She's not wrong, much as he hates to admit it. Nothing slows Mulder down, from forced vacations to minor illnesses to eight-month alien abductions - but a baby throws a wrench into all of this. He still isn't sure just where he fits into Scully's life now, what his role is from here. Is he allowed to be his son's doting father? Can they have the same casual-serious thing as before? How far can they take this before it means risking the ire of the FBI?

He's studying her hands, one twined up with his, the other directing his attention back to the star of this conversation. They suddenly have everything, and he still knows nothing. "What do we do now?"