Pretensioner ************ Part Four ************ I'm huddled under the quilt, curled into a ball. This time the scent on the pillow doesn't thrill me. It just reminds me what a frigging moron I am. Making a fist, I punch it over and over, venting my frustrations on its fluffy center. There's a soft knock on the door, and then it opens. Sitting up, I see Dana framed in the doorway, the light from the other room shining around her. She fucking glows. Looks like she has a halo. Great! Just what I want -- a nice little talk with Saint Dana. Let's see, what should we chat about? How about the fact that she's fucked up my chances to give this kid a normal life? "You're awake." She smiles, walking over to sit on the side of the bed. Her palm presses against my forehead, then my cheeks. "Are you feeling okay?" I shift uncomfortably, pulling away from her. The last thing I want is her being nice to me. "Yeah, I guess so. . .if you call being knocked up okay," I blurt out. I want to knock her for a loop. She needs to know that everyone's life isn't as perfect as hers. It works, too. Dana's shocked, one of her eyebrows twitching up as she takes it all in. It makes her look like my Sunday School teacher when she caught us skinny dipping at the church picnic. Scandalized, surprised and fascinated, all at the same time. She clears her throat and starts in on me. "Have you seen a doctor?" I shake my head. She rolls her eyes in disgust.  "You must, for the baby's sake as well as your own. If you're pregnant, these weeks are significant to the baby's development. Lack of prenatal care can result in premature delivery or low birth weight." She leans forward, impatiently pushing her hair off her face. "How long have you suspected it?" "About a month. Guess I'd have known sooner, but my period's never regular. It was the puking that made me get a home pregnancy test." I bite my lip hard, remembering those first days, the sickness, and the fear that filled my waking hours. It still does. "You're basing the assumption of pregnancy on a home pregnancy test and vomiting?" She sighs, shifting her position on the bed. "Do you realize how unreliable the tests are?" She touches my face, forcing me to look at her, her fingers cool against my skin.  "Do you?" she repeats, her voice low and intense. She cares.  I can see it in her face.  In spite of my pissy attitude, she cares. That's what finally gets to me.  "I took the test four times.  Four."  I can barely see her face through the tears.  "Four different brands. I saw them change color, become a plus sign, you name it. But the results were the same in every damned one -- pregnant."  I start sobbing, burying my face in my hands. "Don't you know this is the last thing I want right now." She grabs my arms, forcing me to sit up. Then she pulls me forward and lets me cry on her shoulder. I'm nearly twice her size, but she holds me and rocks me, murmuring soothing sounds until my tears are over, and my nose is running like a two-year-olds. Sniffing, I ask, "Does Fox have any Kleenex? I could use one right now." She opens a drawer and hands me a folded white handkerchief. "No, but I think this will do just as well. Now, dry your eyes." Like a good girl, I do as I'm told, mopping up the last of my tears and noisily blowing my nose on the soft cotton. "You already know I think you should see a doctor, but let's say, for sake of argument, you are pregnant. Does the father know?" My face flushes in anger as I shout at her. "No, and he isn't going to! Ricky doesn't need to know. He's a selfish bastard. He'd say it wasn't his. No baby needs an asshole like him for a father." The anger leaves me, and my voice lowers to a shamed whisper. "I hardly know him. We were only together for a week, when he visited his aunt last August." Dana rubs her fingers over her nose, pinching it like she has a headache.  "Ellie, this is hard for me to ask.  I don't want to upset you more, but are you sure Ricky's the father?"  She bites her lip as she waits for my answer. I should be angry, but I know I'm not exactly a saint.  "It could only be Ricky."  My lip curls in distaste as I say his name.  "I hadn't been with anyone for months until he came to town, and in Kansas, well I was trying to change, to be someone different, someone better." "Have you called your family?" she asks, reaching out to grab my hand.  I laugh, not a very pleasant sound.  "Nope.  And I don't want to. My mom isn't the most understanding person in the world.  She'll probably rip me a new asshole." "Is that why you came to Mulder?"  She seems bothered by that.  Whatever impulse led me here is gone now, replaced by shame.  It won't be easy to tell her my reasons, but it's the right thing to do.  I can't let her think Fox wanted me. I take a deep breath and look her in the eye.  "I had an idea.  It was silly, really."  I hesitate, twisting the sodden handkerchief in trembling hands, ashamed to admit the truth. "Go on."  She smiles encouragingly, looking for a minute like a member of the pep squad cheering on an obviously losing team. Swallowing hard, I continue.  "I. . .I thought I could get Fox to marry me."  It sounds so fucking silly when I say it out loud, like some teenager's crush on a movie star -- ridiculous and impossible.  Almost funny, but it doesn't strike her that way.  She gasps, and for the second time in ten minutes I've shocked her.  It doesn't show on her face, but her hands give her away.  They're twisting the hem of her shirt, scrunching it up into a ball then pulling at it like she wants to rip it to shreds. I rush on, eager to end the heavy silence.  "He's a terrific guy, you know?"  She nods, and her hands release the material, smoothing it out.  "I'm real sorry, Dana.  I didn't know you two were hooked up.  I just thought he'd make a great father.  Don't you?" Oh, shit!  She's gonna cry.  Her eyes are glassy and all the color has left her face, making the freckles that are sprinkled over her nose cheeks stand out even more.  She shivers, and closes her eyes for a second. "Yes, he would make a wonderful father."  The corners of her mouth turn up.  I guess it's supposed to be a smile, but it doesn't cut it.  I wish I could crawl into a hole and disappear, so I won't have to deal with this.  Time to change the subject. . . "Did I tell you how I got into Fox's apartment?" She shakes her head slightly, that lost look still in her eyes. "It's so funny.  You know that old fart, the super?  Well, he was a real pain in the ass, wouldn't let me near this place at first.  I actually debated flashing my boobs to see if that would work, but I think he's half blind, so that was out."  I'm babbling, but it seems to be doing the trick. "So, what did you do?"  She sits up straighter, trying to look interested in my story. "Well, I told him I was an FBI informant.  Said it was a matter of life or death, that Agent Mulder was my contact, and if he didn't let me into the apartment I was a dead woman.  That asshole wanted to see ID, but I told him his life wasn't worth shit if he found out my identity.  You should have seen him!  I thought he'd pee his pants!  He let me in, and beat it for the elevator.  I'd bet he's hiding under his bed, but his fat ass probably won't fit." "You're quite...creative."  Dana smiles, the shadows almost gone from her eyes. "Time to get serious again.  You know there are calls you need to make." Shrugging, I reply, "I know. But I'm not up to it right now." "I know how you feel, but it won't get any easier.  The longer you wait, the harder it'll be to tell your family. Don't make that mistake."  She sounds sincere, like she's speaking from experience, but I ain't buying it. "I said I want to wait.  Christ, get a clue!  I'm not ready to talk to anyone."  My hands clench into fists, and it takes all my willpower to keep from screaming the words at her. She sits there, and for a few seconds I allow myself to think I've won this round.  But I haven't. With a deep sigh, she nods her head.  "Okay, if you won't make the calls, you leave me no choice."  She stands, reaching for the phone.  Punching in a few numbers, she looks at me while she waits for an answer, raising her eyebrows questioningly.  I ignore her.  She doesn't scare me.  Not much, anyway. "Dana Scully here.  I need a few phone numbers. . . "  I reach out in panic and disconnect the call.  "Fuck it, give me the phone."  I hold out my hand, fingers wiggling impatiently. Her nostrils flare as her face flushes in anger.  "Excuse me?"  She doesn't hand me the phone. I sigh and count to ten, mentally preparing myself for the shit I have to face.  "I'm sorry, Dana.  You're right.  I need to call them.  I'll do it if you'll give me the phone."  Seeing her hesitate, I add with real sincerity, "Please." The phone is cold in my hand, the buzz of the dial tone an irritating hum in my ear.  With shaking fingers, I punch in the familiar number, lingering over the last few digits like my life depended on it.  Three rings later the phone is picked up, and my breath catches as I hear the voice of my mom. "Hello?" "Hi Mom, it's me.  Ellie," I add unnecessarily, my voice quivery. "Ellie?  This is a nice surprise.  I didn't expect to hear from you until Sunday.  How are you?  Still working at the diner?"  She sounds so happy to hear from me that I want to forget the whole thing and hang up. But if I don't tell her, Dana will. . . "Actually, Mom, I. . . I have some news."  I take a deep breath and then the words come out in a rush.  "I'm gonna have a baby."  It's blunt and to the point, but that's the only way I can do this. Mom's so quiet that, for a second, I think we've been disconnected, but then I hear her breathing. I jump into the silence head first.  "Say something! Tell me you're disappointed in me, you're too old to be a grandmother, you hate me, anything!"  My voice cracks on the last word. I hear her sigh, her disappointment and disapproval coming through loud and clear, but when she speaks I'm surprised by the concern I also hear in her voice.  "You come right home, Ellie.  This is where you belong.  Don't worry about the bus fare, I'll wire you the money. . ." I interrupt.  "I'm in Virginia, Mom.  Don't ask, it's a long, boring story.  I've got my car, and I'll start for home tomorrow." "Do you think you should be driving in your condition? And how long have you known about this?  I am surprised. . . " I tune her out, as she drones on. This is the mother I know and love, the bossy but ultimately forgiving one. Turns out calling my mom isn't as horrible as I'd expected. This isn't how she'd pictured my future, but hell, neither did I. And she actually seems excited about the baby. About being a grandmother, too, though I think she'd be happier if she could add a son-in-law to the family tree. Now comes the really hard part -- calling Kansas. Dialing that number and listening to the phone ring and ring hurts. Just as I'm ready to hang up, someone answers. "Hello?" I'd know that voice anywhere. It's Randy's mom. "Hi. It's Ellie." "Oh my God, Ellie! We're so concerned about you, hon. You okay? When you just up and left like that we didn't know what to think. Is everything all right?" I can see her round face and red cheeks, her gray hair is pulled back in a bun. She usually wears these ugly flowered dresses with an apron over them. She always has a smile and a kind word for everyone. I feel like a real shit for worrying her. "I'm okay, Mrs. Stevens. It. . .it was some family stuff I had to take care of. I'm sorry I didn't say anything before I left. It sorta came up all of a sudden. I really didn't mean to worry you." I hesitate, then ask the question nearest to my heart. "Is Randy okay?" "Hon, he's beside himself with worry. I'd let you talk to him, but he's at the shop. He'll be real upset that he missed you. Maybe you could call him there?" I know she wants me to, but I can't, not right now. I miss him, and it hurts too much, knowing I can never have him. Again, I'm crying, tears falling so fast I can't see, can't talk, nothing. I drop the phone on the bed and bury my face in my hands. Dana picks up the receiver. Though I can hear her voice, I don't know what she's saying. I can't concentrate on her words. All I can think of is Randy. I've been trying to put him out of my mind. I know there's no future for us. He can't possibly love someone like me, and talking to him would just hurt too fucking much right now. ". . .Ellie's fine, really." I realize that Dana is still talking to Randy's mom. "We'll be in touch. No need to worry, I promise. Take care." She hangs up the phone and turns to me, all intense and shit. The look in her eyes reminds me of my mom, ready to read me the riot act after I've missed curfew. "How long has it been since you've eaten?" "I don't remember. Besides, every time I eat, I throw up." Shaking my head, I wonder aloud, "Why do they call it morning sickness when it lasts all damn day?" Dana looks upset. She's shifting from one foot to another, and her hands are clenched by her side. I think she wants to shake the hell out of me. "Ellie, you need to take better care of yourself. I know you're not prepared for motherhood. But you have a responsibility to this child, and you need to take it seriously." She crosses her arms, and for a second her eyes have a far away look in them. Sighing, she continues her lecture. "I'll make you an egg and some toast. Get back into bed." Turning on her heel, she leaves the room. It seems strange to be here. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and change things, make different choices. Like going to the community college the way my mom wanted me to. Like not sleeping with that dickhead, Ricky. Like listening to that mechanic who said my car was shot. But if I did those things then I'd never have met Randy. He made me believe in myself, and let me know that I was special. Most guys I'd known before only cared about what I could give them. But he was different. All he wanted was for me to be happy. He's the kindest, gentlest man I've ever known. I love him. That's the real ass kicker. Finally finding someone who cares about me, and who I love too, and there's nothing I can do about it. Because no matter how terrific a guy is, you can't ask him to love somebody else's baby. That's more than you have the right to expect from any man. ****** Nothing is worse than waking up alone. Unless it's waking up alone with the mother of all headaches. My first mistake is opening my eyes. The blinds are pulled up, and the bright sunlight flooding the room sears my retinas with its intensity. I quickly press my forearm over them, blocking out the worst of it, but the damage is done. I am now aware of how much my head hurts, a pounding pain so acute that it feels as if someone is hitting me with a sledgehammer. A moan escapes me. A hangover? I shouldn't have a fucking hangover. I drank vodka last night! You don't get hangovers when you drink straight vodka. I was sober when I went to bed -- well, nearly sober. Maybe it was those couple of beers I had with the Chinese food. . . Groaning in earnest, I gingerly sit up and cradle my head in my hands. I can't remember exactly how much I had to drink. It was more than enough to make me pretty much wasted by the time I got home. I hear footsteps cross the room, and the couch dips as a warm body sits next to me. "You're awake." Scully rests a cool hand against the back of my neck. "Headache?" "No thanks, I already have one." Rocking slowly, I whimper into my hands, swearing to myself that I will never drink again. She suppresses a laugh. "Here, this should help. Open your mouth." "Can't. I'd have to move my hands and leave my eyes unprotected. I've already suffered third degree burns to my eyeballs." My words are muffled as I continue to shield my face from morning's assault. Scully sighs in exasperation. "Mulder, sometimes you can be such a baby!" She stands and steps over my legs. Seconds later, I hear the rattle of blinds, and realize she's taken pity on me and returned the room to blessed darkness. Back beside me, she pulls my hands down. "Come on, Mulder, the quicker you swallow these the sooner you'll start to feel better. I can't afford to have you incapacitated." She drops two ibuprofen into my hand, and holds out a glass. "I want you to drink all of this water, and more if you can." "Oooh, Scully, I love it when you act assertive." Eyes still half-closed, I pop the pills into my mouth, and hold out my hand for the water. Its welcome coldness hydrates the parched wasteland that's my throat and I do as ordered and swallow every drop. "Now lean back." Her hand settles on my shoulder, firmly pushing me until I am resting against the couch. "Close your eyes." "Is this where you surprise me by jumping naked into my lap?" I leer at her, or at least give my best imitation of one, considering my condition. "Shut up, Mulder." Smiling, I rest my head against the couch, closing my eyes. I can feel her leaning over me, that wonderful, feminine Scully-smell surrounding me with its comforting assurance. Something cool and damp is placed over my brow, covering my eyes, and I sigh in pleasure at its contact with my aching head. "So good, Scully. Feels so good." I can almost hear her smile. "You know, I really should let you suffer. You acted incredibly stupid yesterday." "Yeah, well, I had provocation, remember?" My fingers find hers, and I pull her into me, curving my other arm around her shoulders. She nestles against me with a contented sigh. "Yes, you're right. It wasn't fair, and it went against everything we'd agreed on when we started this relationship." She twists her body around and climbs into my lap. "But, Mulder, it really ticked me off to see you just sitting there while I struggled with those expense reports. We're supposed to share the paperwork, remember?" Lifting the cool compress from my eyes, I squint at her in surprise. "Funny you should mention sharing, Scully. While you were busy doing your thing, I was finishing field reports. Do you realize that spell check doesn't cover words like 'exsanguination' or 'biodiversity'?" Stiffening, she attempts to crawl off my lap but I won't let her. Her struggles last for a few seconds before she collapses back against me with an angry snort. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I spent most of the day on the damned expense report, while you were busy eating seeds and staring at the ceiling." The humor of the situation suddenly hits me. I start to smile, and receive a sharp poke in the stomach as punishment. "Hey!" I yelp. "What the hell was that for?" "I fail to see the humor, Mulder." A wave of red washes over her face, and she bites her lip in frustration. "You could have told me. . ." I cut her off roughly. "When could I have told you, Scully? I figured it was worth my life to interrupt you. And later, well, you nearly bit my head off because I had the audacity to tease you. After that. . ." I shrug, the episode still a sore point with me. She sighed, and her hand cups my jaw, her thumb circling softly over my lips. "You're right. I said it before, and I'll repeat it now -- that wasn't fair. I'm sorry, Mulder." My eyes widen in amazement. Scully apologizing? This is unexpected. Several smart-ass comments sit on my tongue, aching to be spit out, but I resist the impulse. I don't want to pick up my teeth with a broken arm. This is one time where less is definitely more. "Apology accepted. And I'm sorry, too." I murmur the words against her thumb, punctuating them with a kiss. "You know, Mulder, this non-verbal thing isn't all it's cracked up to be. Maybe we should try sticking to a more conventional form of communication ." Her droll observation is delivered with the quirk of an eyebrow. "It could save us a lot of trouble in the future." Sliding my hand along her back up to her neck, I thread my fingers through her hair, supporting her head. Her lips open slightly as our eyes meet, and I move the few inches necessary to kiss her. Teasing her with the lightest of pressure, she moans in frustration until I deepen the kiss. When it's over, her breathing is rapid and shallow, and the flush on her cheeks has nothing whatever to do with anger. Lying back against me, she tucks her face into my neck with a contented hum. "Of course, I could be wrong about that." I laugh out loud at her words. "We do have our moments." My head is again resting against the couch. Though the headache hasn't left completely, it isn't nearly as severe. I think I'm going to live. "Mulder? We still have to talk." Her voice is troubled, and my chest tightens as I wait for her to continue. "There's something you need to know, and I'm not exactly sure how to tell you. . ." Scully has my undivided attention now, and I prepare myself for the bad news. "I. . .I spoke to Ellie this morning." Oh, yeah, Ellie. I forgot about her. If it's only about her it can't be too bad. . . I think. "There's something you need to know." Scully sits up, her tone taking on a serious inflection. "She's pregnant, Mulder." "Pregnant?" Choking, I look at her in amazement. ***** End of Part Four   Go to Part Five -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feedback is appreciated -- E-mail All4Mulder@aol.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back to the Series Page -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back to main fic page