Viable. What a week. Yesterday Mulder had revealed that he'd kept a vial of her stolen ova hidden from her for well over a year, and today she'd discovered that against all odds they could very well be viable. After all that was done to her, how could this even be possible? Surely this was a dream. She couldn't decide if she was angry with him or exceedingly grateful. Probably both, if she was being honest.

She felt as if everything had changed for her, and yet nothing was different at all. Sure, she could possibly have children at some point in the future, but there was still the problem of who to have them with. Without a father, she was right where she'd been all along: unable to have a child of her own. Unless she could find someone, as Doctor Parenti had suggested. Or she could use a sperm donor, but she wasn't too fond of that option.

She would have to dip into her savings heavily to be able to afford even one attempt at in-vitro fertilization, and the odds of it taking were not in her favor. Was it even worth it? What if it failed? It would destroy her. She'd already lost one child, she couldn't lose another. What if it took? Would Mulder stick around as her partner? She might have to quit the FBI to become a stay-at-home mother.

Anyone other previously infertile woman would be ecstatic at receiving this news. So why didn't she feel anything? Had she really managed to numb her feelings about the manner so completely in self-defense?

Oh well, she'd have to brush it off before their meeting with the board. The first item of business was to get the X-Files back. After that, she could figure out how to ask him. Wait, I'm asking him? She hadn't even given it a second thought, but her brain instantly locked onto Mulder and refused to let go. But this was a problem for another time. For now, work took precedence over personal life. Besides, she should sit on this decision for a while, make sure she was absolutely positive she could ask this of Mulder.

Watching Mulder today, and the gentleness with which he treated Gibson when he was sick, really cemented Scully's decision that he would make a good father to a child, should she choose to ask him. Up until now, she'd never really thought of him as a father, but now she couldn't help seeing him in a different light.

When Gibson had accused her of thinking of him as a lab rat, she had had an extremely vivid vision of what Emily might have one day said to her if she had been allowed to grow up.

For an instant, she had seen her little girl's sweet face, softened by baby fat (she was barely three), tears in her eyes, asking her why. Why had she let this happen to her, if she really loved her like she said? Why was she letting these doctors run tests on her daughter if there was nothing wrong?

How could she look Emily straight in the eyes and tell her everything was okay, when her eyes were clearly full of fear? She just wanted her mother's comfort, and Scully couldn't even provide that.

She hit the wall with her fist, willing the guilty tears in her eyes to go away. It wasn't time for this. Wasn't time to be lamenting all that she'd lost when she could still save this little boy.