Fata Viam Invenient
 

LANGLY:

May 15, 2001

It's our first anniversary.

Wow. Got married a whole year ago, and she hasn't attempted to kill me yet.

This is amazing.

Not that I would blame her at times. I can be such a bastard. I really try not to be, but you know, old habits are hard to break.

The big drag is, we got married on Sunday, so this year, our anniversary's on Monday. Having a holiday on a work day, well, it sucks.

And it's not like we're gonna get the day off or anything.

Ally's calmer now, has been for a few days. She had her last final last Wednesday, in physics, which she panicked big time over, but she passed it. 91. 93 in o-chem.

She's in. Come end of August, she's a grad student. When it was all over, I think she slept for 24 hours straight.

She's been sleeping a lot the past few days. I think school beat the hell out of her.

I keep wondering how she plans to do this. I mean, okay, she's in now. She starts end of August.

What happens if she's pregnant? I mean, last treatment would be in September, so she might not be when she starts the year, but she would be pretty soon after, and then what? How's she gonna do that? I mean, she's not like she's 25. She's supposed to take it real easy, at least that's what she's told. Her age and history aren't exactly on her side.

Ally's not always real good at listening, though. She always seems sweet, and with the exception of recent history, she is mellow, but man, try to get through to her, doesn't happen.

Plus she's working in Scully's lab, and with classes out, she's saying she needs to punch in some more hours, she's behind on her work, she needs to get caught up, blah blah blah...

She doesn't need to do this. She says she does, but she could give it up in a minute, or at least put it on hold. Well, that's my take on it, anyway.

I'd talk to her, but I bet she wouldn't listen. She'd pretend like she was, smile sweet, and then go and do whatever she damn well pleases.

Well, in normal life, she'd do that. The way she is right now, she might make that murder attempt.

While I'm thinking these evil thoughts, she reaches over and drapes her tiny arm around me, her left one. She sleeps on my left. Ally's real set in her ways on some things. Like she has to have the same side of the bed every night, sit in the same chair at dinner, park her car in the same spot each day.

That she gave up tequila and tobacco-willingly-speaks volumes for that woman's character. She's such a creature of habit. It's gotta be hard.

I pull her into me a little closer, till she's got her head under my chin. This isn't hard. She's a foot shorter than me. She kind of makes this noise like she's just real calm and happy, and she feels like it. She's been so tense lately, and this is like so nice, just having her be warm and mellow.

Too bad the alarm's about to go off.

God, I knew it was gonna go off, and I still jump thirty feet in the air when it does. Christ, that thing is LOUD.

It's on her side of the bed, so she gives it a good slam and shuts it up. It's been her alarm clock for nearly twenty years. The way she treats it, I'm surprised it's lasted this long. That tiny fist delivers a solid punch.

The cats, of course, recognize the alarm has gone off. This is their signal to start screaming for food. Within thirty seconds, all three of them are on the bed, yowling and pawing at Ally to get moving. She's the keeper of the food, so better to annoy her.

"My fan club," she mutters in this real sleepy voice. "God, I do NOT want to move." She pulls the blanket back up.

I could go with that. So we stay curled up together for a few more minutes.

Then she opens her eyes. She's got real pretty blue eyes. They're like dark, not like mine. Real deep blue. Sparkly.

"Happy Anniversary," she plants a good, solid kiss on me.

She'd better watch what she's doing here. This could have consequences.

"Hey Langly." She's playing with my hair. She loves my hair. I got to admit, I like my hair, and I sure as hell miss having as much as I used to.

"Hey shortstuff." I like teasing her about how little she is. She's like so perfectly petite, I can't help it.

"Langly." Now she's really looking me dead on in the eyes, and she's close enough that we can both tell this. We're both like totally blind. "It's been 17 days since I was implanted."

"Yeah?" I'm not sure where this is leading. Like maybe this means we can have a total free for all in the sack before work?

I could go with that.

"Well...I didn't get my friend yet."

"Your what?" Women are so confusing.

"Langly, you're such a guy!" She laughs at me and runs her hands through my hair. "I didn't get my period yet, is what I'm saying!"

"Should you?"

"I got it twelve days after I was implanted last time."

12. 17. A difference of 5. It's not for nothing I was a math major.

The implications of that equation are suddenly coming into focus, even for someone who is, as Ally always puts it when I'm dense, 'such a guy.'

"You think?" I'm pretty sure my heart just skipped two beats. At least.

"Well, I guess we could try to find out." She pulls back the blankets and moves herself off me. "Back in a few." She heads towards the shower.

She's surprisingly quick at getting out of the bathroom, I think it's because she doesn't blow-dry her hair. I let her go in first all the time because then I don't have to rush.

This morning, well, it's taking her forever to get out of there. At least from my side of the bed. Probably didn't take her much more than usual, but nothing like waiting to make the time stall.

I hear the water stop, nothing for a minute. Then I hear a, "No way!"

Oh well. Worth a shot.

"Langly, get up and get in here!"

Oh shit, what happened now? I hope her curling iron didn't short anything out.

I find my glasses-I've banged into enough walls and doors that no, I don't leave home without 'em. She's still in the bathroom, she's not dressed, still got a towel wrapped around her sweet little body.

"What's up?" I really am not in the mood for household repairs this morning.

"Come here, take a look." She hands me a six-inch wand with two dark blue stripes in it.

"O-kay." I'm looking.

"All right. Now look at the template." She hands me a slip of paper with several diagrams on it.

She did a pregnancy test. The top two diagrams indicate a result that says, better luck next time. The bottom two say, you shot, you scored.

Her wand matches one of the diagrams on the bottom. I check it again to make sure I'm really seeing this.

Oh man. She definitely doesn't match either of the top ones. And she does match up to the one on the bottom left.

No way.

Way.

YESSSS!!!

"We did it," she's like smiling and all excited and she just about jumps into my arms and knocks me over.

"Wow." I'm like, speechless.

Probably one of the few times in my life when I have been.

I'm like so blown away for a minute. I can't even talk. I can't believe this is happening.

Then we're screeching like little kids on Christmas morning who got everything they asked Santa for.

So what if our anniversary fell on a Monday?

It definitely doesn't suck.
 

BYERS:

I have not been sleeping well lately. More than once I've been tempted in the middle of the night to go on-line and check out if Mulder is awake. I declined to do it because while he might be awake, I think there are things other than simple insomnia keeping him up nights. Having two small daughters under the age of two will not do wonders for anyone trying to keep anything resembling regular hours.

I'm worried that I'll be joining his ranks in this endeavor. And I don't think I'm prepared to do that. Not yet, anyway.

I think I would like children...but I would like them planned, thank you very much. I've not done many impulsive things in my life. I don't want this to be one of them. I think it's a bad idea.

It's the end of the semester, so I have no classes left to teach, but I continue to hold office hours until grades are turned in. I have actually had students come in and plead for mercy in a couple of cases.

Whether or not they receive special dispensation depends upon their circumstances. If they have attended class faithfully, completed their assignments, and have a valid medical excuse, they will get all the assistance they want, and more. If, however, I haven't seen them on a regular basis, and assignments have tended to be sporadic, and there are no mitigating factors that they cannot control, well, I have to be a hardass about it.

I don't make a good hardass. It's just not in my nature to come down hard on people. I have to do it-it would be unfair to my other students were I not.

I am always amazed that I am propositioned at least once a semester by a female student who is either seeking an improvement in her grade, or has decided that the allure of an older professor is too much for her to resist. I wouldn't take advantage of these women; I never have. It would be terribly unprofessional and just plain wrong. Furthermore, while I know I don't scare children and small animals, I'm amazed that this seems to happen regularly.

I am also continuously astonished at the volume and nature of personal information my students are willing to confide in me. This is not limited to my female students; the male ones are equally forthcoming. I am utterly mystified by their doing this. They do not know me well, I am in a position to judge them, I am older.

I would never have confided in a professor. Not anymore than I would have confided in my father. Even if I were inclined to do so these days, it wouldn't be possible. He doesn't speak to me. We've not spoken for years.

I was seriously ill last spring, and my sister Kat tells me that he came down. I have no memory of him being there, of course; I was unconscious and in quarantine. Unfortunately, instead of he and I coming to terms, he and my sister broke ranks. Now not only does he not speak to me, but he has shunned Kat as well.

I am deserving of his wrath, but I very much doubt Kat is. It angers me that he has chosen to shut her out.

I miss Kat very much. Juliet and I have been invited to spend some time with her and her family at their summer place in Hilton Head, South Carolina. I'm very much looking forward to seeing her and my nieces and even my brother-in-law the dermatologist. Craig is a very decent guy, even if I do have to play golf with him while I'm there. I have no particular enthusiasm for the game, but it does give me a chance to talk with him.

I'm grateful my sister married him. There is nothing devious or mean-spirited in him. He is a wonderful husband and father, and he treats me well.

I wish I could be as affectionate and generous and kind as he is.

Instead, being totally self-centered and apprehensive as is the norm for me, I am sitting here, close to absolute panic.

Juliet is late.

As in late in the female sense of the word.

I realize it is entirely possible that she may simply be delayed. On the other hand, I'm well aware that delay may mean something else entirely.

I find I'm sweating. It's a warm day, but that's not the only reason for it.

I'm probably the only guy with a suit and tie on today. Since classes are not in session, most of my colleagues have adopted the casual Friday look, even if it is Monday.

I'd have never made it as a California professor. Ally says she never had a professor who wore a suit when she attended college on the west coast.

It's a holdover from attending prep school, I think. I grew up dressed like this. I do wear more casual clothing on weekends, but I'm so accustomed to being decked out in this manner, I would feel very strange coming to work in khakis or jeans. Ordinarily, it's my second skin.

Today, though, it's more like a straitjacket and strangulation device combined and disguised as one of my favorite suits. Juliet picked this one out. It's navy. Chalk stripes. I used to wear brown all the time, but she's getting me to branch out.

This is not easy for a person like me to adapt to, but I have to admit, she gives great advice on wardrobe choices.

I find it ironic that at a time when my partner in illicit activities, Langly, is trying with all his earthly might to be a father, I'm praying to whatever or whoever might be out there that this isn't my time. Life plays very cruel tricks sometimes.

Two students drop by to discuss their papers. They weren't happy with their grades. I explain to both that their analyses were weak and not sufficiently detailed. One of them accepts this with resignation, the other says he's going to academic appeals.

That's fine. I feel I could justify my position without difficulty in this case.

I'm not always so fortunate. I do many things I have no hope of justifying, save that I don't like seeing people lied to. Sometimes, that seems like very meager justification.

I have days when my entire life could be written as an apologia, I feel.

This is one of those times.

Juliet and I have never been careless. We couldn't even use the excuse that we were drunk, because we hadn't even had so much as a single glass of wine.

What came over us? More specifically, what came over me? I agreed to take responsibility for contraceptive procedures. And once again, I failed to live up to my part of the bargain.

We haven't said much. Juliet is fairly philosophical about the whole thing. She says, we'll just see what happens and take it from there. She feels there is no point in getting worked up over what may be nothing to worry over.

She's right, of course. But worry should have been my middle name, not Fitzgerald.

And right now, worried would be a gross understatement describing what I'm going through.

I finish recording grades for one of my sections. I only have to teach two sections as opposed to three, seeing as I am now head of the department.

I'd be willing to trade it all back. I've had this job since January, and I can't say I'm loving it.

I start on my second section when my phone rings. The phone has been very quiet all morning. It's still quite early, and without the panic of final exams and papers coming due, traffic is minimal.

It's Juliet.

With an announcement.

Her friend, she tells me, has arrived.

Only then do I remember that it's important to do things like breathe.

Oxygen is a wonderful thing.
 

LANGLY:

"What're you doing?" Ally's like filling her commuter mug-decaf, she hates it. Says it's like kissing your brother instead of your lover. But she says there's no way she can give up coffee completely.

Okay, she gave up everything else. I'll go with it.

"Getting ready for work, like I do every day."

"You're going to work?" What is she thinking?

"Langly, what did you think I was going to do? Vegetate for the next eight and a half months? I worked until two days before I had Miranda!"

Yeah, but you weren't 45, and artificially implanted, and you hadn't had a couple miscarriages...

I know if I say this to her, she's gonna laugh at me and tell me I'm being ridiculous. Or she's gonna get annoyed at me. Maybe both.

"Yeah, but aren't you supposed to kind of take it easy?"

"I AM going to take it easy. I don't have classes this summer."

That's her idea of taking it easy.

"I'm working this morning, I'll get this test confirmed this afternoon at Dr. Shalad's, and then I'm coming home and taking a nap, which, by the way, I could do very easily right now." She yawns hard. "God, I know it's been a long time, but I don't remember being this tired when I had Miranda. I was sick as a dog, but I feel like my legs are made of lead, which last time I don't think I did."

"So stay home and sleep."

"Not even, Langly." She snaps the lid on her mug. "I'm out of here. Happy Anniversary, babe." She stands on her tiptoes to kiss me, and I'm just like melting here.

Oh yeah!
 

"You're late," Bryce tells me when I walk in.

"Duh!" I know I'm late, and I don't give a flying fuck. Not today.

"Nathanson's looking for you," Goldie adds on.

"Well, he knows where to find me."

"Yeah, but do you really want him barging in on you and Ally?" Goldie's gonna start it up.

"Nah, he'd get jealous."

"Hey, Langly, asshole, no being happy down here on Monday morning," Bryce is in his usual growly mood. "It's against policy."

"Yeah, what's wrong with you?" Luke finally speaks, which he doesn't do all that often. "We hate you on Monday mornings."

"No, we hate you every day," Bryce confirms.

"So what's going on, you goy-boy? What's the occasion?"

"Two of 'em, actually."

"So give," Goldie doesn't like it when you withhold stuff from him.

This makes me think I should just keep it a secret all day, just to drive him nuts.

Nah. He'll drive ME nuts. And besides, I'm like exploding here.

"First anniversary."

"Oh, yeah, right. God, that was a party." These guys were all guests there, and I can't independently confirm this, but I think they were at the pub crawl.

"How would you know? You literally were crawling," Goldie chides out Bryce. "Before you passed out in the middle of Stella's and got your battle scars to remember it by.

Bryce ended up with three stitches in his chin, a beneficiary of my late mother-in-law's insistence that the bar stay open from start to finish.

"And...Ally and me, well, we aren't doing any more treatments."

"Why not?" Goldie is so fucking demanding.

"'Cause we scored on this one." I can't stop grinning. Christ.

This gets a few open mouths, and then I get a loud round of congrats and high fives. This is way cool, but it also gets my asshole boss's attention.

"Can't you ladies keep it down to a dull roar over here?"

"Forget it. Langly's gonna be a daddy." Goldie, of course, can't keep his fucking mouth shut for more than a few seconds at a time.

Nathanson's like a little quiet there, then looks over to me.

"When'd you find out?"

"This morning."

"Well, congratulations."

And he walks off.

Hey, saved me from a chewing out.

It's a noisy day, and we don't get a lot of work done, and I'm getting kidded all day long, and I don't mind. This is like so fun.

"So Langly? How's it gonna be to have your own little Jewish kid?" Goldie's joking around.

"Whaddya mean? How do you know what this kid's gonna be?"

"Come out of a Jewish mother, you're Jewish. Come on, you knew that, goy-boy. Didn't you?"

No, not really. Ally and me never talked about this. I mean, she's not real religious and all, she likes the traditions and the holidays and all that. And Miranda got raised Jewish, but she had two Jewish parents, not one, so she would be.

Hmm. Have to figure that one out.

I'm not too worried. Ally's decided she likes Christmas, too.

END OF PART 4