 | Walter S. Skinner strode down the hallway of the J. Edgar Hoover Office Building with a jaunty stride. Nodding at different agents, he knew it was going to be a good day. He'd gotten an early start, waking before his alarm, which meant he could run a full five miles today.
He walked over to the park near his apartment, stretched his long legs, and then started his run at a leisurely pace. Dressed in a Longhorn sweatshirt with the sleves cut out, baggy gray shorts, and a Seattle Seahawks baseball cap, he was oblivious to the appreciative looks sent his way. One group of six women turned to follow his progress, jogging in place until one middle-aged woman stumbled off the path and into doggy-doo some thoughtless owner hadn't scooped up.
Cursing the mongrol and his dog, she scraped the mess of her new Nike's(tm) while her friends made comparisions between her husband and the Greek god who had passed them. "Hillary, if Bill looked like that, he'd've been re-elected, with or without term limits."
"Humpf," muttered the woman, "if Bill looked like that, he'd never leave the house without me. I'd be attached at the hip."
"Or the pelvis," snickered softly one of the ladies in dark glasses. "Agent...." "Sorry, ma'am."
Of course, none of this concerned Skinner. It was just a nice morning, cool, clear, invigorating. His run made him feel energized, like that damn pink bunny. Today, he could just keep going and going. Nothing was gonna ruin his mood.
So, naturally, he was completely unprepared for Kim when he finally reached his outer office.
"Morning, Kim. What's on the schedule for today." As he reached his door to his inner sanctum, Kim stopped him cold with her first words.
"It's Agent Scully, sir. She's been in a minor accident and she....."
"What? When? Where? Is she all right? Who called?"
"Sir," Kim tried to reassure her boss, "she called herself. She said she got rear-ended by a pick-up truck while she was sitting at a red-light. She said she's fine, but when she called the motor pool to report it, they came out and took the car. So, now she's stranded because she left her purse in the front seat, and she has no way to get here. I told her I'd call a cab to pick her up and spot her the fare. I was just fixing to call for one when you came in."
"She said she was all right? You're sure?"
"Yes, sir. She sounded fine. May I go ahead and call for the cab?"
"Yes, yes," mutters Skinner. "No, wait. Did she give you an address? Maybe I should go pick her up. I mean, it would be faster. You know how long it'll take for them to dispatch a cab, and then there's no telling how long it'll take to get there. And with the weather like it is, it'll be even worse than usual."
"Sir? But it's gorgeous outside, there's no hint of....."
"Kim," Skinner's tone was warning, "are you arguing with me? What's my schedule like? I've got a lunch meeting, but I'll be back way before then. Look, just tell anyone who calls I'm in a meeting with Kersh and I'll get back with them. It this the address? Okay, I'll be back in an hour or so."
Skinner snatches the Post-it(tm) with the address off Kim's desk takes off at a brisk pace. Kim's still standing with the phone in her hand, her mouth slightly open. <What the hell? HE'S gonna pick her up? He's been really strange for a while, now, ever since Agent Mulder disappeared. And Agent Scully's been really moody; kinda sad and forlorn, but still kinda smiling under her breath. Like she's got a secret that's busting to come out.> Kim slowly hangs up the phone. Oh well, her's is not to reason why, her's is but to cover her boss's ass when called upon. But, Lord, what was she gonna do if Kersh calls looking for her Walter?
Skinner all but ran to the parking garage. No nods now, that look of purpose and barely controlled anger made even the bravest agent step out of the way, glad they weren't the one who was going to bear the brunt of that look. Poor b*astard, whoever it was.
Skinner, finally reaching his car, looked at the yellow paper to the address. It was unfamiliar but seemed to be somewhere near the Georgetown medical area. Worry etched his face, was she all right? Was the pregnancy in any danger? Should she see her doctor to make sure everything was all right? He'd insist that she call and at least talk to her physician. Damn, why did Mulder have to get himself abducted now? He couldn't wait until a more advantagous time, like maybe the second Tuesday of NEVER? Calm down, Skinner, this isn't getting you anywhere. She's going to need as much help as she can get while Mulder's missing.
She's puting up a strong front, but he knew how much she was missing Mulder. He wasn't blind to the depths of her feelings for her partner.
He felt such a responsibility for Mulder's disappearance. That's why he was so determined to be there for her as much as possible. Now, if that ass-wipe behind him would hurry up and park so he could get out of his own parking space.....oh, cripes, it's Kersh. Oh, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Just pretend you don't seen him and keep driving.
Skinner wheeled out of the parking garage and into the early morning traffic. Driving as rapidly as traffic would allow, he soon reached the address. On the facade of the three-story building was an oval logo with a woman's face in silhouette, gazing at the bundled infant in her hands. "Women's HealthCare of Georgetown." Oh, Christ, she's hurt worse than she let on to Kim. And standing in the porte-cochere of the building was an ambulance, lights slowly blinking, rear doors open.
Skinner parked illegally across the street and ran into the on-coming traffic, right into the path of a stretch limo with diplomatic plates. The chauffer obviously believed jay-walking pedestrians were fair game and didn't even slow down. Skinner sent him half a peace sign and dodged a VW bus with a rainbow dove painted on the side.
Just as he reached the front entrance of the building, EMS wheeled out gurney with a petite blonde woman sporting a huge abdomen. She was blowing like an out-of-control steam engine. Between breathes she still managed to berate the worried man walking beside her, patting her arm. "This is all your FAULT - hooo hooo hooo - YOU wanted to be Mr. Macho - heeee heeee heeee - who just had to have a SON - haaa haaa haaa." Jerking her arm out of reach of her husband, she let out one enormous whooooooosssssssshhhhhhh. The bored EMS loaded into the back while the man, pale-faced and built like a defensive tackle muttered, "There, there, there. I'll meet you at the hospital, sweet-cakes."
The ambulance slowly pulled out and made it's way leisurely up the street.
A nurse in pale blue scrubs with little pink footprints on it stood with her arms crossed, shaking her head. Her eyes widened as she finally noticed Skinner standing off to one side, following the progress of the ambulance. "Can I help you?" <Oh, baby, can I help YOU? The question is can you help ME?>
"Whoa," whistled Skinner. "Is she ready to deliver? She seemed in a lot of pain. Will she make it to the hospital in time?" He knew his questions were rude, and really didn't expect any answer, but the nurse, who kept running her eyes up and down his body would have given him the woman's blood type and HIV status if he had asked.
"Oh, she's not in labor. She's pissed because she's pregnant for the sixth time and still has seven weeks to go before D-Day. She's got her husband whipped, so he brings her in every time she has any false labor. We usually send her home, but she was really upset today, so her husband called EMS and insisted they take her to the hospital. Labor and Delivery Triage will calm them both down and send them home."
"Wow," said Skinner, "well, I hope he gets his son. For his own sake."
"Nah, that's why she's so upset. It's another girl. Now, can I help you? Are you looking for some?" <Please say it's me.>
"Uh, yes," said Skinner. "I'm looking for Dana Scully. She's pregnant and was in an automobile accident this morning. Where might I find her, Ms....uh, Janie." Her name tag also had the logo of the clinic, along with litle footprints.
<Damn, why are the good-looking ones alway taken. DUH, cause they're good-looking.> "Uh, no, sorry, doesn't ring a bell. Ask there at the front desk. She would have had to sign in, and they can find out which doctor she was going to see. Excuse me," apologized Janie, reluctantly. She'd rather stand here and try to get to know him better, married or not. "I've got another patient on fetal monitor. Good luck, Mr. Scully." She walked rapidly toward the front entrance, hung a left and entered a door marked "Fetal Monitoring", behind which Skinner could hear what sounded like horses galloping.
"My name's not Scull.....", but she was already out of hearing range. Skinner approached the front desk slowly. There were at least five women with varying degrees of belly, all signing in. The large waiting room had about 50 chairs, half of them filled with women; three or four men were scattered among them, all looking uncomfortable, as if they had been caught farting in church. Several of the women had large plastic carriers in the seat next to them, covered with pink or blue or yellow shawls. These women all had smug, triumphant looks that said, "Ha, ha, I'm over and done, and you're NOT" looks on their faces.
Finally, Skinner's turn with the receptionist. "I'm looking for Dana Scully? She's pregnant (the receptionist gives him a no-sh*t Sherlock look) uh hum, pregnant and she was in an accident this morning."
"I'm sorry, what was the name again?" <Oh, baby, light my fire.> "Scully? Yes, she's here. Let me get someone to take you to her Mr. Scully. Heidi, take Mr. Scully to see his wife." As Skinner turned toward the nurse, the receptionist steps out of his line of sight, bites her lips, rolls her eyes and makes the universal medical sign for "good ass" with both hands.
Heidi nods slightly, and puts on her best smile for the gorgeous hunk in front of her. "Mr. Scully, I think Dana's right back this way. Just follow me."
"My name's Skinner. I'm not Dana's husband." Skinner has begun to feel like he might be in over his head.
"Oh, I'm sorry." <Not really. Just means it's still open season on you.> "Let me see if she's still down here. She may have gone upstairs......" "Heidi," a rather pompous young man sticks his head out of a room, "I need a nurse NOW, not five minutes ago."
"Excuse me," apologizes Heidi, "the doctor
needs......Lilly, take Mr. Skinner to see his lady, please. Dr. Martinez the Magnificent needs a nurse, pronto, as usual."
<Hoo, mama, my prayers are answered!> "I'm sorry, your name is.....?"
"Skinner. SKINner," the A.D. is growing impatient.
"Skinner, Skinner, Skinner." Lilly flips through a computer printout she's pick up from a counter. "Oh, yeah. She's seeing Dr. Nunnery. Early OB, right? She should be in room 7, just go on in. I'll be right back with her diet."
"Diet?" Skinner assumes this is standard maternity stuff. Unsure if he should just walk-in, he lightly taps on the door and hears a muffled "Come in". He slowly opened the door to reveal.......
An enormous young woman in a paper gown that does not begin to close across her massive back. She stuffs a twinkie in her mouth.
"Oh, sorry, Doc. I got a litle hungry waiting for the nurse to get back with the A.D.A. diet. After all, I'm eating for two, now, right? Are you the doctor who takes care of the high-risk pregnant people? I'm Marla Skinner, please to meetcha."
Skinner stands in the door, opening and closing his mouth. NEVER has he seen anyone so BIG. And Lord, how did she get pregnant? The guy must be superhuman. "I'm, I'm sorry, wrong room." He back pedals as quickly as good manners will allow.
"Come back, darling, you look just like my Herbie, only he's a little more petite." Lord, PETITE? The man must be one of those weight-lifting Bulgarians, the ones who take steriods. He'd need a boxcar load to be able to handle his behemoth beauty.
Skinner, in his haste to get away from Herbie's sweetie, backs into a woman carrying a small open container of yellow liquid.
"Damn, you made me spill my pee. Oh, man, I'll never be able to give them another specimen."
Skinner looks down in horror at the sight of large droplets of (Oh, GOD) urine on his pants leg and a small spreading pool on the linoleum. Panic beginning to appear on his face, he sees a young man walking down the tall with a tray full of vials, needles, tourniquets, and bandages. He graps the young man by the shoulders, gets into his face, and growls, "You've got to help me. I'm looking for Dana Scully. Please, for the love of God, where can I find her?"
In the background the woman who's urine is now staining the floor continues to berate Skinner. "Now, what are you going to do about this? There's no way I can go again. I'm as empty as Al Gore's campaign promises. WELL?"
"Look, lady, I'm sorry," growls Skinner. "What do you want me to do, fill it for you? She holds out the cup, "Be my guest."
Skinner gives her a look that has cowed most agents under him, but she is unimpressed. Obviously the raging hormones of pregnancy give some women unbelieveable courage and so fear no mere mortal man. Was this what Scully was gonna be like? Lord help us all.
"Look, ma'am, I'll get a nurse for you." Skinner had forgotten the young man he still held by the shoulders. "Sir, you say you're looking for Dana Scully? I've already drawn her; she's probably on the second floor getting a sonogram. Just take the elevator up and ask the receptionist to take you to her. If you hurry, you might still be in time to see it."
"Thanks, uh, Joe." Skinner releases the lab technician and walks to the elevator, which has just opened.
"Hmmmmmm," mutters Joe, "uhhhhhmmmmm, hmmmmmmm. Who's your daddy, baby. Lucky Dana."
Skinner reaches the second floor on the slowest elevator in the universe. When the doors finally open, he's facing another desk, this one marked, "Ultrasounds, Mammograms, X-Rays." A bored young woman doesn't even look up when he inquires after Scully. "Room 3," she points down a hall to the left, with a long lacquered nail.
Thanks, ever so much for your courtesy," said Skinner with excruciating politeness.
"Yeah, no problem." She never even looks up from her "Glamor" magazine.
More wary now, Skinner knocks and waits for a response before opening the door a crack to ask, "Uh, is Dana Scully in here?"
"Yeah, she sure is. Come on in, Mr. Scully. We're just getting to the good part."
"I'm not Mr. Scully," starts skinner as he walks into the room. The rooms is darkened and Scully is laying on a table with her abdomen exposed. A clear blue gel covers her belly and a technician is running a wand over it.
At first, Skinner is embarrassed to be walking in on one of his agents in such an intimate setting. He almost backs out, but his eyes are drawn to the screen of a monitor. There, in black and shades of gray and white, is a small shadow. It only faintly resembles a human, its head is large, its eyes dark, its limbs short and stubby. The heart is beaing rapidly, and suddenly its body gives a little jerk.
"Fascinating, isn't it. I was just telling your wife that everything looks great. Though there seems to be some problem with a last menstrual period, by all the measurements it looks like she's about 11 weeks. She doesn't feel the movements yet, but he's an active little bugger." The tech grins at the look of complete wonderment on the hamdsome man's face.
"So, it's a boy?" Skinner looks down at Scully, who eyes are filled with tears, but her face radiates joy. He realizes he has somehow crossed the room and is now holding her hand.
"Oh, no, it's much too early to tell. I just call them "he", 'cause it sound better than "it". Are you two wanting a boy?" <I certainly would want my son to look like you.>
"I'm, uh, I'm not the......"
"It doesn't matter what the sex is," interrupts Scully. She gives him a *save your breath* look.
"That's good," says the tech. "All anybody should ask for is a healthy baby. And this one looks just fine."
"Why don't you wait for me downstairs. We're done and I'll be down in a couple of minutes, okay. Okay, uh, Walter?" Skinner is still mesmerized by the little being on the screen. "Yeah, yeah, downstairs. Okay."
As Skinner waited in the lobby, he realizeed what a miracle Scully is creating. Bringing a new life into the world. He and Sharon never had any kids; who knows who was at fault, they never pursued the matter. He thought about what Mulder was missing, all the wonders this pregnancy was going to bring.
"Sir, I'm ready. Thank you so much for coming to get me. Kim said she'd send a cab. I would have called my mother, but she's out of town."
"No problem, really." Skinner put his hand on her elbow to guid her to the car parked across the street. "What happened? Are you all right?"
"Oh, yes," said Scully, fastening her seat belt. "Actually, I was coming here for a routine blood test when I got rear-ended at the light on the corner. When I told the motor pool about the damage to the dumper, they insisted that the car had to go back, and in the confusion I left my purse. I decided to get the blood test while I was already here, and when I told the lab tech about the wreck, he told the doctor, who decided that as a precaution we might as well get a sonogram. Just to make sure everything was all right. That's when you showed up. I hope it didn't embarrass you too much."
"No, of course not. It was fasciniting. And, Agent Scully, anytime you need any help please don't hesitate to ask me. I'll do whatever I can, you know that."
"I know, sir," whispers Scully. "I appreciate it. No one knows but my mom, right now. I know I'll have to tell Agent Doggett eventually, but, I'd rather wait. I'm not sure I can tolerate any pity."
"I doubt Doggett would give you pity. But I think he might be more willing to help than you realize. However, tell him when you're ready." Skinner signaled his move into traffic. "Uh, Scully, can you do one thing for me? When I pick you up from here again, just let me meet you in the lobby. This is no place for a any man, even an assistant director of the FBI, to venture into with an escort."
"Yes, sir," Scully tries to suppress a smile. Joe, the lab tech, had found Scully before she left the building and told her of Skinner's encounters with the two patients. "I promise you'll never have to set foot beyond the lobby, again."
"Good," grumbled Skinner.
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