From: Joan Stack Date: Sat, 8 Jul 2000 09:11:10 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Revised(2) "Time & Choices" by Cadillac Red Source: direct Disclaimer: The characters of Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and Walter Skinner do not belong to me; they belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I mean no harm and will make no money from their use. Spoilers: Really none, except a detail in "Detour" Setting: Somewhere in the sixth season. Rating: MSR rated PG. Title: Time & Choices Author: Cadillac Red Summary: Scully and Mulder find themselves lots in an alternative time line. What they find there could change their lives forever. *********************************************************** Potomac, Maryland 7:23 p.m. Scully sighed softly, staring out the window into the dense rain that was pounding on the car's roof. Mulder heard and glanced at her momentarily when he was sure she wasn't looking, then turned his eyes back to the road ahead of them. This storm had come up unexpectedly and it was far and away the worst rain he'd ever driven in. They were not far from home but they were traveling a narrow, circuitous road that wound its way through a part of Maryland with which he was not familiar. And between the eerie darkness that had fallen a little while ago, and the driving rain, he could barely see the front of the car. He was tense with worry, hands tight on the steering wheel, but something else was bothering his partner. "Thinking about what 'normal' people are doing tonight, Scully?" he teased her, hoping it didn't sound like he was really concerned. She pressed her lips together, but a sad smile played across them nevertheless. "Maybe," she said quietly. He glanced at her once again, for a split second, then back at the road as the tires hydroplaned momentarily beneath them. But that would leave him in the car with an introspective partner contemplating her life's choices, and that way lay disaster. Of that he was certain. "Well, I assure you, 'normal' people would never have seen what we saw today, Scully," he told her, hoping to get her mind back to their case. The dead body they'd seen had obviously been frightened to death, after telling neighbors and friends he was being regularly abducted by aliens. The possibilities for what might have caused the death were infinite and intriguing, to Mulder's mind. "What did we see, Mulder?" Scully asked him impatiently. "An old man died. We found no specific cause of death--" "Oh, come on, Scully!" he responded immediately. "Given everything we know, and the fact you can't FIND a cause of death--" "Mulder!" she shouted as a sudden burst of light blinded them both. He hit the brakes, hard, and the car skidded into a spin. Mulder's head bounced off the steering wheel but he struggled to remain conscious, trying to bring the car to a halt. Scully let out a small scream next to him as her head hit the window beside her and they both lost consciousness momentarily. Within a minute, Mulder lifted his head and moaned at the pain that little bit of motion sent through his skull. The only other sound was that of the windshield wipers beating at double time, and the rain pounding on the top of the car. His head was pounding too but his first thought was of his partner. "Scully?" he asked, reaching over to touch the side of her face. "Scully? Are you all right?" She lifted her head and looked at him, trying to regain focus. "Yeah," she said, exhaling forcefully. "I think I was just dazed. Are you okay?" They both did a quick self-check and found there was no serious damage to either of them. Mulder glanced in the side view mirror and saw another vehicle stopped behind them across the road. It was a late model sedan, like the car they were in. "I'll go see if they're okay," he said, pulling an umbrella from the floor in back. "I think that's what we almost hit." But as he stepped out into the blinding rain, the other car's door opened too. The driver stepped out, a raincoat pulled over his head. "You all right over there?" he called. "Yeah," Mulder shouted back. "We're okay. How about you?" "Fine. I didn't expect to see anyone else out in this storm. You surprised me." "Me too. Well, no harm done," Mulder yelled above the pounding rain. The other guy lifted his head in a wave then got back in his car and started the engine. Mulder did the same and pulled slowly back onto the road. He slowed his speed even further, to about 10 miles per hour. It was unlikely they'd meet anyone else out in this weather, but he wasn't taking any chances. "Mulder?" Scully said suddenly a minute later. "Are you sure we're going the right way? This scenery looks familiar. . . ." "Are you kidding? It's nothing but trees and winding road. And the occasional mailbox at the end of a driveway!" "No, I'm certain I saw that mailbox we just passed before--" "Scully, all these mailboxes come straight out of the L.L. Bean catalogue. They all look the same." "No, Mulder. I think we got turned around when we went into that spin." "Scully, we spun exactly 360, I was tracking it. We ended up facing the same way we were going when we--" The car began making a strange, knocking noise and Mulder felt the power in the steering wheel disappear. "Damn! We must have done some damage after all." They continued another quarter mile but the power in the brakes began failing, too. "Let's just pull into one of these driveways. I'm sure the locals won't mind being visited by two stranded, bedraggled FBI agents," Mulder finally said, muscling the car into a right turn onto a long, paved driveway. There were lights all the way up to the house and he coasted to a stop as close as he could get to the front porch of a large, center hall colonial. "I'll go see who's home," Mulder said after turning the car off. "Do you want to wait here?" "No," Scully answered decisively. "I already spend way too much time in this car." She opened the door and headed for the front door, with Mulder quickening his pace to catch up to her. When they got to the red, double doors, she reached out to lift the brass knocker but the door opened immediately. "Oh, Dana, I'm so glad you're home," Maggie Scully said. "I was worried about you two, driving in this storm. I called the hospital and they said Fox picked you up so I knew you'd be okay but you're so late. . . " She didn't wait for a response but headed back into a large, cathedral ceilinged living room with a fieldstone fireplace at one end. She was holding a baby, no more than eight or ten months of age. Scully had never seen the child before. Or this house. "Mom?" Scully sputtered, not at all certain what the hell was happening. Mulder stood beside her, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Bill!" Maggie called up the staircase that wound its way up from the foyer to the upstairs. "We have to go now, Bill. The weather's let up a bit. I told the Grahams we'd meet them at the restaurant." "It's Tom Graham's 60th birthday," Maggie said, turning her attention back to them. "Otherwise I'd call and cancel. Now the baby's been fed and bathed, Dana. And Jason and Katie, too. I left you and Fox some baked ziti in the warmer and there's a big salad in the refrigerator. Oh, and Mrs. Klausmann called. Said she's back in town and will be back at work tomorrow. Not that I mind seeing my grandchildren, but it's been a looonnng week! At my age, I much prefer just visiting, I'm afraid. Oh! Mrs. Klausmann said her daughter's wedding was lovely and she loved the Tiffany bowl you sent." Scully and Mulder had not uttered another word as Maggie prattled on. A man appeared at the top of the stairs and Dana was so shocked by the sight she began to feel lightheaded. "Dana! Fox! Glad you're here," retired Captain Bill Scully announced as he made his way down the curved staircase. "That son of yours has been beating my pants off at that new computer game! His reflexes are unbelievable. He's a force to be reckoned with, even if he is only six." He reached the bottom, walked over and gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek. Then he offered his hand to Mulder. The younger man hesitated a second, but instinct took over and he put his hand out in return. "Good thing you went and got her, Fox," Mr. Scully continued. "You're a good driver, Dana, but that weather was like nothing I've ever seen!" "Dad?" Dana breathed, but her voice caught and she stopped. Her father had been dead for nearly four years. Yet here he was, clear as day, standing right in front of her. "Yes?" he asked, as his wife handed the baby to Dana. Maggie gave the child a kiss on the forehead as he reached out for Scully. "God, I love them when they're this age," Maggie said. "And you love them when they're Jason's age. And Katie's age," her husband laughed at her. "Let's go, Mag. I want to take advantage of this break in the weather." He reached into the hall closet and took out his wife's raincoat and helped her put it on. Then he pulled out his own coat. "Wait!" Mulder finally said. "What's going on here? Who--" "No use trying to talk us out of going, Fox," Bill Mulder said. "Tom Graham and I spent almost our entire careers in the Navy together. I wouldn't miss his birthday under any circumstance. We'll be okay." "No, that's not it! I want to--" "Really, darling," Maggie cut him off. "We appreciate the thought but we'll be fine. I'll give you a call tomorrow morning, Dana." The two older people opened the door and stepped out. The rain had fallen off to a drizzle and they opened a golf umbrella and headed out to their car. Mulder and Scully watched them go, Mulder holding the door open in their wake and Scully holding a strange child in her arms. The baby nestled into her shoulder and gurgled contentedly. She looked at Mulder, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "Oh, shit," he said, in answer to her unspoken question. "Daddy said a bad word!" They both turned to find a little girl about three standing behind them, hands on her hips. She was petite and had curly red hair and vivid blue eyes. "I heard it! You said a bad word, Daddy!" Mulder stared at her for a second or two. "You must be Katie," he said. "Mom!" another child called down from the top of the stairs. The boy was about six, or so they thought from Bill Mulder's earlier comment. He had dark hair and he was hanginging on the railing, swinging from side to side. "Don't forget we have to bring the snacks for my soccer game tomorrow. And my uniform's still dirty." "And that must be Jason," Scully whispered loud enough for only Mulder to hear. "What the hell is going on here, Mulder?" "I dunno, Scully," he answered her. "I . . . don't have the foggiest idea." A little while later, they'd managed to get the three kids into the kitchen with the promise of ice cream before bedtime for the two oldest. Scully gave the baby a teething ring after placing him in a high chair she'd found there. The kitchen was large and modern, with a warm, inviting feeling. Lots of wood and gingham curtains on windows that ran almost the full length of the house. It looked like something from the pages of "Southern Living," Mulder thought as they sat down. "Where are your parents?" Mulder asked the kids as they slurped ice cream from big spoons. The two kids giggled. "You're funny, Daddy," Katie giggled. Jason laughed, too, and continued to shovel vanilla ice cream into his mouth. "Do you have any pictures of your parents?" Scully asked them gently. "Pictures! That's it," Mulder exclaimed, getting up from the table. "Where would they have photos?" He walked into the next room, a family room from what Scully could tell from where she sat shaking a rattle at the baby. Then he returned, several frames in hand and went into the living room. He came back a moment later with an armful of photos. "Well, this won't help. Someone did a great job of doctoring some photos," he said, putting the pile carefully on the table. "This is work worthy of the Gunmen." Scully pulled one frame out and saw it was a picture of her, in a white wedding suit. She guessed she looked about six years younger than she did now and she was a little heavier. There was a second photo, this one of her and Mulder, cutting a wedding cake. They appeared to be laughing and enjoying the moment, their two bodies leaning into each other. That photo would have been hard to pull off, she knew. It was a masterpiece of deception. There was a family photo as well, she and Mulder with these three children. And photos from what looked like a family vacation to Disney World, with just the two oldest kids. She looked decidedly pregnant in that one. Several other photos were of her, or Mulder, with one or both older children at different ages. And finally, there was a photo of her and the baby. She was nursing him and sitting in the windowseat on the other side of the kitchen. That appeared to be a recent photo, no more than a few months old. Her hairstyle was exactly the same as the one she now sported. "How. . . ? she began, then stopped as the real question fought to come out. "Why, Mulder? Why would someone do this? Why would they go to all this trouble to . . . to accomplish . . . what?" He shook his head, a look of complete puzzlement and worry darkening his features. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I--" His voice trailed off into nothing and he shrugged his shoulders. They stared at each other another minute, unable to decide what to do next. Then a small sound from the baby caught Scully's attention. He appeared to be close to nodding off in the high chair. Some instinct inside her clicked into gear. Dana Scully could always be counted on to do what had to be done. "I think I better get him to bed," she said matter-of- factly. "And my guess is these other two shouldn't be far behind." She lifted the child into her arms and headed toward the stairs. "I'll handle . . . him," she said, realizing they didn't know his name. "You get the others." "Not fair, Scully," he called to her disappearing back. "How come I get two and you only get one?" She stopped on the stairs and peeked over the railing and back into the kitchen, a small smile threatening to appear. "I've got two words for you, Mulder," she said. "Diaper change." His eyebrows rose immediately. "Never mind, Scully. I'll handle these guys." Scully continued up the stairs. "That's what I thought you'd say," she whispered to herself as she continued up the stairs. Scully got the little one down and returned to the kitchen. Despite their predicament, she was starving and she suspected Mulder must be also. She popped the baked ziti her mother had mentioned into the oven and took the salad out of the refrigerator. She tossed that with some homemade vinaigrette she found on the counter. There was also a loaf of garlic bread prepared and she put that in the oven as well. Mulder appeared at the door of the kitchen, looking a little perturbed. "I've got two words for you, Scully," he said before entering the kitchen and going right to the refrigerator to pull out a bottle of beer. "Potty training." Scully couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from her gut. Whatever the hell was going on, she had never in her life expected to hear those words from him. "While you're there, get me a glass of that white wine," she said as she put salad into two wooden bowls and brought it over to the kitchen table. "We have to eat. We might as well enjoy it. And frankly, I could use a drink right about now." They ate the salad and tucked into the ziti and garlic bread before speaking again. "Ryan," Mulder said suddenly. "What?" "That's the other one's name. Ryan." "Oh! I forgot about that," she answered. She wrinkled her brow. "Ryan is my mother's maiden name. . . ." "Scully, half the little boys in America are named Ryan nowadays," he responded, suspecting where she was going. "And I'm sure whoever set up this scam could find out your mother's maiden name." He took a swallow of beer. "At least they didn't call one of them Kuipers." Scully gave him a curious look. "My mother's maiden name," he said with a smile. "After dinner, I think we need to do some . . . searching." They spent the next several hours checking out every room in the house. More photos were found everywhere, all of them of the same quality as the ones they'd seen earlier. Mulder and Scully with her family at a wedding. Both of them with Katie at a dance recital. Mulder with Jason at a little league game. Framed birth announcements for Jason Scully Mulder, Katherine Dana Mulder and Ryan William Mulder. In a back room downstairs, there was a home office they both seemed to share. Scully's medical books lined the bookshelves on one side and a bunch of law enforcement texts and other titles that represented Mulder's eclectic reading tastes filled the wall on the other side of the room. It appeared from the paperwork they found there that Scully, or whoever Scully was supposed to be, was on staff at NIH in nearby Rockville. She'd apparently spent a couple of years working for the FBI, then left and returned to her career in medicine. Now she was a researcher in the field of epidemiology. Mulder whistled his appreciation for her success as they continued to research `their' lives. Mulder, according to what they found, was the chief of the profiling unit at Quantico. He had spoken recently at a gathering of law enforcement officials in Washington, D.C., and there was a copy of his speech lying on the top of the desk. Mulder flipped through it and nodded as he scanned the text. "I've never seen this before, Scully," he said thoughtfully. "But it all sounds like what I'd say, or write. Except it's a little more . . . predictable than I think I would be. Whoever's behind this put a lot of time and effort into it." They also found a calendar, filled with what looked like Scully's handwriting. Details about all of their lives, where they had to be, where the kids were expected. Doctor appointments, play dates, dinner engagements. Mulder whistled appreciatively once again. "This woman's about as anal as. . . ." he began, before thinking better of where he was going. "As who?" Scully asked archly, not willing to let him wiggle off the hook. Mulder paused, trying to figure a way out of this one. "As anyone I've ever met," he finished, then turned on his heel and exited the room, intent on putting distance between himself and his partner until her attention was focused on something other than his almost faux pas. They headed upstairs a few minutes later, to see what they could find there. Scully checked on the children first because it was what she thought she should do and found they were all in their beds, fast asleep. She wondered about, and found herself resenting, anyone who would use children in this way. She still had no idea what was going on, but these innocent kids didn't deserve to be a part of it. Mulder found a spare bedroom with more books and photos while Scully went into the bedroom. There was a sitting area and a big master bedroom, with a gigantic bath. It was the bathroom of her dreams, she mused, a big, oval bathtub with a jacuzzi attachment, double sinks and a large, stall shower. She found herself wondering who knew her well enough to know the kinds of things she'd put in a house. . . . if she had a house. She shook off that disturbing thought and continued her search. She found a leather bound journal in a drawer in the night table. It was engraved in gold leaf with the initials "DSM" and she opened it at the beginning. It was dated about two months earlier. "May 9, 1999 -- Ryan said his first word today. Well, it sounded like a word to Fox. It was really just a sound and the closest translation would be 'da' but that was enough for his Dad to be certain he'd won that competition! Katie had a dress rehearsal for her dance recital this afternoon. Her hat fell in her eyes on the "Daddy's Little Girl" number and several of the other girls forgot everything they'd learned all year. Miss Audrey says they'll all have it down cold by Saturday. Fox was misty at dress rehearsal -- I can't wait to see what happens Saturday night. He's such a softie when it comes to Katie. Jason lost his first tooth. He's so proud of it, he carried it around all day. Fox snuck into his room and left a $5 bill under his pillow. I told him that was too much but he says inflation's taken a toll on everything." "May 10, 1999 -- Dad came to the hospital today for his pre- op work. They're going to replace two valves, unless the surgeon finds he needs to do more when he gets in there. Dad doesn't let on he's scared, but Mom says he's been losing sleep over it. I keep telling him Jeffrey Cross in the best surgeon I know. I hope to God he proves it on this one. Fox is out of town but he swears he'll be home for Katie's recital, and Dad's surgery on Monday. I miss him when he's away. Life always seems to be nothing but shades of gray when he's gone." Scully skipped ahead to the following week. "May 16, 1999 -- "Dad's doing fine, but he's in some discomfort. I told him that's to be expected but he doesn't take medical advice from me all that often, unfortunately. Thank God he listened when I told him to see a cardiologist. Jeff Cross says he's going to be good as new. Ryan and Katie made him get well cards and he pretended to just like them, but I saw him tear up when he turned away. Fox is on the mend from his run-in with that suspect last week and he's as ornery a patient as ever. Still, it's always better when he's here. I miss the excitement of the FBI now and then but I wouldn't trade one minute of my life now for it. What would I give up? My husband? Our kids? My medical career? (Well, okay, maybe I'd give that up, at least some days I think I would.) But the new research is promising and I feel as though I'm making a difference in the world with the work." Scully put the journal down and felt herself tear up. This woman's words touched her, in a way she didn't fully understand. she chided herself. Mulder came tripping into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed beside her. His hair fell over his forehead and he pursed his lips in frustration. "Well, I don't get it, Scully," he said tersely. "What purpose could be served by all of this? There are photos of us, I mean them, I mean the people we're supposed to think are us. . . on their honeymoon. At parties with all of our relatives. At an FBI ball -- and Ed Carney and Skinner are in that photo! There's a marriage license with what looks like both our signatures on it. I can't even begin to conceive why anyone would go to all this trouble to gaslight us." His eyes lit on the radio alarm clock on the nightstand in back of Scully. It read "9:27" in a red, digital display. "Well, I'm gonna check in with Skinner," he said quickly. "At least let him know what's going on." He picked up the portable phone and dialed the Assistant Director's phone number from memory. He hung up. "Must have misdialed," he said frowning. "It was a non-working number." But redialing more carefully brought no luck again. With growing concern, Scully pulled a phone book out of the night table she'd searched earlier and looked to see if there was a listing for Skinner. There was, it was a northern Virginia exchange, and she read it to Mulder as he dialed again. "Hello," the A.D. answered. It's definitely Skinner's voice. Scully watched her partner relax visibly. "Sir? It's Mulder. I . . . just want to let you know about something-" "Mulder?" Skinner laughed, stopping the younger man in mid- sentence. "What now? Is the dinner party off tomorrow? It's not another Mulder family emergency, is it?" "Wha-- what?" "Seriously, Mulder, is everyone all right? Dana? The kids?" Mulder's face had gone slack-jawed and he was mute in the face of the words he heard. "Mulder? What's wrong?" Skinner demanded, growing serious. "Is something wrong?" "Well, no--. I mean yes. Kind of," he stammered. Scully was looking at him strangely, as though he'd grown a second head. "Everybody here is okay--" "Well, good," the other man said, relieved. "With you people, it's always a toss-up. I used to think Dana got good rates at the emergency room out of professional courtesy. Now I know it's a volume discount!" He laughed at his own joke. "So is dinner still on tomorrow? Sharon and I are looking forward to it." "Sharon. . . " Mulder repeated, more confused than ever. "She says to say hello, Mulder," Skinner said, echoing what a woman's voice was saying to him in the background. "And she'll call Dana tomorrow to see if we can bring anything. I'll see you tomorrow. 'Night, Mulder." Mulder pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it blankly. "What's wrong, Mulder?" Scully asked anxiously. He looked at her, his face expressionless. "They got him too, Scully," he said shaking his head. "Either that, or one of us is hallucinating. Or both of us. I don't know." He snapped the phone off and placed it on the nightstand behind him with a bang. Then he laid back, his arms folded under the back of his head and sighed loudly. "What the hell is going on?" Scully decided to show him the journal she'd been reading and he flipped through the pages with interest. Then he noticed a built-in bookshelf next to a settee in the window and went over to it quickly. There was an entire shelf of journals just like the one Scully had been reading. "Let's see what we have here," he said, grabbing a half dozen and returning to the bed. He plopped them down between him and Scully and they both set about reading the story of their lives. "Here's the part about how we met," Mulder said in a few minutes. "I mean how 'they' met. It was after you graduated from the Academy. And I was working in VCU for Reggie Perdue, who reported to Skinner." He looked up. "He was our Section Chief when I worked for Reggie. That part's true," he said, nodding. "According to this, Skinner put you and me together on a case. Serial murders in Indiana. Hey, I did work on that case! I wrote a profile as a favor for Reggie Purdue after I'd left the team." "And I worked on it, too, Mulder," Scully answered. "I did some forensic work. Not the autopsies. Some research afterwards on 'what if' scenarios. But we never met. . . ." "We did according to this! One thing led to another," he said as he flipped through more pages. "And then . . . Oh! I 'knocked you up'. . . ." He gave her a smile that was positively evil. Scully clucked at his wicked grin and grabbed the book out of his hands. "That can't be true. I would never let that hap-" She stopped speaking suddenly but continued to read. He had been telling the truth, although the words the other Dana had chosen were immensely different than the ones Mulder had just used. The pregnancy had been unplanned, but the woman who wrote the news in her journal was very much in love, and happy at the discovery she was expecting Fox Mulder's child. Scully swallowed very quietly, not wanting Mulder to see the thought of having a child, having his child, had such a profound effect on her. It was something that could never happen now that she was sterile but she was surprised at the visceral response the thought engendered. But there was no point in crying over spilt milk, as far as Scully was concerned. She suppressed the feeling violently and read on. "Well here's something different. It seems they couldn't get married right away because 'Fox' was already married to someone else. And 'Dana' didn't know about it until she was pregnant! He had to track his ex-wife down to get a divorce and that took months." She looked up, a half-smile on her face. "You married! This must be an alternate universe!" Mulder looked blankly at her but the color that had risen in his face was a clue Scully couldn't miss. "Mulder? What's wrong?" she asked slowly. Then it hit her. "You've been married? Are you telling me you've . . been . . married? And all these years, you never thought to mention it?" Mulder opened his mouth once, then closed it again without answering. He gave Scully a helpless shrug and shook his head, as if he didn't know how that could have happened either. "Who-- when? Why . . . ?" Scully sputtered for a second, then Mulder got up from the bed and headed into the master bathroom. He undid his tie as he went. "I think I need a shower," he called over his shoulder. Scully watched him shut the door behind him and then the water turned on immediately. "I think you're gonna need traction," she muttered, settling back against the pillows to read the rest of 'their' story. What she read simply stunned her. "Diana Fowley?" she muttered, hoping this was a piece of information that was totally out of sync with her and Mulder's true reality. But something in her gut told her this was one of those 'coincidences' that would prove true. Like the serial killer case in Indiana. According to the journal, Fox finally located Diana in Europe and she resisted his request for a divorce at first. But finally, the piece of paper was obtained and a hastily arranged wedding took place at a local hotel. She glanced at the closed bathroom door and wondered how long a shower Mulder was going to take. However long it was, he'd find her waiting when he finally emerged. And that happened a few minutes later. Mulder opened the door and stepped out tentatively, a navy blue towel wrapped around his waist. "Am I sleeping on the couch?" he asked, trying to appear casual and failing miserably. "Mulder," Scully sighed impatiently. "Put some clothes on and get over here. We need to talk." The other agent hesitated and surreptitiously scanned the room, looking for something. "Where's your gun, Scully?" She gave him a look that made his blood turn to ice and he headed quickly for the walk-in closet he'd scouted earlier. There were sweats and pajamas in a couple of the drawers that obviously belonged to the other Mulder. He pulled out a pair of sweat pants and put them on. The storm outside was picking up again and the house fairly crackled from the lightning that seemed to be hitting just outside the windows. "Mommy!" a voice called from down the hall, then it grew louder and more terrified. Mulder peeked his head out from the closet to see Katie running into the bedroom, crying. She jumped onto the bed and buried herself in Scully's arms. "I'm scared! Make it stop!" she wailed to his surprised partner. A rumble of thunder that sounded like it would split the heavens open followed and a moment later Jason scrambled into the room and followed his sister into the big bed with Scully. A frightened wail could be heard from the bedroom next door. The storm had awakened little Ryan, too. Mulder stood motionless in the door to the closet as Scully continued to comfort the scared children at her sides. The unreality of the situation was rapidly catching up with him and having no real theory to advance annoyed and discomfited him. "Mulder!" Scully said, capturing his attention at last. His head snapped in her direction. "What?" "Get the baby, Mulder," she answered firmly. She'd rarely seen him so unable to figure out what to do next. Here was a man who could easily cope with flukemen and mutants and shape-shifting aliens but this mundane domesticity had him stumped. He hesitated another second, then went out of the room for a minute, returning with Ryan. The baby was sniffling but he'd laid his head in the crook of Mulder's neck and had thrown an arm over the agent's shoulder. Mulder's eyes were wide with what looked like terror and Scully had to work to keep from telling him how much he resembled the two scared kids right at that moment. He approached the bed and sat on the edge where he laid the little boy down and pulled the covers up over him. "I'll go find . . . a couch somewhere," he said hopefully. "Mulder," Scully said evenly. "Get in this bed." "It's not that I haven't hoped to hear those words from you, Scully," he answered, trying to look like he was teasing her. "But under the circumstances--" "Get . . . in . . . this . . . bed," Scully said, her words ground out between firmly locked teeth. "I won't be able to sleep," Mulder grumbled as he followed her directive. He slid the now slumbering Ryan over and climbed in next to him. "I can never sleep in a crowd . . . " "Well on the surface, one of us should be better qualified to cope with this situation," she answered as she turned off the light on the table beside the bed. "I'd say that's the one of us who's already been married . . . ." Mulder laid down on his side of the bed, barely breathing in an effort not to do or say anything that would further irritate his partner. "This is gonna get ugly," he muttered to himself as he tried to find a comfortable position amid small arms and legs jutting in all directions from the center of the bed. "And I'll never be able to sleep like this . . . ." A beautiful golden morning dawned some seven hours later and found the five people in the bed still sleeping. The children began to rouse and Scully opened her eyes in response. She was struggling to get her bearings and anchor herself in reality. At least what passed for reality at the moment. As she feared, the nightmare of the evening before was continuing. Although it looked less like a nightmare in the light of day. Mulder was asleep, snoring lightly on the other side of the bed, and Katie had somehow managed to work her way over to his side. She had an arm thrown loosely around his neck. Jason moved in his sleep. Scully could see he was close to waking and he murmured something unintelligible and stretched his arms over his head. And Ryan was already wide awake, hazel eyes lit by a recognizable Mulder grin that nearly brought her heart to a stop. "Mama," the baby said, then he giggled at her. Scully reached out and pulled the baby into her arms, a solid lump forming in her throat, then she rose from the bed with him. "I think you need to be changed," she whispered and the child laughed again. It warmed her heart in a way she'd never felt before. "Well, unlike your . . . father," she told him as she cast a backward glance at her sleeping partner, "you obviously know how the meaning of 'rise and shine,' don't you, sunshine?" In a few minutes both of the other children had followed her and she took them downstairs and began to make breakfast. It seemed an unreal and bizarre thing to do under the circumstances and yet, on another level, it was exactly what she felt she should be doing. The strange sense of disconnected reality she'd gone to bed with continued, diminishing slightly when she focused on the moment alone. So that's what Scully decided to do for the time being. She set about making pancakes for the children. Coming slowly out of sleep, Mulder felt something strange on the side of his face. It was breathing, soft and warm, and then he heard someone speak. "Do you think he's awake yet?" a child's voice whispered. Mulder's eyes popped open. "Are you awake?" Jason whispered. "I-- I don't know," he answered honestly. "Why are we whispering?" "Because we're not supposed to disturb you," the child whispered back. Mulder felt his headache of the night before begin to make its presence known again around the edges of his consciousness. "Where's Scully?" he asked as he sat up in the bed. "Who?" Jason asked. Katie stood beside him, also dressed in pajamas. But she hadn't said a word yet. "Scul-- I mean, Mommy. Where's Mommy?" Mulder finally asked. "Making brefast," Katie told him definitively. "Don't forget my soccer game today," Jason added. Mulder felt his headache come on like gangbusters. "What time?" he asked the boy, trying to buy some information. "I dunno," the child answered. "Oh, good," the FBI agent responded as he carefully slid out of the bed between his two observers. Nature was calling him and he made his way to the bathroom. As he reached behind him to shut the door, he nearly clocked Jason with it. The boy had followed him into the bathroom. "Um, excuse me but I--" Mulder began only to be ignored by the child as he went and took a seat on the tile enclosure around the bathtub. "Is Uncle Walter coming to my game today, too?" Jason asked. He didn't appear to be the least bit embarrassed, or disturbed that the door had nearly flattened him. Mulder sighed and reached back to close the door once again before Katie decided to join them. Then he went about his business, trying to maintain the conversation with the six- year-old at the same time. The situation left him feeling at less than his conversational best. "Uncle who?" he asked, confused. "Uncle Walter. After you play golf. Then he comes to my game usually." The boy looked at him curiously. "Golf?" Mulder responded numbly as he flushed the toilet. He'd played a few times in his life but-- "Mulder!" Scully called from behind the bathroom door. It opened and she stuck her head in "Oh, great. More spectators! Did you people ever hear the word privacy?" Mulder grumbled. "I mean bums at Pennsylvania Station have smaller audiences--" "Mulder!" Scully cut him off. "Skinner's here! He says he's picking you up to, are you ready for this? To play--" "Golf," Mulder responded authoritatively as the pieces all clicked into place. He was playing golf with the AD. What the hell else could happen? "Well, what are you gonna do, Mulder?" Scully asked. She didn't want to say any more, not with the wide-eyed Jason watching and catching every word. "First I'm gonna shave. Alone," he added emphatically. "Then I'm gonna get dressed and go play golf. Maybe I can pick Skinner's brain and find out what the hell is going on here. And where the hell 'this' is! And if not, maybe I'll get beaned by a golf ball and get knocked back to reality!" Scully pursed her lips together. She hiked the baby higher onto her hip and reached out to guide the six-year-old out of the bathroom. "Well, you damn well better not go without me!" she said as she closed the door behind her. ************************************************************ Village Green Potomac, Maryland 2:02 p.m. Mulder alighted from Walter Skinner's car and sauntered toward the soccer field. He immediately picked out Scully standing on the sidelines talking with some people. She had Ryan in a stroller. He walked up beside her and waited for her to disentangle herself from her conversation. "Well, I found out exactly nothing that will help," Mulder told her concisely when she joined him. "Skinner doesn't think anything strange is going on. He thought I was hilarious today when I suggested the possibility of an alternate universe. Doesn't buy Einstein's theory at all. And he never heard of the X-files either. And neither did the Director or the Assistant Attorney General." Scully's eyebrows rose at this information and she silently requested more information. She definitely wanted to know about his `alternate universe' theory. But first, there was something more curious she wanted to know. "The other half of our foursome," Mulder answered her unspoken question as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I lost fifty bucks on the game, by the way. I'm a little rusty." "The Director gambles on golf . . . ?" Scully whispered. But she was unable to get any more information as Assistant Director Walter Skinner walked up to them and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Hi, Dana," he said with an easy smile she was certain she'd never seen before. "And how's my godson?" He squatted down and gave Ryan a kiss on the forehead, then he proceeded to make some kind of baby small talk with the boy. Scully and Mulder exchanged a look of amazement and sidled off a few feet away. "What did you find out?" Mulder asked her under his breath. "What did I find out?" she asked him incredulously. "I've fed and bathed three kids, done a load of laundry and begun preparing for a dinner party for fourteen people that will begin in--" she checked her watch, "less than six hours. I hardly had time to continue the investigation while you were out playing . . . golf with various Justice Department muckety-mucks. And by the way. . . " She pulled a baseball cap out of the carrier on the back of the stroller and put it on his head. "You're the assistant coach of Jason's soccer team." Before he could respond Mulder was called over by the head coach, a short, round man named Leroy Kilcommon. It was immediately clear to him which coach did the running around the field, Mulder realized. The game took an hour, and Jason's team was beaten soundly. But the kids didn't seem to mind. It turned out six-year-olds were more focused on the ice cream stop at the end of the game anyway. Mulder and Skinner went with the kids while Scully headed home, intent on getting preparations for dinner going. She had tried to get the two men to take both Ryan and Katie, arguing that she needed the peace and quiet to work. Mulder fended off her suggestion with respect to the baby but Katie immediately grabbed his hand and wouldn't take no for an answer. When he arrived back at the house an hour later, he found Scully deep in preparations for dinner. Two women were there, one looked about the age of a college student, the other was an older woman. Jason and Katie shouted when they saw her. "Mrs. K! You came back!" "Well of course I came back," the woman responded cheerfully, giving them both big hugs and kisses. "I told you I would! And I brought you presents . . . ." Mulder watched the three of them leave to go into to foyer, then he nodded for Scully to join him in the family room. "Who's that?" he asked when she followed him. "Apparently that's our `housekeeper,' Mulder," Scully answered. "She wasn't due back until Monday but she knew about the dinner party and wanted to help. And that girl is her neighbor. She's going to stay and help serve tonight, along with Mrs. K. . . . We apparently throw a heckuva dinner party." Mulder stared at her blankly. "That'll be good to see. I've never had a dinner party in my life." "There's a wine cellar in the basement, Mulder," Scully told him as she turned to return to the kitchen.. "Perhaps you could choose something that will go well with veal scallopine." Mulder's eyebrows rose. "This house doesn't come with a wine steward?" he asked sarcastically. "I want to go home." He and Scully exchanged a look that was layered with humor, bemusement and a truth they couldn't quite grasp firmly. This situation was still chillingly bizarre but the fact was, it was a temptingly good life their counterparts in this universe led. If it was indeed an alternate reality they'd fallen into. The dinner party was a great success as a social event but it provided no additional information about their predicament. Or how they would go about `getting home again.' Lying in the big bed at just past one in the morning, Scully glanced over at the man beside her. He was deep in thought, flipping through the address book they'd found, and she supposed his mind was turning over possibilities and theories. Hers was in a different place. She tried to keep her focus on the need to get back to their real lives but other things intruded. Like knowing the three children would be up at the crack of dawn. And there was more laundry to do. And a note in the calendar about brunch plans with Mulder's parents tomorrow. She'd found a postcard in her datebook that they Mulders sent from Europe a few weeks earlier. They had returned home earlier in the week and were coming to spend a few days with their son and his family now. "There's a listing for Samantha Mulder here," her partner told her suddenly. "In Boston. A work number and a home address and phone number." He glanced up at her and the look on his face betrayed his roiling emotions. "There's also one for Melissa. It's under `Scully' but it's cross- referenced to the name `Morgan.' And the address is in San Francisco." Scully nodded thoughtfully. "Melissa always loved the West Coast. That doesn't surprise me. . . ." Mulder put the book down on the bed and leaned closer to her. "Scully, listen to me," he said intently. "This isn't . . . real. This is some kind of hallucination or . . . we've been drugged and tricked. . . . Or it really is some kind of alternative universe! I don't know which, but it's not real." Scully's eyes snapped to his and the color rose in her cheeks. "I know it's not real, Mulder," she said quickly. "It's just . . . that it seems so real. And I can't figure out whether it's my hallucination. . . . or yours." They went to sleep together in the master bedroom again. Scully realized anything else would upset the children and the bed was big enough they could both sleep without even feeling the other one. It was a little disconcerting but . . . . they managed to sleep undisturbed. First thing the next morning Mulder drove into D.C., to see if he could find any information at the J. Edgar Hoover Building. He returned a few hours later none the wiser. Except that he'd run into Ed Carney, who was the Special Agent on Duty that Sunday. "He got a big kick out of my `X-Files idea,' he said," Mulder griped. "Thought it was an `idea whose time had come.' A unit that investigates the paranormal! He even shared the idea with the guards. They think I should take up a career in stand-up comedy!" "Well you have to admit it is . . . weird, Mulder," Scully answered him as she put a steak in marinade sauce. "The first time I heard about the X-Files, I had a similar reaction . . . ." Mulder grimaced. "Well, that's nice to hear, Scully," he called back sourly. "My life work's a big joke. I'm gonna go shower and change. The only thing that could actually make this day worse is seeing my folks." "Mulder, that's not what I meant . . ." she called after him but he ignored it and headed up the stairs. Scully sighed loudly, and shook her head. She had been thrilled beyond words to see her father alive. She thought Mulder would feel the same. Clearly that was not the case. The Mulder grandparents arrived bearing lots of gifts for the family from their months abroad. About an hour after they arrived, the Scully's appeared, having been invited to brunch, too. They sat on the back patio and Dana and her mother dished up a feast that kept everyone busy for a while. Washed down with Mimosas and Bloody Mary's, the meal was a big success. "Dana, you never cease to amaze me," Teena Mulder told her later as she helped clear the table. "Three kids. Your medical practice. And Fox . . . who I know is a handful all by himself! And you still manage to cook like this . . . !" Dana blushed with pride and embarrassment. "Well, I don't cook like this often," she began before remembering she didn't `cook' at all really. Except for the occasional tossed salad for herself. It worried her that she was already beginning to confuse realities. Her father was out on the back lawn, swinging Katie on the playset at the end of the yard. Fox and his father were sitting on the patio, finishing their drinks. Mulder found the moment awkward. He and his father had never been close. They'd rarely had a conversation in his life, he thought dismally. "Well, it's good to be home," Bill Mulder was saying. "Travel is fine but I was ready to come back a few weeks ago. We stopped in Boston on the way back, you know." Mulder's eyebrows rose. The only thing he knew about Boston, in this reality at least, was that's where Samantha lived. He'd been thinking about taking a short trip to see her, if he could afford to take a break from trying to find a way back to his and Scully's real lives. "Saw your sister. I swear, hard as I try, I just can't get used to it, Fox," Mr. Mulder sighed. "Living with that woman. Now they want to go through some kind of `marriage ceremony.' I-it's breaking your mother's heart. And I just can't stand seeing it." Mulder stared at him, fighting hard to keep his mouth from hanging open. Samantha was gay? Is that what he was saying? "God knows we want her to be happy but . . . it's hard, that's all. Thank God for you, son. Otherwise your mother and I would never have gotten any grandchildren. We'd never be able to hold our heads up in public. I hear things are going very well at the Bureau. An old friend at State tells me you're on the short list for the next Assistant Director opening, son. I-I'm very proud of you, you know, Fox. Very proud." Mulder's mouth was hanging open by this time, despite his resolve. And tears stung the back of his eyes. But his father didn't seem to notice. He rose and clapped him on the back, then headed out to the swing set to help Mr. Scully push his grandchildren. "Mulder?" Scully interrupted him a moment later. He dropped his eyes, not wanting her to see the tears that threatened to brim over. He cleared his throat. "Yo!" "Mulder, are you okay? You didn't hear us calling you-" "I was just-thinking, that's all. What can I do for you?" "Skinner's on the phone. There's a meeting in the morning he needs you for. . . ." Mulder rose and began to walk into the kitchen, then he turned back and whispered to Scully. "My Dad just told me Samantha's gay," he said conspiratorially, needing to share the revelation. "No kidding?" Scully responded. "Well, I can top that. In this universe, my brother Bill got kicked out of the Navy! He's an insurance salesman!" Mulder couldn't help himself, he smiled. "So it's not all `perfect' here, huh, Scully?" He turned and headed into the house, grinning at the thought of Billy Scully selling insurance. Door to door, he hoped. Dana looked around the lush, green backyard, at her father and Mulder's father playing with the three kids by the playset under the trees. An evening breeze blew over the lilac bush at the end of the yard and the scent of the flowers hung tantalizingly in the air. "No. . . but it's pretty damn close," Scully whispered. Then she looked around guiltily, trying to make certain no one else had heard her thoughts before heading back inside. Days passed and their lives fell into a routine of sorts. Scully took to the work she did at NIH like a duck to water, Mulder thought. She seemed to thrive in the atmosphere of professional camaraderie and was one of three physicians involved in a study that might provide a breakthrough in the tracking of the Hanta virus. They were set to deliver their findings at an AMA conference in Boston the following month. She was excited each evening at dinner as she filled him in on the progress of the paper, and the comparative information that was coming in from other sites around the world. Scully wasn't able to provide as much assistance with their current predicament as Mulder would have liked but between her own work and the kids, her days were full. But she did listen and help him vet his ideas and sift through his research in whatever spare time she could carve out. And Mulder had fallen into a routine of sorts at the FBI. He had enough latitude in his daily work with BSU to spend a few hours researching alternate realities, and talking to people about the concept of parallel universes. "The idea is that a single event, a choice, a random happening, creates a branch in the time line, Scully," he was telling her over a cup of coffee and a piece of apple crumb pie. The kids were asleep upstairs and they had moved into the family room. Scully had asked him to build a fire while she cleaned up the kitchen. Now they had both settled back and he had time to bring her up to date on the time theory he'd heard about from a professor at Duke University. "I know about that, Fox," she replied thoughtfully. "It's all based on Einstein's theories of relativity. Time constantly branches off into multiple tributaries, if you will, each one in turn generating infinite additional branches. But does the professor have any ideas we can apply to our current situation?" Mulder's ear had noted that she called him `Fox.' He'd noticed she was doing that more and more lately. People had been teasing them both about their `sudden' change to Mulder and Scully. I guess Scully decided a change would call less attention to them being out of place. Not that anyone had noticed they were out of place yet. "No," he sighed, taking a sip of coffee. "I'm afraid Professor Botkin doesn't think there's any real life application for his theories. I posed a `hypothetical' question to him about what happened to us but he only asked me if I was writing a science fiction novel or something." Scully nodded. She'd suspected as much. They sank into a companionable silence for a minute or so, then she spoke again. "Before I forget, tomorrow is Jason's school night. He's very excited. You'll be able to come home early, won't you?" Her question pushed a button inside that made him explode. "Scully, I hate to keep saying this but . . . we're not really their parents, you know. This is all . . . not real!" His partner blushed furiously. "I know that, Mulder," she replied hotly. "But for the time being, we're all they've got. And . . . they're as close to ours as any human beings on the face of the earth could be. They've got our blood, our DNA-" "Not ours, Scully! Someone else's! People who look like us but . . . . " He stood up and began pacing. "I just have to say it. I don't know who you are half the time any more! I-I feel like I'm the only one trying to get us back-" Scully was stung by his words. And even more so by the fact he'd felt compelled to say them. "Fox-" "No! You keep calling me that like . . . like we're really . . . . You know!" he yelled. "We can't get . . . comfortable here, Scully. We don't belong here. This-- this isn't our home. Those aren't our kids. These are not our lives!" He shook his head violently, then he turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed his jacket off a hook near the back door and pulled it on quickly. "Mulder! Where are you going?" Scully called as she followed him into the kitchen. "Please, we have to talk-" "No, Scully," he said bitterly. "I-I have to get out of here. . . . I'm going for a drive to clear my head." "When will you be back?" "I-I don't know," he replied, turning back. He looked directly at her and the look on his face chilled her. "Don't wait up," he said. Then he slammed the door behind him. She did wait, a couple of hours, but he didn't return. Finally, at nearly 2 a.m., she fell into bed, into a worried, restless sleep. It struck her as she was drifting into sleep that the bed felt huge and cold and lonely without him. And that the other Dana had written words to that effect in her diary not long before. Mulder drove around for hours, stopping once at an all-night diner for a cup of coffee. Then he drove past his old apartment in Alexandria, stopping for a while to stare at the building. He'd been there before, just after they `arrived' in this time line. His old apartment was occupied by a couple, students at American University in DC. Many of the other tenants were people he knew and recognized from his apartment building but they, of course, didn't know him. This night he drove over to Skinner's apartment building in Crystal City, too. It looked exactly the same. Only the doorman had never heard of Walter Skinner. Mulder got back in his car and drove some more. He went to Scully's old apartment building and sat staring at it for a while before turning the car back on and driving some more. Finally, at just before four in the morning, he found himself back at the house where he'd left Scully. He pulled the car into the driveway, realizing he had no place else to go. He entered the house silently, not certain what to do next. He was still angry at Scully, at her apparent willingness to make herself at home here. It wasn't like her to just accept such a preposterous and unbelievable thing as a possibility, let alone reality. Yet she seemed to be coping, far better than he, with the idea that they had actually `jumped' time lines. And might be stranded here for good. He sat alone in the living room for a while, staring out the window. There was a full moon and it lit the sprawling front lawn almost as if it were day. There was a car passing and Mulder realized suddenly that he'd seen it before. It didn't belong to a neighbor as far as he knew but it was in the area often. He raced to the front door but when he opened it, the car was gone. It hadn't been moving very fast but . . . it had somehow disappeared out of sight in the space of a couple of seconds. He closed the door again and heard a sound from upstairs. It was Ryan. Mulder slipped off his sneakers quickly and left them on the first step of the staircase. Then he climbed the stairs two at a time and strode quickly toward the baby's room. The last thing he needed was for the entire house to be up before dawn. "How ya doin', little guy?" he whispered to the baby when he entered. The child was standing in his crib and he lifted the boy into his arms. "Shhh. Don't want to wake the entire household, right pal?" He realized immediately that the boy's diaper was wet and carried him over to the changing table. Hard as it was for him to believe, he'd actually grown proficient at this operation in the past weeks. "Let's get you into some dry clothes, okay?" he continued. "I'd be pretty cranky, if I was you." The baby grabbed a tube of lotion off the table top and proceeded to suck on the cap until Mulder removed it, substituting a teething ring. "There, that's better isn't it?" he said softly as he finished dressing the baby in a dry onesy with feet. "Ready to go back to sleep?" But the boy didn't seem to want to go back into the crib right away and Mulder still didn't want the baby waking everyone else. He took a seat in the rocking chair and the child folded himself into his shoulder as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural, the agent thought suddenly. And the child in his arms felt like . . . like a little extension of himself, from the color of his hair, to his questioning hazel eyes. The baby stared up at him and Mulder felt like he was looking into a tiny, mirror image of himself. This is what it is to touch immortality, he realized with a jolt. To know something of you will survive long after you're gone. "Lucky for you, you haven't gotten your Dad's nose, kid," he whispered, giving the baby a kiss on the forehead. "Yet. There's still hope you'll inherit Mom's." Then he began rocking and in a moment, he was humming the tune of an Elvis song. He couldn't remember a single thing that could be considered a lullaby but the tune of `I Can't Help Falling In Love With You' seemed to work just fine for Ryan. The baby watched him curiously for a little while, then his eyes began to flutter and soon he was asleep. Mulder considered putting the baby down in his crib but then he thought better of it. He'd let him get to sleeping a little more deeply before moving him and risking the possibility of waking him again. He shifted the baby into a more comfortable position and went on humming softly. Until he saw Scully standing in the doorway. She was leaning on the doorframe, dressed in a white cotton nightgown and a matching robe, a strange half-smile on her face. He looked at her questioningly but she didn't say a word. Finally, the silence got the better of him. "Am I the biggest idiot in the world, Scully?" he whispered. Her eyes lit with amusement and . . . something else. "No, Mulder," she said softly. "Not the biggest . . ." He closed his eyes momentarily, blinking back tears, then he rose and went to the crib, gently laying the baby down and covering him with a soft cotton blanket. "They're so . . . helpless," he said quietly, staring down at the sleeping child. "And perfect, Scully. I just hope . . . I don't do anything to screw it up for them." Scully's eyes widened as this new bit of knowledge clicked into place. "You won't, Mulder. All . . . parents have those feelings." "And look how many screwed up grown-ups there are in the world," he snorted as he turned to her. He put his hands out as though presenting himself for inspection. "Prime example number one-" "I don't think you're screwed up," she responded. "I . . . never have. I just think you- and I, we made some decisions. . . . some choices that are regrettable in retrospect. And by some crazy, mixed-up, unexplainable series of unlikely events, we've gotten a chance to see how it might have been different. And try it on for size. I can't explain it, Mulder. There's no science that could but . . . . I don't think we should turn our backs on the truth just because it falls into the category of `extreme possibility.' Mulder's eyes snapped to hers and he bit back a smile. She was using his own words, spoken many times and in many different circumstances, against him. He knew it and he didn't blame her. It was a trick he'd used to good end often himself. As he watched her in the half-light from the lamp in the hall, Scully offered her hand, silently urging him to take it. "Come to bed, Mulder," she whispered. The last brick in his wall of resistance tumbled and he reached for her. She took his hand, then stepped fully into his chest. His arms instinctively rose to hold her and he laid a soft, lingering kiss on the top of her hair. "Remember when I was drugged up in that hospital in Florida, Scully? After the Bermuda Triangle thing? And I-" "I was just thinking about that earlier, Mulder," she replied. "I mean, you've had experience with at least one or two alternate universes in your time. Why is this one so hard to accept?" He chuckled despite himself. "That's a good question but . . . can we get back to what I was saying, Dana?" Now it was Scully's turn to laugh. In using her first name, he'd taken a giant step forward and she rewarded him for it. The sound warmed his heart and he gently ushered her across the hall toward the master bedroom. "My point was, you thought I was drugged up and out of my head but . . . I really wasn't, you know." Scully held her breath as he closed the door behind them. His earlier awkwardness had returned, just barely, and now he stood slightly apart from her, his arms at his sides, waiting for her to respond. But somehow the words didn't come. "I love you," he said finally, his gaze flicking to catch hers, then returning to the floor between them. "I know," she whispered. "I guess-I guess I've always known. I was just too afraid to find out everything that might come with that." He knew how hard such an admission was for her so he gathered her into his arms and kissed her fully on the lips in return for it. Scully melted into his embrace, feeling as though time had come to a standstill and all was right with the world. Suddenly he pulled back slightly. He gave her a provocative smile that lit the fire within her. "Care for a demonstration of what you get with that, Mrs. Mulder?" *********************************************************** Three weeks later Potomac, Maryland Saturday afternoon It had been raining all day and Scully was anxious to get the kids out of the house. A new Disney movie seemed like the perfect distraction for the house-bound children and she was pleased when Fox suggested it first. They'd see the late afternoon show, then have pizza for dinner. By the time they returned, the kids would be ready for bed. Fox was in the front yard picking up some branches that had blown off their neighbor's tree and lodged themselves all along the driveway. He had on a green rain slicker and little Jason was beside him, dressed in exactly the same outfit but in a much smaller size-and bright yellow. The front door was open and she could hear the two of them giggling about something. She went to the door to see what was going on and as she did, she saw Fox stand straight up, as though he were looking at something in the street. But nothing was there, she was certain of it. He shooed the boy back into the house, then walked down the driveway to the street. Dana could see him looking up and down, shaking his head slightly at something. Then he turned and walked back up the drive. He picked up the last of the branches and deposited them in the trashcans by the garage, then he entered the house through the garage. "What were you looking for?" she asked as soon as he came into the kitchen. He stared at her, obviously confused and uncertain. "I-I keep seeing this car. Late model sedan, like a Bureau car. Like my car actually. But it never stops, it just passes. And-here's the really odd thing. It just disappears, Dana. It doesn't drive away, it's just there. And then it isn't." She gave him a skeptical sideways glance. "Are you sure? I haven't seen anything like that-" "Daddy! When are we going to the movies?" Katie demanded from the doorway. Her blue eyes flashed with impatience and he was struck by how she resembled her mother. "You said we were gonna go to the movies!" "And I meant it," he said as he grabbed her and threw her over his head. The child giggled heartily. "Why don't you go get ready?" When she left, he turned back to Dana. "No, I'm not sure," he said slowly. "I can never get a good glimpse of it. It's like a-a ghost car or something." "Have you been reading too much Stephen King?" Scully teased him. "Very funny," he replied in kind. He headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to change. "You know I don't read that stuff. Too scary. . . !" They returned almost five hours later. The movie had been good, then they met Walter and Sharon Skinner at the pizza place for dinner. The other couple had no children of their own and they took a vicarious pleasure from spending time with the Mulder kids. Walter had suggested the restaurant because it had an indoor amusement area and he had spent a good hour with Jason and Katie playing various games and going through the haunted house three separate times. "I don't want to think about how much Walter spent on tickets for rides and stuff today," Dana said as they pulled into the driveway. It had rained heavily for hours and was tapering off now as dusk fell. But a thick fog had followed and there was a rolling thunder in the distance that told her more was coming. "I know. But he enjoys it," Fox replied. He glanced in the rear view mirror. All three of the kids were sleeping soundly. "It's a shame he and Sharon never had any." "She told me they tried a long time," Dana said. "But it just never happened. She said it took her years to be comfortable around other people's kids and ours are the first. I can . . . . understand how she feels." Mulder put the car into "Park" and turned to the woman beside him. He knew she could understand, having been robbed of this possibility in their other timeline. Suddenly, he was immensely grateful that this strange set of circumstances had allowed them to overcome that obstacle, however preposterous it was on the surface. He leaned over and kissed her. "What was that for?" she asked him, smiling. "I just felt like it," he replied. "Let's get the munchkins to bed and I'll show you what else I feel like." They got out of the car and Dana opened the back door on her side and began unbuckling the belt on the baby's car seat. Fox opened the other door and gently shook Jason awake. "Come on, buddy," he said. "Time to get up so you can go to bed." He reached across the reviving boy to unbuckle Katie's seatbelt and lifted her into his arms once Jason was out of the car. He closed the door and began to steer the half-asleep six-year-old toward the house. Then something at the foot of the driveway caught his eyes. There was a pea soup fog but he swore there was a car sitting at the end of the drive. "Dana!" he called over the car, jerking his head toward the street. "There it is! The car I told you about! Can you see it?" She turned toward the street, adjusting Ryan in her arms as she did. "Yes. It's there! Who do you think it is?" As she spoke the car doors both opened and people got out. A man and a woman. They ran up the driveway and came to a stop about halfway, as though there were an invisible glass barrier blocking them from proceeding. "Oh, my God!" the woman cried. "Fox! It's them!" Scully's head swiveled to look at Mulder beside her. "Fox? Do you know her?" He had circled around the front of the car and was now pushing Jason toward the front door. "Get inside, everybody," he said in his best `Dad' voice, trying to move them along without scaring the kids. Scully pushed them along but a little part of her brain noted how natural that tone of voice sounded. It shocked her every time she heard him use it. Now, though, the thought fled her mind as she continued to pull the sleepy kids into the house. "Come on, everybody," she cooed soothingly. "Let's get inside before it starts to rain again. . . ." "Please! Don't go!" the man in the driveway shouted. "We just need to talk to you! We need to see the children. . . . Please! We need to know they're all right!" Scully turned toward the driveway again. She knew that voice. It was-it was Mulder's voice! "Take the kids inside," the Mulder beside her was saying. "Let me-let me talk to them." "Be careful," she called, confused and not certain what to do. Fox had placed Katie on her feet and now the little girl was leaning against Scully's side. She called to Jason to come in and in a moment they were all inside. Except for Mulder. He was slowly walking down the driveway. "Who are you?" he called ahead to the people waiting. "We might ask you the same thing," the man replied. As Mulder got closer, he could see the man looked exactly like him. And the woman was Scully. No doubt about it. His heart lurched as he realized these were the people with whom he and Scully had exchanged places. And the haggard look of their faces told him they had been suffering the loss of their lives. And their children. Suffering far worse than he and Scully had. "I-I wondered when you'd show up," he said slowly. "Would you like to come inside?" The other Mulder put an arm around his wife and she bit back a sob. "We don't seem to be able to . . . come any closer," he replied sadly. "In fact, this is the first time we've even been able to see you. Or the kids. Every other time, there was an elderly couple living here. Didn't know us. Said they'd lived her for twenty-five years." "We just kept coming back because . . . ," the Scully look- alike added, then her emotions got the upper hand and she sobbed. The other Mulder kissed the top of her head and pulled her tighter into his embrace. "Well, I guess we can't really explain it. It just seemed like the only thing to do." "I understand it," Scully said from behind Mulder, startling him. "I don't think I could walk away from your lives very easily." "Where are the kids?" Mulder asked her immediately. "Asleep. I left them all in our bed. We-we can get them put to bed properly later." "Are they all right?" the new Scully asked suddenly. "Have they . . . adjusted to. . . ." Her voice trailed off, not certain how to voice her concern. "Yes," Scully responded kindly. "For them, there wasn't a change, you see. I think they thought we were funny at first, pretending not to know them. . . . They're great kids." The other woman choked up and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. She used it to dab her eyes. "Thank you," she said simply. Thunder rolled immediately overhead and in a moment there was a fine mist hanging in the air. A crack of lightning illuminated the sky above them. "We should go inside-" Scully said as the dampness began to seep into her bones. "They can't, Scully," Mulder told her. "I think-I think we're inhabiting their space. I don't know why the two time lines have come so close together right now but I think this is the same kind of window we somehow came through before." There was an eerie glow in the sky that seemed to settle on the place where the four of them stood, awkwardly staring at each other. "Then we need to . . . vacate, Mulder," Scully said quietly. "They need to come home." Mulder looked at her and tears burned the back of his eyes. "Scully. . . . Dana. Why?" he whispered urgently. "I mean, we don't know for sure that it would all go back to the way it was before. The likelihood of it happening once is infinitesimally small. To think it would work again is . . . .crazy! And maybe this time, if it didn't work, the kids would be left alone. . . ." Scully blinked back tears of her own. She wasn't certain it would work either. But she was certain they needed to try. "Mulder," she said, choking back tears. "I know how you feel. I feel the same way. We love those kids. They're our kids. But we've only been with them a few weeks. Think-think how you'd feel if we'd given birth to them. Conceived them. Taken them home from the hospital as infants and nursed them through . . . . everything. You know what I mean. How can we deny them-" she gestured toward the two people in the driveway. "How can we sentence them to living with our decisions and choices? And be happy stealing their lives?" Mulder's eyes darted around, as though he were searching for another option, or a rationalization to counter hers. But none came to him. Because there were none that would be sufficient. Finally he nodded. "You're right. I know you're right," he breathed, his voice breaking. He turned to the other couple. "If we could just go back inside and say goodbye . . . ." But a split of lightning hit the lawn beside them and the thunder rolled menacingly above them. The rain was beginning to come again and the two other people were there and then they weren't. Then in a flash of lightning they appeared once again. "I think we're running out of time," Scully said. "I think you're right," Mulder answered firmly. He took her hand and began to walk down the driveway. The other couple did the same thing. Another crack of lightning crashed into the lawn and suddenly Mulder and Scully were alone at the end of the driveway as the rain began to fall again. "Hello?" a man called from the open front door. He was a white-haired, elderly man. "Are you all right down there? Do you need help?" They were both speechless for a second, then Mulder got his wits about him. "No!" he called up. "We're . . . okay. Just had a little car trouble." "Do you want to come inside?" the man yelled. "It's getting worse again." "No! No, thank you," Mulder responded, certain he couldn't stand to see the inside of the house. It wouldn't the the home he'd known in recent weeks. "I- we'll just be on our way." The two of them lifted their coats over their heads and ran down toward the car. It was still running and it was Mulder's car. Right down to the tape in the cassette player and the pack of sunflower seeds on the console. They didn't speak as he put the car into gear and slowly pulled back out onto the road. They were familiar with these back roads now, from the recent weeks of living there and driving them. To work. To school. To soccer games and dance recitals. The silence between them deepened as they made their way to the highway and then onto Route 95. Despite the heavy rain they were in front of Scully's apartment in Georgetown in less than an hour. Mulder walked her to the door, wanting to see the name on the doorbell for himself, just to be certain. He'd already called Skinner and gotten an earful about his `attitude' over the last few weeks so he knew they were home. Still, Scully's name hadn't been there the last two times he visited the building and he wanted to see it for himself. To both their relief, today the name "D.K. Scully" appeared as it had for the past six years. "It's okay, Mulder," she said, using her key to open the front door. "I'll be all right from here." He nodded. "Can I . . . buy you a cup of coffee?" he asked hopefully. It didn't seem right to just walk away like this. "No," she responded quickly. "I-I think I need to be alone." His face reflected his concern and confusion. "I'm okay, Mulder," she repeated. "I'll . . . I'll talk to you tomorrow." She gave him a feeble attempt at a smile, then turned and headed into the building. She took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Then she let herself into her apartment. It felt strange to be back. Her heels clicked on the wooden floors and the echo returned to remind her she was alone. She'd barely ever been alone in recent weeks. Not working, not shopping, not cooking. Not sleeping. She shook off her growing ennui and went into the bedroom to change. She pulled out sweats and threw them on, then she toweled her hair until it was almost dry and combed it back. She pulled on a pair of warm, wool socks and padded into the kitchen to put on the tea kettle. And as she stood there, watching it, waiting, she made her decision. She'd spent far too much of this lifetime waiting. She picked up her phone and hit a speed dial button. "Mulder," he answered as soon as the phone rang. "It's me, Mulder," she said. "I-I was just thinking. . . . I was thinking that I don't really want to be alone anymore- " She stopped suddenly when someone knocked on her door. "Damn," she whispered, annoyance edging her voice. Then she strode toward the door. "Hold on, Mulder. Someone's at my door. She pulled it open and stood there for a second, tears brimming in her eyes. Then a slow smile crept over her face. Fox Mulder stood at her door, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He smiled at her and hit the `End' button on his phone, dropping his hand to his side. "I was thinking that it's time we made some new choices, Scully," he said. Her smile widened and she stepped into his arms, feeling as though she were going home for the first time in her life. "I was thinking the same thing," she answered softly. THE END