From: "Donnilee" <donnilee@snet.net>
Date: Sun, 18 Jul 2004 13:53:57 -0400
Subject: "Seeing Double" by Donnilee

TITLE:    SEEING DOUBLE
AUTHOR:   DONNILEE
E-MAIL:   donnilee@snet.net
RATING:   NC-17
CATEGORY: MSR - XF/RSD CROSSOVER
KEYWORDS: Angst, Anal Sex
DISCLAIMER:  Nope. Not mine.
SPOILERS: END GAME, HERRENVOLK, TALITHA CUMI, CLOSURE, 
THE SIXTH EXTINCTION 1 & 2, EMILY, SMALL POTATOES
TIMELINE: Near the end of Season 7.  No Requiem.

DEDICATION:  I'd like to dedicate this one to FatCat, my beta reader 
who encourages me constantly and fixes all my boo-boos.  Thanks for 
being there.  Means more than you'll ever know.

SUMMARY:  Mulder is accused of something he didn't do.  Fearing 
clones and alien bounty hunters, it leads Mulder and Scully to someone 
they never knew existed.

XXXXXXXXXX

PART 1 (PG-13)
GEORGETOWN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
THIRD FLOOR 
FRIDAY - 3:00 PM

"It's not mine, Scully," I hissed through my teeth.   We were standing
in a 
hospital corridor and I didn't want to make a scene here.

She looked at me with such sad eyes I felt my heart fall into my
stomach.  
She didn't believe me.  "Mulder, everything points that way.  Why are
you 
denying this?" she asked softly.
 
"I am NOT lying to you," I said, realizing that's what she really was 
thinking.  "Can we go somewhere and talk about this?"  She hesitated.  
"Please, Scully.  I don't know what the explanation is but I swear to
you," 
I said, swallowing around the lump in my throat.  "IT'S.  NOT.  MINE."

She took a deep breath and said, "Don't you want to be with her and the 
baby?"

I looked at her and shook my head.  "No, I want to be with YOU."

"Not very noble of you, Mulder," she said sadly.

I gritted my teeth, took her by the arm and marched her into the waiting

room a few feet down the hall.  Skinner looked up from where he sat in a

chair in the corner.  "Get out," I barked.

He stood and glared at me.  Scully gave me a look of disgust and shook 
my hold off her arm.  "Mulder!"

"I'm sorry, Sir.  Could you excuse us for a minute?" I asked, barely 
suppressing my frustration.  I wanted to explode, but knew I had to keep

my cool if Scully was going to listen, really listen, to me.

He nodded curtly without saying a word.  He gave me a look of disgust 
and walked out, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"That was rude," Scully said.

"Yeah, well, I'm not feeling very magnanimous right now.  I don't know 
what the fuck is going on.  Someone is trying to pin this on me, and 
doing a damn good job, I might add.  If they are trying to drive a wedge

between us, I'd say they're accomplishing their goal, wouldn't you?"

She plopped down in a chair and I began to pace.  "What am I supposed 
to think, Mulder?  The woman identified you the minute you walked in 
there."

I spun and stared at her, feeling a tear fall down my face and doing 
nothing to stop it.  Her face softened briefly but then I watched the
mask 
drop down again.  "What are you supposed to think, Scully?  I'll TELL 
you what you're supposed to think.  You're SUPPOSED to give me, your 
partner, your BEST FRIEND, the benefit of the doubt.  You're 
SUPPOSED to want empirical evidence like you do for every other 
damned thing in our lives.  You're SUPPOSED to help me figure out 
what is going on here.  INNOCENT until proven guilty, remember that 
one, Scully?  Or has that totally fucking escaped you?" I finished, 
practically yelling now.

Her indifferent expression vanished and her lower lip trembled.  I 
swallowed around another lump of tears that threatened and blinked 
rapidly.  I looked her in the eye and said, "I need you, Scully.  I need
you 
on this.  I need you to help me.  You KNOW ME.  How can you think I'd 
lie about this?"

I couldn't look at her anymore and spun around.  I paced over to stand
as 
far away from her as I could get, braced my hands on the wall, and 
stared at the water stain on the wallpaper.  I hung my head and closed 
my eyes tightly.  A moment later her hand fell on my shoulder and I 
winced.  I heard her sigh.  "Somebody got her pregnant, Mulder," she 
said softly.

It was her way of saying she was going to give me the benefit of the 
doubt.  It wasn't absolution.  It wasn't saying that she believed me,
but it 
was something and right now, I'd take what I could get.  I pulled my
right 
hand off the wall and placed it over hers on my shoulder.  "Will you
help 
me find out who?" I asked quietly.  "Or am I on my own with this?"

I turned slowly and looked down into her earnest face.  "I'm with you, 
Mulder.  I'm sorry.  I was just shocked.  You're right, though.  We
don't 
really know anything yet.  It's her word against yours.  I shouldn't
have 
jumped to conclusions."

"Do you believe me?" I asked.

She looked down.  "Honestly, I don't know what to believe, Mulder."  She

paused.  "However, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

I squeezed her hand and lowered it, clasping my fingers through hers.  
My left hand came up and I used two fingers to lift her chin.  "Look at 
me."  I waited for her eyes to meet mine.  "You know I can't lie to you 
when you look me in the eyes, don't you?"

She nodded.  I held her gaze for a few more moments.  "It's not mine, 
Scully.  I've never seen that woman before in my life.  I swear on 
Samantha's grave, it's not mine."

She took a deep breath and I watched tears pool in her eyes but they 
didn't fall.  She nodded slightly.  "I don't really have a right to be
upset."

"Of course you do.  That's a big thing not to tell your partner."

She looked away and back again.  "I'm not your wife, Mulder, or your 
girlfriend.  I just didn't want to think you would keep something so 
important from me.  Considering my own infertility, you'd have to know 
something like this would be significant to me."
 
"I didn't keep it from you because it never happened," I said simply. 
"I 
swear I've never seen that woman before in my life, let alone slept with

her."

She stepped into me and I caught her up in an embrace, holding her 
cheek to my chest.  I kissed the top of her head.  "I want to talk to
her," 
she said after a couple of seconds.

"Alone?"

"Yes.  I know you.  I know things about you.  If she'd been intimate
with 
you, she'd know them too."

I nodded, suddenly afraid, even knowing I was innocent.  "Someone did 
a good job of setting me up, Scully."

"I know, I'm not stupid, Mulder.  I'll make arrangements with Ms. Quist
to 
get a sample of the baby's blood.  We can get a DNA work up done, but 
it will take a number of days for that to return."

I nodded.  "I'm going to talk to the Gunmen, see if they can do some 
research on this woman."

"She's convinced it was you."

"Or someone that looks like me," I suggested.  "I'll have them check to 
see if Eddie Van Blundht is still in jail, too.  He's fooled people into

believing he was me before.  It could be something more sinister, 
something our enemies have planned."

Scully stepped back and looked up at my face.  "What are you thinking?"

"We know those alien bastards can look like anyone they want to.  
You've experienced it first hand.  You thought it was me in that hotel 
room, remember?  You didn't suspect a thing until you had one me in the 
room and another me on the phone."

She gasped slightly.  "I hadn't thought of that."

I shrugged.  "It's one possibility."

She nodded.  "I'll meet you back at my place, O.K.?"

"Yeah," I said as I watched her walk back down the hall.  She was 
hurting, but she still had my back.  Her infertility was still a touchy 
subject.  Didn't she know I would never have kids with anyone but her?  
We definitely had to talk, soon.

XXXXXXXXXX
ROOM 306
FRIDAY - 4:00 PM

Jennifer Quist looked up as I entered the room.  She didn't look
alarmed.  
"Hi," she said softly.

"Hello, I'm Agent Scully," I said, holding out my hand as I approached
the 
bed.

She shook my hand and I sat in the chair next to the bed.  "I know. 
That 
big guy, Skinner, told me."

I nodded.  "I need to ask you some questions."

"Do I need a lawyer?" she asked with a smirk.

It pissed me off.  I frowned at her.  Her smirk slid away.  "This isn't
a 
laughing matter, Ms. Quist."

She smiled again but there was no mirth in it, more irony.  "Don't you 
think I know that?  Call me Jennifer, please."

I nodded, accepting her offer of a truce of sorts.  "Agent Mulder says
he's 
not the father of your child.  In fact, he says that's he's never met
you 
before in his life."

She blinked as her eyes filled with tears.  "Hey, I wasn't looking for 
marriage.  Maybe I even knew it wouldn't last, but I didn't think it was
so 
bad he would deny ever knowing me."

"Where did you meet?" I asked, as if I believed her.

"San Diego, California."

"Really, how long ago?"

"About a year, give or take," she said with a sigh.

"I spent some time in San Diego.  Where did you meet in San Diego?"

"You lived there?"

"Navy brat," I said by way of explanation. 

She nodded.  "We met at a bookstore."

"What bookstore?"

"It's called Mystical Memories."
 
"Do you know what month it was?"

"January, it was cold.  I saw him reading some book on alien abductees' 
case studies.  I laughed at him and we got talking."

I swallowed a lump.  It was time to find out where Mulder was a year 
ago, I thought.  "Did you introduce yourselves?"

"Yeah, he introduced himself as Jay."

"Did he give you a last name?" I asked, thinking that that wasn't one of

the false identities that Mulder normally used.

"Winters.  Jay Winters."

"So what happened?"  I coaxed.

"Nothing.  We talked, we laughed, and then I gave him my phone 
number and left."

"Did he say what he did for a living?"

"He said he was an architect," Jennifer stated.

"I assume he called."

"Yup, a couple weeks later.  We went out on a few dates and within two 
weeks I ended up in his bed."

"Where did he live?"

"Carmel Terrace; 11540 Windcrest Lane, San Diego, CA 92128, 
Apartment 2-D."

I scribbled down the name of the complex and the address. 
"How long did you date?"

"About three months."  

We'd be checking that out for sure.  I KNEW Mulder had not been away 
for three months total in the last five years.  "Now, Jennifer, I need
to ask 
you some personal questions," I said.

"All right."

"How many times were you together?"

"Only takes once," she joked.  Seeing I wasn't amused, she said, "I
don't 
know, ten or twelve times."

"Then what happened?"

He just stopped calling me and he didn't answer my phone calls.  I would

go there and knock and no one would answer.  I contacted the landlord 
and he said that he hadn't seen him in weeks, but his rent was paid for 
the next six months.

I found out I was pregnant and decided he simply wouldn't want to know. 

He obviously didn't want to date anymore.  So I more or less wrote him 
off, but then the closer I came to having the baby, the more it bugged 
me.  I figured he deserved to know, even if it meant I'd have to handle 
the rejection.  I went to the firm where he had said he worked, and they

told me he'd taken a leave of absence a few weeks before and they 
hadn't seen him since."

"That's strange."

"Yes, it was."

"What led you here?"

"I got pregnant," she said sarcastically.  

I sighed.  I supposed I couldn't blame her for being upset, but so was
I.  I 
couldn't let her know that though. I was a professional.  I could do
this.

"I mean what made you look for him here in D.C.?" I asked, rephrasing 
the question.

She swallowed.  "I asked the guys he worked with if he had any
relatives.  
I was really pregnant by then and they must have felt sorry for me. 
They 
pulled his personal file and said that he listed a Teena Mulder as his 
emergency contact while he was gone and she lived on Martha's 
Vineyard."

I had to visibly stiffen in order not to gasp.  This was looking more
and 
more like a set up.  "And?" I asked, barely able to say that one word.

"And I went to Martha's Vineyard, thinking this Teena was just another 
woman that he'd taken up with."

"What did you find out?"

"I found out that Teena Mulder was dead.  When I showed his picture 
around, the neighbors said his name wasn't Jay Winters, it was Fox 
Mulder, his mother was Teena, and he was an FBI agent in Washington, 
D.C."

"You'd never met any of his family on the West Coast?"

"No, but he'd told me his father was dead, and his mother's name was 
Brooke Winters, hence me not thinking Teena was his mother, but 
another woman he'd gone to visit."

"You have a picture?"

She nodded.   "Yeah, just one."

"Here?  With you?" I asked.

She nodded and pointed to the bedside table.  "My purse is in there.  
Could you get it for me?"

I nodded and bent over, opening the bottom of the rolling bedside table 
and pulled out the black leather purse.  She set it gingerly on her lap.
 
Having given birth less than 12 hours ago, I was surprised she wasn't 
asleep right now.  She pulled out a wallet and flipped it open to the 
picture section.  She carefully extracted a picture and held it out to
me.

I couldn't suppress the gasp that came out of me this time.  It was him.
 It 
was Mulder, smiling, with his arm around her shoulders, dressed in blue 
jeans and a blue tee shirt.  The errant lock of hair falling across his 
forehead made him look casual, wind tossed, and carefree.  It was a look

I had never seen on Mulder's face.  He was so serious all the time.  He 
rarely laughed and if he did it was usually in response to something 
ironic or sarcastic.  It was never the carefree laughter of a man who
was 
happy with his life.  I felt a stab of envy as I looked at the picture. 
"May I 
get a copy of this made?" I whispered.

She hesitated.  "Yes, if you promise to bring it back.  It's the only
picture 
of him I have.  Someday I'll want to show it to his son."

Son, that was a dreadful word.  Son.  It was the one thing that I
couldn't 
give Mulder, a child.  That always came up whenever I thought about 
advancing my relationship with Mulder.  Could he have deceived me like 
this?  Would he have hidden something like this to protect my feelings? 

Was it possible?  According to her story, he'd dated her for at least
three 
months.  Mulder hadn't taken a vacation in years.  It didn't make sense.
 
He might have had a case out there, but if it was only a year ago, where

was I?  Why wasn't I with him?  If he had been gone for over a month, I 
would have demanded to know where he was.  Did he own an apartment 
in San Diego that he'd never told me about?

This was all so confusing.  I wanted to believe him.  He looked so
sincere 
when he insisted that this child wasn't his.  I honestly didn't know
what to 
think.  I cleared my throat.  "Just a couple more questions and then
I'll 
leave you alone."

She nodded.  "We're getting to the personal ones now?"

I nodded.  "If you've been intimate then you would know what his naked 
body looks like."

She smiled.  This time it was wistful.  "Yes, I do," she said.

"Any distinguishing features?"

"He has a mole on his left cheek and a small brown birthmark the size of

a dime on his right hip."

I'd seen that birthmark on Mulder.  I was feeling a little light headed
and 
took a deep breath to steady myself before asking, "Anything else?"

She blushed and looked down.

"If it will help us to find out who is telling the truth, Jennifer, it
behooves 
you to tell me.  I know this isn't a comfortable thing, but we need to
get to 
the bottom of this."

"It's embarrassing," she said finally looking up at me.

"I know."

"No, I mean, what we did, it was embarrassing."

"What's that?"

"I was teasing him one night about how ... well endowed he was, and he 
laughed.  When I asked him how big he was, he said he'd never 
measured it.  I naturally didn't believe him.  I mean, every guy
measures 
their equipment, right?  So I teased him until he gave in.  I went and
got 
a tape measure and then excited him."

I swallowed, not wanting to know how she did that.  The thought of my 
mouth around Mulder's cock flashed through my mind and I nearly 
choked, clearing my throat loudly.  She obviously thought I was 
embarrassed by the conversation and smiled.  I waved a hand to indicate 
that she should go on.

"He definitely has a distinct feature there," she said quietly.

I finally found the courage to lift my eyes and look her in the face. 
She 
was blushing slightly but in control.  "How distinct?" I asked, 
embarrassed that it came out as a whisper.  I'd always wondered.

"He's eight inches long and he's," she paused.  "He's thick, over two 
inches wide."

I did choke then as I tried to swallow my saliva.  She was truly
grinning 
now as I licked my lips.  "Sorry," I croaked out.

She chuckled.  "Yeah, huh?"

When I composed myself, I asked, "Any other distinguishing features?"

"Like what?"

"Scars, tattoos, anything like that?" I suggested.

"No, nothing like that."

"No scars?"

"Not that I noticed anyway.  If he had any, they were small.  His body 
was as close to perfection as you could get.  In my opinion, anyway,"
she 
added.

"Would you allow us to do some blood and DNA testing to determine 
paternity?" I asked.

She was silent a moment and then said, "Yes, I have no doubts."

"Okay, I guess that's it for now.  Thank you for your cooperation," I
said 
as I stood up.  I held out my hand towards her bag, offering to put it
away 
for her before I left.

She nodded and handed it to me.  She said, "Will he come see me?"

I looked at her and hesitated.  "I don't know."

"Tell him I wish he would."

"When are you being released?"

"Tomorrow evening."

"Where will you go?"

"Back to the hotel, I guess.  I'm staying at the Marriott in downtown
D.C."

"I'll see if I can talk him into coming to see you."

She nodded, and said, "Thanks.  I'm tired now.  I think I'll rest."

"You do that."



PART 2 (R)
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
FRIDAY - 6:00 PM

It took me an hour to get home because I drove around for a while 
thinking.  Some things made sense and others didn't.  Something was 
definitely off here but I couldn't grab onto what it was.

I finally put my key in the lock to my door.  I knew he was there
already.  
I'd seen his car outside.  He was sitting on the couch.  His feet were
on 
the coffee table, and he'd taken his shoes off.  He had stripped off his

jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.  He was reclining

slightly, wearing his glasses and reading something.

He looked up when I entered and I was struck by how handsome he 
was.  I tore my gaze away and hung up my coat, pulling off my suit coat 
and draping it over the end of the sofa.  He patted the cushion next to 
him but I sat in the recliner across from him and flipped up the
footrest.

"Must be bad," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you won't sit next to me," he said, looking hurt.

I sighed.  "Just give me a minute, O.K.?"

He nodded.  "Want something to drink?" he asked.

I said, "I'll have some iced tea too," I responded blandly, eyeing his
glass 
on the coffee table.  He slid the computer print out onto the table and
got 
up, heading for the kitchen.

I watched him go.  His expression had been grim, and he wasn't walking 
right.  Then I realized what it was.  His shoulders were slumped as if 
carrying a great weight.  Mulder rarely slouched.  It was one of the 
attractive things about him.  Despite his height, he always stood up 
straight and tall.  I felt a bolt of sadness go through me.

He returned and handed me the glass, taking his seat on the couch 
again.  He put one arm on the armrest and the other over the back of the

couch and waited patiently for me to begin.

"She says she met you in a bookstore called Mystical Memories reading 
a book on alien abductions," I began.

He scrunched his brow.  "I've never heard of it," he immediately 
protested. 

I held up a hand to indicate that he should stop.  "Let me finish,
please."

He nodded and looked away.  "She gave me an address that this person 
said was where he lived.  She'd been there, and he said he was an 
architect."

Now Mulder really looked puzzled.  I could tell he wanted to say 
something, but was holding back.  I pulled out my pad and tore off the 
page with the address.  "Let's have the Gunmen run that address," I said

and I held it out.  

He stood up and took it from my outstretched hand and then sat back 
down staring oddly at it.  "What else?"

"She said you only dated for about three months and you had her in bed 
in two weeks."

He smiled but there was no amusement in his eyes.  "In my dreams."

I ignored that comment and said, "She went on to say how you 
disappeared, wouldn't return her phone calls, and took a leave of 
absence from work.  Finally, your employer gave her your emergency 
contact name."

"Who?" he asked, sitting up straighter, suddenly interested.

"Teena Mulder of Martha's Vineyard."  I said, watching his reaction 
carefully.

He gasped.  "It's impossible!"

"That's how she found you.  She went there and the neighbors told her 
your real name and that you worked in D.C. as an FBI agent.  She 
thought Teena was another woman, but quickly found out it was your late 
mother.  She said that didn't jive because he'd told her his mother's 
name was Brooke Winters and she was from San Diego.  She called the 
Bureau and the rest is history."

"Scully, it's impossible.  Of all the people I might put as an emergency

contact, my mother would be the last person."

"She gave me a picture, Mulder," I said quietly.

He just stared at me, suddenly gone still.  Finally he said, "May I see
it?"

I put the footrest down, and got up.  I picked up my jacket and reached 
into the pocket.  I carefully withdrew the picture and walked over to
him, 
looking down at him.  He held out his hand and I gave it to him.

He gasped loudly.  "Jesus!"

"That was my reaction, too.  If that's not you, Mulder, who is it?"

"I don't know!"

I shook my head.  "Come on, Mulder."

"It's not me, Scully!  I SWEAR!" he cried out.  "It's a set up.  I don't
know 
why, but it's a set up.  Can I have the guys check this for
authenticity?  I 
mean, maybe someone put my head on this body or something.

I couldn't believe he was even suggesting it, but he seemed truly 
agitated.  The question was if he was upset because he was looking at a 
clone of himself, or if he was upset because I was catching him in a
lie.  I 
wanted so much to believe him.  He had no idea just how much.  The 
evidence, while still very conflicting, was mounting against him though 
and I truly didn't know how I felt about it.  "It's possible, but I have
to 
make a copy and give this back to her.  That was the terms of her
letting 
me take it.  She said it's her only picture of her son's father."

He looked up me, clearly confused.  Either he was truly confused or he 
was a brilliant actor.  Although I knew Mulder could put on a good show,

he was right.  When I looked into his eyes, I always knew when he was 
lying.  "I don't understand this, Scully.  I don't know why someone
would 
do this to me.  What's the point?  To try and tie me down, thinking I'd 
accept this and leave the X-Files?  Leave you?  Then they don't know 
me very well."

He had a point.  This was a bizarre way to get to Mulder, if that was 
indeed what was happening.  Then again, I knew of his unspoken desire 
for a family and his despair at being the last Mulder.  If someone was 
framing him, WHO was trying to get to him?  I cleared my throat and 
returned to the recliner while he gently laid the picture on the table
as if it 
were going to blow up.  "Something's bugging me," I said suddenly.

"What?" he asked.  

"I don't know.  Give me a minute."  I laid my head back and closed my 
eyes.

I tried to replay our conversation but no matter how hard I tried, the 
vision of a thick, eight-inch penis kept coming across my mindscape and 
I couldn't think.  Distinct feature, indeed.  Damn it.  That was too
much 
information.  Was Mulder really that big?  Oh God, what would it feel 
like?  I shuddered and clamped down on that line of thought.  I wasn't 
going to get me anywhere.  How was I going to check?  Walk up to him 
and say, 'Gee Mulder, can I give you a blowjob, and then measure your 
dick?'  Yeah, right.  That would go over good.  Then again, maybe it 
wasn't such a bad idea.  No!  I had to put this out of my head.

"Scully?" he asked tentatively.

I opened my eyes, and it came to me.  "Wait a minute.  I asked her if
you 
had any distinguishing features."

"What did she say?"

"She said you had a dime size, brown birthmark on your right hip.  

He looked down, seeing all the puzzle pieces falling into place against 
him.  I could read it on his face and actually see his frustration.  "I
do 
have that, but it's my left hip," he said. 

"Maybe she meant her right.  I know about the birthmark, but when I 
asked her if you had any tattoos or scars, she said no, not that she 
noticed.  In fact, she said, 'His body was as close to perfection as you

could get' ... in her opinion," I muttered.
 
His head shot up and he looked at me.  He stood up abruptly and began 
unbuttoning his shirt.  

"Mulder, what are you doing?"

He finished unbuttoning it and ripped it off his back.  I nearly gasped
as 
his broad chest was revealed.  Holy shit, he'd been working out.  How
did 
I miss this?  His arms were bigger than I remembered, his biceps well 
defined and his pecs had definition that was new.  His abdomen was 
rippled, showing off six-pack abs.  I swallowed hard and forced myself
to 
drag my eyes away from his navel and upwards to his face.  

He flashed a quick smile but suppressed it and pointed to his shoulder. 

There it was.  The big, white, smooth patch of skin where I'd shot him 
was prominent on his shoulder.  It was no longer red and angry, but it 
was an obvious scar, the size of a quarter.  Slowly he turned and
pointed 
to his side, where another scar ran along his ribcage.  It was not as 
obvious as the bullet wound, but it was a good four inches long and
thin, 
but still clearly visible.  

He reached for his belt buckle and I held up a hand.  "I get the point, 
Mulder."

He did smile then.  "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

I bit down on a retort.  "No!" I said a little too quickly.

His smile widened.  "Are you sure?" he asked, sounding innocent.

"I get the point, Mulder.  You have obvious scars."

"There's one on my thigh.  You want to see how obvious it is."

"I know how obvious it is.  I've seen you naked," I blurted out.

He turned up the power on his smile and flashed me that toothy one that 
always made my stomach do an annoying little flip-flop.  "Not lately,"
he 
teased.

I snorted.  "Why are you so eager to disrobe in front of me?  Want to 
show off your new and improved body by Nautilus?" I asked.  Then I 
closed my eyes and sighed, realizing what I'd just said.  I'd admitted
that 
I had noticed.  He sat back down without putting his shirt back on and 
sprawled carelessly, his arms over the back of the couch, as if
displaying 
himself.

He was quiet for a few minutes and said, "I'm glad you noticed."

I opened my eyes and met his.  He was staring at me.  Even in this dim 
light I could see his eyes go black.  His breathing increased slightly, 
made more obvious by the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt to hide the

motion of his chest.  "What's the point?" I asked.

"The point is that YOU are the only one I want to notice changes in my 
body."

"What?" I asked, confused.

He licked his lips.  "I wasn't with that woman, Scully, no matter what
it 
looks like.  I haven't wanted another woman in YEARS."

"Another woman?" I squeaked.  "What do you mean?"

He raised his eyebrows as if to ask, 'You don't know?'  When he realized

I didn't, he said, "Come on, Scully."

"Come on, what?"

"Don't play dumb with me.  This isn't the time."

"I'm not playing dumb with you.  I have no idea what the hell you are 
talking about!" I nearly shouted.

He stood up and approached my chair.  I pushed the footrest down so 
that I could stand up, not wanting to get trapped there.  I wasn't quick

enough, though.  He arrived, put his hands on the armrest of the
recliner 
and boxed me in.  He leaned down, forcing me to slowly sit back against 
the cushion.  I leaned back until I was pressing my head into the back
of 
the chair and could go no further.  My hands gripped the arms of the 
chair in a death grip that turned my knuckles white.  His hands slid up 
over mine and I felt heat and electricity bolt up my arms and settle in
my 
chest.  

He kept coming closer and I gasped and said, "What are you doing?"

He was bending at the waist, nearly in half as he brought his face level

with mine.  His lips were an inch away and he licked them, drawing my 
gaze.  When I raised my eyes I found him staring at me again, his pupils

dilated.  So softly, I almost couldn't hear him, he said, "I haven't
wanted 
another woman in years.  You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I shook my head slightly.  "No, I," I began.

He smiled, interrupting me.  "Scully, let me lay it out for you."

"No, that's not necessary," I breathed out, feeling my body begin to 
betray me and react to him being so close.  His naked chest only inches 
away.  My fingers itched to touch him.

"Yes, I think it is.  I'll spell it out for you, if you insist on
playing dense 
about this."

"I'm not dense!" I bit out, instantly insulted and reacting to the fear
that 
was welling up inside me.

"No, normally you're not dense.  You're brilliant, you're compassionate,

and you're capable, reliable, and loyal."

My mouth dropped open hearing all these compliments.  

He paused a mere second or two and said, "You're also beautiful and 
incredibly sexy, no matter how hard you try to bury it under those
stark, 
Donna Karen suits.  I see you, Scully.  I see the woman inside that you 
try to hide.  She's beautiful to me, she always has been.  I haven't 
wanted another woman in years Scully because I've wanted YOU for 
YEARS."

I gasped.  "No!  That can't be.  You're just saying that to get out of
this, to 
make me believe the lie!" In desperation I reached up and put my hands 
on his bare shoulders, intending to push him away.  I might as well have

been pushing on a wall.

"No," he said, not moving.  Then he dropped his head and laid his mouth 
over mine.

I gasped again in surprise, not thinking he would take it this far. 
He'd 
never done this before, been this bold.  What the hell was going on?  
What was he trying to hide with this stunt?  Well, it wasn't going to
work 
on me!

He slid his tongue inside my mouth and moaned as our tongues touched 
and he pulled on my lips.  An unwanted moan crept out of my mouth and 
echoed into the cavern of his.  

Then again, maybe it would work.  I should have protested.  I should 
have pushed him away.  If I had, I know he would have stopped.  For 
some reason, I was frozen, unable to act.  Once his lips touched mine, I

couldn't think anymore.  It was frightening me.  

I wrenched my mouth away.  "Mulder, please don't do this."

"What?  Don't kiss you?  Don't love you?  Sorry, too late, Scully," he
said.  
He stepped to the side, slid his arms under my legs and around my back 
and scooped me right out of the chair as if I weighed nothing.

"Put me down!" I demanded, even as my arms reached up to grab onto 
his neck for support.  He didn't say a word, just kept walking, right
down 
the hall.

Into my bedroom.  Oh, Sweet Jesus!  What was happening here?  I had 
to stop this.  He sat me down on the bed and started working on the 
buttons of my blouse. 

I grabbed his hands and he stopped, for a second staring deep into my 
eyes, then brushed my hands away and finished unbuttoning my blouse.  
He peeled it back off my shoulders and pulled it out of my slacks.

I began to breathe heavily.  Why now?  I'd wanted him for so long.  I 
honestly didn't think that he thought of me that way.  I wasn't his
type.  
Jennifer Quist was his type.  She was tall, brunette, sporting DD cup 
breasts and long legs.

"Mulder, why?"

He stopped in the act of unzipping my slacks.  "I love you," he said 
simply.  "I'm sick of your doubt.  I'm sick of not telling you.  I need
for you 
to believe me about Jennifer.  I need you to believe that there is no
one 
else for me, Scully."

"I believe you!" I blurted.  

He knelt down and pulled my pumps off.  He shook his head and yanked 
my pants down and off my legs, tossing them to the side.  His hands slid

up my calf and hooked onto my knee high.  He rolled it down and pulled 
it off, repeating the procedure with the other one.  I was now in only
my 
cream bra and matching panties. 

He stared at me and pushed gently on my shoulder until I was lying 
down.  I watched as he took off his socks, and unbuckled his belt, then 
removed his pants.  He stood in nothing but boxer briefs, sporting a
huge 
tent from his impressive erection.  It looked massive and heavy as it 
strained against the cotton knit fabric.

It was then her words came back to me.  I gulped.  "Mulder, I don't want

to do this for the wrong reasons, to prove a point to me."

"I'm not.  I love you.  Is that the wrong reason?"

"No, but you just said you want to prove something to me!"

"Yes, I do.  That I love you."

His hand reached behind my back and lifted me slightly.  With a flick of

his wrist and fingers, he had my bra unhooked.  'Neat trick,' I thought.


He ripped it away and stared at my breasts before moving to hook his 
fingers into my panties.  "Lift," he said.

I did.  God help me, I did.  He slid them off and sucked in a breath as 
they fell down my legs and onto the floor from my dangling feet.  He
slid 
his hands up my calves and then up the inside of my upper thighs.  I 
gasped.  "Mulder, we should talk about this."

He shook his head again.  "No more talking.  I'm showing you now.  It's 
time.  I've fantasized about this for years.  I'm not waiting any more."

"Mulder, please, listen to me."

He nodded to indicate he was listening, but proceeded to push his briefs

down his legs and let them fall.  I gasped again as his cock sprung up 
and out.  Oh my God, he was huge.

Without thinking, I blurted out, "She said you were well endowed."

He smiled.  "Really?"

He stepped into me and used his hands to separate my knees.  He then 
hooked his arms under my armpits and slid me up the bed and so I was 
lying straight with my head on a pillow.  He climbed onto the bed on all

fours and straddled me.  He leaned back until he was kneeling, his ass 
on his heels, and began to stroke himself.

I fisted the comforter and said, "She even gave me measurements."

His eyebrows shot up then.  "How big am I?" he asked nonchalantly.

I swallowed.  "Eight inches long, over two wide," I blurted out.

He smiled.  "I never measured it," he said.

"That's what she said you told her, too," I said, hearing the tears in
my 
voice.  He stopped stroking himself and his face became serious.

"Somebody is impersonating me, Scully.  I don't know who it is.  We'll 
figure it out, tomorrow, though.  Tomorrow.  Tonight you're going to
find 
out just how much I love you."

No more words were spoken for long minutes as he kissed me 
everywhere, staring at my lips and moving down.  I found kissing Mulder 
to be one of most sensual experiences of my life to date.  When he 
accosted my breasts and suckled my nipples, I thought I was going to 
explode from the wash of heat that flooded my body.  I felt his hefty
cock, 
resting between my legs and my insides spasmed with want.


PART 3 (NC-17)
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, D.C. 

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

I knew without looking that I was leaking precum all over her as I slid 
down her body and rubbed my throbbing cock on her skin.  I felt the 
springy hairs of her mound and ground into her, smearing my precum all 
around and finally finding her clit and pressing against it, rocking
back 
and forth. 

She groaned and I suckled her breast again and slid one arm under her 
ass pulling her against me.

Her legs spread wider and I let go of her ass, sliding my hand around
her 
thigh.  I used my fingers to separate the slippery folds of her
juncture.  
She was leaking all over my fingers and I moaned, realizing that she was

just as excited as I was.  "So wet for me," I mumbled.  "God, I've 
imagined making you wet for me."

My cock found her entrance with no help from me and I rubbed it against 
her warm, wet lips, letting the head part them slightly.  I thought my 
knees would give out at the feel of her soft nether lips sliding around
my 
cock.

I pressed inside and we both moaned as we both felt her little body 
stretch to accommodate me.  She looked so small lying underneath me.  
I had been working out and my added bulk made our size difference 
even more prominent.  I leaned forward on my hands, my knees still on 
the bed, and looked down.  I had just the head and maybe an inch inside 
her.  My penis looked huge and I wondered if it could fit inside her 
without hurting her.

I sank slowly into her, feeling my eyes slide closed and then roll back
in 
my head.  I'd had some tight fucks in my past, but this was truly unreal

and amazing.  She was gasping for air.  Her hands came up to grip my 
shoulders and I felt the bite of her fingernails as she squeezed her 
fingers.  I slid forward a bit more.  I was only in about half way and I

leaned farther down, taking my weight on my elbows and letting my legs 
unfold from their kneeling position until I was sprawled on top of her.

I groaned and pushed in another inch deeper, feeling her velvet walls 
ripple around me.  We both froze and panted as I backed up a little and 
then, at her nod, slid into her to the hilt until I was finally fully
seated 
inside her, pressing into her cervix.  "Oh fuck, you fill me so full,"
she 
groaned.

I began stroking in and out of her slowly, watching her face closely.  I

dropped all my defenses and let her see me, really see me, making love 
to her.  

I tilted my hips, making sure to hit her little bundle of nerves.  She
met 
me thrust for thrust and began to toss her head on the pillow.  She was 
flushed and beautiful.  I wished I knew what was going on in her head.  
"Scully, look at me," I croaked out.

Her eyes jolted open and I gazed into their bottomless depths.  I saw 
love there, along with arousal.  I also saw a touch of fear and
uncertainty.  
That just wouldn't do.  I know I had said I was through talking, but 
perhaps she needed to hear me say things.

"Scully, I love you," I said softly.  I stroked slowly in and out
wanting it to 
last, feeling her tight walls grip me and shudder as I pressed against
her 
clitoris.  "Wanted this with you for so long, wanted to be inside you. 
I've 
dreamed about it."

She moaned and I stroked.

"I masturbated thinking about you touching me and had some of the 
hardest orgasms of my life," I whispered into her ear.

She moaned and I stroked.

"I'd imagine what it would feel like to be inside your tight body.  It's
better 
than I imagined, Scully.  It's exquisite, God, you feel so fucking
good."

She moaned and I stroked.  

"I'd go home, lay on my couch and imagine your sexy, pouting lips 
wrapped around my dick, sucking me dry."

She moaned and I stroked.

Without realizing it, I had sped up and was stroking steadily, pulling 
almost all the way out and sliding back in, pressing deep until I
crushed 
her mound between us.  She began to whimper and I encouraged her.  
"Yeah, baby.  Come on, come for me.  Let me feel it.  Dreamed of this 
too, of feeling you come on my cock.  Oh yeah, take it deep, Scully. 
Let 
go for me.  Always wanted to make you come.  Oh GOD!" I shouted, as 
she began to climax.  

I bit my lip to keep from coming, determined to make this good for her.

XXXXXXXXXX

Despite my misgivings, I'd never wanted another man the way I wanted 
Mulder.  Hearing him profess his love for me had shattered all my 
defenses.  He slid into me with a cruel lack of haste that drove me
nearly 
insane.  He was slowly but forcefully easing his enormous cock inside of

me.  The feeling was out of this world.  I felt every inch of his thick
shaft 
as it cleaved into me, stretching me as it went.  Finally after
readjusting 
so he was lying on top of me, he groaned and forced the rest of his 
gigantic erection up inside me with one burning rush.  I felt it press 
against the entrance to my womb with every thrust and my lips stretch 
around the thick base, which felt wide as a lamppost.  It felt like it
was up 
in my stomach.

He ground into me again, whispering into my ear.  It felt so good that I

couldn't even form a coherent thought.  He was repeatedly withdrawing 
his cock almost fully, only to bury it to the hilt in one, long thrust
that 
enabled me to feel the full length each time he pressed into me.  I felt
the 
premonitory twitches in my thighs.  He thrust harder and a little faster

and I felt my clit shudder and swell.  His balls slapped my ass.  My
pussy 
felt clogged and sticky with syrup of my own arousal.  He drove me crazy

whispering his fantasies into my ear.

My body shuddered from the impact of his cock and the pleasure it was 
bringing me.  I was pushed over the edge with an alarmingly short 
amount of time.  He let out a bass moan of pure ecstasy and I felt his 
cock twitch and spasm as he held it inside as I quivered around him.  He

didn't come though, and for that I was equally grateful and amazed.  I 
didn't want this to end yet.

Every hard, steady thrust sent a minor explosion through my abdomen 
and threatened to make me come again as the shock waves of arousal 
rippled through me.  Oh, God save me, the man could FUCK.  I'd never 
felt passion like this and when he told me to look at him, I'd seen all
his 
love and respect and awe reflected in his face.  

I felt tiny lying under his large, muscular body.  His hips had my legs 
spread very wide and I curled them over onto his back, trying to meet
his 
thrusts.  My cunt was stretched deliciously over this thick shaft and
the 
sensations occasionally bordered on pain but never hurt.  

He was whispering again, "Yeah, so fucking tight.  So snug in here, 
Scully.  Feels so good, like your sucking on my cock."

A few more strokes and I convulsed and came again, feeling the big 
flared head of his cock scrape my tight walls and then bump into my 
tender cervix.  My hips left the bed and I shrieked.  One of his hands 
found my nipple as I was coming down and pinched lightly, twirling it
with 
just the right amount of pressure and I was off again, feeling my walls 
collapse around his monstrous cock.

I squirmed and adjusted so I could look between us and watch him flow 
in and out of my body, coated liberally with my own juices.  My body was

on fire as he fucked me relentlessly.  He had sped up some but was still

thrusting steadily and deeply into to me until he'd buried every mouth-
watering inch.  I put my hand on my stomach and swore I could feel it 
ripping into me and bulging out the wall of my flat abdomen.

"Love you.  I'm finally making love to you.  Can't believe it.  You're
mine 
now.  I'm gonna make love to you every chance I get."

Making love.  Not fucking.  Making love.  My eyes found his again and I 
saw the truth of his words.  He loved me.  How could I have doubted 
him?  I let my feelings show in my eyes.  I tried to telegraph to him
how 
much I loved him, even though finding the ability to speak at this
moment 
was more than I could accomplish. I felt the head of his cock swelling
to 
the point where it was pushing hard against my womb's entrance as he 
held it still inside me.  "Hold still," he ground out.

I realized he was trying not to come and obliged him.  I didn't know how

much more I could take, but I knew I wanted to take whatever he could 
dish out.  My hands were trembling as they ran over the corded muscles 
of his back.  I watched his stomach muscles ripple with the effort of 
holding back. 

Finally he relaxed with an explosion of breath and pulled his legs a
little 
higher on the bed for leverage.  He wasn't kneeling as before but his 
knees were pressing into the mattress, and his ass was raised high, just

the head of his cock teasing the lips of my vagina.

I knew I had the soft glow of one that has been well and truly fucked.  
The aftershocks of my third orgasm were still snaking through me.  

"Even when I take you hard, I'm loving you, Scully," he growled.  "

"Oh Christ," I whimpered.

"You want it hard, baby?  Huh?  You want me to fuck your brains out?  
I've fantasized about that too, not just making tender love to you. 
I've 
dreamed about both.  You want it hard and fast, baby?"

"Ye, yea, yesss!" I stuttered.  How in the hell could he know everything

that I liked and needed to find complete satisfaction?

Then he really started nailing me to the mattress, pressing deep, 
thrusting so hard he would practically bounce back out.  I screamed as 
wave after wave of pleasure hit me.  He was entering me from above, 
the angle making my clit ride the top of his cock with every stroke.  It
was 
already over sensitive from my recent climax and the feeling bordered on

pain but also thrust me into a higher level of arousal than I had ever 
experienced.  I felt like I was floating.

I began to climax and shouted wordlessly.  I knew I wasn't actually 
saying anything.  That would presume that I had any higher brain 
function available to me right now.  All I could do was feel.  I
couldn't 
breathe enough to articulate anything as my whole body surrendered to 
the feelings he was digging out of me as his cock burrowed into my 
bruised pussy.  I began to feel one sharp, quick, climax after another 
rocket through me every four or five strokes and I gasped and groaned 
unable to do anything else.  I nearly passed out from the intensity of
the 
orgasms, feeling my vision dim and my head spin.

"Oh yeah, feels so good to pound you.  Oh yeah, come again, and again.  
Come for me!  YEAH, OH, take it, take it, TAKE IT!"

I, Dana Scully, had totally surrendered to his passion.  I knew I would
be 
a slave to his monstrous cock from this day forward and I didn't care. 
If I 
could feel this way on a regular basis, I would give him anything.  He 
already had my heart, and was working on my soul.  He stroked and 
pounded brutally until I was shaking with exhaustion from my back-to-
back orgasms.  He shouted, "OH, MY BALLS ACHE!  Oh they're so 
heavy.  Gonna fill you up, baby!  Oh yeah, here it comes."

I knew he couldn't last much longer.  The loose sack that had slapped 
my ass before was now drawn up tight and felt hard as it smacked into 
me with every deep stroke.  I was so liquid now I felt like a dishrag. 
I 
thought I could hear a popping sound every time his thick shaft plunged 
into me and smacked into my cervix.  Sweat poured down his neck and 
back in rivulets.  His face was a grimace of ecstasy and he grunted hard

with every impact, staring at my breasts as they bounced back and forth 
with every hammering stroke. 

He was tearing me apart, but in such a good way.  What a way to end a 
long, dry spell.  He came with a thundering crash, screaming out in 
pleasure.  "Oh Jesus, Scully.  Oh fuck me, God, yes!  Finally!  I'm
filling 
your little body so full!  

I exploded in one long, hard, convulsing orgasm as he released his 
essence into me.  My legs felt locked around him and my back was 
arching as bursts of sunlight exploded behind my eyelids.  Every nerve 
ending was on fire.  I had a loud, vibrating noise in my head.  We were 
both gasping for air.  He keep stroking as he emptied into me, seeming 
to get bigger and stiffer with every stroke.  He exploded like a cannon 
and then went limp on top of me, his nose buried in the crook of my 
neck.

XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

We lay there for a long while, panting and sweating on each other before

we could catch our breath.  He finally raised his head and came back up 
on his elbows, relieving me of the weight of his torso.  Cold air rushed

between us and I mourned the loss of his heat.  He kissed me so 
tenderly I felt tears sting the backs of my eyelids.

"I love you so much, Scully," he murmured against my lips, kissing me 
again.  "That was amazing."

"I've never felt anything like that before," I whispered.  

"Is that a good thing?" he asked.

I smiled.  "Yeah, that's a very good thing."

"You gonna want to feel it again?" he asked tentatively.

I met his gaze and realized he was still riddled with doubts.  I hadn't 
returned his sentiments.  "Yes, Mulder, I'm going to want to feel it
again."

He smiled tremulously.  "I would never lie to you, Scully.  I admit
there 
have been times when I simply didn't tell you something, but I've never 
lied to you.  I'm not lying to you now."

I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair and he lowered his cheek, 
nestling in between my breasts.  "I know."

"Do you?" he mumbled against me, placing a soft kiss on the side of my 
breast.  

"Yes.  I believe you, and Mulder," I added.

"Yeah?" he asked softly.

I took a deep breath.  "I love you too, Mulder."

His head shot up and he gazed into my eyes again.  He didn't hold back 
his tears and so I finally let mine go.  He smiled through his tears and

kissed me again, deeper this time, but without passion.  This was a kiss

of affirmation and promise.

We finally came up for air and he slid off me.  "Want to shower?" I
asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Together?" I asked saucily.

He grinned.  "Just try to keep me out," he chuckled.

I laughed as we slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

XXXXXXXXXX
THE LONE GUNMEN LAIR
ARLINGTON, VA
SATURDAY - 11:00 AM

The next day we got a break.  Scully and I stood in front of a bank of 
computers with Frohike, Langley and Byers. Langley punched some 
buttons and information came up on the screen.

NAME:  JACKSON WINTERS
NICKNAMES:  JAY, JAKE
SOCIAL SECURITY NO.:  547-78-3291
FATHER:  CAMERON EDWARD WINTERS
MOTHER:  BROOKE TAYLOR WINTERS
ADDRESS: Carmel Terrace; 11540 Windcrest Lane, San Diego, CA 
92128, Apartment 2-D.
AGE:  40
DOB:  October 13, 1961 
Birthplace:  San Diego, CA
HAIR:  DARK BROWN
EYES:  HAZEL
HEIGHT:  6'
DRIVER'S LICENSE:  Issued 1976, San Diego. CA
OCCUPATION:  Architect
EMPLOYER:  Sistern & Howell
ANNUAL INCOME:  $150,000 Annually
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:  Small, tan birthmark on right hip.  Mole 
on left cheek.  Left-handed.
MARITAL STATUS:  Single, never married.
EDUCATION:  Bachelor's degree in structural engineering from Yale 
University, PhD from Princeton in Architecture.

I commented, "Well, he makes more money than I do.  That's for sure."

That brought a chuckle from everyone.  Langley looked at us and then 
back and the keyboard.  "That's not all.  Here's the shocker."

He punched another button and his picture came up on the screen above 
a picture of his fingerprints.  I just shook my head as Scully gasped.  
"That's creepy," she said.

Langley held up a finger to indicate he wasn't finished and his hands
flew 
over the keyboard again.  "Now for the best part," he chuckled.

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until the next picture flashed
on 
the screen and it exploded out of me in a rush.  It was an adoption
record 
from the State of California, dated 1961.  "What the fuck?" I asked.

Langley turned and leaned his ass on the edge of the table.  "Looks like

somebody adopted a baby in 1961.  Funny thing, he grew up to look just 
like you."

"Do you have any more on him?" Scully asked.

Langley nodded and turned back to the computer.  He began printing out 
page after page.  He turned back to us and pointed at the printer. 
"You'll 
find grammar school, high school and college records in there, along
with 
yearbook photos and yearly income statements since 1982.  Whoever 
this guy is, he hasn't been hiding," Langley concluded.

"This doesn't make any sense."

Scully turned to me.  "Mulder, is it at all possible that your mother
had 
twins?  That you have a twin out there?"

I swallowed.  "It's looking that way, but I can't believe it.  I think
I'd believe 
it was a morphed alien bounty hunter before I'd believe I've gone my 
whole life with a twin and never knew about it."

Frohike snorted.  "Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked testily.

He held up his hands in surrender.  "Just saying, you like the alien
angle 
is all."

Byers gave him a disgusted look and said, "Can it, Frohike."

Frohike saluted him but remained quiet.  The printer ground to a halt
and 
Langley picked up a stack of paper about a half inch thick and handed it

to us.  "It's all there."

Scully asked, "Do you know where he is now?"

Byers shook his head.  "We're working on that.  Apparently, since he
left 
his architecture firm, no one in his immediate circle has seen him."

I cleared my throat.  "I think we need to go to California and talk to
some 
of these friends and neighbors.  Find out if he hinted to anyone about 
where he was going."

Scully placed her hand gently on my forearm.  I was chagrined to realize

my hands were shaking where they clutched the pile of paper.  She 
gently pried them out of my hand and looked up into my face.  "I think
we 
need to go see Jennifer."

I scowled.  "I don't want to."

"I know, but I think we have to.  We may still have to go to California,
but 
she's right here in D.C. and she's being released from the hospital 
today."

I nodded, frowning, knowing there was no avoiding it.  I was going to 
have to face my accuser and I knew it wasn't going to be pleasant.  I
felt 
sorry for her.  Someone had obviously impregnated her and then ran off 
and left her.  While I dreamed of one day having kids, preferably with 
Scully, I knew without a doubt that this one wasn't mine.  Before 
yesterday, I had never met the woman.

"Hold on," Langley said.  He turned and began printing out another file.
 
A minute went by as his laser printer spewed out pages.  It finally 
stopped and he handed it to me.

"What's this?"

"Your records.  Compare and contrast."

I nodded my thanks.  Scully managed to say, "Thanks guys.  We 
appreciate it."

"No problem," Byers answered. "We'll find him.  Don't worry."

Scully nodded at him and then followed me out the door.  Next stop, 
Georgetown Memorial Hospital.

I slid into the passenger seat of the car.  Scully raised an eyebrow but

didn't question this uncharacteristic move from me.  She got in on the 
drivers side and adjusted the bucket seat to accommodate her tiny frame 
and started the car.  As she fastened her seatbelt, she said, "Do you 
want to go now, or would you like to go home for a bit first.  I know
this is 
a shock."

I looked at her.  "No, I don't want to go home, but I need a few minutes
to 
prepare myself."

XXXXXXXXXX
GEORGETOWN BAR & GRILL
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
SATURDAY - 11:30 AM

We decided to have lunch first and went to the Georgetown Bar & Grill.  
He ordered a burger and fries with a side of onion rings, a heart attack

on a plate.  I ordered a tuna melt and small garden salad.

We ate silently for a while and then I said, "I believe you, Mulder."

He looked up, chewing slowly.  After swallowing, he said, "Did you
really 
believe me last night, or just now when you saw all that information on 
Jackson Winters?"

I looked at my plate and back up at him.  "I believed you last night, I 
really did, Mulder."  He nodded and resumed consuming his hamburger 
in huge bites.  "You gonna chew that or just inhale it?"

He smiled finally and chewed more slowly.  "We have to find him,
Scully."

"I know."

"I'm having horrible thoughts, Scully."

"Like what?"

"Remember me telling you I saw clones of Samantha on that bee farm 
up in Canada?"

"I remember," I replied.

"What if he's a clone?" he asked quietly.

I didn't have any answer for him.



PART 4 (PG-13)
GEORGETOWN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
ROOM 306
SATURDAY - 1:00 PM

I watched Mulder carefully as we entered the hospital room.  He gave the

woman a blank look and showed no signs of recognition.  She, on the 
other hand, looked devastated by the look he was throwing her way.  I 
pulled two chairs over to the bed and Mulder said, "I'll stand, thanks."

I frowned at him but didn't argue.  "Jennifer Quist, this is my partner,
Fox 
Mulder."

Mulder held out his hand and shook hers.  She clamped on and didn't let 
go when he would have.  "Jay, why are you doing this to me?"

He yanked his hand away.  "I'm sorry, Ms. Quist, but I'm not who you 
think I am.  We do, however, think we may have figured it out."

She scrunched her brow.  The baby was in a bassinet next to the bed.  
She slid out of bed and went and picked up the child and slowly walked 
over to Mulder, obviously offering the child to him.

He looked down at her but shook his head.  She began to cry and sat 
back down on the bed, cradling the child and putting her cheek to his 
forehead.  "Jennifer, we'd like to show you some information."

She nodded and sniffled, stood and put the baby back in the bassinet.  
She returned to face us, sitting again on the edge of the bed.  I handed

her two folders we'd picked up at the stationary store on the way over. 

One contained information on Jake Winters, the other on Fox Mulder.

She took them silently and opened it.  She had Mulder's first.  "What's 
this supposed to prove?  That you lied to me about who you were and 
what you did for a living and who your parents were?  Where you went to 
school?  I've figured that out already."

Gently, I said, "Look at the other one."

She looked at me, then at Mulder and finally put Mulder's file aside. 
She 
picked up the other one, opened it and read silently.  I saw her eyes 
widen a couple of times.  Finally, she put it down.  She hadn't even
gone 
through everything in both files, but saw enough to know that they were 
the complete records of two different men.  "What are you trying to tell

me?" she asked finally.

"We think Agent Mulder and Jay Winters may be twins," I answered 
gently.

She looked startled and stared at Mulder for a few seconds.  "What?  
You're kidding?"

I shrugged.  "We're trying to find Jackson Winters, but we haven't had 
any luck yet.  We found adoption papers on Mr. Winters from 1961, the 
year Mulder was born.  Agent Mulder knows that he grew up on Martha's 
Vineyard.  Jackson Winters obviously didn't.  He has an entire history
in 
California with different parents."

"Why'd he put Teena Mulder down as an emergency contact?" she 
asked.

Mulder spoke finally.  "That's the big question.  He obviously knew
about 
my parents.  Maybe he even knew about me.  I, on the other hand, knew 
nothing about him, including the fact that he even existed."

She looked shocked for a minute or so and then said, "This has got to be

pretty upsetting for you then."

Mulder nodded.  "I'd like to show you something," he said, as he 
removed his trench coat and then his suit jacket.  He loosened his tie
till 
it was dangling on his neck and unbuttoned his shirt.  "What are you 
doing?" she cried out.

He smiled.  "Just a sec, don't panic."  She swallowed hard, as Mulder
slid 
his shirt to the side, not taking it off, but baring his shoulder.  He
pointed 
to his scar.  "See that?" 

She nodded.  

"Did Mr. Winters have that scar?"

She shook her head in the negative as she said, "No."

He pointed to the one on his ribs, pulling the shirttail back further. 
"Did 
he have this one?"

She shook her head as I saw belief finally dawn on her face.  "I can't 
believe this."

"It's hard for me to believe too."  He buttoned his shirt and tucked it
back 
in, not bothering to put his jacket back on.  "I'm an FBI agent, have
been 
for the last twelve years.  I've been injured more times than I care to 
count and believe me; I have a lot of scars.  Scully told me that you
said 
Jay Winters didn't have any."

"No, not that I saw.  His body was flawless and now that I think of it,
he 
was a lot tanner than you are."

"I have a mole and a birthmark you mentioned but they are on my right 
cheek and my left hip.  You said his were the opposite."  He extracted 
the picture out his inner trench coat pocket and handed it to her.  "We 
decided we didn't need it."

She took it from him and brushed her thumb lightly over the face of the 
man in the photo.  "I love him," she said softly.

Then she began to cry.  I moved the files out of the way and sat down 
next to her.  I gently coaxed her to me and she fell sideways, her head 
on my shoulder and she cried, staring at the photo.  I looked up at 
Mulder and he was frowning, obviously affected by the woman's grief.

"There's something else," he said.

She leaned up and out of my embrace, reaching for the box of tissues on 
the nightstand and drew them to her.  She blew her nose and tossed the 
tissue in the wastebasket.  "What?" she said at last.

"Did you ever see Jay write anything?"

I furrowed my brow, wondering what he was going to do. 

"Yes," she replied.  "So what?"  

He took a pen out of his jacket inside pocket and walked to the bed.  He

leaned over one of the folders there, flipped the cover open and glanced

briefly at the contents.  On the outside he wrote, 'Fox Mulder'.  He
looked 
in the other one and then shut the cover and wrote, 'Jackson Winters'.

She stared at him.  "Oh my God," she gasped.

"What?" I asked.

She turned to me.  "Jay is left handed."

"I can't believe I missed that," I said.

"I didn't," Mulder said simply.  "It seems that the scars are the only
real 
difference between us.  My mole is on my right cheek and my birthmark 
is on my left hip, not the right.  I'm right handed, he's left handed. 
In 
every other way, Jackson Winters is my mirror image.

"You do look exactly like him, and I mean, EXACTLY like him.  Even your 
body," she breathed out.  "It's downright spooky."

We both chuckled at that, deciding with a look not to enlighten her on 
why we thought it was funny.

I picked up the files and stacked them together and stood up.  "I'm
sorry, 
Jennifer."

She nodded.  "I'll be staying at the Marriott for a week or so until I
feel up 
to taking a flight back to California."

"Hopefully, we'll find him by then.  Believe me, I have as many
questions 
as you do," Mulder said.

She hauled her purse onto the bed from where it sat on the floor, 
extracted a business card and handed it to Mulder.  She was a real 
estate broker.  If Jake was really an architect, that would give them 
something else in common.  "That's got my cell phone number on it.  
Please call me if you find him."

Mulder nodded and slipped it into his shirt pocket.  He picked up his 
jacket and trench coat and slung them both over his arm.  We exited and 
then Mulder stuck his head back into the room.  "We'll find him," he
said.

I took his free hand as we walked to the elevator.  "You all right?" I 
asked.

"I don't know.  I've spent my whole damn life looking for my sister.  I 
finally find her and accept that she's dead.  Now, I find out I might
have a 
brother running around somewhere out there.  I can't quite grasp it all 
yet, but I might not be the last Mulder, Scully.  Do you know what that 
means to me?"

"I think I do," I said softly as I smiled up at him.

He frowned.  "Let's just hope when we find him, he's in better shape
than 
Samantha," he whispered.

I didn't have anything to say to that either.  Not that he expected me
to.

XXXXXXXXXX
LAMBERT'S COVE COUNTRY INN
R.R. #1
VINEYARD HAVEN, MA
ROOM 103
MONDAY - 1:00 PM

My name is Jake Winters, but everyone here seemed to think I am Fox 
Mulder.  Fox.  What kind of name was that?  In any event, if I'd had any

doubt that we were identical, it vanished on my first day here.  My 
mother, Brooke Taylor Winters, is dead.  My father, Cameron Edward 
Winters, died two years ago of a heart attack.  After that my mother
just 
went downhill.  Forty-two years of marriage.  I think she died of a
broken 
heart.

Now, I'm the one dying of a broken heart.  

I'd found out nothing when my father died.  Almost everything was left
to 
my mother.  He'd left me a trust fund along with some personal effects. 

Now both my parents were gone, and I'd had to see Attorney Julianne 
Wiseman to finalize the estate.  She'd read my mother's Last Will & 
Testament to me.  She'd left me everything, including a bungalow on the 
beach, and their house in San Diego.  I am going to give up my 
apartment and move into the house when I went back.  What the hell?  I 
feel no guilt about accepting the inheritance.  They kept this secret
from 
me for forty damn years.  Didn't even tell me when I turned 18.  Why?

My parents had left a letter for me.  Attorney Wiseman said her 
instructions were that she was only to give it to me upon the demise of 
both my parents.  I'd taken it and decided to wait until I got home to
read 
it.  I figured it was some flowery sentimental good bye from my mother 
and didn't want to get emotional in front of the attorney.

I was wrong.  Really, really wrong.  My parents had always given me 
everything I could've ever wanted materially, but they were a little shy
on 
the love and affection.  Socialites to the last, they'd treated me as a
prize 
possession to be trotted out at cocktail parties in order to instigate 
bragging rights.  I knew I was smart.  I had a 180 IQ.  Of course, in
order 
to keep my ego in check, my father was always quick to point out that IQ

tests only tested your ability to take IQ tests.  Guess he didn't want
me 
getting too big for my britches.

All this time, I'd had a brother and had never known it.  I wondered if
he 
knew about me.  I wondered why I'd been given up.  Why did they 
choose to keep one twin and give the other away?  It didn't make sense 
to me.  What flaw did I have that the other one didn't?  The burning
need 
to know had made me take a leave of absence and come all the way 
across the country to seek out Teena and Bill Mulder, my biological 
parents.  It was all there in the letter lying on my lap.  I stroked out
the 
creases again and noticed how tattered and limp it was getting from my 
constant perusal.  It represented the biggest betrayal of all in a long
line 
of betrayals.  Was there no one I could trust?
 
I got here and found the house.  I didn't find them though, only a 
housekeeper, who greeted me like a long, lost prodigal son and called 
me Fox.  I didn't correct her.  She immediately began giving me 
condolences on the passing of my parents, but particularly, on my 
mother's death a couple of years ago.  Two years.  I was two years too 
late to meet my 'mother'.  My 'father' had died in 1995.    What would 
have happened if I'd known before?

Now, I was still here with no answers.  The housekeeper, Jodi, had given

me a set of keys after I feigned embarrassment over losing mine.  I 
could've stayed in that house if I wanted, but somehow I couldn't bring 
myself to do it.  Instead, I went there every day for the last week and
dug 
through the treasures in the attic, unearthing mementos of a life I
hadn't 
shared.  It was all rather depressing.

I'd seen Jennifer here last week.  I'd been afraid she would care enough

to come looking for me.  I had told the housekeeper that I didn't want 
anyone to know I was here for a visit, that I needed some peace and 
quiet away from the city.  True to her word, Jodi had not given me away 
and for that I was grateful.  I'd almost run right into her though.  I'd
pulled 
into the driveway of the house and saw her getting into a rental car,
huge 
and pregnant.  I'd gasped, knowing immediately that it was mine.  I
would 
have to find her and talk to her, but I simply couldn't deal with it
yet.  I'd 
been here for over a month.  It was time to make a decision.

After much contemplation, I decided I was going to Washington, D.C. to 
find Fox Mulder and confront him.  If he'd known about me, why hadn't 
he ever contacted me?  Didn't he care?  All these questions and more 
circled my brain in an endless loop.  He was an FBI agent of all things.
 
God help me.  He was probably some arrogant prick with a stick up his 
ass.  From what I'd heard, G-men always thought they were better than 
everyone else.  The arrogant prick trait seemed to be a prerequisite for

the job.  Not that I knew that many FBI agents, none in fact, but all
those 
rumors couldn't be wrong.

I was startled by the sudden, sharp, rap on the door and jerked my head 
towards the sound.  Who the hell would be coming here?  Who had 
found me?  God, please don't let it be Jennifer.  I couldn't deal with
that 
right now.  I got up slowly and called through the door, "Who's there?"

A gentle female voice said, "Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Mulder.  I'm the 
night manager.  I have an urgent message here for you."

Didn't they usually leave a message on the phone?  'Well, she said it
was 
urgent,' I thought to myself.  I crossed to the door, and opened it to
find a 
well-tailored brunette standing there.  She was tall, easily five feet
nine, 
and with her heels, she was an even six feet, staring me right in the
eye.  
She smiled, one hand on her hip, the other held behind her back.  She 
looked very professional.  "You have a message?"

"Yes, may I come in?" she asked politely.

Why she just couldn't hand it to me, I didn't know.  I backed up and 
waved her in, opening the door wide.  Years of good manners driven into 
me by my parents took over.

Before I could say 'boo', she slammed the door, spun around behind me, 
and grabbed both my arms, bending them up behind my back.  One leg 
wrapped around the front of my leg and tripped me, smashing my face 
into the wall.  "What the fuck!" I screamed.

"Who are you?" she growled in my ear.

XXXXXXXXXX
HOOVER BUILDING
WASHINGTON, D.C.
X-FILES BASEMENT OFFICE
MONDAY - 2:00 PM

I watched Scully hang up the phone and sigh.  "No luck.  Byers said he 
took a leave of absence from his job over a month ago.  He called but no

one there has seen or heard from him since."

"Shit.  Where could he have gone?"

"I don't know.  It bothers me that no one's seen him."

"Do you think THEY took him?" I asked hesitantly.

She stared at me for a few seconds.  "I don't know Mulder.  If he was 
going to be taken, I think it would have happened long before now.  You 
can't tell me they didn't know he existed."

"You're right, but the same thing is bothering me.  Unless he is a
clone, 
some sort of back up should anything have happened to me.  That's a 
scary thought.  I don't know the man, but if he's anything like me, he 
would never run out on a pregnant girlfriend."

She smiled at me.  "I know," she said softly.  I could see a flash of
guilt 
cross her face.  She was remembering that a few short days ago, she'd 
basically accused me of that very thing, walking away from a pregnant 
woman.

I stood up and went to her, embracing her gently.  "Stop it."

"Stop what?" 

I clucked my tongue.  "Stop feeling guilty.  You had every right to 
question me.  That's even more obvious now that we know what we 
know."

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Mulder," she said quietly.
 
The phone rang again and she pulled away reluctantly to answer it.  
"Scully."  She listened for a bit and scribbled on her note pad.  She
said, 
"Thanks, Frohike, we'll check that out."  She hung up and looked at me. 

"Get your coat, we're going to Baltimore."

"Why?"

"Frohike found the doctor listed on your birth certificate."

"Wasn't he from Massachusetts?"

"'WAS' is the key word.  He retired in Baltimore.  Isn't that convenient
for 
us?"

"Close to D.C?  That will make Accounting happy," I quipped.

"You bet.  We're going to visit Dr. Charles Sumner."  She ripped the 
sheet off the pad and waved it in the air.  "I have his address right
here."

"Let's go, G-woman," I replied, and followed her out the door.

XXXXXXXXXX
LAMBERT'S COVE COUNTRY INN
R.R. #1
VINEYARD HAVEN, MA
ROOM 103
MONDAY - 3:30 PM

I'd been watching him for days.  I'd wondered what he was doing here 
now.  Then it occurred to me, as I watched him looking angry and 
confused, that it might not be him.  I'd called my contact in
Washington.

Sure enough, this man was an imposter.  Fox Mulder was safe and 
sound in Washington D.C. with his beloved partner, Dana Scully.  So 
who the fuck was this guy?  Was it a bounty hunter masquerading as 
Fox Mulder?  I had to find out, but that was going to be a tricky piece
of 
business.  If he was a Bounty Hunter, this could very well be my last
day 
on earth.  Everything was on the line the minute I walked into that
room.

I cuffed him just for show, knowing that if he were really a shape
shifter, 
he could bust out of the cuffs if he wanted to.  I held one leg between
his, 
keeping him bent over, his face to the wall so he was off balance.

So far, though, he was keeping up the fa=E7ade.  If he was an alien, he 
could have tossed my sorry ass across the room just by pushing and 
standing up straight.  He hadn't done that, but that didn't mean he 
wouldn't.  He could be cooperating with me until he got the information 
he wanted about my mission here before morphing into his normal 
hulking self.  He could do that any second.

Holding the cuffs with my left hand, I reached into the pocket of my
suit 
jacket and pulled out a mini rebreather mask.  I put it over my nose and

mouth, adjusting the elastic strap on the back of my head with one hand.
 

"What the fuck is going on here?  Who the fuck are you?" he roared. 

Oh, this one was good, not breaking his cover.  I leaned into him hard 
and he grunted.  I put my lips to his ear.  "I have to test something. 
If 
you're not who I think you are, then I'm sorry."

"Sorry?  For what?" he asked.

XXXXXXXXXX

I heard a vague hiss behind me and then felt a jabbing pain in the back 
of my arm.  Had she injected me with something?

A burning sensation raced up my arm to my shoulder.  I cried out in pain

as she backed away from me, releasing her hold.  Without her arm as a 
counter balance I twisted to see her and fell onto my side, landing hard

on my cuffed wrists.  I cried out again as the pain intensified from the
fall.  
She stood there looking down at me with a weird mask of some kind on 
her face.  She was so puzzled that her expression was almost comical.  
"Look, I don't who the fuck you are lady, but if I'm not under arrest
for 
something, I think its time you un-cuff me and start answering some 
questions."

She looked contrite for about two seconds and then a blank expression 
slipped down over her face again.  She walked back over to me, ripping 
off the small mask and shoving it into her pocket.  She helped me sit up

and removed the cuffs.  I stood gingerly and tried to look at the back
of 
my arm.  She led me to the bathroom where I looked over my shoulder 
into the mirror.  Blood was pouring down the back of my arm.  She wet a 
washcloth with cold water and cleaned me up.  She pulled the first aid
kit 
from the shelf over the toilet.  She applied some antibiotic cream and
put 
a large square band-aid over the small puncture wound that had bled so 
profusely.  Then, without a word, she marched back into the room and 
sat on the side of the bed.  I followed her and sat in the chair, alert
and 
staring, waiting for her next move.  "I'm sorry, I had to be sure," she
said.

"Sure of what?"

"That you weren't a bounty hunter."

"Stabbing me somehow tells you whether or not I'm a skip tracer?  What 
the fuck, lady?"  I was really getting angry now.

She furrowed her brow and said, "No, not that kind of bounty hunter."

"I didn't know there was more than one kind," I spat.

She hesitated and then said, "I thought you were an alien bounty hunter.
 
They can shape shift and become anyone they want to be."

My mouth dropped open and I stared at her incredulously.  "Lady, you're 
whacked.  Get out of my fucking room!"


PART 5 (PG)
LAMBERT'S COVE COUNTRY INN
R.R. #1
VINEYARD HAVEN, MA
ROOM 103
MONDAY - 4:30 PM

She sighed and reached to the inside pocket of her blazer.  I flinched
and 
she smirked.  "Just getting my I.D.," she informed me.  She pulled out a

leather bi-folded case and flipped it open, handing it to me.

I took it gingerly and stared at her picture.  The badge read:  

Shona MacIntyre
Office of Strategic Services
Central Intelligence Agency
United States of America.

Holy shit, she was CIA.  "Aren't special operations like Delta Force, 
Green Berets, Navy Seals, that sort of thing?"  I handed the badge back 
to her.  It looked genuine, but not knowing what they really looked
like, I 
had no real way to know.

"Those are Special Operations, yes.  I'm in Strategic Services, which is

under the same command, but a different department."

"What do you deal in?" I asked.

"Covert intelligence," she said without hesitation.

"Undercover?"

"Most of the time," she said casually.

"So you're a spy," I said bluntly.

She smiled.  "I have been when the occasion warranted."

"Why are you here?" I asked again, coming straight to the point.

"One of my assignments is to protect other federal officers."

"Oh God," I said.

"One of the officers under my protection is Fox Mulder."

"I'm ..." I automatically began.

"NOT Fox Mulder," she said calmly but with venom.

I swallowed harshly.  "No, I'm not," I admitted.

"Then who are you?" she asked again.

I decided lying to the CIA was not such a good idea.  Something told me 
she was the genuine article.  You're average woman didn't have hand to 
hand combat training that could take down a man of my size in a matter 
of seconds.  "I'm Jackson Winters.  My friend's call me Jake."

"Jake.  Is that the name they gave you?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You're a clone, right?  A backup in case something ever happened to 
Fox Mulder.  Like the Kurts, but another model."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She stared at me, I figured, trying to determine the truth of my
statement.  
"My God, they never told you, did they?"

"Told me what?"

She sighed and said, "If you know who Fox Mulder is, and I assume you 
do since your parading around the Vineyard pretending to be him, then I 
have to assume that you're aware that you look just like him."

"Yes, I know that."

"Why is that, do you think?"

I looked at her like she was stupid.  I couldn't help it.  "I'm his twin

brother."

She laughed.  "Twin brother, that's a good one."

I wasn't laughing and very shortly, neither was she.  "Is that the cover

story?"

"Lady, look, I don't know what your game is, or why you're here 
harassing me, but I'd like to cut through all the bullshit, all right? 
There is 
no cover.  I'm not a bad guy.  I'm an architect from San Diego whose 
parents died.  At the reading of my mother's Will, I was given a letter
and 
other documents that proved that I was adopted.  Therefore, at the ripe 
old age of 40, I find out that I have biological parents in
Massachusetts 
and a twin brother.  I came out here to find them, only to discover that

they are dead.

"Cheery day for me, I can tell you.  Since everyone thought I was Fox, I

didn't disabuse them of the notion, because frankly, I wanted to snoop 
through the house and find out ALL about the life I fucking MISSED OUT 
ON!" I screamed at her, spittle flying out of my mouth.

I couldn't even spare a moment to be embarrassed about it when she 
flinched.  I did hope I hadn't hit her with it.  She was staring at me
with an 
intensity that was unnerving.  "What if I told you I would like to check
you 
out, run your name?"

"I'd say go ahead.  Do whatever you fucking have to do," I said 
dejectedly.

She pulled a cell phone out of her jacket.  Good god, how many pockets 
were in that thing?  That jacket was like a magical hat that held 10
times 
what it should.  I still had no idea what she'd stabbed me with.  She
hit 
the speed dial and waited a second.  I listened to her side of the 
conversation.

"Conroy, it's Shona.  Yeah, I need you to run a name for me. 
Everything.  
I want everything you can find.  Jackson a/k/a Jake Winters, San Diego, 
California.  Yeah, now.  Call me back."  She slapped the phone shut.  

"Now what?" I asked.

"Now we wait."

I sighed.  "Well, I'm hungry.  Wanna get something to eat?"
"There's a nice place down the block," I offered.

"How about downstairs?" she countered.

"Afraid I'll run?" I asked, unable to keep from teasing her.  I could
only 
assume she had a gun hidden somewhere in the magic jacket.  I had no 
intentions of running.  Maybe this enigmatic woman could help me find 
answers to all the questions plaguing me.  She obviously knew about 
Fox Mulder.  Maybe she knew a lot of other things too.

She smiled.  "Maybe.  Let's stick close to home," she said, imbuing the 
statement with more meaning than I could grasp.  "I see you're packed."

"I was leaving tonight."

"Where were you going?"

For a split second, I thought about lying.  "Washington D.C."

She nodded curtly and stood, heading for the door.  I followed at a 
sedate pace, rubbing the back of my arm.  Son of a bitch that hurt.  I 
wondered what she had stabbed me with.  Alien bounty hunter?  
Clones?  Who was Kurt?  Was this chick for real?  How would stabbing 
me tell her anything?  Maybe aliens didn't feel pain.  Aliens?  Jesus, I

was losing it.  There was no such thing as aliens.  My mother had 
believed in alien abductions and I'd always thought she was crazy.  
She'd told me to read a book she particularly liked and I'd bought it. 
In 
fact, that was the day I met Jennifer.  I'd bought it to humor her,
nothing 
more.  Now I wondered if maybe it wasn't all bullshit.
 
XXXXXXXXXX
DR. CHARLES SUMNER'S HOME
BALTIMORE, MD
MONDAY - 3:00 PM

"Come in, come in," he greeted us at the front door.  I glanced at
Mulder 
and noticed how tense he was.  I wished he could relax.  

The elderly doctor showed us into his living room and we sat on an old, 
overstuffed couch.  "Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, doctor. 

I'm Agent Scully."  I didn't introduce Mulder and the old gentleman
didn't 
ask.

"No problem.  Whatever is this all about?  FBI, quite exciting for an
old 
man," he chuckled.

I smiled.  "We have to ask you some questions about your practice and a 
delivery you performed in 1961."

"1961?  Oh my goodness.  My memory isn't so good anymore, children."

Mulder smiled at us being called children, and I was glad to see him 
release some of his rigid stance as he sat there on the couch.  Mulder 
said, "Well, this one might stick out.  You used to practice in 
Massachusetts, right?"

"Yes, in Woodshole," he answered with a nod.

"That's on the mainland," Mulder commented.

"Yes, it is.  But I primarily took care of the residents of Martha's
Vineyard, 
Nantucket, Chilmark and Vineyard Haven."

"I see," I replied.  "Do you remember a family named Mulder?"

His face fell from its jovial countenance and he said, "Yes, I do."

"Was a Teena Mulder one your patients?" Mulder asked.  We knew she 
was.  This would tell us if he would lie.

"Yes, she was," he said sadly.

"You remember her well, then?" I asked.

He nodded.

Mulder asked, "Did you deliver all of her children?"

"Yes, she had a boy and girl."

We were silent for a few moments and then Mulder said, "Weren't there 
three babies?" he asked quietly.

The doctor clenched his jaw and pursed his lips.

Mulder prodded.  "Dr. Sumner.  Weren't there three babies?"

He swallowed.  "Yes," he croaked out.

"Why did you lie?" I asked.

He sucked on his dentures for several seconds and then said, "I was 
sworn to secrecy."

"By whom?" I asked.

"By the father, William Mulder.  He was some big deal in the Department 
of Justice and demanded that I cooperate.  I didn't question him much.  
He practically threatened my life, telling me to only make out one birth

certificate for one boy.  I guess he had his reasons, but it always
rankled.  
I'm an honest man."

"Did he tell you why?"

"No, he just said that it was a matter of life and death.  I delivered
those 
babies at the Mulder home.  She wouldn't go to the hospital, which 
bothered me from the start.  What if she had needed emergency care?"

Mulder said, "He must have given you some kind of explanation."

The doctor cleared his throat.  "He told me that they were giving one
son 
up for adoption.  That he had enemies, and he didn't want them to know 
there were two children.  That whichever one they kept would be in 
danger.  He wanted to ensure that at least one of his sons grew up safe.
 
I accepted the explanation.  I really didn't have any choice.  It was
1961.  
Things were a lot different back then you know?  You didn't question 
government officials without serious consequences."

"Did you make out a second birth certificate?" Mulder asked.

He coughed.  "Yes.  I told him that I had to if he was going to go
through 
an adoption agency.  He consented and I made a birth certificate, but
put 
a different name on it."

"What name was that?" I inquired.

He stared at me myopically.  "John Doe," he whispered.

Mulder hung his head.   I asked, "Do you know which agency the 
Mulders used?"

He shook his head.  "No, he didn't tell and to my shame, I didn't ask. 
I've 
always wondered what happened to that boy.  So what is this all about?  
Are they being prosecuted, the Mulders, for something?"

I smiled.  "No, I'm afraid they've both passed away."

"Oh!  That's a shame.  So what is this all about then?"

Mulder waited until the doctor shifted his gaze from me to him.  He
stuck 
out his hand, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier.  I'm Fox
Mulder."

'He always did have a flair for the dramatic,' I thought.  Good thing
the 
doc didn't have a bad heart.

XXXXXXXXXX
LAMBERT'S COVE COUNTRY INN
R.R. #1
VINEYARD HAVEN, MA
RESTAURANT/BAR
MONDAY - 5:00 PM

We ate in awkward silence for about ten minutes before I couldn't stand 
it anymore.  "So how long have you been with the Company?" I asked, 
using the vernacular I'd only read about.

She smiled.  "A long time, Mr. Winters, sixteen years."

"Wow, how old are you?"

"I'm thirty-six.  I was recruited right out of high school.  Spent two
years 
training and then went to work.  Of course, I had about four years of
on-
the-job training before I was given a steady partner and set loose on my

own.  It's my life.  It's all I've ever known."

"No ring.  Never married?" I asked.

"No.  You?"

I shook my head.  "No, I've sacrificed the family route for my career as

well."

"I don't know if I've ever thought of it as a sacrifice," she said
honestly.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I lapsed into silence again.  We 
contemplated each other for a moment as we ate, but the silence was 
more comfortable now.  I watched her from under my lashes.  She was 
an extremely attractive woman.  Tall and brunette, good size chest, long

legs.  

She was exactly my type, and yet, I didn't feel any sort of sexual 
attraction to her.  I found that strange.  Not that I was a total pig or

anything, but I always noticed attractive woman, and wasn't above 
thinking of them in a sexual way.  I'd realized a long time ago that I
liked 
to date female versions of myself.  I somehow never thought of that as 
being narcissistic.  It just happened to be what turned me on.  Ms.
Shona 
MacIntyre was a mystery indeed.  She was obviously strong and 
confident, something I also admired in a woman.  I couldn't stand 
simpering, giggling women that needed to be taken care of.  Somehow, 
the less they needed me, the more I wanted to take care of them.  
Jennifer immediately came to mind and with that, a sense of crushing 
guilt.  

God, I still don't know why I'd run from her.  I was lying to myself.  I
knew 
why.  She had been getting too close.  In an alarmingly short amount of 
time, she had wiggled under my skin.  The sex had been mind blowing.  
That part I could handle.  It was when I started to wonder what she was 
doing in the middle of the day that I knew I was in trouble.  When I 
started wanting to spend more than just the weekends with her, I was 
surprised.  When I found myself at her door on a Wednesday night, 
unable to wait for Friday, I knew she was someone special.  I'd panicked

and ran.  Apparently, I'd also left behind a little present.  She'd been

undeniably pregnant when I'd seen her about a week and a half ago.

At first, I hadn't answered her calls, convinced I could detach myself
and 
I would get over her.  I had tried.  I'd forced myself to take on a
couple 
demanding jobs and even tried dating around.  No one had made me 
forget the pleasure I found in her company.

Then my mother had died.  I'd wanted to call her so bad, wanted the 
comfort of her arms, but I'd denied myself in true macho fashion.  What
a 
schmuck.  Then I'd attended the reading of the Will and gotten my
letter; 
the letter that had made my world come crashing down around my ears.  
I'd looked up the Mulders.  After all these years, I was surprised to
find 
Teena Mulder still on Martha's Vineyard and still listed.  I'd left Mrs.

Mulder's number with my employer in case of emergency before taking a 
leave of absence.  Then, I'd hopped the first flight to Massachusetts,
not 
knowing what I would find.  How was I to know that they were dead?  
How was I to know that Fox Mulder still owned the house and had a 
housekeeper living there to keep the place up?  

Jennifer.  I wondered if she'd had the baby by now.  Would it be a boy
or 
a girl?  Was she back in San Diego?  How had it happened?  I'd used a 
condom faithfully, except for that one time.  I'd been so caught up in
the 
passion I felt for her, I'd forgotten.  I'd remembered as I slipped
inside her 
and went to pull out.  She'd held me to her with her long legs wrapped 
around my hips and whispered, "It's all right, love me."

I'd taken that to mean that she was on birth control of some kind and
had 
just allowed me to use condoms as double protection.  Guess I was 
wrong.  That was the last time we'd been together.  With nothing 
between us, the feelings had been overwhelming and frightening.  I'd 
come harder than I ever had in my life, buried deep in her body, and 
apparently, fertilizing one, little egg.  Shit.  I couldn't walk away
from it.  
As much as my mind screamed at me to run, I knew I couldn't.  I wasn't 
willing to walk away from Jennifer and I wasn't going to walk away from 
my child the way my parents had thrown me away.  I hated the Mulders 
for it.  I wasn't going to become what I hated.

"You're awfully quiet," she said, having finished her dinner.  She was 
sipping on a wine spritzer.

For some reason I found I wanted to talk to someone about Jennifer.  I 
put my fork down, my appetite suddenly gone.  "I fucked up," I said.

"By coming here?" she asked.

"No, back home.  With a woman."

"Ah!  The universal cause of distress."

"What's that?" I inquired.

"Why, love of course," she answered with a smile that displayed dimples 
in her cheeks.

I smiled.  Did I love Jennifer?  Yes, if I was honest with myself, I
did.  
Would she take me back now after I'd been such a jerk?  I could only 
hope.  She had come all the way to Massachusetts looking for me.  I 
could only hope that was good sign.  "Right, love," I said with a grin.

"That's why I avoid it all costs," she said, a slight tease in her
voice.

I smiled back.  "Why's that?"

"Because it hurts," she said, and the sincerity in her voice was so raw
I 
found myself staring into her eyes.  They were hauntingly familiar and I

felt a shiver go down my spine.  It was almost as if I knew this woman 
from somewhere before, but that was impossible.

I shook my head to clear it of that notion and break the connection 
between us.  Her cell phone rang and I jumped about a foot.  She 
grinned at me and reached into the inside pocket of the magic jacket and

extracted it.  I watched and listened as unobtrusively as I could while
she 
took the call.

"Uh huh, what else?" she asked.  "I see.  What year?"  Pause.  "How far 
back?"  Another pause.  "I see."  A lengthier pause followed.  "No,
that's 
fine, Conroy.  Thanks."  One more pause.  "I don't know when I'll be 
back.  Couple weeks, probably.  Right then.  Bye for now," she finished 
and snapped the phone shut, cutting off the call.

I raised my eyebrows.  "Did I pass the smudge test?" I asked cheekily.

She smiled and showed perfect, white teeth.  "Squeaky clean, Mr. 
Winters."

"Jake, call me Jake, please.  Otherwise I feel like I'm under 
investigation."

Her smile turned into a smirk.  I couldn't tell if she was amused by me
or 
not.  "They found records on you going all the way back to grammar 
school and beyond, right from the date of your adoption actually."

"You're surprised," I said.  It was a statement.

She nodded.  "Yes, I am," she answered and then went silent again, 
staring at me.


PART 6 (PG)
LAMBERT'S COVE COUNTRY INN
R.R. #1
VINEYARD HAVEN, MA
RESTAURANT/BAR
MONDAY - 6:00 PM

I looked down at my tee shirt then back up at her.  "Do I have something

on my face?" I asked finally when I caught her still staring. 

She shook her head slightly.  "No, no, I'm sorry," she stuttered.  

Well, well, well, something was shaking her up.  Her composure was 
finally cracking.  "What now?" I asked.

"We go to D.C. to see Fox Mulder."

"We?"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Um, yes, but why do you have to go?" I asked carefully.

She licked her lips.  "Let's just say I have a vested interest in the 
outcome."

I held her gaze.  "Protecting other federal agents and all that," I
repeated 
her words to her.

She nodded.  "Right," she said and I felt she wasn't telling the entire 
truth.  She had one of the best blank expressions I'd ever seen. 

"You'd be a hell of a poker player," I commented.

That pried a small smile out of her.  "I AM a hell of a poker player,
Mr. 
Winters," she responded.  She waved to the waiter for the check, and 
handed him her MasterCard when he appeared.  He nodded without 
saying anything and disappeared toward the register.   


XXXXXXXXXX
FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT
ARLINGTON, VA
TUESDAY -  3:00 PM

I watched Mulder heave himself off the couch and go to answer the 
phone on his desk.  We'd been watching some stupid sitcom, just 
relaxing as we ate take-out Chinese food.  

He picked up the portable receiver.  "Mulder," he answered.

I watched him as he listened.  His posture straightened and his entire 
body went tense.  I set my plate of food down and approached him 
slowly, circling so he could see me there.  He pointed frantically to
the 
bedroom and I knew he wanted me to pick up the phone in there.  I ran 
to the extension and carefully lifted the receiver.

A very soft, feminine voice was saying, [Meet me at The Mayak Fissile 
Material Storage Facility Administrative Offices on 'D' Street tonight
at 
8:00 PM sharp.  I'll meet you in the lobby.  Don't be late.]

"Who are you?  What do they do there?"

[Mayak is a facility in Russia funded by the Department of Defense's 
Cooperative Threat Reduction program.  It secures and monitors storage 
for 25,000 canisters of plutonium and highly enriched uranium from 
dismantled Russian nuclear weapons.  The facility here in D.C. is the 
administrative offices for all agencies involved in the containment,]
she 
said.

O.K., she had my attention.  I frankly was shocked that one of Mulder's 
weird informants would have access to an installation like this let
alone 
knowledge of its true purpose.

"Why there?"

[I have some pull and we can have a private meeting here.]

"You have PULL?" he asked incredulously.  "Who are you?  This sounds 
way too much like a trap to me."

She chuckled.  [No, no trap Mr. Mulder.  I'm the last person that would 
wish to harm you.]

"I don't trust you," he said bluntly.  

I was holding my breath so as not to give myself away.

[What can I say to convince you?]

"Tell me your name and who you are?"

[So you can check me out?] she said, chuckling.

"Yes."

[Very well.  Do you recall an informant of yours, code name, Deep 
Throat?]

I heard Mulder gasp.  "Yes.  He's dead," he said flatly.

[Yes, he is.  I am his protege.]

"Your name?"

[Tiger,] she said.

"What's your real name?"

[Have your little friends hack into the DOJ and look up code name Tiger.
 
I'm not giving my real name on an open line.]

"All right, I'll do that.  I'll try to be there at eight o'clock."

[Very good.  Oh, wait a second.]

"Yes?"

[Agent Scully, you're welcome to come along.]
 
Mulder replied, "My partner's not here right now."

She laughed a full-throated laugh.  [Come now, Agent Mulder.  She 
listening in, isn't she?  That's all right.  I don't mind.  I know you
tell her 
everything anyway.  I'll see you at eight o'clock.]

Then the phone went dead.

"Damn!" I exclaimed and slammed down the phone.  "How did she know 
I was there?  I was so careful when I picked up the phone," I asked as I

reentered the living room.

"She probably had some kind of device that told her when the call is in 
conference or more than one line is active.  I'm calling the Gunmen to 
check her out."

I nodded and waited while he contacted them.  They said they would call 
back.  We just hoped that it would be before 8:00 PM.  We finished our 
dinner in silence and cleaned up the containers and paper plates.  We 
went back into the living room, and Mulder turned off the TV, setting
the 
portable phone on the coffee table within reach.

I cuddled into his side and said, "What are you thinking?"

"I don't like this.  Out of the blue, this woman calls, says she's a
protege 
of Deep Throat and wants to meet us at a DOJ nuclear storage facility 
building, even if it is an administrative building.  What's wrong with
that 
picture?"

"You think she's Consortium?"

"I don't know.  I don't like the location though."

"We don't have to go.  Or we could wait and if she calls again, we ask
for 
a different location."

"No, I have to go."

I sat up straighter and turned to face him.  "No.  You don't," I said
firmly, 
looking him in the eye.

He swallowed and said, "How can I not?"

"Easy.  You just don't go.  If it's that important, she'll call again. 
Was 
there a number on your caller ID?" I asked.

He shook his head.  "No, I checked.  It was blocked.  Not a big surprise

there.  Sounded like a cell phone though."

An hour later the phone rang and Mulder picked it up.  "Mulder," he 
answered.  He held the phone away from his ear so I could listen.

[Dude, you are consorting with some highly influential people,] Langley 
said without saying hello first.

"What have you got, Langley?" Mulder barked.

[Yo, calm down, dude.  What's put you in such a good mood?]

"Langley," he growled out a warning.

[Okay, okay.  One Shona MacIntyre.  Nice Scottish name, don't you 
think?]

"Langley, I'm warning you.  I don't have a lot of time. Cut to the
chase.  
I'm in no mood for chitchat," he growled again.

[Right.  Shona MacIntyre, code name, Tiger, Strategic Operations 
Services Operative for the one, the only, Company, with a capital C.  
Employed from 1984 to the present.  Career girl, Mulder.  Exemplary 
record, what there is of it, which isn't much.]

"She's CIA?" he asked, obviously surprised.

[You got it.  Sixteen-year veteran.  Thirty-Six years old, never
married.  
Highest possible security clearance.  She's not administration over
there, 
but she plays with the big dogs, Mulder.  Watch your back.]

"I will Langley, thanks for the information.  If you find anything else,
let 
me know."

[Your wish is my command.  Glad to be of service,] he taunted.

"Sorry I barked, Langley.  I do appreciate it."

[Good thing I know that already.  Your attitude certainly wouldn't give
it 
away,] he said sullenly.

"I said I was sorry, Langley."

[I believe sorry takes the form of free Philly cheese steaks, Mulder, at

your earliest opportunity.]

Mulder chuckled.  "You got it.  I owe you dinner."

[I WILL collect,] he said sternly.

"I'm sure you will," Mulder replied.  "Bye, Langley."

[Bye,] he said back and the line went dead.

I just looked at him.  "Well, that was interesting."

"Fucking C-I-A, Scully," he said incredulously.

"Deep Throat's protege."

"Who died trying to protect me."

"Yes," I said simply.

"Does that mean I can trust her?" he asked solemnly.

I looked him in the eye.  "Trust no one, Mulder.  Trust no one."

XXXXXXXXXX
M.F.M.S.F. ADMINISTRATIVE OFFICES
WASHINGTON, D.C.
TUESDAY - 8:00 PM

We parked in the enormous parking lot outside the facility.  We 
approached the lobby and scoped out the area through the glass doors 
before entering.

A guard station could be seen there.  Standing in front of it and
talking to 
the guard behind the bullet-proof glass was a tall, statuesque woman 
wearing a severe, black business suit and three inch heels.  Her hair
was 
flowing down her back to her waist in big waves.  She raised her hands 
and was knotting her hair into a ponytail with her back to us when we 
entered. 

She turned and I sucked in my breath.  She was not only beautiful, but 
looked hauntingly familiar.  I couldn't place her though.  I searched my

memory banks and came up blank.  I wondered if I'd seen her on some 
political footage or something from my past.  She was beautiful, with 
olive skin, high cheekbones and full lips.  She had piercing green eyes.
 I 
glanced at her waist and saw the bulge of her weapon beneath the 
tailored suit.  

"Ah, Agents Mulder and Scully," she said.  "Glad you could come."

She stuck out her hand.  "Ms. Mac--" I began.

"Tiger," she corrected.  "Call me Tiger.  All my friends do."

I eyed her suspiciously, realizing immediately that she didn't want to
use 
her real name for some reason.  Deep Throat was my previous contact's 
code name.  I never learned his real name in the entire time I'd known 
him.  "Tiger," I repeated.  "To what do we owe this little summons?"

She turned to face Scully and held out her hand, "Agent Scully, so nice 
to finally meet you."

Scully shook her hand and nodded curtly.

Shona raised an eyebrow but Scully's lack of warmth wasn't commented 
on.  She turned toward the door leading to the interior and said,
"Follow 
me.  We'll talk inside."  As she held the door open for us, she said, 
"Gerald, I'm not to be disturbed for anything less than Word War III. 
Is 
that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied and saluted her with military precision.  

She winked at him, smiled, and then shut the door behind us.  She 
walked past us and we followed her as she headed down a long corridor, 
turned left and marched down another long corridor.  She stopped at a 
mid point in the hallway.  I could see another turn in the hallway a few

feet down.  This place was obviously a maze of hallways and offices.  
We were standing in front of a secured door.  "Mr. Mulder, I have 
someone I would like you to meet."

I went instantly on alert and my hand strayed toward my weapon.  Her 
eyes flicked to my waist.  "Normally, everyone allowed beyond the entry 
must leave their weapons at the front desk.  I showed great trust in you

by not disarming you before letting you in.  I hope that wasn't a
mistake," 
she said crisply.

My arm fell and dangled at my side.  She nodded smartly.  "Good.  Now, 
this person might be angry with you, but in no way is he going to harm 
you.  He has no weapon, so you can stand down."

"You said you had information for me," I reminded her.

She looked at me calmly.  "I do, and this man is that information."

"Information on what?" I demanded, growing impatient.

"He will explain his significance to your past," she said cryptically.  
"Ready?"

I nodded and glanced at Scully.  She was a bit tense, but cool and 
poised.  Tiger took a plastic card out of her jacket and slipped it
through 
the security lock on the door.  She then punched in seven digits so 
quickly that I couldn't catch them.  She pushed on the bar of the door
and 
it slid open silently as the air lock broke, swinging inward on a
hydraulic 
hinge.

A man suit was standing with his back to us at the far side of what 
appeared to be a conference room.  He was wearing a suit, but other 
than that, I couldn't see anything remarkable about him.  The door swung

closed and Tiger said, "Have a seat, Agents."

We sat on opposite sides of the small conference table that would fit 
three on a side.  "What's this all about?" I asked.

The man turned and faced us.  Scully and I both gasped.  He said, 
"That's what I would like to know."

I was out my chair in a flash.  It nearly crashed to the ground.  Only 
Tiger's lightening reflexes caught the back of it and righted it as I
stalked 
up to the man.  I stopped about a foot in front of him and we stared at 
each other.  We were mirror images.  I had a mole on my right cheek.  
His was on his left.  I was right-handed, and I knew from our
information 
that he was left-handed.  Otherwise, we were carbon copies.  He was 
exactly six feet tall as I was.  He even had the same haircut, and hazel

eyes.  "Jackson Winters," I whispered.

He frowned and nodded.  "So you did know about me," he said, the 
anger clear in his voice.

"Not until five days ago," I said.

He raised an eyebrow as I held out my hand.  "Fox Mulder."

"Call me Jake," he said and shook my hand in return.  I motioned to the 
opposite end of the room and we moved to sit down.  He sat next to 
Scully, and across from me.  Tiger sat across from Scully on the end.

I blew a breath out of pursed lips.  "I don't even know where to start."

"How about the beginning," he said.  

Scully had an odd look on her face and I realized that it was because he

sounded just like me as well.  I cleared my throat.  "My Assistant
Director 
got a call last week from a woman claiming that one of his agents, a Fox

Mulder, was the father of her baby, and she needed to get in touch with 
him."

"Oh God," he groaned and put his face in his hands, elbows on the table.
 
"Jennifer," he said softly.

"Yes.  I went to the hospital, and told her I wasn't the father of her
baby.  
I'd never met her before.  She didn't believe me.  She said I'd
obviously 
lied to her, that I ran away suddenly without any explanation.  She'd 
tracked me down to Martha's Vineyard and found out I lived here in D.C."

"Jesus," he said, looking up at me once again, and lacing his fingers 
together in front of him on the table.

"Yeah, Jesus.  Her accusations almost destroyed the most important 
relationship in my life," I said.

He glanced at Scully and then back at me.  

I nodded.  "This is my partner, Dana Scully."

He turned and shook her hand.  "Sorry, that was rude.  I should have 
introduced myself."

"It's all right.  I'm sure this is as much a shock to you as it was to
Mulder," 
she said.

"Yes, it is," he replied.

I continued.  "So, we looked you up with the information given to us by 
Jennifer and found out the basics about you.  At first I thought you
were 
a bounty hunter, pretending to be me.  Then I thought you might be a 
clone.  I didn't know what to think.  Then we tracked down the doctor
that 
delivered us and found out that you are definitely my twin, given up for

adoption at the time of our birth.  Your birth certificate reads John
Doe."

"I know," he croaked.  "I didn't know that until recently when my
mother, 
or my adopted mother I should say, died and left everything to me in her

Will, including an envelope that had a letter explaining my adoption, my

original birth certificate and all her information on my birth parents."

Scully and Tiger were silent all through this exchange.  I spared them a

glance.  They were both intrigued by this exchange but didn't seem in 
any hurry to interrupt.  "So you came looking for your real parents?" I 
surmised.

He nodded.  "Yes, and found out they were dead.  The information from 
my mother did not, however, tell me I had siblings.  I found that out
when 
I arrived at the house and Jodi called me Fox and gave condolences on 
the passing of my parents."

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I said.  "That must have sucked."

He chuckled.  "Yeah, it was a bit of a shock.  Then I saw a picture of
you 
in the house, one of the two I could find.  One was of Bill and Teena 
Mulder at their wedding, which wasn't a lot of help, and the other was
of 
you as a college grad from Oxford.  Although you were 21, I knew the 
face.  I'd been 21 once, and you were wearing my face."

"So what now?" I asked.

"I don't know.  What's all this crap about clones and aliens?"  He waved
a 
hand at Tiger.  "She was spouting all that nonsense before too.  There's

no such thing as aliens.  This sounds like some of the crap my mother 
used to believe in.  To my knowledge, science has not advanced to the 
point where we can clone human beings.  Lambs yes, but not humans."

I glanced at Tiger and she was wearing that annoying, little smirk that 
she'd shown us in the lobby.  "You're right, Mr. Winters," she said.

"Jake," he corrected her.

She grinned.  I stared in disbelief and Scully just looked puzzled.  She

continued, "You're right in that OUR science has not advanced to the 
point where we can clone human beings."

He looked incredulous.  "Wait a minute!  Are you trying to tell me that 
aliens of some kind have the technology to clone people?  That's 
ridiculous!"

I broke in without thinking.  "Yes, that's what she is saying.  I know
it's 
true.  I've seen it."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Years ago, I saw them, hundreds of clones of eight year old Samantha 
on a bee farm in Canada.  It was fucking spooky."

Tiger gasped, but otherwise said nothing. I glanced at her and noted the

sweat popping out on her upper lip.

Jake eyed me like so many other people had in the past, like I was crazy

as a bed bug.  Then he dropped the next shocker by asking, "Who's 
Samantha?"

Oh my God.  He didn't know about Samantha either.  Me and my big 
mouth.  It was my turn to put my face in my hands.  "Shit," I mumbled.

"Who's Samantha?" he asked a little louder this time.

I peered at him over my fingers, which I lowered to still cover my
mouth.  
"Our sister," I whispered.

"WHAT?" he bellowed.  Oh, this was going to be a long conversation.