From:     Vger
Date:     3/19/98
Subject:  MSR/Mythology Story

Title:    Birth Right 
Author:   Vger
Reply to: Vger@colint.com
Rated:    NC-17 
Spoilers: Season 5 through the Red and the Black, and loosely                                                                                               
          on movie rumors                                         
Summary:  A mythology story involving romance between Mulder                                  
          and Scully in the midst of season five enigmas.
Archive:  MSR & mythology sites anywhere.

DISCLAIMER:  The X-files and all related characters, and plot 
references belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX, 
Inc.  No copyright infringement is intended.  I borrowed them for 
personal amusement having become intrigued with recent movie 
rumors and potential scenarios between the characters.  It has also 
been maddeningly necessary to keep updating my plot as season 5 
has unfolded since it has taken me so long to find time to write this 
piece to its conclusion.  Any small similarity to any upcoming 
plots from Fox would be an x-file in itself, however, I would 
suggest reading up on "remote viewing" as employed by our 
government's intelligence operations should any such trespass 
possibly occur! 




BIRTH RIGHT


Prologue

Bear & Company Publishing
Santa Fe, New Mexico 1995


"Greetings, dear friends, we are here.  It is our intention to assist 
you in creating a new vision - a vision that inspires you to live and 
love on planet Earth.  Like a priceless jewel, buried in dark layers 
of soil and stone, Earth radiates her brilliant beauty into the 
caverns of space and time.  As a value yet to be realized and 
discovered, she patiently awaits her coronation by her people.  She 
creates you and sustains you, and without her, as you now know 
yourselves, you could not be.  We ask you, as seekers of the great 
stories, to proclaim an allegiance to Earth.  Pledge the 
transformation of yourselves, which is the journey through light 
and dark, and honor Earth's momentous role in setting you free.  
As threads unravel to reveal your celestial heritage, do not become 
entrapped by a glamour from the heavens, for you too are on a star, 
reflecting and radiating light to worlds seeking the solutions to 
their own creations."

- The Pleiadians as channeled by Barbara Marciniak, from Earth: 
The Pleiadian Keys to the Living Library



"Who is the visitor on this shimmering, watery orb we call Earth?  
Look around you, for it is I.   I am a descendant of the universe 
destined to return full circle to my home as I begin to recall my 
celestial roots."

 
Washington D.C.
11:02 PM  

The insistent ringing of the telephone brought Special Agent Dana 
Scully hurrying out of her bathroom as she finished pulling a 
flannel nightshirt over her head.  She mumbled irritably at the 
phone thinking she should be letting the machine pick it up, except 
that it was probably her mother calling.  She hadn't called 
Margaret in a couple of weeks now with the hectic pace she and 
her partner at the FBI had been keeping.  Besides, serial killings 
always depressed her and she was reluctant to call anyone in that 
state of mind.  This time they had spent a fruitless two weeks in 
Georgia before learning that the "phantom" killer was a local with 
very earthly means of harming others.  They had immediately 
turned it over to the violent crime section to tie up.  It hadn't 
turned out to be an X-file after all, and their bureau colleagues had 
naturally ribbed them that it was much too "normal" for the two of 
them to be working on.  Everyone in the FBI knew the X-file 
division specialized in the macabre and paranormal, by the 
personal design of her partner, Fox Mulder.  In reality the 
assignment's ending had been a relief since neither she or Mulder could 
stop thinking about the unexplained phenomenon of the recent 
UFO contacts and mass burnings at reported abductee sites.  Dana 
snatched the phone out of its cradle and breathlessly answered.  

"Scully?" queried the familiar voice of her partner.  "You sound 
like you've been running."

"Yes, well, in a manner of speaking I was!"  She snorted.  "What's 
wrong, Mulder?"

"Does a guy have to be calling his favorite partner for a problem 
always?"  He intoned feigned hurt.

"Mulder!" she growled humorlessly.  It didn't bother her that he 
was calling her already, but she had learned to expect that some 
unplanned event was about to follow.

"Okay, okay, Scully!"  He admitted laughing.  "I was hoping you 
were still up.  I wanted to show you something."  He listened to her 
silence a moment, guessing she was gunning for her bed any time 
now.

"Can't it hold off until I see you at the office tomorrow, Mulder?" 
she sighed.  "You dropped me off only 3 hours ago!"

"Look, I'm sorry, you're right, but it's important," he pleaded ever 
so slightly.  A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Okay, but I'm going to bed immediately after you show me," she 
conceded.  "How close are you?"

"Promises, promises, Scully," he teased.  "Is outside your door 
close enough?"  Scully carried her phone over to her front door and 
peered out the peephole.  Mulder was standing on the other side 
with his cell phone and a toothy grin.  She hung up the phone 
decisively, setting it aside as she opened the door.

"Is that any way to end a phone conversation, Agent Scully?"  He 
asked with mock indignation.  "I think we are going to need to 
review your bureau manners again. "  He stopped to eye her as she 
closed the door then winked at her.  "Flannel.  Very sexy."  She 
crossed her arms in front of her and tried to adopt her most 
intimidating gaze.  He smiled regarding her with warm hazel eyes, 
thinking to himself how much younger she looked with her red 
hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing her plaid nightshirt and 
fuzzy socks.

"What've you got, Mulder?"  She asked pointedly while he 
shrugged off his coat.  Mulder stood head and shoulders taller than 
she did and at the close proximity she found it annoyingly 
necessary to strain her neck looking up at him.  He turned to her 
and produced a photo of a half-buried aircraft, lodged in a snowy 
embankment.  What she could make out of it did not lend itself to 
any familiar make of ship or plane, however, she reasoned that 
much of it still lay below the surface of the terrain.

"What am I looking at?"  She asked handing it back to him with a 
frown.

"Do you recognize it?"  He asked watching her face intently as he 
ran a hand through his dark hair.

"No, should I?"  She replied drawing a smile from him.

"Possibly," he nodded.  "My source indicates that this craft was 
stumbled onto by a couple of Canadian geologists during a recent 
seismic expedition.  As you may know, there has been an increase 
in earth tremors in the Yukon of late, and they theorized that 
perhaps this was just unearthed by the largest quake.  When they 
tried to match it with potential missing aircraft they drew a blank 
on anything catalogued world wide."

"Yes, but that could mean that they have seen too little data yet, 
based on how much is still underground, or its possibly a military 
make not released to the private sector to date," she surmised 
taking the photo from him again.  "You'll have to admit that there 
isn't much to go on from this photo."  

"Yes, but the kicker is that my informant claims that this craft 
bears some markings, which you can't see in the photo," he told 
with animation.  "Markings which indicate a relationship with our 
mysterious faceless men - the same faceless men you described at 
the mass burning you witnessed."  Scully made a face at him.

"Come on, Mulder!"  She spat.  "Who gave you this lead?"  She 
eyed him sternly, as he ran his hands through his hair again.

"I know it's a stretch, Scully, " he agreed.  "I got this tip from an 
anonymous envelope that was left under my door when I got in.  
I'm not saying that it's the real thing, but someone out there 
wanted me to know about this.  Someone intended that I check it 
out, and I think we both know that the truth may actually be much 
more bizarre than a link with a so-called alien."  Scully stared at 
him a moment, pondering his words before turning to sink into a 
nearby chair.  Mulder held his breath a second settling himself onto 
the floor beside her.  He knew her so well by now; he could've 
predicted this entire conversation.  What he loved about her was 
that she had followed his logic flawlessly. 

"So you intend to go there yourself to chase the men or whomever 
behind this," she concluded.  He smiled nodding slowly.  

"Yes, but I need you to stall Skinner a couple of days until I can 
get there and back."  Scully visualized their supervisor, imagining 
him tolerantly listening to yet another spotty explanation for Agent 
Mulder's current absence from her side.  God she hated it when 
Mulder left her to back up his stories!

"I'm going with you, Mulder," she informed him coolly.  "You'll 
have to distract Skinner another way."

"Scully," Mulder shook his head indulgently, "you're not going to 
run off to the frozen wilderness of Canada for something we both 
know might be a dangerous waste of time.  Besides, when have we 
ever gone camping that we didn't have some pretty miserable 
conditions?"  She pushed him aside as she rose to her feet.

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you go uncovered on 
this wild goose chase," she emphasized, standing with her hands 
on her hips.  "Anyway, you didn't come over here to keep me up 
just to tell me you're taking off without me, buddy, so shut up and 
tell me when we leave!"  Mulder started laughing, amused that she 
was so predictable.  He knew he should protest, but Scully was not 
a fainting flower.  She would not take a backseat for safety, and 
while he cared about her, he also respected her enough to accept 
her wishes.  Scully had chosen a life in the FBI and no amount of 
affection he held for her should be allowed to interfere with her 
choice, regardless how much harder it was growing for him each 
day.

"I've arranged things for tomorrow.   I want to get over there as 
early as possible ahead of others that may've intercepted this 
information.  I also understand that the weather is pretty 
unpredictable.  If we don't get in before the snow it could be much 
longer before this thing can be uncovered.  Someone may have it 
conveniently removed at any time anyway, if it exists at all."   
They looked at each other steadily, the silence falling between 
them.  Scully thought he looked annoyingly handsome, then turned 
her eyes away from him.  She needed to get out more!  Mulder was 
becoming her whole life these days, and it frightened her.  The 
scary part was that she understood that she had become his as well.  
Not a healthy arrangement for co-workers she decided.

"Well, then maybe we could get some sleep before it's time to get 
started again," she sighed.  

"I don't suppose I could borrow a couch tonight, could I?"  He 
ventured cautiously.  She studied him a moment before replying.

"What about your things?"  She asked raising her eyebrows at him.

"Out in the car.  I'm ready to go," he answered readily.  She 
laughed and shook her head.  

"Okay, I'll get you some blankets, but if you start snoring I'm not 
promising I won't shoot you!"

"Scully, that's a threat I take to heart!" he grinned, comfortable 
with the exchange.  Scully was definitely his closest friend.  For 
that matter she was his closest anything.  Once he had told her that 
he had his work and her, besides having himself.  It was no less 
true today.  He watched her disappear in search of the bedding, 
thinking they should just drop this ritual.  He didn't even bother 
trying to give reasons anymore as to why he didn't want to make 
the extra trip back to his own apartment, and he knew where the 
blankets were if he wanted to get them himself.  Scully would 
deposit them in a heap on the couch along with a pillow and wish 
him goodnight, padding off to her bedroom.  Tomorrow he would 
make the coffee while she showered and wait for his turn in the 
bathroom.  It was a familiar routine, and as he thought about it he 
couldn't quite recall when they had dispensed with some of the 
usual boundaries.  When was it that they had exchanged apartment 
keys anyway?  When had she started packing their things at those 
nameless hotels after those god-awful cases, invading his life like 
no other woman since his mother?  He sighed and shrugged to 
himself.  It really didn't matter.  It was comfortable and he had no 
intention of changing things.

Scully returned with his bedding and slipped away to her room.  
She, too, had been pondering the familiarity she shared with her 
partner.  It was comforting to be "family" she reasoned, although 
her real family would probably have a few words about her choice 
of companions.  She laughed quietly as she crawled into her bed 
and tried to imagine her older brother, Bill, stopping by for a visit.  
It was unfortunate that he was so disapproving of Mulder.  It 
would almost be worth seeing the look on his face should a sleepy 
Mulder answer her door!  She smiled again and closed her eyes, 
pushing the thoughts of tomorrow's snowy trip far from her. 

D.C. Area
11:30 PM

The heavy-set man barely acknowledged his visitor who had just 
been shown into the poolroom by a manservant.   He sat quietly in 
the hot tub contemplating the swirling water as the man 
approached him slowly with unease.  When the younger man 
stopped near the tub he paused before clearly his throat audibly.  
Was he just going to be ignored, he wondered?   Finally the host 
shifted in the water, and turned an uncaring gaze on him.

"Was it delivered?"  He asked in a monotone, his face devoid of 
expression.  The younger man nodded slowly.

"It was delivered and received as planned," he replied trying to 
guess his current standing with his employer.  The heavy man 
remained impassive, however, continuing his steady gaze.

"And did it have the desired effect?"  He asked studying the 
messenger's reaction.

"It appears so.  Mulder is consulting his partner as we speak, no 
doubt arranging his trip."  There was a silence following this 
answer, causing the visitor to shift uncomfortably.  When would he 
be brought into the details of this plan further?

"I will let our associates know of this outcome," stated the solemn 
man as he moved slightly in the tub.  "That is all then.  You will 
await further instructions."  For a moment the onlooker hesitated 
as if he might question this directive, but noting the older man's 
raised eyebrow he reconsidered the challenge.  He allowed his face 
to harden, but said nothing, turning abruptly to go.  He could feel 
that cold stare following him to the door yet did not look back.  It 
would be dangerous to appear affected, so he chose instead to keep 
walking.  The large man waited until he could be sure that his 
recruit was safely gone before reaching for the phone on the 
nearby deck.  He dialed without apparent haste, his face remaining 
as unreadable as before.  When he heard the intended party he 
spoke.   

"It's done," he reported flatly, then waited.  "Then you should 
make the necessary arrangements for the interception while I finish 
my portion here."  He listened for another moment before hanging 
up.  Reaching for his bathrobe he heaved himself up and out of the 
water, wrapping himself comfortably once he had exited the water.  
Unruffled by the appearance of yet another gentleman, the large 
man poured himself a glass of the wine that awaited him on the 
nearby table.  He turned to his new companion and raised his glass 
slightly.

"Our visitor tonight must be taken care of.  I trust you will see to 
this properly."  The new man tipped his head silently and exited 
fluidly from the poolroom.  Sipping his wine the big man stared off 
into space as he imagined the sound of the man in question dying.  
He was satisfied with the smooth execution of his plan thus far.


Canadian Northwest Territory / Day Two
3:20 PM  

The helicopter touched down on a small clearing in the mountain 
range, high above the frigid waters of the river in the distance.  
From his window Mulder scanned the rugged, snowy terrain of the 
hillside, trying to determine the approximate location of their 
target, while Scully peered out at the cold environment skeptically.  
The man in the pilot's seat shifted uncomfortably shooting her a 
furtive look, which added to her sense of foreboding.  Mulder had 
used agency connections to seek out prospective guides, and this 
man had been identified as one of the best local guides for the area.  
While he had checked out well, Scully had sensed his tension 
around them from the beginning.  She wondered if someone had 
gotten to him before they had connected for the flight.

"This is it," the pilot named Brent told her.  "I hope you guys are 
prepared for this weather.  It's a helluva time to be chasing wildlife 
photos."  Mulder leaned forward and smiled at him.  Internally he 
felt great impatience having been delayed until late afternoon for 
their arrival.  It would be of no use to hike to the site tonight and 
attempt a search.  Another day was going to be lost. 

"Yes, well you have to come to their habitat in the appropriate 
season if you want to get realistic shots," he explained innocently, 
concealing his true feelings well.  The pilot studied him as if he 
were an idiot then shook his head. "What?  You guys trying to get 
these for National Geographic or something?"  He questioned as he 
undid his harness.

"If we're lucky, who knows?" Scully chimed in reaching for her 
gear.  The pilot grunted and raised the hood of his parka.

The two FBI agents climbed out of their seats and set about 
making camp with the help of their guide.  Mulder instructed 
Scully that they would share a tent as they started working to erect 
one.  She took this to mean that he shared some of her concern 
about their companion also, so she agreed with him readily.   
Under other circumstances, there might be some humorous banter 
between them about it, but given the harsh environment around 
them, and their current dependence on this guide, they found 
themselves grimly setting about their work to prepare for the 
oncoming night.   

Scully finally allowed herself to relax a bit once the camp was set 
and Brent suggested they all seek their own shelter for the night.  
She had crawled into the tent where Mulder had started their 
camping heater, and perused their food supply for the evening.  
Mulder followed her in and busied himself with adjusting the 
lantern before seating himself beside her.  For a moment he held 
her gaze without words. 

"So Brent may be a liability, hmm?"  He quietly asked her at last.  
She smiled at him, tossing him a bagged sandwich.

"And I thought you just wanted to get me alone in your tent!"  She 
shot back sarcastically.  He laughed, opening the sandwich.

"That too!"   He began eating his food, stopping to gesture at her 
with his sandwich as he chewed.  "I don't know what the locals 
would've been privy to.  You never know who's leaked out what."

"He certainly seems paranoid, not to mention being a pirate!" Scully 
remarked dryly.  "He's robbing us for this trip."

"Well, a guy's gotta live, Scully," replied Mulder mocking 
indignation.  "If there's a craft up there, I doubt we're the first to 
be looking for it.  The question will be what's waiting for us."  
Scully nodded thoughtfully, hesitating before she spoke again.

"You know this may be another wild goose chase we're on, meant 
to further the deception they seem to want to feed us," she warned 
him.  "I've been thinking that another possibility may be that this 
is a trap, Mulder.  We're out here totally exposed if someone 
intends to harm us."

"I've thought about that," he answered grimly.  "I've already tried 
the cell phone, but I'm out of range, as I'm sure you are too."

"He certainly seems paranoid, not to mention being a pirate!" 
Scully remarked dryly.  "He's robbing us for this trip."

"The helicopter is the only hope to call help if we need it then.  
Maybe we should've brought Skinner into this more this time," she 
sighed, picking at her food.    Mulder studied her a moment 
wondering if she was regretful to have come along with him this 
time.  It reminded him of how much harder it was becoming to 
work together.  He was torn inside between his growing fear that 
she would be harmed, and his hopeless inability to work without 
her companionship. 

"I suppose we should take watch shifts," he mused, gesturing for a 
can of soda.  "I'll take the first one.  I feel pretty wired."  He 
opened the can and drank deeply.  Scully watched him while 
deciding if she should protest or not.  She doubted if she would 
sleep much herself with the gnawing anxiety that had been 
growing in her belly.  At first she had listened to Mulder's 
proposed plan with the familiarity of having heard many such 
itineraries over the years.  As this trip had unfolded, however, she 
began to believe they were being teased out for a more malicious 
purpose.  The information about the proposed spacecraft had fallen 
into their hands too easily.  Granted, the reports of recent seismic
activity in the Canadian terrain could explain for this recent geological
revelation, however, Scully was unconvinced that this finding would make its way 
to Mulder so directly.  She also knew that while her partner would 
not be unaware of this, he would still feel compelled to search out 
the lead and it's ultimate intent.  It was unwise to walk into this, 
and yet she refused to allow him to go after it alone.  Scully re-
wrapped the remainder of her food and sipped at her drink.

"I don't usually retire quite so early myself," she sighed.  "I don't 
suppose you brought a deck of cards. "  He smiled shaking his 
head. 

"Maybe spin the pop can?" he asked innocently drawing an evil 
look from her.  "I know.  It just isn't the same as a bottle is it? Or 
maybe you never had the pleasure of playing it as a kid, Scully."  
He threw the mild challenge out without looking at her while he 
rummaged in his knapsack.  She grunted.  

"Don't goad me, Mulder," she warned playfully, stretching out on 
her side on a sleeping bag.  "You might find that I have a much 
more interesting childhood than you think!"

"I've always heard that about catholic girls, Dana Katherine 
Scully," he replied with a wicked grin.  Scully flung her gloves at 
him, and he laughed as he dodged her shot.   "Now Scully, stop 
distracting me here.  I'm trying to formulate our plan for 
tomorrow!"  Scully rolled her eyes at him as she tried to arrange 
her bedding more comfortably.  

"Fine," she said holding up her hands.  "Kill that light when you're 
done, okay?"

"What?  Did I offend you?" he asked smiling.

"No," she grinned.  "I don't know what else to do with myself, so I 
might as well get some rest before it's my turn, okay?"

Mulder nodded watching her slide into the sleeping bag enviously.  
Neither of them heard the footsteps of their pilot as Brent neared 
their tent, pausing in the cold to listen for a moment, before 
retreating back to his own tent.   What little he had overheard had 
sounded benign enough, but he was unready to let go of the 
warning he had received about these two.  His benefactor had 
promised him that they were armed and dangerous, not to be 
trusted at any cost.  He didn't see how that little red head posed 
much threat, but then he doubted that anyone would've feared 
Clyde's Bonnie, either.  He would be glad when tomorrow's work 
was done.  This promised to be a long sleepless night ahead for 
him, and he had wished the other man could've been convinced to 
move on them sooner.

"Don't worry," the man had said in an well-enunciated tone.  "You 
are valuable to them.  They need your help to reach their 
destination, and we need them to succeed before anything is 
disclosed.  I assure you that you will be compensated well for your 
trouble."  Brent thought about the older man with some disgust.  
Damned rich guys were always ready to put your ass on the line, 
and they knew they had you by the balls as they waved their 
money under your nose.  This guy probably never broke a sweat in 
his entire icy life.  Brent sniffed angrily.  If everything went right 
on this deal, he wouldn't be sweating much more himself.  One 
night more and then it was pay dirt. He settled into his bedding 
after rechecking his rifle, and waited for morning.



Day Three 
9:00 AM 

The trip up the mountain's snowy slope was somewhat arduous, 
however, Brent pressed them on as if unaware of it.  Scully was 
more winded than she cared to admit, silently forcing herself on 
since Mulder hiked along eagerly beside their guide as if 
unaffected.  She was thinking of hot baths and tropical vistas, as 
her camera bag bounced heavily around her neck.  She wished the 
next alien aircraft would choose to turn up in some exotic vacation 
area.  The hell of it was that after trudging through these conditions 
she was could only expect to find either nothing or some 
unpleasant reception.  She was hard pressed to say that the rousing 
campfire breakfast that Brent had helped supply this morning was 
adequate to offset this predictable outcome.  She watched him 
periodically marking their trek with fluorescent red streamers atop 
metal rods.  Had there not been a gradual thickening of trees she 
would have found this behavior unnecessary.  A quick glance over 
her shoulder told her that the unfamiliar terrain had quickly 
blended together as they made a curving journey upward.  Even if 
she followed the slope downward at this point she might never find 
the exact location of the base camp.  The thought sent another 
tremor of apprehension through her.   

Mulder felt invigorated as his lungs refilled with the cold air despite 
his usual disdain for the winter.  He looked around the beautiful 
landscape trying to remain mindful of the peacefulness of this 
moment.  He too expected disappointment or danger, and his 
restless night had not produced any dazzling scenarios should the 
latter be the case.  Perhaps he should've risked taking Brent into 
his confidence since their arrival, possibly constructing an escape 
plan if needed.  He still felt uneasy about him, though, and decided 
it was wiser that he and Scully roll with the events as they 
unfolded.  He had purposely asked Brent to take them within the 
proximity of the ship's estimated location without actually 
exposing the site completely to his view.  Once they were able to 
set up the warming tent he expected that he and Scully would have 
freedom to wander from their guide's watchful eyes. 

They arrived at their intended destination shortly, Brent helping 
them to erect the temporary shelter with a heater, before pausing to 
study the sky intently.  All three of them could detect the slight 
darkening in the distant eastern sky.   Brent pointed to the sky 
shaking his head slowly.

"I was afraid of the snow rolling in," he told them.  "You're going 
to have to get your pictures early today, and get out of here, before 
we get buried."

"How long do we have, do you think?"  Mulder asked, adjusting 
his ski glasses.  Even in the gray morning light the intense 
whiteness was hard on his eyes.  Brent frowned as he thought 
about the question before answering.

"I think you'd better plan on working up here for another couple of 
hours or so before starting back."  Brent rubbed the back of his 
neck half-expecting some argument, but Mulder nodded 
thoughtfully.

"It doesn't allow much time to the award winning shots," he 
commented.  "What are the chances of flying out and coming back 
to camp after the snow breaks?"  In the back of his mind he was 
recalling the die-hard photographers who lived in their intended 
environs for months looking for those hard to get shots.  He 
wondered how spotty his cover appeared to Brent just now.

"If you like, for the right price." Brent smiled thinly.  In that 
moment Scully decided she didn't like him at all.

"You'll get your money," she responded dryly before glancing at 
Mulder in warning.

"Good," he shrugged.  "I think I'll hike back to the bird and check 
her out, then.  You saw the trail marks but here's a flare gun if you 
somehow get off track coming back."  He eyed them carefully, as 
he thumbed a hand back at their pathway.  "When the wind picks 
up there may not be much left of our footprints later."

"You're not coming back?"  Scully asked cautiously.  She could 
feel Mulder assessing the same thing.

"No.  I'll wait for you at the camp, and start breaking us down 
when it's time to go.  You two use your two hours and then get 
your asses back to camp.  I won't wait for you on account of the 
snow.  If it looks like I need you to come sooner I'll send up a flare 
myself."   Brent turned to go abruptly, then paused as if aware of 
his two companions staring at him suspiciously.

"Don't worry," he said laughing.  "I'm not going to leave you up 
here without getting the rest of my damn money unless you fuck 
with me about leaving before the snow!"  Neither Mulder nor 
Scully spoke as they watched Brent start down the trail.  After a 
moment Mulder placed a guiding hand on Scully's back herding 
her into the tent.

"Probably not good," he said quietly.  She nodded furrowing her 
brow. 

"Well, at least we have a flare gun, I suppose," she countered 
flatly.  He began to laugh.

"Do you suppose they'll see it all the way back at Washington, and 
get word to Skinner?"

"Yeah, about the time this heater runs out of fuel, and we're sitting 
here like coyote bait," she smirked.

"Or worse," he added under his breath.  "Well, let's conserve the 
fuel and take a look around before we head out after him.  We'll 
tell him that we got spooked by a mountain lion!"  Scully raised 
her eyebrows and got to her feet.  

"The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned," she agreed, 
pulling the tent flap back and exiting.

Mulder and Scully began searching the perimeter of the shelter 
carefully keeping their directions marked, while Mulder used his 
compass to move them towards the coordinates he believed to be 
their goal. Systematically they searched the coordinates, returning 
to the warming tent for short reprieves before continuing again in 
the cold.  After more than an hour's fruitless search they had 
decided to return to the shelter when the not too distant sound of 
the helicopter's engine echoed through the quiet terrain.  The pair 
of agents stood holding their breath straining to tell if the sound 
was travelling away from them.  At first it appeared that the engine 
had fired up but had remained stationary, indicating that Brent 
might be checking on things as he had described.  To their dismay, 
however, the helicopter began to rise out of the tree line, until their 
could see it clearly in the sky to the right of them.  Suddenly the air 
was filled with an ear-splitting explosion.  A column of fire spread 
across the sky while they watched the exploding aircraft in 
disbelief.  They stood wide-eyed as the echo of the boom died 
away into absolute nothingness.  Ten to one, Brent would not be 
getting his money, Mulder thought grimly feeling Scully grip his 
arm.  The worse case scenario was about to unfold, and he had to 
find protection immediately.

Mulder grabbed Scully's arm tightly, urging her to jog with him 
away from the shelter and in a different direction than they had 
come from the base camp.  Part of Scully's mind wished to argue 
his actions but then she also knew that he feared being discovered.  
Whoever had seen to the helicopter's destruction could be intent on 
theirs as well, and there was no where to turn.  Fluorescent red 
markers were leading the way to their exact location, not to 
mention that their tracks in the daylight pointed the way wherever 
they might seek hiding. There was nowhere to turn.  They ran 
breathlessly against the snow for nearly a half-mile until Mulder 
spotted a large indentation in the ledge to their right.  He had 
practically dragged his partner inside the hole hoarsely whispering 
to her to draw her weapon.  He strained to hear over their panting 
breath, imagining he had heard the echo of distant voices.  Scully 
leaned against him with her gun held tightly, the metal still warm 
from her body beneath her coat. She stood in tension, as time 
seemed to stretch on into forever. She heard the second boom at 
the same time Mulder flinched in surprise, guessing this had been 
their kerosene heater. They waited silently, poised to shoot, 
watching the first of the large snow flakes begin to fall.  The world 
around them became deathly silent, as if all life had ceased in the 
falling snow.  They could not make out anything, not even the 
sound of the intruder's retreat, as they waited anxiously.  After 
what seemed to be enough time for their enemies to find them 
Mulder began to relax.

"They should've found us by now," he mused aloud.  Scully also 
moved out of her firing position and nodded.

"If they intended to corner us they've had ample opportunity," she 
agreed.  "Unless they prefer to leave us to freeze, of course."  
Mulder turned his gaze from the entrance of their hiding place and 
studied her face.  

"I have matches this trip, Scully," he offered with a crooked grin.

"Great!  Now if you have an axe or hunting knife we can gathered 
some green wood for a fire!"  She retorted gloomily.

"Now who's the cynic?" he teased.  She tilted her head and 
shrugged.

"The reality is that if we try to stay in this spot we will die from 
exposure before we can get help.  Our only real hope is to find 
better shelter."  She imparted this information in her Dr. Scully 
voice causing him to sigh.  The chances of finding better shelter 
were.He looked at the snow, which was falling harder now.  
Brent had not been lying about that point anyway.

"We can't be sure that our friends aren't nearby. We'll just have to 
take our chances," he decided.  "Maybe we can find a cave or 
something."  Scully nodded thinking a cave could not offer them 
much more help than this ledge, following Mulder out of hiding as 
he motioned her to do so.  Silently, he pointed to head downward 
and away from their point of arrival, and potential guests. 

FBI Headquarters 
2:00 PM

Assistant Director Skinner punched his intercom button with 
frustration bringing the calm reply of his secretary.                                               

"Yes sir?"   

"Have agents Mulder or Scully reported in yet?" he demanded 
gruffly.                                                                     

"No, sir, not yet," she answered without emotion.  

"I want you to hunt down Andrews and Sidney to get on this.  Tell 
them I want them to dig around until they turn up something on 
those two.  They can call me if they have questions," he barked.                                                                                

"Yes, sir, " she replied steadily. 

Skinner flipped off the intercom button and ran a hand over his 
balding head.  Damn them!  When were they going to learn to trust 
him enough to bring him in on their movements?  Any other agents 
he would've nailed to the wall for such blatant disrespect and 
insubordination.  He grudgingly admitted to himself that he trusted 
their instincts above all others, but it did not mean that they were 
invincible.  At this moment their C.E.O. felt a pang of uneasiness 
about their absence.  Mulder was like a shooting star that 
threatened to burn brightly and die, with Scully traveling along in 
his wake.  If their bizarre cases didn't bring them to harm then 
surely a dark figure in their own government was always waiting 
in the wings to silence their search for the truth. Skinner shifted his 
chair around towards the window and sighed.  It occurred to him 
that while he didn't miss the bastard sneering and smoking in the 
corner of his office at whim, he did miss the option of picking 
Cancerman's brain for information.  Cancerman always knew 
about Mulder and Scully.  While the older man's deviance had 
been unhelpful to Mulder, there was still some unnamed interest 
there.  It seemed as if this foul man had both protected and 
deceived Mulder simultaneously, albeit he had had some 
unforgivable role in Scully's abduction and cancer.  Now that he 
was gone, Skinner was pressed to know whom he might pump for 
some inside information.

An image of an encounter with Mulder flashed into his mind 
leading to the true source of his present preoccupation.  It had been 
after the capture of Modell's sister as he tried to commend 
Mulder's work.  He had known Mulder was angry with him when 
he had placed him on suspension, but he was even more aware of 
Mulder's angry resignation when Scully had agreed.  Any lack of 
faith in him on her part seemed to cut Mulder to the core.  Her 
opinion was so much more valuable to Mulder. Mulder had seen 
through Linda's deception despite everyone's doubt in his theory, 
and had pursued this truth. Skinner had wanted Mulder to know 
that he recognized his value, too, that day, although Mulder had 
stood there unimpressed.  Skinner hadn't personalized it, though, 
knowing that Mulder's statement about feeling he had lost Linda's 
game had been full of deeper meaning.

Skinner sighed, turning back to his desk and picking up his pen. 
Once he had told Mulder that he saw him as someone unafraid to 
go into paranormal places that he himself could not explore.  He 
knew that many men would blanch at the things Mulder had faced 
down, but as in all great warriors, there was a vulnerability to be 
discovered.  He was well aware that any agent would be shaken if 
he or she had nearly killed a partner.  Partners with any amount of 
time together in law enforcement became as close as any family - 
in some cases closer than family.  Maybe if they hadn't been 
through so much with Scully's cancer, he might not have see into 
Mulder so clearly.  Mulder's behavior at the hospital had been 
revealing, however, through the vigils he had proceeded to keep 
near her room and the joy on his face when he learned of her 
cancer's remission.  If Skinner had ever doubted what Mulder's 
weakness was, he need only recall the young agent's face as 
Mulder contemplated nearly shooting Scully in the confusion.  The 
difference this time was that he saw the recognition of it in 
Mulder's eyes as well.  He suspected that Mulder was grasping that 
he was in love with Scully.  The loss of her then, especially at his 
own hands, was enough to bring him to his knees.  Mulder also 
must have known that Modell's sister had been able to read his 
vulnerability clearly enough to play it.  He had no doubt felt 
suddenly exposed.  

Skinner had suspected their feelings for quite some time.  He knew 
that Scully's cool facade rarely slipped except where Mulder was 
concerned.  She was like a barometer for him to read on the state 
of Mulder's welfare.  Mulder unquestionably had given all of his 
trust and protection to her in return. So this partnership continued 
on some delicate balance that appeared to indicate that there was 
either denial or fear that prevented further proclamations between 
them.  At least that was how he saw it for himself.  More than once 
he had received mild complaints on his desk from subordinates 
who questioned the propriety of their relationship.  Even the agents 
he had recently sent them with on a training seminar appeared to 
raise an eyebrow about the "closeness" of the two.  Always when 
Skinner had questioned the offended parties further, however, no 
one could say specifically that agents Scully and Mulder had ever 
demonstrated any misconduct.  Of course he was not surprised.  If 
he were honest he would hail the two of them as the best agents in 
the bureau, especially in light of the strength they formed in 
balancing their opposing styles - pragmatism and romanticism 
dancing together in delicate precision.

He knew what the others picked up on as he recalled watching 
Mulder bend close to Scully at numerous meetings and crime 
scenes as he talked to her.  He was aware of the intimate touches 
that Mulder saved only for his partner and the secret 
communication that transpired between them often in long glances.  
He also recognized the evolution of male/female partnerships as 
well.  Most mixed partners had sex stereotyped behavior that 
seemed to carry over into their relationships, and it was a hard line 
to draw between what was predictable behavior and what was 
impropriety.  Mulder and Scully were unmarried and seemingly 
unattached, and, like many mixed teams, they had fallen into a 
quasi-marital response with one another.   Hell, that vampire case 
in Texas was a perfect example of how those two could stand 
together against unbelievable scenarios while bantering back and 
forth like two spouses.  Still, he believed that any deeper feelings 
between them had never been allowed to interfere with the work 
before them.  

Skinner mindlessly skimmed his memos while thinking about 
Mulder's unspoken realization of his feelings for Scully.  Was that 
somehow going to inhibit him from thinking clearly when she was 
at his side now?  He hoped to God it wouldn't.  He would loath 
being the one to separate them again.  He also felt a secret dread, 
for he knew that Mulder's weakness made it easier for their 
enemies to harm them.  If he could read it then there was no doubt 
that the men inside this government conspiracy would soon know 
as well.

Irritated, by his train of thought, Skinner shoved his papers roughly 
aside.  He needed to seek out Andrews and Sidney himself to put a 
little pressure on their search.  He had a bad feeling about this 
absence.   The Assistant Director expelled another angry sigh, and 
headed for his office door.  Where were Andrews and Sidney 
anyway?  Sitting with these thoughts at his desk right now was not 
productive.       


Shelter
3:40 PM

"There's a cabin ahead!" he shouted.  Mulder glanced at his 
partner's tiny form beside him, the cry of relief ripping out of his 
mouth.  She gazed out of her hooded parka with a pinched face, 
nearly beyond reaction at this point in their trek in this snowstorm.  
He felt his stomach tense as he allowed himself to contemplate 
how close to freezing she might be, and involuntarily tightened his 
arm around her nearly dragging her ahead to the cabin entrance.  
The generous porch ran the length of the cabin's front, although it 
was now covered in the blowing snowdrifts.  The windows 
appeared dark with no sign of smoke from the stone chimney.  
Scully did her best to mount the steps with him although her legs 
had felt heavy and numb for a long time now.  She wanted to close 
her eyes and stop caring about the cold, but her eyes flew open at 
Mulder's insistent knocking on the door.  When there was no 
answer he tried the knob, then drew his weapon and fired on the 
lock.  The door gave easily under his weight, and Scully found 
herself pulled inside, once again under his protective arm.  Part of 
her thought she should stand on her own, but she was too weary to 
protest.  They had been walking for an eternity she believed.  
Having kicked the door closed Mulder stood hugging her against 
him as he stood breathing in gasps, surveying the dimly lit room.  
There were windows all around that offered the last illumination of 
the gray afternoon sky.  In less than an hour there would be total 
darkness.  Absently rubbing Scully's back as if to warm her he 
noted to fireplace with ample wood supply, and overstuffed 
furniture placed around it.  The downstairs room was open and 
rambled into a kitchen/dining area.  A stairway led up to a loft 
floor that appeared to be another den area, although it could not be 
completely viewed from his vantagepoint.  Quickly his attention 
turned again to Scully who stood leaning against him quietly 
shaking.  

"Scully?" he breathed lifting her chin to study her face.  She still 
looked winded, and could not control her chattering teeth though 
she was trying very hard to.

"I'm fine," she mumbled predictably with a dull expression.  "I 
juss needa cash my breath."  She shoved herself away from him a 
bit but he noticed her unsteadiness that accompanied her slurred 
words.  She was no longer leaning on his chest but had not released 
his arms as his hands continued to hold her by the shoulders.  He 
knew that she was avoiding his gaze, which meant she was feeling 
more vulnerable and afraid than she cared to own up to.  He was 
worried about her as he observed her shallow breathing.  She was 
so small these days despite the remission of her cancer, and the 
cold was no doubt taking its toll on her.  She began to tug at her 
coat as if to remove it but he restrained her hands, causing her to 
sag back against him.

"Don't. Let me get us a fire here and then we'll get thawed out," he 
directed, gently depositing her on the floor before joining her.  He 
pulled off her boots like undressing a small child before removing 
his own, talking the whole time as if to distract her from his 
actions.  "You know we're damned lucky we found this place, and 
obscenely lucky that there's no wood to chop!"  He smiled at her 
drawing a slight curving of her mouth.  Satisfied, he pulled off his 
gloves and moved to the hearth.  The mantle held long matches 
and there was ample fire starter material with the woodpile.  
Laying the fire was quick work and his heart felt grateful as the dry 
wood flamed up easily.  Soon they would have warmth as opposed 
to smoldering disappointment.  Scully was rubbing her legs slowly 
as she watched him, having stayed where he had left her.  Mulder 
unzipped his coat and approached her.  

"Do they hurt?" he inquired stooping down beside her.

"Mmm," she nodded.  He eyed her considering the possibility of 
hypothermia.  Now what was the manual's procedure for treating 
someone for those symptoms?  

"Come over by the fire," he instructed as he lifted her to her feet.  
She seemed to wobble again and he found himself afraid to let her 
walk alone.  He frowned then swept her up into his arms without 
warning.

"Mulder!" she gasped weakly. 

"Shhh!" he scolded.  He sat her down on the floor in front of the 
fire and studied her closely.  She was much more exhausted than 
she wanted him to know.  "I want to see if there are candles before 
the light is all gone."  He left her briefly to search the kitchen, 
while she studied the fire feeling somewhat dazed.

"This is a nice place," he commented from the other side of the 
room as he fortified the front door with a wooden chair from the 
dining table.  "I wonder if its owners are gone long.  It doesn't look 
like it sits empty long, and it's pretty up to date."  He looked back 
at her briefly to check on her before continuing his search.  In the 
back of his mind he was formulating a plan.

"Scully!  This place is amazing!  There are water fixtures and there 
is water!"  He called.  She pondered this tidbit with some 
confusion.

"Scully, there are baseboard registers along the floor of this room!  
Can it be that there is some sort of heating system?"  He was 
instantly searching the room while she watched him dully.  Surely 
there was no furnace here.  "Here's the thermostat!" he called to 
her as he turned it up from its very low setting.  Immediately the 
baseboard fixtures began to rattle with the sounds of flowing 
water.  "Must be hot water heat, but how." His voice trailed off 
as he rejoined her. ."  Scully could see him returning with a glass 
jar in one hand, and a kitchen towel in his other, but could only 
stare somewhat dumbly.   "Maybe solar units utilizing a natural 
water supply?  I've read about some naturalists who generate their 
own utilities.  We didn't cover that much ground today, and you 
know we were too many miles from anything civilized to really 
explain the conveniences.  I seem to remember that there was this 
guy who retired from the bureau a while back who built a house 
like this in the Rockies with his wife.  It was totally solar."  He 
grabbed the matches as he spoke, lighting the candle that occupied 
the jar.  She watched him sniff it deeply then raise his eyebrows.  
"Nice."  He handed it to her and she looked at the label before 
smelling it in her trembling hands.

`Yankee, Sugared plums,' she read to herself.  "Thatz nice," she 
said aloud. She handed it back to him and almost dropped it.  
Silently she appreciated Mulder's ability to notice a candle scent.  
He was good that way, being both courageous but in many ways 
sensitive too.  Must be that FBI agent dash psychologist paradox 
she thought tiredly.

"Looks like our host enjoys candles so I think we'll have plenty of 
light and good atmosphere!  I don't think using any other lights is a 
good idea even if there 's electricity.  The less we advertise that 
we're here the better."  He sat the candle on a nearby end table, and 
shed his jacket.  He could feel the fire some now and while his skin 
still felt deadly cold he was also beginning to feel the wetness of 
clothes.  Scully tried with no success to tug off her jacket, 
grumbling a bit when Mulder gently moved her hands to unzip and 
remove the coat for her.  She gave a shiver as he laid it across her 
legs, and began rubbing her hair with the kitchen towel.

"Scully, I'm worried that you may be experiencing some 
hypothermia," he admitted looking her in the eyes seriously.  She 
stared at him thinking this over.

"We sh-should probbly find d-dry clothes, Muller," she observed 
in her slurred but clinical voice.  He nodded.

"I think there is a room upstairs where I can look for some."  He 
paused a second holding her eyes.  "Scully, you're going to have to 
let me help you though."  She blinked slowly as if weighing his 
words, then nodded wearily.   "Good.  Now try to walk with me.  
Let's get some blood pumping in you."  He helped her up and she 
awkwardly leaned on him.  Together they slowly ascended the 
stairs in the growing darkness, Mulder balancing the candle in one 
hand while holding up Dana with his other arm.  The loft was a 
comfortable room with lounge furniture at the front of the area and 
a large rustic bed near the other end.  A doorway led into one last 
chamber at the far back of the room.  Mulder guessed it was a 
bathroom.  Near the bed they could make out large armoire and a 
nightstand.  Mulder eased Scully into a chair before investigating 
the armoire's contents.  To his disappointment there were more 
blankets and linens instead of clothing, however, as he opened one 
of the drawer compartments he found neatly folded stacks of satiny 
white material.  Pulling the garment from the drawer he realized he 
was holding a pajama top.  Tossing it to the bed he emptied out the 
remaining contents which proved to be the bottoms for the shirt 
and a matching larger set of pajamas. 
 
"His and hers, Scully," he quipped absently.  "I have a feeling our 
refuge may be a little get away, like a time share or something for 
the couple who wants privacy."  He turned to her holding the 
satin P.J.'s up with a mischievous look.  She eyed him skeptically.

"N-not too w-warm," she chattered back.  He shook his head in 
agreement.

"True, but nevertheless much drier," he replied.  "Come on.  Time 
to get personal."  Mulder dropped the nightclothes on the chair arm 
and watched Scully start to struggle with the hem of her sweater.  
The routine movements seemed so hard for her to coordinate.  
Once again Mulder checked off his symptom list for hypothermia, 
sighing.

"Let me help," he said quietly.  She let a long breath out but 
acquiesced as he slipped the sweater the rest of the way over her 
head.  He leaned in and reached behind her back, deftly 
unfastening her bra and sighing when she shot him her famous 
raised eyebrow.  

"No wet layers," he stated, "I remember the handbook."  He picked 
up the night shirt, pausing a moment before looking her dead in the 
eyes before reaching for the garment that now loosely covered her 
chest.  Their eyes remained locked as he slid it off her shoulders, 
running a hand down her right arm first to remove it from the bra, 
repeating his action again on her left side.  Her lips trembled 
slightly, and his expression softened as he recognized her 
vulnerability.  He helped her arms into the shirt gently, allowing 
her to pull the front closed over her breasts before looking down at 
her to button the buttons.  Her skin was tantalizing against his 
fingertips, as was sight of the valley between her breasts that he 
was covering.

"Stand up, Scully," he commanded when he was done, thinking 
that this was the tricky part.  "Hold onto my neck," he instructed as 
he placed her arms over his shoulders.

"Mul.Mulderrr.. I." she started to quietly protest.  He 
hesitated looking at her pensively before touching his fingers to her 
lips.

"Shhh. You can shoot me tomorrow," he smiled.  "Your aim should 
be better then anyway."  Her expression was one of reluctant 
gratitude.  Part of her knew Mulder well enough to know he would 
not take advantage of her weakened state, although another part of 
her was beyond caring at the moment.  He unfastened her jeans 
then allowed her to lean against him as he slid his hands down the 
sides of each hip, his thumbs catching the clothing to pull it down.  
He would have been lying if he denied ever wondering what it 
would be like to perform this act on Scully, albeit under different 
circumstances.  He noticed that the pajama top was large on her, 
hanging low enough for modesty on one end while dangling 
loosely at the top to reveal her small shoulder and the slope of one 
breast.  Easing her back down on the chair he pushed aside his 
growing interest in her body, and tugged off the pants smoothly.  
In a moment he had her feet inside the pajama bottoms, and was 
lifting her back to her feet.  When he shifted he to his left arm to 
free his right-hand to pull up the garment, he felt his left hand 
cup her breast inadvertently.  While he occupied himself with the 
pants he kept thinking about how nice she felt to him.  Stop it, 
Mulder, he thought.  He shifted her again and eased the pants up to 
her waist, before carrying her to the bed and depositing her under 
the covers.  She pulled the comforter up around her chin still trying 
to suppress the trembling lips.

"You change, M.. Mulder," she urged him.  "You're c-cold, too.  
We need to w-warm ourselles."  He nodded before padding off to 
the chair.  He was stripping off his shirt as she lay watching him, 
and it occurred to her that she had rarely seen his lean body except 
in times of illness or injury.  She considered that she should 
probably turn her head out of courtesy when he began unfastening 
his pants, but she was too tired to move.   Clinically speaking, she 
had seen much more of him than one might expect of partners, but 
when she was a doctor.  Some part of her mind acknowledged the 
view of his derriere as he dropped his pants and donned the pajama 
bottoms.  Most of her mind was becoming preoccupied with a 
growing sense that she was starting to freeze again.  She pondered 
this phenomenon idly deciding that Mulder was right about the 
hypothermia.  Through the fogginess of her mind she sorted 
through the basic treatment for exposure to the cold.  Mulder was 
correct to try to get her to walk upstairs to stimulate her muscles 
and to remove all wet layers.  Foods, carbohydrates, warm liquids, 
and external heat sources - a fire, and body to body contact with a 
normothermic person wearing lightweight, dry clothing. 

Mulder was standing next to the bed now wearing the shimmering 
pajamas.  They looked incongruent with his personality.  He ran a 
warm hand along her face and brushed back her hair.  He had been 
aware of her watching him dress but felt somehow undisturbed.  
Sometimes he forgot that there was any separation between them.  
In so many ways their lives had become one shared life, no less 
committed and stormy than most marriages he knew of.  He had 
nothing to hide from her or to feel shame about.  She had argued 
with him and questioned him, but always respected and accepted 
him for who he was.

"I'm going to get some of these blankets downstairs by the fire 
where it's warmer, and see if I can't find us some food, Scully," he 
explained while Scully mentally commended his treatment 
procedures.  He threw off the comforter and crossed the room, 
tossing it easily over the loft railing and onto the floor below.  "Up 
you go girl," he said as he returned to her.  He hoisted her to her 
feet walking her to the stairway, then grunted to himself, sweeping 
her back up into his arms as he descended.  Scully faintly recalled 
that no one had carried her since she was a little girl and that had 
been her father.  Now she rested in Mulder's arms like a child 
again.  Absently she wondered if Ahab would've approved of 
Mulder's protectiveness of the youngest Scully daughter.  
Somehow she doubted that he would've have been so unforgiving 
toward Mulder as her brother Bill had been.

Mulder settled her in front of the fire and wrapped her in a blanket.  
For the first time she noticed his hands were trembling.  Startled, 
she reached out and grabbed his in her own hands tightly.

"Mulder!  You're freezing, too!"  She tugged him toward herself 
weakly, but he resisted.  

"Not yet,' he patted her.  "Let me find some food and then we'll 
work on staying warm."  He hurried away to the kitchen returning 
with a pan holding a slab of bread, a block of creamy cheese, and a 
bottle of wine with two cups.

"I know that the wine is not good for helping hold body heat," he 
apologized, "but there aren't many choices in there."  She nodded 
as he sat the tray in front of her.  

"Here, I'll stir the fire."  Watching him move to the hearth she 
shakily broke the bread and cheese in hunks onto the tray.   He did 
not hesitate to join her under the blanket when he was done with 
the fire, moving very close against her as he wearily expelled his 
breath.  He then poured the wine into the cups, handing her one.

"Ugh!  I feel so helpless!" she complained handing him some food.

"You know it will pass when you get warm enough," he nodded.  
"Let's just hope for no related illnesses."   She drank deeply, 
before nibbling at her food.  Mulder ate his hungrily, drinking the 
wine slowly while he studied the fire first and then the room 
quietly.  When he finished his food he slid an arm around her again 
and pulled her close to his side. 

"Do you think we are safe here?"  She ventured, not looking at 
him.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.  "I'm guessing that we've 
been left to die rather than trying to pursue us in the snow.  Even 
though this cabin looks like it's regularly used it may be that the 
storm is preventing the occupants from returning.  Still, I'm hoping 
we'll have help sooner than later."

"Mulder, I'm not sure if there was a craft that someone didn't want 
us to find or if there never was one and someone wanted us out of 
the way."  She sighed and absently placed her hand over his.

"Yeah.  I'd rather believe it was the first options and not the latter, 
although any sign of what was there is no doubt long 
gone," he replied looking down at her.  "You sound better.  The 
food must be helping."  He did not add that he wished she had 
eaten more.  She looked up at him quietly with one of her 
unreadable looks, thinking she felt mixed feelings about their 
resent closeness.  His body was invitingly warm, and she felt 
unable to resist leaning against him.  It was the first promise of 
being warm again that she had experienced in many hours, not to 
mention the odd sense of security that accompanied it.  She noticed 
that his face looked very tired and lined, and wondered if the stress 
had kept him going to the expense of his body.

"Mulder, you look tired," she told him.  He nodded once again and 
turned his eyes to the fire.  For a moment he was silent.  

"I am reminded of a trip to the woods minus some matches and a 
sleeping bag, although on that occasion we were being supervised 
by a moss man," he said with dry humor.  "I had not planned to be 
saying this to you this morning, Agent Scully, but I sincerely hope 
you're planing to sleep with me tonight.  This time I am truly 
freezing my ass off."

"Body to body contact in a sleeping bag with a normothermic 
person wearing lightweight, dry clothing," she quoted with a wry 
smile.  "Do you usually resort to FBI emergency guidelines to pick 
up women?"

"I find it highly useful," he grinned.  "It's also useful to use the 
bureau's regs as a defense.  I would hope that dealing with 
hypothermia would not be considered `consorting' with my female 
partner while on a case."  She could feel the effects of the alcohol 
on her already depleted system as she stared at him with hazy eyes.  
She was willing to sort out this more fully tomorrow.  All she 
knew was that tonight she wanted to sleep peacefully and warmly.  
Right now she felt like she could crawl inside Mulder's skin and 
still not be warm enough. Maslow's hierarchy of needs, she mused.  
Tonight she would indulge in finding warmth and consider her 
pride tomorrow.

"I don't think we'll die, but we could become very sick if we don't 
stay warm," she commented smiling but feeling serious.  No cell 
phones and little chance of being traced could leave them out of 
reach from adequate medical care too long should things get 
worse.

"In that case, ma'am, how `bout we try to get some sleep in that 
bed that is calling my name."  He stood up and held out his hand to 
her, leaving her suddenly feeling relieved and shy at the same time.  

"Okay, but your ass is mine if you try to hold this over my head 
any time in the future!"  His only response was a wicked gleam in 
his eyes as she took his hand and let him help her up the stairs.  
The candlelight greeted them warmly in the loft.

"I think I would like to live in a place like this," he commented.  

"Although I would put it just a tad bit closer to town."  She smiled 
and nodded as he deposited her at the bathroom door. 

He quickly went back and retrieved the blanket, leaving her to the 
bathroom momentarily.  She hurried to avoid having him feel 
obligated to help her in some way, but smiled as he retrieved her 
right on cue outside the door to help her to slide under the 
bedcovers.   Once he arranged the bed to his satisfaction he 
extinguished the candle, and made for the bathroom himself.  She 
laid there thinking about other times they had shared rooms during 
their travels, but this was the first time she had lain awaiting him to 
lay beside her at the end of a harrowing day.  Her mind felt 
jumbled with conflicting thoughts and emotions.  In the darkness 
he returned and crawled under the blankets and reached for her 
automatically.  He did not speak as he pulled her half onto himself, 
letting her cheek rest on his bare chest.  The pajama top had not 
suited him anyway she mused silently.  She could feel his hands 
absently stroking her back, and had she not been completely 
exhausted she might have started to cry from the shear pleasure of 
being caressed.  It had been so long since she had felt cherished by 
anyone, and in her weariness she could almost imagine that Mulder 
felt this way for her.

Mulder was very aware of the woman he was holding, feeling 
thankful that he was too tired to act on the sensual burn beginning 
to grow in his groin. A little voice in his head reminded him that 
she was definitely unique, and there was no question that this FBI 
man would not likely be curled up with any other partner this way, 
hypothermia or not.  Scully was everything to him, but he could 
not afford to entertain the forbidden fruit that could ultimately 
destroy their partnership. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, 
for a moment pretending he was any other man just lying down in 
his little home with his wife nestled safe in his arms.  This was a 
small pleasure he could allow himself for a night he thought before 
drifting off into nothingness. 

Washington D.C.
10:00 PM

The heavy man answered the phone as he held a restraining hand 
up to his business associate.  Silence fell over the interior of the 
limousine, as his companion complied, watching him.  He felt 
disdain for the expressionless bastard as he watched him breathing 
into the cell phone, relatively sure he knew what the caller would 
be sharing.  When the call was finished he raised a speculative 
eyebrow.

"And did they arrive at our intended destination?" he queried with 
his perfect enunciation.  The fat man nodded an assent.

"We can complete our plan as scheduled.  Mulder has proven to be 
as resourceful as ever," he replied.  "His unfortunate discovery of 
the alien rebel will soon be dealt with."  The thin, elegantly dressed 
man pondered this quietly.  He and his undesirable companion 
were growing older, tied together by years of mutual projects 
destined to subverted from the knowledge of the mainstream.  He 
wondered if he still believed in his mission anymore, although it 
mattered very little.  At this point in his life it had become a 
question of survival; survival from the colonists, the rebels and his 
ruthless associates.  

"We must be careful to execute the final phase," he said at last.

"Don't worry.  Mulder and his partner will provide the missing 
ingredient if given enough time."

"You had better be right," shot the well-manicured man.  The two 
eyed eachother in stony silence as the sleek, black car passed the 
Washington Monument nearby, on its way to the White House.  
Suddenly it abruptly swerved to the side of the road and halted, 
much to the surprise of the two men.  Before they could respond to 
this unexpected event, the car door swung open, revealing a dark 
figure.

"Good evening gentlemen," greeted the intruder with mock cheer 
before taking a long drag on his Morley.  The cigarette glowed 
brightly at the two dumbfounded occupants of the car drawing a 
sneering laugh from the smoker.  "I thought perhaps you might be 
able to spare a ride for an old..friend."  

"You!" spat the heavy man as the smoker slid into the car 
unruffled.  He continued to smoke with an icy smile on his face, 
enjoying the unusual display of emotion on his host's face.
 
"You're probably surprised to see me," He shared with delight.  "I 
trust you heard about my recent misfortune." 

"What is it that you want?" asked the well-manicured man calmly 
ignoring his outraged companion.   Cancerman raised his eyebrows 
as if surprised.

"Why, what I've always wanted.  What we have always wanted," 
he replied pleasantly.  "I realize that I have been away since that 
miscalculated gunshot, so I have not helped out as I should." He 
paused to take another long drag on his smoke before speaking 
again.

"Mulder has been most useful in promoting the selective 
information you have desired, not to mention the 
more concrete...contributions of his lovely partner," He 
continued.  "Now I am to believe that you see him as too close to 
the truth, and a danger to your goals.  This is not true, though.  
Your plan is too short sighted."

"What do you know of our plans?" demanded the large man 
shifting his eyes briefly to his ally next to him.

This drew another satisfied smile from the smoking man as he 
blew out a blue cloud leisurely.

"Come now!  Surely you must know that I would not be here had I 
not found solace for my injustices from those in your own 
organization," he mocked.  "I am told that you need a shorter leash 
which they intend to provide."   It was the well-manicured man's 
turn to widen his eyes.  Could it be true that this smoking snake 
had found a method to contain this overweight menace?  He felt 
his interest growing suddenly.

"And what would you propose we do?" He asked Cancerman with 
glittering eyes.  His guest inhaled his last puff, and smiled widely.  
Everything was going as he had predicted.

The Cabin
1:40 AM

Mulder stirred in his sleep groggily becoming aware of the extreme 
arousal he felt.  Another erotic dream about Scully he hoped.  His 
hand was moving lazily over the warm breasts of the woman who 
lay with her back to him, having found its way under the loose 
satin shirt.  He was lying pressed up against her back, his erection 
pressing into her tiny bottom through the thin material of his 
pajamas.  The satin crawled over him sensually adding to his desire 
as he buried his face in the soft red hair on Scully's head.  Sleepily 
he wondered how she had come to be in his bed, while he 
continued to gently tease her erect nipples with his fingers.   Small 
sounds were coming from her now and to his delight she rubbed 
her bottom against him firmly while placing a hand over his arm 
draped busily around her middle.  He always loved this dream.

Scully was vaguely aware of the pleasurable feeling that was 
creating a tingling and very wet sensation between her legs.  She 
was dreaming that Mulder's hand was caressing her - inviting her 
to love him, as she became aware of his arousal moving against her 
behind.  It felt good to have him want her; her own need for him 
was so strong.  She slid her hand up over his and directed it into 
the waistband of her pants, pressing his fingers into her wetness.  It 
had been too long since she had been made love to.

"Scully," he gasped hardly audible and slurred from sleepy desire.  
He began to move his fingers deftly causing her to moan and push 
her hips forward.  He breathed her name again into her ear hotly, 
becoming more awake.  A shudder passed through him as he began 
to realize she was really there with him, knowing he felt both 
afraid of what he was doing as well as incredibly pleased.  Was she 
awake enough to understand what she was inviting him to do? 

Scully fought the desire to come as he touched her slowly realizing 
that the sensations she was feeling were very real.  Confused about 
how she had found herself in bed with him, the vulnerability of her 
sleepiness was allowing her desire for him to spill out.  Mulder 
was not an uncommon visitor to her arousing dreams, although in 
her waking hours she generally fought the admission that she 
would think of him in such a way.  Now he lay beside her kissing 
her neck warmly, pushing her pajamas down over her hips.  She 
rolled over on her back, to be immediately covered by him, his lips 
hot from sleep seeking hers.  The kiss was soft and moist at first, 
and then he hungrily thrust his tongue into her mouth while he ran 
his hands through her hair.  Scully wrapped her arms around his 
neck and pressed closer to him.  She kissed him with the force of a 
woman who had been holding back her desire for too damned long, 
the floodgates finally opening.  Somewhere in the back of his mind 
Mulder was tantalized by the cool Dr. Scully's capacity for 
passion.  He had always believed her to be this way despite her 
clinical demeanor.  It pleased him to be the one destroying her 
composure.

"Scully," he whispered.  "Let me please you."  Before she could 
answer he was undoing her shirt trailing hot kisses across her 
chest, finally exposing her nipples to his probing mouth.  Scully 
gasped blissfully, tangling her hands in his hair.  She ran her hand 
just under his waistband, unable to reach him, but he shifted in 
response to bring his throbbing penis to her hand.  He groaned at 
her touch and thrust against her fingers for more, while he returned 
his fingers to her hot center.  They continued to touch one another 
more aggressively as each felt more aroused by the other.  Mulder 
had kicked of his bottoms, and was kissing Scully's breasts again.  
She felt she would not be able to wait despite a part of her that had 
always fantasized that if they ever made love it would be slow and 
deliberate.  This was incredibly hot and out of control.  Mulder 
broke away from her touch and ran his tongue over her clitoris 
skillfully.  She nearly came and had to force him from her as she 
breathed raggedly.  He had turned in such a way that his penis was 
near her face, and impulsively she caught him in her mouth, 
drawing a gasp from him.  They lay there teasing one another, 
growing more vigorous as their own arousal grew out of what was 
being done to them.

"God, Mulder!  I want you!" she groaned huskily at last drawing a 
smile as he planted a kiss on her belly.  "Make love to me," she 
groaned again rubbing her hands over his head.  He was already 
pulling her pants the rest of the way off as she spoke.  Didn't she 
know he had no intention of denying her?  He felt his control had 
slipped beyond stopping long ago, and his sole mission was to join 
with her the way he believed they had been wanting to for so very 
long.  Damn the consequences!  He was not going to lose the 
chance to make her know what she meant to him at last.  

He thrust into her easily.  She was wet because of him he thought 
happily.  She moaned and clung to him, kissing his neck greedily.  
They moved together in the ancient dance of lovers until they at 
last found blinding release.  Scully felt as if she had shattered into 
a million pieces giving him her all to have him follow shuddering 
against her.  She had cried out hearing him gasp out her name at 
the same time.  She had head him call to her on so many occasions 
under all types of circumstances, but had never thought she would 
hear her name torn from him in such passion.

He lay against her heavily, spent and breathing shallowly. One 
hand stoked her hair gently.  Absently, she ran her fingers across 
his back trying to decide what to say to him.  Everything seemed 
so trite and unnecessary.  She knew two things clearly.  One was 
that Mulder had made love to her because of what she meant to 
him as surely as she had given herself to him for the same reason.  
The second was that if they talked they would have to have the 
dreaded conversation about what happens next.  She was loath to 
think of it yet, as he also must be judging from his silence.  For a 
while they cuddled until she got up unsteadily to go to the 
bathroom at last.  

When she returned to the bed she hesitated a moment in the 
moonlight, suddenly unsure of him, but he quickly held out his 
hand to her.  She allowed him to pull into his arms again, 
remembering she had fallen asleep this way only hours before.  He 
was caressing her back again, and this time she relished the 
knowledge that he cherished her.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Scully," he said softly, then added, "I do 
love you."

"I know," she answered running her fingers across his chest 
thoughtfully.  "I love you, too."  Neither spoke again but lay awake 
considering this turn of events carefully.  It was much later before 
either of them slept again.


Southern Canada / Day Four
8:00 AM

The man in the lab coat peered into the microscope barely 
breathing as he examined the petri dish contents.  Cell division was 
evident, causing the man to expel a sigh as he allowed himself to 
relax.  He had not doubted his skill in performing this task, of 
course, it was all very basic. There was more tension residing in 
him from the pressure his employer was placing on him, which 
naturally trickled down from the powers above.  This particular 
assignment strayed from his usual routine, though, and its long-
range affects were unclear.  He thought of the woman he had 
probed for the biologicals, recognizing her from before.  He had 
tried not to think of her tiny, vulnerable appearance lying there 
unaware on the examining table, and coaxed himself into thinking 
that this act he would perform might undo his former damage.  
Twice in a lifetime she had unwittingly crossed his path - two 
times more than he imagined she would have chosen.  He sighed 
suddenly saddened.  Five years ago he would not have believed in 
this secret government that seemed to have been birthed around the 
second world war.  Some of the players and their particular covers 
had no doubt changed throughout recent history, but their function 
had insidiously remained intact.  Whatever the date or the game 
one could be assured that these individuals would be deciding the 
fate for the nation as innocent people slept unaware in their beds, 
imagining safety for their children.  The scientist sighed again 
somewhat sadly.  Not even he could conceive of what his superiors 
had done, nor was he sure he wanted to understand it completely.  
He always had a sickening feeling in his stomach that threatened to 
overtake him if he allowed too much thought about the deviance he 
had been a part of.

"Is it ready?" came the unexpected question from the doorway.  
Dr. Manning stepped away from the microscope anxiously as if the 
other man had read his thoughts.  The older gentleman just stood 
there eyeing him, inhaling deeply on his smoke.  He held it for a 
speculative moment before slowly breathing it out again.

"Yes, yes I have it just now," replied the scientist hurriedly.  "Is 
the woman ready?"

"Everything is set, Dr.," he nodded slightly.  "Time is of the 
essence and there must be no mistakes."  Dr. Manning glanced 
involuntarily at the small dish, shaking his head.

"All right," he agreed.  "We can proceed."  

"Very good, Dr.," smiled the smoking man as he gestured the way 
through the doorway.  Cautiously covering the dish, Dr. Manning 
exited the room as his companion had instructed.  He hoped to God 
that there were no complications as the other man followed behind 
him like a predator.  It had come down to a question of survival for 
him really.  He would survive and she would serve an involuntary 
purpose.  He knew secretly, however, that should his work succeed 
this purpose might help others to survive as well.  He was careful 
not to smile as he arrived at his destination.  So much depended on 
his ability to remain serene.


D.C. Area Hospital / Day Five
12:00 PM 

Mulder opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the bright florescent 
light that invaded them sharply.  His mouth felt numb and pasty 
causing him to swallow hard, while he rolled his head slowly from 
side to side heavily.  It was a struggle to make sense of the 
sensations and sights beginning to filter into his mind.  Where was 
he?

"Agent Mulder!" Boomed Skinner at his bedside.  "Glad to see 
you're still among the living!"  Mulder turned his eyes to focus on 
his supervisor's slight smile, licking his lips with effort before 
replying.

"Where am I, sir?" he asked in a scratchy whisper that sounded 
odd to his own ears.

"You're under medical care for your stint in the cold, Mulder, 
although I don't know what in the hell you and Scully thought you 
were doing up there!"  Skinner tried to appear angry, but the 
younger man could read the assistant director's relief to see him.  
The reference to Scully, however, nagged at him.  There was 
something...

"Where is Scully?"  He asked anxiously.  If only he could 
remember.

"She's fine.  She's right next door still asleep," he answered.  "You 
both were recovered from the Northwest Territory early this 
morning, and flown in for emergency treatment.  You're lucky the 
two of you didn't freeze to death!"  Mulder considered this 
carefully as pieces of memories eluded him.  He did remember that 
he and Scully had been fleeing someone, and that there had been a 
snowstorm.

"What were you looking for, Agent Mulder?"  Queried Skinner 
now more business-like as his initial concern faded.  Mulder shook 
his head frowning.

"I received an anonymous tip about a potential alien craft that was 
uncovered at that location.  We had suspicions that it might be a 
set-up, but by whom I have no idea."  Mulder sighed, rubbing his 
hand over his forehead.  "Our pilot was apparently blown up, and 
we had to escape.  Everything is pretty fuzzy after that. How did 
you say you found us?"  Skinner raised his eyebrows and tilted his 
head to one side.

"I had sent a couple of operatives out to find you, and we were 
able to trace you to Canada," he replied then shrugged.  "Before 
we could get an exact fix on your location you were picked up by a 
local rescue team that was working the area for snow emergency 
services.  Apparently there are some naturalists who homestead in 
that area, occasionally needing evacuation during avalanche 
threats."  Mulder's frown deepened while he rolled this 
information around in his cloudy mind.  He was about to comment 
when the nurse appeared to beckon Skinner.

"The young woman appears to be coming around," she informed 
him, causing Skinner to rise to his feet.

"I need to check on Scully," he told Mulder briefly.  "We'll talk 
more when you're up to it."  Mulder watched Skinner's retreating 
back, biting his lower lip between his teeth absently.  He wanted to 
go to Scully himself, feeling suddenly more protective than ever, 
but the sight of the IVs attached to his arm deterred him.  There 
was something else, also - something he couldn't quite name that 
was holding him back.  It didn't seem to ring true to him as he 
thought about Skinner's explanation of their rescue, but then he 
felt drugged by whatever treatment he was receiving.  Even the act 
of holding his eyelids seemed taxing to him, so he allowed them to 
slide shut.  He felt himself begin to drift off again involuntarily, his 
thoughts growing more jumbled.  The last conscious thought he 
had was a vision of Scully appearing at his bedside with the 
moonlight gleaming on her beautiful bare skin. 



Day Six
5:00 PM

Scully sighed sadly as she pulled off her coat and flung it over the 
chair near her desk.  She gazed around her apartment wistfully 
thinking that it usually held a sense of peaceful refuge for her.  
Tonight, however, it seemed cold and empty.  She and Mulder had 
left the hospital nearly an hour ago, after they had completed the 
routine tests to show their fitness for release.  She still felt lethargic 
as if she had been drugged, but her chart had not indicated the 
introduction of narcotics for her treatment.  To her medical mind 
the whole thing seemed odd, considering the fact that they had 
supposedly been discovered poorly sheltered from the cold on 
some hillside, hardly conscious.  She would have expected more 
damage from the cold, and felt irritated by her lack of memories 
regarding the last events prior to their rescue.  The ride home had 
been oddly quiet, as a bureau designee in an unmarked sedan 
escorted them to their homes. They had agreed that their 
circumstance was due to the actions of some unknown party, but 
had not continued to debate the details since neither of them felt 
they had command over what had eventually happened.  Although 
having already expressed his concern for her earlier, she had 
caught Mulder looking at her thoughtfully more than once during 
the ride.  She had had an unusual desire to lean against his chest 
and weep at one point, which left her feeling uneasy.  Then, when 
they had pulled up in front of her apartment, she had slipped out of 
the car hurriedly, offering a clipped goodbye.  She felt relieved to 
be parting with him and yet strangely saddened at the same time.  

Unaware that she had released another long sigh, Scully made her 
way to the bathroom.  When in doubt take a long bath she thought.  
She only hoped that she would not become too drowsy and fall 
asleep in the tub, as she began to run the steamy water, now 
scented with her favorite bath oil.  She stripped off the offending 
clothing and settled into water carefully, its heat prickling her skin 
at first.  She thought about her return from her snowy trip 
contemplating the warmth she had so craved a day before as she let 
her back sink against the shockingly cold surface of the tub behind 
her.  What was it that had happened she pondered intently.  She 
had been beyond caring about the cold, and she did remember 
trudging beside Mulder in the snow for ages.  Then the picture 
became unclear.  They were reported to have found some shelter in 
the rocks of the cliffs and huddled together staying warm until they 
had been discovered shortly afterwards.  This made no logical 
sense to her, but she also could not retrieve her own memories to 
offer a better explanation.

After her bath, Scully found her flannel gown and donned it 
happily, before seeking the warmth of her bed.  Some part of her 
seemed to retain the memory of the cold, and she longed for more 
warmth.  Her bed felt strange and cold tonight - more than usual.  
To her surprise she actually dropped off to sleep very quickly, but 
soon began to have restless dreams of her partner.  Mulder was 
kissing her and stroking her, and she was weeping as she called out 
his name over and over.  She awoke with a gasp, setting up in her 
bed startled.  Her mind was suddenly full of thoughts of Mulder, 
tending to her and making love to her in a quaint cabin in the 
mountains.  It seemed so vivid and yet how could this be?  Scully 
sat blinking away tears for the longest time as she sorted through 
these odd memories.  This must be a response to the trauma.  She 
was unable to remember the last 24 hours, and her mind must 
therefore be construing its own web of reality to fill the void.  But 
why Mulder?  Why this sexual fantasy?  She felt pricked by the 
guilt of knowing she entertained an attraction for him despite their 
friendship, and also felt worried that it appeared more active in her 
unconscious mind than she would've desired.  Lying back on her 
pillows and she rubbed her head wearily.  The clock said 12:15 am.  
It looked like the mandatory day off that Skinner had insisted on 
tomorrow would be a blessing after all.  Unexpectedly, the phone 
rang shrilly in the darkness, causing Dana to jump before reaching 
to answer it.

"Hello," she mumbled into the receiver, knowing it would be him.  

"It's me, Scully," breathed Mulder in a tired voice.  "Did I wake 
you?"  Scully sighed, staring into the darkness.

"No.I was awake again," she answered honestly.  "I keep having 
strange dreams."  Mulder was quiet for a moment as if weighing 
the meaning of her answer.

"Me, too," he offered finally.  "I still feel very confused about 
what happened to us.  I've been out for a drive trying to sort it 
out."

"I know, Mulder.  It just doesn't make sense to me," she said with 
frustration.  "What's going on here?" 

"I don't know, but I think it has to do with what we may or may 
not remember from our trip."  Neither of them spoke for a moment, 
each searching for something meaningful to add to this.  Mulder 
was the first to break the silence.

"Scully," he began tentatively.  "How tired are you?"  Dana 
crinkled her brow skeptically.

"Why, Mulder?" she demanded dryly.

"Well, I don't really want to get you up," he said slowly as she 
heard a suspicious noise in her living room, "and I hope you don't 
sleep naked.. well, let me just say that if you're naked it's fine 
with me, but I really don't want you to shoot me or anything."

"Mulder!?" she threatened as she sat up in bed to see a dark form 
moving to the bedroom doorway.

"Did I ever tell you how sexy you look in flannel?" he added into 
the cell phone as he came to stand at the foot of her bed.   Scully 
let the phone droop from her hand as she stared at him with her 
famous Scully glare.  Through the darkness he could sense her 
expression watching him as he pocketed his phone in his jacket, 
then slipped it off onto her bed.

"You're supposed to call first, Mulder, not as you're walking in 
the door," she instructed.  "What are you doing?"   She made a 
move to get up but he moved quickly to stop her from pulling the 
covers back.

"Don't," he whispered, his hand still clasping hers as he settled the 
blankets back against her.  She looked at him wordlessly with 
sudden confusion, his face now clear to her in the dim light from 
the street outside the bedroom window.  His expression was 
unusual, as if pleading with her in some way.

"We've known each other for a long time, Scully, and I think by 
now you know you can trust me."

"Mulder, why do I get the feeling I'm about to hear a cheap pick 
up line?" She asked sarcastically, trying to relieve the tension she 
was feeling.  What she expected was a typically witty come back 
from her partner, but what she got was an uncharacteristically 
deep, searching look, as he continued to stroke his thumb across 
her hand.

"I can't sleep and I can't turn off my brain tonight.  I don't want 
my misery to be yours, but I was beginning to feel like the only 
comfort I could get tonight was to be with you.  It's crazy I know 
but I haven't been able to shake it since I came around today in the 
hospital."  He spoke softly but emphatically, as Scully watched 
him intently.  Slowly she began shaking her head.

"I don't know what to say," she shrugged helplessly.  "I feel 
relieved that you're here, too, but in a confusing way," She 
gestured as she finished speaking allowing her hand to fall lightly 
against his chest.  He sat with his head bowed studying it art first 
without replying, then slowly kicked off his shoes.

"Scoot over," he said lifting the blankets and crawling in beside 
her.  He pulled her into his arms and sighed as he allowed himself 
to relax into the pillows.  So familiar he thought as he stroked her 
hair absently.  He wondered what she thought of his unusual 
behavior.  "I have been having flashes of a cabin in the mountains, 
Scully.  I keep thinking I have crossed some line with you in our 
relationship and now I don't know how to go back again."  He felt 
rather than heard her catch her breath.  Scully lay cradled against 
him warmly, realizing that her bed was no longer so cold or 
foreign.  She felt vulnerable and afraid while wanting to bury 
herself deeper.  When had she gone so soft for him she wondered?  
But then his words were shocking her.  How could he know her 
dreams?  Was it possible that they had actually violated that 
unspoken boundary?

"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.  He drew in a deep 
breath then expelled it heavily.

"I don't know," he answered tiredly.  "I can't really remember 
everything but it's like I somehow left with you as my partner and 
came back feeling like, like some kind of a lover."  He sighed 
heavily rubbing his forehead with his free hand.  "I'm sorry, 
Scully.  I don't mean to scare you.  I didn't come here to..."

"No, Mulder, don't explain," she interrupted.  "I'm confused but 
not afraid... well, at least not exactly."  She rolled onto her back 
beside him and stared at the ceiling.  "I have been having dreams 
about a cabin, too."  She paused and swallowed hard feeling 
Mulder's stare fasten onto her now as she spoke.

"Mulder, I, I'm having dreams about us.. sexual dreams that are 
very realistic."  She stopped and held her breath, not daring to look 
at him.  He did not move or speak either, frightening her more.

"Somehow if I told you I had fantasized about this moment, 
Scully, I doubt if you'd be inclined to believe me," he said finally 
with a fraction of his usual humor.  She tried to smile but failed.

"I would've hoped it to be more memorable," she tried to offer.  
Mulder lay in silence again, his arm still under her head, his hand 
toying with her sleeve.

"Well, either we have violated bureau policy, potentially 
jeopardizing our work together on the x-files, or we have been 
deceived in some way for an undisclosed purpose that may yet 
unfold," he concluded.  Scully immediately frowned.  

"Mulder, surely you can't believe that anyone would go to the 
trouble of planting memories in our minds about sex!  For what 
possible reason would anyone benefit from such a crazy thing?" 
she spat.  "It's just as possible that in response to our recent trauma 
we could be manufacturing some shared delusion based on 
primitive survival needs, not to mention our close friendship."  
Mulder's eyes softened as he looked at the woman beside him. He 
moved to lay on his side facing her, softly touching her face with 
his hand.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," he whispered.  Then he 
leaned over and covered her mouth tenderly with his own, savoring 
the sweet contact before reluctantly pulling away from her.  She 
had not protested, as if curious to know what truth his kiss might 
reveal about this situation.  She had not expected to be shaken by 
it, however.  

"I think I should go," he said softly.  He felt overcome by emotion 
and desire, and was deciding that he could not afford to stay so 
near to her - not yet.  "I think we need some time to sort this out.  
I'll try to do some checking into what we may have stumbled 
across."  Scully wanted to scream at him to stay but allowed her 
rational side to speak for her instead.

"Right.  Maybe I can retrace our rescue and turn up some leads in 
the morning," she replied solemnly.  She was sitting up in bed 
now, watching as he put on his shoes.   When he was done he 
reached for his jacket and turned back to face her.  For a brief 
moment he searched her eyes, then he tangled one hand through 
the back of her hair, pulling her towards him to kiss her one last 
time.  It was a hard and brief kiss, and he was suddenly out of the 
room before she could think of another thing to say.  She stared 
after him sadly, and realized her night was definitely shaping up to 
be sleepless. 

One Week Later

The tall, elegant man paced impatiently, shooting furtive looks at 
the entrance of bungalow.  He was cold, despite the fire that 
burned brightly in hearth, and he found himself rubbing his hands 
together in annoyance.  He was unaccustomed to be kept waiting, 
particularly by his intended companion.  There was a time when 
that smoking snake would not have dreamed to be so bold.  Now it 
was all changed, and while he tried to deny it his blood ran cold 
from the fear that was taking root as the colonists were being 
challenged.  The others were so complacent - so willing to be led, 
leaving him no alternative but to turn to Krychek as an uneasy ally.  
They were all fools, every one of them.  Perhaps too late he was 
realizing his need of Mulder, and, grudgingly, he had to admit that 
the smoking man had possibly been right. It had once seemed that 
the man's interest in Mulder had lost objectivity - that perhaps he 
gained some vicarious sense of pride in Mulder's persistent 
uncovering of the truth.  Now he could see that Mulder was one of 
the very few potential hopes left for maintaining the world as he 
knew it.  The man's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a soft 
knock on the door before it was opened.

"Hello again," greeted the new arrival, pulling his Morley from his 
lips.  

"You're late," sneered the older man.  The smoking man smiled 
and tilted his head.

"I'm here now, as you asked," he answered calmly.

"Yes, but of what benefit?  I wish to know about Mulder."  The 
well-enunciated man narrowed his eyes as he stared at his guest.  
He was disappointed to read little reaction.

"Mulder is well, and no doubt frustrated by now.  He will not find 
relief easily, as our plan has been well-concealed." 

"Will you go to him?"

"Soon," replied the smoking man pausing to inhale.  "It must be 
handled carefully so that there is little doubt."

"He is not ready to have the full implications of this event 
disclosed to him," stated the gray-headed man. "Are you certain 
that this experiment will succeed?"

"Dr. Manning is quite capable.  The organization should be pleased 
with the results."  The two men eyed one another for a silent 
moment, the one man smoking thoughtfully.  Finally the gray-
headed man broke the stony silence.

"I want to know what your intention is."  The smoking man 
chuckled, flicking the cigarette butt into the fire.

"My intention?" he asked.  "Perhaps the same as yours, and then 
again perhaps not.  I daresay that our route may be different 
although we share the same goal.  I have an investment in a future 
that protect us from extinction."  The well-enunciated man nodded with a grim 
smile.

"As do I.  Perhaps it is time that we find common ground."
The smoking man watched him thoughtfully, fairly sure he would 
never divulge his true plan for the sake of all involved.  It would be 
bad enough to have the risk of this alien rebellion becoming 
interested in his project, without the colonist becoming suspicious 
as well.  Thank God Mulder could persevere.  He pulled out 
another smoke and lit up.

"Perhaps."

The Bureau Basement / Week Seven
8:00 AM 

Scully sat leaning on the desk miserably, wishing she could right 
herself and go on with work this morning.  Almost seven weeks 
had passed already with no significant leads on the incident in 
Canada.  To top that off was the uneasy tension that had been 
growing between Mulder and herself as this mystery seemed to 
hang over head like a ominous storm cloud that might erupt at any 
time.  It was as if they were out of step and unable to return to the 
exact rhythm of their partnership, while also unable to move ahead 
to something less defined.

She had been in the middle of hitting yet another dead end in her 
computer search this morning when the queasiness began.  It was 
so strange to start her day out normally and then slowly become 
more and more ill.  She sighed loudly, trying to expel her fears 
with the breath.  Okay, this shouldn't be the cancer, right?  This is 
nausea, probably the flu, she told herself firmly.  Of course the 
medical doctor inside responded with diagnostic uncertainty.  If the 
tumor had begun to grow again there could be some dizziness with 
related nausea.  Oh God!  Another wave of sickness gripped her, 
and she buried her head in her hands.

"Morning, Scully!"  Boomed Mulder as he burst into the doorway 
in his usual rush.  "I have some new information that might help 
us." Mulder stopped abruptly in the middle of shedding his coat, 
growing instantly silent.  His eyes were locked on his partner's 
slumped form - an unfamiliar sight in the morning, which alarmed 
him.  Immediately he came to her side and knelt down.

"What is it, Scully?" he whispered with concern.  "What 
happened?"  Scully shook her head and tried to gently push him 
back from her.

"Nothing happened," she croaked unhappily.  "I'm just feeling 
sick!  Oh!"  Another strong wave of nausea assailed her and she 
grabbed the wastebasket by her feet.  To her dismay she heaved 
ungraciously into the can, unable to stop herself.  Mulder sat back 
on his heals with wide eyes, contemplating her more alarm.  He 
shook himself and reached for the tissues on her desk, handing 
them to her for her face as she quieted.  He rubbed her shoulder, 
watching her as she self-consciously used the tissues.

"Scully?"  He asked softly.

"I'm, I'm okay," She said finally, slowly shaking her head.  

"How embarrassing!"  Mulder sighed and smiled slightly.  

"What?  Tossing your cookies, or is there a party in the recent past 
you'd like to forget?"  Scully tried to laugh a little, breaking the 
tension.

"No, no party," she smiled weakly.  "Maybe the flu, huh?"  She 
glanced quickly at him, then averted her eyes.  Mulder's eyes 
narrowed in response to this and he found himself reaching to 
grasp her chin, turning her face back to look at him.  Deja vu.  
Scully's eyes filled slightly with tears not unlike they had after he 
had rescued her from Pfaster.

"What is it?" he probed gently.

"What if it's the cancer, Mulder?"  She murmured sadly.  "I know 
it's not rational, but what if it is?"  Mulder made a sympathetic 
sound and gathered her into his arms.

"Oh, Scully," he sighed sadly.  "Surely that's not it."  He rubbed 
her back and then added,  "I'm sorry you have to have that in the 
back of your mind now."  He felt her tremble.

"I know I'm just being emotional!  I'm sorry!"  She sobbed.  He 
chuckled affectionately, tightening his embrace slightly.

"I know!" he teased, although thinking this was a little more 
emotional than she tended to be with him.  "You're starting to 
sound like some girl!"  She laughed at that.  "Maybe you'd feel 
better if you gave the doctor a call and just clarified things.  You 
probably need to just go home and rest today."  She pulled away 
from him and nodded.

"You're right.  I'll give him a call to put my fears to rest, and see 
what he says."  She wiped her eyes with another tissue and blew 
her nose nosily.  There weren't too many people in her life she felt 
she could be sick around, and it comforted her that Mulder seemed 
to be one of them.

"Okay," he replied patting her knee.  "I'll get out of your way."  
He stood up and moved over to his desk, keeping a covert eye on 
her.  She seemed to be temporarily righted as she reached for her 
phone, flipping through her Rolodex with her free hand.  It was 
early still so Dana had to leave a message with the answering 
service, and await a return call.  Both of them busied themselves, 
he with work and she with tying up the offending bag in the waste 
can.  She was relieved and surprised that the nausea was gone for 
the moment, as she returned to her desk.  After what seemed an 
eternity, the phone finally rang.  

Mulder heard her accept the call from the operator, catching 
enough from her words to ascertain it was the physician's call.  He 
tried to concentrate on his computer monitor while she spoke to the 
doctor in the background, but found himself distracted as she 
arranged for an appointment.  If he were honest he would admit 
that any illness Scully might have these days brought up the 
memories of her recent cancer.  He was trying to repress that for 
her sake, but he wanted reassurance for himself.

"Well, Mulder, he told me to come in for precaution but agreed 
that it's probably something that's going around during the cold 
weather."  Scully had walked over to his desk, while he attempted 
to appear surprised by her approach.  He's a bad actor, she thought 
with amusement, aware that he probably listened to every word.

"Okay, good," he replied nodding.  "Do you want me to go with 
you?"

"No, no," she quickly answered.  "I'm fine.  I'm sure I'll have no 
problem getting there.  I'm already feeling better."

"Good," he clipped slightly disappointed that she declined his 
offer.  Oh well.  He knew he would be reluctant to have her join 
him for a trip to his doctor for a routine illness.  "Are you leaving 
now?"

"Yes, he's going to squeeze me in early," she answered as she got 
her coat from the tree.  "I'll be back soon I hope."

"You don't need to come back in, Scully," admonished Mulder.  
"Go home and rest for God's sake.  I promise to call if anything 
exciting happens."  She flashed him a warning look as she walked 
over to the door.

"I don't think I'm feeling that bad," she cautioned him, now fully 
composed and cool.  "I'll call you if I change my mind."  She 
smiled and slipped out of the door, leaving him to stare mindlessly 
at the computer.  How the hell was he supposed to concentrate 
now?  A small part of him was beginning to worry about the 
dreaded disease, and he realized how much he had been deluding 
himself into thinking it was gone now for good.  He angrily 
wadded a nearby memo on office safety and flung it across the 
room.

Rural Indiana / Week Eight
1:00 PM

Dr. Manning walked across the campus of the naval weapons 
depot considering the sun over head.  The cold weather was 
beginning to break, and the first signs of spring were emerging.  It 
was nearly warm enough to go without a coat today, and he felt 
enlivened as he surveyed the rural hillsides around the base.  What 
a contrast he thought, considering the immense destructive 
capabilities of the storage lying within this sleepy forest area.  No 
one knew just what the military still authorized and produced there 
really.  In this part of the country people were just happy to still 
work as civilian employees in the factory portion, although 
government cutbacks and proposed elimination of stockpiled 
weaponry were constant threats to job security.  It was a known 
fact among the locals, however, that this part of the state was 
subject to strange sights in the skies at night, and low flying fighter 
squads by day.  Residents of this sleepy area were either apt to 
dismiss unusual sights as military functions, or to believe in some 
sort of UFO mythology.  Of course there were just as many who 
believed their solace would be found in the pews of a fire and 
brimstone church house, safely tucked away from the unexplained, 
and possibly evil visitors in the deeply quiet nights.

Dr. Manning was greeted curtly by a semi-casually dressed man at 
the entrance of one of the grassy bunkers.  The building was 
undetectable by air laying burrowed into the hillside like the 
hundreds of other naturally formed knolls.  Dr. Manning wondered 
idly how long the Soviets had known about such locations given 
the intense spy networking over the last 30 years.  He was quite 
sure that these details were better known to foreign spectators than 
to the American people, although he highly doubted that anyone 
would guess the contents of this particular locale.

The doctor's eyes adjusted slowly to the dimmer light as he 
followed his host down the corridor.  Finally he arrived at another 
doorway, and was shown in without preamble.  The small grayish 
creature looked at him with large almond shaped eyes as he 
approached.  As was common, Dr. Manning felt the surge of 
warmth and love flood over him from the creature.  He would 
never quite be prepared for this sensation, although he longed for 
in their absences from one another, and laughed with pleasure as 
he began to sense its thoughts.   He was also happy to come 
prepared with a new plan that had been taking root since the recent 
implantation he had performed in Canada.  He was eager to share 
his ideas with this companion, and trembled as the shiver of 
electrical stimulation flowed through him.  How wonderful to be 
connected once again, he thought happily

Scully's Apartment
6:20 AM

Scully slammed her hand down on the snooze button and slowly 
opened her eyes.  She was so tired this morning, having hit the 
snooze twice already. She groaned to herself wondering why she 
hated to get up today, finally managing to sit up and survey her 
room apathetically.  She flipped the alarm off grumpily and hauled 
herself out of bed and towards the shower.  It wasn't so bad when 
the hot water began running over her calling her to life, until she 
reached for the shampoo bottle and caught a nose full of citrus 
scent.  Her eyes flew open in surprise as her stomach knotted, and 
she let out a gasp of repulsion.  What was wrong with that stuff 
today?  Before she could shove it back into the shower caddy 
another bout of queasiness came over her.  Shit!  She was going to 
vomit again!  Stumbling out of the tub, she throw open the toilet 
and heaved, uncaring that she dripped water everywhere.  When 
she was done, she wiped her face and wearily shut off the shower.  
Her face felt flushed as she viewed herself in the mirror, wrapping 
her towel around herself with trembling hands.  This was not good.  
More than a 24-hour bug, she thought unhappily.  The lab results 
would not be any too soon in coming.  It would be a relief to know 
what was going on.  Sufficiently dried, Scully fastened the towel 
around herself and headed for her phone.  The nausea had abated 
but this time it was not gone entirely.  She quickly dialed Mulder's 
number.

"Yeah?"  came his breathless answer.  He must've been out for a 
run already.

"Hi, it's me."  She said.

"What's up?"  He asked, as he searched his empty refrigerator in 
vain for some juice.

"Well,' she breathed.  "I'm feeling sick again this morning and I'm 
thinking I'll just stay home until this passes."

"Again?"  He asked furrowing his brow as he slammed the fridge 
closed.  "I thought you said you were better."

"Yeah, I thought I was, but I'm having a repeat of last week here."      

"When is the doctor calling about the rest of those tests?" he asked 
feeling a growing concern.

"Later today," she answered, then added, "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well call me when you hear from them, okay?"  

"Sure," she agreed.  "I'm going to call the bureau and let them 
know I'll be home.  I'll talk to you later."  She replaced the 
receiver and quickly pulled on clean sweats from her drawer before 
calling in.  Maybe some hot tea would settle her stomach.  

Mulder's Apartment
12:10 PM


Mulder stood in the middle of his living room stretching his arms 
above his head. With Scully gone he had become distracted, and 
since it was Friday he had finally taken the afternoon off.  He 
hadn't done that in ages, and felt a little guilty since he could not 
think of one useful thing to do.  More and more he was beginning 
to hate being here alone in this quiet.  Too damn quiet, he thought.  
He literally jumped when the knock came on his door at the next 
instance.  Peering out the peephole, Mulder blinked as an array of 
emotions swept over his face, finally settling on disgust.  He threw 
the door open.  Part of him was shocked to hell to see the smoking 
bastard standing there in front of him, while another part of him 
sneered at the predictability of good fortune for the evil.

"Whatever you're selling, I don't want any," he smirked and 
moved to close the door.  The Cigarette Smoking Man laughed 
lowly, as he stopped the door with his foot.

"Of course you do, Agent Mulder!  Why else did you bother to 
open the door?"  he mocked.  Mulder paused feeling irritated.

"So you've come back from the dead to deceive me with some 
more lies, I presume," sneered Mulder.  His visitor continued to 
smile.

"You seem unappreciative of my help with your pretty partner, 
although I see she is well.  Now I've come to offer some important 
information to you," he cooed proudly as he pulled out his package 
of smokes.  "Walk with me."  Mulder frowned and pulled his door 
closed behind him as he reluctantly followed his foe.  They entered 
the elevator in silence, the older man lighting up, attentive to his 
Morley.

"So enough cloak and dagger," asserted Mulder impatiently.  
"What's this about?"  The smoking man nodded as he took a drag, 
reaching into his suit coat he produced a legal sized envelope, and 
handed it to Mulder.   Fox opened it curiously as the elevator hit 
ground floor, and unfolded the contents while he followed his 
smoking companion out.  His steps slowed and his brow furrowed 
as he hurriedly scanned the document.   He looked up at the other 
man with a puzzled face as his lips moved wordlessly at first.

"I don't understand what I'm supposed to be looking at here," he 
shook his head extending the papers out in front himself.  "This 
looks like a DNA report of some sort, but..." Cancerman's smile 
deepened in a mocking manner, seeming somewhat pleased.

"Yes, it is," he confirmed.  "Yours, is it not?"  Mulder nodded 
slowly, examining the remainder of the document more closely.  
They had come to a stop just outside the apartment building in the 
hot midday sun.

"Mine..and Scully's." he murmured then froze.  "You bastard!"  
Mulder gritted his teeth and glared at the other man with hate.  
"What is this about?"  The smoking man tilted his head slightly 
with a gleam in his eyes as he regarded Mulder.  It was a pity that 
Mulder did not comprehend his affection for him, he thought.  In 
fact, Mulder had no idea of the extent his favor had gone.

"You tell me, Mulder," he quipped.  "Two very dedicated partners, 
one of which is now very pregnant.  I suspect you can fill in the 
blanks."   Mulder was wild-eyed and furious, but his voice 
remained low and menacing.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," he hissed.  "We 
both know Scully can't have children.  You took that from her a 
long time ago!  What possible gain could you find in spreading this 
lie, and attempt to involve me?"

"You are the one who is deceived, my friend," said the Cigarette 
Smoking Man as he stamped out his butt on the ground.  "I am 
informing you of a fact that is of great importance to you.  How 
you handle that is up to you."  

"And I suppose you had hoped to generously share this with me for 
my own benefit," replied Mulder with narrowing eyes.

"Of course.  And also to ascertain your interest in this matter.  If 
this were to become public knowledge it would no doubt create 
certain...problems for you and your lovely partner," her smiled, 
thrusting his hands into his pockets.  "Of course there are ways to 
prevent that from happening, if you so desire." 

"What?  To eliminate a pregnancy that doesn't exist to save my 
good name, I suppose," sneered Mulder.  "What kind of fool do 
you think I am?"

"A fool in love perhaps," sighed the older man, suddenly solemn.  
"There is time for decisions later on, Agent Mulder.  Go find your 
truth out, and then I will see you again."  He drew out another 
smoke and lit it up as Mulder watched dismally.  What Fox knew 
in his heart was that this man would not go to this trouble without 
some card to play.  The brief scenarios he was just reviewing in his 
head did not comfort him in this moment given that fact.  
Cancerman nodded and turned away from him as he walked away, 
leaving Mulder with the reports in his hand looking after him.


4:00 PM

Scully had settled into the sofa with a neglected novel, feeling 
much better as well as somewhat guilty for being at home.  When 
the phone finally rang, the book had fallen onto her chest and she 
was dozing lightly.  She found herself shaking the daze and 
stumbling to the nearby cordless, sinking back onto the couch 
heavily.  Why hadn't she remembered to move that thing closer to 
the couch?

"Hello?"  She responded.

"Hello, Miss Scully please."

"This is her speaking."

"Hello, Miss Scully.  This is Dr. Roman's office calling.  Just a 
moment and we'll put him on."  Dana held her breath 
unconsciously as she awaited his voice.

"Hello, Dana?" came his voice shortly.

"Yes, Dr. Roman."

"Well I have good news.  Your tests indicate that the cancer is still 
in remission and in fact the tumor is gone, which is incredible."  
Scully breathed a sigh of thankful relief.  

"That's a relief!" she admitted.  "But doctor, I am still ill.  
The vomiting never returned after the first episode in the 
morning last week, but then this morning I was having it again.  The nausea 
stayed with me a bit longer although I'm feeling better now."  

"Well, I'm not surprised." he said empathetically.  "I ran a full 
battery of tests as you know and the one obvious thing we were of 
course overlooking was a normal case of pregnancy."

"What?" she spat.  "Doctor surely you remember my records.  I 
have been infertile for quite some time!"

"I'm sorry, Dana.  I don't intend to be upsetting, but as a doctor 
yourself, you know that the test is always ran for women your age 
as a precaution before administering other treatments.  Yours 
happened to unexpectedly turn up positive."  There was a silence 
on the phone line as Scully pondered his words with irritation.  

Finally her doctor broke the silence.

"Look, we can rerun the test, but we both know that there are cases 
of apparently infertile women who become pregnant for whatever 
reason.  You do not have damage to your ovaries despite the 
absence of ovulation.  At least consider this possibility to be safe, 
no matter how extreme it may seem."  Scully nearly laughed at the 
absurdity of this statement.  If he had any idea about extreme 
possibilities.

"Okay, I do want to rerun the test," She stated firmly.  "I can do 
that myself, though, tomorrow morning.  I'm afraid this is a false 
positive, and that we're going to miss the real culprit."

"All right then,' he agreed.  "But keep me informed.  We need to 
start good prenatal care as soon as possible, and watch for the 
presence of the cancer.  And, we need to keep checking this if it 
doesn't bear out to be the pregnancy as I'm suspecting."

When Dana hung up the phone her mind flew in a thousand 
directions.  This was crazy!  Her medical mind acknowledged the 
symptom checklist, and leaped to diseases mimicking pregnancy.  
Simultaneously she thought of her missing time in the mountains 
and the recurring sexual dreams.  Could it be that they had slept 
together?  But even so, it was impossible for her to be pregnant.  
That would require that she be ovulating or at least implanted with 
a fertile egg.  Unbidden, the memories of Emily flooded over her 
painfully.  Emily had been hers without the benefit of her body as 
the host.  Surely it couldn't be as twisted as that..Surely she 
would not be allowed to be impregnated with her consciously 
becoming aware she that was having such a baby... 

She sat very still on the sofa as she was flooded with the 
implications of this new consideration.  What would she tell 
Mulder?  Worse yet, what if she allowed herself to believe in this 
only to find it was a cruel mistake, leaving her once again with the 
reality of childlessness?  What if it would be another abnormal 
child that would soon be taken from her?  How would she work?  
Suddenly the idea of chasing vampires or a ruthless artificial 
intelligence was appalling.  When was enough going to be enough?  
In that moment Scully began to weep mournfully, not hearing the 
soft knock on the door or Mulder's entrance into the room.  Her 
heart jumped when his arms were suddenly around her, cradling 
her against his chest.

Outside FBI Headquarters / Week Nine

"Agent Spender!" called the elegant older man from his limousine 
window.  The young FBI agent stopped abruptly on the sidewalk 
and stared at the man without recognition.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he responded furrowing his brow. 

"I doubt that, but what matters is that I know you."  The well-
enunciated man's eyes gleamed as he stared provocatively at 
Spender.  The younger man was drawn to the car still appearing 
puzzled.

"What's this about?" he asked cautiously.

"It's about the truth about your mother's whereabouts," answered 
the gentleman.  "And, I'm afraid this concerns your father as 
well." He could see the muscles in Spender's face begin to work 
but admired him for not giving in so easily.

"I'm afraid I still don't know what you mean," replied Agent 
Spender.  This brought a smile to the old man's face and he 
gestured towards the car door.

"Get in and I will be pleased to fill you in," he invited.  Spender 
paused a moment, eyeing him suspiciously before finally deciding 
to comply.  Once he had entered the car it pulled away from the 
curb smoothly, but not without being observed from a short 
distance away by Assistant Director Skinner.

Skinner pondered the scene he had inadvertently witnessed, while 
remembering the unusual and powerful support being exercised 
from above on Spender's behalf.  He had felt suspicious of it then, 
and now felt reinforced for his uneasiness.  Maybe it was time to 
do some checking on this young agent himself.


FBI Headquarters / Week Ten
12:00 PM

Skinner stood up as Mulder entered the room, extending his hand 
to indicate that Mulder should sit down.  Fox nodded curtly, and 
seated himself before making eye contact with his superior.  For a 
moment both men eyed one another as if they might be two 
challengers about to spar.  Skinner was the first to break the 
silence.

"So, Mulder," he began classically.  "What's this about?"

"It's about Agent Scully, sir..and myself," he replied tersely.

"Go on," he said without blinking.

"As you know, we were recovered from Canada over nearly two 
months ago, and have been unable to find a satisfactory 
explanation for parts of this trip that neither she nor I can clearly 
recall," summarized Mulder.  "What I feel certain of is that it was 
no accident that we were teased out on this mission with no 
apparent validity regarding the alleged craft."

"What are you saying, Mulder?" questioned Skinner quietly as he 
toyed with his pen.

"I'm saying that I believe that Scully and I were set up to go to this 
location for another reason that has been conveniently wiped out of 
our memories.  I believe something happened to us while we were 
there." Mulder grew quiet and appeared more troubled.

"What do you mean?" demanded Skinner as he leaned into his 
desk further.  "Why would anyone lure you to Canada and find it 
necessary to block your memory of what took place?"  Skinner's 
eyes bore into Mulder's, and the younger man shook his head 
slowly.

"I don't know yet, sir," he breathed wearily.  "What I do know is 
that the smoking man has paid me a visit recently, and dropped off 
something of interest."  Skinner's jaw dropped open.

"It can't be!" he exclaimed incredulously.  "He's dead!"

"Oh no!  He is alive and very well, I assure you," smirked Mulder 
as he tossed the reports onto Skinner's desk.  "He also apparently 
knew that Agent Scully is pregnant before she knew this herself."  
Now Skinner sat frozen in his chair, studying Mulder's face as if in 
shock.

"Scully is pregnant?"  He gasped out finally.  "How can that be?  I 
understood her to say that she has been barren after her 
disappearance with Duane Barry."

"Exactly," agreed Mulder shifting in his chair.  "So how is it that 
she is suddenly in a family way with that bastard acting as if he 
had knowledge prior to the fact?"  Skinner slowly rubbed his head 
and furrowed his brow.  Then, remembering the papers, he picked 
them up.

"So what's this?"  He asked as he started to skim them.

"A gift from the smoking man to me," he replied dryly.  "It would 
seem that I am the father of this miracle child."  Skinner shot him a 
searching look before hurriedly skimming the documents over to 
confirm what had just been said to him.  This report indicated that 
a zygote comprised of the DNA of two of his best agents was now 
incubating in Scully's uterus.  He didn't know whether to chastise 
Mulder for an unbelievable story designed to explain an unplanned 
pregnancy, or to be boggled by this science fiction.  How the hell 
would the Cigarette Smoking Man have access to Scully's medical 
information before she herself had gathered such a result?

"We're positive that she's pregnant?"

"I'm afraid the proverbial rabbit has died, sir," shrugged Mulder 
with a hint of a sarcastic smile.  Skinner stared him down a 
moment then sighed loudly, tipping his head to the side with raised 
eyebrows.

"And there is no chance that you have fathered this baby?" he 
asked abruptly.  Mulder hung his head.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that, sir," he answered honestly.  "I 
know that prior to my trip to Canada I had not crossed boundaries 
with Dana sexually.  As you know, I can't remember all the events 
after that.  I sometimes think that perhaps I have, but then I can't 
even be sure that someone else hasn't created even those doubts in 
my head.

"Mulder, do you realize what you're asking me to believe?"  
Sighed Skinned as he leaned back into his chair.

"I know it sounds impossible, sir, but I'm telling you this because I 
need your help.  You yourself know the lengths our own 
government has gone to in dabbling in this alien material, which is 
quite unbelievable in itself.  I can't see too many people for she and 
I to turn about this, much less seek help in understanding what's 
truly happening here."  Skinner sat quietly contemplating this for a 
moment then nodded.  It occurred to him that he might share his 
thoughts with Mulder regarding Agent Spender and his mother, but 
thought better of it.  He would wait until he knew more.

"Okay," he said.  "What have you turned up about this trip so far?"  
Mulder nodded gratefully, the proceeded to fill the A.D. in.

The Bureau Canteen
12:30 PM

Scully had sought the restroom after irritably surveying the staring 
faces in the cafeteria.  If she was feeling better these days she 
might feel more thick-skinned about the apparent idle gossips.  
Why did any educated person have to think in such a narrow scope 
anyway?   She took a dampened paper towel with cold water and 
patted her flushed face.  Tossing it aside she entered one of the 
stalls.  When the restroom door opened she could her the laughing 
female voices before the women came in.

"Yeah, they call her the ice princess!" laughed one loudly.

"No shit?" came another voice.  A third woman laughed lowly.

"Doesn't look like the label fits, does it girls?"  She smirked.  "Of 
course I'm guessing Agent Mulder could charm the pants off of 
any woman!"  A trio of giggles ensued.  Dana remained quiet in 
the stall.  She marveled at how high school this all seemed.  Who 
were these women anyway?

"Sounds like Mrs. Spooky was a more fitting name, given the 
circumstances, doesn't it?"  Dana heard the click of the lighter, 
followed by the acrid smell of cigarettes.  Naturally.  The building 
had gone to non-smoking so it was back to smoking in the 
bathrooms on the sly.

"How do you know he got her knocked up?" asked the girl with the 
softer voice.  

"Oh, God, girl!  Where have you been?  For five years people have 
been talking about those two!  It was just a matter of time!"

"Yeah, Elaine up in Skinners office was just telling us about how 
she was fussing over his tie like some wife a few months ago.  She 
said Dana was all over him.  And don't forget what Ellen said 
about the morning sickness.  She said Scully has been bad with it 
for a couple of weeks now!"

"Geesh!" spat another.  "I don't get it!  She's supposed to have all 
these brains.  Doesn't she know how to use a rubber?"  The three 
women burst out in laughter.  Dana Scully was furious.  She 
flushed the toilet and felt more than heard the deadly hush fall over 
the room.  With her head high, she exited the stall, and walked 
among the women to the sink.  They stood there flustered at the 
sight of her, unable to move or speak.

"You know I never cared for those things, did you?" she offered 
coolly.  "Too uncomfortable.  And, after all, when you have a real 
man instead of just dreaming about it, you want to enjoy every 
inch of him.  Don't you agree?"  She turned to face them down and 
noted with pleasure that they all dropped their eyes in silence.  
Smiling, she walked out of the room and headed straight to her 
desk.  Once in the office, however, she slumped her shoulders and 
allowed the shame and rage to consume her.  Thank God Mulder 
was out.  Impulsively she flung open her desk drawer and searched 
through the file folders rapidly.  Finally she found what she was 
looking for, and stuffed the form into the typewriter with force.  
When she was done she sealed it in the manila enveloped and 
hastily headed for Skinner's office.  It was time that she handled 
this mess in a sensible way.  When she arrived at the A.D.'s outer 
office she encountered the infamous Elaine who smiled sweetly at 
her approaching form.

"Elaine, will you see that Assistant Director Skinner gets this 
please?"  Clipped Scully impatiently.

"Of course, Dana.  He should be out of his meeting soon.  He's 
with Mulder, as I'm sure you know."  Elaine continued to smile 
sweetly.  Dana sighed irritably.

"No, as a matter of fact I didn't know, but thank you for alerting 
me.  And Elaine."

"Yes?"

"Just for the record all I did was fix his tie.  I was not all over him.  
I would appreciate that you report fact not fiction in the future."  
Elaine's smile evaporated as her eyes widened.  Scully, however, 
did not remain to observe her further, as she walked decisively out 
of the room.

Mulder's Apartment
6:00 PM

"You did what?" clipped Mulder irritably pacing the floor in front 
of his sofa where Scully now sat quietly.

"I've resigned from the X-files effective immediately.  I am asking 
to return to Quantico to teach," she repeated without looking at 
him.  Mulder felt his anger building.

"You're transferring just like that?  No discussion, just up and go?"  
He ran his hand through his hair with exasperation.  What was she 
doing?

"Mulder, I am making a logical choice given 
these circumstances.  You cannot afford to have a partner you 
can't rely on or with whom the agency questions the propriety of 
your relationship!"  Mulder continued to pace, throwing his arms 
around in the air.

"Don't you think I should be the judge of that?" he argued.  "Are 
there other decisions you may be considering for me that I'm not 
aware of?"  Scully dropped her head and did not answer.  Part of 
her was hurt by his tone, and still another part of her felt convicted.  
Mulder noticed her response immediately, halting in front of her 
now. 

"Dana?" he asked angrily.  "What else is there?"

"Mulder, it's about this baby.  I..." She swallowed without relief 
feeling the walls of her throat go dry.  "I'm thinking of running 
some tests to check for anomalies.  I'm not sure I'm going to carry 
it to term if there are abnormalities."  There, she had said it, feeling 
sick as the words left her mouth.  Mulder's face fell flat and he 
turned away from her.  Silence fell over the room and she could 
almost imagine she could physically feel him withdrawing from 
her.

Fox Mulder slowly came to stand by the window, staring out with 
unseeing eyes.  What did he feel he wondered, as if he were 
somehow detached from his own body?  How could he reconcile 
the fear, the pain, the desolation he felt at the idea of her parting 
from him after so long, not mention the complication of this child.  
Did he imagine he wanted to father it, or was it merely macabre 
curiosity that drove him to want to see the end product of a 
potentially quasi-human-alien being?  He could not blame Scully 
for her choices and yet he did.  How dare she choose this for him 
without talking about it first?

"Mulder, I'm sorry if this upsets you," she began tentatively.  

"When we discussed the pregnancy at first neither of us knew how 
to feel about it.  While I'm eager to be a mother I refuse to be 
someone's lab rat, only to fear that my offspring will be snatched 
away or die or be killed if it survives birth!  And you can't honestly 
say you are ready yourself for this to happen!"  Scully had come 
over to stand beside him, starting to reach her hand out to touch his 
arm, then dropped it away as she sensed his remote coldness.

"I don't know what to say to you, Scully," he said lowly.  "You're 
right, it's your body, and you have in many ways been down this 
road before with Emily.  The longer you carry this baby the harder 
it will be for you if something is not right with it.  Your 
impulsivity is unacceptable, however.  What drives you to fly away 
so quickly before you even have all of the facts?"

"What other facts do I need, Mulder?" she cried in frustration.  
"Somebody implanted my body with a fertilized egg with an 
unknown agenda, and given the things we have witnessed in the 
recent past I don't feel too damned confident about this!"  She felt 
her temper rising and an unaccustomed amount of emotion begin 
to grip her.  "And quite honestly I can't say that I know exactly 
what I'm flying away from right now.  Did you suppose you might 
make me an honorable woman?"  She spat out the final words and 
they hung in the air ominously.  For over five years they had 
struggled and often disagreed, but rarely ever wounded one another 
with intent.  Mulder stood stone still without looking at her.

"You're right, Scully," he said with a low angry menace.  "I don't 
have anything to offer you."  Stiffly he turned away from her and 
strode out of the apartment, leaving her to stare after him 
miserably.

FBI Headquarters / Two Weeks Later

The tension in the basement had become thick between Mulder and 
Scully, causing Dana to seek leads outside of his company when 
possible.  Skinner had called her right away to acknowledge her 
resignation, but also to inform her that it would be delayed until he 
felt clear he had given it proper consideration.  While he had 
indicated that she was free to disagree with this choice, it was 
implied in his tone that she would be up for a fight if she did 
question this action.  Part of her thought to assert her right to a 
speedy transfer, but another part of her fought the idea of actually 
leaving her work with Mulder.  The ambivalence was quite painful.  
In the end she decided to allow Skinner his time with this, wishing 
to think her actions through rather than being impulsive as Mulder 
had accused her of being.  She was lost in this dilemma as she 
strolled through the agency hallway with a file in her hand.  She 
was scarcely aware that Agent Spender had joined her until he 
began to speak.

"Hello, Agent Scully," he greeted softly with a smile that did not 
appear heart felt.  Dana's eyes flew to his face in surprise.

"Oh," she said mustering a smile in return.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't see 
you.  How are you?"

"As good as can be expected," he offered falling into step with her.  
" I was actually on my way to pay you a visit."

"Oh really?" she questioned throwing him a side-glance.  "On what 
occasion?"  Spender sent her an admiring look before continuing.

"I had hoped you would agree to have lunch with me today," he 
answered simply.  "Oh, and I was thinking of something outside of 
the bureau where we could talk more...freely."  Scully's steps 
slowed as she considered him for a moment.

"Well, I'm not sure what to say," she groped awkwardly before he 
interrupted.

"Then say yes," he urged her.  "I think you'll appreciate hearing 
what's on my mind."  He applied his most charming smile, and she 
attempted to respond likewise, though feeling unease.  Her 
curiosity was aroused by this approach.

"All right," she answered more brightly than she felt.  "Let me 
leave this on my desk and grab my things.  I'll meet you back at the 
entrance in five minutes.  

Dana did not pause to explain her plans as she breezed into the 
office and retrieved her jacket and purse.  Mulder looked up at her 
and thought to ask then bit back the question miserably.  She did 
not look at him at all fearing it might deter her from her plan, 
feeling some guilty need to fill him in on Spender's unusual 
request.

When she rejoined the younger agent, they walked to a nearby pub 
that offered a tasteful refuge for government employees.  Once 
seated they quickly ordered and Spender was allowed to get down 
to business.

"I know you are curious about why I've asked you to join me," he 
began with an innocent face.  Scully smiled and nodded slowly.

"Yes, I'll have to admit that I am," she answered directly.  Spender 
smiled calmly, in an almost familiar way, although Scully could 
not quite place it.

"You were involved with my mother prior to her disappearance, 
and I will admit that I may have came off in an accusing way.  I 
first of all want to apologize for that and would like to get off on a 
better footing with you."  He paused and looked at her imploringly.  
She smiled pleasantly and nodded, still holding back her trust of 
him.

"I can understand how difficult it must be to lose your mother 
given the circumstances," she offered kindly.

"Yes, well, it has been a number of difficult years, Agent Scully, 
and making my way into the agency has been an uphill climb in 
light of my strange family history."  He paused a moment and 
studied her reaction.  "I'll be frank, Agent Scully, and tell you that I 
do not like your partner.  In my mind he is partly responsible for 
my mother and others like her chasing headlong into delusional 
material that conveniently had taken them from the very painful 
realities.  I did not mean to offend you or to imply that you were a 
party to his views.  I recently learned you have not been assigned 
to work with him by choice."  Scully listened to him with her most 
analytical gaze, pondering his words carefully.  While she would 
not care to share the truth with this man, she could easily refute 
that much of her work with Mulder had ended up to be a choice 
forced upon her.

"You seem almost sympathetic for me, Agent Spender," she 
remarked dryly.

"I suppose I am, Scully.  You are known to be one of the brightest 
minds in the bureau, yet your career has been shipwrecked with the 
x-files!" he exclaimed, pausing to allow the waitress to serve them 
drinks and salads.  He leaned forward eagerly once the server was 
gone.  "I suppose I feel we are kindred spirits in a way, both 
fighting against this stigma of paranormal bullshit to establish a 
credible career.  I believe we both have been dealt bad hands by 
the same men in our own government."  He finished as he eyed 
her with anticipation.  Scully did not appear affected.  Criticisms of 
Mulder or the x-files were hardly ways to endear her to anyone.

"And what do you know of my so-called 'bad hand'?"  She asked 
with a false smile.  Spender sat back and adapted a cool smile.  She 
was going to be tougher than he imagined.

"I know you have been forced to work on cases that offer you little 
positive recognition, that have caused you great danger, and have 
left you to chase after a man who seems unable to return your 
affection."  He replied smoothly, taking a bite of his food.  Scully 
grew pale with anger.

"Agent Spender, I believe you have presumed too much!" she 
breathed to him lowly.  He smiled without disruption.

"Have I?" he asked coldly.  "I hear rumors that indicate that 
Mulder has taken advantage of you at last in the ultimate way.  I 
know you are thinking of quitting the x-files, and with just cause.  
What I am proposing is that you reconsider your options.  Work 
with me.  Don't go hide in Quantico, for God's sake - you'll be 
wasted there!"  Spender reached out his hand and covered hers but 
the action just made her blood run colder.  She snatched hers away 
with revulsion.

"You are out of line, Spender!" she spat with cold anger.  "You 
have no idea what you're talking about, and I can't imagine what 
work you could possibly be involved in that you might think I 
would want to join you!"  Scully shoved out her chair and stood to 
her feet.  Spender jumped to his feet as well.

"The same search you're involved in!" he exclaimed.  "Search with 
me for my mother, and we will also find the answers to what has 
happened to you.  I've read your file.  I know why you visited my 
mother before she disappeared!  Mulder will only lead you into 
more destruction if you try to do it his way.  He's already more 
than proved that to you!"  By now Spender's eyes were blazing, 
and while Scully wondered at the hate he seemed to possess for 
Mulder, she was not inclined to keep his company any longer.

"I'm afraid this conversation and lunch are over!"  She hissed, and 
walked away from her irritating companion with haste.  He stood 
staring after her with anger, before returning to his lunch sullenly.

As Scully returned to the bureau she was met by Assistant Director 
Skinner in the hallway.  He seemed relieved to see her.

"Agent Scully, can I have a word with you please?"  He inquired in 
a professional tone as he motioned her aside.

"Certainly, sir," she replied, wondering if her cheeks were still 
burning from her contact with Spender.

"I wanted to speak to you about Agent Spender."

"Sir?" she responded in surprise as he studied her carefully.

"I saw you leave with him earlier and I'm glad I have a chance to 
speak to you about it now, because I am concerned about his 
alliances."  Skinner furrowed his brow looking into her questioning 
eyes.  "I have reason to believe that he has contacts with the 
associates of our old friend, Cancerman.  I haven't sorted out his 
full relationship, but I would caution you to be careful how far you 
might trust him."  Skinner seemed relieved to have shared this and 
searched her for a response.  Scully sighed audibly.

"Well, sir, that may explain his energy in dissuading me from 
continuing with the x-files, not to mention the animosity he seems 
to harbor for Mulder," she explained thoughtfully.  

"He dislikes Mulder?"  Queried Skinner curiously.

"Apparently so," replied Scully with raised eyebrows.  They stood 
in silence a moment before her supervisor spoke first.

"About your resignation, Scully." he began.

"Yes, well I may be having second thoughts about that sir,' she 
interrupted quickly.

"Good," he clipped.  "I am scheduling a meeting for the two of you 
in my office next week to discuss this further.  I will see you then."
She nodded as he walked away, trying to sort through his 
confusing interaction.  


Assistant Director Skinner's Office / Week Thirteen

"I've called the two of you in to discuss this resignation as I am 
sure you both have guessed," began Skinner.  Scully and Mulder 
shifted uncomfortably in their seats before his desk.  "Frankly I 
have to say I am surprised given the investment the two of you 
have had in searching out the truth about the unexplained.  Now 
that you seem closer than ever to that truth you are ready to back 
away!"

"Sir, I'm sure you must be able to appreciate the reason why Agent 
Scully wishes to pursue work elsewhere," defended Mulder 
without looking at his partner.  Scully looked at him with mild 
surprise.  Skinner gazed at her compassionately as he nodded.

"Of course, Agent Mulder, I can't fault either of you for struggling 
with this," he replied softening his tone a bit.  "But this pregnancy 
is an X-file in itself, and despite its inherent painfulness, I have 
never known the two of you to back away the most frightening of 
cases."  Mulder and Scully digested this statement as their C.E.O. 
paused to study them.  He was damnably right and they both knew 
it.

"I could insist that you remain together on the X-files because I 
believe you about what has happened.  But, because I also respect 
you both, I won't make the choice for you.  I know that you are 
unsure of how you want to handle this with eachother as well, but I 
think you are aware that the bureau does make allowances for 
couples to be employed together within the agency.  At this point 
no special provisions are needed for the pregnancy.  While no one 
would ask you to perform functions of your position that might 
risk your child, Agent Scully, you are well aware that 
accomodations can be made to allow you to continue your 
investigations.  Agent Mulder also has full access to any back up 
he might require while in the field."  Skinner paused to gauge his 
impact on the two noting their pensive silence.  "As a supervisor I 
would like to say to you that very few agents stand out with the 
character and achievement that you both display.  I find no fault in 
your conduct and will continue to support you in your work.  As a 
friend I want you to know that very few people are lucky enough 
to find what you do in eachother.  While I sympathize with the 
pressures you both must feel, I would urge you to keep fighting for 
what matters to you.  I hope you will decide to stay, Agent Scully.  
I believe Agent Mulder needs you, and I  know I need you both.  
With the recent events related to UFO phenomenon I'm not so sure 
we don't all need you more than ever."  Skinner sat back idly 
rolling his pen in his hands, noting the downcast eyes of his two 
subordinates.  Mulder swallowed hard before raising his eyes to 
met Skinner's own.

"Thank you, sir, for your support," he began softly.  "I can't answer 
for Agent Scully but for myself I would like to think over what 
you've said."  Scully nodded after a moment, avoiding Mulder's 
eyes.

"I'm not sure what to say," she began tentatively with a sigh.  
"Your confidence is certainly unexpected but appreciated.  I will 
consider this carefully."  She held his eyes for a moment and he 
nodded as if satisfied.

"Good," he said standing.  "That's all then.  I would like to hear 
from you both by the end of the week.  Until then I am holding up 
the transfer papers."  Mulder and Scully stood as well and shook 
their heads in agreement.  Skinner opened the office door and 
waved them out, watching them walk out silently past Elaine's 
curious eyes.  When she realized that the A.D. was watching her 
she quickly averted her eyes to her computer monitor.

Once in the hallway Mulder and Scully walked slowly side by side 
without looking at one another, painfully aware of the glances they 
drew from passing co-workers.  Scully imagined that by now most 
of the bureau suspected them to be sleeping together, and probably 
expected that they had just been reprimanded by Skinner.  Nothing 
like believing that your personal life had just been thrust into a 
glass fishbowl at work. She sighed loudly, drawing Mulder's brief glance.

"Mulder, I need some time by myself to think," she said breaking 
their silence.  "I think you need to do that, too."  By now their steps 
had lead them to the entrance of the building, and they stopped to 
look at eachother.  Mulder shook his head with a sad expression.

"I have some things to do in the office," he replied.  "I may go for a 
walk later so I'm not sure when I'll see you." 

"Okay," she answered bluntly feeling some mounting fear that they 
might be losing one another for good.  She turned away from him 
and walked out into the sunshine, never noticing its warmth.  
Mulder lingered a moment then headed back to the office.  His 
heart was heavy with confusion and pain.

The Washington Monument
9:00 PM

Mulder looked up suspiciously as the smoking man took a seat on 
the bench beside him. Fox had been sitting here for hours trying to 
sort out his dilemma when his antagonist suddenly appeared.  For a 
moment neither of the spoke as they gazed at the water in the 
distance.  Mulder could not bring himself to face his enemy as the 
conflicting emotions roiled within him.  Why him?  Why did 
Cancerman keep dogging him?  Why the baby?

"I don't know how to feel about you," he offered sadly.  "I want to 
hate you - I thought I hated you.  But now all I can feel is 
confusion."  The smoking man nodded slowly.

"Perhaps you should hate me," he replied seriously.  "I have lived a 
hateful life." He sighed and eyed the cigarette thoughtfully.  "I 
once thought I was to do the right thing, but that thing never felt 
rewarding.  But that's of no consequence now."  Mulder pondered 
this silently, still looking down at the ground.  Why was he saying 
this?

"What do you want from me?" he asked wearily.

"On the contrary, Mulder, the question is what do I want for you," 
he replied with a tinge of sadness.  He pulled out a photo of 
Mulder and his sister, not unlike the one Skinner had given to 
Mulder after the smoking man had been shot.  "You don't know 
how many times I have looked at photos like this one and thought 
of all the might-have-beens."  This drew an angry glance from 
Mulder as he searched the older man's face.  The remorse he read, 
however, shocked him.

"What do you mean?" Fox demanded lowly.

"I mean that I look at this and know what I have sacrificed in my 
life for a cause," answered Cancerman.  "Perhaps I left behind the 
opportunity to have a good woman, or to raise a son of my own, 
and then again perhaps those things were never meant for me.  I 
can't lie and say I would have nobly chosen a different road if I 
could live it again, but I would not invite you to choose that same 
path."

"Why talk in circles to me?  It's ludicrous to suggest that I would 
even consider your choice!" sneered Mulder, but the smoking man 
was not ruffled.  He continued to eye Mulder evenly.

"Is that so, Agent Mulder?"  He grinned.  "Are we so different 
really?  Have you not sacrificed life and limb on your own crusade 
for the past 5 five years?  Has it not cost you nearly everything you 
have held dear?"

"You bastard!" snorted Mulder painfully as he stood to his feet.  
"Is this your idea of a campaign to deter me?  Don't you realize 
that I am well aware of my deluded pursuits and the expense my 
foolishness has caused?"

"Mulder, I am not here to wound you," sighed the man as he 
stamped out his cigarette on the ground.  "On the contrary.  You 
are the brightest star among them, and so unaware of how very 
close you have always been.  They are afraid of you, but I have 
always known you would prevail, despite the detours I have had to 
send you along in order to spare you."

"Spare me?" he gasped.  "In what way have you spared me?  You 
have taunted me with my sister, had part in the murder of my 
father or whoever he was, and participated in harming Scully 
because of me!  How have I been spared?"  

"You are still alive, Mulder, and so is Scully," the smoking man 
pointed out.  "Who do you think had part in your protection as you 
meddled in things so far beyond your imagination?  Other men 
have disappeared from the face of the earth, and yet you are still 
here."  Mulder paced as the smoking man watched him from the 
bench, lighting up again.

"You would have me believe that you are somehow my benefactor 
in all of this?" spat Mulder incredulously.  He stopped to glare 
down at his companion.  "You are the devil, sir!  You sit here 
distorting reality as if you can tempt me to see some meaning in 
your cruel life.  What do you want from me?"

"Perhaps you are right.  Perhaps I am the devil," chuckled the man 
as he expelled the blue smoke thoughtfully.  "Your mistrust is 
well-placed.  Still, you must see that there are some things that 
prove me credible.  Take your lovely partner, for instance."  The 
man's face had grown very serious and Mulder found himself 
unable to break his gaze away him.  Fox felt the anger burning 
inside while still another part of him had a strange sort of longing.  
Could this demon be his father?

"What is it that you want to say to me?" questioned Mulder with an 
angry sigh.  "Enough games."

"Fair enough," nodded Cancerman.  "I have come to remind you 
that your son is a gift."  He watched Mulder's eyes widen in 
surprise before continuing.  "Oh yes, it's true.  How I know is not 
important, nor is the fact that you have had little choice in this 
matter.  You were born into this heritage and because of that you 
will not have the luxury of living the life of a common man.  Your 
ancestors have had little choice as well, and you have no power to 
prevent this fate really.  As you are learning there are forces 
greater at work here than mere man can comprehend.  More than 
you can presently know you have been handed a new hope for the 
future."  Mulder made as if to interrupt, but the smoking man held 
up his hand to stop him.  "Mulder, a son is a gift that can be 
embraced or squandered.  The choice starts now.  It will not be an 
easy one to undo thirty or more years from now."  Mulder 
remained silent as the man stood to go.

"You say you won't choose my way," he added with a mirthless 
smile.  "Time will tell."  He turned to walk away but Mulder 
placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Who are you?" he demanded lowly through clenched teeth.  The 
man hesitated, but did not turn around.

"I am the man who squandered his privileges, Mulder.  I am more 
interested in knowing who you are."  They stood in silence a 
moment before Mulder dropped his hand away.  The smoking man 
stamped out his Morley and leisurely walked away.  

Mulder watched him wondering if he should pull his gun and shoot 
him in the back, or to run after him and beg for the truth.  In the 
end he did neither, sinking down on the park bench with his head 
in his hands.  He sat like this unaware of the passing time, until he 
felt a gentle hand on his head.  He jerked his face up to view the 
concerned gaze of his partner.

"Hey," she greeted softly.  "Is this seat taken?"  The unexpected 
relief that washed over him brought tears to his eyes, and he found 
himself wrapping his arms around her midsection in order to bury 
his face into her body.  One hand slid back over her abdomen 
protectively, lingering over the small spot where he imagined the 
growing child to be.  Instinctively she placed her own hand over 
his, quietly standing still in his embrace.  When she realized he 
was crying she rubbed her hands over the back of his head 
tenderly.  Mulder responded by pulling her gently into his lap, and 
kissing her tenderly through his tears.  When he pulled away he 
allowed her to wipe his face.

"I thought you might be here," she said softly looking into his eyes 
as her own tears began to fall.  He smiled slightly and kissed her 
once again softly.

"I'm worried that I may have been visited by the ghost of 
Christmas yet to come.  It makes me believe that it's time to choose 
a direction, Scully," he whispered.  "I think we should take 
Skinner's offer and see this through."  Scully eyed him silently 
with questions in her eyes.

"What are you saying, Mulder?" she finally asked.

"I'm saying that I want you to agree to stick it out with me," he 
answered as he touched her face.  "I don't know what's in store for 
us if we try to parent this child, but I am beginning to understand 
it's just one more in this series of questions you and I are being 
lead into by fate.  We have made this journey together to come this 
far, and I can't think of any reason we shouldn't see it all of the 
way through now." 

"You realize how difficult this will become, Mulder?  I don't mean 
the gossip or bureau politics, either," she sighed with a small smile.  
"I can't imagine what this infant may actually be about, but I am 
fairly sure that someone has not generously done this just to 
remedy my infertility."

"I know, Scully.  I think you're right.  Those reports told us that the 
child genetically belongs to us, but who or what else is involved?"  
They looked at eachother for a serious moment.  "Scully, I am not 
a man who has lived a normal life, and I was reminded tonight that 
I won't likely have one in the future."

"Mulder..."

"No, hear me out," he insisted.  "Maybe once upon a time you 
thought you were to live out a normal one, too, and God knows I 
have beaten myself up with blame that you haven't had one since 
knowing me.  But Scully, I'm beginning to believe that this has 
been your destiny, too.  This is no mere coincidence that we have 
come from opposite sides of the world to bond together in this 
search.  Call it karma or whatever you will, but Scully, I believe 
we are meant to stay together and make our contribution to 
whatever is on the horizon.  This child is a part of that destiny 
somehow."  Scully studied him with a searching look as she 
weighed his words carefully.

"Mulder, I'm not sure if I can go through another loss if this baby 
isn't normal," she replied softly with a slight tremble of her lips.  
He nodded slowly never taking his eyes from hers.

"I understand," he answered solemnly.  

"But the truth is that I can't stop it either," she sighed raising her 
brows slightly.  "I refuse to allow the opportunity to give life to a 
baby..to our baby to slip away forever.  And even though I try 
to kid myself about running away to do it alone out of some crazy 
female pride, I really don't want to do it without you.  
Emily...Emily was mine alone, and I knew that pain alone.  But 
this child, this child is a part of you and me.  I realize that we 
don't have to either of us bear this alone when we can be there for 
one another."  She sighed and looked into his eyes with longing.  
"Mulder, I do love you."

"I know," he smiled gently.  "We have loved eachother for a long 
time, haven't we?"  She smiled as she dropped her head, nodding in 
agreement.  He pulled her coat around her chin to tuck it a little 
tighter, suddenly noticing the chilly night air.

"Well, Mrs. Spooky, how would you like to accompany your old 
man home, and finally put the old rumors to bed?" he smiled 
warmly.

"I can't think of anywhere else that I'd rather be than with the FBI's 
most unwanted," she replied with pleasure knowing that she truly 
meant it.  Their lips met in a gentle kiss sealing a sacred trust. 
Dana stood and offered him her hand, which he took without 
hesitation.  Slowly they walked away from the bench and into a 
new future.

In the nearby shadows a dark figure stood watching, noticeable 
only by the glowing tip of his smoke.  Silently he viewed the 
couple until they disappeared from sight as he drew in another drag 
deeply.  For the first time in a very long time he felt the faintest 
flicker of hope in what he had supposed to be his very empty heart.  
Perhaps he might give up smoking after all, who could tell?  With 
a sigh he turned and slipped away into the black night.

The End