SEM'S APOCALYPTIC DWELLING   |   home back to the x-files another one study of light and dark  Another One (i feel in love with this story- if they were to get together id like it to bee like this) Mulder's Apartment,  10 pm  Special Agent Dana Scully looked around her partner's dark apartment, putting to memory all the specific details. The fish tank. Two fish. No, three fish. Two gold and one white. The computer next to the window. The desk on which the computer sat, the desk which was covered in papers and disks and empty soda cans. The soft leather couch, black and long, long enough to be slept upon by a tall man, by her partner. Scully walked over to the couch and sat slowly down on the edge, looking at the wall opposite her. She was startled to see a picture taken of Mulder and her, dancing to Cher, framed in a black stand-up frame, sitting on his VCR. She walked over, and gently removed the picture from its place. Mulder was looking down into her eyes, she up into his. 'We look like we're in love,' she thought, and quickly replaced the photograph. 'Where did he get that?' She heard the noise of someone turning the key in an already unlocked door, and looked up, startled, knowing who was behind the door and not knowing what to say to that man when he walked into his apartment. His apartment, with her in it. "Scully? Is everything all right? Are you okay?" Mulder greeted her, turning on the lights she had purposely left off. "I'm f-fine, Mulder. Fine. H-hello," she stuttered, blushing slightly. "You sound startled. Why are you here?" "I'm fine...where did you get this picture?" she asked, changing the subject and holding the picture for him to see. "One of the locals there sent it to me. They said they sent you one, too. You didn't get it?" "No." "Do you want mine?" "No, Mulder." Scully stood, staring at the picture, blushing as she felt increasingly uncomfortable and felt Mulder's own discomfort. "So, um, Scully?" She looked up at him. "Why are you here?" She shrugged, looking again at the picture. "Remember...remember Emily?" Scully asked softly. "Yes," Mulder said slowly, stepping toward her. "Well, one of the detectives I worked with to find out about her...to get the information and all. He--he called me about an hour ago." "He did," Mulder said, prodding her on, stepping closer to her. "He has taken a great interest in her case. He began to study and research anything he could. He has made some amazing discoveries." Scully looked down at her feet, at the picture, and turned to walk over to the window. She looked out across the roof of another building, staring at the rain as it fell through the light. She whirled around to face Mulder. "Mulder, there are others," she burst out. "Others?" "More children, more like Emily. Mine, Mulder," Scully choked out, tears welling in her eyes. She sat down on the couch, hands in lap. She bent her head down, staring at her fingers. Her hot tears fell and felt like fire against her skin. Mulder sat down next to her, and placed his fingers gingerly on her chin, lifting her face to look into her eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, then pulled her toward him in a hug, smoothing the hair on the back of her head while she cried against his shoulder. "Mulder, there's something else," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder and her tears. "What?" "There's something else," she said, pulling away. "Tell me, Scully." "He...he found one of the father's." "How did he do that?" "He took your DNA, Mulder," she whispered. "Mine." "Yours." "Why?" "On a hunch." "One of these children, a child like Emily, is both yours--and mine?" Mulder asked. "Yes, Mulder. I-I'm sorry. I should go. I'm sorry." Scully got up, brushing away the remaining tears. She walked toward the door, only pausing to look back at the photograph. "Don't go," Mulder said from the couch. "What?" "Don't go," he repeated roughly. "Why not?" she challenged, hand on the doorknob. "Because I don't want you to," he said, walking quickly over to her. "Don't go." "Mulder." "Scully, I don't blame you at all for any of this. There's only one person to blame-" "Not you," Scully interrupted. "There are so many other people, Mulder. The people who run the government, the people who run the--the other government, the people who brought each of us into this world. Anyone, Mulder. Anyone but you." "Why not me, Scully? If it weren't for me, Samantha wouldn't have been abducted--taken--you wouldn't have been taken, your sister wouldn't have died, you wouldn't have gotten cancer, and all these children, these Emilies, they wouldn't have had to live innocent lives just to die." "But Mulder, that has nothing to do with you. Samantha could have been taken, I could have been taken, all without you. Without you, Mulder, without you I don't know that I would have a reason for working and a drive to work so hard. I love my job and..." she trailed off. "I want to find that child, Mulder. Our child. Just to know what she looks like. How smart she must be, with the genes she got from you." "It's a girl?" "Her name is Geena. She's almost four. In December" "Geena what?" "Allan." "From where?" "She lives with her foster parents in Seattle." "Foster parents?" "She never had real parents, Mulder." "She has real parents. She has us." "But we can't just take her away from her foster care, Mulder. That's illegal." "I know. But we have the DNA to prove we're her parents. We can say we're married, that our daughter was taken from us at some point." "That's illegal." "Taking my sperm and your egg and putting them together without our consent is illegal, Scully." "It's not illegal, Mulder. It's un-heard of." "Does that make it not true?" Scully took a deep breath, and sighed. "Are you okay now?" Mulder asked, and she nodded. He placed his hand on her cheek, and smiled down at her. "Let's watch TV," he suggested. "TV? Right now?" "We can't do anything else at eleven, can we?" "It's already eleven?" "Let's watch TV," he urged, and escorted her to the couch. She sat beside him, close, and felt the smooth leather with her left hand. Her right hand lay in her lap; it was uncomfortable to have it there, and uncomfortable to move it. Mulder turned on the television and began to flip through the channels. "Stop there," Scully said. The News at Eleven was on. "Coming up next: Why more and more Seattle children are dying each year; the story behind the doctor's causes." "Turn it off, Mulder. I don't want to see that." He complied, and they sat, side by side, wordless. Lightening brightened the room, and there was a slight fzzz as the lights went out. Thunder followed shortly after, and the agents sat, still, almost frozen, in their seats. "Mulder?" Scully said. She could only feel his presence; she couldn't see him. "I'm here," he said, reached out to touch her shoulder. She reached up and grabbed his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Do you have any candles, Mulder?" "I don't think so. No. Langley wanted them all a while ago. Some kind of experiment, I don't know." "What about your flashlight?" "Out of batteries." "Damn." The darkness that filled the apartment was velvety black, and Scully felt like it was pressing down upon her. She was scared. She, Special Agent Dana Scully, investigator of such monsters as Fluke Man, was scared. And she admitted it. "Mulder?" "Yeah?" "I'm scared." "Of what?" he asked, surprising her. "Of...of finding Geena, and having her die. Of death. Of the dark." "I'm sorry I don't have any candles, Scully." "It's okay." "I...I wanted to say that I'm sorry." "What for?" "For that time in Florida. When you asked if I'd ever thought seriously about death." "And you said once when you were at the Ice Capades." "Yeah. I'm sorry." "I didn't really expect a serious answer." "You didn't?" "Mulder, I know you. I know what to expect." He chuckled softly beside her, and removed his hand from hers. He placed his arm around her shoulders, and pulled him in toward her. She tucked her feet beneath her, and lay her head in his lap. He carefully stroked her hair, pulling the stray strands out of her face. "I keep thinking about Emily, Mulder," Scully whispered into the darkness. She thought of the things in his apartment she knew were there, but that she could not see. 'How many things are there in the world, right before me,' she thought, 'that I cannot see?' "What about her?" Mulder asked, staring straight ahead and absently moving his hand around in her hair. "Not her, exactly. Just...I want a daughter, Mulder. I want a daughter and a family. And then I think, who could I marry?" Mulder didn't speak, but he stopped playing with her hair. His hand lay on her head, heavy and warm, welcome. She sighed, taking a deep breath. "You're my best friend, Mulder," she said softly. Mulder remained silent, tracing her hairline with one finger. Her heart fluttered at the touch. She was comfortable and tired. She blinked a few times and felt herself slipping into sleep. She struggled to keep awake as Mulder continued to play with her hair, but her eyes shut and remained. She was asleep. "Scully?" Mulder asked. "Scully, we could get...married..." Mulder trailed off as he realized that Scully was no longer awake. He sighed, and leaned his head back on the couch. He closed his eyes, and tried to picture Geena. 'Her child,' he thought. 'My child. Our child.' He felt himself losing consciousness as he began to dream about a life with Scully--and their child. "Mulder!" Scully cried, starting awake and waking Mulder. "What? Scully, are you okay?" "I'm fine. I had a bad dream," she said, sitting back up, pushing the hair out of her face. The lights came back on she set her hands down, and she stood. "I should go. It's--" she paused, looking at the wall clock. "It's two in the morning? Is that correct?" "Yeah, it's battery operated." "Oh. Two in the morning. Wow." "You can stay here if you want to. I have a bed you can use in the other room." "No, I have to go. I'm sorry about this, Mulder. I'll speak with you tomorrow at work." Good night, Mulder." She walked to the door, and turned to look at him. She smiled, and left. Mulder and Scully's Office,  8am "Hello, Mulder," Scully said softly as she entered the office. He was sitting at his desk, reading a file. He looked up and nodded his hello. "What do you have there?" she asked. "Some information about Geena. Skinner came down about fifteen minutes ago to give it to me. He said we can investigate her, but we're not to interfere." "May I look at it when you're done?" "You can look at it now. There's not much." He handed Scully the papers, and she went to sit in her chair. The file included a birth certificate, doctor's reports, and the reports of her social worker. "Mulder, there's nothing that indicates she's ill," Scully said, looking up at Mulder in surprise. "I know." "Did you read everything?" "I didn't get to the social worker's things." Scully looked over what the social worker--her name was Juliane Halloran--had written. "The birth mother cared for the child, but then gave her away," Scully read out loud. " August Fourth, 1996: Geena does not remember her real mother and does not attach well to her foster parents. We are moving her to another household where she will be the only child cared for. August Eighteenth, 1996: Geena and her foster parents are getting along; Geena calls them by their first names. She can speak quite well for her age. November Twelfth, 1996: Geena is two today. She threw a fit at the table during her celebration because Mary would not, she claimed, tell her the truth." "Sounds like someone we know," Mulder remarked quietly. "December twenty-fifth, 1997: Mary gave Geena a book for Christmas; the child read it out loud to her foster parents without having it read to her first. The child may indeed be a genius." "Did the detective you talked with have anything else to say, Scully?" "No, not anything helpful. He told me that she was basically just like the others. I do have her address, though." "All right, here's what we do. We go to Seattle, tell them we want to adopt her." "And then?" Mulder was silent. He shrugged slightly and fiddled with his pen. "Mulder, this child, though she is in foster care, is being taken care of. She has two semi-parents. How could we, two FBI agents, partners, manage to adopt her? We could never give her the life she deserves. Imagine the questions she'd ask." "If we don't have her in our care, worse things than foster care may happen to her. There are people out there who want to erase the product of experiments of the type which Emily and Geena are from." "No, Mulder," Scully said slowly. "I don't think they are from the same experiment. Maybe a tangent. But not the exact same." "Because she has a human father and mother." "Yes." "Then how did that guy find her? Do you even know who that man is?" "His name is Charles Spender, Mulder. He worked with me on Emily's case. Well, he did, sort of." "Spender?" "Not OUR Spender." "Sort of?" "He changed his name to Spender after he found he had been adopted. He wanted to have his real name, I suppose. He was Agent Neri." "Have you ever met him?" "Yes, Mulder. I have met him. I worked with him, remember? I talked with him over the phone. I wrote to him. He faxes me things and mails me things. Okay?" "Does he sound the same over the phone?" "Mulder, we have to think of a plan to get to that child. I want to meet her. I want you to meet her." "Charles Spender may not be who you think he is, Scully." "Right, so who is he, Mulder? Fluke man? Deep Throat, back from the dead? This isn't important right now." "Maybe Charles Spender is the cigarette smoking man." "No, Mulder. No. I know his voice." "He could change it over the phone." "Why? Why help us out?" "Because it could benefit him somehow. Somewhere along the line, it could help him for us to have that child. Can you call him? Call him and tell him this. You and I are going to get married. We're going to Seattle, and we're going to stop by Geena's house. She's had four foster family's in one year, Scully. They'll want to give her to us. We adopt her, take her back here. You call him and tell him that and see what he says." "Fine. Fine, Mulder." Scully glared at her partner, who held up his hands and gave her an exasperating look. She picked up the phone and angrily punched in numbers. "Hello, is Charles Spender there please?" she asked politely. "This is Charles Spender," a young voice said. "This is Dana Scully." "Dana, how are you? Did you get the files I sent?" "Yes, we did." "We?" "I've included my partner for obvious reasons." "Yes, yes of course." "We have a plan." "A plan to?" "Adopt Geena. Mulder and I are going to get married," Scully said, pausing for a second to look at Mulder. She felt tears prick her eyes, and looked quickly away. "We'll take the papers we get from that and all the other papers and such that we have, and go to Seattle to adopt Geena. Judging from what I've read in these papers, she's still up for adoption." "Are you and Mulder really getting married or is that just for the adoption?" "We haven't worked that out yet," Scully said bravely. "Excellent plan. Once you decide where the child will live, I would like to know. I feel you will be a wonderful mother, Dana." "Thank you. I have to discuss this with my partner, and we will get back to you as soon as possible." "Good-bye." "Bye." Scully hung up the phone and looked at Mulder, who was standing behind his desk. "Mulder, whatever you thought he was going to say...he didn't say it. He said that once we work out the details of the...of the marriage and where she'll stay when we get back, he's all for it." "Scully, I know how much you want this. I...I've wanted to do this for a while." "Do what, Mulder?" "Well, I...you know last night, when you said I was your best- friend?" "Yes." "There's no way I can say this, Scully. I don't know how." Mulder's forehead was drawn up, and he walked over to her. "Say what, Mulder?" she asked softly. "That...that I love you. That I want you to marry me. Who else is there, Scully, for either of us?" "You want to marry me because there's no one else." "No. I want to marry you because you are who you are. Because I love you. Because...because of you, Scully, there is no one else for me to marry," he said, pulling a small velvet box from his coat. "God, Mulder." "What?" "Well, this is a beautiful ring, you just asked me to marry you, and you just said you love me." "And?" Scully closed the box thoughtfully, then re-opened it. "I love you, Mulder. Really. I do." "But?" "I will marry you." "Wha-" "Don't ask any more questions," Scully interrupted, and she handed the open box to Mulder. He looked bewildered for a moment, then saw the gleam in her eye. He grinned, and slipped the ring on her finger. "I've never even kissed you, Mulder," she said quietly, looking into his eyes. "There's a first time for everything." Scully reached up to his waiting mouth, and they kissed. 'Finally,' she thought. She parted her lips, and his tongue darted into her mouth. "Agents?" came a deep voice from the door. "Sir?" Scully said, breaking away from Mulder and regaining her composure before Mulder. "I, um, have some more information on Geena," the assistant director told them. He took a few steps into the room and handed Scully a thin file. "Thank you, Sir." "Don't let...that...get out, agents. For the good of everyone involved." They nodded, looking around sheepishly, and Skinner left. "What does it say?" Mulder asked a few moments later. "Geena is out of her foster home and into the youth center." "Sounds like a charming youngster." "Quite." "Scully, I believe we have some papers to sign--who will be our witness?--and a plane to Seattle to catch." "Do you think Skinner will get us into trouble?" "No. He's a friend." "I hope so." "I know so." Seattle Home for Children 9:24am "Dana Scully and Fox Mulder? You chose to keep your maiden name, I presume. Come into my office," said Juliane Halloran. The agents followed her into a small office, and sat before her in hard plastic chairs. "Now, this is your story. I am going to re-tell it to you as I've heard it, so please correct any mistakes I make." Mulder and Scully nodded solemnly. "You met through work--you're FBI agents. The second year of working together you had a child together--Geena--who was taken from you shortly after her birth. DNA matching confirms that she is, indeed, the product of you two. You gave up hope of ever finding Geena, presuming her dead, and for the next three and a half years, you tried to suppress your feelings for each other, but they kept resurfacing. Then, earlier this year, you began to see each other more and more outside of work. You decided to get married, and shortly after you became engaged, word came to you that Geena had been found. So you came here to get her back. Is that correct?" "Yes," Mulder responded. "Dana?" "Yes." "When you go back to your home, where will that be?" "My apartment," said Scully. "And you have a room the child can sleep in?" "Yes." "Where will she go while you are at work?" "Pre-school, to her grandmother's, or we'll hire a nanny." "I understand that you are field agents." "Yes." "Are your lives in danger often?" "As much as any person involved in the law force," replied Mulder evenly. "All right. Although I know that you are her biological parents, I need you to sign these adoption forms. It's wonderful to know that Geena will have a stable home. She's a very smart child. She's waiting in the playroom for you." "Thank you." Mulder rose, and held his hand out to Scully. She smiled up at him as she took it, and they walked into the playroom together. Juliane followed and pointed out their daughter. "She's the little redhead over in the corner." Scully looked to the corner to see a small girl, red hair atop her pudgy childish face, hazel eyes looking straight back at her. The girl smiled at the two agents, who walked toward her. "Hi Geena," said Mulder. "Geena, we're going to be your new parents," Scully said, kneeling down beside the girl. "Can I...can I call you Mommy and Daddy?" asked the child in a small voice. "Of course you can." The girl stood, facing Scully. "You have red hair, just like me," she said, touching Scully's hair. "Yes, I do." "Are you foster parents?" "No." "Then what are you?" asked Geena, eyes narrowing. Scully looked at Mulder, eyebrows raised. 'Smart kid,' she thought. "We're your real parents, Geena." "Really?" "Yes." "And I can call you Mommy and Daddy?" "Yes." "Mommy," said the child. "Daddy." Mulder took Geena's hand, and Geena reached for Scully's. "Let's go, Mommy," said Geena, smiling. Scully stood, and the three walked out the door together. "I've never seen her be that nice to anyone," remarked Juliane as the trio left.  Scully's apartment, 9:45pm "This is going to be my room?" "Yep." "And you are just across the hall?" "Yep." "I like this. I like you." "I like you, too, Geena," Scully said. "Where's Daddy?" "He went to get some things." "I'm tired." "Would you like to go to bed?" "In my new bed. Yes." "All right. Can you change yourself?" "Will you help me, Mommy?" Scully helped her daughter change into her pajamas, a pink polyester nightgown that brushed the floor with its lace trim. "G'night, Mommy," said Geena, smiling from her bed. She clutched a small bear, grey that had once been white, and was soon asleep. Scully leaned in the doorway, watching the small girl sleep. She started when Mulder came up behind her. "Mulder. What do you think?" "She's smart." "Yeah. Did you get everything you needed?" "Yeah." "What are we going to tell Skinner?" "Nothing." "He'll find out." "Maybe." "Eventually, he will, Mulder. Then what?" "We'll tell him that though we love each other very much, it won't affect our working habits at all." Mulder put his hand against her cheek, and smiled down at her. She pulled him to her in a hug, and they walked, arms around each other, to the bedroom. "Mulder...this is all so sudden," Scully said, pulling him down on the bed with her. "I know. I know." "I wish...I wish that it were true, that I really had had that child. A child." "Maybe someday you will." "I'm thirty four, Mulder. Almost thirty five." "Age didn't stop Madonna." Scully didn't say anything, standing up to change into her own pajamas. Mulder watched her change, silent, taking in every move she made. "Mulder, are you watching me?" "Yes, Scully." "Why?" "Because I love you. Because you're beautiful." She blushed, and threw her pajama top over her head. "And what are you planning to change into?" "Boxers," Mulder replied, standing. He stripped down to his boxers, then lay back down. "Which side of the bed is yours, Scully?" "The right." "Okay." Mulder climbed under the covers of the left side, and Scully walked around to the right. "This is weird, Mulder," Scully said, turning to face him. "I know." "I love you." "I love you." Scully lay facing her partner--her husband--head propped up by her hand. Her hair fell into her face, and Mulder immediately reached out to tuck it behind her ear. "I love your hair, Scully." "I noticed." She leaned toward him, and their lips met. She opened her mouth and he caressed her tongue with his own. She felt weak and fell against him. He broke the kiss, looking into her eyes, and kissed her cheek, her forehead, her neck. She began to kiss him, on the jaw, on the neck, on the ears, anywhere she could reach. Their mouths reunited in a burst of passion, and Mulder moved her beneath him. "Do...do you want to, Mulder?" "Are you serious?" he asked, laughing a little. "I've been waiting." "Me too," she whispered, lifting her head to kiss him on the nose. She rested her head on the pillow and looked up into his eyes. They were hazel, just like Geena's.  Scully's Apartment, 9:00am the next morning.  "Good thing it's Sunday," Mulder remarked, waking to see Scully standing, fully clothed, next to the bed. "And good thing Skinner just called to tell us that we have a week off to get settled." "What did you tell him about us?" "The truth." "And?" "He didn't sound very surprised--he did catch us the other day- -and he said that for a month--after we get back next week--we'll be on a sort of trial, to see if the marriage interferes at all with our work. If it does, we get reassigned, X-Files are shut down, etc., etc. If not, well, everything stays the same." "Was last night a dream?" "No, Mulder," she said, kissing him quickly. "Where's Geena?" "Fast asleep." "I'm going to take a shower; I'll be right back." Mulder stood, and, finding he was still naked from the night before, froze for an instant before looking around for his boxers. Scully coughed slightly and he looked over at her. She was smiling, holding his boxers. He smiled back, and stepped over to retrieve them. Laughing at him, she jumped onto the bed, just out of his reach. He dove after her, pinning her onto the bed. He kissed her soundly, taking the boxers from her as he did. "Thank you, Scully," he said, donning the underwear. He walked out of the room, and Scully smiled after him. A few minutes later, Geena called from her room. "Mommy? Daddy?" Scully went to see her daughter. "Geena?" "Can we buy me some new clothes?" the child asked, standing in her nightgown and frowning at her suitcase. It was full of hand-me- downs and boys' clothes, such as old brown corduroys and carpenter overalls. "Yes. Today. What do you want to wear today, right now?" Geena picked out a green turtleneck and a pair of overalls, which she put on herself. She put on her sneakers, then held out her feet so Scully could tie the shoes. "Would you like me to fix your hair, honey?" "Can you put it into a ponytail?" "Yup." Scully took a brush and an elastic, and pulled the girl's hair away from her face, securing it with the elastic. "Beautiful," she said, and Geena ran to look in the mirror above the bureau in Scully's room. "Beautiful," she echoed. "Me?" "Yes, you," said Scully, touching the girl's small nose. "Karen--that was my old foster lady--she told me that red heads are always ugly." "She told you that?" "Yes. But I saw a picture of you and I knew it couldn't be true." "Thank you, Geena." "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" "Yes." "Where's Daddy?" "In the shower." "Let's make him breakfast!" Geena ran from the room with Scully on her heels. The little girl stopped when she got to the kitchen. "I don't know how to cook," she said, looking at her small feet. "That's okay, honey, I can teach you." "Can we make pancakes?" "Yep." When Mulder came out of the bedroom, fully clothed, he found his wife and daughter making pancakes--from scratch. They both had flour all over their faces and in their hair, from what looked like the remnants of a flour fight. He came up behind Scully, and put his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. "Morning, Daddy. We're makin' pancakes." "So I see," said Mulder, kissing Scully quickly on the cheek, coming away with flour on his mouth. Scully grinned at him and handed him a cloth towel. "Want me to set the table?" he asked, and Scully nodded. He began the search for cutlery, and soon found it. He made three settings, and sat down at one of them. "Daddy, there isn't any food yet," Geena said, rolling her eyes at him. He grinned at her, and got up. "Can I help?" he asked Scully. "Men don't cook," Geena rebuked, and Mulder grinned again. "This man does," he said. "Watch this." He proceeded to flip a pancake into the air. It landed gooey side down on the frying pan, and Geena clapped. Scully smiled and he took a bow. When they had finished eating and cleaning the dishes, Geena was ready to go shopping. "I want a pink dress, a blue dress, a green dress, a purple dress, a yellow dress, a orange dress, and a...a...white dress, and a red dress, and a...a..."she trailed off, out of colors. "Where should we go, Mulder?" Scully asked. "We? I have to go shopping, too?" he asked innocently. "Yes. Let's go to the mall." "Oh yipee." "Daddy, I'm going to need new clothes. I'm growing, you know." "You are, are you?" "Yeah, see?" Geena held out her arm and flexed the muscles. Scully stifled a laugh. "Who taught you to do that?" she asked. "Jerry," she replied, as if it would explain everything. Scully let it go. She leaned over to kiss Mulder, then the three of them went to get clothes. That evening after Geena had been put to bed, Mulder and Scully sat on the couch together. He had his arm around her, and she smiled up at him. He leaned down the kiss her nose, and she sighed. "I love you, Mulder," she said, and stood. "I'm tired. Let's go to bed." "Want me to clean up the dishes?" Mulder asked, standing. "If you want to, but I can do it in the morning." "I'll do it now. Go to bed." He kissed her on the nose, and she walked off toward her bedroom. Mulder leaned over the counter, staring at the hard top. He ran one hand through his hair and bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes. He blinked and choked back the tears. He turned on the water to cover the sound of his crying, and furiously began washing the dishes. He almost dropped the plate he was scrubbing over and over again when he heard a noise behind him. He put the plate down and whirled around, to see Geena, clutching her teddy bear, staring at him. "Why are you crying, Daddy?" she asked softly, walking toward him. "Oh Geena, what are you doing up?" Mulder shakily asked in the best Daddy voice he could muster. "I heard you crying. Are you sad?" "I don't know, Geena." "Do you need a hug?" He smiled, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. He opened his arms to the little girl and she ran into them, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, then yawned. "I'm going back to bed. Don't cry anymore, okay? Daddy? Promise?" "I promise." "Cross your heart and hope to die? Stick ten needles in your eye?" "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick ten needles in my eye," Mulder repeated solemnly, and Geena smiled, then scampered off to bed. He finished the dishes, carefully drying and putting away each one, then went to find Scully. She was asleep, already breathing deeply, so he kissed her cheek and lay down beside her. He stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, then turned onto his side. 'I should be so happy,' he thought. 'But I feel like crying.' The tears he had shed while washing the dishes burned into his mind, depriving him of sleep. He was awake when Scully cried out in her sleep. He was awake when she moved closer to him, trying to get warmer. He was awake when she awoke from a bad dream, looked frantically around, and finally found him, awake, laying beside her. "Mulder, did I wake you?" she asked in a husky whisper. "No," he replied. "What's wrong?" "I just can't sleep." She was on her side, facing him, and he lay on his back. He turned to face her, head propped up by his arm. She reached out to touch his cheek. "Are you okay?" she asked softly. "Scully. My sister...she...I had a meeting with her." "You--" she lowered her voice. "You what?!" "At a diner, while you were sick, last year. She...she thinks the cigarette smoking man is her father. She said she'd call me, that she'd contact me, but she hasn't, she hasn't called or anything. 'I have a family now, Fox' she told me. She hasn't called, Scully," Mulder broke off, blinking rapidly and mentally cursing the tears that burned his eyes. "Mulder, don't. Don't cry." Mulder's mouth drew down into a frown, and his chin trembled. Scully moved closer to him and kissed his mouth, sweetly and quickly. A single tear, leaving a shiny track, fell from his eye, and he looked down at Scully. His partner. His best friend. His lover. His wife. She kissed his cheek where the tear had been, and wrapped her arms around him as well as she could. He cried silently, body racked by sobs, against her shoulder. She kissed his head, and rubbed his back, and held him. "I...I promised Geena..." he said quietly, then bit his lip. "What?" "I was crying before, doing the dishes," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "And Geena awoke?" "She made me promise not to cry. Scully, I can't. I can't be good father or anything. I can't keep a simple promise." "Don't say things like that, Mulder. Everybody needs to cry sometime. I know I told you not to, but...You didn't cry in front of Geena, which is probably what she meant. You are a good father. And a good husband. *And* a good partner. *And* a good best friend." "I don't deserve--" Scully interrupted him with a kiss, and he yawned, finally tired. "What time is it?" "Two thirty." "Good night, Scully." "Good night, Mulder. I love you." "I love you, too," he mumbled, and closed his eyes. Scully watched him until he was breathing evenly, then allowed herself to fall asleep. They were awoken in the morning when Geena jumped on them in bed. "Get up, get up, come on there's someone at the door, Mommy!!" she cried, giggling as she bounced from her father to her mother. Scully shook her head and climbed out of bed, leaving Mulder to deal with Geena. She pulled on her bathrobe and went to open the door. "Hi Mom," she said. "Why didn't you use your key?" Her mother walked into her daughter's living room and sat immediately down on her couch. "Mom, what's wrong?" Scully asked, shutting the door. "I--I forgot my key, Dana. I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" "I needed to get up anyway. Are you all right?" "I'm fine. I just...I received a call this morning. The man on the phone told me to watch out. 'Watch out, Maggie,' he said." "Did he say anything else?" Scully asked, sitting next to her mother. "He told me to watch out for my family. Then he hung up. I came immediately here, Dana. I--I don't know what to do." "Mom...there's something I need to tell you," Scully said. "Did you get a call, too?" "No." Mulder walked out of the bathroom, fully clothed, and walked toward the two women on the couch, holding Geena's hand. Scully's mom looked at her, astonished. Scully could see her mother thinking and trying to reason with herself. "Mom, Mulder and I got married." "When?" she asked, mouth dropping open, staring at Geena. "Two days ago." "And the child?" "Is our daughter." "Adopted?" "Yes, but she's ours. Biologically." "You had a child?" "No. Geena, come here to meet your grandmother." "Hi, Gramma," the little girl said, standing before Maggie Scully. "Dana, I don't understand..." "Geena, honey?" "Yes, Mommy?" "Can you go with Mul...Daddy to change into your new pink dress?" "Yep! C'mon, Daddy!" Geena ran over to her father, taking his hand and pulling him toward her room. Mulder looked back at Scully and grinned at her, following his daughter. "Mom, I don't know what to say about this phone call. Maybe it was nothing. But we'll be careful. I promise." "I don't want anything to happen to you--and your new family." "Thank you, Mom." "Can you explain....?" "Mom, remember Emily?" "Yes." "Geena is like Emily. I didn't have her, but she was created from my ova. She's different, however, because the father of Geena is not an alien, or whatever it was that created Emily. Geena was created from sperm taken from Mulder and ova taken from me. Mom, I know it doesn't make sense, but the DNA testing came through. She's brilliant, and we love her." "Do you love each other?" "Yes." "Because of the child?" "No." "I wish you'd told me," Maggie whispered as Mulder and Geena re-entered. To her granddaughter she said, "Geena, you look lovely." "Thank you, Gramma. Is it okay if I call you Gramma?" "Yes." Geena grinned, and jumped into Maggie's lap. "Mom, is it okay if Geena stays with you some days of the week?" "On Wednesdays I have bridge club, and Fridays I visit Anne. She's completely welcome all other days." "Great." "I get to go to Gramma's?" asked Geena, bouncing around the living room. "Yep, but not yet. Starting next week, okay?" Scully said, asking her mother with the question, addressing her daughter. Maggie nodded, then stood. "I have a doctor's appointment today, and I'm meeting a friend for lunch. I have to go. Dana, Fox, take care of yourselves." Scully stood to hug her mother, and Geena wrapped her arms around Maggie's legs. A bright light flashed, and the three females looked around, startled. They found Mulder looking sheepish, holding a camera. "Kodak moment," he said, blushing. "Mulder, I'm not even dressed!" Scully cried. "You still look beautiful," he said, and it was her turn to blush. Maggie left, and Scully went to get dressed. "Why does Mommy call you Mulder?" Geena asked her father, sitting next to him on the couch. "Because that's what she's always called me." "Is that your name? Mulder? Mulder what?" "Mulder's my last name." "What is your first name?" "Fox." "That's an animal," Geena said, giggling. "That's my name," Mulder said, poking her in the stomach. She laughed, and jumped onto him, tickling him with her small fingers. His stomach growled, making her laugh even harder.  Month and a half later, 7:30am, The apartment "I'm hungry, Daddy. Let's make Mommy breakfast!" "What do you want her to have?" "Um....eggs and toast." "Okay, let's see what we can do." Scully came out of the shower and heard Mulder and Geena in the kitchen, clattering around. As she dried off and changed, the smell of breakfast came seeping back into the room. She sat on the bed, tears coming to her eyes. She had wanted for so long for someone to cook her breakfast. She blow-dried and brushed her hair, and walked out into the kitchen. Geena turned to grin at her, and the spatula she was holding flew out of her grasp, hitting Mulder on the head. He blinked a few times as his daughter and wife stared, and he laughed, showing them he was okay. Scully hugged her daughter, kissing her nose, and was then instructed to sit down and wait for the food. As they were eating, Mulder's cell phone rang. He apologized, then ran to get it from the bedroom. He came back a few minutes later, kissed Scully on the ear, whispering to her. "That was Skinner. Someone broke into our office last night. He needs one of us to go check it out." She nodded, and he kissed her. He left the room, waving good- bye to Geena, and they heard his car leave. "Why didn't Daddy wait for you today, Mommy?" "Our boss needed him there right away, honey. Let's get ready to go to Gramma's house." "I'm not going there today," Geena reminded her mother. "You're not?" Scully asked, confused. "Remember, Mommy? Today you said you'd take me into work with you." "I know, honey, I was just playing." "What should I bring?" Geena asked, skipping around the small kitchen. "Pack your bag with toys, and bring your sippy cup." "Okay." Geena ran to get ready, and Scully cleaned up the dishes. They left soon after, heading toward the FBI building. Five minutes after they had locked the door behind them, the phone rang. And rang. The answering machine finally picked up. "Hi, this is Dana Scully. Leave a message and I'll call you back." "Scully...Scully this is Mulder...Scully they...they're here...no, not aliens or anything, but the bad guys, or however you'd like to put it. I'm not at the office, I was being followed. Scully...pick up if you're there. I love you. I love Geena too. Scully I love you so much. I'm so sorry that....I'm sorry that I won't be able to come back today. I love you...they're here....Scully!!!!!!!" Mulder's voice was at first an urgent message. His last utterance of her name had been a dragged out scream, cut off before he finished. "Mommy! I forgot my teddy! We have to go back!" Geena cried from her car seat in the back of the car. Scully sighed, smiled at her daughter, and turned the car around. Scully stood in her living room, listening to her messages. The first was from an insurance company, and the second was from Mulder. She stood frozen, listening. Geena came into the living room to find her mother staring straight ahead. "Scully...Scully this is Mulder..." "Mommy?" Geena asked, creeping closer. "Scully they...they're here...no, not aliens or anything, but the bad guys, or however you'd like to put it. I'm not at the office, I was being followed. Scully...pick up if you're there. I love you. I love Geena too. Scully I love you so much. I'm so sorry that....I'm sorry that I won't be able to come back today. I love you...they're here....Scully!!!!!!!" "Mommy!!" Geena cried, diving into Scully's lap. Scully felt a numb wave wash over her. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak. "Mulder..." she whispered. "I love you, too." "Mommy, where's Daddy? Who are They?" "Geena," Scully said, looking down at the distraught child in her lap. "Geena," she repeated, hugging her child. "I don't know who They are, but they won't keep Mulder away for very long. He always finds a way. Always." Scully picked up the phone and dialed Skinner's office. "Sir, Agent Mulder, is he in the building?" she asked immediately. "No, he didn't arrive." "I have reason to believe that he may have been kidnapped." "Agent Scully?" "I received this message," she said, playing the message for him, over the phone. "Sir?" "I'll put my best agents on it right now. You need to come down here right away." "I have my daughter with me, sir." "Is there no where you could leave her?" "No." "Bring her along. I want you in on this investigation." "I'll be there as soon as possible, sir." Scully hung up the phone and knelt down to Geena's eye-level. "Geena, honey, Daddy might not come home for a while. But he'll come back some day, okay? Do you understand that he'll be okay?" "Yes." "I know it's going to be hard, living without him, but it's got to be done. He'll come back." Geena picked up her teddy bear, and Scully rushed her out to the car. Geena climbed into her car seat on her own, and Scully climbed into the front, slammed the door, and sped toward the FBI building. FBI Building 8:35pm "Agent Scully...I'm glad to see you," the assistant director said. "Sir, I'd like you to meet our daughter, Geena. Geena, this is Daddy and Mommy's boss, Mr. Skinner." "Hello, Mr. Skinner," Geena said, sticking out her small hand. The AD smiled, took her hand and shook it. "Sir, somewhere between here and my apartment, Agent Mulder was taken away. His car should be somewhere." "We already have agents looking." "What can I do?" "I need you to look through your files, in your office. I believe someone took something last night, and whatever it is that's missing may help you." "Thank you, sir." "We'll let you know if anything turns up." Scully nodded, and led her daughter out the door and down into the basement. She unlocked the office door, and looked around the small office. Nothing seemed overly out of order, though it was never really in any order anyway. Geena sat down on the floor and took out her toys; she was soon immersed in her play. Scully began to look around the office for anything that was missing. Finding nothing on Mulder's desk out of the ordinary, she went to tackle the file cabinets, starting with A. In the front of each section was a list of all the files that were to be contained within the drawer. She took the first one, and began to check off the files. An hour later, she was through the A's, B's and C's. Nothing was missing. She looked over to Geena, who was still playing on the floor. When she had finished, Geena was asleep. It was six thirty, and Scully's stomach rumbled. She looked at the list of missing files. There were three missing. The first she came across--or didn't come across--was the case on Mulder, when he had killed two people and had then forgotten. His name had been cleared, and Scully had filed it as an X-File. The other two missing were on her: when she had been abducted, and when she had had her bout with cancer. She frowned, trying to see the connection, trying to use the information to find Mulder. "Mommy?" Geena mumbled, standing up. "Yes?" "Is Daddy here yet?" "No, honey, I'm sorry." "I miss him." "I know, I miss him too." Geena's bottom lip quivered, and Scully walked quickly over. She sat down on the cold cement floor, and pulled Geena into her lap. "I won't cry, Mommy. I promise. Crying is bad." "It's okay to cry sometimes, Geena. If you're really, really sad, it's okay to cry." "Mommy?" "Yeah?" "I'm really, really sad," Geena said, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked, trying to hold them back, but they began to fall. She leaned her head against Scully's shoulder, and silently cried, just as Mulder had done the night before. Scully rubbed her back, smoothed her hair, and kissed her head. "Daddy will come back, Geena. He always does." "He--he does?" "Yes."  Place, Unknown; Time, Unknown Mulder sat alone in the dark. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was wet. He missed Scully, he missed Geena. He closed his eyes, picturing the two of them. The cement wall he leaned against was rough, and his head hurt. A bright light was turned on, and Mulder stood, blinking, trying to see. Three men entered the room, one tall, two short. The tall one held a tray. The tray contained medical instruments, and Mulder backed up to the rough wall. "There's no use in hiding," said the man as he prepared a hypodermic needle. Mulder was grabbed from both side by the two short men, and the tall man injected him with whatever was in the needle. Mulder fell to the floor, unconscious. FBI Building The phone rang. Scully almost dropped Geena, who was still in her lap, when trying to answer it. She finally did. "Hello?" "Agent Scully. We found his car." "Sir?" "We lifted prints off the handles and such, but there were so many different sets." "Did you find anything else?" "No." "The files that are missing are on Mulder and me, sir." "Not as helpful as I had hoped, I assume." "No, sir." "I'll call you if something turns up." Skinner hung up, and Scully sighed. The phone rang again, and she picked it up. There were two clicks, then nothing. She frowned at the receivor, knowing the message to mean Deep Throat had a message for Mulder. She took Geena's hand, and they left the office. Scully walked out of the building, looking around and around, seeing no one. They walked a short distance, still looking for anyone who might be following. "That man is following us, Mommy," Geena said, suddenly, turning and pointing at a man leaning against a building with a paper. Scully turned into the next alley she saw, and waited for the man--if he was the man--to arrive. "Agent Scully, my name is Harold J.O'Brien," the man said, stepping around the corner. She nodded. "Do you have something to tell me?" "Yes. Agent Mulder is alive. I believe you already knew that. This address will help you." "Who are you?" "Agent Scully, I am no comparison to Deep Throat or X. Even to Marita. But I can assure you that this information is as valuable to you as any piece they could have given you," he turned to walk away. "Thank you," Scully said, taking the paper. "Harold," Geena said, her tone almost like Scully's. "Yes?" he said, turning to face Scully. "This information will lead me to my Daddy?" Geena asked. "I think so." "Thanks." Scully looked down at Geena questioningly, then back to Harold, who had gone. "Geena, honey, why did you talk to the man?" "Because I don't think he could have lied to me." "You're very grown up, Geena." "I'm still little," she said stubbornly, and Scully reached for her hand. "Sir? I'm taking Geena home; she's tired," Scully said into the phone. They were back in the office, Geena packing her toys and Scully calling Skinner. "I'll let you know if anything shows up." "Thank you, sir." Scully hung up the phone and sighed. She and Geena went to the car, and Scully drove to the address on the paper. They pulled up before a large office building. Scully looked back at her daughter, who was staring out the window. Scully looked in the same direction, but didn't see what Geena did. "Geena? You're going to come in there with me, okay? You have to stay right by my side the whole time, okay?" "Yes, Mommy." "Do you promise? You have to be quiet, too." "Cross my heart, hope to die, stick ten needles in my eye," the little girl said solemnly, and Scully cringed inwardly at the thought of needles piercing her child's eye. They walked hand in hand to the front door of the building. The door opened easily, and the two walked into a hallway with a ceiling stretching far up beyond the reach of their eyes. It was dark. Scully held tightly to Geena's hand as they made their way past locked door after locked door. The doors had windows, and they peered into each. No Mulder. They came to the end of the hallway and had two choices. Up or down. "Up or down, Geena," Scully said. "Down." They went down. The elevator rumbled and went very, very slowly. Scully thought they'd never stop moving. The doors opened to show a murky, low ceilinged hallway, with greenish lights illuminating it. They walked slowly down it, seeing no doors. They came to the end, and again had two choices. This time, it was left or right. "You choose, Mommy." They went to the right. They walked along the strange corridor, the light playing tricks with their shadows. Still, no doors. They came to the end of the long hall, and found a door. It had no window, and Scully closed her eyes as she pushed against the smooth metal. It gave, and they entered a small, dimly lit room. There were four flashlights on one wall, and a panel of light switches on the other side. There were the two doors on the other two sides. Scully took down one of the flashlights and they shoved their way into the next area. Complete darkness. Scully stood, Geena hanging on tightly to her hand, blinking for a few shocked seconds. Then she switched on the light. She shone it in front of them, and found a cell. Empty. It looked like a prison cell from a movie; an old movie. A movie in which the inmates are tortured and killed. She shone the flashlight to the left, and it didn't reach the end. She shone it to the right, and saw the wall only about fifty feet away. They walked to the right, looking in each cell. No Mulder. Then they turned to walk the other direction. They passed cell after cell, all empty. Scully began to half hope, maybe this one, maybe this one. She also hoped that they wouldn't find him here. That he was somewhere else. Somewhere nice and clean. That as she and Geena searched in this basement prison, Skinner had received a call. A call telling him where Mulder was. She shone the flashlight into the next cell. "Daddy!" Geena whispered exitedly. Scully stepped closer to the cell, shining the light through the bars. It was Mulder, indeed. A beaten, unconcious Mulder. She wished Geena wasn't there. Scully tried the door to the cell, and to her surprise, it opened. She ran the few steps to Mulder, Geena right behind her. She felt for a pulse, and found it. It wasn't strong, but it wasn't weak. Sighing with relief, she pulled his head into her lap, cradling it. "Geena," she said. "Geena, he's going to be okay, as long as we can get him out of here." "How are we going to do that, Mommy?" "I don't know, sweetie." Scully frowned down at her partner, worry filling her. Mulder weighed much more than she, and Geena wouldn't be much help. She kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair away from his face. "Daddy doesn't look very well, Momma." "I know, sweetie," Scully said. 'Momma?' she thought. 'Momma?' The flashlight dimmed suddenly, and went out. Geena let out a small cry, and Scully shook the light, trying to get it on again. She tapped it gently against the ground, to no avail. "Geena?" "Momma?" 'Momma?' Scully thought again. 'Where did *that* come from?' "Honey, come sit next to me and Daddy." The little girl found Scully and snuggled against her. Scully put one arm around her daughter and the other around Mulder's chest. "Geena, do you remember where the wall is?" Scully asked, praying the child had the photgraphic memory her father had. "I think just behind you." Geena stood, hands in front of her, and slowly walked toward the wall. She touched it with her outstretched hands, and turned, back against the rough concrete. "Momma, it's right here." "I'm going to lean against it. I'll be right there, honey, I just need to move Mulder with me." Scully pulled Mulder and Geena put her hand on her mother's shoulder, guiding her. Scully finally had her back against the wall, and she pulled Mulder so his head was in her lap. He was on his side, and she rubbed his arm absently. She put her other arm around her daughter, and she stared straight ahead. "Momma, I'm scared of the dark." "I'm right here, honey. The last time I was in the dark like this, I was scared too, sweetie." "You were?" "Yes. And Mulder, he--he protected me." "Like you're protecting him?" "Yeah, like I'm protecting him." "You're a good mommy," Geena remarked, leaning her head against her mother. "Can I go to sleep?" "Yes." "Good night, Momma." "Good night, Geena." Geena was asleep in minutes. Scully stayed awake, reminded of another time Mulder had his head in her lap. 'I won't fall asleep,' she had assured him. She hadn't. But this time, she did. Scully awoke to a bright light shining in her face. She blinked rapidly and felt Geena beside her, stirring. Mulder was still unconsious, but she kissed his nose carefully. She looked up in alarm as she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. She tried to stand but her legs were asleep and Mulder's head was still in her lap. She looked around, terrified, and pulled Geena closer to her. "Momma...." Geena moaned, frightened. "O'Brien, look at this. The wife and daughter came to visit," said a short man, standing at the entrance to the cell. "How the hell did they get in here? Who was guarding this place last night?" Scully heard Harold say, but she couldn't see him. "You, uh, let us leave, O'Brien." "Damnit." "What should we do with them?" asked another short man. "They're awake," said Harold. "Not all of them," said the first man, snorting. "Dana Scully, Geena. How are you?" asked Harold. "You set us up," she spat. "Who me?" he asked, innocently. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked. "Tut, tut, you shouldn't swear in front of children." "Shut the fuck up!" yelled Geena, surprising everyone. "Geena!" Scully rebuked. "Sorry." "Now where did she learn a thing like that?" asked Harold, looking at Mulder. "Well, Dr. Scully, how's the patient?" "Unconcious." "What else can you tell me?" "Nothing." "Well then. Boys, take Mulder upstairs. Put Dana in my room. Leave Geena with me." "No!" cried Scully, gently moving Mulder's head off her lap, and standing. Her legs felt tingly and weak, but she stood her ground. She held onto Geena with one arm, crushing her toward her leg. "I won't let you take my daughter," she said forcefully. "I'm sorry, Dana, you don't have a say in this." "Momma....I love you," said Geena, looking up at her mother. "I love you too, honey." The 'boys' were taking Mulder away. They picked him up and laid him on a stretcher, then one of them wheeled him away. The other came back for Scully. He grabbed her arm, and pulled her gun from its holster. "Damn," she said. 'Why didn't I think of that?' she thought. 'God I am so stupid.' The short man tossed the gun to Harold, who took out the bullets, then handed it back to the other man. He stuck it into the bag he had on his back, and grabbed Scully by her arms once more. She twisted around to fce her daughter. "Geena!" she cried. "I'll come back for you. I'll find you. I love you!" "Momma, I know!" cried the child. Tears sprung to Geena's eyes as she was held back by Harold. Scully twisted and writhed so much that the man stopped, threw her against a wall, and knocked her across the head with his fist. She would be out for about an hour, he thought, and tossed her over his shoulder to carry to his boss's room. When Scully awoke, she looked frantically around, not knowing where she was. Then she remembered the horrible events of the day before. Mulder, unconcious and beaten; Geena, crying and calling her Momma; Harold, ordering the three split up. Tears came to her eyes, but she bit them back. She sat up, looking around the room. It was a brightly lit windowless room with a comfortable bed in which she was sitting. She was wearing her suit from the day before, and she felt grungy. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked to the door, but it was locked. The room contained only the bed and a bedside table. She went over to the table and opened the small drawer. In it were condoms. 'Oh god,' she thought, slamming the drawer shut. 'Mulder, oh god.' She was sitting on the edge of the bed, biting back her tears, when Harold came in, locking the door behind him. "You are disgusting," she told him. "Oh don't tell me you've been snooping around. I hate snoops." "Where's Geena?" "In a safe place." "Where's Mulder?" "We took him to the nearest hospital." "Did you notify the FBI?" "Of course not. We redgistered him as an unidentified male." "When do I get to leave?" "When I'm done with you." Scully hung her head, anger filling her heart. She flashed her eyes at the man. "Do all red heads have such a temper?" he asked, coming closer to her. She didn't answer, just looked away from him. He jerked her head toward him, and made her look at him. "Dana. Cooperate, or things may not go very well for your child." "I'll cooperate," she said quietly. "Good. Strip for me," he commanded. She stood up and quickly took of her clothes. She stood, naked, shaking, tears welling up in her eyes. She folded her arms across her chest and crossed her legs. He stood in front of her, and tore her arms away from her body. She wouldn't look at him, and he worked his way around her body. She was thrown onto the bed, and she closed her eyes, trying to numb her body. She heard the drawer open, and felt pain when he tried to enter her and found her dry. He slapped her face but she still didn't respond to him. He re-clothed, pushed her off the bed, and commanded her to put on her clothes. He then kicked her out of the room, telling her how to exit the building. The street-lights were on, and she knew it was very late. She almost ran to her car, and saw Geena's things in the back. The car clock said two fifteen. She began to cry again, looking up at the building. Harold's words 'in a safe place' came back to her, and she tried to make herself believe that Geena was indeed in a safe place, being taken care of. Scully wiped her tears from her eyes, trying to compose herself. She turned the car on, and drove to the nearest hospital. "Hello, my name is Dana Scully," she said to the attendant at the front desk. "I have reason to believe my husband was brought to this hospital sometime today. Have you admitted any unidentified patients?" "We admitted three today. Can you describe him for me, Dana?" "He's tall, about six feet, dark hair, hazel eyes, muscular but not a body builder. He's unconsious, with bruises and cuts all over his body." "Yes, he's in room 186. Right down that corridor." "Thank you so much," Scully said, walking quickly in the direction the kind assistant had pointed. She saw room 186 and ran to get inside. Mulder lay on the bed, IV dripping into his arm. She picked up his chart and scanned it; they knew about what she did medically. "Mulder," she whispered, picking up his lifeless hand. "Mulder, I'm here. I love you so much, Mulder. You mean everything to me. You and Geena. Mulder, they...they took Geena. Mulder." Scully got up to close the door; no one would be in for a while, she knew. She climbed up on the bed beside Mulder, who's lanky frame left enough room for her own petit one. She lay on her side, curled toward him, holding onto his hand, and cried silently, her whole body shaking, like Geena and Mulder before her. Only this time, there was no one there to comfort her. Scully awoke the next morning to find Mulder awake beside her. "Mulder, oh my god," she said, kissing him. She looked around and saw a few nurses standing around. "I'm sorry," she said, getting off the bed. "Sorry." "We just need to change some things around, Dana." She smoothed her hair and sat in the hard plastic chair at the edge of the room. Mulder was looking at her curiously, and she knew he what he was thinking. 'Where's Geena?' The nurses eventually left, and Scully walked over to Mulder. "How are you feeling?" she asked, holding his hand and leaning down to kiss his nose. "Better," he replied. "Where's Geena?" Scully felt tears well up in her eyes, and her mouth turn down. "Scully. Where is she?" "They--they took her, Mulder," she said, chin trembling. Mulder reached his hand up to her cheek, and cupped it. "We'll find her, Scully." "How? She's smart, Mulder, but she's small." "We'll find her." "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said, and her face twisted with the pain of losing her daughter. "Scully, honey, don't be sorry. There was nothing you could have done." "I had my gun on me, Mulder, but I was so concerned for Geena and for you that I forgot. Mulder, Geena would be here right now, with us, if I had remembered." "Come back up here, honey." She climbed back onto the bed, laying on her stomach. She turned her face toward his, and he kissed her. Her chin trembled, and she bit her lips to keep from crying. Tears were slipping out of the corners of her eyes, and Mulder kissed them, trying to make her feel better somehow. She turned her head the other way, and once again her body shook with her sobs. He rubbed her back with his free hand, trying to get her to turn toward him. "Scully, Scully, honey. Turn toward me. Let me comfort you. It's okay to cry sometimes, Scully. Honey." She turned toward him, curling up to him. He slipped his hand under her and pulled her small body to his, stroking her hair and her back, kissing her face. "I love you, Scully. I love you so much." "I love you, too, Mulder," she said softly, taking deep breaths to stop crying. "Sorry." "Don't be sorry." "Godamnit, Mulder, why does all this shit have to happen to us?" she asked angrily, raising her hand. She brought it carefully down, laying it across his stomach. 'She could have hit me,' he thought, amazed and frightened at the thought. "Mulder, Harold, he--he r-raped me," she said so softly he could almost not hear her. "What?!" he almost shouted, tightening his grip on her. "I thought you should know that...and that I'm okay. I'm going to be okay." "Did he...did he..." "He used a condom." Mulder was silent, but Scully felt his arm muscles tighten and loosen beneath her body. She looked at him, kissed his mouth, and smiled slightly. "I'm so glad to have you back, Mulder. I never want to lose you." "When do I get out of here?" he asked, kissing her soundly. "Let me go ask. Don't go anywhere," she warned, getting off the bed. Scully found a nurse and asked how long Mulder had to remain in the hospital. "The nurse says you'll be released this evening--around seven-- if you can stand by then." That Evening, at seven thirty. Mulder sat up, and swung his legs over the metal side frames. He stood, swayed slightly, then took a step. "I can walk," he said. A nurse came in to remove his IV's and give him his clothes. "Where are we, Scully?" he asked, suddenly realizing he had no idea where he was or how he'd really gotten there. "Baltimore," she replied. He changed into his clothes, and they walked out of the hospital, Mulder with his arm around Scully, more for support than comfort, though the action served both. They drove, all too aware of the silence that was the absence of their daughter. "Mulder, I don't know if I can do this," Scully whispered. She was close to tears again. "Do you want me to drive?" he asked, and she shook her head. "We'll find her." "I didn't tell Skinner where I was going. I told him I went home, to get Geena some food. What am I supposed to tell him, Mulder?" "The truth." "That could get me fired." Mulder frowned slightly, looking out the window. He became apparently fascinated with the passing scenery. *** "Mulder, I know you want me to tell the truth, but I don't think that in this case--" "So what are you going to say? I received a call at home that Agent Mulder was in a hospital in Baltimore? How are you going to explain away Geena?" Scully's brow furrowed with his harsh words. "I was thinking, Mulder, that I would tell him I took Geena home with me. When we arrived at my apartment, some men attacked me, and took us to that place. Then I'll go with the truth from there." "You have no signs of physical injury." "Stop being so godamn obstinate, Mulder." "I'm trying to help, Scully," Mulder said quietly, gazing out the window. She sighed, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She reached out to his thigh and rested her hand there, squeezing gently before removing her hand to take a sharp curve. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm sorry I let this happen. I...I'm sorry." It was his turn to touch her; his hand was on her shoulder within seconds. He moved his hand down to her elbow, gently, ever so gently, then squeezed, removing his hand as he began to speak. "No, Scully, it's not your fault. I need you to believe that. I know," said said, giving a short laugh. "I know I have blamed myself for Samantha's abduction for most of my life, but this time...this time it's different. Because of the situation. Because I won't let you live like I have. Because it's just not your fault." His words were soft, full of care, and all she could do was cry. She didn't sob; her tears came silently, slowly, down her cheeks in hot tracks. She hated crying; hated it for the reason she was crying, hated it because it showed she was weak, hated it because it was a deception to Mulder. He had meant his words to comfort her; they had. She could barely see through her tears, and pulled quietly off the curving road. She sat, silent, tears streaming down her face. Mulder silently un-buckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car, walking through the freezing air to the other door. He opened the trunk, then gently pulled her from the car. She was weak with crying, hate, regret, and remorse; he held her tightly and walked her to the trunk, pulling out the blanket he knew she kept there. Wrapping the blanket around her, he carefully gave her her control back, allowing her to sit ont he ground near the car on her own accord. He closed the doors of the car and went to sit by her, finding her laying on her side, still crying. He pulled her into his lap, whispering to her, brushing her hair from her wet face, rubbing her shoulders to keep her warm. He stared at the small field below them; they were on a road that curved through the country. How Scully had managed to stray from the freeways she usually took, he did not know. "Honey, honey, don't cry," he crooned, smoothing her hair. "Mulder...I'm so sorry," she said, trying to get up. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She fell against him, weak. Her apology became rhythmatic, as she repeat the words over and over. She began to sob, quiet tears replaced by hiccoping and shaking. Mulder held her tightly, silent, holding onto her as though by crushing her to him he could save her. The night air surrounded them, cold and still, and Mulder shivered. The cold air was sharp; every breath was pain to his lungs and nose. He pulled Scully in closer, trying to gather her into his lap, trying to keep her warm. Her sobs eventually subsided to an occasional hiccup. "Mulder. I love you. I love you so, so much," she whispered, regaining control of her thoughts and voice. "I love you back," he replied. "Let's get out of here." "Will you drive?" she asked in a tiny voice, looking up at him. They stood, Mulder bracing her, and he smiled down at her. "Yeah, I'll drive." The Apartment,  11:00 pm They had arrived at the apartment and Mulder had carried Scully into the apartment and put her to bed; she had fallen asleep during the drive. He carefully removed her clothes, wriggling her into her pajamas. Mulder removed Geena's things from the car. Her room, organized and clean, seemed to ache for inhabitance. He went to the kitchen and absently cleaned things up. He then went to the bedroom. "Mulder?" Scully whispered, her voice coming through the darkness as he stood in the door way, silhouetted by the hall light. "Yeah." "I'm hungry. Do you want me to make us something to eat?" her question was almost childish, her voice small and uncertain. "What do you want, honey? I'll make you something." "Do we have any fruit?" "Plums, bananas, grapes, and oranges." "I want a plum. Mulder?" "I'm here, Scully," he said, coming to her side. "I hurt, Mulder. My neck..." "Your neck?" he asked, not understanding. "Did you hit your head? Somehow strain your neck?" "No, Mulder." "Then...how?" "Implant," she whispered. "It aches." He felt around in the shallow darkness for the back of her neck, parting the hair with his hands. He bent around, and kissed the spot where he knew a scar remained. She sighed, whimpering slightly. "I wish Geena was here," she said. "I'll be back in a minute, Scully," Mulder said, pulling away from her. He strode into the kitchen and pulled a plum he hoped was ripe from the basket of fruit on the counter. Taking with him a paper towel, he went back to Scully. He turned on her light, turning off the hall one as he did, and presented her with the fruit. "Thank you," Scully said, smiling a little smile. She bit into the fruit, and chewed, juice dripping down her chin. Mulder left once more to retrieve a dampened paper towel, and wiped her chin with it. "You're so good to me, Mulder," she quietly, almost wistfully, remarked. She finished the plum and Mulder took the sticky pit, tossing it into her trashcan. She took the wet paper towel from him and cleaned her face, then leaned back into her pillow. "I feel like dirt, Mulder. Dirt. Worse than I ever had before in my life. This could have been prevented. I hate this." "Shh, Scully. Honey. You're not dirt. No where near." She sighed. "Come to bed, Mulder." She spoke as he changed into new boxers. "Mulder, I told her she could come into work with me today. With us today. I heard your message, Mulder, on the machine. I called Skinner; I told him you might have been kidnapped. I could have left Geena somewhere. I wasn't thinking straight. I couldn't think of anywhere she could go. I brought her with me. Then...then I received a phone call." Mulder crawled into the bed, and she curled up against him. "It was two clicks. I knew, from back in '93 and '94, that Deep Throat would contact you like that. So I took Geena with me, and we found the man, Harold J. O'Brien. He gave me an address. He said we could find you there. Mulder, I'm so sorry. I should have called for back-up or something. But I wanted to check, first. I took Geena with me. I told Skinner I was bringing her home, but we went to that building, in Baltimore, instead. Mulder, it's my fault, you see? I should have taken her to my mother's. Or home. Told her not to let anyone in. I could have done something, anything, but take her with me. But I didn't. And now she's gone." She was beyond tears. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes, breathing in Mulder. He held her to him, and she was soon asleep, too weak to worry consiously. Mulder was awake. Very awake. Every shadow made him jump, made him think 'what if they come for us?' He kissed Scully's forehead, then went to get a drink of water. He returned to the bedroom and finally, finally, a wave of exhaustion over took him. Almost as soon as he lay down, he was asleep. Mulder awoke around six, starting awake from a nightmare. Scully lay on her back beside him, face drawn tight with pain and worry--and guilt. He brushed her cheek and waited for the alarm clock, permantly set to ring at six thirty. The minutes ticked by, and Mulder finally got up after fifteen minutes of waiting. He took an ice cold shower, shivering the entire time, wanting his partner to have as much hot water as she wanted. He wrapped himself in a towel and heard the alarm ring in the bedroom. "Mulder?" Scully called, frantically. Walking quickly from bathroom to bedroom, he stood over her, smiling. "It's not a dream, is it?" she asked, not expecting an answer. He bent down to kiss her, cold water dripping onto her forehead. She got up to take her shower. ***  Assistant Director Skinner's Office  8:30 am "Agent Scully, I am incredibly sorry for your loss. As is always the case, an investigation will comense today. Your information of the possible kidnapper, Harold O'Brien, will be very useful. I do have one question, however." "Yes, sir?" "Why didn't you call me yesterday? No one knew where you were." "I'm sorry, sir. I was overwraught with grief...I...I wasn't really thinking. I'm sorry." Mulder reached out and squeezed her hand, and the two agents looked at the assistant director. "You are dismissed, agents," was Skinner's only reply. Mulder and Scully exited the office. They walked through the building down to their basement office. Curious agents poked their heads around corners and ove cubicles to get a better look at the two much talked about special agents. Whispers about their relationship and the child Scully had had with her the day before flew through the building. The office was as Scully had left it. She had tried to organize Mulder's desk a bit, but it was an impossible task. Her gaze swept around the office, and fell upon a stuffed bear. She let out a small cry, and Mulder, at his desk, looked up, concern covering his face. "Scully? What's wrong?" She couldn't speak, she couldn't move. He followed her eyes and found the bear. He reached down to pick it up, handing it to her. "Scully. Scully. We'll find her. Don't give up hope. The truth, Scully. I know this sounds cliche, but the truth is out there." "Somewhere," she mumbled, holding the bear by its ear. She turned to Mulder, tossing the bear to him. "Mulder, three files were missing, from the file cabinets. One on you and two on me. What could that mean? Why would they take those?" "They didn't take anything else?" "I didn't even get started on the other section. I got that call...." "I'll start looking." Scully looked after her partner as he stepped into the other part of their office. She sat down in his chair, staring at the mess of papers and pens and paper clips on his desk. The picture he'd taken of Scully, Maggie, and Geena was there, framed in silver. He also had a picture Maggie had taken of him, her, and Geena. She and Mulder were standing, arms wrapped around one another, staring in to each other's eyes, and Geena was between them, smiling at the camera. She wondered what the people who had taken the files had thought of that picture. "Shit," she said out loud, staring at the picture. "Mulder!" "Yeah?" "You've probably figured this all out already. They took Geena because they knew we had her, from the picture on your desk. They want to break us apart over this. They don't want us working together, or being together. Mulder." "Why take those files?" "Decoy? Background information?" "They already have enough background on us to clone us," Mulder said bitterly. "What are they doing to her, Mulder?" "Don't think about that." "I can't help it." "Try to think about something else." "I can't. I don't see how you can. You don't even seem like you care, Mulder," she accused, her words sharp and cutting. "I care, Scully. You know I care. How can you say I don't? I try...I try to be strong, Scully, for you. So you can lean against me when you're weak, when you need support. You have to admit to yourself that you aren't the strongest all the time, that you can't be the strongest all the time. That sometimes things happen, a situation occurs, and you can't control it. Then you have to let someone help. You have to let me help." "You don't need to protect me, Mulder." She turned her back on him, walked out of the office. Slammed the door behind her. Leaned against it and felt tears prickling her eyes. Angrily wiped the tears away and climbed the stairs, not looking back. Angry. Hurt. Scared.  Maggie Scully's House, 10 am "Mom..." "Dana, honey, what's wrong?" "Geena....Mom....they took Geena." "Oh my god." "Mulder was taken, and I found him...I took Geena with me...Mulder's at work. I yelled at him, Mom. Yelled and I think...I think I hurt him. Badly. Not physically." Maggie pulled her daughter in for a hug, smoothing her hair, rubbing her back. They stepped into the house, and sat on the couch. "Dana, I didn't know what to think...you didn't bring Geena yesterday or today. I was so worried something had happened..." "Something did happen, Mom. Geena's gone." "Don't give up hope, Dana." "Don't give up hope, Mom, everyone's telling me that. As if I would just accept that she's gone. Like that," she said, snapping her fingers. "I don't accept that. I haven't lost hope. I need you to understand that." "What about Fox?" "What about him?" "Does he know that you haven't lost hope?" "No...I don't know. No." "You need to tell him." "I don't want to talk to him." "Dana, you need to know that he only wants to help you." "Damnit, Mom. I don't want him to protect me. I don't need to be protected." "Everyone needs protection once in a while, Dana." "No." "Fox--he protects you from so many things. You have to talk to him." "Fine. Fine, Mom." Scully got up, walking out the door. She almost ran to her car, and drove back to work. She tried to calm herself before walking back to the basement. 'Sure, Mom is right. I need to talk to him. I love him. We'll find her. Together. But not apart,' a little voice spoke in her head. 'You don't need him,' came another voice. 'All he wants to do is control you. Make you into what he wants you to be. He doesn't care.' She felt as though she was on a cartoon, with a white angel and a red devil. She went the angel's way. "Mulder," she said, stepping into the office. "I'm sorry, Scully," he said. He was sitting at his desk, staring at the pictures. "No, Mulder. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I...everyone needs protection sometime, Mulder," she echoed her mother's words. "Skinner called." Her breath caught in her throat. "What did he say?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even. "They know where she is." "They do? Why aren't we there? Why--where? How? When?" Scully couldn't help smiling, but then she saw Mulder's expression. "Mulder? What's wrong?" she asked, walking up beside him, placing her hand n his cheek, pulling his head gently up. "They've asked for something, Scully." "For what?" "They want your implant." "My implant," she repeated, hand instantly rubbing the back of her neck. She looked into his eyes. "I told Skinner I needed to talk to you first." "I...yes. For Geena. She's young. She deserves a life." "There may be other ways." "How?" "Skinner arranged a meeting at eleven." "Let's go." They stepped out of the office, Mulder carefully locking it behind him. "Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't mea to get so angry. I just...I just...I'm sorry," she finished lamely, and he turned to smile at her. "I love you," he said quietly, kissing her on the cheek. They went to Skinner's office. The other ways, other choices to make, wouldn't work. They could ambush the place, people would die, Geena could be killed. They could try to steal her out. Same results. Negotiation would only bring them back to the implant. Scully made the decision; it was a choice only she *could* make. They took the vile that held the chip, a little, round piece of metal that could kill and save people, to Geena's captors. They were meeting at the doorway of a huge warehouse in the ourskirts of Baltimore. Harold was there; he was holding a frightened Geena by the hand. Behind Harold, in the darkness, a cigarette glowed reddish orange. Deep voices came from within the place, Mulder glared into the darkness, helpless at the face of everyone he hated most. It made him hate them even more. "Momma! Daddy!!" screamed Geena, as soon as she saw them "The chip, Dana," Harold said. Mulder cringed at the use of her name, and she handed him the glass vile. He released Geena from his hand, and she ran to her parents. "Geena, Geena, baby, oh my god, I love you so much." "Are you okay, Geena? Do you feel alright? We missed you so much," Mulder whispered to his daughter, smoothing her hair as Scully embraced her. The FBI agents called in to help stood around, looking uncomfortable. Skinner told them to go back to the FBI building, then approached Mulder, Scully, and Geena. "Agents?" he asked softly. They looked up at him, eyes full of joy and fear. "We will pursue this man, this Harold," he said quietly. "Meanwhile, I'd like you to remain home with your daughter for the remainder of the day." "Thank you, sir." He nodded, then walked off. Scully stood, and Mulder followed; they each held one of Geena's hands. "Let's go home," Geena said. "I'm hungry. I want some macaroni n cheese." "Okay, honey. Let's go." Mulder lay beside Scully in their bed. Geena was asleep in the next room, after having 'macaroni n cheese'. The two agents lay awake, listening for any sounds that would mean things weren't right in the room across the hall. No such sounds came, and Scully sighed, turning onto her side to look at Mulder. He still lay on his back, staring at something she couldn't see. "Mulder?" she whispered, reached out to touch his cheek. "What am I going to do without you, Scully?" He looked at her with tear filled eyes. "We--we don't yet know what the cause of removing the implant may be, Mulder," she said stubbornly. "You think it was just coincidence, what happened before?" "I don't know." "How much time do we have, Scully? How much time together?" "I don't know." He pulled her body close to his, hugged her, kissed her on the forehead, and released her. 'Rough,' was all she could think. 'Rough.' "Go to sleep," he whispered. He turned his back on her, and she closed her eyes. She hurt. Her neck hurt, her head hurt, and her heart hurt. He'd turned his back. Away. Turned away from her. She carefully flipped onto her stomach and tried to sleep. The clock read 1:34; she sighed and closed her eyes tightly, determined to sleep. She finally did. Scully woke up coughing. Mulder wasn't in bed; the spot he'd lain was still warm. She got up slowly, not able to move quickly because of the pounding in her head. There was a small spot of blood on the pillow. She gasped, wiping the blood onto her finger. She walked to the bathroom, surprised not to find Mulder there. The mirror showed her that the blood was dripping slowly from her nose, leaving a small trickle to her lip. She wiped it off and waited patiently for it to stop. "Mulder?" she called softly, stepping into the kitchen. 'Where the hell did he go?' she thought. The kitchen and living room were empty. She stepped into Geena's room and found Mulder at the side of the child's bed, head laying next to her hand. "Mulder," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He was in a drousy half-sleep from which she awakened him, and he moaned softly. "Scully. Why are you awake?" "Why are you, Mulder?" "I wanted to check on Geena," he said, looking up at her. "What's wrong?" he asked, her face betraying her. "I had a nosebleed." His sharp intake of breath was so loud Geena stirred. He stood, taking Scully's hand, and they went into the living room. "Maybe we can get another chip," he said, sitting down next to her on the couch. "No, Mulder." "You're just going to let yourself die? Scully, no. I-I can't let you do that." "I'm not going to just myself die." "But you're not going to search for a cure." "What did that get me, Mulder? A chip in my neck? I almost died because of that. At the dam, Mulder. I have no recollection of what happened to me there, yet I know it did happen, that I was there. Now...now I know, Mulder. It's not a question of if. It's a question of when. And doctors can diagnose my cancer and tell me how long. No doctor can diagnose that chip and tell me how long until I'm going to be taken somewhere." "I don't know how I'm going to live without you." "You're going to have to. For Geena. Save the world, Mulder." "I love you." "I know. I love you, too. I need you to respect this decision, Mulder. I don't want you to risk your life every day looking for something that may or may not save me. If one of us has to go, let it be me." Mulder was silent, turning to her and playing with her hair. He kissed her gently, then led her back to bed. Mulder and Scully's Office,  11:20am "Mulder?" Scully said, walking into the office. "How did it go?" "It's back." Mulder had half risen from his seat, but then sat abruptly down. Scully went over to him, running her fingers through his hair. "What did you expect, Mulder? Don't be sad for me. Don't. Just...just live with me." "How can I if you're going to die?" "I'm not dead today, Mulder. My doctor said six months." "Six months. Six. Only six more months with you. Scully, I can't do this. How can you give up like that?" "Mulder. I am *not* giving up. I don't want you to feel that. Don't. Please, Mulder." "I can't, Scully. I can't." He put his head between his hands, and she knelt beside him. "Mulder. Mulder, look at me." Tired eyes flicked in her direction. Then stayed. "I love you. I will always love you. I'm not going to say good bye today. Not until I'm about to go. I still have things I want to do. Things to accomplish." "In six months." Disbelieving; bitter. "I can try. We can try. You will move on, Mulder. You have your whole life ahead of you. You have to get Geena the proper education and find the truth. Don't give up because of me." "You're giving up but I can't." "Mulder. I *am* *not* giving up." "Then what are you doing?" "Giving Geena a chance for a good life." Mulder was silent. "What do you want me to say, Mulder?" "That you're going to be okay. That you're not going to die. That you're going to fight." "I'm sorry, Mulder," she said, standing and walking into the other section of the office. When she knew she was hidden by a slight partition, she buried her face in her hands, and cried as silently as possible. Weak with hurt and pain, she fell to her knees, silently sobbing. Mulder's hands were soon on her back, pulling her up and into his arms. She lay her head on his shoulder, tears running down her cheeks. "I want to be happy, Mulder," she whispered, stepping out of his embrace and wiping the tears from her eyes. "I want you to be happy. I just don't understand why you can't look for a cure." "Because they would take Geena again." "What would make you happy?" "You and Geena. Happy, together." "Scully, that's not what I meant." "What did you mean then?" "Right now. What could I do right now that would make you happy?" She was silent, eyes roaming around the office, flicking on Mulder now and then. She finally rested them on Mulder, and the corner of her mouth flitted. "Let me live; be normal. Don't treat me like you would a sick person, an incapacitated person. Treat me like...like I'm normal." Mulder said nothing, just nodded, reaching out to her, running his hand through her hair and pulling her close to him. He released her, and went to his desk. The day resumed. The Apartment, 9:45pm, Saturday night Mulder and Scully sat on the couch watching a movie, Dante's Peak, while Geena slept in the other room. A call from Geena interupted their peaceful watching. "Momma!" cried the child. Scully squeezed Mulder's hand and left to tend to her daughter. "Geena? What's wrong?" Scully asked, eyes widening when she saw the little girl sweating in her bed. The room, to Scully, was slightly cold. Geena's blankets were on the floor. "Momma...I hurt," said Geena, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Can you tell me where you hurt, Geena?" Scully asked frantically, smoothing the child's hair out of her face. "My head...my heart...it hurts to take a breath." "Mulder!" Scully called, and Mulder ran into the room. "Go get the car ready, Mulder. We have to take her to the hospital. Now, Mulder!! Please." Mulder stood, staring, for a second, then dashed out to the car. Scully wrapped Geena in her quilt, and hurried out to Mulder with her. She sat, cradling the child, in the back of the car. Mulder sped off to the hospital. "What's wrong with her, Scully?" Mulder asked, glancing in the rear view mirror, driving as well and as fast as possible. Geena had passed out. Scully held the child carefully against her chest. "She's unconcious, Mulder. She was sweating...she said it hurt to breath. She has a fever, too. She's almost literally radiating heat." They reached the emergency room, and ran in with their daughter. Scully looked around the brightly lit hallway, with the blue tiled floor, searching for a face to talk to. Her child moved in her arms, slightly, but remained unconsious. "Hello, my name is Dana Scully. This is my part...my husband, Fox Mulder. Our child, Geena Scully, said it was hard for her to breath. While we were driving here she lost consiousness. She has a weak pulse, and she's breathing," Scully said to the nearest doctor. "Ms. Scully, please give me the child. We're going to bring her into the emergency room right now. Wait right here." "No." "Excuse me?" "Ma'am, we're FBI agents. This little girl has some, shall we say, bad guys, after her. I need to be near her, watching her, at all times." "And your husband?" "With me." "Follow me." Mulder and Scully walked quickly with the doctor to the emergency room in which Geena lay. Doctors were around her, working furiously. "Scully? I didn't think she was that bad," Mulder whispered. "She's stopped breathing!" someone shouted, and Scully reached out for Mulder's hand. She needed his comfort and his restraint; his touch was all that was stopping her from jumping in to help with her daughter. "I have her. She's awake," one of the doctors said, and the tension in the room lessened. "Momma?" the little girl asked, glancing at all the doctors. "Geena, baby, we're here," Scully said, stepping next to the bed. Two nurses came to move the girl to another room. She lay on the gurney, searching again for her mother and father. "Momma, I hurt," Geena repeated, and closed her eyes. "Geena?" "Ma'am, she's unconsious again. I'm sorry. She'll be moved into a high-care unit. It's one step below the ICU. Room number 346." "Thank you," Scully said. She and Mulder followed the nurses up to the room, and the agents sat in the cold, hard plastic chairs. Mulder inched his seat closer to Scully's and reached out for her hand. She took it and squeezed, glancing up at him. "They're running the blood tests right now," he said, and she nodded. She looked carefully at Geena and then back to Mulder. "We should get a guard at the door," she suggested. "I'll make the call." Mulder left the room to use his cellphone, wanting to give Scully some time with her child. He called Frohike and requested that they find someone to watch over Geena. He didn't want to accidentally find someone who's ultimate mission was to eliminate his child. He reentered the room after Frohike had promised a watchman to arrive within the half-hour. "Frohike's sending someone to watch the door," Mulder whispered in Scully's ear, hand on her back. He pulled away and sat down, and she turned to look at him. "Mulder, she's comatose." "She's not just sick?" "No, Mulder. Did you really think that?" "I really hoped that." "I know." Geena lay in her bed, hair damp from sweat, eyes closed, mouth in a slight frown. Scully reached out and took her daughters small hand in her own. A knock came at the door, and Mulder stood to open it. A man walked through, pushing Mulder down. Three men followed him, one stopping at Mulder to kick and punch him. Scully watched the scene in horror, and barely felt the first blow to her own head. Mulder got up and tried to fight back, but they were outnumbered. As soon as Scully fell to the floor, unconsious, one of the men began to punch Geena. Mulder stopped his struggle and stared, mouth hanging open. Scully's words from the year before came back to him. 'Who are these men that would create a life just for it to die?' One of the men punched his head and he fell to the floor, unconsious. Mulder awoke in a hospital bed. His body ached and he looked around to see where he was. He sat, wincing as his head pounded. "Where's Scully?" he asked the nurse coming through the door. "Where's Geena?" "Dana is down the hall, Fox. Geena is..." "Where is she?" Mulder asked, anger making his voice louder than necessary. "She was beaten very badly, Fox. She suffered immense injuries to her head and chest. I'm sorry, Fox. She didn't pull through." Her words seemed to be coming from far, far away. Geena was...dead? The phrase didn't redgister. He turned away from the nurse as though it were her fault his daughter had died. "Where's Scully? I want to see her." "Perhaps when you can stand, Fox." "Please call me Mulder." "Mulder. You ought to wait until you're stable." "I'm stable enough to see my wife," Mulder spat, standing up. He was attached to an IV, and looked helplessly at the nurse. She quickly took out the needle, and walked with him to the room in which Scully lay. "Scully..." Mulder trailed off, seeing her laying unconsious. "How...is this from being...beaten?" Mulder asked, almost choking on the last word. "Partly," the nurse hedged, and Mulder looked up at her questioningly. "Partly?" he asked, imploring her to continue. "Are you aware that your wife has cancer, sir?" "Yes, I am aware of that. She's in a coma?" "I'm sorry." Mulder turned back to Scully, who lay hooked up to machines. She was breathing on her own, but IV's ran into both arms. Other tubes monitered her brainwaves and heart beat. He sat next to her, holding her hand, staring at her face. The seconds on the clock on the all ticked by, and the machines all beeped out rhymatically. Mulder was lulled into an almost sleep state. "Fox Mulder?" a male voice asked, putting his hand on Mulder's shoulder. Mulder started, and spun around, standing. He fell back into the chair as the movement proved too quick, and looked up at the man. "Yes?" "I have the results of the tests that were run on Geena. Would you like me to go over them with you?" "Yes." "Okay. Her blood showed signs of cancer, which was dormant. She was suffering from a brain tumor, but was in remission, from what I can tell from the X-rays and blood work. She had pneumonia, along with a form of menegitis. That is why she was so sick. Mr. Mulder, a small metallic chip was found in the base of your daughter's neck. We removed it." The doctor handed Mulder the vile with the chip. "Your daughter is in the morgue, below the hospital. There is a hospital employee guarding the place. I'm terribly sorry for your loss, Mr. Mulder." Mulder was silent, nodding slowly. He looked at the chip in his hand, and back to Scully. "Can you put this in the back of Scully's neck?" "I could, but I don't see what that will accomplish." "Will you? Right now?" "Yes, I can. I'll get right to it. You're going to have to wait in your own room, though," the doctor said uncertainly. Mulder squeezed Scully's lifeless hand and walked out of the room. He headed to his own, and sat on the bed. He then stood, looking for his clothes. He found them in the closet, and quickly changed. He sat back on the bed, and flipped on the television. As he flipped through the channels, passing by the boring info-mercials, he felt tears welling in his eyes. Geena had had the same cancer that Scully had been stuck with, that Scully was dying from. Dying. Mulder put his head in his hands and felt the hot tears wet his fingers. He looked up at the television; the news channel was on. A building in Portland, Oregon, had been blown up, killing fifty-seven people and injuring hundreds. It was equivilant to the Oklahoma City bombing. Mulder turned the television off and shuddered. 'What the hell is this world coming to?' he thought. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to think of anything but the present.  "A Study of Light and Dark" Dana Scully's Apartment Washington D.C.  June 29, 1998  Dana Scully tossed around on the bed once again. The faint rustle of satin against her warm bedsheet sounded quite loud to her in the relative stillness of the night. <Night, she mused. she admitted. She turned her head towards the glowing display of her bedside alarm clock. 2:44am. <Great, Scully berated herself. she wondered. Luckily, Scully wasn't expected to show up for work. Skinner had given both Mulder and herself two weeks off after their last case - if you could call their latest escapade a case. Thankfully the outcome of all their recent troubles had been the reopening of the X-Files. Now Scully would have some time to recuperate from the mental and physical stress of the past week before starting work again. Or so she thought. After several insomnia and nightmare-haunted nights, Scully feared she would never recover. Scully blew a frustrated breath out and shut her eyes tightly in a feeble attempt to will herself into some semblance of rest. The time off wasn't completely out of the goodness of Skinner's heart. The Bureau was still trying to decide where they were going to stick the both of them since their office had been destroyed in a fire, Scully reminded herself. She wondered briefly, as she tossed restlessly in the bed, whether there really was an X-Files division anymore since all their records had been burned in the fire. But as long as she and Mulder still drew breath, she knew that they would push forward. The Truth, ever elusive, was still lurking out there, awaiting their discovery. If anything, Scully figured, the time off would give her a chance to think about her other remaining problem...or happy development, depending how one looked at it. In any case, this...situation helped to push her into the sleepless predicament she was in now. Scully knew she desperately needed rest, both to heal the injuries she sustained while being abducted (again), and to give her mind some time to sort out the confusion and apprehension she was experiencing over...him - Special Agent Fox Mulder. Mulder - her partner and best friend. And somehow, Scully realized, he was becoming something more to her. But what? What was Mulder becoming to her? A lover? No, she decided - well, not yet, anyway. And if that did happen, she wondered, what would that lead to? Marriage? A nice two-story, two-and-a-half bath with a white picket fence in a quiet suburb somewhere? Would Mulder give her the serene, contented domestic life she secretly wished for sometimes in the dark hours of night - like now? The thought of Mulder taking out the trash or drying dishes made Scully roll her eyes. <No, she concluded. she told herself. Dana Scully snorted derisively at her childish musings, although the offhand manner in which she tossed aside the idea of a relationship with Mulder shocked her slightly. But she understood it was just a part of a defense mechanism for her. To treat it lightly and as unthreateningly as possible, Scully knew she was just attempting to shield herself from the frightening prospect of intimacy with the one person she was closest to in the world. she chided herself. But, perhaps her mistake wasn't all for naught. Scully also remembered the truly panic-stricken face she saw barreling around her partner's apartment doorway. She remembered the look on Mulder's face turn from desperate pleading to one of tenderness, and then finally, to one of...love? Scully fervently hoped so. Mulder's words to her that night were further evidence of his deeply-buried feelings for Scully. He told her, "I don't know if I want to do this alone...I don't even know if I can." The memory of his declaration brought a smile to Scully's lips. she half-jokingly told herself. Then, she allowed herself to remember what happened thereafter, both in her mind...and body, just as she had numerous times after returning from Antarctica. She felt Mulder's hands gently caressing her face. She remembered the tender kiss she placed on his forehead. She caught a trace of his scent then - a mixture of anxious fear co-mingled with the faint, spicy tang of his cologne. Scully felt a flash of arousal at that point, and it was all she could do not to throw herself at Mulder. Instead, she willed herself to calm down - but then she looked up and saw the regret-filled sadness in his eyes. It nearly broke her heart - until she saw...*it*. Scully saw something else hovering behind the sorrow, and she felt her pulse quicken at the very thought of what it could mean. At first Scully dismissed it. She denied the possibility. She stared at him for several moments before she realized that it was true - there *was* something else. She recognized it as a feeling that she saw in herself, but never dared express to him. she wondered at the time. The moment Mulder inched closer to her, she knew that she was right. A nearly uncontrollable joy swept over her, totally inappropriate for the dire circumstances surrounding them. But as Mulder brought his face to hers, the only thing Scully was able to focus on was his beautiful glittering hazel eyes and his soft, full lips. Lying in her bed, Scully gave in completely to the flashback. She fought the urge to run her hands over her body, fought the incredible desire to touch herself in places that she wished he would touch. She remembered Mulder's face coming nearer and nearer, toward the inevitable. Dana Scully had waited nearly five years for this moment, never once thinking it was ever possible in the real world they both existed in. <Yes, Mulder, she recalled saying in her mind, just as she was breathlessly uttering the words now, in the darkness of night - smooth satin brushing quietly against soft linen. And just as the memory of the momentous event was about to come to fruition... Scully heard a loud knocking at her front door. "Well, it beats a mutant bee sting," she muttered resignedly. Coming quickly to her senses and sitting upright, she stole a glance at the clock. 2:56am. she thought with an ironic smile. Mulder was nothing if not predictable <well, usually anyway, she amended. Scully considered throwing on a robe, but it being a particularly muggy D.C. night, and knowing that it was probably Mulder, she decided against it. She got up from the bed and headed for the door. Thump-Thump-Thump! The irritating pounding beckoned to her. She refrained from answering, instead she tiptoed up to the peephole to confirm her suspicions. A severely distorted, stubble-covered, bleary-eyed face stared back at her. She let out a tiny laugh. Mulder's ample nose always appeared larger-than-life when magnified in her peephole. "Scully! Come on, let me in...its me," Mulder said behind the door. she thought. Who else would be pounding on her door at three in the morning? She reached for the deadbolt and chain and deftly released them. With a flourish and a practiced look of exasperation on her face, Scully swung the door open for her partner. "Come on in Mulder, before the neighbors call the police," she said to him quietly. With a slur, he replied "But I am the police." Mulder tried to accompany the comeback with a smirk of his own, but instead opted to teeter precariously in Scully's doorway. She grabbed his arm before his swaying could intensify. "Well Mulder, Looks like you've been hitting your favorite pub again, haven't you?" she teased him. She got an acknowledging grunt in response. She steered him to her living room, where her black leather and denim-clad partner unceremoniously plopped himself onto her sofa and assumed a semi-sitting position - which was more like a sprawl, Scully thought with a grin. Mulder stared off into space as he listed to the left, like a slowly sinking ship. He gingerly turned his throbbing head toward Scully, who was standing over him with that slightly exasperated look she was so good at. His glazed eyes took in the tiny satin-garbed, irresistibly alluring woman in front of him, and he smiled goofily for her. "Hiya, pardner," he mumbled. "Hi, yourself," she responded sternly. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing Mulder?" she added. She resisted the urge to place her hands on her hips, as her mother had done so many times before when Scully was a youngster. She remembered herself as a fiery, headstrong child who always seemed to be in need of a good lecture. she mused. In response to her query, Mulder tilted his head like a confused puppy and uttered a decidedly thick "huh?" "The last time you came here, Mulder, you were drinking too. The last thing I need right now is an alcoholic partner," she scolded him. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Mulder?" she asked. Visibly taken aback by the unexpected reprimand, Mulder straightened up quickly and began to stammer. "I, I...I'm sorry, Scully." He looked down at himself, finally realizing how he must have appeared to the clean and fresh-smelling beauty standing over him. he said to himself. Rubbing his hand across his stubbled face, he rose to leave. "God, I'm really sorry Scully. I shouldn't have come," he apologized. He moved past her and headed unsteadily for the door. He was stopped by a hand on his arm. "Not so fast," she said tenderly as she turned Mulder to face her. His description of Scully flashed through Mulder's brain and penetrated his alcohol-induced haze. He attempted to sober himself up as he looked into Scully's cobalt-blue eyes. He focused on the glint reflecting off of those deep, oceanlike pools. "Why did you come here, Mulder?" she asked softly. She pleaded with him silently Scully felt the heat rising in her cheeks, and was instantly embarrassed over her obvious weakness when it came to Mulder. She hated showing weakness - to anyone. And she hated showing her weaknesses and vulnerabilities to Mulder most of all. She wanted to be strong in front of him. She wanted to live up to his standards - both as a partner...and as a woman. And she couldn't do that if she acted like some goofball lovestruck puppy in his presence, she knew. Scully cursed herself under her breath and looked away from her rumpled, yet still endearingly gorgeous partner, not wanting him to sense her awkwardness. Mulder sensed Scully's discomfort and felt a crushing guilt. The last thing he wanted by coming to see her was to make her uneasy. He intended quite the opposite in fact...  Casey's Bar June 28, 1998 10:13pm Earlier in the night, Mulder was again at Casey's Bar, his usual hangout when he wanted to get sloshed. Sitting there, contemplating the happenings of the past few days, he realized he had reason to both celebrate and drown his troubles in booze. The X-Files were open again. That in itself was cause for merriment of the highest order. He could continue the search for the truth he so desperately sought. Now, it was for more than just uncovering the reasons for Samantha's abduction. It was a quest to save the entire human race. he thought. He downed another finger of Jack Daniels and grimaced at the irony of the situation. <Well, take comfort, Mulder, he assured himself. <Thankfully, the world's safety also depends on Scully. Scully. His gorgeous, sexy, strong, intelligent and endearing (in her own obstinate way) partner. He wouldn't have to leave her now - now that the X-Files were reality again. That was another cause for celebration, he told himself. Mulder drained half of his next shot of J.D. He smacked his lips loudly and winked at the bartender. She was the same one who tossed him out that fateful night - the night it all began - starting with a visit by a mysterious man named Kurtzweil. He looked down at the clear golden liquid swirling in the glass he held. He was mesmerized. In his hypnotized state, Mulder's thoughts drifted back to his partner. he wondered. He had virtually declared his love for her in his apartment hallway the night she told him she was quitting the FBI. Mulder knew he was going to lose the love of his life...unless he let Scully know how he really felt about her. Mulder was never certain about the depth of Scully's feelings toward him, but he'd be damned if he'd let her go without telling her what she meant to him. He was telling her the truth when he said he wasn't sure he could go on without her. Mulder realized that after five years of working closely with Scully, he had essentially become one with her. She completed him. She was his validation to the entire world that he was a human being, and not just some UFO nut with a gun. If an intelligent and attractive woman like Dana Scully could care for him, then he couldn't be a totally lost cause. She did indeed make him "a whole man." And now, she would still be there for him. She refused Mulder's self-sacrificing plea for her to get out of the X-Files while she still could. To Mulder, her safety was more important than having her with him. But, in the end, she was as determined as he was not to let them win. And so, they were still a team. But at what cost to her? Mulder felt the knife-twist of guilt in his gut whenever he thought about how many times Scully had suffered because of him. Why did they always take her? She said that they abducted her and gave her cancer to "make him believe." He had already believed. He believed after the night he saw his sister floating out of their living room window, all those years ago. Why did they have to make her suffer for his actions? Someday, they would go too far. Mulder hoped that day would never come. But as for her last ordeal, once again, some kind of divine intervention had seen to it that Scully was returned relatively safe and whole. Although Mulder was not a religious man, he refused to believe that he was was solely responsible for her safety. He dared not think that. For if he was, there would be a time in the future when he would fail her, as he failed everyone else he had ever loved. Mulder feared the day would come when he'd be too late to save her. Shaking his head to clear the roiling thoughts in his head, Mulder tried to concentrate on his drink. Mulder tried to tell himself that things were falling into place, that life was returning to normal. But were they? Mulder remembered the hallway embrace once again. <Oh, Scully, he despaired in his alcohol-hazed mind. Mulder asked himself. He knocked back the last of his drink. Now was the time for the flip side of celebration. Mulder wanted nothing more than to drown away the uncertainty and apprehension. His indecision towards pursuing Scully was threatening to paralyze him mentally. Mulder didn't want to think anymore. He realized, with that last shot - as his field of vision began to blur and swim nauseatingly - he might have succeeded. Rising unsteadily from his seat, Mulder pulled out some crumpled money from his billfold and pushed it slowly to the bartender. "So," she commented. "Finally had enough again." She picked up the money and counted it. Looking up, she noticed Mulder staring glassy-eyed at the door. She leaned over and said, "Hey, Spooky. You gonna be okay? Want some help with a cab?" Mulder turned towards her and flashed her his trademark smirk, causing the bartender's heart to skip a beat and bring a flush to her cheeks. "Nah," he said. His voice was as thick and slow as molasses. "I'm just trying to decide what to do. I just want to do the right thing, you know?" She grinned at Mulder. He didn't seem as paranoid and delusional as the first time she served him. She briefly considered asking him to come home with her, but she vowed never to pick up anyone at work - especially someone who drank as much as this guy. He had some problems, that much she was sure of. "I never know what goes through the minds of the patrons here," she told him finally. "But it would probably be a good idea for you to go home and get some sleep. Big, life-changing decisions are always better made when sober, don't you think, Spooky?" This elicited a short laugh from Mulder. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But I've never been one for behaving conventionally." With a glimmer in his eyes, he said to her "You know, I really should get your name - now that you know me so well." The bartender's cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. She desperately hoped that "Spooky" was too drunk to notice. "Glenda," she said softly. "Glenda Hadley." She thrust her hand out for Mulder to shake. He took it with the grin still plastered to his face and shook it gently. "Call me Mulder," he replied. "You got a first name, Mulder?" she asked. "Aside from 'Spooky,' of course." "Yeah, but I like it better when you call me Spooky." Glenda giggled slightly at that. <Oh, boy. What a little schoolgirl you're turning into, she berated herself. He released her hand and turned toward the doorway. "Okay, Glenda. I've gotta get going," he said to her. "I think I know what I have to do now." She stared at him for a few seconds and then replied with another heartfelt smile, "Go get her, Spooky." She sympathetically tipped her head towards the front door. "What?" said Mulder, with a shocked look on his face. He wondered if he had let something slip during his drinking spree. "When people come in here to drink themselves into a stupor, it's usually one of three things: Work, money or love," she told him. "You haven't mentioned any government conspiracies tonight, so I'm assuming it's not about work. You don't really strike me as the type to have money problems," - she flashed the bills that he had just handed her. "And I'm being presumptuous in thinking this isn't about a man, so that leaves a woman," she finished. "And, mister," she added. "You *do* look the type who could have girl trouble." He surprised her with a deep, mirthful laugh. He tilted his head back as the laughter subsided. "You have no idea, Glenda," he said to the ceiling. Looking back at her, Mulder said "If you ever get tired of this place, you ought to try out for the FBI. You'd make a hell of an investigator." "Ha!" was her quick response. "And work with the likes of you? That'll be the day!" "Goodnight, Glenda," Mulder said with a grin as he headed for the exit. "See you around, Spooky," she answered softly. Glenda began to put Mulder's shot glasses away and then looked at the doorway the Special Agent had just passed through. She smiled again and shook her head in amusement. thought Mulder. Finally, a cab pulled up to him and Mulder got in. "Where to, pal?" said the burly driver. The heavily bearded man was chewing impatiently on an unlit cigar and glanced at Mulder in his rearview mirror. Without hesitation, Mulder answered. "Take me to Georgetown." Dana Scully's Apartment  3:10am And now, here he was, drunk and uncertain of exactly why he had shown up at her door again. His diminutive partner was standing just inches away from him, trying her best to maintain her composure. All Mulder wanted to do was take Scully into his arms and kiss her. He wanted to profess his undying love for her. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted so many things. But like so many times over the past five years, fear held him back. He worried that once they crossed the threshold into an intimate relationship, there would be no going back. If things didn't work out (and with both their track records in the romance department, that was a distinct possibility), would their strong bond of friendship and trust survive? The fear that he would lose his best friend at the same time he gained a lover kept him rooted in place, staring helplessly at an equally frustrated Scully. They both spoke simultaneously. "Scully..." "Mulder..." They smiled awkwardly at the uncomfortable faux pas. Then Mulder gestured that Scully should go first. "Mulder, we really need to talk," she said. "You can't keep drinking so heavily and show up at my doorstep at ungodly hours of the night. It's not healthy for you." She reached up tentatively with her slender fingers to push a lock of hair away from his forehead. She smiled for him slightly. It was that sweet, indulgent motherly look that Mulder loved so much. It made him feel safe and incredibly cared for. It was the look that convinced him that things could be right in the world. It was a look that sometimes made him forget the pain. And if he tried hard, Mulder could convince himself that her look revealed just how much Scully really loved him. But he never let himself indulge in that belief. It hurt too much to think about what it would mean if it were really true. "You're beat. Why don't you grab a shower. We can talk for awhile, and after that, you can stay with me and get some sleep," she told him calmly. "Oooh, Scully," he teased. "What would your mother say if she knew you were offering to share your bed with a strange man?" "On the sofa, Mulder," she intoned with mock-seriousness. "And my mother knows you. You would never take advantage of an innocent and unassuming woman." "Oh, but it will be such a decadent pleasure to corrupt that innocent and unassuming woman - as long as we're talking about you, Scully," Mulder quipped. Scully rolled her eyes at Mulder and walked over to her hallway closet to fetch a bath towel for her incorrigible partner. She couldn't help but smile as she opened the closet door and reached for a towel. This verbal dance they were performing had been played out numerous times before during their relatively short partnership. She realized that it was an oblique way of expressing their interest in one another without coming right out and saying it. Mulder was a bit more overt in his dialogue, but Scully admitted she too enjoyed the teasing innuendoes and playing hard-to-get as much as he did. But after what happened in Mulder's hallway, Scully wondered, how much further could the playful banter go before they had to, as they say, "put up or shut up?" Scully's smile transformed into a slight frown - a look she had adopted more and more often over the past few months. she admonished herself. Scully rubbed at her forehead and consciously smoothed out her furrowed brow. Her feeling of vulnerability - enhanced by the trauma of her recent abduction - was intense and uncomfortable. But by the time she rounded the corner, her grin had returned - even if it was slightly forced. "Here," she said as she handed Mulder the fluffy white towel. Mulder immediately saw the change in Scully's eyes. They seemed duller somehow. The joyful gleam of just a few minutes ago had disappeared. Her smile was still there, but Mulder guessed that it was only there for his benefit. He grasped her wrist lightly before she could lower it. "Scully, what's wrong?" he asked as gently as he could. Embarrassed at being so transparent, Scully turned her head away from him and looked down at the floor. "It's nothing, Mulder," she lied. "I'm sorry, I'm fine." Still, her eyes were riveted to the floor. She didn't want him to see her face. She realized that her expressive eyes gave her away every time. This wasn't what Mulder wanted. He could feel the tension radiating from her. He wondered if this was a portent of things to come. If Scully couldn't relax around him - couldn't be completely open - what would become of their friendship, and in turn, their partnership? He had to do something. He had to make it right somehow. He reached out and cupped her flawless, angular chin. He raised her face to his until she was forced to look into his eyes. Mulder saw the fear there that was a reflection of his own. But at the same time, he detected a faint spark of...what? Desire? Love? Hope? He wasn't sure. There was an urgent pleading in her gaze. It was as if she desperately wanted Mulder to make the next move. Should he? Mulder tried to think it through, but only received a dull throb pounding in his head for all his troubles. he thought to himself. So, Mulder screwed up his courage and spoke. "I meant everything I said, Scully," he said to her, referring to the night in the hallway. "And although it may be hard for the both of us, I hope...no, I'm very certain that we can work it all out." Mulder finished with a shuddering sigh. He never thought he could feel so frightened and excited in his entire life. It was just as bad as the hallway, although he wasn't as confused or as panicked as he was then. Despite this, the hand that held Scully's face began to tremble and so Mulder quickly dropped it to his side to cover his nervousness. "I love you, Scully." <Whoa. Did I just say that? Mulder heard the words, but didn't remember making the conscious effort to speak. He felt himself begin to sway again. He was very close to passing out. He was sure of it. Scully was flabbergasted. After hearing Mulder's declaration, she was unable to articulate a coherent response. She loved him as well, of that she was as sure of as she was certain that the earth revolved around the sun. But she was surprised that Mulder had said anything so soon after that night. She had been worried that he was going to deny it ever happened. She considered doing that herself. But that wouldn't be fair - to either of them. <Wait, a thought invaded her mind. <Mulder's drunk. Does he really mean it, or is that just the booze talking? she asked silently. She had to be sure. Gently sliding her hands along his collarbones to rest upon his shoulders, she questioned him in a soothing voice, "Mulder, you've been drinking. Are you willing to take responsibility for what you say while under the influence?" her electric blue eyes bored into Mulder, compelling him to answer. Mulder realized that Scully had given him an opportunity to back out, to blame his snap decision on inebriation. decided Mulder, Well, Mulder figured, who could blame her, really? thought Mulder with a wince. <No, he reprimanded himself. <She's perfectly within her rights to ask me that. Letting out a frustrated breath (he hoped didn't stink of J.D. too much), Mulder tried to put his lovely partner at ease. "I can handle the liquor, Scully," he answered clearly. "If anything, it's given me the courage to say what I've been feeling for a long time." Curious, Scully asked "How long?" Looking up from her and feigning deep thought, he said finally, "Actually, the first time you walked into our office." Scully thought. She had also recognized the electricity between them on that fateful day. She still remembered their first handshake. It was like touching a live wire. Scully had to stop herself from reacting to the sensation, lest Mulder think she was insane. She remembered thinking he was gorgeous, and though she would never admit it to anyone, she had entertained thoughts of seducing him right there on his desk. Wearing the pair of glasses he seemed to have abandoned as of late, Mulder was practically irresistible. That he immediately adopted an adolescent arrogance in talking to her only served to intensify her arousal and interest in Fox Mulder. As her cheeks reddened with the flashback, a slow grin began to spread across Scully's features. She was incredibly flattered that the attraction between the two of them was mutual, even then. "Well, to be completely honest," he continued, "I was sure of my feelings for you right after you dropped your robe for me in that Bellefleur hotel room." "Mulder!" Scully shrieked. Her eyes were wide, but the glint of amusement there was unmistakable to Mulder. Encouraged by her acceptance of his admission, he decided to elaborate. "You didn't know it at the time, Scully, but it took all my self-control not to turn you around, kiss you right on the lips and take you to bed." Mulder took a deep breath. He felt like he just had the wind knocked out of himself. Scully stood staring at Mulder, mouth gaping. It opened and shut silently, as if she were a fish out of water. Mulder guessed he had taken the words out of her mouth, so to speak. It was very endearing to him. In her shocked state, Mulder took the initiative and wrapped his long arms around her shoulders and drew Scully into a tender embrace. Scully slid her arms beneath his jacket and grasped his torso tightly. Scully mused. Mulder thought to himself. Finally, Scully found the words. "I...I wish you *had* done something that night, Mulder," she said. "I was scared at first because of the mosquito bites, but later - as I was listening to you talk in your room - I sometimes wish that you *would* have climbed into that bed with me." She looked up into his eyes, searching for his reaction. She saw his face, saw the dawning realization of what they had both missed - an opportunity that the two of them, in their cool professionalism, had let pass and left them regretting it for the past five years. she thought, And then she smiled for him. It was a true heartfelt smile that came from within. And she blinded Mulder with that thousand-watt grin. It was a sight that Scully had never graced Mulder with before. He thought it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his entire life. Mulder never imagined that Dana Scully could look even more gorgeous and desirable than she was before. Her beaming face proved him wrong. Taking the smile as a sign, Mulder decided to make good on his original intentions with Scully. He slowly raised his palms to lightly cup her face as he had done before. And then he said to her, "I love you, Scully. I always have. And if you'll have me, I'd like to show you how much I love you for the rest of your life." He looked into her eyes to see her reaction. As before, the tears began to well up in Scully's eyes. This time, there was no uncertainty on her part. There was no embarrassment or anger at her being vulnerable in front of him. Mulder could see the truth and beauty of his love for her mirrored in her expressive doe-eyes. With great difficulty, Scully could only utter the words "Oh, Mulder" in a tiny, girlish voice. The power of Mulder's declaration overwhelmed her, making it incredibly difficult for her to think or speak. Luckily, what happened next required little thinking on Dana Scully's part. She leaned forward and raised herself on the tips of her toes. She wanted to show Mulder that the attraction between the two of them was not one-sided. But Mulder met her halfway - a compromise that embodied their symbiotic working relationship. And after five years of frustration and unrequited desires, Mulder and Scully's lips met (romantically, anyway) for the first time. At first, it was a tender, almost chaste kiss. They explored each other tentatively. They each noticed the soft, tender lips of the other. The sensation was new, yet oddly familiar - almost natural in a way. Then, as they drew closer together, the kisses deepened and changed somehow. Scully's analytical mind kicked in once again and noted that deep repressed sexual tension was rising to the surface. The passion in their kiss foretold of new and exciting experiences. Scully was incredibly aroused. She thrust her tongue into Mulder's mouth, raking it across his front incisors. With a low moan, Mulder responded in kind, wrapping his tongue around her own. Mulder ran his hands across Scully's back. The pajama top she wore was cool to his touch. His hands stopped at a point just above the erotic swell of her upper hips. He drew her even tighter to him, crushing his straining erection against her abdomen. Scully gasped and broke the kiss. She stared at him with a strange look. He feared he had overstepped some kind of boundary and offended her. "Scully...I'm sor-" "Shut up, Mulder," she said throatily. "I want you." And as he looked closer into her eyes, he realized that she did. "Take me to bed," she said with finality. To punctuate her statement, she coiled her hands behind Mulder until she grasped his buttocks and gave them a quick squeeze, pleasantly surprising him. Scully moved her hands up and pulled the bottom of Mulder's T-shirt out of his pants. "Oh, Agent Scully," Mulder murmured into her ear, as he suckled an earlobe. "I never knew you could be so naughty." "You haven't seen anything yet, Agent Mulder," was her breathy response. And with that, she thrust her hands down the back of his jeans, slipping them under his boxers and raking her short fingernails over his bare buttocks. Now it was Mulder's turn to gasp. He reached for her and kissed her deeply again. With a short laugh he said to her, "You want to go to bed, my dear?" When she nodded vigorously at him, he bent over and scooped her legs out from under her. "Your wish is my command," he whispered to her. Her special smile returned. Mulder's heart swelled when he realized that look was meant to be seen by him and him alone. Carrying her was the easiest thing in the world, he mused. She was so tiny and light. Free to look upon her adoringly without the emotional barrier that had grown between them over the past few months, Mulder gazed at the copper-haired angel in his arms and thanked his lucky stars that he ever found such a wonderful woman to love. He knew he didn't deserve her, but he would spend the rest of his life making sure she didn't regret her choice. With her slender arms wrapped around him, Scully turned her head and began nuzzling Mulder's neck. "Mmm," she murmured, voicing her appreciation of the smooth, fragrant skin just behind his ear. She planted a wet kiss there, then she ran the tip of her soft, warm tongue over the ridge of Mulder's earlobe. The incredibly sensual gesture on her part rapidly elicited an intense reaction in Mulder's lower regions. His member strained painfully against his jeans. He hoped he would get some relief from this sweet agony in due time. Entering Scully's bedroom, Mulder stopped at the foot of her bed and looked at the petite woman he cradled in his arms. He felt like her protector at the moment - her "knight in shining armor," so to speak. In this position, Mulder almost imagined that he could prevent any pain from ever hurting her again. He could shield her from everything...except himself. <No, he decided. He vowed not to ditch her anymore or say cold, hurtful things to her ever again. He would probably fail at that - just as he failed at everything else in his life. But, although he knew he would never succeed in undoing the damages of the past, Mulder realized that Scully was worth all his effort to try. Thankfully, knowing Scully, being the generous, loving, and loyal person that she was, she would never expect anything more from him then his best effort. And Mulder was more than willing to give her only his best. With great difficulty, as a lump formed in his throat and the hot, salty tears began to well up in his eyes, Mulder spoke: "Scully, I've always loved you - will always love you. I want you to be with me forever." A single tear of release ran down Mulder's cheek and hung heavily from the bottom of his sculpted chin. Still in Mulder's arms, Scully opened her mouth slightly. He saw her lick her lips and he shuddered involuntarily with desire. Scully's full, sensuous lips glistened in the warm glow of her bedside reading lamp. Then, surprisingly, she raised her head and slowly kissed Mulder's chin, running her tongue across his raspy stubble and licking his tears away. Leaning back, she gave Mulder a Cheshire cat grin. Her eyes seemed smoky, darkened with love and desire for him. Scully always thought Mulder was an attractive man - in a quirkily unique way. With his unruly mane of hair, his hangdog eyes, prominent nose, slightly receded chin and a pouty lower lip, Mulder was not the usual example of the ultimate in male beauty (although his body was quite a different story), she thought to herself. But being here tonight, practically floating in Mulder's loving arms, and hearing his heartfelt admissions, Dana Scully was very sure that Fox Mulder was the most beautiful and wonderful man she had ever had the good fortune to lay her eyes on. The many trials and tribulations of their five years together were but a distant memory for her at this moment, for the essence of Mulder, his core was exposed to her now. And it was this part of him that she embraced and loved. Everything else was either a minor distraction...or pure gravy, she thought naughtily. Her wicked grin grew even wider. This drew a raised eyebrow from Mulder. She decided to speak first, lest he compel her to explain herself. "And I love you...Fox. For years I tried to think of you as only a friend - my best friend. But over time, I failed at that miserably. And I've cursed my weakness ever since that I was too afraid to tell you that." And now, she too felt the happy wetness upon her rosy cheeks. Mulder craned his neck and planted tiny kisses around the newly moistened areas of her face. Then he slowly, passionately moved closer and closer to her lips. Scully met him halfway and crushed her mouth to his. He thrust his tongue into her mouth. She sucked at the sensually textured flesh, hungrily biting the tip with her teeth. Breaking the kiss and breathing heavily, She asked him "Why don't you put me down, Mulder. You must be uncomfortable." He laughed throatily for her. "Scully, you're as light as a feather. I could carry you all night." But he laid her gently laid her down on the soft, downy comforter covering the bed anyway. She giggled slightly. "I'm glad you noticed. I guess all that running and watching what I eat finally worked," she said. Mulder couldn't resist. "Actually, I like my women with a little meat on their bones. I'm going to take perverse pleasure in fattening you up." His hazel eyes glittered mischievously. She laughed for him then, a full-throated heartfelt laugh of joy and relief. What she had wished for desperately for so long had finally happened - or nearly so, she corrected herself. There was only one thing left before their new life could begin. Was she ready? Was he? Scully asked the question, but got no answers. <Well, there's only one way to really find out, isn't there? she concluded. Quivering with anticipation, she cupped her hands around Mulder's face, noting the interesting contrast between her smooth, pale porcelain skin and Mulder's rougher tan features. She drew him down to her tenderly and brought his lips to hers. She gave him a slow, probing kiss. She tasted a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier but ignored it. She concentrated on the rasp of his darting tongue, the sexy smoothness of his front teeth, the soft, supple flesh of his lower lip. She felt his hands exploring areas she only imagined he would in the past. His touch was exquisite, she thought. His fingers trailed a path of tingling fire wherever it came into contact with her skin. He massaged her breasts through the satin of her nightwear, her tiny nipples hardening in reaction to his caresses. Mulder rubbed the tips of his fingers across her firm points poking prominently through the thin material. She was wearing nothing underneath the pajamas. Scully sighed contentedly while Mulder buried his face into her neck and growled in arousal. <God, I want him so bad, she heard a voice in her head say. She wondered who was speaking. She mentally shrugged and guessed that it was her inner self, the one who wasn't afraid of the truth or saying what she really felt. <Yes, now, it pleaded. She broke away from Mulder's embrace. "Now, Mulder. Now. Please," she uttered out loud. There was no room for denial anymore. Mulder looked deeply into Scully's eyes once again. Her irises seemed to sparkle in the dim light. He thought he could see golden flecks swimming amongst the shards of ice-blue. She was the most gorgeous, amazing person he had ever known. Scully was his friend, he noted, and now she would be his lover. And then the light on the nightstand went dark. And the night was quiet once again. Well...almost. June 29, 1998 7:25am Darkness gave way to light. The bright shafts of the morning rays burned through Dana Scully's bedroom window, creating warm pools of golden sunshine upon her hardwood floors. The quiet of the night was replaced by the calling of the birds on the cherry blossom tree just outside. Scully hovered in the comfortable space just between the serenity of slumber and the clarity of consciousness. In her mind's eye, she could see Mulder. He was caressing her hair, holding her face in his hands, planting soft kisses upon the pale alabaster skin of her eyelids, cheek, and neck. As she surfaced from under the gauzy haze of sleep, Scully felt all the lingering memories of the night before, as if each touch, each electric sensation she experienced with Mulder was permanently etched upon her skin and brain. She kept her eyes shut, but she smiled sweetly with the knowledge that something truly special had happened to her. Scully felt that she should feel different somehow, but aside from feeling happier than she had ever remembered being in her thirty-four years, she didn't think that things had changed all that much. The world still seemed to revolve around the sun, day still followed night, and they were both still Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. She dearly hoped things wouldn't change. But being the analytical and practical person she was, Scully realized that would probably be too much to wish for. she chided herself. With the contented grin still upon her face, she swept her hand across to the other side of the bed, intending to reach for her newfound lover. Instead, she was greeted with empty air and the cool fabric of a seemingly unused pillow. With a shock, Scully's eyes flew open. She raised her head up in alarm. For one horrifying moment, she thought her romantic interlude with Mulder had only been a dream, a wonderful subconscious reaction attributable to a combination of wishful thinking and stress. Scully began to tear up, lamenting the cruel fate that had relegated her to pining hopelessly for her partner, never allowing her to make real what she enjoyed freely in sleep. But then... She saw it. Placed lovingly upon the top of the pillow next to her was a single long-stemmed red rose. Scully's tears did streak down her cheeks then - not due to distress but instead because of the intense upwelling of emotion she felt in response to Mulder's thoughtful and loving gift. She was touched beyond words. Scully hesitantly picked up the blood-red flower, almost afraid that it would disintegrate into an ethereal wisp of smoke. "Oh, Mulder," she murmured between her happy and relieved sobs. Scully couldn't contain herself. She was glad Mulder wasn't here to witness her reaction. <He'd probably laugh at me, she thought, embarrassed at her temporary weakness. She wiped demurely at her eyes and sniffed quietly. When she had regained her composure, she brought the rose up to her face and rubbed the soft, tender petals gently across her lips. She smiled again, thinking of him. She breathed in deeply (well, as much as a woman with a runny nose from crying could), taking in the familiar fragrant essence of the flower forever associated with love and romance. The thought jumped into her mind, unbidden. she wondered. Scully herself didn't think there was all that much to love about herself. She admitted she was intelligent, sure, but that was usually a hindrance, as most men felt threatened by her mental prowess. Scully knew she wasn't buxom. She was short. Her facial features were acceptable, she thought - although she felt her lips always looked like somebody had punched her square in the mouth. Scully sadly conceded that her looks and stature were nowhere close to those found in the present paragons of beauty on the movie screen or on fashion runways. And her personality - Scully didn't even want to go there. She imagined she would be regarded as detached and cold, even hostile on a bad day. She felt that her unofficial (and silently derisive) Bureau nickname of "Ice Queen" was well deserved. After some reflection, she concluded the only person who understood her completely was Mulder. He knew the depths and passion of her feelings. He knew she just didn't know how to express herself in an effective manner. And - go figure - Mulder seemed to like her looks as well, she thought as she shook her head in amazement. Mulder knew that deep down Scully feared the hurt that comes from opening up. He knew why she avoided facing the pain that resulted from depending on another person completely. Life was just too difficult to do otherwise, she believed. Yes, Mulder knew that better than anyone else, she realized. And this made her love for Mulder all the more special, she knew. For two people - who found it hard to trust anyone - had found it in themselves to put their complete and utter trust into one another. To be able to say that you trust your life to someone, thought Scully, meant that you were as close to that person as was humanly possible. She had that kind of relationship with Mulder. Scully had put her life in Mulder's hands more times than she cared to remember, and he did the same for her. Simply put, she and Mulder were soulmates - one soul occupying two separate, distinct bodies. And last night, they nearly succeeded in merging their two distinct bodies, Scully remembered with a sweet smile. Kissing one of the rose petals lightly, she put it back down onto the pillow. That was when she noticed the note sitting on her nightstand. It was a piece of paper folded in half. With a growing sense of curiosity, Scully picked it up and opened it slowly. She began to read the note, written in Mulder's distinctive scrawl: "Scully, Sorry to run out on you like this, but I never got that shower you promised me last night, so I decided to get cleaned up at home. I think I'd like to get a few miles of running in, as I need some time to think. Last night was a few years in coming, I think you'll agree. It was the single most pleasurable, intense and incredible...event that has ever happened to me in my entire life. I love you, Dana. I hope last night will be the beginning of a newer, strengthened relationship, and not the end of what he had together for the past five years. Where do we go from here? Your guess is as good as mine, but as long as we're together Scully, things will be okay for me. I hope you feel the same way. I hate to sound cliched, but I will give you a call later on today. Take it easy and enjoy your vacation. Life happens fast enough that we don't need to rush it along. The rose is another typical affectation - but what can I say? Being in love with the most wonderful and beautiful woman that ever walked the face of the earth is new to me (well, not so new, but you know what I mean). Sometimes the tried-and-true methods are the most effective, Don't you think?" Scully paused in reading the letter long enough to smell the fragrant scent of the rose once again. "Yes, Mulder," she replied to the empty room. "Very effective." She concentrated on the letter. "I'll say it again, Dana - as many times as it takes for you to believe me. I love you. I don't ever want us to be apart again. I'll be here for you - always. Talk to you later. Love, Fox" Scully was beaming. It was always easier to say what you felt in a letter rather than face-to-face. Her smile faded and her face suddenly reddened with shame when she remembered thinking similar thoughts the night she decided to quit the FBI. She told Mulder she considered leaving without telling him to his face. But in the end, Scully knew that wouldn't be fair to Mulder. She did indeed screw up her courage and she told him she was leaving the FBI...and him. she asked herself. After last night, Scully finally realized how precious the feelings between them really were, how truly rare and pure their love was. To think that she would have had the gall to throw all that away without a fight...it made her feel slightly ill. And she also realized how fortunate she was that she actually *had* another chance with Mulder. If he hadn't come looking for her after "they" took her...she shuddered at the thought of how close to death she had come once again. Mulder characteristically refused to elaborate about what exactly had happened after she was stung by that bee, but the haunted look on his face said it all for her: things had gotten very bad for both of them. She shuddered violently in the warm bed, chilled by her inability to recall the events surrounding her latest abduction. Shaking her head to clear the dark thoughts out of her mind, Scully rolled out of bed, noting self-consciously that she was completely nude. She normally didn't bound around her house naked, but after her long overdue lovemaking session with Mulder, she felt incredibly liberated. Passing the floor-length mirror mounted on the closet door in the hallway, Scully paused long enough to examine her petite body - surprisingly none the worse for wear after all the physical hardships she had to endure - and tried to visualize how Mulder saw her. The lust in his eyes last night told Scully that he liked what he saw. Running her hands lightly over her breasts, stroking them down over the soft flesh of her belly and down to the auburn curls below...<Oh, yes, she thought as she remembered Mulder's tender touches and other pleasurable ministrations. Before she could get any more involved with her naughty thoughts, Scully dashed for the bathroom. she told herself. Fox Mulder's Apartment Alexandria, Virginia 9:15am Bounding up the stairs toward his apartment, Mulder breathed in deeply through his nostrils and blew his breath out of his mouth. Reaching his door, he repeated the breathing, arguably to regulate his heart rate and to cool himself down after his brisk run. But he knew the nervousness and edginess he felt was causing him to practically hyperventilate and had nothing to do with physical exertion. <Well, exertion due to running anyway, Mulder thought with a wicked grin. He fumbled for his keys and managed to open the deadbolt first, then the doorknob. As he opened the door, he noticed for the first time in years that the pair of brass numbers mounted on his door was in need of repair. The number two - part of the "forty-two" signifying his apartment number - hung precariously on one nail upside down, giving the threshold to his home a forlorn and neglected appearance. Mulder noted. <Wait, he corrected himself. <That's not completely true, at least not anymore, he amended. Crossing over into his apartment and shutting the door, he finally allowed himself to think about the last few hours and all the implications of what had taken place during that time. Mulder reflected on his belief that now they had crossed some kind of intimacy barrier, things had changed between Scully and himself. Was that true? And if so, how? What would become of their friendship? And of particular concern to the lanky, dark-haired agent was what would become of their search for the truth? Twisting his neck and stretching his arms over his head to loosen kinked muscles tightened by exercise and stress, Mulder headed over to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He grabbed an available glass from his cupboard and filled it to the rim from the tap. He drank deeply, gulping the water so hungrily, he surprised himself. Drops of water spilled over his lips and landed sloppily on his neck and chest. It was then that he realized he hadn't had any liquid since last night - and that was the Jack Daniels he had guzzled at Casey's. Mercifully, the hangover he feared never really materialized. he asked himself. As amazing as their lovemaking was the night before, Mulder wouldn't have been a bit surprised if it were true. Remembering last night, Mulder shook his head in wonder. He thought to himself, He was shocked that he hadn't recognized his need for water beforehand. But he knew the reason for it: he had a lot on his mind. He couldn't get *her* out of his head. <God, Scully, he thought to himself. Five years of knowing this sultry and engaging woman and it took him *this* long to express his true feelings for her? he said to himself - and he meant it. The "sap" drank a second glass of water, less desperately this time, and he moved to his refrigerator to look for something to eat. He was certain he was as hungry as he was thirsty, but the only thing greeting him after opening the door was a carton of spoiled milk (only by three weeks this time), and a lonely half-eaten container of Chinese takeout. Mulder declined to rediscover exactly what it was. he joked to himself. So instead, he closed the door and ruminated about his next move. That he would take a shower and change into some acceptable form of casual attire was a given, but after that, Mulder was uncertain. he wondered again. Passing through the foyer into his sparse living room, Mulder pondered some more. He walked up to his fish tank and stared at the two goldfish swimming contentedly around inside. He opened the container of fish flakes sitting atop the tank and tapped a bit onto the surface of the water. The two of them swam spastically toward the surface and merrily began to gulp the food down. The goldfish were a gift from Scully when the previous tenants of the fish tank bit the big one due to Mulder's absent-mindedness. She had asked him why he kept them as pets when they traveled so much for work. Frankly, Mulder remembered thinking, he had no idea why he insisted on pets in his home. After a moment of reflection, he told her that it was so sterile and stark (not to mention lonely) in his tiny bachelor's hovel, he needed something alive in there to inject some kind of vitality into his depressing abode. He also admitted to her that staring into the tank and watching the fish swim lazily about had a very calming effect. Sometimes, he would sit for hours, brooding over some dark, ominous government conspiracy while zoning out on the methodical plodding of the little creatures inside that rectangular tank. He told her that it sometimes helped to take the edge off of the powerful emotions dredged up by their job. That seemed to interest her at the time, Mulder remembered. Once, when Scully had come over to pick Mulder up on the way to the airport to investigate a case in Florida, he caught her sitting on his sofa, staring raptly at the fish. She hadn't realized he was watching her. He was standing just around the corner, near the entrance to his bedroom. Her head was turned away from him, but he could sense serious contemplation practically radiating from her. That was one moment, added to many others that caused Mulder to fall in love with Scully. He marveled at her beauty, but he was also incredibly attracted to her immense intelligence and deep passions. One day a few months ago, Mulder had returned home from another long case, only to discover all of the fish dead and floating belly up in the still waters of the tank. He had forgotten to dump in one of those hideous long-term food tablet thingies for the fish to gnaw on while he was away. Although he had no strong emotional attachment to the fish, he still felt acutely guilty that his forgetfulness has caused a life - however simple - to perish. <I've failed yet again, Mulder berated himself. That night, Mulder unceremoniously gave the fish the porcelain burial-at-sea, and then wondered what Scully would think about his aquatic genocide. When Scully found out what he'd done, she wasn't particularly distressed, but she seemed a bit sad just the same. A couple of days later, Scully showed up at Mulder's apartment without warning, bearing a gift. Back in the here and now, Mulder was staring blankly at the gift - two common goldfish, one a bright orange and the other white with red spotting. Their gossamer tails trailed gracefully behind their rounded shimmering bodies. When Mulder asked her why she had gone through all the trouble, she replied, "Someone has to keep you company, Mulder. And when I'm not here for you, these little guys will just have to be a substitute." She tried to be nonchalant about it, but the underlying tenderness and caring that he felt from his partner that day touched him deeply. Mulder had realized then that he was hopelessly in love with Special Agent Dr. Dana Katherine Scully, M.D. But he never thought he was ever going to be able to bring himself to tell her so. He had been wrong. And as a wide grin spread across his face, Mulder decided that he had never been so glad to be proven wrong about anything in his whole life. Mulder decided. he thought. <Much, much better. He straightened up quickly and made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. 11:21am Scully was getting restless. she worried. <Great, Mulder's regressed me back to the tenth grade, she lamented. At that time, a young, naive, carrot-topped Dana Scully fretted over Billy Wilder, also wondering why he never called. She later found out that he never called her after that first date because Billy had lost a bet with his friends and therefore was forced to ask "Geeky Dana Scully" out. She had been so thrilled that any boy would ever consider going out with her - an independent, bookish, bespectacled and shy girl - that she blindly ignored his constant snide remarks to her and his deplorable social graces. She realized now that was one event in her life that had contributed to her issues with intimacy and trust in adulthood. Dredging up such painful memories made Scully uncomfortable, and she briefly blamed Mulder for making her remember. But, after taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, she realized he couldn't know about her life before the FBI, and therefore could not be held responsible for her discomfort. Still, as she paced in front of the sofa, wringing her hands in anxiety, she couldn't help but feel Mulder was raking her over the coals by making her wait for him. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Scully picked up the phone and began to dial Mulder's home number. And then she put it back down...again. Her stomach rumbled loudly. She hadn't eaten anything all morning. She couldn't. She was so nervous, she wondered if she would be able to hold anything down. So instead of risking mortification by throwing up all over Mulder, Scully decided against food. She heard a louder growl, accompanied by a distasteful lurch somewhere deep inside. Scully was about to venture into the kitchen to fuss over what she could handle in order to quell the groans from her midsection when her phone rang. In an instant, she bolted to the table where the phone sat and picked it up. "Mulder?" she asked as she pressed the button. A brief pause followed, where Scully was sure she had embarrassed herself by speaking so soon. <It's probably AT&T asking if I want to switch long-distance carriers again, she thought morosely. "Scully," Mulder finally spoke. Scully's face lit up like a searchlight. "I hope you weren't waiting for me on pins-and-needles like you sound like you were," he said calmly. She could see the smug grin on his face. "Of course not, Mulder," she lied. "It's, it's just...no one calls me usually, so who else could it be?" she stammered, trying to sound casual. <Oh, yeah...remember the tenth grade, "Geeky Scully?" she berated herself. He laughed softly, and after a moment, she found herself returning the laugh, realizing how silly she was acting. <It's only Mulder...It's only Mulder, she tried to remind herself. "I missed you," she said quietly. "Waiting to call you was torture," Mulder replied. "So why did you wait?" she asked without malice. "I was...busy with something," he said hesitantly. Scully wondered. "Have you had anything to eat yet?" he asked, trying to change the subject. "Yeah...well, no, actually," she said, unable to lie to him. He always knew when she lied. "Good," Mulder answered. "I've got something, so I'll come right over." "Sounds great, Mulder. See you soon," she said sweetly. Her hands had become sweaty and her face flushed with the anticipation of his arrival. "Okay," he replied. "Oh, and Scully?" "Yes?" "Remember those fish you got for me?" he asked. "Uh-huh." <Oh, no. He's killed them too? she thought irritably. "Well...uh, never mind, Scully. I'll talk to you about it later. Bye." And that was that. she screamed inwardly. Scully pressed the button, silencing the dial tone. She looked down at the cordless phone in her hand and smirked at her exchange with Mulder. Despite the underlying nervousness they both felt, things had gone quite well, she admitted. <Perhaps, it won't be so hard after all, she hoped. <Yeah, right, she amended with a grin. And then she heard a knock on the door. she said to herself. Still, she quickly gave herself the once over: nice white dress shirt (cuffs folded), pleated khakis, sensible flats. Just a touch of lipstick. Hair brushed. She tested her breath - it was okay. <Whoo-boy, Dana, a voice in her head teased. she answered. The second knock came, louder this time. She quickly made her way to the door and stretched up to look into the peephole. Nothing. There was no one there. Alarms went off in her head. Scully quickly walked over and reached for her issue Sig-Sauer 9mm pistol which was lying on her kitchen table, where she had cleaned and serviced it the night before. She slammed a magazine into the well and drew the slide back, releasing it to chamber a round. Holding the bulky semi-auto loosely behind her right thigh, she cautiously opened the door and peered into the quiet hallway Again, she saw nothing. She began to think that whoever had knocked had decided to give up and leave. That was when she realized a presence - at her feet. Scully looked down in shock. A tiny golden-brown Pomeranian puppy was looking up at her with twinkling, innocent eyes. Its small pink tongue lolled lazily out of its mouth. It fidgeted on its front paws, as if wondering why the lady in front of it wasn't doing anything to acknowledge its existence. Remembering her beloved Queequeg, Scully's heart melted. "Oh, my god!" she exclaimed. "Are you lost, sweetie?" She bent down in her open doorway and reached for the furry creature. Ecstatic that the lady was finally showing some promise, the Pomeranian leaped into her lap and began licking Scully's face. She laughed giddily and stroked the puppy's long, soft coat while at the same time trying to extricate herself from its enthusiastic embrace. Then, her rational mind took over. Who had knocked on the door? Putting the dog down, she picked up her Sig and stood warily, looking out at the open doorway. "Hello?" she said firmly and authoritatively. She was, after all, still an FBI agent, she reminded herself. A brown paper sack appeared in the doorway, attached to a male hand. The grease-stained bag was emblazoned with a logo from Brothers K, a fast-food restaurant less than a block from her apartment. A familiar voice spoke from the hallway, "Don't shoot, G-woman. I bring you gifts." Releasing a breath she was unaware she was holding, Scully said "Mulder," in a relieved voice. She lowered her gun just as Mulder poked his head around the corner. "We've gotta stop meeting like this, Scully. You almost killed me last night, now you wanna shoot me," he joked while wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "It's enough to give a man a complex." "How did you get here so fast, Mulder?" she asked. He simply waved his cellphone at her. "Oh," she said. she told herself. Laying the bag on a table and kicking the door shut with his heel, Mulder walked into Scully's welcoming embrace. Now that he was in her arms and she felt Mulder's heat emanating from his body and she breathed in the smell of his aftershave, Scully wondered why she had felt nervousness about seeing him again. She should have known that being with Mulder would be the most natural thing in the world. "Want a complex, Mulder?" she asked in a sultry purr. "How about I make you a sex-addict?" Holding her tight, Mulder bent down and kissed Scully tenderly. He tasted the minty essence leftover from her mouthwash and breathed in her powder-fresh scent mixed with the spicy-sweet aroma of her shampoo. He felt himself harden immediately. <Mmm, thought Mulder. "Too late," he murmured in response after breaking the kiss. He flashed her a toothy grin. She returned it and ran her palm affectionately along Mulder's clean-shaven cheek. She felt an insistent scratching on her calf. "Oh," she said excitedly. "I almost forgot about you little fella," she said sweetly as she picked up the tiny pooch. After nuzzling the squirming puppy, she looked at Mulder. "What is this, Mulder?" she asked. "It's a dog, Scully," he replied neutrally. He put his hands on his hips and smiled innocently. "You know what I mean," she warned. "Why?" "Well," he began to explain. "After last night, I got to thinking, and I realized how much you cared for me all these years and I remembered all the nice, loving things you've done for me. And it made me see that I haven't really returned the sentiment." He sighed loudly, as if he had just admitted to a terrible secret. Scully was taken aback. "Mulder, that's not true. You've done a lot for me," she protested. "After my first abduction...and my last birthday, for example." Mulder shook his head. "Superstars of the Superbowls, A sparkling Hostess Sno-Ball, and an Apollo 11 keychain can't be considered thoughtful exactly, Scully," he said guiltily. It sounded even more idiotic when he ran them off out loud, he thought to himself. Scully gritted her teeth imperceptibly. <He'll never get over this, she acknowledged sadly. <He'll always prefer this self-flagellation. With a tired sigh of her own, she grasped his hand while carrying the warm Pomeranian under her other arm. "I treasure those gifts, Mulder," she explained. "Because they're from you." She looked down at the puppy, who peered up at her and began licking its chops. She smiled down at Mulder's latest gift. "Besides, all I *really* need is you," she finished, looking right up into Mulder's tortured hazel eyes. Scully reached around Mulder's neck and drew him to her. She kissed him slowly and passionately. She drew back and said, "Thank you, Mulder...for everything." Rendered speechless, Mulder could only smile and nod. Finally, he looked down at the furball under Scully's arm and decided to explain himself. "Remember the fish you got for me, Scully?" he asked. "Don't tell me, Mulder..." she tried to stop him. "No, no," he said, realizing what she was thinking. "They're fine." When he saw Scully relax, he continued. "Getting them for me really touched me, Scully. I couldn't bring myself to tell you that at the time, though," he said shyly. "Why not?" she wanted to know. "I thought something would slip," he answered. "I was afraid of letting you know just how much you mean to me and how much I appreciate everything you've done for me over the years. I just didn't know what was appropriate," he finished. "Well, Mulder," she said. "You never have to be afraid anymore." "I know," was his response. He continued explaining and pointed at the puppy. "So, to return the favor, I decided it was time for someone to take dear old Queequeg's place," he told her. "Just as long as she doesn't replace me in your heart," he added teasingly. Scully looked down at the mellowed-out puppy in her arms. "Oh, you're a girl, are you?" she said. The dog had the presence of mind to belt out a tiny responding bark. Scully laughed loudly, as did Mulder. When she looked up again, Mulder thought he detected Scully tearing up. Secretly, he was glad that he could bring out such powerful emotions from her. Mulder took satisfaction in the belief that he could recreate just a little bit of the joy that she filled his heart with everyday. He truly wanted her to be as happy as she could possibly be, and he would do anything to make her so. But as quickly as the tears came, they vanished under the strength of Scully's self-control. She blinked a few times, and then said "Thank you again, Fox." He was beginning to actually like it when she called him that. It was weird, almost...spooky, he joked to himself. They hugged each other tightly, liking the fact that they could now express the affection they felt without having to bottle it up and bury it under a surface of cool detachment. It was then they both realized at the same time that was no going back now. The die had been cast, and they would have to see this relationship to its logical end. Which end that would be, they didn't know - they didn't want to know. They would find out together. They were in love. And for now, it was more than enough for them. Six Weeks Later... Astadourian Textiles Warehouse Baltimore  Maryland 11:21pm It was dark. The only sounds came from the monotonous dripping of water somewhere off to his left. Mulder held his Sig-Sauer 9mm service pistol up in a two-handed grip and slowly scanned the area in his field of view. His pistol followed his gaze, although in the darkness, Mulder could make out very little within the warehouse he and Scully were presently searching. Mulder was especially on edge, as he had no idea where his partner was at the moment. He had no desire to shoot Scully accidentally. He resisted the urge to call out to her since that would give away his position. Although Scully would probably deck him if he said so, Mulder wished he could put his beautiful partner on a pedestal, where no harm would ever come to her. He knew it was a ridiculous fantasy, considering the job they both did, but he loved her deeply and didn't want Scully to suffer through any more hardships than she already had. Scully had truly suffered in every sense of the word because of him. His goddamn obsessions with finding the "Truth" had effectively destroyed Scully's life. He shuddered at the memory of all the times she had been assaulted, kidnapped and experimented on. he berated himself. Mulder paused in the darkness. For although they were now more than just partners, and he had tried to express his deep love for her in many ways, Mulder still felt that he would never be able to make it up to her - to undo all the pain that still lingered within her. he thought sadly. He would never be able to change the worst thing of all. She would never be able to bear children. She would never be able to bear *his* children. They would never know the special bond that comes from the creation of something so unique: a child - a physical manifestation of their love for each other. Mulder lamented the fact that he would never hold a tiny little version of Scully in his arms or see himself reflected in the cries of his own son. And it was all because of him. Because of her undying love and loyalty to a half-crazed obsessive-compulsive with a badge and a gun, Dana Scully's life was ruined. He was actually surprised that she remained sane after all the shit she'd been through. <Well, she *was* sane most of the time, anyway, he mused. With Mulder around, it sometimes came down to "Folie a deux" - a madness shared by two. Mulder didn't know what to do. He loved her so much sometimes, it physically hurt. He respected her enough to keep working with her as a partner, but a part of him wanted Scully as far away from the X-Files as possible. Although Mulder would never have met Scully if it were not for the X-Files, he knew that it would eventually kill one or both of them if they kept on their present course. But he would never be able to stop. Not until he found out what happened to Samantha, and not until the threat of alien colonization was stopped. And as dangerous as these goals might prove to be, Scully had vowed to be there with him, every step of the way. Mulder sighed softly in the murky blackness. A faint metallic scraping sound came from Mulder's right. Drawing himself from his brooding, distracting thoughts, Mulder crouched lower and stealthily moved in between two large packing crates to advance on the point where he heard the noise. <Please, Scully, he pleaded silently. <Don't make any foolish moves. Mulder realized that Scully rarely behaved in any manner which could be construed as foolish, but he worried for her just the same. They had cornered the suspect, a thirty-six-year-old male employed by the Department of Defense. Mulder had uncovered evidence that this man was directly involved with several missing persons cases over the past three months. The evidence also hinted that these "abductions" were directly linked to the shadow government conspiracy that the two agents had been chasing after for almost six years. Mulder and Scully had followed the DOD operative to a large warehouse in an industrial complex in the heart of Baltimore. Intending to tail the suspect and gather evidence concerning the man's modus operendi, they instead had the misfortune of being spotted. Needless to say, a chase ensued and ended up with the two of them inside the dark warehouse, trying to catch the slippery suspect. The man had taken several potshots at them at the start of the pursuit, so they knew he was armed and dangerous. Once inside, they decided to split up, in an attempt to flush the man out in a pincer movement. It was pretty risky, but Mulder wasn't one for conventional behavior in the daily course of his workday. That Scully - a fount of discretion and level-headedness - deigned to follow him blindly into these situations never failed to amaze him. a voice in his head said. <Why? he asked. Mulder shook his head slowly in the shadows. he thought. <She'll get really hurt one of these days, he told himself. He began debating whether or not they should just forget about this. Although the investigation was legitimate, it was getting too risky and he couldn't take it anymore. Mulder knew his concern over Scully's safety was beginning to interfere with his ability to investigate cases effectively, but after saving Scully from certain death in Antarctica, he came to the conclusion that he just didn't care anymore. Mulder had decided when all was said and done, Scully was worth more to him than "The Truth." He was simply in love with her. If anything happened to Scully, Mulder wasn't sure if he'd be able to go on - either with the X-Files or living, for that matter. Mulder had the nagging feeling that life would not be worth suffering through without her in the world. With his mind made up, Mulder decided to take some of the risk upon himself - to draw some of the potential danger away from Scully. He stood up from where he was crouching and began to yell. "Scully!" he bellowed, the sound bouncing off corrugated steel and creating a resounding echo. "Don't say anything. Just hold your position until I can get to you." He waited once he finished, hoping that Scully would not answer. Mulder breathed a sigh of relief after he got no response. Now as long as the suspect keeps his cool, Mulder reasoned, he could find Scully and ge- WHOOMP! Mulder heard the sound of the hollow steel pipe slicing through the air before he felt the crushing blow to his chest. Mulder felt like a bus had just hit him. As he dropped his pistol and sank to the ground, he realized that he might have been *too* successful in drawing attention away from his partner. He heard the clatter of the pipe being dropped on the concrete floor. "OOOF!" Mulder felt the air rushing from his lungs and the blinding pain as his assailant landed a vicious kick to his side. His vision was beginning to darken, much more than the relative blackness within the warehouse. He knew he was losing consciousness, but he could still hear a voice calling to him faintly: "Mulder!" It was Scully. "No," groaned Mulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder saw the looming shape before him draw a weapon. His attacker raised his arm out toward Mulder's left, obviously getting a bead on Scully. <NO! Mulder screamed in his head, as he could not catch his breath to yell a warning to her. Instead, gathering every ounce of strength he had left, Mulder drew back both legs and thrust outward with all of his might. CRACK! Mulder connected with the side of the man's left knee. Since a human's knee joints were not designed to bend sideways, Mulder succeeded in breaking the man's leg. With a wail of pain, the man collapsed on his left side. Mulder could actually see the man's eyes glittering with agony and rage in the near-dark. And then Mulder realized, too late, what a foolish move his attack was on an armed man. The DOD operative turned his pistol towards Mulder. It was as if Mulder was watching a movie in slow motion. He could see into the barrel of the gun, the gaping hole was darker than anything else in the room. Mulder could still hear Scully calling, but he couldn't answer. His mouth was paralyzed in a moment of contemplation. Mulder knew he couldn't move fast enough to avoid the gunfire, and so he spent his last moments regretting that he would be leaving Scully behind again. he thought sardonically. Mulder's last coherent thought was: she thought. Pushing the fear aside, she homed in on the direction of the shots. She was nearly on top of them when she reached her destination. Scully made out a nebulous shape rising from behind a crate. Following procedure, she adopted a two-handed modified Weaver stance and braced her pistol against the box she stood behind. "FBI! Don't move!" she screamed. Her fear and panic was bubbling to the surface, and it was all she could do to not lose control of the situation. And to her dismay, the shape turned and pointed in an obvious manner. Scully ducked down as several rounds zinged overhead and splintered the top of the wooden box. Without conscious effort, Scully rose up, weapon ready. She acquired the target who was bolting away from her at surprising speed, considering he was obviously injured. She tried to line up her sights on the limping, retreating form. But in the darkness, she realized that it was a losing proposition. "Stop!" she bellowed. The shape kept on running. Since Bureau rules stated that no fleeing suspect could be shot in the back unless the direct safety of the agent in question or innocent civilians or other law enforcement personnel were in immediate jeopardy, Scully let the suspect go. She wouldn't take off after him until she found Mulder. She heard a squeaky door at the far end of the warehouse open quickly and saw a small rectangle of gray appear and disappear just as rapidly. But Scully's attention was now turned towards the floor on her right. She thought she made out a shape there too. Pointing her pistol at the shape, she spoke softly, "Mulder?" No answer. She took a step closer - and nearly slipped. There was moisture on the floor, and before she could identify the source, a realization dawned upon her. "Oh, no," she breathed. "Mulder!" Ignoring the blood on the ground, she got down on her hands and knees. She let her pistol drop loudly to the floor, and frantically scratched at her coat to retrieve the flashlight that Mulder insisted they refrain from using in the confines of the warehouse, lest they give away their locations. Turning on the beam to wide coverage, she passed it over the immobile form under her. Scully felt herself go white with shock. <Oh, god. No. No. She looked down at an unconscious and profusely bleeding Mulder. "Mulder!" She yelled. "Can you hear me?" She cradled his head under one hand. She placed the fingers of her other on his carotid artery, searching for a pulse. She was relieved to find one, although it was faint and thready. Allowing her medical training to take over, she immediately moved her gaze to his wounds. Stuffing the compact flashlight into her mouth, Scully tore at Mulder's ruined dress shirt. Although Scully had been through an E.R. residency and had seen nearly every kind of physical injury known, she had to resist gagging at what she saw. Mulder had taken two close-range gunshots to the abdomen. One of the shots penetrated just below his left ribcage, while the other was situated in the lower abdomen, just to the right of his navel. The gaping dark holes were bleeding heavily. Scully knew her first order of business was to stop the bleeding, or his blood pressure would drop to dangerous levels. Now holding the light in the crook of her neck, Scully quickly removed her coat and tore at her blouse sleeve. She was thankful that she decided to wear a cotton one today instead of the silk ones that she loved - as cotton would prove to be more absorbent. She again tore at the sleeve until she had two pieces. She immediately pressed one to each of the two wounds and applied pressure. This elicited a strained groan from Mulder. His eyelids fluttered and he turned a glazed stare toward her. "Scully..." he said weakly. He coughed loudly in the quiet of the warehouse. "Mulder," was all she could manage. "You've gotta help me out here," she continued. When she saw him going under again, she bellowed, "MULDER!" His eyes snapped open. "Put your hands here...and here." She grabbed his hands and placed them over the wounds. "Hold it down hard, Mulder." When she was satisfied he was obeying the best he could, she murmured reassuringly to him "Mulder, I'm going to get you out of this, but you have to work with me. Hold your hands there, I'm going to reach under you to see if there's any exit wounds." He made no signs that he heard or understood. <Shit, she cursed. <He's slipping into shock. Knowing she had little time, she reached under Mulder's lower back. The lower abdomen wound had no exit hole, but the upper left one did. She could feel the warm flow pumping over her palm. Desperate, she thrust her left index finger into the hole to staunch the bleeding. Not surprisingly, this drew a painful grunt from Mulder. She grimaced, nearly unable to bear the obvious agony her partner was experiencing. Without much else she was able to do, she reached over to her coat and pulled out her cellphone. She dialed 911 one-handed and waited for an answer. "911," a tired female voice said. "This is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI," she replied. "I have shots fired and an agent down with multiple gunshot wounds. I need an EMT at 1013 West Tisbury Avenue. We're in the Astadourian Textiles Warehouse." After a brief pause, the now alert woman said, "Understood. An ambulance is on it's way, ten minutes ETA, Agent Scully." "Hurry!" Scully exclaimed before disconnecting the call. She had no idea where the nearest hospital was. She hoped that Mulder still had ten minutes left in him until the ambulance arrived. <Oh, god. The seriousness of the situation was hitting her hard now. "Mulder," she spoke soothingly in his ear. "Please stay with me. Don't leave me..." She didn't know what else to say. In the faint glow of her flashlight, Scully took in the horror she was trying to distance herself from. She was covered in blood...Mulder's blood, she realized. Her hands and arms were deep red up to her elbows. Her legs were drenched in a thin pool of sticky, rapidly cooling blood. There was so much blood. After fighting a wave of nausea and panic, Scully finally broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. She feared this much blood loss meant that Mulder was too far gone to survive. Holding one arm over the wounds on top and keeping the finger of the other hand firmly in Mulder's exit wound, Scully tried to compose herself, but when she looked at Mulder's deathly pale face, she knew that it was over. "S-Scul...Scully." Mulder's voice was faint. Scully looked up quickly. The wetness in her eyes blurred her view. "Mulder," she whispered. "Don't talk, just stay still. You'll be okay. Don't give up on me." She knew that she was babbling, but she didn't know what else to do. She cursed the helplessness of their situation. <You're a fucking medical doctor, and what can you do for the man you love? Not a goddamn thing! Scully shut her eyes tightly, wishing they had never set foot into the warehouse tonight. Shaking her head at her useless thoughts, she raised up her head and gritted her teeth. "Mulder, don't you die on me!" she said loudly. "I love you! You can't go and leave me now. We were just getting started." She looked desperately into Mulder's eyes. And despite the fact that he was seriously wounded and was lapsing into shock, Mulder turned an unfocused look in Scully's direction - And he smiled for her. Scully let out a hysterical bark of laughter. She felt her tenuous grip on sanity slipping away. A wet cough snapped her attention back to Mulder. In the feeble beam of her flashlight, Scully witnessed another horror. The stomach wound was even more serious than she thought, as Mulder was now coughing up blood. It was dripping freely down his chin. Amazingly, Scully's body was on autopilot. Years of training, however rusty, told her to reach for his head and turn it to the side, to allow the blood to drain, lest he choke on it. <Where's that damn ambulance? her mind screamed. She frantically looked around in the dark, hoping she would hear or see something. "Mulder?" she said, looking back down. Nothing. He had fallen unconscious again. she thought. She leaned over and tenderly kissed a pale, cold cheek. And the tears fell again. she pleaded. <Don't take him yet. Please.  Finally, she could hear the faint sounds of a siren. It was getting louder. Scully brightened at the ray of hope that blossomed in her heart. "Mulder? The ambulance is here. Hold on for a little while longer, okay?" She prayed that he would answer, but was not surprised when he failed to respond. The next few minutes occurred as if it were happening in slow motion - as if she were underwater. Scully noted the white-uniformed Paramedics heading toward her with a stretcher. She was only faintly aware of one of them gently pulling her away from Mulder. Scully was even able to mutter a description of the injuries to one of them, although it seemed as if it were someone else speaking for her. She watched as the two men placed an oxygen mask over Mulder's face and began to dress the wounds with proper compresses. They quickly lifted Mulder onto the stretcher and wheeled him outside. Without another thought, Scully trailed after them. Speeding away in the ambulance, Scully recognized the vital stats one of the techs rattled off to the other as they checked for pupil dilation and took blood pressure readings. It didn't look good. He was unresponsive and his pressure was dangerously low. As they administered an I.V., Scully had a ridiculous flashback - although in retrospect, she suspected she was subconsciously trying to remember her dying partner in happier times: It was in a lobby - the Dallas Federal Building. The two had just finished another round of their familiar bantering, with Scully accusing Mulder of panicking. She smiled at the memory. "That isn't the face I make when I panic," he had said. "This is the face I make when I panic." Naturally, it was his normal poker-face that he adopted for nearly everything. Looking at Mulder's face now, she wondered if he indeed had his "panic face" on. She certainly felt it would be appropriate at this moment. Scully drifted back again to the same memory. It had been hot. Mulder had graciously agreed to buy her a drink. As embarrassing as it was to admit it, he was being so uncharacteristically sweet and considerate, it was all she could do not to jump into his arms and kiss him silly. His dry humor was in full swing: "Coke? Pepsi? Saline I.V.?" he had joked. Scully's vision focused on the present, her gaze falling upon the I.V. bag attached to the same man that she had spent the better part of six years with. She had been through the meat grinder with him before. She had thought him dead many times. But now, here, it was all too real. She could see him slipping away. <No. You can't die on me Mulder, her mind pleaded with the frail, unmoving creature she almost couldn't recognize as her tall, strong...lovable partner. Scully belatedly noted the loud beeping coming from the EKG unit next to Mulder. His pulse was weak - had it gotten weaker since they first administered aid to him? She didn't know. She hoped- And then she heard the sound she had heard so many times in her stint as a resident. Flatline. "Mulder!" She screamed. she told herself. She launched herself at him, in an a blind attempt at resuscitating him. One of the techs put out an arm to hold her back. "Whoa," he said firmly. "Ma'am, let us take care of this!" "I'm a doctor!" she retorted. "Okay, but we know what we're doing, doc," he answered sympathetically. "We're doing all we can." He turned to his companion. "He's crashing, going into V-fib," he stated matter-of-factly. The other tech said nothing, instead he immediately began CPR on Mulder. The shrill, consistent tone of the EKG told Scully that it wasn't working. She slumped back into the bench seat and covered her face with her hands. She noticed her hands were sticking to her face. <What? she wondered. She pulled them away and looked at them... They were bloody - with Mulder's blood. Scully let out a strangled cry of anguish. "This isn't working," she heard one say. "Get the paddles," the other replied. "Charging...ready!" "Clear!" The sound of electricity coursing through her partner's lifeless body reached Scully's ears. <NO! It couldn't be happening. She wouldn't let it. With a rising, boiling anger fueled by frustration and fear, she began to yell at Mulder. "Dammit, Mulder," she scolded him. "Don't you die on me! Do you hear me? This. Is. Not. Happening!" she screamed loudly. "Again," the tech told his partner, undaunted by the ranting of the petite redhead crouching next to him. "Charging...ready!" was the reply. "Clear!" And again, Mulder was shocked. The voltage shot through his heart, willing it through physics and chemistry to... Contract. Beat. Pump. Again. And again. "I've got a rhythm!" A voice cried out. The beeping of the EKG resumed. And so, Mulder was not dead. Not yet. Not now. A smile, unlike any that had crossed Dana Scully's face in all of her thirty-four years, crept up on her and spread like a blossoming flower. <Mulder...I love you, she declared to him silently. It was dark. he wondered. The last thing he remembered was...what? Pain. Blinding pain. He remembered sensations like burning fire through his gut. he exclaimed in his mind. His eyes flew open. There was white light, he realized - a blinding light above him. <I'm dead, he surmised. he thought humorously. A shadow crossed over his face. He squinted at the shape forming above. It was a face - a female face. He noticed it floating there in front of him. The face was studying him curiously - as if searching for something. The face was familiar to him...she was beautiful. he concluded, This angel had short, auburn hair. It wasn't flaming red, but it wasn't brown either. She had an exquisite, flawless face. Her skin was milky white. Her aquiline nose and broad chin were strong, yet very attractive, he noted. Her lips were full and the upper one had an appealing cupid's bow curve to it. But what struck him the most was her eyes. They were gorgeous. As he looked into those big, deep blue eyes, he decided that he could spend eternity staring into those limpid sapphire pools. Maybe this angel *would* let him spend the afterlife staring at her, he mused. He smiled. he thought. "Scully?" He croaked out. "Mulder?" the angel replied. Boom. Reality hit him like a boulder. He was not dead. This wasn't Heaven. He was alive. And Scully was here. Scully. His Scully. he thought with a gleam in his eye. He smiled for her. And with happy tears brimming in her eyes, she returned the smile. "We thought we'd lost you for awhile there," she said calmly. But Mulder could hear the relief and joy in her voice, just the same. "Scully," he whispered with the glint still in his eye. "You couldn't get rid of me that easily." And without warning, Scully leaned over and hugged Mulder around the neck tightly, as if afraid that at any moment, he would vanish into thin air. "Ugh...uh, Scully," he said in a strained and choked voice. "I can't breathe." She drew back as if burned. "Oh, I'm sorry," she replied apologetically. This elicited a soft laugh from Mulder, which was probably a mistake. Gunshot wounds to the abdomen did not lend themselves to comfortable laughter. Naturally, Mulder winced and regretted his actions. Sucking in a pained breath, he relaxed in the bed, until the red-hot pokers in his stomach relented in their agonizing prodding. "Aggh," he choked out. Scully laid a comforting hand over his injuries. "Mulder," she said soothingly. "Try to relax. The doctors still have you under some pretty heavy painkillers. It's probably wearing off - otherwise you would still be unconscious." "What happened?" he asked. He thought he could piece it together well enough, but he still wanted to hear it from Scully. He trusted her to tell him the whole truth. "Well," she began. "That DOD operative attacked you. You lost your weapon, and he ended up putting two rounds into your abdomen." He stared at her warily. He could feel his panic face coming. "How bad?" he asked. Scully sighed heavily. "It could have been much worse, Mulder," she replied. "I think we can be thankful that you're still here with us. You lost a lot of blood, and it was touch-and-go there for a while." She stood from the chair she was sitting on next to Mulder and began to pace. "Round number one damaged some of your large intestine and narrowly missed your liver. Round two perforated the lining of your stomach and exited out of your lower back. If it had passed an inch or so to your right side, it would have severed your spinal column." She stopped pacing and locked her gaze with Mulder's. "You're a very lucky man, Mulder," was all she said. "Really?" he replied. "I never knew having your guts rearranged by a couple of bullets qualified as a good thing, Scully." He knew his sardonic humor wasn't in his best interests at the moment, but... he admitted. She crossed her arms and her expression changed into that hard, admonishing stare that he knew so well. <That's the Scully I know and love, he thought to himself. "Mulder," she said exasperatedly. "You know what I mean." Then her features softened and her arms dropped to her sides. Mulder saw the fear that she must have felt, and he immediately felt guilty about baiting her. He really was lucky, he did admit that. "I, I thought I'd lost you - again," she whispered. "But this time Mulder, It was harder than all the rest. This time...it was different." Mulder knew what she was getting at, and he nodded sympathetically for her. And then Mulder saw the tears she had valiantly tried to hold back falling down her smooth, porcelain cheeks. He just wanted to hold her and make all the pain go away. <Well, he thought. <What's stopping you? Knowing what he had to do, Mulder held out his arms to his partner and lover. "I'm here Scully. It's okay." It was if a dam had broken or a rope had snapped. Sobbing heavily, Scully rushed into Mulder's waiting arms, all the while trying to avoid hurting him by disturbing his injuries. "I, I thought you were r-really going to l-leave me this time, and I didn't know h-how I was going to go on," she choked out between her sobs. Mulder felt the warm wetness on his cheek and neck. It was a comforting feeling, one that made him very glad to be alive. And in that instant, Mulder realized that he had been given many chances to really show Scully how much she meant to him, and that he probably wouldn't be given too many more. He decided that he wasn't going to push it any longer. He had to ask her. There was only one way to ensure her safety. Only one way he could keep searching for Samantha and have a modicum of safety for the one person he loved more than life itself. Was he being selfish? Was it fair to Scully to ask her to give up so much? Mulder wasn't sure, but it was the only way. He lifted his arm. It felt as if there were lead weights attached to it. He tenderly placed his hand on her head and began to stroke her hair. Mulder ignored the intensifying pain in his lower body. He would have time for more sedatives later. But right now... "Hey, Scully?" he whispered nervously. "Yeah?" came a muffled reply, somewhere near Mulder's neck. "Um, I've gotta ask you something," he continued. He felt Scully stiffen. But to her credit, she recovered sufficiently enough to raise her head and look Mulder in the eyes. The tears were drying up, and she swiped quickly at the remaining wetness on her face with a free hand. "What is it Mulder?" she asked, warily. he told himself. "Scully...will you marry me?" he blurted out. He waited for her reaction, sure he would be disappointed. But instead of receiving scorn or confusion, she surprised him with a wide, joyous grin. He had never seen Scully so happy. He returned the grin despite his apprehension. "Oh, Mulder," she said as she laid her head back down on his chest. "I would be honored to be your wife..." "But?" he asked her. He could tell by her tone that she had reservations. "But, no one even knows about us, Mulder," she answered in a rational tone. "How would it look to - say, Skinner - if we just came right out and got married?" Scully raised her head hesitantly, afraid that she was being unreasonable as well as ungrateful towards Mulder's wonderful proposal. "Who cares what anyone thinks?" Mulder answered truthfully. He knew she would feel this way. But he was prepared to make her see that he loved her too much to back away now. "Do you love me?" he asked. "Yes...more than you probably know, Mulder," she answered without hesitation. Mulder grinned. "And I love you more than life itself, Scully," he said. "That's why I want to be with you forever, as...a man and wife." Scully's smile faded, and she looked down at Mulder's chest. "But, Mulder," she whispered tremulously. "I'm damaged goods...I'll never be able to give you any children," she managed to choke out. Mulder cupped her face with his palms. "That's not why I want to marry you, Scully," he told her. He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I just want us to be more than 'Mr. and Mrs. Spooky' - laughingstocks of the FBI." The faint smile returned and she began to stroke Mulder's hair tenderly. Midway through one stroke, she stopped and looked into his eyes. Scully frowned slightly and said, "You realize if we take this as far as marriage, we won't be able to work together anymore." Mulder held his breath. <Okay, here we go, he grimaced inwardly. "Yes," was all he said. "So?" she asked. "What are we going to do? One of us will have to leave, and if we can't work on the X-Files together, you know we can't go on." Scully took a deep breath and continued. "You yourself said that you didn't think you could go on if I wasn't there for you," she said softly. "It would be the same for me if you left." Mulder knew what his next words would bring, but he felt compelled to voice them regardless. "If...if it meant that you would be safe, Scully. I think I might be able to stay with the X-Files," he said hesitantly. He looked into the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling within her radiant blue eyes and prepared himself for the coming onslaught. She pushed herself away from Mulder as quickly as she could without causing him any more discomfort. She crossed her arms over her chest as she loomed over the prone form of her partner on the bed. "Goddamn you Mulder," she hissed. "Is that what this is all about? You want me out of harm's way?" She took to pacing around the small room once again. She whirled on him, her eyes flashing with anger. "You were the one who got shot and nearly died, you bastard!" Scully spit the words out venomously. Mulder tried to stifle the now constant pangs of guilt pushing at him from all sides in addition to the throbbing pain in his gut. "That's why I'm asking this of you, Scully!" Mulder was trying to explain himself without seeming as self-centered as he knew he would appear to be. "I love you too much. I, I can't...I won't see you here in my place again, Scully. You've already been through too much." Furious now, Scully gripped the frame at the foot of Mulder's bed. Her knuckles began turning white. "You fucking asshole," she spit out. "I went into this with both eyes open, Mulder. You are not responsible for anything that happened to me, do you understand?" When she got no response, she yelled, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, MULDER?" Grudgingly, Mulder nodded. The pain in his midsection was becoming increasingly unbearable, but he wanted to settle this with Scully for good, and damned if he was going to stop now. He gritted his teeth and focused on the argument at hand. "So is this what your marriage proposal means, Mulder?" she went on. "Some bullshit attempt at having your cake and eat it too?" When she saw the look in his eyes - as if he were giving up on everything he held dear in his life - Scully's anger subsided and her features softened. She walked alongside him again and lovingly grasped his hand. "Look Mulder," she said finally. "I know you're doing this because you love me. And I love you too much to keep you from finding the truth." Mulder nodded slightly, so Scully went on. "But, I need the truth too, and I won't stand by idly waiting for you to find it. *I* need to be there too. I need to be there to help you nail their asses to the wall when the time comes." She said as she smiled for him. And eventually, Mulder returned it. "And if we ever do get married, Mulder," she said in a soothing voice, "I want it to be for the right reasons, don't you?" Mulder nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry, Scully," he said guiltily. "I really do want to be married with you...someday." To show that she forgave Mulder and his severely misguided attempt at chivalry, she planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "After what I've seen in my life Scully, I'm not afraid of anything, but I sure am scared of you," Mulder said with his patented lopsided grin. "No you're not, Mulder," she replied. "But you should be," she added. Scully leaned over and whispered into Mulder's ear, "I love you very much, Mulder. But you're not going to get rid of me that easily." She moved her face until she was gazing into the windows of his soul - Mulder's eyes were never good at hiding the inner turmoil or elation he felt, Scully thought to herself. She indeed saw in Mulder the confusion that she herself felt for her partner - wanting nothing more than to truly become one with him, while at the same time trying to hold him at arm's length to keep him away from the danger that seemed to follow the two of them wherever they journeyed. She recognized every feeling, every emotion she had ever experienced over Mulder being mirrored within the beautiful hazel orbs staring back at her. Scully touched her lips to his, giving him a tender, loving kiss, to show him she did understand. The kiss was also meant as a peace offering - an offer of a temporary cease-fire from this basic disagreement that was sure to come up again in the future. Mulder returned Scully's gesture. The battle was over...for now. And Scully again felt joy, knowing that Mulder was recovering and was safe. She straightened up and ran her warm palm over Mulder's stubbly cheek. "Get some rest Mulder," she whispered lovingly. Mulder turned his head and kissed the inside of her hand. He closed his eyes and grimaced slightly. Turning away and heading towards the door, she said, "I'll get someone in here to give you something for the pain." "Wait!" Mulder hissed through clenched teeth. She whirled around, concerned. "What is it, Mulder?" she breathed. "Are, are you leaving me?" he said in a childlike voice. Through the pain etched on his face, Scully could see the lost boy in Mulder, afraid of his mortality - the horror borne of the realization of how close he had come to being separated from the one he truly loved forever. <No. Never. She vowed. "No, Mulder," she spoke softly to him. "I'm just going home to get cleaned up. I'll be back later, okay?" With a slightly relieved grin, he replied, "I'll just pencil you in somewhere in my day-planner." And despite the contentious nature of their most recent argument, Scully found herself laughing at Mulder's pathetic, but still very endearing stab at humor. <That's my Mulder, she thought to herself. <Wouldn't have him any other way. Smiling at him sweetly, Scully turned to the door and let herself out. Staring at the closing door and already missing her, Mulder laid back down on the bed and gave in to the incredible pain. And still, he smiled. One month later... Fox Mulder's Apartment 9:15am he sounds of a key turning in a lock surprised Mulder. He was just leaving the kitchen with a cool glass of iced tea in his hand when the front door opened. "Oh!" came a startled exclamation from Scully. "I thought you'd still be sleeping," she explained. "Hi," she said as she quickly regained her composure and entered the apartment. She closed the door quietly behind her. "Hi, yourself," Mulder replied throatily for her. He put down the drink and then scooped her swiftly into his arms and gave her a slow, deep kiss. "Mmmm," he moaned into her mouth. Giggling softly, she extricated herself from Mulder's clutches. "Well, Mulder," she said coyly. "I guess you're doing better, huh?" he wondered. "Scully," he said to her in his most serious tone. "I'm practically bursting at the seams. You've got to help a guy out here!" Mulder gave her his best wounded puppy look. On any other day, that might have worked, Scully thought to herself, but... <Oh, who the hell are you kidding, Dana? she admitted. But she wouldn't let Mulder know that, she decided. Not yet. "After nearly six years of celibacy, Mulder, now you're anxious only after a month?" She tried to hold back the smile she felt creeping up on her. Mulder was now getting an inkling of what was transpiring. he said to himself. "Well, you did ask me if I wanted to become a sex addict once, Scully," he answered playfully. "I'm just going through withdrawal symptoms." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she too wanted Mulder very badly. <God, if only he knew how many times I've stood in the shower or been in my bed and touched... She blushed violently just thinking about it and she thought her heart would leap out of her chest. Feeling light-headed, she leaned into Mulder for support. "Scully?" Mulder said, with a look of concern on his face. "What's wrong?" When she looked down in embarrassment, he misunderstood. "I'm sorry, Scully. I know I shouldn't make light of it, what we have together is very special." He searched for words to make it right, but he knew he would just be sticking his foot further into his mouth. He shook his head in frustration. She looked up into his eyes. The ever-present pain was there again. Scully wished she could just wipe her hands over those tortured eyes and make all the hurt disappear. But she knew she never could. she realized. She reached up and cupped one cheek in her tiny palm. "You don't understand, Mulder. It's not you. I'm the one who has been weak," she explained. "You've been so good. You never complained before today, and here I am acting as if I never had a sexual impulse in my life." "Hey," he said with a smile. "It's not your fault, Scully. We both know I needed time to heal. You've been strong for me when I would have done something stupid." He reached down and held her hands in his. He squeezed them affectionately. Mulder decided it was time to change the subject. "Ever since I've been back on real food, I'm always hungry," he said to her with a wide grin on his face. "What do you say we fix ourselves some brunch and then take it slowly from there?" Scully returned the smile and reached up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "I love you, Mulder," she said to him. "Ah, well. You aren't really all that bad yourself, you know," came his reply. He looked down to check on her reaction. <That's the Scully I know and love, he thought to himself as she rolled her eyes at him - again. Laughing at her predictable reaction, Mulder bent over for another kiss. Murmuring into her mouth, he said, "I love you too, Scully." Pushing thoughts of alien invasions, mutants and government conspiracies aside, the two agents walked hand in hand into Mulder's kitchen. Their only concern for the moment centered around what they were going to eat for brunch. Thoughts of mortal danger and marriage would have to wait until later. For they were in love. And in the end, that was all that really mattered Beyond Words "The Way Towards Each Other" The way towards each other is through our bodies. Words are the longest distance you can travel so complex and hazardous you lose your direction. Time is no way either. A river mouth it opens to a mixing of waters, a tidal diffusion, never a consummation. In our bodies we are fallen in a thorn thicket. Out is a tearing apart, a letting of juices Inside though is a pathway, a tremulous compensation- the possibility of touching. ********* The thick smoke from the Morley's wafted across Diana Fowley's face. The smell made her nauseous and desirous at the same time. She'd quit smoking years ago - actually she and Mulder had quit together - but the craving never left. "Scully's a bigger problem than ever before," she said, exasperated. "That scheme your friends thought up to take her from Mulder has only strengthened his resolve. And his passion. What your boys are missing is a woman's intuition." "And what does your woman's intuition suggest?" he said intently, blowing out a stream of smoke. "I'm suggesting that your objective will be accomplished - not by taking Scully - but by leading him to give her up. Only then will he lose interest in the X-files. Only then will the work suffer." "And you have a plan?" "Have I let you down before? " MULDER'S OFFICE 3:30 P.M  "Mulder," he said, grabbing the phone from his desk. "Hi, Fox. It's Diana." "Diana . . . Hi. How are you?" Scully glanced up upon hearing Diana's name and forced herself to look down at the file in front of her. It had been months since she had recovered from a serious gun shot wound and much to Scully's relief, she had not heard her name mentioned often. "Um, I'll probably be working until at least 8:00 p.m. tonight," he said. "OK, sure. Yeah, 8:30's fine." Scully grabbed her still full coffee mug and headed out for a refill. Mulder watched her leave, a pensive look on his face. He'd sensed tension between Diana and Scully when they first met, though they'd never discussed it. He didn't think much of it at the time, because Diana was so clearly a part of his past and Scully, well, he didn't know where they stood right now, but she was clearly his present. An image of Scully standing in his hallway, wrinkled clothes and tousled hair, beautiful as always, her lips about to touch his, eyes half-closed in anticipation flashed before him. This image came so often lately; he knew they were both running from it. Outside the office, Scully shakily added unnecessary cream to her coffee. She sensed the first time she met Diana that there had been something between her and Mulder, something that Diana wanted to revive. The realization of the pain that she'd felt - sitting in the car, chest about the burst - stunned her. After that, she couldn't deny what she felt. For a moment, in his hallway, she'd believed he felt the same. The alternative - that the almost-kiss was a misguided attempt to make her stay at the Bureau - sickened her. But the thought persisted nevertheless.  CAFE CHARLES 9:30 P.M. The dinner with Diana hadn't been bad. In fact, Mulder had enjoyed reminiscing with her, catching up on the lives of old friends, and hearing stories about her work in the Middle East. Diana took a small sip of coffee. "Fox, I want you to know that I came back to D.C. for many reasons, both professional and personal." She paused to catch his gaze. "I've missed you, Fox. I know it's been a long time and many things have changed, but I'd . . . " "Diana," he interrupted in a gentle, yet firm voice, "I don't feel that way anymore." "It's Dana, isn't it?" "Scully? No, she has nothing to do with this." "But you two are involved, right?" "No, we're not and never have been. This is . . . " "But you'd like to be," she stated matter of factly. She'd rehearsed well and things were falling into place. "Listen, Fox. I know you and I know you're in love with her. Wait - just hear me out . . . as a friend. You and Dana have been partners for five years and if you haven't been romantically involved, it isn't because you don't want to be. It's because you know it shouldn't be." Diana watched as his face darkened, and she continued with a triumphant smile inside. "I know you, Fox. I know the paranoid, self-absorbed, sarcastic bastard you can be. And in many ways, I'm the same, so I can accept that about you. But Scully, she's different. And you know that, otherwise you would have had her long ago. You've obviously had her heart all these years. Has she ever dated anyone in the five years you've known her? Has she even given anyone else a chance? Tell me if I'm wrong, but I think you know that I'm right." Mulder felt sick. Why did women from his past always show up to manipulate him? Scully would never do that. She lived, spoke, and acted with an integrity that was almost tangible. No one who ever met her, ever looked into eyes, could doubt that. Diana is right, he thought. Scully will become like me. Already she smiles less, trusts less than she used to. She needs someone quicker to laugh, someone who surprises her with flowers, not tacky key chains on her birthday, someone who believes in the ordinary. Mulder's fear of reaching out to Scully had never been a fear of rejection, but of acceptance. That she might accept his heart and that it would inevitably hurt her. "Fox," Diana said softly, drawing him back from his thoughts. "The only way she will ever open herself up to another man is if you open yourself to another woman. And I want that chance with you." ONE MONTH LATER It had been a month since Diana and Mulder had started seeing each other. A month during which Scully had taken three sick days and a week of vacation. Avoidance excuses were running low. For five years, she'd been faithful to an unspoken contract between them. And now, in this one month, she'd felt her heart quietly crumpling. Each day she relinquished parts of him she'd never ever known she claimed. Mulder's errant lock of hair - not hers. His touch on her back - not for her. His crazy theories - not hers. His name for her, Scully, ceased to be a term of endearment and resumed its professional role. Mulder watched her slip away, the pain ironic in its familiarity. How many times had he fought for her to live? How many times had she for him? And now to sit passively and wait as she withdrew from his life brought a bitter smile to his face. Mulder awoke often in the night with terrible sweats, dreaming always the same dream. He was 12 again, playing with Samantha on the floor, then a bright light, a scream, she was being taken, but it wasn't her, it was Scully, screaming his name and all he could do was remain, frozen. SCULLY RESIDENCE  "Dana," Mrs. Scully said as she reached to embrace her daughter. Dana held on a moment longer than usual, causing Mrs. Scully to draw back and look into her troubled blue eyes. "Is something wrong?" "I'm fine, Mom. I just thought I would stop by." Mrs. Scully turned to let her pass, knowing that she would talk when she felt ready. Later, after dinner, sipping tea on the couch, Mrs. Scully turned the conversation towards what she suspected might have drawn her daughter home tonight. "How is Mulder?" Dana averted her eyes downward, suddenly fascinated with the designs on the cup. "He's fine," she said, clearing her throat. "Actually, he's doing really well. He's started seeing a woman," and before she could finish, the sobs began. Huge, heaving cries, from deep within, so rare from her. "Oh, Dana, honey," her mom said, putting her arms around her. She felt Dana's arms tighten around her back and she let her cry and cry and cry until there was nothing left but a few heaving breaths. "I feel so stupid," she gasped into her mother's neck. "I'm not in high school anymore." "No, you're not," her mother said, gazing into her face. "You are a woman, a strong one. And being in love is not stupid." Dana blew her nose and sat back, lightheaded and flushed from crying. "But I don't want to be in love with him." They sat quietly for a few minutes. "Mom, I think he's really happy. The woman he's with - she's intelligent and attractive and shares his passion for the paranormal and psychology. She doesn't make him work so hard to believe what he believes. And I do want him to be happy." She paused and Mrs. Scully saw the rational, I-can-handle-it, look cross Dana's face. "And you know, Mom, I've never really given anyone else a chance. Not since I met him," she said, and the tears began flowing again, gentler this time, and sadder. PARKING GARAGE 10:13 PM  "Is everything going to according to plan?" he asked. His voice always surprised her. It was clear and high-pitched, youthful almost, betraying no hint of his love affair with Morley's. "Better than expected, actually. Already their productivity is suffering. They haven't been out in the field in a month, and they spend little time together developing theories or pursuing new leads. I think an alien could fall from ceiling and Mulder would step over it without noticing," she smirked. "Skinner does show some concern . . ." "Don't worry about Skinner," he said. "Then we have no problem. I suspect Mulder is tiring of my company, but that's of no concern. Scully has a new man in the picture and after Mulder ditches me, he'll move on to others. It's only a matter of time now before the whole thing falls apart. For good." CASPERS BAR 11:00 P.M. Mulder swirled his drink, not even interested in being drunk. Nothing interested him anymore. He'd quietly broken things off with Diana. They'd never ever slept together. He couldn't bring himself to take the lie that far. He grabbed a taxi and headed home, then changed his mind and headed for Georgetown.  SCULLY'S APARTMENT 11:30 P.M. Scully changed into her favorite silk pajamas and soft robe, neither of any comfort tonight. She'd sent Brad home early as usual - this time for the last time. She couldn't rid herself of the numbness that invaded her body when he held her - not exactly a turn-on for either of them. She sat on the couch, too tired to play music, too awake to sleep, when she heard a knock. "Mulder," she said, opening the door, "are you drunk?" He winced at the words, at her assumption that inebriation might be the only reason he would stop by. "No, I'm not. I came by because, well, I broke up with Diana, and" "Mulder," she interrupted in a harsher tone than she'd intended, "If you're looking for sympathy, I'm sorry, but . . . " "No, no. That's not," he sputtered. Everything was coming out wrong. Words were failing them. Once, they spoke almost intuitively; now, their communication had disintegrated. His words and hers bounced off one another, deflected into odd places, morphed into misunderstandings. "I left her Scully, because it's hard to date someone when you're in love with someone else." She stopped breathing for a moment. Then turned. She wanted to speak, but couldn't. No words would form. And so they deserted the useless tools of words and sought out each other as their lips found each other for the first time. Gentle and desperate. Pressure yielding to softness, hardness. Heat engulfing them. Tongues entangled. Fingers reaching, pulling, stroking. Too greedy. Too hungry for anything but this. Sinking into the floor, into each other. Bringing each other to release, to wholeness. Later, things would matter. Things like government conspiracies, alien life, the FBI, misunderstandings, science, faith, and words. But not in this moment when all that meant anything was her red hair splayed against his arm. His arm around her waist. Her face resting close to his. Their eyes locked, her hand gently stroking his neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the small of her back. Their hot flesh cooling against each other. Their bodies speaking at last. BACK TO TOP OF PAGEff