*********************************************************************
  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
*********************************************************************

And We Remain (2/2)
by shannono
shannono@iname.com


Summary: Following the destruction of the X-files office, Mulder 
and Scully embark on an investigation into his family's history --
and the changing dynamics of their personal relationship.

All other information in Part 1/2


==========================
Chapter Seven: Restoration
==========================

Home of Rick and Samantha Carson
Gaithersburg, Maryland
Monday, May 25, 1998
11:07 a.m.

Mulder stood in the middle of the living room, devouring his
surroundings like a starving man. Furniture, pictures, mementos,
even the patterns of dust on the shelves were absorbed and filed
away in his memory, to be pulled out and perused at leisure for
the rest of his life.

He didn't see his partner walk in from the side and stop, just
watching him. His gaze traveled over her but didn't pause in its
travels.

He already had *her* memorized.

Scully knew what Mulder was doing. She'd seen him do the same
thing dozens of times, usually at a crime scene. Drinking in the
details, then letting his mind wander until it drifted into a
theory, or a profile.

But this time, it was different. He wasn't doing this to solve a
case.

He was trying to learn his sister again.

Slipping out silently, Scully went looking for Samantha. They'd
brought her home less than an hour before, and she'd been busy
changing clothes, straightening up, and generally trying not to
make it obvious to her family that the house had been empty for
three days.

Scully found her in the kitchen, pouring out a carton of spoiled
milk. Samantha looked up at the sound of footsteps, then offered
a tentative smile.

Scully returned the smile, stopping across the counter from
Samantha. "Samantha," she started, her gaze lowering to her hands
as she folded them on the countertop. "I don't want to interfere,
but I think it might do both you and Mulder some good if you could
spend some time together. I know he wants to know about you and
your family."

She looked back up to see Samantha nodding, her bottom lip caught
between her teeth. "I ... I know," Samantha said. "It's just ...
it's hard ..."

Following an impulse she didn't even try to question, Scully
reached out one hand and placed it over the other woman's where it
lay on the edge of the sink. "I know," she said softly. "It's hard
for Mulder, too. But I think ... it's what you need. What both of
you need."

Samantha looked at her, then nodded again, quickly. "Is he in the
living room?" she asked, her voice quavering.

Scully nodded, then gave a half-smile. "I think he's trying to
memorize it."

Samantha laughed a bit at the comment, and Scully felt a weight
lift off her shoulders at the sound.

Samantha reached for a dishcloth and wiped her hands. "I'll go
talk to him," she said, her voice stronger.

Scully remained in the kitchen, taking a look around herself.
Despite her anger at Mulder for not telling her when he saw his
sister, she couldn't help but be happy for him. For both of them.

Now, if she only knew what came next.

==========
Office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner
J. Edgar Hoover FBI building
11:29 a.m.

Skinner didn't even look up when the knock sounded on his inner
office door. "Come in," he barked, still reading through the
personnel file on his desk.

He'd driven back from Connecticut the night before, then delivered
Mrs. Mulder's blood sample to the lab first thing this morning.
His next meeting was right on time.

He did look up when the door opened, and in stepped Special Agent
Jeffery Spender. "You wanted to see me, sir?" the young man said.

Skinner leaned back. "Agent Spender, please, have a seat," he
said, gesturing to the chairs at the other side of his desk. When
Spender was seated, Skinner leaned forward again, planting his
elbows on the desktop and grasping the edges of the folder he'd
been reading.

"Agent Spender," he began. "I've been told you met with a man in
the parking garage at the psychiatric hospital in Gaithersburg
last week. Is that true?"

Spender shifted slightly in his chair. "I wouldn't call it a
'meeting,' sir. I was approached by a man in the garage, yes."

Skinner looked down at the file. "And did you recognize the man?"

"No, sir."

Skinner glared up at the young agent. "You're saying you have no
idea who the man is."

Spender shifted again. "No, sir," he replied. "I'm saying I didn't
recognize the man."

<No wonder this kid finished in the top ten of his law school
class,> Skinner thought. <Best dodge I've heard since the last
time Mulder was in here.>

Out loud, Skinner said, "Let me rephrase the question, Agent
Spender. Do you now, or have you ever, known the identity of the
man who approached you in the parking garage?"

Spender's gaze faltered a bit as he answered. "No, I do not know
his identity."

Skinner continued to stare at him. "Have you seen him anywhere
else?"

At this, Spender nodded. "Yes, sir, I have."

"Please describe the meeting to me, Agent Spender. In detail."

Spender spoke in a near monotone as he complied. "I saw him
Thursday night, in the hallway of the second floor, near the
elevators. I walked around the corner, and he was walking toward
me. I asked if I could help him, and he said no, but he could help
me. He said he had been watching me, that he had given me the
Gibson Praise case. When I asked why, he said ..." He paused, then
said, "He told me he was my father."

Skinner nodded slowly, still holding Spender's gaze. "Do you have
any brothers or sisters, Agent Spender?"

Spender looked confused at the sudden change of topic. "No, sir,
but I don't see what ..."

"Your parents are divorced, are they not?"

At this, Spender stiffened. "Assistant Director Skinner, I believe
you are aware of my mother's disappearance. It is not a topic I
enjoy discussing."

Skinner relaxed slightly, blowing out a breath. "I know that,
Spender," he said in a slightly softer tone. "But I need to verify
the information before continuing. Your parents were divorced,
correct?"

Spender hesitated, then nodded. "Yes," he said. "When I was ten."

Skinner nodded again. "Agent Spender, I would like to request that
you provide a blood sample for DNA matching."

Now Spender was completely lost. "Is there ... may I ask why,
sir?"

Skinner glanced down at the file, then back up, before answering.
"You may have a sister after all."

==========
Home of Rick and Samantha Carson
3:02 p.m.

Scully had gone home to allow Samantha and Mulder some time alone
together, and they were sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking
at photo albums, when they heard the sound of a car pulling into
the driveway. Samantha immediately jumped up to look out the
window, and when she turned back toward Mulder, her face was a
blend of happiness and apprehension.

"It's Rick and the kids," she said unnecessarily.

Mulder nodded, his eyes locked with hers as he stood. "Would
you ... do you want to talk to him alone first?" he asked.

Samantha hestitated, then shook her head. "I ... I think we'd
better just get it over with," she said.

They had no more time to talk about it before a key was turning
in the lock and Samantha's husband stepped in. He was an inch or
so taller than Mulder, more thickly built but still slender, with
an olive complexion. His hair was jet black, with just a few gray
hairs beginning to appear at the temples, and his eyes were a deep
brown.

He was already speaking as he came in, his voice deep and rich.
"Honey?" he said. "Do we have company?"

Then he caught sight of his wife, and the man standing in the
center of the living room, and he froze. "What's going on here?"
he said.

Samantha was at his side in an instant. "Rick," she said,
realizing she had to explain fast, before her husband got the
wrong idea. "This is my brother, Fox."

Rick stared at her, then turned his gaze slowly to the other man.
"Your *brother*?" he asked, his tone a bit harsh. "I thought your
brother was dead."

Mulder felt compelled to speak. "She thought I was dead, too," he
said. "But I'm not."

No one moved for a few seconds, until Samantha reached for Rick's
hand. "Let me get the kids in and settled upstairs, honey, and
we'll sit down and talk," she said.

Before he could answer, the two kids in question flew in the door.
"Mom!" the girl yelled, throwing herself into her arms. She looked
about seven or eight, Mulder guessed.

The boy, apparently a few years older, stopped behind his sister
as he saw the strange man in the living room. "Who are you?" he
asked suspiciously.

Rick turned to look down at his son, but Samantha spoke first.
"He's an old friend, Jimmy," she said, releasing her daughter and
standing back up. "Your dad and I need to talk to him for a few
minutes. Why don't you and Leah go up to your rooms for a while,
and we'll come get you when we're done."

Jimmy was still staring at Mulder, until his father spoke to him.
"Yeah, you two head upstairs. We'll unload the car in a while."

The children looked at their parents, then nodded solemnly and
started up the stairs, glancing back down several times.

Samantha watched them go, then turned back to her husband, who was
again staring at Mulder. "Let's sit down, shall we?" Samantha
said, tilting her head toward the living room before moving in
that direction.

Mulder sat back down on the sofa, perching on the edge of the
cushions, his entire body rigid with tension. Rick similarly sat
in one of the side chairs, and Samantha was just about to join
them when a knock sounded on the door.

Glancing at the two men, she returned to the door and looked out,
then opened the door to reveal Scully. "Agent Scully," Samantha
said. "Please, come in."

Scully could feel the tension in the air and needed just a moment
to discover the source. A man she didn't recognize sat in one of
the living room chairs, eyeing her partner warily. Before she
could ask, though, Samantha saved her the trouble.

"Agent Scully, this is my husband, Rick Carson," she said, then
gestured toward the men. "We were about to fill him in on what's
been happening."

Scully nodded. "I can come back later," she said.

"No," Samantha interrupted. "Please, come join us."

Scully hesitated, then nodded again and moved to the sofa. Mulder
caught her eye as she walked, flicking his gaze once to the sofa
next to him. She got the message and sat there, just to his left. 

Samantha sat in a chair across from them but turned to her
husband. "Honey, I thought Fox was dead, too," she said. "But he's
not. He'd been looking for me for a long time. I think the man who
raised me lied to me about him. About a lot of things."

Rick looked at Mulder as he spoke. "And how do you know this guy's
not lying?" he demanded.

"I just know," Samantha answered, searching her husband's face.

Rick's eyes, still on Mulder, narrowed. "Can you prove you're who
you say you are?" he asked harshly.

Before Mulder could answer, Scully intervened. "Mr. Carson," she
said. "Mulder and I are FBI agents. You're more than welcome to
check our identities with the Bureau. They will confirm both who
he is, and that he's been looking for Samantha for years." She
paused, then continued. "But I'm afraid that will have to wait."
She turned her attention to Samantha. "Samantha, we said yesterday
that you could be in danger here. I spoke to Assistant Director
Skinner on my way over here, and he's found a safe house for you
and your family. It's just for a few days, until things have
settled down a bit."

"No way," Rick said, rising to his feet. "I'm just in the door
after been gone for the weekend, and you drop this crazy story on
me. And now you expect me to pick up and *leave* my house?"

"Honey," Samantha jumped up and grabbed his hand. "Please, Rick,
I think Agent Scully is right. We have to think about the kids."

Then Mulder spoke for the first time, so softly the others had to
strain to hear him. "She's my sister. I've spent twenty-five years
looking for her. And I don't want to lose her again."

He locked gazes with Rick, and the two men faced off silently for
a full fifteen seconds before Rick looked away. His shoulders
lowered slightly as some of the tension flowed out of him, and
then he nodded slightly. "Okay," he agreed, looking at Samantha.
"If you think we really need to."

Samantha nodded. "I do, Rick," she whispered. "We have to be
sure."

Rick looked at her a few more moments, then blew out a breath and
turned toward Scully. "When do we have to leave?" he asked.

"As soon as possible," she replied. "Mulder and I will be glad to
help you pack what you need. The house is about an hour away."

Rick nodded slowly. "I'll get the car unloaded," he said, then
squeezed Samantha's hand briefly before heading out the front
door.

Samantha turned to Scully. "I'll get started packing," she said.
"I think we can get what we need together fairly quickly. What do
we need to bring besides clothes?"

"Any personal items, special foods or medicines, toys for the
kids," Scully replied. "Towels and linens, and basic food, are
provided."

Samantha nodded, then turned back to Mulder. "Fox," she said
softly. "Could you help Rick get the camping gear unloaded?"

Mulder shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I ... I don't think
he'd want ..."

"He'll be fine, Fox," Samantha said reassuringly. "It's an
adjustment, but he's a good man. I think the two of you just need
to talk."

Mulder gazed at her, then nodded and rose. "I'll give it a try,"
he said, shooting his sister a wry half-smile.

"Thank you, Fox," she said, reaching to touch his arm as he moved
past her toward the door.

Scully glanced at Samantha. "Could you excuse me for a second?"
she said, rising to follow Mulder. She caught up with him just
outside the door. "Mulder," she said, and he turned to face her,
a questioning look on his face. She glanced down, then back up at
him. "I wanted to tell you what else Skinner said when I talked to
him. He talked to Spender, and he's agreed to give Danny a blood
sample." She paused, then said, "Skinner also said Spender told
him he saw 'Smoking Man' again after the time you saw them
together. He said he told Spender he was his father."

Mulder's eyes were intense on her as he bent his head close to
hers. His face was a kaleidoscope of emotions. "If Spender *is*
Samantha's half-brother," he said, "do you think ..."

"He'd be willing to help us?" Scully finished.

"Yes," Mulder said, hope warring with anger in his eyes.

Scully nodded. "I think so," she said. "You and he didn't get off
on the right foot, but I think he'll do the right thing."

Mulder sighed as he straightened. "I hope so," he said, his gaze
drifting off to an indiscriminate point in midair.

Scully watched him think for a moment, then said, "Well, I'm
going to go in and see if Samantha needs any help."

Mulder glanced back at her, then nodded. "And I need to go help
Rick," he said, his reluctance obvious in his tense stance.

Scully lifted an eyebrow. "He's not the enemy, Mulder," she said.
"Relax."

Mulder let out a short bark of laughter. "Easier said than done,
Agent Scully," he said, flashing her a half-grin before heading
down the steps toward the minivan in the driveway.

==========
4:33 p.m.

Mulder and Rick were coming down the stairs with the last load of
suitcases when Scully and Samantha emerged from the kitchen, each
carrying a bag of groceries and other items. The women paused as
the kids came into sight, their feet clattering down the stairs
as their excited voices filled the room.

"This is cool!" Jimmy exclaimed as he jumped over the last step
and landed in a karate-like pose near the door. "So you're really
an FBI agent?"

Mulder grinned down at the youngster, who'd latched himself onto
his uncle as soon as they'd been "officially" introduced an hour
before. "Yeah, I am," he said, bending over to put himself at eye-
level with Jimmy. "And it's a lot of hard work, you know. But it
is fun."

Scully watched silently, captured by the caring and love so openly
displayed on her partner's face as he looked at the nephew he
never knew he had.

Just then, Leah, still standing on the second step, looked across
the room and spied Scully. "Are you an FBI agent, too?" she asked,
a note of wonder in her voice.

Mulder glanced up at his niece and answered before Scully had the
chance. "She sure is," he said, "And one of the best."

Scully was dumbfounded by his words, and by the note of what she
could only describe as pride in his voice. She stared at him as
he swiveled his head to look at her, and she saw the same look
he'd just directed at his nephew.

Caring. And love.


=====================
Chapter Eight: Truths
=====================

Home of Teena Mulder
Greenwich, Connecticut
Tuesday, May 26, 1998
9:45 a.m.

"I can't stand this any more. I've got to get down there!"

Mrs. Scully smiled at the woman who was pacing up and down the
length of the small living room. Teena Mulder was anxious, ready
to go to Washington and see the daughter she hadn't seen in 25
years.

"Teena," Mrs. Scully said gently. "I know you want to go, but ..."

"I feel fine, Maggie," Mrs. Mulder insisted, pausing in her
travels to look down at the other woman, a pleading look in her
eyes. "I just want to see Samantha."

Mrs. Scully paused, then nodded. "If you promise to take it easy,"
she said, a note of teasing in her tone.

Mrs. Mulder smiled her relief. "I will," she said.

==========
Offices of the Lone Gunmen
10:22 a.m.

Scully leaned down over Byers' shoulder, squinting a bit to see
the display on the computer monitor more clearly. "So that's what
was in my blood," she mused.

Byers seemed a bit uncomfortable at her scrutiny but nodded.
"Yes, or close to it," he replied. "This --" he indicated a
linked line of hexagons on the screen -- "is the branched DNA.
Inactive, apparently a by-product of the testing process. It's
now serving as a poison to the system."

"Or it was," Langly chimed in from where he sat at one end of the
desk, elbows propped on the surface and forearms crossed. "That's
the big difference between what we found in Samantha's blood and
what was in yours. She has antibodies." He stretched one hand
across to touch the screen, indicating the long strands in the
display showing the antibodies.

Scully glanced at the blond Gunman briefly before turning her
attention back to the screen. "Okay," she said. "But you said
there was something else?"

"Yes," Frohike piped up, swiveling his chair around where he sat
at another computer a few feet away. "If you'll step over here,
Agent Scully?"

She hesitated only a moment before moving to stand next to
Frohike's chair. He tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back a grin
as he pointed to the screen. "This shows the results of similar
testing on Mulder's blood. Apparently, he has the same
antibodies, or very similar ones."

Scully's eyes widened as she bent closer to the screen. "What?"
she said.

Frohike slapped a few keys, and the screen split to show side-
by-side depictions of the two blood tests. "Here's Samantha's
test," he said, poking a finger at the display on the left, "and
that's Mulder's." He hit another few keys, and the two displays
zoomed in closer.

He didn't speak again, just leaned back and looked up at Scully,
who was transfixed by what she saw on the screen. Nearly identical
strands of antibodies -- antibodies for something she felt sure
Mulder had never been exposed to.

Unless ...

"Could Mulder's antibodies be a result of his exposure to the
unidentified toxins?" Scully asked.

Frohike glanced up at her again. "It's possible," he said, half-
shrugging. "If both the branched DNA and the toxin he was
exposed to are the result of genetic experimentation ... well,
it's possible."

Scully looked back over her shoulder toward Byers and Langly,
who were watching her reaction intently. "So what's your theory?"
she asked.

Byers shrugged. "An inoculation of some kind, perhaps. But we
think it's more likely some kind of natural immune response.
Their bodies are more able to fight off the toxins."

Scully chewed her bottom lip as she straightened, thinking. "So
Mulder and Samantha have this immunity because they're related,"
she said, an idea swimming through her mind but refusing to
surface completely.

"Could be," Frohike said. "It would be something very rare, at
any rate. We'd need to do more testing to be sure."

Scully's eyes focused on Byers. "I'd like to bring you another
blood sample," she said. "We have a sample from Mulder's mother.
If she has a similar immunity, that could settle the question."

Byers nodded, then paused. "But Mulder's father ..."

"Is dead," Scully finished. "But we have reason to believe that
Mulder's father is not Samantha's father."

The Gunmen exchanged glances before looking back at Scully. "Who
is Samantha's father?" Langly finally asked.

Scully scanned the three faces before responding. "We're not
sure," she said. "But she may have another half-brother."

Stunned silence greeted this announcement, and Scully suppressed
a smile. "I may be bringing you another sample for testing as
well," she said. "Thanks for everything, guys."

Frohike recovered first. "Oh, it's always our pleasure, Agent
Scully," he said, leaping from his seat to escort her to the
door. "Please, come by any time."

In the background, Scully could see the half-grins of amusement
on the faces of Byers and Langly at Frohike's open adoration. She
managed to smile sweetly at all three as she left.

And she made it to the car before she laughed.

==========
Safe house
Somewhere in Northern Virginia
10:27 a.m.

Mulder had just pulled into the driveway of the house when his
cell phone trilled in his pocket. Yanking it out, he started to
climb from the car as he answered, "Mulder."

"Fox," came the voice of his partner's mother. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Scully," he said, a note of surprise mixed with
concern in his voice. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all," Mrs. Scully rushed to reassure him. "I'm
just calling to tell you your mother and I will be leaving in
about a half-hour to come to Washington."

Mulder stopped in his tracks, halfway to the house's front door.
"Already?" he asked. "Is Mom going to be okay to travel that
soon?"

Mrs. Scully chuckled. "I had the same reaction, Fox," she said.
"But she really seems to be fine, just anxious to see Samantha.
And you."

Mulder huffed out a breath and planted his free hand on his hip.
"Samantha, I can understand. But me ..." His voice trailed off.

Mrs. Scully's voice was soft. "She's your mother, Fox," she said.
"You and she may not have had the best relationship, but she's
still your mother."

Mulder felt tears pricking his eyes and drew in a steadying
breath. Those Scully women can always get to me, he thought.
Out loud, he said, "Thanks, Mrs. Scully. Is someone there to
drive you down?"

"Yes, I've already spoken to Mr. Skinner," Mrs. Scully replied.
"One of the agents who's been guarding the house will be
driving for us. Mr. Skinner will meet us at my house and bring
us to the safe house himself."

Mulder realized he was still standing in the middle of the yard
and resumed his movement toward the house. "I'm at the safe
house now, so I'll tell Samantha," he said.

"That's wonderful, Fox," came the reply. "I'll see you this
afternoon."

"'Bye, Mrs. Scully," Mulder said, before shutting the phone off
and raising his free hand to knock on the door.

==========
Office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner
J. Edgar Hoover FBI building
11:22 a.m.

Scully walked into Skinner's outer office and smiled at his
assistant, Kimberly, who immediately nodded toward the door.
"He's waiting for you," Kimberly said.

"Thanks," Scully answered, stopping to rap her knuckles lightly
on the door.

"Come in," Skinner called, and Scully opened the door to step in.
The first thing she saw, however, was not the AD but Jeffery
Spender, standing in front of Skinner's desk.

Scully paused momentarily at the sight, then continued into the
room, closing the door behind her. "Sir," she said, nodding at
Skinner, then turned toward Spender. "Agent Spender," she said
formally.

Skinner waved a hand toward the other agent. "Before we go any
further, Agent Scully," he said. "I believe Agent Spender has
something he'd like to say."

Scully raised an eyebrow as she looked at Spender, and she could
have sworn he blushed as he looked down as his feet. But when he
raised his head back to meet her gaze, he was nothing but
professional.

"Agent Scully," he began. "Assistant Director Skinner and I have
been talking, and I believe I owe you an apology. I have let rumor
and hearsay shape my opinion of both you and your partner, rather
than drawing my own conclusions. I have been inexcusably hostile
to both of you, and most particularly to Agent Mulder. I hope that
you can forgive me."

Scully held his gaze unwaveringly. "Thank you, Agent Spender, I
appreciate your honesty," she said. "However, I believe you owe
the apology not to me but to Agent Mulder. You have condemned him
solely on the basis of his admittedly unorthodox beliefs, when you
should have been learning to respect his investigative abilities."

Spender nodded. "You're right," he said. "I should have realized
that from the beginning, but especially after his comments during
our briefing on the Gibson Praise case. You recall that, after
reviewing the tapes, I agreed with Agent Mulder's theory of
precognitive awareness."

Scully didn't flinch. "Yes, you did," she said, a hint of
challenge creeping into her voice. "But did you tell *him* that?"

Spender looked away from her hard gaze, then back. "No," he
admitted. "But I should have."

At this, Skinner interrupted. "All right, the rest of the
apologies can wait," he said. "Take a seat, agents." As they moved
to comply and he sat down himself, he continued, "I'd like to
discuss the specifics of this case with both of you."

Scully glanced at the AD as she sat. "Sir?" she asked.

Skinner planted his elbows on the desk and folded his hands.
Leaning forward, he said, "Agent Scully, I'm sure you understand
that Agent Mulder's personal involvement in this case precludes
his direct involvement in the investigation," he said.

"Yes, sir, but ..." Scully started.

"Be that as it may," Skinner went on, holding up one hand. "I
realize the importance of this case and will therefore allow Agent
Mulder some degree of involvement. However, the two of you are
being assigned assistance. In the form of Agent Spender."

Scully sat back in her chair. "Sir, I ..."

Skinner shot her a glare. "Are you refusing an assignment, Agent
Scully?" he demanded. "If so, I'll be glad to turn this case over
to someone else."

Scully glanced down at her lap, then back up. "No, sir," she
replied.

Skinner nodded briskly. "Good," he said. "Now, I believe we have
a meeting to set up." He began to rise from his seat.

Scully and Spender looked at each other, then at him, puzzled.
"Sir?" Scully repeated.

Skinner turned back toward her, and shot her another almost-grin.
"Your mother and Mrs. Mulder are on their way home."

==========
Safe house
Somewhere in Northern Virginia
2:17 p.m.

As the car pulled up in front of the house, Mrs. Scully felt Mrs.
Mulder grab for her hand. The two women were riding in the back
seat of Skinner's car, with Scully riding in front.

Mrs. Scully glanced at Mrs. Mulder and was concerned at the blind
fear she saw in the other woman's eyes. "Teena, are you all right?"
she asked, leaning toward her.

Mrs. Mulder squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, in an
expression so like Mulder that it was all Mrs. Scully could do
not to laugh out loud. Softly, Mrs. Mulder said, "I don't know
if I can do this right now."

Mrs. Scully slid a hand to Mrs. Mulder's shoulder and then glanced
over the front seat at Skinner and Scully. "Why don't you two go
ahead," she said. "We'll be on in a few minutes."

"Okay, Mom," Scully said, shooting a glance at her boss. The two
climbed from the car and started up the walkway toward the house.

Mrs. Scully turned back to Mrs. Mulder as the others left. "Teena,"
she said gently. "It's going to be fine, really. It may be hard at
first, but she's your daughter. It will work out okay."

Mrs. Mulder shook her head sharply, her breath ragged. "I can't,
I can't," she moaned. "I can't do this alone."

Mrs. Scully bent her head down so her new friend could see her
smile. "You're not doing it alone," she said. "I'll be right
there."

Mrs. Mulder's head jerked up and the women's eyes met. Slowly,
Mrs. Mulder relaxed a bit, and she managed to nod.

==========
Inside, Mulder greeted Scully and Skinner in the foyer and Scully
quickly explained the situation. Mulder looked out and saw the two
women huddled together in the back seat of the car, his residual
anger toward his mother warring with his regret over their
difficult relationship.

Then he felt a small hand close over his. "Why don't you talk to
her first," Scully whispered.

He looked down into clear blue-green eyes, and wondered for the
millionth time where he'd be without his partner. Smiling softly,
he shrugged and said, "It's worth a shot."

She squeezed his hand and moved away to allow him through the
front door. He headed across the lawn slowly, coming to a halt a
few feet from the car as the women emerged.

Mrs. Scully looked up first, and a smile spread across her face.
"Fox," she said warmly, reaching out to squeeze the same hand her
daughter had just released.

"Mrs. Scully," Mulder said, giving her a small smile before
turning toward his mother. Taking a deep breath, he met her eyes.
"Mom," he said.

Mrs. Mulder looked up at her son, her eyes still red from crying,
and managed a small, wavering smile. "Fox," she whispered.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Mulder had engulfed his
mother in a hug and was whispering to her. "It's her, Mom, it's
really her this time," he murmured, and he felt her tears begin
anew against his shoulder.

Gently pulling away, he bent to look at her as she wiped the
moisture from her eyes. Taking her hand, he said, "Let's go see
Samantha."

==========
2:58 p.m.

Jeffery Spender pulled up to the safe house in his FBI-issue
sedan, a bit apprehensive about entering the home. He'd been told
of the possibility that Samantha Mulder could be his sister, but
he wasn't sure he was ready to face her quite yet.

Still, he had his orders from Skinner, and he didn't really want
to face the AD if he didn't show up by three, when he was supposed
to arrive.

He considered as he walked toward the house. Skinner had decided
to allow Mrs. Mulder time to reunite with Samantha before throwing
Spender into the mix. So Spender had spent the past few hours
going through his own records, searching for information on his
family's background.

He hadn't found out anything he didn't already know. His birth
certificate listed his parents as John and Cassandra Spender,
married May 1966, divorced September 1978. His mother had spent
much of the next 19 years in and out of mental hospitals,
predicated mainly on her insistence that she'd been abducted
repeatedly, until her disappearance in March. He'd been raised
mainly by her parents. There was no mention of any brother or
sister.

Now, he paused at the front door of the safe house before knocking.
A sound came from inside, and the door was opened to reveal his
boss.

"Right on time, Agent Spender," Skinner said, stepping back so the
agent could come in. Another man stood behind the AD, and Spender
guessed this was Rick, Samantha's husband.

He turned to his right and saw Mrs. Scully and her daughter
standing a few feet from the door, watching the scene in the
living room. Spender looked past them and saw Mulder sitting far
forward on a chair, his attention riveted on the two women sitting
close together on the sofa across from him. One, white-haired and
teary-eyed, was facing toward the door and glanced up as Spender
came into her line of vision.

Mulder saw her reaction and also looked up, pinning Spender with
his eyes. Before he could speak, however, Samantha turned to see
what they were looking at, and all the breath ran out of Spender's
lungs.

"Sam?" he breathed.

She nodded, her tears beginning again, and rose to face him. He
walked toward her, his eyes never leaving her face, and he stopped
just inches from her. "Sam?" he repeated, an almost childlike
wonder invading his voice.

"It's me, Jeff," she said.

And then he was crushing her to him, hugging her tight and
murmuring her name over and over. Scully saw the look of rage
flash in Mulder's eyes and hurried to his side, taking his hand
in hers again and whispering to him, trying to calm him down.

After a few moments, Spender pulled back, glancing over Samantha's
shoulder at an angry Mulder and realizing he was stepping on
toes. "I'm sorry," he said, releasing his hold on Samantha, then
looking back at her. "I just couldn't believe it ... I thought it
was a dream. I had ... " He glanced again at Mulder. "I had
forgotten all about that summer," he said, directing his
explanation to the other agent. "Until I saw Sam again ..." He
looked back at her. "And now I remember."

Silence took over for a few long moments, until Samantha glanced
over her shoulder at her mother, who had also risen to her feet.
"Mom," she said, her voice quavering. "Mom, this is Jeffery
Spender."

"Spender?" Rick cut in from his position across the room, and
all heads swiveled to face him. "The other brother?

"Half-brother, actually," Samantha replied.

Before she could say more, though, Mrs. Mulder sat down, hard.
Everyone turned their attention back to her, and Samantha took a
step toward her. "Mom? Are you okay?" she said.

Mrs. Mulder immediately raised a hand and waved her off. "I'm
fine, I'm fine," she said, then raised her head and slowly moved
her gaze across the somewhat shell-shocked faces that surrounded
her. "But I think it's time to tell you all what I remember."


=====================
Chapter Nine: History 
=====================

Safe house
Somewhere in Northern Virginia
Tuesday, May 26, 1998
4:02 p.m.

"I met Bill in the fall of 1956, at a party on the Vineyard. The
hosts were old friends of my family, and I had just arrived back
in the States following my Grand Tour of Europe. Bill approached
me and asked me to dance. He was gracious and charming, and I
liked him immediately.

"We didn't begin dating right away. I actually worked part-time as
a secretary for about six months -- against my father's wishes; he
felt working was beneath me. But it was important to me, so he
reluctantly agreed.

"About six months after that first party, Bill called and asked me
to a dinner some colleagues of his were giving. We began dating
then, and he asked me to marry him about a year later.

"It was just six months after the wedding that Bill told me
everything -- or, at least, everything he knew at the time. I
truly don't remember all the details; some were just too
complicated, and some have just been lost over the years. But he
said we were part of a special genetic testing program that had
been going on for years. I knew he worked for the State
Department, but what I didn't know until then was that he was
working on that specific program.

"He said that, as a result of the genetic testing we had
undergone, he was asked to approach and court me, with the intent
of marrying me and having children. I was furious, of course, but
he told me repeatedly that he hadn't planned on going through with
it, until he actually met me. That's why it took so long for him
to call and ask me for a date, he said -- he didn't want us to be
subjected to the program, but he had fallen for me and didn't want
to go on without me.

"He said he thought he could avoid the program by refusing to
undergo any further testing. We agreed on that course of action
and went on with our lives.

"We were delighted when we learned I was expecting a child. We
kept the news a secret as long as possible, and Bill didn't make
any announcements at work until after Fox was born. There seemed
to be no reaction, and we relaxed.

"But Fox was a precocious child. He was walking at eight months,
talking at eleven, and started reading when he was barely two. We
were astonished but happy, and began considering having another
child.

"That's when the trouble started. Bill was called in by the
coordinators of the program and told that he had done well, but
that for the purposes of the experiment he must allow another man
to father my next child.

"Bill was outraged, of course. But the men persisted, finally
going so far as to threaten to take Fox away if we didn't agree.

"We were trapped, and we finally had to agree. I underwent a very
early form of artificial insemination -- twice, actually -- and
became pregnant again in early 1965.

"Samantha was less of a prodigy outwardly as Fox, but her blood
tests showed some unusual results. She had higher immune response
than usual -- actually, so did Fox, but Samantha's was much more
pronounced. Both were rarely sick and very fast healers. Samantha's
broken collarbone took less than half the normal time to heal.

"But Bill and I had an underlying fear of what might be over the
horizon, and we were right. When Samantha was six -- just after
the collarbone healed, actually -- Bill was called in again with
the same demands. This time, though, he flatly refused. We both
did.

"The threats started again, but we stood firm. We never really
believed it would come to that.

"But it did.

"Bill was given a choice: give up Fox or Samantha, or allow the
pregnancy. He refused, again, but the men persisted. He didn't
tell me about this; he never said, but I think he was trying to
protect me.

"That's when Bill started to drink, and I didn't know what to do
about it. He was drunk the night he asked me if I had a favorite
between my two children, and I told him I could never choose one.

"I don't know if Bill chose, or if the project coordinators did.
But when Samantha disappeared, I realized our folly in refusing
those men. I was ready to give in to get my daughter back, but by
then our marriage was falling apart.

"I knew what was happening, but I just couldn't deal with it.
Bill's drinking was getting worse, and he started to take his
anger out on me, and on Fox. He never hit me, and I was so blinded
by my own pain that I didn't know for months that he was beating
Fox. When I finally realized it, I had a nervous breakdown, and I
was in the hospital for nearly a month. By the time I got out,
Bill had moved out, and we divorced a year later.

"I barely functioned for a long time after that, and I know now it
was hard on you, Fox. I simply didn't understand, I was so wrapped
up in myself.

"After Fox went to college, I saw a psychiatrist for about a year,
but that only helped me learn to hide from my memories and bury my
emotions. It did more harm than good. When you came to me, Fox,
and asked if I ever had to choose ... it brought all those
repressed feelings back up, and by then I couldn't face them.

"So I shut you out. It was all I could think of to do.

"I wasn't lying when I told you I couldn't remember everything.
But I didn't tell you what I did remember, and I should have. I
lost some of those memories to my stroke. I can't remember who the
men were, the ones who came to the house and threatened to take
our children if we didn't cooperate. I don't remember what they
looked like, and I can't remember any names.

"The only help I can offer is that I may still have a journal from
when you were a baby, Fox. I don't remember where I put it -- I'm
not even sure I kept it -- and I don't remember what I wrote in
it. But I did have one, and it may answer some of your questions.

"I'm so sorry, Fox, for everything. I don't expect you to forgive
me, but I hope I can at least help you find your answers."
 
==========

The room was quiet for a long time after Mrs. Mulder finished
speaking, seven pairs of eyes trained on her tear-stained face.

Behind those eyes, though, minds were racing. All were stunned by
the revelations, Mulder wondering immediately where to look for
the journal. No one spoke as Samantha comforted her mother, the
two crying together. Mrs. Scully had moved up behind the sofa as
Mrs. Mulder spoke and laid a hand on the other woman's shoulder,
silently offering the support she'd promised.

Finally, to everyone's surprise, it was Spender who broke the
silence. "So ... you think the man who fathered Samantha may have
fathered me with my mother, as part of the same ... project?" he
asked, his eyes moving between Mulder and Scully where they sat
close together, across the room from him.

Scully eyed him coolly. "It would certainly help explain your
mother's disappearance," she said evenly.

Spender nodded slowly, then turned toward Skinner. "Sir," he said.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to go to my mother's house and go
through some of her things. I might find something to help shed
more light on the subject."

Skinner jerked his chin down once in agreement. "Be in my office
at ten tomorrow morning," he said sharply.

"Yes, sir," Spender said, before turning back to the group in the
living room. "I'll see you all tomorrow." He turned and headed out
the door.

From the corner of her eye, Scully saw the muscles along Mulder's
jaw twitch. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm again, and
when he looked at her, she murmured, "It's a lot for him to take
in, Mulder." She paused, then glanced at his mother. "It's a lot
for all of us to take in."

She felt the muscles in Mulder's forearm relax as he spoke,
softly. "Yeah, it is," he agreed, his gaze back on his sister and
his mother.

Another few moments passed, and Samantha and her mother slowly
pulled apart, wiping their eyes. Samantha smiled shakily at her
mother, then glanced across the room at her husband. "Rick, could
you get Mom's bag and take it up to the extra bedroom?" she said.
"I think she'd like to rest for a while."

"Sure," Rick said, pushing away from the wall where he was leaning
and turning toward Skinner. "I believe it's in your car, Mr.
Skinner?" he asked.

Skinner nodded again. "I'll go with you," he said, and the two
men slipped out the door.

Samantha slowly rose, offering Mrs. Mulder an arm to help her up.
Mulder immediately jumped up, taking her other arm, and the two
helped their mother up the stairs.

Scully rose as well, stepping over to her mother, who reached to
squeeze her daughter's hand. "Are you okay, honey?" Mrs. Scully
asked.

"I'm fine, Mom," Scully replied automatically, still watching the
group moving up the stairs. But her mind was far away, still
considering all the implications of Mrs. Mulder's story.

Mrs. Scully studied her daughter's face for a moment, then smiled
softly. "It'll be okay, Dana," she said, reaching up to brush back
a lock of hair.

Scully looked down at her mother and smiled. "I know, Mom," she
answered.

Rick and Skinner came in then, and Rick headed up the stairs with
Mrs. Mulder's bag as Skinner faced Scully. "Agent Scully, I'm
going to head back into town," he said. "Do you or your mother
need a ride home?"

Scully shook her head. "I need to talk to Mulder first, sir," she
answered, then looked at her mother. "Mom, are you ready to go?"

"But I don't want to put you out, Mr. Skinner," Mrs. Scully said,
glancing up at the AD.

Skinner shook his head. "It's no trouble, Mrs. Scully. I'm ready
whenever you are."

Mrs. Scully nodded, then reached to retrieve her purse from a
table near the front door. Turning back to her daughter, she
opened her arms and pulled her into a hug. "Take care, Dana," she
whispered. "Of yourself, and Fox, too."

"I will, Mom," Scully answered.

They pulled apart, and Mrs. Scully turned to the door. "I'm
ready," she told Skinner, and he escorted her out.

Scully sighed once, deeply, then wandered back over to the sofa to
wait for Mulder. She'd been going over and over parts of Mrs.
Mulder's speech, but she kept coming back to one thing -- the
apparent heightened immune response both Mulder and Samantha had
shown as children. That was right in line with what she'd learned
from the Gunmen, and she now wondered if that could have been the
main purpose behind the "genetic testing program" the Mulders had
been a part of.

She was brought out of her reverie when Mulder descended the
stairs. His eyes found her almost immediately, and he crossed the
room to flop onto the end of couch to her right, his left arm
stretched across the back of the cushions and his gaze intent on
her face.

She dropped her eyes from his, focusing instead on her hands where
they lay folded in her lap, and cleared her throat, a bit
uncertain about what to say. Mulder saved her the trouble.

"Wow," he said, and she glanced up to see one corner of his mouth
lifted.

She returned the expression, adding a raised eyebrow. "A bit of an
understatement, don't you think?" she countered.

Mulder chuckled softly, running one hand through his hair. "Not
exactly what I expected my mother to be saying," he said, still
staring at her. "She answered quite a few questions, but I think
she raised as many as she answered."

Scully nodded her agreement. "So I assume you want to look for the
journal?" she asked.

He looked off into the air, nodding slightly as he chewed the
inside of his cheek. "I guess Mom's house is a good place to
start," he mused. "She's got a bunch of old chests and such up in
the attic."

"So when do we leave?" Scully asked.

She saw his muscles tense as he turned back to her, his face
blank except for the warmth in his eyes. "You don't have to go,
Scully," he said, his voice carefully neutral.

She read his meaning perfectly. He wanted her to go, but he was
afraid she wouldn't. So she simply nodded. "I know," she said.
"But I want to."

He held her gaze, then relaxed and offered another half-smile.
"Then tomorrow morning," he said. "The sooner the better."

Scully nodded again. "As long as you promise to go home and get
some sleep tonight," she said, her tone a little teasing.

His smile widened. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Then he turned serious
and leaned closer to her, his eyes capturing hers as his left hand
dropped to brush against her shoulder. "Scully, I really am sorry
I didn't tell you sooner about seeing Sam," he said softly. "You
were right; I should have told you."

Scully shook her head. "It's okay, Mulder, I forgive you," she
said with a small smile. "I'm just so happy for you that you
found her."

Mulder grinned and dropped his arm to wrap around her shoulder,
pulling her into his side. "Thanks, Scully," he said, lifting his
other hand to smooth over her hair as her arms wrapped around his
waist.

They held the embrace for a moment, and then Scully shifted
slightly, moving a bit closer. Mulder's smile softened, and he
lowered his head to press a kiss on her temple. She pulled back
slightly and looked up at him as his thumb caressed the spot he'd
just kissed, and he bent again to brush his lips along her
cheekbone, her eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

He drew back, and Scully's eyes opened to meet the darkness in
his. His smile was gone, and she felt her stomach drop at the look
on his face. His thumb kept up its movement against her temple,
and she shivered as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Scully felt herself tense, readying for flight, but she couldn't
move as his face came closer to hers.

"Fox?" Samantha's voice cut through the air around them, and
Mulder jumped back, breaking their embrace. Their gaze held, and
the sound of their ragged breathing filled their ears.

What did we almost do? Scully thought wildly, cutting her eyes
away and looking toward the stairs as Samantha came into view. She
could still feel Mulder's eyes on her as his sister spoke again.

"Oh, there you are," Samantha said, then stopped a few feet from
the sofa, her eyes moving back and forth between the partners.
"I ... I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to interrupt ..."

"No, it's okay," Scully said, rising to her feet. "I need to be
going anyway. It's late."

Mulder didn't move for a moment, then started to stand as he
spoke. "Yeah, and we're going up to Mom's tomorrow to look for
that journal," he said. "I'll probably come by in the morning
before we leave."

Samantha looked at them again, then nodded her agreement. "Okay,
Fox," she said. "I'll see you for breakfast, then?"

Mulder smiled at her, reaching out one hand to touch her shoulder.
"I'll be here," he said, pulling her into a light hug.


=======================
Chapter Ten: Opening Up 
=======================

Annapolis, Maryland
Tuesday, May 26, 1998
6:12 p.m.

Mulder and Scully had been quiet during the 30-minute drive to her
apartment, speaking only briefly about the case and their planned
trip to Greenwich the next day.

But when Mulder pulled up in front of Scully's apartment building,
he turned off the car and turned toward her. "Scully," he started.

"Mulder," she interrupted, holding up a hand. "I'm not up for this
right now, and I need to call Mom and tell her what's going on."
Her eyes pleaded with him to let it drop.

Mulder held her gaze, then nodded reluctantly. "All right," he
said, his look sending a clear message -- but we're going to talk
about this soon.

Scully dropped her gaze to her hands, then looked back up at him.
"See you in the morning," she said, then climbed from the car and
headed up the walkway.

Mulder watched her until she was inside, then restarted the car
and headed for Alexandria.

==========

Once inside, Scully took a moment to calm her nerves before
picking up the phone to call her mother.

"Hello?" Mrs. Scully answered.

"Hi, Mom," Scully said. "I just got home and I wanted to tell you
what's going on."

"Hi, honey," Mrs. Scully said. "I was just about to make some
dinner. Why don't you come eat with me, and you can tell me
everything."

Everything, Scully thought. I don't know about that. Out loud,
she said, "Sure, Mom, just let me change clothes. I should be
there in about 20 minutes."

"See you then, Dana," Mrs. Scully said, and they ended the call.

==========
Home of Margaret Scully
Baltimore, Maryland
7:02 p.m.

Scully helped her mother finish a quick meal of pasta and salad,
and the two women ate as Scully explained about the planned trip
to Greenwich the next day. She avoided mentioning the embrace with
Mulder, but her mother could tell there was more going on.

When Scully finished, Mrs. Scully put down her fork and reached
out to touch her daughter's hand. "What else happened, Dana?" she
said softly.

Scully looked down at her plate, idly twirling linguine around her
fork. "It's nothing, Mom, really," she said.

Mrs. Scully smiled. "It's something, Dana," she said. "Did you ...
did something happen between you and Fox?"

Scully's eyes flew up to latch onto her mother's understanding
gaze, and she knew she was caught. Sighing, she returned to her
contemplation of her food as she spoke.

"I don't know what happened, Mom," she said. "We were talking
about going to Greenwich, and then Mulder apologized again for
not telling me about finding Samantha. We hugged, and then ..."
Her voice trailed off.

Mrs. Scully leaned forward, then lifted her daughter's chin with
her hand. "And then?" she repeated, her gaze probing.

Scully looked away again. "Nothing happened, Mom," she said. "But
he ... I think he was about to kiss me. But Samantha came in, and
he pulled away."

Mrs. Scully smiled. "And you wish he had ... followed through?"

Scully looked up again, her expression a mixture of confusion and
longing. "I ... I don't know, Mom," she whispered, tears
threatening at the edges of her eyes. "I ... I wanted him to, I
really did. But I don't know if we should."

Mrs. Scully's eyes softened, and she reached out to wrap both her
hands around one of Scully's where it sat on the table. "Dana,
don't you think you should your heart for a change?" she said
earnestly. "You've always been led by your mind, but I think it's
time you listened to your instincts."

Scully lifted one corner of her mouth. "Now you sound like Missy,"
she said.

Mrs. Scully returned the half-smile, squeezing Scully's hand
before releasing it. "She was a wise woman, your sister," she
said, and Scully held her gaze for a moment before nodding her
agreement.

==========
Mulder's apartment
7:15 p.m.

When Mulder reached his apartment, a bag of takeout Chinese in
his hand, he had a bevy of messages on his answering machine. He
started them playing while he spread his feast on the coffee
table -- mostly telemarketers, a message from "Chantal" (<gotta
get them to stop calling,> he thought), and then ...

<beep> "Fox, this is Samantha. Please call when you get home. I
need ... there's something I need to tell you about."

It took him all of three seconds to grab the phone and punch in
the numbers.

"Hello?" Rick answered at the safe house.

"Rick, this is ... Fox," Mulder said. "Samantha left a message
for me to call?"

"Yeah, hold on," Rick said, and Mulder could hear him calling
Samantha to the phone.

A few moments passed, and then she said, "Fox?"

"Yeah," Mulder said. "What's wrong, Samantha?"

She sighed. "Nothing's wrong, Fox. But I called home to get our
messages, and we had one ... there was one from my ... that man."

Mulder felt the anger rising. "What did he say?" he ground out
through clenched teeth.

"He said, 'Make him happy, little one,'" Samantha answered, her
voice quavering. "That was what he called me, when I was younger.
And we got ... one of the agents brought by our mail just after
you left, and there was a note from him, stuck in with the mail.
It said, 'You're safe at home, I promise you that,' and he signed
it ..." she paused. "He signed it, 'Dad.'"

Mulder ran his free hand through his hair, his stomach turning as
he thought. "I don't know, Samantha," he said. "He could just be
trying to get you to go home so they can try to take you again."

"I don't think so, Fox," Samantha answered. "I just think ... I
have a feeling that he means it."

Mulder blew out a breath. "Well, let's not do anything tonight,
Sam," he said. "I'll be there first thing in the morning, and
we'll talk about it then."

"Okay, Fox," Samantha answered. She paused again, then said, "I
wanted to tell you, Fox, that I think Agent Scully is a wonderful
woman. I'm glad you have her."

Mulder was taken aback at the sudden change in subject, but he
responded automatically. "So am I," he said. "But ..."

"But you want more, right?" Samantha finished.

Mulder was even more surprised. "Am I that transparent?" he asked.

"Not really," Samantha answered. "But you don't have to be psychic
to see the love between the two of you."

Mulder laughed nervously, running his hand through his hair again.
"You sound like Scully's sister," he said, shaking his head.

Samantha laughed softly. "Tell me about her," she said.

"About Scully?"

"Yes," Samantha answered. "She's a large part of your life, and 
I want to know about your life. To start with, why do you call 
her Scully instead of Dana?"

Mulder leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes, his
rapidly cooling dinner forgotten as he pictured Scully, fresh-
faced and earnest, as she was when she first walked into his
basement office. He smiled again. "Well, to start with, it was
because I didn't trust her," he said. "She was assigned to work
with me on the X-files five years ago, and I thought she was a
spy. It took a long time for me to trust her, to *really* trust
her, and by then, using last names was a habit. And after even
longer ... well, they started to feel almost like ... pet names,
I guess." He was blushing by the time he finished, glad he was
alone in his apartment.

Samantha laughed again. "You can't exactly use 'sweetheart' in
public, can you?" she teased.

Her comment drew another short chuckle from Mulder. "No," he said,
shaking his head ruefully. "I don't think that would go over well
on a case -- 'pass me that autopsy report, sweetheart.'" He
paused, then continued, "She's only called me 'Fox' once, and I
told her then to call me 'Mulder,' that I hated my first name. But
that wasn't really the truth. I don't like the name, but I was
already exhausted when she said it and my defenses were down. It
was all I could do to keep my hands off her." He smiled again, not
quite believing he was pouring all this out to his sister, over
the phone. "It was too dangerous then," he said, "and it's only
gotten more dangerous since." His smile faded at those words.

Samantha's voice dropped to near a whisper as she responded. "You
should tell her, Fox," she said.

Mulder froze, then let his eyes drift shut. "I know," he murmured.
"I know."

==========
Safe house
Somewhere in Northern Virginia
Wednesday, May 27, 1998
7:23 a.m.

Samantha had breakfast ready when Mulder arrived, and she set up
the children to eat in the next room so she, Rick, and Mulder
could discuss the possibility of moving the family back home.
They let Mrs. Mulder sleep a bit longer.

"I don't know, Sam," Mulder said. "We can't trust anything that
man says."

"I know," Samantha said. "But I'd really like to be at home, Fox.
We can put in alarms, have guards, whatever you think is
necessary. But I want to be home, and I know the children do,
too."

Rick nodded his agreement. "I'm going back to work tomorrow, no
matter what," he said. "I've stayed away too long as it is."

Mulder nodded slowly. "What about the kids?" he said. "They'll
need to stay inside for a while."

"That's not a problem," Samantha said. "They're out of school,
and I can keep them at home for at least a few days."

Mulder nodded again. "Well ... I guess it'll be okay, if we put
in an alarm system and keep the guards on," he said. "But we may
need to move you again if anything changes."

Samantha smiled. "We'll be fine, Fox, really," she said. "We'll
be careful."

Mulder was still reluctant but out of arguments -- for once. They
agreed to move the family the following day, and Mulder left to
pick up Scully.

==========
Scully's apartment
Annapolis, Maryland
8:53 a.m.

Scully was a bit surprised to hear a knock at her door just before
nine -- Mulder? Early? -- but then she realized this was an
unusual situation. He's anxious to get up there and find out
what's in that journal, she thought, crossing the floor to let
him in.

As the door swung wide and he came into view, she felt a familiar
flutter deep inside, but somehow richer than before. She supposed
it was their interrupted ... *conversation* the day before; she
couldn't quite get her mind away from it.

"Morning, Scully," Mulder said, grinning at her as he stepped in,
a white paper bag in his hand. "Coffee and a bagel, fresh from
the corner bakery." He stepped over to the table as he spoke,
setting down the bag and dipping inside to extract her breakfast
and his own cup of coffee.

"Great, Mulder, thanks," Scully said, stepping into the kitchen
for creamer and sugar. When she returned, Mulder was watching her,
and she recognized the look in his eyes. He was about to broach
the very subject she was hoping to put off a little longer.

So she jumped in before he could. "Did you talk to your mom this
morning?" she asked quickly, setting the sugar down in front of
him before settling into the chair across from him and reaching
for her coffee and bagel.

Mulder paused, then reached for the sugar bowl with a tiny nod,
his eyes still on her. <All right, it'll wait,> he told her
silently. Out loud, he said, "Actually, Mom was still asleep when
I left the house, but I was thinking we could call her from here
before we left, or just wait until we get up there."

Scully bit off a piece of bagel and chewed thoughtfully. "Well,
it'll only take us a couple of hours to get there, so why don't
we wait and call from Greenwich?"

Mulder nodded his agreement as he stirred the sugar into his
coffee. "Yeah, that's what I thought, too," he said, lifting the
Styrofoam cup to take a sip.

They lapsed into silence again, but Scully was still concerned
about what he might say next. So she fished around for another
topic. "Did, uh, you and Samantha get a chance to talk again?"
she asked, her eyes darting nervously from her food to his face,
then back.

Mulder smiled softly at her above his cup. "It's okay, Scully,"
he said gently. "I'm on my best behavior now."

She felt herself blush and quickly stood up from her seat,
grabbing the creamer and sugar bowl, and the remains of her bagel,
and turned toward the kitchen to cover her embarrassment. But
Mulder shot out a hand before she could get away, touching the
back of her hand where it gripped the jar of creamer.

Unconsciously bracing herself, she looked back at him. His eyes
were soft but guarded, just enough that she could tell he was
holding back. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he
murmured, "Whenever you're ready."

She continued to stare into his eyes, then nodded quickly and
broke away, escaping into the kitchen.


========================
Chapter 11: Breakthrough
========================

Home of Teena Mulder
Greenwich, Connecticut
Wednesday, May 27, 1998
11:51 a.m.

Mulder pushed open the door and stepped into the attic of his
mother's house, a large, open room covering about half the width
of the structure. The floor was cluttered with boxes, a few old
footlockers and chests, various pieces of furniture, and some old
toys.

He heard Scully sigh behind him and turned toward her. She was
scanning the contents of the room, her eyes wistful. Softly, she
said, "It reminds me of my grandmother's house."

Mulder smiled. "Good memories?" he asked.

Her eyes landed on his, and she returned the smile. "The best,"
she said, stepping further into the room. Her gaze dipped to a
battered chest of drawers sitting near her, and she reached out
one hand to run her fingertips along the dust-covered surface.
"She had three or four old bureaus and chests full of clothes,
and Missy and I would spend hours playing dress-up. We must have
been, I don't know, 7 and 8 years old." She looked back up at
him, a soft smile still on her face. "I was a tomboy, but I still
loved to play in the attic."

As she spoke, Mulder couldn't stop staring at her. The idea of
watching her so closely wasn't new; he often caught himself
looking at her when there really wasn't any reason. But seeing her
here, her honeyed hair aglow in the filtered sunlight, her eyes
sparkling with childhood memories ... he thought nothing could
make him look away.

Well, nothing except maybe her. Almost as if she knew he was
transfixed, she turned away, breaking the spell.

Looking around the room, she moved toward a large, round-topped
chest against the front wall, just below the high window which let
in the sunlight. "This looks like a good prospect," she said, back
to the businesslike tone she donned whenever they had a job to do.

Shaking his head at himself, his mouth lifting into a wry smile,
he followed her. Together, they moved the chest a few inches
further away from the wall to give them room to lift the heavy
lid. That done, they settled on the floor at opposite ends and
began going through the contents.

They worked silently but quickly, and barely fifteen minutes
later, Scully lifted a tattered scrapbook from the chest and saw
a small leather-bound book sitting beneath it. "Mulder," she
whispered.

He looked up at her from the photo album he'd just pulled from the
chest, and saw her eyes directed down. He followed her gaze to
land on the small book, and he moved toward her slowly, coming to
his knees beside her as she set the scrapbook down to one side.

Carefully, Mulder reached in and lifted the book, feeling the dry
leather crackle under his fingers. He sat back on his heels,
bringing the book with him, and just stared at it for a moment.

Scully watched him, then softly cleared her throat. "Mulder," she
said gently. "We're not sure yet that it's the right one."

He glanced at her, then nodded once and turned back to the
journal. Slowly, he pulled back the cover and turned to the first
page. Out loud, he read, "Journal of Teena Mulder, 1961. There's no
ending date listed." He looked back at Scully. "This is it," he
said.

They didn't move for a moment, and then Mulder pushed himself to
his feet and stepped over to the chest of drawers near the door,
laying the journal on top of it. Turning back, he met Scully's
quizzical look and crooked a wry smile. "I don't think I'm ready
to dive in right this second," he said by way of explanation.

She smiled briefly. "So what, then?" she said.

He shrugged. "Put back all the other stuff we pulled out, I
guess," he said, crossing back to the chest and looking down at
the assortment of books and memorabilia they'd unearthed in their
brief search for the journal.

Scully followed his gaze. "I guess cleaning up after ourselves
*would* be a good idea," she said. She reached across to grab the
photo album Mulder had been looking at when she found the journal.
"What was so interesting in this, anyway?" she asked, pulling the
book onto her lap and opening the cover.

"Scully ..." Mulder started to protest, reaching for the album.

But it was too late.

The album was filled with baby pictures.

Of Mulder.

Scully stared at the photographs, starting with the early black-
and-whites of a tiny baby in its mother's arms to the later color
shots of a little boy playing with blocks and toddling across the
floor.

An exasperated sigh came from her partner, and she realized he was
mortally embarrassed. She felt a giggle rising up and tried to
stifle it, but wasn't completely successful. Her face twitched
with the effort, and she chanced a look up at him from under her
eyelashes.

"That does it," he growled, fairly diving for the album.

Scully let out a half-shriek and pulled the book close against her
chest, trying to fight him off one-handed. "Mulder!" she gasped
through her laughter, as he grabbed her wrist and pushed her back.

She landed on her back on the floor, the album slipping to one
side as she fell back. She grabbed at it, but Mulder was too
quick, shoving it away and latching onto her other wrist, drawing
her arms above her head and pinning her to the floor.

"Oh, you think that's *funny*, do you?" he demanded, shifting so
his knees rested on the floor on either side of her thighs. She
wriggled her hips, trying to get a leg up to push him away, and
he brought his knees in, capturing her legs between his.

"Laugh at me, will you?" he said, trying to keep the stern tone in
his voice, though he was fighting off a case of the chuckles by
then himself. Scully could only nod helplessly, still trying to
hold back her giggles.

Then Mulder froze, and before either of them quite realized what
was happening -- and before Scully could react -- Mulder bent his
head down and kissed her.

==========
12:22 p.m.

Scully was shocked, at first, but couldn't help her response. She
kissed him back, lifting her head from the floor to meet him, and
Mulder gradually released her wrists, moving his hands to cup her
face and deepen the kiss. Freed from their restraints, her hands
moved as well, one threading through his hair and the other
wrapping around his back.

They kissed for several minutes, then pulled away slightly, both
breathing hard.

"Mulder ..." Scully said, but he cut her off with another kiss,
and she fell back into their embrace. The wood floor was hard
against her back, and she could just imagine the layers of dust
coating their clothes. Then all thought left her mind, and she
knew only Mulder and his kiss.

Unfortunately, the dust was targeting more than just their
clothes.

Scully felt it coming and yanked her head back, turning it to one
side just in time. "Ahh-CHOO!" she sneezed, and Mulder froze above
her.

She turned her head slowly back toward him, and they stared at
each other before he softly said, "Gesundheit."

Seconds passed. Then, grins slowly spread across their faces, and
within moments they were convulsing with laughter. Mulder buried
his face against her shoulder, and she dropped her hand from his
head back onto the floor above her head as their bodies shook.

Gradually, they calmed down, and Mulder lifted his head to capture
her eyes again. Still smiling, he said, "Only us," before leaning
forward for one last peck on her mouth.

She giggled again as he pushed himself up and rolled into a
sitting position, then turned to look back down at her. Her eyes
were bright, a smile still sat on her face, her hair was mussed
and dusty, and a streak of dirt ran along one cheek.

"You're so beautiful." Mulder was as surprised as she was when the
words spilled from his mouth.

She blushed as she rose to sit up, then ran a hand through her
hair. "I'm a mess," she said, flustered.

"No," Mulder said, leaning forward to cup her cheek and brushing
away the dirty streak with his thumb. "You're always beautiful to
me."

Scully searched his eyes, then dropped her head, allowing her hair
to fall as a curtain across her face. Mulder let his hand fall
away, still watching her, then carefully shoved himself to his
feet, brushing dust from his jeans and shirt. He then offered his
hand to her, and she hesitated only a moment before taking it and
climbing up herself.

They stared at each other again for a few moments. Then Scully
looked away, turning to pick up the journal from the chest where
he'd placed it. "Well, let's go see if we can get a little cleaned
up, and then see what this journal has to say."

She turned toward the doorway, but Mulder put out a hand and
gently grasped her upper arm. "Scully," he said. "We still need
to talk."

She looked back at him, her eyes as carefully guarded as he'd
ever seen them. "I know, Mulder," she replied. "But now's not
the time."

He held her gaze, then nodded slowly and let go of her arm. She
turned back and started through the door, and, after watching her
for a moment, Mulder followed.

==========
12:47 p.m.

After a quick clean-up to remove the worst of the dust and grime,
Mulder had moved to the living room and Scully to the kitchen.
Mulder had offered to tackle lunch, but Scully told him,
teasingly, that she didn't quite trust him to cook.

"Cook?" he said. "I thought you were making sandwiches!"

"Okay, so I don't quite trust you to slap ham and cheese between
bread," she said, smiling broadly to be sure he knew she was
kidding. "Just don't argue with me Mulder. Get in there and start
reading." Her smiled softened. "I know it's not going to be easy,
but I want to know what's in there as much as you do."

The brief conversation had eased some of the tension between them,
and Mulder was now going through his mother's journal, reading
bits and pieces of the entries as he went. The journal started,
he discovered, the day after Mrs. Mulder learned she was expecting
her first child.

"April 7, 1961

"Yesterday Bill and I received marvelous news from the doctor.
I'm going to have a baby! I had suspected it for several weeks,
but it feels so wonderful to have confirmation.

"Dr. Wilson said my child will be born in October. A lovely gift
for the fall, although I do imagine the summer months will be
somewhat uncomfortable because of the heat. But I am happy to
experience even the difficulties of my condition, for the coming
rapture of seeing my beautiful child.

"I have decided to begin keeping a journal for my child. I want
him, or her, to know the joy and love I am feeling today and each
day as this baby grows within me.

"My first message for my child is simple, but will never change.
Do not forget, my child, that your mother loves you." 

Mulder found himself fighting back tears as he read. His
relationship with his mother had not been easy through the years.
Samantha's disappearance had opened a chasm between them which
was only now being bridged. But he'd always known, no matter
what happened, that she loved him and he loved her.

After all, she was his mother.

==========
1:08 p.m.

Scully had just finished replacing her sandwich supplies in the
refrigerator and was setting their meals on the kitchen table
when she heard Mulder call her name. 

Stepping into the doorway, she said, "Lunch is ready, Mulder. Is
something wrong?"

He looked up at her, and she was struck by the blend of sorrow,
wonder, and rage she saw there. "Mulder?" she repeated, her brow
furrowing with concern. "What is it?"

Mulder slowly rose and moved toward her, the journal still in his
hands. "I ... I think I found it, Scully," he said softly. He
stopped next to her, leaning in close, then pointed at the book.
"I found multiple references to a 'John McKee' who was apparently
a family friend. Mom wrote of him visiting the house frequently.
She says he was a colleague of Dad's."

Scully searched his eyes, still puzzled. "What else?"

He moved around her, toward the kitchen table, and lowered himself
into a chair. "As the entries go on, she mentions McKee more
often, but it's more and more hostile. She speaks of him 'pushing'
her and Dad, that he won't leave them alone about 'it.' But she
never says what 'it' is."

Scully seated herself at the end of the table, next to Mulder.
"What do you think it means?"

He simply stared at her. "I think it's what Mom was talking
about," he said. "I think ... " His voice trailed off, and he
placed the book on the table and flipped a few pages, then
pointed at a blank page. "The entries stop here, about two-
thirds of the way through the book. I'll read the last one."

"January 17, 1965

"Bill and I talked again last night, and we have decided we must
agree to John's demands. We can see no other way out of this
situation.

"If we had known years ago just what we were getting ourselves
into ... but we can't go back and change things. We must go along
with this plan. We cannot allow unnecessary risks to our family,
and most especially to you, Fox.

"I will not be writing again. I can no longer bear it."

January 1965. Scully realized the connection. "That's ..." she
started.

"Ten months before Sam was born," Mulder confirmed.

They could only sit there, in silence, looking at each other.

Finally, Scully spoke again. "So this John McKee ... you think he
may be Samantha's father?"

Mulder inhaled deeply. "Yeah. But there's one more thing, Scully,"
he said. She raised an eyebrow, and he went on. "She says ..." He
sighed. "About two months before the entries end, she says ...
she told John he couldn't smoke in the house any more."


=======================
Chapter Twelve: Answers
=======================

Safe house
Somewhere in Northern Virginia
Wednesday, May 27, 1998
7:12 p.m.

The driveway and curbside were crowded already when Mulder
pulled up -- Rick and Samantha's minivan, two nondescript sedans
that screamed "FBI ISSUE," and Skinner's own somewhat-nicer-than-
issue Crown Victoria.

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here," Mulder intoned as he shut down
the car, glancing at Scully to see the standard raised eyebrow in
place.

Scully allowed a small smile as she picked up the journal from the
seat between them. "Good," she said. "Maybe we'll only have to go
over everything once."

Before she could move to get out of the car, Mulder closed his
hand around her wrist, and she looked up at him apprehensively.
<Not now,> she thought.

"Scully," Mulder said softly. "I wanted to say ... thank you for
going with me. I don't ... I couldn't have done it by myself."

Relieved, Scully smiled. "You're welcome, Mulder," she said. "I
wouldn't have been anywhere else."

He held her wrist a moment longer, his thumb absently brushing
against the soft skin, then released her with a nod and a quick
smile. They climbed from the car and headed up the walkway, Scully
staying a few paces ahead to discourage Mulder from placing his
hand on the small of her back as he did so often. Her wrist was
still tingling from his touch, and she didn't think she could
handle any more contact right then.

She stopped at the door and knocked, and a few moments later
Rick opened the door and silently stepped back to allow them in.
Scully's eyes immediately moved to the living room on the right,
where she saw Skinner and Spender sitting across from Samantha and
Mrs. Mulder, talking. The group looked up as the partners walked
toward them, and Mrs. Mulder was first to speak.

"Did you ... did you find it?" she whispered.

Scully glanced down at the leather-bound volume in her hand, then
silently held it out to Mrs. Mulder, who took it carefully. She
slowly moved the cover open and read her own handwriting there,
and her eyes slowly fell shut.

Mulder moved to sit in a chair near her, watching her movements.
The room was silent, until Mrs. Mulder spoke again.

"What does it say?" she whispered.

Mulder's mouth opened and moved, but no words came out. He
snapped his mouth shut, caught his bottom lip between his teeth,
and looked pleadingly at Scully.

They'd spent the drive back hashing out what, exactly, to say
when they got back to Washington. After an hour of discussion,
theory, and near-argument, followed by fifteen minutes of dead
silence, they'd come to an agreement that Mulder would do the
talking and would say only what they'd decided was critical.

Unfortunately, his voice apparently wasn't going to cooperate.

Scully took a step forward, positioning herself equidistant
between Mulder and his mother. She took a deep breath, then
addressed Mrs. Mulder directly, but in a loud enough voice to
make it clear she was talking to the entire group.

"The journal starts in 1961, the day you found out you were
expecting Mul ... Fox," she said, casting a brief look of apology
at her partner for her use of his first name. "We haven't read
every entry carefully, but it seems to cover mainly everyday
things and regular events for nearly five years -- birthdays,
trips, holidays. And it ends in January of 1965, ten months
before Samantha was born."

She paused, glancing at Spender, before turning her attention
back to Mrs. Mulder. "From the beginning, the entries include
many mentions of a man who apparently worked with Mr. Mulder and
was a friend of the family. He visited not only the house in
Chilmark but also the beach house at Quonochontaug. The entries
gradually become more hostile toward him, and it appears he was
the person pushing you to continue with the genetics program. The
last entry states that you and your husband felt you had no
choice but to agree to his demands."

Scully paused to allow her words to sink in. Mrs. Mulder again
had tears running down her face, and Scully watched her until the
older woman looked up and nodded briefly, signaling her to go on.

She inhaled deeply again before she spoke again. "There are only
two other clues to John McKee's identity. One, the journal
describes him as going waterskiing with Mr. Mulder at
Quonochontaug." She glanced at Samantha for a second as she said
this. "And the other ..." She stopped to steel herself again, then
said, "The other comes from an entry about two months before the
journal ends -- in which you say you told John he could no longer
smoke in the house."

Silence enveloped the group as Scully finished speaking, all
considering the indications -- no proof, but plenty of
circumstantial evidence.

Then Spender cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look at
him. "I, uh, spent most of the day at my mother's house," he
started. "I found some of my mother's old journals, including one
from the mid-'60s. She ... she also talks about a 'John' and
doesn't give a last name. I assumed he was my father, but ..."
his voice trailed off. 

"He may be," Scully said, unsure whether the thought would be
reassuring to the young agent. "Do you ... how much do you
remember about your father?" she asked

Spender shrugged. "Not much, really," he said. "He wasn't home
that much when I was a kid, and Mom didn't keep any photographs
after he left. I was seven when he moved out, even though they
didn't actually divorce until I was ten. I remember he was tall,
and had a rough voice, and ..." He exhaled sharply, giving the
impression of a deflating balloon. "And he always smelled like
cigarette smoke. I don't remember seeing him smoke, but Mom may
have told him he couldn't around me. I had asthma when I was
about four for a couple of years." He looked sharply at Scully.
"But he wasn't the man who took Sam and me waterskiing that
summer," he said emphatically. "I know that."

Scully nodded slowly. "Was there anything else in the journal?"
she asked.

Spender's eyes never left hers. "I had ... apparently my mother
had two miscarriages before I was born," he said, his voice a bit
weaker. "And ... and she had a daughter, in 1966. Rebecca Lynn.
She died when she was a few days old."

At that point, Mulder finally found his voice. "So your parents
couldn't have children," he said musingly, and Scully turned to
look at him. His eyes were unfocused, directed off toward a point
somewhere in the air, and he was chewing on the inside of his
cheek. She recognized the look -- he was processing all the
information, like a computer, and would come up with a theory in
a few minutes.

Out of the corner of her eye, Scully saw Skinner shift forward as
if to speak. She shot him a warning look -- give Mulder a
minute -- and he paused before nodding almost imperceptibly.

Finally, Mulder's eyes came back into focus, landing on Scully.
She nodded her encouragement, and he began to speak.

"All this ties in with everything we've uncovered in the past,"
he started, addressing the group as a whole. "We've encountered
at least three new forms of toxins -- the branched DNA found in
Scully's and Samantha's blood; a green, acid-like substance; and
a black oil. I've been exposed to both of those, but I think the
green substance is the main focus of the tests." He paused to
allow this to soak in, then said, "I think this genetic testing
project was part of a plan to create a 'super race' that would
have heightened immunity and possibly stronger resistance to these
toxins." He glanced at Scully. "It could explain why Samantha and
I recovered relatively easily from our exposures to the toxins."

Then he turned his attention to Spender. "I also think your
parents were either a part of the program to begin with, but
could not have children on their own. When they were told to
allow another man to father their child, they agreed, because it
was apparently going to be the only way they could have a child."

Spender considered this. "And you think this 'John McKee,' whoever
he really is, was the person who fathered their child ... me," he
said.

Mulder nodded. "I think he fathered both you and Samantha as part
of the program," he said. "And I think he's the one who had
Samantha taken, to punish Mom and Dad for resisting the program."

Then Rick spoke up. "You people can't be for real," he said, and
the group looked up at him. "This sounds like some low-grade sci-
fi novel."

Samantha smiled at that. "I said the same thing, honey," she said.
Then she sobered. "But I think it's the truth. Or as close to the
truth as we can get right now."

Rick stared at his wife, then looked around the room at the
assembled group. He knew these weren't stupid people, although he
had his doubts about their sanity, and he trusted his wife and her
judgment. But he still felt the need for some concrete proof.

"All right," he said reluctantly. "But I'd still like some proof,
of any of it."

Mulder chose to respond. "I can offer proof from experience of the
toxins we're talking about," he said. "I was exposed twice, once
much more seriously, to an unidentifed green ... acid, for want of
a better word, that has caused the deaths or near-deaths of
several people. My exposures are on my medical history, and at
least two other exposures can be documented by medical personnel
at the San Diego County Children's Center and San Diego County
Hospital. The two survivors there, one of them a detective with
the San Diego police, will also back that up.

"We have also encountered people who apparently have this toxin in
their bodies, as part of their body chemistry," he went on. "A few
years ago, a woman claiming to be Samantha came to my father's
house. We later discovered that she was, in fact, a clone. Her
body contained the toxin in question."

"A clone?" Spender was incredulous. "You can't be serious."

Scully pinned him with a look. "I watched the body of this woman
disintegrate," she said. "She appeared to have the green toxin in
her body, as part of her body chemistry." She glanced back at
Mulder. "And late last year, I ... we found a little girl who had
the same toxin in her system. But she wasn't a clone. She was
human. And the toxin killed her."

Samantha turned her head toward Scully, realization in her
expression. "She was your daughter, wasn't she?" she asked.

Scully closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and nodded. "She ... we
think she was created as a result of experiments done on me when
I was missing several years ago," she said softly.

An uncomfortable silence overcame the group, until Spender again
spoke. "Where did this toxin come from?" he asked, directing the
question at Mulder.

Mulder met his gaze. "I don't think you want to hear it," he said.
"But as a result of all we've seen, and the tests Scully and
others have conducted, I believe both the green toxin and the
black oil are extraterrestrial in origin."

Spender shook his head. "I might have known," he muttered.

"Agent Spender," Skinner barked, skewering the young man with his
eyes. "The origin of the toxins is irrelevant at this point. The
fact remains that they exist."

Spender looked at the A.D., then nodded. "All right," he said
reluctantly. "But I'd still like to know their purpose, and the
reason for this genetic testing program."

Mulder answered him. "The genetics program, as Scully said
earlier, may have been designed to produce children with a high
level of tolerance to the toxins. This would make it easier to
create clones, and hybrids, who could survive with the toxins in
their systems." Then his eyes widened, and he looked at Scully.
"Scully ..." he said. "Have you ... I think we should test your
blood for the antibodies, too."

She stared at him, and then realized what he was thinking. If
Emily was a hybrid, created with her ova ... "You don't think my
parents ..." Her forehead furrowed, from fear or disbelief, she
wasn't sure which.

"I don't know," Mulder interrupted. "I don't think so. But
considering the medical records we found in West Virginia, it
would have been easy for them to identify any children outside
the program who showed strong immune systems. Or, they could have
discovered it during your abduction. You did recover from your
exposure to the branched DNA, when no one ... almost no one
thought it was possible." He paused, then said, "Or it could have
been neither. They would need a control group for the experiments,
too."

Scully pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "So we expand our blood
tests," she said. "I'll give the ... our colleagues a sample and
have them check for the same antibodies." She glanced at Spender.
"And Agent Spender's, if he agrees."

Spender looked at her, then nodded his assent before turning his
attention back to Mulder. "I don't buy this ... alien idea," he
said. "But I can see the possibility that someone was trying to
create a 'super race.' It's certainly been tried before."

Mulder leaned forward. "And this may have been orchestrated by
some of the same men," he said firmly. "We know German scientists
were given asylum in the U.S. after World War II. And we've seen
evidence that some of those men may have been involved in this
program."

He glanced at Scully, then looked back at Spender. "We need to
find out all we can about your mother," he said. "Any information
you have, family connections, schools ... anything. The more we
find, the more chance we have of proving who your father is ...
and of finding your mother."

Spender nodded. "I can go back to her house tomorrow and finish
going through her things," he said. "And I do have some family I
can contact, although we have lost touch with most of them because
of Mom's ... illness."

Skinner broke in at this point. "I'll start the ball rolling at
the Bureau to find anything that might be helpful," he said, then
pushed himself to his feet. "Agents Mulder and Scully, may I speak
to you privately?"

Mulder and Scully glanced at each other as they stood, then
followed the A.D. into the kitchen.

Skinner turned toward them, planting his hands on his hips. "I've
been working on your reassignments, and I think I've worked out a
deal where you'll be able to remain as partners," he said. "You'll
be assigned to Violent Crimes, and you'll still be working at
headquarters."

Mulder and Scully glanced at each other, relief evident on their
faces. Then Mulder turned his attention back to the A.D. "What
about the X-files, sir?" he asked.

Skinner blew out a breath. "That I'm still working on," he said.
"The X-files division is shut down, and I can't do anything about
that, at least not right now. But I should be able to keep the
files themselves under my jurisdiction, and I may be able to
direct some of those cases your way. I can't make any promises."

Skinner then looked at Mulder. "Agent Mulder, I had a call from
Bethesda earlier this afternoon, and they said Agent Fowley's
condition is improving. She's been fighting an infection, and
they've still got her on a ventilator, but her vitals have
stabilized."

Mulder nodded, his eyes intense on his supervisor. "That's good
news," he said. "I should go by and see her. I'll do that on
Friday, since we'll be helping Samantha move back home tomorrow."

Scully tried not to react to Mulder's words but realized she
hadn't controlled herself entirely when Skinner flashed her a
look before speaking again. "I'll see the two of you soon,"
Skinner said, nodding at them before leaving.


=====================
Chapter 13: Avoidance
=====================

Safe house
Somewhere in Northern Virginia
Thursday, May 28, 1998
10:33 a.m.

Mulder carried another pair of suitcases to the Carsons' minivan
as his sister and his partner continued to pack the family's
belongings. The children were safely ensconced in front of the
television, glued to the video of "Babe" Scully had brought from
home.

As Mulder came back through the kitchen, Scully could feel his
gaze on her back but carefully ignored it. He'd been staring at
her every time they were in the same room for the entire hour-
and-a-half since she'd arrived, but she didn't want to confront
the issue at this point.

Scully placed a last few items in the cardboard box sitting on
the counter in front of her and slowly lifted the box into her
arms. She turned toward the door and nearly ran into her partner,
who immediately reached for the box.

"I can get it, Mulder," she insisted as he took the box.

"I know," he said amicably, shooting her his best boyish grin.
"But I'm no good at packing, so I'm doing the carrying. 'K?"

She couldn't help but return the smile as she turned back to her
packing. She again felt him watching her and was just about to
shoot him a "drop dead" look when he turned and headed back down
the hall toward the front door.

A few minutes passed, and Samantha walked back into the kitchen
carrying an overnight bag in each hand and another over her
shoulder. "I didn't realize how much we'd brought," she said, a
bit wearily. "As much as I'll be glad to be home, I'm beginning
to dread unpacking all this." She dropped the bags near the door
to the hall and flopped into a chair at the kitchen table.

Scully half-smiled as she continued loading another box. "Well,
at least you have free help," she said. "Mulder sure can come in
handy in that respect."

"You talkin' about me behind my back again?" Mulder's voice came
from the doorway, and Scully looked almost guilty as she turned
her head toward him. But his grin was either still in place or
back, and she relaxed.

"Yeah, you know, Mulder, I have to get my shots in when I can,"
she retorted, turning back to the cabinets.

Mulder stepped across and sat down next to Samantha, still
watching Scully. Finally, he turned to his sister, nodding
toward the bags at the doorway. "That the last of it?" he asked.

Samantha nodded. "Thank goodness," she said. "I'm already
exhausted. I was just telling Dana I'm starting to dread
unpacking at home."

Mulder chuckled. "So *that's* what the free help comment was
about!" he exclaimed, shooting a jokingly accusing look at
Scully, who returned with another half-smile.

Scully turned fully to look at her partner and his sister and was
struck once again by the dream-turned-reality she saw. It's her;
it really is, she thought, momentarily bypassing her nagging need
for proof. Her heart swelled with joy for her partner, best
friend, and ... well, she'd worry about the rest later.

Just then, Mulder shoved himself back to his feet. "Well,
brotherly duty calls," he said lightly. "Let me get these in the
van, and we'll get out of here."

Samantha smiled up at him. "Thank you, Fox," she said. "For
everything."

Mulder stared at his sister for a moment, then reached out a hand
to squeeze her shoulder. "Believe me, Sam, it's my pleasure," he
said. He held on for another moment, then turned to pick up the
bags and head for the front door.

Samantha and Scully both watched him go, then swiveled their
heads back to face each other. A thread of kinship flowed between
them, as each read pure love written on the other's face.

They smiled at each other before going back to their tasks.

==========
Home of Rick and Samantha Carson
Gaithersburg, Maryland
12:02 p.m.

The whole process was going on in reverse, with Mulder bringing
bags and boxes in while Scully and Samantha unpacked. The kids had
been dispatched to their own rooms with their suitcases, to unload
their belongings and get re-acquainted with the toys they'd had to
leave behind.

"Fox?" Samantha called, stepping into the front doorway as Mulder
headed back to the car for another load. He turned to look at her,
and she smiled. "Could you get the kitchen boxes next? I'm going
to make us some lunch."

He smiled. "Sure thing," he said, turning back toward the minivan.

Samantha watched him walking away, then sighed and turned to go
back into the kitchen. There, she found Scully standing at the
back wall, studying the grouping of family pictures hanging there.

Samantha hesitated, then walked across the room and stopped
beside Scully. The two women silently looked at the photos, until
Samantha said, "I didn't even have a picture of him, you know."

Scully turned her head to look at Samantha, then dropped her eyes
and smiled, nodding. "He's kept one of you on his desk, at least
all the time I've known him," she said. "He had one of the two of
you, together, that he kept in his apartment." She paused, then
turned to face the other woman fully. "He never gave up," she said
softly. "Not even ..." She swallowed, then went on, "Not even when
he was the only one who believed he'd find you."

Samantha looked down, tears beginning to slide down her face. "I
know," she said. "I knew it the moment I saw him last fall." She
lifted one hand to wipe away the moisture on her cheeks, then
looked back over at Scully and said, "I thought he was dead.
Dad -- that man -- told me Fox was dead. But ... but he knew where
he was the whole time, didn't he?"

Scully reached out a hand and placed it on Samantha's arm. "I
think he did," she said gently. "He's know for at least five
years. He ... he was there when I was sent to work with Mulder.
He was in the room when I was told about the assignment. I think
he orchestrated the whole thing, although I still don't really
know why."

Samantha's eyes closed against Scully's words, but her tears had
dried up. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and
lowered her head, shivering.

Scully didn't know what to say, but Mulder's entrance with
another box forestalled the need. "Lunch has arrived," he
proclaimed, then paused as he caught sight of the two women
huddled against the far wall. Lowering the box onto the counter,
he moved quickly toward them. "Scully? Sam? Is everything okay?"

Samantha nodded once, quickly, before straightening and opening
her eyes. "It's okay, Fox," she said, her voice stronger than
Scully had expected. "Just a little emotional today, I guess."

Scully managed to smile at him. "We're fine, Mulder, really."

Mulder seemed about to challenge their responses, then stopped
himself and made a visible effort to relax. "Okay," he said,
still watching them.

Samantha moved past him to the box he'd brought in and reached in
to start unpacking. Mulder followed her with his eyes, but
remained standing near Scully. After a few moments, he turned
back to look at Scully and said, "I'm going to double-check the
new alarm system before lunch, unless you need any help."

Scully shook her head. "Go ahead, we've got it under control,"
she said, and he studied her face briefly before nodding sharply
and turning back toward Samantha. He watched his sister again,
then moved toward the door and headed back down the hall to the
front of the house.

Scully took a deep breath as he left, then stepped over to help
Samantha with lunch.

==========
Georgetown
1:53 p.m.

After making a stop by the Bureau to get the new blood samples to
take to the Gunmen, Mulder and Scully rode in a somewhat
uncomfortable silence toward her house. Both were tired from
helping Samantha's family move, but it was the tension remaining
between them that kept them silent.

Finally, as soon as the car had rolled to a stop in front of her
building, Mulder turned toward Scully. "Scully, we have to talk
about this," he said.

She nodded, her eyes on her hands where they lay twisted around
each other in her lap, her hair falling as a curtain in front of
her face. "I know," she said. "But I can't, not now." She looked
up at him. "I'm sorry. Soon, I promise."

Mulder looked like he was about to protest again, the muscles
playing along his jaw as he clenched his teeth. He jerked a quick
nod. "I'm holding you to that," he said in a tight voice, forcing
a stiff half-smile.

Scully didn't return the smile but held his gaze a few more
moments before leaving the car and heading up the walkway toward
the building.

==========
Mulder's apartment
3:36 p.m.

Feeling a bit better after a shower, Mulder flopped down on his
couch and flicked on the TV, trying to clear his mind by finding
some brainless game show or infomercial for background noise.
Ah, QVC, he thought, turning the volume to a low murmur and
dropping the remote on the coffee table. He stretched out on the
cushions, pulling a pillow behind his head and folding his hands
over his stomach.

Now, if I can only get my eyes to close ... he thought.

He stared at the ceiling, his gaze running across the long-ago
memorized pattern of slats and cracks, but he wasn't seeing them.
He was seeing glowing hair, ivory skin, full red lips, and dark,
dark, blue-green eyes.

He sighed, forcing his eyes shut, but that only brought the
picture into clearer focus. Scully below him, laughing, her hair
brushing against the hardwood floor as she tried to escape his
teasing hold. Her eyes sparkled in the half-light, dust motes
floating around them as they playfully wrestled.

Her cupid's-bow mouth, begging to be kissed ...

Mulder groaned, exasperated, and opened his eyes as he pushed
himself up to sit on the edge of the cushions, his whole body
throbbing with the memory. This is not going to work, he
thought, and instead grabbed for the phone.

"Lone Gunmen."

Mulder heard the distinctive clicking sound on the line and said,
"Frohike, don't you guys have Caller ID yet?"

"Mulder!" Frohike exclaimed. "Hold on a sec ..." A few keystrokes
sounded, and Frohike went on, "All shut down, man. What's up?"

"Got a favor to ask," Mulder said. "I need you to find out all you
can about Jeffery Spender and his mother, Cassandra. He's an FBI
agent, and she was the mysterious 'Patient X' Dr. Werber was
working with."

"Oh, yeah, the one who disappeared from that bridge?" Frohike
said.

"Yeah, apparently so," Mulder answered. "And also, anything you
have on any old X-files, anything that might help us put some of
them back together. Especially ... well, you know which ones are
the most critical."

"Yeah, we know," Frohike said. "It's funny, Agent Scully didn't
mention any of that when she came by."

Mulder's eyes widened. "Scully was there?" he asked.

A pause, then Frohike said, "Yeah, man, she brought by some more
blood samples about a half-hour ago. Figured you knew she was
coming."

Mulder sighed. "Yeah, but I didn't know she was going so soon,"
he said. "We haven't ... well, we didn't talk much today."

"Oh," Frohike said, his complete lack of understanding evident in
his voice. He paused, then said, "Hey, Mulder, how's Diana doing?"

Mulder leaned back against the couch and stared back up at the
ceiling as he answered. "She's still unconscious, but improving,
according to Skinner," he said. "I'm going by in the morning to
see her."

"You are?" Frohike said in a surprised tone.

"Yeah," Mulder said, puzzled. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I thought because Scully ..." Frohike's voice trailed off.

"Because Scully what?" Mulder asked, instantly on alert.

Frohike didn't answer immediately, and Mulder got the feeling the
Gunman had let something slip. "Frohike ..." Mulder threatened.

Frohike sighed in resignation. "When Scully came by last week,
she ... she asked about Diana. Asked who she was. She was pretty
upset, from what I could see."

Mulder's eyes closed as realization began to dawn. "What did you
tell her?" he asked carefully.

"We said ... well, I told her you two were an item after you got
out of the academy, and Langly said you were working together when
you discovered the X-files. Just the truth, man. We were kind of
surprised you hadn't told her already."

And Mulder understood.

Scully was jealous.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "That explains a lot," he
murmured under his breath.

"Huh?" Frohike said, and Mulder remembered he was still on the
phone.

"Thanks, Frohike," he said. "I'll check back in soon."

Mulder hung up the phone and just sat, thinking back over the past
week. Scully had seemed unusually tense during the Gibson Praise
case, but Mulder had been so wrapped up in the developments, and
in the shock of seeing Diana again, that he hadn't seen what was
really going on.

Scully was jealous of Diana. Which also explained her reaction
when he said he was going to visit the injured agent in the
hospital.

Well, he thought. I guess that's just one more thing we're
going to have to talk about.


=====================
Chapter 14: Moving On
=====================

Scully's apartment
Friday, May 29, 1998
9:12 a.m.

Dana Scully was restless, and she didn't like the feeling. She
hadn't slept well, having a horrible time getting the jumble of
thoughts in her mind to shut down for long. So she got up early,
and was now spending entirely too much time straightening up her
apartment.

Finally, she realized she had been polishing the same spot on her
already spanking-clean dining room table for nearly five minutes,
and she flopped down on a chair in exasperation. "What is *wrong*
with me?" she muttered, shaking her head as though to dispel a
decade's worth of cobwebs.

Or maybe just five years' worth.

Sighing, she pushed herself back to her feet, leaving the dustrag
and polish on the table. She headed straight for the door,
grabbing her purse as she went.

==========
Home of Margaret Scully
Baltimore, Maryland
9:53 a.m.

Margaret Scully was unsurprised to see her daughter's car pulling
up to the curb in front of the house. After the tumultuous events
of the past weeks, she knew Dana had a lot to sort through -- most
important being her feelings for her partner. Mrs. Scully knew
Dana had few close friends other than Mulder, and she was more
than happy to be a sounding board for her daughter.

Mrs. Scully moved to open the door as Scully reached the porch,
flashing her daughter a smile. "Good morning, Dana," she said,
reaching to give her a quick hug. "How are you?"

Scully returned the embrace, holding on a bit longer than usual as
she gave her standard response. "I'm fine, Mom," she said, pulling
back. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked.

"No, honey, not at all," Mrs. Scully said, stepping back to let
Scully in. "Come on in."

Mrs. Scully led the way to the kitchen and insisted Scully sit at
the table and let her make tea for them both. She pulled out her
kettle and began filling it at the sink as she made idle chatter,
talking about the weather and the phone call she'd had from Bill
Junior the night before.

When the kettle was on, though, she moved to sit across the table
from her daughter, regarding her seriously. "Something's bothering
you, Dana," she said gently. "Is it Fox?"

Scully kept her eyes trained on her hand, which was nervously
plucking at the edge of the placemat lying on the table in front
of her. But she nodded. "I just don't know what to do, Mom," she
whispered.

Mrs. Scully laid her hand over her daughter's and waited until she
lifted her face to look at her. Then, she said, "What happened,
honey?"

Scully slowly closed her eyes and took at deep breath, and Mrs.
Scully squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"He kissed me, Mom," Scully finally said. "When we were at his
Mom's the other day. And I ... I didn't know what to do. I *don't*
know what to do."

When her eyes reopened, they were glistening with moisture, and
Mrs. Scully brought her other hand up to wrap around Scully's. She
waited for Scully to go on, then said, "What do you want to do,
honey?"

Scully's eyes darted away from her mother's probing gaze. "I ... I
don't know," she said, her voice cracking.

Mrs. Scully leaned closer. "Do you love him, Dana?" she asked
softly.

At this, a single tear escaped Scully's eye and rolled down her
cheek. "Yes," she said. "I do. Of course I do. But ... I don't
know if it's ... if I'm in love with him. And I don't know if I
should be."

Mrs. Scully smiled. "Let me tell you a secret, honey," she said in
a conspiratorial tone. When Scully looked at her, she went on. "Fox
loves you, too. And I think he's been in love with you for a long
time."

Scully's eyes closed again. "I ... we can't, Mom," she said
convulsively.

Before Mrs. Scully could respond, the teakettle shrilled, and she
gave Scully's hand one last squeeze before rising to finish making
the tea. As she worked, she could hear Scully struggling to get
her control back, and without looking away from her preparations,
she gave one last comment.

"Don't give up on him, Dana," she said. "You've gone through a lot
together. Don't let your love become an obstacle instead of a
blessing."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scully smile.

==========
Bethesda Naval Hospital
Bethesda, Maryland
10:12 a.m.

Mulder carefully pushed open the door and stepped into the stark
white hospital room, visions of what seemed like hundreds of
similar visits flashing through his mind.

But this time, the sight of the woman in the bed evoked none of
the gut-wrenching emotions brought forth by the women he'd faced
in this condition previously. For while Diana Fowley had once been
an important part of his life, she was now simply a memory,
another part of his past.

The strongest feeling Mulder had was relief -- that it wasn't
Scully in the bed. He was a bit ashamed at the thought, but he
wouldn't let it go. He'd had more than enough of seeing his
partner in hospital beds.

Mulder moved to the side of the bed, his eyes running over the
face of the stricken agent, his former lover. He lowered himself
into a chair and scooted closer, lifting one hand to grasp hers.

He just sat there for a long time, watching Diana sleep and
thinking back over their years together, and the events of the
past week. He felt regret at her condition, and sorrow for her
suffering. But over it all, he couldn't help but be glad he wasn't
sitting beside Scully.

He knew then that he was truly over Diana.

And finally, he spoke.

"Diana," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you were the one
who suffered because I insisted on following through with the
case. And I'm sorry I hurt you when I said I'd done okay without
you. I never wanted any of that to happen."

He watched her for another moment, then continued. "I wanted to
tell you I don't regret our years together. They were wonderful,
for the most part, in spite of how it ended. But I ... I've moved
on, Diana. And I hope you can, too."

He paused again, then leaned closer to her. "I do have some news
for you, Diana. I ... I found Samantha. I saw her last fall,
actually, but I didn't know how to reach her again. But I know
where she is now. She's fine, Diana. She has a life, and a
family." He hesitated, then finished, "And I want to be a part of
that."

He leaned back in his seat, drawing his hand away. He didn't move
for a few minutes, but he felt as if a weight had been lifted from
his shoulders.

He sighed, then slowly rose to his feet. "Get better, Diana," he
said. "And take care."

Then he turned and left, without looking back.

==========
10:32 a.m.

Scully was on her way to the Bureau when she thought about calling
the Gunmen. She pulled out her cell phone and punched in the
numbers, then waited for the familiar answer.

"Good morning, may we help you?" Byers again, Scully thought
thankfully.

"Hi, Byers, it's Scully," she said. "I was just calling to see if you
have any new information."

"Nothing yet, Agent Scully," Byers replied. "We're running
additional tests on the blood samples, and we've sent a few of our
reports to some colleagues to get their opinions. We're
researching Jeffery and Cassandra Spender as well."

"You are?" she responded, sounding puzzled. "I didn't think I'd
mentioned that yet."

"Actually, Mulder did," Byers said, a note of surprise in his
voice. "Frohike spoke to him yesterday afternoon. I assumed you'd
talked about it."

Scully sighed. "No," she said. "I had planned to ask you to do
that today. I guess he just saved me the trouble."

Byers chuckled. "I guess so," he said. "Anyway, we'll give you a
call when he have something." He paused, then said, "Agent Scully,
have you heard about Agent Fowley?"

Scully pursed her lips before she answered. "Not since yesterday,"
she said. "She was still unconscious but apparently doing better.
Mulder's visiting her this morning."

Byers was silent at that news, and Scully forged ahead. "Well, I'm
on my way to the Bureau, so I'll check in later. Bye." She ended
the call quickly.

==========
Bethesda Naval Hospital
10:47 a.m.

Mulder strode across the hospital parking lot toward his car,
ready to head for Samantha's. As he climbed into his car, he
decided to check in with the Gunmen.

"Good morning, may we help you?" Byers' voice came through.

"Byers, it's Mulder," he said. "I was calling to check in about
that information I asked about."

Byers' chuckle was joined by Langly's in the background. "I just
finished talking to Agent Scully about ten minutes ago," Byers
said.

"You guys need to get on the same page," Langly chimed in.

Mulder smirked. "Don't I know it," he muttered under his breath.
In his normal voice, he said, "So what did you find out?"

"Nothing new yet," Byers answered. "I told Scully we'd call when
we have something, unless you'd rather we call you."

Mulder sighed. "No, that's fine, I'll be catching up with her in a
bit."

"All right," Byers said. He hesitated, then said, "Scully said you
were visiting Diana?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way back from Bethesda right now," Mulder said.

"How is she?"

"The same," Mulder said. "Still unconscious, but her vital signs
are improving. The doctors think she might wake up in another few
days."

"That's great news," Byers said.

Then Langly jumped in again. "So what's the deal with you two,
anyway?"

"Diana?" Mulder said. "Diana and I are history, guys. I've got
more important things to worry about."

He ended the call and concentrated on traffic.

==========
Office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner
J. Edgar Hoover FBI building
11:30 a.m.

Scully stepped into Skinner's outer office and smiled at Kimberly.
"Hi, Kimberly," she said. "Is he in?"

"Good morning, Agent Scully," Kimberly said, smiling. "Yes, he's
here. Go on in."

Scully moved to the inner door and rapped twice, hearing the
normal brusque "Come in" from inside. She stepped through the door
and smiled tightly at the AD.

"Agent Scully," he said, rising to his feet. "Please, come in,
have a seat."

"Thank you, sir," Scully replied, moving to sit across the desk
from him.

"I'm glad you came by, Agent Scully," Skinner said as he sat back
down. "I wanted to speak to you about the office."

Scully looked up at him, a questioning look on his face. "Sir?"
she said.

Skinner let out a breath. "As I said before, you and Mulder are
going to be reassigned, although I believe I will be able to keep
you as partners. But I would like to make sure the X-files office
is renovated and ready for the two of you to use if ... *when* the
opportunity arises."

Scully's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Renovated, sir?" she
repeated.

Skinner nodded sharply, his face stern. "I don't intend to let the
X-files die, Agent Scully," he said. "They may have burned the
office, but there's always another way."

Scully raised her chin as she inhaled, then dropped her head back
to level as she blew out the breath, nodding as she met his gaze
again. "Thank you, sir," she said. "I'm sure Agent Mulder will be
grateful. I'll tell him as soon as I see him."

Skinner held the look, then glanced down at his desk. "Was there
something else, Agent Scully?" he asked.

Scully shifted in her seat. "No, sir," she said. "I've checked on
the blood testing, and we don't have results yet. I mainly wanted
to check in with you, and to ask if you had any more information
on our assignments, but you've already answered that question."

Skinner nodded, then leaned back in his chair and slid his glasses
off before raising his eyes back to hers. "Agent Scully," he said.
"I don't know the status of your ... personal relationship with
Agent Mulder -- and frankly, I don't want to know right now. But I
feel compelled to remind you that you will be watched closely for
some time now, whether or not you remain as partners. There are
people who will be looking for any reason to get one or both of
you out of the way."

Scully knew he was right, but her pursed lips were the only
outward reaction she showed to his comment. "Thank you, sir," she
said. "I'll keep that in mind."

Skinner simply looked at her, then said, "That'll be all."

She nodded in reply, stood, and left.


===================
Chapter 15: Healing
===================

Home of Rick and Samantha Carson
Gaithersburg, Maryland
Friday, May 29, 1998
12:05 p.m.

Mulder pulled up in front of Samantha's, shut off his car, and
just sat, staring at the house. She's right there, he thought,
still amazed that his sister was finally back in his life.

Shaking himself free of his reverie, he climbed from the car and
headed up the walkway. He was about halfway there when another car
pulled up, and he turned to see Jeffery Spender climbing out of
the car.

"Agent Mulder," Spender called, walking in his direction. "May I
speak with you for a moment?"

Mulder nodded, placing his hands on his hips in an automatic
defensive stance. "What can I do for you, Agent Spender?" he said
blandly.

Spender stopped in front of him, then glanced down at his shoetops
before speaking. "I need to apologize to you, Agent Mulder," he
said. "I should have done it sooner, but I want to say I'm sorry
for the antagonism I've shown in the past."

Mulder remained silent, and Spender raised his head to meet his
gaze. "I'm afraid my mother's abduction stories have affected my
view of the whole situation," Spender said. "I still don't believe
that aliens are involved with this, but I know *something* is
going on."

At this, Mulder nodded slowly. "*Something* is going on, Spender,"
he said. "The question I have is, what do you know about it?"

Spender stiffened slightly. "I don't know any more than I've
already told you," he said tightly. "I want to find out what's
going on as much as you do. I want to find my mother."

Mulder paused, then relaxed a bit. "Apology accepted, Agent
Spender," he said. "And I apologize for being so ... abrupt. I
realize you have a personal interest in this as much as I do."

"More than I knew," Spender said, and a thread of understanding
passed between the two men.

"Fox? Jeff?" The men turned to see Samantha standing at the front
door. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Hi Sam," Mulder said. "Nothing's wrong. We were just ...
talking."

Spender smiled at her. "I just needed to speak to Agent Mulder for
a moment. I can't stay, but I'll see you soon."

He turned to Mulder, hesitated, then held out his hand. "I'm
looking forward to working with you, Agent Mulder," he said.

Mulder looked at him for a long moment, then reached out and shook
the hand. "Good talking to you, Agent Spender."

Spender turned back toward his car, and Mulder moved toward the
house. He offered Samantha a smile as he mounted the steps, and
was mildly surprised when she pulled him into a hug.

"Hi, Fox," she said. "Come on in. We were just about to sit down
to lunch."

"I don't want to impose ..." Mulder started, but Samantha cut him
off with a wave.

"Oh, Fox, you should know it's no imposition," she said. "You're
family."

Family. Mulder felt a wave of emotions build in him at the
single word, and he smiled slowly before following Samantha
toward the kitchen.

==========
Scully's apartment
1:45 p.m.

Scully looked up from her computer when she heard the knock on
her door, and she pulled off her glasses as she walked over to
look out.

Mulder, of course, she thought, releasing the latch to let him
in.

"Hey, Scully," Mulder said with a grin, stepping in as she moved
back from the doorway. He didn't speak again as she shut and
re-latched the door, and she turned to look up at him quizzically.

"Is something wrong, Mulder?" she asked.

Mulder continued to grin. "No," he said. "Why would anything be
wrong?"

Scully found herself starting to return his grin, and she turned
to walk over to the sofa. "Well, you look like the proverbial cat
who ate the canary," she said, pulling one leg under her as she
sat down. "So I know something's up."

His grin impossibly widened as he moved to sit at the opposite end
of the couch, stretching one arm along the top edge of the
cushioned back. "Just a little bit of an epiphany," he said
cryptically. "Nothing to worry about."

Before Scully could ask, Mulder went on. "I just came from Sam's,
and we're going to start easing off on the protection," he said.
"And Mom's going back home on Monday, but only long enough to make
plans to sell the house. She's going to move down here."

Scully was surprised. "That's great news," she said. "You'll have
your whole family right here."

Mulder's expression softened. "And that's just what the epiphany
was about," he said. "I have a family again."

Scully smiled in understanding. "It's been a long time, hasn't
it?" she asked gently.

Mulder nodded, his expression sobering. "It's going to take some
getting used to," he said. "I've spent so much of my life alone,
and now to have them around again ..." His voice trailed off as
his eyes squeezed shut, fighting back the tears that threatened.

Scully slid toward him on the sofa, moving her hand to lie atop
his where it sat along the back cushions. "I'm so glad, Mulder,"
she whispered. "You deserve a little happiness."

Mulder's eyes flew open and landed on hers, then twisted his hand
to intertwine their fingers. "We both do," he said. "After
everything we've been through ..." His voice trailed off as Scully
dropped her eyes from his, and he tightened his hold on her hand.
"Scully, we're going to talk about this," he said. "I may have
found Samantha, but I still want to find the answers you need.
Because I need it, too."

He moved closer to her on the sofa, reaching out his free hand to
grasp her chin and lift her face so he could see her eyes.
"Scully," he said, pausing to search her face. "I hope you know
how I feel about you."

She stared at him, then dropped her eyes. "I think so," she said,
tentatively. "And ... and I hope you know ..."

"I do," he said, moving his hand to cup her cheek. "I ... I
realized yesterday that ... that you were hurting. Because of
Diana."

He could see her face starting to close to him and shook his head
sharply. "No, don't shut me out, Scully," he pleaded. "Just
listen, please." She froze, then nodded once.

He leaned in closer. "Diana was ... a big part of my life for
several years. We had a lot in common, but that wasn't enough.
And in the end, that was what split us up, personally and
professionally. We believed in a lot of the same things, but
because of that, we didn't dig deep enough. With you, it's
different. We don't agree on our beliefs, but that helps us
complement each other. You make me work to prove my theories,
instead of just accepting them at face value."

He smiled softly. "I told Diana last week that you ... you're a
challenge to me. And you know I love a challenge."

Her eyes widened in shock, and he realized what he'd said,
indirectly. His face turned serious, and he released her hand
and brought his other hand up to cradle her face between his
palms. "Scully," he said. "I ..."

Just then, Scully's phone rang, breaking the spell. They froze,
searching each other's eyes, until Mulder lifted one corner of
his mouth. "Figures," he murmured.

Scully dropped her eyes and pulled away, reaching for the phone
on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" she said, her voice a little shaky.

"Agent Scully," Skinner said. "Is Agent Mulder with you?"

Scully's eyebrows raised slightly as she swallowed, and her gaze
flitted to Mulder briefly before falling back to the floor. "Yes,
sir," she replied, a slight question in her voice.

"Good," Skinner said. "I'm calling to tell you your new
assignments have been approved."

Her stomach tightened. "Sir?" she asked.

"You and Mulder will be assigned to Violent Crimes -- as
partners," Skinner said. "The positions are waiting for you
whenever you're ready to come back."

Scully let her breath out in relief, but Skinner went on. "As I
said before, I will continue to direct to you any cases I feel
you would have investigated under the X-files. You should also
feel free to bring other possible cases to my attention."

Scully nodded. "Thank you, sir," she said.

Skinner paused, then said, "I must warn you again, you will both
have to step carefully for some time -- professionally, and
personally as well. And your ... *alternate* cases cannot
interfere with your regular VC assignments, or you'll lose even
that right."

Scully nodded again. "Yes, sir, I understand," she said. "I will
relay that to Agent Mulder."

"Fine, Agent Scully," Skinner said. "Please let me know as soon
as possible when you will be returning to work."

"Yes, sir," Scully repeated. "Thank you, sir."

The connection was broken, and Scully set the phone down before
turning back to Mulder. He was watching her intently, the
questions in his eyes.

Scully moved back toward him, stopping a couple of feet away.
"That was Skinner," she said unnecessarily, and he nodded. "He
said we have been reassigned to Violent Crimes -- as partners."

Mulder let out a sigh of relief, his eyes closing briefly before
reopening to pin her. "The X-files?" he asked.

She sighed. "The X-files remain closed, officially," she said.
"But Skinner said he will be directing appropriate cases to us,
and that we may bring him any cases we wish to investigate.
Provided, of course, that the investigations do not interfere
with our regular VC assignments."

Mulder nodded. "That's more than I expected at this point," he
said. He looked at her thoughtfully for another moment, then
reached out to grasp her hand and pull her towards him.

She resisted. "Mulder, there's one other thing," she said. He
looked up at her quizzically, and she said, "Skinner said we
should tread lightly not just professionally ... but personally
as well."

Mulder's brow furrowed. "Does he ... did you tell ..."

"He doesn't know about what happened at your mother's," she said.
"He told me the other day that he doesn't want to know the, um,
'status of our personal relationship,' I believe is the way he put
it. But he told me we would be watched closely for some time now,
and not just on the job. We may still be partners, but if we
aren't careful -- and not just on the job -- we won't even have
that."

Mulder nodded slowly, his eyes still on her, then tugged at her
hand again, pulling her back down on the sofa next to him. She
went willingly but stayed several inches away, not looking at him.

Mulder took her other hand and turned toward her slightly before
speaking. "Scully," he said. When she still didn't look at him,
he said. "Scully, look at me."

She lifted her head, and when their eyes met he could read the
fear and longing there. He squeezed her hands, then said, "I
can't tell you how glad I am that we'll still be partners."

Scully dipped her head, then looked up at him again. "Me, too,"
she said softly, receiving a soft smile as her reward.

Mulder released one hand and moved his arm to wrap around her
shoulder, pulling her into him. "It will work out fine, Scully,"
he said into her hair. "We don't have to rush into anything. We
can take this as slowly as we need to." He paused, then said,
"But no matter what else happens, you will always be my partner.
I couldn't have anyone else."

He felt her smile against his shoulder.


========
Epilogue
========

More than 25 years ago, I dedicated my life to a quest I have held
as dear as any crusade in history. And, like so many before me,
when my quest was completed, I was left without purpose or
direction.

My sister was returned, but I was nearly lost. I had found many of
the answers about her disappearance, even if the proof was hard to
come by. My biggest questions were answered, even if it was only
to my satisfaction.

But I didn't know where to turn next. I was starting to drift.

Only one thing has held me grounded, has kept me from falling off
this earth. The same thing that guided me through the hardest days
of my quest, always by my side, always believing in me.

Scully.

She is my new Grail.

With my life's crusade at an end, I have rededicated my life to
her. Not in pursuit of her; that I need not undertake, since she
has told me, without words, that I already have her, for as long
as I want her.

And I want her forever.

Instead, I will support her as she has supported me, guide her
along her own crusade, helping her to find her own answers.

Her abduction. Her cancer. Her lost daughter.

As my search became hers, so, too, has her search become mine.

We are one.

And we remain.