See part 1 for disclaimer

"DYING WISH"
by Frankcina Glass aka DYNOJET@aol.com


Chapter 6


January 27
Summit Building Parking Deck
8:10 p.m.

     It had been a few days since that last memorable chat with Dana
Scully. Mulder had attempted to call several times. He left apologetic
messages on her answering machine, but never received a reply in
return. Trying her cell phone number, he found it to be out of service
and attempting to reach her at work, he was told simply that she was
away from her desk. He could take a hint. She didn't want to talk to
him. He hated for it to end on such a sour note, but he respected her
decision and gave up the pursuit.

     It was late in the evening, a long day at work ending with his
Close Encounters group. Mulder made his way down to the parking deck
where only a few cars were still in residence. His own silver-blue
Lexus was  easy to spot. He clicked the alarm off as he approached it,
then nearly jumped out of his skin as a man stepped out suddenly from
behind a nearby concrete pillar.

     "Holy shit!" Mulder exclaimed as his heart pounded fiercely in
his chest.

     "Sorry," said the man in a nonchalant tone, "I didn't mean to
startle you, Dr. Mulder."

     "Then what WERE your intentions and who the hell are you?"

     "I'm someone who's been following your work."

     "Oh, a shrink groupie. You should see someone about that."

     "I have something for you, Dr. Mulder."

     Mulder studied the man momentarily. He wore a well tailored suit,
stood close to six feet tall, with wavy, graying hair and perhaps
sixty years of laugh lines etched into his features. Somehow, Mulder
got the  impression that this man knew the smoker, but this newcomer
didn't appear to be as threatening as the other. Still, when he held
out what he had for him, Mulder was slow to accept it. Only when the
man smiled at him with a fatherly charm did Mulder take the index card
from his hand.

     "What is this?" Mulder asked after reading what was on the card.

     "It's a location where you can find answers."

     "What are the questions?"

     "What may have happened to Agent Scully's sister for one."

     "You know what happened to her?"

     "I should warn you that you only have about ten hours to get to
the location before it's sealed off again."

     "I don't understand."

     "The building has been undergoing extensive fumigation. The
process was completed today, and at six tomorrow morning, the
occupants will return and it will be business as usual."

     "Why give this to me? Why not give it to Agent Scully?"

     "I thought perhaps you might be interested in finding some
answers for your Close Encounters group as well."

     "What do you know about them?"

     "I know you don't have much time to make your flight." From his
inside jacket pocket the man pulled out a plane ticket and offered it
to the doctor.

     Mulder accepted it curiously, then took a look at the time and
destination. "You expect me to just drop everything and go dashing off
to New Mexico and you won't even tell me who you are or what this is
all  about?"

     "You're wasting time, Dr. Mulder and I'm risking a lot just
standing here talking to you. I've given you all I dare for now. You
choose for yourself what to do with it." He turned and started to walk
away, but  remembered one important detail. "Oh, by the way, Dr.
Mulder, they can still hear you and Agent Scully. Be careful of what
you say and where you are when you say it."

     He walked away with brisk, determined steps after that, leaving
Mulder with even more unvoiced questions. He glanced at the plane
ticket in his hand again, realizing he had only an hour before
departure.  Not enough time to go home and pack an overnight bag. He
felt foolish even considering taking the man up on his clandestine
offer. It could be some kind of a trap. But his gut instincts kicked
in and he felt that as  much as the Smoking Man seemed a dangerous
element, the man he had just met was probably a necessary ally.

---------

Roswell, New Mexico
Deserted Warehouse

     His benefactor must have been very sure of himself when he had
approached Mulder back in the office parking lot. Not only had he
taken care of the plane reservations, but Mulder also found a reserved
rental car waiting for him when he got to New Mexico. He followed the
directions on the card the man had given him and about six hours after
their meeting, found himself parking in the rear outside of a desolate
warehouse miles from any other civilization. He shined a flashlight at
the high fence topped with barbed wire that barred his entrance.
Scratching his head for a moment, he came up with an idea and reached
back into the rental. He pulled out the two front floor mats and
carefully threw and positioned them over the barbed wire. With a good
deal of effort and concentration, he was able to climb over and clear
the fence without so much as snagging a thread of his coat. So far,
this cloak and dagger stuff was kind of exciting.

     The rear door was locked with a combination keypad. Mulder took
out the card which had led him there and punched in the sequence of
numbers provided. The door clicked open and he stepped inside. He was
faced with a metal stairwell with no place to go but up. The first
door he came to led to a long corridor with recessed doors on both
sides, about twelve feet apart. He tried the handle on the first few
doors but all were  locked. They seemed to use a variation of the
electronic lock on the rear door which he had entered, but the only
combination number he had did not work on any of the doors he tried.
They all displayed a bright red  button, the only available light
other than his flashlight and the exit sign. As he continued down the
hall, he noticed that one door's light was green. It opened easily
under his touch.

     Once again he got the feeling that he was being set up for
something. He questioned why he was here, why he listened to a total
stranger and rushed to catch a plane without so much as telling anyone
where he  was headed or why. He still hadn't figured out why he was
doing this. Of course, he was curious about what had happened to Agent
Scully and her sister, and his patients, but to possibly jeopardize
his life and career  by breaking and entering may not be the smartest
thing he'd ever done. But he was here now so he figured he might as
well try to find some answers if indeed there were any to be found.   

     On the other side of the door was a long corridor housing a
monstrous filing system containing wall to wall cabinets of drawers
categorized by alphabet. Mulder trotted down towards the end of the
corridor and  found a  drawer with 'Sa-Se' marked on it. He flipped
through the file folders inside and came upon two with the last name
of Scully. One belonged to Dana and contained nothing more than a few
forms which stated her vital statistics and health status. On the
first sheet in the folder in bold red letters was the word 'Reject.' 
Mulder took a look at Melissa's folder and found the same type of
documents in it along with a few more  concerning some applied tests.
Stamped in red on the front of her file was the word 'Terminated.'
Mulder wondered if that meant the testing had been terminated or the
test subject. He got his answer when he read  on and saw the final
comment hand-written on the last page in the folder.

     He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall of
cabinets. He didn't really know what he had expected to find, but this
was not it. They had taken a twelve year old girl away from her
family, exposed her to God knows what and coldly documented the fact
that she had not survived the second round of testing. Mulder drew in
a deep breath and shook off the pain and bitterness he felt creeping
into his soul. He took a couple of the papers from the folder and
stuffed them into his pocket. He moved on, systematically looking for
the names of the patients in his Close Encounters group. One by one he
located them all, and each were classified as 'Ongoing'.

     "Who the hell are these people?" he wondered aloud. Who could
have the power -- not to mention the audacity -- to organize such a
nefarious campaign; to carelessly manipulate innocent people and treat
them  as insignificant guinea pigs? He had already begun to speculate,
but still found the whole concept so unimaginable. He desperately
wished that aliens HAD been the culprit, but all that he'd witnessed
so far, reeked of mankind. Before moving on, Mulder took a quick look
through the 'M's just in case. He nearly giggled in relief when he saw
that the drawer was Mulderless.

--------

January, 31
Washington D.C.
7:33 p.m.

     Driving home from the Hoover Building, Scully had become aware of
a car following her. She had given the other driver several
opportunities to bypass her, but each time she slowed, she could see
the vehicle  matching her speed. She knew better than to head straight
home. She didn't want whoever it was to see where she lived and
attempt an attack either once she arrived or later when she least
expected it. Of course,  she was well armed and competent in
self-defense but she was smart enough to avoid becoming a victim. She
chose an early exit and pulled into a well-lit and busy gas station on
the corner. She parked in front of  one of the pumps and hurried into
the convenience store. As she suspected, her shadow chose to make a
pit stop as well. She casually glanced through the window while
pretending to choose from a wide array of snack foods.

     The unfamiliar Ford Escort parked in a space furthest from the
store in the darkest part of the lot. Scully strained to get a good
look at the driver as he exited the vehicle, but it was too dark for a
clear view. Then  she became sidetracked when a small child -- a
towheaded boy no more than four-years-old -- tugged on her hand and
asked for help in reaching a package of Popsicles from the freezer.
The child's mother was already  at the cash register and yelling for
her son to hurry up and get what he wanted so they could go. Scully
curbed her annoyance at the mother and smiled at the boy as she handed
him what he pointed to. The boy trotted back towards the front of the
store as Scully turned her attention back towards the window. She
gasped in surprise to see a man leaning over and peering into her car,
his back to her and the store.

     Scully reacted lightning fast. Pulling her gun from its holster,
she dashed outside and made her presence known.

     "Hold it right there! FBI. Put your hands on top of your head,
spread your feet apart and lean forward onto the car."

     The tall figure didn't argue. He could see her reflection in the
car window and he knew she meant business. Scully cautiously
approached and patted the man down for weapons. Satisfied that he was
clean, she backed up slightly and instructed him to turn around
slowly. Mulder turned to face her, almost too intimidated to breathe
unless she gave the word.

     "Dr. Mulder?"

     "Am I under arrest?" he asked nervously.

     Scully shook her head and blew out a relieved sigh as she put
away her gun. "That was you following me?"

     He lowered his hands and breathed again. "Yeah, I thought you saw
it was me. I was going to pump your gas for you, if you needed it
pumped."

     "Why were you looking into my car just then?"

     "Oh, I noticed your cassette tapes. So, you're a Michael Bolton
fan, huh? I don't believe I've actually met one before."

     "Why were you following me?"

     "I wanted to talk to you."

     "That's what telephones are for."

     "I've been trying to reach you since last Monday. You haven't
returned my calls."

     "I've been out of town all week on a case. As a matter of fact, I
just got back a couple of hours ago. I went straight to the office
from the airport. And now I'm on my way home, and I'm very tired, so
if you'll excuse me...."

     "So you don't need me to pump gas?"

     "No, I don't. Thank you." She brushed by him on the way to the
driver's side of the car.

     "I have something important to tell you."

     "Call me tomorrow."

     "I believe it's something you'd rather hear face to face. Have
you eaten? I noticed there's a pizza place down the road there."

     She sighed again. Dammit, she WAS hungry. She knew there wasn't
anything at home to cook, not that she even felt like cooking. She had
planned on stopping off at a fast food place anyway. She nodded
silently  in compliance to his suggestion and led the way in her car
to the pizzeria two blocks away. Fifteen minutes later, she was
sitting across from her ex-doctor in a booth with a large, sausage
pizza with extra cheese,  between them.

     "So you really didn't know it was me?" asked Mulder after
finishing off his first slice of pizza. "Not even when I got out of
the car?"

     "Well I never got a clear look at you from the front and I didn't
recognize the car. Where's your Lexus?"

     "I swapped with my sister. She had some kind of fancy dinner
function to attend and she didn't have time to wash and clean out her
car and she didn't want to ride on the back of her date's
motorcycle."

     "Well, you gave me a little scare there, especially when I saw
you leaning over and peering into my car."

     "I gave YOU a scare?" Mulder snorted. "I'm just thankful I have
such excellent bladder control."

     He was happy to see her smile for the first time that evening. He
hated to spoil her good mood, but he had plenty to tell her. However,
before he began, there was one important matter he had to take care of
first. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small
electronic device that looked like a garage door opener. He purposely
chose a moment while she was tearing off another bite of pizza with
her teeth. With her mouth occupied, she couldn't ask what he was up
to. He put an index finger up to his lips to signify to her to both
keep quiet and be patient. She watched silently, with highly arched
brows as he pointed the  gizmo in her direction. He took a few seconds
to check his little gadget, then pointed it to the left side of Scully
where she had stashed her coat and purse beside her on the bench. She
noticed a dim, flickering green  light appear and showed even more
interest when the doctor picked up her coat and scanned it with the
gadget. Not getting the results he wanted, he pointed to her handbag,
and she silently handed it over to him. When he pointed the scanner at
the purse, the green light became brighter but still flickered.

     'You mind?" Mulder asked before opening the bag.

     Scully was more intrigued than bashful about the contents of her
purse. She gave him quiet permission to continue. Mulder opened the
bag and carefully dumped the contents onto the table. He scanned the
items with the electronic device until the green light became steady
and bright. He picked up her compact and opened the top. It looked
completely normal. Mulder picked up a fingernail file and used the
metal tip to pry open the bottom of the case. Pleased with himself,
but at the same time disgusted with what he found, he showed Scully
the listening device that had been hiding beneath her makeup.

     Stunned, then furious, Scully felt like screaming at the top of
her lungs just so whoever was listening might end up with a broken
eardrum. But she managed to remain calm and scoop her belongings back
into  her purse. Taking the compact from Mulder, she informed him that
she had to go to the ladies' room. She returned one minute later, the
anger not quite as evident on her face.

     "Looks like I'll have to buy a new compact. I accidentally
dropped my old one in the sink while the water was running."

     "That's a shame," said Mulder, matter-of-factly.

     "That's a neat little gadget you have there," said Scully, eyeing
the device as it lay on the table.

     "Yeah, it's good for home, office and car. If you'd like to
borrow it...."

     Scully easily got his meaning and accepted the bug finder with a
tired smile. "Thank you."

     "I apologize," said Mulder.

     "For what? That wasn't your doing."

     "No, not that.  I was apologizing for frightening you this
evening and for upsetting you the last time we spoke."

     "You didn't upset me," Scully lied.

     "Well, judging by the skid marks you left in my driveway, I
thought I had."

     Scully blushed with minor embarrassment. "It's just that... I
just never met anyone who actually believed in flying saucers and
spacemen. And coming from you of all people, it just threw me for a
loop."

     "You thought I was crazy?"

     Scully merely shrugged and shoved another bite of pizza into her
mouth to keep from giving a verbal response.

     "Everyone has their little peccadilloes, but I believe now that I
did indeed jump to conclusions involving not only you but my Close
Encounters group as well."

     Scully perked up and took notice when he said that. "Are you
saying that all of a sudden you don't believe in little green men?"

     Mulder downed a big swig of his tea before answering. "I had a
visitor the other night. He met me in the garage at my office building
when I was getting ready to go home. Much like our smoking friend, he
seemed to know a great deal about me and about you. But unlike Smoky,
this man seems interested in helping, not harming. He gave me a round
trip plane ticket and an index card with a location on it. I ended up
at a government operated facility in New Mexico."

     He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out several sheets
of paper folded together. Pushing the pizza slightly to the side, he
made some room on the table to open up the small stack of papers and
smooth  them out in front of Scully.

     "I found evidence that indicates that all of the members of my
group HAVE been abducted, but not by aliens. These are some forms I
found. The place was packed full of these filing cabinets that must
have held in the hundreds of thousands of file folders on individuals.
People who were experimented on over a period of years without their
knowledge."

     Scully shook her head and grunted in disbelief. He had apparently
jumped from one conclusion right into another. "How could anyone be
experimented on for a period of years without their knowledge?"      

     "I feel that they were probably hypnotized into believing that
they had been abducted by aliens. I also conclude that they were given
that post-hypnotic suggestion so that if they ever did try to tell
someone what had been happening to them, no one would believe them."

     "But you believed them," Scully pointed out.

     "Which is the reason I think I was specifically chosen."

     "Chosen?"

     "The man who brought all of this to my attention, told me that he
had been following my work. I don't think it's a mere coincidence that
those five people found their way to me. The first one I've known for
three years. She claims to have been abducted twice since she's been
seeing me. One of those times she was missing for a three day period,
the second one was for a whole week. I think during her time with her
abductors, she must have mentioned my name, or perhaps they had been
watching her closely all along. At any rate, and despite the
abductions, she was doing quite well mentally under my care. So others
were sent to me to look after. Maybe it was the fact that I was
feeding into their psychosis, as you put it. I think someone wanted to
keep it that way."

     Scully wasn't sure how she felt about what he'd just told her. It
sounded slightly better than the alien abduction theory but it also
sounded extremely paranoid. She inquisitively leafed through the
documents he had laid before her. It appeared as though he had merely
grabbed a handful of incomplete forms from different areas. She saw a
number of dates, the mention of injections with a compound name she
didn't recognize along with blood and urine analysis that didn't quite
add up.

     "I understand what you're saying, but I think you're still
jumping to conclusions. To think that our government is conspiring to
do secret tests on the general population --"

     "Secret government testing has gone on for years using select
pockets of minorities, the poor and mental health patients, even
American soldiers. Ever hear of the Tuskeegee Study, the Philadelphia
Experiment, Agent Orange?" 

     Scully looked at him, unable to argue with him on those counts.
"Okay, so someone's doing some testing on unsuspecting people.
Obviously, something needs to be done about it. I could run a
background check on the facility if you have the name of it for me."

     "No, it didn't have a name. I'm not so sure it even has an
address. I had been provided with detailed directions of how to get to
it, but there was no indication of a road even leading in that
direction on the local  map."

     "Makes it a little hard to check out then," said Scully. "I'm not
so sure how we should proceed now."

     The fact that she had used the word "we" had not escaped him. He
smiled lightly knowing that she no longer feared him and had basically
deemed him her partner in this. He watched her wipe her hands on a 
napkin and push away the small plate which held the remnants of her
second slice of pizza.

     "Would you like something else?" he asked. "How about some ice
cream for dessert?"

     Scully grinned and shook her head. "You know, if I keep hanging
around you, I'm going to be as big as a house. Why do you enjoy
watching me eat so much?"

     She caught him by surprise with that question. With raised brows,
he asked, "What... uh, what makes you think I enjoy watching you
eat?"

     "How many of our little get-togethers so far have involved
chewing? You said that I reminded you of your late wife. Is that why
you're always trying to feed me?"

     Mulder was mute for a moment, taking in her words and carefully
processing them. "I uh... I really hadn't noticed. I just...."

     When his words faltered miserably, Scully could see that he
actually had not been keenly aware of what she considered to be
ulterior motives. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, not knowing what else
to say for putting her foot in her mouth.

     He didn't like having the focus on himself, so Mulder abruptly
changed the subject. "I have something else to tell you," he stated in
a rather ominous tone.

     "What is it?"

     Mulder got up and crossed to the other side of the booth so that
he could sit close beside her on the cushioned bench. From a different
pocket he pulled out two more folded sheets of paper. Before handing 
them over to her, he paused to explain.

     "I came across two more names I recognized in those files. I have
a lot more documents at home. I haven't had time to go through them
all but from what I could tell, many children were taken, especially
young girls. They apparently had to meet certain criteria." He gave
her the top sheet of paper and time to study it. "Apparently, you were
deemed undersized."

      Scully's eyes grew wide and damp as realization began taking
root. "And my sister?" she whispered.

     "Your sister Melissa was more of what they were looking for.
Unfortunately, she uh... she didn't survive the second set of tests."

     Scully silently accepted the creased paper which held the answers
to her sister's fate. She stared at the words blankly, seeing only the
ones that mentioned her sister by name and the date which would end up
on  her tombstone. She had always known the odds of discovering her
sister was already deceased was a good ninety-nine percent
probability. Even her family had pronounced her dead and planted a
headstone for her in  the family plot. But Scully had never given up
completely. She had wanted and needed proof of her non-existence. Now
finally, she had what she thought she had wanted all those years.

     "I'm very sorry," someone with a deep, velvety voice murmured
into her ear.


---- End Part 6/10----

See part 1 for disclaimer

"DYING WISH"
by Frankcina Glass aka DYNOJET@aol.com


Chapter 7

February, 3
FBI Headquarters
11:21 a.m.

     When Assistant Director Walter Skinner returned to his office
after a trip to the men's room, he found an unwelcome stench and its
owner claiming the spot behind his desk.

     "What the hell do you want?" Skinner growled.

     "I've been looking over the report filed by Agent Scully," said
the man through a cloud of cigarette smoke. "She's made some pretty
outrageous claims here."

     Skinner resisted the urge to snatch the file folder away from the
Smoking Man and drop-kick his ass out of the office. The bastard was
unfortunately his superior and although he hated him with a passion,
the A.D. was forced to show him a modicum of respect

     "Why should that interest you?" he responded.

     "It should interest you as well, that is if you value Agent
Scully's life."

     "What do you mean by that?"

     "There are individuals in high places who would not take kindly
to having their pet projects scrutinized or made public."

     "Then you're saying that there's some truth to her report?"

     "I'm saying that you should do all that you can to dissuade her
from investigating the matter further. It would be in her best
interest. Trust me."

--------

     Agent Scully had high hopes when her boss summoned her to his
office. But upon entering, she grimaced at the lingering odor of
cigarette smoke failing to be completely camouflaged by a room
deodorizer. She  knew that Skinner didn't smoke and she silently
guessed who his last visitor had been.

     "You wanted to see me sir?"

     "Have a seat, Agent Scully." He waited a moment as she sat in a
chair across from him, and fingered the opened file folder that lay in
front of him on his desk. "I've gone over your report and I find the
claims made  within to be highly suspect."

     "But sir --"

     He put a hand up to silence her. "I'm not finished. This Dr.
Mulder stands a good chance of facing trespassing and burglary
charges. I want you to make him aware of that."

     "Yes, sir. But what he's uncovered --"

     "Deserves to be investigated thoroughly. And it will be."

     Scully relaxed at those words and nearly smiled in relief. "Thank
you, sir. Where do we begin?"

     "I don't want you involved with the investigation. You're too
close to it. I'm placing Agent Krychek in charge for now."

     "Agent Krychek? But --"

     "Do you have a problem with my decision, Agent Scully?"

     Hell yes, she had a problem with it, but she couldn't let him
know that. Actually, she was almost certain that he already knew. Why
else would he ask? Then she thought of the telltale smoke in the air
and realized  that her supervisor had been gotten to. With Krychek
heading up the investigation, she knew that there would be no
investigation.

     "No, sir. I don't have a problem. I think Agent Krychek is an
excellent choice."

     "That's all for now, Agent Scully. I'll keep you apprised of the
progress made."

     "Thank you, sir."

     As she stood to leave, the A.D. left her with a parting line.
"And, Agent Scully, I'm very sorry about your sister."

     She looked at him, seeing the sternness leave his features to be
replaced with soft eyes that spoke of deep regret. For just a moment,
she was able to believe in him. She nodded her acceptance of his
regards, then turned away and exited the room.  

     Scully returned to her office, immediately picked up the phone
and placed a call. "Hi, Libby," she spoke into the receiver, "this is
Dana Scully. I'd like to make an appointment to see Dr. Mulder."

     Libby cheerfully asked her to hold, then moments later a male
voice came on the line. "Hi, Dana, how are you?"

     "Oh, Dr. Mulder. I was just trying to make an appointment with
Libby to see you."

     "Yeah, she mentioned that. I told her if you called to put you on
through."

     "Are you with a patient right now?"

     "Yes, but he's not exactly the most talkative of people. I think
I can afford to take a little break from our staring contest. You
don't mind, do you, Barry?"

     His patient was a heavily-tattooed, nineteen-year-old, dressed in
torn black clothing with rings and chains inserted and dangling from
various body parts. When addressed by his doctor, his only reply was a
middle  finger held high and a scowl.

     "No, he doesn't mind at all," Mulder informed Scully. "So how
have you been?"

     "I need to talk to you. But not over the phone. When can I come
in?"

     "Are you free this afternoon? My four o'clock Fear of Commitment
group canceled on me again."

     "I have nothing else pressing at the moment."

     "Good. Look, I'm tired of being cooped up in the office, despite
having such gracious company." Mulder threw a casual glance to Barry
and was rewarded with another finger salute. "Why don't we meet
somewhere? You pick the place."

--------

National Museum of Art
4:15 p.m.

     The place Scully picked didn't serve food, so at least she didn't
have to worry about trying to get her thoughts across with her mouth
full. When she arrived in the lobby of the museum, she wasn't
surprised to find her doctor already there and waiting for her.
Actually, he had become so enthralled in a series of African American
photographs that he wasn't even aware of her approach.

     "They're beautiful," she commented softly, suddenly standing at
his side and catching him by surprise.

     "Oh, hi. Yeah, I like them too. Especially the one with the
little girls jumping rope."

     "Double Dutch," said Scully. "When I was that age, I could barely
jump ONE rope at a time, much less two."

     "Dana, are you saying that white girls can't jump?" Mulder
laughed.

     Scully rolled her eyes at his joke though she couldn't completely
hold back the faintest of smiles.

     Mulder turned away from the photographs and placed his full
attention on Scully. "So I'm your doctor again, huh?"

     "I need someone to talk to and I don't want to have to start all
over with someone else."

     "I don't want you to either. So tell me, what's wrong?"

     "My boss turned the investigation over to Krychek."

     Mulder understood the implications immediately but was at a lost
for words at the moment. When other patrons approached to view the
display they stood in front of, Mulder gently guided his companion out
of  the way and they began a slow walk down the corridor.

     "When he called me to his office to tell me," Scully continued,
"I smelled cigarette smoke in the air, but the A.D. doesn't smoke.
They're going to pretend to investigate, but they'll make sure that
they won't ever  find anything. Skinner even wanted me to remind you
that you might be facing charges of trespassing and burglary. I hate
letting them get away with this, but I'm not sure what to do now. I
don't know where else to  turn."

     "You remember I told you that I had a lot more documents at home?
Well, I have some friends...acquaintances really. Actually, one of
them is an ex-patient of mine. I won't say which one, but at any rate,
they publish an underground newsletter called The Lone Gunman. It has
to do with government conspiracies and cover-ups. They act as kind of
a watchdog, tracking how the government supposedly REALLY works. Now
some of their theories are really OUT there and smacks of paranoia to
the tenth power. But these guys are highly educated and well-connected
. I gave them the rest of the documents to check out. I gave them a
call before coming over. I think they may have something for us."

--------

     It was a fairly small house in a lower, middle-class neighborhood
that Mulder drove Scully to. It was furnished in wall-to-wall
high-tech electronics and a few chairs. The three men that Mulder
introduced her to  looked like an absurdly mixed-match trio. The one
she considered as normal-looking, with a neat beard and mustache and
dressed in a suit and tie was named Byers. His counterparts were
Langly, a long-haired hippie of the nineties; and Frohike, a short,
older man with bushy brows and lecherous eyes. Scully shook hands with
each of the men and offered a pleasant smile in greeting. Frohike held
on to her hand and led her to a chair.

     "I see no rings on your finger, Miss Scully. Would that indicate
that you are quite available for dating and such?" he inquired as she
sat.

     "Down, Frohike," Mulder warned. "I saw her first. And you know
how I feel about sharing."

     Frohike reluctantly backed off but not without a final word in
the redhead's ear. "If you get tired of those boyish good looks and
charm, come check out a REAL man."

      Scully could only nod as she bit gently on her bottom lip to
keep from spitting out a laugh. She had a pretty good idea now which
one had been a patient of Dr. Mulder's.

     "So what did you guys find out?" asked Mulder standing near the
door while everyone else sat.

     Byers, acting as the collective mouthpiece for the group, started
the report by pressing a button on his computer. "The first thing we
did was run the list of names through the IRS, Social Security, the
National Census and Missing Persons data bases. We found that out of
the forty-seven names on the list, twenty-nine of them are confirmed
deceased -- through a variety of causes -- and the rest are considered
missing,  possibly deceased. Now, we've broken it down a bit more and
found that all the ones that are still missing are females who were
between the ages of twelve and fifteen at the time of their
disappearance all between eighteen and twenty years ago."

     "It looked like there was some kind of testing going on," said
Mulder. "What did you find out about that?"

     "The information on the files was sketchy at best, but a few
things did stick out. The mention of Smallpox vaccinations kept
cropping up and the introduction of an unknown chemical compound. Some
of the results of that compound being injected into the bloodstream
was listed on several of the documents. But no chemical substance that
I know of could have caused those type of results. I've contacted the
Thinker about it and he was at a loss as well."

     "The Thinker?" Scully asked.

     "If ANYONE knows about it outside the government," Langly spoke
up, "the Thinker would know."

     "So what you've got here," said Frohike, "is the government doing
some secret testing with an alien compound."

     "Alien as in little green men?" asked Scully.

     "Gray," Mulder answered. "Little GRAY men."

     "Well, at least alien as in previously unknown to man," said
Byers.

     "Did you find any common denominator why those particular people
were used for testing?" asked Scully.

     Byers smiled, pleased that she had asked and proud that he had an
answer for her. "Now this is where it gets weird," he began, typing on
the computer and bringing up a pie chart. "Forget about male, female,
race  or age. The ultimate connection is the government itself."

     Mulder and Scully drew closer to the computer screen to study the
chart as Byers pointed out the significant areas.

     "Ninety-five percent of the men and women used as guinea pigs
were either in a branch of the military or otherwise employed by the
government. A full one-hundred percent of the children were offsprings
of  military or government employees."

     "My father was in the navy," Scully murmured, nearly in a
trance.

     "Your father was.... I didn't see a Scully listed," said Byers
softly.

     "It was my sister who was...." Her voice trailed off, unable to
complete the thought.

     Mulder placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Would you like
to leave now?" he spoke softly in her ear.

     "No. No, I'm all right." She quickly snapped out of her moment of
depression and looked to Mulder. "Why use all military and government
employees? I don't understand."

     "Healthier specimens," Frohike blurted out. "Everyone in the
military has to pass a physical, then they have to train to get in top
shape and stay that way. And the medical records for government
employees is  easier to keep up with than those for the public at
large. In other words, convenience." 

     "By the way," Byers grabbed everyone's attention, "We had some of
the locals check out the location where you said the files came from.
Ever since the break-in, there's been a lot of activity in and out.
Military  troops have been placed on guard, so we know it's a
government operation, but there's no telling who's actually pulling
the strings."

     "So, we've reached a dead end," said Mulder.

     "Only until we figure out how to raid their computer system,"
Langly spoke. "All the files you had were pretty old. They've probably
updated everything digitally by now."

     "But you don't even know who they are," Scully pointed out. "How
could you possibly hope to get into their computer system?"

     Langly snorted. "Hey, I never said it'd be easy."

     Byers shook his head and added, "However, the odds are not too
great."

     "Time frame?" asked Mulder.

     The three men each exchanged a querying look, then Frohike chose
to answer the question. "Sometime between now and Miss Scully's and my
wedding night."

     Scully could only look at him as though he'd lost his mind.
Mulder took her by the hand and led her protectively towards the door.
"Thanks guys. We appreciate all you've done."

     "See ya, Doc," Byers and Langly spoke simultaneously.

     "Stop by anytime, Doc," said Frohike. "And bring your pretty
friend with you," he added with a lewd wink.

--------

     "Your friends are really quite interesting," said Scully as the
car pulled away from the Gunmen's lair. "I'm sure I couldn't have
possibly gotten that much information that quickly through normal
channels at the bureau."

     "Yeah, it definitely helps to know a good computer geek or two.
So at least now you know a lot more than you did. But how can you put
it to good use?"

     "I'm not sure. I guess I'll at least have to wait for Krychek's
findings. If he comes back empty-handed, then I'll know another
cover-up has been issued, and I'll know that my supervisor is a part
of it."

     "And that old Smoky is right at the top of the totem pole."

     Scully sighed deeply as she glared sullenly out the window at
passing traffic. "It's all so hard to believe that something so
sinister could be going on for so long, all round us, and our own
government is at fault. And my hands are tied, and there's not a damn
thing I can do."

     "Hey, you're not in this alone, okay? We'll think of something.
We'll work it out together."

     Scully nodded as a warm hand patted hers reassuringly. Suddenly a
thought burst into her mind and she exclaimed anxiously, "Your
patients!"  
     "What? What about them?"

     "Your Close Encounters group. They're not dead and they haven't
disappeared off the face of the earth."

     "No, they haven't."

     "They could be the key. Have you told them about the files?"

     "No. I uh... I'm not quite sure if I should."

     "But you HAVE to tell them. Maybe once they realize that they're
not being taken by ET's evil brother, they'll remember who's really
responsible for their abductions. Maybe they've seen faces, heard
names...."

     "I understand what you're saying, but... it's not going to be
that easy. These people...." Mulder suppressed a nervous laugh and
stole quick glances at his passenger as he drove. "I think I may have
done too good a job convincing them that they weren't crazy for
believing what they did. I think they'd feel a lot less sure of
themselves if they knew that Uncle Sam is the true cause of all their
problems."

     "But you can't let them go on believing in a lie."

     "No. I know that. But I'm going to have to approach this very
slowly and possibly one at a time. I can't rush this. I'm afraid they
may lose their faith and trust in me, and there's absolutely no
guarantee that they'll be able to shed any more light on the subject.
So... you know... don't expect too much."

     Scully could see the worry and even fear in his eyes. This time
she attempted to give comfort. She gently patted his arm and spoke
softly. "I only expect you to do the best you can."

     Mulder allowed the tension to leave his body, then he managed a
mild grin. "So, do you want to go somewhere and --"

     "No."

     "No, what?"

     "Oh, well, I thought you were going to ask me if I wanted to go
someplace to eat."

     "No. I wasn't going to ask that at all."

     "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions then. What were you going
to ask me?" 

     "I wanted to know if you wanted to go somewhere and just watch ME
eat. You see, I'm working on a new technique for chewing with my mouth
wide open. I hear it's all the latest rage."

     "Oh, well in that case," Scully laughed, "definitely, no."

     Mulder chuckled a bit too, then once the laughter subsided, he
took on a serious tone. "I think you may have been right," he said
while keeping his eyes on the road.

     "Right about what?"

     "About my wanting to feed you all the time. Having meals with my
patients isn't really a standard practice of mine. Occasionally when
I'm crunched for time or I'm helping to celebrate someone's birthday
or  something, I might have a quick lunch or a cup of coffee with
them. But, you and I... well our first lunch together didn't count
because you weren't my patient at the time, and our last dinner
doesn't count either because you had already dismissed me as your
doctor. But that still leaves the meals in-between... and uh...
there's a good chance that I WAS unconsciously trying to make sure
that you got enough to eat." He  shrugged his shoulders as he glanced
over at her. "I don't know. Maybe it's just the hair."

     "Do I make you uncomfortable?" Scully asked.

     Mulder flashed her a shy smile. "No, not at all. I enjoy your
company. Listen... I know you're not Amanda. I'm not still pining over
her and I'm not  getting the two of you confused. It's okay. Really.
So, you see if that was the reason why you don't want to go grab some
dinner with me --"

     "That isn't the reason," Scully cut him off. "It's my mother's
birthday and we've got tickets to Phantom of the Opera."

     "Oh. That's a great show. I'm sure you and your mom will have a
wonderful evening." 

--------

     Mulder dropped Scully off at the museum where they had met so she
could pick up her car. She would contact him later when Krychek
reported back in, and depending on his findings, they would decide
what  further steps would be taken. Again, he forced back a strong
desire to give her a tender, farewell-for-now kiss. He was seriously
beginning to think that it was much more than just the hair. He
probably shouldn't have agreed to remain her doctor considering the
feelings that she stirred in him since they first met, but he
desperately wanted to be the one to help her with whatever problems
she was facing.

     After parting from Scully, Mulder used his cellular to call his
sister, hoping to score an invitation for a home-cooked meal. She
gladly invited him over for dinner but it would have to be on Sunday
night because  at the moment she was getting dressed to go out for the
evening. He knew not to sound too disappointed because she'd put him
on hold in an instant and get on the line with one of her unattached
girlfriends to arrange a date for him. He loved his sister dearly, but
he had vowed to never let her fix him up with a blind date again as
long as he lived.

     With his looks and charisma, he had no problem at all meeting and
enticing beautiful women. But sometimes it just got too tedious to
bother because he was looking for one specific woman to fall in love
with, not merely to fall in bed with. Since he'd met Dana Scully, the
thought of dating other women had taken a back seat. He wasn't sure if
anything would ever happen between them, but he wanted to leave
himself available, just in case.

     He ended up stopping off for Chinese takeout and a couple of
videos on his way home. With his schedule, it wasn't very often he had
a chance to spend a quiet evening at home relaxing. He walked into the
kitchen from the garage and flipped on the light as he pushed the door
close with his hip. He immediately froze, sensing something was wrong.
He smelled cigarette smoke.


----End Part 7/10----

See part 1 for disclaimer

"DYING WISH"
by Frankcina Glass aka DYNOJET@aol.com

Chapter  8


     Mulder walked cautiously into the dining room and placed his bags
of food and rented videos on the table. He saw a thin cloud of smoke
wafting its way towards him, and spotted a tiny, orange glow in a
corner of the darkened living room. Mulder stepped to the doorway and
reached his hand in to turn on the dimmer switch. Two light sconces on
the wall nearest him richly illuminated the room and his uninvited
guest seated comfortably in his leather recliner. The place was in
total disarray as though someone had been carelessly searching for
something.

     "What, you don't have a date tonight either?" Mulder asked. 

     "You've been a busy man, Dr. Mulder," were the mystery man's
first words."

     "I know there's no sign posted, but I don't allow smoking in my
house. And DON'T put it out on my carpet," he warned.

     The man took one final drag, then leaned forward and smashed the
cigarette butt out on the ballerina statue on the coffee table in
front of him. That was it. Mulder decided not to play placid anymore.
He started  in a threatening manner towards the bastard, but stopped
dead in his tracks when he heard a single click from the staircase. He
looked up to see the barrel of a gun covered with a silencer, pointed
directly at him. A  cross between a man and a gorilla was the one
doing the pointing.

     "As I was saying, Dr. Mulder," said the smoker, to grab the young
doctor's attention again, "you've been a busy little fellow. Where are
the documents?"

     "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."

     "Oh, I think you do. I want to know who gave you the directions
and the entrance codes to the complex."

     "I'm still not following," said Mulder, feigning ignorance.

     "And of course I want to know who else you've told."

     "Look, I've got some Chinese takeout and a couple of movies if
you and your friend would like to just kick back for a while."

     A second man, looking to be a close relative to the gunman
appeared from out of one of the upstairs rooms. "No trace," was his
only comment as he descended the stairs.

     "Dr. Mulder is being uncooperative," the smoker told his men.
"See what you can do about it."

     Mulder didn't wait around to see how they planned to carry out
that order. He whirled about and made a dash for the kitchen. Before
he was able to reach the back door, he felt a pair of iron arms
embracing him  tightly from behind. They locked around his chest,
pinning his arms to his sides and began to squeeze the air from his
lungs. The arms lifted him and spun him about to face a huge pair of
fists that took turns plowing  first into his gut, then into his face.
He tasted blood as it dripped from his nose to blend with what was
oozing from the split in his lower lip. The barrage of furious fists
stopped abruptly just before he was about to pass out from the
assault. He was half-walked, half-dragged into the dining room and sat
down in a chair at the table. The smell of the Sweet & Sour chicken
and egg drop soup in the bag on the table made him nauseous. Somehow
he managed to fight back the urge to spew what little he'd eaten that
day. An arm was wrapped snugly about his neck and it was all he could
do to get a little air through to his lungs.

     The smoker came forward and stood at the opposite end of the
table. "Are you feeling more cooperative now, Dr. Mulder?"

     Mulder looked at the man with tears forming in his eyes. He was
ashamed of himself for crying like a schoolboy getting beat up by the
school bullies. But he had never been beat up before. He had always
been popular in school and his worst confrontation had only been a
shoving match which he luckily won. But he hurt now, really hurt, and
the tears came automatically.

     "Where are the documents?" the man across from him asked once
more.

     The grip about his neck was loosened in order for him to reply.
After a brief bout of coughing and sniffling, he wiped the blood from
his lips and responded in a raspy voice. "I... I destroyed them."

     "And why would you do that?"

     "I was... I was afraid I'd get in trouble if someone found them
in my possession."

     "Who gave you the directions and the access code?"

     "I don't know. Someone left an envelope on my car windshield. The
information and a plane ticket were inside."

     "You're very impulsive then, Dr. Mulder. Someone leaves you a
plane ticket and an address, and you're on your merry way. How did you
know that I didn't leave them for you?"

     "I don't," said Mulder quickly. "A note promised answers about
some of my patients. My curiosity got the better of me." So far, so
good, he thought. The asshole seemed to be buying his story.

     "Who else have you told?"

     Mulder considered how much of the truth he should tell. The man
had to have known that Dana Scully knew. He had to have known about
the FBI investigation. Hopefully, his knowledge extended no further.
"I told Agent Scully about her sister and five of my patients. I was
thinking about telling those five patients, but I changed my mind. I
think it might be somewhat detrimental to their mental health."

     "Who else did you tell, Dr. Mulder?"

     "No one. No one else."

     Once again, his answer was questioned as the smoker repeated
himself. "Who else did you tell, Dr. Mulder?"

     "I didn't tell ANYBODY else," Mulder reiterated, raising his
voice.

     The smoker lit up another cigarette and blew the smoke purposely
in Mulder's direction. His eyes lifted upwards towards the man with
his arm about Mulder's neck. He gave the slightest of nods and Mulder
felt the iron grip tighten around his Adam's apple. He struggled
helplessly to pry the arm away, but it held on, applying even more
pressure against his windpipe. He was seconds away from losing
consciousness when the pressure suddenly disappeared and air began
gushing back into his lungs. The smoke he was forced to inhale did
little to ease his coughing. His adversary took pity on him to a
degree, blowing his smoke in another direction and requesting a glass
of water be given to the doctor.

     "You passed on the information to a computer hacker," the smoker
stated casually, as Mulder nursed his water. "Several federal
computers were breached and information on a number of individuals was
downloaded. Would you care to change your story now?"

     "Okay. I didn't destroy the documents. I was going to. I had them
in my briefcase... which was stolen when I stopped at a red light and
some punk came to my window and pointed a gun in my face demanding
money. He took the briefcase, thinking that something valuable was in
it."

     He knew it was the worst lie he'd ever told and he knew it would
not be given consideration. His eyes flashed fearfully from the
remaining contents in his glass to the man across from him. The man
wore an  unreadable expression. He wasn't even looking at Mulder, but
instead had found interest in a picture frame on the wall. It was a
large frame with a mat of a dozen different shaped cutouts. Each
cutout held a separate  photograph. The smoker stood and moved closer
to view the pictures. They were all family pictures, mostly of Mulder
and his sister from babyhood to adulthood. Samantha had put it
together and given it to him for his thirtieth birthday.

     "I can tell by these pictures that you love your sister very
much, Dr. Mulder."

     A new fear grew in Mulder's heart. "Damn you, don't you touch
her!" he screamed and attempted to lunge himself at his foe. A hand
effortlessly pushed him back down in the chair and held him pinned by
the shoulder.

     "Oh, I won't touch her," the man assured him. "But the boys
here...." He gave a nod towards the two gorillas passing as humans. "I
understand she's gone out on a date now. We could all go on over there
and wait for her to return."

     "Please," Mulder begged. "Leave her out of this. She has nothing
to do with this."

     "Then it's up to you to keep her out. Tell me what I want to
know."

     He had no other choice. He would not place his sister's life on
the line. "You were right. I gave the documents to a computer hacker
and I asked him to check out all the people on the list. He said he
found out that they are either all dead or gone missing."

     "What else?"

     Mulder was hesitant, but he knew the man would settle for nothing
less than the complete truth. "He said that the people were test
subjects. There wasn't enough info to say what kind of testing was
performed, but  that the majority of the people were servicemen or
government employees and their family members. He speculated it was
probably because it was easier for the government to keep track of the
medical records of its own employees. That's all he found out. I swear
that's all."

     "Where can we find him?"

     "Why, so you can kill him? Look, he's no threat to you. I can
tell him to trash the files, to forget the whole thing."

     "All right," the smoker responded a bit too quickly. He
instructed one of his apes to go get the cordless phone from the
living room. When it was placed in his hand, he brought the kitchen
phone in and set it before Mulder. "Call him. Ask him to come over.
I'd like to meet him and decide for myself if he can be trusted."

     "It doesn't work like that."

     "No?"

     "He would never come straight to my house. I call him and ask for
a meeting. If he agrees to meet, he sets the time and place."

     "Ask to meet within the hour. Your hands look a bit shaky. Just
tell me the number and I'll do the dialing."

     Mulder reluctantly called out the seven digits, as the smoker
pushed the buttons on the cordless phone. When it started to ring, he
gave a nod to Mulder. "No, chit-chat and no codes."

     The doctor nodded his understanding, then lifted the receiver to
his ear just as the barrel of a gun pressed  against his temple in
warning. On the third ring, he heard Frohike's voice announcing, "Lone
Gunman."

     "Hey, Marty, it's me, Dr. Mulder."

     "Hey, Doc, what's shaking?"

     "I need to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. Say in an
hour?"

     "No can do, Doc. Pamela Anderson's giving a chat on AOL at nine,
complete with GIFs."

     "How about afterwards?"

     "Sure. Ten-thirty good enough?"

     "Yeah. Where?"

     "Let's try the bench in front of the Reflecting Pool this time."

     "See you then." Mulder hung up the phone, feeling a sick
tightness in his chest. He had just betrayed a friend; no matter it
was for a good cause. He could only pray that now his sister would be
spared from harm. He no longer had much confidence that he would see
the light of day himself, and he sorely regretted having to expose the
Gunmen to the same fate. The gun had been pulled away from his temple
though it continued to point in his direction. He looked to his
captor, just barely able to keep the tears at bay. "Now what?"

     "Now, we put you to bed."

     The smoker gave another nod to his men. The trench coat that
Mulder had never had a chance to remove, was pulled down his arms by a
set of large, hairy hands, and slipped off to fall in a bunch behind
his back on the chair. His suit jacket received the same treatment. He
was afraid to ask what they were going to do to him now. He really
didn't want to know. He just hoped that it would be swift and rather
painless. His tie was loosened and his shirt was ripped open without
care. He heard a button as it landed on the floor and spun itself into
a corner somewhere. His shirt and tie were removed and tossed on the
table, and there the  undressing stopped.

     He had been staring down at the high gloss of the black lacquer
table and at the reflected distorted images of the figures hovering
above him. It wasn't until one of the images grabbed his left arm and
began wrapping something about it, that he thought to look up. A
tourniquet was being fastened about his biceps and that told him one
of two things: he was about to donate some blood or he was about to
receive an injection. Someone placed a capped hypothermic needle on
the table in front of him. After briefly studying the pale green
liquid inside, his eyes lifted to those of the smoker, standing
against the wall, a hint of an malevolent smile on his face.

     Mulder's entire body trembled in fear as he sat passively
awaiting his fate. He gave a fleeting thought to putting up a
struggle, but he knew he didn't stand a chance against King Kong and
Mighty Joe Young. Begging was a conceivable option, seeing that his
pride had left the party some time ago, but the smoker's stark
expression gave him no reason to hope for mercy. So he watched as
placidly as an unwanted pet being put to sleep, as the point of the
needle was shoved into his arm and the contents burned its way into
his flesh. He was now a dead man, and those whom he had pulled into
this hellhole with him were probably as  well.


----End Part 8/10----

See part 1 for disclaimer

"DYING WISH"
by Frankcina Glass aka DYNOJET@aol.com


Chapter 9

February, 5
Dr. Mulder's House
5:46 p.m.

     Mulder awoke to find himself sprawled on his bed, dressed in a
T-shirt, slacks and still wearing his shoes. He had a killer headache
and every muscle in his body screamed in discontent. The call of
nature forced him off the bed and into the bathroom. After relieving
himself, he faced the mirror and was taken aback by what he saw. Dried
blood caked beneath his nose and at both corners of his mouth. His
right cheek was slightly swollen and colored a deep purple, matching
the hue circling his half closed left eye and the markings around his
throat.

     "What the hell happened to you?" he asked his reflection, equally
surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. He searched his memory for
an answer and saw brief flashes of fists repeatedly pounding into him.
The images only added to his discomfort, so he pushed back the
memories for the present and concentrated on doing something about his
aches and pains.

     He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the infrequently used
bottle of aspirin. He rarely got headaches and only used it
occasionally after over-exertion on the basketball court or other
sports-related injuries. After popping a couple of the pills into his
mouth and chasing them with water, Mulder turned on the faucet in the
shower and began to undress. Luckily, there was no more blood to be
found, but he did find a new set of bruises covering his mid-section.
Although he was extremely stiff and sore, nothing felt broken. He
stepped into the shower, wishing it was a hot Jacuzzi. A hot Jacuzzi
with a Baywatch babe, he thought lazily. Seems like he'd wish for that
before. The Jacuzzi, he could manage on his own, but getting Pamela
Anderson to join him in it.... 

     He chuckled lightly to himself, wondering if Frohike had gotten
the chance to chat with Pamela Anderson on-line last night. Last
night. Images were starting to come back to him. Fists hitting, and
smoke in his face and tears flowing down his cheeks. He turned off the
water and stepped clumsily out of the shower, remembering the fear,
the threats, the betrayal. He grabbed a towel drying himself as he
went back into the  bedroom and reached for where his bedside
telephone should have been. Still, half wet, he quickly pulled on some
underwear and jeans, then went to the door. He put his ear to it,
listening for signs that he was not alone. When nothing was heard, he
cracked the door open and peered outside. No one was in view and no
odor of smoke could be detected.         

     Mulder cautiously worked his way downstairs, stopping off at the
hall closet to grab a baseball bat, then searching his home for
intruders. He let go a nervous breath he'd been holding in when he had
reached the  kitchen and found no one else present. His bloodied shirt
and tie still lay in a ball on the dining room table near the bag
containing the videos he had rented. Detecting a distasteful odor, he
picked up the bag of Chinese takeout and checked out one of the
cartons. It surprised him that his dinner had gone that rancid
overnight. But he didn't dwell on that, instead he reached for the
kitchen phone which he saw had been unplugged. As soon as he placed
the plug back into the wall jack, the ensuing ring, dtartled him,
causing him to jump slightly and clutch at his heart. His phone line
had Caller ID and he felt some anxiety at seeing that the call was
coming from the Georgetown Hospital.

     "Hello?"

     "Where the hell have you been for the past two days?" his
father's voice bellowed at him.

     "Two days?"

     "We've been phoning and phoning, and never got an answer."

     "The phone's been out of order," Mulder replied weakly. "Is
something wrong, Dad?"

     "It's your sister. She's in the Georgetown Hospital Intensive
Care Unit. You'd better get down here."

     "Dad?" His voice held an unspoken question.

     "Just come, son," his father spoke with a deep sigh. "Now."

--------

Georgetown Hospital ICU
6:32 p.m.

     Mulder walked up quietly behind his father and placed a caring
hand on his shoulder. The old man's eyes did not shift from his
daughter's prone form as she lay comatose in the intensive care unit.
Five gunshot  wounds had riddled her body, leaving her with a
collapsed lung, an impaired heart and possible brain damage. Mulder
had spoken with the doctor about his sister's condition before
entering the room, but he still  wasn't clear on the details of the
attack.

     "What happened to her, Dad?" Mulder asked, keeping his voice
low.

     "That good-for-nothing ex-husband of hers. Can you believe it?
They actually let that son-of-a-bitch out of prison. They claimed it
was some kind of computer error. An unfortunate mistake. They let him
just waltz  out a free man, Saturday morning without even notifying
anyone, and what's the first thing he does. He gets a gun and goes
after my baby girl."

     His father's words were bitter and the anguish in his voice was
undeniable. Still, without further prompting, he continued. Mulder
listened in silence, his tear-filled eyes never leaving his sister's
pale face. 

     "She had just come home from grocery shopping and he was outside
the house waiting for her. She tried to run but he chased her down,
firing at her, screaming that he was going to hell and he was taking
her with him. He fired five shots into her, two in the chest, one in
her left arm, right hip and one in the neck. He saved the last bullet
for himself. He'd better be glad he's dead 'cause I would have cut his
heart out and shoved it  down his throat, so help me."

     Mulder knew it was his fault. He had placed his sister's life in
jeopardy the first time he had refused the smoker's offer. "I should
have warned her," he unintentionally spoke aloud.

     "Warn her? How could you--" His father turned to look at his son
at last and did a double take, appalled at what he saw. "My God! Look
at you! He did this to you, didn't he?"

     Mulder wasn't sure who his father was referring to at first so he
didn't respond.

     "I remember he threatened you too," William Mulder continued,
"but I didn't think to check on you. When you didn't answer your
phone, I didn't stop to think that he had gone after you too."

     It dawned on him then that his father was assuming that he had
been attacked by the same person who had attacked Samantha. Mulder
shook his head, wanting to explain what had really transpired but not
knowing exactly how to go about it.

     "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

     "No. Dad, I'm okay. Really. Just a little sore is all."

     "Your mother's going to be upset with me that I didn't come and
check on you."

     "Where IS mom?"

     "A friend of hers stopped by. I got her to take your mother home
so she could get some rest. She hadn't slept since before we got the
news."

     "How about you, Dad? Don't look like you've slept either."

     William shrugged and waved off the question. "You get as old as I
am and you don't need that much sleep."

     "I'll stay here with Samantha, Dad. Go on home and look after
Mom." It seemed as though his father was going to reject the idea, so
Mulder gently insisted. "Go home. I'll call if anything changes."

     William nodded, gave his son one final pat on the arm, then
withdrew from the room. Mulder took hold of the untethered fingers of
his sister's left hand. So much medical equipment was hooked up to her
that it  was hard to find a safe place to touch her.

     "I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry I did this to
you. But promise me you won't die, okay? I'll let you fix me up with
one of your girlfriends. I know how much you like to play
matchmaker.... Just  come back to us, okay?"

     He sat down in the only chair in the room and remained alert for
any change in rhythm of the attached monitors. After about twenty
minutes, a nurse chased him off, telling him he could return in half
an hour. He  reluctantly departed, then went to sit down in the
waiting room where three members of another family huddled together
for support. Mulder propped his elbows on his thighs and his still
aching head in his palms.  Not long afterwards, a hand landed on his
shoulder and a female voice called out his name. He thought it might
have been one of the nurses at first, but when he looked he found a
familiar face brimming with compassion.

     "Dana." He was almost able to smile.  
       
     "Oh, my God!" she gasped after getting a good look at his face.
"What happened to you?"

     "Long story. How did you find me?"

     "I got a call from Frohike. He said that you had called him
Friday night to set up a meeting. He said he got suspicious when he
saw that you were calling from home and using your cordless phone to
do it. And he  said something about you calling him Marty, which is
some kind of secret code?"

     Mulder managed a brief grin. "Marty is the name he uses to uh...
call women with 1-900 numbers."

     "Phone sex," said Scully, not at all surprised.

     "He prefers to think of it as a kind of inhibitions therapy. When
I handed him the documents, I told him it was hot stuff and the owners
might come looking for it. He insisted that we have some sort of
warning  system in effect. Those guys are normally pretty paranoid
anyway, so I was hoping they'd take precautions, but I wasn't sure. I
was forced to call them and I was afraid that they would get tracked
down through the phone number. But you say they're all okay?"

     "Yes, they're all fine. He told me that they have abandoned their
previous location and that the number you had to reach them before is
no longer valid. He tried several times to contact you yesterday and
today,  but never got an answer."

     "All my phones had been turned off or disconnected. I guess they
didn't want my sleep to be disturbed."

     "Frohike said that you were either taking a massive amount of
showers or that.... Well, later, he heard about your sister on the
news and figured if you WERE still alive, this is where you'd be."

     "They punished me by going after her."

     "I don't understand."

     "They came to me at my house and demanded to know about the
documents and who I turned them over to. If Frohike had gone to meet
me, they would have been waiting for him. We'd probably be able to
pass for twins by now."

     Standing in front of him, Scully, raised his chin with one
finger, taking in his injuries with a critical eye. "They really did a
number on you. Have you seen a doctor yet?"

     "No, I'm all right. But Sam...."

     "What's the diagnosis?"

     "She's stabilized now, but comatose. They're not sure, but they
think she may have suffered some brain damage. Anything from partial
paralysis to complete vegetation. They won't know for sure until she
wakes up.... IF she wakes up." Mulder shook his head mournfully. "I
did this to her. I knew what they were capable of doing and I did
nothing to protect her.... I did nothing to protect her."

     Scully knew no words that could console him or make him think any
differently at the moment. She did the only thing she could think of.
She stepped closer and draped her arms about his shoulders, pulling
him  into the warmth of her bosom. His arms encircled her slim waist
automatically, his knees parted further to make room to draw her
nearer. As her lips pressed sweetly against his forehead, she felt him
tremble and heard the sobs. She squeezed him tighter to convey that
she was there for him as long as he needed her.

     It took a good five minutes for him to cry himself out. He was
glad that his face had been hidden away from onlookers by the folds of
Scully's opened overcoat. He found a temporary peace with his head
nestled  against her soft breasts, moving with the rise and fall of
her breaths, and listening to her heartbeat. Under totally different
circumstances, he would be in heaven. He finally loosened his grip and
she moved to sit down beside him, their hands now keeping contact.

     "Thanks. I'm glad you came. Dad sent Mom home and I sent him. I
thought I wanted to be alone."

     "Have you been here all day?"

     "No. I didn't get the call till a couple of hours ago when I woke
up. I think I'm missing a day. The last I remember, it was like 8:00,
Friday night."

     "Are you saying you've been unconscious for over forty hours?"

     When he merely shrugged the question off, Scully rummaged through
her purse and pulled out a penlight. She held Mulder's head still with
one hand and focused the fine beam of light into his retina. He
blinked and  turned away from it, wincing in pain.

     "You're light sensitive. That's not good."

     "Just got a bad headache. Probably because I haven't eaten since
lunch time Friday."

     "I think you should be examined by a doctor. You could have some
serious injuries."

     "Can I get something to eat first? I'm starving."
     
--------

     Scully sat quietly in the hospital cafeteria watching her doctor,
the man she was beginning to think of as more of a friend, fill the
vacancy in his stomach. She had warned him against eating too much too
quickly, so he settled for a bowl of chicken noodle soup and some
crackers which he ate slowly. 

     "You know, I'm feeling another bout of deja vu," said Mulder,
scraping the bottom of his bowl for the last of the noodles.

     "When your wife passed away?" Scully asked.

     Mulder nodded sadly, bringing the spoon to his mouth, then
stopping in mid-travel, suddenly losing his appetite. He lowered the
spoon back into the bowl then stared down at the contents.

     "My sister brought me down here to eat something because I hadn't
eaten in two days. Amanda was in ICU and we were all just sitting
around waiting for her to...." He sighed deeply, not caring to finish
the  sentence. "I didn't know how I was going to make it on my own
without her. Didn't know how I would live with the guilt. A friend and
colleague of mine spent six weeks talking me through the pain, trying
to convince me to let go of the guilt. When I couldn't let go of it,
she told me to compromise, to bury it so deep that it would take an
emotional earthquake to bring it to surface again." Mulder raised his
eyes to meet Dana Scully's. "I'm starting to feel the tremors now," he
uttered, his voice growing shaky.

     Scully reached her hand out to cover his. "I wish there was
something I could do to help," she said, her eyes a bit moist.

     Mulder encased her hand with both of his and stated softly,
"You're doing it. You're doing it."

--------

     Scully stayed close to Mulder as he was checked out by an
emergency room intern. Despite the unattractive bruising and swelling,
he was deemed to be in good health with no fractured bones, internal 
injuries or head trauma. However, the young doctor voiced concerns
about the blood work results which left him scratching his head over
an unidentifiable compound in Mulder's blood stream. Anxious to get
back to  his sister, Mulder waved off the concern, joking that perhaps
it was remnants of the Japanese blowfish he'd eaten earlier. Too
harried to spend any more time on this particular patient, the intern
released Mulder from his care, instructing him to have his own
physician give him a thorough check up as soon as possible.

     As Scully accompanied her shrink back up to intensive care, she
considered the doctor's findings carefully. "You said that you were
unconscious since Friday night?" she asked on their ride in the
elevator.

     "As far as I can tell. Why?"

     "That's what I'd like to know. Why? There was no sign of head
trauma, so that means you weren't knocked unconscious. So why were you
out of it for over forty hours?"

     "I uh... I don't know."

     The elevator doors opened to the desired floor and they stepped
out. Scully had planned to go back into the waiting room while Mulder
visited with his sister, but he tugged at her arm and urged her to go
with him. In passing the nurses' station, he introduced the woman with
him as his fiancee since admittance to the ICU was limited. Scully
cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. They entered the room quietly, and
Mulder  timidly approached the bed. He called to his sister softly,
then reached out and stroked her hand hoping to get some sort of
response.

     "She has always been hard to wake up," said Mulder to his
companion. "She could sleep through the loudest thunderstorms when she
was little. I, on the other hand, would wake up and go running to her
bedroom to keep her company so she wouldn't get scared." Mulder threw
a soft smile over his shoulder at Scully and she returned it easily.
"Even now, she needs two alarm clocks to wake her up in the morning;
one  she keeps next to the bed and one she keeps on the other side of
the room. She really likes her sleep is all. Once she's all rested,
she'll wake up."

--------

Hospital Garage
11:15 p.m.

     Mulder had appreciated the company, but he knew that Scully was
tired and had a job to go to tomorrow. He wasn't sure at what point he
had taken hold of her hand, but he became aware of it as he was 
walking her to her car. It was exquisitely soft and delicate and her
fingers laced through his in a perfect fit. She must have understood
that he needed the emotional support holding her hand supplied because
she  never showed objection to it.

     "There was an unknown substance in your bloodstream," she said
out of the blue. Obviously, her thoughts weren't on the same plane as
his.

     "What?"

     "Is it possible you were given something, some kind of drug to
make you sleep that long?"

     A flash of memory hit him and he shivered noticeably.

     "What?"

     "There was a hypodermic needle on the table. It was filled with
some kind of light green liquid. I--I remember thinking when they gave
me the shot... I didn't think I was ever going to wake up again."

     Scully stopped in her tracks, pulling her hand from his, then
turned to face him. "We can't let them get away with this," she spoke
adamantly.

     "I think they already have."

     "But they should be made to pay. These people are nothing more
than criminals and they should be brought to justice. What they did to
my sister and yours, and your patients and to you... they shouldn't be
allowed to continue to destroy peoples' lives like that."

     "I agree, but... what can be done if the people in charge of
upholding the law are the same ones who are breaking it? They could
have killed me if they wanted to but they didn't because they wanted
me alive to see  what happens when someone crosses them. My sister is
up there in a coma because some sick, black-lunged devil wanted to
demonstrate his power to me. Well, he's taught me a valuable lesson...
several in fact. I've  learned that I'm definitely no James Bond.
Truth be known, I believe that even Miss Moneypenny could easily kick
my ass. I've learned that I don't enjoy having my faced smashed in or
a gun pressed against my head. I've learned that my family is more
important to me than my need to know things better left forgotten. I'm
sorry, Dana. If it was just me, I'd do whatever I could to expose
these bastards." He shook his head sadly. "But I can't... I refuse to
put my family's life in danger again."

     He was afraid that she would see him as a pathetic coward, or
worse, she'd never want to see him again. He had cast his eyes away
from her for a moment while awaiting her response to his declaration.
A delicate  hand stroked his stubble-covered cheek, careful to avoid
the bruised areas. He closed his eyes for a moment at her touch,
relief coursing throughout his entire body. When he turned his gaze
back to her, a  compassionate smile awaited him.

     "It's okay. I understand," she said in lowering her hand. "I
wouldn't want you to do anything to jeopardize your safety or those
around you."

     "I usually take it as a come-on when a beautiful woman strokes my
face like that," said Mulder changing the tone of the conversation as
well as the direction.

     "So what do you usually do when a woman comes on to you?"

     "Beautiful woman," Mulder corrected her.

     "All right. What do you usually do when a beautiful woman comes
on to you?"

     "Well, after I melt into her eyes, I usually, sort of...." He
leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. The attempt at
romance faltered when he winced in pain at the gentle pressure on his
previously damaged lower lip.

     "Are you all right?" Scully asked in concern.

     "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I guess I shouldn't try to respond to
come-ons so soon after getting my face smashed in." Recalling what he
had seen in the mirror, he added, "I'm probably grossing you out,
aren't I?"

     "A little," Scully replied, then located an unabused spot on his
cheek and  carefully landed a tender kiss there. She smiled at the
surprised look on his face, then took hold of his hand again and
silently continued  the walk to her car. Once she was safely tucked
inside her vehicle, Mulder leaned over and spoke to her through the
rolled down window.

     "I don't believe I can continue in good faith to be your doctor,
Dana. I believe it would be a conflict of interests. I have a
colleague I can recommend to you though."

     "I don't think that will be necessary. I believe all I need is a
good friend whose ear I can bend occasionally."

     Mulder smiled. "Just call me Dumbo."

     "Try to get some sleep, Dr. Muld--"

     "Fox," he corrected her.

     " I'll check with you tomorrow, Fox. I hope your sister gets
better real soon."

     "Thank you, for everything. Good-night, Dana."

     Mulder leaned into the car and gave her a simple peck on the
cheek to end the evening. He stood back from the car as she eased out
of the parking space and threw her a wave as she drove off.
 

----END PART 9/10----

See part 1 for disclaimer

"DYING WISH"
by Frankcina Glass aka DYNOJET@aol.com


Chapter 10

     
Samantha's ICU Room
9:05 a.m.


     Mulder was stirred awake by a petite hand petting his head. He
opened his eyes and smiled weakly at his mother.      
     "Hi, Mom."

     "Your dad told me what happened. How do you feel?"

     "I'm okay. Really." He stood up slowly from the chair he had
fallen asleep in barely an hour ago, and stretched the tightened
muscles which had  grown sorer than before. "Just a little achy," he
told her once he  noticed her dubious expression. He was relieved when
she turned her attention to his sister.

     "Has she waken at all?" she asked, patting her daughter's hair
just as she had her son's.

     "No. Nothing's changed. The doctor's suppose to stop by soon."

     "I remember the last time that animal put her in the hospital. I
thought I was going to lose my baby, but she fought back, didn't
she?"

     Mulder rested an arm about his mother's shoulders as he stood
beside her. "Yeah, she fought back beautifully. And she'll do it
again. But you know how much Sam likes her sleep."

     He was pleased to see his mother smile, knowing how true that
statement was. He remained by her side until the doctor arrived.
Following a quick examination and a review of her charts, the man had
nothing new to offer the family members in the way of hope. It was
still a wait and see proposition. Mulder was willing to stay the rest
of the day. He had already called Libby early that morning and
apprised her of the situation. He knew he would be taking at least a
couple of days off, so he had her to either reschedule his
appointments or contact the colleagues he normally subbed with and
have them take over for him.

     His mother, however, acting very much like a mother insisted he
go home and get some rest. She wasn't pleased with the way he looked
and she was very tempted to find a hospital bed to plant him in. With
that  threat as a motivator, he kissed his sister's forehead and his
mother's cheek, vowing to return later in the evening. 

--------

     Mulder was still a bit cautious when he arrived home. The
memories of what had happened to him previously were still fresh in
his mind. He found everything just as he had left it, or rather the
way his visitors had left it. He was tempted to straighten the place
up, but realized just how tired he was. The cleaning people would be
by tomorrow. He figured he'd let them earn their pay. He poured
himself a glass of orange juice, filled a bowl with milk and cereal,
then sat down at the breakfast nook to eat. Just as he was about to
consume the first spoonful of Captain Crunch, the chiming of the
doorbell startled him so badly he dropped the spoon to the floor. The
bad guys probably would have just broken in, not bothering with the
civilities of ringing a doorbell. Mulder calmed himself with a couple
of deep breaths, then went into the living room and peered through the
peephole. He unlocked the door and quickly ushered his guest inside.

     "Frohike? What are you doing here? I don't think it's safe for
you to be here."

     "I'm not Frohike," the person with Frohike's face replied. "I'm
the other one. Remember, your guardian angel? The one who brought you
here?"

     At first the little man's words made no sense, then all at once,
a new set of memories flooded Mulder's brain. The memories of a whole
other life crammed themselves in right next to his present life.     

     "Yeah... I remember you now. But you could get in trouble looking
like that now."

     "Oh, well I can change my appearance to look like anyone you want
me to. How about this?" Frohike's image changed from a stout, little
pug-faced man in a rumbled suit, to a very buxom blonde in a bright
orange bathing suit, who bore a remarkable resemblance to a certain
Baywatch babe.

     Mulder gasped at the voluptuous sight. "Whoa! Why didn't you do
that earlier?"

     "I didn't want your attention to stray." 

     Mulder stared unabashed at the huge swell of breasts that were
barely being contained by the bathing suit. "Well, those are a bit
distracting."

     "That's what I thought." Frohike's image returned to its original
form. "This look will do just fine. I won't be here long. I have
something important to tell you, but I think you'd better sit down
first." Frohike pointed towards the couch and Mulder led the way.

     "The last time you told me I'd better sit down, I ended up with a
whole new life." He looked at the little man and saw an uneasy
expression on his face. Mulder suddenly felt queasy. He sat down and
prepared himself for some unpleasant news. "What is it?"

     "Well, you see, it's like this.... Have you ever seen the movie,
'Here Comes Mr. Jordan?' or the remake, 'Heaven Can Wait?' It starred
Warren Beatty."

     "Oh yeah. I saw the one with Warren Beatty."

     "Do you remember the story?"

     "Yeah. Warren Beatty's character had died, but he was returned to
earth and was given a new body to use because his old one had already
been destroyed by the time the angels found out that they had made a 
mistake in taking him in the first place."

     "Yes, and the mistake that had been made was that someone ASSUMED
that he was going to die because of the circumstances he was facing at
the time, when in fact, he would have survived all along. 
However, his soul was plucked from his body before he was completely
dead and things just got a bit out of hand from there."

     Mulder spent a moment taking that all in. "So are you saying
that... that when I was laying out there in the snow and ice DYING...
that I really was going to live?"

     Frohike nodded. "Well, you have to admit, things weren't exactly
in your favor. You were roughed up by an alien, exposed to his blood
which is a deadly toxin, the temperature is forty below and you're
miles away  from help. So naturally I thought... you know, I'd save
you a few minutes of unnecessary suffering."

     "And then later you found out that--"

     "I acted in haste. It appears that the cold weather was actually
a PLUS and not a minus that should have been calculated into your
final outcome."

     "So bringing me here, creating this new life for me was also a
mistake?"

     "It was more like a boo-boo."

     "A boo-boo?"

     "Apparently, your previous life wasn't really over. So, the dying
wish that you made is, for all purposes, null and void."

     "Null and void?" Mulder yelled, getting to his feet and standing
menacingly over Frohike. "Just like that? I've got my sister back! I
have fond childhood memories of us growing up together. I've got
parents who  never divorced, a mother who doesn't have to take
anti-depressants and a father who gives me a pat on the back once in a
while. Dammit, I have a real family here!"

     "Fox... about your family... THIS family...." Frohike was
reluctant to continue. By the tone of his voice Mulder could tell that
he was hoarding bad news.

     "What ABOUT my family?"

     "I really shouldn't be telling you this--"

     "But you will," said Mulder, making it a demand more than a
suggestion.

     "Fox, your sister... I'm afraid she's not going to recover. Her
condition is permanent. The decision of whether or not to allow her to
die is going to tear your whole family apart."

     "You... you can do something about it, can't you? You said you're
a guardian angel."

     "I'm YOUR guardian angel. I watch out for YOU, not those around
you."

     "Well, where the hell's Samantha's guardian angel? Has he been
sleeping on the job or something?"

     "It's complicated, Fox--"

     "Don't call me that!" Mulder shouted. "Why would you give this to
me? Give me what I've wanted ever since I was twelve and then just
snatch it right back?"

     "I'm sorry. Each life has its own destiny. If your sister had
never been abducted when she was a child, this would have been her
destiny. And by the same token, if you never became an FBI agent,
trying to find her,  you would never have become Dana Scully's
partner. You two make a pretty good team. Not like her and Krychek."

     An uneasy feeling crept into his gut at the thought of Scully
having a partner she could not depend on or trust. "What happens to
Scully?" he asked, already fearing the reply.

     "Dana is going to continue her investigation into what happened
to her sister and your missing patients."

     "Missing patients? What missing patients?"

     "Your Close Encounters group. Within the next week, they will
each disappear without a trace. Agent Scully will go against orders
and investigate. Her search is going to lead her into a direction that
she  shouldn't travel alone. Since she doesn't have a partner like
you, one who would risk his own life to protect her...." Frohike
sighed hopelessly before going on. "It will be made to look like a
suicide."

     Mulder shook his head pathetically and dropped down onto the
couch, closing his eyes in despair. "You guys don't play fair," he
spoke, nearly in tears.

     "I know it sucks. It's like that saying, 'The grass is always
greener on the other side,' until you get on the other side and see
that it's mostly just weeds." Frohike sat beside him and patted him on
the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Fox. I screwed up big time. And now I'm here
to try to put things right. You'll have your old life back. But if it
helps any, you WILL find your sister someday. I can't tell you how or
when, but she is alive and well and will be for a very long time.
Also, your partner, although she will experience some trying times,
she will also see many years yet to come, but only if you're there for
her. She will need you desperately."

     The words had calmed him. Knowing that his search would pay off
someday, and knowing that Scully needed him was enough to lure him
quietly back into his previous existence. Mulder looked at Frohike
with  a meek smile.

     "Will I be seeing you again?"

     "Not anytime soon."

     "Will I remember like I remember now?"

     "You'll remember only what you need to. Are you ready?"

     Mulder took a moment to glance around at his home, already
sensing an unfamiliarity at the surroundings. No, he wouldn't miss it.
He looked to Frohike again and nodded. "I'm ready. Hey, wait! You're
not going to stick me back out in the snow, are you?"

     "No. You'll be in a military hospital. It will be a week later
than when this all began."

     "Oh. Okay."

     "Lie down now and close your eyes."

     Mulder did as he was told, then instantly felt a chill race
through his body. He felt suddenly exhausted and weak with a dull
aching in his bones. Then he felt one other thing, a gently squeezing
warmth on his left  arm. Small hands grasped him delicately and he
knew instinctively who they belonged to. As he opened his eyes and
focused on a window to his right, the memories of the trek in the snow
and the alien aboard the  submarine out in the middle of nowhere,
assaulted his brain. He knew that somehow, Scully had managed to find
him. Somehow she had saved his life.

     "I'm alive," he tried to say, but his throat was dry and his
mouth seemed to be milling its own cotton. What actually came out was
nothing more than a grunt, but it was enough to draw attention to the
fact that  he was now awake.

     Sitting patiently at his bedside with her head down, Scully
perked up instantly at the sound she had heard. It was the first sign
of consciousness her partner had made all week. She smiled when she
saw that his eyes were open and his mouth trying to work. "Hey! How ya
feeling?"

     Her voice was overly cheerful, Mulder thought. But it was a
beautiful sound nonetheless. He had expected her to be angry at him.
She had every right to be angry. But when he turned his head to face
her, he met with a huge grin that stretched for miles. Her eyes were
large balls of sunshine beaming at him and she looked as though she
wanted to scoop him up in her arms and hug him and pet him and squeeze
him. 

     Mulder's voice was raspy from none use and whatever tubes had
been previously stuck down his throat. He could only manage a whisper
when answering her question. "Like I got a ba-a-ad case of freezer
burn.... How did I get here?"

     "A Naval reconnaissance squad found you and choppered you to
Eisenhower Field.... Thanks for ditching me."

     Ouch. He knew that was coming. "I'm sorry," he apologized softly.
"I couldn't let you risk your life on this."

     Idiot, she thought to herself. Big, sweet, stupid idiot. "Did you
find what you were looking for?" she asked.

     His eyes closed as the memory of the alien on the submarine
looming over him returned. "She's alive," it told him, speaking of his
sister. "Can you die now?"

     "No," Mulder said, opening his eyes again and focusing on Scully.
"No, but I--I found something I thought I'd lost..."

     "You WILL find your sister someday," an unfamiliar but very
friendly voice echoed believably in his mind. Listening to the voice,
he'd nearly forgotten that Scully was sitting beside him, practically
on the edge of her seat waiting for him to continue. He came out of
himself long enough to complete his statement.  

     "...faith to keep looking."

     That was all he could manage for now. Sleep was calling to him
and he was finding it impossible to ignore. As he drifted off, he felt
a warmness stroke his temple and his lips curled into a smile. Soon,
he  found himself relaxing in the hot, bubbling waters of an outdoor
Jacuzzi. A red-headed Baywatch babe that looked remarkably like his
partner, cuddled up to him, rubbing her hand across his bare chest.

     "Is this heaven?" he asked her.

     "YOU tell me," she replied, licking her tongue along the side of
his face.

     Mulder moaned and sighed. "Well, maybe a little slice anyway."


The End


Hope you enjoyed. : )

Fran, aka DYNOJET@aol.com