, and after some effort got her feet into the
slippers that were on the floor under the robe.

Before doing anything else, she tucked the chart under her arm. Then,
moving cautiously, she edged her way towards the door. It wasn't
locked. Sticking her head out the door, she looked both ways and saw
no one. No one was guarding her, probably because they didn't expect
that she'd wake up.

Well, they were in for a surprise. Keeping an eye out for people who
might try to stop her from getting away, she made her slow way
towards the outer doors.

**

A Mall in DC

"Stand still and be quiet, dammit!" Mulder hissed at the seven
children who were running around making too much noise. A couple
older women glared at him, but most of the other shoppers looked both
approving and relieved.

His own brood knew he was serious, so they instantly stilled and shut
up. Taking their cue from the older kids, Doggett's twins did
likewise.

"You were trying to say?" Doggett asked calmly. 

"I was saying that I was hoping you'd take the girls and William for
a little while so they can pick out gifts - except for gifts William
and Alison will give each other - and I'll take the rest of the boys
to do some of their shopping. Then we can regroup and get the rest of
their shopping done. Eventually."

Sighing, Doggett nodded his head. "We really need to work this out
with more adults some year."

"Yeah. This is proving to have a steep learning curve." Mulder
agreed. Bending down, he addressed his only daughter and William.
"You two behave for John. If you don't, Santa is going to find out."

Wide-eyed, Alison gave him an innocent look. "He will?"

"Yeah." William piped up. "Santa's gots GPS on us to watch us all by
sadeelit."

Doggett threw Mulder a startled look, but Mulder wouldn't look him in
the eye. Trying not to smile, he instructed William and Alison to
hold Kylie's hands. Within two minutes they disappeared from view.

Mulder turned to survey the remaining kids. Without being asked, Eric
and Brian were already holding hands, and Jeremy grabbed Kevin's
smaller hand. "Okay troops, let's march." Mulder told the little
boys.

Taking him at his word, his sons began to march, and little Kevin did
a fair job imitating them.

For a moment Mulder did feel like he was leading a battle. With luck,
the casualties would be light.

**

A street in DC

Fowley nearly fainted with relief when she got outside unmolested.
She scurried away from the building as fast as she could, which
wasn't very. Still, she was blocks away before long, even though she
had no real idea where she was. Eventually she had to stop and rest,
so she leaned up against a box meant for newspapers.

After a couple minutes of panting, it occurred to her that she could
figure out the date by looking at the newspapers in the box. But
first she shook her head ruefully. Her mind was still sluggish, and
it didn't make things any easier.

The date on the paper said "December 15th, 2006" and it was
definitely a DC paper, so at least she had some idea where she was.
She pulled out the chart and stared at the last entry. No wonder she
was so big, whatever she was carrying was going to be born soon,
which was all the more reason to find help quickly.

But who could she get to help her? She'd yet to see anyone to ask for
help, and she didn't have money to use the phone a hundred feet away.
Staring at it gave her an idea, however,  so she hurried over and
grabbed the plastic encased phonebook that dangled from the phone by
a metal cable. Flipping through the pages, she quickly found what she
was looking for.

Mulder, F. 42 Cohanant Street. 555-1993

The number wouldn't do her much good without the fifty cents for a
call, but the address might be an asset. When had the cost of a phone
call jumped from a dime or quarter to fifty cents, she wondered,
annoyed. A few more things like that and she was really going to
start believing she'd been unconscious for years.

She was still hunched over the phonebook when a voice floated towards
her. "Lady, are you okay?"

Straightening up, she ripped the page out of the phone book and
turned towards a concerned face staring at her out a car window. "Not
really."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" The woman asked.

"Do you know where Cohanant street is? I'm in trouble, but if I can
get there, I'll be okay."

"You're not in labor or anything, are you?"

"No."

"Good. I'd of called an ambulance if you were. . .Yeah, I know where that
street is, so hop in."

"Bless you." Fowley said, feeling something other than fright and
confusion for the first time since she opened her eyes.

"What are you doing out here dressed like this?" The woman asked
after putting the car in gear.

"I don't really know. I woke up somewhere strange, and all I know is
that my friend is the only one who can help me figure out what
happened."

"That's terrible! It sounds like you were drugged or something. To do
that to a pregnant woman!" Her rescuer shook her head. "Let's hope
your friend is as helpful as you think."

"Yes, let's." Fowley replied, suddenly feeling quite worn out.

**

A Mall in DC

Eric tugged at Mulder's hand after they left one of the toy stores
with bags. "Aren't we gonna go see uncle John now?"

"No. First we're going to go to one of the gift wrapping stations and
get this stuff wrapped."

"How come?" Jeremy demanded to know.

"So no one cries if someone sees their present before Christmas."
Mulder explained. That had happened last year - Brian had seen what
Alison had got him, and they'd both cried over it.

"Oh yeah." His son agreed, perhaps remembering the incident as well.

"Does we gets to pick the paper?" Eric asked.

"I think so."

"Yay!"

Their excitement was cut short when they saw how long the lines for
wrapping were. Even Mulder felt depressed when he saw Doggett waiting
with three kids, and bags of wrapped presents. He hated to waste the
time, but there wasn't a better way of doing things than having those
guys wait for them.

Fortunately the line moved pretty quickly. Unfortunately the boys
began to argue about who was going to pick which papers as soon as
they moved close enough to see the patterns. To his amazement, Jeremy
suggested that they each pick one paper they liked, so they could
have all the presents they bought wrapped in it, and be able to
identify who gifts were from Christmas morning that way. What amazed
him was that the other kids thought it was a good idea, and they'd
each picked a paper in less than two minutes. He was pleased, but
silently praying that the wrappers didn't run out of each paper
before they got the second half of their shopping done.

In just a few minutes they were able to rejoin the rest of their
party. Alison held up her presents. "Lookit, I got all mine wrapped
in this paper. It was Will's idea."

Mulder smiled to himself when he realized that not only had William
come up with the same idea as Jeremy, the other kids had picked
completely different papers. "Wow, I've got some smart kids." Mulder
told them.

"Yup." They both agreed, smirking at their other siblings.

Doggett and Mulder shuffled the kids, and set off again. A wave of
depression hit Mulder as he looked at the crowds and realized that it
would still be a long while before they were going to leave.

**

42 Cohanant Street

Scarcely five minutes after Maggie Scully dropped Scully off, the
doorbell rang.

Expecting it was her mother coming back, she swung the door open,
saying, "Did you forget something-" Then she stopped dead. "Fowley!"

Fowley didn't look pleased to see her either. "Agent Scully."

"We were told you were dead!" Scully exclaimed. "Years ago."

"Surprise." Fowley's look was grim. "Is Fox here? I was hoping he
could help me."

Scully took the other woman by the arm. "Come in before you freeze to
death."

Once she had Fowley sitting, she stared at her and reminded herself
that this woman was the reason that she'd been able to save Mulder.
That helped tamp down the jealousy that had flared the moment she'd
seen who was at the door. "Mulder is out shopping. I expect him to be
back this evening."

"Oh."

"But maybe I can help you." Scully took note of the woman's enormous
belly. "You're pregnant."

"My, aren't you doctors quick." Fowley said sourly.

"I can't believe it, you're not dead, and you've found someone to
start a family with-" Fowley's sudden bark of laughter made her stop.

"I don't know whose baby this even is." Fowley told her.

Scully was confused, she'd never thought Fowley was that much of a
slut. "You don't know who the father is?"

"No. Or the mother, either."

"You don't know who the mother is??"

"All I know is that I woke up in a faux hospital room today after
being comatose for years, and discovered a chart by my bed that
indicated that this isn't the first time I've been pregnant. Whoever
had me was using me for a living incubator. Apparently I've had
several babies that aren't mine."

Scully turned milk white. "Is that the chart?"

Fowley handed it to her. "Here."

Scully sat down, and ran her eyes down the page, then felt very
faint. "Oh God."

"Oh God, what?" Fowley asked sharply.

Scully's finger stabbed the second entry. "This. That's Jeremy, Eric,
Brian and Alison."

Looking at the entry, Fowley had an epiphany. FM was Mulder and DS
was- "Four down, five to go."

"You're taking this calmly." Scully told her. "I don't think I'd take
it so calmly to find out that I'd carried quadruplets for a woman I
hated."

Fowley didn't correct her statement about hate. "What's done is done.
It's not as though I remember it."

"It doesn't make sense." Scully muttered. "If you've been comatose
for years, you should be too weak to walk, and the babies should have
been punny, sickly little things, not the fairly big - for quads,
anyway - babies they were."

Shrugging, Fowley told her about the IV. "I think it was what they
were feeding me. It wasn't glucose. I couldn't understand most of the
ingredients, but protein was one of them. And it was green."

Across from her, Scully shuddered. "Perhaps it's for the better that
we don't know what it is." Her finger stabbed the page again. "This
one is Kylie and Kevin."

"Who are the parents?" Fowley asked. "I don't know anyone by those
initials."

"Their parents are agents Reyes and Doggett. They joined the X-Files
after. . . after we thought you had died."

Fowley peered down at the list. "AK is Krycek, then, I take it."

"Probably. And Marita." She looked up at Fowley. "Krycek died, um,
too."

A faint smile played across Fowley's lips. "Or so we're lead to
believe."

"I suppose. And this first one. . ."

"Mine, apparently."

"Do you want to find him?" Scully asked her.

"Wouldn't you, if it was your child?" Until the words were out of her
mouth, she didn't realize that she did want to find her little boy.

"I did." Scully said softly, making Fowley give her another sharp
look. "My daughter, Emily. I found her years after she was born."

"Yes. I think Fox mentioned her once." Fowley said in a neutral tone.


"We'll help you any way we can." Scully promised her. 

"Why?" Fowley demanded to know.

Scully shrugged. "Even if you didn't do it willingly, or knowingly,
you've given Mulder and I a lot."

"You have the children, then, I take it?"

"The quads? Yes. Mulder has taken them and their older brother
Christmas shopping."

"You and Fox had a child the conventional way?"

"Something like that." Scully agreed. "William. He's five and a
half."

"My son's age." Fowley said softly, then laughed sharply. "I never
thought those words would come out of my mouth."

"Neither did I." Scully told her. The other woman wondered if she
meant that she never expected to hear Fowley say the words, or if she
herself never thought she'd say them either. She supposed it didn't
matter.

**

Minutes later. . .

Weighted down by bags upon bags, Mulder felt like a pack mule. "Will,
open the door, would you?" He asked, trying to give his oldest the
keys.

"No, I wanna!" Eric shrieked, grabbing the keys first.

"Dad told me to!"

"Nuh uh, he gave the keys to me!"

"You took them, he didn't give them to you!"

"One of you open the door!" Mulder shouted above their squabbling.

Looking contrite, Eric gave the keys to his brother, then waited for
William to work the lock.

Apparently unaware of their father's self-comparison to beasts of
burden, the five kids ran into the house ahead of him without
offering to take anything in. Mulder sighed and lugged everything
into the house.

Because the bundles obscured his sight, he could only wonder at first
what lady Eric was talking about when he asked his mother, "Who's the
lady?"

"An old friend of Daddy's." Scully told the boy, sounding oddly
nervous to Mulder's ears.

A somewhat familiar voice remarked, "They look just like him. Except
the girl."

Something nagged him about the voice, because the woman sounded a lot
like Diana, and he didn't know anyone else that did. Therefore, it
shouldn't have come as a shock to walk into the room and have Fowley
look up at him with a grim smile, and say "Hello Fox."

But it did.

"Diana! You're not dead!" He said, staring at the woman who was
apparently dressed in some of the sweat clothes he meant to return
because they'd been too large for him.

"People keep saying that." She said dryly. "You all sound so
disappointed."

"Um. . ." Mulder stammered.

Scully stood up abruptly and looked down at the abnormally quiet
children. "Nap time. Come on."

For once not one of them protested, but followed their mother
docilely, so Mulder realized that he wasn't the only one shopping had
taken a lot out of.

"Where have you been for the last seven years?" He asked Fowley after
collapsing onto the couch.

"Apparently I've been hooked up to life support and used as an
incubator while comatose." Fowley told him, sounding way too calm, in
his opinion.

"So it was you." He replied softly. "We always wondered where they
came from."

"Surprise. I know I was." She put her hand on her belly, as if to
make it clear that she'd not just developed a fiendish interest in
sweets. "If not for this, I would have thought that the chart I found
was some sort of terrible joke. This, and the massive scars on my
belly. I guess whoever delivered the babies I carried before wasn't
too concerned about how I'd look in a bikini."

"They're already asleep." Scully announced when she returned. She sat
next to Mulder and possessively threaded an arm around his waist.
"Shopping wore them right out, I guess."

"It did me too." Mulder confessed. Turning to Fowley, he asked, "Do
you have any idea when you're due?"

"Apparently I was. . .used again, in March. So, very soon."

"Especially if there's more than one fetus." Scully said. "Which
seems to be the pattern."

"Unfortunately." Fowley agreed, while squirming to get comfortable.

"I can pull some strings to access a portable ultrasound machine, so
we can check on that for you."

"Check on it where, then?" Fowley asked, keying in on the word
portable.

"Here, of course, since you'll be staying with us." Scully told her,
and Fowley's eyes widened in shock. "There's bad blood between us,
but not enough for me to turn out a woman days away from giving
birth. You'll stay here until the babies are born. Then we'll talk
about what happens next."

**

The following day Scully had Mulder lug in the ultrasound she managed
to sweet-talk someone into lending her.

"Well, are you ready for me to take a look and see what you've got in
there?"

Fowley cast her an apprehensive look. "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"That it isn't human. Or they, probably."

"Why would you worry about that?" Scully asked, reaching for the
bottle of medium she'd set by the bed. "You've seen the quads, and
while they might occasionally act like little monsters, they're fully
human."

"Yes, but they're yours and Fox's. I don't know whose babies these
are. Who do you think fathered my son? It says unknown for a reason."

"You're beginning to sound as paranoid as Mulder."

"Don't you think I've earned the right to be a little fucking
paranoid?" Fowley yelled. "I mean, look at me dammit! Someone kept me
alive as their science project for seven goddamn years!"

"I know. I know." Scully said soothingly. "I wasn't thinking."

Scully's admission deflated her. "Let's get this over with." Fowley
sighed tiredly, and raised the hem of her shirt.

After a moment of moving the wand, Scully smiled down at the other
woman. "It looks like three perfectly normal -human- babies. Probably
a boy and two girls."

"No alien fetuses?"

"Doesn't look like it." Scully assured her, wondering if Mulder had
told her about what he and Doggett had found in her obstetrician's
office.

"Good. Now all that's left to do is give birth, find their parents,
and have them taken off my hands." She stared down at her belly. "The
sooner the better. You're a doctor, couldn't you do a c-section or
something?"

"That's not really in the best interest in the babies."

"Do you honestly think I'm thinking about their best interest? I just
want my damn body back."

"But what if they're yours?" Scully asked her. "You'd feel terrible
if you delivered them before they were ready and it caused them
problems if they're yours."

"What are the odds of that?" Fowley snipped. "One in ten at best. But
all right. I'm suddenly not feeling in the mood for abdominal
surgery."

It won't be long either way." Scully promised her.

"Easy for you to say." Fowley grumbled.

**

"So," Mulder began in a conversational tone. "Before you became a
pawn in the evil schemes you were a player. Can you think of anyone
who might still be involved?"

Fowley shook her head, making her unusually short dark hair move like
a curtain. "They're all dead."

"Who do you mean? Humor me." He added when she gave him a look.

"Your father, of course. He's the one who got me involved. Alex
Krycek. To a lesser degr "He's not dead." Mulder told her.

"Which he?"

"My half-brother, Spender. He resurfaced about five years ago. All
scarred to hell, too. Another of their special science projects."

"I doubt he'd still be involved, in that case." Fowley commented.

"Don't be so sure. I have a feeling that trying to leave the
consortium is a lot like leaving the mob. I'll give him a ring."

Mulder left the room to make his call, leaving her on the couch. She
leaned her head back, and caught herself thinking of beached whales.

Tiny noises alerted her that the kids were creeping back into the
room in their father's absence, like roaches when the lights went
out. She didn't mind their peeping, but she hoped that none of them
would try to talk to her again. Every time they did she quickly found
herself inexplicably tired. Maybe it was because there were so many
of them, and her own boy wouldn't make her feel that way.

Her own child. She'd carried him the same as these, yet even without
having seen him, yet, she felt a sort of possessiveness, or perhaps a
proprietary interest.

Looking at her ex-lover's children, she felt absolutely no connection
to them, as if they were strangers off the street, not denizens of
her womb for most of a year. It was just as well, given that they
were well cared for, and she would never want them.

"Scram." Mulder said authoritatively as he returned, and giggles
accompanied little footsteps.

"Spender will be here tomorrow."

"He knows something?" Fowley struggled to sit all the way up.

"I think he might know everything." Mulder said grimly.

**

The following afternoon

Mulder and Scully's children were thrilled to death that Kevin and
Kylie had accompanied their parents when they arrived. Soon all seven
of them were running around, shrieking, and making a large mess of
the playroom. Their parents barely noticed because they were more
concerned with the man who was walking towards the house. The kids
were sent back to play as Mulder opened the door for him.

Everyone but Fowley looked shocked when Spender walked into the
house. To Fowley he looked no different than she remembered, which
was what everyone else was struggling with.

"Now I understand your motive to continue working with them." Mulder
said humorlessly.

"Well, I don't! After everything they did to you, how could you go
back to them?" Scully asked, giving Mulder a vivid mental picture of
her asking friends the same question about abusive boyfriends or
husbands.

Jeffrey Spender pointed to his face. "I know many women didn't
consider this much to look at before my injury, but it was, and is, a
hell of a lot better than looking like a damn monster. You would make
a deal with a devil too, if you were in my shoes."
 
Mulder wanted to deny that claim, but he wasn't sure that he was all
that more noble   than Spender when it came down to something like
that. No one else objected either.

"What do you know about what was done to Fowley?" Mulder demanded of
his younger half brother.

"They said that she could still be useful to the project." Spender
said calmly.

"But I was told she was dead!" Scully cried.

"Of course you were. If you plan to use a comatose woman in an
insidious breeding program, you don't want people out there looking
for her, do you?"

"I suppose not."

"But why did they do it?" Mulder asked.

Spender shrugged. "It seemed like an opportunity. If you use a woman
who is not only comatose, but loyal to the project, you don't have to
worry about messes later, like having to kill off the mothers to keep
them from leaking secrets. Otherwise healthy comatose women don't
often fall into your lap."

"They do if you're the one who shoots them." Scully muttered darkly.
 
"True enough." Spender agreed. "I suppose Diana and I are lucky that
my father was a poor shot."

This elicited a bitter bark of laughter from Fowley. "Thank god for
small favors, I suppose you mean. Tell me, Jeff, what was the point
of what they used me for?"

"After decades of controlling people, they realized that the easiest
people to control were parents. Tie a person down with a kid or four,
and they become a lot more cautious. Less nosy. So they handed out
children like leashes." He stopped and looked at the two nephews of
his who were currently climbing on their parents. "I'd say that their
scheme worked well."

Scully nodded slightly, and asked. "Why were they all born in
December?"

Spender shrugged. "By its very nature, December is the most chaotic
month of the year.  When better to throw your foes even more off
balance?"

"It worked." Doggett said, watching the rest of the kids sneak back
into the room, too.

"What about my son?" Fowley asked. "What was he made for? It's clear
from the way that I was unguarded that no one expected me to wake up,
so they weren't trying to tie me or good ole 'unknown' down."

"No. . .  Your son was an opportunity for a different sort of project:
hybridization."

Turning her head towards Scully, Fowley said "I told you!" but there
was no triumph in her voice.

Scully in turn sounded defeated. "The boy isn't human."

"Go ahead and say it." Fowley encouraged angrily. "I know you're all
thinking it. My child is a monster."

"Not being entirely human doesn't make him a monster. Emily was a
hybrid." Mulder reminded everyone. "And human as far as anyone was
concerned."

"The boy is slightly more alien than Emily was." Spender pulled
something from his pocket and handed to Fowley. "He can pass too,
though. Now."

"Now?"

"He looked more like his. . .  father. . .  as an infant."

"You've seen him?" Fowley asked without looking up from the picture.

"Many times." Spender replied.

"Am I carrying another baby like him?" Fowley asked, running her
thumb along the edge of the photo. "I know from the chart they spent
all of March last year hoping I'd carry another hybrid to term."

"I believe it's possible." Spender admitted. "That did seem to be
their goal, and I don't expect it's changed much. But I doubt it's
more than one of the fetuses. The. . .samples are hard to come by, and I
don't think they'd risk more than one hybrid embryo at a time after
the first time."

"My stillborn daughter." Fowley acknowledged. "That's a shame, but
the boy lived. I want my son. Get him for me, Spender." She demanded.

"I can't-" He held up a hand to stem off argument. "But I can get
someone in there."

"We'll do it." Doggett announced, and winced when Reyes kicked him in
the shin. "Monica, we owe her. We wouldn't have the twins if not for
her."

Mulder smirked to himself but they pretended not to notice. Nothing
was stopping them from making kids in the usual fashion. Still,
despite having split the kids up, they did both seem happy to have
them.

Reyes frowned at Doggett but told Spender. "Yeah, we'll do it."

"Thank you." Fowley said softly.

"Good. You should go for the child on Christmas eve." Spender
announced.

"Christmas eve? Why then?" Reyes asked plaintively, already thinking
about the typical traffic that night.

"Like everyone else, the boy's keepers want to spend the holiday with
their families. Around three that afternoon they'll leave meals he
can heat himself with a microwave. They won't be back until the 26th,
so I suppose you could wait until Christmas day if you're inclined-"

"No, no" Reyes waved the suggestion off, looking rather alarmed.
"They plan to leave him all alone for a day and a half? He's five!"

"You have to understand, agent Reyes, they consider him an
inconvenience rather than a child. He is an experiment that wasn't
very successful, and keeping him alive is a burden."

Fowley paled noticeably. "Keeping him alive, what do you
mean. . . putting it that way suggests they've discussed the
alternative."

He nodded. "Tentative termination plans have been brought up."

"My God!"  Reyes squeaked.

"Now you understand why I've come forward to assist you. It wasn't
just Mulder's badgering me about 'owing him one' after lying to
Scully about William." He glared at his older brother. "This child's
situation has become dire. It's quite fortunate for him that his
mother chose to rejoin the waking world now."

Mulder wanted to ask if Spender really would have stood idly by had
Fowley not have recovered from her coma state, but he was afraid to
hear the answer.

"Okay, this is how you'll do it. . . " He only half listened as his
little brother explained to his friends how they would go about
rescuing Fowley's son. The rest of his brain was too busy being
grateful that all his children were accounted for.

**

December 19th, 2006

A children's birthday party is an unstoppable juggernaut.

At least that's what Scully concluded when she realized that it was
far too late to cancel the party for the quads fourth birthday. Reyes
had offered to call Doggett and arrange for the two of them to
"forget" to bring the twins over to keep the party a little smaller,
but Scully told her not to. Two more kids just wasn't going to make
much of a dent in the size of the party, so it wasn't fair to deprive
the twins of the party when no one else was going to cancel.

There were a total of seventeen kids there, all under the age of
seven.

Things did seem to go pretty well for the first part of the party,
though Scully and Reyes were kept busy dishing out food while the
guys took on the duty of kid wrangling.

At least until Scully heard a faint voice calling. "Help. . . Oh god,
help me."

The call for assistance was coming from the guest room. She and
Mulder had told each of their kids about fifteen times each not to
"go in there and bother Daddy's friend" but the temptation proved to
be irresistible to all of the kids, even William, who was usually the
best behaved.

It was to Scully's modification, but not surprise, to see what had
happened. Mulder and Doggett were not the kid wranglers that they
bragged to be, because five of their charges had escaped their
supposedly watchful eyes.

Naturally, Alison was the ringleader. "Look, Mommy! It's just like
the book you read us. With Gully's travels." The girl looked rather
proud of their accomplishment.

"Gulliver's travels." Scully corrected absently while she beat
herself up mentally for not taking the camping equipment from the
kids as soon as they opened them. "I want you all to go back to
Daddy. Right. Now." She said in her best growly voice, and all of the
little hooligans scattered.

Then she had to concentrate very hard on not laughing.

Fowley had gone to lie down for a nap. And apparently while she was
sleeping, Alison got the idea to enact the book that Scully now
regretted reading to her spirited children. Using the bungie cords
from the camping set, and the ropes too, the kids had managed to
truss up the sleeping woman just like the Lilliputians had Oliver.

It was a pretty good job for kids that young, but the fact that
Fowley had slept through most of it probably helped a lot. "I'm sorry
they did this." Scully apologized, and her face turned the color of
her hair.

"Just get me free, please."

"Oh, of course. And as soon as I do, I'm going to send Mulder to the
hardware store for a hook latch for the door.

"Thanks. I can't believe a bunch of little kids did this too me."
Fowley looked like she didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

"I'm sort of surprised they didn't think of a way to do it sooner."
Scully confessed. "These kids. . .they're a handful some times."

"But you don't regret the fact that you have them, do you?" Fowley
struggled to sit up once Scully had untied her.

"No, no. I'm glad that if anyone has them, we do. I'd hate for them
to be out there somewhere without us. Like Emily had been."

"Or like my son is." Fowley remarked.

"It's only a few more days until Doggett and Reyes can rescue him,
don't worry."

"But what if I suck at being a mother?" Fowley blurted out.

Scully shrugged. Instead of mouthing hollow reassurances that neither
of them would really believe, she said instead, "Even if you do a
crap job at it, you'll be doing it where he's free, instead of locked
up like he is now."

"Thanks."

"For what?" Scully asked.

"For not lying to me."

"I can't tell you that you'll be a good mom, because I can't see the
future. And the fact that I don't like you much doesn't mean you
won't be a great mom, so I can't tell you that you'll suck, either.
You'll just have to wait and see how you do."

Fowley laughed. "At least no one can accuse you of being a
sentimentalist."

"I suppose not. Why don't you come get some cake? We can ward off the
kids more easily if we can see their target."

"Good plan." As she struggled to her feet, Fowley decided that living
with 'the enemy' wasn't so bad if the enemy had it within themselves
to be kind. She wasn't sure that she would have if their places were
reversed, but then, she and Dana Scully were very different people.

**