TITLE: Great Expectations 13: Size Doesn't Matter
AUTHOR: bellefleur
EMAIL ADDRESS: bellefleur1013@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: sure
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: V
KEYWORDS: UST
DISCLAIMER: Not mine; they belong to CC, FOX, etc.  
SUMMARY: Scully's discomfort increases daily, so Mulder 
comes up with a plan.

Notes: Thanks to my beta UnderMySkinner (X-PhileChick#35).  
All previous parts for this series can be found at: 
www.geocities.com/bellefleur1013/Great_Expectations_toc.html

* * *
* * *

All was quiet on the home front when Mulder made his way 
into the apartment, but it didn't take long for him to 
catch sight of Scully, nearly doubled over on the edge of 
the couch.  Her face was hidden by her hands and her 
shoulders were shaking from barely audible sobs.  Panic 
seized him, and in just a couple of long strides, he was 
kneeling in front of her.  

"Scully, what is it?  What's wrong?  Are you in pain?"

Her head shot up to reveal a red, splotchy face overwritten 
with surprise, as though she hadn't heard him come in.  The 
shock quickly wore off and her expression began to crumple 
again.  Instinctively, Mulder reached out to stroke the 
misery from her face, which was all the invitation she 
needed to throw her arms around his neck and bury her face 
in his shoulder just as her sobs started anew.  

"It's okay, I'm here now."  He spoke gently into her ear 
while his hands stroked up and down her back to soothe her.  
Although he was trying to sound calm for her sake, he felt 
anything but.  "Can you tell me what's wrong?  What's 
happened?"

He listened patiently to Scully's hitched breaths while she 
tried to regain enough control to speak.  Eventually she 
was able to squeeze out: "I'm just so tired."

Now that Mulder realized the crisis was not medical but 
emotional, his heartbeat finally started to return to 
normal.  "I know.  I'm sorry you're stuck here like this--"

"No, Mulder."  She pulled back so he could see her face, 
even more red and puffy than when he had first walked in.  
"I just want to sleep.  I'm so tired and I just want to 
sleep.  But I can't...."  Another sob escaped, and she 
stopped talking until she could get herself back under 
control, although the tears continued to drip down her face 
one by one.  "I can't get comfortable.  My back aches, and 
my hips are sore, and I'm supposed to lay on my left side 
for the circulation, but I can't, I just can't lay on the 
same side hour after hour because it makes my shoulder 
hurt, and--"  She stopped long enough to drawn in another 
hitched breath.  "And the babies keep poking me, and I just 
want to sleep, but I can't.  I just can't."

Leaning forward, he closed the distance and drew her back 
into his arms, partially because he was trying not to smile 
and knew better than to let her see that.  He thought, if 
Scully weren't so tired right now, she might see the humor 
in her current behavior, but he knew she would need a 
little more distance from this moment before she could 
share that perspective.  "Oh, God, Scully.  I'm so sorry.  
But we'll see what we can do, okay?  There's got to be some 
way to help you sleep."

"Okay."  Her voice was small and distant, muffled by his 
shoulder, so trusting like a little girl who believed that 
he really could make the monsters go away.  It sounded so 
unlike his Scully, but he imagined that he himself might 
regress a few decades if he felt as exhausted as she 
obviously did right now.

When he felt her relax in his arms and her breathing even 
out, Mulder pulled back and placed a kiss on her forehead.  
"Why don't we start with a change of venue, okay?  Let's 
get you back to bed."

Scully didn't protest but let him help her stand slowly and 
shuffle back toward the bedroom.  Once she was settled on 
the mattress, he stepped into the bathroom and returned a 
moment later with a damp washcloth.  She remained silent 
while he sat down next to her and gently washed her face 
with the cool cloth.  Afraid that her quietness meant she 
was closing off again, perhaps a bit embarrassed about her 
outburst, he made quick work of his ministrations and did 
his best to return to "partner mode."

When he finished, he pulled back but didn't get up yet.  "I 
don't suppose I could talk you into taking anything?"

"You know better than that."

He nodded in concession.  "Can I get you anything?  Warm 
milk?  A vat of chocolate?  Pickles and ice cream?"

The corners of her mouth twitched, but the exhaustion still 
dominated her features.  "No.  I've already tried 
everything I could think of."  She paused.  "Think it's too 
soon to ask for an epidural?"

Mulder chuckled.  At least she still had her sense of 
humor.  "That bad, huh?"

"No, not that bad, I guess.  I'm not in pain, just 
supremely uncomfortable.  Nice to know it'll only get 
worse."

He gave her a sympathetic look and then leaned over and 
kissed her forehead again.  "Why don't you try to rest for 
a while.  I'll do some research and see if we can find a 
solution that doesn't involve knocking you out until it's 
all over with, okay?"

"Mmm, inducing a coma sounds just fine to me.  Let me know 
if you figure out how."

He smiled at her as he rose and headed for the door.  
"Well, there's always the Vulcan nerve pinch."

She just grunted in reply, her eyes now closed and her face 
half-buried in the pillow.  He closed the door gently 
behind him and headed off to find a remedy.  Come hell or 
high water, he'd find a way for her to sleep comfortably 
tonight.

* * *

Scully was sprawled across the couch again when Mulder 
later returned.  Rest still eluded her, but at least her 
morale was slightly better.

Muting the TV while he entered, she was about to ask where 
he'd been, but she was struck dumb as she watched him 
struggle through the doorway with two oversized shopping 
bags.  Once he was through and had kicked the door shut 
behind him, he turned to her and triumphantly lifted the 
two bags at his sides.

"Pillows!"  He was obviously quite proud of himself.

"What?"  In her tired confusion, she didn't quite 
understand his excitement about this. 

He just smiled at her and carried the bags straight to the 
bedroom, answering her as he passed: "Pillows.  Just give 
me a few minutes to get the wrappers off, and I'm sure 
you'll want pillowcases on some of them."

Scully was too weary to try to follow his logic, so she 
just turned the sound back on and continued to channel 
surf.  A few minutes later, Mulder reemerged from the 
bedroom and gently removed the remote from her hand to 
cease the surfing and click the power off.  After dropping 
the device onto the coffee table, he extended both hands to 
her in invitation; she accepted and allowed him to help her 
to her feet and back to the bedroom.

Once they reached the doorway, she stopped and took in the 
sight before her: "Pillows."

There were indeed pillows, of every shape and size, 
covering every inch of the bed.  Some were large bed 
pillows, others were small throw pillows, and there were 
even a few oddly shaped orthopedic pillows, all displayed 
like a haphazard brood around her large body pillow.  
Mulder certainly never did anything halfway.

Having finished her perusal, Scully turned toward him and 
raised an eyebrow, eliciting a chuckle at her skeptical 
response.

Nudging her forward, he guided her to the side of the bed.  
"I know this may not be a cure for all your ills, but it's 
the best solution I could come up with that didn't involve 
drugs or alien technology.  And, best of all"--he took up 
two pillows and shifted them along his body to illustrate 
as he spoke--"they're adjustable."

She couldn't help but laugh at his antics.  Mulder was 
trying so hard to be helpful, and his enthusiasm for this 
solution was no less than if he'd been explaining to her 
that vampires really do exist.  As usual, his faith was 
contagious, and she started to believe that maybe this 
would be the cure for her problem.

"Here--"  He pushed a few pillows out of the way and helped 
her sit and then lie back on the bed.

It took them almost 15 minutes to find an arrangement that 
she was finally happy with, but it eventually led to Scully 
lying on her side in the center of the bed with an 
assortment of pillows stuffed under her head, neck, and 
ankles, between her knees, and pushed up against her on 
every side.  They both knew that it would take nearly as 
long for her to find her way out when she'd have to go to 
the bathroom in half an hour, but neither of them wanted to 
mention that at the moment.

When she was finally settled, Mulder kissed her on the 
cheek and headed for the door, turning off the light on his 
way out.

Since it was only a little after 8:00, Mulder figured he'd 
let Scully rest while he washed the dinner dishes they'd 
each left in the sink and then finished reading the article 
that Byers had e-mailed to him.  But he'd barely stepped 
into the hall when he heard her call out behind him: 
"Mulder?"

He left the light off as he poked his head back in the 
doorway.  "Yeah?"

"Um, I have a problem."

"Do you need help getting up?"  He feared that her bladder 
was already protesting its capacity.  

"No, but...."

The muted light pouring in the doorway illuminated her face 
enough for him to see her uncertain expression as he 
approached.  "What is it?"

"The pillows behind my back won't stay in place.  I can 
hold on to the ones in front, but the ones behind me...."

Reaching around behind her, Mulder tried to wedge the 
pillows in tighter.  "Is that better?"

"Well, kind of, but not really...."

She was clearly hesitant to say what she wanted to.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me, Scully."

There was a pause, and then she asked timidly, "Can you 
stay here and hold the pillows in place?"

The little girl voice was back.  He smiled at her tentative 
request and replied gently, "Of course I can.  Just give me 
a minute."

After sweeping through the apartment to lock up and turn 
off the lights, Mulder returned to the darkened bedroom and 
stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt before climbing 
into bed behind his partner.  Between her bulk and the 
mountain of pillows, there was very little room for him on 
the mattress, but he wasn't about to tell her that.  
Spooning up behind her, he wedged the pillows firmly 
against her back--his derriere almost hanging off the 
mattress, even pressed up as close to her as he could get.

"Better?"

"Mmm.  Much."

He was pleased to finally hear contentment in her voice for 
the first time all evening.  Even though sleep would be 
long in coming for him, he had no complaints about joining 
her in bed so early.  Reaching over to rest his hand on her 
abdomen, he cuddled in as close as he could and listened to 
her breathing slow until she finally drifted off to sleep.

Although proud that his mountain of pillows seemed to do 
the trick, Mulder couldn't help but be dismayed at Scully's 
latest tribulation.  In most respects, it was a good thing 
that she had made it to almost 35 weeks without going into 
labor yet, but there seemed to be no end to her discomfort.  
He just wished there was something he could do to cheer her 
up.  What he really wanted was to finish the nursery so he 
could finally show her the new house, but first, he had to 
get the cribs (*Bill's* cribs)--and the changing table 
(*Frohike's* table)--moved in, which was anything but 
simple considering the fact that Scully rarely left the 
apartment.  

But something had to be done.  It was time to come up with 
a plan.

* * *

"Well, what do you think?"

Maggie rotated slowly, taking another long look around the 
spacious living room.  Calling this the "great room" would 
be an understatement, and the rest of the house was by no 
means shabby in comparison.  A lifetime of naval housing 
had taught her to make any house into a home, but that 
never stopped her from dreaming about having a place of 
this size in which to raise her four children.  When she 
completed her revolution, she was met with Mulder's anxious 
expression and hastened to reassure him.  

"Oh, Fox, it's beautiful.  I just can't get over how large 
it is."

Her praise seemed not to assuage him.  "You think it's too 
much?"

She contemplated her words carefully.  "I think 
it's...quite a gift.  I don't mean to pry, but are you sure 
you can afford this?"

He gave half a shrug, and his eyes dropped to watch his 
hands nervously pick at a hangnail.  "My father left me 
some property on Martha's Vineyard.  It was about time I 
sold it.  I know, I probably went a little overboard, but 
it's so hard to find a place with a sizeable yard around 
here, and when I saw this one, it had Scully--I mean Dana--
written all over it.  It's just--I mean, I owe her so much, 
and giving her this is the least I could do, and I know it 
seems like a lot, but--I want the kids to have a nice place 
to grow up, and--"

With a gentle touch to his arm, Maggie halted his rambling.  
She leaned in to meet his eyes and graced him with a warm 
smile.  "It's a very thoughtful gift.  I couldn't think of 
a better place to raise a family."

Relief washed over his face, and his eyes began to twinkle 
with hope.  "Do you think Dana will like it?"

"I'm sure she'll love it.  But are you ever going to tell 
her?"

Now his eyes truly lit up, and he answered with enthusiasm, 
"Actually, that's why I asked you to meet me here.  I have 
a plan."  

Maggie knew enough about her daughter's partner to be 
slightly worried by this.  He apparently read her concern 
and hurried to explain himself.  "You see, Scully's been so 
down lately that I thought we should do something to cheer 
her up, like a shower."

"A baby shower?"

Mulder's exuberance waned slightly at her dubious tone.  
"Yeah.  I mean, there's nothing better to raise your 
spirits than a surprise party, right?"

Pacing toward the window, Maggie shook her head slightly.  
"Oh, Fox, I don't know.  I thought it would be better to 
wait until after the babies were born."

He stepped toward her, recapturing her gaze.  "I know 
you're worried about her overdoing it--so am I--but she 
really wouldn't have to do anything but sit back and 
receive the gifts.  Look, I've even got this great 
recliner."  He eagerly plopped into the overstuffed leather 
chair behind him and popped out the foot rest to 
demonstrate.  "She can just sit here with her feet propped 
up.  Plus, it has a cup holder."

"So, you're thinking about having it here."  She wasn't so 
sure about this "plan."

Mulder gave up on wrestling the arm rest closed over the 
cup holder and stood back up.  "Yeah, that way we can set 
it up without her knowing.  I'll have some guys come over 
to the apartment and move the cribs while we're at the 
appointment on Friday, so the nursery will be finished when 
she sees it.  Then, on the way home, I'll bring her here 
instead, and, 'Surprise!'"

"Are you going to tell her about the house first?"

"Well, uh, no.  I thought I could break that news after 
she's seen the inside.  Besides, I figure she can't really 
blow up at me if I tell her in front of an audience."  He 
smiled at her sheepishly.

She had to admit, he did have a point there.

* * *

"Scully, are you ready yet?  We really need to go."  The 
jingling of keys only accentuated the impatience in 
Mulder's voice.

"I can't find my shoes," she called out to him from the 
bedroom.

He appeared in the doorway a moment later.  "Just grab a 
pair.  You've got a whole closet full of them."

She halted in her process of pivoting and scanning the 
room--all that she could do in her current condition--and 
glared at him.  "No, Mulder, I can't wear just any pair.  
My feet are so swollen they're the size of an elephant's.  
The only shoes I can fit into are my sandals."

"They probably got pushed under the bed."  He tilted 
sideways to look under the edge and then noticed her trying 
to do the same.  "You need to sit down.  C'mon."  With a 
hand on her back, he gently ushered her out of the room and 
toward the front door.  One of the dining room chairs was 
sitting next to the coat rack, where it had taken up 
residence when Maggie was mopping that morning.  He guided 
her to the chair and turned her so she could sit.  "Just 
wait here and I'll go get your shoes."

"Well, hurry up.  We're running late." 

"Didn't I just say that?" he muttered on his way to the 
bedroom, just loud enough for her to hear.

Rolling her eyes at him, Scully shifted in the chair, 
trying to get more comfortable.  She didn't want to lean 
back because it would be more difficult to get up, but the 
hard, wooden surface wasn't doing her lower back any 
favors.  It seemed like the aching was getting worse, 
probably because she continued to add on the pounds each 
week, so she was eager to discuss this with her doctor.  If 
only Mulder would hurry up.  

A small sound at the front door drew her attention away 
from the muffled curses emanating from the bedroom.  The 
noise was like a soft scratching or clicking, not on wood, 
but on metal.  It was almost like...a lock being picked.  

Standing carefully, she shuffled over to the door.  Her 
first instinct was to look through the peephole, but that 
would require shifting her weight forward to stand on her 
tiptoes, and throwing off her center of balance generally 
wasn't a good idea these days.  She didn't have a gun 
handy, and yelling for Mulder would scare off the intruder.  
The one thing she had going for her was the element of 
surprise, so she decided to use it. 

When the door swung open, it was hard to tell which of them 
was more stunned, Skinner leaning over with a lock pick in 
his hand, or Scully staring down at his shiny head.  

"Sir?"

"Uh, Agent Scully."  He straightened quickly, hiding his 
hands behind his back as if that could make the evidence 
disappear.

"Why are trying to get into my apartment?"

His mouth opened once, then twice, but no words came forth.  
Then his eyes shot past her, and she heard Mulder answer 
from behind her.

"I, uh, told him he could stop by to pick up some files, 
and, uh, that he shouldn't knock because he might wake you 
up."

Scully turned and took in Mulder's desperate look, and then 
glanced back at Skinner's guilty one.  "Uh, uh.  I'm not 
buying it."

"Listen, Scully, we're already late, so why don't we go and 
I'll tell you about it on the way."  One of Mulder's hands 
was occupied with her shoes, but the other was free to land 
on her back and gently tried to nudge her out the doorway.

"No."  Scully pivoted away from him and took a step back to 
perch on the chair.  "We're not going anywhere until 
somebody tells me what's going on here."  Her arms crossed 
over her chest to emphasize her point.

A tense silence ensued.  Mulder ran his free hand through 
his hair and let it rest on the taut muscles at the base of 
his neck, while Skinner uncomfortably shifted his weight 
from one foot to another.  

Eventually, the stalemate was too much for their boss.  
"Maybe I should just wait outside."  When there was no 
answer, he decided to follow his own suggestion and stepped 
back into the hall, pulling the door shut after him.

Scully breached the silence.  "Mulder?"

Avoiding eye contact, he sighed and responded, "It was 
supposed to be a surprise, Scully."

"I don't like surprises."

He turned once more to face her, weighing his options 
before announcing: "We're having a baby shower."

"And Skinner came over to help set up?"  The incredulity 
was plain in her tone.

"Uh, yeah."

She perused his face with an interrogator's gaze.  "You're 
telling me that our boss left work early to come decorate 
for a baby shower."

He nodded, but perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

"Try again."

Mulder deliberated and then revealed the next truth.  "He 
came over to help move furniture."

"What furniture?  Are you saying you got an apartment?"

"Not exactly."  Yielding to the inevitable, he set down her 
shoes next to the chair and reached into his jacket to pull 
out a weathered envelope containing a set of pictures.  He 
flipped through a few, hesitated, and then flipped through 
a couple more.  Finally, he pulled one out and handed it to 
her.

As her eyes took in the image before her, Scully gasped 
slightly.  "Mulder, this is the nursery I wanted!  I don't 
understand.  Where is this?"

He took a deep breath and dropped down on one knee to get 
closer to her eye level.  "Scully, I...I bought a house."

Her expression remained blank as she repeated the words 
back to him.  "You bought a house."

"I bought a house."  Her lack of emotion kept him 
optimistic but also slightly on edge.

Scully's eyes dropped to the picture in her hand and then 
met his again.  "This is at the house?"  

He nodded hopefully.  He thought she was taking this fairly 
well so far; but he soon found it was only the calm before 
the storm.

"Do I get visitation rights?"

"What?"  Mulder was genuinely confused, not following her 
train of thought.

"I know you're all adamant about your paternal rights, but 
I never agreed to joint custody.  You can't just take my 
children away from me.  They're living here."  The tension 
in her voice increased with every syllable.

He jumped in to reassure her.  "No, Scully.  You don't get 
it.  The house isn't for me; it's for you--for you and the 
babies."

Her brow crinkled in confusion.  "But I already have a 
place to live.  And a nursery."  She gestured around her as 
she spoke, the picture still clenched in her hand.  

"Wouldn't you like a house?  At least take a look at it 
before you reject the idea.  I promise you'll love it."  He 
held up the packet of photos for her.

"And what if I don't?"  Scully handed back the picture of 
the nursery, not bothering to reach for the others.  "This 
isn't like buying toys or a piece of furniture.  You're 
asking me to move somewhere that you decided on for me.  
Damn it, Mulder, do you even THINK about asking me before 
you make plans for my life?  The next thing I know, you'll 
be telling me that we're already married and you just 
haven't bothered to tell me yet."

"Scully--"

"My God, Mulder, I--"  She stopped suddenly and drew in a 
sharp breath, both hands flying to her abdomen.  A moment 
later she leaned over, cradling her belly.

The packet fell from Mulder's fingers, scattering its 
contents across the floor unnoticed; one hand flew to her 
shoulder and the other encompassed one of her own.   
"Scully, what is it?  What's wrong?  Do you want me to get 
the monitor?"

She shook her head, but there was no "I'm fine" this time.  
The only sound she emitted was a cross between a groan and 
a whimper.

"God, Scully, talk to me!  What's going on?!?"

Through her labored breaths, her response was so quiet that 
he barely made it out: "Sharp pain."

"Mulder?  Is everything okay?"

Looking up in surprise, Mulder saw their boss standing in 
the open doorway, only then realizing that he'd raised his 
voice in his panic.  But his attention soon returned to his 
partner.  He'd seen her experience her share of 
contractions over the past few weeks, but never like this.

"No, it's not.  We need to get her to the hospital.  Now."

"I'll drive."  Without another word, Skinner headed out the 
door.  Mulder knew the car would be running and ready to 
leave the curb once they were outside.

Without a second thought, Mulder got to his feet and swept 
Scully into his arms.  Through his anxiety, his mind 
registered how light she seemed, even with her awkward 
bulk--but, he supposed, that could also be due to the 
overdose of adrenaline he was experiencing.  As he settled 
her in his grip, she was able to get one hand wrapped 
around his neck, but the other remained firmly clutching 
her lower belly.  

The fact that she wasn't protesting any of this only 
alarmed him further.  Not wanting her to know this, he made 
an effort to sound lighthearted. "Hey, Scully, you remember 
my panic face?  I'm making it again."

Her only response was to clasp him even tighter and whimper 
into his neck.

"That bad, huh?"  Rushing into the hallway, he hooked the 
door with his foot to kick it shut behind them, but he 
didn't really care whether it latched or not.  There were 
more important things right now.  "Hold on for me, partner.  
Just hold on."

******
******



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