Title: Improbability Author: Diandra Hollman E-Mail: diandrahollman@gmail.com Website: http://diandrahollman.tripod.com/index.html Rating: NC-17 Date Finished: 4/24/2002 Classification: T R A Keywords: AU, Doggett Torture, DSR (already established), Mulder/Scully friendship Spoilers: Spoilers? Me? Surely you jest! ;) Disclaimer: I will quote a friend of mine - a fellow SHODDSter here and say: They aren't mine. Duh. :) Archive: E-mail me first, so I know where it's going. :) Summary: Doggett learns the truth about the existence of extraterrestrials...and he will never be the same again. Dedication: To my fellow Doggett Torturers. This may very well be the most torture I have inflicted on poor John yet! :::evil crooked grin::: To my fellow SHODDSters. Many of whom I know have personalities wicked enough to fully appreciate where this story is headed. ;) To RPcrazy, who insists on calling me the "Queen of Smut". I'll try to live up to that. :) To Lisa for her constant support. And to Megan, who seems to have made it her mission to *keep* my mind firmly planted in the gutter. ;) Author's Notes: Scully was never pregnant in this universe. I just have a hard time working that plot line into my stories. Mulder was still abducted though. And I want to make it clear that the fact that this is a DSR story DOES NOT mean that I don't like Mulder! He and Scully will still be best friends. They just won't be *lovers*. (And yes, I know the Supersoldier in Trust No 1 said that she brought him into her bed "one lonely night", but IMHO that does not hold much water. Oh, and Mulder still works at the FBI. :) This story takes place sometime after DeadAlive. And no, this story has nothing to do with the episode "Improbable". The title is a coincidence. I named this story long before that episode aired. Improbability By Diandra Hollman PROLOGUE: Despite our many differences, there was one thing Mulder and I shared: we had both been abducted. Whether by aliens or men is perhaps debatable. When we were returned we had both been significantly changed - for better or worse. I was left barren and implanted with a chip that was apparently meant to cure me of a cancer I didn't even know I had. Mulder was cured of a terminal brain disease and infected with a virus designed to transform him into a biological alien. I shouldn't have been surprised when They took John Doggett. There was never any doubt in my mind that Doggett would be returned, but I couldn't help but worry about what condition he would be returned *in*. ******* ONE MONTH EARLIER I woke up to warm sunshine pouring through the window and a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. I smiled and was instantly rewarded with loving kisses on my shoulder and neck. "How long have you been awake," I asked, my voice still thick from sleep. "About an hour." I could *feel* his raspy whisper through my entire body, making me shiver. I could never get enough of his voice. "What time is it," I asked, only slightly interested in the answer. "It's Saturday," he said playfully. "Who cares?" "Mmmm..." I could feel his erection pressing against my back. Heat spread from my abdomen to pool between my legs. I was never really a fan of morning sex, but that changed when I met Doggett. His hand began tracing sensual patterns on my breast, teasing me. I reached down to deliver a similarly maddening touch to his thigh. He growled. After several more minutes of teasing - minutes which felt like hours in my mind - he lifted my leg and I felt his hard, hot length slide between my legs, brushing against my folds. "John," I whispered breathlessly. "Please...now." Without any further delay, he pushed inside me. I moaned at the delicious sensation of him filling me, stretching me to my limit. I felt a groan rumble through his chest. "God...Dana," he gasped. I hummed my agreement. He paused when he was fully embedded. I knew he was trying to control himself, desperately trying to make it last. Then he started to move, even though our position didn't allow us much movement. He rolled his hips, making slow, gentle thrusts. He was barely moving inside me - not withdrawing at all - but it was enough. What had started as a warm pool in my abdomen grew rapidly into an intense fire. I reached behind me to grip the back of his neck as one of his hands began stroking towards the place I most wanted his touch. But he never got that far. Instead, he reached for my hand and brought it down to the place where we were joined. "Can you feel how much I want this?" he rasped in my ear. "How much I want you?" "Ungh..." I was beyond coherence. My fingers fluttered against his swollen flesh, sliding against the wetness it had gathered from inside my body. "I'll be right behind you honey," he whispered, and I tumbled over the edge. It was not another mind-shattering orgasm, like the ones he had given me the night before. Rather, it was a sweet, slow unfurling of pleasure in my belly. I moaned as it washed over me. When it was over, my hand was still wrapped around the hard length that was still buried - unmoving - inside me. "It's okay," I murmured. "You can let go now." He groaned, resuming his thrusts. This time though, they were faster and more desperate. I hooked my ankles behind his thighs - which was quite a feat of flexibility at my age - and arched my back to give him better access as he raced towards the finish line. Moments later he stiffened and I felt him pulse deep inside me as I was bathed with the warmth of his essence. I smiled as I felt the last flame inside me flare to life briefly before it subsided, becoming merely a smoldering sense of bliss. I stroked Doggett's arms where they were still clenched tightly around my waist as his ragged breathing slowly evened out. I felt his lips brush my hair and smiled. When he finally loosened his hold on me, I rolled onto my back. He hovered over me, leaning on his left elbow, his lips parted slightly as he breathed - still not quite steady. I locked my eyes with his, becoming easily lost in the passion-deepened blue pools. I traced one finger over his lower lip before I leaned up to capture his mouth for the first time since the night before. He groaned, slipping his right hand beneath my head for support. I purred appreciatively and plunged my tongue past his lips. Despite his dominant position, it was clear that I was truly the one controlling the kiss as I ravished his mouth mercilessly. And he was more than happy - it seemed - to relinquish control to me. I pushed against his shoulder, urging him onto his back. He went willingly. I straddled him, feeling the excess of our combined fluids flow out of me to slicken his abdomen. He groaned again, his eyes closing and his hands stroking up and down my arms as my own hands pressed against his shoulders. I smiled wickedly and leaned down to kiss, lick and bite at his neck playfully. He gasped when I strayed to his ear and bit down on his earlobe gently, then whimpered softly as I soothed the bites with my tongue. I re-seated myself on his thighs as my mouth trailed lower. He squirmed when I began swirling my tongue on his chest, spiraling closer and closer to his right nipple until I had the little nub gently clenched between my teeth. He moaned, his hands losing their grip on my arms and falling to his sides. I hummed contentedly and sucked on the nipple until he was clenching the sheets in his fists desperately. Then I released him - listening to him gasp as the wet, heated flesh met the cool air - before I moved to deliver the same treatment to his left nipple. I continued to torture him this way until I felt his previously spent penis grow erect once again, pressing insistently against me. I sat back to watch his face as I stroked my fingers over his abdomen teasingly. His eyes had opened and he gave me a lustfully dazed look. I brushed one hand lower to clasp loosely around his renewed erection. His eyes lost focus and he gasped, his back arching slightly. I stroked him in lazy, fluttering movements that barely provided any relief to the ache that demanded to be soothed. I teased him like that until he choked out one word amid his panting breaths. "Please." I positioned my body over him then and began to lower myself onto him slowly. His eyes flew open at the feel of my inner muscles squeezing him exquisitely. "Oh, God," he cried breathlessly. His hands moving to grip my hips tightly. "Shh..." I soothed, removing his hands gently and intertwining my fingers with his. Then I leaned forward until my nose was level with his and pressed our clasped hands to the mattress on either side of his head. "Let me do the work." He whimpered. I began to rock myself above him slowly, using my knees to lever myself up, not allowing him more than halfway out before plunging him back in again. This was not about me this time. This was about me giving him pleasure. I wanted to drag this out until he could no longer stand it. Until he was begging me to let him come. And when he finally climaxed I knew it would be the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced. I wanted to make him scream as he came inside me. But he apparently had other ideas. His hips began a counter-thrust as he tried to hold off and let me have my own pleasure first. "Don't," I said softly. "Let me do this." His head turned to the side as he gasped for control. I took his earlobe in my mouth once again, never once pausing in my thrusts, and suckled gently. "It's okay," I whispered in his ear. "Just let me do this for you. I want you to come." He moaned brokenly at my words. "Just let go," I encouraged. He opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he had to say was lost in a breathy jumble of words. "Can you say that again sweetheart?" This time he gave me the more succinct version. "Faster." I felt myself practically radiating with pride. I had done it. I had gotten him to surrender. He had never gone so far before in our lovemaking as to allow himself pleasure before giving me mine. He was too much of a gentleman to do that. But he would do it this once for me. I didn't want to speed up, however. I wanted to make him crazy with his need for release. I accelerated only slightly. Enough that I was moving constantly and steadily on him, but still slow enough make it last. "Dana," he whined, sounding for all the world like a three year old. "Stop complaining," I scolded lightly. He whimpered softly and arched his back, pulling against my restraining hands half-heartedly before going limp. /Well, not *completely* limp,/ I thought impishly. I rewarded him with a kiss, thrusting my tongue in his mouth in time with my hips. He responded enthusiastically, even though his advanced state of arousal made him a bit clumsy. I felt his jaw go slack, and broke the kiss so I could look into his eyes as they began to lose focus. "That's it," I encouraged him. "Come for me." His mouth opened, but he was beyond speech, capable only of making gasping noises and something that sounded like "Day... ahh!" And then his eyes rolled back in his head and he came - crying "Dana!" raggedly as his entire body bucked underneath mine. I felt a wonderful rush of triumphant power. I did it! I had gotten him scream my name in ecstasy! It felt like hours later - even though it was only about a minute - that he finally went boneless under me, thoroughly spent, his head turned to one side. His chest heaved up and down with his noisy pants for breath. Still, I didn't release his hands. Instead, I leaned forward to nuzzle my face into the side of his neck as I waited for his return to reality. When his breathing had slowed to a more normal rate, he tried to twist his head around to look at me, forcing me to raise my head from it's place. We stared into each other's eyes for several long moments. The only sound in the room a combination of our breathing and the soft ticking of the bedside clock. I felt him tug slightly at my restraining grip and finally loosened my hold. His hands came up to cup my face tenderly as his eyes continued to burn right through me - reaching deep into my soul. I finally broke the stare to let my eyes wander over his flushed face. They came to rest on his parted lips - red and slightly swollen from my kisses. I knew mine must have looked the same. I leaned down to claim his mouth again - this time gently and lovingly. He made a noise that I swore sounded exactly like a purr and tilted his head to give me better access. My cellphone - which I had left on the bedside table the night before - chose that moment to ring. I broke the kiss and turned my head to glare at the offending noisemaker. /Who the hell would be calling me on a Saturday morning?/ I didn't want to move. I was so comfortable where I was - draped over Doggett's warm body. His spent penis still held firmly inside my body. I decided to ignore it. Whoever it was could leave a message on my voicemail. I would answer it when I was officially 'up'. The phone stopped after four rings as the voicemail picked up. I turned my attention back to Doggett. "Now...where were we?" He smiled and tipped his chin in a silent invitation that I readily accepted - covering his lips with mine once again. Just as the kiss began to really heat up, my cellphone started ringing again. I slapped the mattress with an open palm and groaned in annoyance. Whoever it was, they were frustratingly persistent! I tried to reach for the phone without moving too much, but it was too far away. I grunted slightly as I detached myself from Doggett - causing him to groan in displeasure - and rolled onto my back, reaching for the phone with my right hand as I used my left to pat Doggett's hand sympathetically. I punched the "on" button, cutting off the offending ring, brought it to my ear and sighed "Scully." A familiar voice on the other end of the line said, "Scully, it's me." I rolled my eyes. Mulder. I should have known... "Mulder, it's..." I twisted my head around to read the clock on the bedside table. "Eight o'clock on a Saturday morning. What is so important that it couldn't wait another hour?" "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I felt Doggett stir beside me. "No," I admitted. "Not exactly." Doggett rolled over to press against my side and began nibbling on the earlobe that did not have a phone pressed against it. I swatted at him. "I just got word from the boys of some possible UFO activity," Mulder continued. And by 'the boys' I knew he meant the Lone Gunmen. "And?" I slapped Doggett lightly again as his attentions moved to my neck, drifting steadily south. "And I was hoping you'd check it out with me?" I felt a frown make it's way across my face. "Now?" "Well...yeah, if you're not too busy." This man had just been returned from what may be the most horrific alien abduction experience in history and he wanted to go "check out some possible UFO activity"? I know Mulder was always too damn stubborn for his own good, but this was bordering on masochistic! Doggett's kisses had reached my shoulder and he shifted until he was hovering above me, his lips getting dangerously close to my right nipple. I covered the mouthpeice with one hand and hissed "stop it!" Then I returned my attention back to the conversation. "Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, after..." "Scully," he interrupted. "I'll be fine. But I could use your help." I could just picture his face - his lower lip jutting out slightly in the way it always does when he asks me to do something for him. He knew I could never say no to him when he looked at me like that. I took a deep breath, which strangled in my throat as I felt Doggett's lips wrap themselves around my nipple. I vaguely wondered if this was John's primitive way of 'claiming' me as his. Doing this to me while I was on the phone with another man. I made a mental note to talk to him about his behavior later - at the same time hoping that Mulder could not tell what was going on. "All right," I relented. "Where is it?" I switched the phone to my other ear and rolled onto my side, reaching for the notepad and pencil sitting on the bedside table. The movement dislodged Doggett from my breast. I sat up against the headboard with pencil and pad in hand, the phone held firmly between my ear and shoulder as I jotted down the directions Mulder gave me. Meanwhile, Doggett began kissing and licking the underside of my breasts, tracing over my ribs, his hands massaging my thighs. I stopped writing long enough to smack him on the head with the notepad, but he didn't quit. "Okay," I said into the phone, hoping Mulder would not be able to catch the slight breathy quality my voice was taking on. "I'll meet you there in about an hour." "Thanks, Scully." Mulder paused for a moment before adding, "And tell Doggett I said 'hi'." I just knew he was smirking as he hung up the phone. ************* My memories of what happened after that are a little fuzzy. Mulder's directions led me to a clearing in a forest just outside of DC. I took Doggett there with me. I remember we all split up to search the surrounding area - all of us moving off into the trees alone. Mistake number one. I remember trying to keep both Mulder and Doggett in my line of sight so I wouldn't lose them. I remember bending down to pick a piece of metal up off the forest floor - squinting as I tried to make out any markings on it, twisting it this way and that and thrusting it into a nearby beam of sunlight, trying to get a better look. Mistake number two. I remember looking up to discover that Doggett had disappeared. I remember how Mulder and I searched the woods, calling out John's name. The longer we were out there, the more panicked I became. Somehow I knew. My instincts were telling me that the Gunmen were right - there had been UFO activity in the area - and Doggett had found the ship. I remember Mulder taking me home. I remember sitting numbly in the passenger seat of his car and feeling his eyes on me. I knew he was worrying about me, as any good friend would. I remember Mulder holding me in his arms as he tried to reassure me. "Don't worry. I'll find him." I found myself thinking about the last time I had heard those words. I remember Mulder staying with me that night. I don't know if he stayed the whole night, but the couch was still warm when I woke up the next morning even though he was gone. I moved through that first week like a sleepwalker. I tried not to get my hopes up even though every time the phone rang I wondered if this was *the* call. The call telling me that John had been found. I felt like I was reliving the hell I had gone through when Mulder went missing. I guess I was. It was one month to the day after he was abducted that he was returned. Mulder had already left the office for the day and I had been getting ready to leave when the call came. Once again, it was from the Lone Gunmen. All they could tell me for sure was that there had been more UFO activity over the woods that Doggett had disappeared from, but it was enough. I drove out to the woods in record time. I felt a painful tightness in my chest as I tried not to think about the possibility that he would be dead, as Mulder had been when he was returned. The fact that Mulder was still alive did nothing to calm my fears. Mulder's resurrection was a miracle. One that I still thank God for every day. But miracles are not a dime a dozen and I was smart enough to not hold out hope for another one, as much as I might want it. /Oh, God...I don't know if I can do this again.../ I don't know how I found him so quickly. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was my subconscious piecing together the facts to lead me to the most logical place I could find him. Maybe it was an angel. Whatever it was, I soon found myself standing over John's worn, battered and bloodied body. Dirty clothes hung haphazardly on his body. He was so thin...he looked almost frail. His skin was pale, almost ashen. His eyes were sunken. His lips looked so dry that it hurt me to just *look* at them. He was so still... I could swear I felt my heart stop in the endless moments that I stood over him. You know that feeling that you get in nightmares? The one where you try to run from danger but no matter how hard you try to move your legs they just...won't? That's what I felt like at that moment. I wanted so badly to go to him, but I just *couldn't*. Maybe I was afraid that he would be dead after all. I don't know how I managed to break the trance - if I even did. I can only remember standing rooted to my position one minute and then kneeling down next to Doggett the next. I held my breath as I reached my hand out to touch his throat, searching for a pulse. I sent up a litany of prayers. /Please God let him be alive. Please let him be alive. Please God.../ My breath rushed out in a sob as I felt a steady, if a little weak, throb under my fingers. I felt a tear I hadn't even known was forming slide down my cheek, disappearing into the leaves beneath my knees. "Oh God, thank you God. Thank you..." I heard the words coming from my mouth to be carried away by the soft wind, but I wasn't consciously aware of saying them. My hands moved back and forth above his body, but I didn't dare touch him. Not because I was afraid of hurting him, but because I was afraid that if I did he would vanish into thin air and I would wake up to find myself alone in my bed. I was vaguely aware that my hands were trembling as they hovered above him. Finally, I let one hand come to rest on his arm. Then the floodgate opened. Before my logical side had a chance to protest, I had gathered Doggett into my arms, holding him as tightly as I could. The doctor in me would have objected to the idea of moving a patient before I knew for certain that I could do it without the risk of worsening any possible injuries, but at that moment I didn't want to be a doctor. I didn't even want to be Dana Scully. I didn't want to know anything beyond the feel of this man in my arms...safe. I felt a wetness beneath my face where I had buried it in his neck and I realized that I must be crying. I thought vaguely that I must have been getting myself horribly dirty, but I didn't care. John was back. And he was alive. That was all that mattered. I was so wrapped up in my relief that I almost didn't hear the soft whisper by my ear. "Dana?" I pulled back, startled, to look into his face. His eyelids fluttered slightly but he seemed to not have enough energy to open them. His lips parted as he tried to speak. "John?" My voice was no more than a breathless gasp of wonder. That he was conscious. That he was alive. That he wasn't a dream. I shifted him in my arms so that his head was cradled to my breast. I struggled to shake the arm not holding him out of my jacket sleeve. When it was finally free, I turned it inside out behind him and over my other arm before wrapping it around him as best I could. I cursed myself for being so small. The jacket didn't quite cover him the way I would have liked it to. It was getting darker and the temperature was dropping. His clothes were so tattered that they offered him little protection from the cold. I held him tightly; the tears flowing steadily down my face as waves of gratitude cascaded through me. God...I could have lost him... I realized that I was rocking him back and forth gently, although I wasn't sure how long I had been doing it. The thought kept nagging at my brain that something was not right. Maybe it was because he seemed so fragile - in both body and spirit. But that was normal, right? After what he'd been through? What *had* he been through? Maybe that's what was wrong. Mulder and I had both been returned with miracle cures to our ailments, but we had been altered in some way. It was entirely likely that they had altered John somehow as well. But how? Would I even be able to recognize the difference without a series of medical tests? "Dana..." The weak whisper startled me back out of my train of thought. I looked down at him to find his eyes half open. I ran my hand through his hair as soothingly as I could. I noticed that even though his hair had grown a little longer, his face remained cleanly shaven. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe." I heard my voice crack and bit my lip. I knew I had to be strong now, for his sake. I could give in to another breakdown some other time when I was alone. With visible effort, he was able to open his eyes fully. I could see several questions in their weary gaze, but he didn't ask them. Instead, he practically whimpered "I wanna go home." I just blinked for several moments. This was a side of John I was not used to. Of course, I had never seen him in this type of situation before either. I nodded. "Okay." ******* Thankfully, he was able to walk on his own. But he still needed the support of my arm around his waist - his own arm draped over my shoulders. I got him into my car and drove him to his house. I knew he would probably feel more comfortable in familiar surroundings after what had happened to him. I also knew that he had a dresser drawer reserved for my clothes since I had been spending so much time there, so I would be able to stay with him until he regained his strength. I sat him down on the living room couch and perched on the facing coffee table. He stared at his lap, not saying a word. I reached out one hand to tip his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet mine. The piercing blue eyes had somehow morphed into a dull grey that reflected both apprehension and confusion. His mouth opened and closed as I imagined the myriad of still- unasked questions floated through his mind. "Would you like some water," I asked out of the need to do *something*. His mouth snapped closed, though his eyes never left mine. He nodded. I went into the kitchen, got a glass out of the cupboard, filled it at the sink and brought it back to him as quickly as I could. I held the glass in front of him and watched as he took it in both hands and brought it to his mouth. It made him look like a little boy. I had to resist the urge to smile. He choked on a mouthful of the water and my hands immediately moved to surround his on the glass, pulling it away from his mouth slightly. "Slow down," I murmured. He finished the water and let me take the glass from his hands. I placed the glass on the table and sat beside him on the couch. I tried not to touch him any more until he gave me permission to, as difficult as that was. We sat for several long moments in silence. "What happened to me," he finally asked. I stared at him for a while - only slightly shocked. He didn't know... "What's the last thing you remember?" He seemed to think for a moment before answering. "I remember going out to the woods with you...Mulder...I thought I saw something on the ground. I went to pick it up and...I don't know." He looked at me then, his eyes pleading with me to tell him what happened next. I took a deep breath and reached for his hand, squeezing it gently between both of mine before I said "Sweetheart...that was a month ago." I watched as his face drained of all its remaining color. "John?" "A month?" The words were barely a whisper. I nodded. I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes. "We've been looking for you for a month, John. You just... disappeared." "We?" "Mulder and I." He nodded numbly. /Isn't it better this way,/ I wondered. /He doesn't remember what they did to him. He won't have to deal with frightening flashbacks or nightmares like Mulder did. All he'll have to deal with is the time he lost./ Although part of me still wasn't sure that there wasn't more to the whole thing than missing time. ********* 2 hours later "I can do that myself, you know," Doggett protested as I drew a wet washcloth over his arm. After I had gotten some food into him, I had insisted on giving him a bath. I had hoped the hot water would make him feel a little bit better. And besides, he *was* really dirty. "Shh," I soothed. "Just relax. I don't mind doing this." He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the tub in resignation. I stole several glances at his face while I washed him. I ran my eyes over every contour, still almost unable to believe that I really had him back. As I dragged the washcloth up one of his - miraculously - still-muscular thighs, I felt something slimy brush the back of my hand and was barely able to hold down the scream rising in my throat. /Oh God, what the hell is that?!/ I let go of the washcloth and reached cautious fingers towards the origin of...whatever it was. I encountered a warm, slick surface that seemed to be a part of Doggett's body. As I probed at it carefully, it seemed to give way, allowing my first two fingers through. I shuddered, trying not to panic. I bit my lip. /So they *did* do something to him...but *what*?/ Then Doggett shifted slightly and I felt the thing grip my fingers. For some reason, this did not frighten me. My instinctive fear had given away to a nagging curiosity as the scientist in me took over my attempts to identify the thing I had found. I pushed my fingers further inside and moved them around a bit. I felt my eyes grow wide in shock when I finally identified the sensations. /No...that's impossible!/ Doggett grunted and opened his eyes, frowning at me in confusion. "Dana, what are you doing?" I just stared at him, my mouth opening and closing stupidly. I must have looked like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. When I finally got past my moment of shock, I reached my free hand for one of his wrists and brought it down to the place I had discovered. I replaced my hand with his. "Can you feel that, John?" He blinked several times as his expression quickly went from confusion to fear. He jerked his hand away as if he had been burned and sat up abruptly in the tub. "Jesus, what is that?" he practically shouted. I pressed my hands to his shoulders and tried to speak as soothingly as I could. "Calm down. It's okay. I'll look at it later. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." All right, so it was a boldfaced lie, but at least it got him to relax as I finished bathing him. ******** DOGGETT (late that night) I don't think I'll ever forget that night, as much as I would like to. Dana got me situated in my bed and - after making me promise that I would stay there until she got back - ran out to the nearest drugstore. The last thing she said on her way out the door was "And don't touch anything!" I laughed mirthlessly at that. "No problems there," I muttered to the empty room. I was curious about what this thing on my body was, but I was too afraid to try to figure it out. I guess it might have been my way of trying to deny that it was anything at all. When Scully returned she thrust a plastic disposable cup in my hands and announced that she would need "a urine sample". I sat there for several seconds, blinking at her, trying to determine whether or not she was joking. Then she shot me a look that said 'don't test my patience' and I diligently complied. I settled myself back into the bed as she shut herself in the bathroom with an unidentified bag from the drugstore and the urine sample. She was in there for far too long, allowing my mind to hash up several theories about what, exactly, whatever test she was conducting would prove. All I could come up with were variations on the same theme. I had some sort of disease. Maybe I had been exposed to some sort of chemical or toxin. Maybe I was dying. I was almost relieved when she finally opened the door, but my stomach fluttered in fear. My heart was hammering wildly in my chest as I searched her face for reassurance. Her eyes were fixed on the object in her hands. It was white and cylindrical-shaped, roughly the size of a pencil. "Dana?" My voice sounded high and thin with apprehension, but I didn't care. After several seconds that seemed to stretch into an eternity, she finally raised her head and her eyes met mine. Too many emotions were vying for position on her face for me to be able to sort them out. But I was pretty sure I could recognize worry. Her mouth moved silently for a while as she apparently searched for the right words to break the news to me. "John," she finally said. Then she froze, still hesitant, it seemed, to tell me what was wrong. "God," I whispered. "I'm dying aren't I?" I wasn't sure whether that knowledge made me want to cry or throw up. Scully frowned and broke her trance to walk the few steps to my bed so she could sit on the edge of it next to me. "No, John," she whispered. "You're not dying." "Then what the hell is it," I asked impatiently. She dropped the white cylinder in her lap and reached for my hand, wrapping it between both of hers. "John," she began again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You're pregnant." ******** THE END :::maniacal laughter::: Don't worry, I'm working on a sequel! Well...I'm thinking about it anyway. ;P This story was partially inspired by gormworm's "The Sad, Strange Case of Agent John Doggett: X-File". But mostly, it was inspired by my need to be evil and torture the crap out of the poor man. ;) "I don't know what it is about male pregnancy... It gives women a sadistic pleasure ;)" --Neige