SECOND COMING
By Jacquie LaVa
MSR, G, Babyfic, a little humor

Disclaimers, spoilers:  Clones on Loan with nary a Spoiler

Written for Fando's "Baby" challenge, and in honor of Tali's recent
little bundle of baby-boy-joy!

Thanks to Carol for lightning-fast once-over -

Notes:  I cannot believe I wrote a "G" fic.  Has to be a first, or
maybe a second... hee!

Challenge elements listed at the end -


"Second Coming"


Nothing about this delivery has been easy or has gone smoothly.  She
wonders why she thought a second labor would be more of a joy than
the first one.  Granted, William's birth occurred under extreme
circumstances, but hope does tend to spring eternal.

"Here, honey.  Try to eat a little more. It'll feel good on your dry 
throat."  Her mother offers another spoonful of lemon ice cream and 
Scully turns her face away, fretful and cranky and all-around 
miserable.  She hates feeling this way, hates being the weak, whiny 
one.  Well, she's entitled... after eleven hours of labor added onto 
being twelve days late going into said labor, she's entitled to a 
hell of a lot.

"Mom, if I eat another bite I'll gag.  I hate lemon, anyway. 
Couldn't you have found some 'Cherry Garcia?'"  Whining again.  God,
she sounds like a petulant thirteen-year old.  She voices it aloud
and catches the edges of a chuckle at her left ear, as Mulder brushes
the damp hair off her forehead.

"Now that's a sight I'd have loved to have seen... Dana Scully,
thirteen years old and petulant."

In this case, Mother knows best.  "No, you would NOT have wanted to
see it, Fox.  Trust me.  She was a little brat.  Middle children are
often the worst, especially girls.  Dana didn't start to act like a
human being until she was, oh... maybe twenty."

"MOM!  Whose side are you on, any - ohhh, ahhh, OUCH!"

Maggie Scully pats her daughter's roiling, distended belly.  "At the
moment, my granddaughter's, if she ever decides to show her little
head."  A glance at her watch and Maggie declares, "Five minutes,
Dana.  You've got a ways to go."   

"Oh, thank you VERY much for keeping me apprised of the situation,
Mom."

"Cranky, cranky, cranky..." Mulder kisses Scully's temple and
stifles another chuckle when she glares in his direction.  She's
bloated, sweaty, stringy-haired and pop-eyed from hours of
contractions.  She's a mess from trying to expel their child.

He loves her so much that he aches.  He doesn't mind the nails that
bite into his hand every time she begins another contraction.  It
doesn't bother him that the shock of breaking water all over their
sofa startled her so badly that her arm swung out and knocked his
laptop to the floor. He'd been sitting next to her, downloading a
file with his brand-new IMac balanced on his knees.  He swore softly
under his breath at the ruined computer but never said another word.
He'd merely gathered her into his arms and carried her to the
bathroom, cleaned her up and had taken her to the hospital.  She'd
contracted, cursed and cried the entire way.  

That's been acceptable behavior, too.  Anything she feels the need
to do or say is fine; his daughter is on her way out and Mulder wants
to give the mother of his child the absolute world.

That said, he's still worried.  Not that the labor has gone on for
eleven hours; he knows enough about childbirth to understand these
things often take time.  He's mostly concerned that when the time
actually comes, Scully may be seriously lacking the strength she'll
need to push their daughter out.  He mentions this in a low voice to
Maggie, and she nods distractedly as she presses another damp cloth
to Scully's brow.

"Well, it's definitely possible.  I remember how long it took me to
deliver Charlie.  It seemed like forever, but in fact was only about
thirty hours."  She smiles at the look of complete horror passing
over Mulder's face, and hastens to add, "I know that sounds like a
lot!  But hours and hours of it was nothing more than low backache
and indigestion, truly.  We'd gone to this Indian restaurant for
dinner a couple of nights before and I was still burping up curry
spice. I thought the cramps I felt were left over from what I'd
eaten.  But I probably only had perhaps ten hours of hard labor, and
I remember squeezing my husband's fingers until I just about broke
them."

She glances down at Scully, who has fallen into a weary doze, and
nods in approval.  It's best that she sleep a little, she'll need all
her strength very shortly.  Stroking her daughter's tangled hair,
Maggie confides, "I was close but no cigar, so to speak.  Charlie
just did not want to come out.  My doctor finally had to resort to
drastic measures; he told Bill that I needed some kind of shock to my
system, and that would help the final birthing process."

Mulder's eyebrows crinkle into a confused frown.  "Shock?" 

Maggie smiles and nods again.  "Yes.  He said I could either be
startled, or made to belly-laugh.  Bill chose to startle me;
apparently he was fresh out of knock-knock jokes.  He had the doctor
time the next contraction and waited until I was almost ready for
another one. He crouched down next to the delivery table so that I
couldn't see him; then he jumped up and screamed, 'OOOGA-BOOGA!' as
loud as he could.  Not only did he render me temporarily deaf in one
ear but I actually jumped, he'd startled me so bad.  Well, like magic
I had this huge contraction, and out flew Charlie."

Mulder laughs aloud as he tries to picture it in his mind.  "So,
you're saying a shock will make our little kidlet rock?"

"You never know.  It's worth a try.  Got any ideas?  Any knock-knock
jokes?"  

Mulder thinks for a moment; then flashes Maggie a mischievous grin
and replies, "Not a one!  But I suppose I could strip down to my
boxers and dance on the next bed, do a quick little booty-shake.  I'm
wearing my "What? Me Worry" undies today."

"Your what?"

Mulder helpfully supplies, "They're florescent green with a picture
of Alfred E. Neumann on the front and the words, "Kiss My Face"
written on the back.  Scully hasn't seen them yet; I was going to
surprise her..."
 
A hoarse laugh, followed by a reluctantly-amused voice floats over
from the birthing table and they both spin around as Dana Scully,
future mother of a dainty little girl-child, begs, "Lord help us
all... not in front of the baby, Mulder." A grimace, and then a loud,
"Oh, SHIT!  OWWWW!!"

And as an enormously hard and strong contraction rattles her body
and she digs her nails into both her husband's and her mother's
hands, an awestruck Mulder observes, "Never underestimate the power
of mind imagery, Scully.  Oh, look at that... I do believe we're
having a baby!"

end


Challenge elements:

Baby 
Boxers
Curry
Dead laptop
Cranky 
Quick
Easy
Cherry

Thanks for reading!