Category: A, Vignette, M POV, Post Series.
Spoiler: The Truth.
I'll have a large plate of fries and coffee. Hmm? Yeah.
Rain's coming down in sheets now. Lucky I got in here just
before that happened. I know I'm soaked, but I had to go
for a run. Umm, no. I don't usually go for a run in the rain.
I didn't know I'd get caught in a sudden downpour. That's my
"You all right? I stopped by the house, but you weren't
home. You weren't answering your phone, Mulder. The kids
are still at Mom's."
"I'm okay. Just out for a bit. Talk to you later, okay?"
"Okay. I'll be home cleaning my gun, then picking up the kids.
Take care of yourself for both our sakes. Don't get soaked. Be
No, that wasn't exactly... well... It's hard to explain. Do
you know what tomorrow is? That's right. Mother's Day. Oh,
the ketchup bottle's empty. Could you... Thanks. My Mom
used to take us to a little diner like this, a cable car type
diner, when we were young. I guess I was nine and my sister was
five the first time we went. Then, it became sort of a habit
when we weren't in school. She'd walk us downtown... No, I grew
up in another state. Anyway, she'd walk us downtown, and we'd
have fries and a Coke, and just take it all in: The juke box,
the teenagers who were dating people their parents weren't
supposed to know about. Then one year, we stopped. I think most
of all I missed my sister, but that diner ranked a good second.
What happened to my sister? She was... killed. How? I'd rather
not... No, no. It's natural curiosity. I mean, you're serving
me and no one else seems to be around. My Mom? She's... she's
Let me just check my wallet. There. That's her. Yes, I guess
my Mom was good-looking back then. Seems my Dad wasn't her only
admirer. Yeah. She was a looker. So was my sister, as if it
makes any difference now.
Hmm? Yeah, would have made a great mother. She loved her dolls.
She was smart, wouldn't put up with any stuff from me, neither,
and she was four years younger than me. Yeah, I guess my eyes
are a little watery. Must've been the rain.
You are? That's great. I'm going to be a Dad, too. Again!
So, here I am all wet the night before Mother's Day, someone
I really care for is going to have a baby, and here I am talking
about the past. You wouldn't believe the year I've had.
Heck, a few years ago, I wouldn't have believed a single thing
about what I've been through. But here I am! I'm about to be a
father, I'm still recovering from some nasty injuries, and I don't
care whether it's a boy of a girl, as long as it has ten toes,
eight fingers and two thumbs, and red blood. Don't laugh.
Never mind what I meant by red blood! I know we all have red
blood. I meant... a genuinely healthy, red-blooded kid.
Yeah! It really IS good to smile. Thanks. That person on the
phone, she's having my baby. And she's the best friend, doctor
and partner in the whole world. She means so much to me I...
I... Omigod! Where CAN I get something for Mother's Day for
her at this time of night? It's her special day, we have two
other kids, and it's just been hectic...
Really? Sure I can. Tomorrow morning at WHAT time? Well, I was
thinking of taking her out to brunch before she headed off to
her mother's place for the day. Sure I can afford it. Make her
Crepes Suzette or whatever! Don't let the wet shorts and tee
shirt put you off. I'm a federal employee.
No, not a postal worker. Are you sure you want to come back
here at six in the morning just to have your string quartet
serenade my lady while you flip pancakes, and your wife brings
those pink roses she grows?
Well, what can I say? Okay. As longas you don't mind two very
brilliant kids fighting over syrup.
Look. The rain's letting up. See those two pigeons out there
billing and cooing? That's what I want to be doing this time
tomorrow -- an hour before sunset. After she gets back from her
mother's, which will be long after that fine breakfast serenade
you and I just cooked up, we're going to be like them.
Yes, I'm a VERY lucky man. In more ways than you know. I'm
lucky to be alive.