Summary: Krycek/Marita relationship; Mulder/Scully relationship; kidfic.

TITLE: Verdandi's Children (1/1)
AUTHOR: Avalon (avalon@fuse.net)
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: S, Krycek/Marita, Mulder/Scully
SPOILERS: Set late season eight into early nine
KEYWORDS: Krycek/Marita relationship; Mulder/Scully
relationship; kidfic
DISCLAIMER: All characters, except one, belong to the
divine Mr. C. The situation is my invention,
but I'm making no money here. No infringement
intended.
ARCHIVE: Take it, it's yours.
NOTES: Written for the IWTB Ima Believer challenge.
I volunteered to write Krycek/Marita, but
Mulder and Scully both showed up, too. I
reserve the right to listen to the voice
of Inspiration.


Verdandi's Children (1/1)


"We shouldn't have to live like this." Her voice whispered
across the pillow to him, the lone sound in the dark silence
of the hotel room.

"No, we shouldn't."

"It's not fair." She hated that she sounded like a petulant
child, but she couldn't seem to pull the whine from her
words. "Why us?"

She felt him shift next to her, and his breath tickled her ear.
"Maybe it's fate."

She snorted. "I don't believe in fate. We make our lives
what they are."

His right hand traced lazily down her side and around to
her stomach, and his wrist arched as he splayed his fingers
across the expanse of her rounded belly. "We made this."
He nuzzled his nose under her chin, nipping at her
collarbone, and she smiled for a minute, relishing the grate
of his stubbled cheeks against her skin. But she was
worried, and scared to death, and she knew he couldn't
protect her. He couldn't protect either one of them.

"I want this baby to have a normal life."

"Define normal."

She stroked his hair as he continued to trail kisses in a
moist choker around her neck. "I want a house for him, a
golden retriever, Saturday movies with popcorn and
Jujyfruits. I want him to go to school, to have friends..."
Her voice trailed off, and it hitched with emotion when she
spoke again. "I never want him to worry that his father
isn't coming home again."

The mattress moaned, and she could see the outline of his
jaw as his face appeared next to hers. His hand came up to
her cheek, and his finger traced the damp trail of her single
tear. She could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.
"You don't have to worry about that, baby. I'll always
come home."

She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the tightness in her
throat. "How can you be so sure?"

He kissed her lips gently, briefly, and then laid his head on
her swollen abdomen. "I have something to come home to
now."

*****

Dana Scully sat in the August sunshine, wishing for
Coppertone. She had been in such a mad rush to leave last
night she had neglected to pack the sunscreen, and now she
was baking in the brutal summer heat. Worse still, William
was already turning an alarming shade of pink, and he had
only been in the sandbox for fifteen minutes. She itched to
pull him out and take him to a shadier spot, but she didn't
want to deal with a temper tantrum right now. Besides,
Mulder's message had said to meet at the playground, so
she wasn't budging an inch until she spotted her partner.

She watched as her son scooped sand into a green pail with
a yellow shovel, his little brow furrowed in deep
concentration. At fifteen months old, he was getting to be
quite a handful, bursting with energy and boasting a
tremendous appetite. Scully had stopped nursing him at six
months, mostly because he never seemed to get enough to
eat. And he ate everything he could get his tiny hands on,
including bugs and other unmentionables found in public
parks. She eyed him critically, pleased that he had so far
remembered that she had declared sand eating off limits.

The park was deserted today, families apparently opting for
cooler activities like swimming or indoor fun, but Scully
could see another woman approaching from across the
field. She watched her as she scrutinized everyone
nowadays, her analytical mind taking in the woman's
appearance. She was dressed simply, in denim pedal
pushers and a white sleeveless blouse, which she had tied
in a knot above the waistband of her pants. Her hair had
been tucked up into a pale blue cap, but Scully could tell
from the few escaping strands that the woman was a
blonde. Her face was mostly obscured by the bill of the
hat, and by the large wraparound sunglasses that she wore.

The woman paused and shifted something to the opposite
hip, and Scully realized that she was carrying a child. The
baby's head was turned to look behind her mother, and the
woman combed her fingers through the child's long, wild
dark hair as they approached the playground. Scully
watched as the woman leaned down and whispered
something to her daughter, and the girl swiveled her head
to look in the direction her mother pointed. When the girl
saw the sandbox, she squealed in delight, and her mother
set her down on her feet. Scully smiled as the baby toddled
over to the box and awkwardly climbed into the sand,
plopping down close to William. She appeared to be just
Will's age, perhaps a couple of months younger.

Scully glanced at her wristwatch as the other woman settled
onto a nearby bench. She sighed, noting that Mulder was
late. She hated these clandestine meetings, and she
especially hated how they always seemed to be arranged at
the last minute, usually succeeding in throwing William's
meticulous schedule completely off and sending him into
weird sleeping and eating habits for weeks afterward. But
the time the three of them spent together was so infrequent
and so precious to her that she did everything possible to
make sure to be wherever Mulder requested. Since Will's
birth, they had arranged a few weekends together, and
usually a day-long meeting like this once a month...but
Scully longed for so much more.

She focused on William. He had dumped all the sand from
the green bucket and was filling it back up. The little girl
watched him for awhile, running her stubby fingers through
the sand underneath her, but then she reached out, making a
grab for the shovel. She succeeded in getting her hand on
it, and Will tried to shake her off. When she didn't release
it, he gave an indignant shriek and looked over at Scully,
who pushed herself up off the bench.

"Lexa! Let go of that, please!" The other mother leaned
into the sandbox, pulling her daughter away from
William's toy. The girl uttered an ear-piercing whoop and
pushed at the woman's hands. Her mother put her face
next to the baby's, catching her eyes. "We don't grab
things, Lexa. That's not nice."

"William," Scully said, walking into the box herself. "You
can share some of your toys with this little girl. You have
another shovel somewhere." Scully spied the red handle
sticking out of the sand and snagged it. She turned to the
mother and daughter and smiled. "Here you go, sweetie.
You can play with this one."

The child wrapped her chubby hand around the toy and
gurgled, obviously pleased. The woman grinned and set
her daughter back in the sand, where the girl began to help
Will with his digging. "Thank you," the woman murmured
to Scully...and Scully's heart seemed to stop.

The blonde hair. The lithe, statuesque figure. The low,
sultry voice. Scully's ears began to ring in recognition.

"Marita Covarrubias." The name fell from her tongue in an
awed whisper.

The woman looked up at her, and her mouth dropped open
in a tiny ring. Scully stepped back automatically, and
Marita ripped her glasses from her face, her light blue eyes
shocked and unbelieving. "Oh my God," she breathed.
Her eyes whipped from Scully's face to the children
playing at their feet.

Her heart hammering in her chest, Scully reached down and
plucked William from the sand, ignoring his furious bellow
as she broke away from the other woman. She was halfway
up the path through the trees when Marita's call fell on her
ears: "Agent Scully! Wait! Please!"

She stopped. She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the look
of complete surprise on the other woman's face. Maybe it
was the plaintive tone in her cry.

Or maybe it was because Marita Covarrubias was now a
mother, just like her.

She pivoted back around, and Marita was hurrying up the
path, trying to soothe her crying daughter as she moved.
Scully's gaze fell on the girl, who turned emerald eyes to
her. Big, beautiful green eyes framed by a set of lovely,
lush dark lashes. Scully winced.

She had her father's eyes.

Marita shook her head. "I can't believe it's really you."

"What do you want?" Scully choked the words out, her
throat constricting with fear.

"I never imagined I would see you again." Marita gave a
short, exasperated laugh, and she turned her gaze to
William, who was still howling his rage. "This must be
your son."

"What do you want?" Scully demanded again.

Marita shook her head, a puzzled look crossing her face.
"Nothing. I don't want anything. I--I just..." She looked
around curiously. "You're meeting Mulder, aren't you?"

Scully backed away again, wishing like mad that she hadn't
parked her rental car so goddamned far from the
playground. "I have nothing to say to you." She pulled
William closer to her. "Leave us alone."

The other woman's words stopped her cold. "Is he
normal?"

"What do you mean? Of course he's normal!" Scully's
fear melted into molten anger. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Marita smoothed a long, white hand over her daughter's
ebony hair. "Sometimes Lexa can make things move.
With her mind."

Scully swallowed. She glanced at the other child, who had
calmed and was trying to swat at the bill of her mother's
cap. Marita caught the baby's hand and brought it to her
lips, kissing the tiny knuckles and smiling at her. "Why
would William be able to do that?"

Marita shrugged. "I don't know why. Maybe it's because
his father was exposed to the alien artifact, and something
turned itself on in his brain. Maybe it's because you were
given the vaccine against the black oil. I was given that
myself." She looked at Scully, her eyes searching. "I don't
have any answers. But I know someone who might be able
to help you."

Scully recoiled as if she had been slapped. "I don't want
your help. Why should I trust you, after everything you
and Alex Krycek did to us?"

The blue of Marita's eyes seemed to deepen at the mention
of Krycek's name, and her face hardened. "Alex was
trying to you and Mulder. You may not believe
that, but it's the truth."

"He wanted to kill my baby!" Scully shouted, her anger
surging up out of her. William stopped crying and looked
at his mother, his cheeks rosy from the exertion of his
tantrum.

Marita took a step toward her. "That was all a
smokescreen. Surely you must realize that he just wanted
to get close to you again and try to help you." Her eyes
suddenly grew wet, and her words were low and strangled
when she spoke again. "He was trying to help you, and
look what happened to him."

Scully set her jaw. "He wanted Skinner to shoot Mulder.
That's why Skinner--" She felt a sudden rush of
sympathy, but she tamped it back down. "That's why
Skinner had to kill him."

Marita brushed her fingers over her cheeks quickly and
looked at Scully, her eyes cold once more. "All I know is
that my baby doesn't have a father now." Her blue gaze
drifted over to William, and her tone softened. "No one
should have to live this way."

"What way?"

"I know Mulder is running. I know that you are trying to
find some sanity in a life filled with uncertainty and danger.
And I know you can't want that for your son." She
squeezed her daughter, who was starting to doze off against
her mother's shoulder. "I know I don't want it for Lexa."

Scully shifted her weight, William becoming heavier by the
second. The feel of him safe in her arms settled in her
heart, and she felt her anger dissolving. Her thoughts
rippled back over the years, shuffling through what she
knew of Marita Covarrubias, and she realized how very
little information about the woman she had.

It certainly didn't make it any easier to believe her.

Marita sighed and glanced over her shoulder, and Scully
followed her gaze. Back at the playground, she could see a
figure approaching, a man dressed all in black, his head
bent against the oppressive August heat. Her heart caught
in her throat, anxiety rising like bile.

It was Alex Krycek. He had come to reunite with his
family, and to take her son away...

"I see Mulder has arrived." Marita's husky rasp cut
through the icy streak of fear in Scully's mind. She
blinked, her focus returning, and she saw the man by the
sandbox was indeed Mulder. He brought his hand up to his
forehead and shaded his eyes, casting his sight up the path
to her. She gave him a grateful smile.

"I know you don't trust me," Marita said. She passed the
baby to her other hip and fished into the back pocket of her
pants. Out came a business card, and Scully nearly laughed
out loud at the absurdity of the situation. Marita held it out
to her. "I told Alex once that I didn't believe in fate.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe our paths crossed today for a
reason. These people helped us. They protect us, and they
understand just how special my child is." She locked her
gaze on Scully; the intensity of it was palpable in the air
between them. "And I'm not afraid anymore."

Scully took the card from her. Without another word,
Marita Covarrubias brushed past her and continued up the
path, disappearing in moments into the thicket of trees that
lined the trail. Scully stood there, motionless, until
William's babbling "Dadadadadadadada" pulled her
attention back to him.

Mulder's arms encircled her waist, and she willingly
relaxed into his embrace. "Who were you talking to?" he
asked.

Scully exhaled, her apprehension releasing with the breath
from her body. "Another mother," she murmured.
"Someone I think I was meant to meet today."

*****

More and more often, as she lay in her bed and listened to
the hushed breathing of her baby, she found her thoughts
turning to her grandmother, and to the stories the stout old
lady had told her when she was a child in Norway. The
pitch of her ancient voice, the strange lilt of her
cumbersome accent, unraveled in her mind like the yarn the
retired seamstress had rolled in her gnarled hands.

The old woman would sit with the child at her feet as she
weaved. She recited the stories of the Three Fates, the
Goddesses in whose hands the destiny of all human beings
rested. She spoke of Urdh, the Lady of the Past, and of
Skuld, the Crone of Death...but the one that fascinated her
young charge the most was Verdandi. The Goddess of
Change, She helped humanity to realize its creative
power...but also, to understand that it was powerless to
stop the passage of time and the turning of the Wheel that
brought all ever closer to the end of days. Surrendering to
Verdandi was necessary, Grandmother told her, for none of
the Fates would be denied Her honor, and no one could
escape destiny.

The Wheel had turned for her. She no longer feared for her
life, or that of her child. She no longer feared that she
would be alone, for in the wee hours of the night, when she
floated in that wavering place between sleep and dreams,
she sometimes felt his presence and knew that he came to
her still. She no longer feared that she would forget his
face, for the very same one looked at her every morning
with bright, shining eyes filled with love.

But she had lied to Dana Scully. She had told her she was
no longer afraid, and one fear haunted her still.

She feared that she would not be forgiven in that place
beyond this one, that land where the Three Sisters presided.
She feared that she had understood Verdandi's lessons too
late, and that when Skuld came for her and cut the thread of
her life, her final resting place would be a void filled with
snow and ice.

She had saved her child, and perhaps another one even
more important than hers. She was certain that was part of
her destiny.

But perhaps it was too little too late.


***End***

NOTES: Special thanks to the book, Summoning the Fates,
by Z. Budapest, for the information concerning the Three
Fates.

I love feedback almost as much as Krycek's pretty eyelashes!
Send it! You know you want to! avalon@fuse.net

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