Aftermath (1/2) Date: 18 Sep 1995 Ohmigosh, I can't believe it! I actually got this thing posted. Well, maybe. . . Standard disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Cancerman, Mr. X , the Alien Bounty Hunter, Samantha Mulder, and the X Files themselves belong to 20th Century Fox, Ten Thirteen Productions and Chris Carter (bless his demented little heart) and all those incredibly smart people who have invested money in Fox stock. I don't own any of it, unfortunately, but I don't own any Netscape stock, either or I would be out spending my millions. I use all of the aforementioned stuff with the utmost respect and love, but absolutely no greed and not a smidge of permission. No copyright infringement intended!! Brad LaMont, Angela Morphew and Jeff Andrews are of my own creation. Anyone may use them, just please give me credit. Acknowledgement: Mary Abel, my ever faithful Muse, who very gently removed "*" from my limited vocabulary and gave me great encouragement. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am going to change my first born son's name to SUe, for all the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get this thing posted. And undying graditude to all those who post stories on this news group and give me something to do with the spare time I don't have. I love all the stories posted! It has certainly helped make a long summer of reruns more enjoyable! (And you thought you had missed all those sappy acceptance speeches at the Emmies! HAH!) Finally, a note about this story. I rate it PG-13, and Alternate Universe, but it is more X-files than romance. Mulder and Scully do get married very early on. Sorry, had to do it, it just didn't work any other way. So if that turns your stomach, bail out now. There is some gore, but nothing that compares to "Nightmare on Elm Street". There is no "sex, described in loving detail"--we're talking MARRIED, here. All sex takes place in the dark, by themselves, no viewers allowed! It would help a lot if the reader has seen Colony/Endgame and, of course, Anazai. I only hope I can get it posted before Mr. Carter debuts his own version of the second half of the cliffhanger and makes this obsolete. I would appreciate all comments, this is my first attempt. Just be nice, my ego is fragile. Thanks for reading. Hope you like it. AFTERMATH By Vickie Moseley University Medical Center Albuquerque, New Mexico April 29, 1995 10:24 am Fox Mulder had been awake for several minutes, but kept his eyes closed. He was fairly certain he was alone in the room and didn't relish the thought of confirming that by looking around. Dana Scully, his partner, best friend, his everything he could think of, had been there when he had fallen asleep, half-way through his breakfast. He was sleeping an awful lot lately, mostly due to the drugs they kept pumping into him for the pain. They sedated him at night so he wouldn't have the dreams--the boxcar, dark and musty, filled with skeletons, then suddenly on fire, burning the walls, burning the old bones,. . .burning him. The burns on his back had healed sufficiently that he was now allowed to lay in a regular bed, but the burns on his legs would take longer. he hoped silently. But then, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He knew where she had gone. Scully had mentioned that she was going to have a conference call with the DC Bureau this morning. He noted with interest that he was not included in the attendees at the New Mexico end of the meeting. They would be talking about him, no doubt. He was sure the reason Scully had left him off the guest list was because she intended to plead his case and didn't want him pissing anyone off while she was trying to get him clemency. He swallowed, wishing he had the strength to reach over and get the water cup he knew would be on the tray table. Along with some seeds, which he knew were secreted in the top drawer of the little metal chest that sat next to his bed. She had not said a word the day she brought them in. She just glared directly into his eyes and put them in the drawer, daring him to comment. He had finally discovered that discretion did have an upside, and had dutifully kept his mouth shut. It told him a lot about their relationship. She knew that the seeds would have been confiscated by the floor nurse--they were definitely not on his diet. Usually, she would have fought on the side of the nurse. Now, somehow, hospital rules didn't seem as important as his wishes, and so she had brought the seeds. he chided himself. But he had sensed other changes, too. Scully had never left his side, as far as he knew, while he had been in the hospital. he reminded himself. Of course, there wasn't a lot of nightlife in Dead Horse, Alaska. It wasn't like it was the resort area of the Alaskan Coast, or anything. But she had stayed with him, until he had been well enough to come back to "the lower 48". he countered. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, fumbled with the buttons clipped right next to his right hand and turned on the television above the foot of the bed. "Anything interesting on Geraldo?" Scully asked, as she entered the room and pulled the more comfortable highback chair closer to the bed, turned so she could see the TV, too. He caught her giving the monitors over his bed a quick once over. At least she had stopped taking his pulse every time she was near him! "Transvestites in law enforcement," he replied, "And they haven't mentioned J. Edgar once. This guy has absolutely no sense of history, Scully." He moved his hand and clicked off the TV. "OK, let's have it." "First, I talked to your lawyer. Your Mom's condition hasn't changed. The doctor suggests the Haven, a nursing home up in Cape Cod. Have you heard of it?" she asked. "Yeah, it's good. Can Anderson make the arrangements for payment before dad's will goes to probate?" he asked. He hated dealing with any of this. His mother had undergone a complete nervous breakdown after his father's murder. She had been in the hospital in Chillmark since and the hospital had politely suggested that a nursing home was the preferable alternative. In his present condition, Mulder was forced to rely on her doctor's opinion and his father's lawyers to see to the details of her care. She was in a state of catatonia and from all indications, would remain that way indefinitely. "He said it wasn't a problem, apparently she's still covered by your father's insurance. But he did mention that there were other places that were, ah, less expensive," Scully said quietly. "It's not his money and not his mother," Mulder growled and leaned back, closing his eyes. After a minute he sighed and opened his eyes. "What's the report from Skinner?" Scully shifted in her seat. She was still trying to figure out how to phrase the conversation that had taken over 45 minutes. Most of it would only serve to infuriate her already upset partner and she didn't like that idea one bit. She decided to keep it short and sweet. "The DA in Massachusetts is dropping all murder charges against you." "Did he issue a warrant for Krychek?" Mulder asked anxiously. Scully sighed. He was not going to like this part. "No," she said slowly. "Actually, based on a revised report from the ME, they've ruled it a suicide. No warrants have been issued." "What! A suicide! How the hell did my Father manage to shoot himself in the back of the head, Scully?! What is this, Soviet Russia?! The man was murdered! I was there! He did not commit suicide!" His face was red and the monitor beside his bed showed a marked increase in blood pressure. "Mulder, either settle down, or I sedate you now and tell you the rest later!" Scully warned. He didn't say anything at first, but she could tell he was trying to get control of his emotions. Ranting and raving from a hospital bed would not get him anywhere. He'd deal with it later. "I suppose it gets worse," he said glumly, when he finally spoke. "Depends on how you look at it," she said cryptically. "Anyway, all charges have been dropped, no inquiry, no record. You are free, as far as the criminal justice system is concerned." "And as far as the Disciplinary Committee of the FBI is concerned?" he asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation. "They have an offer. Permanent disability leave. Medical and psychological reasons. Full benefits, you keep your pension, you can receive disability, a monthly stipend." She waited for the explosion. "And if I say 'shove it up your a. . .'", he growled. "Summary dismissal without chance of reinstatement," she answered quietly. "The proverbial 'rock and the hard place', eh? So what happens to you? Some closet morgue at Quantico till retirement?" "No," she said quietly, looking down at the floor. "I get the 'opportunity' to resign." She looked up and gave him a fatalistic smile. "I get my vacation time in pay and I can keep my insurance for the standard 18 months of COBRA. I get a good recommendation, as long as I don't go into law enforcement." She was biting her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. She was hurting. "They can't do this to us, Scully! I won't let them. I"ll take every dime my dad left me and sue their asses to hell and back, so help me. . ." he growled with total contempt. "Mulder, I've had a lot of time to think about this and I don't want to go back! Once I thought the Bureau was a place I could distinguish myself. Now, I can't get far enough away from there! They had full knowledge of my abduction and did nothing. They tried to frame you for your father's murder _and_ kill you in a fire while they were destroying evidence. I don't want to be associated with that kind. I'm just as glad it's over. Now I don't have to worry about it," she said, then sat back and watched the TV screen, which was blank, for a moment. Mulder reached over, with a grimace and sought for her hand. She smiled at the gesture and took his hand in hers. "Don't let this get to you, Scully. I'll think of something. Don't I always?" he asked with a smile that didn't manage to reach his eyes. Still, she appreciated the effort. "I've already thought of something, Mulder. You know, I've had a chance to see Albuquerque in the last week and a half," she started. "Took you that long, heh," he quipped, but quieted when she shot him a scowl. "Anyway," she glared at him to ensure continued silence, "It's not a bad little town. I made some inquiries at the University. There is an opening on the faculty of their Med school, pathology department." "That's great!" Mulder said, finally perking up for the first time in the conversation. "And the psych department is looking for someone with a background in deviant behavior. It's an associates position, but no previous teaching experience is required." She watched his face intently, hoping for a favorable response. "I don't know, Scully. I never thought about teaching. What about . . ." his face clouded as he swallowed hard. "Sam?" Scully finished the sentence. He could do no more than nod. "Mulder, they have an observatory in the desert. Faculty get access to it and all the reports. There is a large and very active SETI group, as well as NICAP and MUFON. I saw posters all over the university. I think we stand a better chance of finding Samantha here than anywhere." "'We' stand a better chance, Scully?" he asked, a faint smile forming on his lips. "If you haven't figured out that I consider this 'my' search as well as 'your' search, you need some serious training in interpersonal relationships, Mulder! We're partners. I thought that went beyond the FBI, beyond the government, beyond everything. Our jobs may change, but that doesn't. I won't let it." He was smiling broadly at her now. "And I was thinking. . .you know it seems really stupid for us to get two separate apartments. Especially with the price of rents out here. . ." "Scully, it's a nice idea, but I gave up 'living' with a woman after my unfortunate experiences at Oxford," Mulder interrupted. "Mulder. . .I don't want to just live with you. I. . .I thought. . Mulder, do you love me?" she asked, looking at their hands and then up to his face. He looked back in confusion and then, finally, realization. "Do you even have to ask?" he whispered. "You know I love you, Dana." "I know, but I just thought it would be nice to hear it," she smiled. "Mulder, I thought, since we don't have to worry about Bureau Rules and Regs anymore. . ." She hoped he knew where she was heading. By the look in his eyes, he was right on target. "I would be happy to marry you, Dana Katherine Scully," he said, taking her hand and kissing it gently on the palm. "But don't you want to be home, with your family, and have a big church wedding?" "Mulder, Mom has been here since Tuesday. Once we found you, wild horses couldn't keep her away. You're always asleep when she comes up to see you. And as for the boys and Melissa, they don't need the upheaval of a big wedding. I want to marry you, just as soon as the doctors release you. I've thought of nothing else, all the time you've been here. When you were in the fire, and I thought you were dead. . ." her voice choked and tears were brimming on her eyelids. "Shh, none of that. You just proposed. You have bigger things to worry about. You have to buy me a ring," he teased and was rewarded with a smile through the tears. An office somewhere in the Pentagon Washington, DC January 3, 1996 The gray suited man with dark skin and darker eyes sat behind his mahogany desk and frowned at the file in front of him. He had been keeping track of their activities since their departure from the mainstream, and was not at all surprised to find them as active in their endeavors as ever. It appeared that nothing could, nothing would stop them. And their popularity was as high as ever among certain more vocal groups! Eliminating them had become a dangerous option, one that was to be avoided at all costs. At least when they had been in the government's employ, they were more likely to follow some direction. They still stumbled into things that were better left hidden, but they also managed to rack up some impressive discoveries that had proven to be very useful to him. His predecessor had never understood how to deal with them. Not to mention that they held a record for the number of truly dangerous individuals they had put behind bars. Many of his colleagues would never have guessed that he would consider that important. They didn't know him very well. It was very important, for purely personal reasons. He had been very happy to take over this assignment. He looked away from the file and surveyed his surroundings. The office had finally taken on his own personality. It had taken a few days to air out the room, after the 'unfortunate' demise of it's former occupant. Lung cancer was never a pretty sight. Funny, he now considered it from the point of view of the disease. After all, it had been fairly beneficial, at least in this case. The world was better off without the likes of his predecessor. And with himself in this position, maybe things could change. He wasn't an idealist--that was fatal in this line of work. But even he could hope for the better. There was the matter at hand, for example. No one would have considered it an opportunity to set things right. But he did. He scribbled some notes on the margin of the file before him, and called to his secretary. "Get me Walter Skinner, FBI on the line, Marcia. Tell him it's a matter of National Security." He sat back, turned his chair around till he faced the window behind him, and smiled. In many ways, it was going to be a good year. 4267 Oakwood Terrace Albuquerque, New Mexico January 6, 1996 Fox Mulder shoved his wire-rimmed glasses up higher on his nose and chewed absently on the end of his pencil. His legs were stretched out in front of him, under the coffee table that Dana's mother had given them as a wedding present. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, the same couch that had been in Scully's apartment in Washington. Before him was an assortment of journal articles, textbooks and syllabus from other classes. Reaching out to snatch up a journal article, he scribbled some notes on a yellow legal pad. Suddenly, his senses became aware of another person, unsuccessfully trying to sneak up on him from over the back of the couch. He smiled, but didn't let on that he heard anything. Two petite arms reached out to encircle his chest and he quickly reached up and grabbed them, sliding the 'assailant' over his shoulder and into his lap. "You, my love, are getting _rusty_!" he chided. "I've heard freshmen lost on the first day of class move more quietly!" His wife, Dana Scully, tightened her arms around his neck and nuzzled his chin. "Who said I didn't want to be heard?" she whispered. "Are you coming to bed or do you want to play 'strip search' here in the living room?" she purred in his ear. "Wife, I have work to do," he said firmly, but his hands were still roaming over the length of her back. "I told you not to sign up to teach a winter mini-term," she gloated. "You thought you'd be bored to tears with all that time off between finals and New Years. But you didn't even manage to get one journal article finished and the hall closet still needs painting!" She disengaged herself long enough to glance over her shoulder at the coffee table. "And I am not cleaning that up, either!" She leaned back toward him and kissed him possessively on the mouth. "_Come_to_bed_," she said in a voice that would not allow no for an answer. Bending his knee up, he used it to push the coffee table away from them. Then, shifting his weight, he laid her down on the Navajo rug and proceeded to unbutton the buttons of her blouse. "You have the right to remain silent. . ." he murmured in her ear. And stopped dead when the doorbell rang. "If that's a student, they just flunked their next class with me," he growled, as he untangled himself and went to the door, walking slowly enough to allow Dana to button up and tuck in. Glancing over to see her nod, he looked through the curtained window next to the door and gulped in stunned surprise. Shaking his head, he opened the door and stared into the face of Assistant Director Walter Skinner. "Of all the people who could be calling at this hour, you are not one of the ones I would have guessed!" Mulder said in shock. By this time, Scully had joined him and was gapping at their former boss in amazement. Fortunately, she recovered quickly and reaching past her husband, grabbed the older man's arm and pulled him into the foyer. "Assistant Director Skinner! Hello, ah, Happy New Year! Come in! What are you doing in New Mexico," Dana asked, taking the older man's jacket and hanging it on the coat tree by the door. "Can I get you some coffee?" Mulder tried to convey to his wife with glaring looks. She shrugged her shoulders apologetically. "Coffee would be nice, Agent. . .Uh, Dr. Scully. Or are you going by Dr. Mulder these days?" Skinner asked, trying to gloss over his faux pax. "I think we've known each other long enough to call me Scully, sir," Dana said, smiling in amusement at the AD's obvious discomfort. "Fox, sweetie, show the AD into the living room," she said, rather pointedly to Mulder. He scowled at her, but did as he was told. "Well, Mulder. . ." Skinner started. "I'm the one going by 'Dr.' Mulder, these days, sir," Mulder said with barely concealed contempt. "Of course. I sort of forgot you can claim that title as well, _Doctor_ Mulder," Skinner said, diplomatically. Dana took the opportunity to trip and kick her husband in the shin, which he tried unsuccessfully to avoid. she told him with a look that he knew would cost him later if he ignored. When they were settled on the sofa, with Skinner in the wing chair across from them, an uncomfortable silence blanketed the room. Skinner sighed and realized it was his responsibility to get the conversation going. He hated this, he was usually a complete failure at social gatherings and even more so in hostile environments. But in this particular instance, it was his job. "So, did you have a nice Christmas?" he asked politely. "Very nice. Didn't get shot at or burned in a boxcar once the entire time. Funny, how little things like that can really make a holiday," Mulder said sarcastically and was rewarded with a quick jab to the ribs. He silently prayed that Skinner didn't intend on making this a long visit. He would have to endure another trip to the ER to tape up the broken bones in his chest. Skinner tried very hard to ignore the anger in Mulder's voice. He could hardly blame the younger man. The Bureau had treated him horribly. It didn't make what he had come to say any easier. He sipped his coffee and sought the right words. Mulder had just about had enough. "Mr. Skinner, could you please cut to the chase and tell us why you are here. I was just about to take my wife to bed and. . ." another cut to the ribs, "Ow! . .get a full night's sleep, something I seldom managed to have time for when I was under your employ." He rubbed at his side and shot a glare at Scully, who looked impassively at the AD. "I, ah, have an offer to make. It seems that we at the Bureau have need of your expertise in a certain area. Of course, it would be on a strictly contractual basis, but it has been decided that you, Dr. Mulder and you, Dr. Scully are the only people available with the knowledge and experience in this area. You would be paid on the normal contractual scale for professionals bearing your qualifications--which, I have discovered, is considerably more than you were paid when you were agents doing the same work," he noted with a faint hint of humor. "We're not interested," Mulder said flatly. "Look, Mulder, I know you have every right to be angry. But things have changed. A certain individual who used to inhabit my office has died recently--of lung cancer. His successor is a much more reasonable man, and has requested your assistance on this matter. It is in the interest of national security, Mulder. Please consider it fully before you make a decision." He pulled a file out of his briefcase and set it on top of the pages on the coffee table. "At least read the file before giving me an answer." He got up and reached his hand over to Scully. "I forgot to congratulate you on your marriage. You both look like married life agrees with you." Scully took his hand and smiled. "Thank you, sir. It does." Skinner turned his attention to Mulder, who ignored the outstretched hand by making a great effort at getting out of the couch to see him to the door. When they reached the foyer, and Mulder was pulling the jacket off the coat tree, he leaned forward. "Dana is pregnant with our first child, Skinner. She isn't showing, yet, but the baby's due in late July. I have absolutely no intention of putting either my wife or my child in any danger--national security be damned. Do I make myself clear?" he seethed through tightly clenched teeth. "Just read the file, Mulder. Make your decision then, I will abide by it. And I really did mean what I said. You do look much happier, even if you are trying your best to be a hard ass about this." With that, the Assistant Director of the FBI squeezed Mulder's shoulder and left. By the time Mulder made it back into the living room, Dana had already started to read the file Skinner left. Mulder watched her become engrossed in the photos and flipping to the back where she knew the autopsies would be located. He walked up to her and took the file gently out of her hands. "My son says he wants his Mommy to go to bed. And so do I. Come on. You'll have plenty of time to read this behind my back while I'm out running in the morning. Let's go get some sleep." He leaned over and lifted her out of the chair. "Sheesh, you're putting on weight, my love!" "Why do you think they call it 'baby fat', Cave man?" she nuzzled him in the neck as he carried her to their room. Dana woke up to find the space beside her empty. The light was still out in the bathroom. She pulled her robe on and padded out to the living room in bare feet. There he was, sitting on the couch, the light of the television the only brightness in the room. His glasses were on and he was pouring over what she could only guess was the file that Skinner had left. "Find anything interesting?" she asked in a stage whisper. His startle reflex confirmed just how involved he had become with the information in front of him. "I was wrong earlier. You haven't gotten rusty," he said, moving over so she could curl up next to him. "Why were you such a little shit tonight, Fox? I mean, I thought we had decided that leaving the Bureau was a good thing. You acted like Skinner had shot your dog and stolen your bible." "You forgot 'raped my wife'," he pointed out. "I don't know. I do love my life, now. I love you, I love being married and being able to sleep with you and know that if I need you, you are always there. I could never have had this life if we had stayed there. But I can't help resenting the way we left! I mean, it wasn't our decision, Dana! We were fired! We had an exemplary record, the highest solved/conviction ratio of anyone in the Behavioral Sciences Division! And they branded me a psycho and forced you to resign! That still pisses me off, OK?" He stared glumly at the TV and absently scratched at an old scar on his arm. "And you still miss it," she said quietly. "So do you," he accused. "I know. We are absolutely pathetic, Fox. We have great jobs, over three months a year off, if we want it. We have a nice house, a baby on the way. You finally sleep through the night, I don't have nightmares anymore! And we both dream about going back to a life where we get shot at, blown up, screamed at for doing our jobs and never believed when we tell the truth! We are two very sick puppies, sweetheart. You should let one of your master's students do a thesis on us. We are deviant!" Mulder put his arm around Scully's shoulders. She leaned closer and was soon kissing his neck. He turned his head and sought her mouth, kissing it fully, pressing and exploring. She broke away with a soft gasp. "You have the right. . ." she whispered, but that was as far as she got. Scully had coffee made and bagels set out on the cupboard to thaw, waiting for Mulder to return from his morning hour's run. Glancing over her shoulder, as if he might really come in and catch her, she picked up the file and started to read. She couldn't believe it at first. It felt like she had never left. The case was the murders of six individuals in four states. Each of the bodies had been mutilated, much of the skin removed and the heart and livers. The hair had been cut short, almost shaved. For all the world, it looked like the victims had been used as science experiments--they had all been dissected. There was very little solid evidence, no fingerprints, nothing to go on. Except reports in every town of bright lights in the sky and in three of the six cases, red lightening. "Sounds like an X File," she said to herself, sipping her only cup of coffee for the day. "Ohhh, that sounds sexy," he gasped as he came in the back door, sweaty and red faced. He flopped down in the chair by the kitchen door, pulling off sneakers and wet socks and wiping his face on a nearby dish towel, while his wife scowled at him for do so. "What sounds like an X file?" he asked, finally getting a mug of coffee and throwing a bagel in the toaster oven. "Wheat or cinnamon raisin, love?" he asked before she had an answer to his first question. "Whole wheat and this file, but not in that order," she said, still examining the photos in the file. "Mulder, this is really weird." "You mean weird enough for you to call me 'Mulder'?" he asked, gingerly picking the bagels out of the toaster and spreading cream cheese on each half. She smiled at him and nodded. "Yep! That weird. These people, four women, two men, were dissected! But the really weird thing is that it happened within minutes of reports of very bright lights in the sky, and red lightening." Mulder took the file from her as she got up to get a glass of milk. He read the reports filed at the scene, the eye-witness reports of the lights and lightening, and finally the autopsies. After about a half an hour, and two more bagels, he closed the file and laid it back on the kitchen table. "OK, I'll admit it. I'm interested. Maybe even interested enough to do something about it." "So we call Skinner and tell him we'll take him up on his offer?" Scully asked, trying to keep a firm lid on her excitement. "And which WE would that be? Me, you and the baby? Un huh. You are not getting involved in this. You have a much more important job right now, just getting the right foods and enough rest so my son can play quarterback for the Red Skins!" He watched his wife roll her eyes at the reference to a son while he reached over and patted her stomach affectionately. "Baby knows what Mommy should do, don't you baby? Even if Mommy doesn't!" He poured himself more coffee and headed to the room he called the study and she called the nursery. "Fox Mulder! You get back here!" she stormed, following him into the brightly lit room. Sunlight streamed in from three walls of windows. He was already sitting down at his desk, logging onto his computer and sorting through his e-mail. "Hey, Dana, Frohike wants to know what colors we're using for the nursery. He wants to have a shower for the baby," he said, ignoring her glaring looks. "Why can't I be involved in this, Mulder? How dare you make that kind of a fiat and expect me to obey! This is not the middle ages! I am a medical doctor, I know my limits. And I am perfectly able to perform up to my old standards!" she ranted. "Last night, I'd say you surpassed your old standards, my little lustful one. But my original statement still stands. You are not getting involved with this. It is too dangerous. End of discussion." "Neanderthal!" she shouted and stomped out of the room. "I'm calling Skinner and telling him we can leave for DC anytime!" she shouted. "Never marry a red head, my grandmother always said. Like I would listen!" he muttered and marched out into the living room just in time to hear his wife making their airline reservations. He glared at her with both hands on his hips. "Somebody's gotta watch your back, Spooky," she soothed, and went back to making the arrangements. Baltimore-Washington International Airport January 7, 1996 3:35pm Margaret Scully searched the crowd of departing passengers for her daughter and son-in-law. 'Son-in-law'--it still seemed a little odd to think of him in that way. Of course, she had been overjoyed when Dana and Fox had married, but she had spent so much time not hoping too much for just such an occurrence that now it seemed too good to be true. She wished they hadn't decided on living on the other end of the country, but they had made it home for Christmas and now, they were staying the night before going down to Washington to do some consulting. She had wondered what was going on, but they hadn't offered to explain and she hadn't pried. "Mom! We're over here!" Dana shouted over the heads of the other passengers. Her quick pace and Mulder's long legs covered the distance in no time. A great deal of hugging ensued and no one looking on would have thought that these three people had just said goodbye only a week before. "Mom, you still got that leftover meatloaf from the night before we left," Mulder asked as he put one arm around her waist and the other around Dana's and the threesome started toward the baggage claim area. "All defrosted and ready to be warmed up. Good thing I stopped you at seconds, or I would have had to make another!" she laughed and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I know, I'm the biggest pain in the behind you have, Mom. And you love me," he grinned. Somehow, the conversation in the car on the ride to the Scully home centered around the baby. Margaret was dying to know why her children were going to Washington. She still didn't understand why they had left the FBI, she knew it had something to do with Fox' health, but beyond that simple knowledge, she was at a loss. Even so, she had secretly been as happy with their change of jobs as she was with their marriage. And at Christmas, they had seemed very happy with their new life together and their new careers. Now, even though the banter in the car was light, as always, she could sense a certain tension and it was driving her crazy. "Oh, Mom, if we get a chance, I need to go shopping for maternity clothes," Dana mentioned as she unpacked the overnight bag in the spare bedroom that she and Mulder would share. "How about tomorrow afternoon?" Maggie suggested, still unsure of just how long they would be visiting. Dana frowned, "Probably not. I'm sure we'll be tied up tomorrow and to be real honest, we may be on the road before tomorrow night. We don't have a lot of time, Fox has classes starting the 17th. This project needs to get finished before then." "Dana," Maggie said slowly, "you know I don't want to pry, but what exactly *is* this project? Fox doesn't seem very happy about it, whatever it is." "Oh, ignore him. He's just being overprotective and my being pregnant is giving him ample excuse to act like the male chauvinist he isn't," Dana said lightly. "I have no intention of putting myself in any dangerous situations, but to Fox, just walking into the Hoover Building is going to put me in peril." Seeing the concerned look forming on her mother's face, she reached over and squeezed Maggie's shoulder. "Don't worry, Mom! We want this baby far too much to put it in danger. This is just a little consulting job, something more to give Fox a chance at healing some old wounds than anything else. We'll be fine, I promise." "What's this about 'healing old wounds'?" Mulder asked as he stuck his head in the doorway. "The oven timer just went off, Mom. I set the table and made sure the gravy wasn't turning to cement. Looks like chowtime." After dinner, Fox and Dana did the dishes and then joined Maggie in the family room. They spent the evening watching videos of Christmas morning, something they hadn't managed to get around to while they had been visiting the week before. After laughing so hard that tears were streaking down their cheeks, all decided it was time to turn in. In their room, alone for the first time since they arrived, Fox pulled Dana into an embrace. "I really love your Mom. Thank you for letting me share her," he murmured into her hair. "Well, you're welcome. But even if I had other plans, I have the feeling she would still consider you one of her 'brood'. She loves you right back, you know." She pulled away and started changing into her nightgown. He eyed her longingly, but kept his distance. This was her mother's house, after all. And by tomorrow night they would be in a nice, expensive hotel in DC, at Bureau expense. He could wait one night. . . "So, what were you saying earlier about 'healing old wounds'?" he asked, trying to get his mind off his now barely clothed wife. "Don't you ever get tired of eavesdropping?" she teased. "I thought you'd learned your lesson." "That was different," he countered. "You should have known better than to talk about my present in a normal tone of voice so close to Christmas. And this time, I wasn't 'eavesdropping'! I was coming to announce dinner!" he countered, his voice indignant. "'Announce' dinner? I remember something like 'it's chowtime'," she grinned. "OK, I'm not Mr. French. You still haven't told me what you meant." His look told her he was not going to let this go without a discussion. "I just think that you are doing this little project to get in one more good shot," she said, pulling back the covers of the bed and exchanging the pillows. "You know, 'I'll-show-Skinner-who's-the- psycho'. I know you're worried about me getting hurt, but I have to tell you, sweetheart, you have far better odds of a prolonged hospital stay than I do. And when push comes to shove, I want this little bundle," she patted her stomach "to have HER Daddy in one piece!" "So what is this? Tit for Tat? I'm overprotective of you, so you're going to be overprotective of me?" Mulder asked, ignoring for the moment his wife's constant reference to his son as if he would be a daughter. He climbed into bed and kicked viciously at the sheet so the bottom came untucked. Dana snuggled in as close as she could. "If I remember correctly, that's how we managed to stay alive for all that time," she whispered. J. Edgar Hoover Building FBI Headquarters, Washington, DC January 8, 1996 8:30 am "Here I had forgotten the joys of DC commuting," Mulder growled as he pulled the rental car into the parking lot. Absently, he headed for the garage entrance, but Dana's hand on his arm reminded him, and he steered into one of the Visitors slots on the ground level. She watched him closely. "I'm fine, Scully, ah, Dana," he corrected himself. "This is like a bad episode of The Twilight Zone," Scully commented, as they made their way to the front entrance. They stopped at the guard desk and picked up badges. Mulder stood for a second and looked down at the plastic in his hand. Scully reached over, took it from him and clipped it to his lapel. "I always hated the pictures they had on the other ones, anyway," she smiled up at him. He made a half-hearted attempt to smile back. They made their way up to the sixth floor. It was the first time Mulder had been on the floor since the day over 8 months ago when he had slugged Skinner in the hall. It wasn't a pleasant memory. As they stepped off the elevator, they both stopped short and surveyed the 'pullbit'. Over twenty agents, all busied themselves and milled around. Upon noticing the two observers, activity ground to a halt and all conversation stopped. It was an incredibly tense moment in a place used to tension. "And they say you can't go home again," Mulder whispered to Scully as they both took deep breaths and forged ahead. "You watch my back, I'll watch your front," he grinned devilishly. "You are always watching my front, lover boy! But I must admit, your back has a nice view!" she whispered back. He smiled broadly and suddenly, all the tension they had felt evaporated. They confidently walked together toward Skinner. It was like old times, both facing a common foe. But somehow, their bond was even stronger now, and inside, they both felt invincible. The Assistant Director had heard the silence out in the pullbit and stepped out of his office. He stared ahead at the two agents, correction, former agents, as they all but marched toward him. he thought. He stepped aside and let the visitors into the office. They were greeted by two agents, sitting on the chairs that traditionally faced the AD's desk. "Dr. Scully, 'Dr.' Mulder, this is Agents LaMont and Morphew. They have been assigned to this case. I hope you had a chance to review the file I left you?" Skinner said, not expecting anything but a positive answer while he settled himself behind his desk. Scully stared hard at LaMont. He was tall, easily matching Mulder's height, but just a little stockier, like a football player. He had sandy hair, which would have been bushy, if it had been longer than Bureau Standard. His face was pure boyish charm. She remembered him as a student while she was teaching at Quantico. She had a brief flash of him fainting during one of the first classes on proper autopsy procedure. She just barely stifled a grin. Morphew didn't ring any bells. Both agents stood up and shook hands. "I've read several of your profiles, Dr. Mulder. It's a pleasure to be working with you," Angela Morphew said, taking his hand and looking into his eyes. She was tall, a brunette, slim like a model, with an oval face and very inviting eyes. Mulder blinked twice. his mind wandered, until his very observant wife nudged him gently in the side. "So, how long have you been with the Bureau, Agent Morphew?" he asked, to hide his stare. "I just graduated, sir. This is my first assignment," she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. Scully looked over at LaMont. "Brad LaMont, right? I remember you from forensics class at the Academy," she said, letting him know what memory had come to mind. LaMont blushed bright red. "I've managed to avoid passing out on any of my cases, Dr. Scully. But it's nice to see you again," he added. This time it was Mulder's elbow in Scully's ribs. "Now that we all know each other, I suggest you four get working. Dr. Mulder and Dr. Scully are being paid by the hour, so let's not waste their time." He looked up and gazed at Mulder. "I think you can still find your way to the basement, can't you Dr. Mulder. The old X files office is available for you to use for the time you are with us. Let me know if you need anything else," he said, reaching for a file folder in the corner of his desk. "That will be all," he said, dismissing all of them at once. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Dana asked as she saw Fox' face at the mention of the basement. "It's not like I'm attending my ex-wife's wedding, Dana! I'm fine," he said, finding enough smile to assure her. "You will never know what it's like to attend your ex-wife's wedding, Cave man," she purred in his ear, just out of hearing of the two other agents. She had seen the looks Agent Morphew had been giving her husband and was feeling particularly territorial. Besides which, it was the first time she had ever been able to walk these halls arm in arm with her husband of just 8 months, but partner for far longer. She was enjoying all the looks being shot their way. It wasn't so bad, after all. The elevator ride was quiet, with Mulder's grip on Scully's hand growing tighter as the floors passed by. When the doors finally opened, she had to change hands with a grimace. He smiled apologetically and she waited until the others were ahead before pulling him down for a quick kiss. "No matter how bad this is, I still love you and I am still here, OK?" she assured him. "I'm counting on just that. That, and what I intend to do with you in that in-room spa, back at the hotel," he said, a leering smile masking his discomfort. The room was almost vacant. Only the two desks remained of what had once been his life. He glanced at the walls, expecting to find his bulletin boards and posters. he chided himself. It really was like a bad episode from The Twilight Zone. <"Submitted for your consideration, Fox Mulder. Formerly a renown Special Agent for the FBI, suddenly confronted with the ruins of his once proud career. A career that existed. . .only in the Twilight Zone!"> he faintly hummed the theme song and didn't realize it until Scully shot him a curious look. "God, this place is dusty," grumbled LaMont, as he swiped at the desk that was once covered with UFO sightings and eye-witness reports of alien abductions. He pulled out the chair and Mulder jolted forward. "Careful how you. . ." the words hung in the air as LaMont slid off the chair and on to the floor. ". . .sit. Sorry, Brad, that chair is kind of tricky," Mulder apologized as he reached down and helped the younger agent to his feet. "Geez, Dr. Mulder, did you booby trap this place before you left?" LaMont asked, painfully rubbing his back and seat. Dana was standing by her old desk and was laughing so hard tears were forming on her lashes. When she was finally able to get enough air to speak, she gasped, "That was just what I needed! Do you remember how many times you requested a new chair, sweetheart?" "Fourteen times, each denied," he answered shaking his head at the still offending office equipment. "Let's sit on the desk. It's safer." After the initial shock of familiar surroundings now very unfamiliar subsided, the four soon got down to the meat of the case. Mulder had done a quick and dirty profile based solely on the information in the file folder he had been given. LaMont added new information obtained from more people at the last two crime scenes and the victims families. Before long, LaMont was frantically scribbling new questions and lines of inquiry in his notebook while Fox Mulder, The Teacher, paced the room and shot him suggestions, his tie loose and his jacket discarded on the hated chair. At the other end of the room, Scully and Morphew poured over the autopsy reports and the pictures of the victims taken at the crime scenes. Finally, Scully stood up and rolled her shoulders and patted her stomach. "Well, it's almost 2:00 and my little bundle is telling me that we need food. How about we break for lunch? I've been dreaming of Tony's Pizza for two nights now and they shouldn't be that busy at this hour of the afternoon," Scully said, taking her husband's jacket off the chair and holding it out for him. Morphew and LaMont eyed each other. The Mulders pregnancy was an added piece to the puzzle that had been the topic of conversation for the last 24 hours in the Bureau cafeteria. "Ah, actually, we play racquetball on our lunch hour. But you two go ahead. We'll all meet up back here at, say 3:00?" LaMont suggested. It was cold and a light sprinkling of snow was falling as Fox and Dana stepped out of the building. They walked in silence, holding hands for a couple of blocks, until the wind threatened Dana's scarf and Fox pulled her closer, enclosing her in the folds of his overcoat. "Can't let my baby catch pneumonia back here in the wicked East," he joked. She laughed, but he knew it was not at his humor. "What is it?" he asked. "Those two back there. Was I ever that green?" she asked, still chuckling. "You, my love, were greener," he said, then feeling her glare he added, "for all of ten minutes. But you caught on fast. I'm not so convinced that either Agent LaMont or Agent Morphew is going to be so quick." "You sound worried," she observed. "Yes, I guess I am. I think by tonight we will have done all we can here in DC. The last two murders occurred in Missouri, just outside of St. Louis. I think we may have to take this show on the road to get to the bottom of it all. And I'm not too keen on going into the field with a couple of 'wet behind the ears' newbies on our hands. You are supposed to take it easy, I don't want you taking up the slack for Morphew. As for LaMont, I really don't relish the thought of him watching my back. He can't even sit in a chair without ending up on the floor," he pointed out glumly. "I don't remember anything in the contract about hand holding and investigations in the field," Dana reminded him quietly. "Yeah, but do they still pay us if we don't solve this case? That's the trouble with the private sector, they expect something for their money!" he said, smiling down at her. "We could request two other agents," she suggested. "Somebody we know, with more experience. . ." "And then we have to worry about getting shot in the back," Mulder quipped. "I can't think of a single agent in the whole Bureau that I would trust. We never trusted them, remember? No, I think we are stuck with Laurel and Hardy for the duration. Hopefully, Skinner didn't give them to us to 'set us up'." They had reached the pizza parlor and found seats easily. Scully placed their order and settled back, looking at her husband. "What do you mean 'set us up'?" she asked. "Well, I really didn't want to mention it, but the thought has occurred to me that this could be an elaborate set up. I mean, face it Dana. We haven't stopped looking. Our contacts with NICAP and MUFON, not to mention the access to SETI research and data is actually stronger than it used to be, back in the days when we had to deal with liver eating mutants and flukemen all the time. Maybe the Forces of Darkness aren't satisfied with us being drummed out of the Bureau with our swords broken. Maybe they've decided that we need to meet with an untimely death because we stuck our heads out a little too far again." He picked up his straw and unwrapped it. Scully shuttered. "Thank you, sweetheart. Now I know I'll sleep soundly tonight," she grumbled at him. He reached over and took her hand. "Hey, this is what we both missed, remember? The paranoia was as much a part of it as the glamour. But it's pretty far fetched, even I have to admit. If they really wanted to get us, they would have made a nice tidy accident happen back home, like a faulty brake line or the likes." He kissed her palm. "Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have mentioned it. I should learn to keep my paranoia to myself," he scolded himself. Scully pulled his hand over to her mouth and kissed it in turn. "The minute you do, Fox Mulder, I dig out my old service weapon and shoot you where you stand! Don't ever hide your thoughts, your feelings or anything else from me, you hear." The pizza appeared, smelling just as wonderful as she had remembered it. "Now eat. We don't have my refrigerator to put the leftovers in and I'm counting on your appetite to finish this off. Dig in!" she ordered. They returned to the Hoover Building and found LaMont and Morphew in the basement office. The only indication that they had actually played racquetball was the fact that Morphew's hair was still a little damp. Everyone quickly dug in and got back to work. They worked steadily until 6:00 when Mulder declared that they had gone as far as they could on the evidence and information they had. It was agreed that they would leave for St. Louis in the morning. Dana gratefully left the travel arrangements up to Angela and followed Fox to the elevator. "I didn't get my nap!" she complained, leaning against him in the elevator and almost falling asleep in that position. "I'll let you catch some z's while I do some more work. But then, it's bubble bath time, young lady," he leered. "Work? I thought we were at an impasse," she yawned sleepily. "WE are at an impasse. I still have some ideas, but I don't think the kiddies are ready for them." He noted her grim expression. "Don't worry. I will not go running off on my own. That's for single guys who don't have lives or wives or babies on the way. I am reformed, Dana, I swear!" He held up his right hand in the Boy Scout hand signal. "Well, just to make sure, I sleep with the car keys, Mr. Reformed!" she sneered. "The Washington Hilton! God, Fox, do you realize how often I dreamed that we could stay in a hotel like this when we were on an assignment?" she sighed, kicking off her shoes and skidding to a stop on the bed. "Yeah. And the best part is the hemorrhage Skinner is going to have when he gets the bill. Tonight, my sweet, sweet Dana, we are going to order room service! Now, you get some rest," he said, pulling the bedspread over her, but stopping long enough to kiss her stomach "Night, night, baby. Daddy loves you," he murmured softly. Then he reached up and kissed his wife on the lips. "Sleep tight." He went over to the cherry desk and noticed that she was asleep in a matter of seconds. He pulled the now all too familiar file out of his briefcase and flipped it open. Dana awoke to the sound of a knock on the door. Sleepily, she watched Fox answer it and step aside as a waiter pushed a white table clothed dining cart into the room, set with two covered plates, water glasses, wine glasses and a bottle of something on ice. In the middle of the service was a single red rose in a silver vase. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "Fox, I think I hear the national debt doubling," she muttered, throwing off her cover and sitting in the chair he had pulled up for her. "Funny you should mention it, but it really doesn't cost that much. We're probably saving the Bureau big time, considering I was thinking of taking you to Rive Gauche before I decided on a quiet dinner here." He pulled the bottle out of the chiller. "Ah, Sparkling Apple Cider, vintage 1995. I hear it was a very good year for apples," he said, in his best husky voice as he poured them both glasses. She smiled from ear to ear. "A toast. To the past, which we have left behind, to the present, which I for one am thoroughly enjoying, and to the future, which I can not wait to see, as long as I'm with you," he said and looked deeply into her eyes. "I love you, Dana," he sighed and drank his cider. "I love you, Fox," she sighed in return. She drank her cider, appreciating the gesture more than actual aperitif. After a minute or two of silence she reached across the table and took his hand. "I'm sorry we had to go through hell and back to get to where we are, but I think the journey has made us stronger. And as long as I was with you, I wouldn't have missed it for the world." , Dana moaned to herself as she slid out from beneath the warm covers and across the chilly room to the bathroom. She was just coming out again, when Fox sat straight up in bed and let out scream. she thought as she hurried the few steps to the bed and took him in her arms. "Shhh, Fox, it's all right. I'm here. Dana is here. Wake up, baby. It's only a dream. Come on, wake up," she prodded him in a soft and gentle voice. Slowly his eyes focused on her rather than the wall behind her and he blinked a couple of times. The tears that were streaming down his face slowed and he gulped in some deep breaths, as if they were the first he had had in a while. "The Baby! Where's the baby?" he demanded, his voice still shaking. She took his hand and rested it against her stomach. "The baby's right here, sweetheart. And that's where she will be until July sometime. What was the dream about? Was it something about the baby?" she asked as he pulled away from her and padded off to the bathroom. She followed him and sat on the edge of the oversized tub while he washed his face and drank a glass of water in one gulp. Finally he looked at her from the mirror. "They took her. She was only a few days old, Dana. God, she was beautiful, red haired, blue eyed, the sweetest face I've ever seen. They came in the night, bright lights, everything. They took her and all I could do was scream." He closed his eyes against the visions still coming and dragged himself back to the bedroom. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the remote like a lifeline, flipping channels with no sound. She crawled into bed next to him. "This case is bringing all this up, you know," she said quietly. He said nothing, but she knew he had heard her. "Maybe this wasn't the best idea in the world. Coming back, I mean." "It'll be over soon," he mumbled. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. There's nothing you can do for me right now that you can't do asleep." She snuggled into him as close as she could and put her hand on his hip. For once, she didn't argue, but fell back asleep. Flight 853 Dullas International to Lambert Field, St. Louis Janaury 9, 1996 10:13 am CST Dana looked up the aisle and could just make out Fox' elbow in the front row. She wasn't real happy about being in separate aisles, but when the front row was available, it only seemed right to give the seats to the ones with the longest legs. While they were partners, Dana never gave it a second thought. Now, she missed even this short time to talk to him. So much was happening--so many emotions were surfacing that both of them had thought long buried. she cursed silently. Angela had finished the inflight magazine and was looking out the window. Finally, she turned to Dana, who was studying the ice melting in her glass of ginger ale. "I'm not much of a morning person, I'm afraid," Angela said apologetically. "Last night I was really looking forward to this trip. There are so many things I wanted to ask you." "Well, we're a ways from St. Louis. Ask away," Dana offered, although a little prick in the back of her mind gave off warning signals. "I was wondering. . .did they treat you different. The other agents, I mean. Oh, I know they treated you different once you started working with Spo. . .ah, Dr. Mulder. But before that." She was playing with her napkin, a little embarrassed. "You mean, because I was a woman?" Dana asked, ignoring for the time the slam at her husband. "Yes!" Angela exclaimed. "The other agents, and the upper management levels!" Dana took a few minutes to organize her thoughts. "At first, I guess I didn't really let myself realize it. I mean, I had fought that particular battle all the way through medical school. There aren't nearly as many women in med school as there are men, and most of them tend to gravitate to the traditional fields of obstetrics and pediatrics. A woman in pathology, in forensics, that is almost unheard of. I took a lot of crap because of it!" She picked up her drink and sipped at it thoughtfully. "I was really excited when I was recruited into the Bureau. I thought I had really made the grade, you know?" she looked at Angela, who smiled and nodded. "But I did notice a difference. There were whispers, always behind the back. And looks, especially when I gave an opinion different from the assembled males. The 'what does she know, she's a girl' look from seventh grade. I was really beginning to hate it." Angela smirked and nodded again. "And then, I was assigned to the X files. I couldn't decide if it was a promotion or a demotion. I had heard all the rumors. Fox never made an effort to quell the rumor mill, in fact, he took pleasure in adding fuel to the fires. So, I was a little upset at first. And he did absolutely nothing to set my mind at ease. As a matter of fact, I think he went out of his way to act crazier around me, just to see if he could scare me off. But I didn't scare. And I think that actually scared him!" She laughed and Angela did, too. "So we went to work. And after two or three cases, I noticed an end to the crazy act. Then, I noticed that he was actually depending on my opinion, waiting on my autopsy findings before proceeding with a particular line of investigation. And then, he started the phone calls." "Phone calls?" Angela asked, a little too intrigued. "Oh, not like 'Naughty Congressman and Underage Congressional Page' phone calls," Dana quickly assured her. "No, see Fox never quits working. Even when he goes home, his mind still works on the case. Late into the night, his little gears are still twirling on getting the pieces of the puzzle to fit. So he would get to a point in his thought processes when he wanted outside imput, and my number was the first one on his speed dial. 2 o'clock, 4 o'clock, it didn't matter to him, he called and would start tossing ideas at me. I thought about changing my number, but then, I realized, he depended on me! I was suddenly his equal, even though technically he was my superior and years more experienced than I was. And that realization floored me." "Is that when you started sleeping together?" Angela asked innocently. Dana choked! "Is that what the grapevine says? Angela, let me set the record straight: the first time I 'slept' with Fox Mulder was on our wedding night! And I had to be damn careful, because he was still wearing the bandages from the fire that almost killed him! All the time we were partners at the Bureau, we never did anything more intimate than hug! We kept ourselves very professional, at all times!" Dana realized she was speaking just a little too loud when she saw Fox turn around and shoot her a questioning look. She shrugged him off and settled back down, speaking in a much lower tone. "I know how it looked to some. I know what they thought. If he treated me like an equal, he must be 'getting some'! But believe me, Angela, it never happened." "But you got married the day you left the Bureau! I mean, everyone assumed. . ." Angela stammered. "Fox likes to quote his old high school teacher who used to say "when you assume you make an ass out of you and me"! That about sums up the quality of rational thought at the Hoover Building cafeteria." Angela looked seriously apologetic. "Dana, I'm sorry! I never meant. . ." "No, Angela, no, I'm sorry. You only know what you've been told. As for when we got married, well, that's sort of hard to understand unless you've been a partner. See, we never made love, not in a physical sense, until our wedding night. But I knew everything there was to know about Fox Mulder! I knew that he hates herbal tea, that he likes his eggs sunnyside up and runny, that he has to run at least 5 miles every day or he goes into endorphin withdrawal. I knew that he would stay up all night to watch _Battlestar Galactica_, but never sat through an entire episode of _Deep Space Nine_. I knew that his father. . ." she stopped short of continuing. "Let's just say I knew things about him that I doubt he would admit to knowing about himself. And I loved him, deeply. I could not imagine life without him. I was faced with that possibility more times than I could ever have imagined and I didn't want to risk losing him again." "Weren't you afraid you'd get married and. . .well, it wouldn't work out?" Angela asked, still a little hesitant. Dana closed her eyes and smiled. "I was a little scared. I think we both were. But we were all we had. The Bureau. . .well, that door had closed and been locked behind us. We had very little idea of what our futures would be like. We had trusted each other so exclusively for so long. . .we just couldn't stop, I guess. So, we picked ourselves up and started building a life--together. It's been more than I could have hoped for." She looked down at her stomach and rubbed it affectionately. "And when I found out at Thanksgiving that we were about to become The Three of Us, well, it's hard to top perfection, but I think we did it!" Her smile was so bright, she glowed. It was infectious, Angela smiled back. "You are _very_ lucky, Dr. Scully! I doubt I'll ever feel that way about a partner," she lost a little of the smile as she stared out the window. "Hey, give Brad a chance," Dana said with confidence. "You can never tell about these things. You get to where you watch their back more than you watch your own. . .and you wake up and realize you've got something special. It happens, in the most unlikely of cases!" Up in the front of the plane, Brad LaMont was giving the notes he had taken a good once over. Mulder had dozed off early in the flight, in part because he had really only gotten about four hours of sleep and in part because he had long ago discovered that trying to read on an airplane only aggravated his mild motion sickness. He awoke only when his wife's voice grew steadily louder in his ears and he was sure he had overslept and was late for his first class. Brad saw Mulder wake up and turn to look at Scully. He immediately jumped on the opportunity. "Dr. Mulder, about this question. . ." he started and Mulder shot him a disdaining look. "LaMont, if you don't stop calling me Dr. Mulder, I'm going to flunk you in this course," he smiled. Brad sputtered and then slowly let the joke settle in his mind. "What should I call you, then?" he asked, not quite sure how to proceed. "Mulder would be nice. Hell, at this point, I'll even take Spooky! But I've had all the Doctoring I can take for a while. I'm sorry I ever started it with Skinner, but it was just to get a leg up on the bastard. I really didn't expect it to stick." He rolled his shoulders and shifted in his seat. "So what's the question?" Brad looked a little embarrassed. "Do you think the family members will take me seriously if I ask about any history of UFO sightings? I mean, it sounds sort of. . .well, out there, if you know what I mean." "LaMont, I'm not trying to be difficult here. But like I told you yesterday, and like I wish I could have shown you if I had access to my old files, there is strong evidence here that suggests alien involvement. That doesn't mean it's what we'll actually find, mind you! It just means that we better at least look in that direction or we'll risk missing important clues." Mulder sat back and watched LaMont face intently, judging his reaction. LaMont chewed on his lip a minute. Then, slowly he looked over at Mulder. "So you aren't saying this is automatically UFO related, just that we should explore all avenues?" he asked, confusion slowly turning to understanding. "Exactly!" Mulder crowed triumphantly. "See, LaMont, I'm not as crazy as I've been portrayed. It's just that often, when we only ask conventional questions, we only get conventional answers. And sometimes, those aren't the ones that solve the case." "But when you ask the unconventional questions, don't you risk not being taken seriously?" Brad asked. "But if you uncover the truth, does it really matter?" Mulder asked. He looked at LaMont' face and saw that, yes, to the younger agent, it probably did. Mulder sighed. He turned around again and saw Dana still deep in conversation, but with a hugh smile on her face. She looked up and caught his eye. "I love you" he mouthed silently. "You better", she mouthed silently in return and giggled as she turned back to continue talking to Angela. He turned around to face front, his previous dismay replaced by an overwhelming feeling of contentment. St. Louis, MO January 9, 1996 11:45 CST The foursome finally caught up with each other at the waiting area after exiting the plane. Mulder took a moment to give Scully a quick hug, then turned around when he heard his name being called. In the crowd of people meeting the passengers was a familiar face. Jeff Andrews and Fox Mulder had gone through the Academy together, worked under Reggie Purdue in Violent Crimes together and then had gone separate ways. Jeff was a SAC, Special Agent in Charge in the St. Louis Bureau office. Even though they had followed different paths, the two still considered each other friends, or had before the incidents which had led to Mulder leaving the Bureau. Jeff had tried unsuccessfully to help Mulder, but his assistance was quietly and politely refused. It hurt Andrews to be rebuffed in his efforts, but he had eventually accepted his friend's decision. So it was with great anticipation that Andrews waited for his friend. "Mulder, you old son of a . . ." Andrews voice boomed across the heads of the other passengers. "Andrews, don't you _ever_ shut up?" Mulder bellowed back and walked over to embrace the other agent in a bear hug. He turned back and motioned for the others to follow. "Jeff Andrews, SAC, this is Agent Brad LaMont and Agent Angela Morphew and this is my wife, Dr. Dana Scully. Andrews shook hands with the two agents and turned his attention to Dana. "Well, I guess I can see why you didn't want my help getting reinstated, old buddy. I don't think I would want to be separated from this one for too long, either." He smiled charmingly at Scully, who recognized him for what he was--a slightly aging college freshman in a nice suit. On the way to the office, Andrews filled the group in on the St. Louis office's involvement in the murders. The local police had called almost immediately after the bodies had been found. Due to the news reports of the victims in other states, Iowa, Arkansas and Nebraska, respectively, the St. Clair County Sheriff knew he was in over his head. "We have the bodies on ice at the office, Dr. Scully. I was told you might want to give them the once over. I can drop you off, and then I'll take you other three out to the crime scenes. It's been a few days, but knowing you, Spooky, you'll sniff up something," he looked over at his friend and smiled brightly. "Hey, it's good to have you back!" he added in a quiet aside. "I hate to disappoint you, Jeff, but I'm not 'back'. This is a one night stand, guy. As soon as it's over, I slip back into my corduroy jacket with the leather patches and become the absent minded professor again." He knew that wasn't what Andrews wanted to hear, but he couldn't lead his friend on, either. It was better to be up front about it. "Yeah, right, Mulder. And I bet you've stopped eating sunflower seeds, too," Andrews snorted, turning his attention back to the snow covered highway. They had left Dana off and were making their way out to the crime scenes. The bodies had been found some 100 yard from a frontage road, in a wooded area just outside the I 270 beltway around the western outskirts of the city. Both women, stripped of all clothing, and most of their skin, they had been discovered by a young couple snowmobiling through the woods. The ME report listed the probable time of death at just over three days before discovery. From the lack of blood at the scene, it was determined that the women were murdered elsewhere and dumped in the woods. Mulder took little time getting to work. There had been a thaw just before the bodies were found, and then a quick freeze, thus leaving a perfect impression of each body in the frozen mud and snow. He frowned, since the snow had covered the bodies, meaning that any footprints would have been left during a cold snap and thus, were lost to them. Still he took his time and carefully surveyed every crack and crevice in the small clearing between old pine and oak trees. LaMont and Morphew shifted back and forth and stomped their feet, trying to keep warm. Andrews lounged against the minivan he had picked them up at the airport in. He had become accustomed to the midwestern winters, but more importantly, he knew Mulder and he knew this would be a painstaking endeavor. It was better just to be patient and let the man work. Jeff reminded himself wryly. Only Mulder could get himself kicked out of the Bureau in April and come back making twice as much consulting in January! Finally, Mulder returned to the car and opened the door to get in. The others followed suit silently. Once in the car, with the heater on full blast, LaMont could no longer hold his tongue. "So what do you make of it?" he asked. "Nice trees, great picnic site, but not a clue to be found. However, it's apparent that whoever did this was either very strong or those women were teleported to that sight," Mulder said, rubbing and blowing on his hands to get them warmed up. "What makes you say that?" Morphew asked. "They were carried and dumped there. This road is at least 100 yards. They weren't dragged, they weren't pulled on a sled. They were carried." "Or 'teleported'," Jeff added with a wicked grin. "'Beam me up, Scottie!' Let's get back, I'm starved," Mulder said with a relaxed smile, but soon was staring out at the barren snowfields as they passed, lost in thought. St. Louis Bureau office of the FBI 4:25 pm Dana thought. She had gone over the lab results countless times already, but she just was not ready to accept the findings. She had taken new samples and run them herself and still the little 'buggers', as she was affectionately calling them in her mind, were there. She sat back on the stool and stared off into space for a moment. She had hoped she would never see that particular virus staring up at her from a microscope again as long as she lived. Too many memories of that time crashed through her. The frantic search for Fox' whereabouts, the confrontation with the dark, bearded man known only as X , she mused. AD Skinner showing up at Fox' door, bloody, handing her a slip of white paper--Fox' reprieve or her death sentence--it all depended on how fast she could make it to Dead Horse, Alaska. And once she was there, and they had Fox in the ER, the fight continued as she had to battle her own colleagues for the chance to save his life! The doctors at the base had no idea of what they were dealing with. They saw hypothermia as the enemy, she saw it as a savior. In her mind, the scream of the heart monitor replayed, again and again, each time seeming like an eternity before Dr. Jacobs finally let her near Fox, let her take over. She hadn't prayed that hard in a long, long time, as she placed the paddles once--no response-- twice, a faint pulse. Still, it meant he was alive for the moment. He had been dead and then he was alive. If she had been given a second to think about it, she would have crowed with delight! All she could allow herself, though, was a brush against his hair, a murmur in his ear, and then she was barking orders to the nurses, about transfusions, and antiviral drugs she had only read about in medical journals, they were so new. Oh, and of course, the wait, to see if any of the frantic efforts had paid off, to see if he really would stay with her. "Agent Scully," a voice from behind her called softly. She turned automatically at the name. "I'm not an Agent, anymore, Ms. Carson. Just plain old Dr. Scully," she corrected Jeff Andrews secretary. The woman was a saint, she had literally given the orders to everyone in the building that Dana receive full cooperation and carte blanche on anything she requested. Of course, the orders came from Jeff, but Ms. Carson had taken on the job of following those orders with particular zeal. Dana smiled to herself. Ms. Carson smiled, sort of sadly and nodded. "Agent Andrews just called. He said they were finished out at the crime scene and should be getting back to town in about a half hour. I thought you might want to know," she added. She gave Dana another smile and quietly closed the door behind her. All day Dana had been getting similar treatment. It was as if she were some sort of war hero, coming back to tour the troops. Surely, even out in the sticks, every field agent knew that the infamous team of Mulder and Scully had left the FBI. The only thing she wondered about was what kind of legends had grown up around them. They could have been branded traitors and cowards, but from the looks she was receiving and the way people were respectfully giving her the royal treatment, it was more likely that she and her husband were now the FBI equivalent of Paul Bunyan and Pecos Bill. she giggled to herself. Still, it was something she wanted to mention to Fox as soon as he returned. Maybe it would soften him up a little. Nightmares not withstanding, Dana had had a wonderful day! Oh, finding the retrovirus in the blood samples had been disturbing, but getting back into criminal forensics had been all she remembered and more. She had only missed going out to the crime scene with the other four. She had taken a short break, and imagined them out at the scene. Fox would be examining the ground, the trees, everything with the concentration of a blood hound. Morphew and LaMont would be standing, perplexed, trying to see what he was seeing. Andrews would take on her own role, that of observer, watching for breaks in his concentration, a look up, a call of 'Scully, come look at this', any indication that he had stumbled upon something. It was like watching the scientific method at work, the way he combed over a crime scene. And if he walked away silently, empty-handed, then everyone could rest assured that there had been nothing to find. she told herself as she shrugged off the lab coat and slipped back into the burgundy jacket. she resolved. They hadn't talked about it, yet, they had been sort of busy just getting to all the different destinations, but Dana had a hunch. They were on probation. If Cancerman really was in a grave somewhere, there was a chance that someone else in his place was offering them an olive branch. It would be a chance to come back to their old lives, move home to DC, pick up where they had left off. But it would also be very different this time. This time, she would only come back on her own terms. she chided herself. Then she went back down to Jeff's office to wait for Fox and the others. She didn't have long to wait. Jeff's half hour was actually closer to 15 minutes and she had just sat down when four slightly bedraggled people trudged through the door, still red-faced and shivering from the wind and cold. Fox didn't say a word, just slumped into the chair next to her, his legs outstretched, looking exhausted. "Take him and feed him, Dana. Better let LaMont drive. His blood sugar hit bottom somewhere on Forest Avenue and I didn't have a stash of seeds like I used to carry when I was around him," Jeff said sympathetically. "Oh, did you find anything," he remembered to ask, before they made their way out the door. "Just something to add to the confusion," she shot back over her shoulder. "Give us a little time to mull it over, I'll tell you tomorrow." "Don't you mean 'Mulder' it over," he laughed and waved them goodbye. "Are you OK," she whispered in Fox' ear as they made their way to the parking garage. Jeff had arranged for them to use a motor pool car while they were in St. Louis. Brad had the keys clutched possessively in his hand, searching the plates for the right vehicle and Angela looked too cold and tired to notice anything around her. "I'm just tired and hungry," Fox said, finally, in a voice that sounded too weak to be just a whisper for the benefit of his wife. "You didn't find anything," she reasoned. "Two hollowed out spots on the ground. No blood. . .NO blood! Dana, I think those women were frozen or something when they were dumped. There was not a drop of blood at the sight. It was too weird," he said tiredly. "I have something to tell you, but it can wait till we eat," she whispered, glancing back at Angela and Brad. Fox followed her look and nodded. More 'mature audience only' stuff the kiddies shouldn't be subjected to, yet, no doubt. Their motel was close to the airport, and actually fairly nice, compared to many of the places the Bureau had stuck them in. An Olive Garden Restaurante(tm) was next door and the foursome agreed it was closest and fastest, so after checking in, they walked across the parking lot and ordered. Mulder personally devoured a basket of bread sticks and two plates of salad before the main course was served, but by the time the check arrived, his color was better, his voice was stronger and he was talking animatedly about the old files and UFO involvement in previous cases. "You mean to tell me that you actually saw an alien!" Angela huffed in disbelief as Mulder told a very abbreviated version of the hunt for the Alien Bounty Hunter. "No, Morphew, I'm telling you I not only 'saw' it, the bastard tried real hard to kill me and I still have the scars and a shoulder that won't stay in place to prove it," he shot back. She shook her head and turned to Dana for substantiation. Dana smiled and nodded. "Not to mention, the blood work, the lab results, and a hospital bill totally close to the balance in Bill Gates checking account," she added, with a Mona Lisa smile. "Which the Bureau at first refused to cover, but finally caved in," Fox nodded, deep in thought. "It would have been a lot cheaper if I had just died on the ice, I guess," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. Dana took the joke for what it was and reached over and took his hand. "Cheaper, but who ever said 'fun' was cheap?" she smirked. He pulled her hand to his mouth and gave it a quick kiss. "Brad, I think you have the Bureau's credit card, don't you?" Fox asked, looking only at his wife. "We'll catch up with you two tomorrow, motel coffee shop, around 8:00." He ignored the groan from Angela and pulled Dana to her feet. The two walked back to the motel, hand in hand. Once in the room, with the door closed, Fox plopped down on the bed, kicked off his shoes and put his hands behind his head. "OK, I'm ready! What did you find?" he asked, patiently. Dana retrieved her briefcase and pulled a chair over next to the bed. She dug around and finally produced a file folder and flipped pages until she came to the one she wanted, then handed it to Fox. He took the folder and squinted at it. Dana sighed, went to get his glasses, and then he looked at it again. "My sweets, I know you think I'm brilliant and that all of this should make sense, but what the hell am I looking at?" he demanded in exasperation. "You're looking at the toxicological report," she said speaking slowly. "See anything out of the ordinary?" "All levels look normal. Of course, I skipped most of my chemistry classes to play rugby, but I don't see anything. . ." "Look down at the blood chemistry. Then think back. Where have we seen that before. . ." she gently prodded. She smiled as the realization hit him and he sat straight up on the bed. "Agent Weiss!" he exclaimed. "Oh my God, Dana, these women had their blood thickened. . ." "Just like Agent Weiss," she agreed, smiling. Her demeanor changed and she looked away. "And just like you," she added in a half-whisper. Mulder ignored her discomfort at the memories for the moment. "Do you know what this means, Dana? There has been alien involvement in this case! And the thickened blood would certainly explain the lack of blood at the sight! Have you looked at the other autopsies?" "I looked, but unfortunately, those murder victims were found in small rural areas. The ME's didn't bother looking beyond the obvious. In those cases, they did a quick and dirty tox and came up with nothing. It's winter out here, Mulder, they probably thought the thickening was because the blood had been in a frozen state when it dried or something. They didn't know what to look for. Fortunately for us, these bodies were still available to look at and we had the technology to get better results." She took the file and put it back in the briefcase. "And we had a pathologist who knew what she was doing," he added pointedly. "Well, my love, I think that little tidbit just earned us our fee." He reached over and pulled her on to the bed, shifting so that she was pressed against his side. "It's not over, yet, Cave man. We still have to find out 'why' these people were butchered. Somehow, I don't think 'alien meat shopping' is a valid cause of death anymore now than it was a year ago. And the cuts were made with some very earth-like substances. I found small filings from what could only be a straight-edged razor and definite signs of rope burns on the wrists and ankles. I don't think we can completely rule out 'human' involvement, anymore than we can completely substantiate 'alien' involvement." She sat up on the bed, legs crossed Indian fashion, waiting for him to rise to the bait. "If memory serves, Mr. Bounty Hunter used some particularly earth-like tools when he did his job. That little ice pick he used to pierce the base of the skull was probably union made. And my handcuffs, when he was bouncing me off the walls of the sub like so much silly putty," he said, the agitation showing in his voice. He curled himself from the bed and started to pace. "So you're thinking it's the bounty hunter again? But why? He eliminated all the Gregors! And these people were definitely humans, Mulder! They don't resemble each other, and they don't dissolve into green slime when killed. What reason could he have for coming back?" She was watching him pace like a caged tiger and it was giving her a headache. Absently, she reached over and pulled the folder out of her briefcase, glancing at it with half interest. Suddenly, something caught her attention. "Fox, look at this," she commanded. She had flipped pages and was checking one item on each page. He sighed and walked over, sitting down next to her on the bed. "What is it?" he asked, not really sure he wanted to know, especially if it shot more holes in his working theory. "Did you notice that all six of the victims have the same occupation?" she asked, somewhat smugly. He grabbed the file and flipped to the appropriate pages. "They all worked as medical technicians in hospitals," he said, the wheels turning in his mind as the pieces fell into place. "Dana, look at this, each of them has only been in the Midwest for a year, just since January and February of last year. And the previous addresses: Syracuse, New York, Trenton, New Jersey. . .Washington, DC!" He got up and reached over to the phone. "Who are you calling?" she asked, although she had a sneaking suspicion. "Danny, who else? He still owes me from last April. We need to find out where those people worked *before* they came out to the prairie. But I have a real good idea where it was. And it only serves to confirm my suspicions!" He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled brightly at her. She shook her head in amused disgust. He was able to get hold of Danny, even though it was already past 9:00 in Washington, and asked to have the information faxed to the St. Louis office first thing in the morning. He put the phone back on the nightstand and sat back down on the bed. "If I'm right, I want you on the next plane back to New Mexico," he said, fussing with the pillow and laying back down to stare at the ceiling. "You and what army?" she grunted. "If it is the bounty hunter, we BOTH take the first plane to New Mexico and leave this up to the people who get paid to get shot at, not just provide good theories!" she added, making her final point by stabbing her index finger into his chest. He caught her hand and held it, looking directly into her eyes. "I'm not kidding this time, Dana. And I won't take no for an answer. If the bounty hunter is trying to eliminate anyone with knowledge of the Gregors, you are in danger. You know that. You can identify him, in his usual manifestation. I want you as far away from this investigation as you can get, and Albuquerque seems just about far enough." "Fox Mulder! Listen to yourself! YOU are in as much danger, probably more so, than I am! You can identify him, too. You know what his weakness is! You shot him, damn it! If I go home, you go home. And I will not take no for an answer, either! Either we stay together or we leave together, but there is no other option!" She was staring at him with anger and hurt in her eyes. He pushed himself up from the bed and towered above her. "This is exactly why the Bureau does not want partners to be involved sexually, Scully! Godddam it, I will not see you put in this kind of danger! I told Skinner as much when he came to the house that night! We have a baby to think about, Dana! Or have you forgotten that! MY baby! I'm not going to let anything happen to him, her, whatever," he sputtered angrily. "Well, if this is YOUR baby, Fox Mulder, you can get up and go to the bathroom ten times tonight! And you can jolly well carry it around, sitting on your bladder, too! It is MY baby, too! And you are her, his, whatever's FATHER! I have no intention of becoming a single parent! You were there at the start of this life, you will be there through the rest of it, if I have to hold a gun to your head the entire time! So just quit this high horse shit right now!" She was actually standing on the bed, and was still only just a little over half a foot taller than him. "I can't talk to you when you get like this! You won't listen to reason!" he yelled, grabbing his coat and storming toward the door. "Don't you dare walk out on me, Mulder! I will hunt you down like a dog," she hissed, and he knew she meant every word of it. "Better go get Angela's gun, then, because you don't have yours with you," he growled over his shoulder and marched out into the subfreezing cold. He slammed the door shut behind him and she threw herself down on the bed and cried. Frontage Road off I-270 10:58 pm Mulder had no idea where he was. As usual, he had been too mad to look around and place any landmarks as he walked. He had his coat but it was pretty thin, and with no hat, his ears were just about frozen. he cursed. He shoved his hands down deeper into his pockets and heard the rip of the fabric as it tore. Bright lights, headlights, flashed in his eyes, blinding him for a second. He was far enough off the road not to be in danger, but this person seemed to be driving down the wrong lane, straight toward him. He was startled when the driver swerved and came to a stop just a few feet in front of him. With the glare of the headlights in his eyes, he couldn't see who was driving. Suddenly the lights were turned off, but they were still flash burned on his retinas and it took him some time before he could see again. "Mr. Mulder," the voice in the blackness crooned. "I would have expected you in bed, with your wife, at this hour." It took Mulder no time to recognize the voice. He had heard it all too many times before. It was the venerable Mr. X. "You're a long way from home, aren't you? Get lost? That Columbia exit on the BW Parkway is a real bitch in the winter," Mulder quipped. He really didn't want to deal with cloak and dagger stuff right now. He really didn't want to deal with it ever again. "By the looks of it, I would have to say that you are the one who is lost, Mr. Mulder. And in danger of frostbite, or am I mistaken?" "I've been colder than this, I can assure you," Mulder said dryly. "What do you want." "Have you figured out who is doing these murders, yet? I mean, it has been three days already," the dark man hissed. "So, it was you who took old Black Lung's place. I thought so," Mulder said with a grim smile. The other man merely bowed, slightly. "Yeah, I know who it is. Catching him will be another matter, though, I'm afraid. See, he can disguise himself as anyone! Why, for all I know, YOU could be HIM!" "Don't worry, Mr. Mulder. I would cut my wrist so you could see my red blood, but it's much too cold for that. I would just warn you, however, don't let your guard down. You are right to be concerned about your wife. Weak links are easily detected. As a matter of fact, you shouldn't have let your anger drive you away, tonight." A very cold chill ran down Mulder's back at his words and it had nothing to due with the weather. "What are you talking about!?" Mulder demanded. "What do you know?" "I know that the last time he was here, the alien did a very good impression of you. Very believable, actually. Of course, your partner, now your wife, was more wary then. She wasn't deceived. This time, well, emotion tends to cloud our judgment, doesn't it? I suggest you get back to your room, as fast as you can." He was already in his car and speeding away before Mulder had a chance to move. Through some inner directional needle that Mulder had never realized he possessed, he started running toward the motel. He didn't notice the cold sleet that had started to come down, but it caused him to slip and fall more than once. He thought about flagging down a driver, or searching for a phone, but his feet refused to stop running long enough for him to do either. He cursed the fact that he had given his cell phone back to the Bureau the day he resigned and that he had never thought it important enough to replace it. And in the back of his mind, he kept chanting a mantra, He ran for what seemed like hours, but it was only 30 minutes when he finally saw the motel sign above him. The wind and sleet were coming down so hard that he could barely see, but he plowed through to the side of the building their room was on. He slid to a stop in front of their door and started pounding on it as hard as he could. No answer! He swore loudly and fumbled in his pocket for the key, coming up with only a hole. More swearing. Then, he remembered that he had tucked the key in his pants pocket. Finally he retrieved it triumphantly and shoved it in the lock, turning the handle with enough force to jar the door open. Inside, the room was empty. He called out, but no one answered. He searched the area beside the bed, flung open the bathroom door and searched behind the shower curtain. No one. He forced himself to calm down and go over the room carefully. Everything was in place. Dana's briefcase was sitting beside the bed, the file folder tucked inside. The bed itself was slightly mussed, but no more than they had done themselves, just sitting on it. There were no broken objects, no sign of a struggle. With that realization he sat down on the edge of the bed and let his shoulders shake until the tears fell. "Fox Mulder, where the hell have you been!" Dana demanded as she slammed the door behind her and towered over his shaking body. He tried to gulp air, but he couldn't believe she was actually there. He reached out with all his might and almost strangled her in his embrace, burying his face in her stomach. "Fox, honey, what's the matter? Are you OK?" she asked, holding him as tightly as she could. Finally, she tried to break loose, he was hurting her with the strength of his grasp. "Oh God, Dana. . .I thought he had you . . .Mr. X said. . ." he stammered as he tried to calm down and breath normally before he passed out. He shook his head, let her go, a little, but still held her hands. "God, I am so sorry! I will never do that again! I swear on my Father's grave, Dana, I will never walk out on you again!" Now that he had let her move, she had a chance to apprise his condition. He was soaked to the skin, his ears were bright red and it looked like the early signs of frostbite on them and his hands. He was still shivering, but she had felt heat radiating from him while he held her. "Here. Get out of these wet clothes," she commanded, and then helped him pull off his overcoat and his shirt and tie. He struggled with his pants for a moment, forgetting in his relief to pull off his shoes and socks. She smiled a little at his predicament, and then reached down and pulled the shoes off for him. Finally, she pulled the cover down and made him lay back on the bed. "You are a block of ice," she scolded. She got up to get another blanket from the other double bed in the room, but he wouldn't let go of her hand. "Don't go," he pleaded. "Fox, I'm just going to get you the other blanket. You were out in that cold for over two hours. And it started to sleet. You've probably made yourself sick, you know," she said, sounding like her doctor persona. Finally, he let her go get the blanket, but only because he had started to get the chills and he was shaking badly. She tucked the blanket around him and went in the bathroom for a glass of water. As if by magic, two aspirin appeared in her hand and she handed them to him. He took them and finished off the water before handing the glass back to her. "Where were you?" he said weakly. "I got back and you were gone." " I got tired of waiting for you to come to your senses! I went down to Brad's room to get the car keys. I was going to go out looking for you and then I noticed the door to the room was standing open. What the hell were you doing, staying out that long on a night like this! It was the most pig-headed, stupid, blindly ignorant,. . .did I say stupid?" she sputtered in her anger and distress. It was obvious that she had been worried out of her mind, as well. Her face was still puffy and her eyes red from what must have been a long bout of tears. "Guilty, as charged. Hang me, now, I'll die a happy man. Just as long as you're safe," he sighed. The shaking started again and with it a nasty cough. "I knew it! You did make yourself sick! You'll probably get pneumonia and end up in the hospital again. We have a different insurance carrier now, Fox! I don't think they'll put up with you the way the government did!" she chided. "What were you blubbering about when I came in? Something about Mr. X?" He was finally getting warm and the aspirin was helping stop the triphammer in his head. His initial rush of adrenaline, and the 30 minute frantic run through the ice had sapped every ounce of strength he had. He was started to drift off to sleep. "Mr. X. He took Cancerman's place. He's the one who called for us," he said, yawning widely. She chewed on her lip as she digested that information. "Oh, gosh, that makes me feel 'sooo' much better," she deadpanned. "And who, exactly, did you think 'had me'? Mr. X?" she asked, still trying to understand his earlier ravings. "No, the bounty hunter. You're my weak link, Dana. . .Gotta. . get. . .you. . .home. . ." he said softly as his eyes closed and he slipped into sleep. She brushed the hair off his forehead, as she had done countless times before, and sighed deeply. "Oh, yeah, you're a much stronger link than I am, Spooky," she said, shaking her head in disdain. She leaned over and kissed him--he didn't make a move. They both had a pretty rough night. Mulder's fever spiked around 2:30 and Dana got very little sleep for the rest of the night, trying unsuccessfully to keep him comfortable. He was obviously dreaming of the bounty hunter, he kept talking to the alien, reliving the fight on board the submarine 35 feet under the ice in the Arctic Circle. It was the first time Dana had learned of the conversation they had had then, and now she was only getting Mulder's side of it, but it still caused her a great deal of worry. When he finally settled down into a deeper sleep, it was almost dawn. She tried to get a couple hours rest, but kept being disturbed by nightmares of her own encounter with the alien. She would close her eyes and see the alien, with Mulder's face, his body, at the door to her motel room, lifting her up against the wall like a rag doll and throwing her down on the table. Then, he would glare down at her and his face would change right before her eyes into the face of the alien, still a human face, but with little hint of humanity in it's eyes. Then she would wake up, startled, before she would try again to sleep. It still seemed dark outside when Dana rolled over and realized Fox was missing. For a fleeting moment she thought his returning the night before had been a dream, then she saw his clothes lying on the floor where they had left them when she finally got him into bed. She woke up enough to hear the shower running. She turned over to read the clock on the nightstand, it was 7:35 am. Wearily, she crawled out from under the warm blankets, feeling like she hadn't slept a wink. She knocked softly on the bathroom door and then walked in, not really expecting him to answer, just warning him of the opening door. Fox had just stepped out of the shower and a cloud of steam surrounded him. He smiled down at her, but she could tell his eyes were still too bright and he was very pale. "Get back in bed," she ordered. He stood there, blinked at her and reached past her for a towel. Then he headed out into the other room and searched through their luggage before finding their travel kit and getting out his razor. He went over to the big mirror and sink and proceeded to shave, ignoring her glares. "I said, get back to bed!" she repeated, with more force. "Dana, I really don't feel like playing search and seizure right now. We have work to do," he quipped and continued to shave himself. She stood just inches from him and stared at him in the mirror. "That is *not* what I meant, and you know it!" She reached around his quickly moving hand and put her palm against his forehead. "AHA! You still have a fever! Now, get back into bed! That is an order!" "I forgot to reenlist, Scully," he said, patting her on the head and going over to the suitcase to pull out his clothes. "If you're coming to breakfast, you better hurry. I told the kiddies to meet us at 8:00." She sat down on the bed, getting more frustrated with him by the second. "You are not going to work, today. You are sick," she tried to reason with him. "Fox, you have a fever and if you try to work, you'll only make it worse. You really WILL end up in the hospital, the rate you are going! You had me up half the night with your fever dreams!" He turned and finally looked at her, for the first time. She really did look like she had been up half the night. . .more than half, actually. "You're right, you look terrible. You stay here and get some sleep. We'll come pick you up at lunch time." "ARRGH!" she screamed in total exasperation! "What in the *world* did I do to deserve such an infuriating man in my life?!?" "Don't know, but it must have been pretty neato-keen!" he smiled and wiggled those eyebrows. "Oh, and don't let me in, not unless I have LaMont and Morphew with me. For that matter, don't let anybody in. I'll get Morphew to leave her weapon, she can grab a spare at the office. You still carry your permit, right?" She nodded, in disgust. He leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head. "Calm down, Red. I'm fine. We're interviewing people this morning and I have to get that fax Danny's sending. I promise, if I feel bad at lunch, I'll stay behind and go to bed like a good little patient. Scouts Honor!" He was back in half an hour, with Morphew and LaMont in tow. He had a blueberry muffin and a large cup of tea and was struggling to juggle both and find his keys when Dana opened the door and stepped out. She had showered and dressed and was looking pretty good, but he suspected that had a lot to do with her skill with make up and not the amount of rest she had gotten. He gave her a disapproving look as she took the muffin and tea from him. "Dana," he growled, about to embark on a rampage. "Don't start with me, Spooky, or this tea will be down your pants. We have a child on the way, I don't need you to procreate right now!" she hissed in his ear. He blushed bright red, but went no further in his tirade. He did, however, take the opportunity to mumble to himself all the way to the car, occasionally letting his voice rise loud enough for her to hear him disparaging the female sex and her specifically. Federal Building Downtown St. Louis, MO Janaury 10, 1995 9:00 am As soon as they got to the office, they split up, Morphew and LaMont taking the car and going out to interview the roommate of one of the victims and Scully and Mulder staying at the office to wait for the fax from DC. Jeff had given them a conference room to use and they had already acquired their own fax machine, a computer and printer and a clerical worker who insisted that she do all the running around to get them what they needed. "I've heard of Midwestern Hospitality, but isn't this getting carried a little too far," Mulder whispered to Scully as a pile of donuts and bagels magically appeared with a fresh pot of coffee. "I meant to tell you about it yesterday. Wait a few minutes and the 'fans' will start arriving," she whispered back, trying to look busy with her own lab reports, but watching the door, as well. "Fans?" he asked, and there was a knock on the door. Two agents, probably in their late twenties, stood looking slightly embarrassed. "Can we help you?" Mulder asked, polite, but confused. "I'm Agent Gallagher and this is my partner, Agent Scoggins. We, ah, we just wanted to say that it's really an honor to have you here in St. Louis with us, Dr. Mulder. If you need anything, back up, whatever, just ask for us." The two men smiled, shook his hand firmly, and left. "And I thought DC felt like The Twilight Zone!" Mulder breathed. "Dana, what was that all about?" he demanded. "Apparently, we are heroes, at least we are once you get out of the Washington Beltway. I don't know all the details, but an agent came in yesterday while I was doing the autopsies and asked for my autograph! I meant to tell you about it, but we spent the night arguing." "Jeff probably put them up to it," he said, brushing aside the mention of the night before. "I don't know, Fox. I think we have a fan club. Hey, just enjoy it, huh?" she smiled. The fax machine rang and she pulled the pages off one by one. "Danny?" Mulder asked, between bites of jelly donut. "Of course," she said handing him the sheets as she finished reading them. "Oh, and he put a note on the last page. He thinks Daniel or Danielle are perfect names for the baby." Mulder rolled his eyes as he took the pages. Then, he smiled as he read. "Gee whiz! Look at this! Every one of the victims used to work at one of the abortion clinics where the Gregors worked! "It _could_ be a coincidence," Dana pointed out, then added, "I know, I know! It's a pretty _wild_ coincidence!" She sat down on one of the conference room chairs and found it surprisingly comfortable. "This doesn't make me feel any better, you know." His initial rush at being proved right subsided as the realization of the facts hit him. "Believe it or not, me either," he sighed. "But now, we have to stop him, somehow." "How? Get the list of employees from all those clinics and put armed guards around them? Mulder, this guy can pass as anyone! And there were five clinics. There must have been over a hundred people working at all of them!" she shook her head in frustration. "So how come only 6 have turned up dead, Scully?" he asked, deep in thought. "You're right, there are plenty of people who are potential targets. But so far, all of the deaths have occurred in the Midwest, all within a relatively small area, actually. What's the connection? There had to be something else we're missing." He jumped up and pulled out the ever growing file, going through it to extract the pages on the victims. Looking up, he scratched his head. "Did I see employee lists from the clinics in those pages from Danny," he asked. Dana had been rereading the fax. "Yes, I was just marking the victims names and the Gregors aliases. Mulder," she stopped for a minute and stared at the page in her hand. "All the victims were lab assistants for the Gregors!" She flipped the pages as quickly as she could, finally circling some names. "These are the only ones left! These three people are the only ones who were lab assistants to the Gregors that have not been murdered!" She handed the pages over to Mulder for him to look at the names. "From the looks of it, I think we've found our next victims, unless we can get there first! I'm calling Danny, have him dig up the addresses on those last three and notify the local Bureaus to put surveillance on them," Mulder said, reaching for the phone. "He'll expect us to name the baby after him, you know," Dana teased. "So? I think Daniel is a great middle name. Samuel Daniel Mulder! It rings!" he deadpanned as she mimed sticking her finger down her throat and he tried not to laugh. "Hey, we could call him Sam Dan!" he said, punching numbers on the phone. By this time she was reduced to giggle fits. "You better start praying for a girl, Cave man," she gasped as she tried to catch her breath, then broke out in more giggles. "Sam Dan, indeed!" By lunch time, Danny had faxed the addresses of the three remaining lab assistants. One was in Trenton, New Jersey, where she worked for a nursing home, one was in Syracuse, New York, working at a health clinic and the last was in Baltimore, Maryland, where he was employed by the same abortion clinic that had been burned to the ground, but rebuilt in a different location. Brad and Angela arrived at the office, after spending the morning with Stacy Freeman, the roommate of one of the victims. "Did you find anything out?" Mulder asked, as they came in the door. Over breakfast, he and Brad had revised the list of questions, but Mulder had not told the younger agent why at the time. "Yeah, and it's funny. You asked me to find out if anyone had been by to see Gina before she disappeared. Apparently, an old boyfriend of hers showed up the night she was murdered. She hadn't seen him for some time. Stacy said they talked for a while and then she had to leave to go to work. The police originally thought he was the killer, but it turned out the guy had an airtight alibi. He's in the National Guard and he was at the Armory all weekend. Over 100 other guardsmen and several regular Army can vouch for him. He was questioned, but said he hadn't seen Gina since they broke up. What do you make of it?" Brad asked, looking up from his notes to see Mulder and Scully both nodding to each other. "I think it's time we had a little heart to heart talk," Mulder said slowly, "Brad, Angela, get comfortable. Dana, sweets, get Ms. Bell to sent out for sandwiches." And then he proceeded to tell them the unabridged version of the Gregors, the Alien Bounty Hunter and the suspected connection to the recent murders. The talk lasted better than an hour. He was just finishing up when the phone rang. Dana got up and answered it. "Fox," she interrupted. He looked over, curious. "It's Skinner. He wants to talk to you," she said quietly, handing him the phone. It was hard to determine the entire conversation, but from Mulder's responses and the looks on his face, it was not a pleasant experience! He repeated much of what he had just explained to Angela and Brad, trying several times to explain his theory on the murders, but getting interrupted by the man on the other end of the line. The frustration was growing on his face and in his voice, but to Dana's amazement, he was remaining in complete control of himself. she smiled inwardly. Finally, the conversation seemed to be drawing to a close. "Well, 'sir', I suggest, and admittedly you can take my advice or leave it, that you confer with the 'new' inhabitant of you office and see if he doesn't feel the way I do. . .Yes, I do know who it is. . Yes, I know you are probably no happier than you were with the last person. Truth told, I don't know that I am either, but we're stuck on this one, aren't we, sir. . .Thank you sir, I appreciate that . .Yes, we'll be heading out this afternoon. We'll check in when we arrive." He hung up the phone. Dana's mouth was gapping open. "Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming! Did I just hear Fox Mulder actually *thank* Walter Skinner--for anything?!" "He agreed to get surveillance on those two women and one man. I had to throw him some kind of bone," Mulder said, starting to stuff files in his briefcase. "Well, I think having to go back and reread all those psychology texts might have improved your clinical skills, Dr. Mulder," she teased. Even though both Brad and Angela were still in the room, she leaned over and kissed him. "And I am very proud of you," she added. This time, the partners sat together. Brad and Angela were still trying to understand half of what Mulder had told them about the Bounty Hunter, but Brad was beginning to come around to the idea. Having the Assistant Director agree to keep watch over Mulder's list of potential victims had a lot to do with his new acceptance. Angela was still shaking her head with disbelief and it took the better part of the flight back for Brad to get her to understand why they were leaving St. Louis, where a murder had already occurred, to go to Baltimore, where one hadn't. Once on the plane, the cold Mulder had come down with the night before caught up with him again. His head was stuffed and he had a blinding headache. Dana forced some aspirin down him, wishing she had carried some decongestant in her purse. He fell asleep shortly after take off. She had really wanted to talk to him, but her own exhaustion crept up on her and soon, they were both sound asleep, her head on his shoulder, his head leaning on hers. When they touched down at National, Skinner was waiting for them at the gate. Morphew and LaMont were a little taken back by the appearance of the Assistant Director, but Mulder and even Scully seemed to take it in stride. The AD directed the two younger agents toward the baggage claim area, while he lagged behind with the consultants. "I take it you've had a chat with our mutual friend?" Mulder asked when he was sure the kiddies were out of earshot. "He said to give you his regards," Skinner said coldly, "and he asked me to tell you to remember to wear a hat and gloves next time you're wandering Missouri in January." "Always good advice," Mulder said nodding. "So, what does he think of my theory?" "He seems interested. He convinced me it was not a waste of Bureau resources to protect these three people. Unfortunately, in the case of Michelle Alexander, we may have been too late. She didn't come home last night and she didn't show up at her job this morning. The Syracuse Bureau is working with the local police to find her." His face was set in a grim expression. "Alexander was in New York. What about Jennifer Howell, in New Jersey and Cliff Lidster in Baltimore?" Mulder asked, trying to keep the knot in his throat from sounding in his voice. If Alexander was missing, he was certain what had happened to her. That meant two things: his theory was correct, and the killer was still one jump ahead of them. "Howell is in a safe house in New Jersey. Apparently, the 9 people were still in contact with each other, or had been until the murders. She was pretty scared when the agents arrived at her door to question her. She asked for our protection. As for Lidster, he's been moved to DC and is waiting for you. Mulder, I know I gave you a hard time about your 'theory'. . ." "No need to apologize, sir," Mulder interrupted. "I wasn't going to apologize, Mulder! But I was going to say something I've wanted to say for a long time. It was not my decision to get rid of you two, I hope you know that. It seems like my job has come down to taking the X files away from you one minute and giving them back the next. Quite frankly, I thought I had better things to do with my career! Anyway, our dark acquaintance seems to think your reinstatement is a matter of national security. I came to the conclusion that it would at least save the Bureau some money if you were on the payroll again. Of course, our insurance carrier may have other thoughts on the matter. What I am trying to say is, the Bureau would like to reinstate you, both of you. Don't say anything right now, take some time to think about it. I know your lives are very different now, and you may not want your old lives back. There are a lot of details to work out, like your marriage, the baby, hell, everything I can think of needs to be worked out. But I want you to consider it." Dana looked up at her husband expectantly. He refused to meet her gaze, said nothing and kept walking. she sighed. Cliff Lidster was a chain smoker and very nervous. He knew full well what had happened to his associates, including the doctor he had worked with and he didn't want to end up the same way. Mulder sat across the table from him, with Skinner, Scully, Morphew and LaMont hidden behind a mirrored glass window on one wall of the interrogation room. "Mr. Lidster, do you recognize this man," Mulder asked calmly, shoving a picture of the doctor Mulder knew was a Gregor across the table for him to pick up. The nervous man looked down at the picture, closed his eyes in a grimace and nodded. "OK, how about any of these people? Do you recognize any of these people?" This time, 6 photos crossed the table, one at a time. Lidster acknowledged them each in the same way, a grimace of recognition and a nod. "How about this man?" Mulder asked, putting a composite picture drawn from his and Scully's descriptions of the Alien Bounty Hunter on the table. This time, Lidster stared hard at the picture, picking it up and holding it at a different angle to get a better look. "I don't know him, but I think I might have seen him. A few nights ago, someone who looked like this was outside the clinic. He was just walking by, not picketing or anything. I didn't really think that much about it, it was before I had heard of the others. . ." his voice trailed off and his hand shook as he dropped the sketch on the table top. "Mr. Lidster, I think we need to put you under protective custody. You'll be taken to a safe house, an agent will be with you at all times. We are fairly certain that the man you see in that sketch is responsible for the murders of 6 of your former associates and several others, including the good doctor. Can you tell me what you were working on while you assisted the doctor?" Mulder looked at him, not accusingly. He was hoping he would gain his trust. "They were . . .experiments. Genetics experiments. He said his research was connected with the University, but I couldn't figure out why he didn't have a lab there. I really wasn't involved in the actual work, I just assisted in the blood work, ran some tests. It was pretty routine, and I did it on the side, in addition to my other work at the clinic. I had no idea it would lead to. . ." he shot a glance over to the photos of the murder victims. "Don't worry, Mr. Lidster. The killing stops now. We have a safe house to take you to. I understand you have your belongings with you?" Mulder asked. Lidster nodded and pointed to a duffle bag by the door. "Then I'll take you to meet the agent who will be staying with you." He rose to leave but Lidster caught his arm. "Aren't you going to guard me?" he asked, taking another drag on his cigarette. "No, Mr. Lidster. I'm not an agent anymore, I only consult with the FBI, I don't really work here. Believe me, Mr. Lidster, you will be perfectly safe with the agent assigned to you. And I promise, we will find the murderer. We are very close, right now. Come on, Agent Biggs is waiting just down the hall to meet you." Mulder gave the man a reassuring smile and opened the door, motioning for him to lead the way. Lidster stood up slowly and started for the door, then quick as a wink, he grabbed Mulder by the neck and pulled out the ice pick like tool that the alien bounty hunter had used on the Gregors. "I should have finished the job in Alaska," Lidster hissed in Mulder's ear. Mulder twisted, trying to look Lidster in the face. He couldn't see him straight on, but the face was already changing into the face of the Bounty Hunter. Behind the glass window, Dana was reaching back on the waist band of her pantsuit, grabbing for a gun that wasn't there. Morphew and LaMont were too stunned to move for a moment, so Skinner grabbed LaMont's weapon and aimed to fire. Coming to her senses, Scully stopped his arm. "Too many people! His blood is toxic! If you don't hit him at the base of the neck, he won't be phased, but everyone near him will be dead--including Fox! We have to get behind him, without his knowledge. It's the only way to stop him." The Bounty Hunter had released Mulder's neck, but still had his hands in a tight grip behind him. The alien's strength was never in question, and Mulder knew that any resistance would be futile. His major concern at the moment was getting the alien out of the building. If anyone shot him, whole rooms full of people would be dead in a matter of minutes. Outside, in the cold Washington air, ("DC temperature is 15 degrees, winds out of the northeast at 10 mph, with a chance of snow by evening", the radio had said), then, he had a chance. Skinner ran down the hallway, grabbing the first phone he could find and barking orders into it. Scully, with Morphew and LaMont on her heels, ran for the elevators, knowing that Mulder and the Hunter were probably headed in that direction. The hall was fairly deserted, the interrogation rooms were all together on one floor and none of the other rooms were in use at the time. They met no one on their way. The elevators were inbetween hallways. Mulder and the Hunter were in the north hallway, Scully, Morphew and LaMont in the hallway on the south side of the building. Scully skidded to a stop just at the corner before the elevators. Angela and Brad smacked right into her, but she didn't fall. She pressed herself against the wall and peered around the corner, carefully. The Hunter had Mulder with his arms behind his back. Angela pushed her gun into Scully's hand, but from the angle Scully was at, the only shot she could make was frontal, probably through her husband. she cursed. Then, before her next breath, the elevator doors opened and the Hunter shoved Mulder inside, with the doors closing behind them. Scully cursed silently as she pulled open the fire escape and took the stairs down two at a time. She slipped once, and almost fell, but Angela was so close on her heels that she caught her and set her right again. They made it to the parking level in record time, but still behind the elevator. It was empty, with the door locked in the open position. Mulder and the Hunter got to the parking garage, which was deserted Mulder noted. The Hunter hadn't loosened his grip on Mulder's wrists and had jerked him sufficiently while guiding him out of the elevator that Mulder's shoulder was screaming. was the only outside thought Mulder would allow himself. The rest of his concentration was trained on how he was going to get the ice pick away from the Hunter and stab the base of his neck before anyone else got hurt. "Where's your car?" the Hunter demanded, pulling up on Mulder's wrist so that his shoulders were pulled out of socket and he groaned with pain. "Sorry, can't help you," Mulder said through clenched teeth. "I don't work here anymore. And I don't have a car here, either." The Hunter pulled up harder, just to show Mulder that was *not* an acceptable answer. "There's always the Metro," Mulder gasped again, then regretted the joke. Getting on the Subway was not a good plan and he should have kept his mouth shut. The Hunter pushed him forward, toward the ramp and out on to the Street. , Mulder thought. By some small miracle, there were no other cars on the street, not even a taxi. Snow had started falling softly and the sidewalks were covered. , Mulder thought grimly to himself. The slick surface of the sidewalk gave him an idea and he started working the details out in his mind as they walked toward the Metro station, some three blocks away. The parking garage was empty when Scully started searching. She almost screamed in frustration, then Brad looked at the ramp and noticed two sets of footsteps in the light spattering of snow, heading toward the street. "Dr. Scully, I think they went that way," he said excitedly, pointing toward the ramp. "Of course, the alien doesn't have a car and Mulder doesn't have keys. They must be heading for a cab," Scully answered and headed off in the same direction. "Or the Metro station," Angela suggested. "Oh God, I hope not!" Scully yelled back over her shoulder as she ran up the ramp and onto the street. Behind her, Scully heard Brad talking on his cell phone, presumably to Skinner. Then, she heard the sound that made her heart jump up into her throat and sink all the way down to her stomach. Sirens. A lot of sirens. Headed their way. she cursed again. Was the whole damn day going to be this screwed up? She ran faster up the ramp, glancing down every so often to check and see that the footprints were still going in her direction. Once on the street, Scully skidded to a stop. About a block and a half away, she saw the two tall figures, one in a blue jeans jacket and one in a gray suit, making their way toward the Metro station. She surveyed the surroundings, there were very few people out on the sidewalk. It was cold, the wind was blowing and the snow was falling pretty heavy now. she sighed. She ran to the end of the block, now putting half the distance between herself and the Hunter. She stood stock still, raised her gun, aimed until the back of the Hunters head was the only sight in her eyes and fired. Mulder heard the sirens and knew he had to do something fast. With a crowd, it would be even harder to get any kind of move on the Hunter. If he was going to do something, he had better get it done. He was taking a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, when he felt the impact! It pushed them both to the ground. The Hunter landed on top of him, green frothy liquid running down Mulder's neck and back. It burned, and Mulder's eyes burned and his mouth and his nose. was the last thought on his mind as he blacked out. Georgetown University Medical Center Washington, DC January 11, 1996 5:30 pm Mulder's first conscious thought was that it hurt to breathe. Gummy, like his lungs were filled with cotton and glue. He didn't open his eyes, they hurt. His shoulder hurt. Breathing in air hurt his nose and down his throat. His next conscious thought was He would have stayed that way indefinitely, eyes closed, breathing in little shallow breaths so the air going in didn't rub against the sores in his nose and mouth, but he heard her voice. Dana. His wife. She was whispering, something about IV's and antibiotics. The voice that was answering sounded familiar. Not welcome, just familiar. It took him a minute to place it. It was Skinner! Mulder heard the door open and then click shut. Good grief, he must be in trouble if Skinner was in his hospital room. Curiosity finally got the better of him and he slowly opened his eyes. "Dana," he wheezed. he thought. It took her an instant and she was at his side, holding his hand, smiling that great killer smile at him that made him want to grab and pull her under the covers and have his way with her right then and there. his mind grumbled. "Hey, sweetheart! How are you feeling?" Dana asked. One day, he was going to politely point out that every time she asked that particular question, he had felt like shit and she should have guessed that or he wouldn't have been in the hospital. This, however, was not the day. "What month is it?" he asked, deciding he wasn't even up to a really witty comeback right then. "It's January," she laughed softly. "What did you think?" "But the alien's blood. . .the retrovirus. . .I figured I had been out a month. . .like last time," he gasped. Talking was definitely not a fun activity. The more he did it, the harder it got. "Well, Cave man, it appears that you have antibodies to the virus now. There were no ill effects, apart from the caustic nature of the green goo. You were burned pretty badly on your neck and the fumes got your eyes and in your nose. Some ointment took care of most of that," she said as she brushed hair off his forehead. "Then why do I feel. . .this bad," he barely got the words out before he started into a coughing fit that reduced him to tears. "You have a serious case of bronchitis, my love! It was well on it's way to pneumonia. The paramedics were going to treat your burns at the scene, but you were out of it and your fever was 103. They decided to bring you in. You are on some heavy duty antibiotics for a few days, till your lungs clear up." She had that look on her face. The one that said, "I won't do it now, while your sick, but the minute you are feeling better I am going to say I told you so, so be prepared!" "So what. . .happened to. . .the alien ?" he managed to get out without coughing. "Seems I found the really fool-proof method of eliminating him." She waited for him to shoot her a "hurry up and tell me now" look. "I blew his head off. Base of the neck my butt! He didn't have a neck left, or an ear, or a face, or a. . ." "I get the picture,. . . my little blood thirsty one," he wheezed. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a second. Ten minutes later, he opened them again. "So what. . .about his ship?" "They located a big crater, in northeast Nebraska. He probably had it set to self-destruct," she reasoned. "Or Project Falcon. . .got there. . .first," he gasped back with a sullen expression. "Fox, it doesn't matter!" she said firmly. "All that matters is that he is dead and gone. He won't be back." "What about. . . Lidster,. . . Howell, . . . and Alexander?" Dana looked at the floor. "Their bodies were found. They were dead, but not mutilated like the others. He probably didn't have time to do the messy stuff. He may have been gathering samples, I don't know. He might have just been trying to cover his tracks. I mean, 6 people with thickened blood and no other signs of assault might raise questions. Six people mutilated, points to a nice, normal, human serial killer. If you and I hadn't been called in, he probably would have gotten away with it." She could tell he was getting tired. "Look, you need some rest. Mom is coming up later, you'll want to at least try to look like you aren't death warmed over for her. You go to sleep, we'll talk later." She leaned up and kissed him. He fell asleep almost immediately. Georgetown University Medical Center January 14, 1996 4:30 pm Mulder was dressed and waiting, watching the door. He had noticed that he had actually been in a room in the hospital that he had never been in before. he wondered. While he was pondering the statistical nature of the universe and hospital policy, his wife came through the door. "You're sprung. Hop in," she motioned to the wheelchair. He stared at it in disgust, but knew he would only lose the battle. He had fought it thousands of times, and he _always_ lost. With great displeasure, he settled into the offending vehicle and she pushed him through the door. They didn't really talk until they reached the car. "Where to?" he asked. "Mom's for the night. I don't want to travel with you before I know you're really doing better. We can fly out tomorrow. You'll still be back at school before the 17th." She was not looking at him, only the road, but he could tell she wanted to say something and she wasn't. "So, you didn't tell me how the meeting went with Skinner yesterday," he said, trying to draw her out. Her mom had come up the night before, and so had her sister Melissa and by the time they were alone, they were both too tired to talk. "It went well," she said, noncommittally. "He, ah, he made the offer of reinstatement again." She looked over at her husband to gauge his reaction. His expression was unreadable, so she continued. "Apparently, he had given it more thought. The Bureau policy still stands: partners can't get involved. If we came back, I'd be assigned to pathology. Of course, you could still request my assistance on any case. He suggested that maybe you could use a little more help on the X Files, though." "More help. Like who?" he asked. "Morphew and LaMont have requested transfers to the division. Anyway, you would be the Supervisor, just as you are now. And, of course, the 'external powers' have changed hands, too." She got quiet again. "Do you honestly think I can trust Mr. X more than Cancerman?" he demanded, then softened his tone. "It sounds like a good trade, but it would probably end up being more of the same!" "On the up side," she said, changing directions, "we would be closer to Mom. She would love to have us back home, especially with the baby." "Or we could talk her into moving to New Mexico. The winters are getting kind of hard on her, and with Bill, Jr. in Seattle now, she really has no reason to stay back here," he said quietly. "You really don't want to come back, do you?" she asked. "It all sounds fine, but that's just promises, right now. I'm not entirely convinced that Skinner will continue to back us up, that you'll be allowed the time to work with me, that Mr. X will really be on our side, and that the powers that be won't blow in a different direction in six months time," he said as he ticked the issues off on his fingers. "You're right, I guess," she said, nodding. He was quiet for the rest of the ride. She could see him turning it over in his mind. She had already made up her own mind: what ever he decided, she would do. Sure, it was a cop out, but as long as they were together, she was happy. She just hoped he made the right decision for himself. He still hadn't said anything more when they pulled up to her mother's house. "Where's Mom's car?" he asked, looking at the empty spot in the driveway. "She said she had a movie date with a friend of hers tonight and that she'd be gone all evening. I think it was an excuse to give us the house to ourselves," she said smiling suggestively. He leaned over and pulled her into a kiss. The kind of kiss he usually reserved for their bedroom. She finally pulled away for lack of oxygen. "So? What do we tell Skinner? He's expecting an answer," she said. "I say, let's sleep on it," he smiled, wiggled his eyebrows and for some reason, she knew the rule about keeping his distance in her mother's house was going to have an exception for one night. The end. Please e-mail comments to vmoseley@fgi.net