From: "Megan C" Date: Sun, 17 Sep 2000 10:52:14 +1000 Subject: Unspoken by Megan C Source: direct TITLE: unspoken AUTHOR: Megan C EMAIL: choirgirl@bond-girl.co.uk DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Krychek, Marita etc belong to our beloved Chris Carter and co, I just borrowed them for a little while. Any other characters unfamiliar to you I made up. I apologise to all you American citizens for my ignorance in the field of geography of the US. I made up most of the places *eg* RATING: PG-13 CLASSIFICATION: X,S,MSR (post requiem fic) SPOILERS: Requiem and probably a whole bunch of other stuff I can't remember SUMMARY: One little girl holds the key to all that Fox Mulder and Dana Scully have been searching for, for seven years. CONTAINS: Id Hannah XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX PART ONE: Id Id (n) - the part of the psyche which is the source of instinctive energy. "I am loosing my love of adventure I'm loosing all respect For me and myself tonight I wonder what happens if I get to The end of this tunnel And there isn't any light" "Wish I May" Ani Difranco ----------------------------------------------- CHAPTER ONE ----------------------------------------------- For seven years, I have followed you. For seven years, I have watched out for you, taken care of you, and loved you. No matter how many times you ditched me, leaving me to explain your actions to those above us, I followed you. Almost blindly, I followed you, and I will continue to follow you. I _will_ find you. Just as you found me, all those years ago. I will bring you back. I refuse to loose you. I've already lost so much. They've taken so much from me, I won't let them take you. You're never far from my mind. I never told you, but I love you. -- Wednesday Morning Annapolis, Maryland Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully stood in front of her bedroom mirror, running a brush through her hair. She straightened her shirt, and picked up her jacket from off the bed. She shrugged into it, and brushed it off. On the bureau lay a folder, marked with a telltale red X. She paused, and opened the cover. Clipped to a small stack of papers was a photograph. She took it out from under the paper clip, and studied it. It was the same photograph that was on his badge, in an evidence bag in the filing cabinet at the office. His expression was serious, and guarded. She searched for any sign of emotion behind the deep brown eyes. She found none. She put the photograph back into the folder, and picked up her briefcase. She walked to the door. With one last look back at the folder lying open on the bureau, she shut the bedroom door softly behind her. -- J.Edgar Hoover Building Washington, DC Scully checked her watch. If she hurried, she wouldn't be late for the meeting. She walked briskly down the hall, and stopped at a door with a gold nameplate. Assistant Director W. Skinner. She rapped on the door lightly, and opened it. Kimberly, the AD's secretary looked up. "Agent Scully! Good to see you back at work...He's waiting for you, go on in." Scully nodded her thanks, and knocked on the connecting door, and went in. The Assistant Director was seated behind his desk, leaning back in his chair. He was talking to a male agent. He looked up as Scully walked in. Her eyes flicked over the other man. She's seen him around, but couldn't put a name to the face. "Agent Scully. Take a seat," Skinner said, giving her the once over. Scully sat in the seat next to the other agent, and placed her briefcase on the floor. She folded her hands in her lap, and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Agent Scully, this is Special Agent Joshua Fraser. He's been assigned to work with you, during," he paused. "During Agent Mulder's absence." Scully turned to Special Agent Fraser, and shook the hand he offered. "Nice to meet you," she murmured, turning back to Skinner. He studied her reaction, and wasn't surprised there wasn't any reaction to speak of. Agent Fraser cleared his throat. "I've spent the last two days going over some of the more recent case files...the theories I found were certainly interesting." Scully ignored his arrogant tone of voice, and smiled thinly at him. "_Interesting_, Agent Fraser, is not the word I'd use." Skinner's eyes flicked back and forth between the two agents, watching the exchange. He shifted in his seat, and it creaked. Both agents turned to look at him. "You can go now, Agent Fraser. Agent Scully, I'd like a word with you." Fraser stood, and nodded at his superior and his new partner. Scully hardly glanced at him. He left the office, and nodded a greeting at Kimberly on the way out. As he waited for the elevator, he caught sight of his reflection in the metal doors. Tall, dark brown hair with a hint of curls, and hazel eyes. A typical, clean cut agent. He wondered who he'd pissed off to get stuck as the new Mr. Spooky. -- "Agent Scully. You're looking well." She nodded. "Thankyou sir." Skinner leaned back in his chair, and pushed a folder across the table to her. "I thought you might find this of some interest." She looked at him curiously, then flipped it open. It was an agent dossier. She'd seen them before. The photograph, though a few years old, was familiar. Scully glanced up at her superior, her eyes not hiding the questions she wanted to ask. Skinner adjusted his glasses. "I ran a background check on him. He came up clean. I'm showing you the same thing." Scully didn't know what to say. There was nothing _to_ say. She ran her eyes down the page. He'd started working for the FBI in 1991, he was born in 1962, making him 37. Up until now, he'd worked in the Violent Crimes Unit. She shut the folder, and pushed it back across the table, and stood up and turned to leave. "Agent Scully." She turned her head. "Take care of yourself." -- One week later When Scully reached the basement, the door to the office was partially open. Agent Fraser was sitting at the desk, a pile of papers in front of him. Both agents looked up as the overhead lights flickered. "It sure is spooky down here," Agent Fraser said absently, turning the page. Scully put her briefcase down on her desk, and helped herself to a pile of newer cases that were sitting in front of Agent Fraser. One case in particular caught her eye. Baltimore PD had filed it with the bureau. In the last three months, there had been three murders in the Baltimore area, all three victims related. Two by blood, one by marriage. They had all been killed the same way, through strangulation. Before her eyes flicked to the next paragraph, Scully wondered why this had been filed as an X-File. Her question was soon answered. All three victims were killed around 9pm, at least one witness in each case, and all were killed in the family home. No one saw the killer. She described the case to Agent Fraser, who regarded her skeptically. "What do you mean no one saw the killer? If there were witnesses to the murders, they would have seen the killer! It's not like a sniper killed them, they were strangled! Hand to neck contact." Scully looked at him carefully. "I have a theory." Agent Fraser nodded at her. "What if..." Scully said slowly. "What if these people were all killed by someone experiencing an OBE?" "An OBE?" "Out of body experience. It makes sense. No one saw the killer, yet there are hand marks on the victims necks." Fraser raised his eyebrows. "That's not a very...scientific...theory, Agent Scully." "In most of our work," she began, both of them knowing that by 'our' she was not referring to herself and Agent Fraser. "You will not find answers in the realm of science. However, there have been cases in which a person dreams they are killing someone, or doing something, and they wake up and they actually participated physically in the dream. OBEs are closely related to near death experiences. There have been a handful of documented cases noted in the X-Files. They go as far back as the second world war." Fraser leaned back in his chair, a hard glint in his eye. "I thought you were meant to be the rational one. Now I know why the call you Mrs. Spooky." He bent his head again, and went back to his work. Scully pushed her chair back abruptly. She picked up her jacket, and the case file. Fraser looked up, and rolled his eyes. "Look, Agent Scully. I was assigned to the X-Files, it wasn't a personal choice. I was perfectly content chasing rapists and serial killers - now I'm chasing invisible serial killers and little green men. If you think the case is worth investigating, we'll investigate it. I'm not going to hold you back." Scully folded her arms across her chest, and regarded him suspiciously. Fraser shrugged and stood up. "Let's go to Baltimore." -- Baltimore Police Department Headquarters Baltimore, Maryland Detective Harold Marshall handed Agent Scully a file. She opened it, and skimmed the contents. "That's all we have, after three months of investigation. It's pathetic. Either this guy is real good, or the family's hiding something." "You have three murder victims and no suspects?" Agent Fraser's tone was disdainful. Detective Marshall glanced at him. "That's what I said. The whole Bailey family could be counted as suspects...murderers usually know their victims, or have some sort of connection. I don't think these were random hits, considering the victims were related and strangled." Scully nodded. "Everyone present in the houses at the time of the murders have all been interviewed?" Detective Marshall nodded. "The stories all check out." Scully shut the file. "I'd like to take a look at the bodies." Agent Fraser paled noticeably. "I'll interview the witnesses again." Detective Marshall cleared his throat. "We only have the recent victim's body, one Arianne Bailey, the first victim, Jackson Bailey's second wife. The second victim was Jackson Bailey's brother. Her body hasn't been cremated yet." Scully nodded, and shook the Detective's hand. "Thanks for your help, Detective. We'll call you if we need anything else." Detective Marshall nodded, and said goodbye. Fraser followed Scully down the stone steps outside the building. "Baltimore PD is very sloppy," he noted. Scully shrugged. "They're baffled. It's why the filed the case with the FBI, and why the FBI marked it unexplained, and it became an X-File." Fraser shook his head. "The answers are there. You just have to know where to look." Scully stared at him, a wave of deja-vu rushing over her. "That's why they put the 'I' in FBI." -- Baltimore Morgue Maryland Scully switched her Dictaphone on. "I'll begin with the prelim physical exam," she said, snapping on the standard issue white latex gloves. "Subject is a white female, in her late fifties. I estimate her height to be around 170cm," Scully lifted the woman's dark hair off her neck. "Her neck is covered with red abrasions, obviously caused by a pair of strong hands," she matched her own fingers with the hand marks on the neck. They were almost a perfect match. "Suspect is probably around mid to late twenties, and extremely strong," she bent her head to examine the marks carefully. On one of the fingers, there was an imprint made on the woman's neck. It was in the same place a ring would be worn, and it was in the shape of an unintelligible insignia. Scully picked up a camera off the bench next to her, and got to work. -- 22 Rosedale Drive Baltimore, Maryland Special Agent Fraser shook Joe Bailey's hand. "Thankyou for your co operation, Mr. Bailey. We'll be in touch," he turned and walked to the car. He jumped as his cell phone rang. "Hello?" He opened the car door and threw his interview pad onto the passenger seat. He shut the car door, and started the engine. "It's Scully. I found something on Arianne Bailey's body." Fraser navigated the car into the traffic. "Are you still at the Morgue?" "No, I'm at the office. I have some photographs I wanted to take a closer look at. Did you get anywhere with the interviews?" Fraser glanced over at his interview pad. It was blank. -- J.Edgar Hoover Building Washington, DC Scully pressed the button that controlled the projector. Fraser stood at the back of the office, his arms folded. "This is a photograph of the first victim, one Jackson Bailey, aged 65. Cause of death was strangulation." Fraser stood impassively, his eyes taking in the autopsy photo. "And this," Scully continued. "Is a section of that photograph blown up." A section of the slide had been circled in red. Fraser walked closer, and strained his eyes. "Some sort of marking?" he asked. Scully flipped to the next slide. "The second victim, Frank Bailey," she flipped again. "And our friend Arianne Bailey." Fraser turned to look at Scully. "All that proves is that this was done by the same guy." Scully nodded, and showed him another slide. "This is the Bailey family insignia." Fraser looked at it. "I don't get it." Scully went back a slide, then forward to the insignia. She kept on doing it, until the meaning hit Fraser. "Okay, so they're the same. What's the deal?" "I think we need to talk to that family again," Scully said, turning off the projector. Fraser picked up the original photographs, that he noticed sitting on Scully's desk. Underneath them was a book, 'Dream Phenomena'. He picked it up. Scully had marked a page with a post it note. He looked up at her. "You still think someone is killing in their sleep?" Scully looked up from where she was packing up the slide projector. "I'm not ruling it out as a possibility." Fraser skimmed the first paragraph of the chapter Scully had marked. "This sounds like a theory Spooky Mulder would come up with." Scully didn't say anything. Fraser put down the book, and watched her put away the slides. "Agent Scully, if I may say so, I think you're trying to be too much like Agent Mulder. Your judgment is clouded." Finally, she glanced at him. "I'll see you back here bright and early tomorrow morning. I want to ask the Bailey's about the ring." She picked up her jacket, and tucked the Bailey case file into the pocket on the front of her briefcase. On her way out, she flicked off the lights, leaving Agent Fraser in darkness. "Sweet Dreams, Agent Fraser," she said, as she shut the door gently behind her. -- 11.21PM Scully lay in bed, staring at the clock. She watched as the glowing red numbers flicked to 11.22. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good nights sleep. Restless, she turned over, and stared at the wall. The ringing of the telephone shattered the overwhelming silence of the night, and she fumbled to answer it. "Scully," she mumbled, sitting up a bit. "Scully, it's me." For a brief moment, her heart stopped. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She almost said his name, but she bit her tongue. "Scully? You there?" "Who is this?" she asked finally. There was a pause. "Agent Fraser..." "Agent Fraser, it's the middle of the night. What do you want?" She pushed her back up against the headboard of her bed, and squeezed her eyes shut, the hand that wasn't holding the telephone pressing against her chest, trying to calm her heart. "There's been another murder." Suddenly awake and alert, Scully could hear the background noises filtering through. "Where are you?" "I'm at the house on Rosedale Drive. We have a suspect Scully, you better get down here." -- 22 Rosedale Drive Baltimore, Maryland 12.03AM Scully ducked under the bright yellow police line sticker, and a police officer held up a hand to stop her entering what she assumed was the kitchen. "Scully, FBI," she said, flashing her badge. He nodded at her, and let her go through. Fraser and Detective Marshall were standing near the stove. On the ground was a body, covered in a body sheet. A woman was sitting at the kitchen table, her body racked with sobs. Fraser looked up as Scully entered. He walked over to where she had bent down next to the body. He bent down next to her. "Joe Bailey, aged 24. Son of two of the previous victims. That's his wife over there," he gestured discreetly to the young woman at the table. Scully checked the victim's neck. The insignia was tiny. If she hadn't known it was there, she wouldn't have seen it. "You said we have a suspect?" she said, standing up. Fraser nodded, and led her to the woman at the table. Scully glanced at Fraser in surprise, but he shook his head slightly. "Mrs. Bailey?" Fraser said. She looked up. "This is Agent Scully, my partner. Can you tell her what you told me?" Scully took the seat across from the woman. "Take your time," she said gently. "He'll kill me too," she said, her voice breaking. "If he finds out I spoke with you." Scully glanced at Fraser. "No one's going to hurt you, Mrs. Bailey." "Joe has...had...a brother, Dave. Only a half brother. Joe's mother was his father's second wife." "Arianne Bailey?" Scully asked. Mrs. Bailey nodded. "She and Dave never got along. He was three years older than Joe..."Her voice faltered. "I only know what Joe told me," she said. She nodded. "Can you tell me what he told you?" "It was just after his mother died, after the funeral. Everyone had always known Dave was...different. He didn't come to the funeral, see, and everyone's tongues were wagging. People say it was because of his mother, who died having him. When Dave was little, around ten or so, Joe said, Joe woke up to find Dave in his room, killing his pet mouse." Scully raised an eyebrow, and motioned for Mrs. Bailey to continue. "He had his fingers around it's body, squeezing the life out of it. Joe was too scared to say anything, but when Dave was finished, he followed him back to his room. Joe said it was as if Dave was sleepwalking. In the morning, Dave claimed to remember nothing," the woman glanced uncertainly at Scully. She nodded, signaling it was ok to continue. "After that...things started happening around the house. After fights with Joe's mother, or their father, late at night, they'd wake up, feeling as if they were being slapped, or punched, kicked or bit. There was never anyone there." "And Joe thought it was Dave?" Scully asked. The woman nodded. "After a while, everyone in the family knew. Dave was the black sheep of the family, his uncle...who was also...killed...wanted to lock him up in an institution. Joe's parents OK'd it, and Dave spent four years there. When he came out...the murders started." Scully took a photograph out of her pocket. "Does your brother in law have a ring with the family insignia on it?" Mrs. Bailey studied the photo. "Joe had always wondered where that went..." -- Dave Bailey Residence Baltimore, Maryland 1.45AM Scully rapped on the door. "FBI, open up!" she shouted. Fraser stood behind her, his gun drawn. A woman in a nightgown opened the door, bleary eyed. Her eyes opened wide with fear, and she opened the door wider. "Dave!" she called behind her. "We have visitors!" Scully took in the apartment. There was nothing unusual about it. A wedding picture hung on the wall opposite. The woman saw her looking. "What do you want?" A man Scully and Fraser assumed was Dave Bailey entered the room, scratching his bare chest. His eyes opened wide at the sight of two FBI agents standing in his living room. Scully turned to the woman. "Liz Bailey?" The woman nodded, throwing a look at her husband. "Can I help you?" he asked, glancing nervously at his wife. Fraser stepped forward. "Sir, at approximately 10.30 last night, Joe Bailey was strangled to death in his own home." Liz Bailey sank to the couch, her hand to her throat. Dave stood, his face impassive. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. Scully gestured to the man's left hand. "That's a nice ring," she said. Bailey followed her gaze. "It's a family ring," he said, by way of explanation. "The only one in the family," Fraser said, taking a menacing step forward. "Mr. Bailey, can you explain to us how the imprint of that ring appeared on the necks of four murder victims?" On the couch, Liz Bailey let out a strangled cry. "Just tell them, Dave!" she wept. "Just tell them the truth." Bailey was silent, his face emotionless. "You can go into a deep meditative state, Mr. Bailey," Scully said slowly. "And when you're in it, your astral body can you wherever you want. You can do whatever you want. Like killing family members." Dave didn't say anything. He stared blankly past Scully, his breathing deep and regulated. Liz started to whimper. Scully and Fraser looked uncertainly at each other. Suddenly, Scully was thrown against the wall by an invisible force. Liz screamed. Still Bailey stood, impassive. Fraser stared back and forth between his partner and Dave Bailey's unmoving body. Scully started to make choking noises, held up against the wall by something none of them could see. Her eyes met Fraser's, pleading for her life. In a split second, Fraser made his decision. He aimed his gun at Bailey's body, and fired. It hit him square in the chest. A bright red stain bloomed across his skin, and his body folded and dropped to the floor. On the other side of the room, Scully's body did the same thing. She slid down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud. Fraser ran to her, and helped her up. Breathing hoarsely, Scully's hands flew to her abdomen, pressing against it. Fraser looked at her strangely, but helped her to the couch. Liz Bailey was on the ground with Dave, holding his head in her lap. At the sound of the gunshot, the backup Fraser had requested before coming over to the apartment had moved towards the building. The Agent in Charge ran over to Fraser and Scully. "You ok?" he asked Scully. She nodded, but grabbed his sleeve as he turned to go. "I want to go to hospital," she wheezed. "So they can check...me out." -- Two Days Later Scully pressed print, and her report on the Bailey murders case began to spew out of the printer. Across the room, Fraser was typing his own report. Scully would have bet anything that his report was going to be less 'out there' than hers. The phone on her desk rang, and she answered it after one ring. "Scully," she said. "Agent Scully, Assistant Director Skinner would like to see you in his office," Kimberly said quickly. Scully hung up, and turned to Fraser. "That was Skinner. He wants to see me." Fraser grinned. "Take our reports up with you, see what he has to say." Scully managed a smile, and she took the elevator up to Skinner's office. He was sitting at his desk, his face creased with worry. "Sir?" He jumped. "Agent Scully. Have a seat." She did as she was told, sitting forward a little, not knowing what to expect. Skinner took a deep breath. "Sir?" She looked down at her hands. They were shaking like she'd had ten cups of coffee that morning. "There's a situation," he said slowly, not quite looking at her. "There's a situation in Oregon." Scully went pale, and Skinner jumped up, and grabbed her just before she slid off the seat. He lay her on the floor, yelling for Kimberly to get a medic in there. -- In the small clinic in the FBI building, Dana Scully was trying to convince her assistant director she was fine. He looked gruff. "Your...condition, Agent Scully, worries me." "I'm fine, sir. I didn't eat breakfast. What happened?" They both knew she wasn't referring to the episode in Skinner's office. "Theresa Hoese stumbled out of the forest early this morning. She was picked up by a passing motorist. She wants to speak with you." Scully stared at Skinner, before jumping off the bed. He held up a hand. "Slow down, Agent Scully. I've already booked you and Agent Fraser a flight." ------------------------------- CHAPTER TWO ------------------------------- "Through the years I've grown to love you, though your commitment to most would offend but I stuck by you holding on with my foolish pride Waiting for you to give in" 'Terms of Endearment' Sarah McLachlan Special Agent Joshua Fraser was nervous. Hell, he was scared. It was an irrational fear, his mind tried to tell him. You're scared of what you don't know. As true as that was, Joshua Fraser was still scared. He hadn't been told anything except that they were going to follow a lead on Fox Mulder's disappearance a month ago. That particular X-File had never closed. He doubted it ever would be. Regardless of whether or not he was missing, Fox Mulder was a mysterious man. As was his enigmatic partner, who, he knew, followed Mulder with dogged determination, and protected him as fiercely as a mother bear protected her cubs. She was sitting next to him on Flight 103, staring straight ahead, her fingers clutching the armrests so hard her knuckles were white. Agent Fraser had no idea what to expect in Oregon. A missing woman mysteriously turned up, and she wanted to talk to Scully. He had no idea why he had to go. He had a feeling that Scully was turning Mulder into her own personal quest. She was determined to find him, no matter what. Dana Scully sat next to Fraser, reflecting on their partnership. They'd been partners for two weeks, and already he was involved in her own personal fight. Unwillingly, and unknowingly, he was a new player. It was unlike her partnership with Mulder. On their first case, she had felt instantly comfortable with him. She had earned his trust, and he hers almost immediately. Scully didn't trust Fraser, and she knew he was wary of her. Of course he was, she admonished herself. She was Spooky Mulder's partner. The night before, Scully had realised that Mulder was her Samantha. It had taken almost 30 years to solve that mystery. Scully was preying she found Mulder a lot sooner. -- Bellefleur, Oregon Wednesday, 2.30PM Fraser pulled the maroon rental car to a stop outside the hospital. Scully sat in the passenger seat, her face impassive. She took a deep breath, and opened the door. She turned to Fraser. "I'd appreciate it if I went in alone," she said, not meeting his eyes. Fraser shrugged. "Whatever rocks your socks." Scully nodded a thanks, and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She strengthened her resolve, and walked towards the main entrance. She stopped at the information desk, and flashed her badge. "Can I get Theresa Hoese's room number please?" The nurse at the desk looked flustered at the sight of Scully's badge. She nodded, and turned to the computer. "Ah...how do you spell the last name?" Scully sighed impatiently. "H-O-E-S-E. Hoese." The woman quickly typed it in. "Room 303, Alexander Bennett Memorial Wing." Scully quickly hurried towards the elevator. She checked the map of the hospital hanging on the wall. She took the elevator up to the right floor, and walked down the long hall. She stopped at a door near the end of the corridor. It was quieter on this side of the hospital - less 'hospital' noises. 303. The door was closed, and Scully rapped lightly on the wood with her knuckles. "Come in," the voice was unsteady. Scully recognised the accent. She opened the door slowly, and stepped into the room. Theresa Hoese was lying on the bed in the center of the room, raised up against the pillows. A nurse was standing next to the bed, checking Theresa's chart. Scully held out her hand. "Can I take a look? I'm a medical doctor," she said, showing her credentials. The nurse nodded, and handed her Theresa's chart. Scully checked it over. "Exposure and shock...abnormal brain activity...distress..." Scully murmured. Theresa was babbling quietly to herself. Scully looked up as the nurse left the room. "Theresa?" she asked softly. "It's Agent Scully. You were asking for me?" Theresa's eyes locked on Scully's. "He's in a better place, Agent Scully." Scully felt her breath catch, and she sat in a chair that had been pulled up next to Theresa's bed. She sat with her back straight, her face composed. "What happened, Theresa? Where did you go?" "Ray was there too," she said softly, almost to herself. "Ray wasn't scared, he looked after us. We missed our baby..." Scully bit her lip and looked down at her hands, where they were folded over her stomach. "Where were you?" "They took us to the mothership, they were like men but with no emotion. They were so strong..." Theresa folded the blanket off her body, and lifted up her hospital issue gown. On her thigh was a large, black blue bruise. She put the blanket back in place, and shut her eyes. "That's all I remember," her voice broke, and a tear slid out from under her closed lids. She turned onto her side, towards Scully, and began to sob. "The doctors said they'd keep me safe...but I don't think they can. They threw me back, Agent Scully. They were finished with me." Scully took her hand, and clutched it. "Where are the others?" Theresa's eyes opened, and they bore into Scully's. "Can you bring me my baby?" Scully looked away from the younger woman's gaze. "I'll see what I can do," she promised. -- "You can't leave me here I got your back now You'd better have mine Cause you say the coast is clear But you say that all the time" Independence Day, Ani DiFranco Comity Inn 8.30PM Scully ran turned on the hot water, then the cold, trying to get the temperature right. When she was satisfied, she stood up straight, and unbuttoned her shirt. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she stumbled to the toilet, vomiting into the bowl and into her hair, which was hanging loose around her face. She propped her head up with her hands, pushing her hair out of her face. She shut her eyes, spitting into the toilet bowl, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. It hit her again, and her shoulders heaved as she was violently sick. Panting for breath, she stood up, her hands gripping the edge of the basin. She washed out her mouth and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was sticking to her face. Shaking, she leaned over and turned the water in the bath off. She'd have to shower now, to get the vomit out of her hair. Once in the shower, she sagged against the wall. The hot water washed over her, but it wasn't a comfort. Tears mixed with the droplets of water on her face, and images of her partner - her real partner - filled her mind. -- Agent Fraser sat on the bed in his hotel room, channel surfing all the sports channels he could find. He heard the sounds of the shower running in the adjoining room, and he assumed Scully was making herself comfortable for the night. She'd been silent in the car on the way from the hospital to the motel. He'd asked about what happened, but she'd shook her head, and didn't say anything. He was being left out of the loop. He doubted this was even a case. He suspected Skinner had only sent him with Scully to get him out of the bureau's hair. He was indifferent as to whether or not Spooky Mulder turned up. If he was getting paid to take a holiday, so be it. And, he decided. He wasn't going let this little trip go to waste. He reached for the phone, intending to order a pizza, with the works. -- Stepping out of the shower, Scully reached for a towel. She wrapped it around herself, and padded out into the main section of the room. From under a pile of clothes on the bed, she heard her cell phone ringing. She pushed the clothes aside, and pressed SND. "Scully." There was a pause, then a hushed voice came over the line. "The red X in twenty minutes," a female voice said, before the line went dead. Scully slowly put down her cell phone. The red X...the red X! The one Mulder had sprayed on the ground seven years ago. Near the forest. She dressed quickly, checking the rounds in her gun. -- 10PM Scully pulled the rental car to a stop. She checked out the window. This was the place. She stepped out of the car, her gun drawn. She began to walk down the road, to the place where the Sheriff's car had spun out of control a little over a month before. Switching on her flashlight, she glanced over the area. There was no one to be seen. "Agent Scully." Scully whirled around, holding her flashlight up, and her gun out. Marita Covarrubias stepped out of the shadows, and held up her hands. "I'm here as a friend, Agent Scully. We have a common goal," she said, walking slowly towards the FBI agent. Scully warily lowered her gun. "You let them take Mulder," she said, her voice dangerously low. Marita shook her head. "Your partner sacrificed himself. He _wanted_ to go, Agent Scully." "No," Scully said defiantly. "He would never go with them." Marita laughed dryly. "You can argue that out with your partner in due time," she reached a hand into her pocket, and Scully raised her gun again. "Put your hands where I can see them!" she barked. Marita held up a piece of paper. "The spaceship has landed again, bringing with them throwbacks, people they have no use for anymore." "Like Theresa," Scully said. Marita nodded. She held out the piece of paper to Scully. Scully took it, and opened it, shining her flashlight on it to illuminate the writing. "The location of the spaceship, Agent Scully," Marita said, studying the agent carefully. Scully looked up at Marita, hatred in her eyes. "Why are you giving this to me?" "We need Mulder, Agent Scully. And if you can find him, that's less work for me," Marita said, turning to walk away. Scully watched her go, until she disappeared into the night. -- Oregon State Forest Thursday Morning Scully stood next to an FBI squad car, giving instructions into the radio. Fraser, and a handful of other FBI field agents, stood behind her, standing around uncertainly. They had two co ordinates, but no idea what they were looking for. A car pulled up, and a man stepped out, his eyes sweeping the area. His gaze fell on Scully, and he walked towards her. "Agent Scully," he said in a low voice. Scully turned around. "Sir? What are you doing here?" Skinner glanced at the other agents, and drew her aside. "I can't deny what I saw. I'm here to help. I let him down - I'm not going to do the same to you," he said roughly, looking anywhere but at her face. Scully's smile was wobbly, but sincere. Her eyes were bright with tears. "Thankyou, sir," she murmured. "Thankyou." -- Fraser followed Scully and the Assistant Director into the forest. The AD stopped suddenly, and pointed to a clearing. "There," he said, and Scully looked over. She started to run towards the clearing, anxiously searching the sky and the trees for a sign of life - a sign of anything, really. Covering the ground was a fine grey powder. Scully recognised it without knowing what it was, as little sense as that made. She'd taken a sample of it seven years ago. And here it was again. Skinner came up beside her, breathing hard. "One second he was there. The next...I looked up and he was gone," his voice was tortured. Scully could tell that the moment Mulder had disappeared had been haunting the AD. "They went over this place with a fine tooth comb. There was nothing here." Scully looked into the trees, then turned away. "Let's keep moving." A crashing through the bush startled the agent and the AD. Fraser, running up to them, stopped at the noise. Scully could hear fevered breathing, and the sounds got louder. She ran blindly towards them, her heart pounding. She knew. She just knew. "Scully!" Skinner yelled, starting after her. Scully ignored him, and kept running, stumbling over loose sticks and dead tree trunks. Then he was there, in her arms, cut, bruised, dirty and crying but there. He was moaning into her neck as she hugged him to her, her fingers gripping his back, her mouth murmuring his name over and over again. Skinner and Fraser drew to a stop as the took in the scene before him. Skinner held up his hand, gesturing for Fraser to leave the area. Skinner turned and followed him, leaving his two agents to reunite. "Mulder..." Scully murmured, her voice broken. He pulled away from her, without leaving her embrace. "You kept me sane, Scully, your damn rationale kept me sane," he babbled, holding her tight. "I love you Scully," he mumbled, before passing out in her arms. ------------------------------- CHAPTER THREE ------------------------------- "You can't leave me here now that you're back you'd better stay this time cause you say the coast is clear but you say that all the time." Independence Day, Ani DiFranco One Week Later J.Edgar Hoover Building Washington DC Special Agent Joshua Fraser sat uncertainly behind his desk, as Scully entered the basement office. "How's Agent Mulder?" Fraser asked. Scully's eyes flicked over her partner. "He's fine," she said. Which wasn't really a lie. Physically, there was nothing wrong with him. The day before she'd taken him home from the hospital. He'd refused to go to his apartment. He spent the night in her bed, while she stayed up watching over him. She could tell nightmares were plaguing him, but she didn't wake him. He needed sleep. And he needed to fight his demons alone, as much as it hurt to sit immobile watching him battle with the sheets, scream and cry. Fraser nodded. "Glad to hear it. He'll be back at work soon?" Scully set her things down on her desk, and stood with her back to the other agent. She'd had to fight Mulder that morning, to stop him from getting up and coming in to work. She didn't know how to tell him that another agent had been assigned to their division, she didn't even know if they were going to re assign Fraser now that Mulder had returned. "In due time," Scully said, switching on her computer. She had a lot of paper work to catch up on, most of it involving the re appearance of Agent Mulder. The phone on Fraser's desk rang. "Hello?" he listened for a moment. "Special Agent Joshua Fraser...yes, this is the X-Files division...just a moment..." he put his hand over the mouthpiece and turned to Scully. "It's for you. He doesn't believe that I work on the X-Files." Scully sighed. Mulder. It could only be Mulder. She held her hand out for the phone, and Fraser gave it to her. She turned her back on her partner. "Mulder?" she said softly, dragging the cord over to her desk. "Who the hell was that, Scully?" Scully didn't say anything. "Scully, you there?" "Mulder, you need rest," she said finally. He sounded too perky. She guessed he was on the verge of hysteria. Or, the rational part of her mind said. Maybe he was just that - perky. They hadn't talked about his ordeal yet. Scully knew Mulder would open up - in due time. "No I don't. Scully, we need to talk. Meet me for lunch? My shout. I'll come getcha around 1, ok?" Scully sighed in resignation. "Okay, Mulder," she said, a smile forming. "As long as it really is your shout." "Okay, but that means we're eating at McDonalds." Scully laughed. "I'll shout you this time Mulder. Now go and rest." She hung up. Fraser glanced at her. "There's a case here that sounds interesting," his voice broke through her almost happy reverie. She nodded at him. "There are lots of cases here that are interesting." "Interesting isn't the word," Fraser mumbled, going back to the case file. -- Lizzie's Diner 1.20PM Scully sat in the booth across from Mulder, sipping a milkshake. Mulder looked around him, and rolled his eyes as a waitress in bubblegum pink served the table across from them. "Scully, this is almost as bad as McDonalds." Scully smiled. "What did you want to talk about?" Mulder sat back, his face serious. "Why didn't you tell me, Scully?" Scully's heart began to beat slightly faster. He couldn't know. No one except Skinner knew. "Why didn't you tell me another agent had been assigned to the X-Files?" he continued, causing Scully's heart to beat normally again. "I didn't get a chance. You were delirious when we got you to the hospital in Oregon. Did you really expect me to tell you then?" Mulder shrugged. She had a point. Scully speared a greasy french fry with her fork, and raised to her mouth. Mulder raised an eyebrow, and she put it back on her plate, opting to have another sip of her milkshake. "Next time I'm shouting." "Is that all you wanted to talk about?" "Trying to get rid of me Scully?" he started attacking her chips. Scully eyed him with distaste as he shoveled grease stick after grease stick into his mouth. He shook his head. "I knocked over the coffee table this morning," Mulder said, not meeting her eyes. "How?!" "I was...uh...jogging..." Scully shook her head. "I'm not even going to ask." "I was cleaning it up and I found this," he took a slip of paper out of his pocket and pushed it across the table to Scully. She unfolded it. Her own familiar handwriting met her eyes. "An appointment with an obstetrician?" he asked. Scully slowly folded the paper back up. "You went through my personal things," Scully said, her voice low. Mulder grabbed her hand, and she didn't push it away. "Scully? Look at me." She looked up at him, crumpling the paper with the appointment reminder. "They let me go because I still had to do things here," he said. "You don't die, Scully," his eyes were alight with intensity. "I saw your father, Scully. They took me to where they keep them." Scully shook her head, a tear trailing down her cheek. "Not now, Mulder. I don't want to hear it now." He grabbed both her hands in both of his, drawing her towards him across the table. He was smiling. "My sister was there. Not clones, Scully. My real sister." "Mulder stop it!" Scully said, her voice drawing the attention of some of the closer patrons of the restaurant. He didn't say anything. "I don't know how, Mulder. It's impossible, but it's...it's happening." Mulder stared at her. "So it's true?" Scully smiled through her tears. "I didn't want to tell you this way." "Is it extra terrestrial?" Scully rolled her eyes. "Tests will confirm...who..." she looked down, drawing courage from the sight of her and Mulder's hands intertwined on the table. She looked up again. "Tests will confirm what I already know. This baby is _ours_." -- "I'm so afraid to love you but more afraid to loose I'm standing on the edge of something much to deep Once there was a darkness A deep and endless night You gave me everything you had Oh you gave me life" I Will Remember You, Sarah McLachan Two days later Annapolis, Maryland 10.13PM Fox William Mulder sat on the couch, watching the news with the sound off. He could hear Scully in the bathroom, having a shower. Sitting on the coffee table in front of him was a case file Scully had bought home from work to show him. It was a typical X-File, and Mulder didn't even know why Scully had bought it home. No, that was a lie. He knew exactly why. She was trying to include him. The X- Files was his life - but he couldn't work on them until Skinner OK'd his starting work again. God knew when that would be. Sitting on Scully's couch, in Scully's apartment, gave Mulder a warm sense of d=82j... vu. It had only been around three months since the night they'd sat here and she'd shared her story about her affair with a married man, and her epiphany with Buddha. They'd wound up in the same bed that night. Scully entered the living room in her silk pajamas, and sat cross legged on the couch next to him. "Did you take a look at the X-File?" she asked, picking up the folder. "You didn't tell me CBG Spender is dead." Startled, Scully put the X-File down. "Who told you?" "I'm an orphan now, Scully. In every way. My mother is dead. My father is dead. My biological father is dead. My sister is dead," his voice lacked emotion. He stared straight ahead, at the television which was still muted. Scully watched him carefully. She didn't know what to say. There was nothing _to_ say. Finally, she shifted on the couch, and pulled him into her arms. He rest his head on her shoulder, stony faced. She pressed her lips to the side of his head, and held him tightly. His hands found her stomach, and he moved his hands over her, as if trying to find the life that lay beneath the skin. They sat, unmoving, for hours. They breathed as one. They were both haunted, in different ways. Neither of them knew what was going to happen next. At one am, the nightmares started. -- Mulder couldn't breath. Someone was pressing his face into the ground. He felt dirt invade his nostrils, and his mouth. He was being held underwater - no, under dirt - and he was drowning. Drowning in dirt. He was dirty. It seemed appropriate somehow, and he tried to laugh. He inhaled more dirt. He clawed at his throat, trying to fight off the pressure that was holding him down. "Scully," he tried to yell. "Scully!" -- She bent over him, trying to shake him awake. His hands were clawing at hers, and he was shouting her name. "Mulder," she said, smoothing his hair back. "Mulder wake up." Tears were running down his face, mingled with sweat. His eyes fluttered open, and they locked on Scully's eyes. She ran the back of her hand over his cheek. "It's okay, Mulder. It was just a dream." His breath ragged, he nodded. She kissed his forehead gently, and she lay down next to him, albeit squashed because of his large frame and the small couch. She gripped his hand in hers. "What happened, Mulder?" They both knew she wasn't referring to the dream. Mulder took a long, shuddery breath. He slipped one arm around her waist, and rested it on her abdomen. "At first, no one could talk. It was physically impossible, but no one seemed to want too, anyway. It was amazing, Scully. The ship was huge, and they way it was built - I've never seen anything like it. The one in Antarctica couldn't hold a candle to this one," he paused. She twisted her head to look at him. He smiled at her, and continued. "Everyone but me had been taken before. I was wrong about them wanting you, Scully. It threw you back." "I know," she said softly. "I realised it after you left, but there was nothing I could do," her voice broke. He smoothed her hair out of her face gently. "Don't blame yourself. There was no way you could have known." "I should have," she argued. He shook his head, even though she couldn't see it. "They kept me separate to everyone else. My mother came to see me." Scully started to worry about Mulder's sanity. "Mulder..." "No, Scully. Don't say it. She was there. All the members of the consortium were there. I told you the other day - you don't die! A whole section of the ship...it was like a replica of earth." "Mulder...what you're describing would be physically impossible." "I don't think the law of physics apply here, Scully." "Did you meet Shakespeare?" she asked sarcastically. "Okay," he admonished. "All the key players were there. Your father was there." Scully went cold. "My father had nothing to do with the conspiracy..." "He was a naval officer, Scully. You know how far this thing goes. Every major organisation in the country has someone affiliated with it." "Not Ahab..." Scully said softly. But it made sense. He was so against her decision to join the FBI. She began to shiver. Mulder ran his hands up and down her arms to warm her up. "Scully?" "Yeah?" "Promise me something." She twisted her head to look at him. He was still crying, but then, so was she. "Of course," her voice was barely a whisper. "Don't ever leave me." Scully was surprised. That wasn't anything like what she'd expected him to say. "Of course I wont," she said, catching his hand in hers. Their fingers curled around each others, and they slept. -- "We need Mulder." The blonde woman stepped out of the shadows of the room, and raised an eyebrow. "We have him." The man shook his head, and ran a prosthetic hand through his hair. "No...not yet." Marita Covarrubias tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the table. "Who are you playing for, Krychek?" her voice was cool, and calculated. "They're coming, dammit. I'm playing this game...to save myself," he put his head in his hands. "The consortium is dead, the project is in ruins. We only have one more chance. Fuck this one up, and we're dead too." Marita folded her arms, and shifted her weight to the other foot. "What are we going to do about Scully?" Krychek sat back in his chair. He'd gone over all the details in his head millions of times. He made it a million and one. "It's obvious, isn't it?" Marita shook her head. "Why don't you spell it out for me Alex?" "We wait. And then, we take it away," he said, getting up abruptly from his chair. He left the room, and Marita watched him leave. After his footsteps faded away, Marita's face morphed into that of the Alien Bounty Hunter. He stared after Krychek, his eyes cold and distant. -- Apt. 42 Alexandria, VA October 23, 7.30PM Mulder lay on his couch, his feet dangling over the edge. He aimed a soft basketball at the hoop on the other wall. He shot, and it swished through the hoop, rebounding off the wall back to him. He shot again, and it went through. He aimed again, and as he threw the ball, the phone rang. His aim was off, and the ball rebounded against the wall above the hoop, and rebounded, hitting him square in the face. He rubbed his forehead, and reached for the phone. "Mulder." "My, my Mulder. Don't we sound perky." Mulder sat up, pushing the ball off his chest. "You," he spat. "What do you want?" He got off the couch, and peered out the window, through the blinds. The street, shining with recent rain, was empty. Krychek laughed. "Don't sound so defensive." "Get on with it, you son of a bitch, before I hang up." "The summer house, Mulder." "What about it?" Mulder growled. Krychek laughed again. Mulder slammed his fist against the wall. "You're really starting to piss me off," Mulder said, nursing his knuckles. "Don't you think the kid's going to want to know all about it's sordid family history?" Mulder stood, frozen. He didn't say anything. "The summer house, Mulder." There was a soft click. The bastard had hung up. -- 9.23PM Special Agent Fraser pushed back his chair. "Done," he said, breaking a two hour silence. Scully looked up from her computer monitor, her eyes tired through her glasses. He ran a hand over his face, stopping at his chin to rub his stubble. "You nearly finished?" he asked. Scully nodded. She turned back to her keyboard, and Fraser rubbed his eyes, debating whether or not to tell her about the meeting he'd had with Skinner and Section Chief Angela Harrison that morning. They hadn't said not to tell her. In fact, they'd barley mentioned Agent Scully's name at all. He suspected Agent Mulder didn't know what was going on, either. She glanced over at him, still typing. "Aren't you going to go home?" she asked absently. Fraser shrugged. "Got nothing to go home to." Scully looked up, giving him his full attention. "No special someone keeping your side of the bed warm?" She raised an eyebrow, and Mulder's face flickered in her mind. She blushed at the thought. Fraser shook his head. "My job scares them all off," he joked. Scully smiled, but she sensed bitterness behind his words. She sighed, and pressed save, then print. "I've been permanently assigned to the X-Files." Scully picked up the sheets of paper off the printer tray, and tapped them neatly together, and placed them in a folder, stamped with the familiar red X. She turned to Fraser, her eyes void of emotion. "Congratulations," she shut the folder, and placed it neatly in the corner of her desk, ready to be picked up tomorrow morning to take to their meeting with the Assistant Director. Fraser shrugged. "I'm sort of getting used to it down here." Scully smiled thinly, and picked up her briefcase. "See you bright and early tomorrow," she said, walking towards the door. Fraser watched her go, the unspoken still lingering between them. What was going to happen to Mulder? -- A loud knock at the door startled Walter Skinner. He turned away from his computer monitor. "Come in," he called. The door open, and an angry Dana Scully stepped into the room. "Agent Scully. It's late. You should be at home, with your feet up." Scully ignored his subtle reference to what was going on inside her, and stormed over to the AD's desk. "_Permanently_?" she asked, her voice shaking with anger. "Permanently reassigned?" Skinner leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. "The order came from above, Agent Scully. There was nothing I could do about it." "What about Mulder?" Skinner took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm not at liberty to say. I called his apartment and cell phone to set up a meeting with him for the day after tomorrow, but he didn't answer." "He didn't answer?" "That's what I said. Go home, Agent Scully." She glared at him, and walked out of the office. At the back of the room, a man stepped out of the shadows, a man Agent Scully hadn't seen. The Assistant Director glared at him. Krychek just smiled. -- 10.13PM Scully let herself into her apartment, and the blinking light of her answering machine caught her eye. Without switching on the lights, she walked over to it, and pressed play. "Scully it's me. I'm going to be in Rhode Island for a few days...I just need to tie up a few loose ends." The machine beeped, and rewound itself. Scully turned it off, and headed for her bedroom. -- Rhode Island October 24 5.30AM Mulder put his foot down on the accelerator of his rental car. The car shot forward, and Mulder popped a sunflower seed into his mouth. He chewed it, then set his mouth in a grim line. His cell phone sat on the passenger seat. He didn't have his gun, or even his badge. The bureau still had those. The screen of his phone was blank. He didn't want to be asked any questions. -- Baltimore, Maryland 8AM Dana Scully was about to do the hardest thing she'd ever done. She hadn't called Margaret Scully to tell her she was coming. She had to be at a meeting in DC by 11, and she figured that gave her enough time for a visit to her mother. She hadn't seen her since she had been hospitalised after Mulder's disappearance. Maggie Scully opened the front door in her bathroom. She was surprised to find her daughter standing before her, a tearful smile on her face. "Hi Mom," she said, allowing herself to be wrapped in her mother's warm embrace. -- Dana sat at the kitchen table, a warm mug of coffee in front of her. Her mother sat across from her, holding her hand. Both mother and daughter's eyes were red. "How, Dana?" Dana shook her head. "I don't know, Mom," her voice broke. "What about Fox? Does he know how?" Again, Dana shook her head. Maggie was quiet, digesting the information. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I couldn't...I couldn't tell anyone. Not even Mulder. He found out on his own." "Has he proposed yet?" "Mom!" "It's the right thing to do!" Inwardly, Dana cursed her mother's devout Irish Catholic morals. "Not for Mulder and I," Dana said gently. Maggie glared at her daughter indignantly. "Have you discussed it?" Dana blushed. "Not exactly..." Maggie sighed. "Oh Dana." Tears slipped down Dana's cheeks. "Mom, I'm so scared." Maggie got out of her seat, and wrapped her daughter in her arms. She rocked her back and forth, like she did when Dana was a baby. Dana's shoulders heaved with sobs, and Maggie's own eyes were wet. "Shh..." she said. "Shh." -- Quonochontaug, Rhode Island 11.30AM Mulder got out of the car, and slammed the door shut. He pulled his hood over his head to block out the rain. He jogged to the doorway of the house, the hood not helping. Fishing an old key out of his pocket, he unlocked the front door. The house was musty, and the furniture was covered with plastic sheets. A lamp lay shattered in one corner of the room. Mulder stuck his hand in his pocket. The object he was never without lay nestled between a wad of cash and a handful of sunflower seeds. He systematically searched all the drawers and niches in the living room, dumping the contents on the floor. A photograph caught his eye. A young CGB Spender stood with Teena Mulder and Samantha Mulder. Mulder stared at the photo with contempt. He threw it on the ground with the rest of the items, and continued his search. -- Rhode Island October 25 Scully and Skinner got back into the rental car, after a quick roadstop. Scully tersely slammed the passenger side door, and buckled up her seat belt. For the hundredth time, she tried Mulder's cell phone. It rung out. "I hope you're right, Agent Scully," Skinner said, navigating the car onto the road. Scully said nothing. She just hit redial. "If we don't beat him there," she said, not referring to Mulder. "I will kill you." Skinner didn't doubt her one bit. -- Mulder woke up with a pain in his back. He was lying on the floor of the loft that he and Samantha shared in the summer house. He hadn't got much sleep. Even in Rhode Island he was not immune to the nightmares. He went downstairs, rubbing his eyes. Something jumped out at him, and he stumbled to the floor. He scrambled into a sitting position. The Alien Bounty Hunter stood over him. "You," Mulder spat. He launched himself at the bounty hunter, and the bounty hunter grabbed Mulder by the throat and shoved him up against the wall. Gasping for breath, Mulder kicked him in the gut. He didn't release his grip. "Listen to me," the bounty hunter commanded. Mulder lashed out again, his hand in his pocket. The second the bounty hunter saw the stiletto, Mulder gained the upper hand. The bounty hunter let go, and Mulder dropped to the floor, gasping. He flicked the switch, and the blade appeared with a 'ffht.' The bounty hunter took a step back, Mulder a step forward. Mulder sprung towards him, pushing him to the ground. Straddling his back, Mulder raised the stiletto. "The child is in danger." -- The phone rung out yet again. Scully swore, and tossed her cell phone on the backseat. Skinner glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Agent Scully, I'm sorry." "I trusted you. Mulder trusted you." Skinner sighed, wondering if he should have admitted to Scully his 'alliance' with Krychek. -- Mulder hesitated. The bounty hunter spoke quickly. "There is a new project. The child your partner is carrying will be the only human with complete immunity to the virus. The countdown has started, Agent Mulder. There is little time to spare." "You're lying." The bounty hunter continued, as if Mulder hadn't spoken. "There is one way to save the child from it's fate." Mulder's face contorted in pain. "You son of a bitch! You goddamn motherfucking liar!" -- Scully pointed to the right. "It's down there." Skinner turned the car quickly, and Scully fell against the door. Suddenly, a wave of nausea fell over her. The plastic bag holding the remains of breakfast from a roadside diner sat on the floor in front of her. She grabbed it, and threw up into it. Skinner winced at the sounds, and put his foot on the break, intending to pull over. Scully gestured at him, telling him to keep driving. She threw up again, and Skinner feebly rubbed her back. "Mulder," she groaned. -- "Listen to me, Agent Mulder!" the bounty hunter yelled. "There is one way to save the child. Hand it over to the alien race, and those who seek to find it and destroy it will not!" "No!" Mulder yelled, lowering the stiletto. The body below him changed, and suddenly it was Scully that Mulder had around the throat, Scully's neck he was about to pierce. -- Skinner pulled the car to a stop outside the house. The door was shut, and Scully could hear Mulder's voice yelling inside. Swallowing more vomit, she jumped out of the car, beating Skinner to the front door. -- Mulder gasped, and the stiletto went flying across the room. He rolled off her, tears running down his cheeks. "You're a fool, Mulder," she said, her blue eyes hard and cold. Mulder turned away, and began to sob. The bounty hunter morphed back, and disappeared out the window. -- Scully ran into the house, and found Mulder cowering in a corner of the living room, his shoulders heaving with sobs. She ran to him, and knelt beside him. "Mulder," she said. "Mulder, it's me." He raised his eyes to meet hers, and she had to force herself not to look away. They were the eyes of a wild animal. "I'll be at the motel," Skinner said softly behind her. She nodded quickly, and turned back to Mulder. He looked sad and pathetic now, his cheeks streaked with dirt and tears. She sat with her back to the wall, and he lay in her lap, pressing his face into her stomach, his arms wrapped around her waist, his legs curled up under him like a small child. -- 6.20PM They sat together on the couch, the plastic sheet that had covered it on the floor. "It's only three months, Mulder. A lot of things could go wrong." He shook his head stubbornly, that morning's scene playing itself out in his head. "We won't let anything happen Scully. We have the X-Files to keep us busy..." He went on, but Scully didn't hear him. She didn't know how to tell him that he didn't have the X-Files anymore. So she didn't. Suddenly, he stood up. "I came here to find something, Scully. And I'm going to find it." -- Washington DC 7PM Special Agent Fraser shook his head. "I don't believe you." The woman laughed harshly, and shrugged. "Die, along with the rest of the world." Fraser nodded slowly. "So what you're saying is, Agent Scully is pregnant to Agent Mulder and their child is going to be immune to an alien virus that aliens are going to unleash on the earth and you need me to betray Agent Scully by earning hers and Mulder's trust and..." She shushed him with a wave of her hand. "Immunity, Agent Fraser. A get out of jail free card." Fraser shook his head. "It isn't free." Marita Covarrubias glared at him. "I said..." "I didn't mean money. Why should I believe you?" Marita handed him an official medical report on Agent Scully, after the events in Oregon. Fraser looked up from the report, his eyes wide with shock. "She _is_ pregnant!" -- Quonochontaug, Rhode Island 10.13PM Mulder stood in what had been Teena and Bill Mulder's room, a cardboard box open in front of him. Scully sat on the bed beside the box, staring at it, unblinking. "This is amazing," Mulder breathed, picking up one of the books that lay carefully in the box. He held it up, his eyes wide with excitement. Then they darkened. "He knew about this. He told me to come here. What's he playing, Scully?" Scully shook her head. "I don't know." "He wanted me to find my mother's journals. Why?" "To earn your trust?" she suggested, peering into the box. Mulder wrinkled his nose. "Wrong." Scully raised an eyebrow, a wry grin on her face. "What's your theory then, G- man?" Mulder grinned back at her. "I don't have one," he flipped through the journal he was holding, squinting to read his mother's tiny script. "She's talking about a man...not my father...Spender," he spat angrily. "He came to see her after Samantha was born...the bastard..." his face went pale, as he read a passage to Scully. "He knows. He knew it about Fox, and he knows about Samantha. Bill knows too, I think, but loves them both as his own. He came to see us today, Samantha and I. He picked her up, and said she looked just like him. Bill walked in, and greeted him like an old friend. Which, of course, he is." Mulder shut read on, to himself. Scully sat by him, all night, as he read every volume. -- October 26 6AM Scully yawned, and sat up. Mulder was lying next to her, on top of the sheets, the last volume of Teena Mulder's journals on his chest. The entries stopped abruptly after Samantha's disappearance. They only told Mulder what he already knew. Mulder was snoring lightly, and Scully looked fondly over at him. Then she groaned, flinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her suit was rumpled, and her hair was a mess, but her mind registered nothing but the need to get to the bathroom. She stumbled into the ensuite, a hand over her mouth. She lifted the toilet seat and vomited violently into the bowl. She shut her eyes and moaned. Suddenly he was there, holding her hair out of her face, rubbing her back. Her shoulders heaved, and she made a grotesque coughing sound, and bent over the bowl again. He didn't look away when she threw up, he continued to comfort her. She spat into the bowl, and her shoulders stopped shaking. "I'm a doctor, Mulder, you'd think I'd be used to this," she mumbled, before throwing up again. When she finished, gasping for hair, she spoke. "There's a rubber band in my pocket, tie my hair back." One hand rubbed her back as she vomited again, the other one did as she had instructed. She leaned back into his arms, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her mouth was dry, and it tasted acidic. He leaned over her and flushed the toilet, then ran the bath. She managed a smile. "It's just morning sickness, I'm fine." He shook his head. "You need to rest." She groaned, tilting her head back. "Why do people keep saying that to me?" He grinned. "Come on, Dr Scully. I'll wash your back!" "Oh, how could I resist?" she asked sarcastically. -- He didn't break his promise. Her back to him and her knees drawn up to her chest, she bent over, her head resting on the wall. He washed her back gently, and she smiled. It didn't just feel like her baby anymore. It was Mulder's, too. -------------------------------------- SECOND TRIMESTER: CHAPTER FOUR -------------------------------------- Investigative Support Unit Headquarters Washington, DC October 30 Mulder nodded at people as he walked slowly out of SAC Heather Kendrell's office and towards his own, new office. He figured he must have done something really bad to warrant an office. Every other profiler in the ISU had a cubicle. SAC Kendrell had called him the 'FBI's Golden boy gone bad'. She said it was her duty to set him right again. He had a feeling she was coming on to him. Perhaps she was into domination, or something kinky like that. He stopped at the door to his office, and let out a low whistle. It even had a nameplate on it. Fox W. Mulder. He groaned. He would have preferred F William Mulder. Or even just Mulder. Hell, spooky would have been better than Fox W. Mulder. He held a case file in his hands. The SAC wanted a profile, pronto. Although he wanted the X-Files back, Mulder loved profile work. He didn't have a degree in Psychology for nothing. He sat at his desk, and opened the file. The lack of the red X on the front cover left a large, gaping hole somewhere inside him, but he read on anyway. Five murders in three weeks. The guy was quick. First, the victims disappeared, and at the site of the disappearance, various items had melted, from an intense heat that no one else felt. Then, obscene phone calls to the immediate family of the victim. Then, the body turned up. In different locations. Burnt to a crisp. In tiny pieces. Mulder raised his eyebrows and nodded. It could have been an X-File. The next pages had crime scene photos. Mulder blanched, and turned away. Slowly, he turned back. The photos were terrifying. He read the rest of the report, and turned back to the front cover. He read the report again. Studied the photos, again. Then repeated the process. -- Mulder glanced at the clock hanging behind SAC Kendrell's head. The hand moved forward, right on 2PM. He loosened his tie, and laced his fingers, placing his hands behind his head. Kendrell looked up from his profile, and cleared her throat. "Is this supposed to be some kind of joke, Agent Mulder?" He put his hands in his lap, and straightened up slightly. He shook his head seriously. "No ma'am." "You expect the agents assigned to this case to hunt for a man with pyrokinetic powers?" Mulder nodded. "Who probably has the facade of a skeptic, possibly to an extreme level. He may work as a scientist, news reporter or police officer. He relies on logic, and is extremely rational." "It appears, Agent Mulder, that working for the X-Files division for the last 8 or 9 years has spoiled your...talent." Mulder nodded to his profile. "I suggest that you take my profile seriously, and pass it onto the VCU, or the local PD - whoever is in charge of the case." Kendrell put down the profile, on the desk between them. When she spoke, her voice was low, and calm. "_I_ suggest that you re write your profile. Without the spooky stuff." "No." "Sorry? I don't think I heard you right. Did you say no, Agent Mulder?" She was throwing a chance to redeem himself at him, blatantly. He dismissed it. "Yes, ma'am. You heard me correctly. I said no." Kendrell cracked her knuckles, and Mulder winced. "You may think, Agent Mulder, that here in the ISU, you will be given the same leeway you were given while working for the X-Files division. Perhaps you think that rules still do not apply to you. Am I correct?" Mulder shrugged, and didn't answer. "I am not like Assistant Director Skinner, in that I will not turn a blind eye to Agents who, like yourself, disobey rules and regulations - " "Could I please see a rule stating that ideas of a paranormal nature can not be included in a profile?" he interrupted, sitting up straight. Kendrell fumed silently. "I follow the rules, and expect my agents too," she continued. "You will not find any element of corruption or special treatment here in the ISU..." Bar my office, he thought. "And I expect to be shown respect. So far, Agent Mulder, you have shown me no respect." Mulder sighed at the reprimand. "That's because I don't respect you," he said, like it should be obvious. Kendrell supposed it was. "Hidden away here in the ISU, you're living a sheltered life," he continued, relaxing back into his chair. Kendrell raised an eyebrow. It reminded Mulder of Scully. Only, unlike Kendrell, Scully wasn't na=8Bve and stupid. "I'm in this for the same reason you are - the same reason we all are. Justice." Inwardly, Mulder laughed. Damn was she sheltered. "It goes beyond justice," he stood up, straightened his tie, and left the office. Kendrell picked up the report again, and skimmed it. She put it in the out box, ready to be sent to the VCU. He'd won this round. -- The clocked ticked over to 4PM. SAC Kendrell was on the phone, sitting rigidly in her chair. "Yes sir," she said. "He's been difficult, to say the least...Yes, I did...Well what else was I...yes sir...yes...I have other agents asking questions...he thinks he's still working on the X-Files," she tapped her fingers on the desk, wishing the conversation would end soon. She got her wish. Five minutes later, she hung up, and lit a cigarette. -- Mulder shut down his computer, getting up from his chair. He could hear voices outside the closed office door, and he picked up his jacket and briefcase, and opened the door. He shut it behind him, his gaze lingering on the nameplate on the door. Special Agent in Charge F. Mulder Scully was standing just down the hall, in a white lab coat. Two little boys, both with red hair, were playing at her feet. Mulder grinned at them, and they ran to him yelling, "Daddy! Daddy!" He gathered them into his arms, laughing, and looked up at Scully. She was wearing a name badge on the pocket of her coat. Dr. Dana Mulder He stood up straight, intending to engulf her in a hug. He opened his arms, and Scully's face slowly morphed into that of the Alien bounty hunter. -- Sobbing and yelling, Mulder struggled to sit up. He checked his surroundings. He was on his couch, in his apartment. The light from the fishtank lit up the room in a strange green glow. He wiped his face, which was soaking in sweat. Slowly, his breath returned to normal. He shivered. He looked down at his clothes. He was in a T-shirt and sweats, not a particularly cold outfit. A clanking at the window drew his attention. The blinds were slowly moving back and forth, hitting the window. He slowly realised the window was open, and he got up to close it. As he moved away, the phone caught his eye. Without hesitating, he picked up the receiver and dialed. -- Scully rolled over, and picked up the phone. "Mulder?" "Did I wake you? I must've waken you, it's 3AM." Scully ran a hand through her tousled hair, laying back against the pillows. "No." "Why not?" She pulled the blanket up to her chin, and shut her eyes. "I can't sleep." "Me neither Scully. I could really go for a hot chocolate right about now." She laughed and groaned at the same time. "Mulder..." "Yes?" his voice was innocent. She grinned, her eyes open. "I'll be at your apartment in 20 minutes." "No no. You stay home Scully. I'll come there." She shrugged, flipping her feet over the side of the bed and sitting up. "Sure. I'll see you soon." She put the phone down, and in socked feet, padded into the kitchen to get the hot chocolate started. -- 4AM Scully and Mulder sat on the couch, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. Their shoulders touching, neither spoke. Scully wrapped both hands around her mug, and leaned her head back. "This is nice Mulder." "What is?" he asked quietly, taking a sip of the drink. She turned her head, and smiled at him. "This," she gestured vaguely. He grinned back at her. "This hot chocolate is definitely nice." She laughed softly, and placed her empty mug down on the coffee table. Mug in one hand, Mulder put his arm out, and she snuggled into his chest. He stroke her hair absently as he finished the drink. "What's it like working in the ISU?" She felt Mulder shrug. "It's work." He didn't say it, but she knew he'd prefer to be working on the X-Files. They were his life. They were hers, too. "What's going to happen next, Scully?" he asked softly. She nestled her cheek further in to his t-shirt. "I don't know," she replied honestly. She lifted her head as he put is mug on the coffee table next to her. Scully was suddenly struck at the intimacy of the situation - of how domestic it was. Mulder was obviously aware of it too, because he put both arms around her, running a thumb back and forth over her stomach. She leaned her head back into his chest. Scully knew it was time to talk about what they'd avoided for the last four months. She opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to it. "How's everything going?" Scully sighed. "Wonderfully." "And that's a bad thing?" "I'm scared, Mulder. It's too...good. For lack of a better word. I feel like there should be something wrong." "Four months to go..." Scully squeezed her eyes shut. "I try not to think about it," she whispered. Mulder sat up suddenly, and sat cross legged on the couch, facing her. She stared at him curiously. He grabbed her hands forcefully in his. "It's incredible, Scully. You have no idea how happy it makes me to think that in just a few more months...We're lucky, Scully. We get to share something that only truly blessed people get to experience." She raised an eyebrow. "What did you do with Mulder?" He shook his head. "It's a miracle Scully. You couldn't conceive children...and now look," he patted the tiny, almost unnoticeable bulge on her stomach. "It must be my touch," he joked. She pursed her lips. "It just doesn't feel right Mulder. No, maybe that's the wrong way too put it. It feels too right." He grabbed her shoulders. "Dana Scully! For once, don't try to rationalise something. Just accept it." "You contradict yourself, Mulder. You never accept anything." He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her back. She relaxed into his embrace, and hugged him back. "I accept this, Scully." She swallowed as something washed over here. She didn't know how she was feeling. It was a tingle, that started at her toes, a warmth, that was spreading to her face, slowly. She suddenly realised how comfortable she felt with this man, how normal, yet special, it felt to be in his arms. He was staring down at her, with a look she couldn't determine. He kissed her lips gently, and she kissed back. -- Somewhere in the apartment, an alarm went off. Scully opened her eyes and groaned. That alarm meant it was 7AM. Time to get ready for work. Then remembered. She was lying on her couch, naked bar a huge afghan she kept folded on one arm of the couch, in Mulder's arms. He opened his eyes lazily, and stared at her. "Time for work, G-woman?" She nodded, and rubbed her eyes. "You have to work, too." He grinned at her, and kissed her forehead. "My hours are flexible." She sat up, keeping the blanket covering her chest. "Mine aren't. Skinner and Fraser will have my arse if I'm not at work at 9," she groped on the ground for her pajamas. She found the top, and slipped it on. His eyes followed her every move, as she stood up, putting on the rest of her clothes. She padded into the kitchen, and switched on the jug. "Coffee?" she called. "Extra black," he called back, sitting up. He pulled on his shirt, and walked into the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, her back to him. He walked silently up behind her, and slipped his arms around her waist. "Where's my breakfast, honey?" he crooned into her ear. She jumped, and swatted him with a tea towel. "I'm going to have a shower. Make your own." She slipped out of his arms, and walked towards the bathroom. He went to the door of the apartment, and opened it. Sure enough, lying on the floor was the newspaper. He picked it up, and smiled at the old woman across the hall, who was doing the same thing as him. She grinned, and winked at him. Mulder flushed. Twenty minutes later, they were both dressed and sitting at the table, finishing off breakfast. "I like your apartment," Mulder said, with a mouthful of toast. She smiled, shook her head and turned the page of the newspaper. "Yep," he said, biting off another mouthful. "Much better than my dingy thing." She nodded absently. "Nice and stylish. A spare room, too. Why did you get an apartment with two bedrooms if there's only one of you?" "Charles used to visit a lot," she answered, taking a small sip of coffee. Mulder nodded. "It'd look nice with a fresh coat of paint and some new furniture." Scully nodded. "Yes, it probably would." Mulder sat back, and grinned at her. "We could put Junior in that room and keep your room for ourselves." She looked up at him. "Why Mulder, you plan on picking china patterns?" He shrugged. "I wouldn't mind." She laughed nervously, unsure of what was going on. Suddenly, Mulder sprang out of his chair, and knelt at her feet. He grabbed one of her hands in his. "Dana Katherine Scully," he said, grinned at her comically. He opened his mouth, but at the last minute lost his nerve. "Will you pick out china patterns with me?" She rolled her eyes, and pulled her hand away. "Was that what you were really going to say?" she asked, turning back to the paper. He changed positions so he was sitting cross legged with his back against the table leg, and shook his head. "I was going to ask you to marry me, since we're having a kid together and all but I figured I'd you know, make an ass of myself." Scully nodded. "Oh." "Yeah." They were both silent. Suddenly she started crying. Mulder jumped up, berating himself for being an asshole. Joking around with a pregnant woman! He should have known she'd get hormonal. "What is it?" he asked, tilting her chin up, so she'd look at him. She pulled her face away. "I almost thought you were serious," she mumbled. He stared at her in surprise. "But I was!" She looked back at him. He rested his head on his hands, which were placed in her lap. He gazed up at her. "Marry me, Scully." -- 9.30AM Fraser was flipping through a case file when Scully hurried into the office, breathless, and half an hour late. He shot her a curious look. She was grinning like a maniac, and she smoothed down her suit. She sat at her desk, bending down to turn on the computer. He opened his mouth to ask, but shut it quickly. He had to be careful. "Running late this morning?" She looked up, startled. "Something like that," she glanced down at his desk. Sitting in the corner was a manila envelope, with her name typed on it. He followed her gaze. "You left this here last night," he explained. She felt a little bit ill. "You looked at it," she whispered. He nodded. "I was worried," he said, congratulating himself on how honest and concerned he sounded. He suddenly realised he was telling the truth. "So I just glanced at them. The seal was broken." He knew that that didn't justify looking at her personal things, but how could he tell her the real reason? There was no way he could tell her he'd had copies made, and passed the originals on? She got up, and took the envelope off the table. She took the photographs inside out, and looked over them carefully. She smiled softly. They were pictures from her ultrasound. "Congratulations," Fraser said. She glanced at him. "Thankyou." She knew he was dying to ask who the father was, but she didn't satisfy his curiosity. Instead, she slipped the pictures into her briefcase and turned back to her partner. "What are you looking at?" "A case Skinner passed on. Two murders in Atlantic City, New Jersey, in the last two months. And one would be victim, one David Sharp." "Why did Skinner hand it over to us?" Fraser grinned. "Both bodies were torn to shreds, with bite marks on their arms and legs. Or what was left of their arms and legs. What could it be?" Scully raised an eyebrow, and leaned against the desk, and folded her arms across her chest. "A wild animal, maybe? Someone trying to make it look like an animal attack?" "Yeah..." Fraser nodded slowly. "I could see how that one could work. A wild animal, very possible. Considering all the victims were in their houses at the time of attack." Scully glared at him. "You left out that detail." He handed her crime scene photographs. She made a face. "Gruesome." He nodded in agreement. "Both were killed pretty much a month apart. I did some research this morning, while you were AWOL," he handed her two folders, marked with the red X. "And came up with these." She flipped through them. They were practically identical to the recent file. Only these cases were ten and twenty years old, and occurred in different states. Both reports mentioned werewolves. Scully groaned. "You're going to tell me we're looking for a werewolf right?" Fraser shook his head. "I'm inclined to believe your wild animal theory, even though it has so many holes. And even though David Sharp claims a furry, man like werewolf attacked him." Scully shook her head, and smiled. "Who says I don't believe in werewolves?" -- 10AM Mulder sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He was halfway through a profile, and he hated putting himself in the mind of a serial rapist. There was a short knock at his door, and then it opened. SAC Kendrell walked over to his desk. "Congratulations," she said dryly. He looked up at her, surprised. How could she know? He hadn't told anyone. Was it that obvious? Was there a proverbial bounce in his step, a song in his heart? "What for?" he asked slowly. "Your spooky profile nabbed the guy. The VCU won't stop raving about you." "Oh," Mulder said, not surprised at all. He resisted the urge to say I told you so. She nodded, and turned to leave. "Agent Mulder?" "Yeah?" "I won't stand in your way." -- 12.30PM Atlantic City, New Jersey Special Agents Scully and Fraser stood on either side of David Sharp's hospital bed. His face was pale and drawn, and it blended in perfectly with the stark, crisp whiteness of the hospital room. His head was wrapped in a bandage, and he had a huge scar down his right cheek. From his medical report, Scully gathered that the scars continued underneath the sheets as well. His doctor, Dr Angela Lange had had a soft word with Scully before she entered the room. He was suffering from severe mental trauma, and when the paramedics had bought him in, he'd been pretty knocked about. Scully had winced at her choice of words. "He was a mess of flesh and blood, really." Now Scully stood at his bed, looking down at the poor man. He opened his eyes, grimacing in pain, as if it hurt to do so. "Are you the FBI agents?" Scully nodded. "I'm Special Agent Scully, and this is my partner, Special Agent Fraser." Fraser nodded politely. "I've already told the police everything I saw," he said, trying to sit up. He cried out in pain, and Scully rushed to help him to a sitting position. Fraser flipped to the copy of the report Sharp had given the Atlantic City PD. "You were attacked in your kitchen last Monday night?" Sharp nodded. "That's right." "And you didn't hear your attacker enter the house?" Sharp shook his head. "I heard a creak and turned around. It came flying at me, and I rolled out of it's way. It burnt it's hand on the stove or something, it screamed." Fraser nodded. "That's what you told the PD. And your description of your assailant?" Sharp licked his lips and look nervously from one agent to another. "It was tall...over 6 foot. It walked and fought like a man, except it had claws. It was...uh...furry..." Fraser nodded. Scully spoke up. "It says in the medical report the doctor found traces of animal fur in your wounds. Any idea how they got in there?" Sharp nodded. "The werewolf." -- "He's deluded," Fraser said, as the two agents got into the car, on the way to the PD Headquarters. "He's completely traumatised from the incident. Did you see the way he kept grabbing at the blanket? And his eyes kept flicking around. He was totally wired." Scully shrugged as she buckled up her seatbelt. "Maybe he was worried it was going to come back and finish the job." Fraser laughed and stopped at a red light. He turned to Scully. "Think it was a targeted attack?" Scully flipped open the casefile, to the section on the other two victims. "The local PD couldn't tie any of the victims together. And David Sharp said he didn't know either of them. So I'd have to say no. Completely random." Fraser nodded, and put his foot on the accelerator as the light turned green. They pulled to a stop outside the Police Department, and headed into the building. They flashed their badges. "FBI," Fraser said. "We're here to see Detective Ronstadt." The police officer nodded at them, and led them to an office. Scully smiled her thanks, and knocked on the door. "Come in," a female voice called. Scully opened the door to the office, and the two agents stepped inside. Fraser, Scully noticed, couldn't take his eyes of the detective. Detective Ronstadt stood up, and offered her a gloved hand. Scully shook it, then Fraser did. "You must be from the FBI," she said, gesturing to the two seats in front of her desk. Both agents took a seat, and she sat back down, and got a file out a drawer. "I assume you've read our report?" Scully nodded. "It was very concise. We went to see Mr Sharp, and he told us pretty much word for word what was in the report." Detective Ronstadt crossed her right leg over her left. "So he stuck to his story about werewolves?" Scully didn't miss the look of worry that flickered across the detective's face. "Yes, he did," Fraser said. "Do you believe him?" "Not at all. The incident upset him. The human mind is a strange thing." Scully nodded in agreement. "What about the other two murder victims who were both killed in the same manner Mr. Sharp was almost killed?" Detective Ronstadt took in her breath. "At first we thought the other two murders were unrelated. Until the animal hair was found in Sharp's injuries as well." "As well? The reports we have don't mention any mention of animal hair." The detective pursed her lips. "It must have been left out by mistake." "And there are no suspects?" Fraser asked. The detective shook her head. "No. Whoever it was, they were real good. Very thorough. The only thing left at the crime scenes was animal fur." "Has it been tested?" Scully asked. "Yes. It...it could not be identified." Scully stood up. "You've been very helpful, Detective. If we need anything else, we'll be in touch." Fraser stood as well, and nodded. Detective Ronstadt showed them to the door. "I'm glad I could help you," she said, before shutting the door behind them. Outside, Fraser pointed to a sandwich shop across the road. "Up for a late lunch, Agent Scully?" As if on cue, Scully's stomach growled. She nodded. "Sounds good." -- "Excuse me?" Scully looked up from her cheese, lettuce and tomato sandwich. Fraser looked up, too. "Yes?" Scully said. "Are you the FBI agents called in about the murders?" The man asked. Scully nodded, glancing quickly at Fraser. He shrugged. The man slid into the booth next to Fraser, and settled back into the upholstery. "Maybe you can help me. God knows the police haven't been any help." "What is it, sir?" Scully asked, suddenly not hungry. The man looked around furtively. "A few nights ago, I'd just come out of the bar upstairs, and I went across to the alleyway next to the Police station to take a leak. I was standing around, doing my business, when I felt something warm on my neck. I turned around and this creature was standing before me! It was huge, at least 7 foot. It had large red eyes, and a slimy mouth. It was covered in fur. It growled, and I ran around the corner, screaming blue murder. The next morning, I phoned the police department and spoke to Detective Ronstadt. She said she'd look into it, but I haven't heard anything." Fraser glanced at Scully. She was hiding a smile. "Had you been drinking Mr. uhhh..." "Forest. Mr. Forest. I only had a shot of whisky, I do every night. Keeps you healthy they say. Keeps me nice and warm at any rate." "Our of curiosity, Mr. Forest," Scully said. "Did this creature resemble a werewolf?" Forest nodded violently. "Yes it did ma'am." Scully smiled. "We'll look into it for you." Mr. Forest stood up. "Thankyou very much agents. Just ask Jack at the bar about me if you need to find me," he tipped his hat to them, and walked out of the restaurant. Fraser raised his eyebrows at Scully. "You believe him?" Scully tipped an imaginary hat at her partner. "Sure do." -- Motel 6 Atlantic City, New Jersey 7.30PM Scully was relaxing in a bubble bath when her cell phone rang. She groaned, and reached over to her heap of clothes on the ground to get it, almost falling out of the bath in the process. "Scully." "Scully, it's me. I spoke to Skinner, he said you're in New Jersey." "I sure am Mulder. I was going to call you as soon as I got out of this bath. Where are you?" "Home." Scully briefly wondered if he was referring to her apartment or his. "You know that profile I did?" he continued. Before she could answer, he went on. "They solved the case. Kendrell was so pissed I thought she was going to sock me." Scully laughed, and settled back into the bubbles. She new he was dying to ask about the case, but he was holding himself back. "What do you know about werewolves, Mulder?" She could practically see his grin. "They usual come out around a full moon. You're in luck, Scully the last full moon was two days ago." "Oh goody." "Werewolves usually wake up in their human form unaware of what they've done. If they were, for example, smacked in the face in the other form, in their human form they will have the appearance of someone smacked in the face. Get what I mean? If you're bitten by a werewolf, you turn into one. They can only be killed by silver bullets wah wah wah. Atlantic City have a werewolf problem?" Scully smiled. "Well Mulder, if all that is true we're probably dealing with two werewolves now." "Want me to come and check things out?" "I'll be fine. Have Skinner send some silver bullets to the AC field office," she joked. "Be careful Scully." "I'm fine, Mulder." "Okay. Look Scully I gotta go, I'll call you back later." "Okay," she hung up, and settled back into her bath. -- Apt. 42 Alexandria, Virginia Mulder slowly hung up the phone, and turned, staring down the barrel of a gun. "Talking to the missus, Mulder?" Mulder scowled and didn't answer. "What do you want, Krychek?" Alex Krychek grinned at him. "I tried to be your friend, Mulder," he said, before knocking him out with the butt of the gun. -- Scully opened her eyes, and shivered. She stepped out of the bath, and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. She dressed quickly, and was startled by a knock at the door. She looked through the peephole. Fraser was standing outside, a plastic bag in his hand. She opened the door, and let him in. "I hope you like Chinese, Agent Scully." She smiled. "What have you got?" The two agents gorged themselves on Chinese food, discussing the case. The conversation slowly dwindled, and Scully reveled in the companionable silence. "Everything okay?" Fraser asked suddenly, gesturing in the general direction of Scully's stomach. She nodded, and smiled. "Wonderful." "If I may be so blunt, Agent Scully, is Agent Mulder the baby's father?" Scully didn't look at all taken aback by the question. She knew Fraser wanted to ask it, she had just wondered how long it would take him to ask. Not long, obviously. "Yes, Agent Fraser." Fraser didn't look surprised. He suspected it, she supposed. Probably expected it. "Will you be taking leave from the FBI?" "I haven't really thought about it," Scully said honestly. Fraser studied her face carefully. He felt guilty. He really did like this woman, and respected her, but he valued his own life more, so he forged on. "Will you and Agent Mulder get married?" Scully smiled, suddenly uncomfortable. "Why all the questions?" Fraser shrugged. "I'm curious, and you're the enigmatic Dr Scully." "We've discussed it," was all she would say. -- Washington, DC 11AM Assistant Director Walter Skinner hesitated. He should just let her get on with her job. He could worry about it. No, he decided. She had to be told. He picked up the phone and dialed. -- There had been another murder, in the hospital parking lot. Scully surveyed the scene and grimaced as her eyes fell on the body. Fraser groaned as she snapped on a latex glove. Her cell phone rang. She swore, and shot an apologetic look at Fraser. He lifted his hands, palms upwards, as if to say, Doesn't bother me. "Scully," she said, turning away. "Agent Scully." "Sir!" she shot a nervous glance at Fraser. He cocked his head inquisitively. "Agent Scully, Agent Mulder didn't show up for work this morning. I was wondering if you knew of his whereabouts?" Scully remembered suddenly Mulder hadn't called her back like he promised. She felt sick. Mulder never broke a promise. "No sir. Have you tried his apartment?" "Yes," Skinner cleared his throat. "And yours." So he knew. She didn't know how, but he did. "I had an agent go to his apartment a little earlier, given Agent Mulder's previous record. He found traces of blood on Mulder's carpet. Fresh stains." Fraser rushed forward as he saw Scully's knees buckle. He led her to the car, and sat her down in the passenger seat. "I'll be in DC as soon as I can be," she said, her face pale. She pressed end, and Fraser stared at her worriedly. "Agent Mulder's missing," she said. "Again." -- Two days later Washington, DC Scully sat in Skinner's office as he spoke to Agent Fraser. Fraser had opted to stay in New Jersey, and solve the case. They'd caught the second murderer. David Sharp. Scully remembered what Mulder had said. If you're bitten by a werewolf, you turn into one yourself. Skinner hung up the phone, and turned to Scully. "I'm ordering you to take time off." Scully shook her head. "Sir, I..." "Agent Scully. Given the circumstances, I think it would be best. Take a month of. Hell, take the next four months off. I'm worried about your health." "I'm not," Scully said quietly. "And I'm a doctor." "At least a week, then." Scully considered it. She could look for Mulder. She nodded. "A week," she stood up. "I'll see you in exactly one week, sir." -- Three days later Annapolis, Maryland Scully hung up the phone, scowling to herself. The Lone Gunmen were just as stumped as she was. He hadn't said anything to them. A knock at the door startled Scully out of her reverie. She got up to answer it, noticing that her hands were shaking. The opened the door without checking the peep hole. Standing in front of her was Mulder. He looked at her pitifully. "What am I doing here?" -- Scully sat next to Mulder on her bed, holding his hand. "I don't remember anything, Scully. I remember calling you, and that's it. Everything after that is just...gone. Until I woke up in your hallway this morning." Scully smoothed his hair out of his face, worry lines creasing her forehead. "I was wrong when I said everything was perfect," she said. "It's all going wrong." She began to cry, and he pulled her down next to him, wrapping her in his arms. "Leave the FBI, Scully," he said. "Become a doctor. Or ask for a transfer to another division. Come and work with me at the ISU." Scully was quiet. She'd been having her own doubts about the X-Files. But she didn't want to leave them to other agents, and she doubted Mulder did either. She wanted to close them down. Hide them away again. They'd caused nothing but trouble and grief. -- Assistant Director Skinner's Office "What more do you want, Krychek?" The Assistant Director snarled, pushing the barrel of the gun out of his face. Krychek glared at the AD. "I want to live." "Your life is worthless." "Are you telling me, Walter, that'd you'd choose Mulder's life over yours?" Krychek raised the gun again. Skinner swallowed carefully. "You don't know for certain that the baby will be immune..." "That kid is our Jesus Christ. I'm not going to miss the second coming." Skinner slammed his fist down on the desk. "Get out my office." Krychek pulled a small controller out of his pocket. Skinner started to sweat. Krychek pulled a lever, and Skinner grimaced in pain. "You bastard," he gasped, veins in his neck and head standing out. Krychek pushed the lever up one. Skinner fell against the desk, his face turning purple. "All right," he agreed. Krychek pulled the lever back, and Skinner lay gasping against his desk, his face slowly returning to normal. Krychek walked to the door, and turned back. "Don't forget," he said, and left the office. --------------------------------------- CHAPTER FIVE --------------------------------------- "Life just keeps getting harder and it just keeps getting harder to hide the darker it is around me the easier it is to see inside" 'Glass House' Ani Difranco J.Edgar Hoover Building Washington, DC 9AM Fraser entered the office to find Scully putting things into a large cardboard box on her desk. It was labelled 'Mulder'. On the ground was another cardboard box, already full and sealed labelled 'Scully'. There was an empty box on his desk. "You go away for a few days and look what happens," Fraser said, looking at her curiously. "We've been reassigned," Scully said, without looking at him. Fraser leaned against his desk, his arms folded across his chest. "Why?" "The X-Files has been closed down. Permanently." Fraser didn't say anything. He could hear the hurt in her voice, and he understood. The X-Files was her life. He saw her pause as she picked up a mug, with a picture of a blue monster on it. Her shoulders began to shake, and she put the mug down, her head bent, her hair framing her face. He walked over to her, and touched her shoulder gently. She looked up at him, her cheeks damp, her eyes bright. "When will it stop?" she asked, her voice breaking. Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and she moved into them. He patted her back awkwardly as she cried into his chest. She pulled away from him, and continued packing up the office. "Where have you been reassigned to?" "A teaching job at Quantico," her voice was emotionless. "It's back to the VCU you for you." Fraser said nothing. Together, they packed up the office silently. They carried the boxes into the hall, and Scully paused in the doorway of the basement office. Fraser stayed in the hall. She walked into the room, reflecting on the last seven and a half years. Suddenly, she felt something stir in her stomach. A weak thump thudded against her womb. Smiling through her tears, she clutched her stomach, searching for more signs of life. Finally, she switched off the lights. The office was flooded in darkness, and she leaned against the wall and sobbed. -- Two Weeks later Quantico Washington, DC 6PM Scully looked up at the sound of a knock on her door. Mulder stood in the doorway, a thumb holding his jacket over his shoulder. He grinned at her. "You finished?" She nodded, and stood up from her chair, stretching slightly. As she stretched her arms up over her head, Mulder smiled at the sight of her stomach sticking out slightly. She shrugged into her jacket, and switched off the office light. She said goodbye to her secretary, and she walked out into the parking lot, Mulder placing his hand on the small of her back, guiding her. Mulder slid into the driver's seat of the car, and Scully into the passenger seat. He started the engine, and began to drive in the opposite direction to Scully's apartment. "Mulder?" she asked. He just smiled. -- "My church? Mulder, why are we...?" He grinned at her, and slid an arm around her waist. Fishing one hand into his pocket, he pulled out two rings. He held them out to her. One was plain gold, and the other was studded with diamonds. He held the diamond one out to her. "Read the inscription." Wordlessly, she did as she was told. The truth is light. Mulder kissed her forehead softly, and led her into the building. Standing in the first few pews was Maggie Scully, Bill and Tara Scully, Walter Skinner and all three lone gunmen. They were all in their best clothes. Scully wordlessly hugged each of them. Her stomach fluttering, she and Mulder stood in front of Father McCue. "We gather here today..." -- Krychek stood in the shadows, watching the events unfolding in front of him. The X-Files were closed now. The less Mulder and Scully knew about the new project, the one that centered around them, the better. He smiled, knowing that he'd taken something of Mulder's that Mulder didn't know was gone. He was still dissatisfied. The tests were still incomplete. -- Annapolis, Maryland 10.13PM Scully dropped her keys on the coffee table, and slumped onto the couch, kicking off her shoes. Mulder stood in front of her, grinning. "Mulder?" "Yeah?" "We just got married." "I noticed, Scully. Or should I call you Mulder?" he asked, sitting down next to her. She smiled wryly. "One Mulder in this partnership is enough." Mulder noted with interest that she hadn't said relationship. He was, in a way, glad. Relationship wasn't the right word. It was a lot deeper than that. -- Two weeks later Scully rolled over and looked at the clock. It read 3.04AM. She sighted, and shifted fitfully. She just couldn't sleep. She glanced over at Mulder, who was hogging the blankets and sleeping peacefully for once. She lifted herself out of bed, and padded into the kitchen, a hand absently on the bulge at her stomach. She turned on the tap, and poured herself a glass of water. She heard a creak behind her and she froze. "Can't sleep?" the voice was hushed but she'd recognise it anywhere. She whirled around, her eyes blazing. "What are you doing here?" "I thought I'd drop by, see how things are going. Very well, I see." "Get out," she hissed, preying she didn't wake Mulder. She heard something to her left. Before she had a chance to turn and look, she was out cold. -- The alarm went off. Mulder jerked awake, and fumbled for the snooze button. He rolled over, and shook his head. Scully was already awake. He got out of bed, and went into the kitchen. The floor was wet. His eyes searched the ground carefully. One the ground near the sink was a shattered glass. Mulder bent down to look at the pieces, then looked over at the door the apartment. He could see from there that the door was unlocked. He stood up. "Scully!" -- Annapolis, Maryland 9AM Mulder sat on the couch in Scully's apartment, his eyes searching the room for any sign of her whereabouts. Numerous FBI agents were combing the apartment for any evidence. So far, they had found nothing other than the shattered glass. He looked up as Assistant Director Skinner entered the open doorway. "Agent Mulder." "Where is she?" "Agent Mulder, I..." Mulder jumped to his feet, his face just inches away from the AD's. "Where is she? Where did he take her?" "Fox?" The AD and the agent turned to the doorway. Margaret Scully was standing there, her face pale. Mulder turned his head away. "Dana! Where's Dana?" Skinner walked over to Maggie Scully, and put an arm comfortingly on her shoulder. He explained that Scully was missing. "Not again..." Maggie whispered, her eyes on Mulder. He was on the couch again, his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. ----------------------------- CHAPTER SIX ----------------------------- "Through this world I stumble so many times betrayed trying to find an honest word trying to find the truth enslaved you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes" 'Possession' Sarah McLachlan There was a woman's voice, soothing and gentle. She couldn't see - maybe she was blind. It was all white - hot, burning, white. She could hear constant mechanical beeps. They invaded her head, until with each beep she began to shudder. She couldn't move her arms, or her legs. She twisted her neck, crying out. She felt a soft pressure on her stomach, and memories pricked at the edges of her mind, but she couldn't hold onto them and decipher them. "Dana," came the voice. "Dana, don't be frightened." "Mom? Mom? Where are you?" she called, the white light still encompassing her. "No Dana. Sleep, Dana. Sleep." She felt a gentle caress on her cheek, and the white light faded to black. -- The tables had turned again. It was ironic, really, he reflected. The way it was going from his quest to hers to his again. The X-Files were still closed, that much hadn't changed. But in the three weeks that Scully had been missing, Mulder had felt empty inside. By day, he worked in the ISU, handing in profile after profile to SAC Kendrell, who looked at him with a mixture of pity and lust. At night, he and the gunmen tried to locate Alex Krychek and Marita Covarrubias. When the authorities found out that Scully was pregnant, they tried even harder to locate her. Not only did they fear for Scully's life, but for her unborn child, too. This week, she would be seven months pregnant. Mulder sat in his office in the ISU, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand. A knock on the door was a welcome distraction. Mulder sat back in his chair, and called, "Come in." The door opened, and Special Agent Joshua Fraser stepped into the room quickly, shutting and locking the door behind him. Mulder watched with interest as the younger agent searched the walls and checked the ceiling. "It's clean," Mulder said, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. Did this guy really think that Mulder would work somewhere that was wired? Fraser looked troubled, and Mulder wondered briefly if he was having trouble with a case in the VCU and wanted Mulder's help. "It's about Agent Scully," Fraser said finally, feeling a bead of sweat drip into the back of his shirt. Without waiting for Mulder to reply, he continued. "If they find out I've come to you, they'll kill me. I guess it's catch 22 - either way I'm going to die." Mulder sat an listened for half an hour, as the story of Fraser's allegiance with Alex Krychek spilled out. How, at first, he didn't believe him. An alien race coming to colonise earth? But as his work on the X-Files progressed, he realised it was a possibility. He'd agreed to spy on Agent Scully, and report back to Krychek. Mulder silently fumed, trying to contain his anger. Scully had trusted this man, and he'd betrayed her. Fraser reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He handed it to Mulder. Written on it, in Fraser's neat handwriting, was a phone number. Underneath the phone number were the letters JFOOHJMK9. "When you call the number, quote those letters. I have no idea what they mean. I assume they're some kind of reference number." Fraser unlocked the office door, and opened it. Without looking back, he shut the door behind him and hurried out into the parking lot. -- The sniper followed his target, aiming the red dot at the man's chest. The sniper's hand slipped, and the dot crept up to the man's face. The man looked down in distress, and then over to the sniper's hiding place. In the blink of an eye, the sniper steadied the gun, and fired. -- The shot that killed Special Agent Joshua Fraser was silent. He lay on the concrete, blood blooming out from his chest, soaking through his white shirt. It pooled on the ground beneath him, his expression one of pure terror. His jaw suddenly went slack, as if his spirit, or soul, had left his body. -- She slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She was in a hospital room, her hands and feet strapped to the bed, a drip attached to her right hand. Her stomach was larger than she remembered. She wondered how long she'd been asleep for. She noticed a video camera in the corner of the room, and she realised it was recording her every move. She started to thrash about, yelling at the top of her lungs. She heard feet running down the corridor outside her room, and the door was flung open. A doctor walked into the room, his face impassive. "Where am I?" she asked, then began to cough. Talking hurt her throat. The doctor didn't answer. He checked her vital signs, and took a blood sample. "Get away from me!" she yelled, as he took the blood. She tried to lash out at him, but the bonds on her hands and feet restricted her movements. He pocketed the blood sample in his lab coat, and left the room, shutting it behind her. She heard a dead bolt being slid into place. A few minutes later, it slid back again, and a familiar figure entered the room. She stared back at him defiantly, and he shut the door behind him, walking over to the edge of the bed. "Where am I?" she asked. "A top secret medical facility," he said, filling a glass with water. He held it to her lips. "Drink," he instructed. She did, welcoming the cool feeling on the back of her throat. He placed the glass on the table next to her bed. "How long have I been here?" she asked. It hurt a lot less to talk now. "Three weeks." "Why am I here?" He didn't answer. He looked back at her silently. "Why am I here?" she was yelling now. "What have you done to me?" He took a syringe out of his pocket, and she screamed at him to get away from her as he injected it into her shoulder. Almost instantly, her head lolled back, and she passed out. -- Mulder picked up the phone and dialed. He heard the phone get picked up, but no one said anything. He quoted the sequence of letters on the slip of paper Fraser had given him. Fraser, who had been found dead in the parking lot the day before, just minutes after coming to see Mulder. "Please hold," a voice suddenly said. A few minutes later, a familiar voice came over the line. "Agent Mulder. What a surprise." Mulder sat gripping the phone in shock. Of course, he thought. Fraser was dead. They knew he'd spoken to Mulder. And part of him had expected Alex Krychek to be on the other end of the line. He'd already ran a check on the number. It 'didn't exist'. So until he'd called it, he thought that Fraser had mislead him, and he'd been killed for no reason. "Where is she?" Mulder demanded. "Where is who?" "Don't play games with me, Krychek." Sitting across from Mulder was the lone gunmen, Langly, Byers and Frohikie. They were attempting to trace the location Mulder had called. "Keep him talking," Langly hissed. Byers started a countdown from 90. In 90 seconds they'd have him. "You killed Fraser," Mulder said, glancing at Byers. He gave Mulder a thumbs up. Krychek laughed. "It wasn't me that fired the shot." "His blood is on your hands! But then, that's nothing new for you, is it Krychek?" "70," Byers whispered. "69...68..." Krychek laughed again. "I don't think you called to talk about Joshua Fraser." "Where is Scully?" "She's safe, Mulder." "I don't believe you. If you hurt her," Mulder said, beginning to get riled up. "I will hunt you down, and I will kill you. Do you hear me, you motherfucking son of a bitch? If you hurt her I will kill you!" he was shouting now, holding back tears, vomit or both. Frohikie glanced up from the computer at Mulder worriedly, but quickly looked away. Mulder was completely gone. "Where is she? Where the fuck is she?!" "20..." Byers said. "19...18...17..." "I told you Mulder. We're looking after her." Mulder stopped yelling, his breath catching in his throat. "The baby..." he whimpered, his voice was barely more than a whisper. The lone gunmen glanced at each other nervously. The thought had only just occurred to them. "She's fine, Mulder." "The baby, dammit!" "10..." He was crying now, tears running unhindered down his cheeks. "She's fine," Krychek repeated. "They're both fine." All of a sudden, Krychek felt sorry for this man. He wasn't a bad person. Just a little misguided. And completely selfless. The complete opposite of Krychek. "5...4...3..." "Where is she?" Mulder asked. Krychek said nothing. Mulder could hear his breath coming through the line. "2..." "Where is she?" Mulder asked again. "1..." Krychek said nothing. He'd hung up. Mulder put the phone down, and looked anxiously at the lone gunmen. They glanced at each other. "A DC address," Langly said. -- 136 Hunter St., Washington DC Mulder stepped into the building, his gun drawn. It was dark, and there was no one at the reception desk. The light on the elevator was off. A door to his left read 'Stairs'. He went through it. Two options met him on the other side of the door - up or down. He didn't have time to flip a coin, so he went down. A long corridor met his eyes, with doors on either side. One of the doors open, and a doctor stepped out into the corridor. His eyes met Mulder's, and he turned back into the room he'd just exited. Alex Krychek emerged behind him. "Where is she?" Mulder yelled. Krychek put a finger to his lips. "Don't interrupt," he said. Mulder pushed past Krychek, into the room he'd just left. It was huge. There was a bright light overhead, and an operating table in the middle. On the operating table, surrounded by doctors, lay Dana Scully. The doctors looked up as Mulder entered. "Did it work?" one asked. Another one nodded. "We sped up the growth process..." Mulder ran to Scully, pushing to doctors out of the way. Dimly, he heard Krychek behind him, ushering everyone out of the room. There were yells and shouts all around, as Krychek instructed everyone in the building to gather what was vitally important, and clear out. It was a process everyone was familiar with. Relocation. On the operating table, Scully was coming too, clutching her stomach. "Something's wrong..." she whispered to Mulder. "Help me!" Mulder yelled, trying to help her off the operating table. He put an arm around her waist, and her knees buckled, a puddle of water forming on the floor. She stared up at him, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Mulder?" He nodded. She began to cry, and doubled over as a wave of pain hit her. "Mulder, I think I'm going into premature labor." Krychek stood in the hall, as Mulder helped Scully out of the room. He face was red, not masking his anger. He'd have to get the baby another way. He'd known Mulder was coming, which was why he'd gotten the doctors to induce the labor. He wanted to clear out before he arrived. They were too slow. "Help me," Mulder begged, as Scully stumbled again. Krychek shook his head. "I don't know how to deliver a baby." "Come on," a voice said behind them. They all turned. Marita was standing there, holding a door open. The door led to a parking lot, where a car was waiting. Krychek watched Marita help Mulder and Scully to the car. Mulder jumped into the driver's seat, and left the two behind. He squealed around a corner, the car sliding dangerously close to a street sign. In the backseat, Scully lay pale and panting. He glanced in the rearview mirror, and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. -- Georgetown Medical Center 10PM Scully sat on the bed, puffing and panting, and rolled her eyes. Mulder was arguing with the doctor. He wanted to stop Scully from having the baby, seeing as it was one and a half months early. "Shut...the...fuck...up...Mulder," Scully panted, grabbing his hand. The doctor shook his head. "There's nothing I can do, Agent Mulder. We'll play it by ear." "You will _not_ play it by ear! Don't you know what the fuck you're doing?" Mulder yelled. Scully moaned in pain, and Mulder turned his attention back to her. "Aren't you meant to push or something, Scully?" he asked, gripping her hand harder than she was gripping it back. She rolled her head to look at him, sweat pouring off her face. "Mulder, let me have this baby, ok?" she started groaning and puffing again. "I have a head!" the doctor called. Mulder glared at him, wanting to smack _him_ in _his_ head. Scully pulled on his hand, and he focused on her again. "One more, sweetie," a nurse standing next to Scully said. "One big push." Scully yelled, a loud, guttural noise that scared the shit out of Mulder. Her face went red, and he worried she was going to pass out. Suddenly, the sound of a baby's wail could be heard resonating around the room, and the doctor cut the umbilical cord. "Unbelievable," the nurse breathed. "Eight weeks premature and perfectly healthy..." Scully's head collapsed against the pillows, and Mulder grinned at her, wiping the sweat off her face and the hair out of her eyes. A few minutes later, the doctor walked over to the two, a bundle of blankets in his arms. The blankets were crying, and Mulder realised the doctor was holding his child. He handed the baby to Scully. "You have a...healthy...baby girl," he said in amazement. Scully gently pushed the edge of the blanket out of the way, and her baby lay sleeping in her arms. Scully kissed it's little forehead, and Mulder stared down at his wife and child, tears running down his cheeks. Scully held her out to him, and Mulder hesitated. "What if I drop her?" Scully smiled. "You won't." He took his daughter awkwardly, and a tiny fist popped out of the blankets. He put a finger in the palm of her hand, and her fingers curled around it. He grinned at Scully, and Scully, exhausted but overjoyed, grinned back. -- Two days later Scully sat up in her hospital bed, nursing her daughter. The private room was littered with flowers and balloons. A huge arrangement and an even bigger pink teddy bear had arrived that morning from the gunmen. Maggie and Tara Scully had visited the day before, bringing with them toys and clothes and instructions on how to change diapers, feeding and bathing. Mulder hadn't left Scully's room since the birth, and he didn't plan on leaving any time soon. He sat in the chair next to the bed, watching intently. "Scully?" "Hmm..?" "What's her name?" Scully looked surprised. "I'd almost forgotten she needed a name." Mulder laughed softly, playing absently with a fluffy stuffed fox. It had been a gift from Danny. "What about something completely unrelated to either of us?" Scully nodded. "Elizabeth?" Mulder wrinkled his nose. "Annie?" Scully wrinkled _her_ nose. "Kayla." "Heather." "Hannah," Scully said, then smiled as the baby lifted her head and began to coo. Mulder leaned over, and kissed the baby's forehead. "Hannah?" he asked. She blew a spit bubble. Scully raised her eyebrows, and grinned wryly. "I think she likes it." "Hannah Mulder," Mulder said, smiling. "Hannah Mulder," Scully repeated. She stroked Hannah's face. Hannah sighed contentedly, made a face, and threw up. Mulder found that hilariously funny, and laughed until his sides hurt.