Title - Kismet Author - Jaimee Kidder Email - SpecialAgentDana@aol.com Rating - PG-13 (for violence) Classification - XRA Spoilers - Herrenvolk/Talitha Cumi, Fight the Future, Triangle, Two Fathers/One Son, Three of a Kind Keywords - Mulder/Scully romance Summary - Mulder and Scully investigate a seemingly meaningless murder in a small farming town in Alabama and suddenly find themselves caught in the middle of events that could lead to the end. Note: I had to change the dates around a bit, so it takes place in August, but the season 6 finale hasn't happened. Sorry, no psychic Mulder here. :-) And for all you (fellow) nitpickers, I realized around page 60 that Kersh isn't even M&S's boss anymore now that they're back on the X-files, so yes, I made a boo-boo. But by then it was too late to change anything, so...it'll be okay. (won't it? of course it will) ::whirrrrr:: "I made this!" Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. I wish I was Scully and owned Mulder, but such is not the case. If I did, this would be an episode -- or two, or five - - of the show, not some story that Chris Carter will prob'ly never read. :) The secondary characters are mine (so there!). But Mulder, Scully, and the rest are all CC's (hail to the man!), 1013's, and Fox's. Too bad for me. ;-) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Grow your tree of falsehood from a small grain of truth. Do not follow those who lie in contempt of reality. Let your lie be even more logical than the truth itself, So the weary travelers may find repose." ~Ceslaw Milosz ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ========================= 6:33 p.m. Thursday, August 12, 1999 121 Three M Lane Four Mile, Alabama ========================= "Shelly?" Robert Harris called from the porch in his Alabama drawl. "Where are ya, dear?" "What d'ya want, Rob?" Shelly Harris answered from inside the old white house. "I'm right in the middle of cookin' dinner." Rob stuck his head in the doorway, his hair slightly tousled by the late summer breeze. "I'm gonna go over to Brett's 'n pick up something I left there." "Can't it wait? You just got home...'n dinner's almost done," she asked as she walked slowly to the door where her husband was standing, slightly curious at what he needed that could be so important. He looked torn between staying and going, but then finally made up his mind and leaned closer to his wife. "This's pretty important, dear. I left all my product research information over there and I'd really like to get it done tonight. Won't be long." "'Kay, hon.' Hurry back," she murmured and gave him a loving kiss. He grinned and jogged down the porch steps to the car. Shelly smiled unconsciously as she listened to their old station wagon roll down the dirt driveway. ((He's such a good husband,)) she thought. ((And his hair's so cute when it's messy... )) She smiled at the memory and unconsciously listened for the honk of the car's horn, their little tradition that Rob had faithfully carried out since the day they were married. When she didn't hear it, she wiped her hands on her apron and headed towards to the door to see if anything was wrong. "Rob?" she called. "You there?" Just then, the horn sounded. Relieved and amused at her jumpiness, Shelly turned around to go back to her soup, then froze as realization hit her -- the horn was still blaring. Shelly jolted the burning soup off the burner and raced to the door. Peering out the screen, she spotted the car. It had swerved out of the driveway and was rapidly heading for the big oak tree in their yard. She could see Rob inside slumped over the wheel unconscious. ((Or dead...)) her mind taunted. ((He's dead, and it's your fault.)) Shelly was determined not to think about what could have happened. "Rob!" she screamed, hoping he could hear her. She leaped out the door, off the porch and took off running for the car. At that moment, the car struck the tree and smoke began to rise from the hood. Torn between going to Rob or calling paramedics, she finally decided to let professionals help her husband, charged back into the house, and snatched up the portable, running outside again as she dialed 911.... ========================= 10:21 a.m. Friday, August 13 Washington, D.C. ========================= Dana Scully looked up from the stack of papers she had been leafing through to see a smiling Fox Mulder throw the door open. "And he's late again, folks!" he announced with a flourish. "You're in a good mood, Mulder," Scully commented, not quite keeping the smile off her face. "I am. I am in a *good mood.* Take a look at that," he said, tossing the sports section of the newspaper on the desk in front of Scully. "Yankees Pitch Shutout Game Against Pirates,'" Scully read, mentally rolling her eyes. "Tell me that's not why you were late, Mulder." "Why does it matter if I was late, Scully?" Mulder said lazily, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the desk. "It's not as though we've got any real cases going...it's been as quiet as a --" "Mulder, we *do* have a case. Or at least, we will. Did you forget?" she asked, seeing her partner's blank look. "We've got a meeting with A.D. Kersh in 10 minutes." "Yeah, and what's he gonna give us?" Mulder said sarcastically as he reluctantly picked up his jacket and put it back on. "More scut work? Following up big leads on a fertilizer case? I can hardly wait. Maybe I should have stayed in bed." "Yeah, yeah, yeah...let's get moving, shall we?" Scully tugged playfully at Mulder's tie. "Ooh, nice tie...I hope Kersh likes Oreos..." "Hey, it's my Friday tie...hey, Friday the thirteenth, Scully -- something big's gonna happen." Mulder teased on their way out the door. "After you, Miss Scully." "You mean like we might be on time for this meeting? That's the biggest thing I'm up for right now," Scully yawned as she ducked through the door. ========================= 10:29 a.m. Office of Assistant Director Kersh ========================= "Come in, agents," Kersh ordered as Mulder opened the door and stared warily into the office. "Have a seat." "You wanted to see us, sir?" Scully asked. "Yes, there's a case I'd like you two to take. But before I brief you on it, I want you to understand something. I'm doing you two a favor by letting you have the X-files back. But that doesn't mean every case I give you will be an X-file. I want you both to get used to the real cases again. And remember, Mulder -- I will not tolerate any more of your attempts to make the case more interesting by dragging interstellar conspiracies into it." Kersh's voice rolled commandingly as he vindictively ground the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray on the desk. "Does that mean this case is not an X-file?" Mulder asked, barely concealing his disappointment. Kersh eyed him momentarily and ignored the question. "It's a case out in Four Mile, Alabama...a small farming community near Jacksonville. Looked simple enough at first -- a guy turns suicidal and rams his car into a tree. But as it turns out, he may have been murdered. Police found..." Kersh paused in his mechanical lecture to leaf through a few papers on his desk, then found what he was looking for, and continued, "...a small puncture mark on the side of his neck." Mulder cocked an eyebrow at Scully. She gave him a long look and then turned back to Kersh. "They think he was drugged and passed out, making him ram his car into the tree. Anyway, that's about it. See what you can find -- and don't blame it on aliens, Agent Mulder. That will not be a satisfactory explanation this time. You hear me?" Mulder got up and bowed, then turned a smirking face to Scully who gave him the Look and led him out. "Someone wants to drug some guy in a teeny town out in Alabama? Yeah right, and he says this isn't an X-file." Mulder proclaimed. Scully stopped walking and turned him to face her. "This time I might agree with you," she said softly, looking into his eyes. Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Let's walk while we talk," he muttered, aware of more than a few stares from the desks around them. "When the Lone Gunmen...uh...asked me to come out to Las Vegas...this looks exactly like what I saw there. People drugged -- with marks on the neck like this man in Alabama -- with a formula that made them highly suggestible. One man was ordered to kill himself and jumped in front of a bus." Mulder nodded, familiar with the case from Scully's report. "You think this is the same thing you saw in Nevada?" She looked doubtful. "It...looks like the same scenario, but the question is, why this man? Why Alabama? The drug worked fine in Nevada, so why would they need more tests?" Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Looks like we're going to Alabama." ========================= Saturday, August 14 Four Mile, Alabama 6:20 p.m. ========================= The two arrived at the scene to find squad cars and yellow crime scene tape littering a huge yard and dirt driveway. An old brown station wagon was accordioned into a big oak tree a few yards from the driveway. Police wandered around the property with small spiral notepads and stubby pencils, taking notes and looking somewhat out of their league. The agents were silent for a moment, surveying the scene, and then Mulder spoke. "Scully, why don't you go in and talk to...uh...Mrs. Harris. I'll see what I can find out from the police." She nodded and they slid out of the car. Mulder looked for the nearest police officer as Scully ducked through a group of men in blue and rang the doorbell at the old white house. He could hear her calling through the screen door. "Mrs. Harris? Mrs. Harris, I'm from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Can I please speak with you?" "Yeah," a female voice answered despondently from inside the house. Turning his attention to the officer a few yards away, Mulder walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder, holding up his ID in the other hand. "Sir? Special Agent Mulder. Can you tell me what happened?" "Really couldn't tell ya," the officer drawled. "First, looks like he passed out and smashed into this tree here, then we find a mark on his neck that might've had somethin' to do with it...I don't know what t' make of it all. We don't have too many...uh...incidents like this out here. Just hard for me to get used to." "This mark on his neck -- can I see it?" "Body's already been taken to the morgue." "What did it look like?" Mulder's voice held a trace of frustration. "Pretty tiny. The only reason the paramedics noticed it was because his head was bent forward onto the steerin' wheel, exposin' his neck...and there was a little bit of swelling around the area. Looked to me like it could've been made with maybe a really small needle. Then again, maybe it was suicide 'n this is just a bug bite...we really don't know." Mulder nodded. "Did the paramedics determine a cause of death?" "Well, Mrs. Harris told the 911 operator that she found him dead in the car when she ran out to him, and our paramedics could confirm that he was dead. But they didn't know what caused it -- he looked perfectly fine...just like he fell asleep in the car." "You find any other evidence?" "We did find this..." The officer held out an evidence bag containing a small rounded disc. "Looks like a...a top that you screw onto a container...where'd you find it?" The officer pointed back down the long dusty driveway. "Down there a ways, sitting on the dirt. Couldn'ta been there too long 'cause it hadn't gotten all dusty like the rest of this place," he finished, looking fairly pleased with this revelation. "Sure it didn't come from the Harris's trash?" "Mrs. Harris said she ain't never seen nothin' like this before." Mulder examined the disc again. It was made of thick, glossy white metal. The inside rim had spiral grooves running around the inside, indicating that it was a lid to something. He handed the bag back to the officer. "No fingerprints?" "Nope." Mulder sighed and shoved his hands back into his pockets, appraising the scene again. "Thanks again, Officer...?" "Kelley, Jake Kelley." "Thanks, Officer Kelley," Mulder said automatically, handing him his card. "Call me if you turn anything else up." He walked over to the crumpled car and crouched down to inspect the tires and tire marks. Not seeing anything of interest, he glanced up to see Scully walking from the house to where he was. He stood. "How is she?" "She'll be okay," Scully said quietly. "Anything?" "The body's already been taken to the morgue, so I didn't get a look at the mark on his neck, but Officer Kelley over there said it could've been made with a very small needle. The only other thing the police have found is this white metal cap to some container. No fingerprints, nothing. Mrs. Harris had never seen it before. What did she tell you?" Mulder asked, sounding disgusted by the town's ineffectual police department. "Robert Harris...white male, age 31...no enemies, and no one besides her mentioned in his will. No suicidal tendencies, and he'd seemed perfectly happy, yesterday and otherwise. As far as health goes, he was perfectly normal. He hadn't been complaining of any aches, pains, or anything. He was at very low risk for brain or nervous system problems -- normal cholesterol and blood pressure, and he didn't smoke or have diabetes. No history of heart problems, either personally or in his family. This guy was the healthiest guy on the planet. And no problems at home, nothing apparently wrong at work, aside from the fact that Mr. Harris had seemed slightly preoccupied with his work the day he died." "Did you find out how he died?" "Evidently, he was just going to a friend's house. They both worked at Nature's Best...it's a company that produces corn products -- and he was showing his friend the research information into a product they were shipping. He'd left his files at his friend's house and left to go get them. Mrs. Harris was inside the house making dinner and heard the car horn go off. She ran to look and Mr. Harris was either unconscious or dead inside his car and had fallen onto the horn. She was too late to stop the car from hitting the tree, so she called paramedics and ran to her husband, but he was dead by the time she reached him." Mulder was silent for a minute as he assessed the information, and then asked, "What do you think?" "I think...I think I was wrong about what I said earlier. I mean, this guy was a farmer for some local corn oil company. It may be suicide, or it may be natural causes, but I don't think there's an X-file here." Mulder looked at her, deep in thought. There was a long silence, and then he started for the car. "Mulder? What's your theory?" "I think..." there was a dramatic pause, "...we should go grab some dinner. We can talk about it then." ========================= Four Mile Cafe 7:10 p.m. ========================= Mulder returned with his fries and hamburger, and Scully's soup and salad, and sat down across from his partner. "Bon appetit." "Thanks." Scully took a sip of her soda and leaned closer to Mulder, speaking quietly. "Anyway, you promised to tell me *your* ideas." "That's gonna be a little hard, Scully," Mulder said, his arms folded across the table. "Why?" "I'm not even sure what my ideas are. I've just...okay, that company? Nature's Best? I think that's where we should start." Scully sighed. "Mulder, I think Kersh is right -- not every case we get is an X-file. You need to stop looking for what isn't there. This is a suicide case. We can wrap it up and go home. The local PD can straighten out all the loose ends." "There are *too many* loose ends to close this, Scully. We can't go home now. And what about the disk -- or whatever that was -- that they found at the crime scene? Do we just forget about that?" "It probably fell out of the neighbor's trash can." Mulder shook his head. "Too far up the Harris's driveway. And the neighbor's driveway is on the other side of their house, so the garbage barrels are no doubt over there too." Scully looked up, frustrated once again at her partner's stubbornness. "Well, if it wasn't a suicide, then what? Murder? Of some farmer who probably never made an enemy in his life? That's the only other explanation. Like it or not, Mulder, that's the way it is." Mulder was silent. Scully could tell he was dissatisfied with either explanation. She continued, trying to help him make up his mind. "The puncture wound on his neck? That would have to be from some sort of injection. We won't really know until I can autopsy the body, but there wasn't enough time for someone to inject Mr. Harris and get away. Besides, there were no footprints --other than his -- leading away in the dirt. What ever the mark is from, it was probably self-administered." Mulder smiled wryly. "Do you know how hard it is to give yourself a lethal injection, Scully?" Scully sighed, exasperated, but finally gave in. "Okay, then where do we start? If this is a murder investigation, what leads do we have?" "I think we should check into the company where Mr. Harris worked. Maybe they'll have some ideas." ========================= Sleepy Z Motel 2:02 a.m. ========================= Mulder lay in the motel's bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts flashing a mile a minute. Wondering how it all fit together; knowing it did somehow... It was a puzzle worth solving. A man was dead -- a healthy man who had seemed perfectly happy in all respects and had had no prior suicidal tendencies. From everything Mulder had learned about him, Robert Harris didn't seem like the type to kill himself. Death by natural causes seemed equally unlikely; not even the paramedics had been able to determine what killed the man, discounting heart attack or some other circulatory problem. Since the car crash hadn't been nearly strong enough to kill, it had been concluded that Harris's death had occurred either before the collision -- when Mrs. Harris had seen him collapsed over the wheel -- or very shortly after, because Mrs. Harris had found him dead as she called 911. Since he had been fine when he left the house, there was about a five-minute window when death had occurred. That ruled out practically everything, including a stroke. And paramedics had not seen anything apparently wrong with the man, so a heart attack was also out. The only alternative was murder. But that seemed just as unlikely as the other explanations, from everything Mulder had learned. The Harris's had a big yard -- the neighbors' houses were too far away for anyone to have run to or from there without Mr. or Mrs. Harris seeing them. When the police had gotten there, they had found no tracks in the driveway -- other than Harris's -- and there would have been. The driveway was entirely covered with a thick layer of dirt, which was also slightly wet from the previous day's rain shower. Harris had just gotten home from work, which meant he would've noticed someone hiding in the car -- and again, there were no tracks leading away from the car, and Mrs. Harris had seen no one other than her husband in the yard all of that day. The only real clues they had were the mark on Harris's neck, and the little white disk. Despite everything, Mulder's gut feeling told him murder. His instinct was rarely wrong. The TV was on, playing dimly in the background. Mulder got up and began to pace around the room, flicking empty sunflower seed shells from his fingers every few seconds. He went to the big double window and stared blankly out, habitually taking in all the details. A couple of guys were hanging around on the corner smoking Morleys...the "y" and "z" were burned out on the glowing motel sign...a big jeep and a tanker truck rumbled down the road.... Mulder snapped himself out of the hypnotic daze he had fallen into and forced himself back to bed. As he drifted off, he was vaguely aware of an ad being played on the television for the Nature's Best company. "We produce quality corn products easily and efficiently using the latest technology. Consider us the next time your business needs superior farming products. Various employment positions worldwide are open and waiting for you, from Dallas to Detroit. Stop by today." Dallas, his blurring mind repeated endlessly, mantra-like. But Mulder was already asleep. ========================= Sunday, August 15 9:41 a.m. ========================= Mulder was awakened by Scully's gentle shaking. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she teased. "Ohhhhhhhh...I'm awake, I'm awake..." Mulder opened his eyes to see Scully smiling at him, her big green eyes holding the barest hint of reproach. "Pleasant dreams?" she quipped, turning to walk into her room. Mulder rolled out of bed, smiling hazily at her words. Suddenly, Scully's friendly remark struck a chord somewhere in his mind. The sensation was strong enough to make Mulder sit back down on the bed and make the comment, "Wow...that is so strange...I've got this really strong feeling that there's something I should remember." Scully turned around, staring quizzically at Mulder and wondering whether she should devote too much thought to this newest quirk in her partner. Then she remembered why she had woken him up, and checked her watch with one eyebrow raised. "Well, you'd better get changed. We have to go see the manager of the Nature's Best plant, remember? And then at noon I'm scheduled to do the autopsy...." She trailed off, seeing her partner's blank look. "Mulder?" "Hmmm?" Mulder looked dazed. "Is everything all right?" "No...I just haven't been able to shake this feeling; it's like I'm missing something," he said distantly, trying to figure out what he could have forgotten. "Well, we may be missing our chance to get to Nature's Best if you don't hurry up," she admonished. "I'll finish getting ready in the other room." ========================= Nature's Best management office 10:51 a.m. ========================= The receptionist at the desk was filing her nails when the two F.B.I. agents strode in. "Special Agents Mulder and Scully to see Mr. Kahn," Mulder announced, the two of them flashing their IDs. The girl looked the pair up and down suspiciously, and, chewing her gum contemplatively, buzzed Mr. Kahn's office. "Two F.B.I. agents are here, sir," and in a lower tone of voice, "What do you want me to do?" There was a pause, then, "Send them in to see me, Ms. Nichols," "Yes, sir," Ms. Nichols acquiesced. "You can go on in," she said, obviously suspicious. Mulder smiled and gave the girl a mock salute. Scully nudged him, a small smile playing on the edges of her lips. "Let's go, Mulder," she muttered. Mulder swung open the door and strode through, Scully on his heels. "Mr. Kahn? I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder; this is Agent Scully. Can we have a word with you?" "Of course." Mr. Kahn reached forward to shake the agents' hands. He was a tall, powerful man who looked wasted in such a small job as managing a tiny branch of an agricultural plant. "Please, have a seat." Scully seated herself at the desk, while Mulder, preferring to win the interview through psychological means, paced slowly back and forth behind Scully, summing up Kahn's office with casual, critical glances around the room. "Pretty far out in the country, aren't you, Mr. Kahn?" Mulder asked easily. "Oh yes, we find that the remote location well serves our agricultural needs," he answered, professionally. Mulder nodded musingly and leaned casually against the wall. Kahn glanced from one agent to the other, waiting for someone to speak. Finally, when no one did, he asked, with a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice, "Is there a problem, agents? I've never had the F.B.I. in here before. We're such a small plant..." "Nothing's wrong with your management, sir," Scully was quick to amend. "We're here to obtain some information about an employee of yours." "An employee?" Mr. Kahn looked genuinely confused. "Former employee, actually," Mulder spoke up suddenly. "Mr. Kahn," Scully began coolly, "an employee of yours, Robert Harris, was found dead a few days ago." He nodded slowly, looking quietly at Scully. "We won't know until the autopsy later today," she continued, "but most of the evidence points to murder. Can you tell us why someone would want to kill Rob Harris?" Kahn looked surprised and stunned at the mention of the word 'murder.' He paused for a moment, his lips pursed as he thought. Finally he looked up. "No...I really can't think of a *thing.* I'm sorry." "Are you sure," Mulder spoke up. It was clearly not a question. "Think. Did he ever have a meeting with you or another one of his superiors that didn't go well? Disagreements between himself and another member of the company that seemed more threatening than usual?" Mulder leaned forward. "Mr. Kahn. Did you ever hear Rob Harris talking about concerns about the company? Any worries or --" "Agent Mulder, are you implying that Nature's Best is responsible for Rob Harris's death? And if you are, I'll tell you right now --" Scully quickly took over. "Mr. Kahn, we're not implying anything; these are just routine questions that we have to ask. We only want to get to the bottom of this. Do you know *anything* that might help us in this case?" Just then her cell phone rang. "Just a minute please..." Scully murmured, pulling out her phone. "Scully. Yes? What?! When? Yeah, we'll be right over." "What is it?" Mulder asked, shooting Scully a concerned look. Scully looked at Mulder, communicating wordlessly to him that she'd tell him in the car. "Mr. Kahn, thank you for your time, and we'll get back to you on this," Scully stood and nudged Mulder to do the same. "Will one of you please tell me what's going on?" Mr. Kahn asked, now looking irritated. "We'll contact you in a few days, Mr. Kahn. Thank you," Mulder nodded, then closed the office door and ran to catch up with Scully as she stalked out to their car. The two got back out to the Camry, hurriedly climbed in and slammed the door. Mulder slipped the keys into the ignition and started up the car. "Floor it," Scully said urgently. "Scully? What happened?" "They stole the body," Scully said shortly, while, like her partner, trying to put the pieces together. "What??" "Rob Harris. His body is gone." ========================= Jacksonville Hospital 11:44 a.m. ========================= The two agents made an impressive entry into the tiny hospital. Mulder's trenchcoat swished around his ankles as he walked, his height contrasting Scully's shorter frame, and their black coats accenting her sunrise hair. She kept stride with him, walking quickly, efficiently, and professionally. The two rounded the corner and were met by Dr. Cambrell, the attendant in charge. "Hi, I'm Dr. Cambrell," the small, balding man said, outstretching his hand. "Thank you both for getting over here so soon. Let me show you where the body was being kept." "Who was the last person to see the body?" Mulder asked. "As far as I know, I was. I'm almost always the last to leave." "You locked up when you left?" "Yes, I did, but the security system here is pretty old." "Is it possible someone could've been hiding somewhere in the building without your knowledge?" "I think that's entirely possible." "And when would you have left last night?" "I think around 11. I had a last bit of paperwork to finish up. When I got in this morning, I didn't immediately notice that the body was missing. I don't usually check...they almost always stay put," he said with an ironic smile. "When did you first notice?" Scully continued. "I had been told that you two would be coming over around 12 this afternoon to perform an autopsy, so I opened up the autopsy room and got it equipped with the necessary supplies. We don't have too many autopsies here. When I finished with that, around 10:00 or 10:15, I guess, I checked on the body and found it was gone." "Why would you check on the body?" "Due to the...somewhat odd nature of the case, I've been a bit intrigued by it. And frankly, I've heard about what you do. You work with paranormal cases, right?" Mulder threw Scully a questioning look. "I wanted to make sure, you know, that nothing had happened. Nothing weird. And I'm glad I did," he finished, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. By this time, they had reached the small morgue and autopsy room. The agents took up searching -- first summing up the room in a glance or two, then walking the perimeter of the room looking for anything eye-catching or otherwise out of the ordinary. Scully then headed over to the shelf where Rob Harris's body had been kept, inspecting the stainless steel handle and surface of the cabinet for prints or other odd marks. Mulder, not seeing anything abnormal, joined her. "This was a clean job," Scully murmured. "There's nothing here, Mulder." "Yeah...whoever did this knew what they were doing." Scully opened the drawer. The interior of the shelf was clean too; it looked almost polished. The two agents glanced quickly inside for a few seconds then Mulder slammed it shut in disgust. He turned around sharply to look intently at Dr. Cambrell. "Did you see anything out of the ordinary last night? Anyone here who isn't usually? A car parked outside the window of the morgue with people waiting in it? Anything like that?" Dr. Cambrell frowned in thought. "Well, I remember that there was this jeep that kept driving back and forth in front of the building. One of the times it passed, I thought I saw something metal sticking out of the window. Binoculars, I think. Anyway, I had thought it was odd, but didn't give it much thought -- I was working pretty hard on my paperwork." Mulder looked closely at Dr. Cambrell, his barely contained frustration changing instantly to interest. "Did you see any of the occupants of the car?" "No, but like I said, it was pretty late...this was around 10 last night, I'd say. It was fairly dark, and the streetlights aren't what they could be. And I wasn't looking too closely. The only reason I saw the binoculars -- or whatever they were -- was because the shape of the metal caught the light. I'm sorry." Mulder turned to glance at Scully. She stared back, her features holding that sharp look that usually meant that she was trying to fit the pieces together. He turned back around, his sudden smile conveying the beginnings of comprehension. Then Scully remembered something. "Do you have his medical file, sir? I'd like to look over it." "Sure," he said, walking quickly to the desk and picking up a file. "I had a copy made in case you wanted it." "Thanks," she said, surprised at his genuine eagerness to help. "Thanks, Dr. Cambrell. If we need your help again, we'll get in touch with you," Mulder said. Scully took the cue, and nodded politely to Cambrell as she followed Mulder out the door and into the quiet hall. "It's beginning to make sense, Scully," Mulder announced quietly and confidently. "The jeep? It could have been military issue...it was too dark for Cambrell to have noticed that." "Mulder --" "Did you hear Cambrell? He told us he had heard that we investigate cases relating to the paranormal. Doesn't that strike you as odd? How would some doctor in a little *farming* town in Alabama know that?" Scully stopped what she was going to say, and nodded reluctantly. "Yes, I remember that. And yes, that is odd." Mulder continued, quiet triumphance showing in his eyes. "And I finally realized what I was missing. Remember, I woke up this morning feeling like I'd forgotten something? Last night, I had the TV on. An ad came on for the Nature's Best company. It mentioned something about employment offers. In Dallas, among other places." Scully had that look again. Mulder continued. "Dallas. Corn products -- that means cornfields. Jeeps driving around the streets late at night. I did some checking. Turns out Four Mile is within two miles of the Fort McClellan military base and nine miles away from the Anniston Army Depot." "What?" "Last night I saw a tanker truck drive past the motel...there isn't exactly a big highway going through here. And let's not forget Robert Harris, whose body is mysteriously missing from the morgue -- in a tiny city that's had virtually no crimes to its name until now -- and who died possibly as the result of that little puncture mark *in his neck.* The officer I talked to said it could've been made by an insect bite. What does that bring to mind, Scully? Don't tell me that there's nothing going on here. The only thing that's missing are ashes and a Morley butt in the ashtray in Kahn's office." Scully stopped walking and looked Mulder in the eyes for a full 15 seconds. Mulder suddenly wondered if he had gone too far -- he knew this subject was difficult for her to talk about. Then Scully spoke. "You're right. I...this isn't easy for me." She sighed deeply, looking straight ahead; her defenses had been weakened almost imperceptibly for a moment. Mulder began walking again, quicker this time. He looked down at Scully walking beside him, noting again her strength, her courage. Something she had said to him a long time ago suddenly came back to Mulder's memory. "...I had the strength of your beliefs...." The pair made their way back to the car in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Mulder opened the passenger door for Scully. She seemed vaguely surprised, and snapped herself out of her thoughts long enough to half-smilingly murmur, "Oh...thank you, Mulder." He smiled at her and slid into the driver's seat. Mulder pulled the car out of the garage and onto the main road. He took a deep breath and turned to look at his friend. "Scully," She shook herself visibly, and looked over at him. "Uh," Mulder fumbled, unsure of where to begin, "Scully, I know that this is hard for you...but still, I think it's a good bet that we're dealing with the same people here. Possibly even a...a minor use of the bee carrier system that we saw in Dallas." "You think Rob Harris knew too much so they had him killed?" Mulder nodded. "And they found a way that they could get rid of Harris and test the reliability of the bees at the same time. Not to mention the fact that they must've developed a much stronger strain of the virus than the one that...stung you." He heard the words come out of his mouth and was instantly kicking himself for the complete lack of tact. Scully winced inside, instantly and *almost* completely stifling the memory that rose to her mind. She continued listening, trying not to let her distraction show. "At any rate," Mulder continued after a moment, "they're coming out of the closet little by little...getting bolder with their use of the virus. All I know is that I wish we had taken more precautions to keep our presence here more of a secret." "Well, Mulder, this is a small town...they most likely haven't seen this much excitement since color TV was invented." Scully said, smiling distractedly. Mulder looked at her once again, then plunged back into his thoughts. The car cruised down the empty, dusty road. The two drove along in silence. Mulder almost didn't see the stoplight, but in spite of the fact that there were no cars on the road, and probably hadn't been all morning, he pulled to a stop at the red light. Looking back at his partner again, he felt compelled to speak. "Scully...I know I don't tell you this enough, but --" Mulder suddenly forgot the words he had intended to say as Scully turned to look at him again. For an unguarded moment, her eyes held all the feelings that Mulder knew were also his. He loved her. And for the first time since that day last summer, he knew beyond a doubt that she loved him in return. Abruptly, the memory of his encounter on the Queen Anne came crashing back. And what had happened after. ((You told her you loved her when you were in the hospital, and she laughed in your face. You two aren't meant to love each other. That's why you haven't been able to tell her.)) Mulder sighed, resolving reluctantly to once again remain silent. Suddenly his dismal thoughts dissolved. ((You love her. There's no denying that. You know she loves you. And there's no putting it off any longer. You'll hate yourself if you don't speak now. You may not have another chance.)) Knowing that *these* were his real thoughts, Mulder felt a sudden surge of peace. ((This is right.)) He took a deep breath, and reached over and took Scully's hand. "Dana...I love you." Fox Mulder said. The look in her eyes changed to a look of amazement mixed with shock. She stared into his eyes for what seemed to Mulder eternity. He could see her considering this revelation, a mixture of expressions flitting across her face. Then she smiled, with tears beginning to form in her beautiful eyes, a smile of pure joy. Mulder had just enough time to think that he had never seen such a beautiful smile in his life before...and then he found himself kissing her, and all other thoughts faded away. ========================= Sleepy Z Motel 12:51 p.m. ========================= Scully sat on her bed in her motel room in a daze. She couldn't believe what had happened. Mulder -- workaholic, obsessed, alien-hunter Mulder -- had told her that he loved her. He had kissed her and told her that he loved her. The words played endlessly over and over in her mind like a melody. "...Dana...I love you...." She couldn't help it. She couldn't stop thinking about him. ((Stop it!)) she told herself fiercely, wrenching herself off the bed and pacing around the room. ((You need to think about this. You need to collect your thoughts and get ready to talk with him.)) Standing straight before the mirror now, she threw her shoulders back and smoothed a loose strand of fiery golden hair back into place. ((There. That's better. You're calm, you're rational.)) She let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding and replayed the scene in her mind. They had kissed. Scully had never felt so completely at peace. For the first time in years, all the problems and rules of science and logic had melted away, and she realized how much she trusted Mulder and felt his absolute trust of her. She had no idea how long the moment lasted. After they finally pulled away from each other, she had held his gaze for as long as it took for another car to pull up and honk impatiently. Then they went back to the motel. She had gone to her room while Mulder drove to the Four Mile Cafe. Each had to be alone in their own way. She hadn't thought the moment would come when she and Mulder expressed their feelings for each other. In fact, it had only been recently that she had realized that she loved him. But she had never been sure about Mulder's feelings toward her -- if they were real or if it was just teasing. She had never thought about their relationship extending past anything but friendship; she had never wanted to think that far ahead about her future or damage the friendship they had now. Loneliness crept in only when she let her guard down, and that didn't happen very often. But right now it was impossible not to think about their relationship outside of the work and partner context, and for the first time, the thoughts that came to mind were good *and* realistic ones, and she indulged readily in them. The adjoining door creaked open, startling Scully out of her reverie. She glanced up from where she was now sitting on the floor with her back to the bed, half-expecting to see the Cancer Man standing there, Morley in hand. "Hey again," Mulder said cheerily, his smiling voice snapping Scully back to reality. "I got you a...salad and some very, very good-smelling cheddar cauliflower soup," he said, whipping the two containers out from behind his back with a flourish. "That was fast...mmmmm...thank you, Mulder," she smiled, taking the Styrofoam dishes and plastic silverware from him with a curious glance into the soup. He shut the door and plunked down on the floor next to her, leaning comfortably against the bed. "Yeah, they've actually got a drive-through at that little place...look at that, Scully...big, juicy hamburger..." he teased, brandishing it under her nose, then seizing it with both hands and taking a huge mouthful. She grinned and speared a piece of mushroom with the plastic fork. "Oh, I looked over Robert Harris's medical file." "And?" It came out as more of a grunt through the burger. She smiled. "And...he was perfectly healthy in every respect. In fact, he had just undergone a complete physical as per company policy. It was very thorough. The ECG test showed no coronary artery disease, and the EEG and various CAT scans came back negative for any problems as well." "They were thorough," he remarked, slightly amused. "I guess that pretty much rules out death by natural causes." Scully nodded. "So where do we go from here?" she asked, poking her spoon into the thick soup. "I think," Mulder said, "that we should call the Lone Gunmen and see what they can find out. Maybe they can give us some leads." "While you do that, I'm going to run a background check on Phillip Kahn." "He did seem kinda...wasted in that job, huh?" Mulder agreed, scooping a fingerful of Scully's soup into his mouth before she could stop him. A smile tugging at her mouth, Scully cocked an eyebrow at him and without a word, snatched Mulder's fry container. Mulder let out a "Hey!" and grabbed the other end of the container in Scully's hands, a grin taking over his face. She laughed and shoved his hands off the side of the box, but he reached back and captured her hands, his big ones engulfing hers. Scully tried to yank the container back from Mulder, but suddenly found herself looking into the most adoring eyes she'd ever seen, and stopped tugging at the fry container. Realizing that the same look must be in her eyes, Scully was vaguely aware of leaning over to meet Mulder's kiss. The phone rang. Startled, they snapped away from each other, and Mulder jumped up to answer the phone. Scully began eating her soup again, trying to regain her composure. She turned her head to look as Mulder picked up the phone. "Yeah?" There was a brief pause, then Mulder called impatiently, "Hello?" There was no answer. He put the receiver down, a puzzled expression on his face. Scully looked at him, slightly concerned. "Mulder?" He stood by the bedside table looking blank for a second, then he blinked and his eyes cleared. "Mulder? You okay?" He nodded slowly. "Good," she said, putting her worry aside. "I think --" Just then Scully heard the sound of a car, turning the corner into the parking lot of the motel with screeching tires. Something about the sound made a chill go down her spine. She glanced up at Mulder, who had turned his head to stare at the connecting door to their room, closed now. Suspicion growing in her mind, she was almost afraid to speak. "Mulder...?" Mulder stalked to the dresser and slid the car key into his pocket. "We gotta get out of here, Scully," he said tightly. "Mulder, who was on the phone?" Scully demanded, her body tense. "Someone who hung up the minute they heard me answer. They know we're investigating Rob Harris's death, Scully, they know where we're staying, and now they know exactly where we are *right now,* and I don't feel like hanging around until the welcoming party shows up. The car's parked outside my room. Grab your jacket and let's *go.*" Scully picked up her jacket, hoping against her instinct and all she had seen that this was a paranoid delusion, and quickly strode to the connecting door close on Mulder's heels. He threw the door open. Standing in the outer doorway to Mulder's room was a man in a white decontamination suit smiling grimly. But that wasn't the first thing the two agents saw. A swarm of bees was rapidly filling the room. Unable to breathe, Scully was snapped out of her daze by Mulder's voice. "Run!" he yelled over the growing hum. "Scully, run!" She whirled around, unwillingly turning her back on the threat, and bolted out the door with her jacket pulled up over her head. At the last moment she remembered to close the outer door to her room, and turned to see the swarm filling her room. Somehow she forced her hand out to the door still inside the room and slammed it. Mulder was suddenly at her side, service weapon in hand. "Come on, let's go," he said gently. She nodded numbly and pulled out her own handgun. The motel was laid out in such a way that Scully's room, although connected to Mulder's, lay directly behind it, and opened out to the other side of the motel. On the opposite side now from where the car was, they stealthily walked the length of the motel and rounded the corner with weapons leveled at any possible threat. Both of them were completely focused on the last corner ahead. They had almost reached it when a thought caused Scully to stop walking. "Mulder," she said quietly, touching his arm lightly with her fingers. He looked down. She paused, searching for the words. "What is it, Scully?" Mulder asked, looking at her closely. "I have something I need to tell you. Before we go." He nodded softly, inviting her to continue. "I love you too, Mulder..." She leaned against him and only then realized she was shaking. A slow smile spread lingeringly across Mulder's features as he put his arms around her and lightly rested his chin on her head. Scully blinked back sudden tears and forced herself to go on. "And I just wanted to tell you now because...I want you to remember that whatever happens, I love you...." She trailed off and stepped back to look into Mulder's eyes as he tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. "I know, Scully," Mulder murmured as he put his arm around her shoulder, pressing his lips against her hair. She sighed and looked back at the corner of the motel. "You ready?" Mulder mouthed. She nodded and ran her hand through her hair, composure coming on once. They pulled out their service weapons and cocked them at the same time, affording Scully a small smile. Mulder looked at her and grinned, and then both snapped into total concentration as they approached the end of the building. Scully leaned against the wall and slowly looked around the edge. "The car's about ten parking spaces away," she hissed. Looking farther, she whispered, "Let's go -- it looks clear." She slid around the corner first and kept her gun ready. Suddenly a sound made them both freeze. The click of a hammer. Mulder's quick glance told Scully everything. His hands went up in surrender, as she watched out of sight on the other side of the wall. Mulder stood, hands clasped behind his head, staring at a man in a decontamination suit. In one gloved hand, the man was aiming a .38; the other held a small white cylinder. Mulder could only think of two things. The man was still suited up for a reason. The suit would slow the man down. Mulder braced himself. From her new vantage point on the opposite side of the Camry, Scully watched her partner's back and kept her gun trained on the edge of the wall. Suddenly, Mulder broke into a run, snapping himself around to the other side of the wall as the gunman fired several shots. Forcing herself to put apprehension aside, Scully waited for Mulder to join her, eyes focused on where the gunman should appear. Just then, a small white cylinder came flying through the air and clanked to the ground a few feet past the sidewalk that ran around the motel. She dropped to the ground, unsure of whether it was an explosive or something else. She watched the object warily from where she lay on the pavement. Then, inexplicably, one end of the capsule came loose and rolled to a stop a few feet away from the Camry. Knowing she should go investigate, Scully stood cautiously and then spotted Mulder, half-crouching, half-lying against one of the doors of the motel. "Mulder!" her voice rang out across the desolate parking lot. He looked up weakly, his eyes blank. She ran to him, bent down and began to move his arm to lay it across her shoulder. His cry of pain caused fear to course through Scully like a deadly poison. Looking quickly down, she saw his white shirt, now soaked with blood. Then she looked up from Mulder's limp form...and gasped. A massive cloud of...something was hurtling towards them and a humming noise was rapidly growing louder. Then her body kicked into high gear as her senses belatedly registered what her mind refused to acknowledge. Bees. "Mulder! Come on, Mulder, we have to move," she cried hoarsely, fighting the panic that threatened to paralyze her. They got to their feet, and started stumbling towards the car as the bees overtook them. Scully fought down the instinct to swat at the insects, knowing that would only provoke them. She managed to slide into the car and help Mulder in through the passenger door before the bees boiled around the car. Leaning back in her seat, panting, Scully was suddenly struck by a thought. ((My window is open!)) Scully slammed her hand down on the power window button. Slowly, the window started up. At last it closed. But not before one bee had gotten inside. Scully sat, frozen, watching as the deadly insect crawled along the roof of the car and buzzed at the back window. Wrenching her eyes from the tiny creature, she looked down at Mulder sprawled in the seat next to her, blood seeping into his shirt. Trying to ignore the angry bees outside the car and the one inside, Scully bent over her partner, choking back a sudden gush of fear. "Oh, Mulder..." She deftly unbuttoned his jacket and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. He smiled exhaustedly and mumbled, "Don't you want to slip into something more comfortable?" She raised her eyebrow at that, but, totally absorbed in the task at hand, said nothing. His shirt was off by now, and Scully was looking at a bullet lodged in Mulder's right shoulder. "I hope you weren't real attached to this shirt," Scully murmured through pursed lips, and began tearing it into strips. "Is that the only place he shot you?" "No..." Mulder whispered, gritting his teeth in pain as she pressed the cloth against his shoulder. "My side..." He rolled stiffly onto his left side, revealing another wound on his back, several inches to the right of his spine. Scully took it all in. "I think you're gonna be okay, Mulder--" "Tell that to my nerves," he muttered, smiling faintly. "--As long as we can get you to the hospital," Scully continued, doctor-style. "No hospitals, Scully...the first place they'd look." Scully sighed wearily. "We have no choice, Mulder. We can't stay here, and you need a hospital." Mulder closed his eyes, obviously drained. "Whatever you say, Dr. Scully," he said, half-asleep. Scully had finished wrapping his shoulder when she saw the approaching military jeeps. Starting up the car, she slammed the accelerator and swerved onto the main road, the two vehicles coming up the road behind her. ((I'm being chased in the same direction the hospital is in,)) she thought. But to Scully's surprise, the jeeps turned in to the motel and parked. Watching in her rearview mirror, she saw eight white- clad figures leap out of the cars and begin hosing the area with a reddish-brown spray. Scully sighed in uncertainty and filed this new information away for later. Apprehensively checking the Camry's back window to ensure the bee hadn't moved, Scully picked up her cell phone and dialed the number for the Lone Gunmen. "Lone Gunmen," Byers answered in a professional voice. "Byers, turn off the tape; it's Scully." There was a small series of clicks. "Hey, Scully, " Byers greeted pleasantly. "How's Mulder?" "He's been shot," Scully said abruptly. "What?? Is he okay?" "It's because of this case we're working on. Byers, I need you to get me some information." "Well...what do you need to know?" Byers asked, still sounding concerned. "I need you guys to find any information you can on a Phillip Kahn, Robert Harris, or a company called Nature's Best. This is *very important.* Are we clear?" "Gotcha. We'll call you back as soon as we find something." Eyeing the bee on the back window, Scully slid her cellular back into her pocket and drove. ========================= Jacksonville Hospital 5:57 p.m. ========================= "I need some information on a person who was brought in here a few hours ago," Scully announced to the desk nurse, flashing her ID. "Name?" she asked crisply, flipping through the few file folders on the desk. "Mulder -- Fox Mulder." "Multiple gunshot?" Scully's breath caught. Quickly forcing herself back to a professional demeanor, she acknowledged, "Yes. I need to know what room he's in." The nurse consulted her file, then glanced up. "112." "Thanks." Scully turned and strode quickly down the hall. Coming to Mulder's room, she paused a second, collecting herself, and then turned the handle and eased the door open. Relieved to see Mulder still in his bed ((you're as paranoid as he is, Dana)), Scully pulled the hard plastic chair up to the side of his bed and picked up a Reader's Digest that was lying on the side table as she waited for him to come to. She had just finished reading "All in a Day's Work" and was smiling wryly at the name when her cellular rang. "Scully." "Scully, it's Langly." "Did you find anything?" she asked eagerly and quietly, standing up. "Nothing so far on either Phillip Kahn or Robert Harris, but I think we've got something on that company you gave us. Nature's Best. It allegedly produces corn products -- oil, that sort of thing, right?" "That's right." "We haven't been able to find much of anything about them through public channels -- nothing on them on the Internet, promotionals or ads for their products, or national distributors of foodstuffs. The only thing we found that was available to the general public was a few scattered employment offers. In newspapers, mostly. I think a commercial even ran on TV in some places during a late timeslot. But you won't believe what we found...unofficially." "What?" "Various government charters transacting business with a certain government-owned company. Guess who the company was. Nature's Best had signed to transport something referred to as 'the product' to and from various locations worldwide. And get this -- this international company, that should've taken years to establish itself even nationally, was only founded in 1996." "What?" Scully asked incredulously. "That's all we were able to find," Langly continued, pleased at such a favorable reaction. "But like I said, we haven't even looked into those two guys you gave us." "No, no...this is fantastic...thanks, Langly." "Don't mention it...and Scully?" "Yeah?" "Tell Mulder 'hey' from all of us...and we hope he's O.K." "All right. Thanks." Scully flipped her phone off and slapped it down on the table, her mind working furiously over what Langly had said. She settled back in the chair and tried to get comfortable, prepared to wait for her partner. ========================= Monday, August 16 8:31 a.m. ========================= Dana Scully had not slept a wink. Totally preoccupied in watching over Mulder and trying to understand the strange events of the previous day, she hadn't yet missed the sleep. Not to mention that anxiety for her partner made it difficult to keep her eyes closed for longer than two minutes together. Mulder stirred. "Mulder?" Scully scooted the chair over to the bed and looked at him closely. "Mulder? Are you awake?" He lay motionless for a few seconds as Scully began stroking the side of his face with her hand. Then his eyes eased open, staring blankly before focusing on her face. She smiled gently. "Hey." "Oh Scully...you have no idea how much better it is to wake up to your face than theirs..." Mulder slurred. She blinked, then remembered the summer and smiled. He tried to sit up, then moaned and collapsed back on the bed. "Don't try to sit up, Mulder," she cautioned. "Do you remember what happened?" Frowning, Mulder thought back. "Last thing I remember is a man in a white suit aiming a gun at me." "I guess you decided it was better to get away from them...even if it meant getting shot." Mulder smiled. "Or maybe I just didn't want to lose you again." Unsure of what to say, Scully smoothed his hair away from his forehead and plunged into the business at hand. "Mulder, I talked to Langly. It seems that Nature's Best doesn't even exist as a food company; apparently it's government-owned and was only founded in 1996. And they dug up government documents referring to transactions with Nature's Best, who had agreed to internationally transport something they called 'the product'." Mulder propped himself up on his elbows. "That's it, Scully. 'The product' -- it's the virus. That's why the company was created. To transport it." She nodded. "I think so too, Mulder." Then she was quiet, lost in troubling thoughts. "Mulder...you realize what this means, don't you?" His brow furrowed. Scully took a deep breath. "It means you were right, Mulder. About everything. The aliens, the abductions, the bees, the black oil.... The time is near. They've gotten to the point where they need this thing to be transported worldwide. They're preparing. For a global invasion." Mulder's eyes widened in comprehension. Then he nodded slowly, the truth of her words sinking in. "So...now what?" "Well...we should get over to the Nature's Best office with a search warrant. And I'd like to find out the name of the friend that Rob Harris was going to see so we can question him." He sat up and started to swing his legs out of bed. "No, Mulder. You need to lie back and take it easy." "I'll be okay," he assured her, wincing slightly as he tried to stand. He walked over to the other side of the bed where his clothes were folded up and picked up his slacks. "Mulder, get back in bed." "Look at me, Scully. I'm fine; I've had worse," he maintained, pulling on his pants. "You can't even put weight on your right side without flinching. You need to be in bed," Scully insisted, knowing it was pointless to argue. Mulder looked at her closely. "You've been here all night, haven't you? Did you get *any* sleep?" She looked him directly in the eye. "I didn't want anything to happen to you." "You're the one who needs to be in bed, not me." Mulder slid the hospital gown off over his head and wriggled into his bloody shirt, cringing as it brushed against the white bandages. "Mulder...." Suddenly Mulder laughed. "Listen to us, Scully. We both should be resting right now but neither of us wants to admit it...or lose time on this case." She looked indignant for a second, then smiled. "Let's just go." He nodded and slung his jacket over his back, sticking his service weapon into the holster. The two stood to leave the room, his arm encircling her shoulder. Then Scully's cell phone rang. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the phone, stepping slightly away from Mulder as she answered. "Scully." There was silence, and then "Sir?" Scully asked, confused, as Mulder stiffened beside her. "What??" Mulder turned apprehensively to face her. She glanced up at him as he mouthed 'what?'. She looked about to reply when something on the other end of the phone caught her full attention. "What evidence?" Scully demanded incredulously, distrust obvious in her tone. Silence, and then, "Classified? This was *our* case--" She stared rebelliously into space for a minute as the person on the other line spoke. "Yes." She flipped the cellular off and stood, taken aback at the news. Mulder waited, knowing she would explain when she could collect her thoughts. After a minute, and still staring at some imaginary point on the wall, Scully spoke. Her voice sounded distant as she related what had been said. "That was A.D. Kersh. He said that they've found new evidence," she began, still stunned. "Evidence proving that Robert Harris died of natural causes. He wouldn't tell me what it was. Said it was...classified." She laughed quietly, contempt and anger sliding through her voice. "Anyway, they've closed the case; we are no longer here in official capacity and he wants to see us back in D.C. immediately," she finished, her quiet, measured tones belying the turmoil that showed on her face. Dismayed, Mulder stood, motionless for a moment. Then he leaned close to Scully, whispering, "They must have bugged the room, Scully. They've been watching us -- monitoring our progress. We've gotten too close to something, and I am not *about* to let them take us off of it. And then when they heard you telling me what he said, they had Kersh call us to close the case. They've been keeping tabs on us the whole time." "But...why give us the case in the first place?" "I don't know. Maybe someone slipped up somewhere, or maybe someone somewhere is trying to help us...I don't know. But they know now that we've seen too much, and they'll do anything they can to make sure that we're taken off the assignment -- one way or another...that this case does *not* go on record." Surprised at how much this made sense to her, Scully asked quietly, "So where do we go, Mulder? What happens now? If this is true, we're not safe anywhere...except off the case. Not to mention that they'll never let us have a search warrant for a case that's supposed to be closed." She trailed off and sat back down in the chair by the bed, staring at the door absent-mindedly as she searched her mind for a solution. Mentally going over everything they had found out, Mulder suddenly remembered something. "Officer Kelley." Scully glanced up from her contemplative daze, questioningly interested. "Down at the police station. We can call him...see what's going on down there." He fished his phone out from his jacket pocket and dialed the operator, and then from there called the police station. "Hello, this is Agent Fox Mulder, from the F.B.I. I'd like to speak with Officer Kelley, please. Agent *Mulder.*" He waited for a moment, and then, "Officer Kelley? Yeah, this is Agent Mulder; we spoke briefly Saturday evening...yeah that's right. Listen, I need to know what you turned up that showed that Rob Harris died from natural causes." There was a long pause, then Mulder nodded. "Thanks." "What'd he say?" Scully asked as Mulder hung up. "He said they had declared that he died from cardiac arrest," Mulder informed her, skepticism showing on his face. "What?" Scully cried. "That's virtually impossible, Mulder. Harris's medical file showed that the ECG had come back negative." Mulder took a breath. "That wasn't all he said, Scully. He said...not to call again. He said that a man had come in and told the police department not to give us any more information...that we were here illegally. No one believed him at first, until he took the chief of police aside into an office and spoke with him for a few minutes. When the chief came out he gave everyone strict instructions not to help us, and to notify him if we called." He shoved his phone into his pocket and went to pick up his jacket. "Then he hung up. I think he was trying to warn me but just didn't know how." Scully looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue. He sighed, and looked her straight in the eyes. "Scully, we have to give up the case." As he spoke, he silently motioned her over to the thin notepad lying on the table beside his bed. Hurriedly, he scrawled a short message on the piece of paper, then held it up before her eyes. 'They may be listening.' Her eyebrows went up minutely, then she nodded and took the paper and pen. 'We can't stay here anymore' she scribbled as she said "I think you're right, Mulder. As soon as possible." Mulder took the paper and jotted down three letters, then handed it to Scully. Her eyes widened, then she nodded, and without a word, walked into the bathroom. A ripping sound was faintly audible, and then the toilet flushed and Scully emerged, hands empty. "Let's go." ========================= Somewhere in Virginia 10:10 a.m. ========================= Tendrils of pale grey smoke curled like long skeletal fingers in the darkness of the room. Light came in tentatively through small windows but was filtered through nearly shut blinds. No one turned on a lamp. The darkness was preferable to those present. A man, face veiled in shadows, stood in the middle of the room. Several others stood around him, silent and motionless. His eyes met those of a tall man with white hair. The tall man spoke. "There is a problem." The first man drew nearer. "Yes?" The tall man strode to the small television that had been placed on an end table and pressed a button. The screen flicked on. It was footage from a security camera. The first man came closer. "Our operatives recorded this from a camera inside the hospital," the tall man stated. "We were able to pull this from it." He handed the first man a printed image, a clarified and sharpened still from the footage. It showed a man and a woman standing near a table, with a piece of paper between them on the table. The writing on the paper had been circled. The first man squinted at the three letters on the paper. "L. G. M." He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. "They're going to Washington." ========================= 8:49 p.m. ========================= Mulder drove quickly along the interstate, looking for a motel. Scully lay catching up on some much-needed sleep in the passenger seat next to him, her breathing a quiet reassurance of her presence. He looked down at her. A compulsion to protect her from harm had arisen in Mulder ever since her abduction; her cancer had only made it stronger. He had never been able to completely rid himself of the feeling that everything that had happened to the two of them, to their families and friends, had been more than partly his fault. And though he knew that Scully supported him and didn't blame him for anything that had happened at the hands of the Syndicate, he felt none of it would have happened had they not been investigating X-files. And more than that, he felt responsible for Scully. She would be the last person to ever say that she needed his protection from anything, but his inclination and instinct toward paranormal cases gave him a better understanding of what they might face. He admired and respected Scully for being willing to give it her all even though she didn't share the majority of his beliefs. And...he loved her. With all of his heart. So he watched over her now, knowing he was prepared to die for her if necessary. She had told him about the bee in their car as they were leaving the hospital. It was hard for her to admit how afraid she really was, Mulder knew. He had killed the bee without much trouble and had turned around to see her standing there, trembling slightly and very pale. She had slid into the car and tried desperately to stay awake, but Mulder knew he could never understand how much the events of the previous day had affected her. They had never spoken much about what happened to her that day last summer, but still they knew neither of them would be the same. Again he looked down at her. She was so beautiful, especially sleeping. She looked so completely at peace, so childlike in her tranquility, so untouched by the evil in the world. When she was awake, Mulder was aware of a constant effort on her part to keep the mask of cool, detached, professionalism unwavering. Before this case, he had only seen it break down on occasion. Her sister's death. The letters never meant to be read, written during her darkest moments. The Donnie Pfaster case. Eddie Van Blundht. But now, their relationship had shifted. Subtly. While neither of them thought that their relationship was lacking in anything, there was something different now than there was before. It was moving past a professional relationship, past friendship, and into love. Scully's veil of untouchable calm was coming down more and more often. The air had finally been cleared of so many unsaid thoughts and feelings that had been so heavy before, and the release Mulder felt was palpable. Their friendship had just been waiting for it to happen. They finally now realized this. They were soul mates. Just then, they passed a sign -- "Motel 6 -- next exit." Mulder leaned over and reluctantly nudged Scully awake. "Hey, Scully...Motel 6 sound good?" She sat up, looking faintly disoriented for a second; then she blinked and her vision cleared. "Sure..." she mumbled, and sat up sleepily, straightening her seatbelt. "What time is it?" Mulder checked his watch. "Ten." Seeing her surprise, he added, "You needed the sleep." She nodded slowly and sat up straighter. ========================= Room 124 Motel 6 10:23 p.m. ========================= "Are you sure? I mean, I'd be glad to --" "Mulder. You've been driving for eleven hours. You need your sleep." Scully insisted mildly with her hands on her hips. He sighed in reluctant but thankful surrender and crawled into the little motel bed. They had asked for a single room with two beds since they were only going to be there for a few hours. Scully had been adamant on taking first watch. She strode into the bathroom and flipped the light off, then walked over to Mulder's bed. "Sleep tight," she whispered softly. The image of his sleepy, smiling face was imprinted on her retina as she twisted the switch on the light by his bed. Surrounded now in complete darkness, Scully made her way to the chair by the large window and sat, cracking open the blinds just enough to see the parking lot. She had three hours to watch. ========================= 1:43 a.m. ========================= "Mulder?" a tired Scully whispered, softly shaking him awake. "Mulder? It's quarter till two." He blinked, then rolled out of bed, standing slowly up. "Anything happen while I was asleep?" She walked back across the room and shook her head, conveying with the simple gesture the apprehension that had plagued her throughout the night. Mulder smiled with tender sympathy. He had always lived with the paranoia; she was only beginning to understand that it -- all of it -- was real. Fully awake now, he walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her compassionately. She sighed and leaned her head against his arm, allowing her stress to slowly dissolve while she fuzzily considered spending the night in his arms. Then she opened her eyes -- and saw the point of a laser tracing a path to the center of Mulder's chest. "Mulder! Get down!" she cried, adrenaline snapping her awake. Hitting the floor next to Scully without a thought, Mulder looked up to see a bullet shatter the glass and bury itself in the wall directly behind where Mulder had been standing. Scully rolled to the dresser and snatched up her weapon. She ran to the door and looked out the peephole, then threw the door open. Mulder joined her with his gun, and the two walked cautiously out, guns cocked, only to see a black sedan with tinted windows -- that hadn't been there before -- pull out of the space directly in front of the door to their room and drive scornfully away. Both sensing the absence of the immediate threat, they slipped quickly back into the room and bolted the door. Scully began methodically closing the blinds as Mulder sat slowly down on the bed, his head in his hands. He was silent, thinking. He couldn't believe things had happened so fast; Sunday had been their only full day on the case. He could practically smell the cigarette smoke; the Consortium -- what was left of them at least -- had worked fast. Although Mulder had known deep down that the day would come where the two of them had to disappear, he'd never been forced to think about it. Now, with such an obvious threat on both of their lives, and such a crucial case to solve, he knew the time had come. "Now what do we do, Scully?" He looked up and met her gaze, his face showing the frustration and quiet anger he knew they both felt. "What just happened was a warning. Next time we won't get the time to duck." She walked over and sat on the bed next to him, then began stroking his back softly, taking her turn to comfort her partner. They remained there for several minutes, both taking solace in the presence of the other. Reluctant to break the quiet but feeling the need to ask, Mulder took a deep breath and said, haltingly, "Scully, if you want to give up the case...I mean -- I'll understand." She looked up quickly, taken aback at his words. "Mulder, I know you may feel...responsible for this, but I'm here because I want to be. And I'm in this just as much as you are." He watched her closely. "You have to realize this -- staying on this case will probably mean getting a...a false ID, and changing the plates on the car, and...dyeing your hair," he murmured, grimacing at the last as he gently entwined his fingers in her smooth red hair. "We'll be...disappearing, going into hiding. You know that." She looked him straight in the eye. "Mulder, I *will do* whatever I have to." He smiled, trust and love surfacing on his troubled face. "Thank you, Scully. I -- you have no idea how much this means to me." She smiled back, standing up. He stood as well, looking deeply into her eyes, then murmured, forcefully, "Thank you." They left right then, with Mulder driving. They had five hours left to get where they were going. The Lone Gunmen. ========================= Office of the Lone Gunmen Tuesday, August 17 5:17 a.m. ========================= Mulder waited impatiently as the ten or fifteen different locks slid out of place. "Hurry up, Frohike," he called edgily, staring deliberately at the security camera that was trained on the door. Finally the door opened, and Frohike peeked out, warily ensuring -- in spite of the camera -- the identity of the two at the door. "The mighty warrior and his little..." Trailing off and seeing the sharp looks on their faces, Frohike contented himself with "...Hey, you two." Scully shot him one last Look, and they edged inside. Byers and Langly sat hunched over the computer, Byers looking up when Mulder and Scully came in. "How are you feeling, Mulder?" Byers asked, sizing him up as if trying to see where exactly he had been shot. "I'm okay," he informed him, "But that may not last for long if Scully and I can't find somewhere to hide so we can solve this case. Whatever you've been doing, it better be good." Obviously curious, all of the Gunmen were paranoid enough not to ask and contented themselves with cryptic glances at each other. Mulder watched all this with hidden amusement until Frohike said, "Oh, it's good." The confidence in his voice was impossible to miss. "Take a look for yourselves." Mulder and Scully walked over to the computer to see for themselves. "Almost done," Langly reported. Byers stood up. "We've entered the names into all national databases, and gave you both medical files, addresses, work information...the usual. Now we're just formatting the drivers licenses." "Can you alter those photos?" Mulder asked, pointing to the screen. Langly looked up, curious. "Sure...what do you want us to do?" "Okay...give me glasses like these," Mulder said, pulling a pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses out of his jacket pocket. Langly nodded and tapped out several commands on the keyboard. "Anything else?" "Yeah...try this on for size." Mulder removed a box of women's hair color from his pocket. Langly's eyes widened slightly as he looked from the box to Scully, then back to the box. "Okay, you got it." He fiddled some more with the mouse and then, "How's that?" Scully looked. On the screen was a picture of her -- with dark brown hair. She squinted. It *was* very well done. "Nice work." The IDs printed out and Frohike laminated them, then handed them to the agents. "There ya go...Mark and Silvia Ryder. Enjoy." "Thanks," Mulder said absently, staring at the IDs. Then he glanced up. "Did you get those plates registered?" "Yup," Langly confirmed, walking to a metal cabinet and pulling out a set of license plates. "Don't even ask how we got these," Byers editorialized, "but we got them. And don't worry -- they're registered, and they weren't taken off a car." Mulder didn't ask and took the plates from Byers. "Thanks," Scully said in genuine gratitude. "Did you get anything else on those names we gave you?" "Nothing." Scully arched her eyebrow in surprise. "But we'll keep looking and call you as soon as we find anything." Langly finished hurriedly. She nodded, her eyes holding a distant look as she resigned herself to their words. Then a sudden thought brought her back to reality. "Come on, Mulder, we have to go," she murmured, squeezing his hand. "Thanks again, guys," Mulder said, walking with Scully toward the door. "Don't mention it," Byers called. "I'm going back to bed..." Langly remarked, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. "Hey Scully..." Frohike called. She turned. "I'll miss your hair." Not knowing what to say, she blinked, then said "Thanks" quietly, more for the help than for the compliment. The door closed, and Scully listened for the first time as the locks slid back into place. It was odd, knowing that a little thing like that could so affect her. But the locks on the door only reinforced her feeling of shutting the door on her life. For as long as it took to solve this case, anyway, she was disappearing from the world that had been her life. She was alone. Except for Mulder. She had always counted on the assurance that no matter what, he would always be there. They were all they had left now. But that thought wasn't as horrible as Scully would've imagined it to be. As it would've been four years ago. "Scully?" Mulder's quiet voice broke through her thoughts. She looked up as her eyes came to focus on his face. He watched her tenderly, concern highlighting his features. She looked down again and let out a ragged sigh. Then she saw his hand, stretched out to meet hers. She looked up to see his face, smiling at her in support and understanding. Scully took Mulder's hand and their eyes met. Without a word, the two walked together to the car -- and their new identity. Title - Kismet (2/3) Author - Jaimee Kidder ========================= A.D. Skinner's office 7:36 p.m. ========================= The phone rang. Assistant Director Walter Skinner stared at it meditatively, wondering if the world as he knew it would end if he just smashed the idiotic thing to bits. Nah. He'd probably just wind up in a mental institution. The phone rang again. Mentally cursing Alexander Graham Bell, Skinner picked up the receiver. "Skinner." "Sir, it's Scully." As if that explained the purpose of the call. "What is it, Agent Scully?" "It's Agent Mulder." Skinner sat up straighter, picking up on a barely concealed panic that underlined Scully's quiet tone. She took a breath and went on. "We've been on this case --" "The murder...the one in Alabama." "That's right. Yesterday, we received a call from Assistant Director Kersh. He informed us that the case had been closed and that we should report back to the Bureau as soon as possible." "Go on," Skinner directed, wondering anxiously where this was heading. "Agent Mulder...strongly felt that the case had been mishandled, and that it was a cover-up for a greater purpose. I had begun to agree with him...in fact, that belief was strengthened by several attempts on both of our lives. "But somewhere between Alabama and here, something happened. To Agent Mulder. He's been talking strangely, and has nearly run off the road -- intentionally, I believe. He threatened me with bodily harm not an hour ago." Skinner stood up. "Where are you both now, Agent Scully?" "Roanoke...the Days Inn right off of Interstate 81. Exit 146. Please get here as soon as you can, sir. There's a lake about a mile away...he keeps talking about it...saying he want to drive straight to hell." Skinner's breath caught. "Where is Agent Mulder?" "Taking a shower. I thought this would be a good time to call you." Only then did Skinner notice that Scully had been speaking unusually quietly during their conversation. "All right, Scully, I'll be there as soon --" The sound of a door crashing open was clearly audible over the phone. "Mulder --" Scully's cell phone dropped to the carpet with a soft thud. "Scully! Agent Scully! What's going on?" "Mulder! Let me go!" "Who you talkin' to? Huh?" "I don't know what you're talking ab--" The rest was cut off as Scully gasped. "Maybe talking to Kersh? Tellin' him all about our case? *My* case?" "Mulder, we need to get you to a hospital...please...let me go..." "Agent Mulder!" "Let...me...go!" More struggling sounds could be heard plainly over the phone. Skinner was unable to move as he pressed the receiver to his unbelieving ear. Then there was a hard thud against a wall and the sound of a punch. Mulder moaned angrily. "Sir! I need help!" Running footsteps and the sound of drawers being frantically opened, then Scully's voice again, screaming incredulously, with angry tears obvious in her voice, "My gun! Mulder, you took my gun!" Click. Scully was unable to stifle a sob. Then, "Mulder, put it down." Slowly, calmly, the way she learned at Quantico. The part of Skinner's mind that wasn't thinking about the danger she was in held admiration for Scully. Another punch, this one harder, and the sound of someone collapsing on the floor. Scully howled in pain, her voice close to where the phone lay on the floor. She was furious now. "Put the gun down! Mulder, drop it! *Now,* you son of a --" A gunshot. A cry of pain ripped through the phone. Heavy footsteps were becoming more and more audible. Then a crunching sound, and the line went dead. Skinner remained standing, stunned out of all capability to move. Then, snapped out of his horrified trance, Skinner slammed the phone into the cradle and threw the office door open. His secretary looked up, surprised. "Kimberly! Get on the phone!" ========================= 10:47 p.m. Days Inn Roanoke ========================= The door on motel room 116 burst open and a team of FBI agents swarmed in. Skinner came in last, unwilling to admit to himself that he was afraid. His fears were more than justified. The scene that met his eyes looked like any one of the hundreds of violent crime cases he'd handled. But this one was different. Working on so many horrific cases bred a sort of survival instinct -- learning to detach oneself from the cases and deal with them in a cool, professional manner. That ability was the only thing that kept Skinner from leaving the room. Forcing himself to view each detail in the room as though he was looking at a series of crime scene photographs, he walked slowly through the doorway and into the room. Two broken lamps. The shower curtain and bathroom door hanging open and a fist- sized dent in the wall where the doorknob had smashed against it. Watery footprints leading from the bathroom in long, purposeful strides. Wrinkled, disheveled twin beds that looked like they had been jumped on a couple of times by a two-year-old. All the drawers in the cabinet yanked open and hanging ajar, with the few contents scattered on the floor. A dried pool of blood on the floor near the dresser with a trail leading out the door to the parking lot. A crushed cell phone, lying where it had been dropped on the floor. Skinner could only imagine what had happened, but he couldn't imagine why in his wildest nightmare. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully not to remember the scene as it had unfolded over the phone. "Sir! We've found a trail!" Skinner pulled himself up and followed the agent out the door and into a car, tiredly resigned to listening to the endless torrent of information. "It was a...'98 Camry. Beige. Judging by the marks in the dust, we figure your guy dragged her out to the car. Now you said the guy had mentioned something about the nearby lake. The road leading to Carvins Cove Reservoir, a few minutes away, was the first place we checked. And we got lucky. Good thing your guy's a predictable psycho," he chuckled. "Understand one thing," Skinner exploded quietly. "This is not a game; it is a case. And their names are Agent Mulder and Agent Scully. You will refer to them as such. Is this clear?" The agent nodded, slightly confused but unfazed. "Anyway, we found tire tracks at the end of this road, and...well, you can see for yourself." They parked at the end of the road. Skinner quickly got out of the car and stood up. Clearly visible in the tall, weedy grass were tire tracks. He stared for a second at the tracks, then followed them the remaining 100 yards or so to the shore, hoping as he ran that maybe he would find the car parked somewhere in the grass. Finally he reached the shore and stopped cold. The tire tracks went completely into the lake. Skinner was unable to do anything but stand there, staring blankly into the quiet water. ========================= A.D. Skinner's office Thursday, August 19 12:52 p.m. ========================= Skinner sat at his desk, going over the agent's preliminary report for the thousandth time. It took all his effort to maintain a professional attitude towards the case. Flipping back to the first page of the report, he began to read through it again. The report was fairly thorough. It listed possible scenarios for what had happened that night, possible motivations for the suspect, and a recommended course of action. It was confirmed by forensics that the blood on the carpet in the room did indeed belong to Agent Scully. The car had not been found yet. As denial faded and hopelessness set in, Skinner flicked the report closed and sighed. ========================= Margaret Scully's residence 1:32 p.m. ========================= Maggie Scully wandered into her bedroom with a steaming cup of tea and glanced out the window. She loved storms, especially on days when there was nothing to do and she could curl up in bed with a book and something warm to drink -- exactly what she was planning on doing now. She hopped onto the big comfy bed and leaned against the chubby pillows, just enjoying listening to the sound of the rain and the occasional rumble of distant thunder. After a minute, she realized that the wind was picking up and the thunder was getting louder. She picked up the remote control and flicked on the television, checking to see if the news had anything to say about the storm. A perky reporter was talking. "...current trends are expected to continue well into the coming year." The camera cut back to the studio. The anchorwoman looked back at the camera as a small video box with a picture of a woman popped up in the upper right corner of the screen. Maggie squinted at it, gathering her blanket closer around her shoulders. Then her eyes widened and she gasped involuntarily as she suddenly recognized the face on the screen. "Dana?" Fear chilling her blood, she sat up, unable to move any farther. "Meanwhile, there are no current leads in the investigation into the abduction and possible murder of F.B.I. Special Agent Dana Scully." Maggie sat, paralyzed, powerless to take her eyes off the TV screen. ========================= Econo Lodge Room 1124 Richmond, Virginia 1:33 p.m. ========================= Mulder walked to the TV and turned it up. "Hey Scully, look at this." "Meanwhile, there are no current leads in the investigation into the abduction and possible murder of F.B.I. Special Agent Dana Scully." Scully walked into the room holding a towel in one hand. She ran the towel through her drying hair and sat down on the bed as the anchorwoman continued to talk. "...received this alarming phone call yesterday evening." A fuzzy recording of Scully's call to Skinner began to play. "Sir! I need help!" as footsteps pounded across the floor. Drawers pulled hastily open. "My gun! Mulder, you took my gun!" A hammer cocking. "Mulder, put it down. Put the gun down! Mulder, drop it! *Now,* you son of a --" The shot split the air. The anchorwoman looked back at the camera. "Dana Scully's partner-turned-assailant, Special Agent Fox Mulder, is believed to have shot and possibly murdered her. The car the agents were driving was found missing with tire tracks leading into a nearby lake. The Justice Department is doing everything they can to locate the two agents, but it doesn't look hopeful." Mulder turned around and grinned at Scully. "Not a bad piece of work, if I do say so myself." She was silent, deep in thought. "I never knew you were such a good actress, Scully," Mulder continued. She glanced up and smiled. "It was easy when you make such a good psychopath." He chuckled, then sat down on the bed next to her. "You okay?" She nodded. He looked at her for another moment and began thinking about what had happened. It had been a relatively easy matter to fake their disappearance. Since both were F.B.I. agents and Scully was a doctor, they were able to get some of her blood drawn quickly and without any questions. After that, they found a used car lot and bought an old Buick, and purchased a new cell phone for Scully. From there it was just a matter of putting the plates on the Buick and finding a motel room near a lake. He had come up with the idea. He was also the one who suggested the idea of going crazy and assaulting Scully. He knew, with a sad certainty, that it was a story that everyone would believe. It was certainly strange to have to act out such a horrible scene. Mulder still wasn't sure how he felt about it. They knew that they shouldn't tell anyone that the two of them were still alive. They hadn't even told the Gunmen. Mulder couldn't help but wonder how everyone was taking it. No doubt many of his colleagues were smugly thinking they knew he was crazy all along. They were staying at a hotel for as long as it took to find a cheap apartment where the owner wouldn't recognize them -- or care if he did. The downside of faking a crime was that their pictures had been shown on local news broadcasts all across the country -- and especially in the Virginia area, since that was where the crime had supposedly taken place. Neither Mulder nor Scully were sure how much publicity the case would get, and too much attention by the media could make their lives very difficult. But they weren't going to give up now. He glanced over at her. She was staring absently at the television, probably thinking about the same things as he was. Feeling the need to break the tension that had settled over them both, he touched her arm. She looked up and he smiled, taking a strand of damp hair in his fingers. "Hey, you have to see your hair." She paused and then laughed, suddenly. "Mulder..." "What?" "I can't..." "'Course you can. Come on." He took her arm and pulled her off the bed. She went reluctantly to the mirror and looked at the face that met her there. There she was, with slightly damp dark brown hair. It was like looking at a different person. She was speechless. Mulder smiled and rested his chin on her head, looking at her disbelieving face in the mirror. "Lookin' good, Agent Scully," he murmured. She smiled distractedly and touched her hair. Suddenly breaking out of her shocked daze, Scully turned away from the mirror and walked to the closed laptop sitting on the table. Mulder followed her to the table and stood next to her. "Any ideas on how we're going to track down any information when *they* couldn't find anything?" "Come on, Mulder...the guys may be good, but they weren't there. You and I know what to look for." He nodded and they switched on the computer. As the laptop warmed up, Mulder looked at Scully. "Scully, I'm sorry for everything this has put you through. I know --" Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. "Mulder! Stop apologizing!" Startled, Mulder felt his eyes widen in surprise at the sudden outburst. She sighed and continued, quieter this time. "I know it won't be easy, Mulder, but I'm prepared for that. I want you to know --" she put her hand over his larger one and squeezed it gently, "-- that I'm in this with you, and I'm not going anywhere." She paused with a sad light in her eyes. "I thought you knew that I'm not the type to run off on you like that, Mulder. I thought you trusted me more than that." Mulder thought the look in her eyes would break his heart. Forcing the words to come, he opened his mouth. "I know, Scully...I know you. I know you wouldn't leave me in this by myself. I just...so many people have betrayed me -- people whom I trusted -- and I can't stop myself from thinking that maybe they were right, and that I should give you every chance to get as far away from me as you can. And I know that you're putting your life at risk by sticking by me, and I don't want to see you die." She looked deeply into his eyes, her gaze penetrating to his heart. "Mulder, if I didn't want to be here, with you, I wouldn't be. I would have found a way out -- a reassignment, anything -- years ago. But I'm not just tagging along for the ride, Mulder. Your quest has become mine as well. I want to find the truth just as much as you. And I won't run out on you. I promise you that." He stared at her blankly for a second, her words taking time to break through to his heart. Then a grin flooded his features and he reached over and put his arm around her shoulder. "Come here." She conceded willingly as he gave her the biggest hug he'd given anyone in a long time. He sighed contentedly. " I love you, Scully." She leaned against him, letting all her tension flood out of her as she met his embrace, assuring him gently, "I love you too, Mulder." They held each other for many minutes, simply enjoying the presence of the other. Finally, Scully stirred and Mulder released her reluctantly from his arms. Without a word, they sat at the table in front of the laptop, preparing to get down to business. "Hey, Scully, I just remembered something." She looked up, her eyes inviting him to continue. "Remember how you found out that Rob Harris was going to see a friend the day he died? We were going to find out his name and question him about those files that Harris left over there." "Do you think the friend might have had something to do with Harris's death?" "Mrs. Harris said they worked for the same company, right? So maybe this friend wasn't a friend at all; maybe he saw the research Harris was doing and thought it was enough to have him killed." "Mrs. Harris did mention that her husband had been researching a product they had been shipping." Mulder's eyes lit up the way they always did when he was rolling with a theory. "What if it was the virus? What if Rob Harris found out about the company's secret transactions with the government and thought it was strange? He was probably researching it, found out a little too much, and someone wanted to make sure no one else found out what he knew." "But what did he find out from his research? How much did he learn on his own before telling the friend? Mulder, he could have found out more than we have," Scully finished, looking apprehensive and eager at the same time. He stared at her, assimilating this new idea into his mental web. "Scully, why don't you call Mrs. Harris and see what you can find out about her husband's buddy." "What are you going to do?" "See what I can dig up online." She nodded and pulled out the cell phone they had bought for her. Then she stared at it, suddenly horrified. "Mulder, your old cell phone..." He looked at her, uncomprehending, then blinked as he realized what she meant. Pulling it from his jacket pocket, he walked into the bathroom. He quickly filled the sink, turned the phone on, and dropped it into the water. Then he walked back into the room. "Let's see if I lapse into catatonic schizophrenia now..." he smiled. Scully eyed him, too relieved that the matter was taken care of to smile, and turned her phone on. He turned back to the computer and connected to the Internet, dimly aware of Scully's low voice in the background. "Mrs. Harris? I'm Agent Brown, from the F.B.I. Yes, I know, we're doing everything we can. Well, I've been assigned to wrap your husband's case up. I'm sorry to call you so suddenly like this, but I have some last questions..." Mulder turned his attention to the computer screen again and logged on to his favorite Internet message board to see if any of the paranoid members had gotten wind of the case. Then something on the page made him stop scrolling down the list of topic names and stare unbelievingly at the screen. "Thank you very much for your help, Mrs. Harris. If we hear anything new, we'll let you know." Scully terminated the call and began to recite what the other woman had said. "Mrs. Harris told me that her husband was going to stop by a Brett Silver's house to pick up some files. She told me that her husband hadn't really been complaining to her about work, but he did seem vaguely stressed out over something. She thought he was trying to protect her from whatever the problem was, and she figured he knew what he was doing, so she didn't ask. That's all I..." She trailed off as she saw Mulder glance up for the first time from the screen. "Mulder? Are you listening?" "Scully...look at this." She walked to the computer and bent down to look at the screen. The computer was displaying on its screen the main message list. The mouse cursor was resting on the topic name and author that had so intrigued Mulder. Scully gasped. "Mulder...is that..." Their eyes met. Mulder nodded. "I think so, Scully." Mulder clicked on the link, waiting impatiently for the page to load. Finally the message was displayed on the screen: -------------------------------------------------------------- -- "Starbuck and Ahab" (author: Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow, and Toto) Ha ha ha. Info: PK has a lot in common with the other managers. Two- faced. Uses the position for monitoring progress. All for now. Hope it helps. P.S. what kind of amateurs do you think we are? -------------------------------------------------------------- -- Mulder read and reread the message over several times as Scully did the same. Then he smiled. "No fooling those guys," he muttered. Scully looked up from the screen. "Mulder, it's great that they'll be able to keep in touch with us...but won't this give us away?" "Don't worry," he assured her with confidence born from experience. "Every message on here is every bit as coded, obscure, and cryptic as this one. As long as we don't respond, no one's going to give it a second glance." She was silent, considering the accuracy of his words, and studied the message again. ========================= Police station Four Mile, Alabama ========================= Jake Kelley checked his watch, then leaned forward across his desk. "Hey Joe," he called to the officer at the desk across from him. Joe looked up from his copy of People. "Yeah?" "I'm goin' for my lunch break now. Be back in twenty or so." Joe nodded. Kelley stood and walked back to the back room to pick up his jacket, and Joe went back to the article on Cameron Diaz. Several minutes passed. Joe came to the end of the article and was flipping back to the table of contents when he paused and glanced up. "Yo Jake!" There was no answer. "Kelley?" Silence. Joe stood and leaned over his desk to try and see into the back room. Having no luck with that, he went around the desk and walked curiously to the back room. "Hey Jake? Whatcha doin', man?" Joe rounded the corner and walked into the back room. He looked around. There was the row of coats, the old unused filing cabinets, a bulletin board, -- He glanced down. "Oh, man...Jake! Jake, can you hear me? Jake?!" He knelt on the floor beside Kelley's prone body and felt in vain for a pulse. Looking up helplessly, Joe stared for a moment, his breath coming in heavy, short gasps. Then he jumped up and ripped the phone off the cradle. The paramedics were there within ten minutes and packed Kelley into the ambulance. It took off, siren piercing the still of the afternoon, leaving the police station quietly deserted. No one had noticed the squirming bee lying on its back on the floor. ========================= A.D. Skinner's office 3:27 p.m. ========================= Skinner stood up from his desk, unable to think about the case anymore. Unable to put off any longer the fact that it wasn't just a case. He walked quickly out the adjoining door and rounded the corner, ignoring whatever his secretary was saying. Somehow he thought that if he walked briskly enough and fast enough that maybe he could leave his problems behind, but as he left the office and saw the steady stream of people passing him by in the hall, he couldn't push the thoughts away anymore. In all likelihood, Agents Mulder and Scully would never again be in that crowd of people. Never again walk into his office doing the little act they always did, albeit restrainedly, in his office -- Mulder trying to push his theory into the light of plausibility and Scully standing there with the army of reason and science on her side, gently doing her best to keep Mulder back. Skinner couldn't suppress a wry smile. Rarely had Mulder ever been wrong. And now he had killed himself. And taken Scully with him. It was unthinkable. Suddenly he blinked, and realized he was standing outside his office door staring blankly at the crowded hallway. He sighed and shook himself mentally. It was then that he heard his secretary's insistent and worried calling. He turned around and leaned on the doorframe. "What is it, Kimberly?" "Um...I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but there's a Margaret Scully on line one. She says it's urgent," Kimberly amended, seeing the A.D's face tense. Skinner sighed again. "All right, I'll take it in my office." She nodded and he walked slowly back into the room he had spent countless years of his life growing to hate. Forcing himself to pick up the phone, Skinner reconciled himself to one of the most difficult phone calls he had ever had to make. "Mrs. Scully?" There was a long pause, then a quiet, ragged sob. "Mr. Skinner, *where* is my daughter?" Skinner rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Is there somewhere I can meet you?" ========================= Haad Thai restaurant Washington, D.C. 9:32 p.m. ========================= Skinner looked up as Mrs. Scully hesitantly approached the small booth. Standing, he stretched out his hand in greeting. "Mrs. Scully? Good to see you again." She took his hand, looking at him with remarkable eyes that were striking not as much in their beauty as in the strength behind them. "It's good to see you too," she murmured, sliding in to her side of the booth. Skinner sat as well. Wasting no time, Maggie folded her hands on the table and met Skinner's eyes. "Tell me...everything you know. Please." He exhaled slowly. "I don't know where to begin." "How? I saw the news this afternoon. Do you really think Fox could've done this?" "I don't know. All the evidence tells me otherwise, but...I have this feeling." "He would *never* hurt my Dana. I'm sure of it." Skinner nodded, looking around the room. "I know; I feel the same way." They were quiet, faced with two very familiar possibilities. Which was true? The logical, Bureau-backed scenario, or something vague and improbable -- two people's intuition? Skinner and Maggie sat silently together. They were, for this brief time at least, equals, sharing disbelief mixed with sadness as the night wore on. ========================= Econo Lodge Richmond, Virginia 11:03 p.m. ========================= The news was on again. Scully and Mulder sat besides each other on the floor at the foot of one of the beds watching the news on one of the local stations. Scully glanced over at her partner, who was watching the TV screen absently. She turned her attention to the television. The same anchorwoman that was on in the afternoon was sitting at the news desk. "And now, the latest on the abduction of F.B.I. agent Dana Scully." Scully sat up straighter. "Mulder, look." A video clip of Skinner conversing with reporters had begun to play as the anchorwoman kept talking. "We caught up with Walter Skinner, an Assistant Director at the F.B.I. and the Special Agent in Charge of the case, at a local D.C. restaurant." The camera moved in as Mulder turned to Scully, a look of surprise in his eyes. "I didn't know Skinner was appointed as the SAC in the case." "I didn't know he could be," Scully said in a low voice, also surprised. Then the sound on the video came up, and Skinner's words became audible. "We're really not sure what happened at this point. I can tell you, however, that the agents' car was located earlier this evening in a small lake just north of Roanoke, and there was enough of Agent Scully's blood found in the room and the car to assume that she did not survive." Scully shivered almost imperceptibly but Mulder felt it and looked down at her. She returned his gaze and relaxed against him as he put his arm around her shoulder and held her gently. "Our forensics team also detected Agent's Mulder's blood in the interior of the car, indicating the possibility of a murder-suicide. Neither one of the agents has been found," Skinner finished. Scully heard the video clip fade out and allowed her eyelids to drift closed and her head to drop slowly onto Mulder's chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his quiet breathing. She was completely relaxed. Then she felt him startle. "What is it, Mulder?" she murmured. "Scully, isn't that your mother?" Scully's head came up as her gaze was instantly riveted on the TV. The reporter was still speaking. "We also found Margaret Scully, Dana Scully's mother, at the restaurant with A.D. Skinner. She declined our request for an interview, but she did have this to say." Slowly her mother's words became audible. "I can't deny the facts, but we will continue to hope and pray for my daughter's safe return." There was a lump in Scully's throat as she watched her mother's tear-stained face. She was so strong, always, but Scully knew how hard it was for her, having an F.B.I. agent for a daughter. How every night there was that small part of her mother's mind that wondered as she went to bed whether Scully was safe. Scully closed her eyes and felt Mulder's arm around her, drawing strength by his presence. And as she watched her mother push wearily through the swarm of eager reporters and get into her car, she knew that her decision to search for the truth would be harder than ever. ========================= Somewhere in Virginia 11:31 p.m. ========================= "Is everything going according to plan?" the man asked, his voice commanding respect and demanding an answer. Another man turned to look at the large Mercator-projection map of Earth, stretching across a far wall. Indicating with a small wave of his hand the collection of small colored thumbtacks that littered the surface of the map, he spoke. "We are perfectly on schedule. They will be pleased." The first man walked slowly to the map and stood in front of it, sharp eyes taking note of the thumbtacks' positions and colors. At last he turned to face the other men, silent and waiting. He took out a cigarette and his lighter and flicked the wheel. A flash of flame illuminated a wrinkled, bitter face. His sudden smile struck fear into the hearts of the younger members. "Let it begin." ========================= Friday, August 20 6:54 a.m. ========================= Mulder awoke to find himself in the same position he had been in when he drifted off last night. Sitting -- lying, really - - at the foot of the bed with Scully asleep on his shoulder, he lingered for a while, enjoying the time of peace and restfulness that exists only in the morning. Finally realized he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep, despite the enticingness of the idea, Mulder reached behind him and pulled a large pillow from the bed, then gently shifted Scully's sleeping form to the pillow. She stirred and opened her eyes unfocusedly, mumbling "What happened?" in bleary, faint tones. "Shhhhh...." Mulder whispered, softly brushing her tangled hair back from her face. "Go back to sleep...I'm just going to get some coffee." She nodded as her head dropped back into the pillow. He stood and walked into the bathroom, emerging again in several minutes with his face swathed in white gauze bandages and the small tortoiseshell glasses on. Feeling ridiculous and awkward with the clumsy but necessary disguise, he stood in the bathroom doorway for a few moments, watching Scully curled up on the floor and wondering if he should leave her, asleep and alone and unprotected. Then he shook apprehensive thoughts aside and headed downstairs to the hotel coffee shop. ========================= Scully awoke again a few minutes after Mulder left. She sat up, slightly disoriented, then remembering where she was, she stood up and glanced around to see if Mulder had gone yet. The television was still playing quietly in the background. Scully got up, walked to the small wooden dresser was beginning to get dressed when she heard something on the TV that caught her attention. ========================= Mulder strode into the little coffee shop on the ground floor of the hotel and picked up a Styrofoam cup, forcing himself to ignore the eight or ten people that were scattered around the lobby area drinking coffee or watching the TV that was attached to the corner of the ceiling. He placed the cup under the spigot for coffee and glanced around the lobby, scanning the area for anyone who looked out of place. "Excuse me," a voice spoke up from behind him. Mulder whirled around to see a balding man standing next to him, obviously waiting for his turn at the coffee machine. Mulder half- smiled from sheer relief and moved out of the way, muttering, "Excuse me," as he did so. The man nodded and began filling a cup with decaf. "You live near here?" Mulder's mind went on alert, but he remained pleasant and shook his head. "I'm from Michigan," he told the man. "Oh really? Whereabouts?" "Lansing area," Mulder ad-libbed, getting more suspicious by the minute. The man nodded and looked at his coffee, then picked up a package of Sweet 'n Lo. "What, uh...happened to your face?" he asked, looking Mulder straight in the eye. "Car accident," Mulder said immediately, then wished he hadn't. The man nodded again, sympathetically. "More and more of that these days." Mulder eyed him momentarily. He seemed like just a tourist who was staying in the same hotel and liked to make friendly conversation, not a Syndicate agent. Whether he was or not, he just stood there, silent now, stirring his coffee. Mulder finally decided it was time to leave. "Well, I've got to be heading back to my room now, so--" "Wait a minute," the man said, now looking at the television at the end of the room. He gestured to the screen. "You hear about this?" Mulder glanced up to the TV. ========================= Scully, dressed now, switched the TV off and walked swiftly to the bedside table. Relieved now that she had thought to put Mulder's new number on speed dial, she slid her cell phone off the table and into her palm. ========================= His picture, taken for his F.B.I. badge, was plastered across the screen of the television. Forcing himself to remain calm and stay put until he could leave quickly without attracting attention or suspicion, Mulder watched the Good Morning America news report with the rest of the people in the room. Just then, to his relief, his cell phone rang. "Hello?" Mulder said in what he hoped was a cheery, vacationing tourist voice, glad he had remembered not to answer with "Mulder". "Mulder, you have to come back up to the room. Is the television on down there?" "Hi, honey," he said, for the benefit of the few people around him. "Yeah, that's right." "I'm guessing you're not alone," Scully said, the barest edge of amusement creeping around the edges of her brisk tone. "Can you get back up here without much notice?" "All right, I'm coming right now, sweetheart," he smiled. "Do you want any coffee...maybe a bagel or some orange juice?" "That's good, Mulder. Just come back up as soon as you can." "Okay then. I love you, honey." There was a pause. "I love you too, Mulder." Then the line went dead. Mulder smiled, his first genuine smile since he had come downstairs, and leaned closer to the man. "I got to go now," he said, winking at the man. "She hates to be left alone, if you know what I mean." The man chuckled and Mulder smiled, thankful for the camaraderie between men about the affections of a woman. He slowly backed towards the door. "See you later," he said, raising one hand in farewell. The man nodded and chuckled again. Finally, Mulder was out the door and in the elevator. ========================= Scully glanced up as the door to their room opened and then sighed in relief as Mulder walked tensely through the door and slid the chain lock into place. "Mulder." She stood in the middle of the room, with her hands on her hips, unwilling to let her relief show. "I know, I know. We have to be more careful." His voice tense with stress and frustration, he removed the glasses with one hand and began unwrapping the gauze from his face with the other. "That's not what I was going to say." He glanced up, eyes wide with guarded curiosity. She continued. "Mulder, I think you need to stay here from now on." His mouth opened in protest, but Scully cut him off and went on. "You are, at least to the police, a wanted criminal. Your picture was just put on national television in front of millions of people across the country. Do you know what could happen if just one person recognized you?" He sighed, realizing the truth of her words. She looked him in the eye, and her tone lowered. "No one's expecting to see me, and I probably wouldn't be recognized if I were out by myself. Besides, my picture's not the one they're showing. I know this isn't anything we planned on having to do, but neither of us thought this story would get so much coverage. Mulder," she said gently, putting her hand on his shoulder, "You know I'm right." He nodded slowly and looked up to meet her gaze. "We have to find an apartment as soon as possible." "I know." Mulder closed his eyes. "Scully..." he began, shaking his head in quiet frustration. "Our backs are up against the wall with this. We have no access to any of the F.B.I. facilities, we can't go back to Alabama...we can't respond to the Lone Gunmen's message without attracting attention. I can't even leave our room anymore. How are we going to find the truth when we've trapped ourselves in our own lie?" Scully took his hand and looked up into his face. "We did what we did because we had no choice." Seeing her words were having little effect, she continued insistently. "Mulder, if the date is really set, these people will not let you or me get in the way of their plans. Several attempts were made on both of our lives, and I believe they weren't going to stop until we stopped looking for answers. We could be either willfully ignorant or dead -- or sitting in this hotel room with a reasonable amount of freedom to search for the truth. I've made my choice, and so have you. It won't be easy, but the truth *never is.*" He nodded, reassured by her words. They were silent together for a little while, and then Mulder stood up. "Now what?" She thought for a minute. "All we have to go on is the message from the Lone Gunmen." Mulder's eyes lit up; he was glad to have something new to think about. "Scully, I'll bet that if we went down to another Nature's Best office, you'd see Phillip Kahn sitting behind the desk." Scully's brow furrowed, and finally she gave up. "What are you saying?" "I think they were trying to tell us that all the managers are the same. They're clones, Scully, just like Jeremiah Smith." "So -- wait. If that's true, would they have the same...shape-shifting ability that Jeremiah Smith had?" Mulder sobered. "I hope not, Scully." She looked down, considering the possibilities. After a minute, she stood. "I'm going to go down to the lobby and get a cup of tea." He nodded and switched the computer on. ========================= Scully walked out of the elevator and into the now crowded lobby area, hoping that her confidence would hold. There was a line of about six people for the coffee and hot water machines and she got in it quickly, looking around at the crowds of people out of habit and apprehension. She was dismayed at how paranoid she had become, but realized that their fears were grounded in reality. Which made the fear worse. ((Quite a vicious circle you've gotten yourself into, Dana.)) Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she again looked around at the lobby, seeing it, she hoped, through more rational eyes than before. Tourists were milling about in the foyer, buying maps and travel guides and whatever else would fit in those little fanny packs. The coffee line had narrowed down to four people. There were yellow newspaper dispensers lined up next to the table with the coffee and hot water, and Scully leaned down to read the headline out of curiosity and boredom. The article was an unmemorable piece about some plans the mayor had to donate more park space to the city, but what caught Scully's attention as she glanced at the table of contents was enough to make her eyes widen in alarm. ========================= A balding man stood alone in a desolate corner of the lobby, observing the people -- particularly the woman with the short brown hair by the coffee -- and speaking quickly and quietly to an invisible listener. "I've found them." There was a slight pause. "The Econo Lodge just east of downtown Richmond." A longer pause. The man listened intently. "All right." He stepped away from the wall and walked to the waiting area. Picking up a newspaper, he seated himself in a chair near the small crowd of people and pretended to read, waiting for further instructions from the voices that spoke in his ear. ========================= Mulder had almost finished changing his clothes when the door flew open and Scully was standing in the doorway. He glanced up, surprised and mildly amused. Scully didn't appear to notice, and as Mulder met her gaze, he saw that look in her eyes that he'd seen only once before -- the day last summer that she had told him she was resigning from the Bureau. He felt his blood run cold as he looked into her eyes. She was barely holding back tears. Something serious had happened. "Scully?" She walked into the room and tossed a newspaper down on the bed nearest Mulder. He quickly pulled his pants on and sat down on the bed, picking up the paper. It had been opened to the "News in our Neighborhood" section. Mulder glanced up at Scully, the question in his eyes. Wordlessly, she pointed down to the bottom of the page. The headline read, "Nature's Best to Open Local Office". He looked up sharply. She nodded and whispered, "Read it." Mulder looked down at the paper again and read the brief article to himself. 'There's new hope for the unemployed this fall. Nature's Best, an agricultural company, is opening a huge facility right here in Richmond. They are planning to hire over 500 new Richmond employees. "The company is expanding at such a rapid rate," said Phillip Kahn, the soon-to-be manager of the new Nature's Best office. "We are expecting to more than triple our current facility area and land space." Because of this rapid rate of expansion, Nature's Best will soon be opening hundreds of newly-built offices all over the U.S. and even more than that overseas. The official grand opening is slated for Labor Day.' Stunned, Mulder had to reread the article several times to convince himself of what he had just read. Then he closed his eyes and let the truth hit him like a freight train, the newspaper dropping from his hands and falling to the floor unheeded. They were expanding, the article said. Worldwide expansion. If a Nature's Best facility included any of the things they had seen in that field in north Texas, then Mulder's darkest nightmare probably hadn't come close to what they could be facing. The case in Payson, South Carolina came to Mulder's reeling mind. All those children. All those bees. That was only a test. Labor Day was seventeen days away. A small sob caught his attention. He looked up to see Scully standing in front of him, shoulders slumped in despondency and tears running down her cheeks. He stood up and took her face in his hands, and she leaned against him, her body shaking with quiet sobs. After a minute, she looked up into his eyes, her own filled with tears. "Mulder...it's been so easy for me not to believe. To rationalize, to push the things I don't understand to the back of my head, to stick to the rules of science. And now...I don't know what to believe any more...." He pulled her closer and gently kissed her forehead, wrapping his strong arms around the woman he adored. "Oh, Scully..." he murmured, trying to impart to her courage he didn't really feel. He closed his eyes, a part of his mind wishing he had never found the X-files, wishing he had never known there were forces beyond this world that held such unfathomable power over humankind, wishing he had met Scully at a little cafe in D.C. somewhere. But he knew that they were doing what they were meant to be doing. Whether or not he had believed in fate before the Cradock and Marine bank incident, he couldn't deny that it had made him think. Maybe he and Scully were meant to be here, or maybe they were only here through a series of choices they had made somewhere in life, but they were here, together, in this hotel room, and this was the only place he could imagine himself. Despite everything that had happened, he knew with deep certainty that neither he nor Scully would have changed anything about their lives together -- professional or otherwise. "Mulder," she whispered, bringing him back to the present. He looked down at her. She was looking at him with such an expression of strength and beauty that it nearly broke his heart. He couldn't bring himself to speak. "Mulder...this is really it, isn't it?" Her words, so frank, brought Mulder's worst fears into the blinding light of certainty. He nodded slowly. "I think so, Scully." In spite of himself, a tear slipped down his cheek, more for Scully than the rest of the world. She saw the tear and caressed it away softly with her hand. He was touched and comforted by the gesture and shut his eyes, blocking out everything except the feel of her hand on his cheek. ========================= The bald man's concentration was focused on a sound no others could hear. After a moment, he breathed a nearly inaudible assent, and stood, folding the paper and placing it on the chair behind him. He walked briskly to the elevator, paying no attention to the men who stood and began walking in the same direction as he went by. By the time he reached the elevator, he was followed by a group of ten or fifteen men, all inconspicuously dressed and each seemingly keeping to himself. Once inside, a large, sinister-looking man placed his finger on the button for floor eleven and glanced at the bald man, who flicked his stare in his direction and nodded his head a fraction of an inch. ========================= In the silence, Mulder's attention was drawn to the radio between the beds, playing a song softly. Something about it caught his interest, and he was aware of Scully also listening as he let the peace of the music wash over him. "For all those times you stood by me For all the truth that you made me see For all the joy you brought to my life For all the wrong that you made right For every dream you made come true For all the love I found in you I'll be forever thankful, baby You're the one who held me up Never let me fall You're the one who saw me through Through it all." Mulder looked down at Scully. Her arms were wrapped loosely around his shoulders, her eyes closed. He simply watched her for a moment until her eyes opened to look into his. Both were unable to look away, their unspeaking gaze conveying more than words ever could as the words of the song spoke for them. "You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'cause you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me." Scully looked into Mulder's eyes and was lost in their depths. They held such quiet passion that she couldn't move even if she had wanted to. They were bright with the glimmer of unshed tears. She wanted desperately to forget. Forget that in two and a half weeks, the world would change harshly and they might lose each other forever. As she gazed into his eyes, she knew he was feeling the same heart-wrenching feelings. But he gave her strength, just by his presence, and more than he could ever know. And he was there for her, with unwavering love and support. They would get through this. Together. "You gave me wings and made me fly You touched my hand; I could touch the sky I lost my faith, you gave it back to me You said no star was out of reach You stood by me and I stood tall I had your love, I had it all I'm grateful for each day you gave me Maybe I don't know that much But I know this much is true I was blessed because I was loved by you." She was so beautiful. And as Mulder watched her, he knew the song was affecting her as much as it was him. His hand strayed to her hair and he stroked it gently, unable to put into words the feelings he felt. He pulled her closer and rested his head gently on hers, closing his eyes. Impulsively, he began to rock her slowly, savoring the strength her presence was building in him. Time had stopped for them, for the moment. "You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'cause you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me." Mulder bent his head and crooked a finger under Scully's chin to softly raise it. Her eyes slowly opened, long lashes lifted to reveal a stunning blue-green. Intending to speak, his lips parted, but words would not come. She glanced at his mouth, so close to hers, and then looked into his eyes again, her breath and pulse quickening. "You were always there for me The tender wind that carried me A light in the dark shining your love into my life You've been my inspiration Through the lies you were the truth My world is a better place because of you." Their lips met and time stopped there -- frozen in a rainbow of hope and beauty. "You were my strength when I was weak You were my voice when I couldn't speak You were my eyes when I couldn't see You saw the best there was in me Lifted me up when I couldn't reach You gave me faith 'cause you believed I'm everything I am Because you loved me I'm everything I am Because you loved me." The song ended, and after another moment so did the kiss. Scully leaned against Mulder's chest and closed her eyes again. His hand came up to stroke her hair softly. After a minute, she spoke, her voice a barely audible whisper. "What are we going to do? What *can* we do? We can't just stand by and wait for...it, whatever it is, to happen." "I know," Mulder returned in a low tone. "I don't know what...what we can do, but we have to do something. We have to stop this. Somehow, Scully. We'll find a way," he murmured, his words muffled, his lips pressed to her hair. She gave a small nod, and reluctantly moved from his arms. He let her go, watching her walk away to the other side of the room. ========================= The man coolly watched the small round numbers over the elevator door light up and darken in succession. 8... 9... 10... 11. The doors slid open. ========================= Scully sat at the table and flipped open the slim grey laptop, kicking off her shoes and taking a sip of tea. Mulder walked over and leaned over her shoulder. "What are you thinking, Scully?" She glanced up. "If the company is going public now, there may be some new information on the Internet from the other cities where an office is opening. At the very least we may be able to determine the scale of this." She dropped her gaze back to the computer, taking a deep breath. After another moment, she spoke again, her words softly cutting to the heart and the truth of all they were facing. "I know it won't do much, Mulder, but it's the only thing I can think to do right now." He nodded, knowing too well the feeling he had seen in her eyes -- the quiet desperation, the futility, the need to do something, anything really, and the overwhelming feeling that nothing could ever make a difference. After a moment he stood and walked to the door. Scully turned around. "Mulder? Where are you going?" He looked at her and waved an empty package of sunflower seeds, smiling sheepishly. She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mulder. Can't you live without those things?" "You wouldn't deny Popeye his spinach, would you, Scully?" She groaned and rolled her eyes again. "And what if someone sees you?" "Snack machine's just around the corner, Scully," he said, opening the door. He shot her the 'hey-it's-me' look. "Be back in a flash." She smiled in spite of herself and turned back around to the computer. ========================= The men walked silently, navigating without a word down the maze of mulberry-carpeted corridors. Finally, the bald man stopped and held up his hand. He glanced around at the others. One man stepped forward, withdrew a small white plastic card from his pocket, and inserted it into the door. It clicked open without a sound, and the men advanced quietly into the room. Scully heard a noise behind her and turned with a small welcoming smile to greet Mulder. The smile disappeared instantly when she saw the men. She shot up, automatically preparing to defend herself, her service weapon in hand. At that moment, the last man entered the room, dragging a man in a choke hold with a gun to his head. "Mulder!" She watched, helpless, as Mulder struggled in the man's grip. She glanced up sharply as a suit-clad man stepped forward, keeping something with a silencer trained on her as he did so. "Put down your gun." Unwilling to surrender, she glanced around at the men, her mind searching furiously for some way of escape. Her silence was mistaken for indifference, and the man holding Mulder slid back the hammer on the gun with a vicious yank at his neck. Her breath caught softly, and she looked desperately at Mulder. He returned her gaze, mouthing raggedly, "Scully, don't..." Scully felt a deep sense of failure and sadness as she raised her hands in surrender and set her gun on the floor. The man nodded and smiled grimly, then signaled with a crook of his finger. Two men detached themselves from the group and strode over to Scully, pinning her arms roughly behind her back. The man on the right shoved a small white cloth over her mouth. As she recognized the sickening sweet smell of chloroform, her gaze returned to Mulder's face. As their eyes met, his face twisted in a grin, and the man holding Mulder released his grip. Suddenly, a man was standing before Scully, a man that she had seen only several times before. A man who had looked like her partner only a moment before and now was someone impossibly different. Her eyes widened as she realized what had happened, but by then the chloroform had begun to take effect. Her vision greyed as she collapsed in the men's arms. ========================= Mulder grit his teeth in frustration as the vending machine spit his dollar bill back on the floor again. Fishing in his pocket, he found some change, fed the coins to the machine, and punched the buttons for sunflower seeds. Nothing happened. He hit the buttons again, with no result. His mind flashing back to a similar time, he walked around to look behind the machine, hoping with a wry smile that this time it was plugged in. As he bent down to check the plug, he heard approaching footsteps. Some old instinct born out of paranoia made him stay behind the machine out of sight until they left. He glanced at the first man's face and his blood ran cold. The man from the lobby, his face hard and grim. He had to get back, to warn Scully somehow. ((But...then why are they walking *away* from our room?)) His mind couldn't consider this at the moment and he instantly forgot the thought as more men appeared, stalking down the hall. He pressed himself flat against the wall, his heart racing. If they saw him, there'd be no way he could escape. And then they'd go after Scully...and he'd have to watch as they took her. He shut his eyes momentarily, shoving away from his mind's eye images of her being taken. When he opened them, he realized that the men's footsteps were farther down the hall by now, and he dared to shoot a glance down the hallway. When he did, the last of the men was turning the corner. He stepped into the hall, looking around for anyone else, then he broke into a run in the direction of their room, hoping against hope that they hadn't been able to find the room. ========================= U.S. 60 East 9:07 a.m. ========================= The black sedan, flanked by several jeeps, cruised down the road away from the hotel. Inside, a woman lay, apparently unconscious, between two neatly dressed men. Two small handguns lay on the seats next to the two men, and each man had a hand casually resting on the weapon closest to him, eyes never straying from their gaze straight ahead. A tinny ringing sound could be heard suddenly -- though the men in the back seat never showed the slightest flicker of interest, and the woman never moved -- and the man in the passenger seat of the car smoothly opened a cell phone and raised it to his ear. "Yes?" The voice on the other end spoke, the sound hollow and metallic over the cell phone. "Have you met with success?" The man in the car allowed his gaze to touch briefly on the unconscious woman, and answered, "Partial success, sir." "Only partial?" He frowned. "Yes...*he* was not there when we entered, but his partner was, and she is in our custody now. We left a man behind in case he comes back." There was a pause, and the man spoke again, after a moment, to fill the silence rather than endure it. "Sir, we can be ready in an hour if this is inade--" "No," came the voice, smirking and smug in its self-assured brilliancy. "Let him be." Waiting momentarily for an explanation, and receiving none, the man inquired, in a tone of slight confusion, "Sir?" "Divide and conquer," the voice proclaimed. "If these two are separated, their primary focus will be on finding each other again, not on this...obsessive quest for the *truth,* as they see it." His tone was drenched in disdain. "No, leave Mulder alone. His concern and even love for his partner will fill his head; he won't be able to think about anything else. He'll blames himself, his concentration will be gone...without her, he's really nothing more than a paranoid lunatic. Besides, it may even leave him open to certain...possibilities?" The harsh smile in the man's voice was impossible to miss. The first man nodded, though he knew the caller wouldn't be able to see, and murmured "All right," into the phone, then hung up, taking another glance at Agent Scully before signaling the driver to take the next exit for the I-295. ========================= Title - Kismet (3/3) Author - Jaimee Kidder ========================= Econo Lodge 9:09 a.m. ========================= Mulder ran down the hallway towards room 1124, his feet pounding the carpet. He couldn't keep the thoughts from flashing through his mind. Maybe they hadn't been able to find the room. He hadn't seen Scully with them when they went by. Then again, he hadn't seen most of the men because he had been so close against the wall. Maybe... He reached the room and threw the door open. It was quiet. He pulled out his weapon and walked quietly through the doorway. The room was empty, but there were no signs of struggle. Then he saw the bathroom door was closed. He went to the door and knocked. "Scully?" There was no answer. "Scully?" His heart in his throat, he pushed the door open. It was empty. Shaking, he walked out of the bathroom, looking around at the empty room. Suddenly, there was a sliding sound, and Mulder spun around to the closet just in time to see a huge fist coming at his face. He staggered back and landed on the bed, but pushed himself up again and reached for his gun. The man lunged at him and Mulder went down, his head striking the leg of the bed hard, his weapon and arm pinned against his side. He pushed at the man, trying to roll over on top of him, but the man hit him again across the face and then brought his hands down on Mulder's neck. Mulder brought his free hand up and tried to pull the man's arms away, but he was too strong and the hands that were choking him never flinched. He struggled desperately but the man never relented, and Mulder could feel himself on the verge of blacking out. Just then, there was the sudden loud ringing of a cell phone, and the man glanced down involuntarily at his pocket, obviously wondering who was calling. The momentary distraction was all Mulder needed, and his other arm came free. He shoved the gun in the man's face and pushed him up. He stared into the cold eyes of his attacker and growled, "Where is she?" The man smiled, which was all the provocation Mulder needed. He punched the man solidly in the jaw, knocking him to the wall. A trickle of blood ran out of his mouth. Mulder breathed harder. "Where is she? What have you done with her?" "You'll never find her," the man whispered, with a horrible bloody smile. Mulder leaned against the wall and put the gun against the man's neck. "Tell me," he snarled, pulling back the hammer on the gun. The man was silent for a moment, then, with a sudden movement, punched Mulder across the face. Too surprised to react, Mulder hit the floor again with a cry of pain, his gun dropping to the floor a few feet away. Then he saw a flash of metal, and rolled out of the way as a long knife hit the floor where he had been lying. The man pinned him down and pressed the knife to Mulder's neck. "Don't move," he hissed, his face barely two inches from Mulder's. "Get up, and I won't hurt you." Mulder nodded, but his fingers were brushing against the gun, and after a split second he pulled it into his hand. As the man lifted the knife away and started to stand, Mulder quickly rolled the opposite way on top of the gun then drew it. The man looked surprised but whipped his hand back to throw the knife. Faced with no other choice, Mulder fired. He stood up, emotionally and physically drained from all that had happened, and slowly walked to the mirror. His face was thickly bruised, there was blood running down the side of his face from a cut on his head, both his nose and mouth were bleeding, and through the handprints on his neck there was a thin red line of blood across his neck from the knife. He looked back at the man, who was obviously dead. The bullet had gone into his face at very close range, and... Mulder looked away. The man had a cell phone and a wallet with a few dollars, but no ID. Mulder checked the speed dial on the phone before slipping it in his pocket, but it was empty. There was no way to tell who he was or who had sent him. Mulder had no idea how he was going to handle this. He couldn't check out of the hotel -- then suspicion would naturally fall on Mark Ryder, and he couldn't afford to have an alias with a police record or even suspicion. Besides, if he went to the police, they would figure out sooner or later that he was actually Fox Mulder, and that couldn't happen. Unless... Struck by an idea, he went to the closet and felt in his coat pocket, then took out his F.B.I. badge and real driver's license. He slid the badge into the man's jacket pocket and the driver's license into the wallet. Then he put the fake glasses on and found the bandages that he had wrapped his face in before and put them loosely on his face as if his attacker had loosened them in the fight. Finally, he picked up the phone. "Econo Lodge Richmond, how may I help you?" His voice was shaking for real as he quietly answered. "Yes...I've been attacked." ========================= 9:33 a.m. ========================= "So, Mr....Ryder, how did you say this happened?" Mulder looked at the officer in front of him and was glad the stereotype about donut-eating policemen was true occasionally. He cleared his throat. "I had just come back from getting coffee and my wife had told me that she was thinking about doing some early shopping at...I think it was some mall about ten or fifteen miles from here." "Cloverleaf Mall?" the policeman prompted. "Yeah, I think that was it," Mulder said. "A friend had told her about some store there or something...I don't know. So she left, and I went down the hall to get something from the vending machine. Actually, it took me a while because the machine was broken, and I was kind of bugged about losing my dollar. So I finally gave up and went back to the room to call the desk about it, went in to use the bathroom, and when I came out, this guy just jumps out of my closet." "Did he have a weapon that he threatened you with?" the officer asked, taking a big bite out of his powdered donut. "Not at first, but he hit me as hard as he could with his fist. I think he was going to shoot me, though, or maybe it was someone else he was after, but when he jumped on me, some kind of handgun fell out of his jacket. So I saw that, grabbed it and then he tried to strangle me. I threw him off and pointed the gun at him. I thought that would stop him, but it didn't...I even pulled the little, y'know, thingy, that makes that clicking sound...the thing you're supposed to pull before you shoot." The policeman nodded impatiently, somewhat bored since he had finished his donut. "Anyway, he just jumped on me again, and this time he had a knife in his hand. He pushed it against my neck and told me to get up, and I started to, so he stood up, but I grabbed the gun again and pointed it at him again, but he started to throw the knife at me, so I shot." Mulder gestured with a shudder in the direction of the body. "I've only held a gun a couple times before -- hunting with my dad when I was a kid -- so I'm not a very good shot...I never meant to kill him, sir." The policeman nodded. "Well, Mr. Ryder, from what we've seen here, you clearly fired in self-defense, so there shouldn't be a problem there. We'll have someone drop you off at the Richmond Memorial Hospital in a minute, so thank y--" "Sir?" The policeman glanced over at the officer going over the body. She shook her head. "You'll never believe who this is." ========================= Columbia Johnston-Willis Hospital 9:58 a.m. ========================= Apparently, the officer who dropped Mulder off at the hospital was eager to get back to their national fugitive, because he let Mulder off at the curb, gave Mulder his card, and drove away. ((Fine with me,)) Mulder thought, and walked down the street to hail a cab, though to go where exactly he had no idea. Somehow, though, he had to find Scully. He couldn't get the scenarios out of his mind. Image after image of things he'd never seen flooded his mind, each presenting itself as the most plausible version of reality. The look he knew had been on Scully's face when she realized she was trapped. That was the one he couldn't shake. What had happened when she was taken? Did they catch her off guard and knock her unconscious before she had time to even draw her gun? Did they send one or two in to attack her and drag her off like it seemed the man back at the hotel had tried to do to him? Anything could've happened. She could be dead. He shook his head violently, telling himself he would have known if anything ever happened to Scully. But right now he had no idea where to go, or what to do. And if some lead didn't present itself soon, he was sure he'd go out of his mind. Just then, his cell phone rang. He reached into his inside pocket and flipped it open. "Mulder." There was no answer, and after another second, the phone rang again. Mulder looked at the phone in his hand, puzzled. Then he remembered, and pulled the phone he had taken off the dead man, his adrenaline rising. "Yes?" he answered in what he hoped was the toneless voice used by most bad guy henchmen. "I couldn't reach you earlier," a voice said, sounding professionally, distantly concerned. "Why didn't you answer your phone?" Mulder thought furiously for a suitably ambiguous answer. "I was...busy," he said, hoping it sounded ominous enough. "Have you located Agent Mulder?" Mulder paused, hoping what he was about to say was what the man wanted to hear. He took a deep breath. "He's dead." The man considered this. "Was this absolutely necessary? Your orders were to bring him to us alive." "He was armed. I was nearly killed," Mulder reported flatly, wondering how long he could keep up the act before he gave himself away. "Unfortunately, my reason for calling was to change your orders. I was instructed to leave Agent Mulder alone in hopes of negotiating a deal with him for his partner's life." Mulder froze. "Now that he is dead, I see no reason to let her live." Stunned, Mulder couldn't think of anything to say that seemed appropriate, so he said the first thing that came into his mind. "Would it be possible for me to question her, sir?" "Why?" The voice was more guarded now. Thinking fast, he said quietly, "Something Agent Mulder said just before I killed him." He knew he hadn't quite kept the slight hesitation from his voice when he spoke, but amended, "I'd rather not repeat it on an unsecured line, but Agent Scully should be able to enlighten us, if properly motivated." He kept his voice steady that time, though with an effort. "Very well. We're holding her in New London." "I'll be in as soon as the situation here is under control," Mulder said, and, hearing the click on the other end, hung up, though with more questions than answers. At least now he knew Scully was alive, but what they could be doing to her... The tamest thoughts were enough to make him go pale. New London sounded like something out of '1984.' He hadn't the slightest idea where it was. He sighed, he was completely exhausted and on an adrenaline letdown. But he knew exactly who he had to call, though, and after a second of indecision, dialed the Lone Gunmen's number. ========================= A.D. Skinner's office 10:07 a.m. ========================= "What?" Skinner gripped the phone tightly, listening unwillingly to the report of some idiot Richmond police officer. "I'm sorry, that's just not possible. Are you sure it's --" The officer on the other end cut him off abruptly, and Skinner grit his teeth. Finally the endless stream of facts, details, and conjectures ended, and Skinner muttered, "Thank you for your report; the Justice Department appreciates your co-operation," and hung up. He stood and walked to his open office door. "Kimberly, get Mrs. Scully on the phone; tell her that Agent Mulder is dead and that I need to talk to her." Kimberly's eyes widened, but she nodded dutifully and picked up the phone. Skinner retreated into his office, closing the door behind him. So it was true. ========================= 10:09 a.m. ========================= The click was only noticeable if you listened for it, and Mulder was one of the few who knew what it meant. "Lone Gunmen," Langly answered. "Shut the tape off," Mulder said hoarsely. "Mulder?" Langly asked elatedly. "Yeah, it's me," he said. The exhaustion was catching up with him, and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "We've all been worried about you two, I mean, with the news and all...Frohike was sure you faked it, but after we got our hands on the D.O.J.'s report...so you're okay?" Mulder chuckled in spite of himself and Langly continued, obviously smiling as he spoke, "So Scully's not dead or anything?" The words took his breath away and for a moment he couldn't answer. His mind had filled again with horrible pictures, this time of her dying, of her dead. After a second, an eternity, filled with a thousand nightmares, he became slowly aware of Langly's voice, calling him back to reality. "Mulder? Mulder!" "Yeah," he muttered. "Something's...happened to Scully," Langly said softly. Finally. A bench. He collapsed on it, only then realizing he was shaking. "She, uh...I left the room to get something...from the vending machine." He laughed roughly. "When I came back, she was gone and a man was waiting for me in my closet with a knife." He took a deep breath. "They're holding her in New London, wherever that is." Mulder could hear the sound of tapping keys, and Langly was all business again. "New London...where are you? I mean, where were you, when...." "Richmond." "Okay..." More keys tapped, faster this time. ((Come on, Langly,)) Mulder thought, impatience taking precedence over weariness. After another moment, Langly shouted, "I've got it!" "What? What'd you find?" "Okay, an hour or two away from Richmond is the Fort A.P. Hill military reservation. That's where New London is. It's some sort of town, or something. I'm really not sure." He sighed, a long ragged sigh. "Okay." "How're you going to do this? You have a car?" He shook his head. "Back at the hotel." "Okay...somehow, you'll have to get a ride to Bowling Green. It's a little town about a mile west of the base. From there, you probably should walk if you don't want questions. How do you feel about hitchhiking?" He smiled wearily. "Whatever it takes, Langly." "All right. Here's what you do...." ========================= New London 11:28 a.m. ========================= It was dark. She couldn't see anything, except a paper thin sliver of light a few yards away on the floor, which could only mean that that was where the door was. ((What...? Where am I?)) Scully wondered. Then she remembered -- the hotel, the men, Mulder... Mulder. Had he come back while they were still there to find an army waiting for him? Had they gone looking for him? She shivered. She was lying on some sort of hard bed attached to the wall. She tried to sit up, but was rewarded with such a crash of pain in her head that she quickly lay down again. Whether that was the result of the chloroform or something else was impossible to tell. After another moment of lying in the dark, she tried again, more slowly this time, and managed to sit all the way up and put her feet on the ground. The floor was cold and felt like cement or concrete, and that was when she realized that she had taken her shoes off at the hotel and was still barefoot. Standing up despite the cold on her feet, she felt around the walls of what could only be some kind of cell. It was fairly small, she concluded, about eight feet by six feet, and the door had no handle on this side, as far as she could tell. She sat back down on the bed and began to think about her situation. She was obviously being held by the same men -- or the people they worked for -- in a cell, probably on a nearby military base. Unfortunately, she had no idea how long she had been there, so she couldn't really estimate the time it had taken to get there from Richmond. Fort Lee seemed like a reasonable guess, but then again, knowing where she was didn't help her much right now. She was a prisoner, held away somewhere in the confines of a military base. Clearly, someone was getting her out of the way. That could only mean that Mulder and she were right, that their worst nightmares were coming true, that the wheels were in motion for something big. She still couldn't bring herself to think about colonization. It seemed reasonable to think that Mulder was here somewhere as well. At least, she hoped he was -- considering the sheer force of the men that had taken her, it was unlikely that he would have been able to escape. That is, if they had waited for him to come back. So if he wasn't here... Suddenly, a harsh metallic sound made her look up. The door slid open, inundating the room with light. She shielded her eyes from the glare and was able to make out a man standing in the doorway. He walked in slowly, and her eyes narrowed as she recognized the wrinkled face, the sardonic smile, the cigarette. She stood up, suddenly incensed. The door slid closed again, and only the spark of the lighter lit the room for an instant. "Agent Scully," he said amiably, touching the flame to the end of his cigarette. Angry, she surprised herself by reaching up and snatching the cigarette away from him and flicking it to a corner of the room. "As you wish," he smirked, obviously amused. "What is this?" she demanded. "Why am I here?" "You -- and your partner -- have a way of...shall we say...bringing to ruin the plans that men for fifty years have been working to bring about." He chuckled, as always enjoying having the upper hand. "Sometimes I don't think you or Agent Mulder realizes how much is at stake here." She stared at him. "I know what's at stake here. The lives of billions of people, the fate of our world --" He cut her off sharply. "Such arrogance, Agent Scully! You have no *idea* of the fine line we tread! Ours was merely a ploy for time, so that we could perfect the vaccine. No one meant to actually develop a hybrid, and so bring our judgment upon ourselves." "I've heard this all before," she interrupted, her eyes flashing. "You chose to save yourselves. You disregarded billions of human lives to save your own. Don't talk to me about arrogance." He took a step back -- his openness was at an end, and she realized it. "Wait." He turned, and she heard the clink of his lighter as he put another cigarette between his lips. "Where's Mulder?" He flicked the lighter; the flash of flame showed his face twisted in a contemptuous smile. "He's dead." Her heart stopped for a second at his words. "You're lying." "Oh, I've been told he put up a good fight -- almost killed the agent we placed in your room. But our man eventually got his gun and..." He shrugged, and the door opened. "Have a nice day," he called pleasantly. The door closed, and she sat down slowly on the bed. The only sound she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears -- that and his words echoing in her mind. He put up a good fight....but.... A good fight...? But... Mulder. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, hoping somehow she could fall asleep before comprehension could penetrate the layer of denial that enveloped her heart. ========================= Bowling Green, Virginia 12:56 p.m. ========================= Mulder watched the driver speed away down the highway, glad he was out of the truck and on his own feet. The man had told Mulder he had a few stops he needed to make, and wound up making what should have been an hour-long trip into almost two and a half. Mulder had just sat in the passenger seat, keeping his eyes focused on the glove compartment and his thoughts focused on his mission. He still had no idea what he planned to do when he reached the base. According to Langly, it would take him about twenty minutes, jogging, to get to the perimeter of the base. He had reluctantly decided on the drive up that he had the best chance of getting inside if he waited until dark. He knew there was really no point in trying to save her if he was arrested before he could even get to New London. It was still hard, though, knowing he was a few miles away from Scully but his hands would be tied until nightfall. He walked down the road aimlessly until he came to a small restaurant. With nothing else to do, and realizing he was hungry, he went in. The waitress at the counter took in his bloody face, his scruffy hair, and his torn clothes with one sweep of her eyes. "Coffee," he said, without looking up, and she disappeared into the kitchen. He turned around on the red vinyl-covered counter stool to look out the huge plate glass windows that covered the front of the building. It was more habit than anything, really, but he had nothing else to do. The town was small, and from what he could tell, boring. There was a little cheap motel across the street, and a bank next to that. Nothing special. He wasn't sure what exactly he'd been hoping to see -- a couple military jeeps, maybe, or a couple of men in black...or Scully -- but there was nothing there, and he turned back around. The waitress came back with his coffee, and he gave her a dollar, muttering with a wave of his hand for her to keep the change. That earned him another suspicious stare, and she retreated to the kitchen again. He took a sip of his coffee - - it was too hot, and terrible besides -- and glanced around the diner. A couple people were sitting at tables, on lunch break, no doubt. He was about to turn around again when movement from outside the window caught his eye. There was a man, dressed head to toe in black, walking by the front of the building. As Mulder watched, stunned and momentarily paralyzed with anger and surprise, he turned his head, and met Mulder's eyes. Mulder stood and walked, dangerously slowly, to the door, slamming it open with a fist. The man on the sidewalk shot him one last incredulous look, and then bolted. Mulder followed at a run, his long legs taking him closer and closer to his prey with every stride. Finally, he was close enough, and leaped on top of the man, knocking him to the ground. He drew his gun and shoved the barrel against Krycek's chest. "Krycek," Mulder hissed, breathing hard. "What brings *you* to town? Business as usual?" "Mulder --" He tried to sit up, but Mulder pushed him back down hard with the gun. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Krycek. Just give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now." He drew a deep breath, his eyes looking around futilely for some hope of escape. "Because I can take you to Scully." Mulder looked at him with a start, and after a moment's consideration stood, motioning with his gun for Krycek to stand as well. They were not far from a small alley; Mulder rested the gun between Krycek's shoulder blades and they walked single-file into the alley. "All right," Mulder said, when they had reached a spot near the back of the alley, "Talk." Krycek was silent for a minute, then began. "I was sent here to look for you. They know it was you who called them, Mulder -- they know you were the one who killed their agent, and they knew you'd come here the first chance you'd get." Mulder took a deep breath. That much he could've guessed, though he had hoped that they had not been able to learn that much already. But there were more important things to think about. "What about Scully?" "She's being held in the base of operations. Fort A.P. Hill - -" "In New London," Mulder interrupted. "I know. What are they doing to her?" "Nothing, so far," Krycek said. "But they know if they can somehow get in touch with you, or better yet, find you themselves, they can get you to bargain with them for her life." Mulder let out a long breath. "That can't happen. I have to find her first." He stood, and Krycek seized his arm. "Mulder, you have to realize this: the date for colonization is set." "I know," Mulder answered, anger tingeing his voice. "No, you don't. If they perceive anything to be a threat to their plans -- and that includes you, Mulder -- they will move the date up. Closer. No one will be allowed to stop this now. Especially not you. They will do what they have to." "And so will I," Mulder said quietly. ========================= New London 5:37 p.m. ========================= Scully lay curled up on the bed, which she now knew to be metal with some fabric stretched over it, and wished they would just leave her alone. Twice now they had taken her from her cell from questioning. Well, it wasn't really questioning. They just sat her down in front of some man in a suit and alternately threatened her and gave her information. Information they promised her she would never leave with alive. It was idiotic, like they were stalling for time, or something. They kept telling her about Mulder. That was the one thing she couldn't bear. She had hoped he had been able to escape, but that hope had been dimming since she had gotten here and was now almost completely gone. They were too good at what they did; whether they had left behind one agent or several, they would've been well trained. They forced her to hear the details, details she didn't want in her brain, scraps of information merging together to make one horrible scene that kept running through her mind. They were wearing her down, but she wouldn't give up. Despite everything, somehow she had to find a way out. The second time they had taken her from her cell, she had noticed the sounds. Operators on telephones, only a hair away from unprofessionalism, anxiously trying to reach someone. Other people running back and forth between offices. The sounds of a hundred computers all frantically in use. The first time she had been brought out, things were calm. The second time, it had been a war zone. And that was hours ago. She wondered what was going on. Obviously, things had changed from when she had been brought in. Some problem had developed, something they couldn't easily solve. Things had seemed to be running smoothly until a few hours ago. What had happened? She had no idea. But she was fairly sure that, whatever it was, she wouldn't know about it until it was too late. Her time was running out. ========================= He looked up as a man walked into his office and stood before his desk. "Yes?" he asked, dismissing his impatience with a self-superior smile. "Sir, the new timetable has been finalized. We need only your approval, and then we can begin." He tossed a manila folder on the desk. Lighting up a cigarette, he flipped through the file quickly, paused once to look over a series of dates, times, and locations, and then handed the folder back to the man. "You have my authorization," he said with a deadly smile. "Tell them to proceed." ========================= Chicago, Illinois 5:45 p.m. EST ========================= It was still early in the evening. People were out shopping, eating an early dinner, or just taking a walk when it happened. No one thought it was strange for an agricultural company to open in Chicago. Some thought it was a little too close to the city for its own good, but that was their business, and the citizens of Chicago had other things to think about. It was really a beautiful evening. The sunlight was playing off the scattered clouds in a stunning display of colors, and it was neither too warm nor too cool. It was even a little quiet. So everyone noticed when a strange sound began moving beneath them, in the ground. Sort of a humming, almost like high voltage. It grew increasingly more intense every minute, as it came closer and closer. Some stopped what they were doing to listen. They were totally unaware of the danger as the first bee emerged from the sewer grate. ========================= New London 5:55 p.m. ========================= The man appeared at his desk again, fifteen minutes later. He knew what he was here for. "You are here with good news, I assume?" "Yes, sir," the man said, his expression unchanging. "The Chicago operation was successful. Military police are at the scene now removing victims to be placed in cryonic suspension." "You have the photographs, to prove this?" The man held out another folder. He opened it and glanced through the photos. "You have done well." Flipping the folder shut, he gave it back to the man. Just then, the door slammed open, and another man walked in quickly. "Sir, the transports containing the Chicago victims have been assaulted." He was on his feet in a second. "What? By whom?" "Whoever it was, they took the victims with them. Every one is gone." He hesitated. "Our officers, the trucks, other personnel, everything...was burned." Not waiting to hear any more, he strode to the door, then turned with his hand on the knob to give final instructions. "Evacuate the building to Washington as soon as possible, and find some way to stop the operation." "That's impossible," the man protested. "Make it possible," he growled, and left the room. ========================= 6:13 pm. ========================= For the last few minutes, as Mulder watched from Krycek's car, he had seen at least several hundred military trucks and jeeps drive at top speed out of the base. Something big was going on. "What's this about?" he asked tightly. "I don't know," Krycek answered, his voice just as tense. The radio was on, and something made Mulder turn it up. It was in the middle of a station news break. "-- has said that he was not responsible for --" "What?" Krycek asked. Mulder waved him to silence. "-- was expected in recent years. In Chicago, a strange attack of what looks to be Africanized killer bees has swept the city. There are no reports as to the extent of the damage, or how many lives were lost, but it is rumored that the death toll is devastatingly high. Military --" "That's it," Mulder said sharply, his heart racing. "We have to go, *now.*" "But if they catch us --" "They won't," Mulder said, his foot on the accelerator. "This doesn't look like everything's going according to plan. Something's wrong, and they'll have bigger things to worry about than us." "I don't think --" "Shut up and sit back," Mulder snapped angrily. If Scully was in one of these cars, he'd never find her. If she was still alive. ========================= Scully could hear someone approaching her cell. One person. That should be easy enough if she could take him by surprise. She stood next to the doorway, pressed against the wall. The door slid open, and a man stepped in, looking at the empty bed in confusion. As soon as he turned in her direction, as soon as their eyes met, she sent him sprawling against the opposite wall with a punch that should have knocked him out cold. She walked quickly to him and felt for a pulse. There wasn't one. He must've hit his head too hard on the wall... She felt a rush of remorse, instantly wiped away by the realization that she had her freedom. She walked quickly to the doorway -- and stopped cold. That man was standing there, his lips twisted in a horrible parody of a smile. Behind him, she was aware of the shouts of people, running feet, and a rapidly desolating building. A lit cigarette was in his left hand, now at his side. In his other hand, held up tauntingly, was a small card. In an instant, she knew what it was -- the keycard for the door to her cell. As that thought crossed her mind, the man crooked the fingers that held the card and flicked it into the chamber. She stared at it, unable to move. "See you in hell, Agent Scully." She finally got it -- but it was too late. The door slammed shut, and she was locked inside with a key that could open the door only from the outside. She sat down on the floor, hearing the sounds of what could only be an evacuation, and tried to accept the fact that she was going to die. ========================= "This is it," Krycek said, gesturing to a turnoff up the road. Mulder didn't respond. "Mulder? You have to turn up here." He blinked, then shook himself. He had to stop thinking about... He turned right onto the road. It was extremely wooded, and he couldn't see anything up the road ahead. Then he turned a corner, and his eyes widened. He had no idea how to find Scully in all this. Trucks, jeeps, and the occasional car were all over the place. People were running back and forth between buildings as fast as they could. The main building itself was huge, and there were other small buildings scattered around the main one. There were radar dishes, antennae, and several pieces of equipment Mulder had never seen before. Krycek was apparently used to it. "Come on, let's just get her and get out of here." They jumped out of the car, and Krycek led Mulder at a run towards the main building. They walked right in; the doors were even open. As soon as they entered, and their eyes adjusted to the dark, Krycek stopped with a small gasp. "What happened here?" The place was a wreck. Tables were overturned, papers had been spilled on the floor, and several computer monitors had fallen off the desks and were lying on the floor in a halo of sparkling broken glass. After a moment of stunned silence, Krycek pointed in the direction of a dark hallway, all the way across the room they were standing in now. "She should be down there, in one of those cells..." He trailed off, not saying the obvious. ((If she's here at all.)) Mulder walked quickly, ahead of Krycek, through the massive room. It was almost completely empty, and every part of him was wondering why. A question came to mind, and he turned around. Krycek was gone. He was hardly surprised, but slightly unnerved. If Scully wasn't here, he would have no idea where else to look. That thought really scared him. He was three-quarters across the huge room now, and for some reason, he looked behind him again. Several men were standing in the entrance to the building, and Mulder could see them pointing at him. Krycek was with them. He took off at a desperate run for the hallway of cells, ignoring their surprised cries. He made it to the doors and started shouting Scully's name. ========================= The silence was interrupted by the sound of pounding feet coming in her direction. She stayed sitting on the floor, her back against the wall. She was ready for whatever happened. "Scully!" She stood up in a flash, hearing his voice clearly, despite the thick metal walls. "Mulder! I'm in here!" ========================= He ran towards the sound of her voice, all the way at the end of the hall. "I'm here, Scully -- are you okay?" "I'm fine, Mulder," she said, and he almost laughed at such a familiar response. He should've expected her to say that. The men had begun to walk towards him, slowly and ominously. "What's happening, Mulder? Why is the building being evacuated?" "I'm not sure, Scully," he answered, and then paused, wondering how best to tell her. "Mulder? What's the matter?" He took a deep breath. "There was an attack on Chicago, Scully. Bees. I ran into Krycek. He told me that colonization would take place, no matter what, and that meant moving the date up closer if something threatened to get in the way. That's you and me, Scully." Suddenly, there was a loud pulsating roar, and Mulder was knocked to the ground. He glanced back across the room, and the men were on the floor also. The building was shaking. "Scully? You okay?" "What *was* that, Mulder? I can barely hear you." "I don't know." He turned back to look at the door where he had come in. A flood of wind was rushing through the building, and he could see several people outside the building lying on the ground -- unconscious, or dead, it was impossible to tell. They had to leave, right then. "Scully, we've got to get out of here. Do you know how to open the door?" He was looking at the lock -- there was a keypad and a slot for a card. There was silence. Then, "Mulder, I have the key. It's in here. I can't get out." "You can't push it under the door?" he shouted against the wind. "No," she yelled after a minute, calmness and desperation together in her voice. "There's not enough room." It was unmistakably brighter outside. "Okay, then, stand back from the door." He removed his gun and fired as many remaining rounds as he dared at the thick metal door. It made no difference; he hadn't expected that it would. "Mulder, go without me." He didn't hesitate for a moment. "No." "Come on, Mulder, it's pointless for you to stay here. It's pointless for both of us to die." A rush of light was slowly, impossibly slowly, enveloping the building. "You're not going to die, Scully." "Neither are you, Mulder, and you will if you stay out there. Please, get out while you can!" "I'm not leaving you!" He tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light, but the wind was too strong. He turned his head away. The roar became louder, deafening; he could feel it in his chest. The light had almost reached them. "Mulder, please!" She was sobbing. The ground was shaking so violently that his teeth were chattering. "I love you, Scully...!" he called, as loud as he could. Then the light surrounded him, and somehow everything was still. ========================= Wednesday, August 25 D.C. General Hospital ========================= Slowly, the world appeared before his clearing eyes. He was lying in a hospital bed. The monitor was beeping steadily, in rhythm with his heart, and he could just barely make out someone sitting in a chair across from his bed. He tried to sit up, but wasn't able to, and all that happened was that he made the heart monitor beep faster. The person sitting in the chair looked up sharply, and immediately stood and walked quickly over to the bed. It was Skinner. "Sir," Mulder greeted him. It came out in a whisper. "What - -" "Don't try to sit up, Agent Mulder," Skinner said quietly, pulling up a chair to sit beside the bed. Mulder pushed himself up a little anyway and leaned back into an armful of pillows. "Where am I? What happened?" "D.C. General. We found you in an abandoned building a few hours north of Richmond." An abandoned building...Richmond... Mulder sat bolt upright suddenly as memory came back, and his vision blurred with a surge of pain. He was vaguely aware of Skinner pushing him back down into the pillows. "Easy, Mulder. Lie down." "Where's Scully?" he gasped hoarsely. "She's here. And she's fine...but you've been unconscious for the last five days. We've all been really concerned." Mulder lay back on the bed and closed his eyes with relief. Skinner began to give him the details. "Like I said, we found you in a building north of Richmond, at Fort A.P. Hill. The building had nearly burned to the ground. Both Scully and you had severe burns. Scully's weren't that bad -- mostly first- and second-degree, from the temperature of the metal walls of her cell -- but they brought you in covered with third-degree burns." He paused to take a deep breath. "Frankly, Agent Mulder, I didn't think you'd make it." Mulder was quiet for a minute, trying to take it all in. "How did you find us?" "Police were notified by Alex Krycek." Mulder's eyes widened at the name. Skinner nodded. "After they found you and Scully, they immediately called the Bureau, and that's why I'm here." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Mulder, you have no idea how worried I was. Why'd you do it?" "Do what?" "Fake Scully's and your death, go to that military base... What was so important about your murder case that made you go to such lengths?" Mulder pushed himself up straighter. "Because the men responsible for Robert Harris's death are the same men behind my sister's abduction, Scully's cancer, the bee attack in Chicago...and they don't make mistakes. Our lives were in danger; we did what we had to in order to solve the case." "And you have?" Mulder shook his head reluctantly. "There's still too much I don't know. What happened at that base, for one thing. And whether the Chicago incident was an isolated case." "That much I can help you with," Skinner said. "There were other cities that were attacked. About ten others, I think. All major cities, all within exactly one hour of each other. It aroused enough suspicion to trace the bees back to Nature's Best, and the C.D.C. managed to have the remaining facilities shut down on the basis of quarantine. It wasn't easy, Mulder. They had hundreds of locations in the U.S. alone, and who knows how many more overseas. There may be more out there that we don't know about." It was a sobering thought. "There's something else," Skinner said quietly. "I have photographs from the base, taken when the police located you." He handed Mulder the folder. "You two were the only survivors...that they found, anyway." Mulder opened the file. It was filled with large glossy photographs of the inside of the building, and the area just outside. His breath caught. The people...they had been burned, horribly burned. Some charred beyond all recognition. He flipped through the pictures quickly, not wanting to see details, when one made him stop. It was a photo of the hallway where he had found Scully. The picture was of him. He looked at it in shock, completely unable to recognize himself. Finally he tore his eyes away from the picture and shot a look at Skinner, who had seen the picture he was looking at. "A miracle, Agent Mulder." Just then, the door opened, and Scully walked in. Mulder could feel a grin spreading involuntarily across his face. "Hi," she said, smiling back. Skinner stood. "I'm going to go let the doctor know you're awake," he said quietly, and left the room. Scully came in and sat down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked, taking his bandaged hand gently in hers. "Glad to be alive," he said, holding the file out for her. She glanced at the picture and then quickly closed the file, setting it down on the floor beside her. "I've seen the picture," she said softly. "I saw you." She swallowed and looked down. They were quiet together for a minute, both simply grateful to be with the other. He never thought he'd see her again. That feeling...it was beyond words. And now, to be here with her left him speechless. He wanted to look at her forever. Finally, she broke the silence. "Mulder, do you think it's really over?" "I don't know, Scully. I think that this will really set any existing plans back at least a few years. Maybe long enough to pull together a real investigation and find a way to fight." "We will fight," she agreed, with a nod, then added, "Together." He nodded. "I may not know how, or where. I may not know what the future holds. But I still have you," she said with a tender smile. "And I won't let you go." "Ditto," he said with a roguish grin. She laughed and put her arm around his neck, looking him straight in the eye. "I love you, Fox Mulder." "I love you, Dana Scully," he returned, all his thoughts vanishing as her pulled her close in a deep kiss. The end. ========================= Well, thanks for reading it, & I hope everybody had a good time and won't get mad and demand their money back. Send all comments, compliments, flames, or anything else you feel like saying to specialagentdana@aol.com. Feedback is practically begged for, as usual :)