Samuel 
By Invisigoth421 
invisigoth421@hotmail.com 

Distribution: OK to Xemplary, ATXC, Gossamer.. everywhere else ask me
first
Spoilers: Basically the whole Scully abduction/Emily arc, and a few
from "Drive"
Rating: This section - PG
Classification: X
Keywords: None
Summary: Mulder and Scully discover that Emily was not the only child
created from Scully's DNA after her abduction.

Disclaimer haiku:
Mulder and Scully
They do not belong to me
They belong to Fox

PROLOGUE:

"Mulder, it's me."

Fox Mulder's ears perked up at the sound of Dana Scully's voice, and a smile
blossomed on his usually somber face. Swiveling around in his chair,  he made sure
the door to his office door was closed . The walls of the Hoover Building had
ears, and it was best not to let them catch... anything. Even if he was just
talking to his partner - *former* partner, he reminded himself with a sigh -  who
just happened to be a half an hour late for work.

"Scully, where are you?" Mulder asked. He tried not to sound as if he had been
concerned, or checking his watch every five minutes, or looking at the phone
constantly wondering if he should phone her. It was best not to let on that he had
been worried. Well, it was best to try, at least.

"I was getting  worried about you. Are you coming in today? Kersh wants us to go
over our report from the Crump case again."

So much for not letting on that he was worried. Saying "I was getting worried
about you" was sure fire way to let someone know you were worried about them. So
was babbling incoherently. He stopped abruptly.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Mulder swallowed
nervously as he waited for Scully to reply. He knew what she was going to say
before she said it. He had gone over every possible scenario in his head, and this
had been one of them.

"I can't come in today Mulder, I..." she paused. No surprise there. But there was
something wrong with her voice. As always, she was characteristically less than
exuberant, but that wasn't the only thing Mulder noticed. Dana Scully sounded...
Well, she sounded sad.

"Is everything all right?" Mulder asked, knowing what the answer would be.

A sigh. "Yes Mulder, I'm fine."

No surprise there, either. Did Scully ever tell him when something was wrong? He
had become accustomed to being lied to in that regard.

"Mulder, I'm fine". Translation: "I feel like shit, but I don't want to talk about
it with *you*. Or anyone."

"I just have a touch of the flu. I already told Kersh, but I wanted to tell you in
person. I'm sorry to leave you hanging like this."

Terrible things went through Mulder's mind. So many things had happened to Scully
in the past five years, but by far the worst had been her abduction and...

It was hard to think about that. He had blocked it out of his mind. He had come so
close to losing her. But if She wasn't feeling well, it could mean....

What if the cancer was back?

Mulder, that's ridiculous, Scully's voice said in his mind. Mulder smiled
inwardly. His conscience always spoke to him in Scully's voice. Heck, Scully *was*
his conscience.

Of course it was ridiculous! She just had a flu. No need to worry. No point in
worrying every time she was under the weather.  Pretend you're not worried, at
least. All right, you already let her know you were worried. Just pretend you're
not *too* worried. Lie through your teeth.

"Hey, Scully, it's OK. Just... take care of yourself. Is there anything you need?"

"No, nothing Mulder. I just need some rest.  I promise I'll be in tomorrow."

"Don't sweat it Scully. Take as much time as you need. The work will still be here
when you get back."

He heard a faint chuckle on the other end. Good. It was always a good sign when
she laughed at his jokes.

"Want me to drop by later?" he asked hopefully....just so I can make sure you're
OK?  He didn't add the last few words. Scully did not like to be checked on.

"No Mulder, I think... you'd distract me too much. I just need to be alone and
sleep."

Damn! Shot down again. Why wouldn't that woman let him comfort her once in a
while? Did she always have to be tough as nails? The worst part was being a
psychologist and knowing that behind any tough as nails exterior there was usually
a very soft, vulnerable person who was afraid to be hurt. Mulder had seen that
side of Scully once or twice, for a few fleeting moments. Although those moments
had scared him, it had been nice to know that Scully was human too.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Mulder replied dejectedly.

"Tomorrow," Scully said, and hung up without a goodbye. No big deal, Mulder told
himself. Saying goodbye was something the two of them never really bothered with
on the phone. But this time....

All right, he was worried about her. Worried, and maybe just a little bit insulted
that she would refuse his company. All the more reason to believe there was
something she wasn't telling. A Scully sick with a mere flu wouldn't mind Mulder
coming over to see her. A seriously sick or depressed Scully would, especially if
she wanted to maintain her tough as nails exterior, or refrain from worrying him.
What if something was really wrong?

No, that's just paranoia talking. She has the flu, and there's nothing to worry
about. Put it out of your mind, Mulder!

Mulder sighed and  turned back to his computer; to the next X-File he would
attempt to recover from destruction. If Kersh could only see him now. "I want you
to re-do your report", he had said. Sure, Kersh, I'll re do the report. Later.

XXXXXXXXXX

6:00.

Later had come sooner than Mulder had expected. The time had flown by since that
morning, and Scully's phone call, and all the worrying. Unfortunately, the report
Kersh had asked for would have to wait until Scully was back, and a few other
minor assignments had been ignored. That didn't matter. The important thing was
that  a few more X-Files had been restored. X-Files which hopefully wouldn't fall
into the greasy hands of Spender.

And as for Diana...  He hoped she wouldn't get her hands on them either. Something
about her was wrong. She wasn't the same person he had known seven years ago. He
had defended her to Scully at one point, but maybe that was just his own way of
protecting his vulnerable emotions. Inside he had felt completely betrayed.
Betrayed by someone he had trusted. Not to mention devastated.

All the more reason not to trust anyone but Scully.

Scully....

She had been on his mind all day. It was silly, he knew, though he couldn't help
worrying about her. Her cancer had been such a harrowing experience for her, but
Mulder didn't think she had even the vaguest idea how much it had affected him. He
couldn't imagine life without her. It didn't matter that she drove him crazy. It
was as he had observed before: she was his conscience. His best friend.

"You keep me honest," drifted into focus from his brain's random access memory.
"you made me a whole person."

Every word, true. Even the kiss had been the most honest thing Mulder had ever
done. He would go to the ends of the earth for her - and he was probably the only
man on earth who could truly say he had done just that. The fear of losing her
again had been just too much. And now he couldn't help worrying every time she
caught a cold.

Mulder, you're pathetic, you know that? His Scully conscience told him. He
produced a lopsided grin as he exited the Hoover Building.

Outside, it was raining. This didn't help things. What was it about a rainy,
overcast day that made all of your problems seem worse? Mulder contemplated this
as he pulled out of the FBI parking lot and headed home, his windshield wipers on
high. Mulder tapped his fingers to their oddly infectious rhythm as he
contemplated Scully's words to him on the phone.

"I'm fine. I just have a touch of the flu..."

But Scully hadn't sounded sick. She hadn't looked sick the day before. Of course,
there were always those colds and flus that crept up on you out of nowhere: one
minute you felt great and the next minute you felt like death warmed over.

Scully didn't *get* those. When was the last time Scully got a cold? She was Ms.
Healthy. Always eating right, exercising when she had time. No, he had thought of
it before and he was certain of it now. Scully was depressed.

Scully had plenty to be depressed about.  But there was one thing Mulder knew
about Dana Scully - she had never let depression, or emotions, get in the way of
her work. Something must be really wrong.

Upon reaching the turnoff to his street, Fox Mulder drove past it and headed for
Scully's apartment.

Her lights were out.

This was the first thing Mulder noticed as he drove up to Scully's building. It
was barely 7:00 at night, and not a single light burned in her apartment, at least
from what he could see. This disturbed him.

She's probably just asleep, right? he told himself. If she has the flu, she's
asleep.

Phone, he thought. Yes, that would do. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He
pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number.

No answer on the first ring.

No answer on the second.

Third, fourth, fifth, sixth...

Scully's apartment wasn't that big.

Maybe she was a deep sleeper?

Not good enough. He had to know. He parked the car and got out.

Dana Scully wasn't answering her phone. Nor, it seemed, was she answering her
door. If she was home, she was most likely sleeping like a log.

Wouldn't it be best to leave her alone, and let her get some rest? Yeah, Fox.
Sure. Whatever.

He knocked again. Waited. Waited for the reassuring sound of her small footsteps
coming to the door.

Waited for the sound of her voice: "Who's there?".

Waited for: "Mulder, what are you doing here?"

Mulder, you're a worry wart, his Scully-conscience told him when the real Scully
didn't answer. What is Scully going to think if this is the way you react every
time she wants to be alone?

No, worried people don't answer to rational thought, he told himself with a grin.
He reached into his pocket and found his key ring. A blatant miss-use of his key
privileges, meant only for emergencies. Well, this constituted as an emergency.

Mulder shut the door behind him as slowly and quietly as possible, wincing when it
insisted on creaking its way through the last few inches. He stood there for a
moment in the darkness, - yes, all of the lights were definitely out - waiting for
his eyes to adjust, and then walked into her living room.

She wasn't there. Strike one.

Her couch was empty. And so it should be, Fox. She's got the flu and she's in bed.
Sleeping. You should leave before she wakes up and gets really pissed off at you.
Mulder had a brief vision of the last time he had appeared in Scully's apartment
unannounced like this. For God's sake, she had almost taken her shirt of in front
of him. "Keep going, FBI woman," he had said. He chuckled as he remembered the
moment. Man, had she been pissed! "Mulder, what are you doing in my apartment in
the dark?"

He smiled despite the fleeting wisp of regret that she had not been happier to see
him in her bedroom in the dark.

Don't think that way about Scully, he chided himself, as his eyes scanned the room
for evidence of Scully.

It paid off. There was a sliver of light  inching its way across the floor on the
other side of the room.

Of course! Her bedroom. She was in there, and the light was on, and she was
reading, or she had fallen asleep reading. That's good. Now just knock and explain
to her what the hell you're doing here. Hopefully you can get a few words in
before she kicks you in the balls.

He knocked on the bedroom door. No answer.

This was getting too creepy. He opened the door.

Well, there she was. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was laying there, sleeping,
one hand draped off the side of the bed holding ... was it a photograph?

Her other hand was empty, and on the table beside her bed was... oh no....

Mulder dashed to the side of Scully's bed and grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills
from her bedside table.

It was full.

He almost laughed at himself. Why wouldn't Scully take sleeping pills? She
definitely seemed like the type. Scully was the stress queen. Not only that, but
she had been through enough to give her nightmares for the rest of her life.
Sleeping pills seemed logical. He inspected the label. They were self prescribed.

Thank god, he breathed. He put a finger gently to the side of her neck and felt
her pulse, beating steadily and assuredly. No problem here. She had taken a
sleeping pill to help her sleep.

Curiosity overtook him and he bent down to retrieve the photograph she held in her
hand.

Sadness washed over Mulder as he looked at the face in the picture. Sadness not
for himself, but for Scully, and for all of the pain she had been through. A
little girl grinned back at him, a huge smile on her face as she stood over her
birthday cake, oblivious to what she was and the future that would befall her.
Emily.

"Oh, Scully..." Mulder said out loud as he fingered the picture. Of course, it
explained everything. Scully, depressed over Emily's death, had called in sick and
later taken a sleeping pill to help her sleep. Not uncommon. How many times had he
felt the same way about Samantha?

This was different, though. It was as though Emily had been a cruel torture to
Scully. Scully, who had just found out she could no longer conceive a child, found
Emily, her own flesh and blood, only to have her taken away.

It was a terrible thing. It made Mulder seethe with anger every time it crossed
his mind. Poor Scully. She had been through so much.

And he would be through more when she found out he'd come into her apartment like
this, uninvited, and without her knowledge.  She would likely never forgive him.
He turned and tiptoed towards the door.

END OF PROLOGUE

So, was she coming in today or what?

Mulder looked at his watch for the 10th time in as many minutes. It was 9:45 -
where was Scully? No show, no phone call, nothing.

Scully, why do you do this to me? He thought, reaching for the phone. It rang just
as his fingers brushed the receiver.

Mulder quickly drew his hand back and regarded the machine for a moment. One ring,
two. OK, it was safe. Didn't want to seem like he was ready to jump on the
receiver or anything.

"Mulder," He said as nonchalantly as possible.

"Mulder, it's me."

Ah, Scully's voice. How relieving to hear it, after all the worrying he had done
since yesterday morning.

"Scully," he said, trying to sound unconcerned and failing horribly. "Where are
you? I'm doing all the work by myself, here."

"I'm coming in Mulder, " she said "I'm sorry. My alarm didn't go off." Indeed, her
voice sounded slurred and groggy, as if she had just woken up. Mulder decided it
was more likely that the sleeping pills had caused her to sleep right through her
alarm. He said nothing.

"Does Kersh know what's going on?" Scully asked.

"I told him you were sick, Scully. That's all he needed to know. He's still
waiting for his report from us though."

There was a pause on the other end. "Thanks Mulder. I'll be right over." With no
goodbye as usual, she hung up. Mulder sighed thoughtfully as he replaced the
receiver and turned to stare back a his computer screen, though the images on the
screen never made it past his eyes to his brain. His mind was on Scully. He was
still worried about her.

"How many of those X-Files do you have restored now?" Dana Scully's voice asked
from the vicinity of Mulder's doorway.

Mulder's head jerked up from the work he wasn't even looking at. He hadn't heard
her come in.

"How long have you been there?" he asked, looking up at her. She didn't look good.
Her face was pale. She had dark circles under her eyes. Her careful grooming and
makeup did little to hide it.

"Long enough to see you were disobeying Kershe's orders... again." Mulder
chuckled. "What will he do? Fire me? Then... no! I wouldn't be able to investigate
piles of manure anymore!" He gave her a hopeful, lopsided grin. Scully smiled,
almost sadly, at Mulder's sarcastic joke.

"You aren't thinking of leaving again, are you?" she asked.

Mulder shook his head. "No, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let weasel boy and the
she-beast  destroy the X-Files. Kersh'll have to fire me to stop me. And what he
doesn't know won't hurt him." He fixed his eyes on Scully's. "But why don't you
tell me what's up, Scully. You look like a truck hit you."

"Gee, thanks," She said, looking offended. "I was sick, Mulder. I still feel sick.
Do you think I should look like miss America?"

Mulder ignored the question. "I tried calling you... you didn't answer."

"I was probably asleep." Her words were blunt and emotionless. Mulder sighed. He
knew the truth, but there was no way she was going to confirm it for him. If only
once... just once, she'd let him know what was going on in her emotions, maybe he
could offer her some comfort. Maybe he could do the things friend were supposed to
do for friends. If she'd ever let him....

"Well, come on Scully, let's get this shitty report finished," he grinned at his
lame joke, hoping he could make her smile again. She did, and for that, at least,
he was glad.

"Have a seat," he said, pulling up a chair for her.

"Mulder... I was wondering..."

Mulder's ears perked up. She was going to ask him something? Ask, Scully! Ask
anything. Anything I can do to help.

The creak of Mulder's office door opening interrupted Scully's question. Oh damn,
Mulder thought. It's probably Kersh checking up on us...

No, it wasn't Kersh. The person standing at the door was a tall, dark haired woman
the very sight of whom made a wave of uneasiness wash through the room. Scully
shifted in her chair and avoided eye contact. Mulder looked up reluctantly.

"Good morning Fox," the woman at the door said.

Mulder winced. I wish... I wish you wouldn't call me that! Not even my best
friends  - he glanced at Scully. - call me Fox. You're the last person I want to
call me that anymore. Aloud he said nothing. He merely stared up at the woman who
had re-appeared into his life unannounced and taken over everything that was dear
to him. He had almost trusted her a few weeks ago. He had almost believed she had
taken over the X-Files for his own benefit. Two weeks of hearing nothing from her
-not a peep of information about the recluse Alien, or of Gibson -  had changed
that opinion.

Well, she hadn't taken *everything* that was dear to him. Scully was still here.
Mulder noted with some irritation that the woman at the door hadn't bothered to
address Scully.

"What can I do for you, Agent Fowley?" he asked, calling her by her last name and
hoping she'd get the hint.

"Fox, can I talk to you.... in private?"

She didn't get it. Mulder fought back the urge to roll his eyes. "I think whatever
you have to say, Agent Fowley,  should be suitable for Agent Scully's ears as
well."

Scully smiled in spite of herself, but in the end it was she who took the most
noble course of action.

"I'll wait outside," She said, standing up. She turned to Mulder and gave him a
look that said "You'd better tell me what she says or I'll castrate you," and left
the room.

Scully stood outside Mulder's office, tapping her foot, and waiting. She had tried
a few times to listen at the door, but it made her too nervous. After all, what
would Mulder think if he caught her?

She sighed, and her thoughts drifted back to the last day and a half. It had been
horrible. It was nearing the anniversary of Emily's death, and all of the memories
she had been pushing back over the past year were returning. Emily... such an
innocent little girl, with no idea what she was, or what was happening to her. And
despite what she was, the fact remained that she was Scully's. Emily had been her
flesh and blood, the only child Scully would ever produce - never mind the means
of how she was made - and now she was gone. Gone as soon as Scully had discovered
her.

Wasn't everything that had happened to her before that enough? The abduction, the
cancer... why this added pain, this byproduct of everything else that would remind
her for the rest of her life?

Scully felt tears come to her eyes. She brushed them away quickly, hoping it would
just look like she had been coughing or sneezing.  How long would she have to fake
being sick before she could just admit to Mulder she was depressed? Well, she had
been about to say something to him, but that was before Diana Fowley had walked
in. Scully smiled, recalling the way Mulder had refereed to her as "Agent Fowley".
She didn't like Diana.

She tried to tell herself if was just because she found her a suspicious character
but it was more than that. Mulder was her best friend, her partner. He meant more
to her than that, though she didn't often admit it. They hadn't talked about it
much. The fact that they had very nearly kissed outside of Mulder's apartment
several months ago was nearly forgotten.

No, that was wrong. It wasn't forgotten at all. It was just avoided. Before she
had time to return to wondering what they were talking about, the door opened.
Mulder ushered Diana Fowley out of the room without a word, and stood there
holding the door open for Scully.

"What did she want?" Scully asked when they were back inside. She could see the
anger seething behind  Mulder's eyes at her question, but thankfully the anger was
not directed at her.

"She wanted the files I've been working on. Can you believe it? Talk about a lot
of nerve."

Scully raised her eyebrow. "Any file in particular?" she asked.

Mulder shook his head. "none in particular, but I think she must have some kind of
motive. She and weasel boy can't go very far without them."

"How did she know you were restoring them?"

Mulder shrugged. "In a moment of stupidity I must have told her. Shoot me now,
Scully."

"Should I bother to ask what you told her?"

"Of course not. Do you think I'd give them to her? Even if I trusted her, which I
don't, I wouldn't want that little prick Spender getting his slimy hands on them."

"I just hope... well, I hope she doesn't turn on you like she did before."

Mulder shrugged and sat back down. He was tired of talking about Diana. "Let's get
back to this report," he said, hoping to change the subject.

"One more question," Scully said, in spite of noticing that he was getting tired
of answering questions. "Why did she want me to go outside?"

"Beats me. She feels threatened. Or maybe she didn't want YOU to feel threatened,
but I don't think she'd do something that noble. Can we stop talking about her
now?"

Scully nodded, sitting down again. The question she had been about to ask Mulder
before Diana had barged in still lingered in her mind. She pushed it aside. Save
it for another time.

xxxxxxx

Another day, another stupid case to investigate.

Mulder blundered into his office early, feeling as depressed as he knew Scully had
a few days ago. The report for Kersh had been finished the previous evening.
Scully had been informed that same evening that she had been assigned to another
case that didn't involve Mulder whatsoever. Mulder wondered cynically what sort of
degrading case his new boss would have for him this morning. He thought
reminiscently of Skinner for a moment, realizing he actually missed working for
the guy. He had been tough, but under that exterior was a man with a strong sense
of justice. And Mulder believed that Skinner actually cared about the X-Files and
its cause. Kersh didn't, that was plain to see. It was hard to shake the feeling
that Kersh was somehow involved with the plan to get rid of the X-Files.

So many conspiracies, so little time. Mulder  opened the door to his office. The
post-it-note stuck to his office door did little to improve his mood. Mulder just
had time to see the name "Kersh" on it before it fluttered to the floor. His heart
sank as he picked it up. It was time for the latest crappy assignment.

"Agent Mulder -
See me in my office first thing this morning,
-- Kersh"

Mulder took great satisfaction of crumpling up the note and tossing it into the
wastebasket. Then he turned around and left his office, heading down the long
corridor Kersh's office. It reminded him vaguely of being sent to the principal's
office in High School. Somehow, he was going to get in shit for something.

xxxxx

"Suspended without pay"... the words rang through Mulder's mind in a horrible,
taunting echo, like those songs that just won't get out of your head no matter how
much you hate them. He shuffled slowly to his office, barely noticing that Scully
was right on his heels.

She had been in Kersh's office when he had arrived there, of course. Just in time
for Kersh to inform them something neither of them had expected. He knew about the
X-Files Mulder had been restoring on work time. He knew Scully had known and had
said nothing. In turn, he had suspended them both without pay for the next month.
They were not to work on any assignments together afterwards, perhaps forever.
They were not to have anything to do with the X-Files.

But it wasn't that Kersh had found out that bothered Mulder the most. No, it was
the first words out of his mouth that had bothered him.

"Agent Fowley has informed me...."

That BITCH! Mulder thought, fuming as he was reminded of the incident. But that
wasn't the worst part. The worst part was now he was required to hand all of his
restored X-Files over to her and... that creep, Spender.

In a brief moment of daydreaming, Mulder saw his fist connecting with Spender's
face. Heard the sound of his pointy little nose cracking. He smiled. He knew
Spender was working with that cigarette smoking man. He had seen them together.
And after today's events,  he was almost certain that Diana was involved too. And
now she would have access to his X-Files, and he was powerless to stop it.

Well, he wouldn't take them to her. That would be too much. She could come and get
them herself.

Mulder entered his office, allowing Scully to enter behind him.

"Well, I supposed being suspended is better than investigating piles of manure,"
she said, in an uncharacteristic attempt at humor.

Mulder shook his head and began going through the files he had taken so much time
to restore.  "I'd like to kill her, Scully. She's worse than Krycek. Her and that
little bitch Spender."

"I'm so sorry Mulder... all your hard work," Her voice trailed off.

"All *our* hard work," Mulder corrected her.

But Scully hadn't noticed. There was something else on her mind. That question she
had wanted to ask him yesterday still nagged at her. And the biggest problem was,
it was related directly to these files that Mulder was about to leave in a box on
his desk for Agent Fowley.

"Scully - will you do me a favor?"

"Sure Mulder. Anything."

"Come over."

Scully's eyes widened. This was interesting. Come over. Where? To his place? Why?
"Ummm... what for, Mulder?"

"Scully... I'm so mad right now, I think I need you around to keep me in line. Is
that all right? I'm afraid I might do something drastic otherwise. You know me.
You keep me honest."

Scully nodded. That's me, she thought. Always the rock. Unable to ask for someone
else to be MY rock when I need it. But I'll do it, as always. I'll keep Mulder
honest.

"OK Mulder. But can you do me one small favor. One... tiny favor?" It was time to
ask the question, no holds barred.

"What?" He asked, looking suspicious.

"My file," she said. "The one with all of the information on my abduction... and
Emily. Do you have it?"

Mulder smiled, a reaction she hadn't expected. She'd hardly dared hope that he had
it. Little did she know Mulder was secretly rejoicing. Rejoicing that he had been
correct in his assumption. Scully was depressed about Emily.

"I've got it," he replied.

"Can you keep it? Do you think she'll miss it?"

Mulder smiled wider. She was admitting something, at least. It was the first
indication she'd given him since the other day that she was even thinking about
Emily. Well, it was time to admit something to her.

"Scully, that file wasn't even in the office when it was burned."

"What?"

Mulder looked at the floor, slightly embarrassed. "I've kept it at home for ages.
I was worried the wrong people would get a look at it. And it turns out it was a
good thing I did. "

Scully shook her head. "You amaze me, Mulder." Why had he done this? How... odd.
It was incredibly odd. He hadn't even kept his own sister's file at home -and he
had confided in her that that had been the one file he couldn't find. It was
missing. Yet for some reason, Mulder had seen fit to take his partner's file home
for safe keeping. Why?

He thought of asking her what she wanted it for, but he felt he already knew. it
was obvious, she wanted to keep the information on Emily close to her. Maybe there
was more to it, but he'd ask her that later.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was still raining outside, as it had been all day and the two days before that.
Mulder's apartment looked dark and dreary as the two agents made their way in.
Scully hadn't bothered to go home. Mulder was still fuming, and he knew the danger
of his own impetuousness. It didn't matter. There was no reason for her to go home
anyway, except to be depressed.

"You haven't cleaned up in a while," Scully said with a hint of affection as she
entered Mulder's apartment. There were clothes on the floor, dishes on the coffee
table and on top of the TV, and papers everywhere.

"Scully," Mulder replied, discreetly picking a pair of boxers up from his couch
"You've seen me at my worst. You can handle my messy apartment, right?"

Scully smiled and said nothing. This didn't feel right, coming here to help Mulder
when she felt like she needed help too. But this wasn't Mulder's fault. How could
he know if she hadn't told him?

She still looks sad, Mulder thought, trying to dispose of his scooby-doo underwear
without her seeing it. I wonder if I should ask? After all, here she is coming
over to my place to support me. The least I can do is offer her some support too.
Whether she would accept it would remain to be seen.

"Wanna order a pizza, Scully?" Mulder asked, hoping the offer would cheer her up.
He picked up the phone book as if to emphasize.

Scully nodded. "Sure. Beats cooking."

Yes! He quelled the urge to jump for joy. She was going to be a sport. Perhaps she
would even be fun to hang out with tonight. He loved hanging out with Scully just
for fun. There was something about being with her as friends and not as co-workers
that made him feel like he was more to her than just a work partner. He was her
friend. That feeling was important to him.

"what kind?" He asked.

"whatever. No anchovies."

As Mulder dialed, Scully looked around. His apartment was a mess, but that didn't
concern her. he was a guy. Guys had messy apartments. What concerned her was that
she couldn't get her mind off that file.

What if...?

Nevermind.

I wonder where he keeps it?

"Mulder, about that file..." Scully prompted as she dug in to her third piece of
pizza. In front of her, the TV blared out an episode of  "Star Trek" which she was
looking at but not watching. Mulder had watched in amazement as petite Scully
wolfed down almost as many pieces as he had. Had she forgotten to eat for the past
few days too?

"Oh, right, the file!" Mulder said, jumping up. "You want it right now?"

Scully nodded. "I kind of have a notion about something..."

"What sort of a notion is that?"

Scully smiled but said nothing as she chewed contentedly on her pepperoni with
mushrooms.

The enigmatic Dr. Scully... Mulder thought as he opened the door to what was
supposed to be his bedroom. Boxes filled the room, covering the entire floor and
stacked as high as the ceiling. Her file was in a box right at the front of the
pile - easy access. He opened the box and grabbed it.

I really should clean out my bedroom someday, he thought as he headed back to the
living room. He handed the file to Scully.

"So what's this notion of yours?" Mulder asked as he polished off the last piece
of pizza.

He had lost Scully a long time ago. her fourth piece of pizza lay unfinished in
the box, and her file lay spread out in front of her on the floor where they sat.
Mulder had continued to watch Star Trek, which had turned out to be his favorite
episode "The Trouble With Tribbles". He had seen it a million times, not once
intentionally. It just seemed to always be on when he turned on the TV. It didn't
matter. He enjoyed it every time.

"Mulder, you'll think I'm nuts," Scully replied, not looking up.

"Scully," Mulder said, his attention grabbed "Far be it from me to ever say *you*
were nuts. Come on!"

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Mulder, you know what time of year this is, right?"

Stupid question, Mulder thought. How could he forget? He had never seen Scully in
so much pain. To find out that you could never have children was bad enough, but
then to find a child that was your own and have her taken away from you, that was
worse. He didn't know how she could bear it.

"Scully..." Mulder said in a warning tone. "That's a silly question."

"OK, Mulder, of course you remember her... It was just a way of bringing it up.
I've been thinking about her a lot lately."

Ask it! Now! Mulder heard a voice in his head say.

"Is that why you stayed home yesterday?" there, it was out. Too late to take it
back. Scully was less shocked at his question than he had expected. But as always,
her face didn't betray her emotions. And neither did her words.

"No, Mulder."

Damn, she was good at lying! Mulder knew Scully would never lie to him about
anything important. But when it came to her emotions, lying was kosher with
Scully. Her emotions were off limits.

Keep going, Mulder, the voice told him. You're a psychologist, you can get it out
of her.

"Come on Scully, I know you weren't sick. You looked depressed but you didn't look
sick."

Scully regarded him for a moment and then looked back down at her file. He heard
her take a deep breath, as if she was desperately trying to repress some unwanted
expression of emotion. It only took her a second and she was back to normal,
looking up at him with that raised eyebrow. Years of practice, Mulder thought.
Does she even know *how* to express emotions anymore?

"I'm fine Mulder,"

Of course. Of course she was fine. Scully was *always* fine. Mulder shook his
head. Well, she wasn't going to confess now. Best to let her get on with her
question.

"What I was thinking was... is it possible that Emily wasn't the only one?"

That was not a question Mulder had expected. His thoughts went back to that day...
when Scully lay in the hospital undergoing chemotherapy, and he had run off on his
mad quest to save her life. He remembered the Kurt Crawford clones, and the rows
of drawers containing ova harvested form Scully and the other women like her. He
had taken a vial of her ova, but that didn't mean that they hadn't been used
before he had done so. More children like Emily? It was not only possible, it was
more than likely.

"Scully, in light of some of the things I found... I think it's very likely. Why?"

Scully shrugged and looked back down at the floor again. Had she never thought
about this?

"I wonder how I would go about finding them."

Oh Scully, what are you thinking? Mulder wondered. Do you want to put yourself
through more pain? These children will be hybrids just like Emily. They won't be
human, they won't be anything you could realistically care for. Most of them will
probably die just like Emily.

"Why, Scully?" Mulder asked.

Scully shrugged. "Curious, I guess."

This was too much.

"Scully, don't play games with me. I know you're not curious. That's not all of it
anyway."

"what *is* all of it then, Mulder?" Scully asked, annoyingly calm and collected as
ever.

"You miss Emily. I can see that. I *know* you Scully! You want to go out and find
some other kid just like her so you can ease the pain, feel better about the whole
thing, right? Maybe find a kid you can adopt? I'm sorry Scully, you *are* nuts!
What makes you think any child created by the same means as Emily is going to
cause you anything but pain?" Scully sat up straighter. Her defenses were up now.

"You of all people should call me nuts, Mulder. Or warn me about going on a
foolish crusade. After all of the crap I've been through with you... I've stood by
you, I've lied for you...  And here I am tonight protecting you so you don't go
off and do something stupid. How can you say this to me?" Her face was turning
red, rapidly catching up with the color of her hair. Here comes the Scully Irish
temper, Mulder thought.

"No, Scully, that's not what I meant. I just..." he reached out to touch her arm
but she pulled away. "Scully, I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

Scully stood up. "I'll be the judge of what I can and can't do," she said,
stepping over the papers scattered on the floor and picking up her high heels
which she had discarded earlier that evening.

"Scully, don't go..." Mulder pleaded.

"Why Mulder? So you can spend some more time telling me how foolish I am and then
go off chasing aliens somewhere and expect me to follow?"

"I was just trying to help, Scully... I..."- I care about you Scully, I do. Why
can't I say that out loud?

"I'll see you at work tomorrow, maybe," she said, pulling on those famous Scully
high heels that could have been a foot high, as far as Mulder was concerned.

"Scully, please."

Too late. Short of tying her down and forcing her to stay there was nothing he
could do.

Dana Scully left, slamming the door behind her.

Great, Mulder said to himself. One of these days they're going to evict me.

Well, this is a fine mess, Mulder thought, standing at his front window. Outside,
he saw Scully  start up her car and drive away, quickly and agressively. Boy, was
she mad.

What to do now? Of course, he had every intention of helping her if that was what
she wanted. For a person so unwilling to show emotions, Scully certainly wasn't
afraid of showing anger.

If only he could have gotten past the argument, and into the fact that he *would*
help her if she wanted him to so badly.

He looked down at Scully's file, scattered all over his apartment floor as an idea
worked its way into his mind. It would be dangerous. Heck, it had nearly gotten
him killed once before. But was there really anything he wouldn't do for Scully?

Of course, it was important to take the path of least risk first, and that path
lead him straight to the door of Byers, Langly and Frohike. They had once hacked
into a file kept on Scully at the Lombard Research Facility. That file had
contained information on the gene code that had made Scully sick. If they could
try it again, and get more information, maybe... Well, there was hope. And he
hoped that it would be that easy again. If he had to go straight to the facility
to get the information he would, but if he could possibly do it without getting
killed he preferred to try that first.

"Who's there?" a wary voice called from behind the door before Mulder had even
knocked.

"It's Mulder, Frohike. Open up."

Mulder waited for a moment as Frohike checked the video monitor to make sure it
was really him. He  heard the sound of many locks, deadbolts and chain-latches
being opened. After what seemed like a half an hour, the door swung open.

"Where's your pretty partner?" Frohike asked as Mulder stepped in.

"Most likely at home throwing darts at a picture of me," he replied with a sly
half-smile.

Frohike frowned, but then brightened up as another thought came to him. "If she
hates you now, maybe I'll have a chance."

Mulder chuckled at Frohike's innuendo.  Frohike and the other guys always teased
Mulder about his relationship with Scully. It amused Mulder. Mulder smiled as he
followed Frohike into the main area of... well,  chaos. Mulder couldn't think of a
better word to describe it. Byers and Langly sat there, deeply engrossed in a game
of Tomb Raider.

"I was wondering if you guys could help me with something," he said slowly. Three
pairs of eyes perked up and looked at him. The game was paused. They were
interested. These guys were always interested if there was a conspiracy to seek
out.

"Remember a few years ago when Scully was in the hospital? OK, dumb question. You
guys hacked into the Lombard Research facility and pulled out a file on her,
remember?" Three heads nodded in unison.

"I was wondering if you could do it again."

Three separate eyebrows raised.

"Is Agent Scully all right?" Byers asked , sounding concerned. And he had every
right to be. The last time they had done this, Scully had cancer. And while it was
in remission, cancer was never something that was cured. There was always the
possibility... but that wasn't happening now, fortunately.

"She's fine," Mulder replied. "She doesn't know I'm doing this." Well, that was
partly the truth. She wanted it done, sure enough, but she had no idea that Mulder
had taken it upon himself.

"What in particular are you looking for?" Frohike asked as he sat down next to
Byers and Langly.

"Any information on children made from Scully's DNA."

"Like Emily?" Frohike asked.

Mulder nodded. "I want to find out if Emily was the only one made, or if there
were others."

"Won't be easy," Langly said, reluctantly turning off the game. "But we can try."

"How long will it take?" Mulder asked.

Langly shrugged. "Anywhere from a half an hour to all night. Do you want us to
call you when we find it?"

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, that would be great. I'll come right back as soon as you
call me."

"Say hi to Agent Scully for me," Frohike said as Mulder turned and headed for the
door, not sure what he was going to do while he waited. It would be best not to
bother Scully now. she'd need at least  a few days to stop hating him. Home? He'd
probably just get there and have to turn around again.

He had driven for barely 10 minutes when his cell phone rang.

Mulder felt a sense of ominous dread as he headed down the hallway to Scully's
apartment the next morning. The dread grew stronger as he neared her apartment
door, as if the very energy emanating from behind that door was meant to steer him
away. Was she still mad at him? Would she even talk to him? Would she give him the
chance to tell her what he had found? Well, she would have to. He wouldn't leave
until she did.

He approached the door cautiously, the way he might have approached a felon waving
a gun.  He gulped, feeling as though his heart was trying to work its way out
through his throat. There wasn't much that scared Mulder - he had seen too many
things throughout his life to scare him. There were only two things that really
made fear well up inside him. One was losing Scully. The other was being around
her when she was mad. He knocked.

There was a pause. The sound of footsteps.

"Who is it?" Scully called, even though Mulder knew she could see him through the
peep hole.

"Scully?" he said, trying to sound quiet and helpless, like a lost puppy. She
opened the door, and Mulder felt his heart sink back into his chest cavity. Her
eyes were soft, and her lips formed a smile when she saw him. "Can I borrow you
for a second?" he asked with a lopsided smile.

"Sure Mulder," she replied, stepping aside to let him past.

"Mulder, before you say anything," Scully said as soon as he closed the door
behind them "I'm sorry. I was very mean to you last night and I'm sorry. You were
right."

Wow, Mulder thought. Scully, apologizing! This must be a sign of the coming
apocalypse! "I was right?" He asked, more in amazement that she would admit that
than in doubt. He smiled his lopsided smile.

"Yes, Mulder... I *have* been missing Emily a lot and I *have* been depressed. I
did what I did because I thought..."

"Wait, Scully," Mulder said, putting a hand on her arm. "Before you completely
negate everything you said last night, let me tell you what I found." He pulled a
stack of computer print-outs from underneath his arm and handed them to her.

"What's this?" Scully asked, taking the papers.

"The Lone Gunmen helped me out on this. They have this handy little computer chip
that helped them hack into the Lombard Research Facility's database when you had
your cancer. I asked them to do it again, and they found..." He reached out and
leafed through some of the pages Scully was holding "... the entire file on you."

Scully peered down at the piece of paper Mulder had revealed to her. Her name was
at the top in bold lettering. Below her name was a list of other names, and
addresses, and dates.

"Emily Simm" was the first one. It gave what Scully assumed was her birthdate, and
the familiar address to which Scully had been led that strange morning in
December. Bold lettering beside her name indicated the word "deceased". Scully
felt the threat of an onslaught of emotion at reading that word. Deceased.
Deceased before I even got a chance to know her. Deceased, just like my ability to
ever have a normal child of my own.

But Emily's name wasn't the only one on the list. There were 2, no, 3 more. All
named Emily, all with the same birthdate. Their addresses and last names, however,
were different.

"these are all..." Scully was too stunned to speak. More children, created in the
same manner as Emily. It was horrifying to think that Emily...- sweet, innocent
Emily -  was not the unique little girl she had appeared to be. She was the
byproduct of a horrible experiment. An experiment that was as inhumane as it was
unbelievable. Emily might as well have been part of an assembly-line production.

"... All of the children created from you," Mulder finished for her.

"How  did they find this so easily?" She asked, astonished.

Mulder shrugged. "Ask the Lone Gunmen and you shall receive," he replied, smiling.
"and apparently, Emily wasn't just a name, it was a kind of a code name. I have a
feeling all of the children on this list were clones, and Emily was the name given
to the clones made from your DNA. Just like the Gregors, and the Kurts Crawfords."
Scully scanned the list again, and something struck her. Besides their names and
birthdates, there was only one other similarity that struck her. It was the fact
that every one of these "emilys" had the word "deceased" in bold letters beside
their names.

"But Mulder, they're all... all..." How could this be true? Why had he bothered to
bring her this information.

But Mulder shook his head. "Not all," he replied. If all of the children had been
dead, he supposed he would never have bothered to show her. Scully did not want to
know about the children of "hers" that had died. She wanted to find the ones that
were alive.

"Next page", he told her.

Scully pulled up the page she was reading to look at the one underneath it. It was
arranged the same, and gave another series of names and birthdates. Samuel was the
name that all of these boys shared in common. That and their birthdates, more than
a year after Emily's. And all of the boys shared the word "deceased" beside their
names, though it did not specify the manner of death. Scully tried not to think of
it. She assumed they had all died in a manner similar to Emily.

All but one.

"Samuel Callan," Scully mused out loud. "Born October 20, 1994." She read farther.
"Vancouver, Canada?" She said, looking up at Mulder.

"he's a foster child, not adopted like Emily," Mulder told her. When she gave him
a questioning look, he replied "We looked him up while we were at it. I guess
that's what these people do - they farm these children out on unsuspecting parents
as helpless little foster children, or as orphans. I  suspect the parents don't
know what they are any more than the kids do."

Scully's eyes fogged over. She seemed about to cry, but a sniffle and a deep
breath cured that. She approached Mulder slowly and cautiously fell into him,
sliding both arms around him.

"Thank you Mulder," she said.

He enfolded her small frame in his arms. "Your welcome," he replied softly.
Anything for you Scully, he added in his mind. Anything to make you happy.

**********************************
Title: Samuel: Part 2 of 3
Author: Invisigoth421
Email: (invisigoth421@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mulder and Scully travel to Vancouver to meet Samuel. There is
an interesting development regarding the identity of Samuel's father.
Archive: Anywhere, as long as my name and email remain attached

Disclaimer poem :
Mulder, Scully and the X-Files
I'm just borrowing them for a while
Don't own them, never said I do
I'll give them back when I am through
They belong to Carter, first name Chris
And now you are aware of this
They're owned by 1013 and Fox
And off them, they make money... lots.
Money? I am making none
I'm just having a bit of fun
That's my disclaimer: now I'm through
I'm innocent so please don't sue

xxxx

Scully gazed through the airplane window at the vast, sprawling city that was
Vancouver.  They had broken through the cloud cover a moment before, and Scully
was relieved that she would soon have her feet on the ground, and be on her quest
to find Samuel.

It was not difficult to find the time to take a jaunt to Vancouver. Suspension for
a month without pay left room for many things, with the exception of money. Scully
had been surprised to learn that Mulder had a substantial amount of savings, which
he had informed her he kept just in case something like this ever happened.
Apparently, suspension was something Mulder budgeted for. This didn't surprise
Scully one but. But did you ever think you'd be hopping clear across the continent
to help your partner search for a child that belongs to her, but that she never
gave birth to? Scully wondered to herself. She smiled, but she was worried.
Worried about the whole process. Her application to adopt Emily had been rejected,
although that had been before it was discovered she was Emily's mother. Still, it
did not matter if Scully was Samuel's mother. They would still review her life and
check her background to make sure she was a suitable candidate to raise him. They
would question her job, but she had decided that after their suspension was over,
she would request a transfer back to teaching at Quantico. It would not be denied,
of that she was certain. In fact, they had asked her many times to return. A lower
stress, less dangerous position like that of teaching would not be as threatening
to the approval as her former position on the X-Files.

They would question why she did not have a record of giving birth to a child, but
she hoped that simply telling the truth would override that. The records of her
abduction, of her missing ova, and of Emily's existence were all available in her
medical records. And  once it was proven she was Samuel's biological mother, there
would be no questioning of the paperwork. The DNA could not be wrong.

But another thing worried her, and that was the fact that she was not in any sort
of relationship. She knew - from experience- that these agencies liked to adopt
children out into stable families. A single parent - no matter if she was in a
less stressful, less demanding job -didn't have a very good chance of adopting a
child, even if she was the child's biological mother. Scully sighed and took a
long, deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in her stomach. She couldn't
think of that now. What mattered the most was that they were trying, and that
their closeness to success was all because of one person. Mulder.

"Mulder," She said. As she spoke,  the pilot announced that they would be landing
in Vancouver shortly. There was a soft "ding" and the fasten seatbelts light came
on at the front of the cabin.

"what is it Scully?" Mulder asked, looking up from the magazine he'd been reading.
He fumbled for his seat belt.

"Thank you," she said, stopping him, and taking his hand in hers. "Thank you for
doing this for me."

"It's all right, Scully. It's nothing."

"It's *not* nothing, Mulder. You've... we..." Somehow the words would not come.
You've risked so much for me, Mulder. You've risked your career and even your
life. And now you're doing this. Words can't express how this makes me feel
Mulder. Maybe that's why I can't say it. He smiled and squeezed her hand. She
didn't need to say it. He knew.

xxxxx

Samuel Callan
Birthdate: Oct 20, 1994
Age: 4
Eyes: hazel
Hair: Red
Address: 1013 Boundary Rd, Vancouver B.C.
Foster Parents: J.C. and Debbie Callan
Source: Freedman Child Services, 1251 Manchester Drive, Burnaby B.C.
Maternal DNA: Dana K. Scully
Paternal DNA: Anonymous

Freedman Child  Services, Scully thougt. Dr. Freedman. She had talked to him on
the phone and made an appointment to see him prior to their departure from DC. It
had gone well, but the feeling of nervousness and worry was still there. Now she
sat on her bed, perusing the document containing Samuel's stats for what seemed
like the millionth time, at least as far as Mulder was concerned. He had made
several jokes about it, perhaps in an attempt to break her from her the serious
demeanor she had taken on since their flight had arrived in Vancouver. Finally he
had become exasperated with her and had taken to rearranging things in their hotel
room. They had picked a small hotel in downtown Vancouver, which looked quaint on
the outside but which was nicer than they had expected on the inside. The rooms
were inexpensive, which was an added bonus when one was spending one's
"suspension-savings" money. It also helped that it was close to everything,
including Freedman Child Services.

It had been Mulder's idea that they share a room, and the clerk had looked at them
strangely upon seeing a man and a woman renting a hotel room together on a Friday
night, requesting one with two separate beds.

Scully had been a little leery of Mulder's idea, though she couldn't fathom why.
It wasn't as though she didn't trust him. It just seemed... odd. It was odd
sharing a hotel room with Mulder, especially since they hadn't shared one in their
entire 5 years of working together. Oh well, she thought,  Mulder works in
mysterious ways. She smiled for the first time since their landing.

"She smiles!" Mulder said, noticing right away. He stopped fussing with hanging up
his clothes and turned his attention to Scully. "So Scully, what are you gonna say
to Dr. Freedman?"

Scully set down the paper and looked up at Mulder. She had gone over this many
times in her head. It required no thought to call it up again. "I have reason to
believe Samuel may be my son and I would like a DNA test done. That's all I'm
going to say. "

"What will they say when there's no record of you  giving birth to him, or anyone
for that matter?"

Scully frowned. She had worried about this too much to be remind of it again. But
this, too, she had thought over carefully.

"I'll tell them the truth Mulder. Everything except your strange theories about
alien hybrids. They don't need much info to do the DNA test, just a blood sample ,
but I suppose if they press to hard I'll tell them. Once the DNA test proves I'm
his mother, nothing else will matter."

Mulder sat down on the edge of the other bed.

"Scully?" He asked, suddenly serious.

"Yes Mulder?"

"Are you... Are you going to adopt this child?" It had been an assumption on
Mulder's part, and a certainty as far as Scully was concerned,  but they hadn't
really talked about it.

Scully did not hesitate in her reply. "Mulder, if he's mine I don't care what he
is or how he was created. Yes, I'm going to adopt him. If they'll let me."

"What about the FBI?" Am I going to lose you, Scully? As always, it was impossible
to say aloud the most important part of the question.

Now that was a tough one. She hadn't mentioned this to Mulder yet. He hadn't
asked. But now was as good a time as any to tell him.

"I don't know Mulder. I was thinking of requesting a transfer back to Quantico.
They've asked me several times, I have no doubt they'd accept my request."

Mulder had been expecting that. After all, they Kersh had made it clear they would
never work together again. It would make sense for Scully to request a job at a
less dangerous post, and teaching at Quantico was perfect for her. They wanted her
there. She was an excellent teacher, diplomatic, just, and skilled in her art.

"If I can take the danger out of my job, and still HAVE a job, my chances of the
adoption being approved are far better," Scully added, though Mulder's mind was
elsewhere.

"Will I ever see you again, Scully?" Mulder asked. As soon as the words were out
of his mouth, he looked down at the floor, avoiding her gaze. Avoiding those
piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore into his soul whenever she looked at him.

Scully had not expected him to say that. She had not expected that it had mattered
*that* much to him. Of course they would see each other! Not as much as when they
had been working together, but they would see each other.

"Mulder... I... of *course*! Do you think I'd forget everything you've done for
me?" Her voice suggested she was appalled that he would even think that.

Mulder smiled, giving Scully his best hurt-puppy-dog look. "No, I can just see you
working and being a mother and all that stuff, and I'll be working in another
basement office somewhere surveiling credit card frauds and kissing Kersh's ass. "

Scully smiled, but said nothing. She had not thought about this; not even bothered
to question it. Of course there would still be room in her life for Mulder if she
adopted Samuel. She couldn't imagine her life without Mulder. Maybe she would see
him a little less, but...

See him a little less? Why don't I like that idea?

"Mulder, you're my friend. Of course there will still be time for you! But right
now, we don't even know if this is going to work."

"I know Scully. Just keep me in mind, all right? You're the only person I know who
does."

Scully felt her heart wrench, and suddenly she felt incredibly sorry for Mulder.
She really was his only friend, and his only family if she could call herself
that. Mulder was not close to his mother. He had no close friends because everyone
thought he was "Spooky". Working so close to him, Scully had come to see that he
was more than that. He was brilliant, passionate and driven. A bit eccentric,
perhaps, but definitely not the man on the brink of insanity that so many people
made him out to be... And when Mulder cared about someone, nothing could stand in
his way.

Scully looked at the clock. It was 3:30 PM.  They had made an appointment to see
Dr. Freedman, the head of the agency, before they had left for Vancouver.

Their appointment was for 3:00 in the afternoon, the next day.

"I want to go now," Scully said abruptly.

Freedman Child Services was located in a vast residential area in the middle of
Vancouver.  If Mulder and Scully hadn't gotten out of their car to look for it,
they never would have found the office. It was inconspicuous,  the sign on the
door too small to be seen from the road.

In fact, from the road, it didn't look like anything but an apartment. A tiny bell
above the door rang as Mulder and Scully entered. The main office was brightly
decorated in pinks and whites, and immaculately kept. In front of them, a
receptionist sat behind a desk, talking on the phone. She looked up at them and
raised a finger as if to suggest she would only be a minute.

Mulder wondered briefly if this clean-cut, innocent looking office had any idea
that at least one of the children they had dealt with was... what he was. He
suspected not, although it was hard to tell. Many innocent looking establishments
had sinister backgrounds, as Mulder had discovered throughout the years. He only
hoped that this one was as reputable as it looked.

The receptionist hung up the phone and leaned towards Mulder and Scully, who were
looking around as if they had no idea what to do.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Her demeanor was friendly, her  voice pleasant.
Mulder and Scully both felt themselves relax.

"I'm Dana Scully," Scully said, approaching the reception desk. She showed the
receptionist her driver's license. "I have an appointment to see Dr. Freedman. Um,
it's for tomorrow. We're early."

The receptionist smiled, "yes, Dr. Scully. You're here about the Callan boy,
aren't you?"

Scully nodded. "Yes. I.... I couldn't wait."

The woman regarded Scully for a moment longer, still smiling. "I understand. It's
hard to wait for something like this, isn't it? I'll go see if Dr. Freedman will
talk to you now."

The woman stood up and disappeared through a door behind her desk. Scully turned
around and regarded Mulder with a raised eyebrow that asked "do you think this
will work?"

Mulder smiled his lopsided, yet endearing smile at Scully. "don't worry" he
mouthed. "it'll be fine."

The receptionist returned a moment later.

"He'll see you in his office," she said, motioning for them to follow. Scully
started to follow, but Mulder stopped her.

"Do you want me to wait here?" he asked.

Scully shook her head. "No. Come with me," this was hard enough to do. She
couldn't imagine doing it alone.  She hated to feel like she needed him, but
perhaps his presence - a familiar presence - would make her feel more at ease. And
Scully knew Mulder too well. He needed to be needed. Well, it was time to allow
him that.

They shuffled nervously into Dr. Freedman's office, feeling awkward in their work
clothes and trench coats. Mulder decided that they must either look like
accountants, or the federal employees that they were.

He smiled to himself, and turned to look at Scully. She looked calm and collected
as always, but behind her eyes he could see the nervousness that perhaps no one
but he would notice. He rubbed her back gently as they entered the room.

The office was small, and as neatly kept as the reception area outside. In the
middle of it was a desk, and behind it sat an older gentleman with kind eyes, and
a distinguished demeanor. Scully liked him immediately. He reminded her somehow of
Skinner, though he seemed to be softer and more personable.

"Dr. Scully," Doctor Freedman said from behind his desk. "you're here about
Samuel," he extended a hand for her to shake.

Scully nodded and smiled, accepting his hand and hoping she didn't look as nervous
as she felt.

Dr. Freedman gestured towards the two chairs that rested in front of his desk.
Scully took his advice and sat down, with Mulder following suit. "Thank you for
seeing us early," Scully told him "We couldn't wait."

Dr. Freedman smiled again. "Yes. Well, I just happened to be free when you came
in. And we rarely get people inquiring about Samuel, I felt it would be best to
see you earlier than later." He smiled at Scully, and then peered over his glasses
at Mulder. "And you are...?"

"Fox Mulder," Mulder replied, not bothering to tell Dr. Freedman his role in
Scully's life just yet. The two men shook hands briefly.

"And you have reason to believe that Samuel is your son," The Doctor said, turning
back to Scully. " How did this come to be?"

Here goes,  Scully thought, hoping she would not come to regret it. If all went as
planned, this whole thing would work. Dr. Freedman might not believe her, but the
evidence was right there in her medical records and there would be no mistaking
the maternity test once it was done. But as always, there was the nagging feeling
in the back of her mind that it would not work as planned . Something would go
wrong and it would all fall to pieces.

Scully took a deep breath and replied, in spite of her fear.

"I was missing for a period of several weeks, about four years ago. I have
conclusive evidence that during that time, my ova were taken from me - you will
even find this on my medical records, and I am now incapable of having a child.  I
can't tell you for what purpose this was done, but it has turned up one child that
was my biological child without a doubt. You'll find this in my records as well.
Her name was Emily Simm."

Dr Freedman did not look surprised or skeptical. In fact, his demeanor gave no
indication of what was going on inside his head. He had quite likely never heard a
story such as this one, but Scully had told it in such a way that it did not sound
as far fetched as it might have coming from someone else.  Scully had concrete
proof and records behind her, and that was enough for her. If Dr. Freedman didn't
believe her now, he would have to once he saw her records.

"I will look into that, Dr. Scully. And you think Samuel is one of the same
children? How did you come to believe this?"

"Through records obtained from a research facility by my partner," she gestured
towards Mulder. Obtained illegally by hacking into the research facility computer,
she added in her head, but that would likely not be checked into.

"And you would like to do a DNA maternity test," Dr. Freedman finished for her.
"I have to admit, Dr. Scully, I find your story rather strange. Downright hard to
believe, in fact, but I will not dismiss you until I look into your medical
records. This is highly unusual, but Samuel is a special case. His foster family
frequently takes children in, but they are overrun right now and would really like
to find a home for Samuel. This agency would too. He is one of those children we
call hard to place, because of his age. ."

"Does he have any illnesses of any kind?" Scully asked, remembering Emily.

"Not that we know of," Dr. Freedman replied. "He's a healthy, normal little boy,
but most people looking to adopt want small babies. Samuel is over 4 years old
now, and not many people want to take on a child that age. Why do you ask? Is
there a record of illness in your family?"

"Yes," Scully replied, quickly trying to cover up her question.  In actual fact
she had been thinking of Emily's condition, hidden under the guise of a rare form
of anemia.

"I underwent treatment for cancer myself." Scully realized that admitting this
might hurt her chances, but it would come up in her medical records anyhow. There
was no hiding it. But the fact of her cancer's remission was a promising factor.
"It has  since gone into remission.  I'm very healthy now."

The Doctor nodded and looked down at the stack of papers in front of him for a
moment.

"I understand you are a medical doctor?"

"Yes. I studied Forensic Medicine and Pathology at Berkley. I also have a BA in
physics from the university of Maryland."

"Excellent, and you are employed with the FBI?"

"yes I am."

"Good," Dr. Freedman said, mostly to himself. He continued to write things on the
paper in front of him. Then he looked up at Scully.

"Well, there isn't much we need to do so far. I need to run a small background
check to make sure you are who you say you are, but that won't take to long. We
can do the blood sample here in my lab if you like. I assume you still  plan to
adopt Samuel if the DNA is a match?"

Scully hesitated for a moment. She glanced at Mulder, but she was met only with a
warm smile.  "Yes," she finally replied. "Yes I do."

"That will require a more complete check of your background, and of whether you
are in the proper situation to care for him.  But we'll worry about that when we

need to," he turned to Mulder. "And I assume this man is your partner?"

"Yes," Scully replied without thinking. Then she caught herself. Of course, 5
years of referring to Mulder as her "partner" had desensitized her to the term.
She had forgotten for a moment that  it was also a term used to refer to someone
one was in a relationship with. Oh great! She thought. What an idiot I am! She
turned to Mulder.

"Good," said Dr. Freedman before anyone could say anything. "If you plan to
petition for adoption, it's always best to be in a long term relationship. We like
our children to go to stable families. How long have you been together?"

Scully opened her mouth to tell Dr. Freedman that she had made a mistake. To her
surprise, Mulder replied  instead.

"Five years," he told Dr. Freedman.

Scully was astounded. Had he misunderstood the question too? She didn't think so.
She looked at  him in surprise and he simply smiled back at her with an expression
that screamed  "don't say *anything*!".

"Married?" Dr. Freedman asked.

"No," Scully replied. "Not yet," Mulder added.

You shit! Scully thought. But somehow she was grateful. It was an out and out lie,
but they both knew it would help her case.

Dr. Freedman smiled. "I'll have Cathy phone Samuel's family and have them bring
him down. I assume you'd like to meet him before we go through all of this?"

"Yes, I'd love that," Scully replied. "Have you spoken to them already?"

Dr. Freedman nodded. "I spoke to them shortly after I first talked to you. I'm
sure they'll be happy to bring him down early. While we wait, come into my lab and
we'll do the blood test here. That will be the easiest way. " he headed out the
door, motioning for them to follow. Scully did not follow right away. She regarded
Mulder with a look of astonishment and questioning, to which he replied quietly.

"I was helping your case, Scully. Don't look at me like that," he walked out of
the office, on the heels of Dr. Freedman.

Scully didn't flinch as Dr. Freedman withdrew what seemed like a gallon of her
blood from the vein at the crook of her arm. Rather, she watched in a somewhat
morbid fascination and clinical detachment as the deep red -almost black - liquid
seeped out of her arm and into the small vial Dr. Freedman held in his hand. It
was over in seconds. Scully pressed a piece of cotton to her arm and Dr. Freedman
placed the vial in a tray and picked up another needle. He turned to Mulder.

Mulder looked at him questioningly.

"Well?" Dr. Freedman asked.

"Well..." Mulder said, not sure what was going on. His eyes shifter nervously.

"I assume you want to do a paternity test as well?" Dr. Freedman said, looking as
confused as Mulder.

Mulder's jaw dropped. It took him a moment to realize his moth was open and he
clamped it shut again. He turned to Scully, who looked equally as astounded. Her
expression clearly conveyed the words "dont look at *me*!"

It was too late to keep Dr. Freedman from noticing their surprise. He cleared his
throat.. "Dr. Scully, as sane a person as you seem, I still find your story highly
unusual. I have no doubt that you are Samuel's mother. Your resemblance is quite
visible. But as Samuel is 4 years old and you have been with this man for 5, it
seems logical..."

"Oh," Scully said, smiling as though she had just realized the whole
misunderstanding. "I... well, yes. Of course. It won't hurt to try will it?"

Mulder frowned, but didn't protest. It was probably a good idea not to stir up too
much attention, especially since Dr. Freedman didn't seem to believe Scully's
story. That fact didn't worry him or Scully - it was right there in her medical
records and he would see it soon enough - but it was best not to make waves.

Dr. Freedman inserted the needle into Mulder's arm. Mulder winced, feeling silly
after Seeing Scully go through the procedure so routinely. It was over before he
knew it, and Dr. Freeman placed the vial of his blood in the tray next to
Scully's. Scully watched, hoping that this small facade wouldn't get them into any
trouble. She tried to convince herself that it was unlikely. They were not
married, there was nobody Dr. Freedman would get in touch with who would tell him
they had NOT been in a relationship for five years. There was no way this could
possibly turn on them, although no matter what the possibilities were, there was
always room to worry about it. There was a knock at the door.

A moment later, the receptionist - Cathy - poked her head in the door. "The boy
and his parents are here," she said  "Would you like them to come in now?"

"Yes, please," Dr. Freedman replied. At his words, Cathy disappeared again.

Scully glanced anxiously at Mulder. He rubbed her back gently again, hoping it
would calm her. He could see that Scully was nervous - perhaps more so than he had
ever seen her. But her nervousness seemed to melt away at the sight of the little
boy who entered the room slowly, cautiously, and by himself.

Samuel Callan was the spitting image of Scully. His features were delicate and
clearly defined. His stature was small, even for a 4-year-old. His hair was bright
fiery red and his face was covered in small freckles. Only his eyes were not
Scully's. His eyes were a deep greenish-brown, and they looked oddly familiar to
Scully, though she could not imagine why. She considered it fleetingly for a
moment, and then the thought was gone. She noticed that Samuel's parents did not
come in behind him. Instead, Cathy followed him into the room.

"He wanted to come in on his own," Cathy explained as she left again, shutting the
door behind her.

"Hello," Samuel said in a voice that sounded unusually clear and defined for a
child his age.

"Hi Samuel," Scully said, crouching down so she was at his eye level. "I'm Dana."

Mulder could see Scully's eyes start to fog over and he smiled. There was no doubt
in his mind who this child's mother was.

"Are you my mother?" Samuel asked.

"Why do you ask that, Samuel?" Dr. Freedman piped in before Scully could reply.

"Anna told me," the boy replied, referring, Scully assumed, to his foster mother.
"She said we were going to see if this lady was my mother."

Dr. Freedman didn't look impressed. Obviously, it was not procedure to inform
children of such things until after the fact, but the boy's knowledge did not
bother Scully. In fact, it comforted her, for the facts did not seem to bother
Samuel. He seemed to be intelligent and mature enough to understand them.

"We don't know yet, Samuel. That's what we want to find out," Scully said. Why
keep secrets from the boy?

"If you're my mom, will I get to live with you?"

Scully was at a loss for words. She looked Samuel in the eye, hoping she wasn't
frightening him as much as he was frightening her. She had suspected the boy would
be oblivious to the situation at best. To see him so clearly aware of what was
going on took her aback.

"I'd like to live with you," the boy continued, his words carefully chosen and
easily pronounced. "If you're really my mom."

Scully felt tears come to her eyes, and one slipped out and slid down her cheek.
She wiped it away, hoping nobody noticed.

"We'll see, Samuel. But right now Dr. Freedman wants to take a sample of your
blood, so we can see if I am your mom."

Samuel said nothing, and stuck out his arm for Dr. Freedman.


"He's highly intelligent," Dr. Freedman told Scully after Samuel had left with his
foster parents, who had hardly bothered to say hello.

Scully assumed their detachment was an act of protection for Samuel. It was
obvious the boy was eager to find his mom, and perhaps they didn't want him to get
his hopes up.

Dr. Freedman continued.  "He has an IQ far above genius level and from what I've
heard about your background, Dr. Scully, it runs in the family," he smiled at her
and regarded the three vials of blood on the tray. "Now, I can take these samples
in, or you can do it yourself. It doesn't really matter."

"I'd like to do it," Scully replied. That way, there would be no possibility of a
fraud. She had seen Dr. Freedman take the blood from her, Mulder, and Samuel. If
she were to take it to be analyzed, there would be no chance of being misled. Dr.
Freedman had seemed trustworthy, but Scully had learned over the years not to
trust anyone. Trust No One. Not even kindly doctors who seem to be telling the
truth.

"If you would like to let me know when the results are in, and bring them down,
then we can go over the final stages of adoption if that is your request," Dr.
Freedman said. He picked up the tray and handed it to Scully.

Scully nodded, taking the samples from him. "We'll be in touch."


The weather in Vancouver was not much different from the weather in DC, Mulder
noted as the rain poured down around them in buckets. The windshield wipers of
their rental car set on high, the two agents drove through downtown Vancouver,
taking in the lights and the beauty of the city in the fading daylight.  It was
not yet 5:00, but being in the middle of November, twilight had come rather
quickly. They had left Dr. Freedman's office several hours ago. Scully had taken
the blood samples to the Vancouver General  for an unbiased analysis. The results
would be in the next day, and in the meantime, all they could do was wait. Right
now, there was time to discuss other things.

"Why did you tell him that, Mulder? That we were together? Were you planning that
all along?" Scully's blue eyes reflected the streetlights as she looked at Mulder
questioningly.

Mulder kept his eyes on the road as he drove. "No Scully. It was totally spur of
the moment. You remember how being single affected your case when you wanted to
adopt Emily, I thought it would help."

"But you lied, Mulder. WE lied. If anybody finds out..."

"Scully," Mulder said, reaching out to take her hand. "Nobody is going to find
out. For all anyone knows, we could've been secretly 'doing it' for the last 5
years," he grinned.

"It just doesn't feel right, Mulder," Scully replied.

Mulder sighed. "Scully, he even said to you that being in a long term relationship
would help your adoption case. You heard him, and you heard the social worker when
you were trying to adopt Emily. You know as well as I do that single people are
rarely candidates for adopting children. You told him the truth about everything
else, even about your abduction. He's going to see you're not lying, and there's
no way he can truly determine if we're together or not. It can't hurt."

Scully turned to focus her eyes on the road in front of her, watching the
streetlights slip by her in their never-ending pattern.

"We're partners," Mulder added "We're friends, aren't we? That's what matters the
most. We might not be lovers Scully but you are the closest thing I have to a
relationship. As far as I'm concerned, what I told Dr. Freedman was true."

Scully swallowed. What is it about you Mulder? She wondered. Sometimes he could
seem so callous and unfeeling, and then he would come out with words that touched
her like nothing she had ever heard. Where did those words come from?

"You're my one in five billion,"

"You keep me honest"

"I owe you everything, and you owe me nothing."

And now this.

"Mulder, I..." how did you reply to something like that? "Thank you." she said. Oh
great. That sounds just lovely. That's almost as bad as saying "I know" when
someone says they love you. She turned to Mulder and realized it did not matter
what she said. His mind was already elsewhere.


Mulder glanced in the rearview mirror, noticing with some concern the closeness
with which the car behind them was following. The same car which had pulled onto
the road behind them as they had left the Child Services building. He had seen it
then, but had taken no notice of it. The fact that it was still behind them after
their trip to the hospital, and after several hours, didn't just disturb him. It
scared him.

He quickly tried to dismiss it as Scully spoke. She had found one last thing that
nagged at her mind.

"But we don't live together, Mulder..."

"Nobody said we had to be living together," Mulder replied. "Scully, you're
driving me nuts!" he said. "Just accept it. Accept what I said, all right?"

Scully thought for a moment. She was trying to convince herself that all of this
seemed wrong, but somehow, strangely, it seemed right. After all, if she were to
adopt Samuel, Mulder would likely be the closest thing to  a father figure that
the child had. Mulder was good with children. Scully had seen that when Mulder had
been around Emily. She laughed, thinking of his Mr. Potato Head face. He hadn't
had much of a chance to talk to Samuel, but Scully knew they would get along. She
had even seen something in Samuel's eyes that reminded her of Mulder, though she
couldn't put her finger on why.

"I guess it can't hurt," She replied. She paused for a moment, suddenly realizing
that he was still holding her hand. She didn't bother to do anything about it and
changed the subject. This was getting far to serious and emotional for her.

"I like it here," Scully said. "It's pretty."

Mulder smiled. "What do you want to do now, Scully?" he asked, hoping she would
not disappoint him by saying she wanted to go back to their hotel room and study
her file some more.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

Mulder's smile widened. Dana Scully, open for suggestions. It was a rarity and he
was going to take advantage of it.

"Let's go out for dinner. I'm feeling weak from loss of blood."

"Sounds good to me," she replied. "Where to?"

Mulder glanced in the rear view mirror. The car was still behind them.


Dinner was over, and Mulder and Scully felt the day's events finally starting to
wear them out. The day's events had been physically and emotionally draining, not
to mention aggravating. Mulder collapsed face down on his bed as they entered the
hotel room.

"No magic fingers," he said, sounding dejected.

Scully smiled. "Nice hotels don't have magic fingers," She replied sitting down on
her own bed and slowly removing her high heeled shoes, trying not to think about
how much her feet hurt.

"Do nice FBI agents have magic fingers?" Mulder asked, getting up and looking
purposefully at Scully for a moment.  Scully whipped her head around to look at
him, eyes wide. She appeared as though she might slap him right then and there,
but Mulder quickly turned away and went to the window. He parted the blinds
slightly and gazed out at the street below.

"What is it, Mulder?" Scully asked, noting his expression of determination and
concern. Mulder made a motion for Scully to come to the window. She did so,
wincing as the her feet touched the floor. She had hoped she would not need to use
them again that day.

"See that car?" Mulder  asked as she approached.

Scully peered out between the crack in the blinds and noticed a black sedan parked
across the street, not far from where the two agents had parked their rental car.

"What about it?" She asked.

"That car was behind us the entire way from Freedman's office. Every time I looked
in the rearview mirror, it was there."

He expected Scully to dismiss his concerns, but to his surprise she did not. She
looked at the car for a moment longer, studying it with her usual scrutiny.

"I see two people in it," she said. "What do you think is going on?"

"What do I think? I think there's more to Samuel than Dr. Freedman let on.," he
paused. "No, scratch that. I think he's honest. I think there's more going on than
Dr. Freedman *knows*."

Scully felt fear well up inside her. Of course, she had thought of this
possibility. But she had never really let herself believe it would happen. Emily
had been evidence of the government's wrongdoings, and so she had been protected.
Samuel was evidence in the same sense as Emily. If he was being protected... who
knew what lengths they would go to to keep Mulder and Scully from gaining access
to Samuel. The boy was no doubt a partial link to some of the truths Mulder had
sought. If not an alien hybrid like Mulder believed, still evidence of what the
government had been doing to women like Scully. Incriminating evidence.

Neither of them had to voice their concerns. Each knew what the other was
thinking. "Mulder, what.... what can we do?"

"Watch our backs, Scully. Very carefully."


Scully opened her sleep-weary eyes, squinting against the bright light of day as
she did so. She had slept fitfully all night, worrying about one thing or another.
It was amazing what the mind could create when one was half asleep, and how it
could magnify small things into terrifying mountains of fear. And when your fears
were terrifying when you were wide awake, worrying about them at night multiplied
them tenfold. Scully had worried that the maternity test wouldn't match. She had
worried that her adoption request would be rejected. But most of all, she had
worried about that black car parked outside their hotel room, and the motives of
the two people in it.

Waking up to see  Mulder standing by the window, peering out of the blinds didn't
ease her mind at all.

"Mulder..." Scully said, sitting up on her elbows.

"It's still there Scully," he replied. "They're watching us. I'm sure of it now."

"But what... have they done anything?"

"Nothing but sit there. One of them had binoculars for a while but I think he gave
up. Mostly, I think they're just waiting for us to leave so they can follow us."

He saw the fear in her eyes once again. This was unusual and it scared him. Scully
was always so collected and brave, but the moment she had realized the possibility
that all was not well - that they were being watched, as usual - her demeanor had
changed. She was truly frightened. And why not? She was in a vulnerable spot.
Scully had hoped for this so much. She was so close to finally having what she
really wanted, - and now the possibility had arisen that it might end in tragedy
as it had with Emily. Scully could not bear that possibility and Mulder could see
it clearly. For once, she was letting him see it.

"Don't worry Scully," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "They probably don't
know we're onto them. We'll find a way around them. Go out the back door and catch
a cab if we have to, or something."

Scully nodded, still unable to shake the horrible feeling that had befallen her.
She glanced at the bedside table. It was past 11 AM. "Stupid jetlag," She mumbled
out loud, although according to the time difference between DC and Vancouver, her
body clock should have been set 3 hours later. In DC it was already 2 PM.
Realistically, she should have woken up at 5:00 in the morning.  Exhaustion then.
That's what it was. Travel exhaustion.

"Why didn't you wake me up, Mulder?" Scully asked.

He shrugged. "You looked like you needed sleep."

Scully dragged herself out of bed and over to the window. She shuddered at the
sight of the black car, still parked across the street, and the two men -or was it
a man and a woman? - still watching them. They were dedicated, she would give them
that much.

"is it anybody we know?" She asked Mulder.

"I can't tell. Did you bring your binoculars?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Scully replied. She left Mulder's side for a moment
and returned with a small pair of binoculars in her hand. Cautiously, she
positioned them so they would not be visible to the people in the car, and peered
through them.

"I can't see - these binoculars aren't  very powerful," she complained as she
adjusted the focus. "wait, that's better." A face came into focus. A familiar
face, and for a moment Scully did not believe what she was seeing. She adjusted
the focus again. No, there was no mistaking it.

Scully stared in disbelief at the face she saw in the round viewscreen in front of
her eyes. No, disbelief was the wrong word. She had suspected this all along.
Mulder had told her many times of his distrust for this particular agent, and now
here it was, laid out in front of them.

"Mulder," Scully said slowly "it's Spender."

"Oh Jesus," Mulder said, "that little bastard! I KNEW it! I knew he was up to no
good! Can you see who the other person is?"

"Just a minute, I... Oh, shit."

"What?"

"I think he saw me. They're driving away. Hang on. No, they're gone." Scully
lowered the binoculars slowly. "I don't believe it," she said.

"Followed us from DC," Mulder said. "the little weasel!"

"Who do you think sent him?"

"I don't know. Maybe Kersh wanted to see where we went. But I'll bet you any money
our chain smoking friend is behind this somewhere. I'd bet my life on it."

Scully let out a sigh, and set the binoculars down. Then without warning, she
slumped to her knees on the floor and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, Scully..." Mulder said, the anger in his voice leaving, replaced by
compassion and sadness. "What's wrong?" But he didn't need to ask. He knew. The
minute Samuel had walked into the room, he had known. They didn't need  a DNA test
to know that Samuel had been created from Scully. The boy was the spitting image
of his mother, both in appearance and intelligence. And it seemed to Mulder that
right from the start, Samuel had felt drawn to Scully, even so far as to say he
would like to live with her. After all of that,  Scully had to find out that it
was not going to be that simple. They were being surveilled, and by Agent Spender,
of all people. Why couldn't this just work out once? He wondered. Just once, why
couldn't Scully have something good happen to her? Hadn't she been through enough?

Mulder knelt on the floor beside her and put his arms around her, pulling her
close. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. Instead, she buried her face in his
chest and let the tears flow freely. Mulder held her tightly and said nothing. Her
small body shuddered as she cried, and Mulder felt his shirt start to grow wet
from her tears. This was probably the first time she had cried this openly in
years. There was no way he was going to try to stop her.


The phone, however, was not so understanding. It rang loudly, and Scully leaped to
her feet. Could this be the phone call they had been waiting for since yesterday
afternoon? Or was it something more sinister?


Scully was on the phone by the second ring. She calmed her emotions. Stifled her
sobs.

"Hello?" she said, trying to sound casual. "Yes, all right. Thank you!" She hung
up and grabbed some clothes from her open suitcase.

"The results are in," she told Mulder. "come on!" she disappeared into the
bathroom and returned a moment later, looking slightly disheveled, but
presentable. "Let's go!"

Mulder laughed. All bad thoughts forgotten for the moment, he grabbed his coat and
followed her to the door, looking out the window once more just to make sure.

The black sedan containing Agent Spender and his companion was nowhere to be seen,
but nonetheless, Mulder and Scully snuck out the back door of the hotel and hailed
a cab to the hospital.


Scully's hands were shaking as she opened the package containing the test results.
She had waited for the entire cab ride back to the hotel room to see them, and now
that she was finally placing them on the table in front of her, she could barely
see them through the shuddering of her hands. Mulder sat across the table, equally
nervous, almost unable to wait.

Scully pulled the first piece of paper from the envelope.

"DNA Maternity Test" It read at the top. The names on it read as they were
supposed to: "Dana Katherine Scully" and "Samuel Joseph Callan". Scully ignored
all of the other type. The only thing that caught her eye was the words that
indicated the result of the test.

"Result of Maternity Test of Dana K. Scully to Samuel J. Callan: Positive"

That was no surprise. She had known the moment she had seen Samuel. She smiled.
The first step was over.

"Is it positive?" Mulder asked, leaning over for a better look.

"Yes," Scully said with a smile. "It's a match. I knew it was. I knew it the
moment I saw him," Her face lit up like it always did when she offered one of her
rare, full-toothed grins.

"Did mine match too?" Mulder asked with one of his sarcastic grins.

"Gee, Mulder, I'll have to check that out!" Scully said, still smiling in spite of
all that had happened.

She pulled the next piece of paper from the package. "DNA Paternity Test" , it
read at the top of the paper. She read it out loud for emphasis while Mulder
looked on, still grinning. "Fox William Mulder and Samuel Joseph Callan". Scully
skimmed the test, barely noticing anything it said. It was only when her eyes
picked the word "positive" out of the jumble of letters before her eyes. She
stopped reading. What did that say? No, it had to be wrong. She went back to the
beginning and read through the results slowly and carefully, word for word.

"Oh My God," She whispered.

"What, Scully? What is it?" he asked. The smile was still on his face. He still
thought she was joking.

"Mulder, you match," Scully told him.

"*what*?" Mulder asked? "You're kidding, right Scully?" he approached the table
and snatched up the piece of paper, as Scully released it from her limp hand. His
eyes skimmed the paper, skipping over all of the unnecessary details until he came
to what he was looking for. He felt his knees grow weak, and grabbed the side of
the table for support.

This was impossible. It had to be a mistake. But it was there in plain sight, the
words leaping at him from the paper, bold faced and seeming to taunt him with
their sinister simplicity. Simplicity that held the deepest and most shocking of
revelations.

"Result of Paternity test of Fox W. Mulder to Samuel J. Callan: Positive".