THERE COMES A TIME by Ellen Field cgolledge@tac.com.au 18 June 1999 Summary A different spin on Monday. No Pam in this story. Scully is the variable, and she is unaware the day is repeating. Rating PG-13 Spoilers Monday Disclaimer Fanfic's nothing new, so please don't sue There's no profit, and I can't stop it All X File characters and the Monday storyline belong to Chris Carter and 1013 productions 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and 'I Want to Break Free' - Recorded by Queen, lyrics borrowed without permission 'Don't Dream Its Over' Recorded by Crowded House, lyrics borrowed without permission Archive Yes, please let me know THERE COMES A TIME by Ellen Field Monday #1 10-13 AM The air exploded with an almighty bang. Dust and smoke surged from the disintegrating bank, shrouding the onlookers. People blindly ran for cover as shattered glass and debris rained from above. Dana Scully fell to her knees and refused to believe. ********** FBI Headquarters Washington DC 8-13 PM He walked along the basement corridor, rubbing a hand across his face, as though it may somehow wipe the images clean from his mind. His one wish was for this day to be over. Painful wounds had been ripped open by all he'd seen today, just a block away, under a clear blue Washington sky. The smell of blood and burned flesh still clung to him, he could taste the fear and feel the grit on his skin and in his mouth. He pushed his glasses up, pressed his hands to his eyes and tried to centre himself again, stopping short in the doorway at the end of the hall. A brief flicker of surprise moulded itself into a concerned frown. "I thought you went home." She sat behind the desk, her head down, shoulders hunched. Her hands were clenched in two white knuckled fists, a plastic evidence bag lay between them. She stared at it, unmoving. There was no indication that she had heard him speak at all. "Scully?" Skinner moved closer, until he could see exactly what it was that held her hypnotised. Something that should not have been removed from the rest of the crime scene evidence. But he could understand her need to take it. Only a small portion of Mulder's photo and printed identification details had survived the blast, tattered and burned round the edges. The badge remained intact. He picked the bag up and slipped it into his trouser pocket. It was another few seconds before she reacted, slowly lifting her head to look at him. Her face was blank. Pale and emotionless. But her eyes. Her eyes could not hide the truth. They reflected the depth of her turmoil, radiating confused pain. " I wanted to..." Her mouth trembled and her voice almost gave in. She bit her bottom lip. Skinner walked around the desk and crouched down, face level with hers. "Scully, it's OK. I'll drive you home." She nodded woodenly and slowly pushed herself up from the chair. He watched as she took her coat from the rack and began to pull it on. "Have you called your mother?" She didn't look his way as she answered. "Not yet. I will. Later." He saw it in the way she moved, he heard it in her voice, her inability to string more than a few words together. She was in shock. She shouldn't be alone. "Scully?" She was fumbling with her buttons, but her head jerked up. A single tear idled its way down her cheek. He stepped in front of her and squeezed her arm gently. "You need someone with you." Scully watched Skinner's mouth move. His words came to her at a slow crawl, worming their way down to tear her apart inside. The one person she wanted to be with would never be with her again. Ever. "Scully, did you hear me?" Skinner's face, heavy with concern, hovered in front of her. "Call her now, or I will." She nodded, even though her head, her whole body, occupied a space a million miles away from where she was. **** Later, in her bed and somewhere in the space between consciousness and dream, she drifted, and thought.... // He's dead, he's really dead // She was too far gone into sleep for the pain to become tears again. But it was no ordinary sleep. ********** Monday #2 6-00 AM A click brought the first stirring of awareness. A haunting voice filtered through the layers of confusion. Is this the real life, is this just fantasy Caught in a landslide Scully rolled towards the side of the bed and fumbled a hand from beneath the covers. No escape from reality // Shut up // Without lifting an eyelid, she reached out and smacked the snooze button on top of the radio alarm, successfully muting the song on the first attempt. Most mornings she would have been out of bed straight away, but not today. Stifling a groan, she pulled the sheets over her head. The weekend seemed a distant memory. She felt tired and uneasy. Vague images floated just beyond minds' reach, none clear enough to decipher. Fragments of a dream maybe. A dream that left a resonance of..... what? Sadness. Despair? No. It wasn't a dream making her feel this way. Suddenly it all made sense. Today was that dreaded day. The half yearly meeting to review crime statistics and departmental expenditure had come around again, scheduled for an early start in Skinner's office. The radio clicked and came to life again. "Hope you enjoyed that one folks. You know what today is? It's Double Take Monday. So here's another classic from Queen to keep you going." The unmistakable singing voice of Freddie Mercury pleaded, "I want to break free." Scully grabbed a handful of sheet and quilt and threw the bedcovers aside. She swung her feet onto the floor and leaned over to turn the radio off, muttering a silent prayer for the day to pass quickly. *********** FBI Headquarters Office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner 9-15 AM "Which brings us to Agent Mulder." Skinner, jaw clenched, grilled her with his eyes. "Will he or will he not grace us with his report?" The last thirty five minutes had seen them all - Skinner, herself and three other agents -- suffer through an extremely painful monologue delivered by Agent Arnold. An endless drone of meaningless detail, attempting to explain trends in nation-wide homicide. It had pushed Skinner close to the edge. Mulder's absence threatened to send him over. And as usual, she was caught in the middle. She slid her chair back, rose to her feet and quickly retreated from the room, studiously avoiding eye contact with the Assistant Director. On her way to the lift, she tried Mulder's cell phone again. Still turned off. // Don't do this to me, Mulder // He was in the office. She could hear him mumbling to himself as she approached the door. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah? "Mulder.." He was opening a letter and didn't even bother to lift his head as he replied. "I know, I know. I missed the meeting." Scully folded her arms and waited for him to look at her. But she could stand there and wait till judgement day and still he probably wouldn't oblige. So she let the tone of her voice convey her mood. "You're not getting out of it that easy. We're on a break, and you've got exactly two minutes to be in Skinner's office to present your report." "No," a quick glance up at her and then he was back to what he was doing. " I'm going to the bank." He scribbled on whatever he'd taken from the envelope, dropped the pen on the desk and made for the door. As he walked past he waved the piece of paper in her face. "If I don't deposit this..." He turned around and their eyes met. That expression of his, that look he gave her every once in a while. It could melt her anger, make her forget how often and how badly he annoyed her. "I'll tell you later. The bank's just down the road. Cover for me." And he was gone before she could argue otherwise. Scully stood there, slowly simmering. When he got back, she was going to kill him. **** Skinner glanced at his watch, then glared at her. Which made her look away, down at her own watch. The meeting had reconvened twenty minutes ago and still there was no sign of her partner. She could feel Skinner's eyes boring into the top of her skull and knew she was about to cop it, full blast. The door opened. Every head in the room immediately turned in expectation, waiting for Mulder to walk through. It was Skinner's secretary. "Assistant Director, there's a Lieutenant Kraskow from Metro PD on line one for you. It's urgent." Skinner nodded and went over to his desk. Scully breathed again. Mulder might make an appearance while he was busy taking the call. No more than a minute later, Skinner hung up the phone, swung his chair round and addressed the group. "Agents, I'm sorry. We'll have to postpone the meeting. I'll notify you all of the rescheduled time." And he turned and picked up the receiver again, already pushing buttons. Agent Arnold was devastated. He'd just finished setting up several charts with an assortment of graphs on them. Everyone else looked like they'd been given the reprieve call from the governor. Scully collected her paperwork from the desk, marveling at her partners' luck. Mulder had escaped a kick in the pants from Skinner this time, but she was still going to let him have it when he got back to the office. **** Ten minutes later she was exiting the Hoover building to begin the short walk to the bank. Mulder, being Mulder, had left his pay check sitting on the desk. More than likely he was standing in a line, holding a signed remitting stub in his hand. So why was she bailing him out yet again? No suitable answer to that one. But the sun was shining, the air was crisp and clear. If nothing, it was an excuse to get out of the office for a while. A siren was closing in behind her. She stopped and watched as a police car screamed past, only slowing to swerve in and out of the stalled traffic. There was a glimpse of brake lights at the end of the block and the siren cut off. She started walking again, quicker this time, a knot working it's way into her stomach. Police cars, she counted eight of them, plus two bureau cars, blocked the street outside the bank. She put a hand up to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight and could just make out the assistant director, crouched behind a cruiser, speaking with two other men. Scully showed her badge to a uniformed officer and ducked under the crime scene tape. Skinner overcame his surprise as she ran over to them, motioning at the pavement. "Agent Scully. Get down!" It was little more than a growl. "What are you doing here?" She dropped down next to him, her heart thudding. "Sir. I think Agent Mulder is in the bank. What's going on?" Skinner stared mutely at her for several seconds. It was impossible to read his face. "Sir?" "Hostage situation, silent alarm was tripped forty minutes ago. One shot fired about ten minutes after that. Police resources were stretched, so they requested Bureau assistance." He pointed to a large van parked further down the street. "We're trying to make contact. Surveillance is setting up a video link through the air conditioning vents." He grabbed her by the arm. "Come on." They climbed up into the back of the crowded van, Scully immediately recognising a man she knew to be one of the bureau's hostage negotiators. Mulder had introduced him to her a couple of years ago. Bill somebody. He gave a thumbs up signal as he spoke into a mouthpiece. The agent sitting next to him turned and smiled. "We're through." Silence fell as everyone stopped what they were doing to listen. A shaking female voice echoed from the speakers. "Hello?" The negotiator answered calmly. "Hello ma'am. This is William Murray of the FBI. Who am I talking to?" "Jan. Jan Bradbury." "Jan, is everyone all right?" "Nnn..." A screaming voice drowned her out. "Is that the cops? Tell them I'll kill everyone if they try and take me!" Jan began sobbing violently. Scully's fingernails bit into her palms. "He s.said ..." "I heard him" Murray said gently. "It's OK. Tell him I want to talk to him. I want to find out what he needs." Her voice, sounding more distant, stammered "It's the FBI. He wants you to t..talk to him. F..find out what you want." Nothing. Then, loud and clear, "What I *want* is for you all to FUCK OFF!" Laughter spilled out. "I've already shot one and I'll do them all, you hear me?" "OK. I hear you. I want to help" Murray said. "What's your name?" Scully scanned the row of television monitors. Snow filled screens. No pictures yet. A crazy giggle. "Yeah right. Call me Steve." He followed that up with another giggle. " You want to help me? Then get me a car. And a driver." "Steve, we can help you, but you have to give us something first. Release some of the hostages. Let us have the person who's been hurt." "He's dyin'. The stupid PRICK tried to shoot me." Cold sweat and unreasoning fear enveloped Scully. // Mulder // Murray continued in the same unthreatening tone. "OK. But he's not dead. You're not a murderer. Nothing has happened that can't be fixed. Do you....." Steve screamed. "You're not listening are you? You dumb SHIT. It was self defense. He tried to kill ME. So when he dies, I *won't* be no murderer." He was panting into the phone. Murray squeezed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, and took a deep breath. "You're right Steve. I'm sorry. But we don't want that person to die. Let us help." Steve didn't reply. His breathing slowed and then the line went dead. "Shit. He's gone" Murray hissed. "Where's the vision?" A technician seated further along the console held a hand up to his headset and said, "Should be... it's coming." The static disappeared and the screens turned blank for several seconds. Then three different black and white scenes flickered onto the monitors. Scully's eyes veered across them all. First. Behind the counter, deserted. Second. People lying face down on the floor. She looked at that one more closely. No sign of Mulder. Third.... third. Scully's knees almost gave way. She leaned forward and grabbed hold, bracing herself on the back of someone's chair. Her partner was in the middle of the third screen, the gunman standing over him. She forced herself to breathe. Somewhere a stunned voice said, 'fuck me dead, that's Mulder.' He was lying on his back, blood underneath him. It was spreading, growing large as she watched. A puddle becoming a pool. His eyes were open. Glassy and shocked. Right hand on his chest, more blood bubbling up through his fingers. His other arm was stretched at a right angle out from the side of his body. A tiny gasp came from her mouth and she felt something on her arm. She couldn't tear her eyes from the monitor, but she knew it was Skinner's hand. Restraining her, holding her. Stopping her from going where she desperately wanted to be. He was speaking softly in her ear. "Murray's the best. He'll get him out." She spun her head towards him, panic looming. "There's no time. He's bleeding to death." Skinner, again. "There's nothing else we can do." Did he think she didn't know that? Murray was doggedly trying to re-establish contact. The sound of the phone ringing could be heard from the television speakers. And the gunman yelling. "Pick it up! Pick the fucking thing up and tell them I want a car and a driver, or I let him die!" The ringing stopped and Jan's voice came through. "He wants a driver and a car, or...." Her voice broke and she started to cry. Murray tried to calm her down. "It's OK Jan. We'll get you all out. Can you do something for me?" The sobs didn't stop. "YY..yes." "Ask him if we can send in some paramedics." Scully stood on shaky legs, praying the gunman would agree. Then she'd only have to convince Skinner to let her pose as an EMT and she'd be in there. Her eyes were transfixed to the screen. Steve had crouched down next to Mulder and was grinning morbidly. It was amusing him, watching the struggle being waged for each breath. "Can they send in paramedics?" Jan's voice came through, barely audible. Mulder's hand slipped from his chest and slid noiselessly to the floor. The gunman slowly stood up as he watched its progress, then nudged Mulder's arm with the point of his boot. Mulder's eyes were glazing over. Scully saw his chest go down. She waited for it to rise again. "Too late. He's dead." Steve delivered the statement with a kick to Mulder's rib cage. His head fell sideways in a lazy roll and blood flooded from his mouth. There was nothing else, no response. And the murderer was reaching inside his jacket as Scully broke free of Skinner's grasp and ran from the van. ************* Monday # ? X Files Office "Mulder?" He tilted his head up at an angle and smiled. She was filled with an overwhelming desire to move close to him, touch his arm, feel the warmth of his hand. // What is wrong with me today? // It was a rare day when she didn't want to be here, at work. Today was one of them. This morning she'd woken up from a nightmare, one she couldn't remember, her pillow soaking wet from the tears she'd still been crying. It had left her feeling hollow and light-headed, even a little nauseous. The dream must have been about her father or Missy, she'd felt this way before, just after each of them had died. But the hurt felt so new, raw. Unrelenting. "Scully? Are you OK?" Mulder was standing in front of her. His eyes, filled huge with worry, locked onto hers, and she felt as though she was falling into them, sliding further away from reality. That was fine, she'd stay there forever. "Scully, you're giving me the heebee jeebies here." And there was that little nervous grin of his, the one she saw only when they were alone. She shook her head and resurfaced. Found her voice. "I'm sorry Mulder. It's just..." Her breath hitched in her throat. He began steering her towards a chair, but she stopped him, taking hold of his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm OK now." His head dipped forward and his eyebrows rose. He wasn't buying it. "Come on, Scully. My day has been total crap, but I think you're going one better." He slid his hands up onto her shoulders. "Tell me." His face was inches from hers, she couldn't look anywhere else. What could she say to him when she didn't know what it was that was wrong? That she had a bad dream about the death of her father, her sister, or something else? A premonition? He was waiting, she had to say something. "I think I might be coming down with some sort of bug. I don't feel right." He stood there for a few seconds, giving her an opportunity to change her story. When she didn't, he slowly repeated what she said, emphasizing the last two words. "You don't feel right." His right eye narrowed and he pushed his bottom lip out a fraction. Mulder's favorites recipe for getting answers. "I had a dream." His eyes kept searching for an explanation in hers. "And?" She took a deep breath. This was ridiculous. "And nothing, Mulder. Skinner wants your report, delivered by you." She took a step back from him and looked at her watch. "About five minutes ago." He stared at her for another long moment. "Don't dismiss this so easily Scully. The manifest content of a dream often reflects a latent fear or desire. You need to talk about it, and if you want to, I'm all ears. But right now I've got to get to the bank." Two words thundered deep in her brain. the bank He was leaning over the desk to pick something up. // His pay check // What made her think that? She couldn't see what it was. "I have to deposit this." She went cold. "One day, when hopefully we'll both be able to get a laugh out of it, I'll tell you a story about a man and a waterbed." He pulled a folder from the cabinet. "Take the report back up and cover for me? I promise, ten minutes, tops." PART 2 // Say no. saynosaynosayno // She took the file from him and forced a smile. "This is the last time I save your butt, Mulder." "Come on, Scully. It's what keeps you going. Your mission from God." And he gently squeezed her hand and gave her one of his most dazzling smiles before he left her. She stood there for another few minutes, thinking, feeling like she'd forgotten to say something to him. Something important. It just added more fuel to the churning of her emotions. // Snap out of it, Skinner. Meeting. Remember? // She walked to the elevator, pushed the button and waited for the door to open. The feeling that something was wrong only got stronger, she could feel the pump of adrenalin in her blood. By the time she'd reached Skinner's office, there was no denying it. She handed the folder to his secretary. "Kim, something urgent has come up." Only she didn't know what it was. "It should take fifteen, twenty minutes. Can you make sure the AD gets this?" The woman nodded, said nothing, but the silence spoke volumes. Along the lines of 'you better have a great excuse to give him when you get back'. Scully quickly retraced her steps to the elevator. What would she tell Skinner? There was no time to worry about it at the moment, right now she had to fight the urge to start running down the street to the bank. Mulder would already be there. // So? // So, she had to be there too. She didn't know why, but maybe it would make this terrible feeling finally disappear. *********** Cradock Marine Bank 8th Street Branch 9-30 AM Her eyes were down as she pushed open the glass door, only looking up as she took her first step into the bank, and into her nightmare. A wild eyed man dressed in a dirty army jacket and jeans was aiming a gun straight at her, his finger twitching. Someone screamed and the gunman turned towards.... Mulder. Who was rising to his feet, pulling his weapon from the holster. It was only halfway out as the gunman fired. The bullet hit hard, thumping Mulder in the chest, spinning him back down to the floor shoulder first. She had her own gun out, but the shooter was quick, he had pivoted to face her again. He stared at her, breathing hard. "Drop it. Drop it now!" she screamed. And chanced a split second glance at Mulder. He was conscious, flat on his back with arms and legs splayed. His face contorted in pain. Blood, a lot of it, was rapidly turning his shirt bright red. It was bad. "No. You drop it." As he said it, the gunman opened his jacket. And before she saw, she knew. // He's got a bomb // Sticks of dynamite were strapped all the way round his chest. Enough to blow up the entire building. No contest. She lowered her gun to the floor, raised her hands slowly and looked into the face of a madman, trying somehow to connect. "Let me help him." He ignored her, edging forward to pick up her gun, then backing up to collect Mulder's weapon. Mulder was bending his right leg at the knee, trying to get up with a body that wouldn't work. Almost begging, she asked again. "Please. Let me help him." The gunman's' eyes, at first bright with anger, were now dull. "Whatever. But you do anything I don't like, I shoot you too." His gun followed her all the way over to Mulder. "Understand?" "I understand." She dropped down beside Mulder and began removing his tie. It was heavy, wet. Blood-soaked. Her hands were lumps of lead, refusing to work the knot loose, and their tiny jerking movements caused him to squeeze his eyes shut against the pain. Only for a second, then they opened and found hers. Blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth and his lips were moving. "Mulder, it's all right. I'm here." The tie was off and she undid his collar, got a grip on either side of his shirt and pulled. Buttons popped open and his chest was exposed to her. A neat hole close to his heart pumped blood, and she instinctively clamped her right hand over it. But then she felt the wetness she was kneeling in and saw the dark pool spreading beneath them both. And all at once she knew what the exit wound must look like. If he was to have any chance at all, she had to slow the blood loss somehow. Get him up onto her lap a little, wedge her leg underneath him and push down on his chest... it might buy enough time for her to talk their way out of there. She bent closer and whispered. "I've got to move you a bit." "What are you saying?" Bank robber man was yelling at her. "The bleeding's worse from his back. I have to stop it." Her voice was shaking, but not out of fear for her own life. He took a step closer, regarding Mulder with a sneer. "Stupid prick was going to shoot me." He shook his head as though that was the strangest thing he'd ever heard. Scully couldn't waste one more minute. Mulder didn't have it. She looked up into the face she hated and said, "I'm going to lift him so I can block the exit wound with my leg. That's all." Not waiting for approval, she slid her hands under Mulder's shoulders and took hold of his arms. Before she began she looked down into his eyes and said, "Ready?" He blinked sluggishly at her. This was going to be bad for him, she had to do it in one quick movement if possible. She drew a deep breath and heaved. He grunted, and the bleeding from his mouth accelerated. But he was heavy, and she didn't get him quite far enough up. Rather than drag him any further, she wriggled her knee underneath his back. It was hurting him, he gasped and bit down on his bottom lip. The gunman laughed at her. "Not worth the effort lady." Scully pressed down on the wound again, one hand over the other. Mulder's head started a slow slide off her thigh and she quickly moved her top hand to catch it, carefully cradling his face. She wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. // He's dying. Get him out of here. // "What'syourname?" Three words were one as they tumbled from her mouth, and she couldn't look at the gunman as she said it. It was too hard to take her eyes from Mulder's face. But she heard laughter again, so she shifted her gaze up and willed herself to speak slower this time. "I have to call you something. Steve. How about Steve?" Why that particular name popped into her head she'd never know, but it caused an immediate reaction. The gunman stiffened and the gun wavered in his hand. Long seconds stretched on, then he mumbled "Whatever." "Steve. I have to get my partner out of here." Sirens wailed, louder and louder, until they were sounding in the street outside. Screeching tyres and slamming doors came next. Steve-whatever tightened his grip on the gun. "They try and come in here, everyone dies." Scully searched for self-control. "No one has to die. They'll call you. This can all end the right way, for everyone." He snorted and stared at her with utter contempt. "Except me. I go down for killing him." Tears were close, her eyes stung. Mulder's eyes were on Steve, open wide, but with a far away look in them that scared her badly. "The phone will ring. Tell them we need paramedics. Let them help, and he'll live." Now Mulder was watching her, she could feel it. "You two cops?" "We're federal agents. Please. Let them take my partner and the rest of these people. I'll go with you, drive you wherever you want to go." Mulder's head shifted on her lap and he made a noise in the back of his throat. His eyes were saying no, screaming no. She traced tiny circles on his cheek with her thumb and whispered, "It's all right, it's all right." A phone rang behind her. Steve motioned his gun at someone, she couldn't see who, and snarled, "Pick it up." Then Mulder spoke. A one word groan. "Don't." His face was growing cold in her hand but his blood flowed hot on her, the length of her trousers from knee to hip was saturated in it. She lay a finger on his lips. "Shh." He turned his head to the right, then back again, making her hand slip away from his mouth. A small hiss escaped as the pain hit him. "Don't ... go....with him." He coughed weakly and it brought blood onto his chin. She had to make him stop talking. "OK. I'm staying. Shh." She wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of her jacket. It did nothing, the blood kept coming. And she forced herself to block out the terrible images of the damage inflicted deep inside him. "Scully... you dream this?" She couldn't speak. The tears were painfully close now, she wouldn't be able to hold it together much longer. "You did ... dream this." His voice was so, so soft, but for her there was nothing else. A shadow of a smile played on his bloody lips. "Spooky." She wanted to tell him to be quiet, but something else stopped her, knowing this could be the last time she'd ever hear his voice. The part of her that realised he was slipping away, and was screaming - do something, anything, don't let this happen. Ripping her in two. Steve was on the phone now, although she was only vaguely aware of it. She found it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying, and her medical training told her it was shock taking hold, dulling her senses. In the end all she heard was a screaming repetition of his threat to kill everyone before the receiver slammed down. Negotiations, she could safely assume, had fallen flat. Despair welled up from the very heart of her. Mulder was shivering. She took her jacket off as quickly as she could and spread it over him. Steve was pacing up and down in front of the counter, but his eyes watched her every move. She slipped her hand back down onto Mulder's chest. God, no, please.. His respiration was virtually non-existent. Each small, shallow breath was harder to take than the last, and she knew he didn't have many more left in him. But he was fighting hard to stay with her, to tell her something... "You will... get out.... talk him... down." Now she was crying, big round drops that rolled down to splash in his hair. "... don't." His entire body shuddered and his eyes began rolling backwards, but he took one big, staggering gulp of air and found his way back to her. "Scully, you're..." Those eyes of his had always told her so much, but they were losing the spark, the pain couldn't even find a hold in them now. And still he struggled on, as her tears continued to rain down on the side of his face, mingling in his blood, her sweat. "My one...." He couldn't finish. She whispered, "In five billion." He found a last smile to give to her and she lowered her face to his, her lips pressed first to his cheek and then his mouth. She breathed one word into him. "Always." And she held him close as he exhaled in a long sigh against her. His final breath, shattering her into a million pieces. There was nothing she could do. Mulder was gone. He had died bleeding in her arms on the floor of a bank. And the world would want to go on. From far away she heard her nightmare say "Too late." And knew he was throwing the switch ........ ****************** Monday 5:50AM Blood, a sea of blood, everywhere. And a blinding light/obliterating wind came at her, tore through her, bursting flesh and bone to... Nothing. Scully's eyes flew open. She was panting and crying and, // God, please. Let it be a dream. // and .... Mulder. Her hand batted at the telephone till she managed to get a grip and bring the receiver to her ear. Speed dial one, his cell phone. The cellular customer you are trying to reach is not responding... Speed dial two. A connecting click, ringing, and then his sleepy voice. "Yeh. Mulder." And he would be rubbing his face, running a hand through his hair. Alive. "Mulder, it's me." "Scully?" His voice, saying her name, was wonderful. "Scully, you OK?" Then she realised he could probably hear her quietly sobbing, but she couldn't stop. "Scully!" He was obviously fully awake now, and afraid. "Mulder, I needed to .. I'm sorry." She had to start sounding like herself soon or before very long he'd be at her front door, kicking it in. "I needed to check whether you were all right." "What? Scully, are *you* all right?" And she was sure she heard a muffled curse and a noise like.... running water? A sort of sloshing. Sleep was falling away from her and so was the panic, leaving her feeling like a fool. A reassured fool. "I'm fine, Mulder. It's stupid. I had a dream, but it was so real... I'm sorry I woke you." There was a definite squelching sound now. What was he doing? "Are you sure everything's OK there?" He didn't say anything for a few seconds, but she could hear him moving about. "It's lucky you did call, Scully. Damn waterbed sprung a leak. I could have drowned. What time is it?" She opened her eyes a little wider and glanced at the clock radio beside her. "It's five... fifty two. Your *what* bed?" "Son of a bitch. My clock's shorted out, my cell phone is full of water... Shit!" A huge thump sounded in her ear. "Mulder?" No answer. "Mulder?" "Yep, Scully. Just found my shoes." And he laughed. A short crazy laugh. "I've got some cleaning up to do. I'll see you at work." "Don't forget the meeting. Skinner's office?" "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, Scully. I'll be there when I get there. Cover for me." And he hung up. She lay in bed, trying to unravel what was going on in her head. A nightmare. Could that be all it was? The radio came on. '.......your last chance today. I'll say it again. You don't get it right today....... well then you're a loo-hooo-ser.' The DJ, in a fair attempt at a Jim Carrey impersonation, succeeded only in giving her the chills. She could have sworn he was talking directly to her, that she was his one woman audience. Goosebumps erupted on her arms. A shower might make her feel better. She left the radio going as she pulled on her robe. The DJ was talking about some stupid competition as she took her underwear from the drawer. And then a song started up. Not the song she had been expecting to hear. // Expecting??? // She was sure he was going to play a song by Queen. Was this what going insane felt like? She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the radio. The music suddenly seemed louder, and she found herself listening to the words being sung... There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost But you never see the end of the road while you're travelling with me Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over Hey now, hey now, when the world comes in They come, they come, to build a wall between us - You know that they won't win The goosebumps were everywhere now, and she hugged her arms to her body. OK. So she was crazy. Working the X-files with a certifiable partner - it was bound to happen sooner or later. Nothing that intensive therapy couldn't cure. She tried to come up with a better explanation as she headed for the bathroom. *************** FBI Headquarters 9-25AM The doors parted in front of her and she stepped into the elevator, sliding her phone into her pocket. Mulder wasn't answering. Then she remembered their early morning conversation and what he'd said. His cell phone was full of water. Now she was losing her memory as well as her mind. Agent Howard was hunched in the corner, that permanently pissed-off scowl engraved in his face. He'd had Kersch for a boss for the last two years, so it was understandable. "If you're looking for Mulder, I just saw him leave the building." "Excuse me?" "He was heading down towards 8th avenue. Another big foot sighting maybe?" Howard smiled sweetly and she bounced one just as good straight back at him. She was first off the lift on the lobby level, and as soon as she was out on the street she broke into a medium paced trot. She'd given up trying to work out what was wrong with her. All she could feel now was an impending sense of danger. She could see him. Mulder was another hundred yards or so up the road. Shit he could move, one step of his was equivalent to about three of hers. She starting running full out and began to gain on him. "Mulder! Stop!" He slowed down and turned around, waiting for her as she jogged up to meet him. "Let me guess. Scully. You emptied your clip into those charts of Agent Arnold's and ran screaming from the building." She ignored his joke and took a second to catch her breath properly. "You're going to the bank." He looked at her like she'd grown another head. "How..?" Then he glanced down at the deposit book he held in his hand. "Oh. Yeh, I am. You up for the excitement?" They started walking, side by side, and she could feel him studying her from the corner of his eye. "First the phone call this morning, and now you're playing hookey to come to the bank with me. Scully, what's wrong? You seem ..... agitated." She'd done something that wasn't that easy to do. Spook the spookster. She stopped and took hold of his hand. "Either I'm going crazy," Well that helped - Mulder's mouth dropped open wide enough to catch flies. "Or .... I don't know. Let's just get this over and done with." And she began walking again. He caught up to her in one stride. "Get what over and done with?" She looked straight ahead. "This day." An awkward silence fell. She turned her head a little and saw she had him worried, big time. He deserved some sort of explanation, and she would have liked nothing better than to have one to give him. Something a little more substantial than feelings of deja-vu and imagining the radio was trying to communicate with her. It was madness. They had reached their destination. She tried to reassure him - hell, she tried to reassure herself, with a small smile as she climbed the first step. "Come on. It's nothing. Probably just a severe case of PMS setting in." Mulder put a hand to his heart and made his eyes go wide. "I'm doomed." He took the stairs two by two and held the door open, right behind her as they entered the bank. A long line of people stretched down the centre of the chamber and only two tellers were serving. He rolled his eyes and leaned in close to her. "My oh my, what a wonderful day." And he moved over to join the end of the line. Scully stayed near the door, searching people's faces, looking for god knows wha.... A man in a dirty army jacket and stained jeans. Standing by the far wall, leaning on the counter as he wrote something. Mulder directly between him and her. Surreality wrapped round her as fragments of her dream flitted through her mind. Was this actually happening, or would she wake up in her bed, crying again? And then the voice on the radio was in her head.... You don't get this right today..... She unclipped her holster, her hand closing over the weapon handle as she started to close the distance. Her nightmare man spun around and she screamed something as he pulled a pistol from his coat. It could have been "Gun. Get down." And now he turned towards her, just as she had almost reached Mulder, who was grabbing for his own gun. The man fired a millisecond before she did. Mulder was falling, // he's hit // then the robber's hand flew open as her bullet struck his right shoulder. His gun clattered to the floor, and he crumpled to his knees. // He's got a bomb. He's got a bomb. He's got a bomb. // In slow motion she saw his other hand sliding into his jacket. She steadied her gun and yelled, "Federal agent. Freeze or I *will* shoot." He hesitated.... and kept going. She shouted again. "No!" Part of her brain registered the building pressure of her finger on the trigger, squeezing.. as a round hole materialised in the centre of the mans' forehead and the recoil absorbed up through her forearms. His body was propelled backwards, his head slamming into the wall. It slowly slithered down to meet his shoulder in a crooked embrace, his eyes staring out at her, frozen in a final expression of surprise. A woman had been screaming the whole time, and she wasn't stopping now. Mulder was down and hadn't moved. But before she could help him she had to make sure -- she quickly went to the gunman. He was dead, she could see blood and brain splattered on the paintwork behind him. She crouched down, carefully opened his jacket and saw the explosives, the switch. She had known. How? She put her gun away and pulled out her cell phone, punching in 911 with her thumb. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI, badge number 2317-616. I need assistance at the Cradock Marine Bank, 8th Street branch. There's been an attempted robbery, I've shot and killed a man who has a large amount of explosive strapped to his chest. My partner has been wounded. We'll need EMTs' and the bomb squad." She was pushing herself back up on her feet as she spoke, wanting to get to Mulder, dreading what she would see.... He was standing behind her, gun in hand. Swaying, but standing, his eyes asking if she was all right. "Scully?" She could see he wasn't. The top left hand side of his shirt was turning red and he hugged his arm in at an angle across his mid-section. He fumbled his gun into his holster, stumbled towards her and would have fallen, except she was there to catch him. She helped lower him sideways to the floor and he rolled onto his back with a groan. She looked around the bank as she placed a hand on the side of Mulder's throat. One more thing needed to be done. A few people were lying down, most still standing, but all had the same shocked expression on their faces. They weren't going to move unless she told them to. "I'm a federal agent." She spoke slowly, letting the strong beat of Mulder's pulse soothe her own racing heart. "I want everyone to exit the building, go to the other side of the street. Calmly but quickly. The police will be here within minutes. Please do not leave the scene, they'll want to speak with each one of you." Mulder was trying to sit up. People were staring down at him as they filed past, and he obviously didn't appreciate being the prime exhibit. PART 3 All feedback goes to Ellen Field ------------------------------ "PMS. It's a real bitch. He gave her the strangest look as he tried to get up, and it turned into a scowl as she restrained him. "Come on Scully. I'm all right. We don't want to be around if that bomb decides to go off." She maintained the downward pressure on his chest. "It looks like it's on a simple relay switch. Just let me check you, see if you're OK to move." He winced as her hands jerked at his tie. And there was that sensation again. Reality blurred. This wasn't the first time she'd seen and done that. Mulder's voice brought her back to earth. "Bullet went straight through my shoulder. I know what that feels like because my partner shot me there once." He smiled sarcastically. "Come on, give me a hand up." The hole in his suit jacket was close to his collarbone. An inch or two higher and it would have missed completely. An inch or two lower..... She leaned forward to check his back. The exit wound was bigger and was bleeding freely. Help was on its way, she could hear sirens. Little good that would do them if the bomb did explode. The bank was empty, they were it. "OK. Let's move. But you're bleeding pretty badly Mulder. Take it easy." He nodded and used her arm to pull himself up. When he was on his feet, he took a listing step sideways before she managed to grab his right arm, hoist it over her shoulder and slide her arm around his waist. Now the walking arrangements were sorted out, they made their unsteady way to the door as quickly as possible given the circumstances. "Some day we'll have to do this properly, Scully." "What are you talking about?" "Dance." "Promise or a threat?" "With me leading you, I promise it's a threat." When you wanted him to talk, you couldn't get a word out of him. But here he was in pain that would render most people speechless, and he wouldn't shut up. "Put a sock in it, Mulder. Concentrate on the stairs." Police cars were careening to a halt in front of the building and she could see and hear the ambulance coming down the street. They made it to the bottom of the steps without falling, and she balanced Mulder's arm on her shoulder while she hunted inside her coat for her badge. She held it open in the air and yelled at the first uniform she saw. "FBI. There's a dead man inside the bank with a string of dynamite strapped to his body. I think everyone is out. Double check, and make sure this whole area out here is clear. Who's in charge?" The officer pointed back towards an unmarked car pulling up behind the patrol cars. "Lieutenant Kraskow I think." He nodded at Mulder. "You need a hand there?" Before Scully could reply, Mulder did, his voice croaky. "We're all right. Get the area secure." They continued towards the ambulance. Two paramedics were running over to intercept them, one pulling a stretcher. Mulder's head was down and he was breathing hard. Scully tried to get a good look at him. He was pale and sweaty. "Nearly there, Mulder. "How you doing?" He took a second to answer. "Good." "Yeah, I can see how good." But she didn't have to keep him on his feet any longer, assistance had arrived. "I've got him." The male EMT supported Mulder and took hold of his arm so Scully could slip her head out from under it and step backwards. He looked at Mulder, then her. "Gunshot?" "Yes. Straight through. Bleeding's bad from the exit wound." He stood on his toes and peered over at Mulder's back. "Ah, yeah, I see." Mulder was helped to sit down on the stretcher with a little navigational guidance from both EMT's. His jacket and tie were eased off and handed to Scully, his shirt cut away and a compress taped over both sides of the wound. He flinched every time his left arm moved, and even more when he was made to lie down, but didn't complain. He did, however, look totally miserable about the whole situation, especially when the female paramedic made preparations to insert an IV. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. Scully reached down and rubbed his leg, it being the only part of him she could touch without getting in someone's way. "Hey, Mulder?" "Yeh?" The needle was sliding into above his wrist, and his eyes squeezed shut a little tighter. "I've got to finish up here. I'll see you at the hospital soon." The female paramedic was taking a blood pressure reading while the other radioed the hospital. Scully waited for one of them to finish before she asked, "Where are you taking him?" "GWU." The woman pulled the stethoscope from her ears as she answered. Scully could see blood already seeping through the bandage on the front of his shoulder. "How's he doing?" "OK, pressure's a little low." She turned to her partner. "Ninety five over seventy." He relayed that last piece of information and replaced the radio mike. "Let's go." They began rolling the stretcher back towards the ambulance. Scully's eyes were on Mulder the whole way, that was until she heard her name being called. Skinner and a smaller man in a dark suit were pushing their way towards her through a cluster of policemen. Judging by her boss' body language, she didn't know whether she should be glad to see him or not. "Agent Scully, what happened here?" Skinner stared at the jacket in her hand and then the departing gurney. "Is that Agent Mulder?" "It's Mulder." Angry Skinner became worried Skinner in the space of a second. "Bad?" "Gunshot wound to the shoulder. We walked into the middle of a would-be robbery. After Mulder was hit I returned fire. The offender is dead." The words sunk in. The offender is dead. Because of her. She had aimed for his head and fired. *Intending* to kill. She didn't want to think about why. All she allowed herself to feel at the moment was giddy relief. The man next to Skinner spoke for the first time. "I'm Lieutenant Kraskow, Metro PD. I want a formal statement from you before you go anywhere." Scully seemed to grow another few inches in height. "I realise that. Right now it might be advisable for you to supervise your men and make sure the thirty or forty sticks of dynamite on the dead man in the bank don't blow up." Skinner had a trace of a smile on his face as he nodded at the van that was just arriving. "That would explain the bomb squad." The small hint of humour disappeared from his face and he was back to business. "I'll take care of things here Agent Scully, you go with Mulder. I'm sure Lieutenant Kraskow can arrange for someone to take both of your statements at the hospital." Kraskow didn't argue, he wasn't that much of a fool. "Thank you sir." She was already running to catch the ambulance before it left. The stretcher had been loaded and the driver was about to close the door. He saw Scully coming and held it open a second longer as she clambered aboard and sat down on the spare gurney opposite Mulder's legs. He was looking over at her and she smiled at him, but his face was pensive. He didn't smile back. "You knew he had a bomb, Scully. Otherwise you wouldn't have fired again. He'd dropped his gun." Trust Mulder. He'd stored away everything he'd seen, put the pieces together and now saw the big picture. What he said made absolute sense. And it forced her to think - to ask herself again - how had she known? Mulder echoed her exact thought. "How?" She stared at him. She didn't have an answer. The paramedic had been monitoring Mulder's pulse and respiration, and started to attach an oxygen mask over his face. He twisted his head away and said, "I don't need that." But she wasn't so easily deterred. She held his face so he couldn't escape, and expertly slipped the mask on. "Actually you do." Mulder muttered something from underneath and it didn't take much of an imagination for Scully to figure out what is was. But he never took his eyes off her, waiting for her to say something, acknowledge what he'd said. She tried to dredge that smile up again. "Just rest, Mulder. We'll talk later." And she closed her eyes to escape his stare. But the self-imposed darkness did nothing to soothe her mind. As the adrenalin high began to fade, her body grew heavy, her arms and legs felt like rubber. Every bump in the road rumbled up through her, the noise of the siren sounded weird in her ears, and she couldn't stop thinking about that moment. The moment when Mulder was shot, falling to the floor. Only this time.... it was different, she was seeing it from another angle. From the doorway of the bank. But that wasn't how it happened.... And then she was holding Mulder, and he was bleeding, and the wound was to his heart. He was... He was dying. "Maam?" Something touched her and her eyes flew open. The EMT was shaking her arm. "Are you OK? " She picked up a folded blanket from the end of the gurney and began spreading it over Scully's shoulders. "Scully?" Mulder had pushed the mask down onto his chin and was trying to sit up. Not missing a beat, the paramedic reached back, readjusted the mask and pointed a finger in his face. "Do not move. Your partner will be fine." "Mulder, I am fine." But as she said it, she wondered if she was. "I think you might be a little shocky. Let me take your pulse." The EMT already had her fingers on Scully's wrist. She lowered her head while she counted the beat, then looked up and said, "It's a little quick. No problem, just take it easy." The ambulance turned to the left and began to slow down. The paramedic was now back with Mulder, checking the IV line. Her head bobbed and her body swayed as they went over what was probably a speed hump. She put her hands on the side of the gurney to steady herself. "We're here." *********** Emergency Waiting Room GWU Medical Centre 10-48 AM "Dana Scully?" She put down her coffee and nodded, the blanket falling off one shoulder as she began to get up. The doctor, who looked all of eighteen, caught hold of it and gently pushed her back down in the seat. "Your partner is fine. I'm Doctor Mahoney." He squatted on his haunches in front of her and put out his free hand. Scully shook it and smiled. "How fine?" She was looking at the chart he held in his other hand. "He has a fractured clavicle. It's a clean break, no fragments to worry about." That explained why Mulder had winced every time someone moved his arm. "The wound won't require surgery, the bleeding's only minimal now. But I do want to admit him, administer more fluids and IV antibiotics. He may also need a unit of blood, it's line ball at the moment." His face screwed up slightly and he moved into the seat next to her. "And that's where we've struck a problem." Scully swivelled around to face him. "What problem? You said he was fine." "The problem is he wants to go home. I told him it would be AMA, but that didn't have any effect. You might like to try and talk some sense into him." Same old same old. She leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath. "I might not, but I will." As they walked down the corridor to the third exam room, the doctor began flipping through Mulder's file. "I suppose I should be grateful." Scully looked at him, waiting for him to go on. "At least he told me he wants to leave. Unlike like last time when he sneaked out the back door." He tapped the page he held open. "I can't believe this. He went home without being examined, less than twenty four hours after a craniotomy. It could have killed him." Scully wondered what Mahoney would say if he knew Mulder had actually gone to the South Pole instead of the next suburb, and what he'd done when he got there. But she just smiled and said, "He had his reasons." "Must have been doozeys." He shook his head as he leaned on the door, holding it open for her. "You first." A nurse was adjusting a sling on Mulder's left arm. The bag of IV fluids hanging from the rack on his right side was half empty. The bed was fully elevated, and he sat upright, watching everything the woman did with a wary eye. Until he realised he was being observed as well. He glanced up, saw her, and smiled. "Called for backup, did he?" He gestured at the doctor with a tiny tilt of his head. "Hello to you, too, Mulder." His gaze intensified and his smile evaporated. "Are you OK, Scully?" "Yes, I am." She moved to the end of his bed. "But don't make me take that back. Don't make me have to stand here and argue with you till I'm blue in the face. You need to be admitted." "No, I don't. I've had enough fun for one day. Tonight I want to be home in my own be..." He stopped abruptly, gave one short nod, and amended his sentence, "apartment." But she'd caught him out. "So you can sleep on the couch." "Fine, I'm used to it." Mahoney didn't want to go another round. He'd heard enough. He glared at Mulder in exasperation and said, "I'll have someone bring in the admitting papers. Sign them or go home AMA, I don't have time for this and I don't really care what you do." With that little speech out of the way, he quickly walked to the door and flung it open as he passed through. Sufficiently hard to send anyone flying if they'd been walking past at that particular moment. The nurse took another minute or so to finish up. Then, without a word, she left the room as well. Scully shook her head with a sad smile. "Well done, Mulder. You have a real way with people." He closed his eyes and sighed. "Scully, if I felt bad enough, I'd stay. Honestly. I'm OK, but I am worried about you." He opened his eyes, only half way. The talking had worn him out, or they'd given him something for the pain. Probably both. "I think you experienced something today that was very much out of the ordinary. I believe it may have been precognitive vision. Whether from a dream or something else, I don't know. But it's scaring you. And you don't want to admit it." She felt anger bubbling up inside her. "Yes, Mulder, I did have an extraordinary morning." She stuck out her thumb. "One. A robbery attempt." She uncurled her index finger. "Two. I saw you shot by a maniac, and three..." her middle finger joined the others, "don't forget three. Said maniac had a bomb strapped to his chest and was about to blow us all to kingdom come." // And I knew // She folded her arms before he could notice the tremors in her hand. "Is that enough for you, or would you like me to go on?" His face was so intense, so full of concern, that she immediately felt guilty. He knew her too well. She *was* scared, and she'd reacted to her fear in the easiest way she knew how - -rant at Mulder. Another few steps around the side of the bed and she was next to him. She reached out and took his hand. He squeezed her fingers gently, and his eyes softened. She searched for the words to say. It took a while, but in the end she settled for the truth. "I don't think I'll ever know what happened today, Mulder, and you're right, it has scared me. But now all I feel ..." Her throat constricted and her vision began to blur. "I feel like I was given another chance." She brought her hand up to wipe the tear away from her face, before it could roll down any further and bring more of its friends with it. And then he was pulling her towards him, till her face was against his right shoulder, and he held her tight. His hospital gown was prickly against her skin, and thin enough for her to feel the warmth of his body through it. She bit down on her bottom lip and breathed in the smell of blood and antiseptic and him. And finally, for the first time in this terrible day that seemed like forever, she felt at peace. Someone cleared their throat behind them. Reluctantly, she leaned back from Mulder, his eyes watching as she pushed her hair behind her ear. When she turned round, a woman was standing in the doorway, familiar looking papers in her hand. "I have admittance forms for Fox Mulder to sign." Scully walked over and took them from her. "Thank you. I'll bring them out in a minute." The clerk nodded and left. Mulder was subdued, but not ready to give in. "Scully..." "Sign the papers, Mulder, and I'll make you a promise." A smile was working its way to one corner of his mouth and his eyes suddenly seemed a little brighter. "I'm listening, Scully." She made him wait a bit longer, then said, "I'll spring you later this afternoon." Mulder grinned and reached for the forms, but she held them out of his grasp. "If your doctor agrees you're well enough. *And* ... you come home to my place." The grin vanished. Now he was the picture of sobriety. "That's a very unique pick-up line, Agent Scully." "Just for you, Mulder, always." His smile came back, but it was different somehow -- sad and happy together. It made her want to resume their interrupted hug. Instead, she handed him the papers and pen. "Sign." ************* EPILOGUE 4-27 AM Scully rolled over and looked at the clock. Something had woken her from a deep and dreamless sleep, and it took a minute to orient herself. // Mulder // She'd checked on him just after midnight. He'd been out like a light, courtesy of the knockout pills from the hospital. But their effect would be wearing off by now, and the muffled noise she heard could have been him moving around in the spare bedroom. Pulling on her robe, she quickly made her way along the dark hallway. The door was open and the bed empty. Another sound drifted up from the direction of the lounge room. She took the extra blanket from the end of the bed and went to find him. He was sitting on the sofa, and as she moved closer she could see him more clearly. His head was rolled back, resting on top of the cushion, and his eyes were closed. He was holding his left elbow in the palm of his right hand, his fingers digging into the fabric of the sling. "Mulder?" He didn't move except to open his eyes, watching as she sat down beside him. "Sorry, Scully, I didn't want to wake you up. What time is it?" His voice didn't sound the least bit sleepy, and she wondered how long he'd been awake. "Half past four. You're due for some more tablets." "I just took them." He dragged his hand down the side of his face and then reached over and slipped his fingers over her hand. "I need to sit up for a while. Go back to bed." "I will in a minute." She squeezed his hand and then let go to spread the blanket over him. He smiled and closed his eyes again, and after a few minutes she did the same. Everything was still and silent, their breathing the only sound in the world. "Thanks, Scully." "Mmmm." She knew she'd fall asleep if she didn't move soon. But before she had a chance to do anything about it, Mulder's weight shifted next to her and his arm moved around her shoulder, his hand gliding down her arm. He was holding her again, his cheek pressed into her hair. Much too aware of how different things could have been, she savoured the moment for all it was worth. She reached across and pulled the blanket over her as well, then slid her arm around his waist and gently hugged him. He sighed against her. And they were still there hours later, asleep in each others' arms, as sunlight edged its way across the room and Tuesday morning came to greet them. THE END / Love - Could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire Would not we shatter it to bits, and then Remould it nearer to our hearts desire? from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Note from the author: "Monday" was a great episode, Gillian Anderson's acting was superb throughout, (and DD was terrific too, that goes without saying ) but the scene in the bank where Scully held a dying Mulder -- well, I think her performance was exceptional. And that got me thinking. I would have liked her given the chance to do more, and that's the exact moment I asked myself "What if Scully was the variable?" That one little piece of speculation saw me slave over a computer for a couple of weeks to write this story. Which turned out to be pretty mushy -- I vow never to write a death scene again! And the moral to all this? Next time I start talking to myself and asking stupid questions, I'm not going to answer. :) Thanks for reading, I hoped you enjoyed ! EF