From: "jmccaw" <jmccaw@clear.net.nz>
Date: Tue, 1 May 2001 23:07:29 +1200
Subject: 2nd try to submitt
Source: direct

Title: Wood Creek
Author: Parrot
email: jmccaw@clear.net.nz
Rating: PG
Classification: T, MT, A, R
Keywords: MSR, Chickenpox
Spoliers: S7 up to FPS.  Happens a week after that case.
Summary:  On a murder investigation in the Rockies Mulder falls ill 
and takes to his bed while Scully carries on trying to solve the 
case on her own.  Which one of them is in the most danger?
Archive: Please.
Disclaimer:  Someone else's characters.  My story.  If you think 
you've read this before see authors notes at end.


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Snow was falling in large fluffy flakes.  Mulder sat mesmerised 
and watched.  The snow seemed to come whizzing at the car 
before suddenly veering up and over the roof.  Looking at 
falling snow from a moving vehicle was like watching the star 
field as the Starship Enterprise went into warp drive.  Or was it 
the Millennium Falcon jumping into Hyperspace?  Muzzily he 
worried the question for a moment and decided both.  They both 
did it.  His eyelids were heavy.  This was hypnotic.  He was 
having real trouble keeping his eyes open.  But hey, he nearly 
giggled, it didn't matter because this time he wasn't driving.  
For some reason that amused him, it must be the altitude 
affecting him.  Scully the superwoman was in charge again.  He 
pictured her in her cyber gear kicking butt.  Shame she couldn't 
keep that outfit.  He snorted a little, and that was a mistake 
because it made him cough.  And coughing hurt. Raw throat and 
inflamed chest made coughing agony and the effort made his 
temples throb.  Fuck, he would have screamed, but once he'd 
finally stopped coughing he didn't have the breath.  The snow 
didn't seem so pretty any more.  He felt awful.

He took a glance at Scully but she was studiously ignoring him.  
Knowing how Scully's doctoring instincts were nearly 
pathological, ignoring his painful cough was a sign of how 
angry she was at him.  Scully was pissed off.  Her annoyance 
wafted through the car like a malevolent fog.  Mulder couldn't 
miss it.  She'd been mad all week.  Ever since she'd saved his 
ass from the cyber bitch she had been treating him like a 
defective two year old.  Today was no exception.  She was mad 
because he was here when he should be home in bed.  (Ha).  
She was mad because she thought he didn't trust her to do a job 
on her own.  And, Mulder thought, she was really mad because 
he'd embarrassed her on the plane.  But he hadn't been able to 
clear his nose and the pressure in his ears was agony.  So the 
hostess had been so attentive and caring.  Well wasn't that what 
she was paid to do?  It certainly wasn't Mulder's fault that she 
had had legs to her armpits and that when she bent down to 
offer him asprin her boobs had nearly fallen out of her blouse.  
That wasn't his fault at all.

He tried a sniff.  His nose was as stuffed as ever but driving up 
this mountain had reduced the pain in his ears thank god.  He 
didn't think he could have survived much more of that even 
with those heavy duty pills Scully had given him.  Maybe they 
were what was making the snow so mesmerising.  Hell, 
watching the snow sure beat the hell out of watching Scully 
with her mouth set in that tight little line.

God we don't get on like we used to, Mulder thought with a 
twinge.  He did glance at her and yes she was staring straight 
ahead with her lips tight shut.  She's had enough of me.  His 
head throbbed with pain.  We can still work together, but we 
don't 'feel' together like we used to. He was trying so hard to 
get that back.  He needed their togetherness so badly.  But god 
damn it he'd got it wrong again.  The case wasn't even an X 
file, just a messy murder.  She had been the one requested for 
her forensic expertise.  He had just decided to tag along.  After 
all wasn't he the wonder profiler. He should have let her go with 
someone else.  Hell he should have let her go alone.  But he 
couldn't.

And the fucking heater in the car didn't work and it was 
freezing.  God, he thought, what am I doing here?

'For christ sake Mulder.  Stop doing that!'

'What?'

'All those revolting snorting noises.  Blow your nose!'

Oh fuck you Scully!   But of course he didn't say it.  

Turning to face the door he curled up and wiped his eyes.  He 
did need his handkerchief, but it was no use on his nose, that 
was too blocked. He wrapped myself around the lump of misery 
in his chest and wondered how he was ever going to survive 
these next few days until he could get home again.  Alone.

- - - -

Scully was starting to get worried.  And she wasn't worried 
about Mulder.  So he had a cold and was milking it for all it was 
worth.  Well too bad.  He'd wanted to come.  He could live with 
it.  No, she was concerned that if this snow kept up they weren't 
going to get through to their destination, the town of Chippewa.  
That meant they wouldn't get to the crime scene until the 
following day, if then.  They were supposed to have flown up 
from Denver but the snow storm ruined that idea.  She sighed.  
She hated driving in the snow.  It had not been a good day so 
far.

She ran her mind over what she knew about the case.  It wasn't 
much.  The murders had occurred the night before, Tuesday and 
it was now about 4pm Wednesday.  Another day and the trail to 
the killer would be very cold.  Skinner had approached her that 
morning with just the basic facts: two dead, dismemberment and 
disembowelment.  Mutilation.  The locals were having trouble 
working out what part fitted what body let alone finding 
anything to help solve the crime.  Could she help?  Hell, Mulder 
was being such a pain in the butt she'd do anything to get out of 
the office.  

Only now that a) he had come too, and b) it involved a three 
hour drive over mountains in the snow to get to the crime scene.  
Oh and c) he had thrown a screaming fit for the benefit of the 
bimbo air hostess.  She really wished she had declined.

And she really wished that Mulder hadn't insisted on coming.

Scully couldn't stand the way that men behaved when they got a 
sniffle.  It turned into such a big deal, death was imminent and 
they were not going to go quietly.  She'd seen dying people with 
more fortitude than Mulder with a cold.  Hell she even 
remembered her mother remarking on that once.  I don't know, 
she thought.  I don't know.  That's the trouble.  Something is 
the trouble and I don't even know what.  

What?  What Mulder, what?

She fiddled with the radio a bit and found a country music 
station, what a surprise.  The sentiment annoyed her and she 
turned it off.  She turned the heater down.  She risked a looked 
at Mulder.  He was curled up asleep.  He wasn't well, she knew 
that.  He hadn't said a thing about the case, no theories, no 
questions.  It wasn't normal.  His breathing was wheezy, the 
fact that he was asleep at all meant he wasn't well, but she still 
felt mad. She had been steeling herself to put a little distance 
between them.  She desperately needed some space of her own. 
They had become so close lately and that was a good thing.  It 
was.  But after all these years she was used to being alone and 
Mulder took up so much of her energy.  Especially recently with 
his mother's death and finding out about Samantha.  She loved 
him sure, but she also felt smothered.  He'd placed all of his 
love and trust and attention on her in the last few weeks and she 
was having trouble breathing.  She had wanted to talk to him 
about having a week apart.  She hadn't had the chance.  Now he 
was sick she wanted to touch him and stroke him and make him 
better, as always.  God!  That made her mad!

They were getting higher into the mountains and the snow was 
starting to settle on the road.  It was getting thick enough to 
worry her.  She fought to unfold the map and figure out where 
the hell they were.  It didn't help that Mulder was moaning and 
twitching in his sleep.  Shit, if he was ill they couldn't afford to 
get stuck out over night.  Did this road go any higher or not?  It 
wasn't easy to tell but she was fairly sure it was only about 
another 15 to 20 miles to go.  The trouble was that in not 
knowing the road she couldn't decide whether or not to risk it.

Mulder was getting more agitated - nightmares, what a surprise.  
Hell Mulder, she thought, why do you have to do this to me?  
He was really thrashing around. You know I can't leave you 
when you need me.  Shit this was turning into a biggy.  How the 
hell had he got deeply enough asleep to have a nightmare at this 
time of the day?  He fought and moaned and Scully's heart 
lurched.  He was terrified.  Then he began calling her name.

Reaching over to try and shake him awake Scully gasped with 
shock.  He was burning hot!  'Mulder.'  She shook him harder.  
'Mulder, wake up, you're dreaming!'  She suddenly realised 
she'd stopped the car and had both hands on him, willing him 
awake.

He jerked upright and stared at her, eyes wide with terror.  'It's 
alright.  It's alright,' she soothed.  'You were dreaming.'

His chest was heaving and it took a moment for the dream to 
fade and let him come back to his surroundings.  She watched 
fear turn to recognition in his eyes then change to 
embarrassment and inexplicably to pain.

'Oh.'  He took a deep breath and squirmed in the seat.  Scully 
could feel his pulse slowing, and the heat radiating off him.  He 
turned from her to the window and coughed. It obviously hurt.  
He took a minute to recover.  Now Scully admitted she might be 
concerned.  She started trying to unwrap him from his coat.

Mulder took a shaky breath and tried to be nonchalant.  'The 
snow's worse.'
 
'That's not the only thing that's worse,' Scully said pointedly.

He became aware of what she was doing with the coat and 
snatched the woollen garment back around himself.  They had a 
brief tussle before Scully sat back and tried to talk him out of it 
instead.  'Mulder you've got a temperature.  You've got to cool 
down a little.'

'I'm frozen.'

'I'm sure you feel you are, but it's the fever.'

'So fucking reasonable.'

Snorting Scully gave up.  She sat back on her own side of the 
car and gazed at the snow falling on the forest.  She didn't care.  
Why had fate decreed that she ever had to meet this man? She 
was getting really pissed off with his obstinacy.  Let him sit 
there and sweat.  See if she cared if he over heated.  She 
consoled herself with the thought of her gun nestled against her 
back.  If he didn't die soon she might have to kill him. 

It was early but the storm meant the light was already going.  
Finally reaching a decision Scully started the car and turned it 
around. She couldn't take the chance of going on.  About half 
an hour back she remembered a small township.  Hopefully 
there would be somewhere to stay there. It made her cross, but 
she had no choice.  She'd head back there.

'This car's got fleas,' Mulder said.

Scully ignored him.


- - - - - -
The trip back to the town took longer than Scully had expected.  
It was snowing hard now, the visibility low and the road starting 
to get treacherous. She was on edge.  Mulder had drifted back to 
sleep quite quickly, his mouth open to breathe through his 
blocked nose.  Belatedly she felt some sympathy for his earache 
on the plane.  He was so stuffed up he hadn't had a hope of 
equalising the pressure in his ears as the plane descended.  He 
really would have been in serious pain.

But, Scully admonished herself he knew that before he flew.  
He'd got enough flights under his belt to know the effects of 
reduced pressure on the sinus system and he'd still elected to 
come.  So he deserved whatever he got.  Right?  She sighed.  
Yeah right.  She reached out to touch his cheek.  God he was so 
hot.  She really needed to get that coat off him and cool him 
down a little.  She turned the heater almost off, not that that 
would do much good.  What he really needed was to be in bed - 
for at least a week.  The road stretched on. 

By the time she did get into the little town, she was exhausted, 
and with the heater off pretty cold.  It was dark. Wood Creek, a 
small community left over from the logging days didn't seem to 
have a lot going for it.  She crawled along the main street 
desperately searching for somewhere to stay.  There was only 
one motel and it did not look promising.  There was no 
"Vacancy" sign flashing anywhere.  In fact there were no lights 
on anywhere and only one car looking abandoned in the parking 
lot.  Damn, she thought.  They must close up for the winter.  
There was a however a diner across the road, lit up, with cars 
parked outside.  Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food 
and she consoled herself that at least they could get something 
to eat.  Which was more than would have happened if they'd got 
stuck in the snow up in the pass.

She drove right through the town.  It took about thirty seconds.  
There was no where else to stay.  Feeling increasingly desperate 
she turned back for another look at the motel and noticed that 
there was a light.  It came from somewhere around the back of 
the office building.  Someone was home. 

So you're not open she thought pulling up in front of the office.  
A piece of cardboard sloppily spelling out "closed" was taped to 
the window.  Too bad.  The beds must still be in the rooms. 
Scully was prepared to make them up herself if she had to.

With an attempt at an apologetic smile Scully rang the bell on 
the office door.  She stepped back in surprise when the door was 
flung open before she'd taken her finger off it.  The wizened 
little woman who stood there looked as surprised as Scully 
when she saw who was at the door. 'I'm sorry to disturb you 
Ma'am,' Scully started, taking in the woman's surprise. 
Obviously she had been expecting someone and it wasn't her. 
'We're in a bit of trouble.  We can't get through to Chippewa in 
this snow and we really need a bed for the night.  I know you're 
closed but we'd be happy to pay extra if you could open up a 
couple of rooms for us.'

'Oh I can't do that dear.'  She looked around as if to check they 
weren't going to be over heard.  'We had a murder here last 
night.  I've got to stay closed until the FBI have a look around.'

'You had a murder?  Here?'

'Yes dear, real gruesome one.  If them FBI don't get here soon 
and let me clean up I'll never get them stains out of everything.'

'But Mrs..?'

'Murphy.'

'Mrs Murphy.  We're FBI agents, but were supposed to be 
investigating a murder in Chippewa.'

'No.  No.  They took what was left of the bodies to the morgue 
there.  We aint got nothing like that here of course.  FBI was 
supposed to look at the bodies and then come down here to see 
the scene.' She peered at Scully.  'You're not FBI.  A little slip

of a girl like you.'

'Yes ma'am, I am.'  Scully showed her ID and the woman 
crowed with delight.

Scully suppressed a sigh.  It was turning into a long day.  
'Excuse me a minute would you please.' Turning her back she 
pulled out her phone and moved around the corner.  Snow fell 
on her hair and already the car was covered in a white layer.  
The Denver office, when she finally got through to the duty 
agent confirmed that, yes the crime scene was in Wood Creek.  
Oh bloody marvellous.  She was cold, she was hungry, her 
partner had a fever and they had just wasted something like an 
hour and a half on a dangerous snowy road thanks to that 
missing little piece of information.  It was all she could do to be 
civil.  She took a deep breath and turned back to Mrs Murphy.  
'Perhaps we'd better take a look at the scene.'

'I'll call the deputy,' Mrs Murphy said.  She nodded her head 
across the road through the falling snow.  'Truck's at the diner.'

'Thank you Mrs Murphy, that would be good.'

Scully went across to the car to wake Mulder and tell him the 
news while she waited for the deputy to turn up.  He woke with 
a start but seemed a little better for his nap.  He wasn't overly 
pleased about going to work however.  Scully left him 
grumbling and went to get her kit from the trunk. A figure was 
striding across the road and she did a double take, realising with 
a shock that the deputy was a woman.  She laughed. She had 
assumed the deputy would be a man.  She'd made the same 
presumptions as Mrs Murphy had about her.

They met half way.  'Deputy Frost.' The woman held out her 
hand.  She was tall and solid with her hair pulled back into a 
pony tail.  Her uniform trousers fitted her snugly and her 
weapon sat just so on her hip.  She exuded authority.

'Special Agent Scully.'  Scully smiled as they shook hands.  
The handshake was firm.  'My partner Special Agent Mulder.'  
She indicated the hunched figure.  He was coughing as the cold 
air hit his sore air passages.  'But you can ignore him, he's got 
the flu.'

'Oh.'  Deputy Frost looked like she couldn't think of what to 
say to that but the look she gave Mulder wasn't very kindly.  
Mulder gritted his teeth and tried to get the cough under control.  
Now he was getting pissed.

'Do you want to show me the scene?'

'Yes. Of course, come on.'  She turned to Mrs Murphy who was 
hovering near by, 'You go back inside!'

Mrs Murphy glared but hobbled off.

The deputy opened unit 9 with a standard motel key.  She stood 
for a moment in the doorway then looked at Scully.  'This is 
pretty horrible.'

'It's alright.  You've no idea some of the things I've seen.'

The smell came at them in the moment after the deputy opened 
the door.  Blood, faeces, all the smells of violent death.  Then 
the light came on to illuminate a scene from hell.

'Oh God!'  Mulder and Scully breathed together.  It resembled 
the aftermath of a high school food fight, but the mess was 
blood and tissue and bits of unmentionable horror.  Scully took 
a deep breath and moved inside.  A layer of newspaper had been 
laid like a bridge into the centre of the room and they walked on 
that.

The mess was twenty four hours old and solidified, scummy and 
brown.  It was no less horrifying for that.

'What happened here?'  Scully asked as she pulled her gloves 
on.  She looked up to find Deputy Frost watching her.  She was 
taking in her reaction.  The deputy shrugged.  'Don't know why, 
but someone took to these people with a meat cleaver.  We got 
the weapon.'

'Oo.'

'We had to scoop all the stuff up into big polythene bags.  Only 
way we know for sure there was two people is that we had four 
feet.'

Scully heard Mulder choke.  

'Do we know who they were?'

'According to their drivers licences, Chris and Gavin Polech 
from Miami.'  The deputy gave them a brief summation of what 
was known.  'Tourists we guess.  They had ski passes on their 
jackets.  Don't know what they were doing up here though.  We 
turned the heating off when we shut everything up.  Just as well 
I think.' She started taking Scully through the stuff the crime 
scene detectives had noticed in their prelim investigation, 
spatter patterns, slashes in the walls and furniture.  By mutual 
consent they were ignoring Mulder.  Scully couldn't have said 
why.  The report was comprehensive but concise.  Deputy Frost 
was a good officer.

- - - -

Mulder stood a couple of steps inside the door swaying with 
fatigue.  He desperately wanted to be lying down somewhere 
but that didn't seem likely to happen in the near future.  The 
scene in the room didn't disturb him unduly, sure it was horrible 
but he had seen it before.  He was feeling so ill he couldn't 
really take much else on board.  He hurt.  His muscles hurt, his 
back hurt.  His throat was raw and it hurt to breathe.  Tiredly he 
reached out to the wall for support.  There was something dark 
in the room.  Dark as death.  

Death had been here but it hadn't left.  Fighting a sudden panic 
he stared around.  He could feel it swooping around them.  He 
could see, he was sure he could, a darker shadow between 
himself and the light.  The women were unconcerned.  They 
were discussing blood spatter patterns with the relish of 
fishwives over the latest piece of gossip.  Couldn't they see it?

No. No they couldn't because it was focusing on him.  The dark 
wings were trying to land on him, wrap around him.  Frightened 
he tried to fight it off.  He tried to scream but it stopped his 
breath.  Scully, he yelled silently.  Help me!

- - - -

Scully's attention snapped away from Deputy Frost, suddenly 
aware of her partner's distress.  He blundered from the room, 
collided with the door and staggered off the step.

'Mulder?'

The deputy raised her eyebrows.  'Something he ate?'

'He's ill,' she muttered.  It wasn't the crime scene.  The look
on 
his face had been one of sheer terror.

She raced after him to find him crouching pressed against the 
car, arms over his head, - taking cover! 

Nervously Scully checked her gun.  She couldn't see anything 
that had scared him but it paid to think safe.  'Mulder?'  She 
squatted in front of him.  'What is it?'  She took hold of his 
arms and pulled them down.  His eyes were dilated and 
unfocused in the dim light.  It seemed to take some time for him 
to see her.  When he did his relief was palpable.  He sagged to 
the ground as Scully reached out and smoothed the hair off his 
burning forehead.  

'What happened Mulder?'

'Couldn't you feel that Scully?'  His voice was a raspy whisper.  
'There was something in that room.  Death was in that room 
Scully.'  He was shivering desperately.

'I don't dispute that Mulder...'

'There was something there.  Something horrible.'

'Mulder, that room was horrible, we all saw something horrible.  
But all I felt was cold.'  She wiped away some snow that was 
starting to settle on his hair.  'And what you are feeling is very 
sick.'  He sagged against her and she put an arm around him.  
'Come on,' she started levering him up.  'We'll see if Mrs 
Murphy can fix us up with some beds.'

'No!'  Scully landed on the ground, completely unprepared for 
the way he jerked away from her.  'We can't stay here Scully. 
We can't sleep here!'  He was quite demented.

'Mulder!' The snow was soaking through her pants.  The 
Deputy gave her a hand up.  'There is no where else to stay 
here.  You need to be in bed.'  She turned to the Deputy 
prepared to humour him if it was possible.  He needed to be 
kept calm.  'There isn't is there?'

The deputy looked at Scully.  'Weell...'

'What?'

'Well actually, there is.  My mam owns a hunting lodge down 
by the river.  I don't think she'll let you have it cheap though.'

'Don't worry.'  Scully didn't care a jot what it cost.  She just

wanted Mulder out of the snow and in bed.  'The FBI can pick 
up the tab.  Will you ask her if we can use it?'

The Deputy grinned.  'Easy.'  She started walking back to the 
motel office, opened the door.  'Mam,' she yelled.  'Is the lodge 
up to guests?'  When Mrs Murphy appeared Deputy Frost 
grinned as she put an arm around the little woman's shoulders.  
'This is my mother,' she said.
 
They went into the office to make the arrangements.  Mulder 
folded onto the only chair.  As Mrs Murphy fussed around 
finding keys he sagged, squinting up at them from under his 
fringe.  The scene seemed normal but he felt as if another darker 
one was sliding in and out of view like a bad three colour print.  
Death was still close.  At any stage it could come back.  He 
wrapped his arms tight around his chest.  He was still 
frightened.

Mrs Murphy was giving instructions.  'The beds are made up 
but you'll have to turn the water and power back on.'  Scully 
signed the necessary papers and Mrs Murphy started to explain 
about mains switches and water taps.  The Deputy cut her off, 
'It's okay.  I'll go down there with them and sort it out.'

Gathering her partner Scully picked up the keys and led Mulder 
out to the car with a firm grip on his arm.  Her touch was solid 
and grounding and some of the fear drained away.  Deputy Frost 
said she'd follow along.  Scully was just starting the car when 
the other woman ran over and knocked on the window.  'Agent 
Scully,' she asked, 'have you eaten?'  

- - - -
The road to the hunting lodge ran deep into the forest.  It was 
actually a blessing because the snow wasn't settling as thickly 
between the trees. Even so it was comforting to know they 
didn't have to worry about getting stuck. Deputy Frost's four 
wheel drive was coming along behind them.

Mulder leant up against the window idly wondering if he would 
get a frost bitten cheek.  He didn't have the energy to move 
away. Once the car started moving the black apparition from the 
motel seemed to have been left behind. He was willing to 
concede that it might have been a fever dream.  He was 
certainly happy to concede that he now had a fever.  He couldn't 
mistake that hot/cold/shivery feeling for anything else.  
Concentrating on staying awake until they got there he wasn't 
really thinking at all, beyond relief that he would be able to lie 
down soon.  He was hot now, hence the cheek on the frozen 
window.  He felt very ill.

In spite of his efforts he found his eyes were closed because he 
had to open them when the car came to a halt and he heard 
Scully's sharp intake of breath.  Good grief.  The building in the 
head lights wasn't what he'd been expecting.  This wasn't a 
hunting lodge.  This was what rich people called a hunting 
lodge.  Skinner was going to do his nut over the expense 
account for this one.

Scully took a torch and went up the wide steps to the porch that 
ran right around the building.  She fitted the key in the lock and 
the door opened, so Mulder guessed they must be in the right 
place.  She disappeared for a few moments and then suddenly 
the whole place was ablaze with light, she'd found the mains 
switch.  It wasn't just every room in the house that was lit 
either, but the parking area, the grounds, and in front of the 
house down a slope, just visible through the falling snow, an 
area of river bank, complete with boat shed and jetty.  Wow!  
Even Mulder's whirling brain was impressed.

Carefully easing himself out of the car he made his way up the 
steps and followed Scully inside.  He found himself in a huge 
open plan room that was easily the size of his apartment.  Right 
beside him was the kitchen area and away over by the floor to 
ceiling windows a 'cosy area' of sofas gathered around an 
enormous fireplace.  The windows overlooked the river. It was 
all a bit much and he didn't really take it in. The cold air seemed 
to rip across his raw air passages, sucking any lubrication with 
it.  He started to cough.  Inside the house was every bit as cold 
as outside.  Shivering he buckled into a chair.

'Mulder,' Scully called.  'Up here.'  She was leaning over from 
a mezzanine area that ran the length of the room.  'Bedrooms.'

It took him an age to climb the stairs.  Scully didn't come to 
help.  Mulder took the first room he came to.  Huge bed and a 
door opening into an ensuite complete with bidet and large bath.  
Fine.  Good.  Bed.  He would have made some smart comment 
but he was too far gone.  He curled onto the bed too miserable 
to move. For all that it was a swanky room it was fucking 
freezing.  He was so sick.  He wondered if he might die.

Something thumped onto the floor and then he heard the sound 
of the curtains being pulled.  Scully had brought up his bag.  He 
felt a weight beside him on the bed.  Scully ran her hand over 
his head but she wasn't trying to sooth.  She was only feeling 
for the pulse in his neck.  Mulder was suddenly horribly afraid 
he was going to cry.

'Come on Mulder,' she said brusquely.  'We've got to get you 
undressed.'  She started undoing his coat.  This time he let her.  
Then she started on the shirt.  'I know it's cold but once you're 
in bed you'll be alright.'

Her prissy manner was peeing him off.  He sat up and shook her 
off.  'I can manage,' he said thickly.  

She stood hovering uncertainly.  'I found some tylenol in my 
toilet bag.  They should help.'  She held them out.  'They'll 
reduce the fever too.'

Mulder took the slide and popped two out.

'I'll get some water.'  She went into the bathroom and the taps 
squeaked.  'Of course,' she called, 'no water.'  Scully leaned
on 
the basin trying to control her temper.  Somehow the lack of 
water was the last straw. 'They must drain the building in the 
winter so the pipes don't freeze.'

Her breath fogged the mirror and she hoped the Deputy would 
get here soon to turn on the heat.  And turn on the water of 
course.  That way she could get Mulder settled and hopefully 
not see him for the rest of the night.   Stifling a growl she went 
back into the bedroom to see Mulder fighting his way out of his 
pants.  Her eyes were drawn to his chest.  What she saw there 
floored her.  Oh No!  Her eyes widened.  It wasn't fair.  
'Mulder.'  

He looked up and fell backwards onto the bed distracted from 
the tricky business of taking his leg out of his trousers.  'What?'

'Look.'  She pointed at him.  Oh god she didn't believe it.  'No

wonder you feel so awful.' The situation suddenly seemed 
ludicrous and she had to try hard not to laugh, 'You've got 
chicken pox.'



Scully wasn't a complete bitch.  She knew that chickenpox in 
adults was not to be taken lightly.  But oh God, it had to be 
Mulder.  Who else would wait until he was nearly forty to catch 
a childhood illness?  She choked back her laughter and did the 
best that she could for him but there was very little she could 
do.  

She gave him a quick look over.  He had several clusters of 
spots on his chest and back, probably in his groin too but she 
wasn't looking there.  Contrary to popular belief she didn't 
actually travel with a full emergency department in her bag and 
this time she didn't even have a working thermometer.  She 
hadn't replaced it since it was broken (by Mulder of course) 
about three trips ago.  She tucked him shivering into bed and sat 
beside him thinking.  She was pleased at least to have a 
diagnosis.  The flu scenario had been starting to worry her, his 
temperature had seemed just too high, but it was entirely 
consistent with chicken pox.

Mulder very quickly dozed off.  Scully tried to suppress a moan 
as she sat there looking at him.  With the blankets pulled up he 
didn't look too bad, he had no spots on his face.  That didn't 
mean that they wouldn't appear later.  A diagnosis at least gave 
her an idea of what to expect.  Worse case, he would be 
extremely ill for about the next five days.  His skin would be 
covered in spots, along with his mucous membranes.  He would 
nearly go mad with the itching.  He would have an extremely 
high fever and the toxins from the virus would attack every 
organ in his body.

This was Mulder.  Scully expected worse case.

Right now it seemed pointless to warn him.

He was contagious.  Scully wanted to cry.  He couldn't fly.  She 
couldn't send him home.  They were stuck here, or somewhere 
like here for two weeks.  She closed her eyes and tried to think 
of a single reason she stayed partnered to Mulder but right now 
she couldn't think of one.  

She heard the front door open with a feeling of relief.  'Hi 
there,' yelled Deputy Frost.  Scully smiled.  She wasn't alone.  
She kissed Mulder on his forehead and went down to meet her.

The Deputy was carrying a large box that she dumped on the 
kitchen bench.  'I got us some things.  I thought we could make 
dinner and talk about the case.'  She hesitated, 'Hell you're not 
vegetarian are you?'

Scully smiled delighted at the prospect of company.  'No.  Um 
Deputy Frost..?'

'Oh,' she grinned.  'My name's Shareen.  After all we're off 
duty now aren't we?'  She put her hand back and swept her hair 
out of its band.  It was thick and blond and fell in a rich curtain 
to her shoulder blades.

'Shareen, I'm Dana,' she smiled.  'Ah Shareen, I've got to ask

you an awkward question.  Have you had chicken pox?'

'Chicken pox.  You mean..?' she laughed and nodded towards 
the bedrooms.

'Yes.  I'm afraid so.'

'Oh dear.  I thought only kids got chicken pox.'

'Generally yes, but I guess he never caught it as a child.  It's 
usually much worse if you don't catch it until you're an adult.'

'Well I never got it when my daughter had it last summer so I 
guess I'm safe.  God but it's cold in here.'  She started pulling 
things out of the box.  'What do you fancy, chilli or 
bolognaise?'

Scully thought a moment.  Chilli cooked by strangers could be a 
bit dicey.  'Bolognaise I think, thanks.'

'Great,' Shareen threw Scully an onion.  'You get started, I'll 
see about getting some heat on around here.'  She dived into a 
utility room off the entry and Scully started searching the 
enormous kitchen for knives and utensils.  It was a beautiful, 
well set up kitchen and Scully could imaging a chef holding 
court as the guests sipped drinks and chatted in the lounge.  She 
quickly found what she wanted and started chopping.  After a 
few minutes the water started gurgling in the pipes.  Water 
sputtered from the tap over the sink and when it was running 
evenly she turned it off.  Shareen came back and set to lighting 
the fire in the lounge. 

 Scully found a large pan, most of the pans were large.  She had 
water heating for the pasta and the onions and garlic browning 
nicely by the time Shareen was done.

'The underfloor heating is on but it will take a good hour to get 
really cosy.  The water will be quicker, it's got a fast recovery 
system.  You can have a shower in about fifteen minutes if you 
want.'

'That's great.  Thanks.'  Scully stirred her pan, she was 
enjoying herself.  'Thank you for doing this.  These onions are 
ready.  Where's the meat?'

'It is no trouble.  Oh hell I nearly forgot.  I've got something 
else you might want right now.'  She fossicked in the box.  'Ta 
da.'  She held up a small glass tube, a thermometer.

Scully laughed.  'You are so right.  Thank you.  I was just 
cursing not having one of these.'  She hesitated.

'Go on.  Go see to him.'  Shareen reached for the spoon.  
'You'll feel better when he's settled.  I'll finish this.  I
like 
cooking.'

Feeling a weight lift off her Scully went back upstairs.  Mulder 
was out cold.  She didn't wake him, just slipped the 
thermometer gently into his mouth and held it under his tongue.  
It was not exactly recommended technique but he barely stirred. 
The reading came in at just over 101.  Damn.  Hot enough 
although he actually didn't seem as hot now as he had been 
back in the car before they got to Wood Creek.  That was a 
worrying thought.  Getting undressed and into a cold bed must 
have helped.  Even so, that was way too high.  

Scully striped the bedspread off the bed and surveyed him.  He 
really needed the tylenol.  It would reduce the fever and ease the 
aches and pains.  She didn't want to wake him but rationalised 
that he would probably get a better sleep if he took the pills.  
She fetched some water and woke him up.  He wasn't pleased.  
He swore.  It didn't make her feel any more kindly towards him 
so she didn't treat him very nice.  Hauling him upright she made 
him force the tablets down his throat. After that she made him 
drink two more glasses of water. He didn't fight the water.  He 
had a raging thirst.  And the cold water was soothing on his 
throat.  He could tell she was pissed and he didn't want to deal 
with it.  He figured the sooner she was done the sooner he could 
get back to sleep.

He should have said sorry or thank you or something.  Instead 
he just slumped out of her arms.  'Your bedside manner stinks,' 
he grumbled which probably wasn't a very bright thing to say 
but he was feeling pretty pissed off himself.  

She surveyed him for a minute arms folded, her eyes narrowed.  
'Goodnight,' she said tightly.  

Mulder growled.  When the door shut behind her he sagged 
back into the bed closing his eyes against the pricking tears.

- - - - -
By the time dinner was ready the women were able to dispense 
with their coats.  It still wasn't quite warm enough until they 
took their wine and moved over by the roaring fire Shareen had 
coaxed into life. 

Dinner was great. They pulled the coffee table over by the fire 
and sat cross legged on the floor beside it.  Shareen proved to be 
an excellent cook and the wine she pulled out of the store room 
was superb.  She opened the bottle with a flourish.  'This place 
is well set up.  It's a shame it only gets used in the summer.  If it 
were closer to the ski resorts we would get a lot more business.' 
The pasta was just right and the sauce was rich and fragrant 
with garlic and tomatoes. Shareen dished it up and then gasped, 
'Oh God Dana,' she burst out laughing.  'This looks like 
something from the crime scene.'  She coloured.  'I'm sorry.  
I'm sorry, I've got a sick sense of humour.'  

Scully laughed too.  She was already feeling more relaxed than 
she could remember.  She hadn't realised how much she needed 
some extra company.  Company that wasn't Mulder she meant.  
'Don't worry.  You should have seen what the hospital cafe 
served up every time my class did dissection at med school.  I 
never could understand why we had to have chopped liver on 
dissection days.'  She poured more wine.  Hell, why not.

The evening was wonderful.  The alcohol and the fire, the 
cocooning effect of the snow outside encouraged the women to 
talk.  They had a lot in common.  They were both women in law 
enforcement fighting to be more than equal to the men.  Scully 
brought up the case because she felt she should but neither of 
them wanted to ruin the mood.  They were off duty. 

Luckily there wasn't much about the crime to talk about.  The 
couple were last seen alive around 9 pm leaving the diner.  They 
were found around 9 am by Shareen's mother.  Time of death 
unable to be estimated on the scene due to extreme mutilation of 
the bodies.  No one had seen or heard anything unusual.

The car was registered to Gavin Polech, next of kin were being 
notified. There was nothing Scully could do without seeing the 
bodies and that depended on the weather in the morning. The 
killers were probably far away.  That was enough of that 
conversation.  It could wait for the morning. 


Moving the plates out to the kitchen Shareen opened another 
bottle of wine.  'I'm so pleased you're here,' she said.  'I 
couldn't believe it when Mam told me the FBI investigator was 
a woman.'

Scully grinned.  'I was just as surprised to learn that the deputy 
was a woman too.'

'Girls can do anything huh?'  She handed Scully her glass and 
slid back down onto the rug.

'Yep.'  She held out her glass.  'Here's to girls.'

'Hear, hear,' Shareen said as they clinked.

Scully leaned back Mulder completely forgotten.  'This is so 
nice.'

They got up to add a log to the fire or top up their glasses, but 
mainly they leant back against the sofa staring into the fire and 
talked.  It was like a sleep over Scully mused.  She had 
forgotten how nice "girl talk" could be.  Hell, she had spent so 
long with Mulder she had forgotten what normal conversation 
was like.

They talked about their families.  Scully abridged her story 
fairly dramatically, some things she just didn't feel like sharing.  
Then Shareen asked about Mulder.  After all the wine she'd had 
Scully's answer was easy.  Just partners she said.  But her heart 
gave a funny thump as she said it.

Shareen had a daughter who was presently spending her school 
holidays with her father in Oregon.  Shareen was a pretty proud 
mom and she missed her daughter but she was trying to do the 
right thing and let her see her father.  He was a logger she 
explained.  When the Wood Creek mill had been closed by 
environmental pressure, he and most of the other men around 
left town.  Shareen's father had been ill then and so she had 
decided to stay for a while.

'I didn't regret not going with him for a minute.  We never 
really got on.  So by the time Dad finally popped off, which no 
one really regretted either, I decided not to leave at all.'

'Was he Irish?'

'Who?  My dad?'

Scully nodded.  

'No,' she giggled.  'He liked to think he was but the closed, 
closs, closest he got to Irish was out of a bottle.'  She up ended 
the second bottle which was now as empty as the first.  'Damn.  
Good stuff that.  In fact,' she sank back down on the floor.  The 
fire was burning lower now and they were lying on the hearth 
rug with their toes nearly in the grate.  'In fact, he's the bastard

that gave me this silly name.  Shar -reen.'  

Scully giggled.  She couldn't remember why she'd asked if 
Shareen was Irish in the first place.  Might have been her name.

'He thought it sounded Irish.  Bastard made it up.'

'How did you know what I was thinking.'

'Just clever I guess.  What were you thinking?'

'I don't know.'  Scully slumped over as peels of laughter rolled 
through her.  'Can't remember.'  She hiccoughed.  'Can't 
remember what I was thinking.  Listen, listen.'  She lent over 
and hissed a pretend whisper.  'I thought of something.  You 
want to hear a silly name?'  Guess...'

'My name's Fox,' a hoarse voice said quietly above their heads.  
'Is that silly enough for you?'

Scully gulped.  Oh shit!


- - - - -
Mulder woke from a restless sleep feeling completely 
disorientated.  He felt like he'd slept for hours, which actually 
he had, but it was pitch dark and he could hear voices.  He felt 
hot and uncomfortable and desperate both to pee and have a 
drink.  He also had only the vaguest idea of where he was.  It 
was so bloody dark.  Groggily he reached out and as his arm 
connected with a solid object he realised he was on the wrong 
side of the bed.  The dresser was in the wrong place.  Raising 
his head he squinted at an electric clock that swam in front of 
his eyes.  8:88 it flashed at him.  Well that was useful.  By its 
light he managed to find the light switch and found himself 
screwing his eyes shut in sudden pain as the light illuminated 
the room.  He did not recognise this place.  This was a suite, not 
a motel room.

He sat up carefully.  He felt fluey and sick and he squirmed and 
scratched at his chest.  He was itchy.  And that was when he 
remembered.  He snatched his hand away.  Chicken Pox.  He 
had fucking chicken pox and they were on a bloody case in 
Bum Fluff Colorado.  He had to try not to scratch.  

Cautiously, steadying himself against the wall Mulder made his 
way into the enormous bathroom.  He needed to hang on to a 
towel rail to stay upright while he did his business.  Then he 
grabbed a glass and helped himself to a rushed glass of icy 
water.  It was cold enough to crack his teeth and it felt 
wonderful.  Lifting his head from the basin he surveyed himself 
in the full length mirror that covered the wall above the 
triangular jacuzzi.

Dear god, he was not a pretty sight.  Clad only in his boxers 
very little was hidden.  His chest and back were covered in 
angry red welts, each one centred by a yellow blister. There 
were a few on his arms and legs and several on his face as well. 
His hair stood on end, damp with sweat and dark rings ran under 
his eyes.  He looked like a child's caricature drawing of some 
one with -- well chicken pox.  Groaning he sat down on the cold 
edge of the tub and rested his head on his hand.  This was bad.

Taking a few minutes to steady himself he staggered back into 
the bedroom.  He found his bag and started rooting for his tooth 
brush. A foul tasting ooze was running down his throat.  He 
could hear female voices somewhere in the building.  Scully 
wasn't here so she must still be up.  Hang on, her bag wasn't in 
here.  Where was she planning on sleeping?

Scully was laughing, a sweet tinkling sound.  Curious and too 
restless to return to bed straight away Mulder found his pyjama 
pants and carefully pulled them on.  Luckily the elastic was 
quite loose and didn't rub too hard against the spots around his 
middle.  Damn it.  Even thinking about the spots made the itch 
worse.  Scully obviously wasn't talking to herself.  There was 
some one else here.  They didn't need to see what his chest 
looked like so he pulled on a towelling robe he found folded on 
a chair.

Shuffling over to the door he made his way out onto the balcony 
that over looked the lounge area.  Now he remembered this 
place.  Who the hell was Scully laughing with in the middle of 
the night?  He looked down and managed to bite back the 
shocked hiss that the image below brought to his lips.  Scully 
and the deputy woman were lying on the hearth rug in front of 
the fire.  They were practically in each other's arms, smiling at 
each other.  His heart twisted.  He'd never suspected...

Shit.  He moved back a bit as he fought to control his breathing.  
Scully was laughing again.  He hadn't heard her laugh like that - 
ever.  A crushing pain grabbed at his chest and he had to 
concentrate suddenly on staying upright, and more importantly 
on not making a sound.  He started to move away, to head back 
to bed, his mind reeling.  His head was pounding and the light 
hurt his eyes.  Tears were starting to damp his cheeks and 
irritate the spots there.  He was nearly at his door when he heard 
them talking about silly names and he knew what was coming 
next.  Something snapped.   He didn't care how much fun they 
were having - they weren't going to slag him off.  And he 
wasn't going to let her go lightly.  God damn it no.  I love you 
Scully.  I'm not going to let you throw it away.  It was time to 
break up the party.

He leaned over the edge again and looked down.  'My name's 
Fox,' he said.  'Is that silly enough for you?'  

Scully's shocked face was quite a picture.



Bugger, bugger, damn.  Scully jumped upright then, the mood 
completely broken.  It turned out to be nearly 1am.  With 
muttered exclamations about how late it was and how deep the 
snow was getting Shareen left quickly.  Scully saw her out and 
then joined Mulder who was still propped on the mezzanine rail.  
She was drunk and she was very pissed off.

'Mulder.' She surveyed him.  'How long were you 
eavesdropping?'

'I wasn't eavesdropping.'

'What were you doing then?'  She noticed one or two spots 
appearing on his face.  He idly scratched his stomach through 
his robe.

'I woke up, I heard voices, I came out.'

'Uh huh.  And how long have you been here?'

'Long enough.'

'Long enough for what?  Don't scratch!'

He snatched his hands back to the balcony rail and twisted 
awkwardly in the robe.  'It's fucking itchy.'

'I know.  I'll try and get some stuff to help tomorrow.  Long 
enough for what?  To see me enjoying myself while you're 
lying there miserable?  Poor little Fox can't go to the party so 
he'll spit on the cake.  Is that it.'

'No!'  He squirmed some more.

'A cool bath might help.  What then?'

'The woman's a dyke Scully.  She's after you.'

'Mulder!' Scully was getting really cross.  'I've really enjoyed

this evening.  You're trying to ruin it.  I made a new friend and 
it was nice.'

'I saw it.'

'You're jealous.'

'I am not.'

'Your trouble Mulder is that you don't know the first thing 
about women.  Do you?  Women you see Mulder,' Scully was 
getting warmed up, how dare he ruin her evening, 'women find 
it possible to have friendships.  Do you know what friendships 
are Mulder?  Do you!  How many friends have you got Mulder?  
Women can have friendships, and share things, and talk and be 
close to someone and it doesn't mean anything except 
friendship.  It doesn't mean anything.  Do you get that!' 

He looked pale.    

'Have you got that.'  Belatedly her fuddled brain realised that 
they had skipped onto an entirely different topic altogether.

'Yeah Scully, I think I've finally got it.'  His voice was 
completely cold.

Oh God. Scully froze as the realisation of what she'd said hit 
her. Shit, shit, shit. She was in shock.

Mulder stood there totally stricken, his breath rasping in and 
out.  Eventually he said quietly, 'I think I'll try that bath
then.'  
Scully could see it was taking him a phenomenal effort to hold 
himself together.  Unsteadily he walked back to his room and 
the door clicked firmly shut behind him. 

She stood rooted to the spot.  Oh Jesus!  No way had she meant 
what he had thought she meant but she wasn't taking it back 
either.  He'd had it coming. Serve him right for jumping to 
conclusions about Shareen. When she reached her own door she 
stopped and leant her head against the wall suddenly stricken by 
a thought.  She had just ripped his heart out.

- - - -

Mulder's rubbery legs held him up only until he was out of 
Scully's sight.  As soon as he shut the door they gave out 
completely and he slid gracelessly down the wall. Stuffing his 
fist in his mouth to muffle the sound he moaned, biting back the 
scream of pain that wanted to come out.  He couldn't make a 
sound or Scully would come and he couldn't stand that. 

He huddled desperately cold and so alone.  In the last few 
months he'd thought he'd found her.  In Scully he thought he'd 
found the love and security and commitment he hadn't even 
really known he was seeking.  He'd never had it before, how 
could he have known to miss it.  He'd been so happy.  

Messy sobs suddenly welled through him.  How could he not 
have seen?  She hadn't wanted it back.  Friendship.  Friendship 
was all she wanted.  The gentle New Years Eve kiss had filled 
him with such warmth.  Their quietly blossoming physical 
relationship had brought a level of joy he'd never known.  And 
these last few months, sleeping in her bed had brought him such 
peace.  All through it he'd thought she shared these feelings.  
But he'd got it all wrong.  He obviously didn't understand 
women at all.  

Heartbroken, ill and alone Mulder huddled on the floor as the 
black wings closed back in around him.
 
Scully had left him.  He had no protection from the evil demons.  
Nothing to stop the demons coming in.

- - - -

Scully eventually got to bed.  She was still quite drunk and she 
held on to that. She had a feeling that when she sobered up she 
would really hate herself. She tumbled into the large bed on her 
own.  It was the first time she'd had a bed to herself in months.  
She spread herself out and sighed luxuriously.  There was no 
large body taking up more than his share, invading her space 
and making her bed hot before she'd had a chance to warm it.  
She did her best to convince herself that she was glad.  

Everything was going to custard.  After all these years of 
unrequited lust she had finally got what she wanted and now she 
wasn't sure if it was what she wanted after all.  Mulder was just 
so...  He was so everything!  He was so big.   He was so untidy. 
He filled her lovely apartment to over flowing just by being 
there.  He was so brilliant.  He was so bloody annoying.  He was 
so clingy.  He was so needy.  He was so in love with her.
 
Oh god.  He had been so happy.  

She tried to tell herself that what had happened tonight would be 
for the best.  She needed space to sort her feelings out, just to 
find herself again before she was drowned in Mulder.  Tonight 
would help.  They could talk it through tomorrow.  She could 
reassure him that she did love him but that she needed a little 
time to herself
. 
And then something happened that made her realise she'd been 
fooling herself.  He started to scream.

Scully shot across the hallway only to find she couldn't open his 
door.  For a panicked moment she thought it was locked and he 
was under attack.  Then the door gave an inch and she realised it 
was Mulder's body that was stopping it opening.  He must have 
collapsed there after leaving her.  Her heart lurched.  He was so 
ill and she had just gone to bed!

'Mulder!' Scully pushed frantically at the door but he showed 
no sign of waking.  Frighteningly she couldn't get him to budge.  
He was incoherent, flailing around and screaming in terror. 
Being bashed by a door wasn't waking him up.  She had to get 
to him.

What to do? Trying to calm herself she took a deep breath and 
looked around.  There was another room next door to his.  
Hardly daring to hope she dashed in there and found, to her 
relief, a connecting door.  Unlocked.

The howls increased in pitch as he saw her but tapered off in 
confusion as she carefully approached.  'It's all right Mulder.  
Everything's okay.'  She kept her voice low and soothing, 
moving in so he could see her.  Gently she reached out and he 
shrank back, eyes unfocused but full of fear.  'It's me Mulder.  
It's me Scully.'  That probably wasn't helping.  Since his run in 
with the video game last week he'd been dreaming that she was 
the cyber bitch.  The more lurid details of that dream had 
completely put him off oral sex.  'You're okay.  You're 
dreaming.  Wake up Mulder.  It's okay.'

He was terribly hot. 

'Come on Mulder.  Wake up.  Wake up for me now sweetheart.  
It's all right.  It's me Scully.  I'm here now.'  She watched 
recognition slowly filter across his eyes and he sank back onto 
the floor breathing in small sobs.  He'd stopped screaming but 
was at best barely semi conscious.  He was very ill.

Pushing away her feelings of guilt Scully fought her way back 
in to doctor mode.  She had to cool him.  There was no time to 
fiddle around with thermometers. Knowing what his 
temperature was wasn't actually going to help.  He was 
dangerously, brain frying hot.  She had to cool him down.  She 
ripped off the robe and was about to do the same with his pants 
when she changed her mind.  He needed serious cooling.  That 
wasn't going to happen on the floor. 

Scully was desperate or she'd never have thought of it.  
Carrying people twice her size wasn't something she usually 
attempted.  For Mulder however she would try.  The pants gave 
her something to hold on to.  It was a struggle - he wasn't 
capable of helping at all.  She got him over her shoulder in a 
clumsy fireman's lift but then found she couldn't stand up.  So 
she'd work with what she had.  Scully crawled with him to the 
bathroom. His hot dead weight hung over her back smelling 
unpleasantly of sweat and unwashed man.  With a jolt of 
hysteria she realised she could never hoist him into the bath as 
she had planned so she kept crawling into the shower.  Easing 
him to the tile floor she yanked his pants off and turned the 
water on.

When the water first hit him he jerked and shouted and then 
crumpled in the corner, quite limp.  Scully adjusted the water 
until it was barely luke warm.  She needed him cold now.  She 
had to be cruel to be kind.  Mulder slid bonelessly down the 
tiles until he was curled on the floor.  The shower cubicle was 
huge but even so Mulder's slumped body took up most of it.  
She couldn't leave him with his head on the tiles.  He'd shut his 
eyes but his mouth was slack against the floor as the water ran 
around him.  If he stayed like that he'd drown.

Fighting back tears that threatened to engulf her Scully crawled 
in too. 'Oh god Mulder,' she moaned.  'I'm sorry.' She pulled 
him up into a sitting position and sat with him under the cool 
water holding him with her arms around him and his head on 
her shoulder.  In that position she kissed him and stroked him 
and the falling water masked her tears.  

How could she have done this to him?  As the cold water fell on 
her head she reviewed the situation.  God she must have been 
drunk.  Jesus she should have realised that anything he said had 
to be coming through a fever haze.  She shouldn't have been 
expecting him to make sense.  She shouldn't have been 
expecting him to make sense of her.

Scully had no doubt that she was at fault for the condition he 
was in.  She had to be, because if she had not been drunk she 
would have seen him back to bed, taken his temperature and 
when she'd seen it was getting up, she would have had him in a 
cool bath and given a dose of tylenol.  She'd have given him 
plenty to drink, tucked him back into clean sheets and he'd 
probably have slept until morning.

If she wasn't drunk she'd never have had that stupid 
conversation.  As it was she'd broken his heart and left him 
delirious and frightened and alone.  Jesus, his self worth was so 
fragile.  How could she do that to him?



It took quite a long time but improvement when it came was 
dramatic.  The trouble was, by then Scully was frozen.

'Scully,' said a voice against her neck.  'You're shivering.'

'Mulder!'  She hitched back a sob.

'Yeah.' He moaned.  He shook himself a little and tried to sit 
up. 'What are we doing here?'

'You had a very high fever.  How are you feeling?'

'Odd,' he said after considering for a moment.  'Wet.  I've got
a 
shocking headache.'  He wriggled a bit and grimaced.  'My butt 
hurts.'

'Okay.'  Inspite of herself Scully grinned.  'Sitting on cold tile

floors will do that to you.'  Awkwardly she clambered up and 
turned the water off.  She was stiff and cold.  'We need to get 
dry and get you back to bed.'  She wondered how she was going 
to manage that.  She must be hypothermic; she barely had the 
strength to stand up herself.  She stripped off her wet clothes 
and wrapped herself in another robe fortuitously hanging on the 
back of the door.  If she didn't see to herself first she realised, 
they would be in serious trouble.  If she collapsed, Mulder 
wasn't going to be able to help her.

Turning back to Mulder she found him trying to stand and 
helped him upwards until he was swaying like a tree in the 
wind.  With his arm around her shoulders and hers tight around 
his waist she headed straight for the bed.  If she had stopped to 
dry him he'd have come crashing down.  Once he was on the 
bed she gave him a flick over with the towel.  That would do.  
She covered him with the sheet.  It was warm in the room now.

She did go looking for the thermometer then, coming in with a 
reading of 100 exactly.  Okay, not good in the ordinary sense 
but certainly no longer in the danger level.  Mulder lolled limp 
and distant, letting her do what she had to do.  He took tylenol 
and he drank water.  Then he lay back on the pillows and closed 
his eyes.  Scully watched him.  He looked blotchy and horrible.  
She had no idea how much he remembered from earlier.

She swallowed hard.  Her tears threatened to flow again and 
there was no way she was letting any more of that happen 
tonight.  She turned the light off leaving just the light from the 
bathroom and came back to the bed staring down at him again.  
What next?  His eyes opened.  'Aren't you coming to bed?' he 
asked.  His eyes slid shut.

'Yes.'  She dropped the robe and climbed in. The bed was 
wrinkled and damp. 'Night Mulder.'

'G'night Scully.'

'Sleep well sweetheart.'  She meant it from her heart.

'Mmmm...'


- - - -

Scully was back and the demons were gone.  

Mulder woke and lay there savouring a moment of perfect 
peace.  Scully lay sleeping against him.  Her breasts, full and 
warm, rose and fell with her breathing under his hand.  He 
breathed in the scent of her and the clean freshness of her hair.  
He did have to admit though, even as far gone as he was, there 
was nothing romantic about her breath. For a moment all of his 
discomforts ebbed away. Her closeness was overloading his 
senses, drowning out everything else.  Pathetically grateful for 
her being in his bed he snuggled closer.  He was so tired.  For 
now he was safe.  He slept.


- - - -- - - - 
Which is how it was that Scully woke up to the disquieting 
realisation that there was a damp, hot, heavy arm across her 
naked breasts.  This was followed by the even more disturbing 
realisation that the arm belonged to a damp, hot, and naked 
Mulder.  Hadn't she gone to bed on her own?

She froze while her brain tried to make sense of the situation.  
Mulder was curled around her, even more uncomfortably warm 
than he usually was. He was sweaty and his breath was hot on 
her cheek.  He was twitching and making little moaning grunts 
but he was asleep.  

With a shudder of distaste Scully freed herself and moved away.  
Her mouth was disgusting while her stomach could best be 
described as fragile.  Mulder's arm suddenly flopped back 
across her chest. He was on the wrong side.  For some reason it 
felt completely foreign.  She became aware that somewhere in 
the house a phone was ringing.  Then it stopped.

Jesus!  Shareen.  Who else would be ringing this house?  There 
wouldn't usually be anyone here?  Shit, Scully thought.  When 
Shareen didn't get an answer she'd be heading straight up the 
track to see if everything was okay.  It was fully daylight.  What 
the hell was the time?

She slid out of bed, the uncovered patch of skin where Mulder's 
arm had been suddenly cold and lonely.  She paused for a 
moment watching him sleep, dark eyelashes across his cheek.  
He was hot, but not the fiery heat of last night's nightmares. He 
was sprawled on his stomach twitching and moving restlessly, 
the sheets tightly tangled around his middle.  The skin on his 
back looked as if he had been spattered by something 
disgusting.  And it wasn't just his back she noticed, the backs of 
his knees were thick with it and there were even spots on the 
soles of his feet.  It looked painful.  No wonder he was restless.

Scully's watch had died in the shower and the alarm clock by 
the bed had never been set once the power was turned on.  She 
had no idea what the time was but considering the time Shareen 
left and the length of time she had been in the shower with 
Mulder, she couldn't have been in bed before three.  She could 
easily have overslept by hours.  She shot across the hallway to 
her own room and into the shower.


By the time Shareen knocked on the door Scully was dressed 
and towelling her hair.  Shareen came in smiling.  'Morning.  I 
tried to phone but you didn't answer.  I guessed you were in the 
shower.'

'I thought that must have been you on the phone.  Sorry if I'm 
late.  We had a really rough night here.'  Scully ignored 
Shareen's arched eyebrow.  'What is the time?  My watch had 
an accident.' 

'It's nine, but don't worry I'm not long up myself.  Fancy some 
breakfast?  There's no rush to go anywhere.  I've had a weather 
report.  This snow is clearing and we might be able to get a 
chopper out about lunch time.  Why don't you spend the 
morning at the crime scene, although I don't know how much 
good that will do you, and then we'll see if we can get you 
through to Chippewa in the afternoon to see the bodies?  Will 
that suit you?'

'Thanks.  Um.  I don't know.  I need to check on Mulder.  I'm a 
bit worried that he might not be well enough to leave alone.'

Shareen stared at her.  'Why not?  I thought it was like having 
the flu.  What happened last night?'

Scully grimaced.  She didn't want to go into it.  'He spiked a 
really high fever.  It was a bit frightening.  I got him in the 
shower and cooled him down and he recovered well.  I'm just 
scared that that might happen again.'

'He's a bit of a pansy isn't he?'

Scully nearly giggled.  'It's not his fault.  When adults get 
chickenpox it usually effects then badly.  Children seem to get a 
much milder form of the disease.  That's why it is better to let 
your children catch it while they're young.  It can be life 
threatening.'  She shuddered as she contemplated what Mulder 
was going through.  She might have been cross with him but she 
would never wish anything like this on him.  'The virus releases 
virulent toxins into the blood. The effects are severe.  It can be 
worse than influenza and the patient has the itchy rash as well.'

'Shall I ask my mother to come up and sit with him.  It's not 
like she's got a motel to run at the moment is it.'

'Thank you,' Scully said gratefully.  Actually, maybe it was just 
as well he'd come on this case or he'd be alone at home right 
now.

Shareen grinned.  'It would never do to have our star 
investigator stuck in a nursemaid's role.  We need you to solve 
this case.  Woman power and all that.'

Scully didn't know why but that statement annoyed her a little.
  
Shareen chattered on.  She talked about the case, the weather, 
put on the coffee and started making toast.  She didn't really 
care much about Mulder suffering upstairs.  Her and Mulder's 
dislike of each other seemed to be mutual.  Scully was having 
trouble getting her brain into gear.  She wasn't a big drinker and 
she couldn't remember the last time she had felt hung over.  
Obviously Shareen was more used to wine than she was.

Coffee helped.

'I'll have to check on Mulder,' she said.  'I need to change his

bed and see if I can get him to eat something.'

'I'll tell you what.  You sort him out and I'll go down and get 
Mam.  The four wheel drive is the only thing that's going to 
make it on the roads today.  There's sheets and towels in the 
closet at the end of the hall.  By the time you've finished faffing 
around I'll be back and we can go and do some work.  Okay?'

That was an annoying statement too.  

Scully didn't go straight to Mulder but instead went to her own 
room, thoroughly brushed her teeth and swallowed tylenol and 
antacids.  The antacids helped her stomach a lot.  Sighing she 
lay back on the bed.  It was clean and dry and she'd have given 
anything to climb back in it and sleep.  But duty called.  She 
found her phone and reported in to the Denver office.  Then she 
called Skinner. Explaining about the complications of the 
weather and the bodies being in another place wasn't too bad.  
She mentioned her opinion that the perpetrator was probably 
well on his way to another state by now.

Then she let him in on the whammy, Mulder's chickenpox.  She 
told him what she hadn't even told Mulder yet, that he would be 
infectious for ten days after the appearance of the last spots.  It 
would be at least two weeks before they could come home.  
Then she tried to slide the posh accommodation casually past 
him and of course it didn't work.  However there was very little 
he could do about it.


- - - - - - -
Sorting Mulder out took nearly an hour.  He was dazed and 
weak and feeling awful.  Scully ran him a cool bath and added 
baking soda she found in the kitchen because she had some 
vague memory of it soothing inflamed skin.  It may have 
helped.  It was hard to tell.  Whilst he was in the bath she got 
him to eat some apple pie filling she found in a tin and to drink 
a cup of tea.  He was much more interested in ice water.  His 
sore throat couldn't handle much else.

Back in the clean, dry bed Scully gave him a thorough 
examination.  It wasn't pretty.  He had the rash absolutely 
<everywhere> and some of those places were very painful.  In 
spite of his efforts not to scratch he had rubbed the skin raw on 
his ankles, elbows and the backs of his ears.  His temperature 
after the bath was 99.7 which was quite good considering.  His 
heart rate and respirations were high.  It wasn't all bad news, his 
air passages were congested and swollen giving him a sore chest 
and a barking cough but he was coughing well and had no fluid 
in his lungs.  Even so the only things saving his spotty ass from 
being hauled into a hospital was the fact that it was three hours 
away and he was drinking well.



- - - - - -

The insects crawled and stung as he writhed with the agony of 
thousands of spots of fire.  A vulture sat over him, waiting, 
waiting.  Measuring him for death, its head turning from side to 
side to view him better.  Mites chewed through his ear canals 
and eyelids, while worms ate through his eyeballs and out his 
ass.  And the vulture slapped him in the face with a wet 
facecloth.

Mulder woke gasping with shock.  What the fuck...  He was 
being slapped with a wet cloth but it was not a vulture clumsily 
whacking at his face and chest, but the old hag from the motel.  
The insects were gone but the sensation remained.  

He writhed desperately trying to ease the itch, desperately trying 
not to scratch.  His hands clenched in the sheets by his side.  But 
his body threshed, out of conscious control, turning against the 
sheets that were so damp they shifted with him, rubbing his legs 
together, rubbing his chin on his shoulder, his ear on the pillow, 
anything to stop the torture.

Fuck!  What now?  She was trying to drown him.  He spluttered 
turning his head aside as she tried to pour water down his throat.  
'Drink.  You must drink,' she exhorted.  'She said you must 
drink.'

Yes, he wanted to drink.  Struggling up he raised himself 
enough to take some water. A foul pus was draining down his 
throat and the water was cleansing and cool.  Leaning back onto 
the pillow with relief his eyes drooped closed when wack, the 
facecloth hit him again.

His mind struggled to make sense of this malevolent presence.  
Scully must have left him babysat by this old troll with the 
bedside manner of Attila the Hun.  The windows were open and 
the cockroaches were coming in.  Waves of them followed the 
path of the vulture's cloth across his face and chest and he 
struggled to brush them off as they chewed indiscriminately on 
his body and each other.  Metal cockroaches that would suck the 
life force from him.  'Get off,' he screamed.  'Go away, get
off.'

Slap!

Oh god.  Oh god.




- - - - - - -
Scully spent the morning sifting through the gory mess in the 
freezing motel room.  She learnt absolutely nothing that would 
advance the case.  She found an earing down beside a cabinet 
but it could have been left by any number of former occupants.  
The scene of crime team from Chippewa had taken all the 
Polech's belongings and there was nothing left here to give her 
any clues.

Outside the sun came out and the village was picture postcard 
perfect in the snow.  Giving up on the room she exchanged her 
latex gloves for the welcome warmth of her woollen pair and 
made her way across the road to the diner.  She was freezing.

Shareen found her there ten minutes later clutching her coffee 
mug and breathing in the steam in an attempt to warm herself 
up.  Shareen grabbed a cup for herself and joined her.  'Any 
joy?'

Scully grimaced.  'No.  This is just hopeless.  I can't do 
anything until I see the bodies.  I need to see the crime scene 
reports.  I need to talk to the team.'  She glared at Shareen.  
'What?'

Shareen was smiling.  'I've got good news.'  She didn't wait for

a reply.  'The weather's cleared and the police helicopter is 
being wheeled out as we speak.  My lady gets to go over the 
mountain and see the bodies.'  She laughed.  'Cinderella gets to 
go to the ball.'

'Oh thank goodness,' Scully grinned.  'I actually get to do 
something.  Besides I can't stand listening to your mixed 
metaphors.'

'Yeah well.  This time of year we get used to the weather 
holding things up.  They should be here in about twenty 
minutes.  That's all it takes to fly across when the weather's 
good.  Drink up and I'll take you down to the sports field.  
That's where they're going to land.'

Minutes later the women sat in the vehicle peering up into the 
empty sky.  The mountains were etched in sharp relief against 
the clear blue.  I few wisps of cloud blew around their tops.  
Scully pressed the end button on her cell phone and sighed.  She 
had just been speaking to Shareen's mother.  Mulder wasn't 
doing too well.  She was torn by her desire to be with him and 
her feeling of duty to this case.  Hopefully she wouldn't have to 
spend too long in Chippewa and she would be back before dark 
anyway.  Mrs Murphy was doing all the right things.  Mulder 
would be alright.

Shareen was drumming the steering wheel with impatience.  
'What's taking them so long?' she asked.  She checked her 
watch.  'It's been over half an hour.'

'Why?  What's the matter?' Scully asked mildly.

'Oh.'  Shareen looked a bit confused.  'Sorry.  I've got a 
domestic I need to sort out.  I promised Doreen I'd be there in 
five minutes.  Then I got the call about the chopper.  Charlie is a 
bit prone to pointing the shot gun at her.  It hasn't gone off yet 
but they always seem to need me to get things to calm down.'

'Hell.'  Scully was appalled.  'I could have waited.  Leave me 
here and go.'

'I can't do that.  You'll freeze.'  She peered at the sky again.
 
'Where are they?'

'What about back up?  You can't go into a hostage situation 
alone.'

'No it's fine.  Honestly.  They do this on a monthly rota.  I'll
go 
out there.  They'll scream and shout about something the other 
has done.  I'll say "Put down the gun".  Charlie will say, "not 
till she says sorry".  I'll say "Doreen?"  Doreen will say "I
did 
not eat all the ham" because it will all be about something 
stupid like that.  They'll both say sorry.  The gun will be put 
down and we'll all have a drink.  They just might be getting a 
bit uptight with me taking so long to come though.'

Scully was looking at her amazed.  Shareen shrugged.  'It takes 
all sorts.  Actually it works for them.  They get to blow off 
steam, get some attention...  It's not they way I'd like to live 
but hey...' She drummed her fingers some more.  'What is 
taking so long?' 

As if on cue Shareen's phone rang.  Scully could tell instantly it 
wasn't hers because hers didn't play the William Tell Overture 
when she got a call.

'Hello.'
----
'Ted.  Hi.  Where are you?  You're supposed to be here.'
---
'No.  Shit.'
----
'No sorry Ted.  Not you.  No it's not your fault.'
---
'Yeah.  Okay.'  She sighed.  
---
'Yeah.  We'll just have to try again tomorrow then.'
---
'Okay.' She looked really pissed off.
---
'Right then.  Bye.'

She flipped off and turned to face Scully.  'That's it.  Your 
ride's not coming.'  She pointed up at the wispy clouds above 
the peaks.  'It doesn't look like it from here but apparently there 
are high winds up there and it isn't safe to come over.  Sorry.'  
She thumped the steering wheel in frustration and started the 
truck.  'I'll just have to take you back.'

'What about going by road?' Scully asked tentatively.

'Oh hell no.  There is a lot more snow up there than here.  It will 
be days before you can drive through the pass.'

'Well at least I can back you up on your domestic.'

'No!'  Shareen seemed to surprise herself with her vehemence.  
'Sorry.  No thanks.  We have this thing all worked out.  It has to 
play out a certain way.  I don't think a stranger being there is a 
good idea.'

'You're sure?'

'Yes.  Thanks.  Look I've got an idea.  There is no point in you 
sticking around in town.  Why don't you take this truck, I can 
take the car up to Charlie's no problem, and go back to the 
lodge.  Mam can drive it back.  You might as well have the 
afternoon off.  Read a book in front of the fire or something.  
It's not like there's anything else you can do.  I'll phone you if

there's any change.  You never know.  They might be able to 
get through later in the afternoon.'



- - - - -
Scully carefully piloted the heavy vehicle up the narrow track.  
There had been no more snow and she could easily follow the 
tracks left by Shareen that morning.  It would be a while before 
she could get the car out of here though.  The wind was starting 
to pick up on the ground now and the trees were dropping their 
load of snow in great incontinent blobs.  One dumped right on 
the windscreen forcing her to come to a dead halt until the 
wipers could clear it.  She was pleased then of the solid vehicle 
around her.

'Hello,' she called softly as she came through the front door.

'In here,' called a muffled voice.

Scully followed the sound and found Mrs Murphy fossicking 
through the huge utility room off the kitchen.  'Here,' she said 
in triumph holding something up.  'I knew there was one in here 
somewhere.'  She came out into the light and handed Scully an 
electric fan.  'Shareen phoned to say you were coming back.  I 
think you need one of these upstairs.'

'Oh,' Scully sighed.  'That bad?'

'Yep.'  The two women walked up to Mulder's room and 
stopped just inside the doorway.  'He had a real bad time about 
half an hour after you left,' Mrs Murphy gave a gleeful report.  
'Cockroaches and such eating him up.  But I gave the tylenol at 
11 like you said and he settled right down after half an hour or 
so.  Bin sort of sleepin like that,' she indicated the twitchy body 
on the bed, 'about an hour I guess.  He's pretty hot again but I 
didn't want to wake him to take his temperature.  I figured sleep 
was probably more important.'

'Thanks.' Cockroaches huh?  Irreverently she wondered if they 
came with a minder named Bambi.  Still she supposed with 
Mulder's wide range of possible nightmare choices cockroaches 
were probably logical under the circumstances.

'I've done some washing.  It will need to go in the drier soon.  
You've got plenty of sheets if you need them.'

'Oh thank you.' A huge yawn caught her.  'I'm sorry.  I'm just

so tired.'

'You didn't get much sleep last night did you.  You ought to 
have a bit of shut eye yourself love, while you've got the 
chance.'

'Thanks.  I might.'

She saw Mrs Murphy off and went back to Mulder.  This is 
what her heart had wanted to do all morning.  Sifting through 
the grizzly mess in the motel room she had been thinking of 
Mulder. Dammit Mulder.  How can I get anything done when 
you're ill?  She set up the fan and turned it on slow.  She wanted 
to cool him, not chill him.  

She sat on the side of the dishevelled bed and he instantly 
started awake.  'Hey,' she smiled, 'how're you doing?'  He 
stared at her disorientated, his eyes swollen and red.  She 
smoothed his damp hair off his forehead and laid his hand on 
his cheek.  He was burning.

'Scully.  Thank god.'

'Shhh.'

He squirmed, 'God Scully, he moaned.  'How long?'

'Poor Fox.'  She held his hand.  'Three, maybe four more days.'

'No!'  He was horrified.  'I can't.  Scully I just can't.  

'Shhh.  It will be alright.  I've got some things that should help 
the itch and if we can keep your temperature down you 
shouldn't hallucinate.'  No more than usual anyway.  She 
poured him some water from the jug on the cabinet and helped 
him raise himself to drink it.  His hair at the back of his neck 
was soaked with sweat and the skin there was even hotter than 
on his face.

He gulped at the water and looked up.  'How did you know 
that?' he croaked.

'Mrs Murphy said you were raving about cockroaches.'

He shuddered.  'She's horrible.  Like a vulture perched over me 
waiting for me to die.  She hates men.'  He grabbed her hand.  
'Don't leave me with her again.'  It was that whiney toddler 
voice.  'Please.'

She plonked the thermometer in his mouth and shut him off.  
'It's alright.  I'm staying here this afternoon.  I can't get to

Chippewa and I can't do anything else.'  She held up the bag 
she'd bought at the pharmacy before coming home.  'I've got 
some anti itch stuff to put in the bath.  I'll go and start it 
running.'  She grinned at him.  'Then I've got some good old 
fashioned calamine lotion.  You will survive Mulder, I 
promise.'

Scully had started the bath and was pouring in the coal tar lotion 
when Mulder staggered into the bathroom behind her.  He had a 
towel held loosely around his waist and lowered himself 
carefully to the edge of the bath.  He looked truly dreadful.  The 
fever seemed to be burning the flesh off him, his cheekbones 
and eye sockets stood out in stark relief.  The rash was red and 
splotchy all over him, the older blisters now going yellow and 
scabby.  His sweat soaked hair stood on end.  He handed her the 
thermometer.  He looked at it first.

Scully gave in to the impulse to whistle.  Mulder shivered.  
'103.6.  Pretty impressive Mulder.'  She shook it down and 
smiled gently.  'Come and get in the bath.  It will help a lot.'

Mulder grimaced.  'What is that?  It looks like piss.'

'It's Pinetarsel. It's made from coal tar.'

'It smells like it.'

'And I suggest you don't pee in the bath.  It won't do your skin 
any good.'

Carefully Mulder clambered in and sighed.  'Oh,' he said with 
surprise.  'That is so good.'  He submerged, gently shaking his 
head so that his hair fluffed out.  Scully looked at him in the 
yellow water and suddenly burst out laughing.  When Mulder 
surfaced she was stifling giggles. 

'What?' he asked crossly.  

She bit her tongue and debated with herself.  A burst of laughter 
forced itself out from between her teeth.

'What?'

'Oh god,' she gasped hysterically.

'What Scully?  I don't see anything very funny here.'

She collapsed onto the toilet seat spluttering.  'Oh god Mulder.  
Do you know?  In England don't they eat something called 
Spotted Dick?'

'Scully!'

'I'm sorry.  I just...' She gestured helplessly.  'I've never
seen 
anything like that.'

Mulder moaned.  'I hope you never do again.'  His lips 
twitched.  'If you come anywhere near to trying to find out what 
it tastes like I just might have to shoot you.'

'Oh poor Mulder.'  Scully sobered a little.  'You really have 
gone off oral sex.  I never thought I'd see the day.'

Mulder and pouted and submerged again, holding a hand over 
his privates to hide them from view.  With his other hand he 
fanned the water so it flowed around his body soothing his 
sensitive skin. 

By the time he surfaced again Scully had herself under control.  
'Speaking of oral sex.  Have you been having that dream 
again?'

Mulder shook his head and coughed a little.  'I don't think so.  
But everything's been pretty muddled.  I'm too uncomfortable 
to come up with sexy dreams right now.  There have been 
plenty of insects though.'  He shuddered.  Scully moved onto 
the edge of the bath and gently stirred the water.  She couldn't 
even stroke him at the moment.

The hot tub was enormous.  She thought sadly of how nice it 
would be to be in there with him if he were well.  'Do you want 
me to turn the bubbles on?'

He shook his head.  'That would be too much I think.'

'Do you want anything to eat?'

He shook his head again and she didn't push it.  She 
remembered what else she had for him.  'Okay.  I've got you 
another present.'  She held up a plastic shopping bag, a gleam in 
her eye.

Mulder looked at her puzzled.  He was too tired for games.  
'What?'

She grinned at him.

'Come on.  Just tell me.'

'Iced tea.'  She pulled it out and he made a grab for it.  She held 
it up out of his reach.

His brain ticked over with an audible clunk.  He got it then and 
smiled tiredly at her.  'Scully it must be love.'

He got a gentle kiss and the box of tea as a reward.




Leaving Mulder with his head back against a folded towel 
Scully went and changed the bed.  The mattress was damp so 
she man handled it and turned it around, putting a large bath 
towel under the sheet before she made it again.  She put another 
towel on the sheet and left the comforter folded on the chair.  
He wouldn't be needing that for a few days yet.

She looked around then and realised that other than the bed, the 
room was extraordinarily tidy.  There were no clothes lying 
around as was usual with Mulder.  Curious Scully opened the 
closet to find his suit hanging up and his case centred on the 
shelf provided.  Moving into her room she found the bed made, 
the bathroom clean and fresh towels on the rails.  Mrs Murphy 
had been busy.  She was quite pleased her bed had looked slept 
in.

Remembering about the washing she went downstairs and found 
the machine just chuntering to a finish in the room behind the 
kitchen.  Pulling out an armload of sheets she found all the 
clothes missing from Mulder's room, his sweat pants, 
yesterday's shirt and several pairs of boxers.  Tangled in 
amongst it were her own knickers and clothes left on the 
bathroom floor last night.  She winced.  That was a bit of a give 
away.

Back in the bathroom she found Mulder sound asleep, sunk 
down in the yellow water, his mouth barely above the water 
line.  She had to smile.  He was such a bizarre sight.  She 
wondered if she should take a photo, just to embarrass him later.

The water which had been cool to start with was now very cold, 
other wise she might have left him there longer.  As it was she 
had trouble stirring him enough to get him out of the tub.  She 
patted him dry gently and led him yawning to the bed.  Before 
he lay down she fed him flu strength coldrex tablets and he 
drank another glass of water. He yawned some more.  'Feel 
better,' he mumbled.  He was asleep again before his head hit 
the pillow.

Scully painted him with calamine lotion.  The smell of it 
suddenly caused her mind to flash back to the dreadful summer 
when she was seven when first Bill then Charlie then herself 
and Missie together caught chickenpox giving her mother 
something like six weeks with one or more of them sick.  God, 
poor Mom.  She had never thought about what it must have 
been like for her, parenting alone with sick kids for weeks and 
weeks and no one to give her a break.

Tenderly she painted the pink goo onto Mulder's skin.  She put 
it everywhere, all over his face where the cotton wool stuck in 
his beard stubble so that he looked like a depraved Father 
Christmas in training.  She painted it down his arms, chest and 
legs and even cautiously around his genitals.  He was sound 
asleep and never even twitched.  

She laid another towel beside him on the bed and using a 
technique learned from watching nurses perform it many times 
she bent up his knee and used it for leverage to push him over. 
He moaned a little at that, smacked his lips and settled on his 
side. Then she painted his back.

She left him naked on the towel in the middle of the bed.  There 
was no one else here to see him and now he was cool she 
wanted to try and keep him that way.  His temperature was 
100.6.  She'd brought it down 3 degrees.  She was pretty 
pleased with that.



With Mulder sleeping so soundly it seemed an ideal time to take 
a nap herself.  Idly she wandered across the hall to her own 
room and lay on the bed.  She yawned and decided to get under 
the covers so she got up and turned the bed down.  No, she 
thought.  Maybe it would be nice to doze down by the fire.  She 
wandered downstairs to find that Mrs Murphy had laid the fire 
and all she had to do was strike a match.  She did that and 
settled on the couch with a pillow, a rug and a National 
Geographic from the book case.  After a few moments she 
threw the magazine down and stared at the flames.  This wasn't 
working.  She went back upstairs, pulled the couch in Mulder's 
room closer to the bed where she could see him, pulled the 
discarded comforter over herself because it was cold in the 
room and promptly went to sleep.

She woke about an hour later, disturbed by her radar that said 
that Mulder was getting restless.  He seemed to be searching for 
something so playing a hunch she covered him with a sheet and 
watched amused as he grabbed the edge, pulled it to his chin 
and snuggled down.  He slept again. 

By late afternoon his temperature was edging up and he was 
restless and uncomfortable.  He was dozing, in and out of the 
edges of sleep, falling from nightmare to full alertness passing 
through a stage of frenzied scratching.  The insects were back.  
His breathing was distressed and his mood when awake was 
constantly close to tears.  He really wasn't well enough to get up 
for another bath.

During one alert period he be came very concerned trying to 
work out where he caught the illness.  'I had a sore throat that 
night in California after we'd been to FPS.  I felt really odd 
then.'

'I know Mulder but you must have been incubating it for longer 
than that.  Probably another whole week.  You were really 
hyped up on adrenaline and testosterone that night.  Once that 
crashed that was when you started to feel sick.'

He tried to leer.  'You didn't complain.'

'I did.  You just didn't take any notice.'

'I did.  I would have.'

'Never mind Mulder.'

'I didn't take advantage of you.  I wouldn't.'

'It's okay Mulder.'

'No.  Not all right.  I was playing.  I thought you wanted to 
play.'

'We'll talk about it later Mulder.'

'I didn't hurt you?'  His eyes were wide and horrified.

'No Mulder.'

'Scully what did I do?'

'Nothing Mulder.  It's okay.'

'I thought you wanted to play.'

'I don't really do Xena very well Mulder.'

'I'm sorry.  Sorry.'

'Shh.  It's okay.' She brought the conversation back to the 
beginning.  'That was the night you started showing symptoms 
of this.  It manifests as a flu like illness to start with.  Remember 
your sore throat.  It's not until the spots come out that you 
realise what you've got.'  
 
The subject change worked.  'But I don't remember seeing 
anyone with spots.'

'You didn't have to see them.  You could have picked it up 
from some kid in the supermarket before their mother knew 
they were infectious.  Just like you've probably infected half of 
everyone on the plane the other day.'

'It's a virus?'

'Yes.  It's just a virus and it spreads by droplet infection.'

'So I'm infectious?'

'Yes.'

'You're not...'

'No.  I've had it.  How come you never caught it as a kid.'

'How the hell would I know.'  He twisted in an orgy of 
squirming and Scully bathed him with cool water with the coal 
tar in it.

Later he woke her from a doze with one word.

'Snakes!'

He was staring straight ahead, deadly still.  'Snakes Scully.'

Scully jumped up to sooth him.  'It's alright Mulder.  There are 
no snakes here.  There are no snakes.  You're safe.'

'Snakes!'  He was trying to climb through the head board.  
'Noo...'

'Shh.  It's okay.  It's okay.'  She held him tight.  The heat of

him was enormous.  'There are no snakes Mulder.  I'll keep you 
safe.'

He drifted off again.

Next time he said snakes she jumped up quickly.  'No snakes 
Mulder.  No snakes.'

She nearly choked when he turned his head deliberately to face 
her.  'I know that Scully.'  He sighed.  'I was just working out. 

That was the last time I felt this bad.'  His head flopped back on 
the pillow.  'I feel so sick. All of me.  I did then too.'

Relieved he wasn't seeing snakes, she launched into an 
explanation about toxins.  She could see she'd lost him and 
stopped.  'You are ill now Mulder.'  Gently she ran the cloth 
around his neck and let the water run down his chest.  'I'm so 
sorry you're sick again.'

'Been sick too much lately.'

'Yes you have.  I think once you get over this you need to take a 
long vacation somewhere in the sun.'

'Will you come with me Scully?'

She smiled.  'Wait till you're better and ask me nicely.  I'll 
decide then.'

'What's that noise?'

'What noise?'

'Can you hear it?  There's a dinging sound.'  He shook his head 
and screwed a finger around in his ear.  'Maybe it's just me.'

Scully turned her head on the side and concentrated.  'No you're 
right.  I can hear something.  What the hell is it?  I'll go and 
look.'

With her weapon drawn just to be on the safe side Scully started 
down the stairs.  She crept across the floor to the kitchen and 
shoved her weapon into her pocket with a sigh and a sense of 
relief that there had been no one to see her.  

The noise was coming from the oven timer.  A little 
investigation showed that Mrs Murphy had made her a casserole 
and left it slowly cooking in the oven.  Tucked beside the dish 
were two potatoes perfectly cooked in their jackets.  Blinking 
back sudden tears Scully felt overwhelmed by the kindness 
behind the gesture.  She groped around for an oven cloth and 
removed her dinner.  Except for Shareen last night no one had 
made a home cooked meal for her in a very long time.  



Scully had just finished her dinner when her phone rang.  

'Scully.'

'Hi.  It's Shareen here.  Just thought I'd better check in and see

if you found your tea.'

Scully smiled.  'I did.  Thank your mother for me will you.  It 
was lovely of her to do that.'

Scully could tell that Shareen was smiling too.  'I will.  I'm sure 
she was more than happy to do it.'

'How did you do with your domestic?'

'Oh.  Same old same old.  All over now.  No real problems.  
How are things at your end?'

'Not going too well.'  Scully sank into a chair.  'I'm wondering

whether I shouldn't be trying to get him back to Denver.  He 
could really do with being on an IV and a bit of sedation 
probably wouldn't hurt either.  He's exhausted but he can't get 
any rest.'

'Will he be alright through the night do you think?'

'I suppose so.  He's not dangerously ill, not as long as I keep on 
top of his temperature.  I'm just worried.  I can't help it.'

'Well look, it's dark now and it's pretty cold.  I could come in 
with the four wheel drive but it's a long way to Denver.  
Wouldn't it be better to wait for the morning?'

Scully sighed.  'Yeah.  You're probably right.'  Mulder had to 
be better off in bed than sitting in a car for three hours.

'You're tired.  Do you want me to come and sit for a bit so you 
can sleep.'

'No thanks,' Scully smiled.  'That's very kind of you but it's

probably better if you didn't.'

'He doesn't like me huh?'

Scully grimaced.  'No.  Sorry.  He doesn't.'

'No biggy.  How about I bring a bottle of wine again and sit 
with you?'

Scully grinned.  'Awfully tempting but no.  Better not.  I don't 
think I can survive another session like last night quite so soon.'

'Oh .  Okay.'  Shareen sounded disappointed.  'Well I guess I'd 
better go then.  I'll call you in the morning okay.  Oh and if you 
need me in the night don't be scared to call.'

'I will.  Thanks.'  Scully felt warm and cared for. 
'Goodnight.'

'Night Dana.' 


- - - - -
When Scully came back into Mulder's room his condition 
shocked her.  She'd become accustomed to him gradually 
worsening but not having seen him for nearly an hour made her 
see clearly how much he had deteriorated.  He was sprawled on 
his side in the middle of the bed, the sheet tangled around his 
middle.  His eyes were open but glazed and unfocused.  He was 
still distressed but was now so exhausted he just lay limp, every 
out going breath punctuated by a grunting sound that was a 
cross between a sigh and a groan.  uuh- breathe  -  uuh.

Shit!

'Mulder.'

Slowly his eyes tracked to find her.

'Scully?'  His voice was so quiet she barely heard him.  

'I want to check you over again partner.'

'ughh-kay.'  His eyes were rolling in his head.  He couldn't 
focus.

The first thing she did was take his temperature. And that was 
now over 104.  She couldn't get the room any colder.  The 
window was open and the fan was on but the heating was 
connected to the whole house and couldn't be turned right off.  
Besides even if she could, at least half of him was nestled in the 
humid sauna his body heat was creating in the bed. He had been 
drinking well all day but it was no longer enough and he was 
starting to dehydrate.  He was easily as sick, if not more so than 
he had been last night.

She contemplated.  Should she ring Shareen back and get them 
out at least as far as her mother's motel in Wood Creek.  That 
way, if an emergency evacuation became necessary at least they 
wouldn't be too hard to get to.

But that would involve a half hour trip in the freezing cold to 
get to a cold room and a cold bed in a dingy motel where a 
murder had been committed.  That last was the main point, she 
just knew that Mulder would not want to go back there.

'Sculll...'

'Shh Mulder.'  She refreshed the cloth and wiped it around his 
neck and across his face again.  Damn, she should have moved 
him out this morning.  It wasn't like she had managed to 
advance the case at all by being here was it?  And Jesus, 
shouldn't her first priority be to her partner?

Yeah.  Well if she hadn't been so mad at him it might have 
been.  But she did have to admit that part of her had wanted to 
solve the case on her own, without any help from him.  Which 
wouldn't have happened even if he had stayed home because 
the weather would still have been against her.  But, she could 
have enjoyed Shareen's company without being made to feel 
disloyal.  She heaved a sigh.  When it came to Mulder nothing 
ever went smoothly.

Movement on the bed caught her attention as Mulder suddenly 
struggled to sit up.  'Don' worry 'bout me.  I'm o...' very 
deliberate effort at speech,  'kay.  Jus go get him.  Get the 
bastard.'

'Who Mulder?'  She pushed him back down and trailed the 
washcloth across his shoulders as far back as she could reach.  
Shit he had scratched raw sores onto his arms.

'Rat.... Ratboy o' course.  Go get him.  Catch him Scully.'

'Shh Mulder.  Krychek isn't here.  It's okay.  You just rest.'

'He killed him Scully.  He killed him.  You gotta go get him.  
Please Scully.  You gotta get him 'for he kills you.'

'Mulder, you need to rest.  Krychek isn't here.  Alright?  Do 
you hear me?  You're sick and delirious but you're going to be 
okay.'  Scully wasn't at all surprised that old nightmares were 
haunting him but she still felt like crying.  'I'm safe too.  No 
one is going to hurt us.'  She rubbed gentle cool circles on his 
chest.  'Can you lift your knee up?  That's right like that.  Now 
I'm going to bend your head forward.  Does that hurt 
anywhere?'  He didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge the 
contortions so obviously it didn't.  Well at least he hadn't 
progressed to meningitis.  'I'm going to run you another bath,' 
she told no one in particular.  'I don't know how we're going to 
get you in it but we'll give it our best shot.'  

A bath was all she could think of to do for him.  It had been so 
successful at lunch time she just hoped it could work the same 
magic again; if she could get him in and out of it without 
dropping him on the floor.  Because if that happened he would 
probably have to stay there.

This time the bath water was stone cold.  She got him seated on 
the side of the bed and heaved him upright taking most of his 
weight over her shoulders.  Thank god it wasn't far to go.  She 
staggered them into the bathroom and backed him up until his 
butt hit the edge of the bath.  He gasped as he hit the cold tile 
and started to jump up but Scully held him down.  

'In Mulder.'  She shoved and he went.

He went backwards, head first and feet in the air.  There was a 
tremendous splash of yellow water, Mulder howled and went 
under.  Scully was surprised the water didn't steam.  She 
grabbed him under the armpits, nearly falling in herself, hauled 
him around and pulled his head up.  She shivered.  The water 
was cold.  

He sat gasping and blinking at her. 'Cold!'  It was the first 
coherent thing he'd said in an hour.

'Yeah.'

'Fuck!'



The bath worked but it wasn't comfortable.  To begin with he 
fought, thrashing around and trying to get out.  Within a few 
minutes though he calmed down, becoming coherent enough to 
understand why he needed to sit in a freezing bath.  He still 
didn't like it but he didn't fight any more.  Pulling his knees up 
to his chest he wrapped his arms around them and dropped his 
head on his knees. He was exhausted, sick and thoroughly 
miserable. He cried.

Scully hated it when Mulder cried.

After half an hour or so he came out of his huddle and lay back 
in the bath.  He kept his head to the side watching her, his eyes 
dark and full of tears.  They watched each other, him in the cold 
water, her sitting on the wet floor beside him.  They seemed to 
have run out of words.  Every now and again he would shiver.

Finally Mulder broke the silence.  'I've been in a bath like this 
before.'  His voice rasped past his sore throat.

'You were in a tub in Alaska to try and warm you up.  That was 
the opposite.'

'No.' He shook his head.  'I don't mean that.'  He winced and 
cleared his throat.  In that minute he did remind Scully of when 
he woke up in Alaska after being so ill.  'I had a fever.  When I 
was little.'

Scully smiled at him.  'Did you?'

'Yeah.  Not chickenpox obviously. Don't know what it was.'

'Don't talk Mulder if it hurts.'

He ignored her.  'I think I was about 5 or six.  It was school 
holidays.  That really pissed me off.  I should have got sick in 
school time.'

'Yeah.  That sort of thing happened to me too.'

'I remember my Gran putting me in the bath.  's's funny.  I'd 
forgotten.  Mom and Dad...' He screwed his face up at the 
effort to dredge up the childhood memory.  'Mom wasn't there.'  
A look of horror crossed his face.  'OH...'

Scully's stomach sank.  'What Mulder?' she asked with dread.

Mulder turned on his back and stared at the ceiling his jaw 
working.  Scully could see his fists bunch at his sides.

'What?  What happened to your Mom?'

'Nothin,' he mumbled.  'It was me.'  He screwed his eyes shut.  
'I remember now.'  For a minute the only sound was his heavy 
breaths.  Then quietly he started to speak.

'Dad took me off school the last day of term.  He was taking me 
to see where he worked.  I was really excited.  He'd never done 
that before.'  Scully just knew she didn't want to hear this.

'I remember the morning.  We had a real good time.  We 
stopped for an icecream and played with a ball in a park.  Then 
Dad took me into a building and said this was where he worked.  
It was a big place...' His voice trailed off.  'Everyone was real 
nice to me.  Shaking my hand and saying how nice it was to 
meet me.  Then we went into a room where everyone had white 
coats and Dad said they were special kinds of doctors.'

Mulder turned back to face her and there were tears running 
down his cheeks again.  He reached out his hand and Scully 
grasped it.  'I don't remember any more,' he said in a small 
voice.  'The next thing I knew was waking up in my bed at 
home and I was real sick.'  He swallowed painfully.  'I wanted 
Mom but she wasn't there.  Grandma was there and she was real 
mad at Dad.  She said that Mom had taken Sam away for a little 
holiday but I know she hadn't cause I heard her shouting at Dad 
in the hall.

'I thought she was mad because Dad had let me get sick when 
he took me out and I'd caught a cold and Mom had taken the 
baby so she wouldn't get it but that wasn't it was it?'  His voice

rose to a shriek.  'Dad made me get sick.  Maybe it was a test.  
Maybe it was even a vaccine.  Christ maybe it was an accident 
but sure as hell it was his fault.  Wasn't it?' 

'Mulder.'  Scully was aghast.

'No wonder Mom took Samantha and ran.  Christ knows what 
he had planned for her.'

'Mulder calm down.'  She racked her brain for something to say 
to diffuse the situation.  'I think you're putting a little too much

emphasis on a conversation you barely remember overhearing 
from a time when you were very young and from your account 
sick and feverish.'

Mulder just gazed at her, his outburst exhausting him again.  
But his eyes held his answer.  It's true Scully they said, and you 
believe it too.

Nearly half an hour later he started grousing about going 
wrinkly.  Scully tore herself away to change the bed.  She 
hauled him out of the tub, patted him dry and rolled him onto 
the fresh sheet.  Once again he was asleep long before she had 
painted him with calomine.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Mulder woke from a sound sleep to the realisation that he was 
being shaken.  Discomfort found its way around the sleep and 
he held on, trying to slip back under but the shaking wouldn't 
stop.

'Mulder.  Come on sweetheart.  Wake up.'

Oh.  It was Scully.

'Gerroff.'

Jesus his whole body hurt.  He was so tired.

'Mulder.  Come on.  I need you to wake up now.'

'Ugghhhh...' Slowly he realised it was useless.  He was awake 
and it felt bloody awful.  He cracked open a painful eyelid and 
managed to focus on Scully's sunny smile.

'Hey.  Good morning sleepy head.'

He couldn't help it.  His lips twitched and raised to meet that 
smile.  If anything Scully's smile broadened and it made the 
effort worth while.

'That's better.'  She sat on the edge of the bed.  'I'm sorry
I had 
to wake you but I have to go out soon.  I want to get you sorted 
out first.  I didn't want you to wake up alone and not know 
where I was.'

''time?'

Scully grinned and helped him up enough to drink some water.  
'It's nearly eleven.  You've slept about fourteen hours.  How do 
you feel?'

Mulder gave it some thought.  'Like crap.  I'm snotty and fluey 
and I hurt bloody everywhere.  And, I'm itchy as hell.'  He 
squirmed a bit for emphasis then lay back.  'But I think I feel 
better.'  A slow smile worked its way over his face.  'My mind 
seems to be working better.'

Scully smiled some more.  'That's good.  Your temperature is 
down and you slept really well.  I think you're over the worst.'

'Thank God for that.'  He looked at her suddenly suspicious.  
'Where are you going?'

'Shareen has organised a video link up with the coroner and the 
morgue.  It's not ideal but at least I can get a look at the bodies.  
I might be able to deduce something.'

'Is the weather still crap?'

'Yep.  It snowed again last night.  There is no chance of getting 
to Chippewa.  I think we might have to give up on this one.  The 
perp is going to be long gone.  Unless something else like this 
happens somewhere else I don't think we're going to get him.'

Mulder sighed.  'I don't like the thought of giving up Scully.  
And I don't like the thought of having to wait for this to happen 
again.'

'I know.  But we have to be realistic.'  She got up.  'Anyway I 
haven't given up yet.  I'm going to run you another bath, a bit 
warmer this time.  Then you're going to eat something before I 
go.  I should be back before dark so you should be alright with 
out me.'

'You're not letting the vulture lady back are you?'

Scully laughed and started filling the tub.  Mulder toddled into 
the bathroom a moment later.  He turned his back self 
consciously and used the toilet then came to stand beside her, a 
towel around his middle.

'I just can't work out what the Polechs were doing here,' Scully 
said.  'I have a feeling that if I can work that out I might have a 
motive, maybe even a suspect.'

'Is someone doing a background check on them?' 

'Under control but nothing yet.  The sherrif and his people seem 
to be quite efficient.  I've only spoken on the phone but I don't 
think they trust me, it's odd.'

'They don't know you like I do.'

She raised her eyebrows.  'Shareen says it's just a thing about 
female law enforcement officers.'

'Ah Shareen frosty tits.'

'Mulder!'

'I don't like her and I don't trust her.'

Scully found that really patronising.  'Oh I see.  Another 
"feeling" by Spooky Mulder?'

'Yes.'

'And what is this feeling based on then?  Is it because I was 
enjoying myself with her the other night?  Were you jealous?'

'Did I have reason to be jealous Scully?  Was that cosy scene 
leading to something?  Did I interrupt something that night?'

'Mulder!'  Scully was too stunned to defend herself.

'Is that what's been happening.  God I'm stupid,' he smacked 
his forehead.  'All this time thinking I might have a chance with 
you.  Take it slowly and I might win the prize.  Freaky Fox 
Mulder just might make it big with the woman of his dreams.  
You let me think that, but all the time I didn't stand a chance 
because it was never going to be me you wanted.  Was it?!  Was 
it Scully?'  He was shrieking.  'You don't want me because I'm 
a man.  You like women.'  

Scully just sat there as her blood slowly turned to ice.  Where 
the hell had this come from?

Mulder continued remorselessly.  'Did she run her fingers 
through your hair?  Did you laugh together about your devoted 
partner who follows you like a puppy?  Did you?'  He seemed 
about to cry.  'How many real partners have you had since 
you've been with me?'

Scully handed him the bottle of pine tar lotion. She was 
horrified and didn't know how to start to refute what he had 
said. 'Put some of that in the bath,' she said coldly.  She didn't

believe he could think her like that.  She left the room.



Half an hour later Scully was just about under control.  She felt 
like she had been mortally wounded.  She could barely breathe.  
Logically Scully knew Mulder was ill and not rational but it still 
hurt like hell because she loved him desperately.  How could he 
not know that?  They had been lovers physically for such a short 
time but so much more than that for so much longer.  Surely he 
knew how she felt.  But apparently he didn't.  He didn't seem to 
know her at all.  And now..?  If he thought that, how could he 
ever trust her again?  And if he thought that, could she trust 
him?

Scully curled on a sofa "reading" a magazine as she ignored 
noises from upstairs.  Finally Mulder staggered downstairs 
dressed in the towelling robe.  Scully sat up.  They had to get 
on.  They had to work together.  They had to salvage something.

'Hi.  Are you feeling better?'  He actually looked better except 
that he'd been crying.  She reached the back of her hand to his 
forehead and he leant into her touch.  Much cooler.  She 
snatched her hand away.  

'Scully,' he was hesitant, his voice gruff.  'I am so sorry.  I
was 
way out of line.'

'Yes Mulder you were.'

'I'm just, I was.., god,' he hitched at his sleeve indicating the 
spots.  'I was going mad.  Please Scully...' Tears weren't far 
away.

'Did you mean it?'  So much hung on the answer.

He looked at her, his eyes dark with pain, his need for her 
written all over him.  'No.'

She suspected he'd thought about that pretty hard in the last half 
hour.

'Scully?'

She held out her hand and he took it sinking down beside her.  
She could feel his heart racing. They were both shaking and she 
gathered him into her arms.  'It's alright Mulder.  We'll work it 
out.'  He stank of coal tar lotion. 

Mulder buried his head in her chest.  Scully's fingers ran gently 
across his scalp feeling the spots there as he slowly calmed.  
With his old trick of reading her mind he said, 'That stuff 
worked well.'  He grinned, 'Even the inside of my ears feel 
better.  It smells awful though.'

'Well we won't hold that against it. It's been a lifesaver I
think.'  
They seemed to make a tacit understanding to talk about 
innocuous things.  'Do you feel like eating anything?'

He didn't, but Scully insisted.

Scully went ferreting through the kitchen cupboards and 
discovered lots of tins and dry provisions.  Peaches seemed like 
just what the doctor ordered.  When tempted Mulder found they 
slipped down quite easily.  

Scully decided to heat up last night's leftovers for herself.  She 
came back with her plate to find Mulder sitting up on the sofa 
flicking through her magazine.  'Do you have to go out this 
afternoon then?'

''Fraid so.  About two I've got a video link with the coroner.'

'Scully,' he motioned towards her plate, 'Is that what Shareen 
made the other night?'

'No.  It's what her Mom made for me last night.  It was really 
nice of her.'

'Could I try some of that?'

Scully was puzzled.  'Are you sure you're up to it?'

'I just want a taste.'

'Okay.'  She passed him the fork, held out the plate.  'What?'  
He seemed odd.  Was he about to launch into another tirade 
about Shareen and her mom?

But he didn't.  He didn't say anything.  He took a mouthful, 
then his face dropped and he bolted up like he was stung.  A 
quick fumble with the door and he fell out onto the terrace on 
his hands and knees.  His body heaved and he started to vomit.

- - - -
Mulder hunched on the snow on the terrace as his body ejected 
his horror.  Muscle spasms forced his jaw wide and rolling 
waves of muscle contractions through his abdomen shot his 
stomach contents out to spatter steaming in the snow. He felt a 
moment of acute embarrassment as his sphincters were forced 
open before all conscious thought left him as the spasms went 
on and on.  He was turning inside out.  His vision started 
tunnelling and he had no chance to draw breath.

- - - -
Scully stared in surprise.  She expected him to stop throwing up, 
to wipe his hand over his mouth and come back inside.  But he 
didn't.  He stayed there on his knees, his whole body 
convulsing.  There was nothing left for him to bring up, no bile 
even but the retching continued.  Cautiously she came up behind 
him.  Her heart sank as she registered the smell of more than 
just vomit.  What the hell was wrong?  

Her mind raced through the possibilities and the complications 
of chickenpox.  Meningitis seemed to be the only thing that 
would make him this sick but it didn't really fit, he didn't seem 
ill enough in any other way.

'Mulder?'  She knelt beside him.  His arms were shaking with 
effort and he was about to collapse.  'Mulder, try to relax.'  
Frightened she put her arms around his chest and rolled him 
across her knees.  He collapsed on her, heavy, his torso tight 
with convulsions, his head hanging.  She tried rubbing his 
abdomen.  'Try to let it go.'  The position change seemed to 
help and the spasms eased.  He started gasping in great lungs 
full of cold air, tears streaming down his cheeks.  'Easy,' she 
soothed using the collar of his robe to wipe bile off his chin.  An 
after shock hit him and he retched again.  'Easy.'  

As his breath came back he sagged against her, completely 
spent.  'Hell Mulder.  That was impressive.'  He wasn't the only 
one who could make light of bad situations.  

Eventually he gained enough strength to lift his head and look 
up, his eyes full of tears.  'I want to go home,' he said.

Scully smiled, relieved.  'That's a little difficult.  But do you 
think we could go inside.  It's pretty cold out here.'

- - - -

Getting Mulder inside had been a mission and now he lay on the 
sofa as Scully calmly went about cleaning him up.  She was a 
gentle and matter of fact as a mother washing her child and 
Mulder was ridiculously grateful.  He knew she was taking the 
chance to check him over and that she was very worried by 
what had happened but he was too tired and scared to tell her 
what was behind it.  He was shivering and his insides hurt from 
the violence of the vomiting attack. 

Scully finished with her washcloth and left him while she went 
to get some blankets.  He didn't know what to do.  He didn't 
want to take the chance of loosing her again but he knew he had 
to tell her.  The trouble was, she wouldn't want to believe him.

She came back with a quilt and tucked it around him so gently 
and carefully that it made him cry.  He was embarrassed about 
that too.  Acting like a baby seemed to be all he was good for at 
the moment.  He scrubbed his face into the pillow trying to hide 
how he was feeling.

Scully settled on the floor beside him and stroked, her hand 
running down his hair, his side, his back, saying nothing.  She 
seemed to sense that he needed contact but he needed space as 
well.  Content it seemed to Mulder to stay with him forever.  
How could he possibly do something so stupid as to break that 
spell?

Oh god he had to.

He must have tensed because she looked up, expectant, waiting.  
Maybe, he thought, maybe she has already guessed.  He 
swallowed, then cleared his throat.  'Um Scully.  Don't get mad 
at me.  Please don't get mad.'

'What is it Mulder?'

He hesitated, not sure how to put it.

'What?'  Her blue eyes were searching the depths his.  'What is 
so bad?  Is it what made you sick?'

So she'd figured that getting sick had nothing to do with 
chickenpox.  He had to say it.  'Scully, the murder.  Fuck!'  He 
just blurted it out.  'Are there any body parts missing?'

'What?  I don't know, it's a bit hard to tell.' Mulder could see

she was thinking it through.  'Do you think...'

'Where did the meat come from?' he asked quietly.

She blanched.  'I never saw it.  She brought it all with her.'

He nodded at the plate and swallowed hard, squeamish again.  
'Get it tested.  Please.'

'Mulder, that's a dreadful thing to say.'

'I know Scully, I know.  But don't you see what is so odd about 
this case.'

'What?'

'No one seems to care.'

She looked at him like he was demented.

'Scully don't you get it.  It's a horrible, horrible crime.  
Wouldn't normal people be raising the roof looking for a killer?  
Shouldn't they be afraid to sleep at night?  Wouldn't they at 
least be worrying about the reputation of the town?  Aren't 
people usually queuing up to give us little details that "might be 
important"?  It's Sherlock Holmes' dog that didn't bark Scully. 

No one here seems to care.'

'Alright Mulder,' she said in that tone of voice he knew so well.  
Obviously he had the word DELERIUM stamped across his 
forehead again.  'If that is the case, who did it and why?  And,' 
she added triumphantly, 'Why did they call in the authorities in 
the first place?'

'I don't know,' he said tiredly.  'Just none of this feels
right.'

'Mulder face it.  You just don't feel right, right now.'  But she 
did seem to be thinking.  They sat quietly for a while.  Mulder 
was finally warming up but it was a mixed blessing.  The itch 
was coming back.  'Scully?'  This was really important.  
'You're not mad at me are you?'

She took his hand and held it against her cheek.  'No.'

'Be careful.  Please.'

'Sure Mulder.  Now what are we going to do about you?' and he 
could tell she'd rejected everything he'd said.

- - - -

Damn and screw you Fox Mulder!  Scully was seething.  Even 
with a temperature spiking at 104 he could still make her 
believe in his  bizarre imaginings, at least enough to make her 
mistrust her own observations.  Scully wanted to be friends with 
Shareen.  She liked being friends with Shareen.  Mulder's 
hypothesis had to have come from fever mixed with jealousy.  
Even so, Scully felt uneasy.

Scully had left Mulder as okay as she could manage.   He was 
back in bed following another bath, more tylenol and a glass of 
lucozade.  He was so exhausted he could barely move.  Scully 
had tucked him into clean sheets and held his hand while he 
very quickly went to sleep.

Shareen was incredulous that Scully was considering leaving 
him alone.

'He's exhausted. He promised he would stay in bed,' Scully 
insisted.

'Even if chased by killer cockroaches?'

'Yes even then.'  Shareen couldn't be a killer, let alone a 
cannibal.  She was just the sort of person Scully enjoyed being 
with.  And yet there were lots of questions with no answers.  
With all the "circumstances beyond anyone's control" this case 
was one of the most frustrating she had worked recently.

Shareen left Scully alone to talk to the coroner via video link.  
Scully wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved.  Damn 
Mulder's suspicions.

The picture quality on the video wasn't good, and the coroner 
wasn't a very good camera operator, but Scully got the idea.  
After introducing themselves, Dan the coroner turned the 
camera to pan around the morgue.  There were three mortuary 
tables covered with what looked like the leftovers from a 
butcher's shop.  On two tables were the painstakingly put 
together pieces of two bodies, by far the largest pile on the 
central table were the bits as yet unaccounted for.  'We may 
have to rely on tissue typing for the most of it,' Dan said.

His assistant looked up from where he was turning a lump of rib 
bones over in his hands.  He eyeballed the camera and waved.  
Scully winced.

'So what exactly do you know?' she asked.

The camera panned around to one table.  'This is Christopher 
Polech.  Well at least it's his head,' the camera dipped to show a 
gold tooth, 'and his femur which has a pin in it.'  He started to 
move on.  Scully could see the technician try to fit the piece he 
held with the half built ribcage already on the table.  It 
obviously didn't fit because he moved out of shot, presumably 
to try it against the other body.

Scully's eye caught something.  'Dan,' she stopped the camera 
man.  'Show me that leg again.  Just run down it slowly.'  She 
let her breath out in a hiss.  'Has that muscle been filleted?'

'Well funny you should say that because I was thinking that 
meself.'  He moved the camera back to the top of the leg.  The 
bone had been severed just below the joint but the muscle 
looked to have been deliberately sliced off.  'Just there,' he said.
 
'Right?'

'Right.'

'Dan have you got enough remains there for two bodies?'

'I don't know Agent Scully.  It's a bit too early to tell.'

Jesus Scully thought.  What sort of Mickey Mouse shop are you 
running?  Surely they would have weighed the remains as one 
of their first tasks.  Another thought struck her.  Christopher.  
'Dan tell me the victims names again.'

'Ah, Christopher and Gavin Polech.  Brothers from Miami.'

'Brothers?'

'Yeah what?'

'Nothing.  It's alright.'  Odd.  Shareen had led her to believe 
they were a married couple.  Or had she?  Had she just 
assumed?   She'd come back to that thought.  She didn't want to 
think about it right now.  'Dan, you know anything about their 
weight and build?  Can you get all this stuff weighed, that way 
we'll be able to tell if anything is missing.'

'You think there is?'

'Yes Dan.  I think there is.'  Oh shit.

Men.  Not a man and a woman.  The victims were men.   "She 
doesn't like men," Mulder had said.  Men.  Was that the key?

Scully didn't know when Shareen would be back and for the 
time being she was quite pleased that she wasn't around. She 
thanked Dan for his time and wandered out into the street to get 
some air.  The air up in the mountains was pristine!  Well 
maybe not quite.  There was just the hint of wood smoke, 
evocative and soothing in the air.  The town was beautiful with 
its blanket of snow over the buildings and on the trees behind.  
At last the sun was starting to come through and the mountains 
showed in stark relief against the sky.

The road and side walks had been cleared so Scully walked up 
to the General Store to buy some things for the next few days.  
Under the circumstances it wouldn't hurt to buy their own 
provisions.  The girl in the store was chatty enough.  
Disconcertingly she not only knew who Scully was but seemed 
to know all about Mulder's chickenpox too.  She was full of 
advice.  Scully felt like she had fallen into some 50's small 
village time warp.  

Next she went to the pharmacy to get more pine tar lotion.  The 
woman there knew about the cockroaches.  Apparently Mrs 
Murphy had a mouth on her then.  Everyone was so pleasant 
and concerned.  Maybe small towns really were like this but it 
felt unnatural.  Scully swore.  Damn it Mulder.  You're making 
me paranoid.  The whole town couldn't be in on it could they?  
But Mulder was right.  Why weren't they making more than the 
most basic references to the murder?

She was nearly back at the deputy's office when Shareen's truck 
pulled up alongside her.  'Hi there,' she said.  'I think I'm 
finished for the day.  How 'bout you?'

'I think so, yes.  This is frustrating.'

'Fancy a drink?'

'No.' Actually she did but now she had to treat her as a suspect.  
'I'd better get back.'

'Okay.  I'll run you up now.'  She was friendly, obliging.  
'You'll be able to get up to Chippewa tomorrow.  You'll be able 
to meet Dan the Man in person. That'll be a treat for you.'  She 
chattered away all the way to the lodge.

Man.  There was something about men that was on the tip of 
Scully's tongue, but I just couldn't bring it out.  Men.


- - - - 
She opened the lodge door and hesitated.  It was cold.  The door 
to the terrace was open and surely she'd closed it after they 
came inside.  Puzzled Scully was sure she had.  A dreadful fear 
filled her belly.  She drew her gun, her throat dry.  'Mulder?'  
She looked at the open door.  There were footprints in the snow 
below the steps.

'Mulder?' She knew before she'd even started to climb the 
stairs that he wouldn't be in his bed.  She could feel the house 
was empty.  He wasn't there.

He wasn't there.  The bed was cold, his things were strewn 
around the room, everything looked just the same as before but 
he wasn't there.  Her heart stopped and she screamed.  
'Mulder!'

And Shareen burst through the door, her gun at the ready.

'Dana?  What's wrong?'  She took in the scene.  'Where is he?'
 
She holstered her gun.

'I don't know.  He's just gone.'

'The door's open downstairs.  Has he gone for a walk?'

'He wouldn't.  He couldn't.'

'Have you checked the rest of the house?'

Scully shook her head.  

'You look upstairs, I'll take down.'

He wasn't there.  She knew he wasn't.  They met on the stairs 
and something pinged in Scully's mind.  'Shareen, what are you 
doing here?'

'You left your groceries in the car.'  She was all business.  
'What was he wearing?'

'Um.'  Scully struggled to think.  'Tee shirt and shorts.'

'Could he have got dressed?'

Scully froze.

'Dana.  Get a grip.  The sun's going down, it will get very cold 
soon.  Go and look at his clothes and see if he got dressed.'

As far as she could tell his clothes were all there.  He usually 
only brought one set of casual clothes on assignment.  Jeans, 
track pants, pyjama pants, Scully catalogued.  Suits... everything 
seemed to be either in the bag, the closet or spread over the 
floor.  Shareen stood at the door.  Scully shook her head.

'The footsteps outside lead out into the forest.  Dana,' Shareen 
looked at her sadly.  'I'm fairly sure he hasn't got shoes on.'

'I know.'  Scully tried to pull myself together. She pointed to 
the floor where both shoes and trainers could be seen.   'God, 
what was happening in his head to make him run out like that?'

'Dana.'  Shareen shook her.  'Dana, how long?  Come on, 
you're the doctor.  How long have we got to find him.'  She had 
her phone out, was dialling a number.

'I don't know,' she whispered.  'He was pretty sick.  It might 
already be too late.'

 - - - - -

Mulder came roaring out of a dream filled sleep to a confused 
and frightening reality.  He knew instantly what was happening 
and cursed himself for not being prepared but by the time he 
surfaced his hands and feet were already cuffed.  Even if his gun 
had been under his pillow he probably wouldn't have got to it in 
time.  His screams were cut off as something was forced into his 
mouth.  He struggled and choked as the gag hit the back of his 
throat and realised with pure terror that his blocked nose would 
barely let him breathe!

He fought.  He wasn't going to go easily.  Using his tongue to 
try and move the gag forward in his mouth he was able to keep 
from choking.  Some air came through his nose and as long as 
he kept breathing he was going to struggle.  He wasn't going to 
make it easy for them.  They didn't bother with a blindfold.  It 
didn't matter.  He knew before he was even awake who had 
come for him.

Halfway down the stairs he managed to heave out of their arms.  
It wasn't a victory because he crashed head first to the bottom.  
Shareen gave up trying to be nice then.  She just grabbed the 
cuffs around his ankles and dragged him towards the door.  Pain 
ricocheted through him.  He was stunned, choking.  He had no 
fight left.  The world was swimming.

'Aw for chrissake.  He's bleeding,' he heard her say.  'Make 
sure you wipe that up'

So much for leaving a fucking trail he thought ...  He passed out.



He came to again in the back of the truck as it bounced up what 
was obviously a rough track.  There was an argument going on 
in the front.  'For chrissake Mam,' Shareen was saying.  'You 
can't use him, he's infectious.'

No one, it appeared was going to know.

For a time all Mulder could concentrate on was breathing.  He 
was barely getting any air.  Scully. Her name rumbled through 
his head like a charm.  Help me!  He explored the gag with his 
tongue, feeling it and testing his ability to breathe.  He decided 
it was a sock, held in place by tape on the outside. No air came 
around it.  Left to itself it fell against the back of his throat 
choking him.  He had to constantly work to keep it forward.  He 
contemplated trying to swallow it but vetoed the idea 
concentrating instead on holding it forward and forcing air 
through his swollen nose.  Just breathe Fox, just breathe.

Scully, I need you!

He couldn't breathe.  His mind came and went.  He couldn't 
breathe.  By the time he was dumped in a hole under a barn he 
had pretty much solved the crime.  It wasn't going to do him 
any good.  He was going to be next.

He was sick, the bile shooting up his throat and out his nose. For 
the first time he was grateful for his earlier vomiting attack.  His 
stomach was empty and if it hadn't been he would have died.  
Desperately, desperately he swallowed, holding it down, trying 
to breathe.  No, please god, don't let me die like this.  Breathe.  
I'm panicking Scully.  I'm making that face.  Breathe.  Don't let 
me die.

- - - -

Men.  There were hoards of great big solid men.  They filled the 
house to overflowing.  Men, the first shift of the Chippewa 
Search and Rescue team, back with no news, no sightings, no 
clues.  The footprints disappeared into the river 50 yards 
downstream, then there was nothing.

Shareen moved to whisper to the leader but Scully knew what 
they were saying, it was 10pm and below freezing outside, it 
didn't take rocket science to work it out.

Solicitously Captain McCall came over.  Everyone was treating 
Scully with the gentleness reserved for victims of tragedy and it 
was starting to annoy her.  She had to admit though, somehow 
she had fallen into that role. Setting down a cup of long cold 
coffee she gave herself a mental shake and stood up to greet 
him.  'Agent Scully.  How are you bearing up?'  Obviously she 
wasn't expected to answer that.  'I've just learnt that the Denver

Avalanche team will be here first thing.  With their dogs,' he 
explained.

She nodded, trying to think of something to say but her mind 
seemed stuffed with cotton wool.  The Captain gave her a 
pitying smile and patted her hand.  He was a nice man Scully 
thought through her fear.  A nice man.  Shit, the first man she'd 
seen since she'd been in Wood Creek.  Shit!  Men!  She jerked 
and crashed back into the coffee table.  The cup and contents 
splashed to the floor.

Everyone jumped to help but Scully waved them off.  'Its 
alright.'  She was flustered.  Thoughts were fighting to form and 
she looked at the puddle of coffee suspiciously.  She needed 
space to think.  'It's okay.  
I'll clean it.'  

Fleeing to the kitchen Scully started to see what had been 
nagging her all day.  She had not seen any men in Wood Creek, 
not today, not yesterday, not the day before. No men except 
Mulder.   Oh god no! 

Suddenly she saw the connections she had been missing.  
Running on auto pilot she reached for the dishcloth.  It was dry 
so she started to wet it, then wrenched it out from under the 
water and stared at it.  It was covered in blood.  Oh lord it was 
true.  Her stomach heaved but instinct took over.  Shoving it in 
her pocket she tried to force her bleary mind to work.  She had 
no doubt now that there had been something added to her coffee 
to keep her quiet.  But thankfully she hadn't drunk more than a 
third.  Stay cool Dana, she told herself.  Play it out.

Returning to the lounge she found Shareen.  It took tremendous 
control to keep her posture dejected and her face neutral.  'I'm 
going to lie down for a bit,' she managed to say.  She imagined 
she saw relief on the Deputy's face.  Waving off her looks of 
pity and offers of help Scully fled upstairs.

She made it to Mulder's bed, locking the doors behind her 
before her legs gave out.  Her heart was thudding in her chest 
and shudders ran through her as she stared at the dishcloth.  She 
had cleared up after breakfast, with this cloth. Following that 
she was sure she had left it clean, draped over the taps to dry.  
She had never gotten around to cleaning up the ill-fated lunch.  
It had been forgotten after Mulder's vomiting as she 
concentrated on cleaning him up and getting him back to bed.  It 
wasn't inconceivable but she didn't think any one had injured 
themselves in even a minor way since then.  So instinct, yes 
Mulder, and logic, told her whose blood it had to be.

Slowly she calmed and her investigative instincts came back.  
What was wrong with this room?  It was untidy, but Mulder's 
space always was.  The bed.  The bed looked slept in but that 
was all, not tossed and turned in.  It wasn't the way this bed had 
looked every other time he had been out of it recently.  The bed 
was too tidy.  It had been tidied then made to look slept in.  He 
had been taken. It would have been conclusive but Scully 
already knew.

Scully swallowed as visions of the Polech brothers' remains 
swam in front of her eyes.  Men.  She shuddered.  God damn 
Mulder.  You were right.  My man, she thought.  Mulder.  
Where was he?  What had they done to him? God, she began 
pacing.  What could she do?  She lent her head against the cold 
window.  I'm coming Mulder.  She tried to send her thoughts.  
Hold on, I'm coming.

- - - -

Death was back.  Mulder could feel the black wings wrapped 
around him again.  They were so soft and so cold.  He reached 
out to the only talisman he had. <I am tired Scully but I know 
you're coming. It is so hard to breathe.  I'm trying so hard.  I'm

so cold.  Please Scully, come soon.>

- - - -
Pulling herself together Scully started planning.  Her mind was 
now working with startling clarity. She was good like this, good 
in a crisis. She swept her eyes around the room a plan already 
formed.  There were a few things here she needed.  Where were 
they?  Where would he have put them?  The usual place?

Scully opened the top drawer of the bedside cabinet.  Yes, thank 
god. They hadn't taken it.  But they couldn't have could they if 
they wanted it to look as if he wandered off. She put the gun in 
her pocket then searched the rest of the drawers.  In amongst 
some revolting handkerchiefs she found the other thing she was 
looking for, Mulder's pocket knife.

Scully moved quietly back across the hall to her own room as 
she worked out the details.  So much unfortunately would have 
to rely on chance.  She changed her clothes, putting two pairs of 
tights on under her trousers, a tee shirt of Mulder's under her 
warmest shirt with a woollen sweater on top.

Sitting on the bed she used nail scissors to open a careful hole in 
the lining of her coat.  Wrapping the weapon in a hanky so that 
it wouldn't clank she dropped it and the pocket knife in the hole 
and settled them in opposite corners of the hem. She tried the 
coat on and it seemed to hang alright, or not noticeably 
differently.  She turned around and around in front of the mirror.  
It was okay.  

Next she unplugged her phone from where it had been 
recharging by the bed.  It had been there about five hours now.  
It should be fully charged by now.  She just wasn't sure how 
long it would last.

Nearly ready.  She checked her own gun, went to the bathroom 
and had a large drink of water.  Then she put her coat on, drew 
breath and called Skinner.

When he answered his phone her boss was at the airport.  He 
was just about to get on the evening's last flight to Denver.  He 
sounded embarrassed about coming out but Scully was touched.  
She knew he thought a great deal of Mulder but it hadn't 
occurred to her that he would actually come out to Colorado 
when he was missing.  He had never done that before.  Mind 
you, Mulder had never wandered out into the snow while 
delirious with chickenpox before.  However that wasn't what 
had happened.  There wasn't time for that now.

Scully started explaining the situation as it now stood, both her 
suspicions and her concerns for Mulder's safety.  She 
concentrated on giving a clear, concise report.  She needed the 
AD to believe her now.

Bless him, he did.  Before she'd even finished the telling he was 
ordering someone in the background to use another phone and 
get on to the station chief in Denver, to cancel his ticket and get 
him a jet chartered NOW.  The boss was on his way.  Scully 
sagged slightly with relief.

Then she told him what she planned to do.  He didn't like that at 
all.



Back downstairs Scully searched for Shareen. She worked hard 
on looking woebegone, slumping her shoulders and dropping 
her head.  The house was full of men again.  Another search 
party had come back.  Captain McCall spotted her and came 
over.

'Agent Scully, I'm afraid there is very little we can do now until 
morning.  We've just called the search off for the night, we'll 
resume again at first light.'  He took her hand. 'I'm very
sorry.'

'Thank you,' Scully mumbled.  She daren't say any more.  

And then Shareen was there, her arm around her shoulder.  'Hi,' 
she said in a voice dripping with concern.  'Couldn't sleep, I'm 
not surprised.  Do you want coffee?'

'No,' the catch in Scully's voice was not feigned at all.  
'Shareen, could you show me where...  where the footprints go?  
Where he went.  I need to see.'

'Of course.  Sure I will.  Just hang on will you, I'll get my
coat.'

Scully sat on the arm of the sofa and waited.  The men were 
leaving and Shareen farewelled them before coming over with 
her coat.  Her mother Scully noticed was no where in sight and 
she was sure she'd been there earlier.

They went down the steps from the terrace, Scully's eye caught 
by the vomit now frozen in the snow, and all it implied.  All the 
lights were on. It was as bright as day around the house but the 
woods were completely black.  It was crisply, fatally cold and 
she tried not to think of a warm body lying somewhere in the 
snow.  The actual footprints had long since disappeared under 
countless others and she cursed herself for not having examined 
them properly when she'd had the chance.  Too late now.

Shareen took her down below the house to the left and stopped 
on the riverbank.  She made a show of looking into the water, 
shining her torch around at the trees.  No sign of Mrs Murphy 
Scully noticed.  She couldn't wait any longer.

'Okay Shareen,' She shone the torch in her eyes, had her gun 
trained on her before she could move.  'Where is he?  What 
have you done with him?'

'What,' she blustered.  'What do you mean?  Dana you don't...'

'Cut the shit!'  Scully could hardly contain the anger that 
suddenly boiled through her.  'I thought you were my friend.  
Now - what - the  fuck - have you done - with - him?'  She 
advanced on her, the gun aimed at her forehead the whole way.

Shareen spread her arms wide, she was cool.  'Dana, I am your 
friend, but you're going to ruin it like this.'

'Drop your gun.'

Very carefully she pulled it from the holster and dropped it at 
her feet.

'That's better, now turn around and walk back to the cars.'  She 
turned.  'Slowly, keep you hands up, behind your head.'

'Okay.  Look Dana, you've got this all wrong.'

Scully ignored her.  'I'm going to ask you some questions 
Shareen, and you're going to answer.  Where is Mulder?'

'Aw come on?'

'Alright, let's try another one.  Are you gay?'

'What?'

'Are you a lesbian?'

'What if I am?'

'Yes or no?'  Scully was scanning the trees, the side of the 
building.  She couldn't see anyone.

'Yes.  Next question.'

'Which one of the Polech brothers did your mother serve up for 
dinner last night?'

'What?  You're joking right?'

'Let's try an easier one.  Is Mulder still alive?'

But she never heard the answer for the shadows moved.  She 
turned instinctively but  -  too late.  The blow caught her on the 
side of her head just behind her ear. The world roared with pain 
and she crashed into the snow.

She was only out for seconds.  Scully came to, fighting the 
nausea and the body that was kneeling on her neck.  She didn't 
stand a chance.  They tied her hands behind her back then 
Shareen yanked her to her feet. Scully's head was exploding and 
she nearly collapsed again, but Shareen had tight hold of her.  
Scully looked at her through eyes blinded by tears, not so much 
of pain as rage.

'Such a shame Dana,' Shareen said. 'You were too bloody 
clever.  I liked you too.'  Mrs Murphy cackled like a demented 
rooster.  If Scully could have spat she would have.



The truck ride was shorter than Scully was expecting.  She 
estimated they turned off the main road on to a rough track only 
a couple of miles out of town.  The truck bounced, throwing her 
around in the back with no way to anchor herself.  She tried to 
pillow her sore head on her shoulder but could do nothing save 
herself from crashing onto the hard floor every few seconds.  
She distracted herself by listening to Shareen and her mom 
arguing in the front about how they were going to stage her 
disappearance.  It did nothing to cheer her up.  It seemed that 
she would be overcome by grief and take to her bed.  The search 
teams would be moved back into town.  That would give the 
culprits at least twenty four hours before anyone became 
suspicious.  

Oh yeah, Scully thought.  But then the next thing she heard 
made her blood run cold. The kill would have to take place 
before dawn so that the searchers wouldn't notice everyone 
moving around.

Everyone?  Who was everyone?

Mrs Murphy suggested that they left the others out, but Shareen 
didn't like that idea.  It was what held it all together she said.  
Their all being present and all taking part.  They talked so 
matter of factly that Scully had trouble believing they were 
talking about murder. Then came the worst bit...  Mrs Murphy 
would have to pack the meat alone.  Shareen couldn't afford 
anyone else to be out of sight, not as she said, since the place 
would be crawling with FBI by lunch time.

Scully's brain refused to believe what she'd heard.  Horror, fear 
and her head injury combined and she was sick.  Part of her was 
pleased about that.  By the time they stopped she'd made an 
awful mess of the back of Shareen's truck.

Hauling Scully out of the back of the vehicle Shareen seemed to 
have lost all humanity.  Scully had trouble keeping on her feet.  
Her head spun and she fought for control, determined not to 
collapse.  She needed her wits and she needed as much 
information as she could gather.  Unfortunately it wasn't much.  
The night was dark as a coal mine with the barest hint of trees 
surrounding them.  A building loomed in front of her and she 
was being dragged towards it.  Her foot caught on something 
and she stumbled before Shareen jerked her upright.  She bit her 
lip, using the sharp pain to keep the focus from the pain in her 
head.

Mrs Murphy was opening the door to what proved to be a 
tumble down barn.  Shareen gave Scully a shove and she 
stumbled across the threshold.  'Before dawn then Shareen?'  
Her voice was hoarse and she had to clear her throat.  'That's 
how long I've got?'

'Yep.'  Shareen didn't seem to be in the mood to talk.

'And then what?  Meat packs, is that right?'

'Yep.  Expensive meat.'

'And that's what it's all about?'

Shareen gave a truly evil laugh and shoved her captive into the 
darkness.  'Partly.  Only partly.'

It was totally dark in the barn, all except for where Mrs Murphy 
was crouched on the floor pulling at something by torchlight.  
Shareen pushed Scully again and she stumbled forwards.  And 
then she fell.  Down.

She screamed.  

She fell forever, or no time at all, the fall of nightmares.  Then 
she landed, awkward, hard, on something yielding.  Something 
she instantly recognised as a body even as a white hot pain shot 
from her ankle to every nerve ending in her body.  
'MULDER!!'

Sobbing with pain she desperately tried to nudge him into life 
but there was no response.  She was too late.  'NO!'

A torch beam suddenly shot down the pit, showing the sheer 
walls about ten feet high and the pitiful crumpled figure Scully 
had landed on.  'Dana,' Shareen's voice asked.  'Do you love 
him?'

'What?'  The pain was making her stupid.  

'Do you love him?'

Scully looked up but couldn't see the person behind the light.  
'Yes.'  Question asked and answered.  Of course she did.  There 
had never been any question of that.

'Thought so,' Shareen snorted in disgust.  'Guess what,' she 
didn't wait for an answer.  'You'll be our first woman.  You've 
got till dawn.'  She stood then something heavy crashed over 
the top of the pit.  The darkness was complete and for the 
shortest moment Scully gave in to despair.  She shut her eyes 
and let out a moan of absolute pain.  She was desolate, a great 
emptiness roaring through her.  Her body shook and she 
collapsed across Mulder's body.  He was so cold, so still.  'No, 
oh no.  No, please Mulder, no.'

Oh Christ.  Her heart nearly stopped.  She froze, her head on his 
chest.  At first she didn't dare believe it.  There under her ear, 
faint and erratic, his heart was still beating.  'Oh Jesus.  Oh 
Jesus thank you.'  

Now she had to work out how to help him.  She had to calm 
herself. Some deep breaths forced her own heart to calm.  She 
wriggled to a better position and listened to his chest, awkward, 
her hands behind her back.  There were hardly any breath 
sounds.  His breathing was terribly shallow.  Then she 
remembered what she'd seen in the torch light.  A gag.  He was 
slowly suffocating.  

She had to turn her back to reach it with her hands.  The way 
her hands were tied made it awkward to get hold of the edge of 
the tape.  Her fingernail scratched at his cold skin until she 
wriggled a corner free and got a finger under the tape.  Then she 
could rip it off.  She groped blindly until she had whatever was 
in his mouth and yanked it out.  It was slimy and smelt.  He 
gagged and gasped and started to choke.

Oh Christ. With her back to him she reached for his shoulder, 
taking a handful of his tee shirt and wrenching him over onto 
his side.  It was enough.  Thank god, it was enough.  He 
coughed weakly, gasped and continued to breathe.  Scully burst 
into tears.  

She took a minute, adrenaline was running out fast and she was 
aware how badly she hurt.  Her head wasn't so bad any more 
but she was bruised all over and her ankle was a white hot pain 
that flared at the slightest movement.  She didn't have the 
luxury of giving in to any of it.  Mulder didn't have the luxury.  
She sniffed and still crying set about getting herself free.  

It was a struggle.  She didn't need situations like this to remind 
her that she wasn't as flexible as she used to be.  It took a lot of 
wriggling and a far amount of pain from her damaged ankle but 
she eventually managed to get her hands underneath her bottom 
then down her legs.  The next bit was excruciating and she had 
to steel herself to do it.  She wasn't sure she could do it but a 
quick check of her ear to Mulder's chest convinced her to try.  
Taking a big breath she wrenched her ankles between her wrists 
and brought her hands to the front.  

Inspite of herself she screamed.  Nausea grabbed her and it took 
her long seconds to recover, her body shaking and chilled.  She 
just hoped Mulder, in whichever place he was in, hadn't heard 
her scream.   

Once she had control again then it was relatively simple to get 
the knife.  She said a little prayer of thanks that they hadn't 
thought to search her.  Cutting the rope was harder.  She could 
open the knife but she couldn't hold it and move it against the 
rope.  The thought of dropping it on the uneven floor in the dark 
wasn't pleasant either.  In the end she held it in her mouth, 
desperately sawing the cord against the blade until it parted.

Then finally she could see to Mulder.

It didn't take long to realise that she wasn't going to be able to 
free him from his bonds.  He was handcuffed tightly, wrist and 
ankles.  And he had been cuffed by a professional, someone 
who knew to lock the cuffs with the key so they couldn't be 
knocked free.  

It took even less time to realise that he was gravely ill.  How 
long until dawn?  She estimated the time at about 1 am, she still 
had no watch.  He wasn't going to make it.

Mulder's lungs were full of fluid.  He was barely getting any air 
to the tiny aveoli where gas exchange occurred.  Scully guessed 
he must have been taken pretty much straight after Shareen had 
left her in her office in the afternoon.  That was about 2.30.  
That meant that he'd been gagged, barely breathing since then 
and it had taken a terrible toll on him.  His lungs, already 
congested from illness hadn't been able to cope.  He had been 
unable to take a deep breath or cough for 11 hours.  Fluid had 
collected which he couldn't clear.  Oxygen depletion would 
have affected all his organs.  She had no way of telling how 
badly this had happened, but he was deeply unconscious and 
that gave her a clue.  It was a very bad sign.

She took her coat off and wrapped it around him, tucking it 
underneath in an effort to insulate him from the icy dirt floor.  
He was cold now, exposure to cold and lack of oxygen to fuel 
his metabolism cancelling out the fever.  She sat down then, 
behind him, lifting his dead weight up against her chest.  She 
pillowed his head on her left shoulder and hugged him tight.  
'Keep breathing Mulder, keep fighting.'  

He seemed so much smaller than she remembered, so very 
fragile as she wrapped her body around his.  Oh god she 
couldn't go through this again.  She couldn't loose him now.  
Not after everything they had been through.  This was the end 
this time.   Whatever happened tonight this was never going to 
happen again.  She argued with him, crooned to him, shared her 
warmth, and her breath, and her heart.

- - - -

Deputy Director Skinner had spent one of the worst nights of his 
life.  He had heard Agent Scully attacked, heard her scream in 
fear and pain.  He had heard her agony as she thought her 
partner dead, and for the last two hours he had heard her share 
her most secret thoughts with her unconscious partner as she 
struggled to keep him alive.

Now at last he had something to tell her.

'Scully,' he said into the phone.  'Agent Scully.  It's AD 
Skinner.  Can you hear me?'

- - - -

'Scully,' a voice said in the silence.  

Scully started out of a doze.

'Agent Scully.  It's AD Skinner.'

The phone!

'Can you hear me.'

'Hold on sir.  Hang on.'  She had to untangle herself from 
Mulder and then find her way into the coat lining.  Finally she 
found it.

'Can you hear me?  Scully?  Hello.'

'Yes sir, I'm here.'  Her heart was pounding and her ankle was 
protesting at the sudden movement.

'Good.'  He didn't wait for preliminaries or "how are you"s. 
After all he knew since he'd been listening since Scully began 
the call in the bedroom 2 hours ago.  'The assault team is 
assembled.  They can be with you in 15 minutes.'

Scully sagged in relief.  'Thank God.'

'We've got a doctor and intensive care team standing by.  
They'll have him in Denver in less than an hour.'

'Ssir.'  Scully stopped him.  'How long till dawn?'

'About another four hours.'

'Sir.  We catch the bad guys right?'

'That's not always the most important thing Agent Scully.'

'I know sir, but what if we can do both.'

- - - -

Mulder woke slowly.  It was like dragging himself from a warm 
heavy puddle, slowly surfacing, reaching for the light.  There 
were quiet voices, hands lifting him, his body heavy and quite 
limp.

His eyes eased open and he couldn't fathom what he was 
looking at.  A fuzzy view of what seemed to be an abundant 
cleavage between two large chocolate coloured breasts floated 
in front of him.  Heaven, he mused, surely not.  He whimpered.  
The next thing two lively dark eyes were smiling at him and 
things came into focus.  A nurse, it was a nurse bending down, 
her arms under his body.  'Hello there,' she whispered.  'Just lie

quiet honey.  We're just turning you over.  Shh,' as he tried to 
speak.  'We don't want to wake your friend.'

Turn him over they did.  Quietly and efficiently they moved 
him, bits of tubing and numerous pillows.  One minute he was 
facing one way, the next minute the other and it made him 
dizzy.  When he opened his eyes again it was to see the 
concerned eyes of the dark nurse in front of him.  His vision 
expanded to show a fairly typical hospital room.  'How are you 
doing sweet?'  She stroked his hair.  Tucked tubes back up his 
nose.

Mulder didn't know how he was doing.  His mind seemed to 
have lost the ability to process more than the most basic things.  
Mainly he could see and hear and remember to breathe but he 
couldn't fathom how to reply.  He bit at his dry lips and she 
brought some water and a straw.  He barely had the strength to 
suck, could hardly remember how.  The nurse moved to put the 
glass down and behind her Mulder saw Scully.  She was curled, 
sound asleep in a battered recliner armchair, a blanket pulled up 
to her throat.  He'd never seen anything so beautiful.

'Scully.'  Her name was an automatic reflex.  His voice barely 
stirred the air.  His throat constricted and his eyes filled with 
tears.

'Hey sugar?' the nurse wiped his eyes.

'I thought she was dead.'  

'No sweet, she's not dead.  She's not left your side since the 
morning you got here.  You're a lucky man.'

His brain tried to work.  'How long?'

'Four days now.  You were very ill.'  She motioned towards 
Scully.  'Dana here has done all your cares that we'd let her.  
She'll be cross that we didn't wake her to help do the turn, but 
she's not slept much lately.'

'Scully.'

'Okay there.  You want I should wake her to say hello?  I don't 
think she'd mind.'

He shook his head an infinitesimal amount.  'No.' More tears 
were flowing and he couldn't stop them.  Scully looked 
beautiful.  He could gaze at her forever.  Why had he thought 
she were dead?  He couldn't remember now.  What had he done 
to deserve her devotion?  He didn't know that either.  'Let her 
sleep.'  He couldn't bear the thought of waking her up.


- - - - - - -
The next time he awoke, it was to the awareness that someone 
was holding his hand. 

'Scully.'  

But when he opened his eyes he found himself looking into the 
concerned and slightly embarrassed eyes of not Scully but 
Walter Skinner.

He was facing the other way again.  He'd obviously slept 
through that "turn" and wondered vaguely if Scully had helped.  
It was full daylight.
  
'Agent Mulder?'

Mulder looked past him.  'Scully.  Where's Scully?'  His voice 
came out as a barely audible croak.  Skinner seemed to know 
what he said.

'She's fine Mulder.  They brought in Shareen Frost this 
morning.  I told her to go, I'd sit with you.'

A suspicion entered his brain.  'Do I need sitting with?' 

Skinner grinned.  'No.  But it makes Scully feel better.'

Mulder smiled but his tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth.  
His teeth were thick with goo.  He grimaced.

Skinner saw.  'Water?'

Reluctantly he nodded.  His boss filled a cup and held the straw 
to his mouth.  He sucked thirstily drinking it all.  It was 
exhausting.  Lying back on the pillows he closed his eyes for a 
moment.  His brain was working enough to be uncomfortable 
with his boss seeing him this weak.  He opened his eyes and 
noticed the scabs and bruising on his wrists.  The handcuffs had 
been very tight then.  He realised he could remember something 
of what had happened but he wanted to know more.  'Tell me 
what happened.' 

'I don't want to tire you.'

'Dammit Sir.  I'm already tired.  Just tell me.'

'Mulder you only just got off the critical list last night.'

That was interesting news.  He thought he'd recognised the sore 
throat that indicated he'd been intubated not long ago.  Mind 
you he'd had a sore throat before he was kidnapped.  Still his 
boss had just given him some leverage.  'So you don't want me 
getting upset.  Tell me.'

Walter Skinner knew all about this agent's stubbornness.  He 
also recognised that Mulder was going to wind himself up until 
someone told him what happened.  Damn.  He really needed 
Scully here to keep him under control.   

'Please sir.  What happened?  I need to know.'

Walter Skinner made a strange grunting noise in the back of his 
throat.  He was in a no win situation.  So he told him.  He told 
him how he'd disappeared, supposedly lost, delirious in the 
forest.  Mulder nodded, he hadn't known how they'd covered 
his disappearance.  Then the AD told him about Scully's phone 
call and how she had convinced him that he'd actually been 
abducted.  Scully was convinced that Mulder was about to be 
killed in a nasty manner, if it hadn't happened already.

He didn't want to say it so Mulder filled in the space.  'I was 
supposed to have been carved up and sent all around the country 
as meat packs.'  He ignored his boss' uncomfortable look.  'I 
heard them talking.'

Skinner swallowed and nodded.  'It looks like they had a 
thriving mail order business.  They took orders for "types" of 
meat.'  He still couldn't really believe that fact and yet the 
discovery of meticulous records proved it all.  'Mulder, they had 
an order for "FBI".'  His voice raised in horror.  He held up his 
fingers to show a pinch of air.  'You were that close.'

Mulder closed his eyes and fought to swallow the bile rising in 
his throat.  This wasn't easy to hear. A comforting touch on his 
hand surprised him and brought him back to the present.  
Skinner was holding his hand.

'I'm okay.'  He opened his eyes.  Now they'd got this far he 
wanted to know it all.  'So what about the Polech's, the ones in 
the motel?'

'Complicated.  We think they had heard of the...,' Skinner 
couldn't think of the word, '...arrangement, and had come to 
see.  Maybe they wanted to get involved.  They weren't very 
nice guys.  Their records are pretty nasty.'

'But they wouldn't have stood a chance of being let in on it.'  
Mulder's voice was fading.

'That's right, mainly because they were men.'  Skinner glanced 
at him in concern.  Mulder had started out quite perky but was 
now looking grey with exhaustion.  He needed to wind this up.  
He smiled grimly.  'So they ended up in pieces.'

Mulder took a deep breath. Scully had eaten some of them for 
dinner, shit possibly two dinners.  His hand flew to his mouth.  
Oh No.  Shit.  Just like it had days ago when he tried the 
casserole his stomach rolled.  He could feel the meat in his 
mouth.  He heaved.  Fluid spilled down the pillow as most of 
the water he'd just drunk came back.  He didn't have the 
strength to move out of the mess.  

'Mulder!'  Skinner was reaching for the call button but Mulder 
grabbed his hand and stopped him.  The retching slowed, it 
wasn't too bad.  It was lucky he'd not eaten anything yet. He 
kept his grip on his boss' arm as he recovered, if the nurse came 
there would be no end of fussing and he would never get to the 
end of the story.  His eyes were closed and he felt slightly faint 
but he was getting himself under control. Deep breaths helped.  

He felt Skinner wipe his face with a cloth and then ineffectually 
dab at the damp spot on the pillow.  It was useless.  'Lift your 
head.'  He slid the pillow out and replaced it with one off 
Scully's chair.  Mulder nodded his thanks. He hated this.

'Mulder you should rest.'

They hazel eyes opened.  'They were bait weren't they.'

Skinner groaned.  'Yes okay.  Yes the Polechs were bait.  Bait 
for us, for you.  For the FBI'

'Well you'd better tell me the rest now.'

'What rest?'

'How Scully found me.'

He didn't want to.  Mulder was fairly sure his boss was feeling 
guilty about something.  He had a feeling he wasn't going to 
like what he had to say but he wanted to hear it anyway.

 'She phoned you,' he prompted.

'Yes.  She had this wild plan...' He took a deep breath and 
plunged into the telling.  Scully Mulder was told had set out to 
get herself captured.  Jesus Christ, he closed his eyes in pain.  
Only Scully...  Skinner fumbled on quickly.  He hadn't been 
happy about it but it had seemed the only way to get to where 
Mulder was being held with any certainty.  She was fairly sure 
that Shareen would never take her there, even if threatened.  She 
had a good idea by then of how much Shareen had to loose.  But 
she hadn't done it completely alone.  She had phoned Skinner 
and they had left the phone line between them open and the 
phone in the lining of her coat.  It had been possible to track her 
through the satellite.  Plus, Skinner said, and Mulder wondered 
at the strange look on his face, he had been able to hear 
everything that was going on.  They had known the phone 
battery would last long enough to get a fix but it had actually 
stayed working long enough to let her know when the assault 
team was ready to come to the rescue.

Mulder knew there was an awful lot he wasn't being told but 
fatigue was setting in.  It would be easier to get it from Scully 
later than prise it out of the boss now.  His eyes were drooping 
and he didn't even have the energy to feel angry at Skinner for 
letting her do it or mad at Scully for giving him no choice. 
Scully had done it for him and that made his insides crawl.

Skinner was continuing his story.  It hadn't taken long to get a 
fix on Scully's phone and work out where they were being held.  
They had that information before he had even landed in Denver.  
What took the time was assembling the assault and medical 
teams and getting them into place.  Scully's original plan had 
been for then to hold off until Shareen and crew came to kill 
them off and catch them red handed.  She was fairly sure there 
was more than just Shareen and her mother involved and she 
wanted them all.

However, Skinner said, Mulder had been too ill to leave any 
longer.  Mulder could tell from his boss' body language just 
how ill he must have been.  He remembered the feel of the gag 
in his mouth and shuddered.

So they had brought the rescue forward taking Mulder out but 
Scully insisted on staying.  Mulder lay there speechless during 
the telling of this. She talked some poor dope who looked a little 
like Mulder into stripping to tee shirt and his shorts, cuffed him, 
and made him wait with her in that freezing pit until they came.

What could she have been thinking of, Mulder fumed?   Just 
what?  A worry worm niggled at his tired brain.  How come if 
he was that ill, she could have let them take him away and not 
come?   

The first part of the trap had worked.  The women had arrived, 
sneaking in before dawn, unaware that the building was 
surrounded by agents.  Once they realised what was happening 
however a fire fight erupted. Shareen had gotten away.  A 
couple of women were injured, and one agent, Skinner said.  
The team had ended up taking about a dozen women, all from 
the village. Scully was fine.  

Mulder squeezed his eyes shut trying not to imagine Scully 
under a hail of bullets.  What had she been thinking of?  But he 
didn't need to use a great deal of intellect to work it out, she had 
been betrayed by Shareen and she was angry.  And Scully angry 
was awesome.

He opened his eyes to realise Skinner was looking at him with 
some concern.  He stood up.  'I'll leave you now.  You really do 
need to rest.  Scully will have my hide if you're too tired to see 
her later.'  He patted his hand.  'Take it easy Mulder.  Don't be 
too cross with her.  She did it for you.'

'Me?'

'Yes you dope.  Because of what they did to you.'  He looked at 
him incredulously.  'Don't you get it Mulder.  Scully fights for 
you like a mother lion protecting her cubs.  Always.  From 
anyone, even me.'

Mulder just gazed at him as his heart turned flip flops.  God he 
was so tired.  He couldn't think.

He heard Skinner speaking through a haze but could no longer 
hear what he said.  He seemed to float back down into the dark.  
Somewhere, sometime in the dark it finally registered.  She 
loves me, he thought.  She does.




- - - - - -
Sometime during the afternoon he came near the surface 
because he was aware that Skinner had had a phone call and had 
hurriedly left.  He didn't wake again fully until they turned him 
again around four.  He was beginning to understand why they 
kept turning him over.  He was completely incapable of moving 
himself in the bed at all.  He didn't think he had ever been so 
weak.  Well not in the last few weeks anyway.

Scully still wasn't there.  Surely she must be coming soon.  He 
lay there trying to compose what he would say to her.  'Scully I 
love you.' sounded so stupid when he tried it out.  'Scully, 
Skinner says you love me,' was truly pathetic.  'Scully, I'm not 
worthy of you but I love you with every part of my miserable 
body.  Stay with me forever,' was much more his style and 
likely to send her shooting straight back out the door.  It was 
ridiculous.  He'd had the chance to say this before.  In fact he 
had said it.  Or had he?  After they'd made love, before they 
made love, he'd said it.  Hadn't he?  He wasn't sure if the words 
had ever actually come out.  Surely she knew though.  Didn't 
she?  Hell the only time he was ever sure he's said it had been in 
another hospital room nearly two years ago.  He got so worked 
up that he jumped every time footsteps came near his room.

At five someone did come in.  A nurse with a message.  Dana 
had phoned.  Something had happened that she had to deal with.  
Don't worry about her, she would probably be a while.

He lay there and deflated.

At five fifteen someone came in with some jello.  It tasted great.

He slept some more and woke to the cheery face of the nurse 
from last night.  'Hi there sweet.  It seems since Dana's not here 
that its up to me to get you washed and settled for the night.'  
She started filling a bowl with water, setting out towels.  'We're 
not used to looking after you.'

It seemed ludicrous to talk of settling for the night when he 
couldn't have been any more settled if he'd tried.  His body 
seemed moulded to the bed.  Then the rest of what she said sunk 
in.  Scully had been caring for him more than the nurses.  Oh 
Scully.

'Where is Scully?'

The nurse stopped in the process of drying his face.  Her name 
tag was right in front of his eyes.  Janice Howel, it said, Staff 
Nurse.  'You did get her message didn't you?'

'Yes.  I just thought she'd be here by now.'

'Well I'm sorry but I don't know anything more than that.'  She 
pulled the hospital gown off and threaded it carefully up the IV 
tubing and over the bag.  Then she washed his chest, arms and 
hands, dried them, rolled him over and did the same for his 
back.  It was blissful.  He looked down at his body.  All but a 
few of the spots had dried and faded to a dull red colour.  Only a 
few scabby ones were still itchy.  Missing the itch was the only 
benefit he could think of in having been unconscious for four 
days.

'Dana bought you some pyjamas.  Do you want to put them 
on?'  She held them up and Mulder burst out laughing.  They 
were navy blue satin with a superman print.  It felt good to 
laugh. They weren't his usual bed wear but he was tired of 
hospital gowns and obviously Scully was trying to tell him 
something.  Washed and dressed he lay there and tried to stay 
awake but he didn't have a hope.



The sound of quiet voices woke him later.  It was quite dark, the 
only light in the room coming from the small lamp above the 
bed.  Scully was sitting in the recliner chair, stretching out and 
putting her feet up. Janice was crouched beside her as they 
chatted quietly.  They didn't seem to be aware that he was 
awake.  'Scully' he croaked.

'Hey there.'  She turned starting to get up, and Mulder gasped 
with horror.  Her leg was in a bright pink fibreglass cast.

'Scully, you're hurt!'  

She groped for a crutch that he now noticed leaning against a 
chair and hopped over to the bed.  Mulder's eyes were wide as 
he stared at her.  Oh God, was she all right?  His mind was 
racing.  That's where she must have been all day.  She'd broken 
her leg and had it set and now she was going to sleep in a chair!

'I'm all right Mulder.  It's good to see you awake at last.  How 
are you feeling?'

'But your leg?  Doesn't it hurt.'

She sat wearily on the edge of the bed.  'It does a bit now but 
that's because I've been on my feet most of the day.'  She 
smiled that tender smile reserved for showing him she really 
cared.  She took his hand.  'It's okay Mulder.  It happened days 
ago.  I broke my ankle when Shareen pushed me into the pit.'  
She laughed, 'I landed on you, that's what did it.'

'You broke your leg when you fell into that pit.' he repeated 
dumbly.

'That's right.  It's okay.  It will be fine in a few weeks.'

But it wasn't okay.  Not by a long shot!  'You stayed to trap 
them!  With a broken ankle.  Are you mad?'

'It's all right Mulder.'

He barely looked up as Janice waved goodbye and left the 
room.  Another thought struck him.  'You've been looking after 
me.  You've been doing more than the nurses.'

'I wanted to.  I needed to.  It's all right.'

'No it isn't.  It isn't all right.  I don't want you to do it
any 
more.'

'What?'

'I don't want you to look after me any more.'

'Mulder?'  She looked hurt and sad.

'Don't you see.'  He reached out and touched her cheek.  'You 
need looking after.  I want to look after you.'

'Aw shit,' she breathed.  'Shut up Mulder.  I was so pleased you 
were awake, and here we are rowing again.'  She reached across 
and pulled out all the pillows behind him.  'Move over.'  Before 
he could protest she'd put her arms under his hips and shunted 
him across the bed.  Then she climbed in beside him and lay 
down.  Mulder was speechless.  And delighted.  Scully breathed 
a sigh of relief.  'God that's good.  I know it's not hospital 
policy but I've had such a bad day.  I don't think anyone is 
going to mind.  I'm so tired.'

'Scully?'  Mulder reached out tentatively and put his hand on 
her arm.

'Shh.' She stroked his hand and then ran her hand up and 
stroked his cheek.  'We can talk in the morning.'  He could feel 
her grin against his chest.  Her hand moved from his face to his 
shoulder.  She stroked the smooth satin top.  'I like the 
pyjamas.'

'So do I.' He snuggled against her warm body, immensely 
comforted.  Whatever troubles they had they weren't beyond 
fixing.  Her being here proved that.  Everything would be all 
right.  He slept.

He woke again to the heart stopping realisation that Scully was 
in bed with him and she was crying.  She was lying quite still, 
but a quiver ran through her body giving her away.  Her head 
was nestled in his armpit, her body curled towards him and he 
was quite, quite sure she was crying. 'Scully?'  Tentatively he 
stroked her hair.

'Mmmph,' she sniffed.

Oh god you're stupid, he told himself.  She said she'd had a 
really bad day and all you've done is argue with her. With his 
free hand he groped for the tissues on the locker but the IV 
tubing tangled and nearly knocked the glass off.  He fumbled, 
caught things and finally got the box.

'What are you doing Mulder?' Scully asked wearily.

Damn.  Lancelot he wasn't.  He handed her the box.  'Are you 
alright Scully?' He was at a loss here.  He wanted to sweep her 
into his arms and hold her tight but he didn't have the strength.  
He wanted to find where it hurt and kiss it better but he knew he 
couldn't.  Nothing could fix what hurt her any more.  It was way 
too late for that.

'Scully?  What's wrong?'

She blew her nose.

'Scully?'  Then he remembered something.  'Is it to do with 
Shareen?  Skinner said they brought her in.'

'Yeah, sort of.'

Mulder held back a sigh of relief.  Shareen he felt he could help 
with.  He stroked her hair.  'You must be pretty angry at her.'
 
'She's dead Mulder.'

'What!  When?'  She was in custody wasn't she?  'How?'

Scully moaned.  God it must be bad.  'She chewed through her 
own wrists and bled to death in the cell.'

'Oh yuck!'  Christ, that was over the top.

'Yuck?  Yuck!'  Scully sat up.  'Is that the best you can do?'

'I ... I...' Personally Mulder thought it sounded like a perfectly 
fitting end for the bitch but it had obviously upset his partner.  

'Jesus Mulder!  I pronounced her dead!'

Oh.  He could picture the scene in the cell and it wasn't pretty.  
He reached for her and drew her back onto his chest.  'Shhh.  
Lie down Scully.' She grabbed a handful of satin and worried it.  
Mulder held her and stroked her.  He remembered how 
comforted he had felt when she had done this for him after he'd 
nearly turned inside out being sick.  For once in his life he had 
the sense to keep his mouth shut.

Scully was muttering to herself, nearly growling.  For a moment 
Mulder was afraid he might get bitten.  'Aw shit Mulder,' she 
finally said.  'I liked her.'

'That's alright Scully.  She made you like her.'

'I know she did,' she said through gritted teeth, 'but I should 
have seen through it.  I should have stayed objective.'

How to answer that and say the right thing?  He searched 
around for the right answer.  'She was very convincing,' he 
tried.

'Mmm.'

Relief.

She turned to look up at him.  In the near dark she looked like a 
small unhappy child.  'Oh Mulder.  You don't get it.'

No.  No he didn't.  He was very tired.

She lay down again, released the shirt and proceeded to stroke it 
instead.  Mulder let himself relax a little.  'I went to her 
interview this morning.'

He kept quiet.  He reached up and stroked her hair, his rhythm 
matching hers. 

'She was completely unrepentant.  She was full of hate.  Hate 
for men.  Hate for you.'  Her hand stopped for a moment.  
Mulder kept his moving and in a minute she joined in.  'Hate.  
She really hated... everything.  You'd have had a field day with 
her.  I was amazed she'd functioned as well as she had, so 
"normally" for so long.'

She shuddered.  'Anyway, it was horrible.  I guess we got 
finished about one and the sun was out so...' she paused guiltily.  
'I knew you'd woken in the night.  I guessed you'd probably be 
awake again but...'  Once again she was scrunching a handful of 
shirt.  Her mouth was pressing deeper against him and Mulder 
had to struggle to hear her.

'But you'd had enough of hospitals for a while?'

'Yes,' she gulped.  'No.  There was more to it than that.'  
Mulder felt his heart plunge.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know 
about what had been happening in her head.

'I had to think.'  She was going to tell him.

Mulder was thinking too and he afraid he knew where this was 
going. Somehow he forced himself to keep stroking.  Scully's 
hair was so soft, it's strands like silk, or he amended, satin under 
his fingers.  He couldn't bear the thought that this might be the 
last time she let him touch it.  He swallowed, listened, but she'd 
stopped talking.

The silence stretched out and he couldn't think of anything to 
say.

'Mulder?'  Softly.  Finally.  'Have I been that wrong before?'

Mulder's breath whooshed out of his chest.  Oh god, there was a 
lot more to that question than there seemed.  He moved his hand 
and wiped tears from her cheeks. There were so many answers 
he could give, so many references to times her belief in the 
goodness of the world had been wrong.  But he was tuned in to 
her now, in this moment in time and it was the essence she 
needed now, not the truth.  'No Scully.'  He dropped a kiss on 
her head.  Scully grabbed at him and started to sob.

'Scully.'  He knew what this was about and it was up to him 
now.  Come on Mulder, take control.  Oh Jesus, you can do 
this? 'Scully.  Listen to me.'  He gave her a little shake.  

She moaned a little.

'Here look.'  He fished around until he found the tissues again.  
'Blow you nose please.  Listen to me.'  Something in his voice 
must have sunk in.  She lifted her head and did as she was told.

'Good.  That's better.'

She lay down again.

'Do you want a drink of water or anything?' Mulder stalled.  

He felt her smile against his side.  'No thanks.'

He took a deep breath.  Held it.  Let it out.  'Scully, you're 
worried aren't you, that you might also have misjudged how I 
feel about you.'  A pain stabbed in his chest.  He'd said it.  'Is

that it?'

She went still.  Slowly she nodded.

Mulder forced his hand to sit still on her head, not to do to her 
hair what she'd been doing to his shirt.  'Scully.'  They'd been

here before.  But this time it was vitally important he get it right.  
He couldn't do this again.  'I'm quite rational, okay?'  Once 
again he took deep breaths.  He could feel his heart rate starting 
to hit the danger level and was amazed the alarms on the 
monitor weren't going off.  'My temperature has been fine all 
day.  The only drugs I'm on are antibiotics and oxygen, and that 
makes me think clearer.'  That was a dumb thing to say.

She patted him gently.  'Go on,' she said.

He had no choice now.  After that build up his bridges were 
burned.  There was nothing else to say and suddenly he found 
he was quite calm.  'I love you Scully.'

He held his breath waiting for her reply... and had to let it out.  
He breathed some more.  She didn't move, didn't make a sound.  
His calmness was rapidly leaving in the face of her silence and 
God he was tired.  He felt himself starting to sink back into the 
dark.

'Scully.' His voice shook.  'Please can you say something 
before I fall asleep.'  Tears were starting to prick at his eyes.

'Oh Mulder.'  She wiggled up the bed until her head was on the 
pillow next to his.  Her thumbs wiped his tears.  She kissed him 
on "that" spot on the forehead.  'Shh, it's alright.'  But it
wasn't.  
Not yet.  'I was quiet because it was just so nice, lying here like 
this, hearing you say that.'  She put her finger to his lips to stop 
him speaking.  'I made a decision today.  Actually I made it five 
nights ago but what happened today made me think it through 
further.'

'Oh God!' He gasped.  A decision made lying in a freezing pit 
with a broken ankle watching him die.  He knew what it had to 
be.  She'd had enough.  His heart squeezed in pain.

'Mulder.  Shush.  It's alright.  Here,' the tissue box hit him on 
the nose, 'you listen to me now.  Okay.'

He gulped and blew his nose.  Imperceptibly he nodded.  He 
willed her to get it over with.

She felt around and found his hand.  'I've had enough Mulder.  I 
can't take this any more.'

Something large and solid slammed into his chest.  He had 
trouble taking a breath.  Being prepared didn't make this any 
better. The darkness at the edge of the room seemed to pulse. 
He must have groaned.

'Shh Mulder.  It's alright.  Come back to me.  Listen to me.'  
Scully was holding his face.  'Come on Mulder.  Take a breath.  
That's right.  Let it out.  And another.  That's good.  It's 
alright.'

Slowly he got his breathing under control and managed to look 
up at her again.  'That's good,' she soothed.  'It's okay. 
Really.  
I'm sorry I didn't mean that to come out like that.  It's
alright.'  
Mulder gave a sudden sob and she lay across him and wrapped 
him in her arms.  'I'm not going anywhere Mulder.  I'm not 
leaving you.  I love you too and you've got me for keeps.  Shhh.  
Calm down.  It's okay.'  Awkwardly his arms came around her 
and he clutched on to her like a drowning man.

When he'd finally got himself under control he was exhausted 
again.  But he couldn't allow himself to sleep.  Not yet.

'What do you mean?'

'Marry me Mulder?'

'What did you say?'  He jolted with shock. 
  
'Fox William Mulder, will you marry me?'

He gaped at her.  'How does that fix anything?'

'It proves I love you and I want us to spend the rest of our lives 
together.'

'You don't mean that?'

'I do too.'

'But what about the X Files?'

'What about them Mulder?'  She looked him square in the eye.  
'Think about monstrous video games and snake charming 
preachers.  How would our lives suffer from not dealing with 
those?'  She didn't give him a chance to answer.  'I have had 
enough of wondering if you will survive till morning.  I have sat 
by far too many hospital beds.  You have brought down the 
Consortium and you've found what happened to your sister.  It 
is time to stop.'  She drew breath but not long enough for 
Mulder to interrupt.  'I am ready to stop Mulder but I won't 
make you if you don't want to.  You know I wouldn't do that.  
But I might be able to make you open up to some extreme 
possibilities.'  She grinned.  'If we were married you know 
you'd be coming home to me every night.  We'd be together 
Mulder.  Properly.  No more sneaking.  You and me.  That's 
what is important.  We can work out the details later.  Okay?'

Now she stopped and looked at him expectantly.  He looked 
shell shocked.  'Well?  What do you say?'
 
A mile wide smile spread across his face.  'Yes,' he said.  And 
then he couldn't fight it any longer.  He fell asleep.

END




Authors notes:
Do cell phone batteries last that long?  I have no idea.  Maybe 
high tech FBI owned ones do.
This is a rewrite of the original posted about a year ago.  No one 
seemed to have read it but I always thought it was a reasonably 
good story.  The actual story hasn't changed, it has another day 
added for the sheer joy of increasing the MT component, and it 
is much better written (I think).  I have also updated it.  It 
seemed to fit so well after the silliness of FPS and the way 
Scully must have felt towards Mulder after that.  I also assumed 
now, and I hadn't then, that they are sleeping together.  And 
finally, I lost the ghastly saccharin ending of the original.  Back 
then I didn't know the characters very well.
Chicken pox in adults is truly awful.  I don't recommend it to 
anyone.