From: "A. R." <conspiracy13@hotmail.com>
Date: Tue, 05 Feb 2002 05:08:00
Subject: xfc: East of Eden (NC-17) 
Source: xfc

Disclaimers, classifications, etc. at beginning of part one.

(3 of 6)
-----



Darkness. The diner was closed. Scully felt a sharp stab of
anxiety. What the hell was going on?

She walked up to the door and pushed on it in frustration - only
to nearly trip over herself when it gave easily despite the
"closed" sign just inside. She looked around the medium-sized room
cautiously, gripping her gun in its holster. There were windows on
all sides of the building. It didn't seem like an especially
secretive location, and she didn't see Krycek picking a place so
out in the open. Many things could be said of the bastard, but he
was not stupid.

Satisfied that the room was empty, she walked slowly around the
counter and back through the swinging doors that she assumed led
to the kitchen.

A noise.

Surveying the room she now stood in, she noticed that she had been
correct in her assumption. Sinks lined the far wall and pots hung
from a rack over the island in the center of the room. A dark
figure stood in the shadows of the far right corner. "Krycek?" she
asked in a low voice.

"Follow me." The shadow moved to the middle of the far wall and
walked through yet another door. She crossed the room swiftly and
did the same. The next room she entered appeared to be a small
lounge area, probably used by the owners and employees to relax in
during breaks or when business was especially slow. It was small,
with a few beat-up couches and chairs and a small radio that sat
atop a coffee table in the center. Krycek (or the shadow she
assumed to be Krycek) sat in one of the chairs, now in the far
left corner of the room.

"And now to shed a little light on things." He spoke with the same
cool tone as Marita had. She wondered who had rubbed off on whom.
After the words left his mouth, he reached over slowly and turned
on the tattered lamp that sat beside him. A dim light illuminated
the shabby room and she looked around once more, making sure that
she hadn't missed something in her earlier sweep.

"Have a seat, won't you, Agent Scully?"

He looked her straight in the eyes. The darkness in his pupils
enhanced by the strange glow of the light beside them sent chills
up her spine. She walked to the chair at her far right,
positioning herself in the corner across the room from him. A
silence fell over them for a brief time. He was looking her over,
studying her. It made her uncomfortable to the extreme. "What did
you bring me here for?"

A small smile curved the corners of his mouth upward. "Why, Agent
Scully, you brought yourself here."

She wanted to glare at him but stopped herself, remembering the
situation she was in. He had the answers she needed. She wouldn't
get anywhere being hostile. "You said you had answers."

"It's not all that easy, Agent Scully. As I believe our mutual
friend once told you, this will be much more conducive to both our
purposes if you ask the right questions rather than simply waiting
around for the answers."

She stared at him for a while, attempting to gage his sincerity.
"And what are the right questions?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Well, *Agent* Scully, you're the
investigator, not me. I'd guess that you just ask whatever it is
you'd like to know."

She took a deep breath. "On the phone you referred to my 'son.'
How do you know the child's a boy?"

"How do you know?" She didn't answer, just stared at him,
scrutinizing. "You had a dream, right? Well so did I."

His matter-of-fact tone shook her somewhat. "*You* had a dream
about *my* son?"

He nodded. "You ever seen any Stephen King movies, Agent Scully?"

"A few."

"Yeah, well, most of 'em are terrible- could never live up to the
books. But 'The Stand,' now that's a good movie. You seen it?" She
nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. "You know how all
the survivor's of the superflu are summoned by either God or the
devil through a dream? Well, it's kinda like that."

Scully stared at him silently for a moment, trying to decipher his
meaning. "Are you trying to tell me that the Apocalypse is coming
and my son has something to do with that?"

He smiled like the smart-ass that he was and clapped in approval.
"You catch on quick, little lady." She knew the last jab had been
an intentional attempt at getting a reaction out of her but she
didn't let it phase her.

"In what way?" she asked, much more calmly than she would have
believed possible at that moment.

He smiled wryly. "That is the question, isn't it?" One more
thoughtful stare in her direction. "I suppose it is in my best
interests for you to be informed. Shall we start at the
beginning?"

She nodded even though she knew it hadn't really been a question.

"Thirty-something years ago - lending towards 40, I might add -
Bill Mulder was part of this group that some have taken to calling
the 'syndicate'. As one of the big players in this group, Mr.
Mulder was expected to make certain sacrifices toward its greater
purpose." He looked at her again to make sure she was paying close
attention. "You see, Agent Scully, for many, many years, those in
power have been aware of the existence of extra-terrestrial life.
For about that long, perhaps longer, there has been an ongoing war
between two different species of aliens - whom we only know as the
grays and the shape-shifters. The grays are simply a super-evolved
virus that originated on this planet, while the others are, well,
from somewhere else. This war between the two really has little to
do with us besides the fact that Earth happens to be a good
location for a military base - aside from our pesky little race.
The grays feel they're entitled to Earth because of their origins,
and the shape-shifters don't really give a fuck what they're
entitled to, they just want Earth because the gray's want Earth."
Krycek paused. "You still with me?"

Scully nodded her understanding even as she held back the million
protests that came to her mind. The whole thing sounded like a
cheesy sci-fi movie.

"So anyway, the original goal of the Project was basically to save
the human race. The grays have a virus; for 50 years we've been
working on vaccines and alien-human hybrids with built-in
immunities. The shape-shifters have poisonous blood and only one
point of vulnerability; we've worked on special weapons and still
more hybrids. Your 'partner' is one of the only four successful
hybrids ever created." A small smile crossed his face as he waited
for the information to sink in.

Scully simply stared at him in shock, unable to formulate words,
let alone the arguments that she wanted to give him.

"One of the sacrifices Bill Mulder made for his race," Krycek said
matter-of-factly. "His wife was pregnant. He was asked by the rest
of the group to allow the doctors to do experiments on her, on
their unborn child, using technology gleaned by tests during the
Second World War. He talked about it with Teena, and they agreed.
A few years later, when all seemed to be going well with Fox,
Teena got pregnant again, and once more, they performed the
procedures on her. A certain English gentleman, whom I believe
you've met, also allowed this procedure to be done on his wife
while she was pregnant. The three resulting children, Fox,
Samantha, and Peter, were the first three successful alien-human
hybrids - immune to both the black cancer and the toxicity of the
shape-shifters' blood."

Scully had to think for a moment to realize what was wrong with
this. "But Mulder isn't immune to their blood. He's been affected
by it before. He almost died."

Krycek smiled. "But he didn't die, Agent Scully. Therein lies the
medical feat. A normal person under the same conditions would
have."

She shook her head. "But I've seen two people who were exposed to
it and lived."

"These people obviously were not exposed for very long. Mulder's
physiology would allow him to be exposed for up to 24 hours and
still recover fully."

She nodded slowly, letting the medical questions in her head fall
away for the moment. "So what happened to Samantha and Peter? Why
was she abducted?"

"Sadly, the experiments were not as lucrative as the group had
hoped. Shortly after Peter was... *modified*, there was a fire at
the lab. All the doctors' notes were burned. They had performed
the procedure successfully only three times, and were unable to
remember everything perfectly. They had already begun cloning
experimentation and decided that if they could clone the three
successful specimens exactly, they could create an entire army of
people able to fight the aliens. But Bill wasn't willing to give
up both his children to this research. He was given the choice of
which child he could keep. For whatever reason, he chose his son.
Samantha and Peter were both abducted soon after. As you know,
Samantha's situation didn't work out quite as well as had been
hoped. Clones have since been made from genetic material gathered
from her during the testing, but only a short time after her
original abduction, she ran away from the compound and
disappeared. Peter died during one of the tests at age 17."

This was too much information to take in all at once. Scully
resigned herself to simply listen to everything he had to say and
try and fathom it later when she was alone. Right now she simply
needed all the information she could keep in her brain so that
when she did attempt to process it, the story would be as complete
as possible. "You said there were four successful hybrids."

He smiled again. She wanted to kick in those nice white teeth he
kept flashing. "My, my, you *have* been paying attention. I was a
little afraid all this was going over your head." Once more, she
had to hold back her glare.

"Yes," he continued, "the fourth was Cassandra Spender. The first
success since the fire all those years ago. And she was actually
modified as an adult human being. You have no idea what a great
leap forward she was. Sadly, certain Project motivations have
changed since then."

"What is the purpose of the 'Project' now?" She caught his eye for
a few moments and for the first time since she'd first met him,
felt that she was, indeed, seeing another human being rather than
the cold-blooded killer responsible for Bill Mulder's death,
perhaps her sister's.

"Well," he started off slowly, "that's a complicated question with
a complicated answer." He paused. "A small group of us, myself and
the late Ms. Covarrubias included..." he paused for a moment on
Marita's name and Scully thought she detected a hint of sadness,
but it was gone too quickly to be sure. "We still hold the same
objective, even though many of us weren't a part of it in the
early days. I may be a selfish bastard, but I'd rather fight for
humanity than against it." He stared off into the dimly lit room
for a few moments, as if slipping into a nightmare. His face
looked extremely disturbed. Scully wondered what horrible things
he saw when he closed his eyes. "The older members of the group,
up until their untimely deaths," he grinned sarcastically, "had
since abandoned their goal of a future for the human race, and
were focusing more on a future for themselves. Picking sides on
who they thought could win the war, and making deals with that
side to make invasion smoother as long as their lives would be
spared. If not for the rebel shape-shifters that showed up and
started that little 'bonfire', they were prepared to turn
Cassandra Spender - their greatest tool against invasion - over to
the aliens."

"What about CGB Spender?" Scully asked. "What was his goal?"

He chuckled. "That's a good question. He was always the greatest
proponent of both sides. I think his ultimate goal was his own
survival, but his plan was to make deals with the aliens just in
case, while at the same time buying more time to work on the
vaccine and the hybrids." He paused once more to stare at Scully.
"He was never that close to his son, but he was close to Bill
Mulder. Probably even had an affair with his wife. He considered
Fox his son. Thought he would save humanity. When it became
apparent to him that this was not *Fox* Mulder's fate, he decided
to ensure that there would be another. That's where your son comes
in."

Scully took a deep breath. "Mulder's immunities can be passed on?"

"They're in his genes. These experiments they did on his mother
were high-tech, even for now. Gene therapy. And this kid's not
just getting the immunities from his dad either."

A chill crawled up her spine. "What do you mean?"

"The chip he gave you. It's the newest technology. Created using
data from Cassandra's tests. The eggs it allows you to create are
specially modified with their own immunities. This child should be
able to drink alien blood and not even flinch."

A wave of nausea crashed over her. She didn't know whether to be
happy or outraged. Her child would be safe. But with his safety
came obligations and responsibilities that no human should have to
deal with. "Will his blood be toxic to humans?"

Krycek's eyes lit up with excitement in a way that reminded her of
Mulder. "Is Mulder's? That's the beauty of it - they're human
enough not to be a threat to us, but alien enough to be safe
around them."

Scully had a sudden thought. "What was your dream about?"

Krycek looked confused but she had a feeling he knew exactly what
she meant.

"Your dream," she repeated. "You said you had a dream that told
you I would have a son. Like in 'The Stand'."

It took him what seemed like several minutes to respond. "I was in
this desert," he began slowly. "The ground was red and cracking
from the dry heat, and... and you were there. You were pregnant.
But then..." He shut his eyes and furrowed his brow, trying to
remember. "Then I didn't see you anymore. There was a man. Deep
red hair and hazel eyes, and... I knew he was your son. And he was
going to save humanity." He looked up and into her eyes. The
intensity of his frightened her, but she couldn't look away. "He
had a mark on his forehead." He placed his fingers in the center
of his own forehead to demonstrate. "And all I could think of was
that, that Bible story. The one where the man kills his brother
and God curses him to walk the Earth with a mark on his forehead."

"So no one would kill him," Scully interjected.

He looked confused as he continued to rub the spot on his forehead
lightly. "Yeah..." He was lost in thought for a moment. "Cain," he
said, as if he had just remembered the correct answer to a
Jeopardy question. "The story of Cain and Able. Cain was the one
with the mark."

Scully nodded and took a deep breath. What did all of this mean?
She felt like clues were being thrown at her wherever she went but
she didn't know how they fit together. She was constantly being
given the pieces to a giant jigsaw puzzle but had no idea what it
was supposed to look like in the end.

*Tell Cain that his father loves him.*

*Cain.*

*Possession.*

"Are you religious?" It was the only question she could think to
ask at the moment and for some reason it seemed relevant.

He thought for a moment. "Not for a long time. I was raised
Russian Orthodox, but the things I deal with on a day-to-day basis
haven't exactly allowed a lot of room for *God*." Again he was
silent. She waited. "But things like that dream... How can you not
believe in *something* at a time like this?"

She nodded and looked down at her hands. Her emotions were
confusing her to no end. She had hated this man for years, but
suddenly found herself inexplicably drawn to him. As though she
shared with him some sort of kinship that she couldn't shake
despite the protests of her brain.

"Where's Mulder?" she finally asked. She hoped that she really
wanted to hear the answer.

He looked at his own hands for several seconds, deep in thought.
When he spoke, his voice had lost every trace of the smart-ass
attitude he had first put up. "I don't know." He looked around the
room as Scully waited for more. There had to be more. "They took
him, I know that much. But I don't know which They, and I don't
know what They plan to do with him."

"The shape-shifters or the grays?"

"Or the other members of the syndicate. There are still some of
'em around. However, I think the first two choices are much more
likely, judging from Skinner's testimony. We don't have ships as
big as the one he described."

"Why do They abduct people? I assumed that the abductions were
government-related. Tests to help with work on the vaccines, the
hybrids."

He drew a deep breath. "Most of them are. We're not exactly sure
why the aliens abduct people. Usually it's the grays that take
them. Shape-shifters seem to like having as little to do with us
as possible. We assume the grays' tests are to determine as much
about human physiology as possible to figure out the quickest
method of invasion."

"But why waste all that time? Over 50 years of planning just to
take over a planet that has little more consequence to them than a
good military base?"

"There are fewer of them than there are of us. They have a longer
reproductive cycle and consequently a deeper regard for life. They
can't afford to lose many if they should have to fight for Earth.
They also live a lot longer than we do. 50 years isn't that
significant."

"So they could be taking former abductees in order to gain more
scientific results. They have a particular test group." Something
was beginning to click in her head. "Which is why I wasn't in
danger. I was taken by the government, whereas the people that are
being taken now were real abductees."

Krycek nodded. "But that still doesn't explain Mulder. He hasn't
been taken before."

"No," she agreed, "but he does have alien genes. And he
experienced that telepathy earlier this year. What did They do to
him? His head was injured as if he had had some sort of surgery."

Krycek took a deep breath. "I have no idea. I was in prison. The
impression I have is that everyone involved in that operation is
now dead except for the doctor who performed it. And I have no
idea who that could have been." He looked at his watch quickly, as
if suddenly remembering an appointment he was already late for.
"Well, Agent Scully, it's been fun, but I believe our time is up.
I'm afraid I won't be able to contact you for some time." He
stood. Despite the sudden reversal into his usual demeanor, his
last words were sincere. "Good luck." And then he was gone. He was
out the back door before she could stand from her chair. She
thought about locking the diner before she left, but realized she
had no keys and exited the small building quietly. The darkness
was a comforting escape as she made her way slowly back to the
house.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*In a constant dream state, but never asleep. All my memories seep
from me as they happen, like discarded candy wrappers, useful only
until the moment has passed. They never leave, instead lying on
the floor of my brain - unimportant trash that becomes a colorful
foil and plastic-wrap carpet.

*All is now. Now is all. Everything. I see all. I know all.
Everything in the universe and beyond within my vision and my
comprehension. To use words is distasteful, inadequate. But all I
have for you are words, Scully. I need to think the words so that
if I can no longer grasp my vision when I am returned, perhaps I
can remember the words I would use to describe it to you. And I
will return. Despite what you will be told, it is not the feuding
nations of the universe that have abducted me for some horrible
purpose.

*You believe in God, I believe in This.

*This force that has taken me. Through the grays but not with
them. I saw him and I knew. The others did not. Him with the face
of one who has killed so many, a face which has become many, mine
among them. Not the same man behind this face. Not even man in the
loosest sense of the word - with which I would refer to the
original owner of that face. The others were taken by the grays.
They did not see the man who smiled at me with knowledge that I
soon attained. He took on that face for the sake of my mind. That
fear is gone now. The fear that I would not, could not handle his
true form. I am one with him now. His form becomes mine, his mind,
a looking glass, through which I see and understand All.

*Soon I will be with you, away from This, this memory discarded
like the rest but not gone. Understanding will be in the back of
my mind to guide me, but Understanding, like the memory, will be
thin tinfoil on the ground. Do not fear fate, Scully. It is
predetermined. Our son has a fate and he will fulfill it. A name
does not matter. He *is* Cain.*

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Genesis 4: 1
And Adam knew Eve his wife: who conceived and brought forth Cain,
saying: I have gotten a man through God.

-----
March, 2001
-----

She felt like she was being ripped in two. The painkillers hadn't
helped nearly as much as she thought they should have. She had
seen how many drugs they pumped her full of, and despite the years
of medical study, she could not believe that she could still feel
anything.

Margaret was by her side, letting the bones of her hand be crushed
against each other tight enough that Scully was mildly surprised
her mother didn't need a little lidocaine of her own.

She had considered a natural birth, but now decided the drugs had
been a very good idea. A few local anesthetics couldn't hurt the
kid, and going without them would sure as hell have hurt her. The
doctor kept telling her to push, so she kept pushing, but the
whole thing felt futile. She had first started having contractions
roughly 28 hours ago. From the time she'd gotten to the hospital,
they'd been sitting around trying to get the baby out (or rather,
walking around. Then sitting. And laying.), and for all 28 hours,
the stubborn little thing would not cooperate. Finally, she heard
the words she'd been waiting for.

"She's crowning!" The doctor yelled excitedly from between her
legs. "Keep pushing!" She wanted to slug the happy little paper-
faced, eyeglass-wearing bastard. Better yet, she was almost sure
her weapon was lying in pile of clothes somewhere around here. But
she continued to push, realizing that the order was probably to
her benefit.

Ah, relief. A short time later, (VERY short in comparison to the
previous 28 hours) almost all the pain was gone. She heard crying.

*That's my baby.*

Her heart almost stopped in her chest from the emotion that
wailing brought to her.

"We've got a boy." Before Scully knew what had happened, the
infant was in her arms, staring up at her as though he were deeply
pissed to be removed from his cozy little home and brought into
the harsh light of the world. Or at least the harsh florescent
light of the hospital room.

*I'd be upset too, baby.*

He was beautiful. A small swirl of dark hair was stuck to the top
of his head. His eyes squinted to the point of closure as his
entire face scrunched as closely together as possible to shut out
every tiny ray of the horrible brightness.

For the first time in roughly 7 months, Scully really smiled.

"What's his name?" one of the nurses asked, holding a sheet of paper.

Her eyes didn't leave the tiny infant. The smile was plastered on
her face. "Nathaniel. Nathaniel Cain." She couldn't be sure why
she said it. The middle name she had planned on was William. A
tribute to her father and the baby's.

"Nathaniel Cain Scully?" the woman asked.

Scully felt a small stab in her chest and tears welled in her eyes
at the conflicting emotions, but the smile stayed across her mouth
and in her eyes as she finally looked up at the woman. "Yes."

She looked back at her son and kissed his forehead softly, letting
a few tears slide down her cheeks in complete awe of the life that
she held in her arms.

*Nathaniel Cain Scully.*

*March 29th, 2001.*

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-----
May, 2001
-----

Scully was sitting on her mother's couch, nursing Nathan when the
phone rang. Not her mother's phone, but the cell phone in her
jacket pocket on the chair across the room from her. It had to be
the guys. They were the only ones who called that number anymore.
Stored up vacation time had lasted her quite a while, and she had
only been back to work a couple months before taking maternity
leave. After all she had gone through - Skinner's death, Mulder's
disappearance, and so on - the bureau had been surprisingly
understanding of the sudden surge of time off. It probably helped
that she'd taken no more than two vacations in the last 8 years.

Standing awkwardly, with the baby still held to her chest, Scully
walked slowly across the carpet and used one hand to fish the
phone out of her coat pocket, pressing send with her thumb as she
brought it to her ear.

"Scully."

No words were spoken, but she could hear heavy breathing on the
other line. Chills went up her spine. It couldn't be. It just
couldn't. There was no way.

*Mulder?*

"Cold, Scully." It was his voice. His breathing continued on,
labored. "So cold."

She sat down to avoid dropping Nathaniel as her knees started to
give out. "Mulder? Mulder, where are you?"

Only his breathing filled the air. She waited.

"I... It's cold, Scully. I don't... I don't know where I am."

Nathan stopped suckling and grabbed at her fingers as he gurgled
softly and began to drool. She tucked the phone between her ear
and shoulder and adjusted the infant onto his stomach over her
other shoulder, softly patting him at a speed ten times slower
than her pulse.

"Mulder? Can you see anything? What's around you?"

She could hear the tears choking his voice. She wanted to cry with
him, but needed to find him first. "It's dark, Scully." A solitary
sob broke through and he seemed to gain some confidence with this
release. "I... there are cars. It's... a highway, a road of some
sort."

She questioned him carefully, like a little boy who had witnessed
a horrible crime. "Are there signs anywhere? Do you see any
landmarks?"

He sniffed into the phone. "I'm at a pay phone outside a diner."

What?

Why hadn't he mentioned the diner in the first place? It seemed
odd that he'd notice the road before his more immediate
surroundings.

"Mulder, what does it look like? Is there a sign on the diner? Is
the traffic heavy on the road?"

He made some more sniffing sounds. His voice was suddenly more
confused and awestruck than frustrated. "Where am I?" There was a
slight pause and he seemed to notice the phone for the first time.
"Scully? Scully, where are you?"

Her head was swimming. Nathan burped finally. "At my mother's.
Mulder, where are *you*? What does the diner look like?"

Silence for several seconds. She felt the baby squirming against
her to break free. Only then did she realize how tightly she'd
been holding him.

"Diner?"

She moved Nathan back to a lying position in the cradle of her
arms. "Yes, diner. You said you were at a payphone outside a
diner, Mulder."

"No, I'm..." His voice was even more dazed than before. "I'm on
the street. Outside your mother's house. I'm down the street. At
the pay phone."

"How did you get there, Mulder? You just said you were by a
highway, and then outside a diner. What's going on?"

"No, no, I'm outside the convenience store down the street from
your mother's house. I... I must have been confused..." He didn't
sound convinced.

"I'll be there in two seconds, Mulder." She hung up the phone and
quickly stood, carrying the infant into the kitchen where Maggie
was making dinner. "Mom, would you mind taking care of Nathan for
a minute." She paused, unsure of how to state the circumstances.
"Mulder's back."

Margaret stared at her daughter in shock. "What did you say?"

"Mulder's been returned. He's at the convenience store down the
street. I have to go get him."

Mrs. Scully looked at her daughter with a confused expression, but
nodded and took the baby from her arms.

"I'll be back in a minute." With that, she rushed out of the
house, to her car.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She found him exactly where he had described. Sitting on the
ground inside the glass telephone booth, obviously collapsed from
exhaustion. She could see the various rips and gashes in his
clothing even from her car. His back was pressed into the glass
wall of the booth, his legs bent and pressed together awkwardly to
fit into the small space. The telephone hung off its hook and his
head drooped forward as if unconscious. He looked like hell. He
looked like hell and, next to her son, he was the most beautiful
thing she had seen in her life.

Before even consciously getting out of her car, she was by his
side, kneeling beside the open wall of the booth where the door
should have been and checking his forehead with the back of her
hand. His skin was cold as ice.

"Mulder, can you hear me?" She grabbed his face by the chin and
turned his head in her direction, using her other hand to lift his
eyelids so she could look into his eyes.

His leg twitched. She jumped back slightly, caught off-guard. As
she moved closer to him again, his entire body spasmed suddenly.
His eyes opened. He stared straight into her.

"Mulder? Mulder, can you hear me?" It took him several seconds to
respond.

"Scully?"

She smiled and touched his face gently. "I'm here, Mulder. Can you
stand on your own?"

His eyes were wild, but they never left her face. "Scully? How did
you find me?"

Her smile faded and she stared at him with genuine concern.
"Mulder? You called me. From the payphone." She motioned to the
receiver hanging in front of his face by its cord. He stared at it
as though it were some alien object, then back at her. Finally he
looked around at his surroundings. He seemed to become more
confused with each new object that entered his vision.

"I... I don't remember." He looked at her desperately, willing her
to take away the haze that his mind was floating through. "We're
near your mother's house, aren't we?"

She nodded, a sinking feeling pulling at her gut. "Yeah, Mulder.
That's where I was when you called me." She surveyed his face for
any signs of recognition. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He gnawed on his lower lip thoughtfully, closing his eyes for a
brief moment. "Oregon. With Skinner. We found the ship. It was
hidden, but we found it with the laser beams." He could see the
concern deepen in her eyes. "What? How long have I been gone?"

She drew in a deep breath slowly and let it out even slower.
"About 9 months." He watched her glance downward. "A lot's
happened." She wouldn't meet his eyes for a long time. Finally,
she stood. "Can you get up on your own? Are you injured?"

Gingerly, he tried out his muscles. Everything seemed in working
order. He lifted himself from the ground with a little help from
her and the ledge below the pay phone.

She still would not look at his face.

"What is it?" he asked as they walked slowly towards her car.

"What do you mean?" Her eyes were focused straight ahead on the
vehicle. "Mulder, you've been gone for almost an entire year and
you just show up. I can't help feeling slightly odd."

He swallowed. "I... I'm sorry."

The nearly silent words stopped her in her tracks as they were
just approaching the vehicle. She turned to face him. She could
remember hearing those words from his lips very few times in the
past 8 or so years. Tears welled in the bottoms of her eyes.
"No... no, you have no reason to be sorry. It's not like any of
this is your fault." For some reason her mind flashed to the note
she had found in her apartment when Marita was killed.

*You're next.*

*Mulder's handwriting.*

She pushed the thought out of her head.

"There are just some *things* that you need to know before we get
in that car and go back to my mother's."

His brow creased in concern and curiosity. "What happened while I
was gone?"

She stared at the ground for exactly 6 seconds. She was counting.
"Um... Marita Covarrubias is dead. Murdered."

*Start with the smallest blow.*

He looked at her, confused. "That's not exactly earth-shattering."
She was still looking at the ground, obviously upset. He
backtracked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she was helpful, and she
probably didn't deserve to die, but..."

Her head made a small movement sideways that he interpreted as a
cue to stop talking. "There's more. Skinner..." She trailed off
and took another deep breath. "Skinner's been killed as well." She
could see the pain that instantly swept over his face. He looked
away from her and she placed a hand on his bicep. The contact felt
good. Real.

He chewed on his lower lip silently and nodded. "How?" He made his
voice casual. A defense mechanism she could spot from miles away.

"Strangled. By the..." She tried to think of a term for the man
that didn't seem so bad-horror-movie-esque, but failed. "...the
Bounty Hunter. He... He posed as Skinner for several days with no
one's knowledge."

Mulder had a sudden flash of a man consumed in light, staring at
him with a knowing smile. He pushed it from his brain. "I suppose
there's been an investigation." It wasn't really a question.

"Yes."

"And I suppose they've had no leads."

She swallowed and looked away in shame, though without specific
knowledge of the situation Mulder could not recognize it as such.
"No."

He took a deep breath and finally looked at her, though she still
turned her attention towards the parked car. "What else?" he
asked.

Her eyes fluttered around, looking to the ground, to the store
they stood in front of, looking everywhere but at him.

*Screw your courage to the sticking place, Dana.*

One deep breath and she looked him square in the eye. "The day
you... disappeared, I found out..." *Inhale, exhale.* "I found out
I was pregnant."

*Inhale, exhale.*

*Inhale, exhale.*

He stared at her with wide eyes full of an emotion that she could
not place. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Mulder had a sudden flash of something. Memory or premonition, he
couldn't be sure. A young man with fiery red hair and deep hazel
eyes looking straight at him, straight into him.

"Cain."

Scully's head shot up at the single syllable. "What did you say?"

Mulder stared at her, as confused by her reaction as by his own
tongue. "Cain. I said Cain. Why? Does... Does that mean something
to you?"

Her attention turned, once more, to the ground beneath her feet.
"It's... it's our son's middle name."

*Our son.*

The pronoun use seemed to have an effect on him as well. A small
smile slowly broke out across his face. He gulped down the tears
that began to invade his vision. One big arm wrapped around her
tiny frame, and then another until she was pressed tightly to his
chest. Her hands found their way up his back and she returned the
embrace. Her body began to shake against his with rough sobs.

"Shhhh..." His whisper in her ear nearly made her knees give out.
It had been so long.

So, so long.

"C'mon," he whispered into her ear, "Let's blow this pop stand."

She smiled weakly into his dirty, torn sweatshirt.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-----
November, 2000
-----

Nothing out of the ordinary for nearly six weeks. The inactivity
was driving Scully into depression. She had never been depressed
for any length of time, always believing that wallowing in
feelings of any sort, the bad ones especially, could only be
counterproductive. Recently, however, she had found herself in a
bad mood almost constantly. She was irritable, distressed, and
above all, moody - something she had never been accused of in her
life. After returning to work a month and a half ago, after Mulder
had vanished, she had worked only one field case. It was a
disappearance in a suburb of Washington and had been solved easily
when the girl's body was found in her boyfriend's car, 40 ft. deep
in a local lake. She was found after the boyfriend confessed to
driving into the lake drunk and not being able to save her. The
kid was too scared to call the police or tell her family. It had
been tragic for both families. The situation hadn't exactly helped
Scully's emotional state either.

So much had happened recently that she couldn't be sure which was
most responsible for her depression - hormones from the pregnancy,
Mulder's disappearance, Skinner's death... What bothered her the
most about the last one was the sinking feeling she kept having
that if Mulder had been around they might have been able to bring
their superior some sort of justice. Mulder would have fought for
it. She was too chicken-shit even to try. And for once, the
scientific explanation wasn't making things any easier - the fact
that her hormones were making her depressed didn't alleviate the
very real circumstances that added to that depression. Instead,
this explanation just made her feel like her body was betraying
her.

And now she had someone new to report to.

The new assistant director was a man named Kerby D. Dwight. He
seemed kind enough. In many ways he even reminded her of Skinner.
But, being new to the job, and facing the added strain of trying
to appear stern despite the goofy name, the new A. D. had more
important things to worry about than field agents who reported
directly to him. And so Skinner's former workload had been shifted
around throughout the bureau. When Scully had first heard the name
of her new superior, she nearly had a physical reaction. Standing
outside of his office now, staring once more at the nameplate as
she waited to go in for a meeting, the sick feeling came back to
her.

Section Chief Thomas Colton.

Apparently one of the higher-ups had felt it was a favor - one
deserved by her present situation. No one knew she was pregnant
yet; they had simply taken pity on her for all of the other things
that were gong on in her life. Part of her also believed that
these *favors* were a kind of retribution for what they had
assumed was the horrible chore of being Spooky's babysitter all
these years. Someone had discovered that she and Colton had gone
through the Academy together and seemed to be friends, and so felt
they were doing her a service by assigning her to her old buddy.
She wanted to find this kind-hearted soul and kick him or her in
the shins.

Knocking on the door politely, she heard the trademark little
smart-ass sneer from within the large office. "Come in!"

She walked into the well-lit room that was roughly half the size
of Skinner's and sat down in what had become her designated chair,
wrapping the heavy trench coat more tightly around her. Part of
the reason no one was presently aware of her physical condition
was her change in wardrobe. She had plenty of larger clothes in
the back of her closet from when she had put on some weight a few
year's ago, and had taken to wearing those once more to hide the
excess "weight" she carried now. Tom had commented a few times on
why she didn't take off her coat, but had since learned not to
ask. It didn't do him any good.

For his part, he had been mostly civil, aside from a few snide
comments about Mulder or the X-Files that seemed to slip into his
everyday speech - which was not an intelligent strategy
considering Mulder's absence. Scully wanted to punch the little
bastard square in the teeth with each little smirk he gave her. He
accepted her reports though, and didn't seem all that displeased
with them - even if they did bend towards the paranormal. She
wondered sometimes if he had been told to take it easy on her. She
also wondered what the hell was with all the special treatment. It
didn't seem standard for people who'd been through traumatic
experiences. Bureau policy usually indicated that everyone was to
pull their own weight and if they had problems with that, there
was always the "Employee Assistance Program."

"Dana," Colton acknowledged as she took her seat.

"Tom." Though she had been extremely weary, her old "friend" had
insisted that she call him by his first name. He seemed to have no
trouble using hers.

"I trust you've filled out your division's expense reports for the
past couple of months."

She nodded and handed him the papers. He looked them over as she
sat silently, glancing around the office at pictures of the man in
front of her. Tom with the President. Tom with the director. Tom
with who she assumed to be his wife. So much success. Again, she
wanted to vomit.

He looked up and smiled at her. "Okay then, everything seems to be
in order. I trust that you have something lined up for the next
few weeks?"

She nodded. That was something else that disturbed her: the
freedom she was being allowed. Colton had basically told her that
he didn't know how the X-Files division was run, so she could do
whatever the hell she wanted as long as he could see she was doing
*something*. This was definitely not bureau policy, and he had
always been by the book.

"Then I guess I'll see you next week."

Here goes nothing.

"Actually, Tom, there's one more thing I needed to talk to you
about."

"Yes?" God, he was looking at her. She didn't want to admit it to
herself, but she was embarrassed. She didn't want to care what
this man thought of her. She didn't want to tell him what she had
to tell him. She didn't want to talk to him about anything this
personal and have to look at that ass-kissing little smirk that
said he was better than her.

"Um..." She took a deep breath. "In about two months, I'll be
taking 12 weeks off of work." Another breath. "As is standard
bureau allowance for maternity leave."

He simply stared at her for a long time, and then something
finally seemed to click in his brain, and he began to laugh. She
couldn't believe her eyes. His laughter escalated to the point of
a full, throaty chuckle, and he leaned back in his chair, patting
his chest to calm himself down. "It's Spooky's, isn't it? Forgot
to use birth control and got you knocked-up before he was
'abducted.'"

She closed her eyes and set her jaw to restrain herself. "The
circumstances of my pregnancy are personal information which I'd
rather not discuss with you, *Agent* Colton. However, the fact
remains that I *am* pregnant, and I am giving you advance notice
of my leave, which I have legal right to."

He smiled at her. "C'mon Dana, lighten up. I can't very well
*deny* you maternity leave. Hell, take 20 weeks off for all I
care." A thoughtful look passed across his face for a moment. "In
fact, maybe you should. You didn't quite use up all your vacation
time anyway."

"Tom, I have two days left."

"Two days, two months, what difference does it make?" He smiled as
if he had made a hilarious joke. "Look, in all honesty, I think a
12 month maternity leave is ridiculous. With 20 weeks, you can be
home three months before the baby's born, and two months after.
What do you say?"

She stared at him in confusion. The paranoid part of her brain
that Mulder had rubbed off on told her that he was just trying to
get her away from work, so she couldn't find any answers. The
logical part of her brain told her that she wasn't exactly finding
any answers anyway, so what was the point of resisting?

"You're serious?"

"As a heart attack." Once more, he flashed those perfectly
engineered pearly whites. If only he knew how much his smile
annoyed her, maybe he'd stop showing it so damn much. Come to
think of it, if he knew, he'd probably walk around grinning 24
hours a day.

"I guess I'll think about it."

Shit-eating grin #563. "You do that, Dana. I'll see you in a
week."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-----
May, 2001
-----

They had ended the embrace and walked to the car silently, holding
hands. After so much time apart, Scully almost felt that physical
contact was necessary to keep him from slipping away.

The drive was mostly silent, with careful glances and small,
casual touches that both of them needed from each other more than
any words. But when the car pulled up beside her mother's house,
Scully's chest began to tighten. She didn't know why she was so
nervous. She took slow, deep breaths and undid her seatbelt,
stepping out of the car. Only then did she notice that Mulder
hadn't moved since she'd parked.

"Mulder?" she asked, ducking her head back into the vehicle.

His expression was blank - what she recognized as his panicked
look. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead.

"Yeah, um..." Finally, he turned his head in her direction.
"Scully, you think it'd be okay if I just sat in here for a while.
I... I need to get my head straight before..." He let out a breath
she hadn't noticed him holding and looked downward. "Before I meet
him."

"Of course not." She stared at him as he continued to let his eyes
flicker around the car's interior. "I'll stay with you."

"No." His protest was immediate. "No, I... I think I need some
time alone, to... to work some things through in my mind."

"Mulder, he's 2 months old. Saying the wrong thing isn't going to
do that much damage." She sat back down in the driver's seat and
took his hand.

His eyelids fell heavily against his cheeks. "I just..." He opened
his eyes and stared at her, tears beginning to invade his vision.
She felt the hazel depths tugging at her heart. "Scully, I'm a
father. A *father*. I... It's just so... *huge*. It's the biggest
thing I've ever done and I feel like I've already sort of...
screwed up." He looked away from her.

Scully's own eyes filled with tears. Out of sympathy and empathy.
"Mulder, you haven't screwed up. Don't you think I felt like a
failure? Here I am bringing a child into a world that's turning
upside down for me every day - offering him nothing. No family, no
real stability, not even my full attention because I couldn't be
bothered to focus completely on the pregnancy when *I* was feeling
depressed." She squeezed his hand almost forcefully. "But I had to
get over that feeling. For him. And by putting it aside, I let
myself focus on what was really important. And the feeling went
away because there was no reason for it anymore." She nodded her
head forward to meet his eye and hold it. "Now we are going to
walk into that house together, you are going to hold your son, and
you are going to stop blaming yourself for everything right here
and now." Her eye gained a humorous glint and she smiled. "It'll
be the first selfless thing you've done and it'll make me love you
even more if you can carry through with it."

His lips curved upward slightly, but the sorrow was still in his
once more downcast eyes. "And what if I can't?"

She leaned towards him until their foreheads touched. "Then I'll
love you anyway."

He pulled his forehead away from her and tilted his chin upward,
smiling softly. She let him kiss her gently for a full 30 seconds,
returning the gesture only when he seemed completely sure of
himself. After what seemed like an instant and an eternity
simultaneously, she broke away and smiled at him.

"Somewhat reassured now?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Somewhat."

The light in her eyes seemed to electrify. "Well then, I guess
I'll just have to reassure you a little more." He reached for her
arm. "Later." She smiled and got out of the car once more and
began walking towards her mother's doorway. There was only a short
pause before she heard him following after her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-----
October, 2000
-----

Her vacation time was up. For over a month Scully had been working
with the Gunmen, trying to find any possible leads, but nothing
concrete had come from any of their work. She had gone into her
own savings account for money to fly to different spots around the
country where there had been reports of group abductions, and
everywhere she went, she came across the same story: people
claiming to have been multiple abductees at one time or another,
now gone without a trace. The police had nothing; the locals had
no idea of what might have happened other than the widely held
belief that they'd all been taken again. The reports had come from
15 different towns. Scully only bothered visiting three of them on
her own time and money. It was becoming glaringly obvious that the
same scenario had played out in each one of these small
communities. All that surprised her was the lack of news coverage.
No media seemed to have picked up on any of the stories save the
local news channels in the affected towns. Scully knew that she
shouldn't be going around to these places under the guise of a
federal agent when she was not in fact assigned to the
investigation, but no one *was* assigned, and with Skinner gone
and she not under the direct supervision of anyone at the moment,
she found it unlikely that anyone would care enough to stop her.

The Gunmen had helped her first by finding the abduction reports,
since it seemed no one had filed their report to the bureau yet,
strangely enough. They then looked for similarities between the
various communities. The only commonality appeared to be the size
of the towns. All were small, approximately 12,000 to 15,000 in
population - which made it even more unbelievable that this story
had been completely missed by the media. In areas that small, the
disappearances of 10 to 15 people in a short amount of time should
have been a huge event. With every new case the Gunmen found,
Scully became more and more suspicious of the absence of reports
coming through to the FBI. Now that she was going back to work,
though, she intended to find out more.

Then she had discovered who she would be assigned to. Tom Colton.
She had received an anonymous letter with a bureau seal informing
her of the identity of her new superior and indicating that the
reassignment had been a favor earned by years of hard work and the
obvious difficulty of her present situation. What a load of bull.

She had just had her first meeting with 'Tom,' as he insisted she
address him. He had assured her that as the sole agent assigned to
the X-Files for the time being, she would be granted a great
amount of freedom in her work, but her first request had been shot
down that first meeting. She informed him of the group abduction
cases and he hadn't even blinked.

"Dana, I understand this is a difficult time for you. But I'm
afraid you're looking for connections that just aren't there. We
already have a team of agents working on Mulder's case. Feel free
to give them the information you believe you've uncovered, but
remember, people disappear everyday. It's a coincidence. And no
reports have been filed to the bureau. Quite frankly, it's not our
jurisdiction and you're lucky that I sympathize with your
situation enough not to give you an official reprimand for what
you've just told me."

She was sick and tired of people sympathizing with her situation.
They didn't even know what the hell her situation was. But it
didn't change the fact that she wasn't getting any of the bureau's
help on this. She didn't have the funds to keep doing the field-
work on her own and truthfully, she didn't know that she even had
the will any longer. She had stopped crying almost a month ago -
not because she didn't feel the grief and frustration anymore, but
because she simply couldn't find the energy. She knew that Mulder
would have kept fighting, would have never stopped looking for
her, but she was tired of fighting. Maybe the bounty hunter had
been telling her the truth that night when he posed as Skinner.
Maybe it had been a single act of mercy on his part to advise her
of the only real course of action possible - she would just have
to wait.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-----
May, 2001
-----

Scully waited for Mulder to join her at her mother's doorstep
before unlocking the entrance and stepping inside. He followed her
tentatively. She didn't know that she'd ever seen him this scared
in all their years working together. The man was practically
shaking.

As she closed the door behind them, Margaret entered the front
room from the kitchen. "Fox!" Scully could see the tears in her
mother's eyes as the older woman came forward to greet him with an
embrace. "We were so worried about you!" He returned the hug
cautiously, obviously unsure of the new terms of his relationship
with this woman despite her show of emotion. She took a step back
to give him the once over. "What happened to you? I expected that
the police or the hospital would call, not you from a payphone."
She smiled. "It's a miracle."

The corners of his mouth turned upward self-consciously.  "Yeah, I
guess I'd better give the bureau a call, huh? Call off the
intensive manhunt." He gave the small flash of a real smile back
at Scully and she returned it.

"Nothing less for the FBI's most unwanted," she assured him.

Margaret looked over him again with the concerned eye of a mother.
"We'll need to get you a change of clothes."

For the first time since she had spotted him sitting in the phone
booth, Scully noticed his tattered and torn clothes. Strangely,
she realized, he wasn't all that dirty or injured himself. In
fact, he looked as if he'd just had a shower. The clothes were the
only worn things about him. On the outside, at least.

"Actually," Scully said, still standing behind Mulder by the door,
"I've got some in the trunk of my car." Now her smile was
diffident. "I, uh... I couldn't bring myself to take out your
overnight bag."

His eyes registered understanding and she was grateful for it.

Maggie looked to her daughter cautiously and then back to Mulder.
"Maybe you'd like to meet Nathan first?" It wasn't exactly a
question, but not an order either. Scully was thankful for her
mother's uncharacteristic hesitancy.

Scully watched a look of slight confusion cross her partner's
face, soon followed by anguish and indecision. She felt a small
pang of guilt in her chest.

*I forgot to tell him his son's first name.*

His lips again curved upward in a not-quite smile. "Eh, might as
well change first. I wouldn't want his first impression of me to
be *too* frightening."

The women gave their own half-smiles of acknowledgement, both
realizing with sadness that to Mulder, his statement wasn't quite
a joke.


(4 and 5 of 6)
-----

-----
April, 2001
-----

A loud wailing woke Scully in the middle of the night - not an
unusual occurrence over the past month. For the last 8 weeks (when
she hadn't been at the hospital) she had been staying with her
mother. Margaret had helped with Nathan far beyond what Scully
would have asked of her, but the younger woman insisted on being
the only one to tend to these late night calls for attention. She
wanted her child to have a mother, not a grandmother who filled
two roles.

Besides, she didn't exactly mind the disruption to her sleeping
pattern. She was almost grateful for the distraction from her
nightmares. Taking care of her son was by no means easy, but in
worrying over his needs, she found she could put aside her own
problems, the depression that had been plaguing her. Most of the
time.

Then there were the nights when she found herself lost in his
inquisitive young eyes and unable to separate the curiosity of
looking the world over for the first time from the excitement of
discovery she had often witnessed in the eyes of his father. Brown
and green were already beginning to pool into a fathomless hazel
that she had missed for so long.

The baby actually exhibited an odd, almost exotic mixture of his
parents' physical traits. His skin had a healthy natural tan and
his eyes were obviously his father's, but the little tufts of
curly hair on his head were soon becoming a deep red. And although
it was too early to tell if the baby fat would wear off on its
own, he appeared to have what Margaret referred to as the
trademark "Scully chub": a genetic curse that Dana had spent much
of her high school years attempting to work off.

As Scully made her sleep-addled way to Nathan's crib, nearly
tripping over her own feet in the three steps between her bed and
his, she let her mind freely drift to thoughts of Mulder for the
first time in ages. She lifted the screaming infant carefully and
allowed herself to fantasize about her partner performing the same
task. Mulder would be a wonderful father. He would devote to his
child the same dedication that he had always put into anything he
cared deeply about. As she hugged her son close to her, his crying
receded, seemingly having been spurred only by loneliness. She
smiled wistfully. For the first time that she could remember since
he had disappeared, she had hope. She didn't know where it came
from, but it was there, and at least for now, what might have been
was beginning to seem more and more like what still could be.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

-----
May, 2001
-----

Scully sat patiently on the couch, holding her son close enough
that he could hear the rapid beating of her heart. Margaret had
busied herself making coffee, though Scully was sure it had never
taken her mother over five minutes to perform the task before.
Mulder was in the upstairs bathroom changing. She hadn't known him
to be a slow dresser in the past either, but she understood his
reasons for taking his time.

She understood, but it still frustrated her. As long as she could
remember, she had hated suspense. Movies that dragged on and on,
pulling out the tension far longer than the final release of it
called for had always annoyed the hell out of her. Now she felt as
if her life was taking on the same tacky plot device. It would
have been simple for Maggie to be holding Nathan when she came out
to greet them in the first place, but no, the timing wasn't quite
right. So the writer dragged it on and on, killing the viewers
with unwanted tension while a hundred terribly mundane things took
place simply to lead them to the climax which would have been over
by now. Mulder had to change; Maggie had to make coffee. And where
did this leave Scully? Alone with her son and unable to decide
whether it was silly to tell Nathan what was going on when she
knew full well that his comprehension level wasn't developed
enough to understand her words beyond their tone.

"You're gonna meet your daddy." Scully never expected herself to
use baby voices, no matter how young the infant, but it had come
to her out of instinct. Her mother pointed out medical studies
that found using the high-pitched, annoyingly cute tones could
drastically improve the child's ability to pick up on speech
patterns, and she felt justified.

Somewhat justified, at least. At times, she still almost made
herself nauseous.

She placed one hand behind Nathan's back and the other at his neck
to support his head as she turned the baby to face her. The little
pools of hazel swirled and danced in his eyes with excitement and
trepidation as if he had understood her words.

*Daddy.*

Over the past months, Scully had begun to get used to the idea of
Mulder as a father. She had thought of how it would change his
relationship with her, of whether they could be good parents
together, but never had she figured Nathan into the equation as
the child she was beginning to know. She hadn't thought before of
Mulder as Nathan's daddy.

"Coffee's on its way." Scully nearly jumped as her mother came out
of the kitchen. Margaret looked extremely tense. Almost as nervous
as her daughter felt. "How's our little sailor?" she asked,
sitting down on the couch next to Dana.

Scully smiled softly.

Get a few Navy men in the family, everyone's got a nickname.

"Fine. Strangely calm."

Maggie smiled and ran a hand softly through the baby's quickly
thickening crimson hair. "He knows his daddy's here."

Scully watched her mother as she looked at her grandson. The
affection in her eyes was unmistakable. It filled her heart with
warmth and gave her hope for how Mulder might fit into this new
makeshift family. Strangely, Scully didn't sense any hostility
between her mother and her.... partner. She knew that Margaret had
always liked Mulder, but liking someone and being happy that
they've just had a child with your daughter outside of marriage
were two different things. Her mother was a forgiving soul in most
respects, but Scully had still expected her to have some - more
than some - reservations about the situation. If she did, the
subject hadn't come up.

"Is it safe to come down?" Scully turned her head to see Mulder
hesitantly standing at the top of the stairway, smiling self-
consciously. If she thought he looked good earlier, now he was
simply.... Beyond words. His appearance hadn't actually changed
much, just new clothes; her eyes had simply been starving for the
past twenty minutes and here was the buffet, back and re-set. And
it didn't help any that she was holding *their* child in her arms.

Receiving the acknowledgement of the women's soft smiles, Mulder
continued hesitantly down the staircase. Fear gripped his gut and
excitement pumped through his chest. As he reached the bottom step
and finally the white-carpeted floor, he saw for the first time
his son's inquisitive young face, lightly tanned and chubby, the
dark flames on his head blending smoothly into the dark curiosity
of his eyes. He was beautiful.

*My son.*

His feet carried him to the couch swiftly without conscious
thought. Before he knew it, he was standing above his... his
Scully, their child in her arms. He looked nervously to Margaret
Scully, expecting to see the admonishing stare he thought he
somehow deserved, but finding only kindness and encouragement. He
kneeled down slowly beside the two younger Scully's and ran a hand
lightly over his child's impossibly soft baby hair. Despite the
small audience that Margaret provided, Mulder felt his eyes begin
to water. He needed to hold his son.

Sensing his need, Scully shifted the child from her arms and into
his as he sat back on the carpet and began to let gentle tears
stream down his face.

"He's so... *incredible*. I..." He looked from Nathan to Scully
and stared into her eyes, finding there the same amazement and awe
that he felt surging through him. "He's *ours*." His lips curved
into a huge smile as the thought really sunk in. Scully's eyes,
already watering, now seemed to electrify with an entire new surge
of emotion as she slid down off the couch to join the father and
son. She wrapped an arm tightly around Mulder's waist and let the
other hand drift up to her baby's hair. She wanted to scream for
all the joy she felt at that moment, but resigned herself to
simply returning her partner's huge grin and pressing her forehead
against his shoulder.

"I'll leave the three of you alone." For the first time Scully did
not detect any hint of self-sacrifice in her mother's tone when
she spoke those words. Margaret was usually queen of the guilt
trips - whether intentional or not. But now she seemed content.
Scully felt a sense of relief. Finally, she didn't feel the need
to analyze her mother's words or find some problem she had to
solve. She was happy just sitting beside two of the people she
loved most in the world.

As if on cue to her thoughts, Mulder let his head lean against the
top of hers which still rested on his shoulder, and out of
Nathan's mouth came one of those cute little baby noises you
always think only exist in movies until you're actually around an
infant long enough to hear them.

"I love you." The whisper was soft in her ear, raspy and low and
warm, and it sent a shiver through her body that was the physical
incarnation of a combination of old feelings and new, indefinable
ones.

She turned her head slowly towards the man beside her, her mouth
so close to his that she could feel the warmth of his lips on her
own. "You talkin' to me or the kid?" she asked softly, smiling
warmly.

"Both." His lips met hers gently and briefly, the whisper of his
tongue only barely touching her mouth. He looked back to the
infant in his arms. "You think it'd be wrong of me to ask your
mother to look after him after so little introduction time?"

She smiled with humor. "Don't worry, you've seen enough. That's
all he does is sit there and make cute little noises. And cry. But
that can wait until you're a little more comfortable with this
whole parenting idea."

Just then, the baby let out small shudder and crinkled his face
uncomfortably.

"You smell something?" Mulder asked.

And the first loud scream began. Scully let out a chuckle and let
her head fall back against Mulder's arm. "And so the real joy of
parenthood begins." She climbed up to a standing position and
offered Mulder and the baby her hand. "Diapers are up in my room."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Scully let Mulder change Nathan's diaper. Good fatherhood
experience, she called it.

More like a chance for her to watch him make a fool out of himself
as he tried to operate the strange sticky plastic contraption. But
he didn't mind. She could laugh all she wanted. He was content to
have Nathan watch him with those big speculative eyes, apparently
confused as to why this giant clumsy thing couldn't perform the
simple task of strapping a disposable sack onto his midsection.
And he had missed Scully's laughter so much. His memories of the
past 9 months may have been gone, but he could sense the time that
had passed and longed to experience as much of her as he could to
make up for the absence.

When, by the 3rd diaper, he finally got Nathan changed into
something that would at least serve its purpose (despite some
aesthetic failings), the infant was passed off to his grandmother
who promised that she didn't mind putting him to sleep in the
small play pen she kept in the living room.

And so Mulder and Scully were alone in her room. At first, neither
one of them knew what to do. There was so much to say, so much to
do, so much skin on each of their bodies that craved the other's
touch. Taking a step towards his partner, Mulder raised his hand
to her hair and ran it down the side of her face softly.

"He's so beautiful." He looked over her face, his expression, a
strange combination of lust and awe. "You're so beautiful."

Her breathing was quickly becoming more rapid. It had been so long
since she had been able to feel him that even the slightest touch
sent electricity searing through her body. The side of her face
where his hand still rested was on fire. She leaned into his palm,
wanting more of him in any way she could get it.

"We need to talk." His words were unconvincing. His other hand
began to rub slowly up and down her arm.

"We will." Her voice was breathy, her words almost a warning.
"Soon. Not now."

An eternity passed while he registered her words as the permission
he sought and slowly moved his body closer and closer to hers,
finally coming into contact ever-so-slightly as his t-shirt
brushed against the front of her sweater and his lips brushed,
feather-light, against her cheek right at the corner of her mouth.

Her hungry lips could not tolerate his leisure. She sought his
mouth with a ferocity she had never before felt. Her legs melted
beneath her and she was forced to sit down on the bed beside them.
He followed her, her mouth attacking his, sucking his lower lip
against her tongue and letting her teeth graze his just enough to
excite. He climbed onto the bed with her, straddling her and
forcing her body to lay back against the soft mattress.

Before she knew what was happening, he had taken control, letting
go of his original passivity to plunge his tongue against the roof
of her mouth. His lower body mimicked the motions with a pelvic
thrust that jolted her senses to the point that it was hard to
believe they were both still fully clothed.

"I could kiss you for hours," he whispered urgently against her
lips as he came up for air for what seemed like the first time.

She chuckled against his mouth. "I hope that's not all you plan on
doing."

He smiled and began clumsily unbuttoning her sweater with one hand
as the other helped keep him in position. The task seemed to be
taking him longer than she thought possible. Her lungs were
working overtime just in anticipation of his touch.

And then rough fingers were pressed against her with no barriers.
She wasn't quite sure what happened to the bra she'd been wearing,
but it wasn't on her now and that was all that mattered. She felt
a string being pulled tightly inside her that seem connected to
her entire body.

His lips left hers and she almost protested before she realized
where they were going. Stalled momentarily at the side of her
neck, his mouth sent tiny tingles every which way. But when he let
those gorgeous lips travel even farther down, to her chest, she
nearly screamed.

The only thought that prevented that scream was her realization
that this was her mother's house.

"Mom.... Downstairs..... baby..." she attempted to warn Mulder.

His ministrations stopped momentarily as he looked up at her face
with a sly grin. "Shhh. I can be quiet if you can," he whispered.

"Oh God..." She let her head fall back against the pillow as he
stopped the gentle lapping he'd been busy with and closed his
mouth over her nipple, sucking softly while his tongue swirled
over the tip. "You're not helping any," she sighed.

"C'mon Scully. Think of it as an argument. I don't think you can
take everything I've got to give you without screaming your lungs
out."

Oh, he'd done it now. "Keep it coming." He grinned and lowered his
mouth to her belly.

She'd never thought that thing about undoing a person's fly with
your teeth was very plausible. But then, Mulder *did* have an
extremely talented mouth.

As he slid her pants slowly down her legs, he allowed his fingers
to brush against the skin as he uncovered it. When all the clothes
were off of her except her underwear, he placed a soft kiss on the
inside of her right knee, then slowly worked himself upwards,
alternating between legs each time he got closer to his ultimate
destination. A small open-mouthed, lingering kiss on her left
inner-thigh caused her to bite the inside of her cheek hard as her
chest rose and fell heavily.

His fingers dragged the cotton down over her hips, down her legs,
past her feet. A lazy tongue ran over her clit as she felt one
finger, then another plunge inside her.

She tasted copper, but she didn't make a sound.

Her hips thrust forward involuntarily. His fingers inside of her
stopped thrusting and began to explore, massaging her walls in
rhythmic circles. The mouth that had lazily ran over her, now
surrounded her clit and sucked until it hurt. Another finger
plunged inside her and the circles stopped, replaced by deep
thrusts that made her squirm against him and almost bite entirely
through the skin of her cheek.

Finally, she felt the involuntary clenching of every one of her
muscles from the abdomen down. Not to mention her arms as she
gripped the comforter and her jaw as she finally was able to feel
the pain she had caused to the inside of her mouth.

At the foot of the bed, Mulder stood from his kneeling position
and grinned at her.

She sighed. God, how the hell was she still so turned on? And why
the hell was he still wearing all of his clothes?

Smiling weakly, she maneuvered her rubbery limbs carefully to
crawl towards him on the bed. Mulder smiled and watched her as she
stood up on her knees to kiss him, simultaneously working her
fingers around the button of his jeans.

A thought struck him suddenly through the clouded haze of his
mind.

"Condom."

Scully stopped kissing him abruptly and let her body fall back
into a sitting position on the bed. "Shit." She looked around the
room, frustrated. There had to be something in here they could
use. A zip lock bag?

She put her head in her hands. "Looks like one of us will have to
be making a trip to the store."

Mulder looked down at the uncomfortable bulge in his jeans. "Um...
yeah. Scully, I'm not exactly in any condition right now.
Especially if I happen to bump into your mother on the way out."

She looked up from her brief fit of pouting and laughed. "Fine.
I'll go. But you've got to promise me that *that* will still be
here when I get back."

He smiled. "With thoughts of you to keep me warm..."

She stood up and began pulling clothes on. "Yeah, that's what I
was afraid of."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Scully crept down the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake Nathan
in case her mother had actually gotten him to sleep. Heading for
the door, she noticed the kitchen light on. Her mom would worry if
she heard the car leave with no explanation.

"Mom?" Scully asked, peeking her head into the kitchen. Margaret
sat at a stool beside the tiled island in the middle of the room,
holding Nathan to her side as she flipped through an issue of Home
& Garden with her reading glasses on.

She looked startled to hear her daughter's voice. "What is it,
sweetie? I thought you and Fox would have a little more catching
up to do."

Scully had to consciously will herself not to blush - which
invariably made her blush more profusely. "Um, we do, actually. I
just need to run down to the store for a second. I'll be right
back."

"What for, Dana? I can do it." Margaret's eyes registered
willingness. Scully felt her cheeks redden even more.

"It's no bother, mom. Really. I just thought of something I wanted
to... show Mulder. How's Nate doing?"

The older woman smiled down at the baby resting against her hip.
"He's fine. Looks like he's actually getting sleepy. He wouldn't
stop crying when I tried to put him in the pen."

Scully smiled. "Okay, then. I'll be right back."

"Okay, sweetie. Be careful." She turned back to her magazine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


When Scully returned to the house, she headed straight upstairs to
her bedroom, plastic bag rustling at her side. But when she opened
the door, it was empty.

"Mulder?"

"In here." He emerged from the bathroom clad in only a pair of
boxers. She was slightly shocked. She didn't know what she'd been
expecting. She *had* just run to the store for a pack of condoms.
He *had* just spent a considerable amount of time with his head
between her legs before said run. But seeing him like this for the
first time in... an eternity, just sent a rush of hormones
shooting through her blood stream like she hadn't felt since high
school.

He strode up to her and slowly unbuttoned her sweater once more
and she dropped the bag she'd been carrying. He reached around her
torso with both arms to unhook her bra and slide it off her body,
leaning forward to kiss softly along her jaw line and down her
neck.

"I missed you," he whispered softly. The reverberation on the
sensitive skin of her throat made her shiver. Moving to kiss the
other side of her neck, his hands found their way down to the
button of her pants and worked the fly open quickly, giving a
gentle shove to get them over her hips, and letting gravity take
them the rest of the way. Scully had gained some weight during her
pregnancy. Her breasts were fuller with milk, and her stomach and
hips were more rounded, displaying more curves than she had shown
in a long time. Mulder relished the feel of her flesh in his
hands, healthier and more sensual than before.

She hadn't bothered to put on any underwear in her hurry to
redress, and she now stood naked before him, vulnerable and
trusting as his hands explored every expanse of her flesh yet
again.

"Mulder." Her voice was low and husky and commanding. He could
feel the fabric of his boxers become more restraining by the
second.

"Mmmm," he conceded, slowly bending over to grab the fallen bag of
prophylactics.

A slender hand stopped his arm. "No, let me." She bent down as he
stood up, and he felt the fabric tighten just a little more.
Especially when he realized she was getting in a kneeling position
before him, opening a package of Trojans.

"Be quiet, now." Her grin was pure evil as she finally got one out
of it's wrapping and decided to cover him with something
altogether different. Keeping the condom between two of her
fingers, she reached up and pulled the shorts carefully off of
him, leaving him completely exposed... right in front of her face.
Sure. Quiet. That would be *real* easy.

Slowly, she let her tongue fall from her mouth and reached it
upward in one long stroke down his length. Mulder took a deep
breath and struggled to remain standing. She took his tip into her
mouth between those two perfect red lips and he looked down at her
and almost fainted. Slowly, she let her head slide forward, taking
him in more and more, until... When he was almost fully engorged,
she quickly slid back away and slipped the little piece of latex
over him, standing and smiling smugly before walking calmly to the
bed and climbing onto it.

"Coming, Mulder?"

Still shell-shocked from having her mouth on him for such a brief
time, Mulder simply stood, speechless, for a moment before
regaining consciousness. "Um... yeah." Scully smiled even wider as
he stared at her and blinked repeatedly as though trying to piece
together how she was suddenly no longer on the floor in front of
him. He stepped closer to the bed and climbed onto it, covering
her with his body and kissing her languidly on the lips for
several seconds - something he was sure he could never tire of.

"Mulder." Her tone implied warning and he wasn't about to upset
her. Reaching one hand down to her opening, he slowly let himself
slide into her. When he was buried within her as far as he could
go, he simply lay there for a moment, reveling in the soft feeling
of completeness.

Then Scully began to squirm. The mere sight of her body wriggling
underneath him (not to mention the feeling) just about caused him
to start bucking wildly into her, but he controlled himself.
Slowly, he began to move within her, pulling out a little, then
pushing back in faster. With each thrust he withdrew more and
slammed further into her flesh. They both wanted to scream, but
instead, Scully bit at her uninjured cheek and dug her nails into
the skin of his back. Mulder bit down on his lower lip fiercely.
He was afraid to kiss her in case he had to contain the urge to
moan again. After several minutes, he felt her muscles clench up
around him, triggering his own release in a final series of rapid,
graceless thrusts.

"Mulder?" Scully asked as he lazily pulled out and rolled off of
her. "Did I scream?"

He had to think very hard. "I... I'm not sure."

"My throat is hoarse."

He smiled and rolled onto his side to face her and drape a limp
arm across her abdomen. "I didn't hear it. I won't hold you to
it."

She smiled softly and closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion overtake
her body. She felt Mulder leave her side and shortly thereafter a
soft blanket was draped over her. When he finally did lay back
down behind her, she let her back fall against his chest
comfortably.

*Spooned up like little baby cats.*

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Scully awoke the next morning to a familiar loud shrieking and the
smell of eggs and bacon wafting through her open bedroom door. She
rolled onto her back lazily and almost got up to go bribe the
child into silence when she realized she wasn't wearing any
clothes. Feeling awkwardly confused for a moment, she had a sudden
flash of the night before. She could feel the color rushing to her
cheeks. Where was Mulder, anyway?

Slipping on the pajamas she *would* have worn to bed, Scully
wandered down the stairs, entering the family room which the
crying had originally emanated from just in time for it to die
away. Instead of an unhappy infant, alone in his playpen, she
found a 39-year-old infant bouncing his new friend on a knee and
making faces she would have thought beyond even Mulder's sense of
dignity.

"How are my boys this morning?" she asked, running a hand through
Mulder's damp fresh-from-the-shower hair. He looked up at her, his
mouth still halfway open from the smile he'd been giving Nathan, a
light in his eyes that nearly made her heart explode, unable to
contain it's joy.

"Great." He allowed his lips to curve into a defined smile and his
eyes took on a feral glint for a brief moment as he soaked in the
full sight of her. "Grandma's making breakfast." The glint in his
eye was replaced by humor at his use of words. God, these new
titles felt strange on the tongue.

But somehow right.

"Breakfast is ready!" an almost too cheery voice called from the
kitchen. Mulder handed the baby off to Scully in an unspoken
agreement. He knew almost instinctually that she'd need to hold
the child before she could do much else this morning. Make sure
her little miracle was still tangible.

*Miracle.*

Scully reached one hand slowly behind her neck and felt the small,
almost imperceptible scar where her cure rested. An alien object
that she owed her life too. Her son's life. She shivered
involuntarily.

It was far too easy to slip into the illusion of domestic bliss.
Scully was finding it almost impossible not to, in fact. Mulder
was back, their baby was healthy, her mother was in the kitchen
making breakfast just like she had every morning when Dana and her
siblings were children. It was like a fantasy. But it wasn't a
fantasy. This package came chalk full of every dark underbelly
imaginable. Government conspiracies up the wazoo, alien
abductions, deals with heinous forces...

*Deals.*

Scully shook her head, hoping the motion alone could silence her
thoughts. She did not want to uncover the answers to any of her
questions. She was tired of asking them. She was tired of worrying
herself to sleep every night wondering about the fate of her
child, the fate of his father. Mulder was back now. He hadn't even
been there 24 hours. Why couldn't they just pretend nothing had
happened? Maybe if they started over right now it would all be
alright. They could quit the X-files, she could go into private
practice and he could be a... professor, or a writer or something.
And all the MIB's and informants could go fuck themselves with
some other lost souls who felt like saving the world. And maybe,
just maybe, she could forget all her burning questions and just
pretend she'd never been infertile in the first place. She and
Mulder had made a baby the old fashioned way, and he'd been there
for the pregnancy, the birth, everything. Nathan wouldn't
remember. They could play normal for the next 40 years or so. Get
married, buy a house in the suburbs, have another kid and a dog.
Fulfill all the dreams of her 10-year-old self.

Maybe in another life. In this one, normal just couldn't apply.
And she'd never been a very good liar.

"Mulder?" Her voice stopped him just before he passed through the
swinging doors to the kitchen. "I need to talk to you after you
eat."

He nodded. "Aren't you gonna..." He motioned with his thumb toward
the kitchen and furrowed his brow in concern.

She shook her head and offered a small smile. "I'm not hungry. I'm
going to nurse Nathan."

He took a few steps toward her. "You really should eat something,
Scully." He smiled. "Especially after that workout last night."

Her smile became genuine. "And what workout was that, Agent
Mulder?"

He put a hand to his chest as if wounded. "Ah, Scully, that
hurts."

She chuckled and went to sit at the couch. "Besides," she said,
becoming serious once more, "I need a little time to myself to
think."

He stared at her for a few more moments, deciding his next course
of action, and finally nodded, then turned around and headed back
for the kitchen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mulder sat somewhat uncomfortably at the kitchen table with
Margaret, eating the best eggs he'd ever tasted. Perhaps he'd just
gone a long time without them, but they were still damn good.
Strangely, he hadn't been hungry last night when he... arrived.
Much the same way that he had been completely clean. It didn't
seem like the usual MO of government conspirators or little gray
men to keep the abductee bathed and well fed for the duration of
their stay. But for some reason, Mulder had the distinct
impression that neither of those groups were involved this time.
That what he had come into contact with was something altogether
different from anything he or Scully had ever encountered.

"Where did you sleep last night, Fox?" The question was innocent
enough. Spoken casually and seemingly out of concern for the
comfort of her guest. The answer was not quite so simple. What
would Scully want him to say? He knew she was close to her mother,
but he also knew that if Nathan hadn't come along, Margaret would
*not* have known they'd ever slept together.

"Umm..." He chewed a mouth-full of scrambled egg slowly to stall
for time. It was only polite not to talk with food in your mouth,
right? Finally he decided it was best to just be truthful. As in
the "that depends on what the definition of 'is' is" version of
truthful. "In Scu- In Dana's room."

Margaret nodded. For a brief moment he half-expected her to drill
him further, but then she smiled slowly as if she'd just thought
of something incredibly funny that only she got. "You don't need
to be embarrassed, Fox."

He stared at her for a moment, attempting to read her, but not
knowing her quite well enough to understand her mood.
"Embarrassed?"

She smiled again and placed her hand lightly over his. "I know how
it is. When Bill was in the service, every time he'd get back from
a long trip... Well, I remember that feeling."

Mulder smiled awkwardly, not quite sure of exactly what Margaret
was telling him. "But..."

She took her hand back and looked at it briefly, her expression
becoming more serious but still friendly. "Yes, we were married.
And I'd rather it be that way for Dana. But I've learned some
things with age." She sat back in her chair, throwing the napkin
from her lap onto her empty plate. "There was a time I felt uneasy
about my children even becoming involved with someone who wasn't
Catholic." She smiled fondly. "Missy destroyed that one." For a
moment Mrs. Scully seemed lost in her memories. Mulder wanted to
ask what had happened with Melissa, but was still out of his
element a little too much to go prying into things she might not
want to share.

Finally, Maggie turned her attention back to the man sitting at
her table. "Don't misunderstand me. The decisions I've made have
been right for me, and as much as I'd like to accept my children
exactly as they are, I worry about them. For religious reasons,
because I don't want them to get hurt... But each of them have
taught me that everyone needs to live their own life." She inhaled
deeply and closed her eyes before looking him in the face.
"Melissa was the hardest because she was the only one who didn't
care what the family thought about how she lived her life. She'd
disappear for months at a time and we wouldn't know where she was.
But after each little trip, she would call me and we'd have a long
discussion about where she'd been, what she'd seen. She wasn't
looking for my acceptance. She just wanted me to know what a great
time she was having. Even when bad things happened. She was
grateful just to experience everything she could." Margaret smiled
and let out a small sigh that could have been interpreted as a
wistful laugh. "You'd think Dana joining the FBI wouldn't have
been that big a deal. But she'd always been Bill's little
Starbuck. She'd always done everything to please her father. It
was kind of a shock when she finally found her rebellious streak -
however mute it was in comparison."

Mrs. Scully paused for a moment, reaching for her cup of coffee
and sipping at it slowly. Then she turned her attention to Mulder.
"What I'm trying to say, Fox, is that I understand that Dana needs
to choose her own path. And I'm grateful that that path includes
someone who obviously cares deeply about her. I don't think Dana
always realizes that she can confide in me. She remembers the
morals and values her father and I tried to instill in all our
children, and doesn't understand that I won't be disappointed in
her if she doesn't follow them perfectly."

Mulder nodded slightly in understanding. He didn't know quite what
to say. He felt as if the woman had just taken great pains in
opening up to him just to make him feel more comfortable, and he
had nothing to offer in return. She was looking down at her cup of
coffee, appearing almost distressed.

"Mrs. Scully..."

She smiled wearily. "Please. Margaret."

"Margaret..." The name felt awkward to his mouth. "I think she
does confide in you. More than just about anyone. She's just a
very... private person." In reality, he knew that Margaret was
correct in many respects - that Scully was always looking for the
approval of her family, as much as she told herself she didn't
care. But what he had said was true as well and he felt the woman
needed to hear it.

Mrs. Scully smiled softly and closed her eyes. "Maybe you're
right." With that, the conversation was apparently over. Margaret
stood and began to clear the empty dishes off of the table.
Despite the new understanding that Mulder appreciated, he couldn't
help but be grateful for the conversation's end. He helped Mrs.
Scully with the dishes in silence, then went to find Scully.

She was sitting on the couch in the living room, patting Nathan's
back gently as she held him partially over her shoulder. The baby
gave a little hiccup and a creamy substance dribbled down his
chin. Scully readjusted him so that she could see his face and
quickly wiped away the liquid with a cloth.

*God, I really am a parent,* Mulder thought. *Even his spit is
cute.*

"You wanted to talk?" Mulder asked.

Scully looked up at the sound of his voice. She took a deep
breath, her face full of trepidation. Mulder was confused.

"Yes." She looked down at the infant in her arms and closed her
eyes momentarily. "Sit down." He complied as she scooted over even
though there was plenty of room on the couch without the
adjustment. Mulder stared at her in concern as he felt his heart
begin to race with mild fear at what she was going to say.

"Mulder," she began, "a lot happened while you were gone." She
looked down at Nathan. "A lot."

"You said as much last night."

She wetted her lips with her tongue and nodded. "I told you that
Marita Covarrubias was killed. I didn't tell you that I was the
one to discover the body." She paused. "Lying in my bed."

Mulder was silent for a moment, processing the information. "Do
you have any idea why?"

"I had been in contact with her since your disappearance. She told
me things. Perhaps things I wasn't supposed to know."

He squinted his eyes at her slightly. "What sorts of things?"

Scully took a slow breath and let her hand play thoughtlessly with
Nathan's hair. "You didn't question my ability to conceive when I
told you about my pregnancy. Why was that, Mulder?"

His brow furrowed in confusion, as if he had just now realized
that she was supposed to be infertile. "I..." He took a deep
breath and thought for a moment. "It never occurred to me. I...
I'm not sure." He looked to be deeply disturbed by this fact.
Scully stared at him, trying to detect any hint of deception. All
she saw was bewilderment.

She decided to take a different approach. "Mulder, when we first
slept together, why did you want to use a condom?"

He stared at her quizzically, as if he were trying to decipher a
language he hadn't studied since high school. "I don't remember. I
don't know what you're talking about."

She took a deep breath. "Just before..." She motioned with one
hand, trying to get her point across without saying the actual
words. "Just before we... you know, you seemed worried that you
didn't have a condom."

"I'm sorry, Scully, I don't remember. Maybe it's all those safe-
sex public service announcements. Maybe they really do work." He
was starting to get defensive. "Just what exactly are you saying
here, anyway? That I knew you could conceive? What did Marita tell
you?"

Scully took a deep breath and stood, taking the infant who had
fallen asleep in her arms with her. "She told me about a deal."
She wouldn't face him. She couldn't look at him if he was going to
lie to her.

"What *deal*?" He stared at her back in a mixture of confusion and
the beginnings of anger. "Scully, look at me. What kind of deal?"

She laid the infant down in his pen gently, so as not to disturb
his slumber. "She said that you made a deal with *him*. With CGB
Spender, the smoking man, whatever the hell his name is. She said
the terms were that I would be able to have children and you would
be called away. That Oregon was that calling."

Mulder stood. He could feel the adrenaline of the anger starting
to pump through his veins. "That's bullshit." He said in a harsh
whisper, not wanting to wake the baby. Not wanting one of the
child's first memories to be of his parents fighting.

Scully turned to him, her demeanor weak. For the first time he
noticed a real change in her from the woman he had known before
his abduction. She looked somehow defeated. Like a wife who was
tired of the lies and thoughtlessness of her husband and yet
unable to leave. It almost brought tears to his eyes but at the
same time made him angry. Angry at the world that had done this to
her while he was away. Angry at her for letting it.

"Are you sure it's bullshit, Mulder?" Her voice was quiet, but not
out of concern for her son's sleeping habits. She was obviously
angry, but it wasn't the heated Scully anger he was used to. It
was a mellow anger. An accepting anger that assumed she would lose
the argument even though she felt she was right.

"Scully?" It was a plea more than anything, an appeal to her
former self to come out and yell at him a little. "Scully, what's
wrong here? Why won't you believe me?"

She put her hands on her hips and looked down at the ground,
setting her jaw in pain that wasn't at all physical. "Mulder...
Why? Why would she lie to me about that? She told me that CGB
Spender wanted me to get pregnant. What purpose would it serve to
tell me both things if one was a lie?"

Mulder shook his head incredulously. "I don't know. Maybe to plant
mistrust." He looked her over angrily. "Apparently it did the
job."

She continued to stare at the carpet. "There's something else." He
waited in silence while she thought over her next words. "I know
it's going to sound silly or... or I don't know what, but along
with her body, there was a note..."

There was a sudden flash in Mulder's mind. A white piece of paper
from a dream or a memory, he wasn't sure. "You're next."

Scully's head snapped up and she looked at him in shock or horror
or some mixture of the two. "How... How did you know?"

Mulder blinked in confusion. He wasn't sure what was going on.
Flashes of unconnected images were streaming through his mind.
What looked like his hand using simple pen strokes on a small
white paper. Scully crying in a motel room by herself. Nathan's
birth. His mind couldn't keep up.

Scully stood stone stiff across the room from him. "How did you
know?" She asked in an accusing voice. Tears of fear were
beginning to spring to her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, but she
was only a backdrop to the other images. Images that he couldn't
stop. He felt like his brain was going into overload.

And then everything was black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mulder awoke in a hospital bed. His head hurt. As his vision
cleared, he noticed a man with jet black hair sitting in a chair
in the corner of the room.

"Where am I?" Mulder asked groggily as he tried to sit up.

The man looked suddenly worried and rushed to his side. "Don't sit
up!" Mulder was quickly restrained by the man as he gripped his
biceps and pushed him back down on the bed. "I, uh... You're at a
hospital." The dark-haired man let go and stood awkwardly.

Mulder put a hand to his head to try and make the dull ache stop
by the power of touch alone. "No shit, Sherlock. What hospital?"

The young man (late 20's, early 30's) looked embarrassed. "Um,
Fairfax Mercy, Agent Mulder. You were brought in by one..." He
flipped back a few pages on the notepad he'd obviously been
doodling on. "... Margaret Scully."

"Uh-huh. And who are you?" Mulder could have sworn the kid
blushed.

"Agent Fielding. Craig Fielding. I, um, I was the agent assigned
to your case. Your disappearance." When Mulder didn't respond,
Craig apparently decided that was an invitation to ramble on a
little more. "I mean, of course, there were more agents assigned,
but after a while, you know, the bureau decided that resources
needed to be spent elsewhere, and well, you know, I just happened
to be the only one left on the case. Me and my partner that is..."

"Fielding, you said your name was?"

He nodded enthusiastically, obviously happy that someone had
actually remembered his name for three seconds.

"Well, Agent Fielding, would you mind doing me a favor and letting
me borrow your phone?"

The young man swallowed, attempting to look professional. "Of
course." He removed the small black cell from his coat pocket and
handed it to Mulder.

"Mind giving me a little privacy?" Mulder asked. The younger agent
again blushed slightly and headed back to his corner. "A little
more privacy?" Mulder motioned toward the door with his head.
Fielding thought for a moment and finally left the room. Mulder
quickly dialed Scully's cell phone.

It rang three times.

"Scully."

"Scully, where are you?"

She was silent. He thought she had hung up for a moment, but her
breathing was just barely audible.

"Mulder, are you alright?"

"What do you think?" he asked. "I'm a little disoriented. One
minute we're having a discussion, the next I'm in some hospital
room being waited on by Agent Dumbfuck."

"Agent Fielding's a nice guy. He's the only one who's kept looking
for you this whole time."

"Must be why I was found so soon."

There was another awkward silence. "Scully, are you afraid of me?"
It had been his first thought when he awoke. The image of her
going into hysterics as she stared at him in horror.

It took her several seconds to answer. "No." Her tone spoke
otherwise. But he sensed something other than his fit of psychic
ability was bothering her.

"Scully, what is it?"

He heard a weak sigh on the other end and realized she had begun
to cry. "Mulder... Nathan's missing."

He felt an icy hand grip at his heart fiercely. "What?" His voice
wavered on the single syllable.

"Mom and I woke up this morning and he was gone. No sign of a
break-in, no note, nothing." Try as she might to hide them, he
could hear the tears choking her as she spoke.

"Have you called the police?"

"Yes. They said to look around the house some more."

"What did you tell them?"

There was a brief moment of silence. "I told them that I was a
fucking FBI agent, not some hysterical mother who forgot which
room she left her child in. Then I hung up."

Despite the horror of the situation, Mulder couldn't help but
smile at that. "We'll find him, Scully. I swear to you."

"That's what I said to Skinner when you first went missing."

"And look how that turned out."

Scully was silent.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Mulder was able to get Agent Fielding to do his questioning in the
car on the way to Mrs. Scully's house. It wasn't difficult to fit
the entire meeting into the car ride because there wasn't really
much for the young agent to discover. Mulder didn't remember
anything. Or at least anything he was willing to share just yet.

Once Fielding had dropped him off at the house, Mulder rushed up
to the doorway and rang the bell. When the entryway opened, he
nearly reached for his weapon before realizing he no longer had
it.

Standing inside the doorway, welcoming him in, was Alex Krycek.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"In the brain of every religious person there is a god shaped
vacuum."
-Jeremy Konopka


Krycek had shown up at the Scully residence only a few minutes
before Mulder had arrived - just the amount of time it had taken
him to convince Scully she should listen to him. Mulder's first
instinct upon seeing the rat, especially with his son gone
missing, was to lunge at him in an attempt to wrap his already
clenching fists around the man's neck. This instinct had been
squandered when Scully appeared behind Krycek and told Mulder to
come in, sit down, and listen to what Alex had to say. His first
instinct after that had been to lunge at both of them, but he kept
this urge at bay all by himself.

Now Mulder and Scully sat on the living room couch, just about as
separated as they could be while still sitting on the same piece
of furniture. Krycek stood by the empty playpen like a general
waiting to give orders to his troops. Margaret was apparently
'out,' although no one had cared enough to tell Mulder where
exactly that was.

"What's going on here?" Mulder asked. He looked at Scully. She was
silent. "So what, Scully, I'm gone for a while and suddenly you
trust this scum bag? More than me?"

She had the decency to look somewhat wounded by the remark.

"Save your domestic squabble for your own time," Krycek
interrupted.

Mulder glared at him, but said nothing.

"Agent Scully understands that I have information for the two of
you which could, at the very least, help to put your minds at
rest. I think you'd be quite interested in this information,
Mulder, if you'd just put aside your petty vendettas long enough
to listen to it."

Mulder took a deep breath and looked to Scully. She simply sat
motionless. Dead. The anger fumed within him, but he felt
strangely thrown off guard with Scully just sitting there, waiting
for the bomb to drop. "I'm listening."

Krycek seemed to accept the statement and began pacing back and
forth in front of Mulder and Scully, the continuous movement
apparently helping him think.

"I've spent the last few months gleaning information. For myself
and for the two of you. I'm sure that you, Mulder, are too blinded
by old grudges to see it, but I *am* on your side. There are some
who feel that the two of you should be kept completely in the
dark, but I realize that this would simply increase your
determination and quite possibly interfere with things that should
not be interfered with. By telling you what I can now, I hope to
make you understand that what is happening is for the good of
humanity."

It was a rehearsed speech, the kind a politician gives when
they're announcing bad news- carefully worded and precise to give
it just the right spin.

"Get to the point, Krycek." The lengthy rhetoric was not helping
Mulder to control his temper.

Krycek stopped pacing and faced Mulder. "The point, Mulder, is
that your son is going to be the savior of humanity." He paused
for a moment, letting it sink in even though he knew that the
agent would not accept the statement at face value. "I already
told Agent Scully that your son is one of the few successful
alien-human hybrids, as are you..." He smirked as confusion
registered on Mulder's face. "...but as I told Scully, Nathan is a
much more advanced specimen. Many in power believe that he is the
one who will save us from invasion. This belief is held so
strongly by so many, that Agent Scully was actually given special
treatment by the bureau to ensure that her pregnancy went
smoothly." He looked to Scully, who appeared surprised at first,
and then seemed to register understanding, as if a puzzle piece
had finally clicked into place. "It's gotten almost to the point
of a religious following that your son is the center of." He
looked at Scully sharply. "You've felt it." It wasn't a question.
She blinked and looked to Mulder. He stared back at her with
curiosity and just a little too much emotional detachment. She
felt cold all over. But when she looked to Krycek and saw the
knowing light in his eyes, she felt almost safe.

"Yes."

She felt Mulder's accusing eyes rake over her face and found
herself unable to return his stare. She didn't understand what was
going on, but she had the sense of something much larger than
herself or Mulder. Whatever her partner seemed to think, she
didn't completely trust Krycek. But something told her to believe
him.

"Where is Nathan now?" Scully asked.

"They've taken him. The higher-ups. They need to perform some
tests to make sure the chip worked as they'd hoped."

Mulder's anger was multiplying by the second. "What kinds of
*tests*." He spat out the last word with disgust.

Krycek nearly smiled. Lucky for him, he was able to hold it back
just before Mulder decided to break his neck. "Calm down, Mulder.
Do you honestly think they'd hurt the 'Messiah'?" He spoke the
last two words almost mockingly, yet seemed to believe their
meaning even if the term was a little over the top. "Just simple
blood tests, some observation. He'll be returned home as soon as
they're done."

"And when will that be?" Mulder asked, his words razor-sharp.

"Not long. A day. Perhaps two. The important thing to realize is
that it's no use looking for him. By the time your investigation
begins, the child will have already been returned to you."

Scully furrowed her brow. "Why? Why would they return him?
Wouldn't it be easier to just keep him with them at all times? Why
would they entrust us with a child they believed to be their
savior?"

Krycek looked down at the carpet and bit his lower lip
thoughtfully. After a moment of silence as he contemplated his
answer, he turned his attention back to the two people who sat on
the couch before him. "Perhaps I misled you when I said that it's
gotten *almost* to the point of a religious following. It's more
like a cult." He swallowed and looked around the room almost as if
he were embarrassed to be revealing the information. "Your son is
the savior. There's another who has been viewed as the prophet."
He looked first to Mulder, then Scully, his eyes so intense and
serious that Mulder found himself for the first time captured by
Krycek's words rather than infuriated. Once he was sure that both
agents were listening to him fully, he continued. "It's a woman.
She has premonitions. The dream I spoke of before..." He looked to
Scully to make sure she remembered. She nodded slightly. "...She's
had that dream too. As have many of the others. She says it's a
message. Your son will save the human race, but something will
happen to him in return." He was starting to get excited. Scully
could tell he truly believed in this. "He will be returned to you
because she says it should be so. And They don't even question her
anymore."

Scully shook her head. For the first time in months, she felt the
rush of adrenaline that came from solving puzzles. It made her
want to vomit out of self-loathing that her mind could turn her
son into a case to solve, but she found herself welcoming the
feeling despite herself. "I don't understand. The dream... You
said it made you think of Cain and Abel. Cain wasn't punished
without cause. He killed his brother out of jealousy."

Krycek shrugged. "It made me think of Cain and Abel. It wasn't
*about* that story. My mind just made a connection to something I
remembered from childhood."

Again Scully shook her head, this time closing her eyes to help
her thoughts clear. Something was right on the tip of her brain,
just beyond her comprehension. An image or a phrase. Something
that could make it all make sense. "No," she said, shaking her
head more fiercely and opening her eyes to look at Krycek. "No,
it's not a coincidence. Nathan's middle name is Cain."

Krycek squinted his eyes at her in confusion. "But that's the name
*you* gave him. Why did you name him that?"

Scully took a deep breath and looked at Mulder. He had been
strangely silent since Krycek began talking in terms of religion.
He looked at her now with both interest and concern. She felt
uncomfortably in the spotlight. "I didn't mean to." She looked
back and forth between the men, searching for understanding even
though neither of them could possibly understand yet. "His middle
name was supposed to be William, but when the nurse asked me...
It's just what came out."

Mulder stared at her and chewed on his bottom lip, working over it
as if it were the idea in his head. "Could it have been caused by
the suggestion of Krycek's dream?"

She took a deep breath. "No. It had been months since I'd spoken
to him, and besides..." She looked down at her hands. "Ever since
you left, I'd been having these... nightmares. Visions. The name
kept coming up in all of them."

They were silent for several moments. "It's no matter, anyway,"
Krycek finally said. "I'm not here to discuss the influences of
Christianity or Judaism on our present situation. I came to tell
you that the child is safe and now I'll be on my way."

Scully moved to stop him, but the look Mulder threw her way
silenced her protests immediately. It was a cold stare she almost
couldn't believe came from his eyes. It held more distrust and
anger than she had seen since roughly 5 years ago when she'd shot
him.

So that he wouldn't shoot Krycek.

The irony was fully coincidental - she hadn't trusted Krycek then,
she simply didn't want Mulder to end up in prison. She didn't
really trust Krycek now. She just wasn't willing to fully dismiss
him as Mulder seemed to be.

Mulder began to rise as soon as the other man closed the door
behind him. "I'm calling the Gunmen."

"Why?" Scully regretted the word as soon as she'd spoken it.

"Why?" Mulder asked incredulously. "Your *son* is missing, and you
have the audacity to wonder *why* I would actually choose to *do*
something about it?"

She couldn't look at him. The anger flowed off him in waves. It
made her sick just to be near him. "You think I don't care about
Nathan?"

Her question came out in the same low defeated tone Mulder had
heard the last time they fought. He almost wanted to hit her just
to see if he could get a stronger reaction. "God, Scully, what
happened to you to make you this... *weak*?"

There was the reaction he wanted. Turned out he didn't need
physical violence at all, just a well placed blow to the old ego.
Her eyes flared up with the first electricity he had seen in them
since the morning before, and she glared at him more fiercely than
he remembered. "You son of a bitch." She didn't stand, but he
could feel her rise to his level. "You don't have any idea what
I've been through in the last nine months." Finally, she rose from
her spot on the couch and took a small step toward him, nodding
towards the door. "Do you think I wanted to believe a single word
that came out of his slimy little mouth? Or Marita's for that
matter? You were *gone*, Mulder." Tears were beginning to form in
her eyes but they didn't make her seem any less threatening.
"*Gone*. Do you understand at all what that was like? I had no one
to trust. No one. What the fuck was I supposed to do?"

He set his jaw and looked away from her, willing himself not to
feel anything but the anger he was comfortable with. Willing
himself not to think of how *he* had coped when she had been
taken. How he'd reacted to finally finding someone he thought he
could trust. "Yes, I do know what that's like, Scully. I know a
little too well what that's like. And you know who's fault it is
that I understand *exactly* what you've been feeling? That man."
He pointed towards the door with emphasis and looked directly into
her eyes. He wanted to punish her for what she'd done. "*He*
allowed you to be taken from me... *He* shot my father..." He
looked to the ceiling and then back to her with a small sarcastic
bark of laughter. "Fuck, Scully, he helped *kill* your sister! How
the fuck can you sit there and listen to him feed you bullshit
when he killed Melissa, and for all we know *took* Nathan?!"

She let her eyes fall from his, her gaze drifting around at the
room in a bitter stare. He knew that bringing Melissa into it had
been a low blow, but he hadn't said anything that wasn't true. She
was being completely irrational - something Scully never was. At
least the Scully he knew.

Instead of the concession he had hoped for - almost expected - she
returned her gaze to meet his slowly, angry tears beginning to
stream down her face. "No, Mulder, you don't know what I went
through. You don't know a thing about it. I was pregnant. Do you
understand what that means? To be pregnant? I had another person's
life to think about with every step that I took. I had to live for
nine months wondering if my child would ever even know what his
father looked like. Can you even *imagine* what that's like?" She
gave him a bitter, angry smile that almost tore through his
emotional barrier all on its own. "So yes, I believed Krycek when
he told me things that I needed to know. I believed Marita. I even
believed the fucking bounty hunter when he posed as Skinner for
*two days* after he'd been killed. Because you know what? I needed
to believe *something*. And if you can't understand or at least
accept that, than you're a bigger hypocrite than I ever thought."

Mulder said nothing for almost 5 seconds as she stared up at him,
waiting for a response. "Then why won't you believe me?"

The words were spoken so gently and with such earnest pain that
Scully nearly broke down and hugged him. But she couldn't simply
forget everything for one moment of sincerity. "Mulder-"

He wouldn't let her answer. "Agent Fielding said that your mother
checked me into the hospital. Did you even come check to see if I
was alright?"

"Nathan-"

He cut her off. "He wasn't missing until this morning."

She swallowed and set her jaw, attempting to word her response
delicately. "I was... afraid. At the time."

Comforting anger washed over Mulder's mind, allowing him to push
back the vulnerable pain. "Afraid of me. Because for all your talk
about trust and love, you still think I'm capable of willingly
harming you."

She glared at the wall rather than making actual contact with him.
"Well if you're not, then explain the note. How did you know what
was on it?"

Both the anger and the pain rose up even more. "I don't know. I
had a vision. But that's not even the point, Scully. The point is
that you're so fucking bothered by it! You should *know* beyond
any doubt that I could never do something like that. Can't your
fucking rational mind allow you to even *look* for another
explanation?"

She let her vision drop to the carpet at her feet. Her words were
a whisper that left her mouth before she could even consider their
truth. "Maybe it'd be easier if you were hurt."

"What?"

She continued to stare at the floor, her voice rising slightly in
volume. "I said, maybe it would be easier for me to believe you if
you were hurt."

Mulder stared at the top of her head in confusion, waiting for her
to continue.

Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet his. "I came back to you in a
coma. Maybe it would be easier for me to trust everything you say
if you hadn't shown up looking like you'd been on vacation all
nine months while I was going through hell." It took the actual
voicing of the words for her to realize their validity. She had
never once doubted that the note had somehow been forged until he
returned. While she hadn't completely disbelieved Marita's claim
of Mulder making a deal for her fertility, the prospect of such a
deal hadn't seemed such a horrible thing until he showed up
perfectly fine, apparently suffering no major inconvenience for
this 'calling' which he hadn't bothered informing her of.

With her simple statement, voiced softly as if it were a harmless
thought, all of Mulder's anger came crashing down around him. His
chest physically hurt with the new pain that accompanied his
guilt. He'd lost nine months, but she'd had to *live* them.

"Scully-"

"No. I'm sorry." She looked dazed as she slowly took a step back
from him and began heading toward the stairs. "I... I have no
right to blame anything on you, Mulder. We're in this together. Go
call the Gunmen." With that, she was gone. He heard her bedroom
door shut several seconds after she disappeared from his vision.
He wished he could convince himself that she believed her own
words.