From: Andrew Goldman Date: Thu, 09 Jul 1998 12:09:28 -0700 Subject: Submissions/Gossamer- "I Love You Daddy" Title: I Love You Daddy Author: Alanna Guinevere E-mail: goldman@ntcnet.com Rating: PG, I guess. no violence, one bad word (yup, one, big bad me), a little sexual innundo (oo, "innundo", SAT word, my English teacher would be proud) Keywords: Pre-XF, SA Spoilers: allusions(don't you love that word, allusions?) to "Talitha Cumi," "Piper Maru," "Redux II," "Demons" (i.e., the idea that Mulder's mom had an affair with Cigarette-Smoking Man, and maybe he fathered her children.) Summary: Pre X-Files. Teena Mulder reveals the truth about her relationship with CancerMan to her husband; Fox has a nightmare Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. I only borrow them from Surfer Babe, god Carter himself, and yes I put them back when I'm done. Except Mulder. He lives with me. Surfer Babe gets him on alternate weekends and holidays. The rest of the time, he's mine. Hehe. Archive: Go'head, knock yourself out, but do me an eensy-weensy favor- tell me. I get a kick out of seeing my stuff archived, so I like to know. Thanks. Feedback: Author has been known to celebrate with a drunken soiree when feedback is received. Friends appreciate the free champagne, so please, send me some mail already! Feedback will be responded too. Praise will be excitedly thanked for and criticism will be heeded to. Send me flames, I like to know what I did wrong. I'll at least read it. The way I see it, you won't hate it any less if you don't tell me, but keep in mind you're reading the work of a 12-year-old. Author's Notes: This is a little piece, delving into Mulder's past, and all the stuff swimming around his father. I'm always interested in Mulder's history, and the idea that CSM is his father(scary thought though it is). I'm writing a big ole Pre-XF thing, and this is what happened when I got a wicked case of writer's block that even caffeine couldn't cure. I was half-asleep when I wrote it, so be kind. I stole the idea of calling CancerMan "Mr. Morley" from another fanfic I read. I can't remember which one, I'm sorry, it was a great idea, please don't mind. Thank you very much for it. Many thanks to my chicas- Katy-you're a great person! Camp'll rock, I swear. Ang-miss you sweetie, how's HHS? Come back and visit! Kallena- hehehe. say hi to StoneCold for me, and make sure Illion rocks. Laura- Damn the man! Save the Empire! Give Dennis my love hehe. Rachael&Emmy- miss you wicked! see ya at Christmas, or maybe sooner, don't know, say hi to Tashy 4 me. And now for our feature presentation... I Love You Daddy by Alanna Guinevere Fox was scared. He could hear Mommy and Daddy yelling downstairs. It seemed like they were always yelling. Sometimes he heard things smash, and the next morning a vase or a plate would be missing. Fox hated when they yelled. Usually, since they only fought at night, when they thought he was asleep, he just pulled his pillow over his head and tried to forget about it and go to sleep. But tonight it was harder. Fox didn't know why. It just was. Maybe because a few times, he heard one of them say his name. He didn't here them say anything else, because he wasn't listening until his name came through, and then they would lower their voices like they thought he might wake up. He buried his face into the matress, putting the Superman pillow case on top of his head. Mommy had brought the pillow case and matching sheets when she came back from shopping on the Mainland. "Super heroes for my super boy," she'd said. Mommy never yelled at him like sometimes Daddy did. Daddy always said he was sorry and hugged him after he yelled, and sometimes would let him pick out a baseball card from the comic book store, if he had yelled very loud. He pushed his face deeper into the matress. If he covered his ears, and hummed the Superman theme, he couldn't hear them. Soon he fell asleep. *** Fox was having a nightmare, which was scary, except he didn't know it was a nightmare, which was doubly scary. In his dream, someone was chasing him. He was running fast, so he couldn't turn around and see who, but he smelled something- cigarette smoke that made him choke and gag. As soon as he smelled the smoke, he realised who it was. Mr. Morley, his father's friend, who came to their house sometimes. Fox always thought it was funny that his cigarettes had the same name he did. He didn't know why, but Mr. Morley always scared him. Maybe it was the spooky way he watched him, when he was playing with his cars, or teasing Baby Samantha, like he knew something about the two of them even he didn't know. He was still running, and he someone a little way away- Daddy? He wasn't sure. Maybe. He ran toward Maybe-Daddy, but no matter how fast he ran, Maybe-Daddy never got any closer. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" he sat straight up in bed, crying. *** Bill and Teena Mulder were fighting, viciously. Is that a first? thought Bill. "Why did you tell me?" he demanded angrily. "Why even bother, Teena?" His wife was sitting at the kitchen table. "I thought you had a right to know." He turned away from her, placing his hands on the counter. "A right to know what, Teena? That you had an affair? That I'm raising another man's children in my home? Tell me something, Teena. How far back does it go? How long before Fox was born? Was it before we got married? Remember that, we're married? Or don't vows mean anything to you, as long as you get some when I'm not here!" "Stop it Bill!" she screamed. "Just stop it! I told you because I thought we could fix this-" "We are beyond help this time, Teena. There is no saving us!" "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Foxs' cries broke through the angry haze they were enveloped in. Teena's chin quivered. "Go upstairs, Bill," she said softly. "Go upstairs, and see what is wrong with your son." "He is not my son," Bill whispered fiercely. "Damnit, that doesn't matter! He thinks he is, and you won't tell him otherwise, ever. He sounds like a little boy who is very scared, and wants his daddy, and right now, you're it. Please, Bill, for me." "No Teena. Not for you. For Fox." He turned towards the doorway. *** Daddy ran into his room. It seemed like he had taken forever. "Daddy," Fox cried. Daddy came over to his bed and hugged him. "Oh, Fox, it's okay, did you have a bad dream?" Fox nodded tearfully. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Fox shook his head. He did, though, because Daddy might know why Mr. Morley was so scary, but he didn't, because Daddy seemed to like Mr. Morley. "Okay. Do you want a drink?" Fox nodded. "Could it be bathroom water, please, Daddy? Kitchen water tastes funny." He felt Daddy smile into his hair. "Sure. I'll be right back." *** Bill walked into the upstairs bathroom. Bathroom water. Fox wanted bathroom water. Okay. He turned the faucet on, smiling at the request. He let the water run cold. "Not your son," it seemed to say. "Not your son." He shook his head, trying to clear it. Even if he isn't your son, he thought, he still deserves a father. It wasn't his fault. Like you said. For him. Be Daddy for him. *** Daddy came back into his bedroom. He was carrying a cup of water. Fox reached for it. "Bathroom water," he said, smiling happily and gulping half of it. Daddy smiled back, but- and Fox wasn't sure why he thought this- his eyes looked sad. Could just eyes look sad, and not whole people? He wasn't sure. Maybe. Daddy's sure looked sad. Fox finished his water. Daddy took the cup from him. "Better?" Daddy asked. Fox nodded. "Okay, good. Can you go to sleep without me here?" Fox nodded again. "Okay. I'll tuck you in." Daddy tucked the Superman sheets around him. "Goodnight Fox." "'Night. I love you Daddy." *** Bill Mulder stood there, at Foxs' bed, for a long time. Finally, when he was sure he was asleep, he whispered, "I love you too, son." Slowly, he walked downstairs, throwing the cup in the garbage. Finie Yup. That's what comes out when I get writer's block. Other people write gratuitous smut. I write Mr. Mulder angst. Kind of makes you wonder about what it is that goes on inside my head doesn't it? Actually, now that I think about it, you wouldn't want to know. After an hour-Evita-in all her glory/on the window ledge of that 23rd story/like Thelma&Louise did when they got/the blues/swan dove into the courtyard of the/Gracie Mews -our benefactor, on this Christmas Eve, whose charity is only matched by talent, I believe, a new resident of Alphabet City, avant-garde Angel Dumott Schunard Peter Piper perpertuated pickled pepper pandemonium. -Ellen Emerson White I only regret the things I have not done. -Lucas "Empire Records"