Title: Standing In for the Stork

Author: Beth

Fandom: Homicide/XFiles crossover

Pairing: Mulder/Bayliss

Disclaimers: Bayliss belongs to NBC and Baltimore Pictures, though the way they've treated him lately, they ought to loose custody. Mulder belongs to Fox, 1013, and that surfer guy. The kid is Wendi's and Regina is all mine!

Archive: yes

Notes: Well, since we're talking OCs today, it's a good day to post this. This is a response to the Stork Challenge on autofocus (http://baylissfan.simplenet.com/autofocus/grand.html). One of the list members wrote a little tale where Mulder and Bayliss were parents. She then challenged us to explain where the kid came from. My take on it. (Read the rest too, lots of fun stuff!)

Standing In for the Stork

by Beth

The fire engines roaring through the halls of my high school were enough to startle me from my dream. After a few seconds of bleariness, it dawned on me that it wasn't a fire engine, or an alarm clock. Since my husband wasn't stirring, it was obviously a mental alarm, just for me. Oh joy. I've never been at my best in the morning, but the powers of the universe obviously didn't care if I was crankier than usual.

It was one of those gray, dreary days where it's the same color outside from sunrise to sunset. Just what I needed to get motivated and moving. After a brief mental debate (well, more like some cranky muttering under my breath), I decided that since TPTB hadn't bothered to brief me, or do anything besides set off alarms in my head; I didn't have to take too much effort with this one. One pair of sweats, a B5 tee-shirt and some scruffy sneakers later, I was ready to go.

A few minutes later, I found myself standing in a deserted apartment. The date on the newspaper on the table was the same as the date I had left, and everything else indicated that if I wasn't in the same universe I started in, it was one very close by. As I passed through the kitchen, I was disappointed to see the coffee maker had been emptied and washed out already. Just my luck to find a neatnik. Caffeine was most definitely in order. I was about to raid the fridge when an odd sound made me jump. The apartment was not as deserted as I thought.

I moved carefully towards the sound. I didn't draw a weapon, but I was prepared. I figured the odds of finding a monster in a Baltimore apartment on a Tuesday morning (newspapers are great for getting yourself oriented in a new universe) were pretty slim. And if it was a resident, or the super coming to fix the pipes, I'd look pretty stupid pointing a sword at them. The kind of stupid that usually involves the police, a lot of paperwork, and even more fast talking.

In the bedroom, there was a wooden crate sitting in the middle of the bed. The sound, an odd combination of giggling and cooing, was coming from it. The crate clashed terribly with the decor, so I leapt to the conclusion that it was what I was here to deal with. I cautiously peered over the edge.

No. No way. No fucking way. I had not been dragged out my nice warm bed and across god knows how many universes to baby-sit. I spent several minutes seeing how many curses I remembered in every language I spoke. (But not too loud, the kid was happily chewing on her (the clothes were pink, I assumed female) foot, and I was not about to disturb her.) Once I finished exercising my memory, I realized that there was a note tucked next to her. Someone who obviously didn't know kids had set this one up. I was amazingly lucky she hadn't gummed it into little pieces.

Well, I wasn't quite as lucky as I thought. No gumming, but the kid had drooled all over it, making it soggy. The only thing that made it salvageable was that it wasn't written in ink. If it had been a stone tablet, I would've said it was carved, but since it was paper, it was just showing off. Before reading the note, I did a quick scan, and determined that a gateway had been opened up. Somebody had deliberately sent this kid here. The trail was cold, so I hoped I wasn't supposed to take her home.

Oh lovely, the note was addressed to me. If they were trying to send me the kid, wow, did they have bad aim. Last survivor of royal house, family dead, it sounded like a bad fairy tale. Ah, good, I wasn't supposed to keep her. I'd raised two of my own; I didn't need to go through that again. This apartment was determined to be the safest possible place for her anywhere. I wondered if the royal family had seen Baltimore's murder rate lately. I was just supposed to make sure that the people who lived here took care of her, and didn't try to do the proper thing and turn her over to the authorities. I rolled my eyes at the end. "This note will self-destruct in 30 seconds". The powers of the universe liked Mission Impossible reruns. Sure, fine, whatever.

I shouldn't have been surprised when the note vanished in a puff of smoke, but I was. So, I was supposed to tell this couple that they were instant parents. Somehow, I had the nasty feeling that this was not going to be an in and out in five minutes sort of job. The crate didn't look very comfortable, so I picked the kid up and took her with me as I explored the place. If I had information about the inhabitants, I could figure out the best way to approach them.

The bathroom was off the bedroom, so I started there. The neatness that I had noted in the kitchen was also evident here. Two toothbrushes in the holder, definitely a couple. No conditioner, no mousse, no hair gel, make-up of any sort. The cabinet only held mouthwash, shaving cream and two razors. I decided it was safe to assume that both of the inhabitants were men. This was going to make it tricky. More than tricky. Your average male/female couple had at least thought about the possibility of kids. But two guys... No wonder I was supposed to intervene.

The bedroom and living room didn't reveal much more. A few days of the Sun, a TV Guide. Pretty average, all in all. The last room was far more helpful. It was a study. I laughed; it looked like mine, papers strewn everywhere, piles of books, and a computer just barely sticking up through the mess. This was obviously the only room exempt from the cleaning evident throughout the rest of the apartment. Most of the papers turned out to be tabloids of the wilder sort. The kind that has "Walking Trees Invade North America" as its lead headline. Papers with scribbled notes were mixed among them. The books were an even split between UFOs and supernatural phenomenon. Next to the computer, there were several forms with FBI letterhead on them. One was an expense report. The guy was trying to write off a ruined suit, claiming he had been attacked by a shape-shifting dog spirit. This kid was going to have a very strange upbringing. I wondered what made her parents decide to send her here.

A sudden wet spot on my shoulder made me turn my attention back to the kid. She had fallen asleep and was drooling. I decided she was a very bright kid, a nap was a very good idea. I settled myself on the couch, with her on my lap, and waited for the two men to get home.

*

The rattling of the key in the lock woke me up. My charge was still sound asleep. That was good. This discussion was going to be hard enough, without a screaming baby distracting us. I stood up to greet them, and ended up with two guns pointed at me. It was a good thing I was holding a baby, because it kept me from any one of the instinctive reactions that probably would have gotten me shot.

Once I looked past the guns, I realized I knew one of them. I almost asked him why he was with the fed instead of Kellerman. Luckily, I stopped myself in time. I gave myself a mental kick. Parallel universes, infinite possibilities. You would think I'd remember that by now. Somehow, I didn't think Tim would deal well with knowing another version of himself had gotten involved with a coworker. Among other things, it'd make working together pretty damn awkward.

Had I been a cartoon, a lightbulb would've gone on over my head. The tabloids, the UFO books. I should have realized who the second man was, even before I saw him. It wasn't the first time I had met someone I had previously thought of as a fictional character, but it was always weird. Not that I held it against him. Where I grew up, my husband was fictional, a comic book hero, even. Hell, I was probably a character in someone's story, somewhere. I did wonder how Tim had met "Spooky" Mulder, though.

"You wouldn't shoot a lady with a baby, would you?" I asked, doing my best to look and sound harmless. (Not that I was, but the ability to lie convincingly is amazingly useful, especially when there are guns pointed at you.)

Mulder said, "Put up your han-" and stopped himself before he said something silly.

"Who are you, and why are you in our living room holding a baby?" That was Tim, always the detective. Never afraid to ask questions, even the blindingly obvious ones.

"Guess I must've forgotten the feathers and the beak today. Just think of me as a stand-in for the stork."

"The stork?" they managed to exclaim in unison. It was kinda cute, actually.

"Where did you think babies came from? You actually believed all that stuff about mommies and daddies loving each other and sperms and eggs?" I smiled, hoping I had pulled off silly and harmless, rather than raving lunatic, with my performance.

"I always thought they were found under cabbage leaves." Mulder's dry tone and stone-faced expression made it hard to tell, but the glint in his eye looked to me like I had managed to amuse him. When he lowered his gun, I was sure. Tim gave him a doubtful look, but followed his lead.

"If you're the stork, does that mean you're delivering?" Tim asked.

"Yup. Your very own bundle of joy."

"This is crazy! A strange woman breaks into our apartment, bringing a baby along for the ride, and then

expects us to take the kid? Why are we even listening to this?" Tim was angry, but the assessing looks Mulder kept shooting me were a good sign. I had piqued his curiosity. Knowing him and his obsessions, the easiest way to win him over was to tell the truth.

"Actually, I didn't bring her, I found her in a box on your bed. No locks were picked, no doors or windows opened, so technically, I didn't break; though you do have me on the entering part. And strange is a very relative term. Though I have been called much worse."

With an encouraging look from Mulder, and no active interruptions from Tim, I told the tale of tired, cranky mage and the baby she stumbled across. When I finished, Mulder looked pleased, and like he had a million and one questions. Tim was eyeing me in the manner that is usually reserved for bears that have wandered into your campsite, or lunatics who follow you down the street.

To my surprise, Tim was the first to speak. "Why should we believe this."

"It's too weird to be a lie? I have a nice, honest face?" I grinned. "How about this, who are you to

escape destiny?"

"What would stop us from taking her to the authorities as soon as you leave?"

"Simple. I'm not leaving until I'm certain you're keeping her. You like houseguests? I figure, two, three months tops, and I'll be certain. Anyway, you both work in law enforcement, you know how overworked the child welfare offices are. Do you want to give the kid up and risk something happening to her? If you keep her, you know she's safe." Judging from his reaction, I had hit a nerve with Tim, though I wasn't exactly sure how or why.

They exchanged glances, looked at me, and looked at each other again. They must've decided I wasn't about to reenact the raids of Genghis Khan in their living room, because they withdrew to the kitchen to confer.

I could've eavesdropped, but the kid was starting to stir, so I decided that keeping her calm was far more important. While they were talking, she woke up, but I managed to keep her quiet. I really didn't want the reality of the situation to hit them until I was gone.

After ten minutes or so, they came back. They both looked resigned, but there was a hint of anticipation,

too. "OK, we'll do it," Tim said.

"Why?" Mulder asked. I guess he could only hold onto his curiosity for so long.

"Why what"

"Why us? Why here? Why now?"

"I'm not the right person to ask. I mean, do you ask the UPS person why someone sent you a package? Just think of me as...cosmic UPS." That actually got a chuckle out of Tim.

"All I know is here is where she is supposed to be, and here is where I am making sure she stays. Anything past that is a mystery."

"What do we tell her when she wants to know where she comes from?"

"Tell her you pulled her from the rushes on the Nile, saving her from Pharaoh. I don't care. You are intelligent people, I'm sure you'll do fine. Now, I need to get your word on this." The kid was starting to look fussy; it was time to expedite my departure. "You both swear that you will keep her and raise her as your own?"

They both nodded, looking serious. I handed the baby over Tim, who was the slightly less nervous looking of the two. Since they had agreed, I felt slightly less guilty for slapping a spell on them. I had enough other things to do without making sure they kept their word. Not that I doubted them, but just in case...

"Well, I have other things to do-"

"Other deliveries to make?" Mulder said, with a sly grin.

"Something like that. Though right now, my plan is to deliver myself to some food and my bed. I will leave you gentlemen to the joys of parenthood."

I pulled out the Trump for home, and as I started to disappear, I heard the kid let out a wail that rivaled the mental alarm that had started this all. I laughed all the way home.

end