Summary: Maggie Scully has a late night conversation with her daughter's partner about Dana, Emily, and St. Joseph. Sequel to Part Of Me And Not Yet, but stands alone.

Fellow wives--

Few notes first: 1) this is the sequel to another story, but can
stand alone. However if you want to read it, it's a Mulder-POV
called "Part of Me and Yet No Part," both set post-"Christmas Carol."
2) Rereading this I'm suddenly tempted to write a variation on it
where it's Maggie talking to Doggett about William...hmm...except the
analogy doesn't quite work there. 3) Just for the record, I'm
notorious for finding ways to fit little bits of Christian doctrine
(specifically Protestant because that's what I am) into my stories--
hope that doesn't offend anyone.

This is sortof a Christmas story...consider it a late Christmas
gift. :-)


Azar


Disclaimers: Do I REALLY have to go through this again? Aren't we
clear YET on what's mine and what isn't? :-) What is: the story.
What's not: Everybody in it. Mulder and Mrs. Scully belong to CC and
co., as do the mentioned-but-not-appearing Scully and Emily. The
song "It Wasn't His Child," belongs to Trisha Yearwood.

Rating: G

Category: SRA

Keywords: semi-MSR, even though Scully doesn't appear. Sequel
to "Part of Me and Yet No Part." Christmas Story. Faith/Religious
content.

Dedication: To XPFC, my support and inspiration in so many ways. And
to my roommates, for introducing me to the song that inspired this
story.

Acknowledgements: Thank you, God, so much for everything you've done
for me. Without you, I would be nothing and I hope this reflects my
gratitude. And thanks to the many people who responded to "A Part of
Me and Yet No Part," because your comments were what triggered this
idea.

Summary: Maggie Scully has a late night conversation with her
daughter's partner about Dana, Emily, and St. Joseph.


"It Wasn't His Child"
by Julie L. Jekel

"When...Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together
she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit; and her husband
Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved
to divorce her quietly. But as he considered this, behold, an angel
of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'Joseph, son of
David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is
conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she will bear a son, and you
shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their
sins.'" --Matthew 1:18-21

***

December 26, 1997
Bill and Tara Scully's house
Miramar NAS
Just north of San Diego, California

Margaret Scully watched the man on the sofa with pensive eyes. He'd
arrived only hours ago, in answer to her daughter's heartbroken call,
but even though she was asleep--after finally being forced to go to
bed before she dropped from exhaustion--something wouldn't let him
find that solace.

Maggie thought she had a pretty good idea what.

A pang of regret still shot through her when she remembered how
violently she'd reacted to the possibility that this little girl was
Melissa's daughter. She couldn't bear the thought that she had a
grandchild she never knew about, and so rejected the idea without
consideration. But that was before her Dana had received a more
crushing blow--she had a child she'd never known, never given birth
to. Beside that, everything else paled.

But as akin to her own still-potent grief though it may be, what was
haunting Fox Mulder wasn't the fact that Dana had a child she'd never
known about before this moment, it was so much more than that. And
even though she knew he probably wanted to be left alone, there was a
truth she could share with him that might help to ease the pain. Or
at least let him know he wasn't alone.

"Fox..."

He looked up at her approach with a weak smile. "Hey, Maggie."

Why was it that tragedy was always what brought the two of them
together? It seemed sometimes that the only time she saw her
daughter's partner was when Dana--and the rest of the family through
her--was facing an incredible burden of pain. First her
disappearance, then her cancer, and now this...

"You seemed to be having trouble sleeping," she commented softly.
"What's bothering you?"

For a moment, his face twisted in grief, but he fought it off as he
had so many times before. "Nothing...nothing, really."

"Now, Fox, you should know better than to try to fool a mother," she
chided gently. Sitting down beside him on the couch, she met his
eyes with hers and willed him the courage to admit to what was on his
heart.

He hesitated, but finally began to speak, the words coming out in
choppy spurts as if each one were a knife-blade in his heart. "I...I
want...I want to be happy for...for her. But...I...can't.
I...don't...I don't know why--I just...I just can't."

She regarded him with the wisdom of raising four children in her
eyes. "I think you do know why, Fox," she told him softly.

His eyes dropped to the sofa, a flush almost like shame creeping into
his face, but still he said nothing out loud.

"I know how you feel for Dana, Fox," she continued. "I've known ever
since the first day I met you, in her apartment..." She didn't
finish the thought, knowing he didn't need any more words to remind
him of the time she meant. It was as permanent an unwelcome resident
in his mind as it was in hers. "I know it hurts you that the only
child she'll ever have isn't yours."

She saw him shudder momentarily before he lifted his eyes to meet
hers.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" he asked with a wry but kind smile.

"I'm a mother, Fox. Reading minds comes with the job description."

His smile widened slightly at her quiet jest, but soon faded.

"It was bad enough," he finally admitted, "when we learned that she
was infertile because of her abduction. All those dreams I'd had of
holding our baby someday...just crumbled into dust in my hands. I
wanted to marry her, someday, and together bring a new life into the
world that would testify for generations to come to how much I love
her. But it hurts even more to know that she's been given that
child...without me."

Maggie placed a comforting hand on his arm, her sad smile never
fading. When she spoke again, the words were so quiet that Mulder
almost didn't register them. "So, I guess now you understand a
little bit how Joseph felt."

When the words did sink in, his face tightened in confusion. "What
do you mean?"

She nodded towards the creche on the mantlepiece. "St. Joseph, the
carpenter. Mary's betrothed." For a moment, her eyes seemed to
caress the figure, as if she'd witnessed the events she spoke of and
was reflecting on them later to a friend. "He watched her give birth
to her first child, knowing it wasn't--and never would be--wholly his
own. No matter how much he loved Jesus, he didn't have that blood
tie to him that he must have wanted desperately. And I imagine even
knowing that his foster child was the Son of God didn't completely
soften the blow."

An expression of wondering surprise crept over the agent's face. "I
thought Catholics believed that Mary remained a virgin," he
questioned, puzzled.

Maggie laughed. "Officially, yes. I wasn't born Catholic, though.
I was raised in the Methodist church, and converted when I married
Bill. And even though I came to believe that most of what the Church
taught was true, the one thing from my childhood I could never give
up was the love story of Mary and Joseph. I remember in the weeks
leading up to Christmas my mother would tell me that story almost
every night, to help me understand that Christ's life was always
wreathed in sacrifice, long before his crucifixion. Those who loved
him had to understand sacrifice, so they would comprehend and be able
to accept what he had done for them. And I passed that story on to
the children--I even bought _Two from Galilee_ for both of the girls
for Christmas one year. If I'm not mistaken, Dana still has her
copy."

He nodded, pensiveness still wrinkling his brow. "I admit I don't
know much about the origins of Christmas...but I never thought of it
that way."

"Most people don't, I imagine. It's very easy to forget that Mary
and Joseph were very real people who had the same fears, doubts and
questions as anyone else, but who had been chosen for an
extraordinary and utterly unique task. But the Bible tells us that
Joseph very nearly divorced Mary when he found out she was carrying a
child that wasn't his. Only the words of an angel telling him this
was God's Son--and God's Will that he be an earthly father to that
Son--prevented it. It must have broken his heart, knowing that
special place in her life he thought was meant only for him had been
usurped by someone else, even if it was the Creator of the Universe."

Their eyes met once again and she continued. "I imagine, Fox, that
he felt *very* much as you do now. Guilty--the child his beloved
carried was not the result of unfaithfulness to him, but still he
couldn't shake the hurt. Betrayed by the very God he had dedicated
his life to. Left out of the miracle he wanted so much to share in.
Torn between overwhelming love for the child and the constant
knowledge that it wasn't his..."

Fox Mulder laughed roughly. "That sounds pretty accurate."

There was a long, thoughtful silence as the agent turned over her
words in his mind. He'd never believed in God, never even cared
whether or not he was real. But something about the story he'd just
been told transcended fabrication, asking him without words if he
dared to believe it, to need the comfort it would bring.

Maggie smiled, once again tightening her hand on his arm before
rising from her place across from him. "I just wanted you to know
you weren't alone."

He flashed her a crooked smile as she stood, knowing the thoughts
she'd planted that night would be growing in his mind for a long time
to come. His eyes drifted over to the creche, studying the figure of
Joseph beside the manger with new intensity and lingering there long
after she'd left the room.

The last thought to flicker through his mind before the firelight
lulled him to sleep, was simply,


FIN

"It Wasn't His Child"
by Trisha Yearwood

He was her man, she was his wife
And late one winter night
He knelt by her as she gave birth
But it wasn't his child, it wasn't his child

Yet still he took him as his own
And as he watched him grow
It brought him joy, he loved that boy
But it wasn't his child, it wasn't his child

But like a father he was strong and kind and good
And I believe he did his best
It wasn't easy for him but he did all he could
His son was different to the rest
It wasn't his child, it wasn't his child

And when the boy became a man
He took his father's hand
And soon the world would know why
It wasn't his child, it wasn't his child

And like a father he was strong and kind and good
And I believe he did his best
It wasn't easy for him but he did all he could
He grew up with his hands in wood
And he died with his hands in wood
He was God's child, he was God's child


Merry Christmas and God Bless,

JJ